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diff --git a/old/53435-8.txt b/old/53435-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8243e86..0000000 --- a/old/53435-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4029 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's At Minas Basin and Other Poems, by Theodore H. Rand - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: At Minas Basin and Other Poems - -Author: Theodore H. Rand - -Release Date: November 2, 2016 [EBook #53435] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT MINAS BASIN AND OTHER POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by Judith Wirawan, Larry B. Harrison and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - -AT MINAS BASIN - -_AND OTHER POEMS_ - - - - -[Illustration: _Reduced fac-simile of original of page 34._] - - - - - AT MINAS BASIN - - And Other Poems - - - BY - - THEODORE H. RAND - D.C.L. - - - TORONTO: - WILLIAM BRIGGS - WESLEY BUILDINGS. - MONTREAL: C. W. COATES. HALIFAX: S. F. HUESTIS. - 1897 - - - - -Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one -thousand eight hundred and ninety-seven, by THEODORE H. RAND, -at the Department of Agriculture. - - - - - To E. - - SHARER OF PERFECT SUMMER DAYS - AT PARTRIDGE ISLAND - BASIN OF MINAS - - - TORONTO, CANADA, - 1897 - - - - - (_POESY SPEAKS._) - - - A body of beauty is mine. - O poet, moulder of me, - Withhold not the breath divine, - The soul of truth that makes free. - - Fair form in repose for a day - (The body of beauty of me) - With the pulse-beats of life all away, - Is well, for beauty and thee. - - Yet give to me life all aglow,-- - Not a demon of darkness to blight, - But a love-lit soul pure as snow,-- - Beckon me an angel of light. - - A body of beauty is mine. - O poet, moulder of me, - Inbreathe with breathings divine, - Or body alone let it be. - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - _Poesy Speaks_ ix - - At Minas Basin 15 - - The Rain Cloud 16 - - The Rose 17 - - A Willow at Grand Pré 18 - - The Bowing Dyke 19 - - Love's Immanence 20 - - Mystery 21 - - The Night-Fisher 22 - - A Deep-Sea Shell 23 - - A Red Sunrise 24 - - The Opal Fires are Gone 25 - - The Cumulus Cloud 26 - - Sea Fog 27 - - Partridge Island 28 - - Tennyson Rock 29 - - Of Beauty 30 - - The Undertow 31 - - Glooscap 32 - - Silas Tertius Rand 33 - - The Tireless Sea 34 - - The Veiled Presence 35 - - Resistless Fate 36 - - The Sea Undine 37 - - To Emeline 38 - - The Cirrus Cloud 39 - - Day and Night 40 - - Under the Beeches 41 - - The Nightingale 42 - - The Loon 43 - - Hepaticas 44 - - In the Mayflower Copse 45 - - June 46 - - An Inland Spruce 47 - - The Ghost Flower 48 - - Annapolis Basin 49 - - In Autumn's Dreamy Ear 50 - - Victor is He! 51 - - McMaster University 52 - - Conduct 53 - - International Arbitration 54 - - The House of God 55 - - Ben Nachmani 56 - - Renewal 57 - - The Christ 58 - - Revelation 58 - - Light at Eventide 59 - - Ben Shalom 59 - - Banishment 60 - - Now are the Bridals of the Leafy Wood 60 - - May's Fairy Tale 61 - - My Robin 67 - - Elissa 69 - - The Humming-Bird 71 - - The Hepatica 73 - - The White Rose.--(At ----'s Grave) 75 - - The War Hercules 77 - - In the Cool of the Day 79 - - Beauty 82 - - The Dragonfly 84 - - Deathless 90 - - A Dream 93 - - Nature 96 - - "I Am" 99 - - The Glad Golden Year 102 - - Tetrapla 105 - - Fairy Glen 107 - - In City Streets 109 - - Bay of Fundy 112 - - At the Look-off.--(Partridge Island) 116 - - The Stormy Petrel 120 - - Oblivion 122 - - Sea Music 126 - - Summer Fog 130 - - The Arethusa 132 - - Dian and Fundy.--(Designs for a Time-Piece) 134 - - The Old Fisher's Song 136 - - Nora Lee 144 - - To W 150 - - Marie Depure 157 - - "By the Love."--An Easter Idyll 161 - - - _Notes_ 171 - - - - - AT MINAS BASIN. - - - About the buried feet of Blomidon, - Red-breasted sphinx with crown of grey and green, - The tides of Minas swirl,--their veilėd queen - Fleet-oared from far by galleys of the sun. - The tidal breeze blows its divinest gale! - The blue air winks with life like beaded wine!-- - Storied of Glooscap, of Evangeline-- - Each to the setting sun this sea did sail. - Opulent day has poured its living gold - Till all the west is belt with crimson bars, - Now darkness lights its silver moon and stars,-- - The festal beauty of the world new-old. - Facing the dawn, in vigil that ne'er sleeps, - The sphinx the secret of the Basin keeps. - - - - - THE RAIN CLOUD. - - - Swift changed to storm tones is the golden air, - And shut the heavens with the descending veil - Of cloud,--here warm and brown, there cold and pale, - White-veined with sudden fire and red with glare. - Now falls the twisted rain, like unbound hair, - Dusking the wooded hills and mountain trail, - Now, marshalled by the trumpets of the gale, - Sweeps wide with level lances to their blare. - - O rain cloud, minister of cooling dew - To waiting harvests sheathed in mystery, - Bearer of blessed balms for fevered ills! - Thy rending veil breaks on the holiest blue, - All quick and palpitant as angels see, - And God's smile falls upon the breathing hills. - - - - - THE ROSE. - - - Five-petaled splendor set in hillside place, - Parent of queenly sisterhood that stir - To every garden wind, and swift confer - Attar to pour from out each precious vase! - Symbol of secrecy to Latin race, - Virtue and blood to York and Lancaster, - Thy tint _de Pompadour_ sweet arts transfer - To Sevres', and erst "rose noble" bore thy grace. - - To me thou art the glow of secret heat - That burneth at the heart of day and night, - An odorous flush of beauty without blame,-- - Love's oriel wherethrough my eyes discreet - May look far in beyond the outward sight - And, unconsumėd, see His fiery flame. - - - - - A WILLOW AT GRAND PRÉ. - - - The fitful rustle of thy sea-green leaves - Tells of the homeward tide, and free-blown air - Upturns thy gleaming leafage like a share,-- - A silvery foam thy bosom, as it heaves! - O peasant tree, the regal Bay doth bare - Its throbbing breast to ebbs and floods--and grieves! - O slender fronds, pale as a moonbeam weaves, - Joy woke your strain that trembles to despair! - - Willow of Normandy, say, do the birds - Of Motherland plain in thy sea-chant low, - Or voice of those who brought thee in the ships - To tidal vales of Acadie?--Vain words! - Grief unassuaged makes moan that Gaspereau - Bore on its flood the fleet with iron lips! - - - - - THE BOWING DYKE. - - - Sea-widowed lands more fair than Tantramar! - Winter's green providence in July's sun! - The clattering steel till all was over and done, - Flashed on thy breast from dawn to evening star. - Soon herds of sweet-breathed kine of sere Canard, - Whose eager hoofs the hasting morn outrun, - Sea of lush clover aftermath has won, - And golden-girdled bees anear and far. - - Lo, as the harvest moon comes up the sky, - Her shield of argent mellowed to the rim, - The phantom of the buried tide doth flow; - And without noise of wave or sea-bird's cry - Fills all thy ancient channels to the brim, - Thy levels of a thousand years ago! - - - - - LOVE'S IMMANENCE. - - - I watch the cloud soft-poised in upper air - And feel a presence bodied in its folds, - The wind in dark and shine a voice aye holds, - The noontide forest listens to my prayer. - The trampling seas with rumbling chariots bear - Significant behests in heats and colds, - Urim fire throbs intense on barren wolds-- - The crystal globėd dew-drops Love declare! - - The silence of the wheeling heavens by night, - By day, is but the pealing anthem sweet - Beyond the pitch of my dull ears to hear, - While veiling shadows are the excess of light - That marks the goings of His power so near, - And hides Love's regal presence on His seat. - - - - - MYSTERY. - - - O veiled enchantress of my days and nights, - That in sweet wonder's realm of witchery - To fairer visions ever beckons me, - Thou'st left the valleys for the rugged heights! - A gladsome youth, the hill of thy delights - Winged my lithe spirit to speed after thee, - But now, come down, close-veilėd Mystery, - The garish sun but withers and affrights. - - I feel thy charm, shy and elusive one, - As in the gleaming springtide of my life, - Whose zest was all thy unattained pursuit. - Still flit before me till the race is run, - And when with doubt the common day is rife, - Thy wonder-wand set thick with flower and fruit. - - - - - THE NIGHT-FISHER. - - - Grey liegeman of sundown and dawn, who chides - With a lone song the ocean-murmuring trees, - I haste with thee at dusk to stalk the seas - Where feed the finny flocks of shepherding tides. - O wild the pulses beat as round us glides - The tidal spirit, like a midnight breeze, - Burdened with moan of life-and-death decrees,-- - The deep night's tide-line pacing with our strides! - - More weird than winkings of the ruddy Mars - These flitting gleams and breaths of hell and heaven, - Searching the shadowy folds 'twixt peace and dread!-- - Nor dreamed I such solemnities did leaven - Life's daily meal and league its dole of bread - With unseen forces vaster than the stars'. - - - - - A DEEP-SEA SHELL. - - [GEORGE V. DEARBORN.] - - - Arrived from out abysmal deeps of brine, - A regal splendor glows within thy whorl, - Like pomp of rosy morn in shimmering pearl. - Surely "the hand that made thee is divine"! - Ah, why so richly dight for beauty's shrine? - No eye can feast on walls of gemmėd burl - Far down the overwhelming rush and swirl - Of awful wastes scarce plumbed of fathom-line! - - Fit for the palace of high seneschal! - Inlaid with colors which the Tyrian King - Vain sought to rival on his royal scroll, - And echoing yet the ocean's trembling string: - Methinks the Master wrought this ivory hall - To please the love of beauty in His soul. - - - - - A RED SUNRISE. - - - The naked Bay its silver notes is telling - Sweeter than flute or harp or singing bird, - Beatings of rosy rhythm in winsome word - Of lilting song are softly shoreward welling: - Anear and far the ruddy waters swelling, - In laughter-peals around the fair earth heard, - Thrill swift the home-bound keels so long unstirred-- - The kiss of day the weary wings compelling. - - Beware the elfin bugles sounding clear - As glows morn's pallid ash to crimson flame - And makes a bloody dazzle of the waves! - Ere burn the embers in the west all blear, - The deep shall thunder its awful chant of fame - O'er noble hearts gone down to wandering graves. - - - - - THE OPAL FIRES ARE GONE. - - - The opal fires are gone, and but a stain - Of day yet lingers as the sudden night - With swift cloud blots the crouching hills from sight, - And the far sea moans deep in ominous pain. - Ah me, it is the swart-winged hurricane! - The furious tide in elemental fight - Is lashing fierce and hoar with giant might,-- - The bleeding shores the tale shall tell the main! - - Brave sailor, reeling in thy storm-drunk bark, - Blinded by sheeted rain blown tempest-wild, - And vexed with roaring darkness round about! - The heaven-sent vision fair of wife and child - Calm seated at love's hearth, with face ahark, - Makes thee divine amid the awful rout. - - - - - THE CUMULUS CLOUD. - - - Mountains of heaven, in stainless white ye shine, - Islanded in calm of pearl- and sapphire-blue! - The pillared heights are lifted into view - In spectral power reposeful as divine. - A timeless peace abides in every line - Soft moulded from the quarries of the dew, - Yet fateful fire the inmost heart throbs through, - And thunder slumbers in the brows benign. - - Paling before the massive whiteness there, - The faltering moon comes up the waiting night; - The faithful stars, like folded lilies, sleep - Till Love's wide wonder of the lullėd air - Melts with its rose-tipt crests in azure deep, - And sets the skyey plains abloom with light. - - - - - SEA FOG. - - - Here danced an hour ago a sapphire sea; - Now, airy nothingness, wan spaces vast, - Pale draperies