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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d089a91 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60146 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60146) diff --git a/old/60146-0.txt b/old/60146-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2ffebcd..0000000 --- a/old/60146-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2714 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret Way, by Zona Gale - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Secret Way - -Author: Zona Gale - -Release Date: August 21, 2019 [EBook #60146] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET WAY *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - THE SECRET WAY - - _By_ - ZONA GALE - - - BIRTH - CHRISTMAS - MOTHERS TO MEN - HEART’S KINDRED - FRIENDSHIP VILLAGE - NEIGHBORHOOD TALES - PEACE IN FRIENDSHIP VILLAGE - WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL - FRIENDSHIP VILLAGE LOVE STORIES - THE LOVES OF PELLEAS AND ETTARRE - - [Illustration: portrait of the author. - - Copyrighted by E. O. Hoppé] - - - - - THE SECRET WAY - - BY - ZONA GALE - - New York - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 1921 - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - COPYRIGHT, 1921, - BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. - - Set up and printed. Published September, 1921. - - - Press of - J. J. Little & Ives Company - New York, U. S. A. - - - “A great life, an entire civilization lies just outside the pale of - common thought.... Such life is different from any yet imagined.... - I see as clearly as the noonday that this is not all. I see other - and higher conditions than existence.... The very idea that there - is another Idea is something gained.” - - --RICHARD JEFFRIES. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -PART I - -(EARLY VERSE) - - PAGE - - THE SECRET WAY 4 - - TERZA RIMA: - - I OLD TALK 8 - - II MAGIC 1 - -III NIGHT IS HERE 13 - - BALLADES OF THREE SENSES: - - I BALLADE OF EYES THAT SEE 14 - - II BALLADE OF LISTENING 16 - - III BALLADE OF OLD PERFUMES 18 - - HALF THOUGHTS 20 - - SONNETS AND VARIATIONS: - - WHEN DID SPRING DIE? 22 - - ONE DAWN SHE AWOKE ME 23 - - THERE ARE WITHIN US LIVES WE NEVER LIVE 24 - - LAST NIGHT I DREAMED I SAW MY MOTHER YOUNG 25 - - WHY AM I SILENT? 26 - - I WANDERED WHERE THE WONDER OF THE SKY-- 27 - - HERE A HILL FIELD 28 - - RETURN 29 - - BY MY SIDE ALL DAY ANOTHER WENT 30 - - IN J. P. P.’S METRE: - - I 31 - - II 32 - -III (TO A POET) 33 - - EXERCISE IN SPENSERIANS 35 - - -PART II - - I KNOW WHERE A DOVE 51 - - PROLOCUTOR 52 - - WONDER 53 - - A MEETING 54 - - HALF THOUGHT 55 - - EPITAPHS 56 - - ALIAS 57 - - IN ARVIA’S ROOM 58 - - HALF THOUGHT 64 - - UMBRA 65 - - WRAITHS 66 - - HALF THOUGHT 67 - - WIND SONG 68 - - HALF THOUGHT 70 - - TROTH 71 - - BELOVED, IT IS DAYBREAK ON THE HILLS 72 - - CREDO 73 - - WHO IS THIS THAT IS SO NEAR? 74 - - INMOST ONE 75 - - STONE CELL 77 - - LIGHT 78 - - HALF THOUGHT 81 - - CONTOURS 82 - - -PART III - - NEWS NOTES OF PORTAGE, WISCONSIN: - - I KILBOURN ROAD 85 - -II VIOLIN 91 - -III NORTH STAR 96 - - PROSE NOTES: - - THE BUREAU 98 - - MINUET 99 - - THE DINING ROOM 101 - - PARADISE AND PURGATORY 103 - - AT LEAST 105 - - ROSES 106 - - SPRING EVENING 109 - - SECOND SIGHT 109 - - DOES SOMETHING WAIT? 113 - - DOORS 114 - - LEVITATION 116 - - ENCHANTMENT 118 - - - - - PART I - - EARLY VERSE - - - - - THE SECRET WAY - - - Stark on the window’s early grey - Lined out in squares by casement bars, - She saw her lily lift to take - The sinking stars. - - Within the room’s delaying dark - Intimate things lay dim and still - With all their day-time friendliness - Gone false and chill. - - Her hand upon the coverlet, - Her face low in the linen’s cleft, - They were as wan as water-flowers - By light bereft. - - And never was bloom brought to her couch - But shed the odour of a sigh - Because she was as white as they, - And they must die. - - “O Pale, lit deep within the dark - Of your young eyes, a stifled light - Leaps thin and keen as melody - And leavens night. - - “It is a light that did not burn - When you were gay at mart and fair; - O Pale, what is that starry fire, - Fed unaware?” - - Then softly she: “I may not tell - What other eyes behold in mine; - But I have melted night and day - In some wild wine. - - “I may not read the graven cup - Exhaustless as a brimming bell - Distilling silver; but I drank - And all is well. - - “One morn like this, bitter still, - I waited for the early stir - Of those who slept the while I watched - What muffled wonders were. - - “I saw my lily on the sill; - I saw my mirror on the wall - Take light that was not; and I saw - My spectral taper tall. - - “Why I had known these quiet things - Since I could speak. Yet suddenly - They all touched hands and in one breath - They spoke to me. - - “I may not tell you what they said. - The strange part is that I must lie - And never tell you what we say---- - These things and I. - - “I only know that common things - Bear sudden little spirits set - Free by the rose of dawn and by - Night’s violet. - - “I only know that when I hear - Clear tone, the haunted echoes bear - Legions of little winged feet - On printless air. - - “And when warm colour weds my look - A word is uttered tremblingly, - With meaning fall--but I know not - What it may be. - - “I only know that now I find - Abiding beauty everywhere; - Or if it bide not, that it fades - Is still more fair. - - I long to question those I love - And yet I know not what to say; - I am alone as one upon - Some secret way. - - “My words are barren of my bliss; - The strange part is that I must lie - And never tell you what we say-- - These things and I. - - “So will it be when I am not. - A little more perhaps to tell; - Yet then as now I may not say - What I know well.” - - She died when all the east was red. - And we are they who know her fate - Because we love the way of life - That she had found too late. - - - - - TERZA RIMA - - - I: OLD TALK - - Old Eyelot sees what never is. - She says: “Pale lights move on the hill, - Deep in the air are treasuries.” - - She says: “I never go to mill - Wood-way but something walks with me, - So go wood-way I always will. - - Wood-walking, I go mad to see - What will die out just as I turn - To catch it by the crooked tree. - - I pass the bush that I saw burning - With wild black flame at full of moon. - That was a sight to set one learning - - What things one merely doubts at noon. - A-well, I know not what I learned. - God send that you may learn it soon. - - Windows for walls, thoughts that have turned - Back into folk, gateways of horn, - And the wild hearts that men have burned, - - These things I see. And ay, one morn - I saw the little people bear - Away my little child new-born. - - They gave her food yielded in air, - Honey and rose-down. - I looked and she was very fair. - - So when the people of the town - (Who did not know) believed her dead - And wrapped her in a cloudy gown - - I did not mourn. I only said: - “She is the daughter of the Day - And with the Night she has been wed. - - “I am the mother of that one - Born for two worlds. And I am she - Who sees more things than moon and sun - And little stars will ever see.” - - * * * - - Old Eyelot sees what never is. - She says: “Green lights move on the leas, - Deep in the air are treasuries.” - I wonder what old Eyelot sees? - - - II: MAGIC - - An ancient wildwood showed its heart to me. - (O Little Wind that brought me what it said!) - I went within its great nave reverently. - - There dwelt the silence ever lightly wed - With winged sound. There the persuading green - Took ancient citadels with soundless tread. - - Was not the opening blue of buds between - Soft solitary leaves a lyric set - To music of the things that lift and lean? - - My hands were mother-tender of the net - Of silk they found. My feet were light - To loose no dew from the least violet. - - The fragile fabric of dissolved night - Seemed in the air. A million little minds - Kept concert in the very realm of sight. - - O--and suddenly as sunlight finds - White towers I heard the ancient wood unfold - Its ancient secret piped by little winds. - - “Behold the beauty in me. O behold - The beauty that makes utter peace, in me; - Beauty that is immeasurably old.” - - The whole world like a bell heard echoingly. - Words wonderful! I found a fairy bed - And saw that which the wildwood let me see. - (O Little Wind that brought me what it said!) - - - III: NIGHT IS HERE - - Night is here and star-rise - And demeanour of the dark. - Visioned by my closed eyes - - Now I lie within an arc. - Lyric loom, - All the silence is a-hark - - For a poppy bud to bloom - In some flowery harmony - Woven through this quiet room. - - Prick of light and shadow take me, - Fire and stars and voices keep, - Fairy clamour will not wake me ... - ... Sleep. - - But that warm grave of sleep - Nothing save myself immures. - Singing light and dreaming deep - Now my spirit walks with yours. - - - - - BALLADES OF THREE SENSES - - - I - - BALLADE OF EYES THAT SEE - - Leaves loosened when there blow - No winds; long fields whose green - Dim beneath the darling bow - Of the May-moon is seen; - Robins at dawn; the keen - Sour odour of vines--these show - Frail meanings caught between - The bourne of yes and no. - Yet there is tender art - To fathom what they mean, - Deep in the heart. - - I go among them. Now I lean - Where willows fret the flow - Of water that has been - For miles to glean. - And in the osiers--O - An ouphe, an elfin queen. - I did not see her--lo, - The osiers did not part, - Yet she was there I ween, - Deep in the heart. - - _Envoy_ - - Spells, lay upon the screen - The things that move me so. - I ask the better part: - To see with eyes serene - What things these others know---- - Deep in the heart. - - - II - - BALLADE OF LISTENING - - On summer slopes lit white - With old desire of day, - The air with pearl bedight - Prepares for gold array. - The sun-drugged stars delay - To die; the winds take fright - And question, and betray - Frail sounds for my delight. - O voice of ancient springs! - O little echo-flight! - O harp of things! - - In grasses that lie bright, - In grasses that lie grey, - Up on the clouded height - Down in the zone of May - Are printless feet astray. - Airy the hands that smite - The lyre in nameless lay; - And the great gods invite - Echo of earth chantings - On quiet wing away. - O--harp of things! - - _Envoy_ - - Harp, is it this that you say? - “Delicate is my might, - Quickening the voice that sings; - For I am sense grown fey. - I am word of the morn and the night.” - O harp of things! - - - III - - BALLADE OF OLD PERFUMES - - Now out of dream old springs - Flow soft with many red - And golden fluttering things. - Sweetly from underhead - All the wan air is fed - With faint rememberings - Of hours long buried. - Rose-rumours steal and stir; - They come on wind-like wings. - The old odours that were - Nard and mint and myrrh. - - I think that as there clings - Colour to blossoms shed, - So love and all that sings, - So hearts that beat and bled - Were with old fragrance wed. - Now when the garden flings - On many a secret thread - Sweets to the wanderer, - Some buried witch-bell rings - The old odours that were - Nard and mint and myrrh. - - _Envoy_ - - Spring, let me lay my head - Where the wild season sings - Some dead girl’s heart from her. - O young heart, ages dead, - Old odours thrill mute strings. - The old odours that were - Nard and mint and myrrh. - - - - - HOKKU - - - The way that shadow fell along the floor! - I too have waited for a shadow. - - - HOKKU - - Two butterflies. Two birds. O the wide night of space. - Sweet, hold me close. - - - HOKKU - - Yellow I see is my close friend. - She can create a sun. - - - HOKKU - - I would have stayed the dawn down the dark sky. - But there were many dawns. - - - HOKKU - - A child’s faint cry. But you and I have had - A birth since birth. Only there was no cry. - - - HOKKU - - A candle flame. My love has put it out. - It did not know its bliss. Shall I, in death? - - - HOKKU - - Cloths, fans, stones slumberous, colour and fancy and lilt. - No hard straight place to be. O quiet sky. - - - HOKKU - - I made a garden. Afterward it died. - It never even knew it was a garden. - - - - - SONNETS AND VARIATIONS - - - - - WHEN DID SPRING DIE? - - - When did Spring die? I did not see her go - Down the bright lane she painted. All flower-still - She moved among her emblems on the hill - Touching away their burden of old snow. - Was it on some great down where long winds flow - That the wild spirit of Spring went out to fill - The eyes of Summer? Did a daffodil - Lift the pale urn remote where she lies low? - - O not as other moments did she die, - That woman-season outlined like a rose. - Before the banner of Autumn’s scarlet bough - The Summer fell; and Winter with a cry - Wed with March wind. Spring did not die like those - But vaguely, as if Love had prompted: Now. - - - - - ONE DAWN SHE WOKE ME---- - - - One dawn she woke me when the darkness lay - Faint on the Summer fields. The air - Was like a question. Green was grey - With dew distilled in delitesence where - Covert, the night-folk wrought. She said: “Dear one, - It is our holiday.” Forth we went - Finding new kindred, new bequest of sun, - Inheriting again the firmament. - - Long ago ... - The old years lie upon her grave like flowers. - The alchemy of hours - Has made me someone whom she would not know. - How strangely that frail morning lives and towers - When I am other and when she lies low. - - - - - THERE ARE WITHIN US LIVES WE NEVER LIVE - - - There are within us lives we never live - By sense or soul, for being does not know - To tell their depth or breast their flow - Or to taste the sweetness that they give. - And now in distance, now in voices still, - In pity or in harmony, in sleep, - We lead unconscious lives, old, deep, - Upon the far slope of an unknown hill. - - Is it not here that life walks wreathed at last? - Many a soul meets many a soul with this: - That muted lips and wistful eyes are passed - In silence; yet a sign there is - Burning in air, though but a shadow fall - Or some pale sunbeam steal along the wall. - - - - - LAST NIGHT I DREAMED I SAW MY MOTHER YOUNG - - - Last night I dreamed I saw my mother young. - I never knew her till her hair was grey; - Last night I saw the shadows lit away - And pearls about her shoulders strung. - Out from our haunts of home among - She came as if she knew them not. There lay - Old hope in her young eyes. And gay - Her speech came in some laughing tongue. - - I who had watched the stolen march of days - And would not see the theft which was their sign - Moved happily to meet her, mute with praise - For this the witchery that made her fair. - But yet the pretty hand that lay in mine - Was not the one I love upon my hair. - - - - - WHY AM I SILENT? - - - Why am I silent? Tell me how to speak - With all the sweet familiars of the way; - Call Summer by her name; and with the Day - Walk royally companioned cheek on cheek - For that faint speech awhile withheld, that weak - Task of the Word undone is the great Nay, - The winged thunder that denies the ray. - Yet once when first I saw the hapless Greek - By present impulse of the god urged on - Seek out the shadow of the awful grove, - I felt the word. I caught it once again - In a sweet flash of arrowy sun that shone - Thickening on flowers. But when - You sorrowed, Love, - I knew it then.... - - - - - I WANDERED WHERE THE WONDER OF THE SKY---- - - - I wandered where the wonder of the sky - Was wide upon me. Isle beyond isle the east - Was signing that the Summer night had ceased - Upon the dawn. Then came a stranger by - Immersed in the magic as was I. - We stood together at the sorcerer’s feast - Saying half-words; and as the day increased - We parted with a farewell almost shy. - - Something was there. There was drawn silently - Through into life some fiery, clouded thing. - O wise - For one sweet flash of time we stood to see - Death and the Inbeing - Lie dreaming in each other’s eyes. - - - - - HERE A STILL FIELD - - - Here a still field. I move within the green, - It lies aloof. Look where I will - The steady glory of noon on the hill - Lays its divine indifference on the scene. - I seem too far. I listen and I lean, - Yet never will the burying hours fulfill - One hope of nearness to the Far and Still, - But wound me with the sweet that they might mean. - - Is there no keener speech for us than this - Old incommunicable urge to know - The speech of silence.... Yes--here a still field! - What more--what more? For here the Comrade is, - The God who waits alone and would have sealed - Our compact with glad laughter long ago. - - - - - RETURN - - - How they come back ... I never see retreat - Down the long beach the phalanx of bright foam - But faint across the fields that fold them home - I hear the rhythmic fall of speeding feet. - And they who loved the garden of the sea - And died, come back. I never know a land - Of cities but there come to me - Their dead to touch my hand. - - Dead, who dare not let your eyes - Flower from the dusk and flame into our own, - Yet come you as hushed notes in harmonies - To ways of life that you have known: - Virgil in blowing spray round swift-prowed ships, - Dante in every cry of lips for lips. - - - - - BY MY SIDE ALL DAY ANOTHER WENT - - - By my side all day another went. - We breathed the cold spiced air of the Spring dark - Before the dawn; together at the hark - Of noon we listened; and we bent - To borrow from still grasses the warm scent - Of afternoon and dusk. We stood to mark - The deathless ark - Unveiled before the light was spent. - - Prodigal of sweetness that old day - I passed, nor might - See how that one beside me stooped to lay - Something aside. Now in the night - The gleaner hunts me down - Bringing regret. I wear it for a crown. - - - - - IN J. P. P.’s METRE - - - I - - Here a vine, there a voice, - Then a violin; - All the quiet is astir - Like a flute within. - - Here a light, there a leaf, - Little boughs that lean; - And the people who move by - Wonder what they mean. - - “Look,” they say, “there a star - Watching in a well; - Line and green and melody----” - Then they try to tell. - - O why ask what they mean? - What is there to win? - Have we not the light, the leaf - And the violin? - - - II - - All the air is liveried - In a kind of white; - It is not like the darkness - Or the light; - It is like the covenant - Of a clearer sight. - - Now a sudden bud is born - Burning in the dew; - There the fog rose palely lifting - All as if it knew - The faint flowing speech - Of the friendly blue. - - Oh the little hurrying wing - Like a blowing leaf; - Oh the shadows gathering in - Many a sheaf; - There a cloud is carved like some - Airy coral reef. - - Like a new sense these venture - In the veins and lo, - All the blood is musical - In its beat and flow; - And we wait wondering - What new thing we know. - - - III - - TO A POET - - Woo a little choir of words, - Teach them to sing; - Let them thrill the air like birds - Love-summoning. - Thread the silence with a lute, - Sound the spiral of a flute. - ... Vain, but vain. The words are mute. - - Open now your own heart - Where a rose may be; - Live your love and use your art, - Make melody, - For your joy, your joy is there, - Sing the secret thing you bear! - ... Only silence everywhere. - - ... Show the ancient pain that lies - With remembered things - Down the dark within your eyes - Where nothing sings. - Now at last there throng - Images that waited long, - And the silence flowers in song. - - - - - EXERCISE IN SPENSERIANS - - - The air is purged of gold and in its stead - Is poured a fire of silver on the green; - And now the moon new-risen from the dead - Of dearer nights than this finds her demesne - Lonely of stars, as they to greet their queen - Had rushed in argent riot from the blue - To spill themselves like flowers or waste unseen - In stealing perfumes that elude and woo - As now eludes now woos the wind the sweet night through. - - Down from her turret when the dusk was new - The Lady Margot stepped and lured by wile - Of faint near things that croon of what they do - With wandering touch she thought to walk the while - The hours were printless on the idle dial. - Deep in a garden lamped with lily bells - Which hold the light as does some opal vial - She took her way near where a fountain wells - And wakes its rainbow ribbons into madrigals. - - Fluttering she peered within the hollow gloom - That cloistered a wild wood beyond the wall; - For shapes are woven by the troubled loom - Of night; and tremulous tapestries oft fall - Across familiar paths and make them all - Astir with effigies that snarl and grin - And take strange steps along a horrid hall - Which is by day a lane of leaves within; - As if at night a holy nun should dream of sin. - - At length she reached a little windless glade - Fragrant with natal April not long flown - And dreamful of the days when lips were laid - On lips that trembled as they found their own. - There where the mooned close was thickest sown - With shadows was the lady met with one - Who sat with drooping head and made soft moan. - He was a stranger knight whose armour shone - Bright as the molten golden javelins of the sun. - - “What things are griefs?” the Lady Margot sighed - And moved a little nearer pityingly. - “The wonder wasteth from my days,” he cried, - “The burden of my blessings wearieth me! - Lo I have journeyed from an unoared sea - In the white north to where the winds caress - Warm sail-sown oceans murmuring round a key - Odorous with wine and fruit in fragrant dress---- - And yet I passion for some little happiness.” - - “Ay, now,” the lady cried, “most strangely come - Are you, Sir Knight, for I am one who longs - As never heart has longed before for some - Strange world, strange tongue tuneful with alien songs, - Strange mad old cities brooding on their wrongs, - With unfamiliar streets which smile and show - Me many a colonnade and portico - Where some unclaimed and starry hour belongs. - O you who know all that I long for--bid me go!” - - No strange thing seemed her prayer unto the knight - Who knew her father’s little court by name, - And pitied her that all her beauty bright - Must fail and fade in such confined fame. - Swiftly he knelt to her and with no shame - She gave her hand the while he led her where - Within the close the moon took silvery aim - And lured a sickle bed of bloom to bear - In bloom’s sweet stead a birth of stars pearly as air. - - The lady stooped and laid her little hand - Upon a dreaming lily whose faint cream - And gold, stirred at the fingers’ soft demand, - Dreamed that the white touch was their sweetest dream. - The lady rose and every opiate beam - Made lucent pillage from her unbound hair - And moths brushed lightly through the saffron stream - In quest of stars. The lady was so fair - That the dusk swooned with passion and the light with prayer. - - “Nay, now, my child,” the knight said courteously, - “Would that your joy lay in your castle home, - In phantom folk who pace your broidery, - In haunted parchment of a pictured tome. - But if you are of those whose hearts must roam - Afar afield to meet the hushed advance - Of spheres and win from the blown spray and foam - What weaker some leave to impotent chance - Then, by my blade, that blade shall bring deliverance!” - - A little door, covert in creeping green, - Gave from the court upon the room where lay - The aged doting nurse who wept, I ween, - At all the Lady Margot strove to say. - But when it had proved vain to weep or pray, - She rose and bade her trembling fingers light - Her taper and thereby she led the way - Through secret gates till, soberly bedight, - The three set forth together in the faery night. - - O many a league for many a day they went, - And some magician kind they were aware - Delivered captive treasuries and spent - His lavish store of beauty everywhere: - Slim brazen towers that taught the sun to share - Its shining he revealed; and odorous gloom - Packing with odours the receiving air; - Flowered silken sails that set the sea abloom; - Isles spread with fabrics from the moon’s high loom. - - Sometimes the lady knelt in a fleet prow - That flung the gaudy bubbles from the blue, - And joyed to hear the lean blade of the bow - Plunging the thundering sundered breakers through; - Keen swept the foam-born breaths of salt, to do - Sweet violence to her pale cheek; and all - The spirit of her fancy peopled new - The perilous sea’s impermanent citadel - That kindled into spray with the ship’s rise and fall. - - Sometimes she stepped within a pillared way - Dim grey with shade and honey-bright with sun - Where all the costly stuffs for barter lay, - And she might hear how many a drowsing one, - Stretched on a pea-cock patterned skin, would run - Soft syllable along soft syllable - Praising the violet and vermilion - Of gems and cloths, right eager-tongued to tell - News musical with names to one who loved them well. - - Meanwhile the stranger knight was by her side - Burning to serve and welcoming command; - And never wish of hers might be denied - For his swift sword was like a dexterous wand. - And by her side in all that alien land - The old nurse journeyed plaintive and perplexed, - Condemning what she did not understand - And with all other understanding vexed; - Palsied and muttering charms for what should tide them next. - - Then it befell that as they fared the knight - Forgot his weariness and many a morn - He faced with joy the lottery of light - And walked no more apart in mood forlorn. - And now, her tremulous shyness half outworn, - The Lady Margot oft passed through a town - And saw therein but trinkets to adorn - Her little bodice and her silken gown; - And when he spoke she looked up swiftly and looked down. - - O sweet it was to