IPS 3507 
 ^ . 163 S5 
 1922 
 Copy 1 
 
 

 Gopightl^", 
 
 iq?^2. 
 
 rOPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
The 
 Silent Chord 
 
 By 
 
 JOHN DIMPFL 
 
 1922 
 
 THE STRATFORD COMPANY 
 
 Publishers 
 BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS 
 

 Copyright, 1922 
 
 The STRATFORD CO., Publishers 
 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
 The Alpine Press, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 
 
 JUL 10 1922 
 
 ©C1,A0748B9 
 
 "'^o I 
 
Contents 
 
 The Silent Chord . 
 
 The Cry of the Fallen Woman 
 
 Fragments 
 
 The Old and the New 
 
 At the Gate . 
 
 The Underlings 
 
 Which One? . 
 
 The Madonna 
 
 My Garden . 
 
 The Poet's Meaning 
 
 Night Visions 
 
 The Mariner . 
 
 My Prayer . 
 
 Glory and Gloom . 
 
 Thoughts 
 
 The Voices 
 
 Alone 
 
 Song of the Mountain Stream 
 
 Reflections 
 
 Man's Greatness . 
 
 The Thinker . 
 
 . 1 
 . 3 
 6 
 , 8 
 10 
 11 
 14 
 15 
 17 
 18 
 20 
 22 
 24 
 25 
 27 
 29 
 31 
 32 
 34 
 35 
 36 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 At Last . . . • 
 
 Not in Vain . 
 
 Parting 
 
 Passing the Milestones . 
 
 ''I Only Heard Them Sing 
 
 My Sailor Boy 
 
 Light in Darkness 
 
 Life's Windows 
 
 In the Dark . 
 
 Suppose .... 
 
 ''You" .... 
 
 7 ? 
 
 37 
 39 
 41 
 43 
 45 
 46 
 48 
 50 
 52 
 55 
 58 
 
The Silent Chord 
 
 I HEARD the song of a merry lark 
 As it sang at the break of day ; 
 And its song was sweet as Aeolian harp, 
 Or wandering minstrel's lay. 
 
 Its silvery echoes rang out clear 
 Above the murmuring rills, 
 And its joyous notes were flung like dew 
 Across the age-scarred hills. 
 
 He sang to his mate on the alder-bough, 
 For his little heart was gay ; 
 And the tremulous winds caught up his song 
 And wafted it far away. 
 
 I cherish still those migrant strains 
 Of the sweet lark 's tender soul ; 
 But I missed the deep, weird undertone 
 Where the waves of sorrow roll. 
 
 [I] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Perhaps the lark would have sweeter sung, 
 Had it fluttered a bleeding wing ; 
 Or breathed some music, born of pain, 
 From a heart with a broken string. 
 
 And it may be that the sweetest songs 
 That this old, sad world affords. 
 Can only come when some hands unseen 
 Sweep over its silent chords. 
 
 [2] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 The Cry of the Fallen Woman 
 
 *' TT 'MA WOMAN of sin — and my home is the 
 
 X street 
 
 Where the virtuous eye and the painted face 
 
 meet; 
 And I ply my dark trade for the price that men 
 
 pay, 
 
 For my body must live ! . . . And this seems a 
 
 fair way! 
 So you scorn my approach, since I've bartered 
 
 the best 
 That a woman should prize, — and you pass by 
 
 the rest 
 Of the good there may be. Then you hurl a 
 
 rude glance 
 At my shame and my rags, but deny me a 
 
 chance ! 
 
 *Just a woman of sin!' It's the mark that you 
 
 brand 
 On my quivering flesh with your unkindly hand. 
 And my soul that you know not rebels at the 
 
 crime 
 
 [3] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 That pushes me deeper down into the slime ! 
 The stigma is on me, — it glares like the sun, 
 It's the badge I must wear till my life's sands 
 
 are run, 
 But my soul in its twilight wants more than a 
 
 glance 
 At my sin and my wrong, — it cries out for a 
 
 chance ! 
 
 'She's a woman of sin!' And your finger of 
 
 scorn 
 Points me out to the crowd, while it presses a 
 
 thorn 
 In my heart that was once just as sweet as a 
 
 rose, — 
 But now ? I 'm an outcast whom nobody knows ! 
 Yet, I long for the dawning — oh ! — how it has 
 
 grown ! — 
 Though I live in the Dark with my longing — 
 
 alone ! 
 And the toils tighten round, and I see your 
 
 proud glance 
 As I walk down the trail, beseeching a chance! 
 
 'Just a woman of sin ! ' Ah ! I know you don't 
 care! 
 
 [4] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Else why do you pass with your meaningful 
 
 stare ? 
 Do you shun me because there is shame in my 
 
 face 
 That betrays me and mine to your pitiless race ? 
 I've a heart like your own, though it's shut 
 
 against Hope 
 By the law that has doomed us to stagger and 
 
 grope 
 To our desolate graves, all unblessed with a 
 
 glance 
 That would tear through the veil and hint: 
 
 'There's a chance!' 
 