of the formless fog o'ercast, - And wreathėd waters grey with mystery! - The ship glides like a phantom silently, - As screams the white-winged gull before the mast; - Weird elemental shapes go flitting past, - Which loom as giant ghosts above the quay. - - The vapor lifts! Again the sea gleams bright; - The heavens have hid within their chambers far - Cloud-stuff of gossamer, from which are spun - To-morrow's skyey pomps inwove with light, - The belted splendors for the rising sun, - And rosy curtains for the evening star. - - - - - PARTRIDGE ISLAND. - - - The title deeds of these rich shores are thine - By age,--thine, too, by succor and defence; - Ere they were kissed by winds, or waves beat thence, - Thy breast of beauty broke the beating brine. - All hail, fair Isle, first born! Thy jeweled shrine - Is worn by pilgrim feet; thy firgroves dense, - Peopled with Hamadryads, cheat the sense - With frolic fays and all the rosy Nine. - - These younglings--Gilbert's Cliff, and Sharp, and Split, - Bold Silver Crag, the Islands Five, and Two, - And broad-browed Blomidon--the Basin's Ben,-- - When comes the witchery of fog-wreathed view, - Each robed in richest hues, with curtsies fit, - Sails in and out the circle of thy ken. - - - - - TENNYSON ROCK. - - - Majestic, awesome and inspiring mock, - Sculptured by frost and sun and bitter brine! - Has nature sympathy with men divine, - To carve remembrance in colossal rock? - Circled by voices of the sea-god's flock, - Deep calm is his, aloofness of the pine,-- - As when he waited his great Pilot's sign - Ere he embarked from out earth's sheltered loch. - - O seer and Englishman, our answering hearts - Leapt at thy words of empire! Sure 'tis meet - In "that true North" thy form should front the sea, - Where Howe, McDonald, Tupper played their parts - At statecraft, gath'ring at Old England's feet - Our Pleiad State,--one flag, one destiny. - - - - - OF BEAUTY. - - - The convoluted wave, God's first sea-shell, - Upgathers now the deep's great harmonies; - From the far blue an Alp-like cloud doth well, - Baring its azured peaks to the heavenlies. - My spirit's outward bound, hath liberty! - Earnest as rising flame its young love burns - To catch the awesome gladness flowing free - O'er earth and sky as Beauty's face upturns. - - O naught is great without thy effluence! - In curving billow's culminating sweep, - In mountain heights, the strength of grace is seen. - Essence divine, of God-like competence,-- - Reposeful in the heart of things as sleep! - Robed in the purple, sceptred, throned a queen! - - - - - THE UNDERTOW. - - [B. B. D.] - - - O'er all the shining levels of the beach - The tide outpours its hissing, foaming brine, - While with the primal surge the winds combine - To press the eager waves to utmost reach. - See yon brave billow, rising from the pleach - Of seething waters, with a might divine, - Its sinews wrought in beauty's flowing line, - Leap forward now to make the age-sought breach! - - Lo, as the cresting plume is seen aloft, - The footing of its strength on sudden slips - And all is whelmed in thunderous recoils! - Ah, tragedy of lusty life! How oft - Some high emprise a soul divinely grips, - But as it crests fate's undertow despoils! - - - - - GLOOSCAP. - - - Dim name, yet grand, that ever winks serene - In the red fagot's light, and like a ghost - Hovers above these raucous tides, this coast, - Wreathing weird webs of arrowy salts and keen! - Under the black blue night's unrollėd screen - The loon is calling to the fiery host, - And yet no answer comes to keep thy boast,-- - Far years their mellow thunders roll between. - - Divinest of the red man's race and name, - Fulness of Hiawatha's dawning day, - Giver of laws, priest, prophet, all confest! - Thou'lt come again, appeased thy wrath and shame, - Thy speed in all thy limbs, up yonder Bay - In white canoe from out the naked west. - - - - - SILAS TERTIUS RAND. - - - Oft did thy spell enthrall me, spite the cost! - Thou brought'st a charmed and fadeless holiday-- - Stories and songs and Indian epic lay-- - Whene'er thy eager step the threshold crost. - Imagination all its plumes uptost - To follow where thy spirit led the way!-- - (The sense that thou saw'st God when thou didst pray - I never through the dimming years have lost.) - - Fair Minas' shores thy step did gladden, too! - Thou charm'dst great Glooscap from the unlettered past, - And told'st his story to the listener nigh'st; - Ay, lover of song, of learnėd lore and vast, - Thou lov'dst the Indian with a love so true, - In his sweet tongue thou gavest him the Christ. - - - - - THE TIRELESS SEA. - - - Age after age the tireless sea doth fling - Its serried waves against this frowning rock, - (Whose base has known a thousand years of shock,) - And shouts its purpose to its floor to bring. - High up and landward now the ravens wing, - On trees sure-rooted inland nests the hawk; - Instinct of doom! for here swift ships shall dock, - And give of east and west, and commerce sing. - - Warriors of truth, unwearied host of God, - Who, like the deep, march to the signs of heaven, - "Thus saith the Lord" your cry, count not the years! - Grey superstition's crumbling front shall nod - Beneath the iteration of your steven, - And God's sweet love flood all the place of tears. - - - - - THE VEILED PRESENCE. - - - An ashen grey touched faint my night-dark room, - I flung my window wide to the whispering lawn-- - Great God! I saw Thy mighty globe from gloom - Roll with its sleeping millions to the dawn. - No tremor spoke its motion swift and vast, - In hush it swept the awful curve adown, - The shadow that its rushing speed did cast - Concealed the Father's hand, the Kingly crown. - - Into the deeps an age has passed since then, - Yet evermore for me, more humble grown, - The vision of His awesome presence veiled, - Burns in the flying spheres, still all unknown, - In nature's mist-immantled seas unsailed, - And in the deeper shadowed hearts of men. - - - - - RESISTLESS FATE. - - - Resistless fate and iron destiny - Are writ upon the tide--its branded mark. - It comes and goes heedless of wind or bark, - Nature's untamed and tameless energy. - So rolls the cycle of eternity,-- - Days, months, and years--faint shadows on the arc - Within our human ken--rush from the dark - And speed return as God's own mystery. - - I on this tide-beat shore, and clutching time, - Marvel of what account my selfhood's will,-- - 'Gainst timeless might time's impotence is laid! - And through my inmost soul, as at the prime, - A voice from out the awesome vast doth thrill: - "O man, thou art in God's own image made!" - - - - - THE SEA UNDINE. - - - Exquisite thing soft cradled by the tide, - Sprung not from lathe or wheel or human wit, - Wonder of whorls which touch the infinite,-- - Shallop that waits a brave undine's white bride! - Within, the smooth and sheeny walls are dyed - With the pure pink of autumn dawns alit; - Without, with stories of the deep o'er-writ,-- - How fairy slight the thunderous seas to ride! - - The massy tides gride over reef and ledge, - And sudden waves from fell Euroclydon - Dash to swift death the sailor in the Bay; - But this, all lipt with pearl, and on the edge - Of doom--the fingers of a babe might slay-- - Sleeps in the stressful surge at Blomidon. - - - - - TO EMELINE. - - - In white-spruce bower, with outlook on the sea, - Kingcups and daisies dancing down the slope, - And broad-winged ships, world-messengers of hope, - Furling their plumes or lifting them all free - To catch the skyey airs--here 'tis that we - Oft watch the fringes of the tide, where ope - The swinging doors through which all blind-fold grope - The muffled waves of shoreless mystery. - - The touch of two vast worlds is on us now. - Our spirits hear the ebb and flow unseen - Of swift commingling tides of far and near,-- - The low sweet murmur of the early vow, - Commerce of life's strange sea, on wing between, - And folding plumes arrived the heavenly pier. - - - - - THE CIRRUS CLOUD. - - - Thou hast the secret of the fiery dew, - Variety and number infinite - Are vestured in thy wavy flakes of white,-- - Of distance and of space thou hast the clue. - Aloof from vapory clouds that fume and spue, - Lifting thyself victorious in fight - Into the far repose of zonėd light, - Thou strivest to attain nirvāna-blue. - - Mottled, or plumed, or ribbed, or ripple-barred, - Encamped upon the unfenced fields of space, - Unsullied are thy tents cool-washed in air; - And when morn's bugle blows, or sky's new-starred, - Thy cohorts wait day's coming, parting face, - Like flocks of rosy angels drifting there. - - - - - DAY AND NIGHT. - - - And so the strife goes on from age to age, - In ceaseless round of victory and defeat: - Young Day comes forth, sun-clad, with shining feet, - In beauteous pomp, and throws his battle-gage. - Grim ancient Night, distraught and blind with rage, - Twanging her dreadful bow, flies in retreat, - Wrapt round with raven darkness as a sheet, - Till from the east she may the duel wage. - - So Night, pursuing wounded Day, takes breath - To find his blood-stained mantle in the west, - And dusks it o'er with plumėd shafts of death. - Secure beneath the horizon's verge, in wrath - He wings a Parthian arrow back his path, - And dyes with crimson Ethiop's jeweled vest. - - - - - UNDER THE BEECHES. - - - The sibyl's speech breaks from these leafen lips, - Moved by soft airs from shadowy spaces blown: - "We rear these giant boles amid eclipse, - We workmen die, the work abides alone." - The day has met the night beneath the sky, - And the hot earth put off its robe of flame; - Sweet peace and rest come with the night-bird's cry, - Sweet rest and peace the herald stars proclaim. - - 'Tis very heaven to taste the wells of sleep, - The founts of supersensuous repose!-- - The sibyl's rune still murmurs on the breeze, - The purple night falls thick about the trees, - And blessed stars, like lilies white and rose, - Burst into bloom on heaven's far azure deep. - - - - - THE NIGHTINGALE. - - - O seraph bird who on God's altar-stairs - Dost ring, in showers of silver peals, thy bells - Of song that ceaseless flows like dropping-wells, - And sprinkles all the dusk with holy prayers! - O welkin glad, shot through and through with song, - As upward springs the spirit tipt with flame! - 'Tis not to Itys dead nor Dian's shame - These joy-pangs, with their hint of tears, belong. - - The life which pulses in the bursting year - A thousand choirs hymn on the sunlit globe; - But, lest the living flame to ashes turn, - Thou, in the voiceless night, O priestly seer, - Interpreter of nature, tak'st thy robe, - And fill'st with vocal fire the sacred urn. - - - - - THE LOON. - - - 'Neath northern skies thou hid'st thy punctual nest - By crystal waters in their lonely play, - Meeting the challenge with which instant day - And night thy chariness and courage test. - Half bird, half spirit!--O elusive quest - That thinks thy dappled mould but common clay! - Thou wak'st with demon laughter Ha Ha Bay, - Art soul of solitariness, unblest. - - Flash of pure wildness on dusk Saguenay, - Awareness of wild nature's subtle breast, - Freight and athrill with weirdsome life, yet gay, - Thou cleav'st the deluge dense, a wingėd jest!