see the two dream on. - She wistful of the runes that he could teach - Of men and cities dreamed that in such wan - Delights lay life; and he for her sweet speech - With all its faery fancies would beseech - And dreamed that in such fancies lay delight! - And all the time the heart of each for each - Was calling with the ancient urge of night - For night what time the lotus of the dawn is white. - - At length they came to a melodious marge - Where with sweet perturbation the moved sea - Crept lovingly about the land in large - Embrace and from such soft nativity - The music mounted in dissolving key - And wed with wind. There in a crescent cove - Sun-lorn and still, the eyes of each leaped free - And all the world in a wild silence strove - To bare its spirit in their breathed words of love. - - “O Sweet, my Sweet,” the knight quoth reverently, - “Lo now the marvel: That I wearied sore - On such a singing earth as this to be - One whom the gods give ever one gift more! - There is no spot from shore to patient shore - That is not burdened with its waiting bliss; - O yet, dear love, how little bliss it bore - Were you not near to tremble at my kiss. - At last we know the truth: The best of life is this.” - - Slow-dipped the idle sail without the bay - Sun-smitten in the drowsy afternoon; - Unimaged in the ripples’ purple play - White reefs of clouds on airy shores were strewn. - All fairly the shadows fell and soon - When gloaming was poured soft on beach and foam - The sea gave up a silver shell--the moon. - Then tenderly she turned who longed to roam - Afar and whispered: “Love, would that our way led home!” - - Nearby upon a rainbow drift of weeds - The old nurse mumbled at her prayers and charms, - And now her shaking fingers felt her beads, - And now in incantation her old arms - Were raised to shadowy powers. O grim alarms - Beset the gaping ones when love appears! - And never lovers’ glance or kiss half warms - The world but that some dotard nods and leers - And all the charnel souls are tip-toe with their fears. - - Now silently across the glimmering sands - Slow-paced the lady and the stranger knight, - And there were clinging lips and clinging hands - And all the uses of the hour were bright; - But when they came to where the moon was white - Upon the wet weeds, there the old dame lay - Stark on the sea-moss and the labyrinth light - Received her soul that knew it not. There may - Be heaven for such as mock at love but none can say. - - Upon the sands the lady knelt and wept; - Her lover kissed away her pitying tears; - “Nay, tender soul,” he said, “we have but kept - The truce of nature with the yester-years. - Now are the old things passed away, and fears - For the new day are vain. Therefore arise. - Love vanquishes the past itself. Love hears - The siren cities chant of home. Love’s eyes - Have lit a sullen world for me to Paradise.” - - Into the silver dark the lovers went, - Over the silver sea to golden isles, - Piping their songs of heavenly wonderment - And fabling the unhaunted age with smiles. - And ever with the swift melodious miles - A sterner harmony breathed through their bliss; - “The old shall be outworn. That which reviles - The gods shall perish by their ministries. - But we will walk with truth: The best of life is this.” - - - - - PART II - - - - - I KNOW WHERE A DOVE---- - - - I know where a dove sits brooding in the dark - Nested in leaves the quiet boughs among; - And when the midnight falls I lean to mark - Her home where a star is hung. - The star, it does not know the secret dove, - The dove that firefly planet may not see. - What lovelier things the night may fold from me---- - The watching eye, the brooding heart, and love. - - - - - PROLOCUTOR - - - O for one of the stars to know me, - To say “That is she” as I say “It is there.” - O for my hills to show me - If they care. - But when I speak to them nothing hears me. - Even the bird on the near bough fears me. - The fire on my hearth does not know that it cheers me. - ... Heart that waits by the fire, do you guess - All you must voice in your tenderness? - - - - - WONDER - - - Here are the shadows veiling green with grey - And winning all the wonder from the light; - Here phantom fragrance swells and fails like sound; - The hour distills itself to dark; the day - Dreams in its grave and lo, the dream is night. - - Beloved, all the marvel of the May, - The altared dark, the petals’ solemn white, - The moments rich with farewell from the lips - Of dying moments--what are these? We lay - Our love beside them and exceed the night. - - - - - A MEETING - - - I hear a sound like piping and like sails - In silken talk with wind and like the speech - Of someone quiet in the blue of dawn - Upon a quiet beach. - - I see a light as when the last star - Flowers faintly in the ashen morning sky - And long wings appear and disappear, - Wheeling by. - - I think of moons forgotten with their tides; - I think of all the red of east and west; - I hear the secret stir of nameless dead - Conferring in my breast. - - You make me long for colour and for song - And for old words on lips I did not know. - You make me dream of all I learned to dream - How long ago. - - - - - HALF THOUGHT - - - O Day of Wind and laughter, - A goddess born are you - Whose eyes are in the morning - Blue--blue. - The slumberous noon your body is, - Your feet are the shadows’ flight. - But the immortal soul of you - Is night. - - - - - EPITAPH - - - He loved to lie where Summer lay, - His roof a cloud, a bough; - There stretched full-length to dream all day. - It is so with him now. - - - - - EPITAPH - - - How fair a bride-groom Death must be. - He took her in his arms, - Her answering kiss now Spring is here - The valley leafage warms. - - - - - ALIAS - - - Between the dawn and the first breath - Of dusk there slips away - Something that partly is like death - And partly is like day. - - - - - IN ARVIA’S ROOM - - - _For Her Cradle_ - - I cannot tell you what you ask. - But of my life to be - You who are wise and know your speech, - Tell me. - - - _For Her Mirror_ - - Look in the deep of me: - What are we going to do? - If I am I, as I am, - Who in the world are you? - - - _For a Comb of Ivory_ - - Use me and think of soul and mind and wonder yet to be. - This is the jest: Could soul touch soul if it were not for me? - - - _For Her Doll’s House_ - - Girl doll would be a silken flower and look as real flowers do; - Boy doll would be a telephone and have the world speak through. - The poet doll would like to be the doorbell with a tongue - For other little dolls like bells most sensitively rung. - The paper doll would be a queen, the Dinah doll a star, - And all--how ignominious!--are only what they are. - - - _For Her Candle-stick_ - - Taper, winnow the world of its angles and where - Were sharp things lay softness, Night-god of the air! - - - _For the Chimney-place_ - - I am the causeway to the upper places - That the fire understands. - I am the link with everything unspoken. - How well I warm your hands. - - - _For a Flower Pot_ - - Call sweetness into being. - Let it live in me. - The seed, the soil, the sun and I - Work with authority. - - - _For the Telephone_ - - I the absurdity - Proving what cannot be. - Come, when you talk with me - Does it become you well - To doubt a miracle? - - - _Along Her Book-shelf_ - - Lay one hand on us; but keep the other free to touch far - things which are not far--tenderly. - - - _Where Boughs Touch the Glass_ - - They lap on the indoor shore, - The waves of the leaf mere. - They say: We tell you as well as we can, - We wonder what you hear. - - - _For Her Window_ - - I see the stones, I see the stars, - I know not what I see. - Things always say words to themselves - And now and then to me. - But sometimes when I look between - Large stones and little stars - I almost know--but what I know - Flies through the window bars. - - - - - NON NOBIS - - - _Find me little doors of air, - Let me in and in. - I will come and go all day.... - None will miss me from my place - In the room, the porch, the lawn_; - And yet I shall have a way - To enter and find quiet. - - _Knit me in a garment. - Weave me in a spell. - I shall look the same to them. - They will see me in the street - In the shop, the car, the hall_, - And yet all the time I shall be my own, - In a place where they do not come. - - _Will you not, dare you not, - Is it never meet? - I will never let them know---- _ - _Sweet, my Spirit, pardon me! - I had forgot that stars are new - And that it is the dawn of earth._ - Doors and garments and spells I must make for myself. - Among ten thousand of us I must find silence. - - - - - HALF THOUGHT - - - I saw Fair Yellow in the west, - Fair Yellow in the air, - The sand, the corn, a bird’s breast, - A woman’s hair. - At night - My little room burst into light---- - Fair Yellow had come there. - - Fair Yellow is a being. - For when I said her name - I found a way of seeing - Her as she came. - O how - Do our dull senses fail us now - And leave us in some elemental shame! - - There is so much to see and say - If we could find the way.... - - - - - UMBRA - - - The birds of the air are about me - For I am the conjuring one; - How they dip and hover and circle - Through hyaline regions of sun. - - One has a wing like a petal, - One wears a feather of flame, - Silk and snow is the breast of another - With a word like a flute for a name. - - How they sing ... in the morning, - Tilting soft the light beat of their flight; - How their passionate chorales give cadence - Down the ample arcade of the night. - - Yes, the songs of the air are about me - Sweet ... clear ... but they sing - Of the light of another morning - In the deep of another Spring. - - - - - WRAITHS - - - Who hears the answer when I cry? - O quiet hours and empty blue---- - You? - But the echoful air beats back no sigh. - - Who is glad of the love that I give the green? - O haunted hollow in tide of leaves, - Who weaves - Delight of mine on the flowery screen? - - Who harbours that little straying ghost - Of our thought for each other before we knew - Love true? - Warm, warm in my heart and never lost. - - - - - HALF THOUGHT - - - Believe not Sorrow, her who brings - Confession of the folded wings, - But seek you, burning, some frail birth - That sings. - It is her spirit beating through. - Handful of earth, - It may be breath to you! - - - - - WIND SONG - - - Horn of the morning! - And the little night pipings fail. - The day is launched like a hollow ship - With the sun for a sail. - The way is wide and blue and lone - With all the miles inviolate, - Save for the swinging stars they’ve sown - And a thistle of cloud remote and blown. - O I passion for something nearer than these! - How shall I know that this live thing is I - With only the morning for proof and the sky? - I long for a music more dear to its keys, - For a touch that shall teach me the new sureties, - Give me some griefs and some loyalties - And a child’s mouth on my own.... - - Lullaby, - Babe of the world, swing high, - Swing low. - I am a mother you never may know, - But oh, - And oh, how long the wind will know you, - With lullaby for the dead night through. - Babe of the earth, as I blow.... - Swing high, - To touch at the sky, - And at last lie low. - Lullaby.... - - - - - HALF THOUGHT - - - When all the leaves of Spring turn gold - And the wind has no song, - To whom then does the changeling green - Belong? - And who on what far waveless shore - Harps as Spring wind shall harp no more - In Winter’s beat and roll? - O You, who such forgotten beauties hold, - Find some faint loveliness unseen - And save it in a soul. - - - - - TROTH - - - To-day an odour lay upon the air - And did not fall from any mortal flower. - Deep they won their way within the hour - Who laid that odour there. - - A perfume as of all that cannot give - A perfume--ivory and ore, - Colour and cloud and pearl and marl; and store - Of the wild aroma of cave and hive. - - It was an inner perfume filtering - From other level than the great Midgard; - From a far and sphery home full-friendlier starred - Where marvels lift light wing. - - By fragrance, fire and music do we prove - The tender contact of a lovelier day, - And these fair guarantors gently outray - From their far home--these three and also love. - - - - - BELOVED, IT IS DAYBREAK ON THE HILLS - - - Beloved, it is daybreak on the hills. - Dark glimmers and goes out in cloudy light. - Faint on the marge of night the watchet dawn - Lifts like a lily from a quiet water. - And that within me which is consonant - Is at its door to meet God’s infinite. - - O Love, what banner shall we lift? And what - Timbrel and incense bear? How shall we greet - God’s day, his hills, his fire, and join their beauty? - Voices reply that are no voice but breath: - “Like beauty be thou nothing save his vesture.” - - - - - CREDO - - - O you not only worshipful but dear - Now have I learned not merely majesty - But gentleness and friendlihood to be - Your way of drawing near. - - And late, upon a blue and yellow day, - Wandering alone along a hill of Spring - I caught another tender summoning, - As if you were the comrad of my play. - - How strange that I have looked so lone and far - When it is you, Great Love, who lonely are. - How I have sought you in your cosmic leisure - When you are eager in my childish pleasure. - - Why there is no dim doctrine to believe! - Only to feel this touching at my sleeve. - - - - - WHO IS THIS THAT IS SO NEAR? - - - Who is this that is so near? - Not a face and not a voice. - But a sense of someone here, - Or of something not ourselves. - - At no altar, from no ark---- - Is it He? O wonderful - In the day and in the dark - To behold Him by no eyes. - - Is it They? Ask us not who. - As trees know when creatures pass, - We may know when Those look through - From another kind of day. - - He and They within our sense. - As we hope of bird or root: - “Lo, it has intelligence!” - Hidden ones may hope of us. - - - - - INMOST ONE - - - Brilliant and lone she sat - Upon eternal height - And veiled her face about. - She was in fear of sin, - She was in fear of deadly night, - I saw her eyes peer out. - - I saw her eyes peer out - And knew she was divine, - But oh, her stedfast, dreadful gaze - And her importunate doubt. - She did not make me word or sign - Or turn away her face. - - She did not make word or sign, - But as she watched me err - Her eyes grew cold like the dark star - And her body ceased to shine. - I could not breathe for the breath of her - Was frost of Winter and fire of war. - - Her body ceased to shine. - I dare not let her die. - I opened my heart to the sun - And I breathed her breath for mine. - Behold, that Inmost One was I, - And I was the inmost one. - - I opened my heart to the sun. - O colour and line, and birth - Of wonder and word and light! - Through love and her I have won - The earth within the earth - And the sight that is more than sight. - - O colour and line and birth, - Birth of an order new, - Of a life that is more than my own ... - Birth that is your birth ... - Birth in me of you - O God, brilliant and lone! - - - - - STONE CELL - - - Let me not see thee, Lord God of my essential life, where thou art not. - Let me not look upon colour and pray to thee believing thee to be colour. - Let me not go in silence or in dream and dream thee to be that silence. - With the failing of the light let me not thrill at the intricate - touch of that spirit - Who films light to shadow, and kneel believing ecstasy to be prayer. - From my dreams, from the siren singing and the imperious call, - From the blinding joy and the august mystery of simple beauty - Wilt not thou, compassionate, O deliver me, faint for beauty. - - God! If I were praying to be delivered from thee ... - - - - - LIGHT - - - We do not touch the texture of the light. - But one may see with a secret eye - The things that are. - Then we divine that we need not die - To win our heritage of sight. - As well this earth as any other star. - - Waking from dream there trails an alien air, - A residue of other suns than these; - We know that we have walked an inner way, - Have met familiars there - And kept our step in exquisite concord - The while we spoke some unremembered word. - And over all there lay - Light whose vibrations ran to other keys - Than those we woke upon. Light whose long play - Was dappled colour delicately kissed. - Strange fires rayed from strange regions of the Lord. - Light from the sun behind the sun fell where - We went to keep our tryst. - - In sleep and in the solitary dusk there come - Fine lines of light upon the lowered lids, - A flush that lets us in the heart of night - And hints dear wonders to be there at home; - As if the universal fabric bids - Its human pattern know that all is light. - In snow - Have we not seen the whiteness smitten through - With sudden rays of glory, vague with veils, - Of some beloved hue that pales - To earthly rose and violet and blue? - Oh you - Who pulse within that light--we know, we know! - - Soon - From without transition night - We would come into this, our own. - Then the dim tune - The which we almost hear, - The low-keyed colour and the word - We have not heard, - All these we shall be shown, - And infinitely near - To God, breathe for our breath his light. - - - - - HALF THOUGHT - - - I close my eyes and on the night - A face looks in at me. - It speaks a word like burning light, - I answer joyfully. - It dims away. The word is sped. - I know not what we two have said. - - The old dark sparkles like a star. - And when shall we be touched with sight - To find the things that are? - - - - - CONTOURS - - - I am glad of the straight lines of the rain; - Of the free blowing curves of the grain; - Of the perilous swirling and curling of fire; - The sharp upthrust of a spire; - Of the ripples on the river - Where the patterns curl and quiver - And sun thrills; - Of the innumerable undulations of the hills. - But the true line is drawn from my spirit to some - infinite outward place ... - That line I cannot trace. - - - - - PART III - - - - - NEWS NOTES OF PORTAGE, WISCONSIN - - - I - - THE KILBOURN ROAD - - In June the road to Kilbourn is a long green hall, - A corridor of leafage pillared white - By birches and with wild-rose patterns on the wall, - And all melodious with the fluid fall - Or lift of red-winged blackbirds fluting mating cries. - The very air - Is visible, not by the light, - Not by the shades that drift - And dip, but by an essence rhythmic with the flood - That flows - Not in the sap, not in the blood, - But otherwhere. - And of that essence grows - All men see in the air of Paradise. - He lay upon a little upland slope - Deep, deep with grass. - And when I saw his head above the green - Where I must pass, - The battered hat, the squinting eyes - Blinking the westering sun, I felt a sting of fear---- - Alas, that in June’s delicate demesne - A watching human face can teach one fear. - So then I spoke to him, gave him good day, - And seeing his gun said what I always say - Meeting a huntsman: “Friend, I hope - You have killed nothing here.” - He stared and grinned. And with his grin - I felt his trustiness. So when - He scrambled down the bank and followed me, - I waited for him as my kind and kin. - - He was a thing of seventeen. And men - Compounded in his blood had set him here - Wizened and hump-backed. But his little face - Held something of the one he was to be - In some eternity. - He talked as freely as a child. He’d shot, he said, - At a young wood-chuck. Now his gun was broke, - And it’d cost a dollar and a half - To mend it. Then I spoke - About a little kerchief made of lace - Lost on the road that day. He turned his head. - “Did it have money in it, Lady?”--with quick grace - Caught from some knightlier place. - And when I asked him what he read - He tried to rise to all my speech awoke. - “A person give me a book a while ago. - Oh, I donno - The name--the cover’s off. I got, I guess, - Two pages done. Time the stock’s fed - I get so sleepy I jump into bed.” - --And with this, for defence, a rueful laugh. - I named the town not two miles distant. No, - He hardly ever went there. Motion picture show? - His eyes lit. Several times he’d been. - War pictures was the best. He liked to kill? - He hung his head. “No, but I never will - Shoot pups or kittens when they want me to. - War’s different.” School? He’d seen - Four years of that--well, four years, more or less. - Dad needed him--dad had so much to do. - - So then I faced him and his need to live. - I put it plain: “But you? - What do you want to do?” - His answer lay within him, ready made. - He met my eyes with all he had to give. - “I’d like,” he said, “to learn the artist trade.” - - Questioned, he told me bit by little bit. - He’d had a horse that died--he’d painted her. - He’d painted Tige, the dog. The pigeon house. - The fence that crossed the slough. The willow tree. - Would he let me see? - Oh, well--they wasn’t much. He couldn’t stir---- - The paint right, and he didn’t have enough. - All that he’d done was rough. - I tried to spell his dream,--to see if his face lit - At flame of it. - He only said: “Mebbe I couldn’t learn.” - And his eyes did not burn. - (“Perhaps,” I thought, “there’s nothing here at all.”) - “Dad’s going to have me paint the house,” he said. - I questioned where he led. - “Yellow and brown,” he answered. And my fancy’s fall - He must have fathomed in my face for a slow red - Mounted and swept his cheek. His eyes sought mine, - His look was piteous with a kind of light. - “I don’t like that. They picked it out,” he said. “I wanted white.” - And all his tone was shame. - The craftsman wounded in his craftsman’s right - In ways he could not name. - - He took the cross-road. Where I saw him go - Wild fever-few made narrow paths of snow - Through the flat fields of dying afternoon. - Bravely in tune - With every little part as with some whole - A red wing answered to an oriole - And met a cat bird’s call. - The sun! The sun! The road to Kilbourn like a long green hall! - The very air a spirit like our own - So nearly shown - That one could almost see. - The veil so thin that presence was outrayed. - - But all the great blue day came facing me, - And crying from the vault and from the sod: - “Oh God, oh God. - ‘_I’d like_,’ he said, ‘_to learn the artist trade!