PS 3503 /\»A V* 1 ♦*V ^ • ••* A ^ vv £ «... ^ o> . .... **. but clever in conception and construc- tion, they are most versatile in in- spiration. Always clear, the thought and feeling are often very fine, the translation of a sane attitude towards life. In humor and geniality, also, they show distinct success. Manifestly, we find here an efficient nature, original, courageous, capable of communicat- ing the emotions it has experienced. Friends will be delighted with this memorial of brave accomplishment, and strangers must respect the breadth of sentiment, the ingenuity, and the just thought expressed. While in no way claiming for this little volume a permanent place in poetry, I feel confident that it will yield a genuine human joy and ser- vice to others, as it has to me. Separation from the manuscript precludes quotation or mention of favorite titles, but I have read all the poems, and at least a dozen and a half of them, in part or in whole, are noteworthy, a good proportion in any poetic output. I write this foreword in simple justice towards one not known to me, who, in life's heavy handicap, ran well, and showed true form in the defeat of death. MERLE ST. CROIX WRIGHT, C ontr exville , France. July, 1913 INTRODUCTION INTRODUCTION The poems that make up this little volume were written by my husband as a diversion, without thought of publication. During the last five years of his life his eyesight began to fail him, the shadows finally deepening into total darkness. His career as an active business man had cut him off in greater part from the com- munion with Nature which had filled his earlier life, while it had deprived him of opportunity for meditation, which to him was a spiritual neces- sity. Now, however, shut out from the activities of his former life, he saw again the glory-tinted sunsets of his childhood and wondered; the soft twilights touched him again with their mystery; in spirit he per- ceived the mists that hung high up the mountain side; he knew again the ways of the wood, and trembled before the mighty roll of the waves. His reflections, too, took a more ser- ious turn. Man, the nature of him and his destiny, his laughter and his tears, was also a never-ending subject of contemplation, while he had his gayer moods that enlivened his hours while they enriched his personality. 11 This life was bound of necessity to express itself, and this it did in the poems that follow, poems which gave voice to his conviction of the reality of man's inner life and of the things of the spirit, as expressed in this wish concerning his verses: Perchance I may light up a soul That gropes in darkness on its way ; My wave of thought may onward roll, Despite the rocks that bar my way. My husband was born March 30, 1 2>4 3, in Wayne, Steuben county, New York, on an eminence that com- manded a scene of surpassing beau- ty, a landscape that embraced fertile fields, wooded valleys, winding streams, placid lakes, with the beau- tiful blue of the sky above. Owing to the protracted illness of his father, he was forced out into the world and obliged to give up his preparation for college and learn the masons' and builders 1 trade of his father, later on becoming an expert mechanic. Thus from the very be- ginning his outward career was strangely at variance with the ideals which were his inner self. In time he entered the field of life 12 insurance and came to be recognized as one of the prominent insurance men of New York City. His activi- ties in this field, together with the attainment of the highest degree in Free Masonry, brought him into con- tact with all classes of people and made him unnumbered friendships. My husband cared not for the beaten paths. His ways and words expressed themselves in striking orig- inality that seemed as a splendid background for the expression of his sympathetic nature. For love dom- inated his whole life. u His love for humanity was his God." He passed out of this life in the Holy Week {April iy) of 1905 at Brooklyn, where he had spent the greater part of his days. In choosing the poems which make up this volume, I have en- deavored to select those which rep- resent my husband's varied moods, from the philosophic and the abstract to the playful and human, and it is my hope, as it would have been his, that they may impart to the reader the same courage that the thoughts and emotions expressed therein in- spired in him. E. F. S. BURDGE. 