PS 3505 
 .fl794 
 B6 
 
 1909 
 Copy 1 
 
 OOH of Mapsi 
 
 Jf. &pbnor Cartmell 
 
Class _ 
 
 Book . ^7^ /36 
 
 Copyright ]^". 
 
 nofi 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
lion 
 
 ■ hl^'^ 
 
 Copyright 
 
 1909 
 
 F. Sydnor Cartmell 
 
 248308 
 

 Yesterday's Reflections 
 
 Today's Thoughts 
 
 Tomorrow's Dreams 
 
A BOOK OF DAYS 
 
The First, or Puritan Day 
 
 Elected to be Lost 
 
 ♦ ^P^ WAS the time of a revival, 
 f^ And Satan's work was slack. 
 '*I must find me some new victims, 
 And keep closely on their track. 
 
 "There's a baby new and crying, 
 ''I'll just send an imp of sin. 
 
 Show it the way of transgression, 
 And then I'll gather it in. 
 
 "Besides she has come on Friday, 
 I claim all rights to that day. 
 
 On that day my very best workers 
 Are freed from their bodies of clay. 
 
 "I'll just send the demon of mischief. 
 To tempt her first step wrong, 
 
 And the next wrong step will be easy, 
 'Til she join my innumerable throng. 
 
 "I shall tempt her with vanity first, 
 The flattery of worldlings and knaves; 
 
 Surround her with pleasures alluring, 
 Then give her the homage she craves. 
 
"Then shall follow woe and heartache, 
 
 Sorrow and grim despair; 
 Poverty comes as a horror, 
 
 Bringing hunger and care. 
 
 "There'll clouds of woe fall about her. 
 Husband and children will die, 
 
 Persecutions, a widow's portion. 
 Will measure of misery supply." 
 
 10 
 
School-Days 
 
 rHE girl was eighteen, and very 
 fair. 
 With lofty ideals and brilliant hopes; 
 The boy was twenty, with the college air 
 Of holding the world and ''knowing 
 the ropes." 
 
 *'I love the ground beneath your feet," 
 He said, and watched her fair, sweet 
 face; 
 
 "You are to me an angel, crowned 
 With every virtue, every grace. 
 
 "I love the dog your hand caressed, 
 I'm glad he's not in human guise; 
 
 I envy him, like one possessed. 
 His nearness to your lovely eyes. 
 
 **See! here I beg for one kind glance; 
 
 One gentle look on me bestow; 
 You say, you think I'll have a chance, 
 
 And like the dog, perhaps I'll grow." 
 
 11 
 
Lonna, or Days of Dissipation 
 
 rHE light flared out in the temple, 
 That temple of your soul; 
 The mind was blinded bv passion, 
 To drink bevond control. 
 
 And where did vou o-o, I wonder — 
 
 To one of the million stars ? 
 You were so fond of red paint, 
 
 I'm sure you stopped at Mars. 
 
 No matter, you're building better 
 Than those that jeer at stars; 
 
 And think that heaven is higher. 
 And there's only fire in Mars. 
 
 But I know you loved the best. 
 
 And reached for it once in a while; 
 
 The long-faced deacons prayed for you, 
 While happiness came with your smile. 
 
 Happy-go-lucky, debonair. 
 
 Going a pace that's wild. 
 Tender and gentle, if only human — 
 
 To man and woman and child. 
 
You were always glad to be kind, 
 
 And gayest in the dance; 
 Will the praying men with hidden sins 
 
 Have a great deal better chance ? 
 
 13 
 
A Day of Dreams 
 
 ^H^H! What is this Hfe but a love-dream ? 
 ^L^ All earth things if left uncaressed ? 
 Does n't the dew find the heart of the flower ? 
 Does n't the flower hold it close to its breast ? 
 
 Does n't the sun kiss the rose 'til she blushes ? 
 
 He gives her the life she holds dear. 
 Does n't the grape owe its bloom to a rain- 
 drop ? 
 
 The joy of its birth to a tear ? 
 
 It is love holds you close in the arms 
 
 Of one whose star you will be; 
 His love is a rapturous bondage, 
 
 From which it is death to be free. 
 