_’” - - - II - - VIOLIN - - One night on some light errand I sat beside - The cooking-stove in Johann’s sitting-room. - Within there was the cheer of lamp and fire, - The stove-draught yawning red and wide, - The table with its rosy cotton spread, - A blue chair-cover from a home-land loom, - A baby’s bed. - And in that odour of cleanliness and food - Johann, the labourer worthy of his hire - For seven days a week, twelve hours a day - At some vague toil “down in the yard.” - “Hard? - What o’ that? Look at the luck I’ve got to keep the place - And draw my pay.” - He had been strong - And still his body kept its ruggedness. - Yet he was old and stiffened and he moved - As one who is wrapped round in something thick. - But O, his face, - His face was like the faces that look out - From bark and hole of trees all marred and grooved, - All laid about - With old varieties of silence and of wrong. - Such faces are locked long - In men, in stones, in wood, in earth, - Awaiting birth. - And Johann’s face was less - Expectant than the happy dead awaiting to become the quick. - - His wife said much about how hard she tried. - She chattered high and shrill - About the burden and the eating ill. - His mother, little, thin, half-blind and cross, - With scarlet flannel round her throat, - Put in her note, - Muttered about the cold, the draught, her side---- - Small ineffectual chants of little loss, - With never a word - Of the great gossip which she had not heard: - That life had passed her by. - The little room beset me like the din - And prick of scourges. All - At once I looked upon the spattered wall - And saw a violin. - - _A hall - Vast, bright and breathing. - In the upper air - A chord, a flower of tone, a quiet wreathing - Along the lift and fall - Of some clear current in the blood - Now delicately understood, - Till all the hearing ones below - Are where - The voices call. - O now they know - What music is. It is that which they are - Themselves. Infinite bells, - Of silence in a little sheath. Deep wells - Of being in a little cup. Star upon star - Veiled save one reaching ray. - And see! The people turn - And for a breath they look - Out into one another’s eyes - And shine and burn - Wise, wise, - With ultimate knowledge of the good - That seeks one whole. - And how - Eternity begins - And ever is beginning now - A thousand hearts learn from the violins._ - - “My back ain’t right. My head ain’t right. I’m almost dead. - Fill the hot water bag. I’m goin’ to bed....” - “Ten pairs of socks I’ve darned to-night. I try - To do the best I can....” - I put the women by. - “Johann,” I said, “you play?” He shook his head. - “I lost it, loggin’----” he held up a stump of thumb. - “I took six lessons once,” he said. - I sat there, dumb. - - From out the inner place of music there had come - Long long ago, - Some viewless one to tell him how to know - What waits upon the page - To beat the rhythm of the world. He heard; and tried - To stumble toward the door graciously wide - For other feet than his. - “I took six lessons once,” he said with pride. - This - Was all we gave him of his heritage. - - - III - - NORTH STAR - - His boy had stolen some money from a booth - At the County Fair. I found the father in his kitchen. - For years he had driven a dray and the heavy lifting - Had worn him down. So through his evenings - He slept by the kitchen stove as I found him. - The mother was crying and ironing. - I thought about the mother, - For she brought me a photograph - Taken at a street fair on her wedding day. - She was so trim and white and he so neat and alert - In the picture with their friends about them---- - I saw that she wanted me to know their dignity from the first. - But afterward I thought more about the father. - For as he came with me to the door I could not forbear - To say how bright and near the stars seemed. - Then he leaned and peered from beneath his low roof, - And he said: - “_There used to be a star called the Nord Star._” - - - - - PROSE NOTES - - - I - - THE BUREAU - - In anger, in irritation, in argument, what happens to you and me? - Something fine weaving us round is torn open. - Something fine permeating us is drawn from the veins. - Presences waiting to understand us retreat to a farther ante-room of us. - Little cells are incommunicably sealed. - - All this happened to me and some strange progress was halted - until something in me could be repaired. - The whole race halted with me. - The light of the remotest star, do you imagine that it did not know? - Innumerable influences ceased to pour upon us all. - And it was because someone left the attic window open and it - had rained on an old bureau. - - - II - - MINUET - - I went from Fifth avenue into the Plaza on a sunny Winter morning. - There on a little stage it was Spring. A shepherdess walked. - Beside a stream girls were tying garlands. A harp was touched. - The shepherdess and her lovers danced a minuet on the - bright emerald of that shining field. - - Down by Brooklyn Bridge---- - Now this sharp contrast will shock you, but we must not - interrupt the minuet---- - I know a place down by Brooklyn Bridge where a woman - (Young, once pretty, still with tender eyes) - Carries water up five flights of stairs to do washing. - - I watched the minuet and I thought about that woman. - Did God create two worlds? - Or has man made a world? And can man see that his world is good? - - - III - - THE DINING ROOM - - I laid the blue dishes on the table. - The dining room was still and sunny. - Zinnias were in a brown basket, - The grape-fruit plant was glossy in a window. - Skilful fingers had wrought the border of the curtain. - My grand-mother’s blue pitcher was on the sideboard. - There were chestnut leaves in the brown rug. - Barometer and thermometer recorded miracle on the rose wall. - Dark wood paneled and beamed us in together. - - As I worked these exquisite patient familiar things let me within. - They let me look with their eyes, feel with their beating - pulses of hurrying molecules. - I perceived how locomotion and consciousness and - self-consciousness have advanced us. - By what means shall we go forward now? - Does anyone wonder at my slow patience as I wonder at the - slow patience of these exquisite and familiar things? - - - IV - - PARADISE AND PURGATORY - - Do you ever go into your room and find familiar things unfamiliar. - Muslin curtains thinned by moonlight, - Open window, candle, mirror, expectant chairs, - Long smooth waiting bed--do they not bear another aspect - As if you had divined them doing their duty, - As if to be inanimate clearly involved a process, - As if they were surprised at their creeping task of going - back to earth, rising in plants, quickening into beings. - That is the great work of those patient things. - That is why they look so intent. - So with all your preoccupation in dressing for to-day - Your object is the same as that of these humble ones. - Only you have reached a paradise where you can hasten your way. - But these others are yet in purgatory. - - - V - - AT LEAST ... - - On that day of wild joyous wind - I filled my being with warm hurrying air. - The pouring sun was in my heart like water in a well. - I ran in the pulsing tonic currents. - And all the time, melodious in my mind, - There beat and strove the measure of a tune. - Then for a breath I understood: Glory without and flame within, - They passioned to belong to each other. - I--I was the interruption. - - From that time I gave my body to be a harp: - Wind of the world without, breath of the soul within, - I will try to let you interflow. - August Presences, at least, at least may I not hinder you. - - - VI - - ROSES - - Only once have I been sure that a rose answered me. - Always the reticence of roses was the aloofness of the peak - A rose would never admit me, speak to me, - Listen to me, reply to me, do other than suffer me. - But one day after our barbarous fashion I lifted a rose to my face. - Suddenly, thrillingly, the rose replied. It, too, touched at me. - We had something to exchange. - What am I to do that this shall be true of every flower, - Every animal, every stone, every manufactured article, - Every created object--yes, even every person of the world? - - - VII - - SPRING EVENING - - I heard her at the telephone. - “Do come early,” she was saying, “while the light lasts. - The dog-wood is in blossom, the mountains are wonderful. - It is,” she said, “too heavenly. Do come, while the light lasts....” - Outside on the veranda I could see the light, - I could see the dog-wood in bloom and a mountain - _And more!_ - What else there was I am trying to tell: - Not colour for I am no artist. Not glamour for I am not in love; - Not any more magic than I am accustomed to; - Not presence I think--though perhaps after all it was presence. - But something else was there, exquisite, insistent. - When she came back I looked up to see if it met her. - But she only said: “It is too heavenly. - I hope they will come while the light lasts.” - I knew that she did not see what I saw. - But what did I see.... - - - VIII - - SECOND SIGHT - - Can the world have been created for you and me to do all - that fills our days: - Care of a house, lawn, shop, billion dollar business? - These are not enough for us. - Can the world have been created for the nations to do - all that fills their days: - Trading, peacefully penetrating, warring, - Or when the mood changes, motoring down one another’s roads, - decorating one another, bowing at one another’s courts? - These are not enough for the nations. - - What is the world for? - - Once in an apple orchard at mid-day - I had a moment of second sight as I watched a child at play. - She shone with light like a holy child. She was pure. - She was growing. She was nothing, nothing but love. - She was all that we might be, we and the nations. - She was all that we shall be. - Come, let us face it! - - - IX - - DOES SOMETHING WAIT? - - Go and wait somewhere. Take no book, no paper, no - solitaire or needle task. - Nay but forbid yourself also that you reckon the profit or plan a feast - Or discern dust on the lamp; - That you consider to whom to sell or what to wear. - Go and wait somewhere, with forgotten muscles. - - Now does something wait with you, glad and welcoming - that you are free to turn to it? - Then you have bread that you know not of and it is brought to you. - Or do you merely sit with an hundred fibres in you pressing to be gone? - Then you are in danger of starvation. - By this means we may almost know what we are. - - - X - - DOORS - - At the edge of consciousness is a little door. - What goes by? - Now a wing of brightness, of colour, of something out - there that I love more than I am accustomed to loving. - Now fares by a delicate shadow, patterned, fleet, that - I long to know more than I am accustomed to knowing. - There must be so much more to love and to know than the - little loves and the little knowledge. - - Then someone knocks at my door. - Thou! - The wing of brightness, the delicate shadow were but the sign. - What am I to do? - I will find my way to the edge of my consciousness, - I will gain the door, I will have my freedom, - I will love and know and be all being. - Thou art the liberator. Why it is true.... - “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” - - - XI - - LEVITATION - - Three times that day came the sense of levitation. - As if court-house walk, walnut shadow, a length of sunny - lawn let her go by with no tribute of her touch. - It seemed as if the wonderful would happen. - She waited, prepared for the vision. - The day flowered, ripened, mellowed, fell upon night. - No presence opened or signaled. - Then she went to embosom that which the hours had left her. - She faced her day, and her day gathered itself as a living - thing with a voice and deep eyes. - It said, I was wonderful. - - Yet the only thing to happen that day had been this: - Old Edgerton Bascom came to the porch, selling buttons. - She bought from him, picked her dahlias for his wife. - He went away, comforted, restored to self-respect by her purchase. - Perhaps when levitation comes it will be a matter of this kind - Rather than of calculation and reckoning. - - - XII - - ENCHANTMENT - - In this house I perform all as seriously as may be required. - I accept my desk, my little tools, lamp, paper. - I write in the one language which I have been taught and - about the few things with which I am familiar. - I eat the little round of food which it is said will nourish my body. - About my books I am docile and I learn from them. - I look no farther than my window permits. - When I wish to emerge I go obediently to the door as if - there were conceivable no other way of exit. - At night I fall into sleep as if that were eternal purpose. - - I suffer from absence, I submit to distance, - I am subject to innumerable influences, - I am open to them all with a sober face. - - But all the time I have knowledge that I am something other; - That all these things shall ultimately have no more power over me. - That I consent to them because of some delicate exigency - in this moment of eternity. - Even now I am often free of them. - There was the day when I moved among the hills and lost - every sense of difference from them. - With the crowning cloud and the far filament of the river - I found myself in common. - The air was vocal with all that is identical and in that - hour it offered to me my identity. - I became everything. I had no question to ask for it was - I, too, who was answering. - The hour dissolved. The ultimate star was my neighbour. - - ... Suddenly I remembered myself down in the valley moving - about in a house. - And I perceived that for years I have been enchanted. - I am listening to be set free. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret Way, by Zona Gale - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET WAY *** - -***** This file should be named 60146-0.txt or 60146-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/4/60146/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Secret Way - -Author: Zona Gale - -Release Date: August 21, 2019 [EBook #60146] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET WAY *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="339" height="500" alt="[Image -of the book's cover unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p class="cb">THE SECRET WAY</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="border:double 5px black;"> -<tr><td class="c" -style="border-bottom:2px solid black;"><i>By</i><br /> -ZONA GALE</td></tr> - -<tr><td> -<span class="smcap">Birth</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Christmas</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Mothers to Men</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Heart’s Kindred</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Friendship Village</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Neighborhood Tales</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Peace in Friendship Village</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">When I Was a Little Girl</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Friendship Village Love Stories</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">The Loves of Pelleas and Ettarre</span><br /> -</td></tr></table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_i" id="page_i">{i}</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/i_frontispiece_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_frontispiece_sml.jpg" width="327" height="500" alt="[Image unavailable: -portrait of the author.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p class="r">Copyrighted by E. O. Hoppé</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</a></span></p> - -<h1><span class="red">THE SECRET WAY</span></h1> - -<p class="cb">BY<br /> -ZONA GALE<br /><br /><br /> -<br /> -<span class="eng">New York</span><br /> -THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> -1921<br /> -<br /><small> -<i>All rights reserved</i><br /></small> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span> -<br /><br /><br /><small> - -PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1921,<br /> -<span class="smcap">By</span> THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.<br /> -<br /> -Set up and printed. Published September, 1921.<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Press of<br /> -J. J. Little & Ives Company<br /> -New York, U. S. A.<br /></small> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“A great life, an entire civilization lies just outside the pale of -common thought.... Such life is different from any yet imagined.... -I see as clearly as the noonday that this is not all. I see other -and higher conditions than existence.... The very idea that there -is another Idea is something gained.”</p> - -<p class="rt">—<span class="smcap">Richard Jeffries.</span></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi">{vi}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span> </p> - -<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><th colspan="3"><a href="#PART_I">PART I<br /> -(EARLY VERSE)</a></th></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_SECRET_WAY">The Secret Way</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_4">4</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap" colspan="3"><a href="#TERZA_RIMA">Terza Rima</a>:</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">I</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#OLD_TALK">Old Talk</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_8">8</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">II</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#MAGIC">Magic</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">III</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#NIGHT_IS_HERE">Night is Here</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap" colspan="3"><a href="#BALLADES_OF_THREE_SENSES">Ballades of Three Senses:</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">I</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#BALLADE_OF_EYES_THAT_SEE">Ballade of Eyes That See</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_14">14</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">II</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#BALLADE_OF_LISTENING">Ballade of Listening</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_16">16</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">III</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#BALLADE_OF_OLD_PERFUMES">Ballade of Old Perfumes</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_18">18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#HOKKU">Hokku Thoughts</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_20">20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap" colspan="3"><a href="#SONNETS_AND_VARIATIONS">Sonnets and Variations:</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#WHEN_DID_SPRING_DIE">When Did Spring Die?</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#ONE_DAWN_SHE_WOKE_ME">One Dawn She Awoke Me</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#THERE_ARE_WITHIN_US_LIVES_WE_NEVER_LIVE">There Are Within Us Lives We Never Live</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#LAST_NIGHT_I_DREAMED_I_SAW_MY_MOTHER_YOUNG">Last Night I Dreamed I Saw My Mother Young</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#WHY_AM_I_SILENT">Why Am I Silent?</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_26">26</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#I_WANDERED_WHERE_THE_WONDER_OF_THE_SKY">I Wandered Where the Wonder of the Sky—</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_27">27</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#HERE_A_STILL_FIELD">Here a Hill Field</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#RETURN">Return</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_29">29</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#BY_MY_SIDE_ALL_DAY_ANOTHER_WENT">By My Side All Day Another Went</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap" colspan="3"><a href="#IN_J_P_Ps_METRE">In J. P. P.’s Metre:</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">I</td><td></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_31">31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">II</td><td></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">III</td><td>(<span class="smcap">To a Poet</span>)</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_33">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#EXERCISE_IN_SPENSERIANS">Exercise in Spenserians</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_35">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><th colspan="3"><a href="#PART_II">PART II</a></th></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#I_KNOW_WHERE_A_DOVE">I Know Where a Dove</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_51">51</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#PROLOCUTOR">Prolocutor</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#WONDER">Wonder</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#A_MEETING">A Meeting</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#HALF_THOUGHT1">Half Thought</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_55">55</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#EPITAPHS">Epitaphs</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#ALIAS">Alias</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#IN_ARVIAS_ROOM">In Arvia’s Room</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#HALF_THOUGHT2">Half Thought</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_64">64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#UMBRA">Umbra</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ix" id="page_ix">{ix}</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#WRAITHS">Wraiths</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#HALF_THOUGHT3">Half Thought</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#WIND_SONG">Wind Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_68">68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#HALF_THOUGHT4">Half Thought</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#TROTH">Troth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_71">71</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#BELOVED_IT_IS_DAYBREAK_ON_THE_HILLS">Beloved, It Is Daybreak on the Hills</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_72">72</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#CREDO">Credo</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_73">73</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#WHO_IS_THIS_THAT_IS_SO_NEAR">Who Is This That Is So Near?</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_74">74</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#INMOST_ONE">Inmost One</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#STONE_CELL">Stone Cell</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_77">77</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#LIGHT">Light</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#HALF_THOUGHT5">Half Thought</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#CONTOURS">Contours</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_82">82</a></td></tr> - -<tr><th colspan="3"><a href="#PART_III">PART III</a></th></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap" colspan="3"><a href="#NEWS_NOTES_OF_PORTAGE_WISCONSIN">News Notes of Portage, Wisconsin:</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">I</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_KILBOURN_ROAD">Kilbourn Road</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_85">85</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">II</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#VIOLIN">Violin</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_91">91</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt">III</td><td class="smcap"><a href="#NORTH_STAR">North Star</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_96">96</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap" colspan="3"><a href="#PROSE_NOTES">Prose Notes:</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_BUREAU">The Bureau</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_98">98</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#MINUET">Minuet</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_99">99</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_x" id="page_x">{x}</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_DINING_ROOM">The Dining Room</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_101">101</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#PARADISE_AND_PURGATORY">Paradise and Purgatory</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_103">103</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#AT_LEAST">At Least</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#ROSES">Roses</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#SPRING_EVENING">Spring Evening</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_109">109</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#SECOND_SIGHT">Second Sight</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_109">111</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#DOES_SOMETHING_WAIT">Does Something Wait?</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_113">113</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#DOORS">Doors</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_114">114</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#LEVITATION">Levitation</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_116">116</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="smcap"><a href="#ENCHANTMENT">Enchantment</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I</h2> - -<h3><a name="EARLY_VERSE" id="EARLY_VERSE"></a>EARLY VERSE</h3> - -<h3><a name="THE_SECRET_WAY" id="THE_SECRET_WAY"></a>THE SECRET WAY</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Stark on the window’s early grey<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lined out in squares by casement bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She saw her lily lift to take<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sinking stars.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Within the room’s delaying dark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Intimate things lay dim and still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all their day-time friendliness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Gone false and chill.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her hand upon the coverlet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her face low in the linen’s cleft,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They were as wan as water-flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By light bereft.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And never was bloom brought to her couch<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But shed the odour of a sigh<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because she was as white as they,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And they must die.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O Pale, lit deep within the dark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of your young eyes, a stifled light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaps thin and keen as melody<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And leavens night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It is a light that did not burn<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When you were gay at mart and fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Pale, what is that starry fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fed unaware?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then softly she: “I may not tell<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What other eyes behold in mine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I have melted night and day<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In some wild wine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I may not read the graven cup<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Exhaustless as a brimming bell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Distilling silver; but I drank<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And all is well.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“One morn like this, bitter still,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I waited for the early stir<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of those who slept the while I watched<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What muffled wonders were.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I saw my lily on the sill;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I saw my mirror on the wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Take light that was not; and I saw<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My spectral taper tall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Why I had known these quiet things<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Since I could speak. Yet suddenly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They all touched hands and in one breath<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They spoke to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I may not tell you what they said.