13 CONTENTS CONTENTS PHILOSOPHICAL One's Thoughts 23 Vibrations 24 Genesis and Evolution 25 Life 26 Stillborn 27 Pessimism and Optimism 28 Doubt 29 Ishmael's Lament 30 Sail On 31 God's Acre 32 The Dead Actor 34 An Epitaph 35 A Funeral Address 36 A Log 37 Wants Are Not Needs 38 Look Up 39 HUMANITARIAN Hymn of Humanity 43 Wickedness of War 45 LOVE The Hidden Dart 49 The Love Song of a Sprite 50 To 51 17 CONTENTS— Continued When This You See, Remember Me 52 Incense 53 Thine Admiring Hand 54 Hope's Promise 55 Love and the Lion 56 Love 57 CHILDHOOD An Epigram 61 To Baby Norma 62 The Child is Father to the Man . 63 HUMOROUS A Country Courtship 67 The Rivals 68 To an Old Maid 69 Girls of My Boyhood 70 The Sleigh-Ride 71 Dollars and Sense 72 Heartburn 73 NATURE The Three Birches 77 May-Day Morn 78 The Mariner's Observation 79 Tempest-Wrecked 80 18 CONTENTS-Continued The Whippoorwill 81 The Egg of the Mocking Bird ... 82 The Drumming Partridge 83 To a Fledgling 84 The Thunder Heads 85 A Summer Evening 86 Twilight 87 Sunset 88 A Snowflake 89 The Harvesting 90 19 PHILOSOPHICAL ONE'S THOUGHTS If one be not inspired To cheer the heart that seldom sings, And soul too often tired, One knows not why one writes these things. Yet ever comes to me the thought That lifts me high my travail o'er : To us, Love's lamp is brought, All bright and beautiful before, That we may lead the weak who grope From darkness into light and hope. 23 VIBRATIONS There is no tone launched from the bell, That all diverging doth not swell Throughout the universe, a knell; No raptured note in song, Nor whisper aye that doth not wake All stilly nature and o'ertake On endless shores the waves that break From tempests loud along; No human breath that doth not bear Unto Omnipotence the prayer For life immortal, from the heir Dependent on God's grace. And so through Spirit vibrates Thought, Divine Intelligence in-wrought, Which order out of Chaos brought, And lit the realms of Space. 24 GENESIS AND EVOLUTION Hail to thee, queenly Sea, all hail! Thy wondrous waves enshrine the Earth- When first they rose, kissed by the Gale, Thy quickened soul gave Neptune birth; Then died the Gale, from whose last breath Came gentle Winds — life out of death! Crowned by the Winds the new god sate On throne of foam in regal state; And Naiads came, of gracious mood, To serve their lord ; then came the Plan- Embodiment of spirit, good, Essence of All — evolving Man! 25 LIFE What is this life? Life is experience — nor more Than much acquaintance, o'er and o'er, With love and strife ! 26 STILLBORN Naught of Creation ever dies! In all the world there is no place For aught that does not change, and rise All spirit-rapt, all in God's grace. Each soul a bud is born, alone, Alone to stand, nor prone to fall; And though it go in breath unknown, Its essence lives through ages all. What though it fail to blossom here ? Its germ though of the living past, Shall nurture find on other sphere, And there its bloom and fruitage cast. And on, with joy, through space and time — The measure of eternity — Throughout the universe, sublime — Immortal still, beloved shall be. 27 PESSIMISM AND OPTIMISM Where now I seem a dream — may be I soon shall be a memory ; Unhappily and finally No thought of me! Yet, dreaming of myself I see Emancipation — Liberty And happily, and finally, I shall be free. 28 DOUBT The hardest link of life all know- Is that we grope in here, The while we tread this earth and go Confused in hope and fear — It is the doubt that wears us out — And kills us here ! 29 ISHMAEL'S LAMENT If I am not the child of sin, I am a waif adrift by fate ; Else why this desert-thirst within, And hungering with the pang of hate? All waterless, the waste before With scorch of sun seems me to scorn, 'Mid cactus thorns that wound me sore; Why husks for me, for others corn? None meet me e'er but to reprove, And aim at me the scourging rod, Nor love — save mine own mother's love — O Abraham, thou man of God! 30 SAIL ON Sail on, my soul, o'er life's great sea! My heart thy frail though buoyant bark, 'Mid worlds that star Immensity, Nor Ararat yet for thy ark, Sail on. Sail on! God's beacon smiling o'er Thy onward way, though winds may wail, All brightly beams through mists before — Fear not in darkness, nor in gale — Sail on. 31 GOD'S ACRE No grave-yard sod O'er lifeless clod Of them "Beloved" and "Now With God" Is dear to me; But where they dwelt and justly trod With velvet foot or iron shod, Spots sacred be ! Nor storied stone, Erect or prone, Can be their monument alone Of lasting praise ; But deeds of love and mercy shown : Those who forgive and who condone Shall live always. Why sorrow round The soul-less mound Or mausoleum, ivy -bound, Above the pall, Where Silence seals the lips of Sound ? The whole earth is Man's burial ground — God's Acre all! 32 The kindred earth, Where Death and Birth Linked