y*. ''**-■ - - - " - - * A ^- \.^' ^ K V,^^\*i<»^'o'V.s^^ °^^*'^^'-%o^ "V^^\^'' "K^'^^'-'J'' .. .. ,«•" .... •^^ '•' V>*'% «.^ •^v^* <^o "^irr.^ .0 So Foices of the City T^ JU- Of this Edition but Five Hundred Coiiies Were Printed. This Book Is Number J- 0 r 'IN 1 HIS OEKP WOOD NO DRIP OK MURMURING STREAMS" — In The Forestry Building Voices of the City BY MARION COOK STOW Author of "Where Flows Hood River" and "The Child and the Dream" WITH ORIGINAL DRAWINGS AND DECORATIONS THE METROPOLITAN PRESS PORTLAND, OREGON 1909 C:ci.a::;;io;v; ^ Copyright. 1909, by Marlon Cook Stow TO PORTLAND: ITS GROWTH AND POWER LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "In this deep wood no drip of murmuring streams" .... Frontispiece "A passing grace Is lent by lanterned balconies" . . Page 1 3 "When from the mountains slip the loosening snows" Page 1 7 "With some the ^eet allures" . . Page 23 "I turn aside From bits of tangled vi^as" . . . Page 27 CONTENTS Page The Call of the City .... 11 In Chinatown 12 The Harbor at Night 14 Wires . 15 The Meadow Lark 16 Fe^ival Days 18 In the Forestry Building 19 Dawn . 20 The Song of the River 21 The Street 22 When Ships Go Down . 24 The Spirit of the Night 25 From Gorgeous Heights . 26 Suburbs 28 The Night Pageant 29 Newsboys 30 ^W^HAT is this tumult borne upon the air, ¥ ■ W This clamorous strife? O city, nearly great! The benedictions of a knowing Fate Have been but whispered, yet the inevitable care Of each day's toil, where competition bare Invigorates the fray, doth still await Thy every hour; and all too passionate Doth rule the courage that would win and dare. Yet this thy call ; this ceaseless, restless strain. These hands outstretched for more, — nor pity sought For calmer moments. . . Evermore, I think, Wilt thou be calling, evermore for gain! But O beware, lest gold and fame be bought With thy heart's blood. Thou standesi at the brinl( ! THE CALL OF THE CITY 11 II. I WANDER through the quaint, odd-looking street That speaks of other worlds; the dingy face Of each tall front stares down. A passing grace Is lent by lanterned balconies, and sweet Azalia blooms that tempt my loitering feet To climb and see where in this sordid place, Lurks beauty all unguessed; what curious race Is this in which both art and grimness meet! ' And, shuddering, I cast a furtive peep Up dimly-lighted stairs that seem to keep Their ghostly secrecy in light of day, And call to eerie flights of mystery! Lives piled on lives! How far away they seem! And all this but the likeness of a dream! IN CHINATOWN 12 "A PASSING GRACE IS LENT BY LANTERNED BALCONIES" -In Chinatown 13 III. OIM phantom ships moored to a phantom shore; Athwart the sky in tangled maze, the spars Cross and recross; low-hung beneath the stars, The moon shines pale through mists of gray flung o'er The city's smothered din. An hour before. The west was all a-flame; now evening's bars Shut out the day ; earth's garish mind that wars Within itself, tastes peace — and sighs for more. The lazy river laps against the piers. Stirred by a faint night- wind; cool shadows fall And fill the silence; gleaming paths of gold Shine from the harbor beacons . . Wan- dering years Sink back upon themselves before it all. And fancy leads away to night's dream-fold! THE HARBOR AT NIGHT 14 IV. nIKE some caged bird within whose plumed breast, The fires of freedom burn a steady flare — Though all in vain he beats the resisting air, Mad with his longing — , so a sharp unrest Is mine beneath these wires. I feel close-pressed. Caught by a seeming net, within whose snare Nor day nor night I hold a rightful share Of liberty, full-breathing, man-expressed. O beating wings! O flutter of delight At empty spaces reaching to the night! At seamless blue unmarred by crude device! Men's aids and arts are purchased with a price. And something of his finer self he yields As entrance-fee into invention's fields. WIRES 15 ^Tf^HEN from the mountains slip the loosening ■ I I snows, ^"^^ And