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ANONA 
 
 "Like the rose 
 And lily she shone, but fairer than the rose 
 And lily in one, and lovelier in the faoe 
 Than she who held Egypt's crown." 
 
Poems Descriptive, 
 
 narrative and 
 
 Reflective 
 
 Pp €, S, ©ople 
 
 WITH NOTES BY THE A UTHOR AND INDEX 
 OF FIRST LINES 
 
 Winchester, Ohio : 
 
 The School Journal, 
 
 19*5. 
 
Copyright 1915, by E. A. Doyle. 
 
 The Frontispiece is reproduced by special per- 
 mission of Charles Scribnefs Sons, of New York, from 
 Scribner's Magazine, being a copy of an original 
 painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 GEO A. FLOHR BINDER, CI N CI N N ATI , O. 
 
 DEC ?.4 1915 
 
 0)GI.A418201 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 Since his first volume of poems was issued 
 five years ago, the author has felt devolving upon 
 him the task of preparing for publication some of 
 his later work, as a partial answer to those who 
 have either unduly praised or censured his earliest 
 poetical efforts. The preceding volume contained 
 most of his work produced before the age of 
 thirty. This volume contains, with some few 
 exceptions, part — although a very inconsiderable 
 part — of the work of the next dozen years. 
 
 It would be of little interest to the reader to 
 trace the origin of the various themes of this vol- 
 ume, beyond the few notes at its close, or to note 
 the successive steps he has taken in the perfection 
 of an art in which he has labored, somewhat 
 intermittently, and in the midst of more arduous 
 avocations, for over twenty years. Soon after the 
 publication of his first book, a teacher in one of 
 the rural schools of the county told the author 
 that his pupils had been reciting some of his 
 poems at school exhibitions. He has received 
 
 III 
 
many pleasing comments and notices from those 
 high in the world of letters and in the political 
 world, yet none that he has valued more than this 
 simple testimonial of the power of verse to im- 
 press the mind of the child. Perhaps the truest 
 test of appreciation is the ability to please the 
 ordinary reader. 
 
 The prevalence of the popular taste for a lighter 
 form of literature almost precludes the hope that- 
 this volume will be received with more favor by 
 the public than the last. Yet if he finds no more 
 than a dozen appreciative readers — "fit audience, 
 though few," the author will regard his labors as 
 not wholly spent in vain. 
 
 Winchester, Ohio, June 14, 1915. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 Winchester, Ohio, Dec. 6th, 1915. 
 The reading public are again enriched with the 
 addition of this new volume of Poems, a beauti- 
 ful and appropriate present for kindred or friend. 
 
 Edmund Burdsall, 
 Pastor M. E. Church. 
 
 IV 
 
CONTEXTS. 
 
 Frontispiece — Anona. page 
 
 Anona: A Classical Love Tale with a Modern 
 
 Ending 1 
 
 Ellinore 37 
 
 The Pirate 39 
 
 The Quarrel 40 
 
 Dante 42 
 
 The Poet 42 
 
 Little Brook That Babblest By 43 
 
 The Revenge 44 
 
 Deianeira 46 
 
 Mnemosyne 56 
 
 The Soldier 61 
 
 Moral Sketches and Sketches of Various Char- 
 acters — Pride 62 
 
 Humility 63 
 
 Faith 64 
 
 Charity ^65 
 
 The Thinker : 66 
 
 The Mystic 66 
 
 The Cynic ^68 
 
 The Question 68 
 
 Spiritus Dei Est Naturae 69 
 
 Anima Spiritus 71 
 
 V 
 
To Count LyofN. Tolstoi 82 
 
 England and America, 1914 83 
 
 To Hon. O. R. Smith, on his 90th Birthday 
 
 A nniuersary 86 
 
 Ceyitennial Ode 87 
 
 Montauk Bridge 91 
 
 Yarley Park '. ;. 97 
 
 The Beggar 103 
 
 A rthur and Helen :. . .. 106 
 
 Love and Death Ill 
 
 To the Early Lark. .::::..:::..;.;;;;... 113 
 
 Moral Reflections — A Sermon in Verse 115 
 
 Hymn to the Creator 140 
 
 Miscellaneous Sonnets — Greece and Crete. . . 14-2 
 
 Time T42 
 
 Ideals 143 
 
 On the Twentieth Century 144 
 
 On the Death of King Edward VH and Acces- 
 sion of George V. 144 
 
 On a Statue to "Peace'' 145 
 
 On the Rise of the New Republic of China 146 
 
 The United States and Mexico 146 
 
 The Settlers 147 
 
 Lines Written in an Album 148 
 
 The Passing of the Year 1^9 
 
 Notes 157 
 
 Street Scene, Winchester Centennial 1915 162 
 
 Index of First Lines 163 
 
 VI 
 
ANON A: 
 
 A Classical Love Tale with a Modern Ending 
 
 I. 
 
 Anona lived among the quiet hills : 
 
 Those hills which seemed less like hills than the 
 
 faded shapes 
 And forms of departed races carved in stone, 
 Whose massive pinnacles seemed to touch the sky, 
 Then sloped by slow degrees to a murky plain 
 Where a little brook, increased by sudden floods 
 Came thundering down a precipice with such force 
 It carried away the farmers' logs like rushes, 
 Sapping the piers of many a rustic bridge. 
 And overflowing the meadows and the fields ; 
 But in summer contracted to a narrow pool 
 Which poisoned all the marsh and meadow flats 
 With foul miasma, till by the cool breeze dispersed. 
 
 On her had twenty summers lavished their wealth 
 
 Of light and warmth to ripen into bloom 
 
 The peerless crown of perfect womanhood, 
 
 And mellow youth; for time had not as yet 
 
 Impressed a deeper furrow on her brow 
 
 Than wrought light household cares with busy 
 
 hands 
 Plying the mop and brush about the house. 
 
2 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 A high and ample brow with azure eyes 
 Imparted to her features a Grecian grace 
 And airy suppleness, but the Roman too 
 Was dominant, showing one born to rule 
 Rather than serve, which chafed at all restraint. 
 Her parents in her infancy had died, 
 Leaving her alone with an ancient monitress, 
 The guide and protectress of her early youth, 
 Named Marjorie Holt, who, Anona grown, 
 Was loath to relinquish sole authority ; 
 Maintained her gentle chaperonage yet. 
 On her strong suzerainty insisting still, 
 And on her rightful prerogative to rule; 
 And, though often tempted to remit her care, 
 To yield here a point, or there a trifle grace. 
 She wavered not by any sign or hint. 
 Unwilling most of all to leave her charge 
 To the perverse governance of her willful will. 
 
 She was a lovely lady, on hsr brow 
 
 The dawning year had set its rarest pearls. 
 
 Flushing with white and crimson; liks the rose 
 
 And lily she shone, but fairer than fhs rose 
 
 And lily in one, and lovelier in the face 
 
 Than she wore Egypt's crown; for on it did beam 
 
 All the intelligence of earth and sky. 
 
 With which she held hourly converse, and as she 
 
 walked. 
 She seemed like one whom a fairy's spell has 
 
 charmed 
 Who wander ever in a land of dreams. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE "^ 
 
 Not only are the fairest loveliest, 
 
 But they that faith and love make wise and good, 
 
 And they who are commended by their lives : 
 
 Else were all the earth devoid of truth. 
 
 She was a part of nature, there was heard 
 
 Its voice in all her speech, music of wind, 
 
 And waving trees, and laughter of the brook ; 
 
 The voices of the incorporeal world. 
 
 Awoke a kindred mood within her mind, 
 
 And lived again in her thought, and made her seem 
 
 A spiritual presence to be felt and heard 
 
 In darkness and in light, like some strange bird 
 
 That flutters down from its celestial height 
 
 To mingle with earth the fragrance of its clime, 
 
 So seemed she half ethereal, half divine. 
 
 Yet less of either than she was herself. 
 
 With birds and flowers she conversed as with 
 
 friends. 
 Yet could they not win her love by any stealth 
 To be less human or more divine 
 Than simple nature taught her, to be kind 
 To all that lived and breathed, neither less nor 
 
 more. 
 Yet these were something more to her than friends 
 For they spoke to her soul, since she was 
 A part of nature as she was herself. 
 And in the wide circumference of earth 
 Or the zoned heavens, no power might be found 
 With a more alien hand to win her heart 
 To be either less or more than what she was, 
 
4 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Twas a familiar power that won regard 
 
 Ere outgrown custom had changed Hfe's simple 
 
 ways 
 To the flat and barren uses of the world. 
 Here the wild life of mountain and of moor 
 Had given to her frame a robust health 
 And the ease of strength, yet her voice was like a 
 
 bird's 
 Or the rippling brook, or those melodious trills 
 Which greet lone travelers, when, after arduous 
 
 toils, 
 And journeys o'er vexed seas, they find a harbor 
 
 near. 
 Albeit lighting on a perilous coast. 
 Well pleased to hear the voices from the shore. 
 
 She seemed a child of nature in a place 
 Where few came save some chance traveller 
 Who would pause to quench his thirst at the neigh- 
 boring well, 
 Offering a light comment on the weather. 
 Exchange a kindly greeting and pass on. 
 And so she grew a part of nature's self, 
 And nature was to her a second self 
 More great and glorious, imaged into calm. 
 The golden summer of a sweet content. 
 
 She knew the name of every bird and flower, 
 Which wore a nobler aspect in all eyes 
 That she had known and named them, and when 
 in her walks. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 5 
 
 It came she passed the violet by the brook 
 
 She would recall a verse she had learned in infancy, 
 
 Which ran as follows: 
 
 O violet that art as blue 
 
 As the ocean beneath or heaven above you, 
 Pray little flower, will you tell me true, 
 Is there no one to think of, care for or love you? 
 Then, if there's no one to sing your praises, 
 
 I will, and send aloft 
 A louder chant than raises 
 
 Dark choir or organ loft, 
 
 Fro.n dim cathedral chorister 
 
 Down to the lowliest forester: 
 To Thee 
 
 Art lonely? Then my company 
 I'll give thee, though in vain, 
 This tribute to thy memory 
 Will live, and live again! 
 How oft in the spring with hearts as blithe 
 
 As the day, and the dew they were dripping over 
 We've waded how deep through the tangled grass, 
 And up to our knees in clover. 
 For thee, who when plucked from thy bending 
 
 stem 
 Art lovely, fit for the diadem 
 Of any king, however great 
 He be, or earthly potentate. 
 So be thou ever blue 
 As the sky and stars, of heaven an image true. 
 
