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diff --git a/old/psen10h.htm b/old/psen10h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d8dd39a..0000000 --- a/old/psen10h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2036 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> -<title>Poems of Sentiment</title> -</head> -<body> -<h2> -<a href="#startoftext">Poems of Sentiment, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a> -</h2> -<pre> -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems of Sentiment, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox -(#9 in our series by Ella Wheeler Wilcox) - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. - -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. - -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** - - -Title: Poems of Sentiment - -Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox - -Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6617] -[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] -[This file was first posted on December 31, 2002] - -Edition: 10 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII -</pre> -<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> -<p>Transcribed from the 1919 Gay and Hancock edition by David Price, -email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h1>POEMS OF SENTIMENT</h1> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>Contents:<br /> Double Carnations<br /> Never -Mind<br /> Two Women<br /> It All -Will Come Out Right<br /> A Warning<br /> Shrines<br /> The -Watcher<br /> Swimming Song<br /> The -Law<br /> Love, Time, and Will<br /> The -Two Ages<br /> Couleur de Rose<br /> Last -Love<br /> Life’s Track<br /> An -Ode to Time<br /> Regret and Remorse<br /> Easter -Morn<br /> Blind<br /> The Yellow-covered -Almanac<br /> The Little White Hearse<br /> Realisation<br /> Success<br /> The -Lady and the Dame<br /> Heaven and Hell<br /> Love’s -Supremacy<br /> The Eternal Will<br /> Insight<br /> A -Woman’s Love<br /> The Pæan of Peace<br /> “Has -Been”<br /> Duty’s Path<br /> March<br /> The -End of the Summer<br /> Sun Shadows<br /> “He -that Looketh”<br /> An Erring Woman’s Love<br /> A -Song of Republics<br /> Memorial Day - 1892<br /> When -baby Souls Sail Out<br /> To Another Woman’s -Baby<br /> Diamonds<br /> Rubies<br /> Sapphires<br /> Turquoise<br /> Reform<br /> A -Minor Chord<br /> Death’s Protest<br /> September<br /> Wail -of an Old-timer<br /> Was, Is, and Yet-to-be<br /> Mistakes<br /> Dual<br /> The -All-creative Spark<br /> Be not Content<br /> Action<br /> Two -Roses<br /> Satiety<br /> A Solar -Eclipse<br /> A Suggestion<br /> The -Depths<br /> Life’s Opera<br /> The -Salt Sea-wind<br /> New Year<br /> Concentration<br /> Thoughts<br /> Luck</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<h2>DOUBLE CARNATIONS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p> A wild Pink nestled in a garden bed,<br />A rich -Carnation flourished high above her,<br /> One day -he chanced to see her pretty head<br />And leaned and looked again, -and grew to love her.</p> -<p> The Moss (her humble mother) saw with fear<br />The -ardent glances of the princely stranger;<br /> With -many an anxious thought and dewy tear<br />She sought to hide her darling -from this danger.</p> -<p> The gardener-guardian of this noble bud<br />A -cruel trellis interposed between them.<br /> No common -Pink should mate with royal blood,<br />He said, and sought in every -way to wean them.</p> -<p> The poor Pink pined and faded day by day:<br />Her -restless lover from his prison bower<br /> Called in -a priestly bee who passed that way,<br />And sent a message to the sorrowing -flower.</p> -<p> The fainting Pink wept as the bee drew near,<br />Droning -his prayers, and begged him to confess her.<br /> Her -weary mother, over-taxed by fear,<br />Slept, while the priest leaned -low to shrive and bless her.</p> -<p> But lo! ere long the tale went creeping out,<br />The -rich Carnation and the Pink were married!<br /> The -cunning bee had brought the thing about<br />While Mamma Moss in Slumber’s -arms had tarried.</p> -<p> And proud descendants of that loving pair,<br />The -offspring of that true and ardent passion,<br /> Are -famous for their beauty everywhere,<br />And leaders in the floral world -of fashion.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>NEVER MIND</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Whatever your work and whatever its worth,<br /> No -matter how strong or clever,<br />Some one will sneer if you pause to -hear,<br /> And scoff at your best endeavour.<br />For -the target art has a broad expanse,<br /> And wherever -you chance to hit it,<br />Though close be your aim to the bull’s-eye -fame,<br /> There are those who will never admit it.</p> -<p>Though the house applauds while the artist plays,<br /> And -a smiling world adores him,<br />Somebody is there with an ennuied air<br /> To -say that the acting bores him.<br />For the tower of art has a lofty -spire,<br /> With many a stair and landing,<br />And -those who climb seem small oft-time<br /> To one at -the bottom standing.</p> -<p>So work along in your chosen niche<br /> With a -steady purpose to nerve you;<br />Let nothing men say who pass your -way<br /> Relax your courage or swerve you.<br />The -idle will flock by the Temple of Art<br /> For just -the pleasure of gazing;<br />But climb to the top and do not stop,<br /> Though -they may not all be praising.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>TWO WOMEN</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I know two women, and one is chaste<br />And cold as the snows on -a winter waste,<br />Stainless ever in act and thought<br />(As a man, -born dumb, in speech errs not).<br />But she has malice toward her kind,<br />A -cruel tongue and a jealous mind.<br />Void of pity and full of greed,<br />She -judges the world by her narrow creed;<br />A brewer of quarrels, a breeder -of hate,<br />Yet she holds the key to “Society’s” -Gate.</p> -<p>The other woman, with heart of flame,<br />Went mad for a love that -marred her name:<br />And out of the grave of her murdered faith<br />She -rose like a soul that has passed through death.<br />Her aims are noble, -her pity so broad,<br />It covers the world like the mercy of God.<br />A -soother of discord, a healer of woes,<br />Peace follows her footsteps -wherever she goes.<br />The worthier life of the two, no doubt,<br />And -yet “Society” locks her out.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>IT ALL WILL COME OUT RIGHT</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Whatever is a cruel wrong,<br /> Whatever is unjust,<br />The -honest years that speed along<br /> Will trample in -the dust.<br />In restless youth I railed at fate<br /> With -all my puny might,<br />But now I know if I but wait<br /> It -all will come out right.</p> -<p>Though Vice may don the judge’s gown<br /> And -play the censor’s part,<br />And Fact be cowed by Falsehood’s -frown<br /> And Nature ruled by art;<br />Though Labour -toils through blinding tears<br /> And idle Wealth -is might,<br />I know the honest, earnest years<br /> Will -bring it all out right.</p> -<p>Though poor and loveless creeds may pass<br /> For -pure religion’s gold;<br />Though ignorance may rule the mass<br /> While -truth meets glances cold,<br />I know a law complete, sublime,<br /> Controls -us with its might,<br />And in God’s own appointed time<br /> It -all will come out right.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A WARNING</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>There was a flame, oh! such a tiny flame -<br /> One -fleeting hour had spanned its birth and death,<br /> But -for a silly child with playful breath<br />Who fanned it into fury. -It became<br />A mighty conflagration. Ah, the cost!<br />House, -home, and thoughtless child alike were lost.</p> -<p>Lady beware. Fan not the harmless glow<br /> Of -admiration into ardent love,<br /> Lean not with red -curled smiling lips above<br />The flickering spark of sinless flame, -and blow,<br />Lest in the sudden waking of desire<br />Thou, like the -child, shalt perish in the fire.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SHRINES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>About a holy shrine or sacred place,<br /> Where -many hearts have bowed in earnest prayer,<br />The loveliest spirits -congregate from space,<br /> And bring their sweet, -uplifting influence there.</p> -<p>If in your chamber you pray oft and well,<br /> Soon -will these angel-messengers arrive<br />And make their home with you, -and where they dwell<br /> All worthy toil and purposes -shall thrive.</p> -<p>I know a humble, plainly furnished room,<br /> So -thronged with presences serene and bright,<br />The heaviest heart therein -forgets its gloom<br /> As in some gorgeous temple -filled with light.</p> -<p>Those heavenly spirits, beauteous and divine,<br /> Live -only in an atmosphere of prayer;<br />Make for yourself a sacred, fervent -shrine,<br /> And you will find them swiftly flocking -there.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE WATCHER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>She gave her soul and body for a carriage,<br /> And -livened lackey with a vacant grin,<br />And all the rest - house, lands -- and called it marriage:<br /> The bargain made, a -husband was thrown in.</p> -<p>And now, despite her luxury, she’s faded,<br /> Gone -is the bloom that was so fresh and bright;<br />She has the dark-rimmed -eye, the countenance jaded,<br /> Of one who watches -with the sick at night.</p> -<p>Ah, heaven, she does! her sick heart, sick and dying,<br /> Beyond -the aid of human skill to save,<br />In that cold room her breast is -hourly lying,<br /> And her grim thoughts crowd near -to dig its grave.</p> -<p>And yet it lingers, suffering and wailing,<br /> As -sick hearts will that feed upon despair,<br />And that lone watcher, -unrelieved, is paling<br /> With vigils that no pitying -soul can share.</p> -<p>Ah, lady! it is hardly what you thought it,<br /> This -life of luxury and social power;<br />You gave yourself as principal, -and bought it,<br /> But God extracts the interest -hour by hour.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SWIMMING SONG</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p> I am coming, coming to thee,<br /> My -strong-armed lover, the Sea!<br />On thy great broad breast I will lie -and rest,<br /> And thou shalt talk to me.</p> -<p> I have come to thee, all unsought,<br /> I -have stolen an hour from thought,<br />And peace and power thou canst -give in that hour,<br /> Which thy rival Earth gives -not.</p> -<p> Alone here, under the sky,<br /> And -the whole world drifting by!<br />Thy breast of brine thrills close -to mine,<br /> While the cloudless sun sails high.</p> -<p> I fly, but thou givest chase -<br /> Thy -kisses are on my face!<br />Be bold and free as thou wilt, O Sea,<br /> There -is life in thy close embrace.</p> -<p> Throat and cheek and tress<br /> Are -damp where thy salt lips press!<br />There is strength and bliss in -thy daring kiss,<br /> And joy in thy bold caress.</p> -<p> And what is the Earth to me!<br /> I -have left it all, O Sea!<br />With its dust and soil and strife and -toil,<br /> For one glad hour with thee.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE LAW</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun<br />Will sweep on its course -till the cycle is run.<br />And when into chaos the systems are hurled,<br />Again -shall the Builder reshape a new world.</p> -<p>Your path may be clouded, uncertain your goal;<br />Move on, for -the orbit is fixed for your soul.