Actaeon's Defense IPS 3545 1614 IP3 1906 [Copy 1 And Other Poems by ALICE WILSON Class :&.SMii5_ Book! ^ 1 4 A Coipght]^". ' COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. Acteon's Defense and Other Poems by Alice Wilson Boston: Richard G. Badger The Gorham Press 1906 Copyright 1906 by Alice Wilson All Rig Jits Reserved LIBHArtY of CONGRESS Two Conies Received JUN 13 »906 CMpyriirht Entry 'KX<^ No. The Gorharn Press, Bosto7i, U. S. A. CONTENTS PAGE Actaon^s Defense 7 To a Pine Tree at Night 11 Voice and Star 13 To Iphigenia 14 St. Agnes' Dreams 17 Voices 19 Choice 21 To the Queen Dying 23 Thoughts on Watching a Snow-Slorm 24 To a Scarlet Tanager 26 Rhapsody 27 Vision 30 To N. W. and A.E.IV 31 ToM.L.D 32 To a Lovely Woman 33 Warthurg Castle * 34 Wartburg Castle ** 35 Warthurg Castle *** 36 To Egypt 37 Villa Muti . -. 38 Remembrance 39 PAGE May Song 39 Rhythm 40 Peace 41 Dawn and Daphne 42 Sovereign Spring 43 New Year's Day 44 Camoen's Cry 45 Moon Maid 46 The Minstrel 48 Grief in May 49 Winter Marches 50 Love Sonnets and Lyrics 1 52 // 53 in 54 IV 55 V 56 VI 57 VII 58 VIIl 59 IX 60 X 61 PAGE To the Dream-Beloved 62 On a Portrait 64 Evening Reverie 65 Sea-Bird 66 Song 67 Hopes 68 Song 69 Expectancy 70 // thou didst come 71 Comparison 72 Little New Moon 73 Jealousy 74 Plaint 75 Blossoms 76 Winter Glow 77 The Norse Spirit 78 To a Statue: Madonna and Child 87 Art 90 ACTv^ON'S DEFENSE ' " Nay, thou wilt hear me, dazzling Artemis? " Stay but a while, my goddess! stay and hear! " Surely thou know'st no wilful passion drove " Me In desire to this sight of thee? " Not more than some unthinking sheep that sees " The rim of pasture greener o'er the ridge " And goes impelled by instinct to the best, " Came I upon thee In thy mystery. "Thou know'st my happy life; how with the youths *' I chased and sported, sang, and wore the wreaths "The maidens wove, with careless victory? " Count them, these years ! Were they not fault- lessly " Thine own, oh Maiden Huntress? fit to adorn " The marble of thy temple with a frieze " Of carven scenes whereon thy tameless gaze " Might rest In exultation? " Thus I lived, " 'Til once — whether a world of seasons past — " One autumn, — nay, or whether one brief morn, " I know not ! — suddenly my horn fell dumb. " I answered not my friends, nor stirred — and all " The chase died out in echo. Still I stood, " Hushed by a dream and blind. And as a vase " Of alabaster shows the glowing flame " So burned the dream within me. Ah! no more " l^he same, but now as one apart " Who feels a farther wonder than he sees, " I wandered, and my feet came carelessly " Unto the door of Spring. "Yea, ever fair " This birth beneath the sod, that wakens death " To life, and bids the burled roots to break " Into a coronal of budding things ; — " That bids the waters woo the empyrean blue " To mate with them, and He In lakes and streams " Like sleeping Godhood veiled In loveliness; — " That decks the morning hills with dew-fed beauty " And sends a thousand sparkling points of light " To jewel all the morning! " So adown " Unending vistas trembling Into green " Where scarcely yet the tender thought of nest " Had entered, or the stillness broken yet " With earliest song, and over virgin fields " That lay yet wrapped In lovely harvest dreams, " Under the young trees' arches, past the glades, " I came. And oft when lying by a pool 8 " Of wood-deep stillness, I have heard afar " Beyond the young wood-river's echoing course " The rhythmed movement of some hidden sea " That called me dimly; and my bosom's dream " Like some strange master bid me follow. Or, " When rousing flights of eager-winged birds " Out of their quiet, over miles of sky, " Ever my burning sight would yearn to them " With this too great desire. And oft I plunged " Into a shadowed pool to quench at once " My body's heat and this fierce flame within, — " In vain ! Like to the stag I oft have seen " Trample the fairness of an hostile copse " To reach a farther shelter, while each move " Doubled its danger; so through all the spring " I came. " At last one morn I woke and found '' The earth all summer, beauteous, wide and full. " Within me woke twin-gladness to my world! " I leapt, and gave the brimming call of old " Delight, and felt the dream, the spell " That held me, surge toward its goal. " Hunter again ! Again the glorious chase " Re-echoed through the silence ! I turned aside " Wondering to hear my heart-beats; — Lo ! " Full-crowned with glory of divinity "Thou stoodst Incarnate! Oh All Beautiful! " Who led me to the brink of thee? Who dared " Reveal the wonder of my dream's desire? " I burn! my sight Is flame! and all my being " Suffuses In effulgence! Ah, forbear, "Thou holy human! Thine unlmpassloned gaze " Devours me ! That once moon-marble light " That led me softly through the scented dark " Now grasps me In a blaze of awful scorn ! " Farewell, my silvery hopes, that fall as stars " Around me In this sudden glare of day! " My senses fall ! " Ho! sound the hunter's horn! " Let the dark night be wakened by the chase ! "What though the pale, far goddess fail? Per- chance " Beyond the dark, the forest passed, she waits " Within the delicate dawn, above a slope " Of grassy mildness bathed in blushful light " To crown us with her service virginal. " Come, my companions! — " Hark! Whence comes this fear? " Oh anguish! Hunted, even I, once lord " Of all the chase? Dian, Goddess! hear!" I- / ^ / 10 TO A PINE-TREE AT NIGHT Oh thou dreaming pine-tree, how my spirit loves thee! Calls thee its companion across the silent night! Thou in dreams art folded beyond the Summer's presence, Deaf to all her music, dumb to her delight ! Are thy dreams as tender, as exquisite as mine are, Infinitely subtler than the lightest breeze? Ship's wing, earth's scent, pulse of languid sea- wave My dreams are made of, but fairer far than these. Dear to me the sailing ships, filled with graceful breezes — Songs of the sea, flung out to greet the shore; — Sweet are the odors of the earth and ocean, Sweeter for nestling under deep sea roar. When the morning calls me out of tender slumber, Calls me to run to the young