 'I'm a woman of sin !' And I'm fallen, I know, — 
 But why should your pride strike me blow upon 
 
 blow 
 When I ask for your help, while I go to my end 
 Like a creature of Hell, — denied even a friend ? 
 Yet, perhaps, there's a star all ashine in the 
 
 skies 
 Which I fail to behold 'cause the mist's in my 
 
 eyes, 
 And, — it may be — your God — will bestow me a 
 
 glance 
 And give what I ask of you — only a chance ! 
 
 [5] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Fragments 
 
 A LITTLE song of deathless Hope 
 That sings above Earth's roar:— 
 An echo of a higher strain 
 From out a distant shore. 
 
 A little rift of wandering light 
 Steals through the night's wild storm; 
 And then the flight of shattered clouds, 
 And splendor of the morn ! 
 
 A little garden-blossom held 
 Before some paling eye, 
 To cast around the shadowed soul 
 Some beauty of the sky. 
 
 A little wreath of tender love 
 Upon the altar-stairs ; 
 A token from some friendly one, 
 A voice that breathes: ''God cares!" 
 
 [6] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 A little bit of waiting here 
 And lo ! The tide flows out — 
 And then — the harbor's silver gleam 
 And the boatman's welcome shout ! 
 
 A little glint of sunshine bright 
 Upon a tuft of grass ; 
 And myriad memories upspring 
 To greet me as I pass ! 
 
 [7] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 The Old and the New 
 
 Going from me ! 
 Groing ! — To drift far away in the Night 
 Like a ship with a broken mast ; 
 Silently, slowly, to mingle his dust 
 With the things of a crumbled past ! 
 
 Coming to me ! 
 Coming ! — To turn, with his dreamy eyes 
 Towards the hills that beckon and call : 
 Slowly and silently setting his stars 
 In the Old Year's shroud and pall! 
 
 Going from me ! 
 Going ! — With memory at his side 
 Over the Seas of Time! 
 Bidding farewell with a trembling voice 
 As his hands slip away from mine ! 
 
 Coming to me ! 
 Coming! — With Hope to point him the way 
 Toward the land that is to be; 
 
 [8] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Lifting his dawn-lit face to the skies, 
 And calling to you and to me ! 
 
 Going — and Coming! 
 Going ! — and never to come again ; 
 Coming ! — and waiting to go ; 
 Death in the cold of the wintry-night, 
 Life in the morning-glow! 
 
 [9] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 At the Gate 
 
 I CALLED thee once, dear heart, 
 But thou didst bid me wait; 
 And so, I knelt and prayed, 
 While thou didst gently bar 
 Love 's golden-portalled Gate ! 
 
 I called thee once again, — 
 Like bird that seeks its mate ; 
 But still I saw thee stand 
 And list each word, — but deign 
 No answer throusrh the Gate ! 
 
 ■^to' 
 
 And still I called, because 
 I knew thou didst not hate ; 
 And then I saw thee smile, 
 And whisper sweet, — and lo ! 
 I stood within the Gate ! 
 
 [10] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 The Underlings 
 
 I WOULD sing of the fights that are fought, 
 not on heights, 
 But on plains that are reeking with mud; 
 Where the woe of the world, like God's 
 
 Vengeance, is hurled 
 On the lives that are cursed in their blood ; 
 Where the battle for Life wounds and stabs 
 
 like a knife 
 And the Doomed never have a real chance, 
 Where they stagger and die 'neath an insolent 
 
 sky 
 And plead for a pitying glance ! 
 
 But I can't sing it out, when the Rabble's weird 
 
 shout 
 Never breaks like a knell in my room. 
 And my eyes never see all the brute misery 
 That gives birth to their unlifted Gloom; 
 I may picture their Pain and their deep- 
 smothered Shame 
 And the Tale of the their travail and wrong, — 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 But I don't know the half, all the dross and the 
 
 chaff, — 
 So I stifle the strain of my song. 
 
 If I supped with these men, in the dark of their 
 pen, 
 
 On a hard crust of beggarly bread; 
 
 And beheld their eyes dim, as in squalor and sin 
 
 They cried by their cold, sheeted Dead, 
 
 Then, perhaps, I could sing of the poor Under- 
 ling, 
 
 Could echo each sigh and each sob ; 
 
 Till there 'd spring into Life from their hovels 
 of vice, 
 
 A Voice that would yearn up to God ! 
 
 If I lived through the scenes that have shattered 
 
 the dreams 
 Of the men who are made in our flesh : — 
 If I saw them grown mute, like the hard-driven 
 
 brute. 
 Held a slave in the Toils of the Mesh : — 
 I could sing a wild song for the cavilling throng. 
 And cause the proud Worlding to hear. 
 For at last I would know the dark Things of 
 
 Life's Show 
 And how Laughter dies out in a Tear ! 
 