<br />And though it may lead into darkness -of night,<br />The torch of the Builder shall give it new light.</p> -<p>You were, and you will be: know this while you are.<br />Your spirit -has travelled both long and afar.<br />It came from the Source, to the -Source it returns;<br />The spark that was lighted, eternally burns.</p> -<p>It slept in the jewel, it leaped in the wave,<br />It roamed in the -forest, it rose in the grave,<br />It took on strange garbs for long -æons of years,<br />And now in the soul of yourself it appears.</p> -<p>From body to body your spirit speeds on;<br />It seeks a new form -when the old one is gone;<br />And the form that it finds is the fabric -you wrought<br />On the loom of the mind, with the fibre of thought.</p> -<p>As dew is drawn upward, in rain to descend,<br />Your thoughts drift -away and in destiny blend.<br />You cannot escape them; or petty, or -great,<br />Or evil, or noble, they fashion your fate.</p> -<p>Somewhere on some planet, sometime and somehow,<br />Your life will -reflect all the thoughts of your now.<br />The law is unerring; no blood -can atone;<br />The structure you rear you must live in alone.</p> -<p>From cycle to cycle, through time and through space,<br />Your lives -with your longings will ever keep pace.<br />And all that you ask for, -and all you desire,<br />Must come at your bidding, as flames out of -fire.</p> -<p>Once list to that voice and all tumult is done,<br />Your life is -the life of the Infinite One;<br />In the hurrying race you are conscious -of pause,<br />With love for the purpose and love for the cause.</p> -<p>You are your own devil, you are your own God,<br />You fashioned -the paths that your footsteps have trod,<br />And no one can save you -from error or sin,<br />Until you shall hark to the Spirit within.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LOVE, TIME, AND WILL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>A soul immortal, Time, God everywhere,<br />Without, within - how -can a heart despair,<br />Or talk of failure, obstacles, and doubt?<br />(What -proofs of God? The little seeds that sprout,<br />Life, and the -solar system, and their laws.<br />Nature? Ah, yes; but what was -Nature’s cause?)</p> -<p>All mighty words are short: God, life, and death,<br />War, peace, -and truth, are uttered in a breath.<br />And briefly said are love, -and will, and time;<br />Yet in them lies a majesty sublime.</p> -<p>Love is the vast constructive power of space;<br />Time is the hour -which calls it into place;<br />Will is the means of using time and -love,<br />And bringing forth the heart’s desires thereof.</p> -<p>The way is love, the time is now, and will<br />The patient method. -Let this knowledge fill<br />Thy consciousness, and fate and circumstance,<br />Environment, -and all the ills of chance<br />Must yield before the concentrated might<br />Of -those three words, as shadows yield to light.</p> -<p>Go, charge thyself with love; be infinite<br />And opulent with thy -large use of it:<br />’Tis from free sowing that full harvest -springs;<br />Love God and life and all created things.</p> -<p>Learn time’s great value; to this mandate bow,<br />The hour -of opportunity is Now,<br />And from thy will, as from a well-strung -bow,<br />Let the swift arrows of thy wishes go.<br />Though sent into -the distance and the dark,<br />The dawn shall prove thy arrows hit -the mark.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE TWO AGES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>On great cathedral window I have seen<br />A summer sunset swoon -and sink away,<br />Lost in the splendours of immortal art.<br />Angels -and saints and all the heavenly hosts,<br />With smiles undimmed by -half a thousand years,<br />From wall and niche have met my lifted gaze.<br />Sculpture -and carving and illumined page,<br />And the fair, lofty dreams of architects,<br />That -speak of beauty to the centuries -<br />All these have fed me with divine -repasts.<br />Yet in my mouth is left a bitter taste,<br />The taste -of blood that stained that age of art.</p> -<p>Those glorious windows shine upon the black<br />And hideous structure -of the guillotine;<br />Beside the haloed countenance of saints<br />There -hangs the multiple and knotted lash.<br />The Christ of love, benign -and beautiful,<br />Looks at the torture-rack, by hate conceived<br />And -bigotry sustained. The prison cell,<br />With blood-stained walls, -where starving men went mad,<br />Lies under turrets matchless in their -grace.</p> -<p>God, what an age! How was it that You let<br />Colossal genius -and colossal crime<br />Walk for a hundred years across the earth,<br />Like -giant twins? How was it then that men,<br />Conceiving such vast -beauty for the world,<br />And such large hopes of heaven, could entertain<br />Such -hellish projects for their fellow-men?<br />How could the hand that, -with consummate skill<br />And loving patience, limned the luminous -page,<br />Drop pen and brush, and seize the branding-rod,<br />To scourge -a brother for his differing faith?</p> -<p>Not great this age in beauty or in art;<br />Nothing is wrought to-day -that shall endure,<br />For earth’s adornment, through long centuries<br />Not -ours the fervid worship of a God<br />That wastes its splendid opulence -on glass,<br />Leaving but hate, to give it mortal kin.<br />Yet great -this age: its mighty work is man<br />Knowing himself, the universal -life.<br />And great our faith, which shows itself in works<br />For -human freedom and for racial good.<br />The true religion lies in being -kind.<br />No age is greater than its faith is broad.<br />Through liberty -and love men climb to God.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>COULEUR DE ROSE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> -<p>I want more lives in which to love<br /> This world -so full of beauty,<br />I want more days to use the ways<br /> I -know of doing duty;<br />I ask no greater joy than this<br /> (So -much I am life’s lover),<br />When I reach age to turn the page<br /> And -read the story over.<br /> (O love, stay near!)</p> -<p>O rapturous promise of the Spring!<br /> O June -fulfilling after!<br />If Autumns sigh, when Summers die,<br /> ’Tis -drowned in Winter’s laughter.<br />O maiden dawns, O wifely noons,<br /> O -siren sweet, sweet nights,<br />I’d want no heaven could earth -be given<br /> Again with its delights<br /> (If -love stayed near).</p> -<p>There are such glories for the eye,<br /> Such pleasures -for the ear,<br />The senses reel with all they feel<br /> And -see and taste and hear;<br />There are such ways of doing good,<br /> Such -ways of being kind,<br />And bread that’s cast on waters fast<br /> Comes -home again, I find.<br /> (O love, stay near.)</p> -<p>There are such royal souls to know,<br /> There -is so much to learn,<br />While secrets rest in Nature’s breast<br /> And -unnamed stars still burn.<br />God toiled six days to make this earth,<br /> I -think the good folks say -<br />Six lives we need to give full meed<br /> Of -praise - one for each day<br /> (If love stay near).</p> -<p>But oh! if love fled far away,<br /> Or veiled his -face from me,<br />One life too much, why then were such<br /> A -life as this would be.<br />With sullen May and blighted June,<br /> Blurred -dawn and haggard night,<br />This dear old world in space were hurled<br /> If -love lent not his light.<br /> (O love, stay near!)</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LAST LOVE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The first flower of the spring is not so fair<br />Or bright as one -the ripe midsummer brings.<br />The first faint note the forest warbler -sings<br />Is not as rich with feeling, or so rare<br />As when, full -master of his art, the air<br />Drowns in the liquid sea of song he -flings<br />Like silver spray from beak, and breast, and wings.<br />The -artist’s earliest effort, wrought with care,<br />The bard’s -first ballad, written in his tears,<br />Set by his later toil, seems -poor and tame,<br />And into nothing dwindles at the test.<br />So with -the passions of maturer years.<br />Let those who will demand the first -fond flame,<br />Give me the heart’s <i>last love</i>, for that -is best.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LIFE’S TRACK</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>This game of life is a dangerous play,<br />Each human soul must -watch alway,<br /> From the first to the very last.<br />I -care not however strong and pure -<br />Let no man say he is perfectly -sure<br /> The dangerous reefs are past.</p> -<p>For many a rock may lurk near by,<br />That never is seen when the -tide is high -<br /> Let no man dare to boast,<br />When -the hand is full of trumps - beware,<br />For that is the time when -thought and care<br /> And nerve are needed most.</p> -<p>As the oldest jockey knows to his cost,<br />Full many a well-run -race is lost<br /> A brief half length from the wire.<br />And -many a soul that has fought with sin,<br />And gained each battle, at -last gives in<br /> To sudden, fierce desire.</p> -<p>And vain seems the effort of spur and whip,<br />Or the hoarse, hot -cry of the pallid lip,<br /> When once we have fallen -back.<br />It is better to keep on stirrup and rein,<br />The steady -poise and the careful strain,<br /> In speeding along -Life’s track.</p> -<p>A watchful eye and a strong, true hand<br />Will carry us under the -Judge’s stand,<br /> If prayer, too, does its -part;<br />And little by little the struggling soul<br />Will grow and -strengthen and gain control<br /> Over the passionate -heart.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>AN ODE TO TIME</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Ho! sportsman Time, whose chargers fleet<br /> The -moments, madly driven,<br />Beat in the dust beneath their feet<br /> Sweet -hopes that years have given;<br />Turn, turn aside those reckless steeds,<br /> Oh! -do not urge them my way;<br />There’s nothing that Time wants -or needs<br /> In this contented by-way.</p> -<p>You have down-trodden, in your race,<br /> So much -that proves your power,<br />Why not avoid my humble place?<br /> Why -rob me of my dower?<br />With your vast cellars, cavern deep,<br /> Packed -tier on tier with treasures,<br />You would not miss them should I <i>keep<br /></i> My -little store of pleasures.</p> -<p>As one who, frightened, flying, flings<br /> Her -riches down at random,<br />Your course is paved with precious things<br /> Life -casts before your tandem:<br />The warrior’s fame, the conqueror’s -crown,<br /> Great creeds for ages cherished,<br />Beneath -your chariot-wheels were thrown,<br /> And, crushed -to earth, they perished.</p> -<p>Although to just and generous deeds<br /> Your heart -is not a stranger,<br />I have the feeling that one needs<br /> To -guard his wealth from danger.<br />And though a most heroic light<br /> Oft -on your pathway lingers,<br />I’d hide my treasures, if I might,<br /> From -contact with your fingers.</p> -<p>You are the loyal friend of Truth,<br /> Go seek -her, make her stronger,<br />And leave the remnant of my youth<br /> To -me a little longer.<br />There’s work enough for you before<br /> Eternity -shall wed you:<br />Why stoop to steal my simple store?<br /> Why -make me shun and dread you?</p> -<p>You do not need my joys, I say,<br /> Home, love, -and friends united -<br />I beg you turn and go the way<br /> Where -wrong waits to be righted;<br />Or pause, and let us chat a while:<br /> I’ll -listen - not too near you,<br />For oh! no matter how you smile,<br /> I -fear you, Time, I fear you!