dawn's verge, Sometimes I hasten with pulses beating gladly Ready all my being in the morning's joy to merge. II Sometimes I seek a sister in desire By the drawn sea-tide, far and lone, and low : Now something draws me onward, to reach a higher level. Now it draws me backward, to and fro. Gifts are lying for me, on the motionless horizon. Songs I cannot hear arise from all the buds of earth ; Darkly, and sweetly, and full of stirring mystery Some rapture, cradled in my heart, is trembling into birth. What is this strange rapture, that wakens through my dreaming Reaching out for something the meadows cannot give? Is it this, oh silent pine-tree, that draws thee from the summer This delight In whose embrace alone thou car'st to live? Yet I will not ask thee for thy secret's dear di- vulgence ! All Its sweetness would be spent, Its mystery would die. Only, tell me softly, if amid thy dreaming, Thou dost ever wish for some more dear reality ? 12 VOICE AND STAR Star shining down from the heaven, Passionless, pure, and far; — Full of the fervor of living, Voice ringing out to the star. Voice ringing out to the star In an ecstasy sweet and divine; Breaking out over the silent Horizon of time. Star, in the calmness of vision, Dumb, comprehending the whole. Gathers the wordless wonder Into its soul. Each to the other out-reaching Over the aeons of air. Striving to stamp their image Somehow, somewhere. Somehow, somewhere to be gathered, Never ceasing to be. Till they dwell in the perfect plenum Of eternal infinity. 13 TO IPHIGENIA Ah Iphlgenia ! to be waiting there, Expectant, chosen, doomed, a tragic bride Of fate, with sad bound sacrificial hair And blighted loveliness, and tearful pride ! Was it not sweet, to feel thy young death meant The triumph of a nation's answered want? Did not thy soul bud forth in wonderment And full of ecstasy, arise and chant? I could so share the trembling of thy form That shrank from parting with its gift of life! To thy soul's terror, too, I could conform And loathe the deadly vision of the knife. But, could'st thou plead and weep against thy lot? Against the high demand of sacrifice? Could'st strive to 'scape, with futile plan and plot Paying the one sublime atonement price? Would'st thou not render life's young sweetness up With happy cadence into deathless skies? Not drink, unfaltering, the silent cup Filled with the draught of future victories? 14 Most exquisite, In temple column-reared, Upon a shore sea-bordered, still and blue. Where without wonder, happy Gods appeared Their deathless dreams of beauty to pursue. To die; while countless warriors waited still For thy sweet breath to fail, thy form so fair To lie in marble death, beyond the thrill That lifted mighty hearts to worship there. I would my life might gather its spent force And blossom into so divine a death, Could I but purchase such an evil course Of ills with price of my one body's breath ! But now there Is no temple by the sea ; No altar carved in marble delicate; No oracle enwrapped in mystery; No virgin called, a victim unto fate ! Instead, an open world beneath the day Where men are herded In a stricken mass To watch in grief, along the mourning way The solemn countenance of sorrow pass. 15 I see men stand beside the silent dead No touch can lift to life, no voice awake, I feel their hearts' deep weight of tears unshed, I hear the grief no human words e'er spake. And I, my Iphlgenia, unlike thee Whom the stern voice of oracle bade come, I can but weep, uncomforted, to see Our holy Altars lying chaste and dumb. Oh daughter of a deathless century, Rejoice in thine old-world belief That let thee dying look abroad and see Thy people saved from such a bitter grief ! While we must seek with more awakened minds, W^ith more of spirits' lonely prophecy A consolation not to be defined, Which gives us prescience of eternity. Written in memory of William McKinley. i6 ST. AGNES' DREAMS There is no moon aloft, and yet its light Like guilty creature from a silent wold Creeps out upon the open moor of night And aureoles the darkness with its gold. The happy maidens gather in a throng With offering and charm and lurid spell To break the bonds of magic and with awe The names of future- fate and lovers tell. And now a laugh ascends, a happy jest, Half broken by sweet terror and the cry Of one who stumbles nearer on the truth. And well believes her own mind's fantasy. The hour chimes, and sudden silence reigns. Now all have sped to seek the charmed sleep When dreams are blest with life and visions dear Awake and live and move and softly speak. All still! Now noiselessly the magic hour Steals phantom-like across my solitude, And lo ! from stress of love, I kneel and pray To lowly Agnes, saint of maidenhood. 17 She sends no charmed sleep encrowned with dreams, But only touches my own waking thought To happy hope, and draws to clearer sight The one dear image which my heart hath wrought. There is no moon, no spell, no augury, The spirits slumber still in silent rest. All still ! my quiet heart with closed eyes Lies as a lily on the river's breast. i8 VOICES Tonight my spirit wakes and will not rest. Nor may the silence soothe its care away, For o'er the mountain's long, unlighted crest I seem to see the shadow of the day. I seem to hear the brown wood-rivers' singing Of other scenes, unslumberlng and free; To see the eager birds their long flight winging Along the margin of a level sea ; To hear, as oft mldf^vlnter silences, The whisper of an uncreated spring; To feel the presence of dim potencies Elude my touch like some half-startled thing. I know not if these are some once-known lands Revisiting my waking memory, Toward which I reach my spirit's yearning hands With eager w^Ish for proving constancy. Or still the same dim dream of the Ideal, The CIrce-call of worlds that never were, Which ever, through the universe of the real, Like sudden star-worlds nebulously stir. 19 Nor stilled, nor ever found, these mystic feelings Appear like phantom spirits In the mind, Omniscient In their Infinite reveallngs Although, for all their wide-eyed vision, blind. Akin to lonely tides that rise and fall As moved by that high power unproved, un- guessed. Around life's shores these voices move and call And urge our thoughts upon eternal quest. 