 [12] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 So we think it all out,— all the woes of the 
 
 rout, — 
 All the achings and all of the Shame— 
 And the fears and the sobs of the brutalized 
 
 mobs, 
 
 As they're moved,— just blind Pawns in the 
 Game,' — 
 
 But the song's that we sing won't have the right 
 
 ring 
 Till we live it all out with each Slave 
 Who is ushered through Birth to a Curse upon 
 
 Earth 
 And then sentenced for Life to .... a Grave ! 
 
 [13] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Which One? 
 
 I SAW her pass in the hurrying throng, 
 A woman, pure, serene — 
 A form cast in the mould of God, 
 And a face of which men dream ! 
 
 And then there passed another one, 
 Once scarred by sin 's dark trace, — 
 But, oh ! The glow of God within 
 Wrote glory on her face ! 
 
 And as I gazed, I prayed for her 
 Whose heart was still kept sweet. 
 But longer for the soul whose home 
 Was once the sin-swept street? 
 
 And still I wonder, if the one 
 Who never dwelt with sin. 
 Knew joy and peace so sweet as she 
 Who walked through death to Him ! 
 
 [M] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 The Madonna 
 
 "TT'S A face God must love, for it seems like 
 
 I a prayer 
 
 Carved in beauty and grace, — and those lips 
 
 must have prest 
 All a mother's deep longings and infinite hopes 
 On the lips of the baby asleep on that breast ! 
 I have gazed into eyes glowing warm with a 
 
 love 
 That's beyond all compare with the dross of the 
 
 earth, 
 But these eyes seem to hold a more marvelous 
 
 joy 
 That was born when that tiny soul leaped into 
 
 birth ! 
 
 It's a glorified face, — with the dreams of the 
 
 hearts 
 Of all womankind graven in features of light, 
 And the halo that burns round the mother and 
 
 child 
 Seems like smile of some angel all hidden from 
 
 sight ! 
 
 [15] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 'A Madonna' you call it ! And yet as I gaze 
 I behold but a woman, — anointed to reign 
 With the sceptre of motherhood over a life, 
 And to bear in her face the deep symbols of 
 pain! 
 
 Such face I have seen on a mother bent low 
 O'er a little one, born with a name, — and no 
 
 more; 
 I have seen it where wealth with its largess of 
 
 gold 
 Gave a boon when some baby-craft crept to 
 
 life 's shore ; 
 For God crowns with his glory each mother 
 
 who walks 
 With the Angel of Love through the Valley of 
 
 Pain, 
 And He names them 'Madonnas', — who smile 
 
 upon death 
 To bring life and its raptures back with them 
 
 again ! " 
 
 [i6] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 My Garden 
 
 IT'S JIJ^ST a strip of soft brown earth, 
 Where lights and shadows play; 
 And flowers wake in silent birth 
 To bless each passing day. 
 
 It's just a modest, little home 
 Touched soft with charm and grace, — 
 But love and I claim it our own, 
 Our hallowed trysting-place. 
 
 It's just a sweet and calm retreat 
 Removed from busy mart, — 
 The shrine that stays my hasting feet— 
 The Garden of her heart. 
 
 [17] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 The Poet's Meaning 
 
 I SCANNED one day, some vagrant lines 
 Of an unknown poet's hand, 
 But as I read, I failed to see 
 Why men should call them grand. 
 
 'Twas a bit of homely commonplace, 
 Untouched by art's true skill. 
 And I missed the subtle magic charm 
 Of words that burn and thrill. 
 
 So I cast aside the poet's verse. 
 
 As an idle piece of rhyme, 
 
 And I said his words would never last. 
 
 But die with the Things of Time. 
 
 Long after years, I read again 
 The lines I had once despised. 
 While a something new thrilled through my 
 
 soul, 
 And I stood like a child surprised. 
 
 [i8] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 For the words no longer seemed to be 
 Devoid of charm and power ; 
 For the poet's soul was bared to me 
 In that strange and wondrous hour. 
 
 I feel that a spirit spoke to mine 
 
 From out of the silent years ; 
 
 That a brother-man had learned through Pain, 
 
 The Meaning of Life's tears. 
 
 As I read again the living words 
 On his transfigured page, 
 I thought of the hidden, timeless things 
 That never fade nor age. 
 
 The form of the vagrant verse no more 
 Seemed crude before my eye. 
 For a Voice was speaking out of the Past 
 A Truth that could not die. 
 
 And, ever since, when I scan the lines 
 Of the poets who cross my way, 
 I think of the soul that spoke to mine 
 In that verse of a fleeting Day. 
 
 [^9] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Night Visions 
 
 HAVE you stood in the streets of the old 
 grey town, 
 When the sun had died in the West, 
 And the Angel of Night kept sentinel-watch 
 'er a world that had gone to rest ? 
 
