Poems t^w Arthur S. Bourinot TR :b 1 1 T7 (SfOtmll Uniuetattg ffiibratjj Jtl;a(a, Kent §ork BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 Cornell University Library PR 9299.B77P7 Poems, 3 1924 013 515 287 The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 351 5287 Poems By Arthur S. ^ourinot (Author of Laurentian Lyrics) Price One Dollar TORONTO THE T. H. BEST PRINTING CO. 1921 R4*^x^^b COPYRIGHT, CANADA, 1921 By Arthur S. Bourinot, Ottaira, Canada ACKNOWLEDGEMENT The following poems have appeared in The Cana- dian Magazine : "Autumn Silence", "When Peace Has Come", "Epitaph", "Night", "Freiburg Camp", "The Old Indian", "Canada's Fallen". "Canada's Fallen" was awarded the Governor-General's prize (Veterans class), in The Canadian National Literary Competi- tion, 1919. "Autumn Silence" has appeared in Mr. J. W. Gar- vin's "Canadian Poets". "Trek Song", "Night on the Ottawa Kiver", "Can- ada's Fallen", and "The Snake Fence", have been published in the "Current Poetry" page of The Liter- ary Digest. A. S. B. 433 Daly Avenue, Ottawa. ' ' The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched." — Thoreau. TO NORA CONTENTS Page Night on the Ottawa Rivek - - - 7 Canada's Fallen - - 8 When Peace Has Come 9 Trek Song.. - - - 10 A Wish - 12 Autumn Silence 13 Vacancies - - 14 Spring, 1916 - 16 France - - 17 To John Masefield 18 Moon that Shines To-Night - 19 Revelation 20 Night at Holzminden - 21 Loneliness - 22 Proof 23 The Western Hills - 24 The Old Indian 26 epitajph 29 Home Song 30 Freiburg Camp - 31 Christmas at Holzminden, 1917 32 A Civilian Prisoner's Funeral 33 Dreaming 34 Keats - - - 35 Rondeau 36 Nocturne - - 37 Inevitability - 38 LUiAcs - - 39 Invocation 40 The Snake Fence 42 Recollections - - 43 A Prayer in Time of Peace - 47 NIGHT ON THE OTTAWA RIVER T^OWN the river slowly drifting -*-^ Float the rafts of river-men, While the light is slowly shifting Backward o'er the hills again. 'Mid the silence rings their singing, Voicing low the old refrain. But the chanson gay beginning Ends "Mironton, mirontaine ". Now the myriad lights are glowing Whitely where the city sleeps. While the plashing drip of rowing Upward from the river creeps. Low the waters murmur falling, Moaning through the Chaudiere, Like a whispered, ghostly calling. Voicing deep their wild despair. Fade the distant voices singing. Faint recurs the low refrain, Still the chanson gay beginning, Dies "Mironton, mirontaine". CANADA'S FALLEN TTLrE who are left must wait the years' ' ' slow healing, Seeing the things they loved, the life they lost — The clouds that out the east come, huge, con- cealing The angry sunset, burnished, tempest- tossed. How will we bear earth's beauty, visions, wonder. Knowing they loved them in the self -same way — Th' exulting lightning followed by deep thunder, Th' exhilaration of each dawning day? Banners of northern lights for them loom greener. Waving as waves the sea- weed's stream- ered head; Where bent the swaying wheat, the sun- burned gleaner Will find in their remembrance flowers of red. Oh, life must be immortal for their sake : Oh, earth will rest them gently till they wake. 8 WHEN PEACE HAS COME TIT" HEN peace has come, and I return ~ ^ from France, I know the places that I'll long to see : Those hunch-backed hills so full of old ro- mance, Where first frail Beauty's visions dawned for me. And April comes, swift, dancing like a girl, With golden tresses flowing in the breeze, And where swart, autumn leaves disport and whirl. In maudlin dance beneath the naked trees. And I shall see the cottage on the hill. With all the loveliness of summer days. Whose memories to me are haunted still By love's sweet voice, the witchery of her ways. And I shall climb the path and ope the gate, When peace has come, if peace comes not too late. Vendome, France, 1916. w TREK SONG ''HEN the snow has left the hollows And the birds are flying North, When the winds are warm with April and the rain, Oh, it's then the footsteps falter and the weary eyesight follows The ways that to the wilderness lead forth. Then the heart longs for the river With its chanting choral song And the chain of inland waters without end. Oh, it's then the pulses quicken and the nerves are all aquiver To take the trail and trek among the strong. And the fellowship of faring Is the lure that wills you on With