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diff --git a/40490-0.txt b/40490-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..90e5de8 --- /dev/null +++ b/40490-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,643 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40490 *** + +[Illustration: Cover] + + + + + +The White Canoe + +And other Verse + + + +BY ALAN SULLIVAN + + + + +TORONTO: + +THE J. E. BRYANT CO. (LTD.) + +1891. + + + + + The White Canoe + And other Verse. + + + + + The White Canoe. + + There's a whisper of life in the grey dead trees, + And a murmuring wash on the shore, + And a breath of the South in the loitering breeze, + To tell that a winter is o'er. + While free, at last, from its fetters of ice + The river is clear and blue, + And cries with a tremulous quivering voice + For the launch of the White Canoe. + + Oh, gently the ripples will kiss her side, + And tenderly bear her on; + For she is the wandering phantom bride + Of the river she rests upon; + She is loved with a love that cannot forget, + A passion so strong and true, + That never a billow has risen yet + To peril the White Canoe. + + So come when the moon is enthroned in the sky, + And the echoes are sweet and low, + And Nature is full of the mystery + That none but her children know; + Come, taste of the rest that the weary crave, + But is only revealed to a few: + When there's trouble on shore, there's peace on the wave, + Afloat in the White Canoe. + + + + + A Vision. + + To-night, sweetheart, when all about me lay + In shadow deep the wood, + I felt my soul within me reel and sway + And pulse my sluggish blood, + As when along a quiet land-locked bay + Swells some resistless flood. + + My spirit leapt from out its earthly prison, + Higher and ever higher, + Until it reached those barriers Elysian + Where the eternal fire + Creates one great impassable division + Twixt us and our desire. + + Up, till it left the regions of the night, + Of sorrow and of fear, + Emerging into that soft mellow light, + That radiance pure and clear, + Where Love reigns all supreme, and all is bright + If only Love be near. + + There through sweet meadows, on by brimming streams, + Wandered my soul at will, + And saw such forms as haunt our loveliest dreams + And, waking, haunt us still; + Voices like music, smiles like sunny beams + Lost in a rippling rill. + + But ah! my soul saw one supremely fair, + One form the most divine, + One face enhaloed all with golden hair, + In beauty most benign, + Surpassing all the perfect beauty there: + Heart of my heart, 'twas thine! + + My soul went forth, but all grew strange and dim-- + Meadow and stream were gone-- + I heard a sound as of a far-off hymn + By night winds softly blown; + Then all around me seemed to sink and swim, + And I am here alone. + + + + + A Question. + + Pale Moon, whose tranquil orb resplendent sails + The ethereal main; thy curved prow + For ever braving the celestial gales, + Serene and slow: + + Myriads of Stars, that ever dot the blue + Great vault of heaven: eyes that keep + Eternal watch, unshaken, strong, and true, + Yet never sleep: + + Ye southern Zephyrs, redolent with balm + Of myrtle, orange, and the rose; + Blowing from islands where the fronded palm + In beauty grows: + + Wind of the North, whose trumpet voice can shake + The shuddering echoes of the cave; + Storm-born, blast-driven; thou, whose breath doth make + The mighty wave: + + Perpetual Fire, whose never-dying flame + Consumes the glowing heart of earth, + Until a wide destruction shall proclaim + A second birth: + + Tell me, oh! mighty concourse, have ye seen + In all this great infinity + Of worlds unborn and planets that have been, + A place for me? + + + + + Confession, Creed, and Prayer. + + Silent around me a cathedral dim, + Still throbbing with the echoes of a hymn, + Lifted its ghostly arches, great and grim; + + Slowly the worshippers had filed away; + Untenanted the vacant cloisters lay; + As even followed on the steps of day; + + But one remained, who bent his reverent head + Where graven figures slumber with the dead, + And spake with faltering accents, and he said: + + "Light, light, more light; Great Father, give me light; + I cannot see my way, so dark the night; + My finite heart shrinks from the infinite. + + "Anon the shadow lifts: my straining eyes + One moment see that which before me lies; + This fades, and new-born hope within me dies. + + "I looked for sunshine, yet there cometh rain; + My sweetest pleasure turneth into pain: + I would sink back to nothingness again. + + "Beliefs are but perpetual ideas, + The gospel worketh only on my fears, + In bitterness and sorrow, void of tears; + + "In one God I believe, eternally + Omnipotent and present, and