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The strange part is that I must lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never tell you what we say——<br /></span> -<span class="i2">These things and I.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I only know that common things<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bear sudden little spirits set<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Free by the rose of dawn and by<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Night’s violet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I only know that when I hear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Clear tone, the haunted echoes bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Legions of little winged feet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On printless air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And when warm colour weds my look<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A word is uttered tremblingly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With meaning fall—but I know not<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What it may be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I only know that now I find<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Abiding beauty everywhere;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or if it bide not, that it fades<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is still more fair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I long to question those I love<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And yet I know not what to say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am alone as one upon<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some secret way.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“My words are barren of my bliss;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The strange part is that I must lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never tell you what we say—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">These things and I.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“So will it be when I am not.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A little more perhaps to tell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet then as now I may not say<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What I know well.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She died when all the east was red.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And we are they who know her fate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because we love the way of life<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That she had found too late.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="TERZA_RIMA" id="TERZA_RIMA"></a>TERZA RIMA</h3> - -<h4>I: <span class="smcap"><a name="OLD_TALK" id="OLD_TALK"></a>Old Talk</span></h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Old Eyelot sees what never is.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She says: “Pale lights move on the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep in the air are treasuries.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She says: “I never go to mill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wood-way but something walks with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So go wood-way I always will.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wood-walking, I go mad to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What will die out just as I turn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To catch it by the crooked tree.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I pass the bush that I saw burning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With wild black flame at full of moon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That was a sight to set one learning<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What things one merely doubts at noon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A-well, I know not what I learned.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God send that you may learn it soon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Windows for walls, thoughts that have turned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back into folk, gateways of horn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wild hearts that men have burned,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">These things I see. And ay, one morn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw the little people bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Away my little child new-born.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They gave her food yielded in air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Honey and rose-down.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I looked and she was very fair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So when the people of the town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Who did not know) believed her dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wrapped her in a cloudy gown<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I did not mourn. I only said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“She is the daughter of the Day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with the Night she has been wed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I am the mother of that one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Born for two worlds. And I am she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who sees more things than moon and sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And little stars will ever see.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">* * *<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Old Eyelot sees what never is.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She says: “Green lights move on the leas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep in the air are treasuries.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wonder what old Eyelot sees?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>II: <span class="smcap"><a name="MAGIC" id="MAGIC"></a>Magic</span></h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An ancient wildwood showed its heart to me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(O Little Wind that brought me what it said!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I went within its great nave reverently.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There dwelt the silence ever lightly wed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With winged sound. There the persuading green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Took ancient citadels with soundless tread.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Was not the opening blue of buds between<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soft solitary leaves a lyric set<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To music of the things that lift and lean?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My hands were mother-tender of the net<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of silk they found. My feet were light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To loose no dew from the least violet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The fragile fabric of dissolved night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seemed in the air. A million little minds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kept concert in the very realm of sight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O—and suddenly as sunlight finds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White towers I heard the ancient wood unfold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its ancient secret piped by little winds.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Behold the beauty in me. O behold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The beauty that makes utter peace, in me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beauty that is immeasurably old.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The whole world like a bell heard echoingly.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Words wonderful! I found a fairy bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And saw that which the wildwood let me see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(O Little Wind that brought me what it said!)<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>III: <span class="smcap"><a name="NIGHT_IS_HERE" id="NIGHT_IS_HERE"></a>Night Is Here</span></h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Night is here and star-rise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And demeanour of the dark.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Visioned by my closed eyes<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now I lie within an arc.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lyric loom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the silence is a-hark<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For a poppy bud to bloom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In some flowery harmony<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Woven through this quiet room.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Prick of light and shadow take me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fire and stars and voices keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fairy clamour will not wake me ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">... Sleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But that warm grave of sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nothing save myself immures.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Singing light and dreaming deep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now my spirit walks with yours.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="BALLADES_OF_THREE_SENSES" id="BALLADES_OF_THREE_SENSES"></a>BALLADES OF THREE SENSES</h3> - -<h4>I<br /><br /> - -<a name="BALLADE_OF_EYES_THAT_SEE" id="BALLADE_OF_EYES_THAT_SEE"></a>BALLADE OF EYES THAT SEE</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leaves loosened when there blow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No winds; long fields whose green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dim beneath the darling bow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the May-moon is seen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Robins at dawn; the keen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sour odour of vines—these show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Frail meanings caught between<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bourne of yes and no.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet there is tender art<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To fathom what they mean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep in the heart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I go among them. Now I lean<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where willows fret the flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of water that has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For miles to glean.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the osiers—O<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An ouphe, an elfin queen.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I did not see her—lo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The osiers did not part,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet she was there I ween,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep in the heart.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>Envoy</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Spells, lay upon the screen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The things that move me so.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ask the better part:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see with eyes serene<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What things these others know——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep in the heart.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>II<br /><br /> - -<a name="BALLADE_OF_LISTENING" id="BALLADE_OF_LISTENING"></a>BALLADE OF LISTENING</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On summer slopes lit white<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With old desire of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The air with pearl bedight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prepares for gold array.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun-drugged stars delay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To die; the winds take fright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And question, and betray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Frail sounds for my delight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O voice of ancient springs!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O little echo-flight!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O harp of things!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In grasses that lie bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In grasses that lie grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up on the clouded height<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down in the zone of May<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are printless feet astray.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Airy the hands that smite<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lyre in nameless lay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the great gods invite<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Echo of earth chantings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On quiet wing away.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O—harp of things!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>Envoy</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Harp, is it this that you say?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Delicate is my might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quickening the voice that sings;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I am sense grown fey.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am word of the morn and the night.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O harp of things!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>III<br /><br /> - -<a name="BALLADE_OF_OLD_PERFUMES" id="BALLADE_OF_OLD_PERFUMES"></a>BALLADE OF OLD PERFUMES</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now out of dream old springs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flow soft with many red<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And golden fluttering things.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweetly from underhead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the wan air is fed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With faint rememberings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of hours long buried.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rose-rumours steal and stir;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They come on wind-like wings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old odours that were<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nard and mint and myrrh.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I think that as there clings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Colour to blossoms shed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So love and all that sings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So hearts that beat and bled<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were with old fragrance wed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now when the garden flings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On many a secret thread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweets to the wanderer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some buried witch-bell rings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old odours that were<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nard and mint and myrrh.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>Envoy</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Spring, let me lay my head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the wild season sings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some dead girl’s heart from her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O young heart, ages dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old odours thrill mute strings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old odours that were<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nard and mint and myrrh.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HOKKU" id="HOKKU"></a>HOKKU</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The way that shadow fell along the floor!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I too have waited for a shadow.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><span class="smcap">Hokku</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Two butterflies. Two birds. O the wide night of space.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet, hold me close.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><span class="smcap">Hokku</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yellow I see is my close friend.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She can create a sun.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><span class="smcap">Hokku</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I would have stayed the dawn down the dark sky.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But there were many dawns.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><span class="smcap">Hokku</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A child’s faint cry. But you and I have had<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A birth since birth. Only there was no cry.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><span class="smcap">Hokku</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A candle flame. My love has put it out.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It did not know its bliss. Shall I, in death?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><span class="smcap">Hokku</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Cloths, fans, stones slumberous, colour and fancy and lilt.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No hard straight place to be. O quiet sky.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><span class="smcap">Hokku</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I made a garden. Afterward it died.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It never even knew it was a garden.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="SONNETS_AND_VARIATIONS" id="SONNETS_AND_VARIATIONS"></a>SONNETS AND VARIATIONS</h3> - -<h3><a name="WHEN_DID_SPRING_DIE" id="WHEN_DID_SPRING_DIE"></a>WHEN DID SPRING DIE?</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When did Spring die? I did not see her go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the bright lane she painted. All flower-still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She moved among her emblems on the hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touching away their burden of old snow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was it on some great down where long winds flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the wild spirit of Spring went out to fill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The eyes of Summer? Did a daffodil<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift the pale urn remote where she lies low?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O not as other moments did she die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That woman-season outlined like a rose.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the banner of Autumn’s scarlet bough<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Summer fell; and Winter with a cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wed with March wind. Spring did not die like those<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But vaguely, as if Love had prompted: Now.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="ONE_DAWN_SHE_WOKE_ME" id="ONE_DAWN_SHE_WOKE_ME"></a>ONE DAWN SHE WOKE ME——</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One dawn she woke me when the darkness lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faint on the Summer fields. The air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was like a question. Green was grey<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With dew distilled in delitesence where<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Covert, the night-folk wrought. She said: “Dear one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is our holiday.” Forth we went<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Finding new kindred, new bequest of sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Inheriting again the firmament.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Long ago ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old years lie upon her grave like flowers.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The alchemy of hours<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has made me someone whom she would not know.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How strangely that frail morning lives and towers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I am other and when she lies low.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THERE_ARE_WITHIN_US_LIVES_WE_NEVER_LIVE" id="THERE_ARE_WITHIN_US_LIVES_WE_NEVER_LIVE"></a>THERE ARE WITHIN US LIVES WE NEVER LIVE</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There are within us lives we never live<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By sense or soul, for being does not know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To tell their depth or breast their flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or to taste the sweetness that they give.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now in distance, now in voices still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In pity or in harmony, in sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We lead unconscious lives, old, deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the far slope of an unknown hill.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Is it not here that life walks wreathed at last?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Many a soul meets many a soul with this:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That muted lips and wistful eyes are passed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In silence; yet a sign there is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burning in air, though but a shadow fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or some pale sunbeam steal along the wall.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="LAST_NIGHT_I_DREAMED_I_SAW_MY_MOTHER_YOUNG" id="LAST_NIGHT_I_DREAMED_I_SAW_MY_MOTHER_YOUNG"></a>LAST NIGHT I DREAMED I SAW MY MOTHER YOUNG</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Last night I dreamed I saw my mother young.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never knew her till her hair was grey;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Last night I saw the shadows lit away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pearls about her shoulders strung.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out from our haunts of home among<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She came as if she knew them not. There lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old hope in her young eyes. And gay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her speech came in some laughing tongue.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I who had watched the stolen march of days<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And would not see the theft which was their sign<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Moved happily to meet her, mute with praise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this the witchery that made her fair.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But yet the pretty hand that lay in mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was not the one I love upon my hair.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="WHY_AM_I_SILENT" id="WHY_AM_I_SILENT"></a>WHY AM I SILENT?</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why am I silent? Tell me how to speak<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all the sweet familiars of the way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Call Summer by her name; and with the Day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Walk royally companioned cheek on cheek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For that faint speech awhile withheld, that weak<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Task of the Word undone is the great Nay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The winged thunder that denies the ray.