the call to which you never answer no. So it's then you'll take the highroad and the free road, never caring. And life will lead you out to meet the dawn. 10 Wlien the wilderness is calling To the broad, untrodden floor, And the heart responds with fervor to the wind. Oh, it's then you'll sing the trek song, to the lilt of water falling. And Wanderlust will open wide the door. Holzminden, 1918. II A WISH Q AD death will come for one of us some ^ day, And standing on the threshold, enter by The portal which was once the wondrous way The wings of Love were wont to flutter nigh — And O, my love, when he has entered thus, I only ask that I shall be the one He chooses, when he comes to sunder us Until we meet beyond the mortal sim. Holzminden, 1917. 12 AUTUIiiN SILENCE TIJOW still the quiet fields this autumn -"■' day, The piled up sheaves no more retain their gold, And ploughmen drive their horses o'er the mould, While up into the hills and far away . The white road winds to where the sun's last ray Mantles the heavens in a scarlet fold Of glorious colour, of radiance untold. And then the twilight turns the red to gray. How still the quiet fields this autumn eve ; And yet we know that here, in other lands, Red war still causes mothers' hearts to grieve And lives are spent as countless as the sands. O God, we ask that Thou wilt put to flight The shadows of this quiet autumn night. RocklifFe Damp, 1915. 13 VACANCIES "Such a sleep, they sleep, the men I loved. "—Tennyson. np HEY are not here, tlie comrades of our -■■ childliood, Close friends of college days, They have left us like creatures of the wild- wood For other ways. And we must climb with comrades new the mountains. The highways loved of youth. And seal in us the welling of the fountains Of sorrow, ruth. O we will feel the beauty of the places That haunted so their hearts ; O we will miss the friendship of the faces The silence parts. But ever midst the laughter or the sorrow We must remember how, They also lived with hoping for the morrow As we do now. 14 And often 'neath the star light of the vast- ness Often we will recall, How they too loved the silence of the fast- ness Where shadows fall. And in their hearts the wistful love of beauty In shy and silent life, Was silenced when the summons came to duty And grief was rife. To us their youth is wondrous as the eagle In ever heightening flight, They will awake the visions of the regal In darkest night. They are not here the comrades of our child- hood. Close friends of college days, They have left us like creatures of the wild- wood For other ways. Holzmdnden, June, 1918. 15 SPRING, 1916. HOW well I know that in the months to be Pale Proserpine will blow the buds to fire, And frost-bound hills wiU don their new attire ; Along the lanes the poet's eye will see A dash of blue where swift the bluebirds flee. And all the world will rouse at Love's desire. And Winter at her bidding will retire. But all this beauty will be lost to me. Sweet April and the red-lipped, dream-eyed May Will wander through the meadows with the breeze, But how can Love and Beauty bear the day When death and sorrow reign across the seas'? Sad thoughts wiU still my heart to old delights, And blind mine eyes to former beauteous sights. 16 FRANCE TN France the fields are brown with new turned earth, The trees stand bare and gaunt before the breeze, Which blows across the country mad with mirth With wailings through the silhouetted trees. The long roads reach across the furrowed ground And silence holds the land within her spell; The creaking carts of peasants homeward bound Jolt towards Vendome's ringing vesper beU. A Poilu in his coat once splendid blue, Trudges to his home, returned on leave, And all seems peace and quiet; O how few Would think within this land that many grieve. O France, thy strength lies not in boast or show But silence is thy grandeur, sure and slow. Patris, OhTistmas, 1916. 17 TO JOHN MASEFIELD (After reading Ms "Sonnets and Poems".) ~ T TOO have searched for Beauty in this life, ■'■ For loveliness amongst the woes of men, The spark of joy which shines from out the strife, The will-o '-wisp's white dancing o'er the fen; To find the spur which urges, goads the soul To toil through depths to greater height^ above Where Beauty is the mighty, final goal And roads to Beauty run through vales of love. I too have sought the guerdon hard to gain, Elusive river sweeping to the sea, But well I know a glimpse is worth the pain Of seeking that which ever seems to flee, Beauty, thou hast one disciple more. Another traveller knocking at thy door ! BralmslK)«t Caaup, 1916. 