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>REGRET AND REMORSE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Regret with streaming eyes doth seem alway<br />A maiden widowed -on her wedding day.</p> -<p>While dark Remorse, with eyes too sad for tears,<br />A crushed, -desponding Magdalene appears.</p> -<p>One, with a hungering heart unsatisfied,<br />Mourns for imagined -joys that were denied.</p> -<p>The other, pierced by recollected sin,<br />Broods o’er the -scars of pleasures that have been.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>EASTER MORN</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>A truth that has long lain buried<br /> At Superstition’s -door,<br />I see, in the dawn uprising<br /> In all -its strength once more.</p> -<p>Hidden away in the darkness,<br /> By Ignorance -crucified,<br />Crushed under stones of dogmas -<br /> Yet -lo! it has not died.</p> -<p>It stands in the light transfigured,<br /> It speaks -from the heights above,<br />“<i>Each soul is its own redeemer</i>;<br /><i> There -is no law but Love</i>.”</p> -<p>And the spirits of men are gladdened<br /> As they -welcome this Truth re-born<br />With its feet on the grave of Error<br /> And -its eyes to the Easter Morn.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>BLIND</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Whatever a man may think or feel<br /> He can tell -to the world and it hears aright;<br />But it bids the woman conceal, -conceal,<br /> And woe to the thoughts that at last -ignite.<br />She may serve up gossip or dwell on fashion,<br /> Or -play the critic with speech unkind,<br />But alas for the woman who -speaks with passion!<br /> For the world is blind - -for the world is blind.</p> -<p>It is woman who sits with her starved desire,<br /> And -drinks to sorrow in cups of tears;<br />She reads by the light of her -soul on fire<br /> The secrets of love through lonely -years:<br />But out of all she has felt or heard<br /> Or -read by the glow of her soul’s white flame,<br />If she dare but -utter aloud one word -<br /> How the world cries shame! -- how the world cries shame!</p> -<p>It cannot distinguish between the glow<br /> Of -a gleaming star, in the sky of gold,<br />Or a spent cigar in the dust -below -<br /> ’Twixt unclad Eve or a wanton bold;<br />And -ever if woman speaks what she feels<br /> (And feels -consistent with God’s great plan)<br />It has cast her under its -juggernaut wheels,<br /> Since the world began - since -the world began.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE YELLOW-COVERED ALMANAC</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I left the farm when mother died and changed my place of dwelling<br /> To -daughter Susie’s stylish house right on the city street:<br />And -there was them before I came that sort of scared me, telling<br /> How -I would find the town folks’ ways so difficult to meet;<br />They -said I’d have no comfort in the rustling, fixed-up throng,<br /> And -I’d have to wear stiff collars every week-day, right along.</p> -<p>I find I take to city ways just like a duck to water;<br /> I -like the racket and the noise and never tire of shows;<br />And there’s -no end of comfort in the mansion of my daughter,<br /> And -everything is right at hand and money freely flows;<br />And hired help -is all about, just listenin’ to my call -<br /> But -I miss the yellow almanac off my old kitchen wall.</p> -<p>The house is full of calendars from attic to the cellar,<br /> They’re -painted in all colours and are fancy like to see,<br />But in this one -particular I’m not a modern feller,<br /> And -the yellow-coloured almanac is good enough for me.<br />I’m used -to it, I’ve seen it round from boyhood to old age,<br /> And -I rather like the jokin’ at the bottom of the cage.</p> -<p>I like the way its “S” stood out to show the week’s -beginning,<br /> (In these new-fangled calendars the -days seem sort of mixed),<br />And the man upon the cover, though he -wa’n’t exactly winnin’,<br /> With -lungs and liver all exposed, still showed how we are fixed;<br />And -the letters and credentials that was writ to Mr. Ayer<br /> I’ve -often on a rainy day found readin’ pretty fair.</p> -<p>I tried to buy one recently; there wa’n’t none in the -city!<br /> They toted out great calendars, in every -shape and style.<br />I looked at ’em in cold disdain, and answered -’em in pity -<br /> “I’d rather have -my almanac than all that costly pile.”<br />And though I take -to city life, I’m lonesome after all<br /> For -that old yellow almanac upon my kitchen wall.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE LITTLE WHITE HEARSE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Somebody’s baby was buried to-day -<br /> The -empty white hearse from the grave rumbled back,<br />And the morning -somehow seemed less smiling and gay<br />As I paused on the walk while -it crossed on its way,<br /> And a shadow seemed drawn -o’er the sun’s golden tract.</p> -<p>Somebody’s baby was laid out to rest,<br /> White -as a snowdrop, and fair to behold,<br />And the soft little hands were -crossed over the breast,<br />And those hands and the lips and the eyelids -were pressed<br /> With kisses as hot as the eyelids -were cold.</p> -<p>Somebody saw it go out of her sight,<br /> Under -the coffin lid - out through the door;<br />Somebody finds only darkness -and blight<br />All through the glory of summer-sun light;<br /> Somebody’s -baby will waken no more.</p> -<p>Somebody’s sorrow is making me weep:<br /> I -know not her name, hut I echo her cry,<br />For the dearly bought baby -she longed so to keep,<br />The baby that rode to its long-lasting sleep<br /> In -the little white hearse that went rumbling by.</p> -<p>I know not her name, but her sorrow I know;<br /> While -I paused on the crossing I lived it once more,<br />And back to my heart -surged that river of woe<br />That but in the breast of a mother can -flow;<br /> For the little white hearse has been, too, -at <i>my</i> door.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>REALISATION<br />(At the Old Homestead)</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I tread the paths of earlier times<br />Where all my steps were set -to rhymes.</p> -<p>I gaze on scenes I used to see<br />When dreaming of a vague To be.</p> -<p>I walk in ways made bright of old<br />By hopes youth-limned in hues -of gold.</p> -<p>But lo! those hopes of future bliss<br />Seem dull beside the joy -that <i>is.</i></p> -<p>My noonday skies are far more bright<br />Than those dreamed of in -morning’s light,</p> -<p>And life gives me more joys to hold<br />Than all it promised me -of old.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SUCCESS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>As we gaze up life’s slope, as we gaze<br /> In -the morn, ere the dewdrops are dry,<br />What splendour hangs over the -ways,<br /> What glory gleams there in the sky,<br /> What -pleasures seem waiting us, high<br />On the peak of that beauteous slope,<br />What -rainbow-hued colours of hope,<br /> As -we gaze!</p> -<p>As we climb up the hill, as we climb,<br /> Our -hearts, our illusions, are rent:<br />For Fate, who is spouse of old -Time,<br /> Is jealous of youth and content.<br /> With -brows that are brooding and bent<br />She shadows our sunlight of gold,<br />And -the way grows lonely and cold<br /> As -we climb.</p> -<p>As we toil on, through trouble and pain,<br /> There -are hands that will shelter and feed;<br />But once let us dare to <i>attain --<br /></i> They will bruise our bare hearts till they -bleed.<br /> ’Tis the worst of all crimes to -succeed,<br />Know this as ye feast on a crust,<br />Know this in the -darkness and dust,<br /> Ye who climb.</p> -<p>As we stand on the heights of success,<br /> Lo! -success seems as sad as defeat!<br />Through the lives we may succour -and bless<br /> Alone may its litter turn sweet!<br /> And -the world lying there at our feet,<br />With its cavilling praise and -its sneer,<br />We must pity, condone, but not hear,<br /> Where -we stand.</p> -<p>As we live on those heights, we must live<br /> With -the courage and pride of a god;<br />For the world, it has nothing to -give<br /> But the scourge of the lash and the rod.<br /> Our -thoughts must be noble and broad,<br />Our purpose must challenge men’s -gaze,<br />While we seek not their blame or their praise<br /> As -we live.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE LADY AND THE DAME</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>So, thou hast the art, good dame, thou swearest,<br /> To -keep Time’s perishing touch at bay<br />From the roseate splendour -of the cheek so tender,<br /> And the silver threads -from the gold away.<br />And the tell-tale years that have hurried by -us<br /> Shall tip-toe back, and, with kind good-will,<br />They -shall take the traces from off our faces,<br /> If -we will trust to thy magic skill.</p> -<p>Thou speakest fairly; but if I listen<br /> And -buy thy secret, and prove its truth,<br />Hast thou the potion and magic -lotion<br /> To give me also the <i>heart</i> of youth?<br />With -the cheek of rose and the eye of beauty,<br /> And -the lustrous looks of life’s lost prime,<br />Wilt thou bring -thronging each hope and longing<br /> That made the -glory of that dead Time?</p> -<p>When the sap in the trees sets young buds bursting,<br /> And -the song of the birds fills the air like spray,<br />Will rivers of -feeling come once more stealing<br /> From the beautiful -hills of the far-away?<br />Wilt thou demolish the tower of reason,<br /> And -fling for ever down into the dust<br />The caution time brought me, -the lessons life taught me,<br /> And put in their -places my old sweet trust?</p> -<p>If Time’s foot-print from my brow is driven,<br /> Canst -thou, too, take with thy subtle powers<br />The burden of thinking, -and let me go drinking<br /> The careless pleasures -of youth’s bright hours?<br />If silver threads from my tresses -vanish,<br /> If a glow once more in my pale cheek -gleams,<br />Wilt thou slay duty and give back the beauty<br /> Of -days untroubled by aught but dreams?</p> -<p>When the soft fair arms of the siren Summer<br /> Encircle -the earth in their languorous fold,<br />Will vast, deep oceans of sweet -emotions<br /> Surge through my veins as they surged -of old?<br />Canst thou bring back from a day long-vanished<br /> The -leaping pulse and the boundless aim?<br />I will pay thee double, for -all thy trouble,<br /> If thou wilt restore all these, -good dame.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>HEAVEN AND HELL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>While forced to dwell apart from thy dear face,<br /> Love, -robed like sorrow, led me by the hand<br /> And taught -my doubting heart to understand<br />That which has puzzled all the -human race.<br />Full many a sage has questioned where in space<br /> Those -counter worlds were? where the mystic strand<br /> That -separates them? I have found each land,<br />And Hell is vast, -and Heaven a narrow space.</p> -<p>In the small compass of thy clasping arms,<br /> In -reach and sight of thy dear lips and eyes,<br /> There, -there for me the joy of Heaven lies.<br />Outside, lo! chaos, terrors’ -wild alarms,<br />And all the desolation fierce and fell<br />Of void -and aching nothingness, makes Hell.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LOVE’S SUPREMACY</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>As yon great Sun in his supreme condition<br /> Absorbs -small worlds and makes them all his own,<br />So does my love absorb -each vain ambition,<br /> Each outside purpose which -my life has known.