that He + Rules Heaven and Hell, the earth, the sky, the sea. + + "As carnal life by carnal love is given, + So life divine by love divine is proven, + Of which the fountain head is God in Heaven. + + "That since each body is the fleshly home + Of something better, something not our own, + So God all faults but foulness will condone. + + "For I believe impurity is sin + Against the Spirit life that dwells within + Creating Father and created men; + + "That every soul is judged true and well + According to the light that on it fell: + No light, no judgment; strong light, Heaven or Hell. + + "All this and more; Great Father, I have heard + Of Thy dear Son; my heart expectant stirred + To welcome Him, confessing I had erred. + + "Nay, said humanity within me, nay, + I cannot grasp this mystery, so stay + Until I comprehend, and I obey: + + "I would, yet cannot--herein lies my grief. + Thy Son spake comfort to the dying thief, + So speak to me and help mine unbelief." + + Here the voice faltered, ceased. God, can it be + The morn has dawned on him and not on me? + Is this the Publican, I Pharisee? + + + + + To My Pipe. + + Others their nectar from the goblet sip; + I draw sweet solace from thine amber lip. + + "A feast of reason and a flow of soul" + Lurk in the perfumed vapors of thy bowl. + + Some scoff, and say I err from nature's rules-- + Tobacco's poison; but, friend, some are fools. + + If times are hard, no comrade like to thee; + If prosperous, thou'rt the priest of jollity. + + Browned in my service, silver-rimmed through age, + Thy smouldering fire, reflection's heritage; + + When the day comes, old friend, and I'm dead broke, + Then just one puff--we'll both go up in smoke. + + + + + Supposing. + + HE. + + Supposing that when we were wed, love, + And two were reduced into one, + That a hot-tempered word should be said, love, + And thoughtlessly mischief be done; + That you should be proud and offended. + And I should be heartless and cold: + Do you think that our peace would be ended, + The tale of our happiness told? + + Supposing that children should come, love, + It may be a girl and a boy, + And my heart should go forth to the one, love, + The other your pride and your joy; + Do you think that although so divided, + Yet we still in our plans could agree, + And always the best be provided, + For our dear ones by you and by me? + + Supposing that times were so bad, love, + That ends couldn't possibly meet-- + And I should get weary and sad, love, + While you were still hopeful and sweet; + Do you think you'd inspirit and cheer me, + And help me to weather the gale, + That your presence would ever be near me, + Your courage not falter or fail? + + + SHE. + + Supposing, you darling old stupid, + That all this should happen, and more, + Do you think that the youngster called Cupid + Would fly, and his reign would be o'er? + No; the bond of affection would stay, dear, + Independent of pocket or purse; + As a wife I would honor, obey, dear, + And love you "for better for worse." + + + + + The Widower's Lullaby. + + Dost remember, dear one, floating + On a moonlit silver sea; + Stars above us, depths beneath us, + Shadows covering you and me? + + Ever drifting, spellbound, silent, + Down a shimmering track of light; + While around the gloom was throbbing + With the mystery of night. + + Mute our lips; what need of speaking? + But our heart chords were as tense + As a bowstring stretched to breaking: + Every look was eloquence. + + Till my soul had burst its barriers, + And I told you my desire; + Told of love, undying passion, + Strong as ocean, pure as fire. + + You nor moved, nor sighed, nor answered, + Pale your cheek was as your dress, + But the golden lashes drooping + Gave response, and it was "Yes." + + That was five long years ago, dear, + Can you hear me as I speak? + For again I see the lashes + Falling on a pallid cheek. + + Still, and ah! so silent sleeping, + Motionless you take your rest; + I've your pledge of love beside me, + And your image in my breast. + + Just one golden head you gave me, + Little one with eyes of blue; + See, she nestles to my shoulder: + Darling, can you see us two? + + + + + LULLABY. + + Sleep, little one, sleep, + Safe and strong is thy father's arm, + He will guard thee from every harm, + Soothe thee with kisses soft and warm + Sleep, little one, sleep. + + Sleep, little one, sleep; + Close the lids on the wondering eyes, + Deep and blue as the summer skies. + Far in the west the sunset dies: + Sleep, little one, sleep. + + Sleep, little one, sleep, + Thou art more than the world to me, + All my life shall be spent for thee, + Till Nature comes with her lullaby: + Sleep, little one, sleep. + + + + + The Bird in the Night. + + Once long ago, a