 His blood has a touch of the South, 
 
 His heart feels the things that you feel, 
 
 Responds to unspoken wishes — 
 Perfection in life you reveal. 
 
 You are one, through years that will follow, 
 
 And one if joy only be heard. 
 Together when your thoughts seem too holy, 
 
 And too pure for the touch of a word. 
 
 14 
 
The Feast of the Assumption 
 
 August Fifteenth 
 
 ^^ OR the love of God, little girl, 
 ^^^r You think the world well lost; 
 You will live your life to serve Him, 
 Nor care to count the cost. 
 
 The cost is the world's poor estimate 
 
 Of the pure life you live; 
 The world sees the fair, sweet face, 
 
 And thinks that too much to give. 
 
 You are so filled with the love of God, 
 There can be no bodily pain; 
 
 The Christ-life so fills your spirit, 
 That the living is glorious gain. 
 
 Bend low o'er the sick and aflflicted; 
 
 Heal the bruised reed at will; 
 Troubles are just human error. 
 
 To passion, command, "Peace, be still 
 
 In the name of the dear Son, go forth. 
 
 Into all the world revealing 
 The mission Christ gave the saints. 
 
 To minister and do the healing. 
 
 15 
 
June 
 
 rHE play of the rill is music, 
 All nature is atune, 
 The single note of the whippoorwill 
 Makes a symphony in June. 
 
 A crescent moon is rising, 
 
 Bringing a mystic light; 
 The one sad note of the whippoorwill, 
 
 Has in it peace tonight. 
 
 Then come away, world-weary, 
 From fashion's pace that kills. 
 
 Turn suddenly out of the rushing. 
 To the "peace of Eternal Hills." 
 
 Here the whippoorwill sings to the stars. 
 
 The laurels are all in bloom. 
 The trees are whispering vespers, 
 
 And everything rhymes in June. 
 
 16 
 
Days of War 
 
 tmi SOLDIER and a Rebel, 
 ^^ Had been wounded one sad day; 
 The Rebels were outnumbered, 
 And the Yankees held full sway. 
 
 A Yankee surgeon saw him, 
 And with scarcely army grace, 
 
 Said, "He's well enough to go 
 On the morrow to Camp Chase." 
 
 ''To Camp Chase?" asked a maiden, 
 With her dark eyes all aglow; 
 
 **We have nursed him back from death, 
 And we say he shall not go." 
 
 Then Miss Edmonia Shell, 
 
 With a figure fine and tall. 
 Said, ''The Yankees are all villains. 
 
 But you're the worst of all." 
 
 <( 
 
 Miss Ed.," the surgeon answered. 
 And watched her handsome face, 
 
 I've saved your horse and chickens. 
 Everything that's on your place. 
 
 17 
 
''You are so superbly fine. 
 
 On that cream-colored Joe 
 That I sent a guard to save him, 
 
 For the handsomest girl I know." 
 
 "Just shut up," she said in anger; 
 
 "You can have the horse and things, 
 But let a sick man have a chance, 
 
 Tho' it pull your conscience-strings." 
 
 "We will take him on the morrow," 
 Said the surgeon with a bow. 
 
 The girls were glad he left. 
 
 They could scheme together now. 
 
 "Kate, we must both get horses," 
 Said Miss Ed., with eager haste; 
 
 "We will take him to the Rebels, 
 And we've got no time to waste. 
 
 "I'll go to the mills for Linsey, 
 And I'll send Briscoe a letter; 
 
 He will meet us in the Cedars, 
 I can think of nothing better. " 
 
 18 
 
It was just three hours later, 
 
 When they met out near the fence, 
 
 **I can not get a horse," said Kate, 
 And they stood in dire suspense. 
 
 "We can not run away, Kate, 
 On a horse as hght as Joe, 
 
 Her tracks will be as plain as day 
 In this fresh, fast-falling snow. 
 
 "I will take it to the Lord; 
 
 He will show us what to do; 
 He has never failed an orphan. 
 
 And his promises are true." 
 
 It w^as eight o'clock that night. 
 And the stars were shining coldly, 
 
 When three figures started out 
 Across the snow, quite boldly. 
 
