fyxmll Hlmvmitg ^iUm^ THE GIFT OF ..]NDjU5..\\.0J:\J\Jui:..P..9a^^ kZbZb.^A ^'^^|.^^ .!..2«r __ Cornell University Library PS 2655.P7A17 Poems 3 1924 022 113 033 Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< 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/cu31924022113033 POEMS MARY NEWMARCH PRESCOTT RICHARD G. BADGER THE GOBHAM PBESS BOSTON L, ^ Copyright 19111 by Richard G, Badger All rights reserved I\.?.G^(d'V*^ The Oorhem Press, Boston, V. S. A. To Katharine Preseott MoseUy CONTENTS OvEB A Grave 7 Invocation 8 The Oaten Pipe 11 The Days of a Story I The Scene 12 II At Play 12 III The Joy of Life 13 IV Flower in Hand 14 V The New Wish 15 VI Unrest 15 VII Oh, Hasten, Year 16 VIII FullJunte 16 IX The Choice 17 X In the Dark, In the Dew... 18 XI For You 19 XII StUlforYou 19 Xni A Kiss 20 XIV Summer Weather 21 XV The Whisper 22 XVI Twilight 22 XVII The Message 23 XVIII Content. 24 XIX Spring and Love 24 XX Ecstasy 25 XXI An Answer 26 XXII A Tear 26 XXm Song (1) 27 XXIV The Old Story 28 XXV Dreams 29 XXVI Reverie 29 XXVII Inconstancy 30 XXVIII On the River 31 XXIX Clouds 31 CONTENTS XXX OnceaYear 32 XXXI Toddy 83 XXXn At Pause 34 XXXIII Two Moods 35 XXXIV Last Year 35 XXXV In Sun and Shade 36 XXXVI Change 37 XXXVII Song (2) 38 XXXVIII Another Spring 39 XXXIX In Dusky Alleys 40 XL Lilac Chains 41 XLI Song (3) 41 A Fantasia 43 Soldier's Graves 45 Water Lilies 47 Choral 48 A Lullaby 49 Singing 60 Her First Snow 61 The Valentine 52 Three 53 In the Shower 54 Rest 65 The Mother Bird 56 The Opening Flower 67 An Empty Nest 58 The Golden Rod 60 Turning Brown 61 Thanksgiving 62 Frost Flowers 63 Offerings 64 A Burden 65 Forgetfulness 66 Which is Best? 68 The Confession 69 A Picture 70 6 CONTENTS Caprice 71 Love aud Roses 72 The Pbophect 73 OpPOBTtTNITY 75 The Fakmeh's Lesson 76 Embboideby 77 Thobns and Roses 79 Only a Sob 80 Faith 81 OvBB Seas 82 The Bbook 83 Deeb Island's Evening 84 Wabned 86 When We Webe Young 86 Asleep 87 OVER A GRAVE Though underneath the silent clod Thy body rests — ^thy soul with God Doth mount on wings of prayer and praise To swell the measure of thy days. Even though the grass is tall and green, That grows thy heart and mine between. Even tiiough thy face be hid from me. My Father's will I clearly see. INVOCATION Oh, sweet Romance, let me know If by any rhyme or reason I can woo you, that you blow In my garden every season! Tell me what the soil you need. What cool showers, what April weather; If like any common seed You put up a pale green feather? Though a hundred years are vaunted To perfect the aloe flower. You, dear Romance, most undaunted. Bloom a hundred times an hour. And though bay-leaves crown the brave While the myrtle's for the poet. Plant immortal, I would crave Seed of thee that I might sow it Broadcast, round my wicket-gate, Till — wide-spreading, multiplying, Ingress to dull care denying — I might sit the world defying. Through my mood, my state belying, Learning gayly how to wait. Hark! through all the crystal pauses Breaks the treble of thy leaves; Silverest of silvery noises, Tapping at my cottage eaves. When the wandering winds are tired — Till one more than half believes. Sighs some weary-hearted Dryad Whom the daily sun dteceives. Yet when morn is just beginning To foretell its grand surprise. Through thy boughs what chorus ringing, What chatoyant splendors winging — Splendors caught from sunrise skies Wedded with celestial singingf— Singing birds of Paradise. For me, never, never lonely Days nor nights, if thou wilt only Not delay thy gpring-tide budding. Nor forget the June-day flooding Of my ways with subtlest fragrance. Calling home the wingM vagrants That from memory vanished quite Out of hearing, out of sight. Lose in the- uncertain distance Claim to true shape or existence. Through thy tendrils, sky-aspiring. Leaving little for desiring. Let me hear the tempest's choiring. Mellowed to the flute's respiring: Let the sunbeam's warm embrace With thy being interlace. Leading bjy a shining clew Heavenward to the quiet blue : Let the rainbow's bridge of sighs. Which the earth to heaven allies. Touch thee into a disguise Radiant as the dragon-fly's. Can it be that storms may splinter All thy strength some cruel winter? That some wild and bleak New Year Bring thee but a frozen tear; So when Uttle May winds shiver Thou wilt make no answering quiver Oh, be ever green and growing, No repulse liy spirit knowing! Like ike noble Banyan tree Tenant of the soU, but free! With thy magic seed shed wide On laden west-wind, laden tide, Each ripe harvest loosely cast And borne upon each flying blast. Daily journey everywhere That the great heroic dare. Wandering now to farther Greenland And the coasts of the Unseen land; Into chilliest regions going — Regions of perpetual snowing; Striking latitudes that smile Into summer all the while. Blown across the open sea Of a vast humanity. Where no other plant will flourish Thou thy rarest blossoms nourish! By the merest thread of bliss. By a whisper, by a kiss. Bid thy folded leaves expand, Beautifjring all the land. In thy shade, that sunshine is. Let me taste of happiness; Oh, dear Romance, let me be Evermore at home with thee! 10 THE OATEN PIPE When the musical, piping frogs Begin to croak and chant. In the marshes and in the bogs. In many a sweet spring haunt: I think of the legend, hoaiy. Which little Dutch folk recite, — How the nightingale's soul, says the story. Enters a frog in its flight. And so when I hear the weird catch. Where the frogs alone take part, I fancy I sometimes snatch A strain from the nightingale's heart. 11 THE DAYS OF A STORY THE SCENE Soon the catkin's velvet tassels will be blowing. Soon the brimming brooks will call and shout; And the green grass will be growing, growing. And the crocus buds will all look out; Soon the eager birds will come, with trill and whistle, Little wings a-whirring through the air. Fetching wisp of hay, or down of thistle, Such as last year's harvest had to spare. Soon anemones will show their startled faces, Violets will be pushing towards the light. Soon the leaves will steal into their places. And the fairy frost will take its flight. Soon the dear earth will be set in all her order. Evening heavens bloom with tender spheres. Summer will come blushing o'er the border — Swift and meet her, Love and Joy and Tears! n AT PLAY Yesterday, upon my word. Hunting in the wood for spring, Suddenly I heard a bird Make the drowsy echoes ring. 12 And he sang out, "Surely surely. Lark and thrush are here anon. I have come along so early Just to see how things get on. "Here and there a green leaf's peeping; Far and near the brooks are heard; Nature is not dead or sleeping, Busy she about her word. " Yesterday, upon my honor. When I thought the spring was cold. With her royal robes upon her. Came the crocus through the mould. And she whispered, "Was I dreaming,- Some one seemed to call my name; Was it real? was it seeming? I put on my crown and came. " m THE JOY OF LIFE West wind and sunshine Braided together; What is the one sign But pleasant weather? Birds in the cherry trees. Bees in the clover; Who half so gay as these All the world over? Strawberries in the grass, Roses regretting How soon the summer '11 pass,- Next year forgetting. 13 Buds sighing in their sleep, "Summer, pray grant us Youth, that its bloom may keep Fragrance to haimt us!" Rivers that shine and sing. Sunbeams abetting, — No more remembering Their frozen fretting. Music along the wind, Stm in the showers; What more shall any find In summer hours! IV FLOWER IN HAND The daisy is fine and fair With her golden crown on. And her tangle of lint white hair And her green spring gown on. And morning and Maytime are stored In deep horns of honey — If the bee steal the clover's hoard The days are still sunny. The buttercup holds out her disk. Atop of the grasses. To catch, at her waxen risk The sunbeam that passes. But the dandelion's so bright, One almost might fancy He was fashioned out of tiie light By some necromancy. 