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet once when first I saw the hapless Greek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By present impulse of the god urged on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seek out the shadow of the awful grove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I felt the word. I caught it once again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a sweet flash of arrowy sun that shone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thickening on flowers. But when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You sorrowed, Love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I knew it then....<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="I_WANDERED_WHERE_THE_WONDER_OF_THE_SKY" id="I_WANDERED_WHERE_THE_WONDER_OF_THE_SKY"></a>I WANDERED WHERE THE WONDER OF THE SKY——</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wandered where the wonder of the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was wide upon me. Isle beyond isle the east<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was signing that the Summer night had ceased<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the dawn. Then came a stranger by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Immersed in the magic as was I.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We stood together at the sorcerer’s feast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saying half-words; and as the day increased<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We parted with a farewell almost shy.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Something was there. There was drawn silently<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through into life some fiery, clouded thing.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O wise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For one sweet flash of time we stood to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Death and the Inbeing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lie dreaming in each other’s eyes.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HERE_A_STILL_FIELD" id="HERE_A_STILL_FIELD"></a>HERE A STILL FIELD</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here a still field. I move within the green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It lies aloof. Look where I will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The steady glory of noon on the hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lays its divine indifference on the scene.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I seem too far. I listen and I lean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet never will the burying hours fulfill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One hope of nearness to the Far and Still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But wound me with the sweet that they might mean.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Is there no keener speech for us than this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old incommunicable urge to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The speech of silence.... Yes—here a still field!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What more—what more? For here the Comrade is,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The God who waits alone and would have sealed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our compact with glad laughter long ago.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="RETURN" id="RETURN"></a>RETURN</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How they come back ... I never see retreat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the long beach the phalanx of bright foam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But faint across the fields that fold them home<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear the rhythmic fall of speeding feet.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they who loved the garden of the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And died, come back. I never know a land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of cities but there come to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their dead to touch my hand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dead, who dare not let your eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flower from the dusk and flame into our own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet come you as hushed notes in harmonies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To ways of life that you have known:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Virgil in blowing spray round swift-prowed ships,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dante in every cry of lips for lips.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="BY_MY_SIDE_ALL_DAY_ANOTHER_WENT" id="BY_MY_SIDE_ALL_DAY_ANOTHER_WENT"></a>BY MY SIDE ALL DAY ANOTHER WENT</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By my side all day another went.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We breathed the cold spiced air of the Spring dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the dawn; together at the hark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of noon we listened; and we bent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To borrow from still grasses the warm scent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of afternoon and dusk. We stood to mark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deathless ark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unveiled before the light was spent.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Prodigal of sweetness that old day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I passed, nor might<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See how that one beside me stooped to lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something aside. Now in the night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gleaner hunts me down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bringing regret. I wear it for a crown.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="IN_J_P_Ps_METRE" id="IN_J_P_Ps_METRE"></a>IN J. P. P.’s METRE</h3> - -<h4>I</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here a vine, there a voice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then a violin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the quiet is astir<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a flute within.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here a light, there a leaf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little boughs that lean;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the people who move by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wonder what they mean.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Look,” they say, “there a star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watching in a well;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Line and green and melody——”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then they try to tell.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O why ask what they mean?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What is there to win?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have we not the light, the leaf<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the violin?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>II</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All the air is liveried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a kind of white;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is not like the darkness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is like the covenant<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a clearer sight.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now a sudden bud is born<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burning in the dew;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There the fog rose palely lifting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All as if it knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The faint flowing speech<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the friendly blue.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh the little hurrying wing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a blowing leaf;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh the shadows gathering in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Many a sheaf;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There a cloud is carved like some<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Airy coral reef.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like a new sense these venture<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the veins and lo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the blood is musical<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In its beat and flow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we wait wondering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What new thing we know.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>III<br /><br /> - -TO A POET</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Woo a little choir of words,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Teach them to sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let them thrill the air like birds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love-summoning.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thread the silence with a lute,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sound the spiral of a flute.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">... Vain, but vain. The words are mute.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Open now your own heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where a rose may be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Live your love and use your art,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Make melody,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For your joy, your joy is there,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing the secret thing you bear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">... Only silence everywhere.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">... Show the ancient pain that lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With remembered things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the dark within your eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where nothing sings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now at last there throng<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Images that waited long,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the silence flowers in song.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="EXERCISE_IN_SPENSERIANS" id="EXERCISE_IN_SPENSERIANS"></a>EXERCISE IN SPENSERIANS</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">The air is purged of gold and in its stead<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Is poured a fire of silver on the green;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And now the moon new-risen from the dead<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of dearer nights than this finds her demesne<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Lonely of stars, as they to greet their queen<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Had rushed in argent riot from the blue<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To spill themselves like flowers or waste unseen<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In stealing perfumes that elude and woo<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As now eludes now woos the wind the sweet night through.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Down from her turret when the dusk was new<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The Lady Margot stepped and lured by wile<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of faint near things that croon of what they do<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With wandering touch she thought to walk the while<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">The hours were printless on the idle dial.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Deep in a garden lamped with lily bells<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Which hold the light as does some opal vial<br /></span> -<span class="i4">She took her way near where a fountain wells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wakes its rainbow ribbons into madrigals.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Fluttering she peered within the hollow gloom<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That cloistered a wild wood beyond the wall;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For shapes are woven by the troubled loom<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of night; and tremulous tapestries oft fall<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Across familiar paths and make them all<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Astir with effigies that snarl and grin<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And take strange steps along a horrid hall<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Which is by day a lane of leaves within;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if at night a holy nun should dream of sin.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">At length she reached a little windless glade<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Fragrant with natal April not long flown<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And dreamful of the days when lips were laid<br /></span> -<span class="i4">On lips that trembled as they found their own.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">There where the mooned close was thickest sown<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">With shadows was the lady met with one<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Who sat with drooping head and made soft moan.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">He was a stranger knight whose armour shone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bright as the molten golden javelins of the sun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">“What things are griefs?” the Lady Margot sighed<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And moved a little nearer pityingly.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“The wonder wasteth from my days,” he cried,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“The burden of my blessings wearieth me!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Lo I have journeyed from an unoared sea<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In the white north to where the winds caress<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Warm sail-sown oceans murmuring round a key<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Odorous with wine and fruit in fragrant dress——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet I passion for some little happiness.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">“Ay, now,” the lady cried, “most strangely come<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Are you, Sir Knight, for I am one who longs<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">As never heart has longed before for some<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Strange world, strange tongue tuneful with alien songs,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Strange mad old cities brooding on their wrongs,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With unfamiliar streets which smile and show<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Me many a colonnade and portico<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where some unclaimed and starry hour belongs.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O you who know all that I long for—bid me go!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">No strange thing seemed her prayer unto the knight<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Who knew her father’s little court by name,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And pitied her that all her beauty bright<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Must fail and fade in such confined fame.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Swiftly he knelt to her and with no shame<br /></span> -<span class="i4">She gave her hand the while he led her where<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Within the close the moon took silvery aim<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And lured a sickle bed of bloom to bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In bloom’s sweet stead a birth of stars pearly as air.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">The lady stooped and laid her little hand<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Upon a dreaming lily whose faint cream<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And gold, stirred at the fingers’ soft demand,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Dreamed that the white touch was their sweetest dream.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The lady rose and every opiate beam<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Made lucent pillage from her unbound hair<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And moths brushed lightly through the saffron stream<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In quest of stars. The lady was so fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the dusk swooned with passion and the light with prayer.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">“Nay, now, my child,” the knight said courteously,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Would that your joy lay in your castle home,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In phantom folk who pace your broidery,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In haunted parchment of a pictured tome.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But if you are of those whose hearts must roam<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Afar afield to meet the hushed advance<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of spheres and win from the blown spray and foam<br /></span> -<span class="i4">What weaker some leave to impotent chance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, by my blade, that blade shall bring deliverance!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">A little door, covert in creeping green,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Gave from the court upon the room where lay<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The aged doting nurse who wept, I ween,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">At all the Lady Margot strove to say.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But when it had proved vain to weep or pray,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">She rose and bade her trembling fingers light<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Her taper and thereby she led the way<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Through secret gates till, soberly bedight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The three set forth together in the faery night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">O many a league for many a day they went,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And some magician kind they were aware<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Delivered captive treasuries and spent<br /></span> -<span class="i4">His lavish store of beauty everywhere:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Slim brazen towers that taught the sun to share<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Its shining he revealed; and odorous gloom<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">Packing with odours the receiving air;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Flowered silken sails that set the sea abloom;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Isles spread with fabrics from the moon’s high loom.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Sometimes the lady knelt in a fleet prow<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That flung the gaudy bubbles from the blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And joyed to hear the lean blade of the bow<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Plunging the thundering sundered breakers through;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Keen swept the foam-born breaths of salt, to do<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Sweet violence to her pale cheek; and all<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The spirit of her fancy peopled new<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The perilous sea’s impermanent citadel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That kindled into spray with the ship’s rise and fall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Sometimes she stepped within a pillared way<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Dim grey with shade and honey-bright with sun<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where all the costly stuffs for barter lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And she might hear how many a drowsing one,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">Stretched on a pea-cock patterned skin, would run<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Soft syllable along soft syllable<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Praising the violet and vermilion<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of gems and cloths, right eager-tongued to tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">News musical with names to one who loved them well.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Meanwhile the stranger knight was by her side<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Burning to serve and welcoming command;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And never wish of hers might be denied<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For his swift sword was like a dexterous wand.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And by her side in all that alien land<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The old nurse journeyed plaintive and perplexed,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Condemning what she did not understand<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And with all other understanding vexed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Palsied and muttering charms for what should tide them next.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Then it befell that as they fared the knight<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Forgot his weariness and many a morn<br /></span> -<span class="i4">He faced with joy the lottery of light<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And walked no more apart in mood forlorn.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And now, her tremulous shyness half outworn,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The Lady Margot oft passed through a town<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And saw therein but trinkets to adorn<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Her little bodice and her silken gown;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he spoke she looked up swiftly and looked down.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">O sweet it was to see the two dream on.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">She wistful of the runes that he could teach<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of men and cities dreamed that in such wan<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Delights lay life; and he for her sweet speech<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With all its faery fancies would beseech<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And dreamed that in such fancies lay delight!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And all the time the heart of each for each<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Was calling with the ancient urge of night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For night what time the lotus of the dawn is white.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">At length they came to a melodious marge<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where with sweet perturbation the moved sea<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Crept lovingly about the land in large<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Embrace and from such soft nativity<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The music mounted in dissolving key<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And wed with wind. There in a crescent cove<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Sun-lorn and still, the eyes of each leaped free<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And all the world in a wild silence strove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bare its spirit in their breathed words of love.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">“O Sweet, my Sweet,” the knight quoth reverently,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Lo now the marvel: That I wearied sore<br /></span> -<span class="i4">On such a singing earth as this to be<br /></span> -<span class="i4">One whom the gods give ever one gift more!