summer night in June, + When earth lay still beneath a waning moon. + And never sound or rustle in the wood + Save the dull thunder of a far-off flood, + Hurling itself in ruin to the deep + O'er a great gulf, I lay and strove to sleep. + The stars were out; I watched with aching eye + Their slow grand march across a cloudless sky, + But rest came not; when suddenly I heard, + Far in the slumbering forest, one lone bird + Give three sweet calls, as if in pure delight + To fling its soul in music through the night! + + Like a cool hand upon a fevered brow + Came that dear song; all fear had vanished now, + Steady my pulse, sunk in oblivion's arms + Forgetful as a child of past alarms. + Ye who have doubts--who is it has them not? + Ye who have fears, and troubled anxious thought, + When the storm lulls, will, if ye list aright, + Hear a bird singing in your darkest night. + + + + + Nescio at Felix. + + One night, with some unquietness and dread, + And fear of boding ill within my soul, + I fell to sleep; before me, like a scroll, + Lay bare the coming years. In them I read, + Clear writ as in a book or chart, the vast + Futurity, with all its joy and grief, + Success and failure, love, hate, unbelief + And faith, and that blind parting at the last; + Whereat my soul recoiled, nor could it bear + To muse on so much labor; better far + Not to have been, or else to be perchance + Like a dumb brute, existence without care + Or consciousness; but with the morning star + I woke, and thanked God for my ignorance. + + + + + To My Indian Pipe. + + Thou, with the black stone stem, what of the past? + Where are the cunning hands that fashioned thee? + Where are the stern brown lips that placidly + Drew comfort from thee 'neath the towering mast + Of some old pine; or, patient to the last, + Toiled over thee? Perchance thou wert a god + Worshipped and feared by those whose light feet trod + The dim green aisles of that cathedral vast: + But now thine incense rises, and I see + The still north land, and hear the otter dive, + The rapids calling, and the great trout leap; + And smoking here it seemeth like to me + As if some dead hands touched the hands alive, + In token of the fellowship we keep. + + + + + Advenit Amor. + + Silence again, sweetheart, the shadows grow, + I watch the white stars climb into the sky, + Hear the dull rapids' softened lullaby + In smothered thunder, brooding sweet and low; + Catch in the east the pallid silver glow + Of a new moon, that floating pure and clear + In perfect promise of the fuller sphere, + Dips this dim world in glory, mounting slow. + + Not always had the heavens such a charm; + Last year the rapids were not half so sweet, + The wind had not such rythmic melody, + Till, Love, love came, and fanned the cold 'heart warm, + Attuned to music chords still incomplete, + And set the whole night whispering of thee. + + + + + A Song of Life. + + It came through the fields of air, + It came through the silent night, + Borne low on a sigh of a western breeze, + Like the far-off voice of tumultuous seas, + In a tempest's waning might. + + I heard the wonderful song, + It made its home in my breast; + The music of all the world was there, + it hushed all murmur of pain or care, + A psalm of infinite rest. + + Ever more clear and pure, + Ever more strong and sweet; + Till some kindred chord in the outer air, + In response to the melody throbbing there, + Sang "come" to my restless feet. + + I heard the mysterious call, + I rose and followed it straight, + O'er many a mount, through many a dale, + Past blazing meadow and shady vale, + To the sunset's roseate gate. + + And never a halt or stop, + Till the song I could scarcely hear; + It had sunk to an echo, faint and dim, + Of some melodious wonderful hymn, + So I knew that the end was near. + + Lower and fainter yet, + And more imperceptible still, + As I journeyed on; but I climbed one day, + With courage that faltered, so steep the way, + The crest of a long, long hill. + + There, far as the eye could scan, + Was naught but the fathomless deep, + While down at the crag's great base the waves + Crept in and out of the blind black caves + And whispered ever of sleep. + + I looked at my hair, 'twas white; + My hands were bony and long; + The years of my life had vanished and fled, + Though they seemed but days that had quickly sped + In pursuit of that fugitive song. + + Then out of the ocean's heart + Came swelling a grand refrain, + And through it there pulsed an angelic voice: + "Now weary mortal, rejoice, rejoice, + Thou hast come to thy rest again; + + "The song that stole into thy breast + Was the song of an earthly love, + It was but an echo, faint, yet true, + Of that mightier song that is pealing through + The musical