18 O MOON THAT SHINES TO-NIGHT r\ MOON that shines to-night, ^^ So softly whitely, bright, Come to me over the hills of light Over the hills of dream. Into the land of love's delight, Out of the everlasting night, Over the hills of dream. O moon that shines to-night With softly whitening light, Bring to me beauteous dreams and bright Over the hills of rest ; Bearing the wished and longed-for sight Out of the everlasting night Over the hills of rest. Holaminden, 1918. 19 REVELATION T SAW you standing midst the golden rod ■*■ That filled the fields with swaying dew- lit ore, And marvellous was the message that you bore Standing alone amid the flowers of Grod. For Beauty dawned for me as at the nod Of old magician learned in ancient lore And ever after Beauty more and more Kept calling from the boundless spaces broad. And sometimes when the path of life loomed steep Or bitterness seemed doomed to fill the day This memory came as turn the tides that creep Back to the solitude of shore and bay; And sorrow fled as the renascent sweep Of recollection glorified the day. 20 NIGHT AT HOLZMINDEN 1918 'T^HE drummer sounds the summons to our room, The light-encircled spiel-platz soon lies bare And desolate, except where buildings loom. Limning their shadows on the vacant square. A gramophone grinds out a raucous song, And boisterous laughs resound along the halls ; Now comes the muffling silence, slowly throng The multitude of stars where darkness faUs. Inside the room stentorian breathings sound. Or preparations made for nightly rest ; Without the windows silence sleeps pro- found; Now comes the moon above the far hill's crest. Asleep the buildings seem in paUid light ; Adream, we prisoners pass the peaceful night. 21 LOE^ELINESS T COULD not sleep last night for won- ■*■ drous, pale, The waning moon rose through a maze of blue, Out of a void beyond our human hail. And all the sleepless hours I longed for you. For vibrant through the mystery of the night, Swift surging irom the past departed years. There swept the consciousness of lost delight The loneliness and longing nothing clears. Soft distant sounds of night revived the past. For sleep denied the obliAdon of her veil, Bestowing thoughts of you, until the last Lone star was dimmed, until the East grew pale. I could not sleep last night and with the morn Returned the dull routine that must be borne. Holzminden, D'ecemiher, 1917. 22 PROOF OMEN" who question Immortality Behold the loveliness of earth and sky And learn that life is not futility But promises the spirit will not die. I know from my brave comrades gone be- fore That life must be -for more than earthly length, And death is but the swiftly opened door Leading to higher aims and greater strength. 23 THE WESTERN HILLS /^WESTWARD to low lying hills, ^-^ westward o'er the sea, To where the roads are white with dust, the uplands hazed with heat, To places where my heart would be, the winds are calling me, O westward where my sweetheart waits, westward shall we meet. The roads of other lands are long, and for- eign lands are fair. The winds with blossoms scented are, and though the hills are high, I'd sooner tread low lying hills whose sum- mits purple wear All cloaked with mist at break of day en- shrouded by the sky. O some there are who love the sea, all studded white with sails. And others 'neath the tropic sun to live and die may choose ; But give to me the western hills when tired daylight fails And casts across the western skies innum- erable hues. 24 So when the last war bugle's blown and flags of flame are furled, I'll follow then the lure that wills my feet toward the west, For westward in the hills there waits the heart of all the world. And so I'll take the road once more and reach the hills of rest. Freiburg,. October, 191T. 25 THE OLD INDIAN WE walked one morning in the long ago To see the ancient Indian's camping- place Where he had spent so many summer days In quietness, companioned by the trees And blue lake water lapping wooded shores, And dreams of deeds and prowess in the past. The path