 Did you think of the blatant sin that lurks 
 Where the dread night-shadows dwell; 
 How its fastens its fangs on body and soul 
 And tortures its victims for Hell ? 
 
 There came to you then no plaintive wail 
 Of children who cried for bread? 
 And you saw no vision of trembling hands 
 That toiled until they bled? 
 
 Your ears heard naught of the hopeless laugh 
 Of the souls that wallow in shame ; 
 And bury deep in the jungle of sin 
 Their womanhood and their name? 
 
 [20] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Beneath those shadowed midnight roofs 
 Crushed hope lies covered deep ; 
 And there despair holds men in thrall, 
 And there the women weep ! 
 
 You did not deem such things could be 
 In a world so fair and bright ! 
 But the old grey toAvn could tell you more 
 Of these visions of the Night ! 
 
 [21] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 The Mariner 
 
 OUT of the calm of childhood days, 
 Through the stress and storms of youth, 
 I've sailed across life's weary Main 
 In the quest for God and Truth ; 
 Alone with hope in my storm-tossed boat, 
 I cling to a riven mast, 
 But the headland gleams through the lifting 
 
 gloom, 
 And my ship will anchor at last. 
 
 Dark nights have followed darker days, 
 
 When fever flushed my brow ; 
 
 And Death oft spoke through my wind-torn 
 
 sails 
 As I stood by my vessel's prow ; 
 But still I ride on the crest of the sea 
 With a heart unnerved by fear, 
 For the headland gleams through the lifting 
 
 gloom, 
 And the haven of rest draws near. 
 
 [22] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Fierce doubts and wild confusions bore 
 
 Me from my chosen track ; 
 
 And progress oft was stayed by the gales 
 
 That ever beat me back; 
 
 But still across the moaning Deep, 
 
 I see the lure of a light, 
 
 For the headland gleams through the lifting 
 
 gloom, 
 And the harbor is now in sight. 
 
 And thus I sail toward the rising sun, 
 
 While the breakers roar in my ears. 
 
 But the raging waters will soon be calmed, 
 
 "When the longed-for day appears ; 
 
 And a voice will call from the distant shore 
 
 Beyond the surging sea. 
 
 Where the headland gleams through the lifting 
 
 gloom 
 And the Master waits for me. 
 
 [23] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 My Prayer 
 
 LET me think the thoughts that shall make 
 my life 
 A blessing to the world ; 
 The thoughts that shall help to banish hate, 
 Where the battle flag's unfurled. 
 
 Let me speak the words that shall wing their 
 way, 
 
 Like angels o 'er the earth ; 
 The words that shall put on pilgrim-lips 
 
 The song of heroic mirth. 
 
 Let me do the deeds that shall breath the Love 
 
 Of Him who wrought for men ; 
 The deeds that shall turn some erring steps 
 
 To the Father's House again. 
 
 Let me be in thought, and word, and deed 
 
 The man I ought to be ; 
 A friend to all, a slave of none, 
 
 Courageous, true, and free ! 
 
 [24] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Glory and Gloom 
 
 ATHENS ! I love to breathe thy deathless 
 name, 
 And dwell in thought upon thy past renown ! 
 The sun still smiles upon thy girdling hills, 
 And over all, — The witchery of thy skies ! 
 But fled thy holy festal days, when sound 
 Of tabret sweet and revelry made music 
 In Thy streets. Thy colonnades in regal 
 Ruin : Thy sculptured friezes wrought by skill ; 
 Thy Porches where Proud Wisdom reared its 
 
 thrones ; — 
 Still lure the Pilgrim to Thy classic shrines. 
 In silence wrapt, the eloquence that held 
 The world in thrall! Withered the garlands, 
 
 wreathed 
 On brows that boasted of their heritage, 
 And triumphs of the mind! Mute now thy 
 
 lyres. 
 
 And touched by Time, Thy Grandeur and Thy 
 Pride ! 
 
 [25] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 And yet, City by the Sea, Thou broods 't 
 O'er Thy past, and garbed in cerements of the 
 
 Dead, 
 Still smiles in Glory 'mid Thy Ancient Ruins ! 
 
 [26] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Thoughts 
 
 ''T^ WAS only a cluster of violets blue 
 X That peeped through the grasses and 
 smiled into view, 
 
 But each modest bloom as 'twas gathered by 
 me 
 
 Was a thought from my Garden of Love sent 
 to Thee ! 
 
 'Twas only a cluster of violets sweet, 
 That I garnered one dawn in a sylvan retreat, 
 Where they laughed all their blue at the low- 
 bending sky. 
 And babbled thy name to the winds passing by. 
 
 'Twas only a cluster of violets mild. 
 That I plucked as I roamed through the tangle- 
 wood wild ; 
 
 I bound them with maiden-hair— Those blooms 
 kissed with dew. 
 
 And breathed in their souls a sweet message for 
 you. 
 