14 How softly the south wind curled As it touched me this minute — Oh, how sweet is the world, How good to be in it! V THE NEW WISH Glancing new moon, white new moon, What do you bring in your horn? Silver liglit to paint black night As fair as the eit^rly mom? Shining new moon, sweet new moon, Where did you harvest your rays? In the deeps of dark were you never a spark Till the sun shone along your ways? Sinking new moon, kind new moon. Will my wish come true some day. When you're but a ghost of yoiu"self, at the most. And your glory passes away? VI UNREST Cherry trees begin to blow. The crocus blossomed long «go; But the rose it lingers yet. With its buds alrea4y set. Rose, will you blossom soon, or no? 15 Lilacs all their purple show. Leaves unfold, and grow and grow; But the rose it stays behind. Waiting till the winds are kind. Rose, will you blossom soon, or no? Violets flutter to and fro In the greening woods, I know; Yet a little, little longer Dreams the rose, till suns grow stronger; How long does it take a rose to grow? VII OH, HASTEN, YEAR! Oh, hasten, year, to bring us June, Folded within your dreaming heart Like petals of a rose, that soon The wooing winds will kiss apart. Hasten, sun, across the sl^. Nor make, I pray, a long delay; Let the sweet bloom of daylight die. And twilight stars forbid to stay; Till wreathed in blossoms mom appears. Wasting her fragrance everywhere. And echoes of the chiming spheres Seem pulsing on the summer air. VIII FULL JUNE By soft showers and sunlight fed. Nature's art discloses. 16 Pink and white, and royal red, A world of blushing roses. Wandering at their own sweet will, They paint the dullest places. Or lean across the window-sill With love-compelling faces. Such a grace about them clings. Such an odor hovers. That these wild and wayward things Coimt us all their lovers. Bloom, O roses! rich and sweet; May no worm o'ertake you! Jime is only half complete Till the sunbeams wake you. rx THE CHOICE Swift through the darkness The little boat goes; What is before us, Who cares, and who knows? Low hang the branches That border the stream; Afloat in their shade. Do we wake, do we dream? Could our flight through the twilight Continue for aye. Should we care for the sunhght. Or pine for the day? 17 Should I tire of the language Of beautiful eyes, And weary of melody Written in sighs? If life were but floating By one dear one's side. Should we long for the haven, Or turn of the tide? Still through the shadows We grope to the sea: The world is before us. And I, love, choose Thee! IN THE DARK, IN THE DEW In the dark, in the dew I am smiling back to you. But you cannot see the smile. And you're thinking all tfee while How I turn my face from you. In the dark, in the dew. In the dark, in the dew All my love goes out to you. Flutters like a bird in pain. Dies and comes to life again. While you whisper, "Sweetest, hark. Some one's sighing in the dark. In the dark, in the dew!" In the dark, in the dew. All my heart cries out to you, 18 As I cast it at your feet, Sweet, indeed, but not too sweet. Wondering wUl you hear it beat. Beat for you, and bleed for you. In the dark, in the dew! XI FOR YOU If I were a violet, a sweet, white violet. Waiting for the sun and for the dew. Struggling through the cold springtime. Hard beset with cruel rime, I should surely blow for you. If I were a rose, love, a great red-hearted rose, love. Blushing on my stem, as roses do. After tedious, sad delays, In the first, warm summer days, I would sweeten life for you. If I were a daisy, a golden-hearted daisy, Shining in the field a season through. With my petals you should spell. That I love you, love you well. With my whole heart only you! XII STILL FOR YOU If I were the white and morning star. Shining where the lesser planets are, 19 I would light you through your dreams With my fine and tender beams; You should hear the song that ra;n Through the earth when Peace began. If I were a shell upon the shore I would murmur strange and sweet sea- lore Of fair mermaids that beguile Poor sailors, mile on mile — Of the ocean forests dim. Where strange fishes float and swim. If I were the new and yellow moon I would grant your wishes soon, full soon; I would borrow for your sake Such splendor as would make Constellations fade away Like sad ghosts at break of day. XIII A KISS The day has smouldered in the west. Each bird long since has found its nest; But as for me, I am so blest I can not give myself to rest, Thinking, perforce, of only this — So shght a thing — ^his melting kiss. He paused just here, outside the door; I thought to see his face no more; My heart was aching to the core. "Good-by" — ^he'd said it once before. "Through good-bys many a life's undone. ' 20 I spoke, "Why give me more than one?" He paused and turned, and gave me this — It bums yet on my mouth — ^his kiss! My lips are sacred now henceforth. Perhaps before of Uttle worth; They have grown precious through long dearth And waiting for this crown of earth. What hours I spent, nor dreamed of this. To find my whole world in a kiss! XIV SUMMER WEATHER The com is in tassel, the grass is high. Morning and evening echo with praise, Robins whistle and thrushes reply, Making the most of these hoUdays. The silver birches are laughing out. An emerald plume lifts the sculptiu-ed fern, While thistle-blossoms begin to pout, And the wild red roses begin to bum. Here they come trooping, now, one and all. Larkspur, and bluebell and gay marigold — Had they been waiting the fairy's call To spring from the dusk of the mould? Look — ^the brown sparrow longs not to flutter With wings like the pansy's purple best. Nor the velvet pansy yearns to utter What the sparrow croons over her nest. Steeped in the happy summer weather. Each content with its fortunate dower, 21 Life is enough, no matter whether One be a girl, a bird, or a flower! XV THE WHISPER The birds heard it and straightway trilled it. Through meadow and copse, witii a will; Down in the woodland they whistled and shrilled it, As if they would never be still. The brook listened and caught the measure. Tinkling, tinkling over its bed. And kept repeating at its own wild pleasure. Sweetest words ever were said. The winds, themselves, the burden carried. Set to the tune of the singing rain. And the morning stars in their courses, tarried, To echo the tender strain. Brook, bird and wind, and stars a-singing. The music of all the spheres, O, sweeter then your melodious singing. Was his whisper in my ears. XVI TWILIGHT The twilight gathers fair and fine Above the dimpling stream; The rosy colors shift and shine, 22 And all the shadowy world doth seem The picture of some happy dream. Too soon, from darkening tide and shore, The vision melts away: To p^nt the heavenly spaces o'er No amethystine hues delay, Nor tender rose nor sapphire stay. Yet not a tint will ever fade JVom the heaven where once it shone: Every sweet color liiere inlaid Perpetual has grown Since, in the trembling light, I made You, love, my own my own. XVII THE MESSAGE Tell it, O wind, from morning till night, Whisper it, warble it, sound its delight, And you, O roses, beneath your blushes. Breathe it soon to the listening thrushes. And thrushes, be sure you carol it sweet. Till the echoes, themselves, are fain to repeat? Oh, wandering tide, with your silver fret. Float it wherever your feet are set; And you, O sea, with your thimder tone. Pass it onward, from zone to zone, — And to all the earth the secret tell. That my lover, he loves me, he loves me well! Bend down, O stars, in your shining courses. Lend to my song your eternal forces. Wherever you shine, o'er what worlds divine, 23 Proclaim that