<br />Stars cannot shine so near that vast orb’d -splendour;<br /> They are content to feed his flames -of fire:<br />And so my heart is satisfied to render<br /> Its -strength, its all, to meet thy strong desire.</p> -<p>As in a forest when dead leaves are falling<br /> From -all save some perennial green tree,<br />So one by one I find all pleasures -palling<br /> That are not linked with or enjoyed by -thee.<br />And all the homage that the world may proffer,<br /> I -take as perfumed oils or incense sweet,<br />And think of it as one -thing more to offer,<br /> And sacrifice to Love, at -thy dear feet.</p> -<p>I love myself because thou art my lover,<br /> My -name seems dear since uttered by thy voice;<br />Yet, argus-eyed, I -watch and would discover<br /> Each blemish in the -object of thy choice.<br />I coldly sit in judgment on each error,<br /> To -my soul’s gaze I hold each fault of me,<br />Until my pride is -lost in abject terror,<br /> Lest I become inadequate -to thee.</p> -<p>Like some swift-rushing and sea-seeking river,<br /> Which -gathers force the farther on it goes,<br />So does the current of my -love forever<br /> Find added strength and beauty as -it flows.<br />The more I give, the more remains for giving,<br /> The -more receive, the more remains to win.<br />Ah! only in eternities of -living<br /> Will life be long enough to love thee -in.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE ETERNAL WILL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>There is no thing we cannot overcome<br /> Say not -thy evil instinct is inherited,<br />Or that some trait inborn makes -thy whole life forlorn,<br /> And calls down punishment -that is not merited.</p> -<p>Back of thy parents and grandparents lies<br /> The -Great Eternal Will. That, too, is thine<br /> Inheritance; -strong, beautiful, divine,<br />Sure lever of success for one who tries.</p> -<p>Pry up thy faults with this great lever, Will.<br /> However -deeply bedded in propensity,<br />However firmly set, I tell thee firmer -yet<br /> Is that vast power that comes from Truth’s -immensity.</p> -<p>Thou art a part of that strange world, I say.<br /> Its -forces lie within thee, stronger far<br /> Than all -thy mortal sins and frailties are,<br />Believe thyself divine, and -watch, and pray.</p> -<p>There is no noble height thou canst not climb.<br /> All -triumphs may be thine in Time’s futurity,<br />If whatso’er -thy fault, thou dost not faint or halt,<br /> But lean -upon the staff of God’s security.</p> -<p>Earth has no claim the soul can not contest.<br /> Know -thyself part of that Eternal Source,<br /> And naught -can stand before thy spirit’s force.<br />The soul’s divine -inheritance is best.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>INSIGHT</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>On the river of life, as I float along,<br /> I -see with the spirit’s sight<br />That many a nauseous weed of -wrong<br /> Has root in a seed of right.<br />For evil -is good that has gone astray,<br /> And sorrow is only -blindness,<br />And the world is always under the sway<br /> Of -a changeless law of kindness.</p> -<p>The commonest error a truth can make<br /> Is shouting -its sweet voice hoarse,<br />And sin is only the soul’s mistake<br /> In -misdirecting its force.<br />And love, the fairest of all fair things<br /> That -ever to man descended,<br />Grows rank with nettles and poisonous things<br /> Unless -it is watched and tended.</p> -<p>There could not be anything better than this<br /> Old -world in the way it began;<br />And though some matters have gone amiss<br /> From -the great original plan,<br />And however dark the skies may appear,<br /> And -however souls may blunder,<br />I tell you it all will work out clear,<br /> For -good lies over and under.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A WOMAN’S LOVE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>So vast the tide of love within me surging,<br /> It -overflows like some stupendous sea,<br /> The confines -of the Present and To-be;<br />And ’gainst the Past’s high -wall I feel it urging,<br /> As it would cry, “Thou, -too, shalt yield to me!”</p> -<p>All other loves my supreme love embodies;<br /> I -would be she on whose soft bosom nursed<br /> Thy clinging -infant lips to quench their thirst;<br />She who trod close to hidden -worlds where God is,<br /> That she might have, and -hold, and see thee first.</p> -<p>I would be she who stirred the vague, fond fancies<br /> Of -thy still childish heart; who through bright days<br /> Went -sporting with thee in the old-time plays,<br />And caught the sunlight -of thy boyish glances<br /> In half-forgotten and long-buried -Mays.</p> -<p>Forth to the end, and back to the beginning,<br /> My -love would send its inundating tide,<br /> Wherein -all landmarks of thy past should hide.<br />If thy life’s lesson -<i>must</i> be learned through sinning,<br /> My grieving -virtue would become thy guide.</p> -<p>For I would share the burden of thy errors,<br /> So -when the sun of our brief life had set,<br /> If thou -didst walk in darkness and regret,<br />E’en in that shadowy world -of nameless terrors,<br /> My soul and thine should -be companions yet.</p> -<p>And I would cross with thee those troubled oceans<br /> Of -dark remorse whose waters are despair:<br /> All things -my jealous, reckless love would dare,<br />So that thou mightst not -recollect emotions<br /> In which it did not have a -part and share.</p> -<p>There is no limit to my love’s full measure,<br /> It’s -spirit-gold is shaped by earth’s alloy;<br /> I -would be friend and mother, mate and toy,<br />I’d have thee look -to me for every pleasure,<br /> And in me find all -memories of joy.</p> -<p>Yet though I love thee in such selfish fashion,<br /> I -would wait on thee, sitting at thy feet,<br /> And -serving thee, if thou didst deem it meet.<br />And couldst thou give -me one fond hour of passion,<br /> I’d take that -hour and call my life complete.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE PÆAN OF PEACE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>With ever some wrong to be righting,<br /> With -self ever seeking for place,<br />The world has been striving and fighting<br /> Since -man was evolved out of space.<br />Bold history into dark regions<br /> His -torchlight has fearlessly cast,<br />He shows us tribes warring in legions,<br /> In -jungles of ages long passed.</p> -<p>Religion, forgetting her station,<br /> Forgetting -her birthright from God,<br />Set nation to warring with nation<br /> And -scattered dissension abroad.<br />Dear creeds have made men kill each -other,<br /> Fair faith has bred hate and despair,<br />And -brother has battled with brother<br /> Because of a -difference in prayer.</p> -<p>But earth has grown wiser and kinder,<br /> For -man is evolving a soul:<br />From wars of an age that was blinder,<br /> We -rise to a peace-girdled goal.<br />Where once men would murder in treason<br /> And -slaughter each other in hordes,<br />They now meet together and reason,<br /> With -thoughts for their weapons, not swords.</p> -<p>The brute in humanity dwindles<br /> And lessens -as time speeds along,<br />And the spark of Divinity kindles<br /> And -blazes up brightly and strong.<br />The seer can behold in the distance<br /> The -race that shall people the world -<br />Strong men of a godlike existence<br /> Unarmed, -and with war banners furled.</p> -<p>No longer the bloodthirsty savage<br /> Man’s -vast spirit strength shall unfold;<br />And tales of red warfare and -ravage<br /> Shall seem like ghost stories of old.<br />For -the booming of guns and the rattle<br /> Of carnage -and conflict shall cease,<br />And the bugle-call, leading to battle,<br /> Shall -change to a pæan of peace.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>“HAS BEEN”</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>That melancholy phrase “It might have been,”<br /> However -sad, doth in its heart enfold<br /> A hidden germ of -promise! for I hold<br /><i>Whatever might have been shall be.<br /></i> Though -in<br />Some other realm and life, the soul must win<br /> The -goal that erst was possible. But cold<br /> And -cruel as the sound of frozen mould<br />Dropped on a coffin, are the -words “Has been.”</p> -<p>“She has been beautiful” - “he has been great,”<br /> “Rome -has been powerful,” we sigh and say.<br /> It -is the pitying crust we toss decay,<br />The dirge we breathe o’er -some degenerate state,<br />An epitaph for fame’s unburied dead.<br />God -pity those who live to hear it said!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>DUTY’S PATH</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Out from the harbour of youth’s bay<br /> There -leads the path of pleasure;<br />With eager steps we walk that way<br /> To -brim joy’s largest measure.<br />But when with morn’s departing -beam<br /> Goes youth’s last precious minute,<br />We -sigh “’Twas but a fevered dream -<br /> There’s -nothing in it.”</p> -<p>Then on our vision dawns afar<br /> The goal of -glory, gleaming<br />Like some great radiant solar star,<br /> And -sets us longing, dreaming.<br />Forgetting all things left behind,<br /> We -strain each nerve to win it,<br />But when ’tis ours - alas! we -find<br /> There’s nothing in it.</p> -<p>We turn our sad, reluctant gaze<br /> Upon the path -of duty;<br />Its barren, uninviting ways<br /> Are -void of bloom and beauty.<br />Yet in that road, though dark and cold,<br /> It -seems as we begin it,<br />As we press on - lo! we behold<br /> There’s -Heaven in it.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>MARCH</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Like some reformer, who with mien austere,<br /> Neglected -dress, and loud insistent tones,<br /> More rasping -than the wrongs which she bemoans,<br />Walks through the land and wearies -all who hear,<br /> While yet we know the need of such -reform;<br /> So comes unlovely March, with wind and -storm,<br />To break the spell of winter, and set free<br /> The -poisoned brooks and crocus beds oppressed.<br /> Severe -of face, gaunt-armed, and wildly dressed,<br />She is not fair nor beautiful -to see.<br /> But merry April and sweet smiling May<br /> Come -not till March has first prepared the way.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE END OF THE SUMMER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The birds laugh loud and long together<br /> When -Fashion’s followers speed away<br />At the first cool breath of -autumn weather.<br /> Why, this is the time, cry the -birds, to stay!<br />When the deep calm sea and the deep sky over<br /> Both -look their passion through sun-kissed space,<br />As a blue-eyed maid -and her blue-eyed lover<br /> Might each gaze into -the other’s face.</p> -<p>Oh! this is the time when careful spying<br /> Discovers -the secrets Nature knows.<br />You find when the butterflies plan for -flying<br /> (Before the thrush or the blackbird goes),<br />You -see some day by the water’s edges<br /> A brilliant -border of red and black;<br />And then off over the hills and hedges<br /> It -flutters away on the summer’s track.</p> -<p>The shy little sumacs, in lonely places,<br /> Bowed -all summer with dust and heat,<br />Like clean-clad children with rain-washed -faces,<br /> Are dressed in scarlet from head to feet.<br />And -never a flower had the boastful summer,<br /> In all -the blossoms that decked her sod,<br />So royal hued as that later comer<br /> The -purple chum of the goldenrod.</p> -<p>Some chill grey dawn you note with grieving<br /> That -the King of Autumn is on his way.<br />You see, with a sorrowful, slow -believing,<br /> How the wanton woods have gone astray.