Class fB aSO S" Book. ' , (0 '5 H 3 Copyright If. iao!*|- COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. THE HAREM AND OTHER POEMS ALOYSIUS COLL HBoston RICHARD G. BADGER t\t ©orliam ;p«s# 1904 LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies lieceivea DEC 22 1^04 Oooyrigin entry CLASS €L XXc. No COPY B. Copyright 1904 by Aloysius Coll All rights reserved Printed at The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. CONTENTS The Harem .... 9 Sipsu ..... 18 The Sluggard .... 25 The Burial of Orange Tsu 27 The Maid of Sparta 30 Good Night .... 3i The Burial of a Japanese Soldier 32 The Magic of a Mansion 33 The Duel 34 The Purple Voices 35 A Woodland Awakening 37 Song of the Middy's Mother 38 The Ships of Chance 39 The Skeptic . 40 The Man of the Hour 41 Circumstance . 4i When the Dance is Done 41 Learnin' t' Play 42 The Echo .... 45 To a Dying Bee 45 Dream of the Dancing Bear . 46 An October Paradox . 47 Life's Gifts .... 48 The New Baby .... 49 The Tryst ..... 5o Inspiration .... 5i The Opulence of Content 5i The Alchemist .... 52 The Song of the Under World 52 The Religion of the Wood . 54 Art 55 The Spider and the Fly 56 The Builders . 56 Winter Blossoms . . 57 A Fancy ...... 58 What's Wrong with Sammy Brown 59 Love's Heraldry . Cupid's Industry . The Abiding Love The Two Caskets The Real Banshee The Prey of the Greyhound East or West Perseverance Keeping the Log The Birthday of the Grass Illusions Her Parlor Lamp The Circle of Song The Magician At the Ford The Physician A Maiden's Questions The Coal Miner Destiny ... The Sea A Maid and a Man Cupid the Traveller June .... The Little Tramp Song of the Swallow . The Brother The Embers Dawn A Twilight Tryst The Firefly The Birth of the Daisies and the Stars The Poet's Corner in Westminster Abbey A Quatrain of Good Luck The Pines . Song of the Blossom My Club . A Motherhood Universal Direction A Song of Summer • 89 The First Snow .... 90 Hate 91 The Pearl Fishers 91 Day of the Auction Sale 92 The Revival .... 93 The Pirate ..... 93 If Nature Knew .... 94 Opportunity .... 95 Brotherhood .... 95 The Hidden Light 96 The Guardian Angel 97 The Make-Believes of Old Age 98 The Valley of the Ohio 99 My Neighbors .... 100 The Rain ..... IOI Aucassin and Nicolette IOI The Raindrops on the Wire . 103 To Evangeline .... 104 Two Hours by the Luni River 105 Re-Entered .... 106 The Magic of a Word 108 The Night Spirit 108 The Wander-Boat 109 The Guide Invisible no Sunset on the Farm 112 A QUATERNION OF THE SERAGLIO I THE CHIEF BLACK EUNUCH Master, I kiss thy feet! Thy will is done, And fuller than thy wish. The circling realms Are stripped of beauty, wit and youth for thy Seraglio. Were the Holy Prophet come Bride-seeking in this land of women fair, And, finding none in wayside, market-place And harem, did he ask: "Pray, tell me where Assyria's beauties be," all men would say: "Go beg from Ubsek out of Ishpahan !" Within the triple walls of thy domain The jetty hair of Egypt waits the stroke Of thy indulgent hand. The full, red lips Of Persia purse in liquid mockery Of nightingales, sweet singing in the court. A maiden from Morocco, strong and lithe, Dances beneath a whirling scimiter The while a shower of sunlight on the blade Hallows her with a crown of golden flashes. One, with her zither free upon her lap, The twilight gives a voice melodious. Another, Bacchus-tutored, shall delight Thine eyes and palate in a mazy dance, With grace the brimful goblets offering Out of the swell and ebb of billowy silks. But these are puppets in the arts of love Matched with the witching twain that wait this night Thy godly face — their Mecca of Desire. Either has woman's fairy power to mold Thy every wish a sweet reality. One is a maid Circassian, so young And timorous that when the auctioneer, To show her beauty in the market-place, Unzoned the moving marble of her breast, She swooned for modesty ; whereat the cries Of bidding eunuchs trebled and waxed wild In golden competition. Hamid Bey, Chief Eunuch for a Prince of Dehbala, His shrill bids shouted over mine, until I faltered 'tween the dizzy price that grew And the despairing loss of such a prize — I bid her in ; I folded her away From envious eyes; nor, Master, shall I fear The koorbash when thou measurest the loss Of all the gold I squandered with the gain Of all the joys it purchased. — She is called Roxana. She can sing and dance and play; The nightingale is not more sweet of song, And not so light of foot the butterfly. If all the dreams of women fair were mixed In earth's divinest countenance, some aid From star and sun the picture would require Ere it eclipse Roxana's loveliness ; But chiefest of her charms her willowy wit, And wisdom trite. The Talmud is^ engraved Deep on her mind's entablature. The songs Of Sappho are as little links of gold Binding her learning to her grace. She knows The symbols of the mystical Kaballah. She gives the Koran daily audience, And chanting birds, and music of the brook. Into her heart's affections shall she draw Thy heart till thou art but her tenantry — A wish dissolving in the wine of love! Or, wouldst thou smother thought in