6 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 But when it came at an earlier season yet 
 
 She plucked the Mayflower, heaping her basket 
 
 full, 
 She sang: 
 
 O Mayflower, fairest flower of all, 
 
 For you we've roamed the hedges, 
 Little thinking, you are so small. 
 
 You'd be found in the reeds and sedges. 
 The lilies, king-cups and butter-cups 
 
 May be kings and queens of the heather. 
 But you are a fairer flower by far 
 
 Than either or all together. 
 
 When the sun is up, your little cup 
 
 You fill till its brimming over 
 With the dews the night has left so light 
 
 On meadow-grass and clover ; 
 And when its last beams have hushed to 
 dreams 
 
 The tenants of field and meadow. 
 And all doth steep in slumbers deep 
 
 You bloom still in the shadow. 
 
 Through the livelong day, when the new- 
 mown hay 
 
 Is wet with the dews of summer. 
 You've a gracious smile and a queenly style 
 
 For each and every comer ; 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 7 
 
 Until again come the husbandmen 
 
 To level hill and hollow, 
 Whose sickles sound through the quiet glen 
 Which echoes, "follow, follow." 
 
 With the heart of June you are in tune, 
 
 And your life has no note of sadness; 
 As your fragrance you fling on the breast of 
 the spring 
 
 That ripples with mirth and gladness. 
 O Mayflower, fairest flower of all. 
 
 For you we've roamed the hedges ; 
 Little thinking, you are so small. 
 
 You'd be found in the reeds and sedges. 
 
 Perhaps these lines were penned by some unknown 
 
 bard 
 Whose name and fame long mouldered into dust, 
 Lived but for a moment on the tongues of men, 
 Leaving this last memorial of his life, 
 Ere he passed and was forgotten; until, perchance 
 Rescued and given a place in some newspaper. 
 Ere they had reached a long oblivion. 
 
 Thus she lived like any summer butterfly 
 Flitting from flower to flower, and Marjoris said 
 'Twas well as yet she thought not of a man. 
 But here love found her, for, wandering near the 
 
 brook. 
 Which the rain had swollen to a torrent, she fell in. 
 
8 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 And would have perished, had not a youth 
 ^ ho chanced to pass, seeing her struggles to escape 
 Plunged in the stream and bore her safe to shore- 
 He whom mischance had thrown upon hsr path 
 Was a farmer's son, who in this story shall be 
 
 known 
 As Philemon, otherwise nameless evermore, 
 Who had, beside some knowledge of his craft. 
 Drawn all the ripe aroma of the schools 
 From books, and wiser still, from living men. 
 And often he came through the long winter nights 
 To teach her Greek and Latin, though Marjoiie 
 
 feared 
 Such easy lessons learned they had essayed 
 More arduous tasks of love. Playmate and child 
 They would wander to the fort upon the hill. 
 Or spell the names upon the monuments 
 Within the quiet city of the dead, 
 Or gather up strange shells beside the brook. 
 And one day in a longer walk they came 
 To what looked like a palace in its pomp 
 Imperial, and rich-adorned walls, 
 Whose paintings showed the deeds of warlike 
 
 kings, 
 In gilded frames and arabesque of gold. 
 It was built like those spacious dwellings of the 
 
 past. 
 Seeming fit more for adornment than for use, 
 With fairv pleasure-grounds, whose velvet lawns 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 9 
 
 Were thickly -set with shrubbery and vines, 
 With ample space for promenades and drives. 
 The house looked like a relic time had spared 
 From the reign of Elizabeth, or, earlier still, 
 Which had long survived its use, and only lived 
 To recall forgotten memories of the past. 
 Over it a high wall with gloomy front 
 Loomed ominous ; every door and window bore 
 The yellow mark of age. It looked like the abode 
 Of some rich man who in happier times 
 Had planned a palace built in the waste sand, 
 Having planted a fruitful vineyard, and, at rear, 
 An orchard of apple and pear, with a large progeny 
 Of semi-tropic fruits. The house was kept 
 Now by a single gardener and his wife. 
 Whom they found waiting at the gate to show 
 
 the way 
 To visitors, who made them enter in, 
 And gave tham welcome. ''Strangers," he said, 
 
 "these walks 
 Have sheltered many lovers : first, the graybeard 
 
 minister 
 And the gay milliner ; next the young lawyer. 
 More versed in politics than love, unskilled in 
 
 both. 
 And the fair school miss ; last we, the twain. 
 Who guard the lions of an ancien t race, 
 Alone and solitary : this is all that's left " 
 Anona sighed that such should be the fate 
 Of the house, as she beheld the doors and walls 
 
10 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 A prey to moth and mildew. "It was not always so" 
 
 She said, "0, 1 remember the story well, 
 
 As my father told it, it seems but yesterday. 
 
 'Tis said a score of years ago or more, 
 
 There lived two brothers in the neighborhood. 
 
 The elder, Alfred, as rich as Croesus, 
 
 Eric the younger, poorer than a church-mouse . 
 
 The elder it was said, inherited great wealth 
 
 From his father, but that the rightful will 
 
 Which he destroyed, kept the other from his due. 
 
 Howe'er this be, it came, when Eric, at last 
 
 Was in such woeful straits his small estate 
 
 Was sold clear and clean for mortgage, he asked 
 
 help 
 Of the elder, who spurned him like a dog from his 
 
 door. 
 He went to a distant state, but soon returned. 
 And with the aid of friends, purchased a plot of 
 
 ground 
 On which to erect a dwelling near the old. 
 But Alfred lived in his splendor all alone, 
 For years, until, one night there came a storm 
 That uprooted trees and dwellings in its track. 
 Next day a traveller who passed that way, 
 Having some business of urgent moment, found 
 
 lock and bolt 
 Fast barred, immoveable, and peering in 
 At a window, saw him lying dead upon the 
 
 floor. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 11 
 
 Across his lurid temples were the marks. 
 Livid and black that showed the lightning's path, 
 And all the house was riven by the bolt. 
 Now Alfred had an only son who wandered off 
 To a far country, where, no on 3 knew nor cared 
 Much to inquire, for he was a worthless rogue ; 
 And Eric was advised to seize the estate, 
 But he forebore hoping for his return." 
 *'And did he never return?" "O no," she said ; 
 "So the house remained thereafter tenantless 
 In the state its owner left it when he died. 
 'Tis said the younger brother at his death, 
 Forgave the other of all the wrong he had done 
 On account of the will, and that he died in peace." 
 
 Sometimes when sitting alone upon the lawn 
 
 At dusk, or in the purlieus,of her home, 
 
 »She would relate to him some marvelous story, 
 
 Counting the beads in her necklace all the while. 
 
 First of a mighty ship that went to sea 
 
 Laden. with pearls and gold, which struck a reef. 
 
 Split fore and aft and sank with all on board ; 
 
 But, strange to say, some beads were borne ashore, 
 
 And these were they ; next, how once there lived 
 
 In a great city a maiden passing fair. 
 
 Who had two lovers, which she loved the best. 
 
 She could not tell : she wore the rings of both. 
 
 Accepting both for fear one would prove false, 
 
 And how neither lover who wooed her wed her. 
 
12 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 But left her both to pine in loneUness: 
 
 A fitting fate for such inconstant love. 
 
 Last how two children played together in their 
 
 sports, 
 From infancy, often quarreling over their toys. 
 Till their mother locked them up in separate rooms 
 And thus their youth passed slowly side by side, 
 But sundered by the tide of unseen events, 
 One went to a distant land to return no more. 
 And left the other, whereat her gentle eyes 
 Would fill with tears as she flung the beads aside. 
 And Philemon all the while would gaze upon her, 
 Wondering at the strange magic of her voice, - 
 And rapt by the wild beauty of her eyes, 
 Forgetting about the story in his love. 
 Then the story done she clasped a golden bead. 
 The fairest of all that hung about her throat, 
 And spoke these few fragments of a vague 
 
 nursery rhyme. 
 On "perfumes," or some like similitude. 
 Apropos of a story of the ocean : 
 
 All in a garden fair I sat. 
 
 At Ispahan or Camerat, 
 
 Where India's streams wash down her pearls. 
 
 And many a gleaming sail unfurls 
 
 To waft their loaded ships away ; 
 
 From Sicily and far Cathay 
 
 These odors come in rich profusion; 
 
 And, to bear out the bright illusion, 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 13 
 
 All blooming flowers that scent the gale 
 In loaded argosies that sail 
 From many a fair and distant land, 
 Seem like the voice of living things, 
 That beat about with airy wings, 
 And waft sweet odors to the sense. 
 Though all unguessed their where or whence . 
 With joy do I sit down and trace 
 The habitation and the place, 
 The art by which these perfumes rare 
 Were wrung from herbs and plants, what care 
 Preserves them exquisite to the smell ; 
 From every animated cell 
 I read the history of the clime 
 That wrought them, and the place and time ; 
 Telling again the wondrous story 
 Of nations perished in their glory : 
 Strange kingdoms of all lands and suns, 
 Where Ganges flows or Indus runs, 
 I see the dusky warriors rise. 
 From gorgeous flelds, 'neath lowering skies, 
 To deluge with blood the purple plain ; 
 Or, softer sight, I view again 
 The cheerful villagers who meet 
 Beside the Loire or swift Garonne, 
 Treading the dance with joyous feet. 
 Then in their goblets gather up 
 The nectar from each brimming cup, 
 Stolen from buds and honey-bees, 
 And borne to us 'cross stormy seas. 
 