<br />They -wear the stain of bold caresses,<br /> Of riotous revels -with old King Frost;<br />They dazzle all eyes with their gorgeous dresses,<br /> Nor -care that their green young leaves are lost.</p> -<p>A wet wind blows from the East one morning,<br /> The -wood’s gay garments looked draggled out.<br />You hear a sound, -and your heart takes warning -<br /> The birds are -planning their winter route.<br />They wheel and settle and scold and -wrangle,<br /> Their tempers are ruffled, their voices -loud;<br />Then <i>whirr</i> - and away in a feathered tangle,<br /> To -fade in the south like a passing cloud.</p> -<p><i>Envoi</i></p> -<p>A songless wood stripped bare of glory -<br /> A -sodden moor that is black and brown;<br />The year has finished its -last love-story:<br /> Oh! let us away to the gay bright -town.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SUN SHADOWS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>There never was success so nobly gained,<br /> Or -victory so free from selfish dross,<br />But in the winning some one -had been pained<br /> Or some one suffered loss.</p> -<p>There never was so nobly planned a fête,<br /> Or -festal throng with hearts on pleasure bent,<br />But some neglected -one outside the gate<br /> Wept tears of discontent.</p> -<p>There never was a bridal morning fair<br /> With -hope’s blue skies and love’s unclouded sun<br />For two -fond hearts, that did not bring despair<br /> To some -sad other one.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>“HE THAT LOOKETH”</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Yea, she and I have broken God’s command,<br /> And -in His sight are branded with our shame.<br /> And -yet I do not even know her name,<br />Nor ever in my life have touched -her hand<br />Or brushed her garments. But I chanced to stand<br /> Beside -her in the throng! A sweet, swift flame<br /> Shot -from her flesh to mine - and hers the blame<br />Of willing looks that -fed it; aye, that fanned<br />The glow within me to a hungry fire.<br /> There -was an invitation in her eyes.<br /> Had she met mine -with coldness or surprise,<br />I had not plunged on headlong in the -mire<br />Of amorous thought. The flame leaped high and higher;<br /> Her -breath and mine pulsated into sighs,<br /> And soft -glance melted into glance kiss-wise,<br />And in God’s sight both -yielded to desire.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>AN ERRING WOMAN’S LOVE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>PART I</p> -<p>She was a light and wanton maid:<br />Not one whom fickle Love betrayed,<br />For -indolence was her undoer.<br />Fair, frivolous, and very poor,<br />She -scorned the thought of toil, in youth,<br />And chose the path that -leads from truth.</p> -<p>More women fall from want of gold<br />Than love leads wrong, if -truth were told;<br />More women sin for gay attire<br />Than sin through -passion’s blinding fire.<br />Her god was gold: and gold she saw<br />Prove -mightier than the sternest law<br />With judge and jury, priest and -king;<br />So, made herself an offering<br />At Mammon’s shrine; -and lived for power,<br />And ease, and pleasures of the hour.</p> -<p>Who looks beneath life’s outer crust<br />Is satisfied that -God is just;<br />Who looks not under, but about,<br />Finds much to -make him sad with doubt.<br />For Virtue walks with feet worn bare,<br />While -Sin rides by with coach and pair:<br />Men praise the modest heart and -chaste,<br />And yet they let it go to waste,<br />And follow, fierce -to have and hold,<br />Some creature, wanton, selfish, bold.</p> -<p>She saw but this, life’s outer side,<br />No higher faith was -hers to guide;<br />She worshipped gold, and hated toil,<br />And hence -her youth with all its soil,<br />With all its sins too dark to name,<br />Of -secret crimes and public shame,<br />With all its trail of broken lives,<br />Of -ruined homes, neglected wives,<br />And weeping mothers. Proud -and gay<br />She went her devastating way<br />With untouched brow and -fadeless grace.</p> -<p>Not time, but feeling, marks the face.<br />Sin on the outer being -tells<br />Not till the startled soul rebels:<br />And she felt nothing -but content.<br />She was too light and indolent<br />To worry over -days to come.<br />This little earth held all life’s sum,<br />She -thought, and to be young and fair,<br />Well clothed, well fed, was -all her care.<br />With pitying eyes and lifted head<br />She gazed -on those who toiled for bread,<br />And laughed to scorn the talk she -heard<br />Of punishment for those who erred,<br />And virtue’s -certain recompense.<br />She seemed devoid of moral sense,<br />An ignorant -thing whose appetites<br />Bound her horizon of delights.</p> -<p>Men were her puppets to control;<br />Unconscious of a heart or soul<br />She -lived, and gloried in the ease<br />She purchased by her power to please<br />The -eye and senses. Life’s one woe<br />Which caused her pitying -tears to flow<br />Was poverty. Though hearts might break<br />And -homes be ruined for her sake,<br />She showed no mercy. But when -need<br />Of gold she saw, her heart would bleed.<br />The lack of clothing, -fire, and food<br />Was earth’s one pain, she understood.</p> -<p>The suffering poor oft blest her name,<br />Nor questioned whence -the ducats came,<br />She gave so freely. Once she found<br />A -fainting woman on the ground,<br />A wailing child clasped to her breast.<br />With -her own hands she bathed and dressed<br />The weary waifs! gave food -and gold<br />And clothed them warmly from the cold,<br />Nor guessed -that one she lured from home<br />Had caused that suffering pair to -roam<br />Unhoused, neglected. Then one day,<br />Unheralded across -her way,<br />The conqueror came. She knew not why,<br />But with -the first glance of his eye<br />A feeling, new and unexplained,<br />Woke -in her what she oft had feigned.<br />And when his arm stole near her -waist,<br />As startled maidens blush with chaste<br />Sweet fear at -love’s advances, so<br />She blushed from brow to breast of snow.<br />Strange, -new emotions, fraught with joy<br />And pain commingled, made her coy;<br />But -when he would have clasped her neck<br />With gems that might a queen -bedeck<br />And offered gold, her lips grew white<br />With sudden anger -at the sight<br />Of what had been her god for years.<br />She flung -them from her. Then such tears<br />As only spring from love’s -despair<br />Welled from her eyes. “So, lady fair,<br />My -gifts are scorned?” quoth he, and laughed.<br />“Like Cleopatra, -you have quaffed<br />Such lordly pearls in draughts of wine,<br />You -spurn poor simple gems like mine.<br />Well, well, fair queen, I’ll -bring to you<br />A richer gift next time. Adieu.”</p> -<p>His light words stung like lash of whip;<br />With gasping breath -and ashen lip<br />She strove to speak, but he was gone<br />She kneeled -and pressed her mouth upon<br />The latch his hand had touched, the -floor<br />His foot had trod, and o’er and o’er<br />She -sobbed his name, as children moan<br />A mother’s name when left -alone.</p> -<p>Out from the dim and roseate gloom<br />And subtle odours of her -room<br />Accusing memories rose. She felt<br />A loneliness that -seemed to belt<br />The universe in its embrace.<br />It was as if from -some high place<br />A giant hand had reached and hurled<br />To nothingness -her petty world,<br />And left her staring, awed, alone,<br />Up into -regions vast, unknown.<br />There is no other loneliness<br />That can -so sadden and oppress<br />As when beside the burned-out fire<br />Of -sated passion and desire<br />The wakening spirit, in a glance,<br />Beholds -its lost inheritance.<br />She rose and turned the dim lights higher,<br />Brought -forth rich gems and grand attire,<br />And robed herself in feverish -haste;<br />Before the mirror posed and paced,<br />With jewels on her -breast and wrists;<br />Then sudden clenched her little fists<br />And -beat her face until it bled,<br />And tore her garments shred from shred,<br />Gazed -in the mirror, spoke her name<br />And hissed a word that told her shame,<br />Then -on her knees fell sobbing there.</p> -<p>There are sweet messengers of prayer<br />Who down through space -on soft wings steal,<br />And offer aid to all who kneel.<br />Her lips, -unused to pious phrase,<br />Recalled some words of bygone days,<br />And -“Now I lay me down to sleep,<br />I pray the Lord my soul to keep,”<br />She -whispered timidly, and then,<br />“Lord, let me be a child again<br />And -grow up good.” The strange prayer said,<br />Like some o’er-weary -child, her head<br />She pillowed on her arm, and wept<br />Low, shuddering -sobs, until she slept<br />And dreamed; and in that dream she thought<br />She -sat within a vine-wreathed cot;<br />An infant slumbered on her breast,<br />She -crooned a lullaby, and pressed<br />Its waxen hand against her cheek,<br />While -one, too proud and fond to speak,<br />The happy father of the child,<br />Stood -near, and gazing on them, smiled.</p> -<p>She woke while still the lullaby<br />Was on her lips - then such -a cry,<br />As souls in fabled realms below<br />Might utter, voiced -her awful woe.</p> -<p>The mighty moral labour-pain<br />Of new-born conscience wracked -her brain<br />And tore her soul. She understood<br />The meaning -now of womanhood,<br />And chastity, and o’er her came<br />The -full, dark sense of all her shame.<br />As some poor drunken wretch, -at night,<br />Wakes up to know his piteous plight,<br />And sees, while -sinking in the mire,<br />Afar, his waiting hearth-light’s fire;<br />So -now she saw from depths of sin<br />The hearth-light of the might-have-been.<br />How -beautiful, how like a star<br />That lost light shone, but ah, how far!</p> -<p>She reached her longing arms toward space,<br />And lifted up her -tear-wet face.<br />“O God,” she wailed, “I have been -bad!<br />I see it all, and I am sad,<br />And long to be a good girl -now.<br />Lord, Lord, will some one show me how?<br />Why, men have -trod the burning track<br />Of sin for years, and then gone back!<br />And -cannot I for sin atone,<br />Or did Christ die for men alone?<br />I -want to lead an honest life,<br />I want to be his own true wife<br />And -hold upon my breast his child.”<br />Then suddenly her voice grew -wild,<br />“No, no,” she cried, “it could not be -<br />Those -infant eyes would torture me:<br />Though God condoned my sinful ways,<br />I -could not meet my child’s pure gaze.”</p> -<p>She hid her face upon her knees,<br />And swayed as reeds sway in -a breeze.<br />“O Christ,” she moaned, “could I forget,<br />There -might be something for me yet:<br />But though both God and man forgave,<br />And -I should win the love I crave,<br />Why, memory would drive me mad.”</p> -<p>When woman drifts from good to bad,<br />To make her final fall complete,<br />She -puts her soul beneath her feet.<br />Man’s dual selves seem separate;<br />He -leaves his soul outside sin’s gate,<br />And finds it waiting -when he tires<br />Of carnal pleasures and desires,<br />Depleted, sickened, -and depressed,<br />As souls must be with such a test,<br />Yet strong -enough to help him grope<br />Back into happiness and hope.<br />But -woman, far more complicate,<br />Can take no chances with her fate;<br />A -subtle creature, finely spun,<br />Her body and her soul are one.<br />And -now this erring woman wept<br />The soul she murdered while it slept.<br />She -felt too stunned with pain to think.<br />She seemed to stand upon a -brink;<br />Behind her loomed the sinful past,<br />Below her, rocks, -beyond her, vast<br />And awful darkness. Not one ray<br />Of -sun or star to show the way!