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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-04-13 04:21:16 -0700 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-04-13 04:21:16 -0700 |
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diff --git a/75847-0.txt b/75847-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c90deae --- /dev/null +++ b/75847-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2381 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75847 *** + + + + + + THE SINGING LEAVES + A BOOK OF SONGS AND SPELLS BY JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY + + + ‘_Come, my beloved, let us go forth + into the field. Let us lodge in the + villages._’ + +[Illustration: [Logo]] + + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + =The Riverside Press Cambridge= + + + + + COPYRIGHT 1903 BY JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY + + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + _Published November, 1903_ + + + TENTH IMPRESSION + + + Thanks are due to the editors of + Harper’s Monthly, Scribner’s Magazine, + and other periodicals, for their + courteous permission to reprint many of + the following poems. + + + + + THE SINGING LEAVES + + + + + DEDICATION. + + + Whosoever cares to look + In my little Book, + If he care to look again, + Let him so; and then, + Should there be a very few + Glad to say Amen + To old wonders ever new, + —Why, it is for You. + + + + + SONGS AND SPELLS. + + THE HOUSE AND THE ROAD PAGE 3 + CHARM TO BE SAID IN THE SUN 4 + BEFORE MEAT 6 + SAD TRUTH 7 + GLAD TRUTH 8 + THE BIRD IN THE HAND 9 + WAKING 10 + THE MAGIC 12 + ROAD-SONGS. I. AND II. 14, 15 + THE CEDARS 16 + ALMS 17 + THE INN 18 + SINS 19 + THE WATCHER 20 + TO SAD-HEART 21 + SONG AND NEED 22 + HERE’S APRIL 25 + THE COMING 26 + MUSIC 27 + EVER THE SAME 28 + MAYBE 29 + THE SONG OUTSIDE 30 + THE PASSERS-BY 32 + + THE LITTLE PAST. + JOURNEY 35 + SUNSET 37 + THE BUSY CHILD 38 + CONCERNING LOVE 40 + COW-BELLS 41 + WIND 42 + THE MYSTIC 43 + THE MASTERPIECE 44 + LATE 46 + CAKES AND ALE 47 + EARLY 48 + + THE YOUNG THINGS. + THE SAPLING 51 + THE HERO 52 + NESTS 53 + SIDE-STREETS 55 + THE FIR-TREE 56 + EARLY-HEART 57 + BEAUTIFUL 58 + AFTER ALL 59 + VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER 60 + THE TOP OF THE MORNING 62 + FORETHOUGHT 63 + UNSAID 64 + DANCE-TIME 65 + THE ENCHANTED SHEEP-FOLD 67 + YES, LOVE IS BLIND 69 + THE MORNING WAS SO BRIGHT 71 + THE TWO 73 + AFTER-THOUGHT 74 + + OTHERS. + NEAR AND FAR 77 + FRIENDS ALL 78 + VANTAGE 79 + A SONG OF SOLOMON 80 + COUNSEL TO BEGGARS 81 + THE TWA CHEERLESS 83 + THE WALK 84 + REFRAINS 86 + OUTSIDE THE MUSIC 87 + THE FAIREST 88 + THE CHILD AND THE ANGEL 90 + READING FOR THE POOR 91 + THE BLIND ONE 92 + HOLIDAY 93 + THE FOOL 94 + DRUDGE 96 + THE YOUNGEST DRYAD 97 + COME BUY! 99 + PRINCE CHARLIE 100 + THE MEETING 101 + THE COBBLER 102 + MIRACLE 103 + OPEN HOUSE 104 + O SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP! 105 + THE CLOUD 107 + THE RAVENS 109 + NEIGHBORS 111 + THE MORNING SOUL 112 + THE HILL-TOP 114 + THE DOVES 115 + FOUND 116 + ALL HAIL 117 + THE ANOINTED 119 + + EPILOGUE. + _TO THE EVENING STAR_ 123 + _TO HER BOOK_ 124 + + + SONGS AND SPELLS. + + + + +THE HOUSE AND THE ROAD. + + + The little Road says Go, + The little House says Stay: + And O, it’s bonny here at home, + But I must go away. + + The little Road, like me, + Would seek and turn and know; + And forth I must, to learn the things + The little Road would show! + + And go I must, my dears, + And journey while I may, + Though heart be sore for the little House + That had no word but Stay. + + Maybe, no other way + Your child could ever know + Why a little House would have you stay, + When a little Road says, Go. + + + + +CHARM: TO BE SAID IN THE SUN. + + + I reach my arms up, to the sky, + And golden vine on vine + Of sunlight showered wild and high, + Around my brows I twine. + + I wreathe, I wind it everywhere, + The burning radiancy + Of brightness that no eye may dare, + To be the strength of me. + + Come, redness of the crystalline, + Come green, come hither blue + And violet—all alive within, + For I have need of you. + + Come honey-hue and flush of gold, + And through the pallor run, + With pulse on pulse of manifold + New largess of the Sun! + + O steep the silence till it sing! + O glories from the height, + Come down, where I am garlanding + With light, a child of light! + + + + +BEFORE MEAT. + + + Hunger of the world, + When we ask a grace, + Be remembered here with us, + By the vacant place. + + Thirst, with nought to drink, + Sorrow more than mine, + May God someday make you laugh, + With water turned to wine. + + + + +SAD TRUTH. + + + Truth I tell with heavy heart, + To another one, + Give me sweetness for your smart, + When sad time is done. + + Then may I be clear again, + Love without disguise; + Since I have to bear, till then, + Dark of hostile eyes. + + _Bitter shall be sweet some day. + Ah, but that is far away! + I must bind my heart and say: + Bitter now, but sweet some day._ + + + + +GLAD TRUTH. + + + Beautiful, that did come true, + Beautiful, so it was you! + If forgiveness be for us + That we ever doubted thus, + Then forgive us radiantly, + All our doubts that are to be. + Now that we lay hold of you, + Nearer than we hoped or knew, + Dearer than we looked to find, + Beautiful, forgive the blind. + + + + +THE BIRD IN THE HAND. + + + Yesterday has flown away + Far beyond the sun. + And of morrows, who can say, + Till another one? + + Only Now is all my own, + And my heart knows how: + O wild wings for a sky unknown, + Mine, mine—now! + + + + +WAKING. + + + Early in the morning, + Early in the dew, + Singing from the mountains + Where the dreams withdrew, + Lingered one I knew. + + ‘Soul, art thou so shining? + What is there to tell? + Whither hast thou journeyed?’ + And the answer fell, + ‘Early to the well. + + ‘Early, early, early, + To the farthest light; + Drinking, singing, bathing + In the cool, the might, + Whence I have my sight. + + ‘There I found my sandals + Gladdened with a wing; + And my fair apparel + Woven out of Spring. + Therefore do I sing.’ + + And the golden voices + Warming with the sun, + Dimmed the silver voices, + Fading, one by one. + And the dream was done. + + + + +THE MAGIC. + + + You who saw through my disguise + Though I came so poor, + Let me bless your true two eyes + And your open door. + Yes, I am a wonder-child; + Hark and tell it not.— + With the journey and the cold + I had half forgot. + + Take the charmèd seeds I lay + In your open hand: + Some would cast them all away, + You will understand. + Trust the bud to come to flower, + Trust the flower for fruit. + Listen in the winter-time + For a cricket lute. + + Here are blessings all from me + —Though they look like tears— + For your blessed eyes that see + And your heart that hears. + I am higher than I seem, + Fair as I would be: + O, I bless your heart that hears, + And your eyes that see! + + They were ragged gifts I showed, + But you took the sense + Of the bird-nest from the road, + And the lucky pence. + And for all the charms I leave + Every time I pass, + Simple folk will only see + Cobwebs on the grass! + + + + +ROAD-SONG. + + + I. + + At home the waters in the grass + Went singing happy words; + But here, they flicker through my hands + As silent as the birds. + + I see a Rose. But once they grew + All thronging, thronging,—wild, + And white, and red, before I came + To be a human child. + + + II. + + While I am resting by the road + So dully here apart, + Far-off my Angel laughs, maybe, + Where God shines round her heart. + + O, she is laughing, as I think, + Because they cannot know + The parching wonder of the noon + With all our ways below. + + They cannot know. But now and then. + They may let fall a song + Blown like a feather down to me, + Because the road is long. + + + + +THE CEDARS. + + + All down the years the fragrance came, + The mingled fragrance, with a flame, + Of Cedars breathing in the sun, + The Cedar-trees of Lebanon. + + O thirst of song in bitter air, + And hope, wing-hurt from iron care, + What balm of myrrh and honey, won + From far-off trees of Lebanon! + + Not from these eyelids yet, have I + Ever beheld that early sky. + Why do they call me through the sun?— + Even the trees of Lebanon? + + + + +ALMS. + + + I met Poor Sorrow on the way + As I came down the years; + I gave him everything I had + And looked at him through tears. + + ‘But Sorrow, give me here again + Some little sign to show; + For I have given all I own; + Yet have I far to go.’ + + Then Sorrow charmed my eyes for me + And hallowed them thus far: + ‘Look deep enough in every dark, + And you shall see the star.’ + + + + +THE INN. + + + When I come back to sorrow, + The place seems very old. + Full well I know the lodging, + The meagreness, the cold; + And everything is told. + + The common daily portion, + No ampler and no less; + And sorry worn the cup is + And full of humbleness: + A soul can say but, ‘Yes.’ + + The earthen wares are many, + But never are they new. + The one-time guest departed + The same gray service knew, + There is no change for you. + + + + +SINS. + + + A lie, it may be black or white; + I care not for the lie: + My grief is for the tortured breath + Of Truth that cannot die. + + And cruelty, what that may be, + What creature understands? + But O, the glazing eyes of Love, + Stabbed through the open hands! + + + + +THE WATCHER. + + + My neighbor’s grief is dark to me. + I gaze and dread, without; + And marvel how he lives to bear + The blackness, and the doubt. + + And yet, by all lost ways of grief + That I have had to plod, + I know how small a rift lets through + A little gleam of God. + + + + +TO SAD-HEART. + + + I have a word for you, + For you, Sad-Heart, + And pray you keep it till the dawn come true, + And sorrow part. + + I never bid you doff + A single care: + But ever till to-morrow, O, put off— + Put off Despair! + + + + +SONG AND NEED. + + + Heart said, ‘If I had wings, + Such wings as hath the lark, + Even as that freedom sings + Beyond the dark, + I too, if I could fly + From chains that weigh and cling + Ah, but then I could sing,— + Could I! + + ‘O dayspring of desire! + Mid-ocean of delight + Before the dawn of fire + On dawn of sight! + My joy, could it undo + All that despair has done, + I could find out the Sun, + —I too.’ + + But ah, how vain to long + For glory of the lark, + Who hast more need of song + Down in thy dark; + Where chains may always irk, + And every day’s rebuff + Leave thee scarce breath enough, + To work! + + Nay, never to assuage + Our need, is joy begun, + But follows some poor wage + Full hardly won. + Never vain wish shall bring + The music from the dumb. + Needs must—ere song will come— + We sing! + + To him who hath, late, soon, + To him shall it be given. + Make to thyself some boon, + Some little heaven: + Some feigning, through that mirk, + The blue of upper skies; + And sing—with blindfold eyes— + At work! + + + + +HERE’S APRIL. + + + Wearied one, + Rest a little in the sun. + Here is April come behind you + With a blessing on your head: + Rains unshed, + And her loving hands that blind you + While she queries, ‘Who am I?’ + Of the darkened eye. + O, I heard the winter pass! + Came a sigh from waking grass + That should wake a daffodilly. + April, and up-rising now,—and every kind of lily! + + + + +THE COMING. + + + Low in the west, the early star + Is hazed with fires of Spring. + Low in the east, the golden moon + Comes slowly westering. + + The last-year leaves, they breathe and stir + With hope beyond their ken. + O golden fear!—that men must hear + All hearts wake up again. + + + + +MUSIC. + + + ‘O Heart of all things, Heart’s Desire come true, + That nothing may undo! + How long have I been stricken dim with fear, + Hungry and cold and lost, till I should hear + You,—you. + + ‘Now fold me in, O Beautiful, most dear! + And now that you are here, + Where were you, Dearness,—lost and far apart? + So far!’—‘Nay, all the time, O little heart, + So near.’ + + + + +EVER THE SAME. + + + King Solomon walked a thousand times + Forth of his garden-close; + And saw there spring no goodlier thing, + Be sure, than the same little rose. + + Under the sun was nothing new, + Or now, I well suppose. + But what new thing could you find to sing + More rare than the same little rose? + + Nothing is new; save I, save you, + And every new heart that grows, + On the same Earth met, that nurtures yet + Breath of the same little rose. + + + + +MAYBE. + + + Heigh-ho! The same old road it is, + And weary dull am I, + With the same old road and the same old song + I hum and know not why. + + But over yon, the city smoke + Goes after one gray dove, + With a flock of gold and silver wings + Along the sun, above. + + And of the miry pools below, + The sparrows make the best; + And windows all, with dazzled eyes, + They stare into the west. + + And I, I hum the same old song + Though no one could say why. + Maybe so, my singing knows + Even more than I. + + + + +THE SONG OUTSIDE. + + + When will you come, you maiden by the window, + Come out and leave your little window, there? + Why will you bind your heart up every morning, + As every morning you bind your hair? + Your vine astir would wake a cloud of swallows; + The sower’s forth and every worker follows; + The world goes forth, to earn, to seek, to share! + Why is it, little face behind a window, + You do not dare, + You do not dare? + + Then will you come, you maiden by the window, + To hear the heart of twilight in the air? + And will you heed the breathing of the wayside, + And all the wise, wide singing everywhere?— + And you and more than you, and more than neighbor, + —With care and bloom, despair and wrinkled labor, + It folds, it holds them all, till they are fair; + —Fairer than you, my maiden by the window, + And unaware, + —All unaware! + + + + +THE PASSERS-BY. + + + Though the dawn bring grayest thread + That my Fates have spun; + Though I lift not up my head, + Sorrow may not shun + The glory of the Sun. + + Yea, and though the gold sands run + Fleet through afternoon, + Shadow, that will speed the Sun, + Brings me yet as soon + The glory of the Moon. + + Blessèd Ones, and shining boon + Over all our wars! + Blessed we, by night or noon, + That no anguish mars + The glory of the Stars. + + + + + THE LITTLE PAST. + + + + +JOURNEY. + + + I never saw the hills so far + And blue, the way the pictures are; + + And flowers, flowers growing thick, + But not a one for me to pick! + + The land was running from the train + All blurry through the window-pane; + + And then it all looked flat and still, + When up there jumped a little hill! + + I saw the windows and the spires, + And sparrows sitting on the wires; + + And fences running up and down; + And then we cut straight through a town. + + I saw a Valley, like a cup; + And ponds that twinkled, and dried up. + + I counted meadows that were burnt; + And there were trees, and then there weren’t! + + We crossed the bridges with a roar, + Then hummed the way we went before. + + And tunnels made it dark and light + Like open-work of day and night; + + Until I saw the chimneys rise, + And lights and lights and lights, like eyes. + + And when they took me through the door, + I heard it all begin to roar.— + + I thought, as far as I could see, + That everybody wanted me! + + + + +SUNSET. + + + Those islands far away are mine, + Beyond the cloudy strip; + And something beautiful, besides:— + I think it is a ship. + + + + +THE BUSY CHILD. + + + I have so many things to do, + I don’t know when I shall be through. + + To-day I had to watch the rain + Come sliding down the window-pane. + + And I was humming all the time, + Around my head, a kind of rhyme; + + And blowing softly on the glass + To see the dimness come and pass. + + I made a picture, with my breath + Rubbed out to show the underneath. + + I built a city on the floor; + And then I went and was a War. + + And I escaped from square to square + That’s greenest on the carpet there, + + Until at last I came to Us; + But it was very dangerous: + + Because if I had stepped outside, + I made believe I should have died! + + And now I have the boat to mend, + And all our supper to pretend. + + I am so busy, every day, + I haven’t any time to play. + + + + +CONCERNING LOVE. + + + I wish she would not ask me if I love the Kitten more than her. + Of course I love her. But I love the Kitten too: and It has fur. + + + + +COW-BELLS. + + + O what is there behind the hills, + That all of the bells must know?— + Over in all the light that fills + The Valley with that glow? + + I followed a bell, and it all came true: + Some down, and a yellow-bird; + And Cedars—oh!—and specked with blue; + And everything else I heard: + + Only whatever it is, behind + The bell with the farthest call; + The one I follow and never find, + —The loveliest one of all. + + + + +WIND. + + + I let them call it just the Wind + And tell me not to grieve: + But I know all it left behind, + And more than they believe. + + I know about the far-off lands + Where people never sleep; + They hide their faces in their hands, + And rock and weep and weep. + + And I too little, all alone, + To go and find them yet:— + But oh, I hear!—When I am grown, + I never will forget. + + + + +THE MYSTIC. + + + People say to me, + ‘A Penny for your thought!’ + And I can’t remember thinking; + And I should think I ought. + I wasn’t sleeping, either: + I know that, because + I saw things out of both my eyes. + I wonder where I was. + + Now I’m back, I see them + Sitting all around; + And the noise together + Makes a purring sound. + But I know something more + Than just awhile ago. + I know something more!