 Kate rode behind the saddle. 
 And held the soldier steady; 
 
 Miss Shell led the horse. 
 And everything was ready. 
 
 19 
 
Turkey Run was reached at last, 
 After two miles' eager walking, 
 
 Kate leaped into the water, 
 
 At which poor Joe seemed balking. 
 
 Miss Ed. got up behind the man. 
 And held him in warm embrace; 
 
 He was too ill to care for charms, 
 His soul was in the race. 
 
 With quivering lips and shivering limbs, 
 Kate led Joe through freezing water. 
 
 Feeling she had a soldier's part, 
 Glad she was a soldier's daughter. 
 
 She stumbled over slippery rocks, 
 
 But led Joe firmly forward. 
 Her ankles ached, the tears would come. 
 
 While the water laughed, *' You coward. 
 
 The tall, bare trees on either side 
 Groaned forth a wild despair; 
 
 The wind took up a chilling knell 
 And rang it on the air. 
 
 20 
 
"It's two miles more," the tall girl said. 
 As she slipped into the stream, 
 
 "Get on the horse, I'll wrap you up. 
 This freezing is no dream. 
 
 "I'll lead him up the Run," she said, 
 "'Til the trodden road we find. 
 
 We'll go up that as long as safe. 
 When we leave the stream behind." 
 
 The waters roared thro' a rocky cave, 
 And drowned the voices of night; 
 
 Joe raised his head, begun a neigh, 
 But she held his nose too tight; 
 
 Pulled him behind a great black rock. 
 And covered his head with her shawl. 
 
 Then prayed as she had never prayed, 
 For protection for them all. 
 
 A party had been out very late. 
 Looting the neighboring farms, 
 
 The soldier's track in those old days 
 Carried cries of wild alarms. 
 
 21 
 
Each pig and cow ran for its life, 
 Each rooster knew its ghastly fate, 
 
 Rushed wildly for the brush, 
 Calling in terror to its mate. 
 
 The Yankees watered their stock. 
 Swore at them loud and strong; 
 
 Unconscious of the runaways. 
 They went traveling right along. 
 
 The echoes had ceased to catch their 
 noise. 
 
 When the sick man suddenly said: 
 "Go back and save your precious lives. 
 
 What matter if I am dead?" 
 
 Just then the shrill hoot of an owl 
 Gave each a shuddering start; 
 
 The tall girl gave the owl's hoot. 
 That must have gladdened its heart. 
 
 From underneath a low-grown pine. 
 Two men crawled, then stood erect; 
 
 The man in the saddle gave a sigh, 
 But the girls knew what to expect. 
 
 22 
 
"We have come to take Paine out," 
 Said a soldier in tattered shoes; 
 
 "When women do things Hke this. 
 We men have nothing to lose. 
 
 *'You make lives cheap, that we sell dear, 
 Here's Kate with her womanly ways. 
 
 Please say tonight in this horrible cold, 
 You'll be mine in the warmer days." 
 
 "Briscoe, stop flirting," his sister said. 
 Advancing to the saddle-bags, 
 
 "All take a drink of this applejack, 
 Before your spirit lags. 
 
 "Come, Larsh Pangle, and take a drink. 
 Then help our patient to carry; 
 
 Hurry our troopers back to town. 
 For then I'm going to marry 
 
 *'The South Carolina doctor — 
 A very wide swath he swings — 
 
 He says he drives a coach and four. 
 And uses golden napkin-rings." 
 
 23 
 
Her brother laughed in derision, 
 
 And said, "It must be fun 
 To get far away from home. 
 
 And 'shoot with a long-ranged gun.' " 
 
 The soldiers took their comrade 
 And bore him forward with care, 
 
 The girls were ill from the work, 
 They'd helped each other to share. 
 
 Again in the sad, old valley. 
 
 They 'd all meet when war should cease ; 
 With the blazoned shield, "Well done," 
 
 From the consoling angel Peace. 
 
 24 
 
A Day of Illusions 
 
 ^tffclMV heart was as cold as the 
 '^^^ marble 
 
 That sentinels the dead; 
 My life was a book whose pages 
 
 Held each richer thought unread. 
 