halls above." + + Then prone on the storm-swept bluff, + My face to a golden sky, + The breezes played with my toil-stained dress, + And I waited and prayed in my loneliness + To taste of the worst, and die. + + So out of the void, a sound + From the vast dim space, a breath + That fanned the flickering flame of life + Till it flared, went out, and ended the strife-- + I slept, and the sleep was Death. + + + + + Voices. + + My heart within me stirred with a nameless trouble and dread + Of evil that should betide, and a voice in my bosom said: + "What pause from this weary toiling, what end to this endless strife? + The day bringeth naught but labor, and death follows hard upon life; + Ever I see the false one triumphing over the true, + The foul outbalance the fair, the many oppressed by the few. + Answer me, mortal master, after the battle is fought, + Six feet of earth for a couch, mayhap a stone, then--what?" + How could I answer my heart? When suddenly in my breast + There fell a hush as of a wind sinking at eve to rest; + The voice within me was stilled, and I felt its murmuring cease, + For somewhere out of infinity an angel had whispered "Peace." + + + + + Fifty Years Hence. + + Again 'twas night, and on the wave + The moon in silver lay; + Vanished had all the petty cares + And troubles of the day. + + No sound in all the wide expanse, + No rustle in the wood, + Save when some evening zephyr stirred + In whispers on the flood. + + Breathless and motionless she stood, + Unquestioningly dumb, + Twas as a world were waiting there-- + Waiting for God to come. + + Then back, through long dead years, her heart + Winged its reflective flight, + To ponder childhood's days again, + To muse on past delight. + + A mist came o'er her eyes, her gaze + Had spanned the wide gulf o'er, + Old voices spake, old scenes recurred, + Old friendship lived once more. + + Serene the skies, no fear, no care, + No tempest and no storm, + Wild birds and sunshine in the air, + And south winds sweet and warm. + + Ah! perfect youth, ah! perfect life, + Free as a cloud above, + Ah! fount whence spring the purest hopes, + Whence flows the purest love. + + For if ambition's wildest dreams + Success should crown, in truth + The cup she holds were tasteless still + Beside the wine of youth. + + All silent now, ah! for the power + Again those tales to tell, + To wake afresh those sleeping chords + That memory loves so well. + + But, echoing clear and low, those notes, + That song, we still may hear, + For faintly yet its music floats + In old age atmosphere. + + + + + Farewell to the White Canoe. + + The summer is dead, for the air is chill, + And winter is nigh again; + The maples ablaze on each ruddy hill + Are dripping with crimson rain; + Black dusk comes hard on the steps or day, + The breath of the south that blew, + Has turned to the north, and bids me say + Farewell to the White Canoe. + + How wildly she leapt at each measured stroke, + And mounted the curling swell; + How the white foam hung at her bows like smoke, + When the great waves rose and fell; + No terror for her could a tempest find, + No wrath in a frowning sky; + Her birth was the union of sea and wind, + Her life is a mystery. + + She swam like a ghost through the ghostly night, + That bowed but to her as queen; + She sped like a wraith in the silver light. + Or a spirit of things unseen: + As a leaf in the autumn she sank to sleep, + By babbling ripples caressed, + And lay in the arms of the cradling deep, + On the river's responsive breast. + + The summer is dead, and alas! no more + May we wander, alone and free, + By still deep pools and the shadowy shore, + And the rapids' soft lullaby; + Farewell, farewell, to the peace that lies + In that solitude deep and blue; + An answering voice from the great stream sighs, + "Farewell to the White Canoe." + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Canoe, by Alan Sullivan + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40490 *** diff --git a/40490-h.zip b/40490-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b9f25b3..0000000 --- a/40490-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/40490-h/40490-h.htm b/40490-h/40490-h.htm index 62f816b..bbbc6cb 100644 --- a/40490-h/40490-h.htm +++ b/40490-h/40490-h.htm @@ -5,7 +5,7 @@ <head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> <title> The Project Gutenberg E-text of The White Canoe and other Verse, by Alan Sullivan @@ -88,42 +88,7 @@ img.