20 CHOICE The lithesome willow wooes the earth With delicate caresses; While up for the mere touch of sky The trembling poplar presses. Which chooscst thou, oh rapturous heart Ready-winged with song — I'he sweetness near of budding earth, Or sky-flights dim and long? Or art thou gifted as a bird With equal happy share Of friendship for the nesting earth And passion for the air? Be quick, my heart, my happy bird, For life is full and sweet, And I would follow on thy way — Thy choice I wait to greet. Then spake my heart: "I dare not choose Or either earth or sky Lest by my choice I lose indeed Some share of ecstasy.'* 21 "Like wlllow-bough I'd woo the earth With touch of tender love, Like trembling poplar yearn I for "rhe haunting height above." to "Yet if I start on singing flight To make each rapture mine, For love's possession of a part I must the whole resign." " 'Tis now, upon the brimming verge I drink of all delight. My wing is glad with prophecy Of all the joy of flight." 22 TO THE QUEEN, DYING Now hath the gray and starry moor All wind-dismantled grown — A whisper low, of wondering woe, A lily, overblown. Queen and Woman! proud of life! So Mother-meek with love! I saw thee late in robes of state In majesty to move. And all my life I heard the song Thy full heart chanted loud, I knew thee blest in every breast, So gracious and so proud. In silent awe we watch and wait With deep implanted faith, Thy closing hour, thine ending power. The Angelus of Death. The pure star waneth in the light, Our eyes no longer see; We greet forlorn the new, strange morn Unheralded by thee ! 23 THOUGHTS ON WATCHING A SNOW-STORM Through a vast, aerial sea It sinketh slow, and awfully; — Mute with unseen mystery. Sinks and masses, deep and still, A slumb'rous wayfarer, until It yields unto the north wind's will. Then it sweeps like phantom sand Blighting by its leprous hand All the blooming of the land. Pity, oh ye powers then For the erstwhile master men Locked like cattle in their pen ! No Theseus have they in this Labyrinthian wilderness, Horror-wrought and merciless. All their actions stricken are; E'en their visions hold no star Nor their stammering speech a prayer. 24 But their souls In wonderment Beat against the blind Intent That steals their dower, the firmament. And they strain their sightless eyes To pierce the ever-darkening skies With cold Philosophy's surmise. Until the pitying touch of night Bids them cease such falcon flight And softly hoods their troubled sight. 25 TO A SCARLET TAN ACER. At noon, when quiet reigns among The bird-deserted trees, When eyes, earth-weary, upward turn A glimpse of sky to seize, I see thee light with wlldwood grace Upon a waving tree, I watch thee flash from sun to shade In fearless liberty. In proud delight the sun's rich blaze Gives challenge to thy sheen As, breasting the soft winds of May Thou swing'st in rapture keen. No tie of nest and mate withholds Thy new created Aving ; Life beckons thee on virgin flight. Thou blithe, unfettered thing! Such dower of beauty needs no song To meet perfection's test; Thy scarlet flashes through the soul, Thy muteness stills the breast. 26 RHAPSODY TO ETHEL Gentians blue, Am I thinking thus of you As I kneel in meadows fair Blown by golden autumn air, Culling you with quickened breath E'er you fade my touch beneath, Gentians radiant and rare? Beauty surely were enough For a heart that sought Haven for its thought! What else led me o'er the rough Close-reaped meadows, save Your sudden distant color-wave That ran the oozy pasture through Like a maiden's dream come true? As I crouch in grasses wet. Where the newly shining sun Works in fine equality With the rains that buried yet In the gloom of under-earth Knead and mold you to your birth. Gentians blue, you hand me on In a ringing tone, 27 To the memory of one Who hath called from morning zone Unto me, All her mating ecstasy ! Waking heart to wakened flower Out from west to east, Each a dawning for a dower With the light to be increased. Here for dawn-guest, as I ween, Musing all unseen, Lies my hidden heart between. Fair your petals' fringed outline Cut in delicate design. Folded outward royally ! I have never seen you so Wholly open, glad to throw All your store's intensity In the surge of light divine. So my maid hath ever been Sought but rarely seen, Like the shade your own fringe throws O'er your petals' beauteous blue. Lie the shadows for repose O'er her nature true. 28 They who seek you in the mist Under sullen skies Find you folded up In your spiral cup, Still a wonder to the eyes, But your hearts' blue all unkissed. They the many who have known All my maiden's folded charms, Courted her for grace. Or her loveliness of face, Seekers in the mist, they pass Half her worth too soon. Would they only wait this time When the glory of the day — Love-day for my lass — Wooes her spirit wide and calms All her wilfulness away. In the dawning of her prime They would win their boon. Gentians blue. Thinking thus of her and you, I hear the earth-pulse beat, I feel the divine fire 29 Beating, glowing to unite In the earth and air and ocean, Between hearts and eyes alight With the joy of high emotion Wrought to whiteness of desire. Set a'wing, Thus my heart goes caroling In the meadow at your feet, Gentians blue and rare and sweet. VISION Time is not long to me : Its gifts of days are like strong rivers flowing, Glad, because of unpent, outward going Unto a dreamed of sea. To mc Time is not long: The still nights lead in silvern rhapsody To morning hills where one awaiteth me With golden-fluted song. 30 To N. W. AND A. E. W. I He and dream of love. And thus I see But dimly through my fancy's hidden eyes llie distant spire of my Ideal rise Far beyond life, unsure and falteringly. And as a mother-bird distressfully Beholds her nestling's weakness as it flies, I see mine yearn in vain toward the skieii — I hear its bell-tones ring a wail to me. My vision fades. Then through the silence gray 1 hear the echo of Life's resonant speech: "Turn thee and see beside thee Life's strong way, Nor build thy Love beyond Love's very reach." I turn and see, across the sound of day Two lives that lean in silence each to each. 31 To M. L. D. Dear Garden Lady with discouraged air Let not your spirit suffer such defeat ! If other gardens seem to be as sweet, None can to yours in character compare. Not only flowers make a garden fair, Nor well-raked paths, nor borders trim and neat ; Though all be strictly ordered and complete. Such can exist, yet no delight be there. A Garden is a cloistered spot, enclosed From the rough-visaged world, and walled about With sweetness of fair thoughts and faithful toil And touch of love upspringing from the soil. Thus, when thy flower-nurslings blossom out, What gifts of spirit's sweetness lie disclosed! 