revelry? — Wouldst thou surrender Sultanship of soul For passion's flying dervishry — Then let That woman be thy minister who makes Thy glance her soul, thy wish her only creed — Zachi, thy wife, the full of breast and red Of lip — the shepherdess of gamboling joys On sunny quests outstraying — she that sleeps 10 The moments of thy absences away That separation from thy side beseem The shorter — she that rent thy house with moans And slew a harmless slave the night I slipped Thy new-bought bride from Persia to thy arms ! Zachi, who blushing hears with parted lips And dreamy eyes, thy message: "Come, I wait!" With golden languor so enrapt that once, When I beheld thee in a dawn which broke Alike the clasp of night, of her and thee, I saw the smile of midnight lingering Upon thy face, and, like a sun, upon The plash of thy ablutions in the morning! Which bride shall bear thy wooing, Master, — which When incense smokes the damask of thy cham- ber ; When window lattice trembles with the breath Of jasmin and the soft-sung dreams of birds; When ruby lamp burns low, and higher burns The hidden torches of desire? Which, Roxana, stout defender of her heart; Or Zachi shall the night give up to thee To win thee by persuasion and the soft Witcheries of a woman's full-blown love? II UBSEK Thou sayest Roxana is in learning first Of all my brides, and young and beautiful ; That she will fend her graces with her wit. 'Tis well ; the key of knowledge shall I try Her heart to open. Once within the high Thick outer walls of her serene resolve, I'll breach the frailer gateways of her heart, And sue before the inner courts of love. ii I'll move her lips to secrets of the stars, Then kiss them into central suns of fire. I'll point her eyes to visions erudite, Then close them in the dreamy lapse of love. I'll whet her mind with wordy tournaments, And every word shall be a sword to pierce Her heart with mystic wounds, as deep as death, As sweet as honey-bleeding clover-throats The bee has lanced. — So shall I strive with her, My shaft the study of the stars, my shield The language of the mountain wind and storm And eloquence of mating nightingale. But when her eyes have turned from wandering Among the random stars, and fixed their light On mine ; when song of Talmud and Kaballah Have melted on her tongue into one word Of protest so serenely soft and low I'll take it for submission ; when her mind Has closed the shutters down on truth, and gropes And falters through the darkened cells of dreams And love's hallucinations, — then I'll turn Back from the delicate brink of my desire, Bid her a chaste good-night — and let her go! Into the love-warm goblet of my heart Let Zachi come, then, — Zachi, full of breast And red of lip; and let her pour the wine Of full-blown roses where the bud has formed. Hence! master-slave, and see thou bringst the both— Roxana when the crescent cuts the trees Of yonder hill, and Zachi when the night Is luminant with the full, free-risen moon. And harken ! Have a care thou tend them so That fair Roxana, leaving, have no thought She goes on Zachi's coming, who, when come, Shall never know my arms that wait her ache With the embraces of her sister-bride! 12 Ill ROXANA Accursed the fickle sweets of night! Accursed The double faces of the moon ! Accursed This remnant of her glory! With my tears I dew. the dying comet-tail of night, Receding and down dashing into dawn. Oh eyes, what floods of tears for my first storm ! What tempests for a maiden-love! What winds, By tropic summers tempered, sweep me now Into the lonely winter of my exile! Lonely! — this night I saw him first; this night My trembling hand unclasped the virgin veil, And turned my loveliness to him — my lord ! Silent he sat. No word of flattery He ventured. Of my golden hair he made No wonder. Phrases of endearment men Have bandied down the ages had he lack, Even to silences unbroken. Love Was in his face; I blushed to see it there, Reflecting it, rose-tinted in my own. But when he spoke, the poets of the past Sang in his words, till, mounting line by line, From woodland lyrics unto the ascent Of clarion battle calls and thunderbursts Of odes immortal, epics as sublime As impulse of devotion, love and war, At last he reached the pinnacle of song — The sweet, spontaneous poem of his heart ! He bade me sing an ancient versicle, And when he sang it after me, the strain With his own feeling throbbed. An open book He offered me, and when I read for him The passage purple-scored — the mysteries Of worlds contracted into diamond points ; Of stars downtrodden into solar fire; Wee throats of birds uplifted into song ; 13 Glimpse of the morning ; even's fading out ; Mountain hearts melted into gold; design Of daisy ; pattern of the scalloped fern ; Birth of the blossom from a memory Of autumn; art and sculpture of the hills, Green-veiled and valley-carven ; — when I read This passage purple-scored unto my lord, He set his knowledge 'gainst the holy book, And burying the truth of ages deep In his romantic superstition, held That all the planets and revolving spheres Are skied in heaven's blue, that blooms are set In fields of