-- - That rallying mock and jeer's an impish mark-- - The echo of thy flout of Noah's ark! - - - - - HEPATICAS. - - - A shining troop of cherubs just alit - From the low-bending skies,--child faces sweet, - Upturned and open to our human greet,-- - Fresh from the gladsome fount of life emit! - Heralds of spring, forewinging, as ye flit, - The garland seasons with their sheaves of wheat, - And to all listening ears Christ's words repeat: - "Man shall not live by bread alone, 'tis writ"! - - Evangelists fair of the new-made year, - This news from God, forgot, blow everywhere, - And fill the hollow sky, the haunting air; - Till from His loving mouth, as sphere to sphere, - Man knows the beautiful, the good, the true, - Divinest manna dipt in heavenly dew! - - - - - IN THE MAYFLOWER COPSE. - - - With gladsome note the robin debonair - Heralds bright May. Pale sky and earth-stained snow - Warm at the touch of south winds as they blow - Their wafts of life through winter's lingering air. - Hid, like some laughing child, shy Mayflower fair, - Beneath the leafy shield, with face aglow, - Thy pearly self the coy spring's first tableau, - Come to the day and yield thy fragrance rare! - - Ah me! while thrushes pipe and plumy winds - Fan northward all their balmy fervors sweet, - And groves are misty with the reddening bud, - A gentle spirit from the past unbinds - The peace of Lethe, and with quickening beat - Stirs to divine unrest my fevered blood. - - - - - JUNE. - - - Now weave the winds to music of June's lyre - Their bowers of cloud whence odorous blooms are flung - Far down the dells and cedarn vales among,-- - See, lowly plains, sky-touched, to heaven aspire! - Now flash the golden robin's plumes with fire, - The bobolink is bubbling o'er with song, - And leafy trees, Ęolian harps new-strung, - Murmur far notes blown from some starry choir. - - My heart thrills like the wilding sap to flowers, - And leaps as a swoln brook in summer rain - Past meadows green to the great sea untold. - O month divine, all fresh with falling showers, - Waft, waft from open heaven thy balm for pain, - Life and sweet Earth are young, God grows not old! - - - - - AN INLAND SPRUCE. - - - Peasant of northern forests, humble tree, - Kirtled and frocked in all-year homespun green, - And lacking not among thy kind the mien - Of such as bear the white sails gallantly! - Magician thou! Thy full-breathed symphony - Of spacious dream dissolves the walls between - Me now and nature's organ-voicėd queen, - The multitudinous ongoing sea! - - The sheeny garb from thy tall shoulders hung, - Making thy spiry form like vase antique - For resinous balms of frankincense and myrrh, - And round the bearded skirts the drowsy purr - Of life, and murmurings of thy sea-harp strung,-- - Touch thee to kinship fine with Celt and Greek. - - - - - THE GHOST FLOWER. - - - Like Israel's seer I come from out the earth - Confronting with the question air and sky, - _Why dost thou bring me up?_ White ghost am I - Of that which was God's beauty at its birth. - In eld the sun kissed me to ruby red, - I held my chalice up to heaven's full view, - The wistful stars dropt down their golden dew, - And skyey balms exhaled about my bed. - Alas, I loved the darkness, not the light! - The deadly shadows, not the bending blue, - Spoke to my trancėd heart, made false seem true, - And drowned my spirit in the deeps of night. - O Painter of the flowers, O God most sweet, - _Dost say my spirit for the light is meet?_ - - - - - ANNAPOLIS BASIN. - - - The full-fed crystal streams from east and west - And south, thy rich-wrought cup filled to the brim, - Till where the northern star soft gilds the rim, - Thy waters, called, o'erbroke at love's behest. - O to have seen thy cataract's white breast, - Rifted with ruth through the lone centuries dim, - For toiling Fundy's wooing tide--for him - To blend thy sylvan calm with world unrest! - Far floods thy bridal brought, fair lake, brave sea! - And late, the wingėd ships--Champlain, De Monts, - With Poutrincourt, and sequent games of war. - Thy marge, now crowned with peaceful husbandry, - And set with England's rose where bloomed _fleur d'or_, - Still croons all day love's wedded tidal song. - - - - - IN AUTUMN'S DREAMY EAR. - - - In autumn's dreamy ear, as suns go by - Whose yellow beams are dulled with languorous motes, - The deep vibrations of the cosmic notes - Are as the voice of those that prophesy. - Her spirit kindles, and her filmy eye! - In haste the fluttering robe, whose glory floats - In pictured folds, her eager soul devotes-- - Lo, she with her winged harper sweeps the sky! - - Splendors of blossomed time, like poppies red, - Distil dull slumbers o'er the engagėd soul - And thrall with sensuous pomp its azured dower; - Till, roused by vibrant touch from the unseen Power, - The spirit keen, freed from the painted dead, - On wings mounts up to reach its living Goal. - - - - - VICTOR IS HE! - - - Victor is he whose tremulous soul the notes - Of starry spaces hears, their far appeal, - And cries "Amen!" and sets thereto the seal - With which winged aspiration life devotes! - That seal rays golden flame, and bright connotes - The transmutation through the spirit's zeal - Of earthly passions to the high anneal - That rings the harmony that heavenward floats. - - While other triremes vain withstood the guile, - The lyric prow of Orpheus easeful past - In gladsome scorn's disdain the Sirens' Isle; - And proud Calliope o'er each black mast - Whispered her thrilling taunt in ears of pain: - "I taught my Thracian boy a heavenlier strain!" - - - - - McMASTER UNIVERSITY. - - - As some grey captain of a merchantship, - Whose prosperous voyage o'er the watery strife - Has large concern for all, knows that his wife - Waits his home-coming up the horizon's dip - With holier heart than crowds that throng the slip, - So He well knew, thou--flower-elect of life! - Chosen from out a clamor of voices rife-- - Waitedst his voyage o'er with prayerful lip. - - Fair Bride, forget him not through circling years! - But with a Christ-like love, deep as unfeigned - Surpassing that of commerce or of state, - With holy hands thy dower devote with tears - Of gratitude and loyal heart unstained; - Thy sacred vow perform with soul elate. - - - - - CONDUCT. - - - Nay, Arnold, not "three-fourths" but all "of life"! - The ethic spirit that makes conduct so, - Slays all mythologies and witchcrafts, lo, - False sciences as well, with ruthless knife, - Lest intercourse of human souls be rife - With demi-gods and unclean things below, - And work corruption at the founts that flow, - From hearts of fellowmen in loving strife. - - That spirit more than science is the hope - Of man's uplifting, and doth knowledge make - Servant of individual, social worth. - Not truth for truth's own sake, as tense we cope - With life, but rather truth for love's own sake - Calls forth heaven's plaudit round the girdled earth. - - - - - INTERNATIONAL ARBITRATION. - - - Boom, boom, ye mellow joy-bells, like the sea! - Peace, peace on earth, good-will! (and all hell gapes!)-- - Yet immemorial sadness ever drapes - The upward way of far humanity: - All prone through dark and strait Gethsemane - Thou cam'st in blood, a cluster of trod grapes!-- - O bruisėd race, whose wail so surgeful shapes - Melodious sorrow's awful threnody! - - Late, late, love's Areopagus unfurled - Right-reason's sun-glad banner from the height, - While rage the Furies in their cave beneath! - Hush, hush, it is the daybreak of the world! - Man's warring sky is passing out of night, - And stark black demons flit with sword in sheath. - - - - - THE HOUSE OF GOD. - - [G. A. G.] - - - No finished castle is the house of God. - The mind of Christ, supremest Architect, - Man's puny apprehension doth correct - From age to age, and turns afresh the sod. - The vast historic temple now is trod - 'Neath loftier roof and heavenlier aspéct; - New light, new need, revealed, each ripe defect - Goes down beneath man's feet diviner shod. - - Alas, humanity no more can grasp - Of thought of the divine Artificer, - Than holds of ocean crinkled shell on beach! - Yet His unfolding plan in vital clasp - Possess, O human soul, amid the stir - Of speeding worlds Love's flying-goal to reach! - - - - - BEN NACHMANI. - - - "O the brightness, clearness, beauty of heaven! - Seer Ben Nachmani," Rabbi Levi said, - "Of the Hagada Master thou of seven, - Would that I knew whence Light, its fountainhead?" - The Master whispered in the Rabbi's ear: - "The Holy One, blessėd be He, in white - Himself doth robe, and then the whole world clear - In beauty glows with His majestic light." - "Sayest thou so? That's word for word the psalm: - 'The light Thy garment is which Thou dost wear.' - Thou tell'st it here a secret 'neath the palm, - O Master thou of seven with whitened hair!" - - _And softer fell the Master's whispered word: - "I heard it this; O Rabbi, hast thou heard?"_ - - - - - RENEWAL. - - - In the old days Vannucci, color-dowered, - Lit up young eyes with vision large and pure, - That gathered in its iris-glow the lure - Of sea and sky, and beauty earth-embowered; - And Rafael Santi on the master showered - The rich-hued passion of his soul, secure - In art that should for evermore endure,-- - But as he wrought his vision was defloured. - For sake of art divine a seer bright-stoled, - Whose eyes had drunk the steadfast splendors true - Of sacred gems, this precious secret told: - "Oft sight of these doth color-sense renew!" - - _Ah thus, true soul assoiled of life, thou ey'st, - Mid thy enduring work, the quickening Christ!_ - - - - - THE CHRIST. - - - The noonday Truth - In its sevenfold beam, - Is the Christ, sandal-shod; - Yea, the Truth in warm gleam - Of color and shine, - Both of age and of youth, - As on life's plains and wolds - His soul's prism unfolds - The white thought of God, - In human passion divine. - - - - - REVELATION. - - - As rising waves, rich jeweled by the sun, - In movement link their brilliants each to each, - And flash their glories in one crest of light, - E'en so, unveiling, the Eternal One - Did shew Himself by signs and glimmering speech, - Then flashed in Christ His love-lit glory bright. - - - - - LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. - - - Through skies of molten gold and green the sun - Floats with its cloud-wake o'er the glowing rim - Of closing day; the same horizon brim - Glows green and gold with a glad day begun. - So closes life's full day, its guerdon won, - To those whose trustful souls are joined to Him-- - The world's great Light--whose hand the splendors limn - At once of breaking day and day that's done. - - - - - BEN SHALOM. - - - Ben Shalom read one night from out a roll: - "Vessel of honor, consecrate ('O soul!') - Prepared for every worthy work, and meet - For the Master's use!" And finger on scroll, - He prayed aloud: "Make me his silvern bowl!" - Lo! Emeth at his side, God's angel fleet: - "Yea, in His mansion here; and when unfold - The everlasting doors, chalice of gold - Brimming with His great love--heaven's vintage sweet!" - - - - - BANISHMENT. - - - As tiptoe dawn extinguished all the stars, - There lay on a fevered flower the cooling dew; - Full soon the scornful sun, with white heat glare, - Forever bade the offending thing from view; - But as day closed, it outshone flaming Mars, - Or wheeling splendors of the Northern Bear. - - - - - NOW ARE THE BRIDALS OF THE LEAFY WOOD. - - - Now are the bridals of the leafy wood, - O'er dusky brooks the golden sunbars fall, - Birds fan the moonbeams in the balmy dark-- - Look me! the banners of the holy rood - Shake in the battle's roar; sweet duty's call - Wings all my spirit like a soaring lark. - - - - - MAY'S FAIRY TALE. - - - Under the yellow chestnut tree - The children played right merrily. - - From leafy gold came pattering down - The prickly burs with nuts of brown. - - "I do believe," said bright-eyed May, - "We're pelted by some startled fay! - - For fairies love no tree so well - As chestnut broad in which to dwell." - - "Tell us a fairy tale," they said, - "A fairy tale," they eager pled, - - "About the fairies of to-day!" - And circled round the wise-eyed May. - - With air of one who tells new truth, - The gentle May, with touch of ruth, - - This tale of Elfland sweetly told, - While all stood deep in autumn's gold: - - "Long, long ago the fairies found - Their homes in flowers on the ground. - - The buttercups were full of them, - And pansies sparkled like a gem. - - But fields by men were often mown, - The flowers were plucked as soon as grown. - - Thus without tents to shed cold dews, - The pixies lost their brilliant hues. - - Their kirtles green and mantles gold - Were crushed and torn and smeared with mould. - - (You should have seen Mab's ermine cape, - Draggled in muck till black as crape!) - - At last, his gossamer hammocks gone, - Their daylight king, bright Oberon, - - (Who could not find two crimson heads - Of clover strung with spider-webs) - - And Mab, the moonlight queen of elves - Took solemn counsel with themselves. - - 'Twas in the early summer days - They met at twilight all the fays, - - Under a grove with fronded plumes, - Whose trees were white with spikes of blooms. - - With elfin lance of wild-bee sting - Stood Oberon, at the outer ring. - - His knights each wore upon his breast - A firefly lamp in beetle's vest. - - With glow-worm crown of greenish light, - Sitting her fairy palfrey white, - - The queen, by wave of saffron brand, - Hushed into silence fairyland. - - Then with her sandaled foot she pricked - Her wasp-sting spur (and palfrey kicked!)