his love is mine, is mine. That he loves me a-near, and he loves me apart, Today, and forever, with all his heart! xvin CONTENT I should not care though spring delayed To lure wild flowers from woodland nooks. Though the rose within its calyx staid. And frosts detained the singing brooks. Though leaf nor rain-fed violet Showed where their fragrant feet were set. If you loved me still: should I repine Though spring-time made no sign? I should not care though summer came With shining showers and balmy dew. Filling the world with perfumed flame, With her lilting bards and fairy crew Of rosy petals and wingfed seeds. With all her troop of prankish weeds. If you loved me not : why should I care Though heaven and earth were fair? XIX SPRING AND LOVE The grasses all were lifeless, sere, and dry; Barren the boughs, where leaves had lent their shade; In every empty nest the snow heaped high And water-courses in their flight were stayed; £4 And all the dumb and stricken solitude Was like some undiscovered arctic zone. Where no flower grew, where no bird reared her brood; When presently, in silvery monotone. The frozen streams began to sing their chimes; As by some bold and swift enchantment wrought, Suqh as we read of, in far fairy chmes. The fields and trees with green were overshot; For Spring had come. So, Love, when you are near. You change the whole world's frosty atmosphere. XX ECSTASY What so sweet as summer, When the sky is blue. And the sunbeams' arrows Pierce the green earth through? What so sweet as birds are. Putting into trills The perfume of the wild rose. The murmur of the rills? What so sweet as flowers. Clovers white and red, Where the brown bee chemist Finds its daily bread? What so sweet as sim showers, When the big cloud passes. And the fairy rainbow Seems to touch the grasses? 25 What so sweet as winds are, Blowing from the woods. Hinting in their music Of dreamy solitudes? Bain, and song, and flower, When the summer's shine Make the green earth's beauty Seem a thing divine. XXI AN ANSWER Shall I forget you, when long years have flown And all the loveliness that is your own Has into waste and withered wrinkles grown. And your eye's tremulous magnificence Is but a memory of the failing sense? Ah, while your heart is great, and God is good I cannot, love, forget you, if I would! Shall I forget you? Oh when that shall be, I must have lost the light from land or sea, I miist have closed my eyes eternally! For while my heart beats, or my spirit lives, 'Mid all the hopes that gracious Heaven gives. To love you stiU, as here on earth I love. Oh, this it is, that perfect Heaven to prove! xxn A TEAR When the long green grass waves o'er me. And no summers are before me; When the bitter wind's increase 26 In no wise disturbs my peace. When the spring's sweet thrill, as once. Wakes in me no quick response. Will you, dear, in losing me. Lose the bloom of sky and sea? When the brown bee's busy hum Does not reach me, cold and dumb; When the scent of the wild rose Breathes the sadness of repose. Where no tender voice is heard. Heart-sick sigh or whispered word; When for me all seasons faU, Will your love, sweet, still prevail? Happier far the grave's seclusion. Where your love may seek intrusion. Than the summer's wasted sweetness Barren of that love's completeness. Mouldering underneath the sod. Waiting on the will of God, Heaven itself would yet seem near. Should you drop there, sweet, a tear! xxni SONG I Waken, birds, for the day is waking. And the sky is a sea of hght; Waken, blossom, thy dreams forsaking, Now 'tis no longer night. Waken, heart, and sing to His praise Who decrees that thou shouldst guess. 27 From the sacred blessing love brings always. Of heaven's deep blessedness! XXIV THE OLD STORY By the pleasant paths we know All familiar flowers would grow. Though we two were gone; Moon and stars would rise and set. Dawn the haggard night forget, And the world move on. Spring would carol through the wood. Life be counted sweet and good. While the seasons sped; Winter storms would prove their might. Winter frosts make bold to bite. Clouds lift overhead. Still the sunset lights would glow. Still the heaven-appointed bow In its place be hapg. Not one flower the less would bloom. Though we two had met our doom. No song less be sung. Other lovers through the dew Would go loitering, two and two, When the day was done; Lips would pass the kiss divine, Hearts would beat like yours and mine — Hearts that beat as one. 28 XXV DREAMS Where shall we be, love, you and I, A hundred years from to-day, to-day? Blossoming out in the blue-eyed grasses. Borne on the breeze that loiters and passes. On the cloud of gold or gray? One, or sundered, forever and aye? Will you not whisper, love, softly to me From out the gloom where your dust reposes? And shall I not answer with all my heart. Though our graves be leagues and oceans apart? Shall I not long for smile or caressing, For the warm hand's touch and the warm lip's blessing? Will our ashes regret when the summer closes. Or thrill and stir at the time of roses? Where are the friends of a century gone — Where are they all to-day, to-day? Singing about the heavenly throne. Garnering in the love they have sown. Or a handful of dust by the wild winds blown? A hundred years from to-day, to-day. Love, we shall be as they! XXVI REVERIE SKpping, drifting, with the tide. All the summer twilight through. As in heaven the stars abide In my heart do dreams of you. ^9 Echoes following from the shore Seem the chorus of our song. Summer odors, blown before Float the tranquil tune along. Shall we hnger till the day Paints the earth a thing divine? Spread the sail and haste away Where the distant breakers shine? Held within their fearful grasp. Would they crtish us like a shell? Dying, dearest, in your clasp. All would yet be well ! xxvn INCONSTANCY When the spring-time came, I said, "Spring, I love you — ^love you best." Columbines were gold and red. Winds flowers himg each timid head; By warm rains and sunshine fed Every root was comforted. Every slumbering leaf was guessed "Spring," I vowed, "I love you bestl When the summer came, I said, "Summer, dear, I love you most." Butterflies their wide wings spread; Crowds of starry daisies sped Where their wandering seeds were led; Shining planets overhead Through the heavenly spaces fled. Spring was but a lovely ghost — "Summer, dear, I love you most!" 30 xxvm ON THE RIVER Oh, loose the boat and ply the oar. And let us drift forever Adown this blue enameled floor, This happy, flowing river. The shore unwinds a ribbon green; The lulls smoke blue and tender, And far away tall spires between Are touched with flying splendor. The sweet wind travels just our way, Contented to remind us Of clover-fields and new-mown hay Left far enough behind us. And now and then, so faintly heard. Sweet sounds come trembling over. Of pealing bell and singing bird. Of screaming gull or plover. The sunbeam sees itself below. Reflected in the river — So, dea^rest, in my heart, you know. You are reflected ever! XXIX CLOUDS Sometimes there's a flock of sheep Traveling landward, where the grass Grows so green and fresh and deep. They might crop it as they pass. 31 Sometimes there's a school of fish. Slowly swimming out to sea, Perch or mackerel, as you wish. Scales as bright as scales can be. Now a castle rises there. Broken casements, turrets rent; Here a bit of crazy stair. Or a ruined battlement. And anon, a mountain peak Shines beneath eternal snows. Where the venturous might seek For the little Alpine rose. Or, perchance, a face looks out. Like a seraph's faint and far. Just to see what we're about. In this distant star! XXX ONCE A YEAR Summer is here in all her glory Of waving grasses and fragrant shoot Spelling her swift and beautiful story With scarlet lily, with wayside fruit. Down in green