 [27] 
 
 /" 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 'Twas only a cluster of violets shy, 
 
 That gazed with Love's Tenderness into her eye, 
 
 Till they both lost themselves in the far-distant 
 
 days, 
 And wandered together beside the Dream-ways. 
 
 'Tis only a cluster of violets dead, 
 
 That withered and paled till their beauty had 
 
 fled; 
 But they smiled as they died, and their souls 
 
 drew apart 
 To silently bloom in the love of Thy heart. 
 
 [28] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 The Voices 
 
 I THOUGHT I was cursed as I turned to the 
 world 
 With its mingling of joy and of strife, 
 And asked it that Sibylline question of old, — 
 The end and the meaning of Life ! 
 Then a voice spoke to me in a plaintive strain, 
 And whispered this word 
 That my soul deeply stirred : — 
 '^The Heart of all Life is — Pain!" 
 
 In sorrow I turned to a child at its play, 
 
 And I smiled at its innocent glee ; 
 
 'Did Life look the same to its far-gazing eyes, 
 
 As it did to my soul and to me ? ' 
 
 Then a voice that was free from the griefs that 
 
 annoy, 
 Repeated this song, 
 In notes sweet and long — 
 The Heart of all Life is Joy r ' 
 
 C i 
 
 I stood by the bier of a friend whose smile 
 Would answer no more to my own; 
 
 [29] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 "Oh! Tell me the meaning of Life?" I cried, 
 
 *'Is it always a tear and a moan?" 
 
 Then I heard in the Silence a wail from a Cross, 
 
 And I caught a deep sigh 
 
 As the Cross passed me by : — 
 
 ''The Heart of all Life is Loss!" 
 
 Unsatisfied still, I spoke to a saint, 
 
 As with staff he hobbled along ; 
 
 His faith-touched face transfigured shone. 
 
 And his lips broke into song; 
 
 And as he passed with a cheerful nod, 
 
 I heard this strain 
 
 Of the song he sang : — 
 
 ' ' The Heart of all Life is God ! " 
 
 [30] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Alone ! 
 
 IT CAME to me in the gloaming hour, — 
 That sob of a woman's heart, 
 And I wondered why she wept alone, 
 And why her tears did start ! 
 
 Perhaps some Sorrow, voicing Pain 
 Had crossed her humble floor; 
 Or, the Darker Presence, silent, gaunt, 
 Was waiting by her door ! 
 
 It may have been that the quiet room 
 Where she knelt in prayer apart. 
 Held naught but a Love, long since betrayed, 
 And the bits of a broken heart. 
 
 But whatever the grief that brought to me 
 That mournful cry and groan, — 
 I prayed that Heaven would bless the prayer 
 Of the woman who wept alone! 
 
 [31] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Song of the Mountain-Stream 
 
 I SPRING from the heart of the noiseless hills, 
 Where the clouds sweep down at night, 
 And the stars enflame their silent peaks 
 With a coronal of light. 
 
 God-born, I leaped from the rock-ribbed slope, 
 And the ageless spirit smiled 
 As He sent me forth to the valley-deeps 
 By the trail of the forest-wild. 
 
 To the men who hear, my urgent voice 
 Speaks clear as trumpet-tones, 
 And there's music bold in my waters cold. 
 And a sob in my stifled moans. 
 
 I sing of the great eternal things, — 
 Of mingled joys and pains, — 
 And I bring to the busy haunts of men 
 The echo of timeless strains. 
 
 [32] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 I bound with a roar from dizzy heights, 
 And my song grows loud and wild, — 
 I flow where the quiet shadows sleep 
 And I babble again as a child. 
 
 And ever I flow toward the unknown years. 
 By market and hamlets and mills. 
 But the song I sing has the musical ring 
 Of the lays of my native hills. 
 
 [33] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Reflections 
 
 A STAR bent low o'er a purling brook 
 That slept in a sheltered glade, 
 And the little star smiled as he saw his soul 
 In the face of the brook displayed. 
 
 The sun shone down on a lone dew-drop 
 That nestled within a flower; 
 And the sun was glad when the dew-drop smiled 
 From the heart of its fragrant bower. 
 
 God looked one day on a human soul, — 
 
 A thing of radiance, fair, 
 
 And the Sculptor's joy broke through his face 
 
 As He saw His Image there. 
 
 [34] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Man's Greatness 
 
 I FOLLOWED, wonderingly, the fearless 
 flight 
 Of mountain-eagle, as on wings outspread 
 It mounted toward the vaulted skies o'erhead. 
 Its falcon eyes flashed fire, when each height, — 
 Effulgent with the glow of dawning light, — 
 It swiftly scaled, while shadow-like it sped 
 Along its lonely way without a dread. 
 As if those skies were his by native right. 
 
 I cannot soar as he, so high and far, 
 Because God's chaos-ordering voice decreed 
 That I should walk, and he should mount and 
 
 fly; 
 
 And yet my thought outstrips the farthest Star, 
 And Mind, that makes immortal every deed. 
 Proclaims me more than bird in yonder sky. 
 