-- - - Her moonbeam bridle firm in grip, - She plied the silken milkweed whip, - - And rode straight up the waiting tree, - And out each branch its blooms to see. - - When Mab (her own and palfrey's wings - Of gauzy blue outspread) the rings - - Of wistful pixies leapt into, - Sitting erect her horse so true, - - In silvery laughter broke each fay, - Like silvery tinkling brook in May. - - Waving her saffron brand, she said: - 'Fairies! your future home and bed!' - - And pointed up the flower-lit tree,-- - Thither they swarmed as swarms the bee! - - In turn each bole and fronded roof - Was trod by Elf-queen palfrey's hoof, - - Till fays who bore the flame-wood lamp, - Swung in their peaceful airy camp. - - That was a chestnut grove they found! - And as the sunny spring comes round, - - Queen Mab, when shines the silver moon, - And elfin bugles blow in tune, - - Still rides high up each chestnut tree, - That fays may know where safe they'll be, - - And golden-belted Oberon - Swing in his hammock like a Don,-- - - For palfrey prints his tiny shoe - On every branch that's wet with dew. - - My story's told, now for our play!" - "And is the story true, O May?" - - With air of one who knows the truth, - The sweet-eyed May, tall for her youth, - - The overhanging branch down drew, - And shewed the prints of palfrey's shoe-- - - And laughing said: "Now you all see - Why it is called _Horse_-Chestnut tree." - - - - - MY ROBIN. - - [B. B. D.] - - - At the very dawn of day, - My robin from the hill flies down, - And from the fence across the way, - With black cap on his handsome head, - And slatish cloak and vest of red, - He calls me from my easeful bed: - Dear _up_, dear _up_, dear! - Cheer up, cheer up, cheer! - - Constant as the coming morn, - He leaves his green fir copse to see - If I will greet his breezy horn, - And share his joy that day is here - To shimmer the sea, the fog to clear, - And yellow the corn of the hasting year: - Dear _up_, dear _up_, dear! - Cheer up, cheer up, cheer! - - Ah robin, so debonair, - So glad of the darkness gone away, - So heedful of this heart of care, - Sweet to me is your roundelay, - Born of a spirit so tender, so gay,-- - Let me join you in duet for aye! - _Dear up, dear up, dear! - Cheer up, cheer up, cheer!_ - - - - - ELISSA. - - - I hold my secret fast! - Sunset I watch, and dawn, - Wait the white moonbeam cast, - The pall of night down-drawn. - Then in the ebon dark - I whisper to myself, - While every sense doth hark - Lest blade, or leaf, or elf, - Should catch the trembling word, - And all the listening air - Be to its utmost stirred, - The giddy world aware! - - The willow heedful is, - And the titmouse peers at me, - The kingcups nod and quiz - With an air of mystery; - But no one knows at all-- - I hold my secret fast! - The wizard loon may call - Till night be overpast, - Troops of bright eyes may smile, - The people look me o'er, - The parson turn the stile, - Friends tarry at the door! - - I hold my secret fast! - Sunset I watch, and dawn, - See the blue heavens o'ercast, - The pall of night down-drawn; - And then in raven dark - I whisper to myself,-- - My whitest soul ahark - Lest blade, or leaf, or elf, - Should hear the trembling word, - And all the listening air - Be to its farthest stirred, - The rolling world aware - - - - - THE HUMMING-BIRD. - - - Thought-sudden presence - Out of blank air-- - Humming of wings! - Here--a whisk and a flash! - Sipping red balm there-- - And the silence sings. - - Thy will works its end - In freedom complete,-- - Deed flashing in sheen; - Forward or backward - As easeful, as fleet, - As a spirit unseen. - - Plumed gem all athrob, - Thy ruby throat burns - As from the hot kiss - Of a heaven-smit soul - As it panteth and yearns, - In its rapture of bliss! - - Thing of beauty, of life, - Bright wink of a day - When we'll be what we are-- - Freed of this garment's hem! - O soul, get thy wings, - Find the red balm for aye, - (Life of earth and of star!) - Flash with love, a live gem! - - - - - THE HEPATICA. - - - Hail, first of the spring, - Pearly sky-tinted thing - Touched with pencil of Him - Who rollest the year! - Lo, thy aureole rim - No painter may limn-- - Vision thou hast, and no fear! - - Fair child of the light, - What fixes thy sight? - Wide-open thy roll - From the seal of the clod, - And thy heaven-writ scroll - Glows, beautiful soul, - With the shining of God! - - Thou look'st into heaven - As surely as Stephen, - So steadfast thy will is! - And from earth's inglenook - Seest Christ of the lilies - And daffadowndillies, - And catchest His look. - - And a portion is mine, - Rapt gazer divine, - From thy countenance given-- - Angel bliss in thy face! - I've looked into heaven - As surely as Stephen, - From out of my place! - - - - - THE WHITE ROSE. - - (AT ----'S GRAVE.) - - - Rose pendent in calm of the sun, - (A type of my holiest thought) - Fair substance and emblem in one,-- - Sweet rose--sweet soul without spot! - Sweetness of beauty of God - Both over and under the sod. - - Each moulded in earth's cloud and shine, - White fulness of being complete, - Love's rose of beauty divine! - Thy past, but evolvings sweet, - Now, moment of essence for aye, - Thy future, eternity's day! - - O rose in the mirror of time-- - Calm image from under the sod-- - O form of eternal prime, - All-peaceful beauty of God,-- - Fulness of seventy times seven, - Made without hands, in the heaven! - - What though thy time-garment fade - And vanish from out of my sight, - Thy beauty shall never know shade - With the Chief of the sons of light-- - Redeemed from under the sod, - Ravishing beauty of God! - - - - - THE WAR HERCULES. - - - Under Mount [OE]ta - The blue Artemisium, - Flanked about with huge crags, - Stilled its wild winter drum,-- - The sun turned aside, - The sea nestled in calm, - Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- - Rude Hercules died! - - A wine-glass of azure - From the breast of the bay, - Caught up by the sun, - Smiled on by the sun,-- - Hope's halcyon ray! - Kiss of love for a bride, - Kiss of peace and of calm, - Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- - Wild Hercules died! - - A nest and a home - On the wintry sea, - On the blue Artemise, - In the rough country, - Heaven set in the azure tide! - The sea nestled in calm, - Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- - Fierce Hercules died! - - O halcyon of rest, - Sweet azure of peace, - Brood thy sky-tinted eggs, - Fill the world with increase-- - On the sea's bosom ride! - Now it nestles to calm, - Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- - Mad Hercules died! - - _January, 1896._ - - - - - IN THE COOL OF THE DAY. - - - I. - - To him that hears the calling in the calm, - And, naked, feeds his soul at Wisdom's lip, - Bird, grove, and brook--God's voice in silver psalm-- - Are like a secret honeycomb adrip. - - - II. - - Remote in thought from every living thing, - Silent the sage without his threshold sate, - Pondering the mysteries of Gyges' ring, - Dreaming of timeless years and iron fate. - - The whirr of sudden wings his ear awoke,-- - A lark rose free in its grey singing robe. - "O miracle of life," in speech he broke, - "A bird is greater than the solid globe!" - - - III. - - But yesterday I saw a hillside grove - Whose trunks were clad with lichens grey as frost; - At night a storm of rain and wind fierce drove,-- - Each bole to-day in living green's embossed! - - And so, I said, the clinging lives which make - Yearful and spectral those who yield them ruth, - Shall, when o'er these the night in storm doth break, - Wreathe them in freshness of immortal youth. - - - IV. - - Adown the steep cliff's face I saw unurn - Its waters full, a crystal brook to-day; - The silvery bubbles coursed each scar by turn, - Safe as on a full-fed meadow stream in May. - - I thought of that sweet Scripture Satan used - To tempt the Christ, and knew it true they bear - In woven hands our souls, else deadly bruised, - By hell thrust down some precipice's stair. - - - V. - - Still at the breeze of day doth nature's God - Forth in earth's paradisal bowers walk, - And of soul-freedom, Love's restoring rod, - And angel guardianship, He deigns to talk. - - - - - BEAUTY. - - - I. - - "Had I two loaves of bread--ay, ay! - One would I sell and hyacinths buy - To feed my soul."--"Or let me die!" - - Beauty, dew-sweet, of heavenly birth, - Thy flower is writ of grief, not mirth, - Thy rainbow's footed on the earth. - - Rainbows and hyacinths! O seers, - Your voices call across the years: - "The bread of Beauty's wet with tears! - - - II. - - The living words from Beauty's mien, - Than blade by swordsman swung more keen, - Spirit and soul divide between: - - "Pure as the sapphire-blue from blame, - Humble as glad, of holiest aim-- - Love's seven-fold beam a flashing flame!" - - - III. - - It yearns me sore, so near, so far! - My heart moans like the harbor-bar, - For coming of the morning star. - - Buy hyacinths--a goodly share! - Ascend, O soul, love's iris-stair, - The bridegroom waiteth for thee there! - - - - - THE DRAGONFLY. - - - I. - - Winged wonder of motion - In splendor of sheen, - Cruising the shining blue - Waters all day, - Smit with hunger of heart - And seized of a quest - Which nor beauty of flower - Nor promise of rest - Has charm to appease - Or slacken or stay,-- - What is it you seek, - Unopen, unseen? - - - II. - - Are you blind to the sight - Of the heavens of blue, - Or the wind-fretted clouds - On their white, airy wings, - Or the emerald grass - That velvets the lawn, - Or glory of meadows - Aflame like the dawn? - Are you deaf to the note - In the woodland that rings - With the song of the whitethroat, - As crystal as dew? - - - III. - - Winged wonder of motion - In splendor of sheen, - Stay, stay a brief moment - Thy hither and thither - Quick-beating wings, - Thy flashes of flight; - And tell me thy heart, - Is it sad, is it light, - Is it pulsing with fears - Which scorch it and wither, - Or joys that up-well - In a girdle of green? - - - IV. - - "O breather of words - And poet of life, - I tremble with joy, - I flutter with fear! - Ages it seemeth, - Yet only to-day - Into this world of - Gold sunbeams at play, - I came from the deeps. - O crystalline sphere! - O beauteous light! - O glory of life! - - - V. - - "On the watery floor - Of this sibilant lake, - I lived in the twilight dim. - 'There's a world of Day,' - Some pled, 'a world - Of ether and wings athrob - Close over our head.' - 'It's a dream, it's a whim, - A whisper of reeds,' they said,-- - And anon the waters would sob, - And ever the going - Went on to the dead - Without the glint of a ray, - And the watchers watched - In their vanishing wake. - - - VI. - - "The passing - Passed for aye, - And the waiting - Waited in vain! - Some power seemed to enfold - The tremulous waters around, - Yet