14 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 "Which, when she recited, Philemon was amazed, 
 And knew not which he should admire the most, 
 On which her modulated voice excelled. 
 And was more perfect, the story or the poem. 
 But Marjorie, fearing she should lose her charge. 
 And scenting disafection, lowered upon her, 
 Her eyebrows pursed to break in a sullen storm. 
 Or spied upon the lovers unawares 
 From the safe covert of the summer porch. 
 
 Then did a new life arise from out the old 
 More rich and glorious ; an angel rent the veil 
 Of the temple and the inner shrine revealed 
 In loftier majesty, kindling a livelier flame. 
 Slid 'twixt the devious purposes of life, 
 And mingling half of the human, half divine, 
 Wrought a newer, larger life to will and work 
 Than the past that faded like a wild mirage, 
 Seen like the lights between the glimmering dawn 
 And dusk, when the moon is driven from the sky 
 By the increasing day, so faded all 
 Her love of nature in a newer, holier passion. 
 That made the old seem formal, cold and vain. 
 Or, rather, it seemed, one was the shadowy part 
 Of what was substance, by reflexive moods 
 Conjoined and fixed, and so the stately palms 
 Moved half across the orbit of the world. 
 And brought the summer of the tropic seas 
 To melt the rigor of the frozen clime. 
 Her love that burned with a pure and holy flame 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 15 
 
 Purged of the dross of worldly self-conceit 
 The golden grains of truth, and left them ripe 
 For the full garner of the marriage feast. 
 
 But Philemon delayed and paltered day by day, 
 And let concealment sap his purpose strong 
 To win her promise, till the season drew 
 At length late into the mellow Autumn time. 
 Then he dared to breathe the hope he long had felt, 
 Yet feared to utter, oft perplexed by doubt. 
 And she accepted, and thus they plighted their 
 troth. 
 
 11. 
 
 O Life, O Light, O sadly-pleasing fear ! 
 
 O Death of Love, ivhen hope is slain and dead ! 
 O Heart of Life that throbs when she is near, 
 
 O Death of Hope that comes when she is fled ! 
 O Rose of joy that blooms but for a day ! 
 
 O Thorn of the rose that outlives its brief hour ! 
 O Autumn chill when summer's fruits decay, 
 
 O Winter bare that killelh bud and flower ! 
 O Day of bliss that banisheth the night I 
 
 O Darkness dread that covereth the sun ! 
 O Daylight pcde, she comes, my heart's delight. 
 
 She comes, she smiles, and hope and joy are one. 
 
 Thus sang Philemon in the twilight gloom 
 
 Unto Anona, his fair bride to be. 
 
 Ere he departed to wander on the seas. 
 
16 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 'Tis said love's current never did run smooth. 
 
 He came to tell her of a foreign quest 
 
 In which he should embark on the morrow morn, 
 
 That well might put her affection to the proof. 
 
 A house in New York with which his father dealt 
 
 Had lately become involved in dark mischance, 
 
 Half ruined by some speculating fiend 
 
 Who had sunk its stock in false securities. 
 
 And begged his aid to straighten the affair : 
 
 So, briefly, he came to say that he would go 
 
 To Japan, to undertake this embassage. 
 
 "I will be there Wednesday without fail," 
 
 He had written, and he had come to say farewell 
 
 And if it be that heaven should grant him success, 
 
 And a sure voyage thither, when he arrived 
 
 He would enclose a pearl, the finest that could be 
 
 found 
 In a letter and despatch it to her, so she might know 
 He was safe and would return his mission ended. 
 So he in tears bade her adieu, 
 And Anona tearful saw him depart. 
 
 Now there was one who had watched the growing 
 
 love 
 Of Philemon with secret envy ; for he too 
 Loved Anona, and lost no time to press his suit 
 Ere his rival's footsteps faded from the lawn. 
 This was Ernest Gray, and, if there was one 
 Whom Anona viewed with only less regard 
 Than Philemon, 'twas Ernest, though she held 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 17 
 
 Him in her favor less as a lover than a friend, 
 
 In playful wise she often told him so, 
 
 Which he, feigning submission, seemed to like. 
 
 And all else which had relish of success ; 
 
 Since 'tis but a step from friendship unto love ; 
 
 For fear the bird that lay within the bush 
 
 He fain would win to be a bright spirit of song, 
 
 Unlimed would flutter back to heaven again. 
 
 But when as he pressed his suit, she told him plain 
 
 She was plighted to another, him only would she 
 
 wed. 
 He would not listen to her, but turned aside. 
 And though oft repulsed, returned, insistant still. 
 Thus he by light shafts of wit and cunning words 
 Essayed with these artful engines unawares 
 To storm and take the citadel of her heart ; 
 Veiled in a silver metaphor of speech. 
 Dropped careless like the babbling talk of babes. 
 Who can only gape or lisp their meaning vague ; 
 For only love can spell love's language out. 
 
 But when, as chanced, they often sat together. 
 
 And she told over again her beads to him. 
 
 For every bead a story, as she had before 
 
 To her former lover, that Ernest, like Philemon 
 
 Was lost in wonder at her matchless grace. 
 
 And mazed by the wild beauty of her eyes. 
 
 And her charms were greatly magnified in his sight. 
 
 And as he breathed to her as fond a love. 
 
 And seemed as true, she was often vexed with doubt 
 
18 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 And perplexed to know which loved her best, 
 The lover at her side or the one who was absent. 
 But when it was told her, which was most true, 
 That Ernest had flirted with all the girls in the 
 
 village ; 
 That among the beauties of the country round 
 There scarce was one that Ernest had not courted, 
 Few of all but had worn Ernest's ring, 
 She thought less of Ernest for Philemon's sake ; 
 At last believed all that they said was true. 
 And that Ernest as a lover was false at heart. 
 
 For many days Anona waited in vain 
 
 To receive a message from her absent lover ; 
 
 The slow and weary months grew to a year. 
 
 And yet another, still a twelve-month more 
 
 Ere she gave up hope. Oft in a quiet mood 
 
 She would wander away into the woods and fields, 
 
 To breathe her airy fancies to the wind ; 
 
 Her old love returning in the absence of the new ' 
 
 For is not love akin to the water-brooks. 
 
 And birds and flowers ? The soft vocal grove 
 
 Utters love's language, again articulate 
 
 To every passing impulse of the soul. 
 
 These were endued by great poets of the past 
 
 With passions, feelings, fancies such as ours : 
 
 Questions and answers to the code of love, 
 
 And heroic attributes ; oft did the gods of old 
 
 Assume their varied shapes to do their wooing. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 19 
 
 If she wrote his name in the sand it would be 
 
 erased. 
 But these kept her secret hidden in their breast : 
 For all living creatures and inanimate things 
 Murmured Philemon to her distracted ears. 
 There Marjorie found her, whither she had strayed 
 Sitting on a withered trunk athwart the stream, 
 And gazing on the brook that babbled by. 
 Near by was a cottage sunken in decay. 
 Beyond the confines of the populous town, 
 Sheltered by trees, a dark-sequestered spot. 
 There stood, or once did stand ; for even now, 
 Some busy carpenter, zealous of gain, with saw 
 And hammer may have levelled down its walls — 
 An ancient cottage that had seen its prime 
 Long since. Dim was the house and dark. 
 As though it held the memory of some dread 
 Unfathomed crime that would not be divulged. 
 The house rough-plastered, was built of unhewn 
 
 logs : 
 Ths ro^f, half sunk away, left many a gap, 
 A last receptacle for bats and owls ; 
 As if the owner to save expense had built 
 A rustic habitation rude and wild. 
 More fit for beasts than men, for the abode 
 Wore a venerable aspect : every log 
 Was ssamsd and creviced by the haad of tims ; 
 The door hung heavy on its grating hinge, 
 The lock immoveable to wedge or key. 
 
20 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 On the rude porch where thick growths of 
 
 trailing ivy 
 Had made a cHmbing trellis-work of vines, 
 The birds had built their nests to sing those tunes 
 More loved in happier times ; the shutters undrawn 
 Showed ruined casements, and windows warped 
 
 and bent. 
 And here and there a pane of glass was missing ; 
 And if it chanced some weary traveller 
 Would stop to rest beside the mouldering curb, 
 In the evening shadows when the crescent moon 
 Clothed all the landscape in a silver haze. 
 Through the thick-foliaged trees and glimmering 
 
 lawn, 
 Fancy lending Imagination wings, 
 And Imagination borrowing Fancy's power, 
 He might behold the forms of an unseen world, 
 See gray hobgoblins dart from out the windows, 
 And ghostly faces glimmer at the doors ; 
 And half-expecting to see some former occupant 
 In the raiment of another world appear 
 To warn him from its precincts, would thence de- 
 part. 
 The premises were a veritable thicket. 
 As though the owner was of a slovenly habit. 
 The gate, loosed from its hinge swung idly in the 
 
 wind; 
 The paving-stones were covered with moss and 
 
 lichen ; 
 The garden, if garden that could be called 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 21 
 
 Which was a barren waste, piled thick with leaves 
 And prickly brambles, lying stark and bare, 
 Bore the footprints of many a vagrant trespasser. 
 Or wild animal that had ventured near, 
 Then retraced its steps as if it shunned the spot. 
 What scenes it must have known in its younger 
 
 days! 
 For happier times it saw when assembled there 
 The youths and maidens of the country round 
 For many a picnic, frolic, game or play. 
 Its history none knew, not even the oldest, though 
 
 some 
 Remembered when the cottage still was new. 
 Thus stood the house for many a spring and sum- 
 mer. 
 Divorced from all with which its early life 
 Was intimate, it alone remained 
 A dark memorial of the silent past : 
 With falling timbers and creaking rafters, 
 A nd dust upon its casements and its doors. 
 
 "Behold," said Marjorie, **in this mouldered house. 
 
 Battered and torn and sunken to decay, 
 
 The likeness of departed love ; ages ago 
 
 It flourished and its garden bloomed with flowers. 
 
 See in its faded flowers how love will be 
 
 When it has vanished, for it smiles not long 
 
 To its deluded votaries, 'tis a dying flower, 
 
 A wandering mass of evanescent flame, 
 
 Ending in dust and ashes, nothing worth." 
 