 [3S] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 The Thinker 
 
 THY TITAN mind doth blaze Truth 's flam- 
 ing way 
 For thy less gifted kin, while free from Fear 
 Speeds forth thy thought, high Heaven's 
 
 Pioneer, — 
 To usher in the World's long-promised Day. 
 Life's baffling mysteries their challenge lay 
 Upon thy restless Heart, as draweth near 
 God's mystical concealments, shining clear 
 Above Earth's blinding mists and clouded fray. 
 
 Time-born as we, yet cast in finer mould. — 
 Truth's Passion flames within thy brooding 
 
 eyes, 
 And worlds are born at thy divine mandate. 
 And from our lower peaks, on pinions bold, 
 Thy Thought doth soar among untraversed 
 
 skies, 
 While we the burden of thy vision wait ! 
 
 [36] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 At Last 
 
 ri^HE reddening skies blush with the Dawn, 
 
 I I hear the birds' sweet trill; 
 And echoing murmurs come to me 
 From river and from rill. 
 But well I know the day will die 
 Like song of heaven's lark, 
 And o'er the dusky woods will glide 
 The shadows and the dark. 
 
 With burdened wings, the gloom of night 
 
 Sweeps over hill and dale ; 
 
 And in the darkening skies I see 
 
 The lightning's blazoned trail. 
 
 But well I know those wrathful clouds 
 
 Will pass with midnight's storm, 
 
 And God will bring to me again, 
 
 The shining of the morn. 
 
 And thus the lights and shadows blend 
 To kindle Faith's dull spark; 
 And Darkness flares into the Dawn, 
 And Dawn fades into Dark. 
 
 U7] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 So let me trust, till God at last 
 
 „Will make it clear to me, 
 
 Why Pain and Pleasure, Joy and Gloom 
 
 Must ever mingled be. 
 
 [38] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Not in Vain 
 
 NO THOUGHTS of his sped through the 
 clouds 
 Like flaming meteors, 
 Nor opened wide to yearning hearts, 
 
 Life's barred and mystic doors. 
 And yet he did not live in vain 
 
 Amid our darkened woes, 
 For in each soul where grew a thorn, 
 He planted there a rose. 
 
 He spoke no words of magic spell, 
 
 Nor rode the crest of fame ; 
 And men, because they knew him not. 
 
 Passed by his humble name. 
 And yet with aching eyes he saw 
 
 Some souls their thorns disclose. 
 And Pain-racked hearts grew glad as he 
 
 Bent down to plant a rose. 
 
 He did no bold, heroic act 
 
 That called for meed of praise ; 
 
 [39] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 He only lived a common life, 
 And walked in quiet ways ; 
 
 And yet in many a hallowed spot 
 His memory burns and glows, 
 
 Because lie plucked a wayside thorn, 
 And planted there a rose. 
 
 [40] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Parting 
 
 I SAW thee step from the sandy beach 
 And sail far away from me, 
 And the waters slept as I sped my prayer 
 Toward thy little boat and thee ; 
 And the night bent down as I watched and 
 
 prayed 
 My vigil upon the shore, 
 
 While thou didst creep down the silent stream 
 In the boat with the muffled oar ! 
 
 I saw thee pass through the twilight haze 
 
 And sail toward the flooding sea, 
 
 And the night-wind caught my pleading cry 
 
 And wafted it out to thee! 
 
 And its broken notes filled the brooding sky. 
 
 Then they fell and were no more ; 
 
 But the ripples slept on the silent stream 
 
 And still was the muffled oar ! 
 
 I saw thee stand in the vessel 's prow, 
 And gaze toward the sunset sea; 
 
 [41] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 But thou didst not know that thy tiny craft 
 
 Was carrying my heart from me ; 
 
 And alone I weep in my loneliness 
 
 As I did in the days of yore, 
 
 But thou must sail down the silent stream 
 
 In the boat with the muffled oar! 
 
 I saw thee turn as the starlight paled 
 
 Above thy boat and thee ; 
 
 And it seemed I saw a tear-drop fall 
 
 Empearled with thy agony ; 
 
 And I called as the shadows seemed to lift 
 
 When the night toward morning wore ; 
 
 But thou hadst passed down the silent stream 
 
 In the boat with the muffled oar ! 
 
 [42] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Passing the Milestones 
 
 I'VE BORNE the heat of the summer's sun, 
 And the cold of Winter's snows, 
 And I've faced the Death of Fever's blight, 
 Where the wind of the Desert blows ; 
 And oft I've stood on the dizzy crags 
 Where the vultures scream and moan, 
 But still I'm glad, — for the milestones tell 
 That I'm coming nearer home! 
 
 The mountains, seared by age and storm. 
 
 Still hang above my trail. 
 
 And my laggard feet climb up their slopes. 
 