— + I wonder what I know. + + + + +THE MASTERPIECE. + + + My mother cut it out for me + And started it so I could see; + And then she turned some edges in + And let me take it to begin. + I made it. But I did not know + How very hard it is to sew. + I took a long time for that stitch, + And now it’s there, I don’t know which + Is better. But not one is small, + And they are not alike at all. + That side was very hard to fix; + And then the needle always pricks, + But you must hold it and take care, + Because the point is always there. + And knots keep coming, by and by; + And then, no matter how you try, + The thread comes out of its old eye. + + · · · · · + + But someway, now I have it done,— + I think it is a pretty one. + + + + +LATE. + + + My father brought somebody up, + To show us all asleep. + They came as softly up the stairs + As you could creep. + + They whispered in the doorway there + And looked at us awhile. + I had my eyes shut up, but I + Could feel him smile. + + I shut my eyes up close, and lay + As still as I could keep; + Because I knew he wanted us + To be asleep. + + + + +CAKES AND ALE. + + + I’m always glad when Andrew comes. + If only I am there, + He stays awhile and talks to me + As if he did not care. + + He took me to some Music once, + When it was all for me: + And O, I had a splendid time! + And he said, so did he. + + It lasts, as if the Music still + Went round and round the sky:— + He said he had a good time, too; + And I said, so did I! + + + + +EARLY. + + + I like to lie and wait to see + My mother braid her hair. + It is as long as it can be, + And yet she doesn’t care. + I love my mother’s hair. + + And then the way her fingers go; + They look so quick and white,— + In and out, and to and fro, + And braiding in the light, + And it is always right. + + So then she winds it, shiny brown, + Around her head into a crown, + Just like the day before. + And then she looks and pats it down, + And looks a minute more; + While I stay here all still and cool. + O, isn’t morning beautiful? + + + + + THE YOUNG THINGS. + + + + +THE SAPLING. + + + When I was but a sprig of May, + With wonders to command, + Above all else I loved most well + What none could understand; + And dear were things far-off—far-off, but nothing near at hand. + + O, now it was the sunset isle + Beyond the weather-vane; + And now it was the chime I heard + From belfry-towers of Spain; + But never yet the little leaf that tapped my window-pane. + + Heigh-ho, the wistful things unseen + That reach, as I did then, + To guess, and wear the heart of youth + With eager Why and When! + And never eye takes heed of them, in all the world of men. + + + + +THE HERO. + + + I saw the river going, + All silver to the brim, + Along the southern meadows + That were a home to him. + + I sang, ‘O River, bear him + My dream, a silver swan. + ’Tis only he, all day, all day, + That I do think upon.’ + + And oh, my foolish heart forgot, + So rapt in heart’s desire, + The years he has been sleeping, + Beneath a far-off spire. + + + + +NESTS. + + + O Sparrow, sparrow, did you ever try + To build a nest high up where no birds are, + And close unto a star, + Where it might cling and hear the wind go by? + For that did I! + + And far and far I flew along the quest, + For shelter, and I passed the summer rain, + I saw the daylight wane; + I found among the stars no place of rest, + And built no nest. + + Down to the Earth again with baffled wings, + The warm green earth where such as we must stay. + But all the livelong day, + High over heaven my dream nest clings and swings, + And my heart sings, + Sparrow! + + + + +SIDE STREETS. + + + Some days the faces in the street + Are clouded all, and dull; + And near or far, not one I see + To call it beautiful. + + O heavy, heavy is my heart; + And is the spirit blind? + That I am stricken with a doubt, + Because of human kind. + + Until I rest my looks upon + Some cart-horse standing by, + With patient forehead, weary mane, + And unreproachful eye. + + And kiss him on the brow I do!— + Because I have a mind + To thank him just that he will be + So beautiful, and kind. + + + + +THE FIR-TREE. + + + The winds have blown more bitter + Each darkening day of fall; + High over all the house-tops + The stars are far and small. + I wonder, will my fir-tree + Be green in spite of all? + + O grief is colder—colder + Than wind from any part; + And tears of grief are bitter tears, + And doubt’s a sorer smart! + But I promised to my fir-tree + To keep the fragrant heart. + + + + +EARLY-HEART. + + + ‘Early-Heart tends no geese like ours; + Every one is a swan, + Fit to sing with a nightingale, + Or say to a goose, Begone!’ + + ‘Alack, poor souls,’ quoth Early-Heart, + ‘Then yours be only geese? + Nor only so; but your sheep are sheep; + And mine have a golden fleece!’ + + Quoth Early-Heart, ‘And if mine be swans, + Right true you say, hereby. + So take your little and leave my much; + For the lad in luck am I!’ + + Waddle and quack, and bleat and baa, + They quacked and they baa’d, ’tis true. + But Early-Heart followed a white, white flock, + And the hills were far and blue. + + + + +BEAUTIFUL. + + + I have no word to tell you + The beauty of her face; + From her, a wedding garment + Would win a grace. + + And as the glow of moonrise + Will make the east divine, + Doth Soul, the radiant dweller, + Her face outshine. + + + + +AFTER ALL. + + + I would not now give up one hurt, + In this far light of morning; + Each one a rose, a blood-red rose, + A rose for my adorning. + + Yes, and the pallor of old grief, + Too lowly even for scorning, + Is warmed into a breathing rose, + A rose for my adorning. + + + + +VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER. + + + I love my little gowns; + I love my little shoes, + All standing still below them, + Set quietly by twos. + + All day I wear them careless, + But when I put them by + They look so dear and different, + And yet I don’t know why. + + My oldest one of all,— + Worn out; and then the best; + But that I have not worn enough + To love it, like the rest. + + The dimity for Sunday, + The blue one and the wool, + Now that I see them hanging up, + Are somehow beautiful. + + Of all the white, with ribbons + Gray-green, if I could choose; + The fichu that helps everything + Be gay; and then, my shoes. + + My shoes that skip and saunter, + And one that will untie:— + They look so funny and so young, + I hate to put them by. + + I wonder,—if some day ... + All this will be the Past?