we took meandered forest aisles, Long vistas vanishing in traceried green, Winding across a fairy-trodden glade Where wild, red roses bloomed for our de- Ught And stalwart grew a gnarled old apple tree. We loitered through sunned meadows mil- hon-flowered. To pick the golden-rod or watch a hawk Wheeling across the sky with sleepy wing, Seeing the wild hare feeding furtive-eyed Vanish amid the fern-leaved undergrowth. We found the Indian stretched upon the plank Serving as bed and only resting-place, 26 While o 'er his head the overturned canoe Fashioned the roof and shelter from the rain. Wizened and gaunt he was and poorly clad, With weather-beaten face whose dignity Was deepened by the length of lonely years And solitude in the .blue Laurentian hills. Well I remember how your joyousness And eager, shy, expectant wonderment Recalled to those dim eyes remote, dim days, The, glory, the sweet perishable gleam That whiten with warm magic all the past ; And how your soft voice reassured his heart. Emboldening him to speak of old exploits. The times he lured the fish with lighted torch And speared them in the shadow-haunted streams. Or trailed the restless caribou far north Amid a wilderness of mighty breadth Where Manitou for immemorial years Held sway upon the silent mountain tops. And last he spoke of summer idleness. When those long, langorous, indolent hours Passed leisurely as some deep-laden barge Floats seaward down a sluggish, oozing stream. 27 We took our leave, followed, the homeward path, But often after came to hear the tales He told with guttural voice, in monotone, Until the summer winged her southward way And autumn in tan mantle red inwrought, Wrapped round the hills her vivid gorgeous folds. To-day your letter tells me he is gone To join the company of braves and chiefs Who held the land before our forbears came. And so I wrote these lines commemorative Of that momentous morning long ago. 28 EPITAPH T YING in No Man's Land, he sleeps, ■*-' Sleeps as well as they who rest In the gardens by the sea, In the grave-yards of the west. Sleeping in No Man's Land, he dreams, Dreams of those in other lands ; Friends he left with pensive lips, Those he left with waiting hands. Dreaming beneath a foreign sky. Death was but the evening star, Setting now to rise again Past the Paradisal bar. Lying in No Man's Land, he sleeps, Sleeps as well as they who rest In the gardens by the sea. In the grave-yards of the west. France, 1917. 29 HOME SONG T 'M going back to Canada, To roam the roads of white, Where those old hills so dear to me Rise up to reach the night. I'll see the little lonely lake Asleep amid the hills Whose solitude will re-awake, The rapture absence stills. And one there is who waits for me, Beyond the sunset's flare; O, one there is I'U haste to see. Warm sunlight on her hair. O she will come with wistful eyes Along the well worn path; For us the future will arise A glorious aftermath. So I'll go back to Canada, If Grod thus wills it so, As weary travellers return To lands of long ago. 30 FREIBURG CAMP 1917 TJERE in the shadows of our cloistered ■■- ^ walk, Where all our life is narrowed to a square, We prisoners sit; we sleep or read- or talk, Dreaming of halcyon summers spent else- where. The towering trees strive upward to the sky In semblance of our spirits' liberty. Which lives on recollections ne'er to die, Although the earthly body be not free. And sometimes through the vaulted, cloud- less blue There dives with thundering engine, swift as light, An albatross, all painted, yellow, new. Volplaning housetops, vanishing in flight. Thus do we pass our close-sequestered life, Hoping the hopes of freedom, following strife. 31 CHRISTMAS AT HOLZMINDEN 1917 Y) ESOLATE, dark and dreary ■^'^ The dawning Christmas morn, Desolate, dark and dreary This day that Christ was born. Quietly, slowly, softly. The snow sinks as a cloud. Quietly, slowly, softly. The snow falls like a shroud. Silently, surely, weary, The sentries pace their beat, Silently, surely, weary. The lagging hours we meet. Imprisoned, lonely, hoping. The future is our goal. Imprisoned, lonely, hoping, Time takes of us her toll. 32 A CIVILIAN PRISONER'S FUNERAL (Germany, 1917.) (The British Prisoners of War were interned in a barracks on the outskirts of Holzrmnden. Further out, on the hillside, was a camp where