 There was duty and self-denial, 
 
 And hours of quiet trust; 
 But never a glimpse of earth's heaven- 
 
 The divine in human dust. 
 
 But there came a touch to the marble. 
 That gave it the glow of the sky, 
 
 And a word was left on the life-book. 
 Whose meaning can never die. 
 
 Then a rare, rich jflood-tide of glory 
 Fell over the golden hours, 
 
 The sunbeams were laden with joy, 
 While wooing the hearts of the 
 flowers. 
 
 25 
 
And earth seemed a vast elysium, 
 With no need of a better sphere; 
 
 With all of the bliss of heaven 
 In the rapture of loving here. 
 
Not Catholic 
 
 X DREAD no day that brings me 
 life; 
 I dread no hour that comes to me; 
 I am beyond the pain and strife 
 That rankle in the sects I see. 
 
 I care not for all space and time, 
 If I am always wholly Thine. 
 
 I now renounce the word or rhyme 
 That keeps me from the life Divine. 
 
 27 
 
A Day Too Late 
 
 9f9t^ HY not have come long years ago ? 
 ^Pw^ When Hfe was in its early glow, 
 And there were no shadows in tired eyes, 
 And the future held more than sad "good- 
 bys?" 
 
 To have lived together one glowing hour. 
 In youth's subtle, thrilling power. 
 Why wait 'til the gold has turned to gray. 
 And life has mellowed in a cold, sad way ? 
 
 28 
 
The New Day 
 
 Tune of Silent Nighr 
 
 #UT of the night, over the height. 
 Comes the "day of pure dehght," 
 The dawn of perfection in truth and right : 
 Then turn your face to the radiant Hght, 
 For truth illumines a starless night, 
 Bold in its efforts to always unite 
 Peace and love, then hold them in sight. 
 Reach for the best, the future is bright, 
 Heaven is here, not an angel's flight, 
 Within your heart, by the spirit's might. 
 
One of the Dreams 
 
 rHE Springtime passed and left me, 
 With the furrowed Hnes of care, 
 And once I dreaded their coming, 
 With the silvered, golden hair. 
 
 And once I prayed to die. 
 
 E'er the Summer's burst of bloom. 
 And dreaded the chill of Autumn, 
 
 And Winter's lonely gloom. 
 
 But now I am praying daily. 
 For the body to be renewed. 
 
 An everlasting temple 
 
 With human error subdued — 
 
 Never to know the change, 
 But to draw each vital breath. 
 
 That helps the spirit to conquer. 
 That old last "enemy," Death. 
 
 30 
 
Understanding 
 
 aOVE is an abstract noun ? 
 How can you class it so ? 
 There is an abstract noun, 
 Love's old enemy, woe. 
 
 Love makes the light that shines, 
 And gives the stars their glow. 
 
 There is no night for love, 
 Darkness comes with woe. 
 
 Love grows intense with pain, 
 Tho' poverty brings a knell; 
 
 Love is always heaven, 
 
 'T is hate that makes earth's hell. 
 
 31 
 
No Loss 
 
 rHE hours held rapture ecstatic, 
 The love that we call divine. 
 A feeling at once all erratic 
 And quiet, and deep, and fine. 
 
 No thought, but was conscious of you, 
 No line, but what you had read. 
 
 The whisper that through the leaves flew, 
 Was the love- word you ever had said. 
 
 All life was teeming with love. 
 
 Because you'd named me your mate; 
 
 All things on earth or above 
 
 Were smiling in glee at my fate. 
 
 But you saw a face that was fairer, 
 A curve that had dominant youth. 
 
 And you feel a thrill you think rarer. 
 And call it expression of truth. 
 
 I joy in the way you rebound, 
 I know not a pang that is loss. 
 
 The coin that my rapture found, 
 A crucible proved to be dross. 
 
 32 
 
The Last Day 
 
 COSMOS 
 
 rHERE is nothing here to regret, 
 No page best left unread, 
 No thought one must forget, 
 No word best left unsaid. 
 