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">There is no spot from shore to patient shore<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That is not burdened with its waiting bliss;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">O yet, dear love, how little bliss it bore<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Were you not near to tremble at my kiss.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last we know the truth: The best of life is this.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Slow-dipped the idle sail without the bay<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Sun-smitten in the drowsy afternoon;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Unimaged in the ripples’ purple play<br /></span> -<span class="i4">White reefs of clouds on airy shores were strewn.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">All fairly the shadows fell and soon<br /></span> -<span class="i4">When gloaming was poured soft on beach and foam<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The sea gave up a silver shell—the moon.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Then tenderly she turned who longed to roam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Afar and whispered: “Love, would that our way led home!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Nearby upon a rainbow drift of weeds<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The old nurse mumbled at her prayers and charms,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And now her shaking fingers felt her beads,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And now in incantation her old arms<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Were raised to shadowy powers. O grim alarms<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Beset the gaping ones when love appears!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And never lovers’ glance or kiss half warms<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">The world but that some dotard nods and leers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the charnel souls are tip-toe with their fears.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Now silently across the glimmering sands<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Slow-paced the lady and the stranger knight,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And there were clinging lips and clinging hands<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And all the uses of the hour were bright;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But when they came to where the moon was white<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Upon the wet weeds, there the old dame lay<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Stark on the sea-moss and the labyrinth light<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Received her soul that knew it not. There may<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be heaven for such as mock at love but none can say.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Upon the sands the lady knelt and wept;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Her lover kissed away her pitying tears;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Nay, tender soul,” he said, “we have but kept<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The truce of nature with the yester-years.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">Now are the old things passed away, and fears<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For the new day are vain. Therefore arise.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Love vanquishes the past itself. Love hears<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The siren cities chant of home. Love’s eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have lit a sullen world for me to Paradise.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Into the silver dark the lovers went,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Over the silver sea to golden isles,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Piping their songs of heavenly wonderment<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And fabling the unhaunted age with smiles.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And ever with the swift melodious miles<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A sterner harmony breathed through their bliss;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“The old shall be outworn. That which reviles<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The gods shall perish by their ministries.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we will walk with truth: The best of life is this.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II</h2> - -<h3><a name="I_KNOW_WHERE_A_DOVE" id="I_KNOW_WHERE_A_DOVE"></a>I KNOW WHERE A DOVE——</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know where a dove sits brooding in the dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nested in leaves the quiet boughs among;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the midnight falls I lean to mark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her home where a star is hung.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The star, it does not know the secret dove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dove that firefly planet may not see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What lovelier things the night may fold from me——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The watching eye, the brooding heart, and love.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="PROLOCUTOR" id="PROLOCUTOR"></a>PROLOCUTOR</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O for one of the stars to know me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To say “That is she” as I say “It is there.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O for my hills to show me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If they care.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when I speak to them nothing hears me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even the bird on the near bough fears me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fire on my hearth does not know that it cheers me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">... Heart that waits by the fire, do you guess<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All you must voice in your tenderness?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="WONDER" id="WONDER"></a>WONDER</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here are the shadows veiling green with grey<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And winning all the wonder from the light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here phantom fragrance swells and fails like sound;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hour distills itself to dark; the day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dreams in its grave and lo, the dream is night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Beloved, all the marvel of the May,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The altared dark, the petals’ solemn white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moments rich with farewell from the lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of dying moments—what are these? We lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our love beside them and exceed the night.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="A_MEETING" id="A_MEETING"></a>A MEETING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I hear a sound like piping and like sails<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In silken talk with wind and like the speech<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of someone quiet in the blue of dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a quiet beach.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I see a light as when the last star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flowers faintly in the ashen morning sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And long wings appear and disappear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wheeling by.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I think of moons forgotten with their tides;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I think of all the red of east and west;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear the secret stir of nameless dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Conferring in my breast.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You make me long for colour and for song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And for old words on lips I did not know.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You make me dream of all I learned to dream<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How long ago.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HALF_THOUGHT1" id="HALF_THOUGHT1"></a>HALF THOUGHT</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O Day of Wind and laughter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A goddess born are you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose eyes are in the morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blue—blue.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The slumberous noon your body is,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your feet are the shadows’ flight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the immortal soul of you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is night.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="EPITAPHS" id="EPITAPHS"></a>EPITAPH</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He loved to lie where Summer lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His roof a cloud, a bough;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There stretched full-length to dream all day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is so with him now.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="EPITAPH2" id="EPITAPH2"></a>EPITAPH</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How fair a bride-groom Death must be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He took her in his arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her answering kiss now Spring is here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The valley leafage warms.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="ALIAS" id="ALIAS"></a>ALIAS</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Between the dawn and the first breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of dusk there slips away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something that partly is like death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And partly is like day.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="IN_ARVIAS_ROOM" id="IN_ARVIAS_ROOM"></a>IN ARVIA’S ROOM</h3> - -<p class="chead"><i>For Her Cradle</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I cannot tell you what you ask.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But of my life to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You who are wise and know your speech,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tell me.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For Her Mirror</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Look in the deep of me:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What are we going to do?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I am I, as I am,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who in the world are you?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For a Comb of Ivory</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Use me and think of soul and mind and wonder yet to be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This is the jest: Could soul touch soul if it were not for me?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For Her Doll’s House</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Girl doll would be a silken flower and look as real flowers do;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Boy doll would be a telephone and have the world speak through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The poet doll would like to be the doorbell with a tongue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For other little dolls like bells most sensitively rung.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The paper doll would be a queen, the Dinah doll a star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all—how ignominious!—are only what they are.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For Her Candle-stick</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Taper, winnow the world of its angles and where<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were sharp things lay softness, Night-god of the air!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For the Chimney-place</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am the causeway to the upper places<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That the fire understands.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am the link with everything unspoken.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How well I warm your hands.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For a Flower Pot</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Call sweetness into being.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Let it live in me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The seed, the soil, the sun and I<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Work with authority.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For the Telephone</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I the absurdity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Proving what cannot be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, when you talk with me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Does it become you well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To doubt a miracle?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>Along Her Book-shelf</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lay one hand on us; but keep the other free to touch far things which are not far—tenderly.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>Where Boughs Touch the Glass</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They lap on the indoor shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The waves of the leaf mere.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They say: We tell you as well as we can,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We wonder what you hear.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p class="chead"><i>For Her Window</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I see the stones, I see the stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I know not what I see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Things always say words to themselves<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And now and then to me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But sometimes when I look between<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Large stones and little stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I almost know—but what I know<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flies through the window bars.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="NON_NOBIS" id="NON_NOBIS"></a>NON NOBIS</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Find me little doors of air,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Let me in and in.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>I will come and go all day....</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>None will miss me from my place</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>In the room, the porch, the lawn</i>;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet I shall have a way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To enter and find quiet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Knit me in a garment.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Weave me in a spell.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>I shall look the same to them.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>They will see me in the street</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>In the shop, the car, the hall</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet all the time I shall be my own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a place where they do not come.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Will you not, dare you not,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Is it never meet?</i><br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span><span class="i0"><i>I will never let them know—— </i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Sweet, my Spirit, pardon me!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>I had forgot that stars are new</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And that it is the dawn of earth.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Doors and garments and spells I must make for myself.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among ten thousand of us I must find silence.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HALF_THOUGHT2" id="HALF_THOUGHT2"></a>HALF THOUGHT</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I saw Fair Yellow in the west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair Yellow in the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sand, the corn, a bird’s breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A woman’s hair.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My little room burst into light——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair Yellow had come there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fair Yellow is a being.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For when I said her name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I found a way of seeing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her as she came.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O how<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do our dull senses fail us now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leave us in some elemental shame!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There is so much to see and say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If we could find the way....<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="UMBRA" id="UMBRA"></a>UMBRA</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The birds of the air are about me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I am the conjuring one;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How they dip and hover and circle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through hyaline regions of sun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One has a wing like a petal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One wears a feather of flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silk and snow is the breast of another<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a word like a flute for a name.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How they sing ... in the morning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tilting soft the light beat of their flight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How their passionate chorales give cadence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the ample arcade of the night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes, the songs of the air are about me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet ... clear ... but they sing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the light of another morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the deep of another Spring.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="WRAITHS" id="WRAITHS"></a>WRAITHS</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who hears the answer when I cry?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O quiet hours and empty blue——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the echoful air beats back no sigh.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who is glad of the love that I give the green?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O haunted hollow in tide of leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who weaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Delight of mine on the flowery screen?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who harbours that little straying ghost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of our thought for each other before we knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love true?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Warm, warm in my heart and never lost.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HALF_THOUGHT3" id="HALF_THOUGHT3"></a>HALF THOUGHT</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Believe not Sorrow, her who brings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Confession of the folded wings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But seek you, burning, some frail birth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That sings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is her spirit beating through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Handful of earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It may be breath to you!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="WIND_SONG" id="WIND_SONG"></a>WIND SONG</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Horn of the morning!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the little night pipings fail.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day is launched like a hollow ship<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the sun for a sail.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The way is wide and blue and lone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all the miles inviolate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save for the swinging stars they’ve sown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a thistle of cloud remote and blown.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O I passion for something nearer than these!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How shall I know that this live thing is I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With only the morning for proof and the sky?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I long for a music more dear to its keys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a touch that shall teach me the new sureties,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give me some griefs and some loyalties<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a child’s mouth on my own....<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lullaby,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Babe of the world, swing high,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swing low.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am a mother you never may know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, how long the wind will know you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With lullaby for the dead night through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Babe of the earth, as I blow....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swing high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To touch at the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And at last lie low.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lullaby....<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HALF_THOUGHT4" id="HALF_THOUGHT4"></a>HALF THOUGHT</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When all the leaves of Spring turn gold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wind has no song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To whom then does the changeling green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Belong?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And who on what far waveless shore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Harps as Spring wind shall harp no more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Winter’s beat and roll?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O You, who such forgotten beauties hold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Find some faint loveliness unseen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And save it in a soul.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="TROTH" id="TROTH"></a>TROTH</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To-day an odour lay upon the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And did not fall from any mortal flower.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep they won their way within the hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who laid that odour there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A perfume as of all that cannot give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A perfume—ivory and ore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Colour and cloud and pearl and marl; and store<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the wild aroma of cave and hive.