hollows of woody places The sunbeams beckon the orchid out. White thorn blossoms imveil their faces, SweUing pods are beginning to pout. Breezes blow from the gardens of spices Bees make murmuring long delays, 32 The musical laugh of the brook entices Lover and lover to follow her ways. Stay, dear morning, nor yet bereave us! why need your blossoms grow sad and sere?" Linger a little or e'er you leave us. Since you come only once a year! Stay, where the boughs of the bending beeches Shadow the stream in a single spot, And gUd me forever these azure reaches, Reaches of wild forget-me-not! XXXI TODAY Today the sunshine freely showers Its benediction where we stand; There's not a passing cloud that lowers Above this pleasant summer-land: Then let's not waste the sweet today — Tomorrow, who can say? Perhaps tomorrow we may be (Alas! alas! the thought is pain!) As far apart as sky and sea. Sundered, to meet no more again: Then let us clasp thee, sweet today — Tomorrow, who can say? The daylight fades; a purple dream Of twilight hovers overhead. While all the trembling stars do seem Like sad tears yet unshed: Oh, sweet today, so soon away! Tomorrow, who can say? xxxn AT PAUSE The sunbeams fall in a golden shower Across the yellowing vines. The fniit, over-ripe, drops hour by hour. And the michaelmas daisy shines. But where is the meadows' emerald green And the wide wild sunflowers' glow. Lost in the lift of the salt sea-sheen Where the singing breezes go? A pensive hush broods like a charm Over the land and the sea, A pause in the full year's choral psalm. An unuttered melody. The thistles have given up the ghost. And the forests have turned to gold. And the summer's eloquent story, at most. Is but a tale that is told. The rose to the wind has given her breath. The bird has bequeathed his lay. And I have given my heart till death. And after the judgment-day. Then what care I though the fields be brown. And the violet's eyes be hid. Summer for me has woven a crown To wear and be comforted. 34 xxxin TWO MOODS I plucked the harebells as I went Singing along the river-side; The skies above were opulent Of 3un.shine "Ah, whate'er betide. The world is sweet, is sweet, " I cried. That morning by the river-side. The curiews called along the shore; The boats swept from the sandy beach; Afar I heard the breakers' roar Mellowed to silver-sounding speech; And still I sang it o'er and o'er, 'The world is sweet forevermore!" Perhaps today some other one. Loitering alotig the river-side, Content beneath the gracious sun. May sing again, "Whate'er betide. The world is sweet, " I shall not chide. Although my song is done. XXXIV LAST YEAR Last year, when roses were in bloom, When flag-flowers dyed the river-banksp When every gracious thing had room. To feel the sun and render thanks; When winds went blowing out to sea Loaded with clover-scented balms, 35 And in their soaring minstrelsy, Seemed echoes of rejoicing psalms; When wave on wave, the tide returned, — A siren singing on the sand; — I, waiting, with my whole heart yearned To hear his boat's keel touch the land; I, waiting, wasted half the night, Faint grew the planets, pale and far; For him, a fairer morning light. Dawned with the tender morning star. XXXV IN SUN AND SHADE We walked together on the sand: The lazy tide was fretting; The wind blew sweetly from the land; The summ^ sun was setting. Lonely and long the white b&ach lay Beneath the sunset's flushing; The breakers, near and far away. All their white tumult hushing. A cruel wreck upon the shore Spoke of the storm's wild doing: We dreamed no tempest evermore Could blight our summer's wooing. One star was trembUng into light, In that wide heaven showing; One thought within our hearts that night Exceeding sweet was growing. 36 We walked, and spoke as lovers will, In voices hushed and tender, Of hopes the future should fulfill. Of blessings Heaven would render! I walk the Iqnesome beach today : The tide is still returning; The fishing boats at anchor stay; The sunset fires are burning. But tides may ebb and tides may flow. And breakers flash and thunder; Unheeding of them all I know He sleeps their tumult under. He sleeps — ^nor sin nor aching age Shall chill his youth's endeavor: The years of God his heritage Forever and forever. XXXVI CHANGE Dim fields, where bloom was lately. And a silence in the air. Save where some bird sedately Whistles a note here or there : As, if, like me, recalling A vision of vanished springs, While the dead leaves floating and falling Seem their broken and bruisM wings. So lately the fields were growing Into tiieir golden green; So lately the farmer was sowing 37 The long brown furrows between; So lately my heart was singing With the birds that began to build. With jubilant hope was ringing, Witii jubilant love was filled! Now I cry out in my sorrow. And no one answers my moan; To-morrow will come, and to-morrow Find me and leave me alone. There's never a spring at whose waking My pjjjses will thrill as before; Shall a heart sing that is breaking? Were it blessed, it could scarcely do more! XXXVII A SONG (2) 'Tis not the murmuring voice of Spring That stirs my heart and makes me sing; 'Tis not the blue skies, bubbling o'er With sunshine spilled along earth's floor; Nor yet the flush of bursting rose. Nor bloom of any flower that grows. It is that long, long time ago. When all the world was blushing so — It is that then my cheek blushed too, My heart beat fast for love and you: There was a music in the air I fail to find now anywhere. And so, when Spring comes wandering by, I lose the thread of misery; Trusting the promise of her days. 38 I tune my voice to sing her praise. And cheat myself with the sweet pain That in the spring Love blooms again. XXXVIII ANOTHER SPRING "I know the orchards are in bloom," she said, "That in the meadows all the grass is deep. That dimpUng streams far oceanward are led. Though through the pleasant fields they seem to creep. Among the blue flags and the stately rushes. While in the alders loudly sing the thrushes. "I know the daisies drift like winter snow. And ragged lilac boughs inherit wealth; That golden tassels on the barberry grow. And violets quicken in the sod by stealth; I know that white and purple clovers wave As sweet a flower, though grown upon a grave. "And yet I have no heart to rise and look. However much the sun illuminates This fairest page of Nature's ample book. From which the same sweet meaning radiates As when before the meadows were a-blush, And grove and hedge re-echoed to the thrush. " What pleasure can I take in the old lore When eyes that read with me are closed and blind. And mark no more changes on wood or shore. 