never in heat - Nor in shrivelling cold, - Nor darkness deep or grey,-- - Came token of sound or touch,-- - A clear unquestioned 'Yea!' - And the scoffers scoffed, - In swelling refrain, - 'Let us eat and drink, - For to-morrow we die.' - - - VII. - - "But, O, in a trance of bliss, - With gauzy wings I awoke! - An ecstasy bore me away - O'er field and meadow and plain. - I thought not of recent pain, - But revelled, as splendors broke - From sun and cloud and air, - In the eye of golden Day. - - - VIII. - - "I'm yearning to break - To my fellows below - The secret of ages hoar; - In the quick-flashing light - I dart up and down, - Forth and back, everywhere, - But the waters are sealed - Like a pavement of glass,-- - Sealed that I may not pass. - O for waters of air! - Or the wing of an eagle's might - To cleave a pathway below!" - - - IX. - - And the Dragonfly in splendor - Cruises ever o'er the lake, - Holding in his heart a secret - Which in vain he seeks to break. - - - - - DEATHLESS. - - - I. - - The coy soul of man, - Moving through its time-span, - Unheeding of wings, - Tastes the death of all things-- - Of the flower and weed - And the faint-voiced reed. - - - II. - - The fair seasons roll - For you and for me. - The inhabiting soul - Of the flower and tree, - With the day of each - Born to be and to die,-- - No eternity-speech, - No eternity-cry - That pierces above, - Nor infinite thrill - At the touch of Love, - Or the voice of His will-- - From His fingers begot,-- - God-breathed it is not! - - - III. - - 'Twas a shy fair one, - Like a beam of light - From the clouded sun, - That rose to the sight - Of the eye of emotion - In the soul of the Greek, - And eternized the form; - And vision, devotion, - Ever fixt on the norm,-- - Type of beauty of flower, - Of grove and of bower, - Deathless, unique! - - - IV. - - Not from pole unto pole - Is man's hunger of soul, - But eternity's set - As a deathless fret - In the heart of man - As it beats the earth-span,-- - Beating not from the sod, - But an ongoing of God! - And it listens for Him - Over Time's flying rim, - And it sips, or it stings, - A life from all things-- - From the flower and the weed - And the faint-voiced reed. - - - - - A DREAM. - - - I dreamed the Lord of Life was dead. - Tremulous awe fell on the earth, - Virtue had gone from out all things, - The sun and rain were nothing worth. - - Rude power seized the painted woods - And hurled their glory down the steep, - The landscape wrapt in cerements - And left in death's eternal sleep. - - Nor bloom nor odor met the sense, - Nor wind-chant of the foliaged tree, - Nor grove of singing birds, nor psalm - Borne from the ever-voiceful sea. - - Color had fled the air and sky, - A stony stillness held the earth, - Virtue had gone from out all things, - Man's ebbing life was nothing worth. - - And as I wept within my dream - And knew my pulse of being slowed, - I sudden was aware of change-- - A flush on pallid nature showed! - - Lo, heralds of the arriving year! - The bugled flock beclangs the blue, - The hyla pipes by willowed run, - The flashing swallow skims the dew. - - Up from the rampike's ghastly arms - The gold-shaft high-hole's challenge floats, - While greening hill and valley laugh - And shore breaks out in pęan notes. - - And in my dream I leapt for joy-- - "'Twas but an awful dream," I said, - "The Lord of Life, for evermore - He lives--'twas once for all He bled!" - - And waked from sleep by beating heart, - I heard the first red robin sing, - And knew that once again had come - Fresh from the life of God the spring. - - - - - NATURE. - - - The large, far intent - Of the Kingly One - Is only begun - In rearing the tent; - To nurture a soul - Is the shining goal. - - Keen science speaketh - A word clear and fair - "The carbon in air - The young oak seeketh - In the greening years, - Lo, a giant appears! - - "Shelter and warmth, see! - Here final cause - Of nature's wise laws; - And the breath of the tree - Is life unto man - And lengthens his span.' - - But the Chemist who moves - The atoms in dance, - His all-seeing glance - By His working proves,-- - From far-off to nigher, - Feeds life that is higher. - - From blade to full ear, - From acorn to beam, - Unfoldings of dream, - Linkėd series of cheer, - Evolvings of grace, - Shadows bright of His face! - - Sweet procession and slow, - Every step of the way - More precious each day, - Till the starlit airs blow, - Wake emotion that sleeps, - Stir the fount of the deeps. - - O heaven's own fact - Eternal, that beauty, - As the sword on duty, - Hangs silent on act - Of nature forever,-- - Soul and body together! - - Nature, series divine - Of act and of word - From God's mouth seen or heard! - As thou bring'st bread and wine - I hear thy deep tone, - "O not these alone!" - - All-divine unity! - Writes the heaven-touched mind - Responsive, once blind: - All-divine harmony! - Emotion's attest - In the glow of my breast. - - - - - "I AM." - - - I am, and therefore these, - Existence is by me,-- - Flux of pendulous seas, - The stable, free. - - I am in blush of the rose, - The shimmer of dawn; - Am girdle Orion knows, - The fount undrawn. - - I am earth's potency, - The chemic ray's, the rain's, - The reciprocity - That loads the wains. - - I am, or the heavens fall! - I dwell in my woven tent, - Am immanent in all,-- - Suprįmanent! - - I am the Life in life, - Impact and verve of thought, - The reason's lens and knife, - The ethic "ought." - - I am of being the stress, - I am the brooding Dove, - I am the blessing in "bless," - The Love in love. - - I am the living thrill - And fire of poet and seer, - The breath of man's goodwill, - The Father near; - - Am end of the way men grope, - Core of the ceaseless strife, - I am man's bread of hope, - Water of life. - - I am the root of faith, - Substance of vision, too, - The spirit shadowed in wraith, - Urim in dew. - - I am the soul's white Sun, - Love's slain, enthronėd Lamb, - I am the Holy One, - I am I AM! - - - - - THE GLAD GOLDEN YEAR. - - - The glad golden year - Wheels slow in its coming. - Wild labor commotions - And murmurings for bread - While besotted with beer - Is the day's up-summing,-- - Insurgent emotions - To beauty stone-dead! - - What help, do you say, - For these sons of men? - In God's image they're made-- - Cleanse their eyes to His light, - Tune their ears to His lay, - Give His bread once again - Whose price the Christ paid,-- - Heaven's bread is their right! - - Earth's means of achieving - (Herds, field-food, and river, - Rain-cisterns in sky, - And sunshine elysian) - Forever are weaving, - And fain would deliver, - Web of God's beauty nigh-- - Sense-ravishing vision! - - Sow bread in the field: - Warm rain will transfigure - The humble grey furrow - With a million pearl suns - On the lanceolate shield - Of emerald and ligure, - And the moon o'er each burrow - Of the low-buried ones - Turn silver the spear-tips - In the dusk, with her lips; - And when breezy morn's told, - All ripples in gold. - - With envious repining - Or solace of delight-- - As emotion is pure - Or turbid with ill-- - Man views the outshining - From the heavenly height, - Feels the sweet picture's lure, - Hears the bird-copse athrill, - Makes him lord, or does not, - Of the park, house, or cot. - - Who holds the sure key - To this largesse of treasure - Is a king among men, - Though a workman in blue,-- - Of a strain yet to be - Who with God taketh pleasure - In the young earth again, - And feeleth it new. - Slow speeds the glad year - Told by poet and seer, - Yet I catch the far hum-- - It will come, it will come! - - - - - TETRAPLA. - - - LOVE. - - The blooming flowers, the galaxies of space, - Lie pictured in a sheeny drop of even; - And globed in one round word, on lips of grace, - Shine out the best of earth and all of heaven. - - - SACRIFICE. - - Green-haloed cup of the gods, cool from the deeps, - Fountain of life, whence comes thy wave that blesses? - "The burdened cloud attempts the mountain steeps, - To perish 'mid the rugged wildernesses." - - - LIBERTY. - - Thou rugged Gaian of man's free behests, - Belted and helmed 'neath God's red thunder-flails; - World climes upon thy many-cloven crests, - And ordered kingdoms in thy fertile vales! - - - BEAUTY. - - The grace of strength the shaggy hills attest, - And cresting billows in their power serene; - Beauty was suckled at no weakling's breast, - She sits the manėd lion like a queen. - - - - - FAIRY GLEN. - - - Hid in the virgin wilderness, - The fretted Conway's Fairy Glen - This summer day reveals its charms - For painter's brush or poet's pen. - - The air is flecked with night and day, - The ground is tiger-dusk and -gold, - The rocks and trees, empearled in haze, - A soft and far enchantment hold. - - The place is peopled with shy winds - Whose fitful plumes waft dewy balm - From all the wildwood, and let fall - An incommunicable calm. - - Through cleft rocks green with spray-wet moss, - Deep in the sweet wood's golden glooms, - The amber waters pulsing go, - With foam like creamy lily blooms. - - Shuttles of shadow and of light - In-gleam and -gloom the watery woof - As rolls the endless stream away - Beneath the wind-swayed leafy roof. - - (So life's swift shuttles dart and play, - As ceaseless speeds its flashing loom; - Our day is woven of sun and cloud, - A figured web of gold and gloom.) - - God's arbor, this enchanted Glen! - The air is sentient with His name; - Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, - The trees are bursting into flame! - - - - - IN CITY STREETS. - - - The city's ways were crowded thick,-- - I bent my steps athrough its mass - Of men and women, stone and brick, - Its whirring wheels and piping brass. - - And all day long, with hurrying feet, - I trod the surging marts of trade; - Yet in the rush and roar of street - A calm within my breast was made. - - For visions came of fair things wrought - By beauty's witching hand and grace - Upon my spirit when I caught - Life's spring-time image of her face:-- - - Blue violets in mossy bed, - Flashing with jewels on their breast; - The sky-stained eggs of robin red - Laid in her lined adobe nest; - - The shy lone brook, crept soft upon - Lest I should fright its brattling play; - The woods ahark for something gone, - Or whispering of elf and fay; - - The silver lake with lilies in bloom, - Their cups half-full of heaven's gold,-- - The circling shore all prankt with plume - Of ferns, whose fronds the waters told; - - And up the hill the whitethroat's song-- - A crystal bell that shakes the dew! - While floats in dream the cloud along, - And veils the palpitating blue; - - The musical and dream-like rain - Falling on roof o'er fragrant hay; - The blood-red spear, unflushed of pain, - Of sunbeam thrust 'tween battens grey; - - And in a trice, the sculptured shore - Where halcyon tides with wonder-wings - Redden their plumes in toil to soar - To where Evangeline's memory clings,-- - - Such sights and sounds swift came and went,-- - Glad sunshafts of an April day! - And to impetuous traffic lent - The restful sweetness of the may. - - Imprisoned close in city marts, - O childhood, so divinely fair, - For thee, deep in my heart of hearts, - Sweet pity beats her wings all bare! - - - - - BAY OF FUNDY. - - - I. - - Deep Bay, broad-breasted and brave! - Oft rocked in thy swaying arms - Beneath the hidden sun, - As foam-bell tost on thy wave - I drift again 'mid thy charms - To sphinx-like Blomidon. - - Why are thy glories untold? - Thy cliffs of purple and red - And crystal-veinėd rocks, - Thy hasting waters deep-rolled - 'Neath skies whose colors are spread - With art that all art mocks; - - Thy faltering ranks of white mist - Flanking vast floods and vast ebbs-- - A mimicry of war,-- - Oriflammes of dew-sprent list, - Banners of gossamer webs, - Soft blown as lights of Thor! - - - II. - - The smooth shining flats all bare - To the