32 To A Lovely Woman T know a soul that mocks at every thrill Nor to itself a lofty birth will own ; But with defiant knowledge overgrown Parries its questioning with curious skill. I know a soul that trembles and is still: A soul that shrinks and broods and sits alone Staring at wrongs, and counts them, one by one, As blighted children of a sinful will. The while it dwells in such an habitation As Goddess Beauty's self might deign to grace Nor find unworthy of immortal station. Alas ! that from this heaven-designed face looks forth the soul in such ill-spent vexation 'T would seem or soul or form were out of place. 33 WARTBURG CASTLE Uplifted high above the humble earth By the attending trees, within their hold That stand like caryatides of old, Thy strength of stone goes outward. Into birth; — Here scanneth thou the ages as they go As if they were mere shadows of bird flight Beneath thy turrets ! — they, whose chief delight Is, vassal-like, to lay their treasures low Before thee ! Oh Impenetrable stone, Imbedded with the gems of rarest lore That, like remembered suns, has steeped thy zone In light of buried days ! What unseen shore Absorbs thy vision? What unrisen sun Seest thou in contemplation evermore? 34 I lean far out across the casement sill Within the hall where Minnisingers strove And dream myself a thousand leagues abov^e Yon earthly paradise of vale and hill. I hear the lutes 'neath Minnisingers skill In faint old echoes sing of gentle love ; I see Elizabeth, the Rose-Saint, move Within her hallowed habitation still. I see that other high Edizabeth Who crowned Tannhauser with her constancy And, farther, o'er the courtyard's quiet gloom I see the glimmer of an humble room Where, stolen from an angry world away. Luther, imprisoned, nursed the new-born faith. 35 *** Not altogether do I dream of these Within their memorable walls of stone; But, when I stand at casements quite alone, And look upon the deepening vales of trees. My dreaming sight its own new vision sees And blossoms as a flower in the sun, Drinking the beauty that it looks upon In full abandonment of joy and ease. The legends sleep: the Castle wakes and lives; The past lies far: the present hovers near! The Wartburg stands ablaze on mountain crest- Oh hidden histories, seek your tranquil rest And leave me in my full possession here To take, in right of life, the gift it gives! 36 TO EGYPT What though we break with heedless light of day On thy sepulchral rest, so still, so vast, And from the ruined treasury of thy past Like thieves we bear thy buried hoard away. Mourn not oh Egypt! Still thy vault is deep With wealth that lies beyond our ruthless reach : Thy wisdom, locked before our questioning speech, Thy beauty, wrapped in its Imperial sleep. These keep as thine Imperishable store, Oh Hathor Egypt, till the world is done ; Nor grudge those things whose broken loveliness Recalls us from the living throng and press To seek, upon thy venerable shore. Their priceless rescue from oblivion. 37 VILLA MUTI I wandered o'er Frascati's lovely height Intent on inward thoughts and reveries, Beholding beauty with unseeing eyes ; When lo! there rose before my vagrant sight A place embrasured in the mystic light Of olden days and nursed in memories That hung it with an aureole of sighs; From whence I heard the stir of dead delight Rise in a ghostly rhythm and awake To words of soul-engendered solacement: " There once were two who lived their early dream Among our flowery ruins, and by our stream, LIntil life called and with their love they went. We give thee garnered sweetness for their sake." 38 REMEMBRANCE The seasons pass before mine eyes : — Budding Spring and new life caroling; Summer's fullness: — "Take or leave" It cries; Fire of Autumn's passionate besieging, Then Winter's death. — All pass before mine eyes Untouched. My heart Is answering Thy call from some dim paradise. MAY SONG Poplar crowned with blackbird, Valley veiled In mist. Fields of showery blossoms, Air of amethyst; Moon of moistened amber, Waters hushed In glades. Wistful love a'waking In the hearts of maids. 39 RHYTHM The slim moon points her will And the swinging tides obey. Hung on the tip of her horn Forward and back they sway; With ebb that swingeth, And liow that ringeth To and fro everlastingly. Under the horn of the moon Swing, with a rhythmic tide, Moods in the breast of man; With passionate pride Flowing in ecstasy Ebbing in misery, Infinitely unsatisfied. 40 PEACE 'Tis milking time: the peaceful cows, knee deep Within the fragrant clover and the grass, Stand mutely waiting for the time to pass Beyond the bars that lead to placid sleep. 'Tis falling eve : the fluttering birds are still, Lulled by the finished curfew of the thrush. 'Tis ended day, and faint across the hush From fallow fields the hopes of reapers thrill. 'Tis harbour time: the tired ships are home. The sails that leapt to breeze on morning's quest With finished purpose lie in evening's breast To dream of reefs that ring with baflled foam. 'Tis holy eve : up to God's waiting hand The fruits of human toil and thought ascend. How still ! How near us Godhead seems to bend In this reposeful rapture of the land ! 