22 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 (Thus craftily she spoke, for she was soured to 
 
 the world.) 
 "One lover gone is there not another as true : 
 (For she had promised to aid Ernest's suit.) 
 Can but one voice repeat those glowing words, 
 Which like familiar sounds to familiar ears, 
 Seem true and sacred only because they are false : 
 Losing their meaning in a flow of speech. 
 As flowers in desolate places of the earth 
 Will by some foul contagion wither and die : 
 One lover lost, why not accept a new ?" 
 But Anona angrily shook her head in rage. 
 Though she had almost ceased to think of him 
 Save as one dead, or who never would return. 
 
 Sometimes she heard, or fancied that she heard — 
 For things unseen seem oft like things new seen 
 By spiritual sight — like lapsing waterfalls 
 In half -forgotten dreams of distant scenes. 
 Ere slumber sealed her dewy eyes in sleep. 
 From the garden the voice of a wandering bird 
 that sang : 
 
 Fly with me, love, O fly with me. 
 Over the wave of the deep blue sea ; 
 Where life and love is forever May, 
 Thither, O thither let us fly away ! 
 
 Soft blows the wind from the isles of spice, 
 The blossom hangs heavy upon the tree, 
 The sun ever shines on the fields of rice : 
 The dark poppy slumbers upon the lea. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 23 
 
 O sweet is the scent of the gorgeous flowers 
 That bloom through the golden summer hours: 
 Over the wave of the deep blue sea, 
 Thither, O thither let us fly away ! 
 
 There was a lonely grot in the deep forest : 
 The most beautiful of many, in a spot 
 Where ever the leaping wave and waterfall 
 Dash high o'er a rock-bound precipice. Thither 
 
 she went 
 When the wan daylight faded from the sky, 
 And far beyond the ivied hills the moon 
 Danced like a wisp of light across the land. 
 There did she feel the tide of old romance 
 Roll on her soul, deep and unspeakable, 
 And filled with sadness, and a mystic spell 
 Enchain her fancy ; through the darkened grove 
 There moved fantastic shapes that slowly grew — 
 The outer blending with the inner dream— 
 And she heard mysterious voices that spoke, 
 As of the deep that calls unto the deep : 
 "Thou art most miserable of mortal kind," 
 They whispered, and in dark counsels thus ad 
 
 vised : 
 "Thou who art so full of misery, why not cease 
 To be, and mingle thy life with nature's self, 
 Absorbed like Philo in the mystic whole, 
 One grand equation, finding nature in thyself. 
 Lover and friend to meet and part no more." 
 And now the moon burst full upon the height 
 In a shower of gold, no fairy's subtle spell 
 
24 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Could rival the lovely beauty of the scene : 
 Serene she breathed again the air of peace. 
 Like nature, itself, was she not the child of God ? 
 Why feared she then to wander all alone 
 Down the void abyss like an unsheltered bird 
 That beats out its weary life against its cage ; 
 Unknown, unwept, unhonored by any friend ? 
 And then she felt a fierce and terrible joy, 
 Seize on her, and lay her faculties in sleep, 
 To follow the counsels of that unknown voice ; 
 Like some sick man, who, amid his fever's fitful 
 
 spell, 
 Imagining himself sound and whole, sees before 
 
 his eyes 
 In the wild mirage of a distracted dream, 
 On a sudden, fountains in the desert rise, 
 And springs of cooling draughts burst on his sight, 
 So she on the toppling crags and crumbling stones 
 Suspended ominous, above the fall — 
 One step and life and hope should be no more ; 
 Tomorrow's sun would shine but it would be 
 To her another morrow — the dawn would rise, 
 The day succeed the night, as it had before, 
 But not for her. Thus long she stood 
 Balancing joy and sorrow, then retraced her path. 
 Tomorrow it should be, but not tonight : 
 Too peaceful was the scene for such a deed. 
 To touch earth's hallowed mould with foot profane. 
 Then hope rose from out the abyss, and clothed in 
 
 light, 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 25 
 
 Danced on the rising wave, and all the stars 
 Were bathed in bliss, and as the new-risen dawn 
 Flushed all the purple coverts of the east 
 With a new promise, so the rose of life 
 Stole the dark poison from the thorns of death, 
 When reason's sway resumed its tranquil course, 
 And as she retraced the steps along her way, 
 The waving corn across the wayside hedge. 
 And the leaves in whispering galleries seemed to 
 
 say. 
 Swaying and tossing in the summer breeze : 
 "Take heart, Anona, Philemon may live." 
 
 Another month and Ernest was at her side. 
 Though all in vain he sought for any hope 
 That his suit would fairly prosper in her eyes. 
 In vain with all his art he sought to win her. 
 Saying Philemon was dead, else he had surely 
 
 written. 
 But as the months passed and she received no word 
 From her absent lover, and as Ernest was most 
 
 kind. 
 Trying ever to comfort her distress, 
 And seemingly mourned him as much as she ; 
 And, as he repeated over again how he loved her. 
 And never could love another, and that she 
 Was fairer than ten thousand in his eyes. 
 And often pleaded for the lightest word 
 To be a consolation to his heart. 
 
26 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 She felt inclined more than ever to forego 
 Her promise, and plighted troth to Philemon : 
 At last, wearied with his importunities, 
 She said in reply to his oft-repeated questions, 
 "Yes, you I will wed, if Philemon is no more." 
 But she must have a year, three years were gone, 
 He well might bide the fourth, she still had hope- 
 And he like a drowning man, grasping at any 
 
 straw. 
 Though loth to wait, consented, glad of any prom- 
 ise, 
 And waiting its fulfillment, bode his term. 
 
 III. 
 
 When will her absent lover return ? 
 Alone she sits beside a dying fire; 
 Upon her hearth the flickering flames expire: 
 He will not soon return. 
 
 In vain with weary eyes that watching yearn. 
 Ere he his wayward footsteps shall retrace 
 The wind-swept fell and desert dwelling-place, 
 The morning star will burn. 
 
 The evening star has reached its farthest bourn: 
 The bleak wind chideth with a voice unkind; 
 She hears his whisper in the evening wind. 
 Yet he does not return. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 27 
 
 And yet another; in vain with eyes that spurn 
 The day, she Icngs to clasp her lover's form ; 
 His spirit plunges through the battle-storm : 
 Still he does not return. 
 
 He sees her at his side, her form doth burn 
 . Into his thought, turning death's shafts aside : 
 Safely at last he through the war shall ride, 
 And he will soon return. 
 
 O Memory that pluckest leaves from the dark 
 
 past, 
 And scatterest day-dreams all about the earth, 
 That doth hold golden youth in thy strong net, 
 And even comest unto withered age. 
 Thou hast no lamp to cheer, no light to guide 
 In the reiteration of despair. 
 No charm for the repetition of pain : 
 Then dost thou come in the dark weeds of woe ; 
 Thy brow where bloomed the myrtle crowned 
 
 with cypress. 
 Where once thy girdle was a golden star 
 Thou claspest the black cincture of the mourner's 
 
 garb, 
 Thy gorgeous robe exchanged for an ebon mantle, 
 And thy bright raiment for a sable stole ! 
 
 Dear as is the memory of pleasure. 
 And sad as the remembrance of pain. 
 
28 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Unto the soul that has no care for either ; 
 Such is the love that never comes again ! 
 
 Sadly and sweet sang the minstrel-boy, of pleasure, 
 
 Wildly swung his harp, though sad was the 
 
 strain. 
 
 While the dancers danced again to this measure : 
 
 "All lovely is love, though he never come again" 
 
 Soft grew his voice as the weeping willow 
 That murmurs in the night wind its low refrain : 
 
 "O weary is the love that is tossed on the billow ; 
 Which would but can not return again !" 
 
 Then the minstrel stood facing the singers 
 weeping, 
 
 And wrung all its chords in a throb of pain : 
 "O, more bitter than all is when love lies sleeping. 
 
 And never will wake in the heart again !" 
 
 One last chord— but the harp was broken. 
 And he flung it on the ground, there to remain. 
 
 "O sweetest words by love's lips spoken : 
 Love some time will return again!" 
 
 So passed the days, and so each passing year, 
 Would find her living and her love the same : 
 For she could never cease to think of him. 
 And though he were dying still believe he lived ; 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 29 
 
 Until at length, there came the dread event — 
 The wedding, funeral of all her hopes. 
 Thus while she sat with Ernest by her side, 
 There came two letters postmarked Japan. 
 She opened one and read ; it was sent by some 
 
 friend 
 To a neighboring official in the company's employ, 
 And returned to her. It enclosed within its folds 
 A clipping from a foreign newspaper. 
 That told how a traveller from another land 
 In his long voyage through the Orient, 
 Had passed the wreck of some sea-faring craft, 
 The last that remained of a lost ship and crew. 
 The few survivors struggling with the waves. 
 Borne on some empty husks of casks and barrels. 
 He saw them taken in when he arrived : 
 The rest all perished in the general wreck. 
 That among the survivors, there was one 
 Who bore connection with a western house 
 In the new world, who, his business ended, 
 Was homeward bound, one Philemon by name. 
 It told how he was carried to a hut 
 And tended by the dwellers in the isle, 
 Who nursed him back to life, but ere the ebbing 
 
 tide 
 Returned to his wasted frame he was taken off 
 By a foul fever raging in the place. 
 And was buried there, thus briefly it ran. 
 Opening the second, there dropped a pearl. 
 The letter told how his affairs had prospered 
 
30 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NAFRA FIVE 
 
 Even better than he had hoped, how the dis- 
 jointed state 
 Of the company's business thro' his management 
 Would be cemented by a stronger chain 
 And redound to their mutual profit, he had sent 
 The pearl, as he had promised, and would be 
 
 home 
 By the next ship sailing outward, but its date 
 Marked it as sent some months in advance of the 
 
 first. 
 Anona swooning sank in Ernest's arms. 
 Long did she lay within a death-like trance. 
 But when she recovered she could only moan 
 Philemon, over and over again. 
 And would that I could see his face again. 
 In vain he sought to comfort her in her grief. 
 Saying, "tears are useless, will not restore the 
 
 dead : 
 If every tear you shed were a tairy ship. 
 Yet would they not bring him back to life again ; 
 Take heart Anona and live for those who love you." 
 Yet she could only cry, Philemon and Philemon, 
 And "would that I could see his face again!" 
 But when she grew calmer, at length he said : 
 "I claim my bride, now Philemon is no more." 
 But she remained as ever disconsolate. 
 And only called for Philemon the more. 
 So, seeing he could not assuage her grief. 
 He left her to weep out her anguish all alone. 
 She mourned the dead, and evermore would mourn 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 31 
 
 The empty phantom of love's passing dream, 
 When she and all her hopes sank in eclipse, 
 And fate, the flying minstrel, smote the chord 
 Of life's fair promise, mixing all the keys 
 Which broke in music like a devil's dream. 
 That turned to dirges love's sweet marriage 
 strain. 
 