— + Poor Hop-the-brook and Dance-with-me, + They cannot always last! + + + + +THE TOP OF THE MORNING. + + + My days are strung in amber + Till I am sad again: + My days are full of sunlight + Beyond all sun or rain. + + My heart is full of tidings + From every wind that blows; + And I cannot say, ‘Good-day to you,’ + But everybody knows! + + + + +FORETHOUGHT. + + + I did not keep the Rose he brought, + After its day; + Although it lived a longer time + Than other roses may. + + I let it go the way of all, + For this one fear: + Because it might persuade my heart + That he was growing dear. + + But now my heart is well assured; + And I still sing; + And no one here would ever know + That I miss anything! + + + + +UNSAID. + + + Ah lad, if I could only say + The smiles are not for you! + But since your eyes are turned this way, + What is there I can do? + It’s one I see beyond, beyond, + My heart is leaning to. + + I know, I know, the whole hour long + I have been dull and sad, + And answered not the word at all + I meant to answer, lad; + Because my wits were gone astray + With all the heart I had. + + And now the latest ones are come, + And he is coming too; + And I would keep the starlight back, + But oh, it will shine through! + And since you never turn to see, + You take it all to you. + + + + +DANCE-TIME. + + + It’s I live in a very wise Town, + As all wise people know: + They read, they write, they read all day + As orchard-trees do grow. + + Said I,—I was a young thing then, + And a foolish young thing, too,— + ‘I will not spend my little life thus; + There’s much I’d rather do. + + ‘For I would rather look at you + This way, with happy looks, + Than lose the stars from my two eyes + With poring over books. + + ‘I’d rather far be red and white + For stupid folks to see + Than write nine books for little dull worms + To eat them, leisurely. + + ‘And I would rather have it said + When all my days are through, + “O she was good to see and hear + And say Good-morning to!” + + ‘When learning makes you white and red + And fresh as west-winds blow, + I may spend sun and candle-light + To learn what they all know. + + ‘But O, the wise in this wise Town, + They have no longer prime. + And there are fewer wise men, now, + Than once upon a time!’ + + + + +THE ENCHANTED SHEEP-FOLD. + + + The hills far-off were blue, blue, + The hills at hand were brown; + And all the herd-bells called to me + As I came by the down. + + The briars turned to roses—roses + Ever we stayed to pull + A white little rose, and a red little rose, + And a lock of silver wool. + + Nobody heeded,—none, none; + And when True Love came by, + They thought him nought but the shepherd boy. + Nobody knew but I! + + The trees were feathered like birds, birds; + Birds were in every tree. + Yet nobody heeded, nobody heard, + Nobody knew, save we. + + And he is fairer than all,—all. + How could a heart go wrong? + For his eyes I knew, and his knew mine, + Like an old, old song. + + + + +YES, LOVE IS BLIND. + + + Truly, Love is blind. + All my wish and will, + That he takes for me: + Sure Love cannot see, + That he thinks so, still! + + Truly, Love is blind; + But he hears, instead. + He hath such fine ears, + Far away he hears + Little words unsaid. + + Truly, Love is blind; + For the merest touch, + Hover of a breath, + Smiling underneath, + He will take for much. + + Blind, and without fear! + Even so, I find + He would have me here + Always, very near. + Truly, Love is blind. + + + + +THE MORNING WAS SO BRIGHT. + + + The morning was so bright to see, + I thought that he would come, + Though he is far away from me + While I bide on at home. + + The morning was so wide, so blue; + The tide ran in to greet:— + It could not be, I knew, I knew, + But O, the wind was sweet! + + There was a ripple on the pond; + The road had one refrain; + And something called me, just beyond + The turn of every lane. + + The trees were trying not to sing; + They beckoned on and on: + The day went by with promising, + And now the day is gone. + + The after-glow, it fades away + With my own Star above;— + And all the day, and all the day, + I looked for my true love. + + + + +THE TWO. + + + And if they faltered in their speech, + They knew not; for their eyes + Grew like with gazing, each on each, + Like deep of sea and skies. + + + + +AFTER-THOUGHT. + + + ‘But I was happy then, + How happy was I then!’ + The sorry saying you may hear + Upon the lips of men. + + To know when you are happy, + You would not call it wise; + Yet, for the seeing happiness, + How tears will clear the eyes! + + They laugh best who laugh last, + Says Pride that fears a fall. + But O, who will not laugh at first + May never laugh at all! + + + + + OTHERS. + + + + +NEAR AND FAR. + + + Near and far, near and far, + All the lights were keeping + Quiet watch with lamp and star, + While the roads were sleeping. + + And I saw, far and near: + Starlight overhead; + While a woman’s shadow, here, + Made to-morrow’s bread. + + Near and far; and I forgot + Stars must needs be small: + Lamp and shadow, knowing not, + Did so fold them all. + + + + +FRIENDS ALL. + + + Little Kathleen, when I was ill, + Offered the mass for me; + And burned a holy candle, too + As white as wax could be. + Little Kathleen, I think of her,— + It may be once a year,— + When houses sweeten with the fir + And bells ring out good cheer! + + Hejà! But it is good to live + And walk brown earth once more; + And good to hear your fingers knock + At some familiar door.— + And O, to see them all again, + To see them,—though they say, + ‘And did you take a journey, then? + And were you long away?’ + _O, did you take a journey, then? + And were you long away?_ + + + + +VANTAGE. + + + The wisest finding that I have + Is very young, no doubt. + Yet many a man must needs grow old + Before he finds it out. + + How happily it comes about— + And I was never told!