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; </head> <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Canoe, by Alan Sullivan - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The White Canoe - And other Verse - -Author: Alan Sullivan - -Release Date: August 12, 2012 [EBook #40490] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE CANOE *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40490 ***</div> <p class="capcenter"> <br /><br /> @@ -953,379 +918,7 @@ An answering voice from the great stream sighs,<br /> <p class="poem"><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Canoe, by Alan Sullivan - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE CANOE *** - -***** This file should be named 40490-h.htm or 40490-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/4/9/40490/ - -Produced by Al Haines - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The White Canoe - And other Verse - -Author: Alan Sullivan - -Release Date: August 12, 2012 [EBook #40490] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE CANOE *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: Cover] - - - - - -The White Canoe - -And other Verse - - - -BY ALAN SULLIVAN - - - - -TORONTO: - -THE J. E. BRYANT CO. (LTD.) - -1891. - - - - - The White Canoe - And other Verse. - - - - - The White Canoe. - - There's a whisper of life in the grey dead trees, - And a murmuring wash on the shore, - And a breath of the South in the loitering breeze, - To tell that a winter is o'er. - While free, at last, from its fetters of ice - The river is clear and blue, - And cries with a tremulous quivering voice - For the launch of the White Canoe. - - Oh, gently the ripples will kiss her side, - And tenderly bear her on; - For she is the wandering phantom bride - Of the river she rests upon; - She is loved with a love that cannot forget, - A passion so strong and true, - That never a billow has risen yet - To peril the White Canoe. - - So come when the moon is enthroned in the sky, - And the echoes are sweet and low, - And Nature is full of the mystery - That none but her children know; - Come, taste of the rest that the weary crave, - But is only revealed to a few: - When there's trouble on shore, there's peace on the wave, - Afloat in the White Canoe. - - - - - A Vision. - - To-night, sweetheart, when all about me lay - In shadow deep the wood, - I felt my soul within me reel and sway - And pulse my sluggish blood, - As when along a quiet land-locked bay - Swells some resistless flood. - - My spirit leapt from out its earthly prison, - Higher and ever higher, - Until it reached those barriers Elysian - Where the eternal fire - Creates one great impassable division - Twixt us and our desire. - - Up, till it left the regions of the night, - Of sorrow and of fear, - Emerging into that soft mellow light, - That radiance pure and clear, - Where Love reigns all supreme, and all is bright - If only Love be near. - - There through sweet meadows, on by brimming streams, - Wandered my soul at will, - And saw such forms as haunt our loveliest dreams - And, waking, haunt us still; - Voices like music, smiles like sunny beams - Lost in a rippling rill. - - But ah! my soul saw one supremely fair, - One form the most divine, - One face enhaloed all with golden hair, - In beauty most benign, - Surpassing all the perfect beauty there: - Heart of my heart, 'twas thine! - - My soul went forth, but all grew strange and dim-- - Meadow and stream were gone-- - I heard a sound as of a far-off hymn - By night winds softly blown; - Then all around me seemed to sink and swim, - And I am here alone. - - - - - A Question. - - Pale Moon, whose tranquil orb resplendent sails - The ethereal main; thy curved prow - For ever braving the celestial gales, - Serene and slow: - - Myriads of Stars, that ever dot the blue - Great vault of heaven: eyes that keep - Eternal watch, unshaken, strong, and true, - Yet never sleep: - - Ye southern Zephyrs, redolent with balm - Of myrtle, orange, and the rose; - Blowing from islands where the fronded palm - In beauty grows: - - Wind of the North, whose trumpet voice can shake - The shuddering echoes of the cave; - Storm-born, blast-driven; thou, whose breath doth make - The mighty wave: - - Perpetual Fire, whose never-dying flame - Consumes the glowing heart of earth, - Until a wide destruction shall proclaim - A second birth: - - Tell me, oh! mighty concourse, have ye seen - In all this great infinity - Of worlds unborn and planets that have been, - A place for me? - - - - - Confession, Creed, and Prayer. - - Silent around me a cathedral dim, - Still throbbing with the echoes of a hymn, - Lifted its ghostly arches, great and grim; - - Slowly the worshippers had filed away; - Untenanted the vacant cloisters lay; - As even followed on the steps of day; - - But one remained, who bent his reverent head - Where graven figures slumber with the dead, - And spake with faltering accents, and he said: - - "Light, light, more light; Great Father, give me light; - I cannot see my way, so