 There's no recorded mistake; 
 
 Each act in earnest doing 
 Has kept the soul awake, 
 
 Perfection still pursuing. 
 
 There's no pain for atonement's sake, 
 
 Love only takes us along; 
 What seem to be errors we make, 
 
 Will end in a triumph of song. 
 
 33 
 
Friendship 
 
 XKNOW her so well, you know, 
 ^riiat I can say these things — 
 Don't mention I told you she 
 Invested her money in rings. 
 
 Say nothing about tlie boy — 
 Of course, you knew he drank; 
 
 She never mentions it, 
 
 But she is not always frank. 
 
 I've found out things when there, 
 That she would never have told. 
 
 Seen little things and heard remarks, 
 Before her house was sold. 
 
 They owed so much in town, 
 Helping his business to grow. 
 
 That 1 was not surprised. 
 
 When the property had to go. 
 
 She .^ No, she never gossips — 
 But she leaves religion out; 
 
 I am lier nearest friend, 
 
 I know what I'm talking about. 
 
 34 
 
The Gospel of Life 
 
 rHE gospel of life is love. 
 Not for sweethearts only — 
 But for every human soul, 
 Especially the sad and lonely. 
 
 Is there an enemy near you, 
 
 That has ever wronged you sadly ? 
 
 Send them a thought of love, 
 A thought of forgiveness gladly. 
 
 Did they slander you to friends. 
 And people have tried to annov ? 
 
 It is all so small, forgive them. 
 And fill your soul with joy. 
 
 No matter if death seems better. 
 
 And hope has fled like the dove, 
 *'Fear not, O Greatly Beloved." 
 
 God restores tenfold with love. 
 
 35 
 
Reckoning 
 
 XTOOK a wreck to my Eden— 
 The act none would approve. 
 I shielded her from scandal, 
 And tried to win her with love. 
 
 But she saw that I had an idol, 
 
 I kept in a holy place; 
 She took from me that image, 
 
 Hoping for me disgrace. 
 
 But I was too proud to w^ail, 
 I could talk and sing and pray; 
 
 I did not want an idol 
 If made of filthy clay. 
 
 Then she came again to my Eden, 
 With a voice of musical rhyme; 
 
 But she still had the fangs of a serpent. 
 And tried to leave its slime. 
 
 An angel returned the image — 
 It had proven too much care. 
 
 It is now in the "Holy of Holies," 
 Covered with jewels rare. 
 
 36 
 
Moonlight 
 
 ^^MT HERE did you come from, beautiful 
 ^t^tJ^ moon, 
 
 When you crept o'er the brow of the hill? 
 Did some one see you just as soon 
 
 In the land that is cold and still ? 
 
 Your yellow face shines with mirth. 
 
 You seem replete with joy — 
 Are your illusions brought to earth 
 
 Intended to destroy ? 
 
 Insane, they say, people grow 
 That sleep in your mystic light; 
 
 That is a fallacy, we know. 
 
 There's peace in illumined night. 
 
 Shine tonight on a shriven soul. 
 From your lofty throne of stars; 
 
 See love across the echoes roll — 
 It is purest after scars. 
 
 37 
 
Julep 
 
 Ijir SILVER loving-cup, 
 ^5^ Filled to the brim; 
 A drink to wake you up 
 And give to life a vim. 
 
 The vivid green of mint, 
 The sparkle of crushed ice, 
 
 Liquid an amber tint, 
 
 With orange — half a slice. 
 
 A frost soon covers the cup. 
 Its beauty gladdens art; 
 
 With every delicious sup 
 
 A warm glow enters the heart. 
 
 A glow one can not smother, 
 A feeling never priced: 
 
 Makes a man lie to his mother- 
 Even deny his Christ. 
 
 38 
 
Music and Art 
 
 ^BflMfHERE, on hills, in glades, 
 ^l^n^ j)q music and color merge ? 
 Does harmony have all shades 
 When art and tone converge? 
 
 In the sunset over the ocean 
 
 Are soft tones of melody. 
 An anthem of pure devotion 
 
 Is heard from the dark, blue sea. 
 
 Poetry comes in rhythm, 
 
 And finds the soul of art; 
 Lights and shades are heaven. 
 