— + That we must all be young awhile, + Before we can be old. + + + + +A SONG OF SOLOMON. + + + King Solomon was the wisest man + Of all that have been kings. + He built an House unto the Lord: + And he sang of creeping things. + + Of creeping things, of things that fly, + Or swim within the seas; + Of the little weed along the wall; + And of the Cedar-trees. + + And happier he, without mistake, + Than all men since alive. + God’s House he built; and he did make + A thousand songs and five. + + + + +COUNSEL TO BEGGARS. + + + O, came you by the same road too, + The road that called to me? + And fellow-farers, will you learn + What shelter there may be? + + There’s daybreak there to fill your heart + Red wine for half the way; + And gold there is of sunset, then, + To last another day. + + (And fill your pockets with the same + Altho’ your need be small. + Take all the bounty while you may, + To have some wherewithal.) + + And if you see the new moon, + I bid you tell the news, + And lend the slender silverness + For other poor to use. + + And if your heart be sudden light, + And yet you know not why, + I counsel you to hold the joy; + Let pride of woe go by. + + And if your feet be wearied out, + And you would rest therefore, + Seek out some house; but look you leave + Your sandals at the door. + + For you shall find—tho’ sad to find + Where houses be so few— + Your too-much sorrow irks a friend, + If ever it irkèd you! + + Take heart. And if the open air + No shelter seem to be, + Yet there you shall—and only there— + Have all that you can see. + + + + +THE TWA CHEERLESS. + + + Eh, is there nothing doing? + Then give your soul good heed; + And show yourself the miracles + That you would like to read, + As long as you’re in need. + + And then suppose I sing myself + —And if you will, give ear,— + The very song I never heard, + But I would like to hear: + And this, man, will be cheer! + + + + +THE WALK. + + + We left the house, for we were sad, + To talk of all the griefs we had; + + And little did we talk at first, + Leaving to silence all the worst. + + The rain it rained and star was none; + The wet made two lights out of one. + + And broken paths of shining yet + Made on before us, through the wet. + + The more we walked and still would walk, + The less did seem the need of talk. + + The more we walked from light to light, + The wiser grew the troubled night. + + The tacit lamps proved something clear + As often as one stayed to hear: + + And better ways, and endless clews + Dawned with the lengthening avenues. + + Till where the street-ends met the square, + We found a thousand tulips there, + + Sleeping as flowers sleep o’nights, + Beneath a thousand city-lights. + + And then the Bridge from shore to shore + Solved everything forevermore, + + So clearly, you could leave the Why, + Contented, to some by-and-by. + + And time, and grief, were worn away + Till there was nothing left, to say. + + + + +REFRAINS. + + + ‘I love all the world to-day!’ + _That is very young._ + ‘So I sing, the while I may.’ + _All the songs are sung._ + ‘God would never say me nay.’ + _Heed the foolish tongue!_ + + ‘There’s a singing in the tree,’— + _All the songs are sung._ + ‘Nightingales! Oh, could it be?’ + _Heed the foolish tongue!_ + ‘And the new moon smiles at me.’ + _Ah, the moon is young!_ + + + + +OUTSIDE THE MUSIC. + + + Now they come, and now they stop, + Now they all go in. + Now the coaches drive away; + And now it must begin. + + All their faces looked the same, + Every time before. + If I heard it, I should know + More and more and more. + + If I heard it, I would sing, + When I went away. + I would sing it till I grew + Beautiful, some day. + + O, I hear a whiff of it; + There’s another one;— + And the coaches driving up, + After it’s begun! + + + + +THE FAIREST. + + + The fairest thing that men have made, + My lad, it is a Ship, + O, beautiful beyond the white + Wild bird she would outstrip! + So beautiful, so beautiful, + A heart must leap to bless, + And after her the wake of foam + Stay white with happiness. + + And fairer than all things beside, + My maid,—a Violin; + Nay, aught that will give out again + The music hid within. + Or pipe or string or hollow shell, + It breaks enchanted sleep, + To win awhile the faëry heart + Of air that none may keep. + + But all of you who may not go + To sail upon the sea,— + Who wait upon another’s whim + For hope of melody,— + Oh, bless your hunger and your thirst, + And give your spirit wings + To speed beyond a narrow door + The heart that sails and sings! + + + + +THE CHILD AND THE ANGEL. + + + Oh, is it you at evening, + And near enough to speak? + And early in the morning, + Your breath upon my cheek? + + And when the city noises + Turn into clouds that sing, + Is it your veil around me, + Of hush, and wondering? + + And is it you, at sunset, + Who beckon me apart + Till I am something golden, + With petals in my heart? + + Ah, Dearness, somewhere over! + A happy child is this + That with shut eyes uplifted, + Waits for you with a kiss. + + + + +READING FOR THE POOR. + + + Young Pity passed us in the street. + Her eyes were like a brook; + And golden leaf and shadow bird + Darkened and lit her look. + + Her hair was like the meadow-marsh + That reaches to the sea; + And on her cheek a wild-rose glowed, + The timely rose for me! + + Young Pity never knew the word + She gave to men in need, + All clear and simple, in her face, + For working ones to read. + + + + +THE BLIND ONE. + + + O hide your eyes, my maiden, + And tell your heart to hush; + For love is very bright to see, + And louder than a thrush. + And all adream you wander + Alone in crowded ways, + Where eyes of all the fools and wise + Do follow, wide agaze! + + Yet all in vain, my maiden, + To shadow eyes like these; + They shine behind your fingers + Like starlight through the trees. + So dream and shine among us, + Unwitting of the boon,— + How all the eyes, of fools and wise, + Are grateful to the Moon. + + + + +HOLIDAY. + + + When I am far from joy of this, + In yon thick world of men, + O, save me—save me, world of blue!