39 Nor care, perchance, for sweet things left be- hind — What time the apple boughs are wreathed and bent With the fair dower of spring grown opulent!" XXXIX IN DUSKY ALLEYS In dusky alleys where the rose, the rose is over- blown Whose perfume makes the dewy air its own. Where, large and white, from dazzling height o'er height The stars lean down into the silent night, Like some sad flower that blooms and drops unknown I wait, unto sweet Love indiflferent grown. If Love had met me when the rose, the rose, was young. And stairs in morning skies divinely sung. If Love had met me loitering by the strand. Or lent across the slippery ford a hand. Or cried, "Sweetheart, one precious moment stay!" Should I have had the wiU to say him iiay? But since the rose, the rose, drops tarnished, overblown, And every leaf the autumn winds dethrone, Since Love forgets the way unto my door, I watch and wait his coming nevermore, — No beggar lives so hunger-hurt, alone. As I to whom Love once denied my own. 40 XL LILAC CHAINS Let us make a necklace of the lilac flower — The sun will not be setting yet for full an hour; All that lilacs know of songs and stars and showers Shall be surely threaded on this chain of ours. Beads of white and purple — rose and amethyst — Rains have dripped upon them, happy winds have kissed; Slipping throiigh our fingers on this silken string, Sha'n't we catch the magic of the early spring? Catch the bluebird's whistle and the robin's cheer. Catch the trick of blooming with the blooming year, Catch the frolic spirit of the winds that bring Over miles of country hints of blossoming? Amber may be fragrant, so is sandal-wood. But I wouldn't change them, even if I could: Ah me! am I dreaming? Twenty years have passed Since I strung a necklace of the lilacs last! XLI SONG (3) The very stars will rise and swing. More radiant censors in the air. No shadow fall on anything. The red rose paint itself more fair. So brief the hours, divine their sum. When love is come, when love is come. 41 Beauty will fail from earth and sky, Fragrance and song will lose their dower. The world in dark eclipse will lie. And all things wither in that hour When still the heart beats on and on, And love is gone, and love is gone. 42 FANTASIA Once, in a garden quite secluded, Over which the sunbeams brooded. By the breath of roses haunted. Where the hollyhocks were planted. Reigned a swarm of butterflies. All the place was their dominion. Sporting there on snowy pinion. Underneath the summer skies; For they had no thought of sorrow. Knew they got the way to borrow Trouble from a dim surmise. Sooth, the rose was their pavilion. Where they danced a weird cotUlon, And the. tulip's rich vermiUon Served for royal draperies; And the great blue garden-spiders Were their coachmen and outriders, Just according to their size. All the winds were sweet with clover. And the bees hummed everywhere. While the nightingale sang over Every eve his love-lorn air; Never were there wingfed mortals Happier than these butterflies. Once tixey burst their silken portals into this warm paradise. And they spoke unto each other — "All this pleasant world is ours. Straight descended through our mother All these fountains, all these flowers. All these dew-delighted grasses. Over which the simlight passes. Over which the twilight lowers. " 43 No one answered, "Sweet, my brothers. Unto us, and to no others. Do you think the world belonjgs? Just across the wall there truly Where the cabbage-plants are set. In the kitchen-garden duly We were bom; you quite forget, When, as little worms, we crept Up the mossy-scented wall; Wove our cradles soft, and slept Just within the robin's call; Till one day we burst our fetters. Glad to know ourselves on wing And stole out among our betters. Finding life a different thing!" 44 SOLDIERS' GRAVES I About tall headstones where the grass growing. The flowers of spring are fair, — Just the handful the month is blowing. Not a red rose among them all. Only the wild-flowers fine and small. Which faithful hands brought there. Over the nameless graves that are lying Under the southern sun. Perhaps no tender soul with sighing Drops leaf or blossom or spray; But NatuTe herself makes holiday. Remembering every one. n O blossoming-time, make no delay Paint the swift hours the while they stay. Let catkins of the willow lead The way for each fair flowering weed, The strange blooms of the cornel-tree The scarlet of the maple key. Let leaf and bud and grass betray That April brightens into May! With flags the watery ways enrich, Plant the great trillium in its niche. Deep in the tangled woods awhile Let the pale may-flower shyly smUe. Hasten from out your beds of mould O sweet'spring blossoms with your gold. And lend your sweetness and your bloom To gild the shadow of the tomb. 45 Ill The wind-flower blossomed long ago. The crocus could not wait, The homely doorstone rose is slow. The milk-white stock is late. Then bring the wreaths of cherry blooms The eyebright's tender shine, The purple lilac's perfumed plumes. And the splendor of columbine. Bring violets for the graves that grow Green with the growing years. Bring all the fragrant buds that blow Wet with a nation's tears. 46 WATER LILIES Lilies opening without warning. Lilies blown this blessed morning. Scented with the wild night dew, Drenched with sunshine, through and through; — Dreams of places where they grow. Nestle in their hearts, I know. Silent-pools, along whose edges. Droop the flag flowers, bend the sedges, Dear companions of their pleasure. Anchored in eternal leisure, — Pools, where stars look down and smile On my lilies, mile on mile. There, the echoes haunt the rushes, — Ghosts of sound, misleading thrushes. With a hundred mellow gushes; — There, the pink azalea flushes, — In their hearts my lilies keep. All these memories, safe asleep. 47 CHORAL Summer is in the air, odors are everywhere; Tdle birds are singing loud and clear; Brooks are bubbling over; heads of crimson clover On the edges of the field appear. All the meadow blazes with buttercups and daisies, And the very hedges are tangles of perfume; Butterflies go brushing, all their plumage crushing. In among this wilderness of bloom. The thorn-flower bursts its sheath, the bramble hangs a wreath. And blue-eyed grasses beckon to the sun; While gypsy pimpernel waits eager to fortell Whqn rainy clouds are gathering one by one. The very world is blushing, is carolling and gush- ing Its heart out in a melody of song; While simple weeds seem saying, in grateful trans- port praying, "Unto Him our praises all belong!" 48 A LULLABY Hush, hush, rest my sweet; Rest, rest thy tired feet; Forget the storms and tears of thy brief hours: There's naught shall thee distress, Wrapt in sleep's blissfulness. Crowned by a dream,something as fair as flowers, Hush, dearest, hush; May no intruder brush From off thy bloomy cheek the downy kiss; May no inquiet fly Go rudely buzzing by To snatch away thy dear unconscious bliss. May dreams enchanted spread A pillow for thy head. And hang a curtain 'twixt thee and the sun; While smiles shall overflow Thy rosy lips as though The angels' whisper were too sweet for one. Then, sleep, my baby dear; Yet, lest the traitor. Fear, Should cry, "The child will waken nevermore!" Stir in thy dreams anon. Bidding the thought begone. And lift thine eyes to bless me as before! 49 SINGING Rock in the wind, little nest; When you are full life is best; Soon enough wings will be grown. Flutter, and leave you alone. Rock in the wind, Httle nest; Say, what are storms to the blest? Though you should tremble and fall God cares for sparrows and all. Rock, little nest; like a song All the sweet days fleet along; Winter will presently come. Making you vacant and dumb! 50 HER FffiST SNOW Drop gentle snowflakes, one by one: Be not afraid of the noonday sun. Build up your palaces, crystal-white, Aladdin-like, in a single night. Hide the old fences under yoiu- veil; Cover the dimples of hill and of dale; Let not the trees go naked, but place On their shining limbs a web of your lace. Visit the martin-house, if you will. Or lodge all night on my window-sUl; Call on the well-sweep, and wreathe it about With fringes, as well as the water-spout. Give to the door-bell a fleecy cap; Lend the salt hay-cocks an ermine wrap : And drift just enough to make the world look As if it had stepped from a fairy-book. "Yes," said the Snowflakes, "it's time we should rally. To tuck in the roots of the grass, To shine on the hill-top and whiten the valley And touch the world up as we pass. All the huts that are ruined and ugly Let us change into marble halls. We will cover the naked hedges up snugly, And festoon the ragged stone walls. We will build our drifts on the king's highway. Mimic the shape of star or feather. We will silently waltz the hvelong day. Or sculpture garlands together. Never, outside of the spider's loom, Shall be spun such gauzes as ours. And never, after the summer's bloom. Shall be seen such wonderful flowers. " 51 THE VALENTINE What shall we send the baby? A picture of cherub or flower, Of garlands of grasses, may be. Or the sun looking out of a shower? But no flower that blows is so sweet As she, with her smile grown bolder. And no cherub's grace so complete. Even with wings at the shoulder. So, — ^lean your face down while I speak. We will send the baby just this, — Though 'twas stolen first from your cheek, St. Valentlue sends her a kiss. 52 THREE Three baby birds on the wing; Where did they learn how to sing? Who, do you Uiink, taught them how To fly from their nest on a bough? Three baby buds on the stem; Who can it be fashioned them Out of the black garden mould, Rose-tinted, fold upon fold? Three baby stars in the sky; How did they climb up so high? What is the power divine. That made tJiem twinkle and shine? 