heavens' nakedest ken, - Mirror the hills, like lakes. - The drowsy lull of the air - Will stir anew to life when - The tidal note awakes. - - From lang'rous south seas that creep, - These odors dank issue forth, - Odors of sun-steeped brine-- - It comes! a breeze from a deep, - Full-fed from seas of the North, - A waft of Vikings' wine! - - Now beats the pulse of the flood, - The throbbings deep of a heart - Felt all around the world; - Now smites its rhythm with a thud,-- - With ictus sure of its art - That mountains huge has hurled. - - The unsouled rivers and creeks - Have being, have life to the full, - Into their mouths rebreathed, - As heaves the broad breast that seeks - T' embosom each leaning hull, - Bare on red banks tide-seethed. - - The iron gride of the flow - Powders the rocks in its path, - And bears the dust afar - To build their urns, where may grow - Sweet grasses and "primrose rathe,"-- - Fair Grand Pré, Tantramar! - - - III. - - Builder, unbuilder of shores, - Thresher of cliffs vapor-stoled, - God's masterworkman strong! - Yet on thy bosom the oars - Of sailor lads ply and fold - To sweet refrains of song. - - And glad in thy twinkling smiles, - Awing, like sea-gulls, the ships - Are breasting stout the breeze,-- - Ah me, thy treacherous wiles! - Witching fog-wraiths draping rips! - Currents of iron seas! - - - IV. - - O Fundy, deep-breathing sea, - Regal in power and rimmed - In hollow of His hand, - Captive to beauty, yet free, - Sleep now, thy Basin is brimmed - In fair Acadian land! - - Haloed with pearl-raying rings - The moon, at her utmost poised, - Looks on her silver shield; - And the tide wakens and swings-- - Ebbs with a clangor far noised - And wheeling wings afield. - - - - - AT THE LOOK-OFF. - - (PARTRIDGE ISLAND.) - - - I. - - What more can world-worn spirit ask - Than here in nature's arms to bask - And see the plangent tide at task? - - The zest is swift as lusty youth, - (Touched with an undertone of ruth,) - Invincible as ageless truth,-- - - The wonder of all wondrous things! - How coy the birds! they lift their wings; - The wary ship to her anchor swings. - - - II. - - Sun, moon and stars of ancient prime, - And of to-day, in confluence chime - The universal One sublime; - - Pouring these floods of deep surcease,-- - In universal pain, release; - In universal travail, peace. - - The strong right arm is here laid bare - In strife, by which He doth declare - Another shall not with Him share. - - Forces of universal law - Which hither these vast waters draw - Send through my soul His tides of awe; - - While universal radiance charms - And beckons to His winsome arms - To soothe my timid soul's alarms. - - Of joy, of grief He does not rob,-- - The light with intermittent throb - Falls on the waters glad--a-sob. - - - III. - - Here He and I are conscious each - Of each--a Deep, a waiting beach! - A shell, a Sea that doth beseech! - - How all unswift my eyes to see - The universal God in Thee, - Who walked the waves of Galilee! - - Give, freely give--Thou dost not dole! - Pour chrismal balm upon my soul! - Anoint me from Thy golden bowl! - - - IV. - - In travail, pain, grief, joy, the wave - Slumbers nor sleeps the earth to save-- - This word the blissful God He gave, - - Ere yesterday in Palestine - Love's flagon poured the ruddy wine, - Life of the universal Vine. - - - V. - - The tameless tides, unresting, seethe; - I rest me, for He works beneath; - Peace! peace! the toiling waters breathe. - - Peace, healing peace, in murmuring main, - In brooding sky fanned by lone crane! - The sunbeams bicker in the Lane-- - - Peace on the lighter's falling sail! - Peace on the ships that breast the gale! - And peace in human hearts that fail! - - - - - THE STORMY PETREL. - - - Fair hero, brave hero of sea-- - The sea in its darkness of wrath! - I run down the breaker with thee, - I mount the next in its path. - - Our hearts beat together, charmed one, - Lift their wings as fearless as free, - Ride the gloom as if 'twere the sun - Gold-bridled for you and for me. - - Summer rain, the cold drifting sleet - That whistles as spiteful as hail! - A roadstead, the billows that fleet - Under the black lash of the gale! - - We laugh at their seething, their roar, - Draw our breath full in their face; - We have wings, we know we can soar,-- - Your secret and mine in embrace! - - (Wings, wings, the soul of our life! - Outspread they victory tell,-- - Upliftings amid gulfs of strife, - Wafts of heaven that keep us from hell!) - - Brave hero, winged hero of sea-- - The sea with black tempest in breast, - Here we mount on the breakers, free, - Soon to soar into calm, into rest! - - - - - OBLIVION. - - - I. - - The all-devouring sea! I said,-- - While looking on the green- and red- - Ribbed rocks a-tilt that flank Sharp's Head: - - The diary of the rain cloud driven - To yield again its spoil by heaven, - The west wind serving the replevin-- - - Notes of the ocean's teeming floor, - The carven shell, the seaweed's spore, - And ripple-marks of tidal shore-- - - Vast tablets of the world of eld, - A mighty Bodleian unspelled, - By ravine into dust compelled! - - The hills are fated to their fall. - Upon the great, upon the small, - Oblivion drops her raven pall. - - - II. - - And then I thought: The form and mass - May baffle ken of eye and glass, - And yet the record may not pass. - - Tittle and jot, where all seems nil, - A finer form in form may still - Wait touch of that which doth fulfil. - - - III. - - The liquid air, unseen, unheard, - Writes in an everlasting word - The wing-beats of the hasting bird. - - The sweet light leaves, and bears abroad, - A picture of the wide realms trod - With wingėd feet gold sandal-shod; - - Etching in truth and beauty's grace, - Beyond compare of antique vase, - On fronting hills the other's face. - - Nor shoreless deeps of space debar - Blazon on earth of records far, - In greening orb or burning star. - - - IV. - - I said: Coined for exchange in mart - Of purblind men with leaden heart, - This word Oblivion on life's chart! - - Deft science' balance now prevails-- - This simulacrum in the scales, - The verdict to the counter nails. - - - V. - - And then, distraught by onward sweep - Of meditation long and deep, - I sought me out a place to weep-- - - O soul, may not thy leaves, I mused, - Stirred by death's shock through all diffused, - Reveal thy story unconfused, - - Clear traced by thought's all-subtle beam-- - A quickened palimpsest agleam, - Re-orient out of dusk and dream! - - - - - SEA MUSIC. - - (_For dramatic orchestration._) - - - I. - - Fleecy white waters, - Shorn by the tempest, - Wrathful and doomful - Rolling to land! - - Naked and lustrous, - Fiercest of smiters, - Straight for the stern cliffs, - Iron to steel! - - Shock unto shock calls, - Boom answers boom, - Roars the huge tide-loom, - Thunder and storm! - - Torn are the vast webs - Woven of tumult, - Flung to the cloud-rack, - Tatters of sound! - - - II. - - The glistening waters again - Are marching loyal and true - Under the hollow sky,-- - A hundred million of men - Throbbing as fiery dew - Under the morning's eye! - - List to the repetend note, - Multiplex tone of the sea, - Refrain of grief, of mirth, - On violet air afloat - Far borne to mountain and lea, - To the home of its birth. - - List as its music unbraids:-- - _Rivulets pour from the hill, - Winds wash the lips o' the trees, - The brook by the rocky glades - Brattles its way to the mill - Through fields adream with bees._ - - _Forests of pine and of fir - Plain as their dark plumes are fret - By the free-coursing winds; - Alder and golden birch stir - To notes too sweet to forget, - Sung by brook as it winds._ - - Hark! _The lone laugh of the auk - As 'twere a disprisoned soul come - From out the shining foams! - And the loon's "ha! ha!" and mock - 'Mid the torn surf's booming drum, - Or hushed tide's star-sprent domes!_ - - _The ringdove coos in the grove, - The cataract's thunders jar, - Rapids swirl white and hiss; - Peoples in temples of love - Echo their anthems afar, - Diapasons of bliss._ - - Great flux of the world, O sea, - Blood of earth's wild pulsing veins - Beating to orbs afar, - Your life and mine cannot be - Unlinked with God's joys and pains - Here or in throbbing star! - - List as its music unbraids, - List to the much-sounding sea, - List to the repetend note, - Multiplex tone of the sea,-- - Refrain of grief, of mirth, - On violet air afloat - Far borne to mountain and lea, - To the home of its birth. - - - - - SUMMER FOG. - - - I. - - Waft of beaten brine of the Bay, - Tonic keen as steel in strife, - Blowing wet and cool in my face, - Tang of bitter savor of life! - - - II. - - Billows calm of whitest fog, - Over ships and homes now roll,-- - Breath of seas in quest of heaven, - Groping blind as human soul, - Blearing, hiding, muffling all,-- - Life itself laid under the shroud! - - - III. - - Breath-blown veils of faltering mist, - Filmy dreams of luminous cloud, - Shifting curtains fret with air, - Noiseless sped as northern lights; - Opening, shutting gaps of blue, - Gleams and glories, glooms and nights! - - Torn by winds and riven in spray, - Borne afar o'er pine trees tall, - Clinging round the mountain crests, - Melt in azure roofing all! - - - IV. - - Mystic phantom, mime of life: - Witching visions, vanishing play, - Belts of shadow, rending veils, - Cloudless dome of perfect day! - - - V. - - Come again, white vapor of seas, - Blow thy pungent balm in my face, - Soft illusions weave o'er earth, - Charm me up to heaven's embrace! - - - - - THE ARETHUSA. - - - A pearly boat am I, - From Silver Crag I hail, - Wrought of the sea and sky, - Freighted with moonbeams pale. - - I hoist my purple sails - To catch the starbeam's gold, - And furl them in the gales - The sun blows overbold. - - Rainbows and flying tints, - The sunset's crimson glow, - A thousand gleams and glints - All day do come and go. - - But as the silver moon - Rolls up the breathless blue, - And all the stars in swoon - Are hidden from my view, - - I ope my hatches wide - And lade with pearl and sheen, - To deck my home-bound bride, - The Basin's peerless queen. - - - - - DIAN AND FUNDY. - - (DESIGNS FOR A TIME-PIECE.) - - - I. - - _The Enchantress._ - - In silver shoon, on sapphire pavement clear, - Fair Dian walks the overarching night; - Her spell she lays--great Fundy leaps with cheer! - She breaks--he flees in elemental might! - - - II. - - _The Lovers._ - - Dian, pale Dian, sailing the upper sea, - Searching for lover lost on earth's lone beach; - And Fundy, forward, backward, ceaselessly, - By love's impulsions borne to utmost reach. - - - III. - - _Art and Science._ - - Dian, with silver robe from her shoulders flung, - And Fundy, with his tidal arc and gauge, - Beating as a great pendulum forth-swung, - The seconds of the geologic age. - - - - - THE OLD FISHER'S SONG. - - - From the broad-shouldered Cobequids we saw - Prone Blomidon in lotos-eyed repose, - The immemorial vigil lapst to dream. - The Basin lay as if in calm of swoon. - Upon the bosom of the breathing tide - The drifting ships, wide-winged in air, in sea, - Sailed double on a single keel--a ship - In either stilly heaven, above, beneath. - The day was warm, and as we lay beside - The woodland brook and watched the pinfish play, - We saw the sky within a silver pool, - Like a great vase of lapis lazuli - Veined with the feathery spray of cirrus cloud, - While cumuli in spotless beauty bloomed - Therein--a garden of the gods! And all - The pool seemed fragrant with a myriad sweets. - - "There's promise of fair morrow," Harold said, - "The witness of the sea and wood is one: - The hissing brine, moonstruck, comes vengeful up - Its iron gateways with remorseless flood-- - This little brook in rage and foam tears through - A hundred hills--each sets a mirror at - Our feet of beauty's self. And so, I ween, - The fury of the age will end