dark the night; - My finite heart shrinks from the infinite. - - "Anon the shadow lifts: my straining eyes - One moment see that which before me lies; - This fades, and new-born hope within me dies. - - "I looked for sunshine, yet there cometh rain; - My sweetest pleasure turneth into pain: - I would sink back to nothingness again. - - "Beliefs are but perpetual ideas, - The gospel worketh only on my fears, - In bitterness and sorrow, void of tears; - - "In one God I believe, eternally - Omnipotent and present, and that He - Rules Heaven and Hell, the earth, the sky, the sea. - - "As carnal life by carnal love is given, - So life divine by love divine is proven, - Of which the fountain head is God in Heaven. - - "That since each body is the fleshly home - Of something better, something not our own, - So God all faults but foulness will condone. - - "For I believe impurity is sin - Against the Spirit life that dwells within - Creating Father and created men; - - "That every soul is judged true and well - According to the light that on it fell: - No light, no judgment; strong light, Heaven or Hell. - - "All this and more; Great Father, I have heard - Of Thy dear Son; my heart expectant stirred - To welcome Him, confessing I had erred. - - "Nay, said humanity within me, nay, - I cannot grasp this mystery, so stay - Until I comprehend, and I obey: - - "I would, yet cannot--herein lies my grief. - Thy Son spake comfort to the dying thief, - So speak to me and help mine unbelief." - - Here the voice faltered, ceased. God, can it be - The morn has dawned on him and not on me? - Is this the Publican, I Pharisee? - - - - - To My Pipe. - - Others their nectar from the goblet sip; - I draw sweet solace from thine amber lip. - - "A feast of reason and a flow of soul" - Lurk in the perfumed vapors of thy bowl. - - Some scoff, and say I err from nature's rules-- - Tobacco's poison; but, friend, some are fools. - - If times are hard, no comrade like to thee; - If prosperous, thou'rt the priest of jollity. - - Browned in my service, silver-rimmed through age, - Thy smouldering fire, reflection's heritage; - - When the day comes, old friend, and I'm dead broke, - Then just one puff--we'll both go up in smoke. - - - - - Supposing. - - HE. - - Supposing that when we were wed, love, - And two were reduced into one, - That a hot-tempered word should be said, love, - And thoughtlessly mischief be done; - That you should be proud and offended. - And I should be heartless and cold: - Do you think that our peace would be ended, - The tale of our happiness told? - - Supposing that children should come, love, - It may be a girl and a boy, - And my heart should go forth to the one, love, - The other your pride and your joy; - Do you think that although so divided, - Yet we still in our plans could agree, - And always the best be provided, - For our dear ones by you and by me? - - Supposing that times were so bad, love, - That ends couldn't possibly meet-- - And I should get weary and sad, love, - While you were still hopeful and sweet; - Do you think you'd inspirit and cheer me, - And help me to weather the gale, - That your presence would ever be near me, - Your courage not falter or fail? - - - SHE. - - Supposing, you darling old stupid, - That all this should happen, and more, - Do you think that the youngster called Cupid - Would fly, and his reign would be o'er? - No; the bond of affection would stay, dear, - Independent of pocket or purse; - As a wife I would honor, obey, dear, - And love you "for better for worse." - - - - - The Widower's Lullaby. - - Dost remember, dear one, floating - On a moonlit silver sea; - Stars above us, depths beneath us, - Shadows covering you and me? - - Ever drifting, spellbound, silent, - Down a shimmering track of light; - While around the gloom was throbbing - With the mystery of night. - - Mute our lips; what need of speaking? - But our heart chords were as tense - As a bowstring stretched to breaking: - Every look was eloquence. - - Till my soul had burst its barriers, - And I told you my desire; - Told of love, undying passion, - Strong as ocean, pure as fire. - - You nor moved, nor sighed, nor answered, - Pale your cheek was as your dress, - But the golden lashes drooping - Gave response, and it was "Yes." - - That was five long years ago, dear, - Can you hear me as I speak? - For again I see the lashes - Falling on a pallid cheek. - - Still, and ah! so silent sleeping, - Motionless you take your rest; - I've your pledge of love beside me, - And your image in my breast. - - Just one golden head you gave me, - Little one with eyes of blue; - See, she nestles to my shoulder: - Darling, can you see us two? - - - - - LULLABY. - - Sleep, little one, sleep, - Safe and strong is thy