41 DAWN AND DAPHNE Daphne, maiden of the youthful morning, Racing winds with motion fleet, Daphne, spirit of the fragile dawning Hear thy comrades call to thee In warning ! Beware the foe ! Phoebus' bov/ Follows fast thy glancing feet. Softly shadows of the reeds and rushes Swing In newly wakened bliss. Shyly youthful field and meadow blushes, Nature's paean ends the long night hushes. Dawn and Daphne Daphne and the Morn ! In the East as sisters meet and kiss. Daphne, maiden, hush thy laughter's ringing, Lover hither hast thou led. Soul of morning, still thine untamed singing! Hide thee! Phoebus' burning shaft is winging! He catcheth thee ! — Oh! maiden-tree Think not that thou art Daphne — she is fled ! 42 SOVEREIGN SPRING Oh crocus-cup ! What fairy hand Doth lift thee up So daintily And airily? "I come in answer to the Spring's command." Oh shyest thought ! Who bade thee start, Uncalled, unsought. On trembling wing? "Love in spring Hath called me from the quiet of the heart!" 43 NEW YEAR'S DAY Swings In the rhythm of time, To and fro, The mighty pendulum Of joy and woe. Hung from the throne of the Holy One It measures life from zone to zone. Age answers age, as it swings To and fro. Weighted with messages Of joy and woe; Helpless and dumb, 'neath the pendulum. Driven as slaves by its go and come. Glorious rhythm and swing! Thy to and fro Touch at two points of eternity. This joy and woe Is soul's breath, outstripping death — The song swings wide, and the song is faith. 44 CAMOEN'S CRY " Sweetest eyes were ever seen," Hide thy fire while I press First awakened shy caress That betrays me truthfully: For the years that ne'er have been When I lived unknowing thee, For the future years apart, Lost delight and weary heart, Take this store for memory. But oh eyes, close-shut beneath Passionate fire of my breath, Slowly toward thee I lean: For the hours dear and dread I have looked thee deep within — Flaming hours quickly sped — Love, I live, I yield, possess, Eternity in this caress! Thus I leave thee; all Is said, " Sweetest eyes were ever seen." 45 MOON MAID The moon Is Diana tonight Forth on her maiden chase; Controlling her mad delight With Infinite grace. Leashed are the wondering winds To her tameless girdle of gold; Limitless waters she binds With the charm of her hold. Valleys and plains awake And lie In a marvellous maze; Dreams are dead, for the sake Of her magical gaze. Hearkens the huntress moon; Pauses amid her gladness — Endymion stirring soon Will waken to sadness! She slips from her shining sheath Into a sea of bliss, Wooes with her moon-born breath Earth-lover's kiss. 46 Scattered the starry chase, The tale of Its glory over: Run is the maiden race — Diane to her lover. 47 THE MINSTREL I came along the highway Over hill and dale Until at summer evening I reached a pleasant vale: A little hermit valley All wooded, wild, and still Save for the wind in the high pines And the lonely rill. I found a little lodging For wandering singers meet, The world of stars above me. The dark earth at my feet. I took my harp for singing As a minstrel may; But all my dreams and cadences Fell silently away. For in the vale at evening I listened and I heard The singing revelation Of a woodland bird. 48 GRIEF IN MAY After the rain the blue bird's song And the musical water rippling along — Oh ! well-a-day ! Strong Is the promise of blossoming birth When after April's rain the earth Gathers herself Into May. May! May! and Winter Is sped! The children's brows are garlanded! Oh ! well-a-day ! Heavy hearts must come not here, Dirges are muffled, madrigals clear Herald the morn of May. None will sing of thee. Sorrow mine ! Never a flower or leaf will pine ! Oh! well-a-day! From the merry world I stand apart, For my heart hath gone with another heart Over the hills of May. 49 WINTER MARCHES Wild marches, winter marches, where my heart is hiding The long reverberation of the hunter's tread beneath. Like a wild bird waiting for the call of mating Lies and follows close, for fear of wing-swift death; Whither do ye lead him by your lone-voiced beauty, Lead my own lone hunter of the hungered heart. Lure him ever onward o'er your mutable horizons Circean southern marches by your melancholy art? Stand I an outcast, all worship fallen from me — I, your vestal, tend no more your huge calm flame; For the light of gray-deep eyes doth draw me from your service And my hidden heart must ever haunt the way he came. Moon-marches, mute-marches, filled with mournful beauty Where the wild things sweep in flight across your open breast, 50 Where the longing uplands wander outward to the sunset, Where the brooding lowlands lie In unbound rest ; Far my hunter comes to woo your great untempled spirit, Seeks your borders whence the world like sun drops down. World-reft stands he ready for your dower: Call him and crown him and render him his own ! Wild marches, southern marches, woefully your dreams-winds Waft me wonder of desire, trellis me with bliss; Oh to be there, beauteous marches, where my heart is hiding When you greet my morning hunter with auroral kiss! 51 LOVE SONNETS AND LYRICS Upon the world I shut my tired sight And close in such sweet company of dreams I am inclined to think the world but seems And truth the dear deceptions of the night. Within his lonely cell the anchorite Stops not to ponder o'er the sun's real beams, The warrior heeds not the dying screams, But goes upheld by purpose through the fight. Whate'er each sees with power of inner thought Such lives for him, as truest truth of all, While facts but follow in its living train. Then why should I deny what dreams have taught Or put from me mine unseen coronal. My shut-in world, that dowers me with gain ? II Oh little dost thou know, mine absent friend, How warm a hearth-fire burns within my breast For thee to sit by, dream, and take thy rest Before thou journey to thy mission's end! Each hour the embers I renew and mend And consecrate anew to thy behest, Sure of thy coming, yet half fearful lest No thought o^* me, as torch, thy way attend. Oft times I wonder how thou farest there. Living thy life within the world of men Where I am absent ; and I cannot choose But falter; 'til my heart Its faith renews. Its happy vision, of the hour when I open wide the door and see thee there ! 