 Music sings in her heart. 
 
 Where does art touch music ? 
 
 Where do they never part ? 
 In Mendelssohn's silvery songs. 
 
 Or Liszt's great throbs of the heart ? 
 
 Beethoven with brilliant flights 
 
 Flings ecstacy on the air. 
 Chopin from lofty heights 
 
 Holds all the world in prayer. 
 
 39 
 
Through the shadows steaHng, 
 With mystical fairy tread, 
 
 Bach with deHcate feeUng 
 Finds music and art are wed. 
 
 40 
 
A Watch 
 
 ^I^T OUR face is as fair as a woman's, 
 Jt^ Your hands are more delicate still, 
 Your fingers point to omens, 
 You make for good or ill. 
 
 Within, rare gems are hidden. 
 They help to steady your pace; 
 
 Yet hours all unbidden 
 
 Have lined your lovely face. 
 
 Oh, keeper of precious time. 
 Your jewels will ever unfold: 
 
 Rapture sung in rhyme — 
 Dreams that are never told. 
 
 Let triumph come with the hour, 
 
 Purpose scorn defeat. 
 Call to the moments that shower, 
 
 "Stay! Ye are so sweet." 
 
 41 
 
Yesterday and Tomorrow 
 
 Jlflttf HEN Eve smiled to Adam's 
 ^^^^^ undoing, 
 
 You were older than they and were mine. 
 We saw Sappho, in passion pursuing, 
 
 And Phaon too weak to decline. 
 
 We had drifted from one of the stars, 
 
 Where music was breathed like the air- 
 Where harmony fell in soft bars, 
 And melody stifled all care. 
 
 We had lived like the gods of lost ages, 
 And reveled in unquestioned bliss; 
 
 There was never a line for dark pages 
 And never a sting in a kiss. 
 
 But a siren sang you a love-lay. 
 And you flew to her urgent desire; 
 
 She entangled your soul in the clay. 
 
 And your body rolled deep in the mire. 
 
 And I wandered far out alone. 
 Always true to you, in despair — 
 
 In my heaven no radiance shone, 
 No bliss unless you were there. 
 
 42 
 
Eons have passed, and old Eve 
 Put a blight of sin on mankind; 
 
 There are too many Sapphos to grieve 
 And too many lost hearts to find. 
 
 We have both known the heart of distress 
 Illusions the human can mar. 
 
 Love has come to be its redress, 
 
 We leave earth — and soar to the star. 
 
 43 
 
Los Angeles 
 
 ^fl^MT H Y should we think of time, 
 w^^t^^ Or count the flying hours ? 
 The moments sing in rhyme 
 In a land aglow with flowers. 
 
 The days have a balmy breath, 
 A glory that sunshine showers; 
 
 They slip away by stealth, 
 
 In the land that is loved by flowers. 
 
 Not a clock-tower here. 
 
 In this city alive with towers 
 
 No dials cold and clear. 
 
 We count the time by flowers. 
 
 The city is rush and vim. 
 
 In its busy happy hours 
 All nations are "in the swim;" 
 
 Life glides among the flowers. 
 
 44 
 
Flattery 
 
 A^EELZEBUB '*is the prince of liars." 
 ^^ He has the mightiest clan; 
 His is the drill that never tires. 
 They follow him to a man. 
 
 One has a mine — a glorious find — 
 
 'T will bring all that wealth could wish ; 
 
 Most of the prospect is in his mind, 
 Like an angler's string of fish. 
 
 One has known women in his day, 
 Seen every phase of their evil — 
 
 That is the man with the subtle way 
 That makes him more than devil. 
 
 There is a man with a winning smile, 
 And praises sweet as honey — 
 
 Beelzebub just once in a while 
 
 Gives him all the cake and the money. 
 
 45 
 
The Candy-Kettle 
 
 ^S^ ERE is the candy-kettle— 
 '^^W But where are my little boys ? 
 I call, but the hollow metal 
 Echoes sadly, lost joys. 
 
 One of them went to the East — 
 
 The nearest of all — 
 The West had five at a feast, 
 
 In a great college hall. 
 