 And seek the heights to scale ; 
 
 And though I leave a crimson mark 
 
 On the path I walk alone. 
 
 The passing milestones cheer me up 
 
 For I'm marching on toward home ! 
 
 My eager heart outstrips my feet, 
 My eyes fill up with tears, 
 And memory brings me back again 
 The friends of former years ; 
 
 [43] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 And so I gird my loins anew 
 And vow I '11 no more roam. 
 For every milestone that I pass 
 Is bringing me back home ! 
 
 [44] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 "I Only Heard Them Sing" 
 
 SWEET, sweet were the notes of the morning 
 lark 
 As he sang by the gurgling rills ; 
 And sweet was the song of the captive bird 
 As he pined for his morn-kissed hills ! 
 
 But I could not tell which song was best 
 In their mingled melody; 
 But I know that the blended songs I heard 
 Held a holy charm for me ! 
 
 So I did not praise the lark's sweet song 
 Nor think of the fettered wing 
 Of the bird that pined in its gilded cage : — 
 I only heard them sing ! 
 
 [45] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 My Sailor Boy 
 
 FROM the throbbing heart of the restless sea, 
 The surging tide creeps up to me, 
 Anl I seem to hear in its anguished wail. 
 The requiem-song of the storm and gale. 
 
 With faith undimmed, my vigil I keep 
 For my bonnie lad far out on the deep ; 
 But my mist-filmed eyes have hungry grown 
 For the brave, bright boy who left me alone. 
 
 I can see him now as he waved his hand, 
 "When his vessel slipped from the sobbing sand, 
 And the voice that broke in its last farewell 
 Seems breathed o'er the waste of the ocean's 
 swell. 
 
 The proud ships sail o 'er the moaning deep. 
 And into the night-clouds silently creep ; 
 But where is the boy who sailed away 
 In the early dawn of a cloudless day? 
 
 [46] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Unbroken the silence of all the years 
 
 By the surge that strikes on my deafened ears, 
 
 For the high-souled lad who sailed o'er the 
 
 main 
 Might never return to me again ! 
 
 The wind sweeps in from the wild, wild sea. 
 But my sailor-boy comes not to me ; 
 And yet I wait, I know not why, 
 While my sad heart echoes his last good-bye ! 
 
 I feel the hot tear start from the eye. 
 When the stately ships go sailing by. 
 And I think in the haze of the sunset-glow 
 Of the boy who left me long ago. 
 
 Oh ! Waves ! That beat and surge on the shore, 
 Will my night of waiting be never o'er? 
 Oh ! Speak to my heart, ye Silent Sea, 
 And bring back my long-lost boy to me ! 
 
 [47] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Light in Darkness 
 
 THE PILGRIM stood by the silent grave 
 Of one who had ceased to be, 
 And pondered the meaning of life and death 
 And Immortality. 
 
 His soul cried out for a glimmering truth 
 That would quiet his anxious fears, 
 And lift the sable cloud of grief 
 And staj^ his falling tears. 
 
 And as he thought of loved ones gone 
 Beyond the heart's recall, 
 He thrust this question 'gainst the skies; 
 ''Is Death the end of all?" 
 
 Then said a violet, — ''A tiny seed, 
 I dwelt in a home of gloom. 
 Till the Master pushed the clods away 
 And called me forth to bloom." 
 
 [48] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 And the Birds replied, — ''There's a sunny clime 
 Where the winter- winds ne'er blow, 
 But we never geek those Southern skies, 
 Till our Father bids us go. ' ' 
 
 Then an angel spoke, — ''All list to me 
 When I bid them cease their strife ! 
 They call me Death, for my face is veiled, 
 But God has named me Life." 
 
 And that is why the violets bloom, 
 
 And the sky is filled with song, 
 
 And the deathless Angel stands by the grave 
 
 And says to Faith, — "Be strong!" 
 
 [49] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Life's Windows 
 
 I DID not know if my lips should frame 
 A song, or a broken sigh, 
 As I gazed upon the jostling crowd 
 And the faces passing by ! 
 
 I saw the face of a guileless babe, 
 
 As pure as the driven snow ; 
 
 And I wondered if aught of wrong and shame, 
 
 Its untried soul would know. 
 
 I saw the face of a pilgrim old 
 And the sunset glow was there ; 
 It seemed, he longed to be at rest 
 And away from a world of care. 
 
 I saw a face whose rugged lines 
 
 Were lost in the passing throng ; 
 
 'Twas the face of one who toiled for his bread 
 
 But sang as he swept along! 
 
 [50] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 I saw a face of brooding hate, 
 And Death dwelt in the eye ; 
 And as it passed, I raised my voice 
 In an urgent, warning cry. 
 
 I saw a face all seamed and torn 
 
 With the touch of a brutal strife ; 
 
 And I knew that something forever had gone 
 
 From out of that shadowed life ! 
 