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was an inner perfume filtering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From other level than the great Midgard;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From a far and sphery home full-friendlier starred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where marvels lift light wing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By fragrance, fire and music do we prove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tender contact of a lovelier day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And these fair guarantors gently outray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From their far home—these three and also love.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="BELOVED_IT_IS_DAYBREAK_ON_THE_HILLS" id="BELOVED_IT_IS_DAYBREAK_ON_THE_HILLS"></a>BELOVED, IT IS DAYBREAK ON THE HILLS</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Beloved, it is daybreak on the hills.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark glimmers and goes out in cloudy light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faint on the marge of night the watchet dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifts like a lily from a quiet water.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that within me which is consonant<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is at its door to meet God’s infinite.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O Love, what banner shall we lift? And what<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Timbrel and incense bear? How shall we greet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God’s day, his hills, his fire, and join their beauty?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Voices reply that are no voice but breath:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Like beauty be thou nothing save his vesture.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="CREDO" id="CREDO"></a>CREDO</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O you not only worshipful but dear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now have I learned not merely majesty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But gentleness and friendlihood to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your way of drawing near.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And late, upon a blue and yellow day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wandering alone along a hill of Spring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I caught another tender summoning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if you were the comrad of my play.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How strange that I have looked so lone and far<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When it is you, Great Love, who lonely are.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How I have sought you in your cosmic leisure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When you are eager in my childish pleasure.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why there is no dim doctrine to believe!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only to feel this touching at my sleeve.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="WHO_IS_THIS_THAT_IS_SO_NEAR" id="WHO_IS_THIS_THAT_IS_SO_NEAR"></a>WHO IS THIS THAT IS SO NEAR?</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who is this that is so near?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a face and not a voice.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a sense of someone here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or of something not ourselves.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At no altar, from no ark——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is it He? O wonderful<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the day and in the dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To behold Him by no eyes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Is it They? Ask us not who.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As trees know when creatures pass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We may know when Those look through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From another kind of day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He and They within our sense.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As we hope of bird or root:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Lo, it has intelligence!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hidden ones may hope of us.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="INMOST_ONE" id="INMOST_ONE"></a>INMOST ONE</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Brilliant and lone she sat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon eternal height<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And veiled her face about.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was in fear of sin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was in fear of deadly night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw her eyes peer out.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I saw her eyes peer out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And knew she was divine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oh, her stedfast, dreadful gaze<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And her importunate doubt.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She did not make me word or sign<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or turn away her face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She did not make word or sign,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But as she watched me err<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her eyes grew cold like the dark star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her body ceased to shine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could not breathe for the breath of her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was frost of Winter and fire of war.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her body ceased to shine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I dare not let her die.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I opened my heart to the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I breathed her breath for mine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behold, that Inmost One was I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I was the inmost one.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I opened my heart to the sun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O colour and line, and birth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of wonder and word and light!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through love and her I have won<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The earth within the earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sight that is more than sight.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O colour and line and birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Birth of an order new,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a life that is more than my own ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Birth that is your birth ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Birth in me of you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O God, brilliant and lone!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="STONE_CELL" id="STONE_CELL"></a>STONE CELL</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let me not see thee, Lord God of my essential life, where thou art not.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let me not look upon colour and pray to thee believing thee to be colour.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let me not go in silence or in dream and dream thee to be that silence.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the failing of the light let me not thrill at the intricate touch of that spirit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who films light to shadow, and kneel believing ecstasy to be prayer.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From my dreams, from the siren singing and the imperious call,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the blinding joy and the august mystery of simple beauty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wilt not thou, compassionate, O deliver me, faint for beauty.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">God! If I were praying to be delivered from thee ...<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="LIGHT" id="LIGHT"></a>LIGHT</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We do not touch the texture of the light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But one may see with a secret eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The things that are.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then we divine that we need not die<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To win our heritage of sight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As well this earth as any other star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Waking from dream there trails an alien air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A residue of other suns than these;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We know that we have walked an inner way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have met familiars there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And kept our step in exquisite concord<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The while we spoke some unremembered word.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And over all there lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Light whose vibrations ran to other keys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than those we woke upon. Light whose long play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was dappled colour delicately kissed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strange fires rayed from strange regions of the Lord.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Light from the sun behind the sun fell where<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We went to keep our tryst.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In sleep and in the solitary dusk there come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fine lines of light upon the lowered lids,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A flush that lets us in the heart of night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hints dear wonders to be there at home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if the universal fabric bids<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its human pattern know that all is light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In snow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have we not seen the whiteness smitten through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sudden rays of glory, vague with veils,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of some beloved hue that pales<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To earthly rose and violet and blue?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who pulse within that light—we know, we know!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Soon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From without transition night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We would come into this, our own.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then the dim tune<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The which we almost hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The low-keyed colour and the word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We have not heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All these we shall be shown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And infinitely near<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To God, breathe for our breath his light.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HALF_THOUGHT5" id="HALF_THOUGHT5"></a>HALF THOUGHT</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I close my eyes and on the night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A face looks in at me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It speaks a word like burning light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I answer joyfully.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It dims away. The word is sped.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know not what we two have said.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The old dark sparkles like a star.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when shall we be touched with sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find the things that are?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="CONTOURS" id="CONTOURS"></a>CONTOURS</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am glad of the straight lines of the rain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the free blowing curves of the grain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the perilous swirling and curling of fire;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sharp upthrust of a spire;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the ripples on the river<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the patterns curl and quiver<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sun thrills;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the innumerable undulations of the hills.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the true line is drawn from my spirit to some infinite outward place ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That line I cannot trace.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III</h2> - -<h3><a name="NEWS_NOTES_OF_PORTAGE_WISCONSIN" id="NEWS_NOTES_OF_PORTAGE_WISCONSIN"></a>NEWS NOTES OF PORTAGE, WISCONSIN</h3> - -<h4>I<br /><br /> - -<a name="THE_KILBOURN_ROAD" id="THE_KILBOURN_ROAD"></a>THE KILBOURN ROAD</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In June the road to Kilbourn is a long green hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A corridor of leafage pillared white<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By birches and with wild-rose patterns on the wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all melodious with the fluid fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or lift of red-winged blackbirds fluting mating cries.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The very air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is visible, not by the light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not by the shades that drift<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dip, but by an essence rhythmic with the flood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That flows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not in the sap, not in the blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But otherwhere.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of that essence grows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All men see in the air of Paradise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He lay upon a little upland slope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep, deep with grass.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I saw his head above the green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where I must pass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The battered hat, the squinting eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blinking the westering sun, I felt a sting of fear——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas, that in June’s delicate demesne<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A watching human face can teach one fear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So then I spoke to him, gave him good day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And seeing his gun said what I always say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Meeting a huntsman: “Friend, I hope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You have killed nothing here.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He stared and grinned. And with his grin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I felt his trustiness. So when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He scrambled down the bank and followed me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I waited for him as my kind and kin.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He was a thing of seventeen. And men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Compounded in his blood had set him here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wizened and hump-backed. But his little face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Held something of the one he was to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In some eternity.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He talked as freely as a child. He’d shot, he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At a young wood-chuck. Now his gun was broke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it’d cost a dollar and a half<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To mend it. Then I spoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About a little kerchief made of lace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lost on the road that day. He turned his head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Did it have money in it, Lady?”—with quick grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caught from some knightlier place.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I asked him what he read<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He tried to rise to all my speech awoke.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A person give me a book a while ago.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, I donno<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The name—the cover’s off. I got, I guess,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two pages done. Time the stock’s fed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I get so sleepy I jump into bed.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—And with this, for defence, a rueful laugh.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I named the town not two miles distant. No,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He hardly ever went there. Motion picture show?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His eyes lit. Several times he’d been.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">War pictures was the best. He liked to kill?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He hung his head. “No, but I never will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shoot pups or kittens when they want me to.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">War’s different.” School? He’d seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Four years of that—well, four years, more or less.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dad needed him—dad had so much to do.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So then I faced him and his need to live.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I put it plain: “But you?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What do you want to do?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His answer lay within him, ready made.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He met my eyes with all he had to give.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I’d like,” he said, “to learn the artist trade.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Questioned, he told me bit by little bit.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d had a horse that died—he’d painted her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d painted Tige, the dog. The pigeon house.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fence that crossed the slough. The willow tree.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would he let me see?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, well—they wasn’t much. He couldn’t stir——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The paint right, and he didn’t have enough.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All that he’d done was rough.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I tried to spell his dream,—to see if his face lit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At flame of it.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He only said: “Mebbe I couldn’t learn.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his eyes did not burn.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(“Perhaps,” I thought, “there’s nothing here at all.”)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Dad’s going to have me paint the house,” he said.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I questioned where he led.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Yellow and brown,” he answered. And my fancy’s fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He must have fathomed in my face for a slow red<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mounted and swept his cheek. His eyes sought mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His look was piteous with a kind of light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I don’t like that. They picked it out,” he said. “I wanted white.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all his tone was shame.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The craftsman wounded in his craftsman’s right<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In ways he could not name.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He took the cross-road. Where I saw him go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wild fever-few made narrow paths of snow<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the flat fields of dying afternoon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bravely in tune<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With every little part as with some whole<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A red wing answered to an oriole<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And met a cat bird’s call.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun! The sun! The road to Kilbourn like a long green hall!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The very air a spirit like our own<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So nearly shown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That one could almost see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The veil so thin that presence was outrayed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But all the great blue day came facing me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And crying from the vault and from the sod:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Oh God, oh God.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<i>I’d like</i>,’ he said, ‘<i>to learn the artist trade!</i>’<span class="lftspc">”</span><br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>II<br /><br /> - -<a name="VIOLIN" id="VIOLIN"></a>VIOLIN</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One night on some light errand I sat beside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cooking-stove in Johann’s sitting-room.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within there was the cheer of lamp and fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stove-draught yawning red and wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The table with its rosy cotton spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A blue chair-cover from a home-land loom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A baby’s bed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in that odour of cleanliness and food<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Johann, the labourer worthy of his hire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For seven days a week, twelve hours a day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At some vague toil “down in the yard.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Hard?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What o’ that? Look at the luck I’ve got to keep the place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And draw my pay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had been strong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still his body kept its ruggedness.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet he was old and stiffened and he moved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As one who is wrapped round in something thick.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But O, his face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His face was like the faces that look out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From bark and hole of trees all marred and grooved,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All laid about<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With old varieties of silence and of wrong.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such faces are locked long<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In men, in stones, in wood, in earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awaiting birth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Johann’s face was less<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Expectant than the happy dead awaiting to become the quick.