pussy-willows spread their furry tails; When memory of erstwhile winter pales Before spring's softer airs; when swifter flows Each liny, noisy stream and all earth knows A fuller life and action that assails Its every mood and phase; when wide prevails The scents that waft the opening of the rose — Oh then, from every open space and clear Comes a familiar call — thrice-welcome sound! A thrilling, flute-like note that cleaves the air With sweetest music. Far above the ground He rises, borne on swift, exultant wing — The meadow lark, dear harbinger of spring! THE MEADOW LARK 16 "WHEN FROM THE MOUNTAINS SLIP THE LOOSENING SNOWS" -The Meadow Lark 17 VI. XF you should ask to what I might compare These rose-strewn days, in truth I could not say; This fragrant and bewildering array, These masses that incense the very air And make one well-nigh dizzy with their rare, Intoxicating glory. Each new day Brings inexhaustible delights. Away With morbid moods! Away with gruesome care! The city pours its crowd down every street (All gaily bunting-swathed and banner-hung). Nor rest they with the waning of the light; For dazzling lamps the hues of day repeal. And multi-colored gleams the robe that's flung Across the stalwart shoulders of the night! FESTIVAL DAYS 18 VII. VAST silence upon silence, huge, profound; In this deep wood no drip of murmuring streams. Nor sudden glory of warm solar beams; Naught save the stillness; and above, around. The dusky haze of twilight. Once the sound Of countless happy birds awoke the dreams Of these tremendous trees, and silver gleams Of moonlight spread their covering on the ground. And now behold, what wondrous change is wrought! The trees in their immensity still stand. But ranged are they down artificial aisles In grim, majestic wonder. . . . What sad thought Must fill their lonely night, since human hand Is helpless in these man-made afterwhilesi IN THE FORESTRY BUILDING 19 VIII. ^^^^HE night grows pale; the fingers of the morn- ^ J Lay hold upon the day. Against the sky ^^^ The houses loom like sentinels with eye Close on the dawn. A waking life is born To all the waiting world. No more forlorn And futile seems the strife; and industry Grows roseate with hopes and prophecy. And thoughts of men less weary and less worn. Now glows the gray to gold, and shafts of light Send amber gleams a-dancing o'er the town; The city's pulse-beats quicken; hurrying feet Dispel the sleeping thrall of sound and sight; And when the sun hath climbed unto his own, He finds submission to his reign complete! DAWN 20 IX. ^^^^HRO' sunlit fields and wooded hills I come ^ J ( Ve ffiioiv me not for I am from afar), ^^^ And in my birth-home naught there is to mar The pure reflected day. 1 he ceaseless hum Of my own murmur is the quiet sum Of aught that breaks the silence. All this war Of petty tongues is stilled; the creeds that are For life, are lived; and justice is not dumb. But ihou, O city! where can peace be found Within thy gates, however fair they be? Thou hast a glamour, yet thou dost not shine As do the stars that swing their nightly round; And all thy ways breathe not such honesty As whispers from the forest's heart to mine. THE SONG OF THE RIVER 21 X. ^-■^ITH some the street allures; its cleaving tide ■ ^ I 1 (Its swirling sea of faces and of things), ^^■^ An actual, imminent satisfaction brings. This, then, their food; with this their needs allied; On this wide stage their parts identified, A-swing with action — like the huge three-rings Of some great wonder-show which quite o'er- flings Itself in modes and pleasures magnified. I feel not so; give me the quiet airs Of country lanes; the free and glad extent Of star-specked blue at close of summer's day! Here let me claim a virile thought that dares To be its veritable self; here be content To fashion life from something more than clay! THE STREET ^fflJtet 22 WITH SOME THE STREET ALLURES' 23 XL ^■■^HEN ships go down into the waiting deep, 1 I # What various treasures fill