father's arm, - He will guard thee from every harm, - Soothe thee with kisses soft and warm - Sleep, little one, sleep. - - Sleep, little one, sleep; - Close the lids on the wondering eyes, - Deep and blue as the summer skies. - Far in the west the sunset dies: - Sleep, little one, sleep. - - Sleep, little one, sleep, - Thou art more than the world to me, - All my life shall be spent for thee, - Till Nature comes with her lullaby: - Sleep, little one, sleep. - - - - - The Bird in the Night. - - Once long ago, a summer night in June, - When earth lay still beneath a waning moon. - And never sound or rustle in the wood - Save the dull thunder of a far-off flood, - Hurling itself in ruin to the deep - O'er a great gulf, I lay and strove to sleep. - The stars were out; I watched with aching eye - Their slow grand march across a cloudless sky, - But rest came not; when suddenly I heard, - Far in the slumbering forest, one lone bird - Give three sweet calls, as if in pure delight - To fling its soul in music through the night! - - Like a cool hand upon a fevered brow - Came that dear song; all fear had vanished now, - Steady my pulse, sunk in oblivion's arms - Forgetful as a child of past alarms. - Ye who have doubts--who is it has them not? - Ye who have fears, and troubled anxious thought, - When the storm lulls, will, if ye list aright, - Hear a bird singing in your darkest night. - - - - - Nescio at Felix. - - One night, with some unquietness and dread, - And fear of boding ill within my soul, - I fell to sleep; before me, like a scroll, - Lay bare the coming years. In them I read, - Clear writ as in a book or chart, the vast - Futurity, with all its joy and grief, - Success and failure, love, hate, unbelief - And faith, and that blind parting at the last; - Whereat my soul recoiled, nor could it bear - To muse on so much labor; better far - Not to have been, or else to be perchance - Like a dumb brute, existence without care - Or consciousness; but with the morning star - I woke, and thanked God for my ignorance. - - - - - To My Indian Pipe. - - Thou, with the black stone stem, what of the past? - Where are the cunning hands that fashioned thee? - Where are the stern brown lips that placidly - Drew comfort from thee 'neath the towering mast - Of some old pine; or, patient to the last, - Toiled over thee? Perchance thou wert a god - Worshipped and feared by those whose light feet trod - The dim green aisles of that cathedral vast: - But now thine incense rises, and I see - The still north land, and hear the otter dive, - The rapids calling, and the great trout leap; - And smoking here it seemeth like to me - As if some dead hands touched the hands alive, - In token of the fellowship we keep. - - - - - Advenit Amor. - - Silence again, sweetheart, the shadows grow, - I watch the white stars climb into the sky, - Hear the dull rapids' softened lullaby - In smothered thunder, brooding sweet and low; - Catch in the east the pallid silver glow - Of a new moon, that floating pure and clear - In perfect promise of the fuller sphere, - Dips this dim world in glory, mounting slow. - - Not always had the heavens such a charm; - Last year the rapids were not half so sweet, - The wind had not such rythmic melody, - Till, Love, love came, and fanned the cold 'heart warm, - Attuned to music chords still incomplete, - And set the whole night whispering of thee. - - - - - A Song of Life. - - It came through the fields of air, - It came through the silent night, - Borne low on a sigh of a western breeze, - Like the far-off voice of tumultuous seas, - In a tempest's waning might. - - I heard the wonderful song, - It made its home in my breast; - The music of all the world was there, - it hushed all murmur of pain or care, - A psalm of infinite rest. - - Ever more clear and pure, - Ever more strong and sweet; - Till some kindred chord in the outer air, - In response to the melody throbbing there, - Sang "come" to my restless feet. - - I heard the mysterious call, - I rose and followed it straight, - O'er many a mount, through many a dale, - Past blazing meadow and shady vale, - To the sunset's roseate gate. - - And never a halt or stop, - Till the song I could scarcely hear; - It had sunk to an echo, faint and dim, - Of some melodious wonderful hymn, - So I knew that the end was near. - - Lower and fainter yet, - And more imperceptible still, - As I journeyed on; but I climbed one day, - With courage that faltered, so steep the way, - The crest of a long, long hill. - - There, far as the eye could scan, - Was naught but the fathomless deep, - While down at the crag's great base the waves - Crept in and out of the blind black caves - And whispered ever of sleep. - - I looked at my hair, 'twas white; - My hands