<br />She drew a long and shuddering breath;<br />“There -is no other path but death<br />For me to tread,” she sighed, -“and so<br />I will prepare my house and go.”</p> -<p>As housewives move with willing feet<br />And skilful hands to make -things neat<br />And ready for some welcome one,<br />She toiled until -her tasks were done.<br />Then, seated at her desk, she wrote,<br />With -painful care, a tear-wet note.<br />The childish penmanship was rude,<br />Ill -spelled the words, the phrasing crude;<br />Yet thought and feeling -both were there,<br />And mighty love and great despair.<br />“Dear -heart,” it ran, “you did not know<br />How, from the first, -I loved you so,<br />That sin grew hateful in my sight;<br />And so -I leave it all to-night.<br />The kiss I gave, dear heart, to you<br />Was -love’s first kiss, as pure and true<br />As ever lips of maiden -gave.<br />I think ’twill warm my lonely grave,<br />And light -the pathway I must tread<br />Among the hapless, homeless dead.</p> -<p>“When God formed worlds, He failed to make<br />A path for -erring feet to take<br />Back into light and peace again,<br />Unless -they were the feet of men.<br />When woman errs, and then regrets,<br />Her -sun of hope for ever sets,<br />And life is hung with deepest gloom.<br />In -all the world there is no room<br />For such as she; and so I hold<br />That -death itself is not so cold<br />As life has seemed, since by love’s -light<br />I saw there was a wrong and right,<br />And that my birthright -had been sold,<br />By my own hands, for tarnished gold.<br />I hated -labour, hence I fell;<br />But now I love you, dear, so well,<br />No -greater boon my soul could crave<br />Than just to toil, a galley-slave,<br />Through -burdened years and years of life,<br />If at the last you called me -wife<br />For one supreme and honoured hour.<br />Alas! too late I learn -love’s power,<br />Too late I realise my loss,<br />And have no -strength to bear my cross<br />Of loneliness and dark disgrace.<br />There -cannot be another place<br />So desolate, so full of fear,<br />As earth -to me, without you, dear.</p> -<p>“You will not understand, I know,<br />How one like me can -love you so.<br />It was a strange, strange thing. Love came<br />So -like a swift, devouring flame<br />And burned my frail, fair-weather -boat<br />And left me on the waves afloat,<br />With nothing but a broken -spar.<br />The distant shores seem very far;<br />I cannot reach them, -so I sink.<br />God will forgive my sins, I think,<br />Because I die -for love, like One<br />The good Book tells about, His Son.</p> -<p>“For erring woman death can bring<br />No pain so keen as memory’s -sting.<br />Good-night, good-bye. God bless you, dear,<br />And -give you love, and joy, and cheer!<br />But sometimes, in the dark night, -say<br />A prayer for one who went astray,<br />And found no pathway -back, and died<br />For love of you - a suicide.”</p> -<p>When morn his glorious pinions spread,<br />They found the erring -woman, dead.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> -<p>PART II</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> -<p>She woke as one wakes from a deep<br />And dreamless, yet exhausting, -sleep.</p> -<p>A strange confusion filled her mind,<br />And sorrows vague and undefined,</p> -<p>Like half-remembered faces pressed<br />To memory’s window, -in her breast,</p> -<p>Gazed at her with reproachful eyes.<br />She felt a sudden, dazed -surprise,</p> -<p>Commingled with a sense of dread,<br />“I did but sleep - I -am not dead,</p> -<p>“The potion and the purpose failed,<br />And I still live,” -she wildly wailed.</p> -<p>“Nay, thou art dead, rash suicide,”<br />A sad voice -spake: and at her side</p> -<p>She saw a weird and shadowy crowd<br />With anguished lips, and shoulders -bowed,</p> -<p>And orbs that seemed the wells of woe.<br />She shrieked and veiled -her eyes. “No, no!</p> -<p>“I am not dead! I ache with life.<br />An earthly passion’s -hopeless strife</p> -<p>“Still tortures me.” “Yet thou art dead,”<br />The -voice with sad insistence said.</p> -<p>“But love and sorrow and regret<br />All die with death. -<i>I</i> feel them yet.”</p> -<p>“God bade thee live, and only He<br />Can say when thou shalt -cease to be.”</p> -<p>“But I was sin-sick, sad, alone -<br />I thought by death I -could atone,</p> -<p>“And died that Christ might show me how.”<br />“Christ -bore His burden, why not thou?”</p> -<p>“Oh! lead me to His holy feet<br />And let my penance be complete.”</p> -<p>“What! thinkest thou to find that path -<br />Thou who hast -tempted Heaven’s wrath</p> -<p>“By thy rash deed? Nay, nay, not so,<br />’Tis -but perfected spirits go</p> -<p>“To that supreme and final goal.<br />A self-sought death delays -the soul.</p> -<p>“With yonder shuddering, woeful throng<br />Of suicides thy -ways belong.</p> -<p>“Close to the earth a shadowy band,<br />Unseen, but seeing -all, they stand</p> -<p>“Until their natural time to die,<br />As God intended, shall -draw nigh.</p> -<p>“On earth, repentant, sick of sin,<br />A ministering angel -thou hadst been</p> -<p>“Whose patient toil and deeds divine<br />Had rescued souls -as sad as thine,</p> -<p>“Each deed a firm ascending stair<br />To lead beyond thy great -despair.</p> -<p>“But now it is thy mournful fate<br />To linger here and meditate</p> -<p>“On thy dark past - to stand so near<br />The earthly plane -that thou canst hear</p> -<p>“Thy lover’s voice, while old desire<br />Shall burn -within thee like a fire,</p> -<p>“And grief shall root thee to the spot<br />To find how soon -thou art forgot.</p> -<p>“But since thou hast endured the woes<br />That only fragile -woman knows,</p> -<p>“And loved as only woman can,<br />Thou shalt not suffer all -that man</p> -<p>“Must suffer when he interferes<br />With God’s great -law. In death’s dim spheres</p> -<p>“That justice waits, which men refuse.<br />Thy sex shall in -some part excuse</p> -<p>“Thy desperate deed. When God shall send<br />A second -death to be thy friend,</p> -<p>“Thou need’st not fear a darker fate -<br />Go forth -with yonder throng, and wait.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A SONG OF REPUBLICS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Fair Freedom’s ship, too long adrift -<br /> Of -every wind the sport -<br />Now rigged and manned, her course well planned,<br /> Sails -proudly out of port;<br />And fluttering gaily from the mast<br /> This -motto is unfurled,<br />Let all men heed its truth who read:<br /> “Republics -rule the World!”</p> -<p>The universe is high as God!<br /> Good is the final -goal;<br />The world revolves and man evolves<br /> A -purpose and a soul.<br />No church can bind, no crown forbid<br /> Thought’s -mighty upward course -<br />Let kings give way before its sway,<br /> For -God inspires its force.</p> -<p>The hero of a vanished age<br /> Was one who bathed -in gore;<br />Who best could fight was noblest knight<br /> In -savage days of yore;<br />Now warrior chiefs are out of date,<br /> The -times have changed. To-day<br />We call men great who arbitrate<br /> And -keep war’s hounds at bay.</p> -<p>The world no longer looks to priest<br /> Or prince -to know its needs;<br />Earth’s human throng has grown too strong<br /> To -rule with courts and creeds.<br />We want no kings but kings of toil --<br /> No crowns but crowns of deeds;<br />Not royal -birth but sterling worth<br /> Must mark the man who -leads.</p> -<p>Proud monarchies are out of step<br /> With modern -thought to-day,<br />For Brotherhood is understood,<br /> And -thrones may pass away.<br />Men dare to think. Concerted thought<br /> Contains -more power than swords:<br />The force that binds united minds<br /> Defeats -mere savage hordes.</p> -<p>Man needs no arbitrary hand<br /> To keep him in -control;<br />He feels the power grow hour by hour<br /> Of -his expanding soul:<br />In God’s stupendous scheme of worlds<br /> He -knows he has a place;<br />He is no slave to cringe, and crave<br /> Some -worthless monarch’s grace.</p> -<p>As ocean billows undermine<br /> The haughty shores -each hour,<br />Time’s sea has brought its waves of thought<br /> To -crumble thrones of power;<br />And one by one shall kingdoms fall<br /> Like -leaves before the blast,<br />As man with man combines to plan<br /> Republics -formed to last.</p> -<p>Columbia baulked a tyrant king,<br /> And built -upon a rock,<br />In Freedom’s name, a shrine whose fame<br /> Outlived -the century’s shock.<br />Now France within our port has set<br /> Her -symbol of re-birth;<br />Her lifted hand tells sea and land<br /> Republics -light the earth.</p> -<p>One mighty church for all the world<br /> Would -make men far more kind;<br />One government would bring content<br /> To -many a restless mind.<br />Sail on, fair ship of Freedom, sail<br /> The -wide sea’s breadth and length.<br />’Till worlds unite to -make the might<br /> Of “One Republic’s” -strength.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>MEMORIAL DAY - 1892</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The quiet graves of our country’s braves<br /> Through -thirty Junes and Decembers<br />Have solemnly lain under sun and rain,<br /> And -yet the Nation remembers.</p> -<p>The marching of feet and the flags on the street<br /> Told -once again this morning,<br />In the voice of the drum how the day had -come<br /> For those lowly beds’ adorning.</p> -<p>Then swiftly back on Time’s worn track<br /> His -three decades seemed driven,<br />And with startled eyes I saw arise,<br /> From -graves by fancy riven,</p> -<p>The Gray and Blue in a grand review.<br /> Oh! vast -were the hosts they numbered,<br />As they wheeled and swayed in a dress -parade<br /> O’er the graves where they long -had slumbered.</p> -<p>The colours were not, as when they fought,<br /> Ranked -one against the other,<br />But a mingled hue of gray and blue,<br /> As -brother marching with brother.</p> -<p>And a blue flower lay on each coat of gray,<br /> Like -forget-me-nots on a boulder;<br />And the gray moss lace in its Southern -grace<br /> Was knotted on each blue shoulder.</p> -<p>The vision fled; but I think our dead,<br /> If -they could come back with the living,<br />Would clasp warm hands o’er -hostile lands,<br /> Forgetting old wrongs and forgiving.</p> -<p>’Mong the blossoms of Spring that you gather and bring<br /> To -graves that though lowly are royal,<br />Let the blue flower prevail, -though modest and pale,<br /> Since it speaks of the -hue that was loyal.</p> -<p>But tie each bouquet with a ribbon of gray<br /> And -lay it on memory’s altar,<br />For the dead who fought for the -cause they thought<br /> Was right, and who did not -falter.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WHEN BABY SOULS SAIL OUT</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>When from our mortal vision<br /> Grown men and -women go<br />To sail strange fields Elysian<br /> And -know what spirits know,<br />I think of them as tourists,<br /> In -some sun-gilded clime,<br />’Mong happy sights and dear delights<br /> We -all shall find, in time.</p> -<p>But when a child goes yonder<br /> And leaves its -mother here,<br />Its little feet must wander,<br /> It -seems to me, in fear.<br />What paths of Eden beauty,<br /> What -scenes of peace and rest,<br />Can bring content to one who went<br /> Forth -from a mother’s breast?</p> -<p>In palace gardens, lonely,<br /> A little child -will roam<br />And weep for pleasures only<br /> Found -in its humble home.<br />It is not won by splendour,<br /> Nor -bought by costly toys;<br />To hide from harm on mother’s arm<br /> Makes -all its sum of joys.