each yawning hold, ^^^ From fields and forests dense; and, mayhap, gold Forced from th' reluctant ore. Their trust to keep This harvest for less favored lands to reap, These dear-bought bounties truly manifold! And daring are those hearts and doubly bold Who thus the stale's resources wrest from sleep. But other things there be; the futile tears Of mother-hearts — the parting and the pain! And laddies far from home, with memories Alone to cheer the weeks that may be years; And so, I think, stored with the gold and grain. The brave ships bear the burden of their sighs ! WHEN SHIPS GO DOWN 24 XII. O MYSTERY time! O wonder-breathing night! What chain of fellowship invisible Unites the toiling hearts that with thee dwell! How patient, at the waning of the light, They take their stand, ere lost to waking sight. To labor thro' the hours! How powerful The link thus forged, tho' imperceptible, That binds the days with weldings infinite! The darkness is as naught. Instead, it brings But closer in its wide, alluring thrall. These guardians of dreamers. Here the din Of sordid day is hushed, and nameless things Are seen for what they are; while thro' it all. Beat the low heart-throbs of the life within! THE SPIRIT OF THE NIGHT 25 XIII. IT matters not just when; at birth of day. Or top-most height of sun; or at the rose Of its fair setting, when the mountains lose Their frigid white and, blushing, fade away To faint night-dreamings — any time, I say, This view is wondrous fair, and I suppose Is dearer still to him who need not choose His hour, but has it with him endlessly. But as for me, to-night I turn aside From bits of tangled vistas, to the town Spread sprawling at my feet. The twinkling sky Is matched below by diamonds multiplied In dancing lights. ... I wonder, looking down. Which is the star-swung space — the low or high? FROM GORGEOUS HEIGHTS 26 ■"I TURN ASIDE FROM BITS OF TANGLED VISTAS" -From Gorgeous Heights 27 XIV. HS some wee infant demonstrates its worth All gradually, and for its daily food Receives whatever to fond parenthood Could best avail, — so these choice bits of earth First from the city have their legal birth And nourishment, until each one has stood The test of boom and, haply, proven good; (Thus swells the city's ever-widening girth.) Then presently they stand in strength alone, Their primal freshness rivalhng the call From fragrant, song-filled woods. Men grant their claim; They flock at first to see and then to own; And wouldst thou fain withstand their tempting thrall^ Be wise, O friend, for legion is their nsone! SUBURBS \M 28 XV. ^ ^OFT twilight settling down 1 ; a murmuring tP ' J throng K^ Close-banked beside the c urb. On either hand A sharp line fixed; like : solid walls they stand. Immovable and patient . All along The crowd is duplicate id. Here belong The toiler and the idler , and demand Is made on all who share this fragrant land For pride that's more than sentiment and song. And hark, the band! See now the leaders draw In sight! The march moves down its glitter- ing ways, And dazzling floats their glad surprises bring. These huge designs seem almost without flaw, These sights the best that all the happy days Have offered as a tribute to their king! THE NIGHT PAGEANT 29 XVI. SE sturdy urchins of the city's breed, From stern necessity, on its cold flood Upborne and swept almost aside; ye brood Of scarcely more than babes! Yet in your need Playing the man and cancelling mere creed For active service and crude brotherhood ; What gain is yours to have thus loyal stood Amid the subtle sloth that v^ould impede! How fares the strife? What patience have ye wrought In meeting men? WTiat glean ye from the fray? Think not the buffets dealt ye unawares Shall have the power to overrule in thought What love doth offer for each passing day. Nor that earth's evil with the good compares! NEWSBOYS 30 ,EFe 10 Voices Of MARION COOK STOW ^ ♦ 'l^ "^ • SIS * V Vj <»i. I- A°^ 1». • A, .4*.'J<;^VV r.O*.C'^%*°o .**.'Ji^>V