ten thousand French and Belgian civilians of the war area were interned. The road from the civilian camp to the cemetery was plainly visible from the barrack windows.) "IVr OT theirs the ordinary dark display Of carriages, twined flowers and music's moan, But theirs the sadness of a sadder day Abandoned and unutterably alone. Along the stone paved road they slowly walk In costumes nondescript and colorless ; The loveliness of earth appears to mock The anguish hid beneath their pensive- ness. They have no solitude nor silent place To lessen grief by calm assuaging thought. But soon the night with sleep compelling grace Will wrest the mind from worries war has brought. 33 DREAMING T SAW warm sunlight glancing gold on -'■ leaves Which gently swayed and tossed the light that weaves The interlacing shadows on the ground; Once more on uplands lone, wind swept, I found The solitary pine tree standing bare, The sentinel of stillness, earth and air. I dreamed of summer evenings when the hush Of twilight falls amid the odours lush Of lilacs sweet, and 'top the highest tree The vesper sparrow sings his melody When evening draws too swiftly to its close ; And quiet calm and rapturous repose Allayed unrest till dawn with streams of light Dispelled the phantom dreams of fleeing night. 34 KEATS TMMORTAL bard of beauty, Thou, whose pen. Inscribed gold charactry of thought sublime, Revealing all the romance of old time And melancholy gaze of moor and glen; Thy quest for beauty urged thee 'mid the fen Of smirching dust and London's sullen grime To raise for her an altar rich with rhyme. Haunting the visions and the hearts of men. Thy lines remind us of perpetual youth, Of pale nymphs dancing in a phantom light, Singing the song of warm, celestial night, Or tell us of the loneliness of Ruth. The love of beauty has enriched thy name, While truth for guerdon gave the touch of fame. 35 RONDEAU (After the French of Charles D 'Orleans, 1391-1465). np HE world has changed her coverlet ■■■ Of winds that blew so bitterly, Donning her April drapery Of laughing sunlight, flower-inset. And all the birds and beasts now let Their voices praise the panoply: The world has changed her coverlet. The river, fountain, rivulet Disport in jocund livery With drops of silver jewelry: Earth's creatures fairer garments get, The world has changed her coverlet. 36 NOCTURNE \ SHIP that speeds with a crimson sail, -'"*- Aslant on a restless sea, And in my heart the longing That stirs unceasingly. A wind that warms with a perfumed breath Adrift from the dreaming earth, And for my grief no solace But melancholy's dearth. A hush that haunts like a loved one's smile In dreams of departed years, But in the silence sadness And unavailing tears. The night that comes with a bat-like sweep, A moon with the harvest light, But O, the endless yearning For one beyond the night. 37 INEVITABILITY TIT'E all wiU pass the rising and the setting ' '^ Of this our life's short span And with us go remembrance and forgetting The life of man. They reach an end the parting and the meet- ing, Our hopes and fears, and death, And all must greet completion and the fleet- ing Of life's last breath. 38 LILACS np HERE is a window in a house I know •*■ Tlirough which I watched the wind so softly blow The dew-wet lilacs that they swayed as though By spirit moved; to me, at break of day There stole a haunting breath, a roundelay Charming the lattice with the lure of May. And one there was who loved the lilacs too. And so I picked them wet with morning dew And gave them for their beauty's thrilling hue; The lilacs now are dreams of long ago ; Yet still is seen their dew impassioned glow Watched from a window in a house I know. 89 INVOCATION /^ COME once more, calm days of autumn, ^-^ come, To this our land where summer's splendor goes The way of aU the winding, wayward years And life is cool and tranquil, calmly dim. Among the mountains, valleys, woods, move. Thou spirit white of everlasting sleep, Casting the spell of silence, rest and peace And folding wearied hearts unto thy breast. O still the soul of earth with thy repose. Burning the leaves of maple fiery red, Tingeing the hills a raiubow afterglow. And spreading wings o 'ershadowing this our land, O burst the bonds of earth's eternal woe, Leave us no vestige of the vaunted past. When pomp and pageant filled the summer hours. For we are tired of revel, carnival, Wanting the languor, wistful loveliness Which thou dost bring with passiveness be- nign. 40 And we will heap with pine the huge stone hearth Where all the long, dark, solenm autumn eves The resinous logs will render warmth and dreams, And love will haunt the ingle's hushing light O shed around us days with silence dim, Thou spirit white of everlasting sleep. 