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His wife said much about how hard she tried.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She chattered high and shrill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About the burden and the eating ill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His mother, little, thin, half-blind and cross,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With scarlet flannel round her throat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put in her note,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muttered about the cold, the draught, her side——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Small ineffectual chants of little loss,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With never a word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the great gossip which she had not heard:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That life had passed her by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The little room beset me like the din<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And prick of scourges. All<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At once I looked upon the spattered wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And saw a violin.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza-ital"> -<span class="i4">A hall<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Vast, bright and breathing.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In the upper air<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A chord, a flower of tone, a quiet wreathing<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Along the lift and fall<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of some clear current in the blood<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Now delicately understood,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Till all the hearing ones below<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Are where<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The voices call.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">O now they know<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">What music is. It is that which they are<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Themselves. Infinite bells,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of silence in a little sheath. Deep wells<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of being in a little cup. Star upon star<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Veiled save one reaching ray.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And see! The people turn<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And for a breath they look<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Out into one another’s eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And shine and burn<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Wise, wise,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With ultimate knowledge of the good<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That seeks one whole.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And how<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Eternity begins<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And ever is beginning now<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A thousand hearts learn from the violins.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“My back ain’t right. My head ain’t right. I’m almost dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fill the hot water bag. I’m goin’ to bed....”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ten pairs of socks I’ve darned to-night. I try<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To do the best I can....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i10">I put the women by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Johann,” I said, “you play?” He shook his head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I lost it, loggin’——” he held up a stump of thumb.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I took six lessons once,” he said.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I sat there, dumb.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From out the inner place of music there had come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long long ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some viewless one to tell him how to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What waits upon the page<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To beat the rhythm of the world. He heard; and tried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To stumble toward the door graciously wide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For other feet than his.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I took six lessons once,” he said with pride.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was all we gave him of his heritage.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>III<br /><br /> - -<a name="NORTH_STAR" id="NORTH_STAR"></a>NORTH STAR</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His boy had stolen some money from a booth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the County Fair. I found the father in his kitchen.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For years he had driven a dray and the heavy lifting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had worn him down. So through his evenings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He slept by the kitchen stove as I found him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mother was crying and ironing.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I thought about the mother,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For she brought me a photograph<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Taken at a street fair on her wedding day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was so trim and white and he so neat and alert<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the picture with their friends about them——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw that she wanted me to know their dignity from the first.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But afterward I thought more about the father.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For as he came with me to the door I could not forbear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To say how bright and near the stars seemed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then he leaned and peered from beneath his low roof,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“<i>There used to be a star called the Nord Star.</i>”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="PROSE_NOTES" id="PROSE_NOTES"></a>PROSE NOTES</h3> - -<h4>I<br /><br /> - -<a name="THE_BUREAU" id="THE_BUREAU"></a>THE BUREAU</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In anger, in irritation, in argument, what happens to you and me?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something fine weaving us round is torn open.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something fine permeating us is drawn from the veins.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Presences waiting to understand us retreat to a farther ante-room of us.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little cells are incommunicably sealed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All this happened to me and some strange progress was halted until something in me could be repaired.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The whole race halted with me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The light of the remotest star, do you imagine that it did not know?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Innumerable influences ceased to pour upon us all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it was because someone left the attic window open and it had rained on an old bureau.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>II<br /><br /> - -<a name="MINUET" id="MINUET"></a>MINUET</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I went from Fifth avenue into the Plaza on a sunny Winter morning.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There on a little stage it was Spring. A shepherdess walked.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside a stream girls were tying garlands. A harp was touched.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shepherdess and her lovers danced a minuet on the bright emerald of that shining field.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Down by Brooklyn Bridge——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now this sharp contrast will shock you, but we must not interrupt the minuet——<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know a place down by Brooklyn Bridge where a woman<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Young, once pretty, still with tender eyes)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Carries water up five flights of stairs to do washing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I watched the minuet and I thought about that woman.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did God create two worlds?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or has man made a world? And can man see that his world is good?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>III<br /><br /> - -<a name="THE_DINING_ROOM" id="THE_DINING_ROOM"></a>THE DINING ROOM</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I laid the blue dishes on the table.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dining room was still and sunny.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Zinnias were in a brown basket,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The grape-fruit plant was glossy in a window.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Skilful fingers had wrought the border of the curtain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My grand-mother’s blue pitcher was on the sideboard.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There were chestnut leaves in the brown rug.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Barometer and thermometer recorded miracle on the rose wall.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark wood paneled and beamed us in together.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As I worked these exquisite patient familiar things let me within.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They let me look with their eyes, feel with their beating pulses of hurrying molecules.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I perceived how locomotion and consciousness and self-consciousness have advanced us.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By what means shall we go forward now?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Does anyone wonder at my slow patience as I wonder at the slow patience of these exquisite and familiar things?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>IV<br /><br /> - -<a name="PARADISE_AND_PURGATORY" id="PARADISE_AND_PURGATORY"></a>PARADISE AND PURGATORY</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Do you ever go into your room and find familiar things unfamiliar.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muslin curtains thinned by moonlight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Open window, candle, mirror, expectant chairs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long smooth waiting bed—do they not bear another aspect<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if you had divined them doing their duty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if to be inanimate clearly involved a process,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if they were surprised at their creeping task of going back to earth, rising in plants, quickening into beings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is the great work of those patient things.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is why they look so intent.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So with all your preoccupation in dressing for to-day<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your object is the same as that of these humble ones.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only you have reached a paradise where you can hasten your way.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But these others are yet in purgatory.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>V<br /><br /> - -<a name="AT_LEAST" id="AT_LEAST"></a>AT LEAST ...</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On that day of wild joyous wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I filled my being with warm hurrying air.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pouring sun was in my heart like water in a well.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ran in the pulsing tonic currents.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the time, melodious in my mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There beat and strove the measure of a tune.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then for a breath I understood: Glory without and flame within,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They passioned to belong to each other.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I—I was the interruption.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From that time I gave my body to be a harp:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the world without, breath of the soul within,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will try to let you interflow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">August Presences, at least, at least may I not hinder you.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>VI<br /><br /> - -<a name="ROSES" id="ROSES"></a>ROSES</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Only once have I been sure that a rose answered me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Always the reticence of roses was the aloofness of the peak<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A rose would never admit me, speak to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Listen to me, reply to me, do other than suffer me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But one day after our barbarous fashion I lifted a rose to my face.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Suddenly, thrillingly, the rose replied. It, too, touched at me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We had something to exchange.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What am I to do that this shall be true of every flower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every animal, every stone, every manufactured article,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every created object—yes, even every person of the world?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>VII<br /><br /> - -<a name="SPRING_EVENING" id="SPRING_EVENING"></a>SPRING EVENING</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I heard her at the telephone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Do come early,” she was saying, “while the light lasts.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dog-wood is in blossom, the mountains are wonderful.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is,” she said, “too heavenly. Do come, while the light lasts....”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Outside on the veranda I could see the light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could see the dog-wood in bloom and a mountain<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And more!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">What else there was I am trying to tell:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not colour for I am no artist. Not glamour for I am not in love;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not any more magic than I am accustomed to;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not presence I think—though perhaps after all it was presence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But something else was there, exquisite, insistent.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she came back I looked up to see if it met her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she only said: “It is too heavenly.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hope they will come while the light lasts.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I knew that she did not see what I saw.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But what did I see....<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>VIII<br /><br /> - -<a name="SECOND_SIGHT" id="SECOND_SIGHT"></a>SECOND SIGHT</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Can the world have been created for you and me to do all that fills our days:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Care of a house, lawn, shop, billion dollar business?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are not enough for us.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can the world have been created for the nations to do all that fills their days:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trading, peacefully penetrating, warring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or when the mood changes, motoring down one another’s roads, decorating one another, bowing at one another’s courts?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are not enough for the nations.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What is the world for?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once in an apple orchard at mid-day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had a moment of second sight as I watched a child at play.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">She shone with light like a holy child. She was pure.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was growing. She was nothing, nothing but love.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was all that we might be, we and the nations.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was all that we shall be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, let us face it!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>IX<br /><br /> - -<a name="DOES_SOMETHING_WAIT" id="DOES_SOMETHING_WAIT"></a>DOES SOMETHING WAIT?</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Go and wait somewhere. Take no book, no paper, no solitaire or needle task.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nay but forbid yourself also that you reckon the profit or plan a feast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or discern dust on the lamp;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That you consider to whom to sell or what to wear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go and wait somewhere, with forgotten muscles.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now does something wait with you, glad and welcoming that you are free to turn to it?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then you have bread that you know not of and it is brought to you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or do you merely sit with an hundred fibres in you pressing to be gone?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then you are in danger of starvation.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By this means we may almost know what we are.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>X<br /><br /> - -<a name="DOORS" id="DOORS"></a>DOORS</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At the edge of consciousness is a little door.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What goes by?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now a wing of brightness, of colour, of something out there that I love more than I am accustomed to loving.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now fares by a delicate shadow, patterned, fleet, that I long to know more than I am accustomed to knowing.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There must be so much more to love and to know than the little loves and the little knowledge.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then someone knocks at my door.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wing of brightness, the delicate shadow were but the sign.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What am I to do?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will find my way to the edge of my consciousness,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will gain the door, I will have my freedom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will love and know and be all being.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou art the liberator. Why it is true....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>XI<br /><br /> - -<a name="LEVITATION" id="LEVITATION"></a>LEVITATION</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Three times that day came the sense of levitation.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if court-house walk, walnut shadow, a length of sunny lawn let her go by with no tribute of her touch.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seemed as if the wonderful would happen.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She waited, prepared for the vision.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day flowered, ripened, mellowed, fell upon night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No presence opened or signaled.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then she went to embosom that which the hours had left her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She faced her day, and her day gathered itself as a living thing with a voice and deep eyes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It said, I was wonderful.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet the only thing to happen that day had been this:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old Edgerton Bascom came to the porch, selling buttons.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She bought from him, picked her dahlias for his wife.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He went away, comforted, restored to self-respect by her purchase.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps when levitation comes it will be a matter of this kind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rather than of calculation and reckoning.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h4>XII<br /><br /> - -<a name="ENCHANTMENT" id="ENCHANTMENT"></a>ENCHANTMENT</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In this house I perform all as seriously as may be required.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I accept my desk, my little tools, lamp, paper.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I write in the one language which I have been taught and about the few things with which I am familiar.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I eat the little round of food which it is said will nourish my body.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About my books I am docile and I learn from them.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I look no farther than my window permits.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I wish to emerge I go obediently to the door as if there were conceivable no other way of exit.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At night I fall into sleep as if that were eternal purpose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I suffer from absence, I submit to distance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am subject to innumerable influences,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am open to them all with a sober face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But all the time I have knowledge that I am something other;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That all these things shall ultimately have no more power over me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I consent to them because of some delicate exigency in this moment of eternity.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even now I am often free of them.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was the day when I moved among the hills and lost every sense of difference from them.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the crowning cloud and the far filament of the river I found myself in common.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The air was vocal with all that is identical and in that hour it offered to me my identity.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I became everything. I had no question to ask for it was I, too, who was answering.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hour dissolved. The ultimate star was my neighbour.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">... Suddenly I remembered myself down in the valley moving about in a house.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I perceived that for years I have been enchanted.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am listening to be set free.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret Way, by Zona Gale - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET WAY *** - -***** This file should be named 60146-h.htm or 60146-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/4/60146/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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