53 Ill How dear thou art, my love ! how more possessed Of human sweetness, charm, and all delight, Than aught that challenges my constant sight Or lays strong siege to refuge in my breast ! Constrained with mutest reverence I stand Before my garnered memories of thee : Thy starry words, thy voice's melody, Eternal eyes, and tender-touching hand. While thus each single gift I contemplate Twofold the value grows: dower of the past In which reality is consummate; Then, that which sends the heart-pulse trembling fast. Dower of the future — hidden dreams, that wait Till they shall waken 'neath thy call at last. 54 IV When, one by one, I see the names of friends Like stars appear above me, proud and far, While I beneath them, small and insular, Lie dazzled by the light their -radiance sends; I can rejoice no envious thought offends, No earlier vain and bitter longings mar My soul's serenity. I now unbar With scorn of all my dreamed-of aims and ends The barriers that held me prisoner. And let a flood of feeling overpour; Rather a lavish giving to prefer Than keeping as I kept a miser store To feed self-love. Oh mine awakener! In loving others I but love thee more ! 5S V When as a child I sought in simple sleep The remedy for all my childish woes Nor ever from its hallowed breast arose Without new comfort, adequate and deep; So when in maidenhood I learned to weep And wonder at the spirit's greater throes, Then in the world of books I sought repose And thought through them my happiness to keep. Mere stages were they in development Which led me to the brink of deeper things Where I awoke upon the world of love. Since then nor books nor sleep my griefs remove; But only thought of thee doth lend me wings To reach more thought of thee, and rest content. 56 VI By all the ways of life I come to thee: Along the highroad of my common day In the full glare of trials that betray The frailties of my nature; I come to thee Along the woodpaths of my fantasy Where once my virgin spirit loved to stray In lone delight; rjnd when I climb to lay My burst of rapture near eternity; r come through vales where vespers have been ringing, What time my heart is touched with solemn grace; And last, with spirit 'neath its sorrow stinging, I reach thee in its secret mourning place. Thou my horizon art, my life enrlnging And o'er it like a star is set thy face. 57 VII Now I have learned the blanching bitterness Of roots that turn from cherished dreams of light To seek, among earth's treasures recondite The worth of courage and of truthfulness. Now have I learned the stem's long quietness That moulds Its longing for a rapturous flight To patient progress through the day and night, Hoarding the hope it trembles to confess. And now have learned the bud's enrlpening share To hold the secret It would fain disclose And of its grief, of gifts unrealized, Make future sweetness. Ah, how justly prized Will be each task, when once the perfect rose Of spoken love enfolds upon the air ! 58 VIII What shall I answer thee, how give thee, dear, Most wisely of the largesse of my store Of true affection? Shall I give thee more Than what thou deemest thine, as to a peer We seek to w^oo and dazzle? Or, through fear To let thee know thy fullest wealth before Thou speak'st the need, shall I but pass thy door With mite of offering? My heart sees clear "The second gift is best. So let me stay Within thy hidden tower, with eager sight To watch thy life's horizon, marking thence The assailing dangers and thy soul's defense. Oh, ready-armed with balms or with delight To meet thee, crowned or conquered, on thy way ! 59 IX Oh thou ! who to my spirit holdest up A chalice, brimming with the sacred wine Of love, see how my lips may not decline To drain the contents of the invisible cup ; But lean to quaff thine offering, be the sup Of dole or of delight! Thy gaze greets mine, And as across the cup my hands touch thine, A power Ineffable doth seem to stoop And breathe on us a miracle, a change Which quickeneth our senses into flame. And makes us part of some divinely strange Intent. Oh Love ! I question not the aim ! Lift me to look upon the boundless range Of loving, while I whisper close thy name ! 60 X At first, a quiet copse inhabited Half unbeknown within its sylvan green By some shy living thing, my life had been. Not guessing thee. Then, later, 'twas instead As if thou didst a hidden lustre shed: As when the moon at daytime, faintly seen, Herself scarce knowing what her coming mean, Hangs in a veiled wonder overhead. Now as a gray-w^alled garden lying near, Which only some dim mist of tears conceals, I know thee, feel thee, 'til almost I see Through these few words thyself in verity. True then, my heart from such deceit appeals And copse, and moon, and garden, disappear. 6i TO THE DREAM-BELOVED Dear one, thou who lookest not on mine anguish, Knowest not how eagerly under mine eyelids Love-flames sparkle and heat to exquisite rapture, Hear me Invoke thee ! Ah ! how tenderly now may I enfold thee ! Shower thee with all the delight of loving, Close thine eyes with invisible stress of kisses. Oh thou beloved ! Strong-browed hero ! under thine eyes deep fire Fell I prone as the winter snow before summer Song-mute, stark, while the rhythm of thy being Swept o'er me senseless! Lark like, soaring ere the sun hath risen. Pour I singing forth in unfettered freedom. Quench thou, love, the sound of my soaring voice in the Sun of thy presence ! Send I forth upon the deep sea of loving. White ships toward the goal of my desire; Heart-sick, watching their sails bend under the breezes. Farther and farther 62 Fluttering outward. Oh thou tender com- panion ! Would that I at thy strand with white wings folded Love weary, might be gathered to thy bosom, Stilled and completed! 