 Like some wild bird, that frightened from its nest, 
 By a dark inmate of the gloomy night. 
 Brooks not the intrusion of its ill-visaged guest, 
 Yet fears by a more vehement outcry, 
 It may arouse the denizens of the wood, 
 And so b© forced to battle for its right. 
 Gives warning to its nest the foe is near 
 By the soft chattering of a still alarm. 
 Though it can only vainly beat its wings 
 Against the intruder, so she in her perplexity, 
 Yet fain to hide it from the babbling world. 
 Lest it stifle all the residue of her life. 
 Suffered in silence, fearing any should know 
 Of how she languished for an inner light 
 To guide her through the desert of the world. 
 Nor gave to love that which it craved, her heart. 
 Though it might win the semblance of the same ; 
 But struggling though vainly against the threads 
 
 of fate 
 That slowly wound their coils about her life. 
 Gave no outward sign or token of her grief 
 Than the fixed brow or apathetic smile — 
 
32 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Affecting sudden languors, passing fits 
 
 Of indigestion for being ill at ease 
 
 In the midst of the general merriment of the 
 
 house — 
 Or a vague disquietude ; so that they thinking 
 That by some strange distraction of the brain, 
 Or of a gross distemper of the blood, 
 She was thus wasted, advised a change of air, 
 A mild sea tonic, or the cooling draughts 
 Of a northern summer in the Isle of Pines. 
 
 She looked into her mirror hour by hour, 
 
 And said : "It is not myself but some pale ghost 
 
 That mocks me with the shadow of myself. 
 
 Giving ether for substance, spirit for flesh. 
 
 And making life the shadowy mask of death. " 
 
 And Ernest loth that he should wed a corpse. 
 
 Sought once again to comfort her, and said. 
 
 Soon should a new love replace the old, and be 
 
 The ripe fulfillment of her earlier vows, 
 
 Lost but to gain new increment of power, 
 
 As fancies yield unto realities ; 
 
 That but the dawn, but this the full-blazed noon. 
 
 Whose light should mix with the eternal S2a. 
 
 A cheerful home and happy motherhood 
 
 Should mock her phantom grief, then w ould she 
 
 smile 
 At her past woe, fit prelude to a life 
 Stronger and wiser, the broken and shattered harp 
 Some alien hand has struck, may be replenished 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 33 
 
 And utter livelier melodies than of old, 
 And all be sweeter, happier than before ; 
 Then would she thank him for his cheerless part, 
 And cherish still the lover and the friend : 
 A month would do much to set her right again. 
 
 The day appeared clothed in a dark cloud 
 On which she should be the bride of Ernest Gray. 
 It was in the bleak October, when the trees 
 Were taking on the somber tints of Autumn, 
 And the clouds seemed a fitting prelude to her 
 
 fate. 
 Above the chequered square the hazy sun 
 Hung like a ring of luminous nebulae. 
 The minister had come and all the guests. 
 With some few friends assembled from near and 
 
 far 
 To see the event and share the marriage feast. 
 And she that was to be the bride appeared 
 In a dress of dark crimson, holding in her hand 
 A bunch of lilacs : paler was her face 
 Than the blossoms that exhaled their fragrance 
 
 through the room. 
 In her hair she were a rose, about her waist 
 A lily, and clasping her neck a bright sapphire 
 
 blazed. 
 Her veil of thinnest gauze she drew aside. 
 And bowed to each in turn, and faintly smiled. 
 But as they stood to receive the ceremony, 
 A sudden noise was heard on the stair without 
 
34 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Louder and louder. "What can it be?" they 
 
 asked : 
 'Terhaps a mail-carrier or a farmer boy, 
 Upon some trifling errand from the street, 
 Who has no business here at such an hour." 
 The minister began the solemn words. 
 Pronouncing each in turn distinct and clear. 
 
 But when the ritual was read: "Wilt thou, 
 
 Anona, 
 Take this man to be thy lawful spouse. 
 To honor and obey," she faintly murmured "yes," 
 "And wilt thou, Ernest, take this, thy bride 
 To love and cherish," when he replied, "I will," 
 Again they heard the noise upon the stairs 
 Which grew and strengthened till it filled the 
 
 house. 
 " 'Tis some one," said Marjorie, "who has come to 
 
 beg 
 A trifling favor of the wedding guests, 
 I will see what's the matter." But when the min- 
 ister 
 Resumed, "Doth any offer valid excuse 
 Why these who stand before you should not be 
 
 joined 
 In bonds of lawful wedlock, let him speak. 
 Or ever after hold his peace," there sprang 
 Into the room a figure cloaked from head to foot. 
 "I do," he said, and, uncovering his disguise, 
 They beheld the face and form of Philemon. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 35 
 
 Anona smiled, the minister stood still, 
 
 As if chained to the spot, the guests sank in their 
 
 seats. 
 Then stared in wild amazement when he said : 
 "Anona and I were long since betrothed ; 
 Had fortune favored, we would have been wed 
 Three years ago, I only claim my own." 
 Ihe guests dispersed in turn, though wondering 
 
 much 
 How Philemon could have risen from the dead. 
 But when Anona, at length, heard the story 
 From his own lips of his strange adventures — 
 How he was cast upon a barren shore. 
 Rescued by sailors, nursed till he recovered. 
 But left in the night, escaping suddenly ; 
 Then hailing a passing ship of merchantmen. 
 He was taken aboard, and so brought safely 
 
 home; 
 And how they all believed that he had died, 
 (He had almost cursed his life for his delay, 
 Had not his appearance unadvised, unplanned. 
 Spoiled the day's event, and balked his rival's 
 
 hopes ) 
 And how he had made his fortune in the land. 
 And she should share it with him : all this he told. 
 She listened to his strange story, and stranger yet 
 His marvellous escape, and after he had ended. 
 She counted her beads again as she had of old. 
 For every bead a story, and said, ''this 
 Is the best story of all the one you have told yoursel : 
 
36 FOEMS DESCRIFTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Next day the village church-bells pealed so loud 
 That half the people assembled at their doors 
 To see what was the matter, and, hastening out, 
 Saw the bridal party pass the porch and enter in 
 At the chancel door, and hastened to the church 
 To view the ceremony. There the same minister 
 Sat in his seat, more gorgeously attired 
 Than the day before : the same guests were met ; 
 The preacher arose and beckoned them a place. 
 The neighbors say that seldom was there a wed- 
 ding 
 In all that country witnessed by more people, 
 A gayer groom or more resplendent bride — 
 And Marjorie was there to give the bride away. 
 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 37 
 
 CUinore. 
 
 Thou art fairer than the rose, 
 
 EUinore : 
 With hair like the twilight's golden close, 
 
 Ellinore. 
 Thy father is of noble race, 
 Rose and lily strive for place, 
 Twenty earls his lineage grace, 
 
 Ellinore. 
 
 An ancient witch, the legend said, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 Thy mother cursed on her dying bed, 
 
 Ellinore: 
 Barren shall her children be ; 
 Love shall vex them ceaselessly. 
 But no husband shall they see, 
 
 Ellinore. 
 
 Lord Moreland was a lover bold, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 He vowed he would wed ere the year waxed old, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 But a quarrel, long suppressed. 
 With thy brother smote his breast. 
 And he would not let it rest, 
 
 Ellinore. 
 
38 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 The two in the fatal Hsts were bound, 
 
 EUinore : 
 Both fell pierced with a mortal wound, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 Brother, lover, cold in death, 
 Lay upon the Moreland heath — 
 Muttered each with his dying breath, 
 
 "Ellinore." 
 
 Love and hate lie in the grave, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 Wildly did thy father rave, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 Low thy star in darkness dips ; 
 Hecate's curses sealed his lips, 
 When the moon was in eclipse, 
 
 Ellinore. 
 
 Life has weal and life has woe, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 Both those cups did overflow, 
 
 Ellinore : 
 Sweet and bitter waters make 
 One strong current for love's sake — 
 And thy heart at last will break, 
 
 Ellinore ! 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 39 
 
 aCfje pirate. 
 
 'Twas a pirate who roved the western seas : 
 A storm was brewing, and strong blew the wind 
 
 And he bared his breast to the salt-sea breeze, 
 
 As they neared the gloomy Hebrides ; 
 The sea was dark and the night was drear. 
 
 Before him stalked a midshipman bold ; 
 
 A storm was threatening, and rough was the sea : 
 Twenty coffers he counted of yellow gold. 
 Safe stored away in the ship's strong hold ; 
 
 The wind blew a gale, the night was drear. 
 
 Fierce did the blood of the pirate run. 
 
 The storm drew nearer, and dark was the sea ; 
 Mine shall be his gold ere tomorrow's sun. 
 And none shall tell how the deed was done : 
 The wind blew stronger, the night was drear. 
 
 He seized his comrade by the throat ; 
 
 A storm was brewing, and dark was the sea : 
 All alone they grappled in the boat, 
 "The sea tells no tales, let him sink or float ;" 
 
 The wind howled hoarsely, the night was drear. 
 
 But the Captain heard, and he spoke in wrath ; 
 
 A storm was gathering and dark was the sea : 
 "Thou viper, and darest thou cross my path, 
 'Tis a life for a life and death for death :" 
 
 The wind blew fiercely, the night was drear. 
 