 And so the faces passed me by, 
 Some good ; some sad ; some bold ; 
 But I failed to question as I watched, 
 The story my face told. 
 
 [SI] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 In the Dark 
 
 "TITTHERE is God? I have asked it a 
 
 W hundred times o'er, 
 
 When I pleaded in vain at some fellowman's 
 
 door 
 For a word that would ease me a bit of my 
 
 load, 
 Or give cheer to my heart down the long, lonely 
 
 road; 
 I have asked it when men roughly pushed me 
 
 aside, 
 With a sneer at the rags that I tried hard to 
 
 hide, 
 Yet, unfriended, I tramp through the wide 
 
 world alone. 
 And God Himself seems sort of hard on His 
 
 own. 
 
 Yes! It may be, I'm craven, and lacking the 
 
 stuff 
 Which compels souls to sing when the wayside 
 
 is rough ; 
 
 [52] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 And it may be unkind to give up loving God 
 When your Hope's trampled down like a waste 
 
 bit of clod! 
 But it tries one's best Faith when the World 
 
 passes by 
 And your kindred don't care if you live or you 
 
 die; 
 And it cuts like a knife when you meet with a 
 
 frown 
 From the ones who won't help you to rise when 
 
 you're down! 
 
 There are times when it seems that the beauti- 
 ful songs 
 Of the birds breathe a hush o'er the world's 
 
 stinging wrongs, 
 And the river that babbles it's way to the sea 
 Sings a song filled with Hope that is meant just 
 
 for me ; 
 Then they go into silence, — those voices so 
 
 sweet, 
 Like the roses that wither and die 'round my 
 
 feet, 
 Then I think of how men have disdained me a 
 
 nod 
 When I prayed for their help and the smile of 
 
 their God ! 
 
 [53] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 I'm a vagabond tramp, and I'll trudge o'er the 
 
 Earth 
 Till I've lived out the days of my unlifted 
 
 Curse ; 
 Yet my heart isn't dead — though I cry with a 
 
 hate 
 That burns hot against all who have brought 
 
 me my fate ; 
 There's a tiny spark left in the soul that they 
 
 scorn 
 And I'm bruised by their blows and left 
 
 hardened and worn, 
 But, perhaps, when the long fight's a thing of 
 
 the past, 
 The clouds may depart — and I'll see God at 
 
 last ! ' ' 
 
 [54] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Suppose 1 
 
 "OJ^UPPOSE that the world in its open hands 
 
 f^^ Held only two prizes rare, — 
 And your heart could choose but only one 
 Of the tempting gifts held there ! 
 Suppose that the one was a woman's love, 
 And the other great wealth untold; 
 Would you grasp at love as the better gift, 
 Or ask for the hoard of gold? 
 
 Suppose that your soul was lured by the dream 
 
 And the gleam of the glittering prize ; 
 
 While the love shone bright through a mist of 
 
 tears 
 In a woman's longing eyes! 
 Would you choose the heap of sordid dust, 
 And gloat o'er the golden pile? 
 Or bind the woman's heart to your own, 
 And thank your God for her smile? 
 
 Suppose that the friends on whom you've 
 
 leaned 
 In days of sadness and mirth, 
 
 [55] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 Had gathered the gold from the ends of the 
 
 world 
 And scorned Love 's deep, infinite worth ! 
 Do you think you'd cling to the kiss and the 
 
 smile 
 Of the tender, Madonna-like face? 
 Or, — follow the crowd to the altars of gold 
 And sacrifice there your soul's grace? 
 
 Suppose you were told that the gold would 
 
 afford 
 You the joys that fill Life with zest, 
 While Sorrow oft followed the steps of the few 
 Who knelt at the shrine of the Best ! — 
 Would you lean to the side of the true, longing 
 
 heart 
 And choose all of Love with its Pain, — 
 Or, would you reach out for the comforts of 
 
 wealth 
 And strive for a short-lived fame ? 
 
 Suppose that the gold you had chosen for self, 
 
 Would crumble away in your hands, 
 
 And the Love you had scorned would glow like 
 
 the sun 
 That scorches the hot desert-sands ! 
 
 [56] 
 
AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 You still would be willing to take your one 
 
 chance 
 As you passed the world's offers right by, 
 And choose the cheap pile of the Dust they call 
 
 gold 
 And let the Love perish and die! ! ! ! 
 
 J > 
 
 [57] 
 
THE SILENT CHORD 
 
 "You!" 
 
 **/^ OD took a bit of sun-touched clay 
 \J[ And kissed it with Earth's Dew, 
 And lo ! A soul was born in Time — 
 And lo! That soul was You! 
 
 And then He placed a tiny flame 
 
 On angels' lips above, 
 
 And whispered, 'Touch the waiting soul 
 
 Of her who calls for Love." 
 
 God's Angels took the holy gift 
 And breathed it into Thee, 
 And then, one day, a kiss of Thine 
 Gave all that Love to me ! " 
 
 [58]