</p> -<p>It must be when the baby<br /> Goes journeying off -alone,<br />Some angel (Mary, may be)<br /> Adopts -it for her own.<br />Yet when a child is taken<br /> Whose -mother stays below,<br />With weeping eyes, through Paradise,<br /> I -seem to see it go.</p> -<p>With troops of angels trying<br /> To drive away -its fear,<br />I seem to hear it crying,<br /> “I -want my mamma here.”<br />I do not court the fancy,<br /> It -is not based on doubt,<br />It is a thought that comes unsought<br /> When -baby souls sail out.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>TO ANOTHER WOMAN’S BABY</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I list your prattle, baby boy,<br /> And hear your -pattering feet<br />With feelings more of pain than joy<br /> And -thoughts of bitter-sweet.</p> -<p>While touching your soft hands in play<br /> Such -passionate longings rise<br />For my wee boy who strayed away<br /> So -soon to Paradise.</p> -<p>You win me with your infant art;<br /> But when -our play is o’er,<br />The empty cradle in my heart<br /> Seems -lonelier than before.</p> -<p>Sweet baby boy, you do not guess<br /> How oft mine -eyes are dim,<br />Or that my lingering caress<br /> Is -sometimes meant for <i>him.</i></p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>DIAMONDS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The tears of fallen women turned to ice<br />By man’s cold -pity for repentant vice.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>RUBIES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>The crimson life-drops from a virgin heart<br />Pierced to the core -by Cupid’s fatal dart.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SAPPHIRES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Lost rays of light that wandered off alone<br /> And -down through space were hurled<br />From that great sapphire sun beyond -our own<br /> Pale, puny little world.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>TURQUOISE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>A baby went to heaven while it slept,<br /> And, -waking, missed its mother’s arms, and wept.<br />Those angel tear-drops, -falling earthward through<br /> God’s azure skies, -into the turquoise grew.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>REFORM</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The time has come when men with hearts and brains<br />Must rise -and take the misdirected reins<br />Of government; too long left in -the hands<br />Of aliens and of lackeys. He who stands<br />And -sees the mighty vehicle of State<br />Hauled through the mire to some -ignoble fate<br />And makes not such bold protest as he can,<br /> Is -no American,</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A MINOR CHORD</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I heard a strain of music in the street -<br /> A -wandering waif of sound. And then straightway<br /> A -nameless desolation filled the day.<br />The great green earth that -had been fair and sweet,<br />Seemed but a tomb; the life I thought -replete<br /> With joy, grew lonely for a vanished -May.<br /> Forgotten sorrows resurrected lay<br />Like -bleaching skeletons about my feet.</p> -<p>Above me stretched the silent, suffering sky,<br /> Dumb -with vast anguish for departed suns<br /> That -brutal Time to nothingness has hurled.<br />The daylight was as sad -as smiles that lie<br /> Upon the wistful, unkissed -mouths of nuns,<br /> And I stood -prisoned in an awful world.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>DEATH’S PROTEST</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Why dost thou shrink from my approach, O Man?<br />Why dost thou -ever flee in fear, and cling<br />To my false rival, Life? I do -but bring<br />Thee rest and calm. Then wherefore dost thou ban<br />And -curse me? Since the forming of God’s plan<br /> I -have not hurt or harmed a mortal thing,<br /> I have -bestowed sweet balm for every sting,<br />And peace eternal for earth’s -stormy span.</p> -<p>The wild mad prayers for comfort sent in vain<br /> To -knock at the indifferent heart of Life,<br /> I, -Death, have answered. Knowest thou not ’tis he,<br />My -cruel rival, who sends all thy pain<br /> And wears -the soul out in unending strife?<br /> Why -dost thou hold to him, then, spurning me?</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SEPTEMBER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>My life’s long radiant Summer halts at last,<br />And lo! beside -my path way I behold<br />Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold<br />Has -heralded her presence; but a vast<br />Sweet calm that comes not till -the year has passed<br /> Its fevered solstice, and -a tinge of gold<br /> Subdues the vivid colouring of -bold<br />And passion-hued emotions. I will cast</p> -<p>My August days behind me with my May,<br /> Nor -strive to drag them into Autumn’s place,<br /> Nor -swear I hope when I do but remember.<br />Now violet and rose have had -their day,<br /> I’ll pluck the soberer asters -with good grace<br /> And call September -nothing but September.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WAIL OF AN OLD-TIMER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Each new invention doubles our worries an’ our troubles,<br /> These -scientific fellows are spoilin’ of our land;<br />With motor, -wire, an’ cable, now’-days we’re scarcely able<br /> To -walk or ride in peace o’ mind, an’ ’tisn’t safe -to stand.</p> -<p>It fairly makes me crazy to see how tarnal lazy<br /> The -risin’ generation grows - an’ science is to blame.<br />With -telephones for talkin’, an’ messengers for walkin’,<br /> Our -young men sit an’ loaf an’ smoke, without a blush o’ -shame.</p> -<p>An’ then they wer’n’t contented until some one -invented<br /> A sort o’ jerky tape-line clock, -to help on wasteful ways.<br />An’ that infernal ticker spends -money fur ’em quicker<br /> Than any neighbourhood -o’ men in good old bygone days.</p> -<p>The risin’ generation is bent so on creation,<br /> Folks -haven’t time to talk or sing or cry or even laugh.<br />But if -you take the notion to want some such emotion,<br /> They’ve -got it all on tap fur you, right in the phonograph.</p> -<p>But now a crazy creature has introduced the feature<br /> Of -artificial weather, I think we’re nearly through.<br />For when -we once go strainin’ to keep it dry or rainin’<br /> To -suit the general public, ’twill bust the world in two,</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WAS, IS, AND YET-TO-BE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>Was, Is, and Yet-to-Be<br />Were chatting over a cup of tea.</p> -<p>In tarnished finery smelling of must,<br />Was talked of people long -turned to dust;</p> -<p>Of titles and honours and high estate,<br />All forgotten or out -of date;</p> -<p>Of wonderful feasts in the long ago,<br />Of pride that perished -with nothing to show.</p> -<p>“I loathe the present,” said Was, with a groan;<br />“I -live in pleasures that I <i>have</i> known.”</p> -<p>The Yet-to-be, in a gown of gauze,<br />Looked over the head of musty -Was,</p> -<p>And gazed far off into misty space<br />With a wrapt expression upon -her face.</p> -<p>“Such wonderful pleasures are coming to me,<br />Such glory, -such honour,” said Yet-to-be.</p> -<p>“No one dreamed, in the vast Has-Been,<br />Of such successes -as I shall win.</p> -<p>“The past, the present - why, what are they?<br />I live for -the joy of a future day.”</p> -<p>Then practical Is, in a fresh print dress,<br />Spoke up with a laugh, -“I must confess</p> -<p>“I find to-day so pleasant,” she said,<br />“I -never look back, and seldom ahead.</p> -<p>“Whatever has been, is a finished sum;<br />Whatever will be -- why, let it come.</p> -<p>“To-day is mine. And so, you see,<br />I have the past -and the yet-to-be;</p> -<p>“For to-day is the future of yesterday,<br />And the past of -to-morrow. I live while I may,</p> -<p>“And I think the secret of pleasure is this.<br />And this -alone,” said practical Is.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>MISTAKES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>God sent us here to make mistakes,<br /> To strive, -to fail, to re-begin,<br /> To taste the tempting fruit -of sin,<br />And find what bitter food it makes,</p> -<p>To miss the path, to go astray,<br /> To wander -blindly in the night;<br /> But, searching, praying -for the light,<br />Until at last we find the way.</p> -<p>And looking back along the past,<br /> We know we -needed all the strain<br /> Of fear and doubt and strife -and pain<br />To make us value peace, at last.</p> -<p>Who fails, finds later triumph sweet;<br /> Who -stumbles once, walks then with care,<br /> And knows -the place to cry “Beware”<br />To other unaccustomed feet.</p> -<p>Through strife the slumbering soul awakes,<br /> We -learn on error’s troubled route<br /> The truths -we could not prize without<br />The sorrow of our sad mistakes.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>DUAL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>You say that your nature is double; that life<br /> Seems -more and more intricate, complex, and dual,<br />Because in your bosom -there wages the strife<br /> ’Twixt an angel -of light and a beast that is cruel -<br />An angel who whispers your -spirit has wings,<br />And a beast who would chain you to temporal things.</p> -<p>I listen with interest to all you have told,<br /> And -now let me give you my view of your trouble:<br />You are to be envied, -not pitied; I hold<br /><i> That every strong nature -is always made double</i>.<br />The beast has his purpose; he need not -be slain:<br />He should serve the good angel in harness and chain.</p> -<p>The body that never knows carnal desires,<br /> The -heart that to passion is always a stranger,<br />Is merely a furnace -with unlighted fires;<br /> It sends forth no warmth -while it threatens no danger.<br />But who wants to shiver in cold safety -there?<br /><i>Touch flame to the fuel</i>! then watch it with care.</p> -<p>Those wild, fierce emotions that trouble your soul<br /> Are -sparks from the great source of passion and power;<br />Throne reason -above them, and give it control,<br /> And turn into -blessing this dangerous dower.<br />By lightnings unguided destruction -is hurled,<br />But chained and directed they gladden the world.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE ALL-CREATIVE SPARK</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Pain can go guised as joy, dross pass for gold,<br /> Vulgarity -can masquerade as wit,<br />Or spite wear friendship’s garments; -but I hold<br /> That passionate feeling has no counterfeit.<br />Chief -jewel from Jove’s crown ’twas sent men, lent<br />For inspiration -and for sacrament.</p> -<p>Jove never could have made the Universe<br /> Had -he not glowed with passion’s sacred fire;<br />Though man oft -turns the blessing to a curse,<br /> And burns himself -on his own funeral pyre,<br />Though scarred the soul be where its light -burns bright,<br />Yet where it is not, neither is there might.</p> -<p>Yea, it was set in Jove’s resplendent crown<br /> When -he created worlds; that done, why, hence,<br />He cast the priceless, -awful jewel down<br /> To be man’s punishment -and recompense.<br />And that is how he sees and hears our tears<br />Unmoved -and calm from the eternal spheres.</p> -<p>But sometimes, since he parted with all passion,<br /> In -trifling mood, to pass the time away,<br />He has created men in that -same fashion,<br /> And many women (jesting as gods -may),<br />Who have no souls to be inspired or fired,<br />Mere sport -of idle gods who have grown tired.