 I hear the old kettle croon, 
 
 A wail for lost art — 
 Gone little boys too soon. 
 
 But you live in my heart. 
 
 46 
 
An Idol 
 
 '^CT'OU are the pearl without price 
 ^C In the jewel-case of my heart. 
 The possession will ever suffice 
 To set me aside and apart 
 
 From the sins of the world. 
 
 The soul of you, jewel so rare. 
 Is mine, tho' the years intervene. 
 I will lift it to God in a passion of prayer, 
 Tho' the censers swing ages between. 
 And hope's wings are furled. 
 
 47 
 
A Naked Soul 
 
 XF I strip my soul of her robes tonight, 
 What will she have to atone ? 
 She will have to hide away from the light, 
 Or tread the wine-press alone. 
 
 If I take her robe of honor first, 
 
 There follows the blush from her face. 
 
 Her truth is a jewel in rare sunburst, 
 And her virtue has a girdle's place. 
 
 Joy has woven every fine thread 
 In the white robe's shining folds. 
 
 Love adds the luster over it shed, 
 And the beauty in all it holds. 
 
 Not one thing can I take away 
 
 That would mar the perfect whole. 
 
 Faith protects her night and day; 
 It is the aura of my soul. 
 
 48 
 
Love Levels 
 
 Ms there a degree in caste 
 In the dear world's light and shade ? 
 Would your love as surely last 
 If I lived on a lower grade ? 
 
 If from your lofty height 
 
 You had to stoop to me 
 And found in dusky night 
 
 Fate wrote my destiny, — 
 
 Would you raise me to the throne 
 Where life had crowned you king ? 
 
 With a passion never known 
 
 You've caused my heart to sing. 
 
 I sit where the sunlight gleams 
 And worship my heart's desire. 
 
 I knew, even in my dreams, 
 
 You were made of "spirit and fire." 
 
 49 
 
Flotsam 
 
 JUaOW are things with my soul tonight ? 
 jPmip It has stopped to preen on a flat 
 
 sand-bar. 
 The waves lap up in quiet delight, 
 
 And the soul is saying, "I've found a star." 
 
 Hours slipped by on the sunny sand. 
 There came a boat of life to rest. 
 
 One could not say the boat was manned. 
 For folly had made of its guide a jest. 
 
 A tempest swept down on the flat sand-bar. 
 Left the soul clad in "flying tatters." 
 
 The jest in the boat had many a scar. 
 And went out with the tide, where nothing 
 matters. 
 
 50 
 
Fallacy 
 
 rHE day has a thousand sighs 
 And hot sunbeams; 
 The night has glowing eyes 
 And beautiful dreams. 
 
 Rest! It is rest to live 
 
 When night holds sway, 
 The infinite peace to give 
 
 Unknown to the day. 
 
 Are there deep lines in truth 
 That have softened your smile ? 
 
 Turn back to the feasts of youth 
 And dream awhile. 
 
 Dream you have dropped the years 
 
 In the sea of time, 
 And the moonlight clears 
 
 On heights sublime. 
 
 One hour of deep emotion 
 
 When life meets life, 
 A rapture of pure devotion. 
 
 Forgetting strife. 
 
 51 
 
Because 
 
 JJUMf H Y are there hours of despair ? 
 ^^^' Why are there sighs of regret ? 
 Why are there days of dull care ? 
 Why does the sun ever set? 
 
 Despair shows the triumph of joy. 
 
 Regret proves the day of dehght. 
 No care would all effort destroy. 
 
 We rest in the beauty of night. 
 
 52 
 
The Best Place 
 
 A Song 
 
 ^JI^NE girl married a drummer 
 ^C^ And they never got acquainted. 
 Another wed a miner. 
 
 And they were soon mismated. 
 
 The birds are ever singing 
 
 To their mates within the nest 
 Tho' ahen calls be ringing 
 Night finds them home at rest. 
 
 CHORUS 
 
 If you want to get along 
 And never have to roam; 
 
 Just make of life a song, 
 And sing it in a home. 
 