as full - Of calm as are this sea and pool of heaven." - - And breasting an old path to the carved shore - Where fell at ebb the sea-green billows clear,-- - A path o'ertangled thick with alder hung - With tags that take the rich brown Vandyke loved, - And cool with dusky air in which, all still, - Eye-bright and fronded fern and lichened spruce - Swam deep in voiceless sea of wildwood balm-- - My eye had sight of emerald moss and bells - That wreathed the bearded rocks that once were fire. - - "Ho! here is where the fisher lives who sings - All day while fingering nets, and chants the tide - To sleep," cried Harold, "as he tends his seines - At night. Some three-score souls like his would make - A state, and one such state the golden age. - This old man never knows when spring is past, - But pipes a robin song from May to May, - A fresh-blown breezy song of coming good-- - He's piping now!" - - _Heirs of the century, - Sons of the next, - Hearten your spirits, - Your souls keep unvext. - There's an ebb in the tide, - There's an open sea wide, - But where sun and star dart, - You've a trustworthy chart._ - - Beside the wave-worn cliffs, - Painted with rainbows of a thousand storms, - We sat us down, and took on grateful cheek - And brow the waking winds that yestermorn, - Far out Atlantic's grey unresting wastes, - In awful tempest smote the full-winged ship - And pluckt it naked to the hungry deep. - "Peace is of conflict born," I said, "and good - Seems rooted oft in ill. Man gropes in fog, - And is a child tost in a cockle-shell. - The stars wink over him and then are gone, - The sun is not, and when he deems he's lost, - The shore breaks forth in silver welcome sweet." - - _Care for the coming man, - Heirs of the race, - Hearten your spirits, - Gird! quicken your pace! - There's a sound in the air, - There are trumpets ablare, - But there's nothing to dread, - You've God overhead._ - - "The Sirens once were symbol of chief fears - That met the hardy mariner on life's main," - Said Harold, musingly, "but now the coast - Is set with sirens groaning lest he touch - The isles mist-veiled and hooded white with fog, - But cruel as the Sisters twain of death. - Science, to-day, the witchery of the past - Turns into truth to guide the course of man, - Tracks to its lair disease, and bolt and flame - Subdues to service of the struggling race; - While breeze of health begins to fan alike - The cheeks of rich and poor in city ways, - And wisdom cries aloud in every street." - - _You of the world-ages, - Saviors of man, - Hearten your spirits, - Lay open God's plan. - Labor hungers and wastes - While love tarries nor hastes, - Yet the note's round and clear, - The full time draweth near._ - - "But what of man's grim lust and greed?" said I. - "The comradeship of stars and night is not - More awful than is that of man with sin, - Nor shows more steadfast purpose 'gainst the light. - The sky and air fresh-washed with summer rain - Forthwith begin to cloud with haze and smoke - Till smit again with lightning's wrath, and torn - By buffet of the thunder's pealing voice. - So hath it been with man, till judgment-ire - Reddens in vain to purge his murky sky - And flash the light of God upon his soul. - The beastly lure of drunkenness that cloaks - Itself in the white mantle of the Christ; - Delusion's wand that prints mirage for sight - On eyes of civic crowds, and nations, too, - Or, unclean, faith assoils in simple hearts; - The simpering guile that toys with capital - And robs the workman of his honest wage, - While like the surgy murmurs of the sea - Sounds out the moan of willing labor's voice - For bread to fill its famished children's mouths; - The lust of power to sit in place of God - And turn for selfish ends the wheels of fate - Of fellowman,--these wait a day of doom!" - - _Heirs of the century, - Sons of renown, - Lift up humanity's - Broad kingdom and crown. - There's a purpose replete, - To put all 'neath man's feet, - And we see it begun - In the Virgin's crowned Son._ - - "Injustice," Harold said, with eye that burned - Like a star, "_is_ the devil's own trade-mark, - And hottest comes from hell through saintly hands! - The race of man is in the making yet. - Hypocrisy still deftly apes true worth-- - Thus prophesying universal good. - Nature is non-committal of her end, - But God is hiding not man's destiny. - Yon fitful beacon flares the dark night through, - And then the kindling clouds, day's heralds, burn - In golden dawn. Earth's skyward crags, which thirst - For news from God, are bathed in heavenly light, - And from their sunrise shoulders the full morn - Shoots far the splendors of its coming noon. - The shadows of a fleeing night yet dim - The age and mask a hundred ills as good, - More eager graspt at since they haste away; - But from the slopes there pours a clear new light, - Divinely aired, above that of the sun. - Philosophy of schools, nor science wise, - Nor labor, of itself, life's secret finds, - That fills the promise of man's vermeil bloom. - 'Tis love alone can sheathe the alien sword, - And crown mankind in his own kingdom lord." - - _Heirs of the coming age, - Makers of man, - The Christ be your pattern, - Ay, choose with elan. - There's a presence at hand, - There's a voice of command-- - It is Love, King of men, - Alleluia, Amen!_ - - And as we turned toward home by open beach, - The waves were loud in clamor on the shore; - But over all, and far away, we caught - The drifting chant of the old Christian seer: - - _It is Love, King of men, - Alleluia, Amen!_ - - - - - NORA LEE. - - - I. - - Away from Howth into the south - A stanch brave ship left harbor-mouth. - - The _Easter Bell_, all sails a-swell, - Gallantly swept to sea they tell, - - And Nora flamed like one ashamed, - When her fair sailor-man they named. - - - II. - - Three moons did heap the cresting deep - Since Nora Lee was wed at Dreep. - - Up from the dim grey ocean's rim - No tidings came of ship, or him. - - A sea-gull's wing would make her sing, - And eye with smiles her wedding-ring. - - If signal high flew in the sky, - She knew the _Easter Bell_ was nigh, - - And pulled a rose, as wife that knows - Her good man cometh at the close. - - The white ship came--'twas not the name! - And Nora Lee was not the same. - - - III. - - The kraken grim, in dream, did swim - Beside the _Easter Bell_, and him. - - The ocean swell and harbor bell - Chimed in an endless passing knell. - - In gleaming green of breaker's sheen, - The pallid light of death was seen. - - The shaping clouds, the mist, like shrouds, - Floated in ever-thickening crowds,-- - - Till piping wind her blood did bind, - Froze by the phantoms of the mind. - - - IV. - - "Cheer up, good wife," the neighbors rife - Said all, "the _Bell_ has charmėd life. - - "Brave Captain Head, no dawn a-red - In vain e'er signaled him, 'tis said. - - "Of all this town, from foot to crown - No sailor has so just renown. - - "The winds that blow, the reefs that grow, - Each one by heart he'd know, he'd know. - - "Some night full soon, or morn, or noon, - The _Bell_ will fly her home gossoon!" - - - V. - - The days they came and went the same, - The moons, the tides, the mists, the flame. - - And Nora said: "Since I was wed - Six moons the heaping tides have led. - - "In gloom I pine--(love makes him mine, - Alive or dead)--I'll throw the line!" - - - VI. - - She pulled a rose, as wife that knows - Her good man cometh at the close. - - Three neighbors true with her she drew - To the grey shore, and, calling, threw, - - With passionate leap, far to the deep, - The life-line good wives always keep-- - - "O Mike, my man, my dear good man! - The line, the line, my dear good man!" - - (Calling so sore adown the shore, - As fell the wintry surge's roar.) - - Across the line of foaming brine, - Low answer came that lit her eyne. - - * * * * * * * - - The neighbors three with Nora Lee - All heard the words from out the sea, - - Yet none e'er said what past the wed,-- - A fearsome awe o'er them was spread. - - - VII. - - When next moon fell, the _Easter Bell_ - Sailed into harbor, as they tell, - - With silk "gossoon" astream aboon-- - And Nora in her calm did croon, - - And softly tell: "I knew it well, - His head it tosseth with weed and shell." - - - - - TO W. - - - I. - - "Neural and hęmal arch," you say, - "Tell out man's history to-day, - Brain and mechanics have their way." - - Is structure then sole test of kin? - The ape from man, in form and skin, - Is far as holiness from sin! - - Emotion swears with hand uplift, - That beauty is no mere makeshift, - Significance divine its drift. - - Beauty of sound, articulate speech, - Lories and pyes might simians teach, - These, therefore, nearer to man reach; - - While nightingale and mocking-bird, - Approach, in music's heavenly word, - Closer than mammal e'er conferred. - - - II. - - Were structure and function parallel, - The word might break the mystic spell, - But function doth its test compel. - - Upward to man the beaver deft - In structure gains of tail bereft-- - But if there were no house-skill left!-- - - And if in structure beavers be - In tooth and larynx nearer me - Than flirting blackbird in ash-tree, - - His song beyond all such control - Comes up in kindred echo-roll, - With those that tremble in my soul. - - - III. - - True, in mechanics there is seen - A gross resemblance in the mien - Of ape and man--thought nigh unclean! - - But grosser want of function's shewn - Of human attribute and tone,-- - Sweet rhythmic utterance unknown; - - Beauty of form, proportion fair, - And dignity--all wanting there, - Though neural and hęmal arch compare! - - - IV. - - Of structure, all you find is that - A function it performs, whereat - A thus or thus of sight's come at. - - And yet you truly know far more-- - Feeling from out her open door - Affirms, in speech of beauty's lore: - - "O, awesome!" "beauteous!" "pleasant too!" - "Inspiriting!" "ennobling!" "true!" - Or contrariwise--each as is due. - - But no account of this you take; - Your thoughts are polarized, and make - An open sea of a tiny lake. - - - V. - - You don't believe the colors of birds - And insects are God's painted words - To please the master of His herds! - - "Mere marks ancestral, once of use, - Now useless as an empty cruse-- - Derived, but not designed," your truce. - - Yet why such skilful pains bestow, - That colors _once_ had use, to shew? - Vain zeal, since that you cannot know. - - Fruitless your words! Is it not plain, - "Designed" or not, like April rain, - The end achieved _is_ man's high gain? - - - VI. - - 'Tis folly to attempt truth's goal - With logic got of half the soul,-- - Truth will not have the half, but whole. - - Beauty, God's gladness seen in time, - Lights up Truth's calm white face sublime - With radiance of the golden prime! - - Shall you and I look down for light? - Nay, upward let us fix our sight, - Downward's the awful gulf of night. - - - - - MARIE DEPURE. - - - Not with her outward eyes, but with her mind, - Her living soul, her faith,--for she was blind-- - Marie Depure, with simple, loving heart, - Had seen the Christ, and chosen the good part. - - She never thought with Milton, in his pride, - "Does God exact day labor, light denied?" - But gave her willing hands as one who saw, - Deftly to plait for use the yellow straw. - - With humble workers of her craft she wrought - For daily bread, and Christ's great lesson taught, - That love the life far more than meat regards, - And body, more than raiment sweet with nards. - - For when the pastor, who, like John, had leaned - Upon the Master's breast, spoke words that yeaned - The pity of his heart for those that sit - In heathen night, nor know Christ's torch is lit; - - Marie Depure, her soul winged like a dove - Eager to bear the news of light and love, - Gave of her humble toil more than they all,-- - Since love makes willing answer to Love's call. - - Amazed, the