53 IN THE SHOWER Shine out, summer sun, and behold The glories of meadow and hill, King-cups and trefoils manifold. Raspberry vines, at their own sweet will Straggling about through grassy ways. Making the most of the summer days. Strawberry blossoms, pallid as snow, Sweetbrier roses all ablow. Gay blue flags at the water's edge Playing hide and seek with the sedge. Delicate ferns, in shady places. Drifts of white and golden daisies. Rosy garlands of hollyhocks. Scented gillj^owers on their stalks. Tiny plumes of the mignonette, Pansies, with their eyes stUl wet. Shine out, O sun, and discover The dragon-fly on the clover. The goldchafer hid in the rose. And the lilies' odorous snows. The spider's web, which the dew With gems braids through and through. Shine out, O sun, once again For a charm to banish the rain. 54 REST "Hush, darling, and close your eyes; Little birds are asleep in their nest, Little stars are white in the skies. Hush, baby, and take your rest. "Hush, darling, the winds are still. Rose and lily are hanging their heads; All the sweet blossoms at morning will Open afresh in their dewy beds. "Through the twilight and darkness deep, Rest, though my arms may not infold you One, who knows neither slumber nor sleep. In stronger clasp than mine shall hold you. ' I sang. And slowly the dawn of day Silvered the sky, and fields, and river; But the baby had fled, in his sleep, away Into eternal arms, forever! Then sleep on, baby, and take your rest; Yours was the life of a flower, but they Who dwell forever among God's blest Find a thousand years but a day. 55 THE MOTHER BIRD Deep in a leafy dell we found — When early summer wove her crown — A bird's-nest on the mossy ground, From blooming bough blown down. Five pearly eggs, quite warm and white. Were waiting for the brooding wing. That from each shell there might take flight A bird, to trill and sing. The mother sat and grieved apart; Her song had no rejoicing note. The sorrow of her wounded heart Seemed sobbing in her throat. She thought of all the summer days. With their sweet sunshine, yet to come; Of fledglings echoing God's praise, While only hers were dumb; She dreamed that all the wood must miss The melody that might have been. The wind had robbed flie world of bliss It had been glad to win. 56 THE OPENING FLOWER It grew, by hope and care attended. From winter winds and frosts defended While baby made a heaven on earth. The season long it still delayed To burst in bloom, as thoiigh afraid Of perishing at birth. One morn, when April skies were weeping Above our baby's peaceful sleeping, A flower, at early light. Blossomed, we thought, to typify Our darUng's morning, gloriously Breaking beyond our sight. 57 AN EMPTY NEST Hidden by green grasses tall, Close beside the orchard wall, A little sparrow built. Laden boughs tossed overhead, Apple blossoms, white and red. Which their odor spilt. Sweeter home could not be found, Should one search the green earth round Than this sparrow chose. Neighborly the clover grew; There the strawberry thickly blew. White as winter snows. Wandering sunbeams found it out. When the grasses blew about In each Uttle breeze; Fireflies, too, with flickering spark. Seemed to blossom after dark In among the trees. Three bare, shivering little things. Waiting for their promised wings. Made the home complete. What a life it was to live — Summer long to take and give Just love's sweet for sweet! Then, what melody divine Soon would bubble, clear and fine. From each Kttle breast! What loud praise of flower or fern. Rains that drench and suns that bum, Liquidly confessed! 58 But the strawberries ripened soon; Every brood had found its tune. Every bird its wing; Yet the three small sparrows left In the stone wall's mossy cleft. Had not learned to sing! Not a trill of bursting bloom. Nodding grass or ferny plume. From the nest ran over; All the summer passed unsung By three sparrows, dead, among The rank and fragrant clover! 59 THE GOLDEN-ROD When autumn reddens the hills. And lights up the secret wood, Sings in the babbling rills, And broods in a hazy mood, — The golden-rod waits in the mead. Her torch illuming the way Where the mallows, going to seed. Lose their bloom day by day. 0, golden flower of the year. Where do you gather your light? What rustling winds do you hear. Telling the secret in flight? From the sunshine that we have missed Was woven a gown for you. And the air was the warp, I wist. From which your beauty grew. What wondrous power do you guess. Could fashion so fair a rod. Wreathed with such loveliness, Li the bountiful thought of God? 60 TURNING BROWN The earth is turning brown, dear, The earth is turning brown; The birds, full-grown, have already flown. And the leaves are whirling down. There's no green grass in the lane, child. There are no red berries in the wood; The world is no longer at Spring, child. It has chosen another mood. Yet think you Nature loves not as well Her season of dumb repose.'' Think you she misses the bluebird's swell. The robin's trill, the thrush's thrill, Or even the fragrant rose? I trow she knows that the drifting snows Are good for the dreaming flowers; That Spring doth borrow a hint from the sorrow Of these bare, brown Autumn hours. 61 THANKSGIVING Let us thank Him for the rose Which the summer season lends; For each blade of grass that grows, And the sunshine that He sends; For the daisies' drift of snow. And the sunflowers' golden shields; For the strawberry-plants that sow Small white stars throughout the fields For the thistle's purple crown. And the hawkweed's yellow hood; For the crocus in its gown. And the wild bird in the wood; For the milkweed, spilling out All its hoard of silken skeins; For the brooks that sing and shout Louder after heavy rains; For the stars that nightly rise. All the heavens brimming; For the rainbow in the skies. And the crickets' hymning. Thank Him for the red leaf's glow. For the vine's increase. For the promise of the snow. And the wide world's lease! 62 FROST FLOWERS While we are sleeping, stealthily creeping. They come, as the green comes in early spring; Here there's a vine or root, here shows a tender shoot; Faintest of posies, of ghostly roses. Within this garden are blossoming. What busy sprite, at the dead of the night, Scatters the seeds of these magical weeds? Frond of lily and flower of gilly. Breathing out only an odor chilly. Ferns that keep in their sculptured sleep A memory of June's warm, spicy noons. Of her starlit hollows and building swallows. Of her waxing and waning moons? But now that summer's smile has fled. And all of her pomp and bloom lies dead. Is it the souls of her flowers, again. That reappear on my window pane. Blooming at night in a splendor of white, To fade away in the strong sunHght? 