40 FORMS DESCRIPTIVE, NA ERA TIVE 
 
 ''Whoso sheddeth man's blood," he said, 
 (A storm was lowering, and dark was the sea) 
 
 By man shall his blood be shed, 
 
 Here's hope for the living and prayers for the dead 
 (The wind was roaring, the night was drear.) 
 
 No mercy thou gav'st and none shall have." 
 
 A storm was raging, and dark grew the sea ; 
 So he flung him into the foaming wave, 
 Saying, "May God his soul in mercy save." 
 The wind was howling, the night was drear. 
 
 tICfje ©uarrel 
 
 When housemaids bar the shutters fa3t. 
 
 And coldly shines the winter moon, 
 And echoing to the northern blast, 
 
 Trees murmur with a doleful tune — 
 Philip sought out his fickle love. 
 
 He found her waiting at the gate ; 
 Could gifts of doubtful worth remove 
 
 The bitter words that sealed his fate ? 
 
 A week ago they were pledged to wed. 
 
 But cold would be their wedding morn ; 
 By jealous fears and anger led. 
 
 But yesterday she spoke in scorn, 
 "Remove the ring from off my hand. 
 
 Love but beguiled a passing hour ; 
 Iron fetters shall be its golden band, 
 
 My orange wreath the cypress-flower." 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 41 
 
 The lightest breeze can stir the lake, 
 
 And trifles break the strongest chain, 
 No breath of venomed spite can shake, 
 
 When sorrow has outlived the pain ; 
 Within a book he held enshrined 
 
 A flower she gave him in his youth : 
 Such gifts might move the wayward mind. 
 
 Though whispering tongues can poison 
 truth. 
 
 He took this pledge of affection sweet. 
 
 And laid the little token by ; 
 That night he cast it at her feet — 
 
 The withered leaf of memory. 
 She smiled with merry heart and eye, 
 
 'Torgive," she said, my cruel scorn ; 
 Said he, "sweet air and earth and sky, 
 
 Beam brightly on our wedding morn. " 
 
42 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 In Paradise and Hell, among gods and men, 
 He walked, as fearing not the world's despite ; 
 About his brow he bore truth's tranquil light. 
 Thought's royal diadem. 
 
 He saw the devils in the dark abyss, 
 He heard the angels chant their choral song, 
 Now by a seraph's pinions borne along, 
 Now hearing the serpent's hiss. 
 
 He sat upon the lofty mountain's brow, 
 Where perfect men in God's presence ever dwell ; 
 He stood above the opening gulf of hell, 
 Nor feared to go below. 
 
 His face was knit with care, his shoulders bore 
 The whips of scorn, and pain and sufferings ; 
 Then when the world remits its last sharp stings 
 He died and they were o'er. 
 
 tCfte 3^mt 
 
 The poet sat on his mountain height. 
 Above the dust and the heat : 
 
 Over his head shone the orbs of light. 
 The thunder rolled at his feet ; 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 43 
 
 And, as the music of the spheres 
 
 Arose and beat in his brain, 
 It sang to his soul, but it vexed the ears 
 
 Of the men below in the plain, 
 
 "Come down, O Poet, from thy far height. 
 
 And be one of us," they cried, 
 "For see how the world is clothed in light, 
 
 And earth's kingdoms far and wide ; 
 We will make you lord of the land and the sea, 
 
 A golden crown we will bring. 
 If you will come down to us and be 
 
 Our Leader and our King." 
 
 "I can not come down to you," he replied, 
 
 "To mingle with mortal men ; 
 For who would hear when the song has died. 
 
 And awaken its music again? 
 For if I came down from my mountain height, 
 Yon shining orb would be lost to my sight, 
 A foul moon blast the earth with blight. 
 And the blind world warder in endless night, 
 So I must here abide." 
 
 Xittle Urook tCftat ?Babbles;t Jij). 
 
 Little brook that babblest by. 
 Thoughtlessly, carelessly : 
 Can you tell the reason why 
 You are like a maiden's eye ? 
 
44 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 When she smiles, 'tis then you play : 
 Every day a holiday, 
 O'er green fields and far away, 
 Murmuring love to Httle May. 
 
 When she frowns, 'tis then you fret, 
 (Foolish brook, thus to forget) 
 Caught within a reedy net. 
 In a foaming, splashing jet. 
 
 ; But when the weather's bright and fair, 
 Blithsomely, debonaire, 
 You oft wander— thoughtless pair- 
 Side by side together there ! 
 
 Wi)t 3^ebenge. 
 
 The breeze is silent on the lake. 
 The tranced air is calm and still ; 
 
 Scarce stir the quivering leaves that break 
 In whispers from the dewy hill. 
 
 No sight nor sound but murmurs peace. 
 And all the air is filled with song : 
 
 O who amid such scenes as these 
 Could dream of deeds of guilt and wrong ? 
 
 But he was of a wild Northern race, 
 And knew the warrior's bitter fate, 
 
 And time and the years could not efface 
 The venom of long-settled hate. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 45 
 
 His foe lay asleep upon the ground ; 
 
 As quickly as the tiger flies 
 To seize its prey, without a sound, 
 
 He smote him twice, he smote him thrice. 
 
 The little bird cried out, "forbear 
 To kill :" the sweet wind murmured low, 
 
 To stay his hand, O who would dare 
 Disturb the calm look on nature's brow? 
 
 His victim sank without a groan. 
 And breathed his life out on the plain. 
 
 "None saw," he said, "save I alone, 
 And the dead come not to life again." 
 
 But the bird cried Murder from the tree. 
 And filled his soul with vague alarm, 
 
 No weight of name or chivalry 
 The power of conscience can disarm. 
 
 To right and lett his horrid eyes 
 
 Smote heart and brain, the woodland rung 
 With all the tale, as rumor flies — 
 
 For every murder hath a tongue. 
 
 Strange terrors seized him who undismayed 
 In a hundred battles had borne his part ; 
 
 He hdd aloft the glittering blade, 
 Then sunk the dagger in his~heart. 
 
46 POEMS DESCRIFTIVE. NAERA TIVE 
 
 Beianeira, 
 
 'Twas evening in the plain of Thessaly, 
 And from the fields of ripened grain the dew 
 Dropped lightly to the earth, and the winds were 
 husht. 
 
 Sad Deianeira sat beside a brook, 
 And wept her lord ; he on (Eta's height 
 Had perished, burning on his funeral pyre 
 In the robe of Nessus — and she wept alone. 
 Far over her towered the majestic front 
 Of high Olympus, whose western slope received 
 The evening sun now sinking towards the verge, 
 And shadowing loleas' ancient citadel. 
 Behind her Pelion and Ossa's rugged front, 
 Rose dark and ominous, freighted with her woe. 
 At times there burst upon her ears a sound 
 Of revelry from the noisy populace. 
 Below ; the lizard crept from out the thorn, 
 The little bird piped faintly from the tree, 
 The fawn paused at her feet, or frightened, fled, 
 And over her head floated a golden cloud. 
 Dropping its moisture on the sleeping flowers. 
 But she heeded nor sight nor sound and loathed 
 
 the day. 
 Repeating to the air her mournful tale. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 47 
 
 ''Hear me Earth and Sea, and you, ye Rocks, 
 
 That build up a solid wall against the world. 
 
 Hear me ye Woods, I mourn the prince of men : 
 
 He who once stood like a mighty tower now lies 
 
 Low in the earth with none to mourn for him. 
 
 For I will water all the earth with tears, 
 
 Fill all the brooks and overflow the seas 
 
 To bear my sorrow, and all shall come 
 
 To hear save one on whom the blow should fall, 
 
 lole — Hyllus bring her hither that I 
 
 May mete out full revenge to pay the debt 
 
 Of Heracles, blood for blood, and life for life, 
 
 But no — I will leave her alone to die 
 
 The quiet death that ignominy loves, 
 
 Lamented by the menials of my court. 
 
 And all who loathed her living mourn her dead, 
 
 "I am the daughter of an ancient king, 
 ^neas, renowned in Caledon. 
 While musing alone within my palace walls. 
 Came Achelous, the River-god, 
 To seek my favor. He, when I had spurned 
 In rage, essayed my father, and from him 
 Obtained my hand who had not won my heart. 
 Betrothed to Heracles — him when first I saw 
 I thought I had never beheld so great a man. 
 About his head floated the rosy light 
 And splendor of many battles : like a god 
 He seemed, as he unrolled his glittering arms 
 On which were carved the victories he had won. 
 
48 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Full in the center fair displayed there shone 
 
 A gorgeous figure of Hesperian gold, 
 
 Crowned with Medusa's head ; at its broad base 
 
 The Bull of Crete tossed wildly with his horns 
 
 Against the fierce Amazon, and, at either marge 
 
 Stood the brazen-footed stag of Cocy tus ; 
 
 And all the twelve great labors that he wrought 
 
 For Eurytheus, with his other acts 
 
 Made famous in the scroll of history. 
 
 Amazed I viewed, and loved him for what he had 
 
 done 
 And suffered, forgetting the hero in the man. 
 The issue they fought out : long in doubtful scale 
 The combat hung, when by a sudden stroke^- 
 For so his master-genius drew him on. 
 And armed for battle, brooking no defeat — 
 He brought his foe to earth and ended all 
 In victory, given to Alcmena's son. 
 Great Heracles, redoubtable in fight. 
 
 "Fair rose the sun upon our wedding day, 
 
 And blithely rang the bells, and all was gay . 
 
 And he set me like a pearl amid the crowd. 
 
 Called me his fair and peerless bride, the flower 
 
 Of the court, but now the bride of death. 
 
 Soon on some later business of his quest 
 
 In service for Eurystheus, he set out, 
 
 I following to the realm of Achates. 
 
 Darting through brier and thicket, moor and fen. 
 