hands enmesh in all its girth, This orb mundane, Where Life is Love, nor Death is dearth But constant Change unwombing Worth- Man, born again! n THE DEAD ACTOR Death is the ever shifting scene In Life, the drama ever on ; The curtain drops the acts between ; Exit the Actor, the audience gone, The while it turns its back, and lo! Because it does not see him yet, Retires in silence, row on row, Mayhap to mourn, perchance forget ! He played his part, nor mimics more ! His time was come, his turn to go, Nor hence but here, the lights before, In Nature's cast himself to show. Ay, Life is a continuous play ! The universe a boundless stage; The audience changing every day, Both old and young, where Youth and Age Take parts, while seeing others make Their entrances and exits, all, In r61e to laugh, in turn to quake — A comedy with tragic fall ! 24 AN EPITAPH Mayhap some little flower will grow Above my desert clod, Serenely sepultured below This consecrated sod, And if such flower perchance you see, Accept it as a gift from me. Take it, or leave it, as a sign That still I live, a soul, And that no grave could me confine, No fate my ghost control: For I was born with spirit-breath To live alway — to rise o'er Death. 35 A FUNERAL ADDRESS Why shed the tear Beside the bier That bears this broken clay? Why mourn him dead Whose breath hath sped, Who hath not gone astray ? Do all not know That none can go Hence from this mundane sphere ? Nor hence the soul To reach its goal Of heaven when heaven is here? This earthly frame Is but the name Of Him in whom we move — The part that lives Of God, who gives Nor takes away His love. Man's birth, in breath And walk and death, Is set for mortal eye, Yet may we see Love's mystery, Of Life, before we die, As all, perforce Must die, in course Of Nature's perfect plan, And sequent be Divinity — God, in the perfect Man. 36 A LOG First entry on Ambition's log : "Sailed out into a boundless fog. With Faith for compass, Hope for chart, My crew my hands, my mate my heart." Last words that blot the final page : "My cruise is o'er from youth to age; Would I have braved it had I thought What cost me all, might bring me naught?" 37 WANTS ARE NOT NEEDS Sleep on thy wants; they are not needs That rise through nature, craving, But wishes vain that Fancy breeds, Their loss thy gain and saving ! Wants are ephemeral, and die From scorn and inattention; But needs necessities imply That brook no contravention. Sleep on thy wants, ne'er more alive Than when thy needs debating ; Wants will expire where needs sur- vive The test supreme — thy waiting. 38 LOOK UP Look up ! The sky is bright, Despite the clouds, and glad; The day succeeds the night ; Why thou, the while, so sad? Tears are of life the showers ; No clouds, no tears to fall, Nor watered soul — no flowers; Nor aught, with sunshine all! 39 HUMANITARIAN HYMN OF HUMANITY God of the Universe, Were Death not Life for aye To me, how dire a curse, Created but to die! On this terrestrial ball, The seasons illustrate The birth and death of all In Nature, Thy estate; Birth is of Life the flower, And Death the perfect fruit; Both branching from one power, Each springing from one root. From Thee all things have grown; Of them Thou art the heart; In Thee I trust, alone, Of Thee I am a part ; Thou mad'st me what I am In human frame, and soul; Nor me Thou can'st not damn — Creator of the Whole! My reason is my guide In what I dare and do, The while I breast the tide Of changes, passing through; I nothing have to fear, Believing that, for me, Eternity is Here, And Immortality. 43 Here in Thy royal sway, While I before Thee bow, Each day the Judgment Day, My retribution, now. Of other world of bliss, Of other realm of woe, Save what is still of this, Am I somewhere to know ? 44 WICKEDNESS OF WAR What shame that nations draw their blades Across each other's throats! What shame that freemen shun their spades To man the murder boats That gore the bosom of the sea, In thy dear name, O Liberty! What crime to launch the floating forts, Crypts fit for cowards fell, Who, sneaking, peer from hooded ports To speed the deadly shell, And, with Satanic art deploy, That they the more may more destroy. What blasphemy to pray for God To curse a brother's cause : What mockery to blood the clod Whose crust pale Hunger gnaws! What sacrilege for orphans made To order by the murder-trade! 45 Cry "On!" ye demagogues from hell, Ye hawks that beak the dove ; And smile, ye hypocrites who tell Of Jesus and his Love. Gloat o'er your gory heaps of slain, Ye unregenerated Sons of Cain! Disciples of the Prince of Peace, How long, and yet how long, Ere war, unholy war, shall cease, Ere Right shall vanquish Wrong? When shall the Master's will be done And victory over war be won ? 