— + That I shall thirst for then. + + And when the little strength is spent + And little hope burns low, + Blow softly on that tortured flame, + —Fresh air from long ago! + + + + +THE FOOL. + + + O what a Fool am I!—Again, again, + To give for asking: yet again to trust + The needy love in women and in men, + Until again my faith is turned to dust + By one more thrust. + + How you must smile apart who make my hands + Ever to bleed where they were reached to bless; + —Wonder how any wit that understands + Should ever try too near, with gentle stress, + Your sullenness! + + Laugh, stare, deny. Because I shall be true,— + The only triumph slain by no surprise: + True, true, to that forlornest truth in you. + The wan, beleaguered thing behind your eyes, + Starving on lies. + + Build by my faith; I am a steadfast tool: + When I am dark, begone into the sun. + I cry, ‘Ah Lord, how good to be a Fool:— + A lonely game indeed, but now all done; + —And I have won!’ + + + + +DRUDGE. + + + I waited long until the sky + Should give me of its blue + To weave and wear, and share, and weave + The very stars into. + The days they went, the years they went, + And left my hands instead + Another thing for wonderment, + —The mending, and the bread. + + Ah me, and one must set a hand + To burnish up the task, + And hush and hush the old demand + A wakeful heart will ask. + But with a star’s clear eye on me, + O, I can hear it said, + ‘What souls there be, that only see + The mending, and the bread!’ + + + + +THE YOUNGEST DRYAD. + + + What were you seeking? For my heart + Woke at your step and heard; + The farthest wakeful leaf of me, + And the hidden nest of the midmost tree + Hushed with its hidden bird. + Ah, but the rune imprisoned me + Till you should speak one word. + + Why did you think the spell that drew + Fell from the cedar there? + You questioned pine and sister pine, + Lingered near ash and wild-grape vine, + —Doubted the maidenhair; + Ever you missed these eyes of mine + Too like the twilight air. + + The Sun may call the dew to him, + The waters call the deer; + But O, my roots bind every limb + To hold me hid, apart and dim + And silent, and so near;— + And every leaf of me abrim— + With that you shall not hear. + + + + +COME BUY! + + + The flowers knew her through the frost, + Their own true-lover. + Rose crowding rose, the color crossed; + The silver breath could hover + Near and far, poor lover! + + They wondered at her through the pane, + And through December. + And then she went her way again, + —Eyes trying to remember. + Have your day, December! + + + + +PRINCE CHARLIE. + + + O had you died upon the field + That was so grim to plough, + The tears had blinded every eye + That sharpens on you now. + + For death had been a glorious gift, + With all you had to give, + And kinder than we stay-at-homes; + But ah, you had to live! + + + + +THE MEETING. + + + ‘Good-morning to you, then.’ + (O stricken heart of her! + Silence, silence, breathe for me + A little breath of myrrh.) + + ‘And so good-by again; + Good-by, if you must go.’ + (Go after, little shade of me, + And tell her that I know.) + + + + +THE COBBLER. + + + A little cloud in a golden veil + At setting of the sun: + And I a cobbler working—working; + Work is never done. + + A little cloud in a golden veil; + And I am mending shoes, + Never a feathered sandal thing + Such as a cloud may use. + + A little cloud in a golden veil, + Along the bright highway: + And but for her, to-morrow were + Another yesterday. + + And this will stay, tho’ she melt away + After the moon sets sail. + For no man’s sky is always gray, + —Cloud in a golden veil. + + + + +MIRACLE. + + + Love came by in bitter need. + Oh, but I was sad! + Love stood by in bitter need, + And I nothing had. + + Empty were the hands I held + Silently to Love. + Empty, as my heart of words, + Stared the sky above. + + Lo, Love took—and thankfully— + All my wish for true; + Then my hands gave back to me, + Full of kisses too. + + + + +OPEN HOUSE. + + + My home is not so great; + But open heart I keep. + The sorrows come to me, + That they may sleep. + + The little bread I have + I share, and gladly pray + To-morrow may give more, + To give away. + + Yes, in the dark sometimes + The childish fear will haunt: + How long, how long, before + I die of want? + + But all the bread I have, + I share, and ever say, + To-morrow shall bring more + To give away. + + + + +O SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP! + + + Do not dream of me. + Nay, without mistake, + Even for love’s sake + And all heedfully; + Do not dream of me. + + All day long am I + Leal to all you ask: + Wish and care and task, + Every need come nigh;— + Still to serve and try. + + But with my Good-night, + O unrippled sleep! + What is here, should keep + This bewildered light + From its skyward right? + + Let me feel no need; + Not a love that clings. + Let me have my wings; + Love my wings indeed: + Give my wings godspeed! + + Do not dream of me. + Waking, I’ll be human;— + Call it child or woman. + Sleeping, I would be + Only Something Free. + + + + +THE CLOUD. + + + The islands called me far away, + The valleys called me home. + The rivers with a silver voice + Drew on my heart to come. + + The paths reached tendrils to my hair + From every vine and tree. + There was no refuge anywhere + Until I came to thee. + + There is a northern cloud I know, + Along a mountain crest. + And as she folds her wings of mist, + So I could make my rest. + + There is no chain to bind her so + Unto that purple height; + And she will shine and wander, slow, + Slow, with a cloud’s delight. + + Would she begone? She melts away, + A heavenly joyous thing. + Yet day will find the mountain white, + White-folded with her wing. + + As you may see, but half aware + If it be late or soon, + Soft breathing on the day-time air, + The fair forgotten Moon. + + And though love cannot bind me, Love, + —Ah no!