man of God to Marie said: - "Your gift is great, a part I take instead;" - But she, with sweet insistence, spake him, "Nay, - I'm richer far than those who see the day. - - "These workers of the golden straw buy oil, - When darkness falls, that they may see to toil; - But I am blind, I need no oil for light,-- - I give this love-lit lamp for darker night." - - Marie Depure! A sweet and gracious beam - Speed from thy burning lamp, a Christ-like gleam, - To those who in the darkness sit, and some - Who, without serving, pray, "Thy Kingdom Come!" - - - - - "BY THE LOVE." - - AN EASTER IDYLL. - - Twelve months agone - The beauteous face, all white with pity as - A wave with foam, sank in the dusk of death. - Four summers and the wafture of the fifth - Had poured their cataract of gold far down - The shining shoulders of the seraph boy, - While love, a father's and a mother's, hung - Above its laughter like a thing divine. - - O golden head that drifted down to death! - Sweet eye and voice by silence swift devoured! - Dawn's kiss upon the forehead of the day! - The fresh-blown surge of grief was stilled, - And halcyon hope her azure wings outspread - As all the hollow sky on Easter morn - Was, like a lily, filled with golden light. - Swift through the hush of death the thrill of life - Touched the still chords of the fair mother's heart, - And woke unquenchable desire to lay - White lilies from the darksome mother-earth - Upon the tomb, where circled, like a dove, - Her wingėd hopes,--the tomb where long ago - White angels watched the birth of Life anew. - - Beside the lilied mound she lingered long. - Her rising soul pushed at the gates of death, - Till, like a creek from which the moon has drunk - The tide, they yawned empty and bare of hope. - All spectral grew her heart with tearless grief - As some sweet plot of lichens reft of rain. - "There are no angels now," she said, "to roll - The stone away. O that He now were here - To raise my dead, if 'tis not all a myth!" - And as she spoke she lift a bitter face - Into the eyes of the bright Easter day. - - Not far away she saw a little child - Of scarce five years, and drawing near she knew - Him one who never felt a mother's kiss,-- - Now sitting at the grave where one long month - Had slept his father,--kith nor kin bequeathed - The boy in the wide circle of the earth. - She knew that, rose and rosebud on one stem, - Father and child had crimsoned life with love, - And that the wind of death had snatched - The rose and left the unsheltered bud alone; - Yet blinded by the night of her own grief - Scarce had she seen his golden day's eclipse. - Now swift she marked the tender mobile lips, - The spirit-light aglow in eye, on brow, - And the rare beauty of the noble face. - - "Is your name Mary," fearlessly he asked, - "Who with the angels talked when the great stone - Was rolled away?--" "O no, dear child," she said,-- - "Whom are you looking for?" With reverent mien, - Yet eager voice, "For Jesus," said the child. - "O Jesus is not here, my darling boy, - He's risen, you know." "Yes," said the wistful face, - "I've waited here all day for Him to come - And raise my father up. I thought perhaps - He sent you, 'tis so late, to bid me stay - A little--O 'tis never too late for - Jesus!" he said, and brushed away the tear; - "He's sure to come, for 'tis the Rising-Day." - - The woman stoopt to kiss the wondrous boy, - And sat beside him there upon the grave, - And sobbed like organ swept by the master's hand. - - "What makes you cry?--perhaps your father's here - To be raised up?" "No darling,--but my child." - He stroked the woman's hand: "Don't cry," he said, - "Jesus does not forget the Rising-Day, - He'll surely come and give to you your child - And me my father--He will come to-night. - I saw the two men who from Emmaus came, - Go by at early morn, and Jesus will - Meet them, and turn and this way come, as they - In wonder all about His dying talk, - And rising too. The men will know Him not, - But I shall, and will call to Him to stop - And raise my father up." "How shall you know - Him, my dear boy?" she asked. "O by His smile, - And by the picture father shewed me once, - But" (with his hand upon his heaving breast) - "I'll know Him best by the love I keep in here." - "Shall you?" she said, "and are you sure you'll know - Your father?" "My own father!" said the boy, - With wondering voice, "I'll know him by the love, - And so will you your child. They will not look - The same, for Jesus did not, but they knew - Him by His love." And finer grew the face - As the fond lingering voice, in love's own tones, - Repeated: "And we'll know them by the love." - - Moveless a moment, as the tide at full, - Her heart hung in a balance, and as its - Tremulous deeps swayed to the signs of heaven, - Its wave broke o'er the banks of self to life. - - "Philip," she cried, and clasped him in her arms, - "Jesus has gone to heaven, and I am sent - By Him to take you to your father now. - Come!" With faith strong as is the noonday sight, - Instant the child clasped home her trembling hand, - And passed without the gates, nor backward lookt. - Silent he went, for expectation held - Him fast, and a great light was on her face. - - Entering her home, she bade that food be given - The famished boy; and when the maid brought milk, - Honey and bread with broilėd fish, he said, - With exultation: "Now I know this is - The house--it's all here just the same, and He'll - Be here to-night." With wingėd feet the wife - Sped up the stair to meet her husband's step, - And in a rapture told him all, and of - The wonder-heart below. "Heaven, a fair child, - An angel boy, has sent our stone to roll - Away! For us his vision is no less - Than for himself. O husband, this is life's - Supremest hour for us!--'_I shall know him - By the love_,' sweetly he says."--"It shall be - So indeed!" cried the father's yearning heart. - - As she returned, the child most eager said, - In a sweet voice half-sob, but full of hope, - "O wash my face and comb my hair, before - I see my father--'tis not too late yet?" - The touch of the ineffable child-trust - Pierced deep her heart, yet with assuring tones - The words fell: "Philip, come, let us now go - To him." - - The arras opened on a face - Noble and winsome sweet, though smiles were close - To tears. As azure bird on mountain stream - Halts a brief moment on some jutting crag, - Ere as a flash of streaming light it cleaves - The dewy darkness of the trickling dell; - So for a moment halted the sweet child, - Took one step forward, and then leapt into - The arms where death-shade once was deep as night, - But where commingling love now glads the gloom, - All lit by the sweet azure of the heart. - With head thrown back, and questioning eyes agaze: - "Father--you're--changed!" he said, "but by the love, - We know each other--by the love, the love!" - The father's heaving heart did echo sweet, - "The love, the love!" - - And nestling down upon - The manly breast, the curly head, soft-stroked, - And soothed with all the lullabies of love, - Was rocked, like harbored sail, to rest of sleep, - Lapt in the love which fed his simple faith, - And poured a golden Easter in the heart - Of her who groped in darkness 'mong the tombs. - - - - -NOTES. - - -Page 17. _and erst "rose noble" bore thy grace._--The -"rose noble," an ancient English gold coin, first minted -by Edward III., was stamped with the figure of the rose. - -19. _The phantom of the buried tide._--This phenomenon -is not infrequently seen in the evenings of the last of -August or early September. It is caused by the condensation -of the invisible vapor of the air resting on the -dyked lands--the former sea-bed. As the condensed -vapor lies close upon the ground, the illusion of a full -sea is complete in the moonlight, the shore line and -creeks being perfectly traced. - -28. _The title deeds of these rich shores are thine._--Geologists -affirm that Partridge Island is older than the -mainland, or than the other islands mentioned. - -29. TENNYSON ROCK.--This rock is the pinnacle of -Pinnacle Island (one of the Five Islands, Basin of -Minas). The rock is solitary, and nearly two hundred -feet high at low water,--a seated figure strongly resembling, -as seen from the Basin, Lord Tennyson in his old -age--with his cloak about him. - -32. GLOOSCAP.--The divine man of the Micmac Indians. -His home was on the shores of the Basin of -Minas, particularly at Partridge Island, the Five Islands, -and Blomidon. He sailed away "into the west," because -of the wickedness of men and beasts, not to return till -they should heed his voice. (See "Legends of the -Micmacs," gathered by the late Rev. Silas Tertius Rand, -D.D., LL.D, of Hantsport, Nova Scotia, and published -by Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass.) - -40. DAY AND NIGHT.--The last three lines of the -sonnet refer to the "afterglow," which often appears (at -Minas Basin) from half an hour to an hour or more after -the first sunset colors have entirely faded into dusk. - -45. MAYFLOWER.--_The Trailing Arbutus._ - -48. THE GHOST FLOWER.--The _monotropa uniflora_,--a -true flower, not a fungus. It grows in the deep -shadows, the entire flower and stalk being colorless and -wax-like. It has white, wax-like bracts in place of green -leaves. The cup nods, and stalk and flower together -often form an interrogation point (which fact, it will be -observed, determines the cast of the sonnet). The flower -is widely known as the Ghost Flower, but is often called -Indian Pipe. - -52. MCMASTER UNIVERSITY.--Founded as a distinctively -Christian university, by the late William -McMaster, of Toronto, merchant, founder of the Bank -of Commerce, and a member of the Senate of the -Dominion of Canada. - -54. _Areopagus ... Furies._--The sessions of the -Areopagus, the highest judicial court at Athens, were -held on Mars' Hill. The Cave of the Furies was -beneath the same rock. - -66. _And shewed the prints of palfrey's shoe._--These -tiny horse-shoe prints, many of them sharp and perfect -even to the nail-heads, may be seen in abundance on the -branches of any horse-chestnut tree. - -82. _Had I two loaves of bread_,--Mohammed. _Or let -me die_--Wordsworth,--uttered in view of his emotion at -the sight of the rainbow. - -84. THE DRAGONFLY.--The species of neuropterous -insects referred to in the poem deposit their eggs in -water. The grub lives at the bottom of the lake or -pond, creeping on the submerged parts of aquatic plants -and feeding on aquatic insects. When the final transformation -is about to take place, the body of the insect -becomes swollen until, lighter than the water, it rises to -the surface. As its skin dries, it splits at the back, and -the perfect insect comes forth, with body and wings quite -soft and moist. When dry, the wings expand, until -presently the insect spreads them, and soaring upwards, -begins to dart to and fro in the full enjoyment of its new -and wondrous life. - -115. _The moon at her utmost poised._--The moon is in -meridian at high water in the Bay of Fundy. - -159. "BY THE LOVE": AN EASTER IDYLL.--The -story on which this poem is founded was published in -the _Congregationalist_, by Helen Strong Thompson, as a -true incident of the Easter of 1894. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes - - -Words surrounded by _ are italicized. - -Small capitals are presented as all capitals in this e-text. - -Apparent printer's errors and inconsistent spellings have been retained. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's At Minas Basin and Other Poems, by Theodore H. Rand - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT MINAS BASIN AND OTHER POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 53435-8.txt or 53435-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/4/3/53435/ - -Produced by Judith Wirawan, Larry B. 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