4 6 LOVE THE HIDDEN DART Warm from Love's quiver in thy heart, I felt a tiny, rosy dart That, diamond-pointed, nearer drew And pierced my soul with thrill anew. I did not see that dart, that star Of Hesper's gleam, for brighter far Beamed th' effulgence of thine eyas As mine they met with sweet sur- prise, And lit thy bosom veiled aglow In graceful curve — blind Cupid's bow Whence to my breast had sped his lance — Of love — O Heart, with dart and glance! 49 THE LOVE SONG OF A SPRITE Than lisp of lilies that rejoice In whispered love their own, More gently breathed her dulcet voice So sweet in wooing tone — A rhythmic flow o'er tinkling bars That on my senses rang, And flashed like chant of twinkling stars When they together sang! 50 TO O would that I could render The homage I would pay, In language yet more tender, Heart, than I essay; But words me fail to measure My gratitude of heart, To thee, my Dear, my Treasure, 1 would, in love, impart — Not love of swain all sighing In sentimental rhyme, But love in twain, undying, In poesy sublime. 51 "WHEN THIS YOU SEE, REMEMBER ME!" My Dear, my Love, my Sweet, my Own, How many years o'er us have flown Since first we met ? I love thee yet! Ah "weel I ken" those soft, brown eyes That looked on me with coy sur- prise — I'll ne'er forget, — I love them yet! Thy winsome smile 'round rosy cheek, Where blushes played at "hide-and- seek," I still enjoy Without alloy. 52 INCENSE I look into thine eyes And see my soul reflected there — Its clear and clouded skies In trust and truth beyond com- pare. For thou art part of me, That goodly part to which I turn, And where my heart I see All mirrored, on Love's altar burn. 53 THINE ADMIRING HAND The touch of thine admiring hand Enthralls my soul with sweet desire; So trustful at thy soul's command, I melt the while in holy fire — Thy kiss bestowed with loving zeal In spirit welds our hearts as one ; Nor rapture carnal this I feel, But souls in blissful unison. 54 HOPE'S PROMISE Precious! Call me, shouldst thou lose me When dark shadows round thee fall, When depressions dire distress thee, Or if Doubt doth thee enthrall; When thou needest inspiration, When thou cravest inward light, Or hath want of consolation ; And, like Day that comes to Night, I will come to thy assistance, Where in darkness thou doth grope, With my light, until in Distance Fear shall vanish, — I am Hope! Mine the star to Faith transcendant, Steadfast in yon Polar glim — Thine shall be, nor less resplendent, Thine, dear soul, Hope never dim. 55 LOVE AND THE LION What is the Lion in our frame, That Love fain would subdue ? The untamed torrent and the flame That from the heart rage through ? Can him Love bind with silken skein — The milder power span, — And rein him while she strokes the mane Of Passion caged in Man? 56 LOVE Love! What is love? Is it a flame, Or Nature by another name ? A babe that my twin query heard All smiling, uttered not a word! "Say! What is love, my little Miss?" Her answer was a hug and kiss. "Coy maiden, blushing in thy bower, Speak! What is love? Speak, pretty flower!" She answered from her floral cell: "I know, but do not care to tell." "Dear! What is love?" I asked my wife. "Love?" echoed she. "Why! love is life — Love is the boundless universe, Where, save for love, life were a curse." I asked a mother, ripe with age : "Pray, what is love? Read me its page In thy sealed book, prized more than gold!" "Twould be 'the old, old story' told Anew," said she; "its charm thy form With all a soul's affections warm." O Love! Thou art no fitful flame, But Nature by another name. 57 CHILDHOOD AN EPIGRAM Sweet babe, soul-blossom at thy birth Transplanted from fields of heaven, To grow 'mid weeds of sin on earth, And damned, if sullied, unforgiven : What didst thou there that sent thee here, When thou wast blossoming above, Where joy knows not the bitter tear ? Why staid thou not where all is love? Thou couldst not stay thy coming? — No? Immortal child of human heart, Nor wished to stay when called to go : O seed divine, God's counterpart! 