63 OFFERINGS Such costly treasure the wise men gave. To the baby in Palestine; Burnished gold, which mayhap some slave Unearthed from a sunless mine. Myrrh and frankincense, rare and fine. Nothing of theirs too good or sweet, To lay at the baby's feet. What do we offer our Lord in heaven? Frankincense of holy thought? Wrongs forgiven seventy times seven Loving kindness rendered for naiight, Deeds, precious as gold the Magi brought? Nothing of ours too costly or sweet. To lay at His wounded feet. 64 A BURDEN What did you bring to us, Old Year? Many a hope and many a fearP Smiles a few, but many a tear? Many a heartache for days together. Many a taste of frosty weather? Many a wish ungratified. Many a happiness denied? But you brought us, too, the rosy day. Let its troubles be what they may; The hollow night, whose planets climb Pathways older, perhaps, than Time; The sunset's lingering, fading flush And the twiUght's eloquent hush; And baby moon, like a sweet surprise. Leaning out of the western skies. You brought the dawn, with its filmy light Woven out of the infinite; The early anemone in the wood. And all the delicate sisterhood; The pink mayflower in its hiding-places. And the pale Linnaea's tender graces; The blood root, with its crimson stain. And the lonesome whippoorwill's refrain. Out of your treasure-house you brought The season's tapestries, enwrought With wild and beautiful devices, And fragrant with all fragrant spices; The scarlet and gold of the autumn-leaf. The corn in the ear, the wheat in the sheaf The witchery of the snow, that weaves After the pattern of stars and leaves. And the light that never from land or sea Borrowed half of its poetry. 65 FORGETFULNESS She died full twenty years ago; Her lover drew his breath to weep; Her grave is overgrown. And so He giveth His beloved sleep. The marble slab in ruin lies: The mound has sunken year by year; But one to her are smiles or sighs. Or steps that linger near. Neglected died the sweet-brier rose Her lover set, with eyes still wet. Forgotten like his early woes, Unteinded by regret. The seasons wax, the seasons wane. She does not mark their constant flow; Nor sun, nor snow, nor summer rain Delights the heart below. The noises from the village street. The stir about the homes beneath. Come borne unto her still retreat By winds that idly breathe. She has no part in anything That makes the pulses thrill and beat, No part in what the days may bring Of bitter or of sweet. Long since her lover lost his way To that green mound where roses grew Long since he wiped his tears away. And ceased to make ado. 66 But still the wild-flowers tangle there Among the ferns that grow knee-deep; The bird builds and the bees hum where He giveth His beloved sleep. 67 WHICH IS BEST? To feel that heaven were not heaven without her. That where she is not 'twere sad to be; That all sweet fancies blossom about her, And she lends enchantment to land and sea; That sunlight is shadow where she does not shine, And pain for her sake a rapture divine? To know that the ground you tread on she blesses. At the sound of your voice all her pulses stir; That no language or glance or touch confesses The half of the love that abides in her; That sweet things are bitter which you do not share, Hope a delusion, and life a despair? 68 THE CONFESSION Through birchen woods the sun let down A crowd of golden rays; On Nature's face there was no frown That fairest of fair days; When my love she said, bending her head. While a blush her cheek did cover, "Through dark days and fair, through hope and despair, I shall love you well, oh, my lover!" The lark sang from his cloud above. Rapt in an ecstasy; The bird on the bough twittered of love. And the winds did seem to sigh. "Oh, my love," I said, o'er her bended head, While the blush her cheek did cover, "In weal or in woe, only love, we know. Can love's counterpart discover!" Well, love, like the wind, it comes and goes. And who shall dare complain If the lover's heart, like a summer's rose. Blossom never again? The lark that sang his clouds among In no wise did surpass The heavenly note that died in my throat To the murmur of "Alas!" Is it not enough that the open rose Takes the sun to its heart. Though every angry gale that blows Tear its frail leaves apart? Is it not enough, is it not enough (Oh, heart, thy sighing smoQier!), That I'd rather be wronged, love, by thee Than righted by another? 69 A PICTURE Her eyes are fairer than the light Of stars that shine the clouds between On summer eves, when in their flight The planets out of heaven lean. Her cheek is fairer than the rose That blushes in the warm Jime sun. And all its spicy soul bestows The wandering winds upon. Her smile is like the flickering rays Which coruscate across the night. And set the Northern skies ablaze With far-reflected light. Her words are like the gems that fell From fabled lips in fairy lands; And be it with me ill or well. Lies in her two white hands. Her voice is like the singing brooks. Like summer gales the pines among; All heaven for me is in her looks. And life or death upon her tongue! 70 CAPRICE He said, one spring, that ere the days Grew warm, and summer twilights long. And roses set the world ablaze. And every bird had learned its song — Ere fields with scented ferns were sweet, And lily petals all uncurled — That he would teach a heart to beat For him alone of all the world. But when the rose had bloomed and blushed. And silence followed the birds' tune, He gave t^e heart back, torn and crushed. That learned to love too soon. 71 LOVE AND ROSES The roses climbed the garden wall. And blushed in sweet profusioa; From blooming boughs the birds let fall A musical confusion. The twilights there were fine and sweet. And fair the summer weather. And she who made my world complete Sweeter than all together. The evening star shone overhead; The grass with dew-drops glistened; One scarce had heard the words we said Who jealously had listened: Love's language is not writ, I wot, Only in tender speeches; By many a smile or glance 'tis taught. That through the ages reaches! The roses now have lost their leaves. Though thorny tendrils climb there; The dew-drenched grass is bound in sheaves And early falls the rime there; No echo of a bird I hear Through the deserted closes: Faded and dead within the year Lie Love and the June roses. 72 THE PROPHECY They sat on the beach till the tide was full ^d the fishing boats returned. And looked where the breakers were white as wool. Where the light-house beacon burned. "To-morrow," he said — "to-morrow I'll be Sailing beyond the bar, Out on the sad and desolate sea. Beyond reach of that lonesome star. "The wind shall beckon and be my friend — Blow, merry breezes, blow! — But through life and death, and unto the end, You are mine in spite of your ' No !' "You shall wake at night from a dream of delight And hst to the breakers' tone. Where you'll seem to hear a voice once dear Imploring again for its own. "You shall start with fright at the fall of night As you walk — ^not alone — on the sand. Should a heedless wave disclose a grave There at your feet where you stand. "Living or dead, here be it said — 'Tis so hard to do without you — You shall see my sad face in every place, You shall feel my presence about you. "By the fireside's blaze, in the long summer days You'll be never again alone. For I shall inherit, in body or spirit. The heart that you call your own. " 73 A year had passed, when his ship at last Discharged its motley crew, And the color came to her cheeks in a flame When she thought what a year could do. She stole to the shore at dusk, or before The stars were large in the sky, A^d cried, "Oh, my own, I am waiting alone!' In answer there came — a sigh! He stood before her, her true adorer. One instant, only one; But that moment's bliss was enough for this — It told what a year had done! White and wan as the sky at dawn. Like a trembling mist, I ween; He seemed to be but a breath of the sea, Through which the stars could be seen. 74 OPPORTUNITY She leaned out from the lattice At the budding