 Three brooks we waded o'er the pebbly flats, 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 49 
 
 But when we came to Evenus' deeper stream, 
 Swollen by rain, I plunged beyond my depth. 
 And would have ended all in the dark wave. 
 Had I not spied upon the farther shore 
 Nessus the centaur, in his glittering robe 
 Covered with stars and gems, to whom I cried : 
 Come beast, for whether thou art beast or man, 
 Or both, thou may perchance be of some avail 
 To ferry me across, if thou wilt bear me o'er 
 This rapid torrent, then ask what gift thou wilt, 
 Of value or of price, and I will freely give it thee. 
 Mounting his back, he drew me safe to land, 
 1 hen, not to seem ungrateful for his skill, 
 I said, what gift dost thou require, for thou hast 
 
 borne 
 The daughter of a king? To which he made reply : 
 *I ask no gift of silver or of gold. 
 Or other treasure: one kiss from thy fair lips 
 Were dearer guerdon than ten thousand worlds/ 
 To which my lord all angrily replied : 
 'Away, foul beast, henceforth be thou accursed : 
 Leave thou the unlawful object of thy quest 
 Maimed in thy limbs, or die ingloriously.' 
 Whereat he drew an arrow from his bow 
 And pierced his side, yet before he expired. 
 He took his coat and giving it to me, he said : 
 Take this my last gift to mortals, my robe. 
 And mayest thou doubly prize it both for my sake 
 And as bestowed upon the fairest of her sex, 
 
50 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRA TIVE 
 
 Though my blood has dyed it crimson ; yet its 
 
 folds, 
 Conceal a remedy for wandering love. 
 If ere his love grow cold as oft may chance, 
 Unto the most faithful and loyal of your race, 
 Let him wear my robe and it will return again/ 
 I took the robe and laid it by and kept. 
 And never did I use it till this day. 
 
 "But ere three moons of happy married life 
 My lord grew silent, brooding day by day. 
 As though some heavy business weighed him down 
 And spoke strange words and wandered in his 
 
 speech, 
 So that I knew not what to think of it. 
 For, sleeping by his side I heard him murmur 
 The name *Iole,' and listening further neard 
 What I had better far have left unheard, 
 If I had valued his future peace or mine. 
 For I heard him breathe to her a love more fond 
 Than for myself or aught else of woman-kind. 
 Calling her fairer than the rose in June, 
 Saying how he should love to see her face again. 
 And bear her home sole mistress of his heart. 
 I arose and would have vented such a cry 
 As would have shaken the roof above his head, 
 But feared to rouse him, sleeping where he lay. 
 So fair and god-like shone his face in sleep, 
 O heaven, O earth, and shall I name aught else ! 
 O name abominable, O crown of woe ! 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 51 
 
 I subdued my rage as I silently gazed upon him, 
 
 So seeming innocent, could he thus deceive 
 
 Deianeira, his faithful wife, 
 
 And mock me with another love than mine ! 
 
 Tis well, I said, I have the Centaur's gift, 
 
 And this lole shall be cheated yet. 
 
 At morn he woke all rosy from his sleep, 
 
 But sadly, it seemed, he gazed into my eyes. 
 
 I said, what ailed you that your dreams were ill? 
 
 But gave no hint of all that I had heard. 
 
 And he replied : 'O grievous is the task, 
 
 And hard the battle, for such toils perplex 
 
 The race of heroes they can claim no rest 
 
 But in the grave, for now hath Eurystheus 
 
 Set on me the task to subdue the Achates. 
 
 Once in my wars against their petty king, 
 
 Her father, who would force me to a love 
 
 My soul abhorred, I took captive his daughter, 
 
 Beautiful lole, fairer than the dawn. 
 
 And hither must bring her home, with spoils of 
 
 war.' 
 But in starting he spoke more wildly of his quest : 
 1 knew not what, but hung upon his words 
 As of some sacred oracle of the gods. 
 'Once in my youth,' he said 'I had strange dreams 
 Of larger conquests, for he who subdues 
 Self, achieves a greater victory 
 Than he who fights wild beasts, with more renown- 
 For while alone I sat beside a brook, 
 
52 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Came Areta, offering me the choice 
 
 Of good or evil. Behold, she said, two paths. 
 
 Here is the way of virtue set with thorns, 
 
 And here the way of pleasure, rose-embowered. 
 
 And filled with dalliance : choose which way thou 
 
 wilt. 
 I chose the path of virtue full of thorns ; 
 For what are we more than beasts if knowing we 
 
 defer 
 To use the true prerogative of men, 
 Which lies in reason, sovereign of the mind ? 
 To act with judgment, in the fear of right 
 And reverence for truth, is better far 
 Than to be crowned with the diadem of kings. 
 And makes a man sole master of his fate : 
 For in true judgment all the impulse lies 
 That moves the soul of man to heroic deeds, 
 And justice, elder brother to the gods. 
 Yet ever a will of the wisp danced before my eyes 
 And drew me on to dare still mightier deeds. 
 Ambition to be equal to the gods 
 In wisdom sunk me lower than the beast. 
 Till, blinded by passion I forsook my task. 
 And lost the noble object of my search. 
 Mixing light with darkness : and thus I fell. 
 For, in a fit of anger I slew my friend. 
 Whose wandering spirit haunts my life's last hours 
 With wild regret and alien memories. 
 Since that my Self is vanquished by myself, 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 53 
 
 I fight no more with demons but spirits of the 
 
 just 
 And righteous, until all my toils shall cease. 
 I war with all the herein attributes 
 Of men and the gods until a new self arise, 
 More glorious than the last, and I am free, 
 And my old sin be burnt and purged away. 
 I have wrought many valiant deeds whose fame 
 Shall sound within the ears of all the world, 
 And be bruited in the chronicles of time ; 
 I have wandered far, and fought in many wars, 
 And subdued strange monsters, but must be 
 
 subdued 
 By one still mightier, for my fate cries out. 
 And like a glimmer fadeth all the past. 
 I go beyond the orb of sun and moon, 
 Or any star, or you to follow me — 
 And whither I go there knoweth none on earth, 
 Save the fair and happy spirits of the just 
 Who rest ever in the Islands of the Blest.' 
 He spoke, nor knew I then of what he spake. 
 Save that I should abide in the house till he re- 
 turned. 
 
 "Now when there came report that he had come 
 
 Bringing lole with him, I took the robe 
 
 And sprinkling it with myrrh and incense sent 
 
 By Hyllus, charging him to greet his sire 
 
 As befitted the son of so great a man. 
 
 With a rich present, which he should wear 
 
54 FOEMS LESCRIF TIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 For the sak^ of Deianeira : this he did. 
 
 When he put on the robe, the centaur's blood — 
 
 Such strong contagion doth it hold for man — 
 
 Pierced through every avenue of his sense 
 
 And ail the sinews of his mighty frame, 
 
 Like fire, until at last it reached his heart. 
 
 So mounting the pyre he ceased and was no more. 
 
 Yet thence a mighty wonder did ensue, 
 
 For when he passed from earth and was consumed 
 
 The opening heavens yielding him ascent, 
 
 And all their portals flushing like the dawn, 
 
 Irradiating earth dissolved in mist, 
 
 And bore his spirit on the wings of light 
 
 Unto the happy councils of the gods. 
 
 ''No more beside this brook shall I await 
 His coming, or, startled by the panther's cry, 
 Fly to him for succor. For me the pine shall 
 
 make 
 Sweet music, moaning of departed love 
 Under the silent stars : the wandering wave 
 Shall rise to voice my sorrow to the earth. 
 O Time, return to me my bridal morn, 
 That I may take and hold within my hand. 
 That day, fairest and foulest in the calendar, 
 And crown it with rue for this my heavy woe. 
 O golden-winged hours that flit and pass 
 'Twixt the bright heaven and this too solid earth. 
 Breathe sweetly that from out your empty horde 
 Of lovers' vows you may distil for me 
 Stolen from the false reprisals of the heart. 
 
 I 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 55 
 
 Some comfort before I die and cease to be, 
 
 A shadow to mix with shadows. Did I do wrong? 
 
 Then heaven that didst hear my marriage-vow, 
 
 Bear witness if I held aught else for him, 
 
 Than seemly reverence, joined in equal yoke, 
 
 And ever only to love, honor and obey, 
 
 Befitting gentle wife to gentle spouse, 
 
 O willow, let me wear you next my heart, 
 
 And ever weeping strew my path with rue. 
 
 Ye vapors that close enshroud the earth, 
 
 Shut from me all the breathing w@rld that it may 
 
 not hear 
 The voice ot my unutterable woe. 
 Then heaven hear my prayer and let me die. 
 Yet I will seek Triptolem'js the wise, 
 For, 'tis said he hath the gift of prophecy. 
 And speaks strange tongues and in rough oracles 
 No man can understand ; he may, perchance, 
 Give me some comfort yet before I die : 
 Then will I sit among the sepulchres, 
 A phantom form mocking a phantom grief, 
 Acteon-like to chase me through the earth. 
 Till its spirit shall draw mine forth and mix my 
 
 breath 
 With the vast elements, that shall purge my guilt, 
 Till I be lit to go and meet my lord. 
 But now the sun has sunk beneath the verge 
 Of the deep heaven, and the wind is still : 
 Belov/ the lingering shadow of the pine 
 Creeps forth from spire to spire, to mix with night- 
 
56 FORMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 And far above doth Hesper faintly call 
 
 Unto the morning, and morning and evening star 
 
 Mingle and pass away into the air. 
 
 A vapor steals from earth and shuts the sky, 
 
 And in a moonless heaven float the stars — 
 
 Yet Cometh the darker night that knows no morn ; 
 
 The cricket stirs in the grass, the bird is mute; 
 
 The darkness deepens: 1 must hence away !" 
 
 Mnemosyne, Mother of Memory, 
 
 Crowned with a garland of the Northern pine, 
 
 Her brow prophetic of the coming age, 
 
 Lone wandering from the babbling courts of men 
 
 Unto the realm that Zeus had ordained, 
 
 Dre w through her fingers her thick-braided locks^ 
 
 And while the languor of a summer afternoon 
 
 Stole o'er her spirit mantling ner distress, 
 
 The shadows of the irreversible years 
 
 Fell on her, and she bowed her head and wept. 
 