—yet I could stay + Maybe, with wings forever spread, + —Forever, and a day. + + + + +THE RAVENS. + + + My eyes are blind with dust; + My limbs are dull with pain: + But my body shall up and after me, + Again—again—again. + + They hover and wheel above. + Where I creep on, they fly; + And with their call and vaunt of life, + They tempt my soul to die. + + And the numbness of my heart, + The length I have to go, + The dimness of my starving sight, + They know, they know, they know! + + But the little spark I hold + Shall light me farther on + After the gleam—like a far-off stream,— + Until that, too, is gone. + + _Mirage—mirage—mirage!_ + But I say, I will not die + For the hoarse Despairs that wait, that poise, + —And I creep while they do fly. + + No wonder they stoop so low; + And no wonder they should scoff + With Ah and Ah!—and beak and claw, + As they let me beat them off. + + For there is no path to see. + But after the vanished flag + My soul has gone; and after me, + Body must strive and lag. + + Up with you,—follow; come— + Whither my face is set. + They would have us dead: but I have said, + Not yet,—not yet,—not yet! + + + + +NEIGHBORS. + + + ‘Who found for you the waters that soothed your heart-break first?’ + ‘Oh, who but these, my Sorrow, my Hunger and my Thirst!’ + + ‘Who made your eyes the wiser to hail the farthest star?’ + ‘Who but my Dark I thanked not,—the Dark where no lamps are!’ + + ‘And I come singing, Neighbor, to tell you, where you grieve. + And though my song bled, bled afresh,—yet would you not believe.’ + + + + +THE MORNING SOUL. + + + O little cripple, with the lovely eyes, + What have we done to thee?— + For all our wisdom, putting out thy gleam, + Crying, ‘Thou seest not, it is a dream!’ + Against thy cry, ‘I see.’ + + O little cripple with the lovely eyes, + What have we now to show? + With vext perpetual ways past finding out, + Teaching thee well the hundred things of doubt, + Who saidest once, ‘I know.’ + + O little cripple with the lovely eyes, + That music of the Sphere + We only sought to bind for thee secure + Some day, if it were true, for thee too sure + Rejoicing with, ‘I hear!’ + + O little cripple with the lovely eyes, + Flower of the broken stalk, + Have pity on our need, for it is sore,— + Of thee, thee only,—thee to go before; + Rise up, rise up, and walk! + + + + +THE HILL-TOP. + + + ‘Look down upon thy grief.’—O heart of mine, + That path alone climbed here! + + ‘Look down upon thy fear.’—O heart of mine, + That cloud-shadow, my fear! + + ‘Look down on thy desire.’—And could it shine, + That sorry fallen ember? + + ‘Ah, in the valley yonder, child of mine, + Wilt thou remember?’ + + + + +THE DOVES. + + + The doves fly out, the doves fly in, + Brighter than cloud above, + From thee to me, and again to thee, + Out of my heart, O Love. + + My heart is troubled and hushed with wings + From the deep, beneath, above; + And the hovering flight of more white things + Than Earth hath the gladness of. + + After one call they follow, all;— + Thy call to me, O Love: + Lightning out of the blue, but mine + In the likeness of the Dove. + + + + +FOUND. + + + O, when I saw your eyes, + So old it was, so new, the hushed surprise: + After a long, long search, it came to be, + Home folded me. + + And looking up, I saw + The far, first stars like tapers to my awe, + In the dim hands of hid, benignant Powers, + At search long hours. + + And did they hear us call, + That they have found us children after all? + And did you know, O Wonderful and Dear, + That I was here? + + + + +ALL HAIL. + + + O, Blessed of the dark, we meet along an unknown sky; + And here within the light of you, how beautiful am I! + + The other worlds are dim around, beneficent with night. + But I—I turn my face to you, and have no other sight. + + So poising radiant, strong with joy, in desert air divine, + One star doth to another call, and we belovèd shine. + + We shine transfigured, shine, to know beyond all hope made wise, + The echo, echo of All Hail, from new-illumined eyes. + + Who know not what your glory is, nor why my looks are bright, + I lean to you, I call to you, I shine with you, my light. + + + + +THE ANOINTED. + + + I was a little gleaner + Of all the days would yield, + When wonder overtook me + At work within the field. + + The stars they gathered round me + Holding their torches high. + They cried, ‘Behold the chosen!’ + And it was none but I. + + They hailed me royal, kindred, + And made me understand + With gifts of light and darkness + They gave into my hand. + + And here the wonder holds me + Though voices all are gone, + Here in the brimming silence, + With this to think upon. + + The kiss upon my forehead + Forevermore is mine. + The sweetness fills my heart up; + The tears make all things shine. + + + + + EPILOGUE. + + + + +TO THE EVENING STAR. + + + Yes, and you come, you come. Soft piercing through + The luminous fair pallor of the west; + Budded in light and blooming manifest + As that first lily of the field may do; + Unshaken by the winds, that all for you + Have made the pathway ready, loveliest, + You come, you look upon us, shining Guest + Of glories that the world is blind unto! + + All hail, from us who work no more, but wait: + From the worn furrows darkened after toil, + And from the Sea; and from all eyes that are. + Hallow our upward looks, and consecrate + These thankful offered savors of the soil + With the one lovingkindness of a Star. + + + + +TO HER BOOK. + + + I kiss you once for luck, + That you may feel no care. + I kiss you thrice for love + That you must spend and share. + Go now, and wheresoe’er + A heart shall take you in, + It is your very kin: + Make music there. + +[Illustration: [Fleuron]] + + + + + =The Riverside Press= + CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS + U · S · A + + + + + =Josephine Preston Peabody= + + (MRS. LIONEL MARKS) + + + THE WOLF OF GUBBIO: A Comedy in Three Acts. + THE SINGING MAN. + THE PIPER. + THE BOOK OF THE LITTLE PAST. Illustrated in color. + THE SINGING LEAVES. + MARLOWE: A DRAMA. + FORTUNE AND MEN’S EYES. + OLD GREEK FOLK STORIES. + + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75847 *** |