of the mom, The Sim was on the hill-tops. The dew was on the thorn. The willful climbing roses Above her wove a crown. And wreathed her queen of maidens As he came riding down. He checked his horse's gallop And dallied by the way. Smiling and gazing on her. Loath to go and loath to stay; For he thought, "The sweet tomorrow Waits upon my delays. Then wherefore haste to gather The flower that blooms always? Where she blossoms I can find her Before the season's flight, Blushing beside her lattice. And smiling in the light. So shall I waste the morning, The dew upon the way. In reaching for a posy That opens every day?" He passed — ^the sunshine with him, — The dew dried on the thorn. The roses dropped their petals That crowned her queen at mom. Yet once, when his heart was weary. And life of glory shorn. He turned him to her lattice, — But she and the roses were gone! 75 THE FARMER'S LESSON If I had told her in the spring The old, old story, briefly. When sparrow and robin began to sing, And the plowing was over, chiefly! But haste makes waste, and the story sweet I reasoned, will keep through the sowing. Till I drop the corn, and plant the wheat, And give them a chance for growing. Had I even told the tale in June, When the wind through the grass was blowing. Instead of thinking it rather too soon. And waiting till after the mowing! Or had I hinted, out under the stars. That I knew a story worth hearing, — Lingering to put up the pasture bars, — Nor waited to do the shearing! Now the barn is full, and so is the bin, But I've grown wise without glory. Since love is the crop not gathered in — For my neighbor told her the story! 76 EMBROroERY All the flowers are overblown. All the grass is newly mown, — Prithee, 'tis a pity quite Thus to sit from morn till night. With a heart in nowise light, Thus to sit and draw my thread Just to earn my daily bread ! Underneath my finger grows Heartsease, starts the pale primrose, — Ah, to them no wind that blows. Summer rains, nor winter snows. Any ruin can disclose. While I traced these wilful vines. Clematis and jessamines. With the freakish wandering-jew. And the gadding ivy, too. While I draw my needle out. Straight I lose what I'm about, And the fields I used to know All their feathery reaches show. Blue-eyed grasses interspersed With dandehons gone to seed. Which I used to think at first Knew if any one had need Of the love that I could give. Of the life that I could live. But there can be none so poor. Asking alms beside my door. While I sit and shape my flowers Through the lonesome lingering hours? In those fields we strolled together. He and I, — no matter whether 77 All the sky was overcast, And the wailing autumn blast Swept us like a ghost unguessed WhQe we walked among the blest. In the world that has no name, Tni, presently between us came A third, — ah me — I quite forget Sometimes — ^Here waits my violet — One, two, — its leaves already wet — For now, that all the flowers are blown I sit and sigh and weep alone! 78 THORNS AND ROSES I went into my garden, When first the day was born. And I saw the roses blowing — Each rose behind a thorn; And I said "O, Rose forgive me, But I really must delay 'Till you have no thorns to give me. So I'll come another day. " And the hours went swin^ging o'er us. Melody of bees and birds. Falling into minor chorus. Fit for any tender words. And my heart was filled with sadness Such as from sweet music flows, 'Till I cried, "Alas, what madness, I had quite forgot my rose!" Forth I fled, no more delaying: How I bore it, heaven loiows, — For the tree, its thorns displaying. Nowhere showed a rose ! 79 ONLY A SOB It was only a heart; but then Did you know it was yours? When You lightly threw it away. Did you dream of a reckoning day? It was only a heart; yet I can never quite forget How you toyed with the thing for a while Then put it aside with a smile. It is only a heart still — Do with it as you will — A heart that is broken in two. But no longer beating for you! 80 FAITH 'Mid naked boughs the robin sings: That buds will break he is so sure; So sure that flowers and all sweet things Will blossom while the years endure. Though cold the wind, he has no doubt Of warmth and comfort on ike way; He knows that all greep blades will sprout However late the frosts delay. He knows, by wonderful prevision. That summer soon will haunt the wood, And bring the barren bough fruition. And to the empty nest its brood! 81 OVER SEAS Oh, fair the morning breaks and shines. With drifting cloud and rosy reach. Above the peaks of Apennines Fairer than words of human speech; And fair, from Alpine height to height, Voicing an awful minor strain. The torrents in their headlong flight. Thread the stars on their silver skein. And fair the crystal rivers creep. Where softly sang the Lorelei, Where wraith of lord and lady keep. Their ghostly state for aye and aye, Where ruined bowers are overgrown. With many a tale of love and tears. Tendril and blooms of seed-pain blown. From the dusty centuries' harvest years. 82 THE BROOK "O, I am tired!" said the brook, complaining, "I fain would stop a little while to rest; The clouds would weary were they always raining; The bird, if she forever built her nest! "The stars withdraw from heaven and cease their shining. The sun himself drops down into the west. I fain would stop, " the brook kept on repining, "And catch my breath, and be an instant blest. "All day a voice calls, 'Follow, dearest, follow,' And toiling on, I seek to reach the goal. Nor pause to list to yonder happy swallow. Telling in song the secret of his soul. " " O foolish brook ! " the wind blew in replying, "Am I not always with you on the wing? Cease your fond mourning, cease your weary sighmg. And thank your stars for such companioning!" The sun came up across the silver awning. And hung a golden flame against the slqr; He dallied not to drink the dews of dawning. And when the night|fell, lo, the brook was dry! At rest! at rest! no more of toil unceasing; No watering of the roots ofjshwib or tree; No hoarjding from the rain, nor stiU increasing. To lose itself, at last, within the sea! 88 DEER ISLAND'S EVENING Softly the daylight fades on the river, Stars come trooping into the dark. Great pine boughs lean over and shiver. Fireflies kindle each tiny spark. Grandly the tide bears toward the ocean. Obeying an impulse it may not defy. Sweeping us on with rhythmical motion Under the archway of mighty sky. Silvery echoes answer our singing, — Voices of some aerial band. Or bells of faery sweetly ringing From ruined towers of some ancient land 84 WARNED Be bold, heart, be bold! In the warm days of old Hearts were not bought and sold — Love was not pawned for gold! Be wise, heart, be wise! Time borrows wings, and flies ; Seek that which satisfies; Waste not to-day in sighs! Be true, heart, be true! That which is nearest do; Where the seed fell it grew — Heart's-ease ne'er brought forth rue! Be great, heart, be great! There lives no potentate Ruling such vast estate As you, in trust for Fate! 85 WHEN WE WERE YOUNG Fairer the rose blushed When we were young, Brighter spring mornings flushed Sweeter birds sung. TwiUghts were finer far. Decked with the evraiing star, Finer than day-dreams are. When we were young. Fortune was kinder, then. When we were young; Love, too, was bUnder, then, Honied of tongue. Friendships were all sincere. Pleasures were far more dear. And Heaven, itself, was near When we were young. 86 ASLEEP Sound asleep: no sound can reach Him who dreams the heavenly dream No tomorrow's silver speech Wake him with an earthly theme. Summer rains relentlessly Patter where his head doth lie; There the wild fern and the brake All their summer leisure take. Violets blinded with the dew, Perfume lend to the sad rue. Till the Day break, fair and dear. And no shadow doth appear. 87