51 TO BABY NORMA Bright bud, in white and pink and blue. Sweet amaranth, in flossy snow! Whose eyes the sky hath lent its hue, Whose cheeks are dashed with morning's glow, So dainty is thy lovely form — Methinks thou didst not spring from clay, But, Heaven-born, came with the charm Of Paradise, to stay alway! €2 THE CHILD IS FATHER TO THE MAN In revery I was thinking, Thinking of the days of yore, When a baby, winking, blinking, Crept up to me on the floor, And uprising, Me surprising, "Daddy" said, and nothing more. "Daddy? I am not your daddy!" Answered I in puzzled thought ; Baby echoed, "I'm your daddy, "Though I'm but a tiny tot, "Wordsworth said so "And it is so. "Think you so, or think you not." 63 HUMOROUS A COUNTRY COURTSHIP The moon was like a locket bright And as it gayly swung, Resplendent from the neck of Night The jeweled stars among, Two lovers, sitting on a rail — A fence whereon they clung Together like a close reef'd sail — Talked in an unknown tongue. He was the Count de Stutterer, She, lisping Widow Prim; He'd set his heart on catching her, She'd set her cap for him; And much they said, and long they sat, The eagle and the dove, When broke the rail and both fell flat And so they fell in love ! 67 THE RIVALS Diana through the heavens wheeled, Her lovers were the stars, Her bow the crescent from her shield, Her darts the shining bars; And with her chariot of light, Her garb a jealous frown, This blonde pursued her rival Night, The coy brunette in gown. TO AN OLD MAID O yearning soul and hungry heart, There is somewhere in this wide sphere Thy complement — thine own part Which, though it seems not with thee here, Doth turn to thee, lone, like thou art — True as to pole the compass* dart. Afloat on Life's tempestuous sea, Launched like thou wast to cruise alone, There is a barque in search for thee That thou canst fondly claim thine own, When lo, the port of both shall be The haven of Felicity ! GIRLS OF MY BOYHOOD 'Tis half a century since when I first began to know And love the country maidens then In girlhood's carnate glow; Those blithesome belles of town and farm Each lass a budding queen, Each natural in her grace and charm, Nor artificial mien. Naught is to me more sweet Than memory of the girls I met; And, when we hap to meet, I see the same dear girlish ways, And gladsome eyes . . . and tears, And feel the love of boyhood-blaze, O'er half a hundred years! 70 THE SLEIGH-RIDE Single, single; Jingle, jingle; Mingle, mingle; Tingle, tingle! 71 DOLLARS AND SENSE Ten get their living by their wits Where one through learning thrives; But they who have the rare tidbits, Get fortunes with their wives; To benedicts the luck thus brought Is not in pounds and pence ; True fortunes got with wives are not In dollars, but in sense. 72 HEARTBURN I sigh not for society — It does not satisfy; Nor do I crave variety My taste to gratify; I long for contrariety — To eat with due propriety, And all impunity Of onions to satiety Nor feel of sore anxiety Save for immunity ! 73 NATURE THE THREE BIRCHES Deep in the shadows of the wood, All on the mountain side, Three leaning silvered birches stood To guard the while and hide — Not treasure-trove, But sleeping Love. 77 MAY-DAY MORN Apple blossoms pink and white, Bedeck the orchard rows along, Where mating birds wake morning light With rhapsody of springtide song ; While bursting buds the while perfume The breezes bland that o'er them pass, And pearly petals, dropt from bloom, All starred with dewdrops, gem the grass; The chanticleer with clarion throat, The quacking duck and peacock gay, And turkey vain with gobbling note, Chime with the welkin rounde- lay, And clatter-clink of hoof and horn On pebbly path to stream and lea — All nature greets the May-day morn, The Springtide joy, Love's jubilee. 78 THE MARINER'S OBSERVATION There is a stillness fills the air, A silence so severe I feel a storm is brewing there Where sky yet seems so clear. But if what seems is truly so Why care for what I feel, Of storms that brew ? Why go below While yet on even keel ? Our bark is staunch, with rudder true, — And yet we'll reef the sail : Though storms ne'er break the while they brew, We'll be ready for a gale ! 79 TEMPEST-WRECKED I. See yon black billows grasp the clouds And drag them o'er the venge- ful sea, With groaning hulks and shrieking shrouds, While wolf-like lurks the snarl- ing lee ! II. Gaunt, ghastly crows in gruesome flight Caw o'er the flotsam of the wrecks — The shredded sails, the corpses white, The splinter'd spars, the stranded decks. so THE WHIPPOORWILL Hark! The whippoorwill is calling Plaintively in tuneless trill; Lo! the sunset shades are falling, Curtaining the tinkling rill, Hanging from the aspens sighing Ominously of their woes, Ambient where the night-hawks, flying, Stir the songbirds from repose. Night comes on with starlight teeming, Mantling mountain, vale and lake, Splendent in the moonbeams stream- ing- Jeweled where the ripples break! Comes, in all her glory shining, The expectant bride of Day ; Yet the whippoorwill, repining, Sombers all with saddened lay. 81 THE EGG OF THE MOCKING BIRD A chrysalid, with plumage pent, To burst in broidered feathering; A bud of soulful sentiment To bloom in rapture on the wing! Thy throatings are a mellow flute, And piping airs, and liquid trills; Their echoes wake the woodlands mute, And hush the murmur of the rills. 