</p> -<p>And these poor puppets, gazing in the dark<br /> At -their own shadows, think the world no higher;<br />And when they see -the all-creative spark<br /> In other souls, they straightway -cry out, “Fire!”<br />And shriek, and rave, till their dissent -is spent,<br />While listening gods laugh loud in merriment.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>BE NOT CONTENT</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Be not content - contentment means inaction;<br /> The -growing soul aches on its upward quest;<br />Satiety is twin to satisfaction;<br /> All -great achievements spring from life’s unrest.</p> -<p>The tiny roots, deep in the dark mould hiding,<br /> Would -never bless the earth with leaf and flower<br />Were not an inborn restlessness -abiding<br /> In seed and germ, to stir them with its -power.</p> -<p>Were man contented with his lot forever,<br /> He -had not sought strange seas with sails unfurled,<br />And the vast wonder -of our shores had never<br /> Dawned on the gaze of -an admiring world.</p> -<p>Prize what is yours, but be not quite contented.<br /> There -is a healthful restlessness of soul<br />By which a mighty purpose is -augmented<br /> In urging men to reach a higher goal.</p> -<p>So when the restless impulse rises, driving<br /> Your -calm content before it, do not grieve;<br />It is the upward reaching -of the spirit<br /> Of the God in you to achieve - -achieve.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>ACTION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>For ever stars are winging<br /> Their swift and -endless race;<br />For ever suns are swinging<br /> Their -mighty globes through space.<br />Since by his law required<br />To -join God’s spheres inspired,<br />The earth has never tired,<br /> But -whirled and whirled and whirled.<br />For ever streams are flowing,<br />For -ever seeds are growing,<br />Alway is Nature showing<br /> That -Action rules the world.</p> -<p>And since by God requested<br /> To <i>be</i>, the -glorious light<br />Has never paused or rested,<br /> But -travelled day and night.<br />Yet pigmy man, unseeing<br />The purpose -of his being,<br />Demands escape and freeing<br /> From -universal force.<br />But law is law for ever,<br />And like a mighty -lever<br />It thrusts him tow’rd endeavour,<br /> And -speeds him on his course.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>TWO ROSES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>A humble wild-rose, pink and slender,<br /> Was -plucked and placed in a bright bouquet,<br />Beside a Jacqueminot’s -royal splendour,<br /> And both in my lady’s -boudoir lay.</p> -<p>Said the haughty bud, in a tone of scorning,<br /> “I -wonder why you are called a rose?<br />Your leaves will fade in a single -morning;<br /> No blood of mine in your pale cheek -glows.</p> -<p>“Your coarse green stalk shows dust of the highway,<br /> You -have no depths of fragrant bloom;<br />And what could you learn in a -rustic byway<br /> To fit you to lie in my lady’s -room?</p> -<p>“If called to adorn her warm, white bosom,<br /> What -have you to offer for such a place,<br />Beside my fragrant and splendid -blossom,<br /> Ripe with colour and rich with grace?”</p> -<p>Said the sweet wild-rose, “Despite your dower<br /> Of -finer breeding and deeper hue,<br />Despite your beauty, fair, high-bred -flower,<br /> It is I who should lie on her breast, -not you.</p> -<p>“For small account is your hot-house glory<br /> Beside -the knowledge that came to me<br />When I heard by the wayside love’s -old story<br /> And felt the kiss of the amorous bee.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SATIETY</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>To yearn for what we have not had, to sit<br /> With -hungry eyes glued on the Future’s gate,<br />Why, that is heaven -compared to having it<br /> With all the power gone -to appreciate.</p> -<p>Better to wait and yearn, and still to wait,<br /> And -die at last with unappeased desire,<br />Than live to be the jest of -such a fate,<br /> For that is my conception of hell-fire.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A SOLAR ECLIPSE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>In that great journey of the stars through space<br /> About -the mighty, all-directing Sun,<br />The pallid, faithful Moon has been -the one<br />Companion of the Earth. Her tender face,<br />Pale -with the swift, keen purpose of that race<br /> Which -at Time’s natal hour was first begun,<br /> Shines -ever on her lover as they run<br />And lights his orbit with her silvery -smile.</p> -<p>Sometimes such passionate love doth in her rise,<br /> Down -from her beaten path she softly slips,<br />And with her mantle veils -the Sun’s bold eyes,<br /> Then in the gloaming -finds her lover’s lips.<br />While far and near the men our world -call wise<br /> See only that the Sun is in eclipse.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A SUGGESTION<br />To C. A. D.</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Let the wild red-rose bloom. Though not to thee<br /> So -delicately perfect as the white<br /> And unwed lily -drooping in the light,<br />Though she has known the kisses of the bee<br /> And -tells her amorous tale to passers-by<br />In perfumed whispers and with -untaught grace,<br />Still let the red-rose bloom in her own place;<br /> She -could not be the lily should she try.</p> -<p>Why to the wondrous nightingale cry hush<br /> Or -bid her cease her wild heart-breaking lay,<br /> And -tune her voice to imitate the way<br />The whip-poor-will makes music, -or the thrush?<br /> All airs of sorrow to one theme -belong,<br />And passion is not copyrighted yet.<br />Each heart writes -its own music. Why not let<br /> The nightingale -unchided sing her song?</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE DEPTHS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Not only sun-kissed heights are fair. Below<br />The cold, -dark billows of the frowning deep<br />Do lovely blossoms of the ocean -sleep,<br />Rocked gently by the waters to and fro.<br />The coral beds -with magic colours glow,<br /> And priceless pearl-encrusted -molluscs heap<br /> The glittering rocks where shining -atoms leap<br />Like living broken rainbows.</p> -<p> Even so<br />We find the sea -of sorrow. Black as night<br /> The sullen surface -meets our frightened gaze,<br /> As -down we sink to darkness and despair.<br />But at the depths - such -beauty! such delight!<br /> Such flowers as never grew -in pleasure’s ways!<br /> Ah! -not alone are sun-kissed summits fair.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LIFE’S OPERA</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Like an opera-house is the world, I ween,<br />Where the passionate -lover of music is seen<br /> In the balcony near the -roof:<br />While the very best seat in the first stage-box<br />Is filled -by the person who laughs and talks<br /> Through the -harmony’s warp and woof.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE SALT SEA-WIND</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>When Venus, mother and maker of blisses,<br /> Rose -out of the billows, large-limbed, and fair,<br />She stood on the sands -and blew sweet kisses<br /> To the salt sea-wind as -she dried her hair.</p> -<p>And the salt sea-wind was the first to caress her<br /> To -praise her beauty and call her sweet,<br />The first of the whole wide -world to possess her,<br /> She, that creature of light -and heat.</p> -<p>Though the sea is old with its sorrows and angers,<br /> And -the world has forgotten why love was born,<br />Yet the salt sea-wind -is full of the languors<br /> That Venus taught on -her natal morn.</p> -<p>And now whoever dwells there by the ocean,<br /> And -feels the wind on his hair and face,<br />Is stirred by a subtle and -keen emotion,<br /> The lingering spell of that first -embrace.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>NEW YEAR</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>New Year, I look straight in your eyes -<br /> Our -ways and our interests blend;<br />You may be a foe in disguise,<br /> But -I shall believe you a friend.<br />We get what we give in our measure,<br />We -cannot give pain and get pleasure;<br />I give you good will and good -cheer,<br />And you must return it, New Year.</p> -<p>We get what we give in this life,<br /> Though often -the giver indeed<br />Waits long upon doubting and strife<br /> Ere -proving the truth of my creed.<br />But somewhere, some way, and for -ever<br />Reward is the meed of endeavour;<br />And if I am really worth -while,<br />New Year, you will give me your smile.</p> -<p>You hide in your mystical hand<br /> No “luck” -that I cannot control,<br />If I trust my own courage and stand<br /> On -the Infinite strength of my soul.<br />Man holds in his brain and his -spirit<br />A power that is God-like, or near it,<br />And he who has -measured his force<br />Can govern events and their course.</p> -<p>You come with a crown on your brow,<br /> New Year, -without blemish or spot;<br />Yet you, and not I, sir, must bow,<br /> For -time is the servant of thought<br />Whatever you bring me of trouble<br />Shall -turn into good, and then double,<br />If my spirit looks up without -fear<br />To the Source that you came from, New Year.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>CONCENTRATION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The age is too diffusive. Time and Force<br /> Are -frittered out and bring no satisfaction.<br /> The -way seems lost to straight determined action.<br /> Like -shooting stars that zig-zag from their course<br /> We -wander from our orbit’s pathway; spoil<br />The rôle we’re -fitted for, to fail in twenty.<br />Bring empty measures, that were -shaped for plenty,<br /> At last as guerdon for a life -of toil.<br />There’s lack of greatness in this generation<br /> Because -no more man centres on one thought.<br /> We know this -truth, and yet we heed it not:<br />The secret of success is Concentration.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THOUGHTS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Thoughts do not need the wings of words<br /> To -fly to any goal.<br />Like subtle lightnings, not like birds,<br /> They -speed from soul to soul.</p> -<p>Hide in your heart a bitter thought -<br /> Still -it has power to blight;<br />Think Love - although you speak it not<br /> It -gives the world more light.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LUCK</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Luck is the tuning of our inmost thought<br /> To -chord with God’s great plan.<br /> That -done, ah! know,<br />Thy silent wishes to results shall grow,<br />And -day by day shall miracles be wrought.<br />Once let thy being selflessly -be brought<br /> To chime with universal good, and -lo!<br /> What music from the spheres shall through -thee flow!<br />What benefits shall come to thee unsought!</p> -<p>Shut out the noise of traffic! Rise above<br /> The -body’s clamour! With the soul’s fine ear<br /> Attune -thyself to harmonies divine -<br />All, all are written in the key of -Love.<br /> Keep to the score, and thou hast naught -to fear;<br /> Achievements yet undreamed -of shall be thine.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, POEMS OF SENTIMENT ***</p> -<pre> - -******This file should be named psen10h.htm or psen10h.zip****** -Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, psen11h.htm -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, psen10ah.htm - -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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