were bony and long; - The years of my life had vanished and fled, - Though they seemed but days that had quickly sped - In pursuit of that fugitive song. - - Then out of the ocean's heart - Came swelling a grand refrain, - And through it there pulsed an angelic voice: - "Now weary mortal, rejoice, rejoice, - Thou hast come to thy rest again; - - "The song that stole into thy breast - Was the song of an earthly love, - It was but an echo, faint, yet true, - Of that mightier song that is pealing through - The musical halls above." - - Then prone on the storm-swept bluff, - My face to a golden sky, - The breezes played with my toil-stained dress, - And I waited and prayed in my loneliness - To taste of the worst, and die. - - So out of the void, a sound - From the vast dim space, a breath - That fanned the flickering flame of life - Till it flared, went out, and ended the strife-- - I slept, and the sleep was Death. - - - - - Voices. - - My heart within me stirred with a nameless trouble and dread - Of evil that should betide, and a voice in my bosom said: - "What pause from this weary toiling, what end to this endless strife? - The day bringeth naught but labor, and death follows hard upon life; - Ever I see the false one triumphing over the true, - The foul outbalance the fair, the many oppressed by the few. - Answer me, mortal master, after the battle is fought, - Six feet of earth for a couch, mayhap a stone, then--what?" - How could I answer my heart? When suddenly in my breast - There fell a hush as of a wind sinking at eve to rest; - The voice within me was stilled, and I felt its murmuring cease, - For somewhere out of infinity an angel had whispered "Peace." - - - - - Fifty Years Hence. - - Again 'twas night, and on the wave - The moon in silver lay; - Vanished had all the petty cares - And troubles of the day. - - No sound in all the wide expanse, - No rustle in the wood, - Save when some evening zephyr stirred - In whispers on the flood. - - Breathless and motionless she stood, - Unquestioningly dumb, - Twas as a world were waiting there-- - Waiting for God to come. - - Then back, through long dead years, her heart - Winged its reflective flight, - To ponder childhood's days again, - To muse on past delight. - - A mist came o'er her eyes, her gaze - Had spanned the wide gulf o'er, - Old voices spake, old scenes recurred, - Old friendship lived once more. - - Serene the skies, no fear, no care, - No tempest and no storm, - Wild birds and sunshine in the air, - And south winds sweet and warm. - - Ah! perfect youth, ah! perfect life, - Free as a cloud above, - Ah! fount whence spring the purest hopes, - Whence flows the purest love. - - For if ambition's wildest dreams - Success should crown, in truth - The cup she holds were tasteless still - Beside the wine of youth. - - All silent now, ah! for the power - Again those tales to tell, - To wake afresh those sleeping chords - That memory loves so well. - - But, echoing clear and low, those notes, - That song, we still may hear, - For faintly yet its music floats - In old age atmosphere. - - - - - Farewell to the White Canoe. - - The summer is dead, for the air is chill, - And winter is nigh again; - The maples ablaze on each ruddy hill - Are dripping with crimson rain; - Black dusk comes hard on the steps or day, - The breath of the south that blew, - Has turned to the north, and bids me say - Farewell to the White Canoe. - - How wildly she leapt at each measured stroke, - And mounted the curling swell; - How the white foam hung at her bows like smoke, - When the great waves rose and fell; - No terror for her could a tempest find, - No wrath in a frowning sky; - Her birth was the union of sea and wind, - Her life is a mystery. - - She swam like a ghost through the ghostly night, - That bowed but to her as queen; - She sped like a wraith in the silver light. - Or a spirit of things unseen: - As a leaf in the autumn she sank to sleep, - By babbling ripples caressed, - And lay in the arms of the cradling deep, - On the river's responsive breast. - - The summer is dead, and alas! no more - May we wander, alone and free, - By still deep pools and the shadowy shore, - And the rapids' soft lullaby; - Farewell, farewell, to the peace that lies - In that solitude deep and blue; - An answering voice from the great stream sighs, - "Farewell to the White Canoe." - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Canoe, by Alan Sullivan - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE CANOE *** - -***** This file should be named 40490.txt or 40490.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/4/9/40490/ - -Produced by Al Haines - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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