82 THE DRUMMING PARTRIDGE Here shall no more the partridge come — Yet, hark! Me thinks I hear him drum His trysting taps in sylvan shade, As is his wont for love's parade: With bated breath, and poised wings Vibrating, as he deftly brings Them to his breast, first clapping slow, In low crescendo strokes that grow Louder the while and faster still, Till with a rapt electric thrill, The muffled echoes of his thrum Resound in one sonorous hum. Now, watch! Alert to foil surprise, He stately stands with kindling eyes, And silent waits in eager mood The coming of his wary brood. 83 TO A FLEDGLING Blind birdling, naked as the hand That fonds thee, quivering in its clasp, An aspen in a zephyr bland, Dost shrink as from a giant's grasp ? I feel thy heart beat wondrous strong With life that throbs thy veins along. Ah! we are friends. Thou lift'st thy head, Thy hornless beak gapes with a smile As if expecting to be fed. Thou little beggar, mute the while, Soon shall thy voice love's prompt- ings feel And revel in ecstatic strain. Soon shall the filmy veils that seal Thy ruby orbs be rent in twain. With hesitating wings half raised I see thee, perched upon thy nest, Where the first beam of morn hath blazed A trail of light from crest to crest. And up, far up, beyond the blue Beyond the golden gates of dawn, Like other friends I fondly knew, In sunshine glimpsed, in shadow gone. 84 THE THUNDER HEADS Behold yon silvered thunder heads, The big-wigs near the setting sun, Where all serene the azure spreads Far o'er the evening's golden run: Yon fleece-capped mountains on the march, Yon monarchs with carnations crowned, Whose falchions leap from zone to arch, Whose lightnings flash with ne'er a sound ! 85 A SUMMER EVENING The stilly evening draws apace With darkling train and mant- ling hood That with their dreamy veilings grace The limnings of the hill and wood. The stealthy shadows drowse the dale And drape the bars of gold and gray Far down the stream that threads the vale Round which the twilight tintings play. 86 TWILIGHT How sweet the summer evening's close, The stilly, restful twilight hour, When peaceful Nature finds repose, Lulled by a dreamy, witching power So all-impelling in its sway That to its influence we yield, Surrend'ring all at close of day, With full desertion of the field. We lay our cares and banners down Like those who feel their work is done — That theirs tomorrow is the crown, And theirs today the victory won. 87 SUNSET The sunset glimmers on the stream, And shimmers through the wood Where shadows break the waning beam Of sunshine o'er the flood ; Bright clouds afloat in ambient blue Are mirrored from on high In placid pools of sable hue, Neath grassy shores anigh. And silently the sylvan eaves In emerald and gray Hang o'er the spell that Nature weaves And veil the gleaming day. 88 A SNOWFLAKE amaranth in feathered spray, Thou wast a dewdrop, heaven- distilled, Now fallen from the milky way, Art gemmed in filigree enchilled ; 1 greet thee with as great delight As if thou wert a star of night. THE HARVESTING Night, lanterned o'er us, darked the dome That canopied the worlds below, While at our feet the ocean foam Disported with the ebb and flow, And tossed in garlands on the lee, The lily-blossoms of the sea. "O Muse!" quoth I, "what see'st thou In yon grand vista of the west ?' The southern zephyrs fanned her brow, Moist with the kisses from the crest Of the inrolling moonlit wave, What time she sweetly answer gave : "I see yon hiltless sickle swing The swaths of moonbeams leaning low, While gleaning waves the gavels bring O'er tiny hills with corn aglow — The golden harvesting at last Of bread upon the waters cast ! 90 "These zephyrs from the sunny clime I ween o'er stubble-fields set forth To filigree the girdling rime, And meet the breezes of the north That winnow on the crystal floe Their harvestings of downy snow ; "And on to that Boreal land, Whence Winter dark with chilly breath Soon must descend with icy hand And sow broadcast the seeds of death, Whose harvest mortals dread to reap, But yet is gleaned in windrows deep. " 91 V18 In » o ^ v % - *«** : mM\ ***** .^^»^ -\/ :£te v*1 M •-■••^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. &p Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide vP Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 " 4? 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