41 THE SNAKE FENCE T^ AST disappearing emblem of old days -■■ When man first trod the frontier wilderness Sowing the seed which later grew to dress The axe-cleared land, with miles of sunlit maize. Along haphazard windings, zig-zag ways. In April bluebirds flew all azure plumed, Beside the lowest logs the Blood-root bloomed Unconscious of the brilliant noontide blaze. But now the logs lie rotting in the grass Or feed the fires of chill October eves ; Of former landscapes progress only leaves A vestige which eventually will pass. Thus gradually the old-time glamour fades And fading, dies, as wind through forest glades. 42 RECOLLECTIONS TJ" OW long ago it seems since last we met, ■*■ How long ago, but memory sees thee yet, When simlight was awakening the woods And chestnut buds were burgeoning with hoods. How beautiful the earth was on that day! For with her wand, the arch enchantress May Had touched the flowers long lulled in opiate sleep And near the pines th' arbutus 'gan to creep, And spring with mystic minstrelsy had wrought Her magic in the meadows; warm winds brought The susurrus of sounds, foretelling years Replete with songs and laughter, rife with tears ; O spring had found our hearts and planted deep The restlessness the years of youth must reap. Thus was the world and still I see thee stand With parted eager lips and every strand Of dark brown hair that floated from the brim Of thy broad hat and fluttered with the whim Of playful, wastrel winds that passed, de- layed, Then whispered, homeward, westward through the glade. And oft we strayed together in the sun, Pulling the daisies' petals, one by one, Watchiag the river slowly stealing by. Hearing the flicker's rushing, strident cry. Or when the mood would change there 'd come to me Commingling with the season's melody. Half murmured snatches of some ancient song. Ringing through our laughter all the day live-long. "Love in the world of old Fashioned his house with pride Deep in the heart of a wood High on the lone hill-side. Building the laughter and song. Forming the mirth and the fears. Giving the gifts of the heart Into the hands of the years. 44 "Love in the world of old Fashioned his faery shrine, White for the hope of the years Tall as the towering pine; Weaving the shadowy dreams, Dowering the earth with desire, Lifting the soul of man Out of the depths of the mire." And though long years have slowly rolled away Since last we met and since our hearts were gay Yet still I see thee with thy listening smile, At those dim times when we were wont to while The hours away, dream-drifting o'er the lake, Or when we heard the f ar-of£ loon awake The star-lit stillness with its 'verberant cry ■ While echo answered from the hills on high. O aU the world was wondrous in our eyes, Enchanting as the setting sun which dyes The evening heavens crimson, till the night Comes on invisible wings, in silent flight. So came the night of war across the earth And mystic beauty, trembling in her birth, 45 Fled till the glorious sunrise of the world Will flaunt the skies, a flag of peace un- furled. O then will come the marvellous days once more When April laughs outside each open door And love goes roaming gypsy-like and free Among the hills and valleys homewardly. Holzminden, 1917. 46 A PRAYER IN TIME OF PEACE "1^ OW war is done and kultur is laid low ■^ ^ Among unutterable things, we pray And ask, O God, that Thou wilt lay The seed which in the future years will grow The flower of peace, supplanting flowers of woe, Until the world, long wrapped in weary grey, Donning her raiment of eternal May, Will hear no more the flourished trumpet blow. Grant us, O Lord, the gift of open minds, A League of Nations, pledged that war shall cease ; Let wisdom, faith and comradeship increase, Not unforgetful of the ties that bind To those who gave, and giving all, designed A permanent and everlasting peace. Throckley, England, 1919. 47