63 ON A PORTRAIT I love thy portrait in the light, When as a beggared one I stand Drinking in a false delight At memory's strand. But ever deeper than at first Grows my love-thirst. Oh chalice of my love ! thou givest such sweet pain I turn — but ever eager, drink again ! I love thy portrait in the dark. When o'er night's lonely sea It is my spirit's bark In which I sail to thee. I sail within it through the night But at the coming of the light, Oh gentle bark ! thou castest me forlorn Upon the breakers of an alien morn! 64 EVENING REVERIE Recollections of my dear one rise Like wistful stars that steal upon the hour Half sure of welcome. As the day-worn skies Divest themselves of daylight's pomp and power And draw these prophets of deep quietness Unto their bosom in a mute content; So do I speed the fruits of restlessness, Take over me the robe of wonderment, And draw my recollections to my breast. All through and through suffused with happy rest. 65 SEA-BIRD Oh heart ! thou'rt like a sea-bird having come Too far in river-flight from the full sea Which is its home. It sweeps the air with proud majestic wing While its wild heart for waves is hungering, Its sight for sea-horizons, wide and free. Hadst thou, oh heart, some hunger unappeased Which those great acres of unfeeling thought To madness teased? Let thy wild flight bear northward, full and strong! There will thy silence answered be with song In whose delight thy woe will be forgot. For there, oh heart, thou passionate sea-bird, Lies all thy wing's desire, lies the one voice Thy heart hath heard. Fly to the far and ice-washed northern strand, Seek out thy love within that distant land Then, happy heart-bird, mate thee with thy choice. 66 SONG One dear face in my memory clear Lies as a star in a midnight mere; Trouble the waters, it gleameth still Ever alluring and magical. One dear face in my life is set As the crowning gem in a coronet; High o'er the level of peer and prince It gloweth in love's m.agnificence. One dear face in my heart lies deep Under the anguish of days that weep ; Weep as they one by one depart From their vestal watch in the hush of the heart. 67 HOPES All day a subtle feeling of unrest Hath lodged within my breast. All day a flock of little dreams hath striven An audience to be given. To such mad visitants what shall I say? .1 cannot tell them nay, They are so dear they may be partly true! Then it would never do To thrust them from me, they who are so dear Merely for fear. So since there is no better company I take them unto me. Even as the gods leaned sometimes from above To take in love. 68 SONG Fields and woods are Inundated With the earnest floods of spring; And my heart o'erflows with earnest Floods of sweet intentioning. When the waters have subsided Woods and fields will be at rest; And my heart shall find its quiet When it lies upon thy breast. 69 EXPECTANCY The delicate, dancing blossoms, Like an aerial sea, Are thrilling under the secret Of some new ecstasy. The gray-walled roads are quiet; The wistful, checkered shade Is languid with the perfume By lemon hedges made. Within the waiting thickets The silence grows to pain — It seems 'twill ne'er be broken Under the birds' sweet strain! Ah me ! this loveliness That lies but now so dumb. Would all break Into rapture If only thou didst come ! 70 IF THOU DID'ST COME If thou did'st come, what would this springtime be But realization of eternity? Would my sad heart have strength such joy to face? Nay love, dear love, then tarry thou a space ! What would all springtimes be, did'st thou not come? A birdless waste with all its rapture dumb! Then let my heart be glad, and fit for song. And love, dear love, oh tarry thou not long ! 71 COMPARISON Bird-flights, ever wending Farther yet and higher; Love-thoughts ever tending Toward their desire. Bird-flights that safely come To evening nest; Love-thoughts that sadly roam In love's unrest. Birds, follow your flight In the fetterless air; Thoughts, In thy free delight Have a care, Lest ye from your proud height Fall In despair! 72 LITTLE NEW MOON Little new moon of Hope High in the autumn sky, Stay, stay, nor yet In silvery silence set Under the western slope. New little moon on high ! Little new moon of Fear Shining so calm and bright, I weave me wonder-dreams Out of thy wizard beams. But ah! there falls a tear And troubles thy wayward light! Little new moon of Love, Brimming with bliss. Will ye so early go When the heart acheth so? Ah little moon remiss. Far in the sky above ! 73 JEALOUSY Oh Love ! I send my thoughts tonight Across the sea In such tempestuous, headlong flight To thee — Surely some few, with happier success Will reach the haven of thy tenderness ! I see thine eyes delight, I feel thee start To know them near; I see thee take them to thy heart ! — My dear, My own beloved ! I can scarcely bear That even they, my hostages, be there ! 74 PLAINT I held within my wistful hands Gifts for thee, But winter winds have wrested them Away from me. I sang the sweetest songs I know Into the air, But silence now has scattered them Everywhere. I nested visions of our joy Within my heart, But they too falter, since we are So far apart. Now I may only go within The temple dim And there, in tears, my little lamp Of faith I trim. 75 BLOSSOMS As frail and ghostly fruit-trees Bloom in early spring, My dreams of thee awaken In virgin wondering. In startled joy they tremble And bloom, and reach for bliss; They drink the heaven's wonder, The wing of passion kiss. I sadly watch these blossoms So delicate and fair — I know them doomed to perish Like wraiths upon the air. ^6 WINTER-GLOW Bare Is the light In the western sky — And the tall trees Are bare and high. Bare is the heaven Where one star gleams Bare Is the earth Of murmuring streams. Bare Is the nest Of Its mating bird — Bare Is my heart Of the voice It heard. 