 53 
 
Old Ways 
 
 A Song 
 
 #H, where are the girls 
 With the beautiful curls 
 That crowned each lovely head ? 
 Ringlets have passed 
 In this life too fast; 
 We're wearing rats instead. 
 
 Oh, come back awhile, 
 
 And see the style, 
 In these days of equal rights. 
 
 There's no romance, 
 
 Your swift, sweet glance. 
 Could take no upward flights. 
 
 CHORUS 
 
 Oh, come back, girls. 
 
 With the flowing curls, 
 And elegance of old days; 
 
 Cigarettes go hang! 
 
 We'll drop all slang. 
 Ours are the fine old ways. 
 
 54 
 
Too Much 
 
 A Song 
 
 '^CT^OU would carry me out on the heights 
 JR^ in your arms, 
 
 And worship only me; 
 You would feast your ravenous eyes on my 
 charms, 
 In a thrill of ecstacy. 
 
 You would kiss my eyes and lips and hands, 
 And hold me close to your heart. 
 
 Your arms would be love's iron bands 
 That nothing human could part. 
 
 CHORUS 
 
 Only one thing in the wide, wide world 
 
 Could sever you and me — 
 The same old weapon at idols hurled 
 
 And called satiety. 
 
 55 
 
A New Heaven 
 
 By Permission of ** The Nautilus" 
 
 ^jr LLURING shadows in deep hollows, 
 •^^' With the sunshine over the hills. 
 A song-bird calls and a love-bird follows 
 To the trees alive with trills. 
 
 The peace of God is softly wafted 
 From crest to crest of the heights. 
 
 And "God is love" is a motto grafted 
 By the stars on the still, cool nights. 
 
 Adown the valleys the trees are vivid. 
 With all shades that green can take. 
 
 And human life which is sometimes livid, 
 Grows sweeter, for life's sweet sake. 
 
 The sea takes a deeper, darker blue 
 Its swells are as soft as the air; 
 
 The music far off is a rhythm too. 
 Making human life a prayer. 
 
 56 
 
Unending 
 
 XF I give my soul full scope tonight, 
 Where will it take its wonderful flight 
 
 From the earth ? 
 Will it pause with some soul, 
 Escaped life's control 
 
 And its dearth ? 
 Or will it go to some star 
 Gazed on from afar 
 
 Since its birth ? 
 Oh soul, wend your way 
 E'er the breaking of day, 
 
 While stars are outshining. 
 Exchange strife for peace. 
 Where all heartache will cease 
 
 And there'll be no repining. 
 
 57 
 
The Bird's Recital 
 
 George Sand and Chopin 
 
 0!ftf WOMAN sat in the shadows, 
 S?^ With hair as white as snow; 
 But her heart was as young as the robin's. 
 With all his breast aglow. 
 
 A love-bird sang aloud — 
 "O woman of mystery, 
 Your heart is untouched by the crowd; 
 Tho' they saddened your history. 
 
 "The commonplace herd don't know. 
 That days with beauty are fraught; 
 
 But there comes a youth through the glow 
 That mates with your every thought. 
 
 "He comes from a golden star, 
 
 Where harp-strings cover the trees. 
 
 And every musical chord, 
 
 Is known to the passing breeze — 
 
 "And every odorous flower 
 Is reflected in limpid streams. 
 
 For the soul that lingers there 
 Has only beautiful dreams. 
 
 58 
 
"This youth will always find you, 
 No matter where you are; 
 
 He heard you sighing for him, 
 So he left the golden star. 
 
 "Arise, and go to greet him: 
 Unfold to him life's page; 
 
 Hold him in love's embrace, 
 For spirit has no age — 
 
 "Teach him that life is love, 
 
 (He will find its cares and duty) ; 
 
 Show him the highest ideals. 
 The purest thoughts of beauty. 
 
 "You ask me to tell you the end: 
 Your soul will soon fly afar. 
 
 And his will follow and find you 
 At home on the golden star." 
 
So here endeth A BOOK OF DAYS, 
 as written by F. Sydnor CartmelL and 
 done into a Book by The Roycrofters, at 
 their Shop, which is in East Aurora, Erie 
 County, New York, in the year mcmix. 
 
015 906 192 9