grass and bubbles on the river That love, the only worthy loveliness, Might have material comparison — Some splendor wooing words might liken to Love's fire invisible; some perfumed dew' Love's lips unto her kisses might compare! Out-womaned by my lord, at last — at last I solved his creed : The world and all her sweet Indulgences to him were but a cloak About my heart ; the chaos of the stars, The harvest of forget-me-nots — he set Them glimmering at my feet to blow and burn Like candles at the altar of his love ! While yet I held my finger on the page — The passage purple-scored, — he left his couch. And like a cloud, above me hovered. Fell His shadow on my blushes. Sharp and bright Out of his shadow flashed his royal wit, Like lightning through the blackness of the storm ; And in each fitful flame I seemed to see The heavens open. Flash on flash did Joy, The sunny limner, tinge with golden light The gathering cloudburst of my youth. Then blew My master's breath upon me, like a wind 14 Warming the sand before a hot monsoon. Then, on my desert lips there fell a rain — The fragrant tempest of his lips ! In vain The flowering bough-roof of my girlhood strove To hide my fire with protests maidenly. Blind with a new-born intimacy, blind With love, I saw 1 — 'twas passion's second sight — Or seemed to see the guards of girlhood fade Far back across the desert ; back, on back And out of calling! Crowned with orange blooms, I seemed to walk a rosy way — up — up Into joy-ridden realms. Birds set the trees Aquivering with song. A golden gate Sprang open at my coming. Sentinels Of Peace and Joy and Beauty and Content Conducted me into a castle court, Whence came my bridegroom forth. And when he smiled, His radiance was like a rainbow arch Set over him. "My queen," he said ; "my love, Enter my house, my heart, and rest thee here Eternally!" "Ah, not a queen," I cried, "A woman in the household of thy love — A bride-wife in the bondage of her vows !" And then — the woman of my lovely dream, The substance, too, of yearning flesh and blood, Faint with the first pure vintage of desire, I cast myself into my master's arms! And then — Oh, trusting heart of easy wax, That, warming, took his shape indelibly, — Now that my lord had wooed me from the height Of modesty into the lap of love, He kissed me on the burning lips no more, But lightly on the forehead and the hair ; And with the grace of power o'er himself, *s Resigned me to the eunuch at his door, And taking Darkness for his sweeter bride, Slept in her rival arms until the dawn ! IV ZACHI Hush! Nightingale — my lord is sleeping now, Dreaming the weariness of love away — But jealousy has wormed into mine eyes, And fixes them in open wakefulness. Jealousy, aye, the nettlewort of love, So twined about my heart that every throb Is vexed and poisoned by the angry stings ! Here, in the stillness of my master's room, — The midnight audience of the nightingale, — Before me pass the ghosts of the delights And disappointments of this bridal tryst! This night the eunuch said : "Prepare for him !" Decked by the moon-rise, long I waited — long Even for me, who weep at dalliance. The scarlet on my lips was rubbed away By fret and vexing, and my braided hair, Sweet with its costly essences, hung loose For ravings on my couch, whereon, at last, I threw my burning temples in despair, To sleep — the mateless bride of solitude! I dreamed a touch was on me! I awoke! The eunuch — rigid messenger of the night, — Stood over me, with words of greatest joy: "Thy master waits thee — come !" I went to him, All rosy with the first sweet sleep of night. Dimly his lamp was burning, as a wick Grown pauper in a foolish waste of oil. I slipped into his arms, and wept, — aye, wept 16 For gladness. Soothing me, he stroked; my hair — Ah, touch of treason! Hot his hand, as hot As lover's hand might be, when, in the last Embraces of a tryst he wrings the pain Of parting in his touch; and when I wept The more for knowledge of this thing, he set His lips upon my tears — whereat the more I knew from his warm breath and hurried heart The treason of his love. As well I knew The golden halo of Roxana's hair Had mingled with the moonbeams on his breast ! I saw the rugs whereon her feet had danced ; A book upon the shelf, and of its leaves A page was turned and marked to set her wits Aright with the authorities of ages; I saw a lute that she had played upon; I saw the love-light in my master's eye, Shining to hold Roxana in his sight, Though she were gone — and understanding all With woman's eyes when woman's love is new, Jealousy slipt into the reign of sleep, Dethroned her sovereignty and crowned as queen Her rival — Wakefulness. Ah, what were sleep To me, who fold my idol to my breast? To me, possessing him, knowing that when His ear had tired of music, when his eye Had wearied of the dancing, when his tongue Had jaded in the flavors of old wine, When poetry had lost its subtle art To please him, when his lips were very near The kiss he would not rob from girlish bloom, His arms about the prize he would not claim From youth — then, then, and only then he thought Of me, the full o