77 THE NORSE SPIRIT Hearken earth-dwellers ! Mine Is a strong song Star-flung, earth-gathered, Sweeping in rhythm Through the world's arteries. I am the Ice-born Necessity-nurtured ! Long ere the earth sap Sprang into action, But lay in the North land Glacier-buried, I was created. Here in the white world Silent and crystal I hoarded my man-brood. All uncompanioned Shone we as first stars Through desolation. (There was a dream Dwelling in South land, I smelt of Its sweetness, — The blossom was faded.) Down the dumb ages I led the migration Of men in their numbers, Dawn-reddened, mere forces Shaped out of chaos, Bearing their birth-rights From the mute Maker. Rung then the swords Of Northmen as conquerors Over the world ; Striking the death-blow, Singing the life-song, Strong in the struggle, The world their arena. Over sun-nations Breathed they an ice-breath; Ground the creatures Of gilded luxury. Under their iron, Bearing their baubles Like gods in mere laughter. New homes upsprung Under my guiding; Men became wiser-eyed, 79 Stronger, self-governed; While like a lynx-light Watched I among them. Oh the long thirst I bore ! This to assuage, They fretted the rivers — Chained the first flowing Of fierce mountain torrents. Slowly they sought out The laws of the forces ; Still I demanded. How with my hot touch I scorched them to action. How with unsleeping watch Pierced I their darkness, How I impelled them To rise through the earth-clay And stirred them to sense Of the dim Possible Whose hunted horizon Moves ever outward; — All this is scored By scrivening ages That mark and erase not. I was the Spark That under the embers 80 Kindled the life flame. Mine was the prow That sought out new waters. My hand directed The planting of standards. Mine was the voice That called in the conquerors Unto heart-service. Yet oh, earth dwellers, Hearken my history ! As watch-fires dwindle When watchers no longer Care for their warning; As war-tokens fail When warriors weary; So I became Divested of power. Looked I upon the world Strangely unheeded; Saw land and sea Striving and prospering; Saw all my own race Scattered and multiplied; Nations, communities. Far past my counting, 8i Divided the earth-space Each to his liking. All whose beginning Was under my teaching Now had become Self-working, marvellous. Then as a hurt god Brooked I no pity — Called on Oblivion To send me a sleep-draught — Rose in my last strength And uttered a prophecy: "Desire for freedom Shall waken among ye Race of my choosing! Then to our home-land I, your spurned leader Waking, shall lead you." As a spent force Returning to chaos Is swept past its knowing To some immense destiny And thence, without knowledge, Exists in a form 82 Not Itself but mere being; So I was up-gathered And ceased In my knowing. ***** Long did I lie Mere pulse-dust of ages, While the world history Chanted its measures; Until through my slumber Life-force came creeping — And all through my being I felt the glad vigor Surge in and sting me. Ha ! I awakened ! — Glad as a god I halted and hearkened. Whence came the night-cry? Not from the strange-throated Millions, race mingled. Who bear not their birth-rights ! Nay, not from aliens Self disinherited! Clear as the first call Of water to water 83 Over the spring-time, Trembling to enter Resuscitation, Came the sweet calling Across from the home-land, From the beloved. I flew to the ice-nest. Searching my man-brood. Aye it was time I answered your cry Oh race of my choosing! How came ye thus to this Season of sorrow, Freedomless, weaponless. Dumb among nations? Mind not your memories How in dim ages I led ye, my people. To conquer with strong sword The weakened sun-nations? Now I the Re-born Return at your calling ! As a glad eagle Poised for his swooping Stand I at last, 84 In glorious prime, On this shore of my seeking, Chff-bound and torrent-swung God-hewn and glorious. Hark to my strong song! I am the Norse God Fresh from the forces, Freedom my weapon. Forged by the ages. Voices of worlds Go by me in thunder. Time, as the dwelling Of earth-dreams, I conquer. Space, the unconquerable Limit of earth sight, I spare at my sword-point. And bid it return to Its birth-place in Being. Ties of the tenderest Making of women Snap in my holding. Song, with its sweetness Floating and following I with a wrenched blow Shatter its sequence. 85 Pity I stamp out, Yet grieve o'er the ashes. Gain, hke a star Blown out by night-winds, Headlong falls from me. Stripped of the world's gifts Stand I to conquer — Strong and untrammelled As the first world Rejoicing God made! Norway^ 1899. 86 TO A STATUE: MADONNA AND CHILD What Immortal guest art thou, Oh white enmarbled maid, Who standest In such wonder unafraid Upon the border of Time's closed abyss — Whose burled ages molded thee to this And left thee thus, with meek and crownless brow? In thy marble maidenhood, Thy bearing proud With lovely deprecation bowed. Thou art the form Incarnatlve Wherein doth live Eterne virginity of womanhood. See where hands have robbed thee of thy crown! But the attending years, that washed to white Thy carven robes with painted hues once bright — Have with their own true touch Left thee fairer clad In such A priceless patln-glow of amber brown. MInd'st thou maid where thou wert found Amid the broken marbles, In the gloom 87 Of Venice' stained and sunken room? Thou stood'st so meekly and alone, Thy loveliness half known, Thy meaning still in marble dumbness bound ! When a burst of sudden light Made the olden shadows start, Thy quiet heart, Noting nought of seekers near thy place, Dreamed back upon the hallowed grace Of hands that drew thee from the infinite. Nay, no passing of the throng and press Awoke thee. But thou heardest then The slow approach of one who, among men, Went lonely with thine image in his breast. Thou saw'st his eyes in recognition rest Upon thy consecrated loveliness. So cam'st thou strangely through the centuries Unsung as a mere violet well hid Within the wood's recesses, where all did Give unto thee thy slow-won store Of cosmic beauty which endows thee more Than sculptor's chisel, to the soul's true eyes. 88 Thy niche Is unadorned and bare Of votive offerings; No perfumed censer swings Across thy taintlessness; No priestly holiness Entunes its mystic ceremony there; Yet saint enshrined hath ne'er possessed Rarer gift of reverence Than the flame that burns Intense In the deep heart of thine own Priest and lord and slave in one, Whose mute service folds thee round with rest. 89 ART Too great is love while loving For heart to realize, Too dear is song while singing To treasure e'er it dies. But lying in seclusion, When life is overpast, The heart its joy remembering Creates the song at last. 90 i^m