 She looked upon the hills, but they were bare 
 Of leaf or herbage : thither had retired 
 Her daughters to the Heliconian mount. 
 Clio with her laurel wreath and book 
 Engraved with many an antique history ; 
 Euterpe crowned with a garland of bright flowers. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 57 
 
 Thallia with her shepherd's crook and staff, 
 
 Terpsichore dancing a stately minuet 
 
 To the flute of Pan : Melpomena with sad eyes 
 
 Waking the echoes of the tragic muse ; 
 
 Erato, sounding on her golden lyre, 
 
 Polyhymnia, who inspired the tongue of eloquence, 
 
 Calliope, who made the past to live 
 
 In a more heroic measure : last of the nine, 
 
 Urania gazing ever on the stars. 
 
 "What doth it profit," she said I reign alone 
 By special grace and favor of him who wields 
 The thunderbolts, while my companions far below 
 Deep in the caverns of the nether earth. 
 Brother to dragons, out of earth's deep womb 
 Forge arms for Jove. O rather let me die. 
 Than reign alone sole sovereign of a realm 
 Of lawless nomads, who know not their own name 
 Or any fame or lofty attribute 
 That mixes with the gods, until I become 
 Only the shadow of my former self." 
 For on her spirit deep and unspeakable 
 There rolled the vision of a future race. 
 And she recalled how in her early youth. 
 When vexed with sudden anger or despair. 
 The guardian spirit of the Grecian state, 
 Parting the golden clouds about Jove's throne, 
 A-thena came, and, making obeisance low, 
 Gave comfort as she displayed her shield. 
 And there were many carvings on the shield : 
 
£8 FOEMS LESCRIF TIVE, NA RRA TIVE 
 
 One showed how the olive-crowned city rose 
 Against the Eastern world, another majestic Rome 
 And ancient wars, ani all that should appear 
 Hereafter. Here hundred-gated Thebes rose 
 To the music of Amphion's lyre, and there stood 
 
 Troy 
 Guarded by massive walls and armsd man, 
 With all the mighty deads of later timas : 
 Disjointed records, forms anl go/ernmeats. 
 Sages and kings and all that move the world 
 With great achievement, whose full-o^-bed deeds 
 Should grow and ripen in the tiles of time. 
 Two twigs shs held of the young olive-tree : 
 One was in the sere and yellow leaf. 
 The other bore the freshness of the spring. 
 And she said : "Choose which thou wilt, the dead 
 
 leaf bears 
 Times past, the green the times that are to be." 
 And she chose the newer leaf, for then the world 
 Held torth fresh joy, but she repented now. 
 Then she to whose ample mind the infant world 
 Rose large and luminous, dowered her with the 
 
 gift 
 Of Zeus, a memory that should never cease, 
 Of all that is and was, or yet shall be. 
 
 "Take back thy gift," she said, ''and let me re ign 
 Here in my realm alone, or pass from earth. 
 What doth it profit I hold within my brain 
 Unfailing memory that shall never cease. 
 
 i 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 59 
 
 That reaches through the chronicles of time : 
 
 Old times and seasons that shall live again 
 
 In me perpetually — and ye my daughters fair 
 
 That lie like phantoms on my tired eyes !j 
 
 Why will ye come to vex me with your eyes 
 
 Who know not yet a grief too deep for tears ? 
 
 O rather let me forget than live to hold 
 
 No action, action worthy of a god. 
 
 To know no memory but of a vanished time, 
 
 While all the world shall shins with newer deeds. 
 
 To mock the old dead world, the world I knew! 
 
 Yet never to feel or know that I shall lose 
 
 The power of knowing, or forgetfulness, 
 
 Till time shall burst with its full oracles — • 
 
 To lose no jot of memory, but to gain 
 
 Increase cf knowledge, such well might seem 
 
 To be even equal to the king of heaven. 
 
 Yet would I rather forget than live to be 
 
 Only a part of all that lives and is : 
 
 The spite and petty scandal of the court, 
 
 The jest of kings and knaves, or weaker still, 
 
 And feel all the vague disquietude of time. 
 
 What matter though I horde within my breast 
 
 All times and seasons and all histories : 
 
 That I shall live when yon mountain shall grow 
 
 old, 
 And cities perish, the last to survive 
 A ruined world, if time shall not leave 
 One page exempt from wars of bloody men. 
 ^13 1 to be only a part of all that is. 
 
60 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 To be a part but never be myself. 
 
 If I could lose the power of growing old. 
 
 Be like the graces ever young and fair, 
 
 This were a gift too p:i:ele33 to be !os': : 
 
 This were the full fruition of my prime, 
 
 That links its own life with the prime of the world 
 
 But to grow old amid a newer world 
 
 That mocks me with the shadow of the past, 
 
 I can not bear it, let me cease to be ! 
 
 Ye Hours that slowly bring the Golden Age, 
 
 Ye have made me to endure above all mortal 
 
 chance 
 Or change, yet, though the lore of Tiresias should 
 
 grow dim 
 Beside my knowledge, I would crave 
 One drop of Lethe that would quench it all. 
 Away, thou dream of immortal memory ! 
 Give me instead the power of knowing less. 
 With fuller being equal to the stars. 
 Let me forget all the vain world of time 
 Lost in a dream of sweet oblivion, 
 While all the wintry ages slowly whirl 
 From spring to autumn, careless h ow they go. 
 Or of times and seasons, till tne world grown gray 
 And old shall fulfill the promise of its youth," 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 61 
 
 Farewell, farewell, O light of love! 
 
 The loud horn summons me away. 
 To where yon light battalions move, 
 
 Whose splendor fills the rising day. 
 A fiercer tumult thrills my heart 
 
 Than fame or love or fortune's star. 
 That checks the rumors of the mart : 
 
 1 he idle scorners of the war. 
 
 Farewell! I go where glory waits : 
 
 A lady's silver voice I hear 
 When the squadrons thunder at the gates, 
 
 Now soft and low, now loud and clear. 
 Across the copse the cannon boom, 
 
 I feel a thrill of ecstacy. 
 Her whisper cheers the midnight gloom, 
 
 Her voice is in the battle-cry. 
 
 There mingles with the rolling drums 
 
 The form of one I can not see ; 
 Again thy conquering hero comes : 
 
 Once more, O love, I fly to thee ! 
 When songs of peace shall fill the air 
 
 With blessings of the larger times, 
 War's thorns shall turn to lilies fair, 
 
 The funeral bells to marriage chimes. 
 
62 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 ittoral ^feetcfies?. 
 
 And Sketches of Various Characters. 
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 See yon sleek rogue, the mealy-mouthed publican! 
 Art not weary with continual beating of thy breast 
 
 And crying, "God be merciful !" (at best, 
 'Twere a waste of mercy to save such a man.) 
 
 "Gcd te praised! my debtors call not out aloud 
 
 In the market : I can boldly front the crowd. 
 What art thou to one who a golden censer swings 
 
 Filled with starred gems that load the East with 
 spoils — 
 I, Croesus, lord of lords and king of kings?" 
 Though thou prayest aloud in the street, thou'rt a 
 
 graceless cur. 
 For the Master's words cut like a scimitar : 
 
 "Think'st thou art more than he that spins and 
 toils? 
 What will avail thy riches in the Judgment Day ?" 
 
 But thou so close hast drawn thy cloak of pride 
 About thee, thou art pinched into a space more 
 
 small 
 Than an atom, fraction of the infinitesimal. 
 Yet thy bare soul no artifice can hide : 
 
 Thy heart lies withered ere thy frame is dust, 
 
 And well may welcome nature's kinder thrust, 
 Which hurries thee ingloriously away, 
 
 Old before thou art young, dead ere thou'st died. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 63 
 
 HUMILITY. 
 
 Humility, thou flower of courtesy ! 
 
 Blooming unseen, most adorned when least 
 adorned, 
 
 Or in such russet garb the world had scorned 
 To win thy favor, meek humility ! 
 Know you one in whom kindly nature btends 
 
 True Christian charity with the dove-like grace: 
 Who when in the wrong, is quick to make amends, 
 
 A.nd in the right forbears to urge his case ; 
 Not devoid of dignity, but too refined 
 To cavil at the frailties of mankind ; 
 Who with a beggar cheerfully would share 
 
 His cloak, nor in secret mourn the loss : 
 
 Who counts not his daily cares a daily cross, 
 Content with life and simply being good ; 
 And with no human pride in place and blood ; 
 Who when reviled civilly replies. 
 
 And when attacked has the finer sense 
 
 To forgive the offender and condone the offense : 
 Who acts in meekness and who blameless lives ? 
 
 Though he may live in lowliest estate, 
 A Lazarus before the gate of Dives ; 
 
 He the flower of true humility doth wear : 
 He alone of all the earth is truly great , 
 
 And bears through life more honorable scars 
 
 Than wears the victor of a hundred wars : 
 Though he may be misjudged, misunderstood. 
 
 Though all mankind should load his name with 
 lies ; 
 
64 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NAERA TIVE 
 
 For these and such as these not vainly wait 
 The guardian spirits of the eternal gate. 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 "The substance of things hoped for, the evidence 
 
 Of things unseen," the human and divine. 
 
 This in the vision of the Florentine, 
 Paul heard and of doubtful meaning purged the 
 
 sense. 
 But hast it in thy purse? might make us pause. 
 
 Like doubting Thomas, to be clear of the offense 
 Of sin against Truth's illimitable laws, 
 And vanity atone for want of grace. 
 
 Had'st thou faith as a grain of mustard-seed 
 Thou might'st remove yon mountain from its base 
 
 But not make one jarring atom less 
 Vociferous, or the noisy clamor cease. 
 When men contend for opinion, though sin-freed, 
 
 Sin-cursed they must be to all eternity, 
 Who will not let the old world rest in peace! 
 Let us have rather Augustine's mild faith, 
 
 Willing to believe all that wrongs not Deity, 
 
 With larger faith in man's humanity. 
 Not galvanized, a living life-in-death. 
 Faith in a Christ above the jarring sects, 
 Faith in the school above the schoolman's creed. 
 Faith in the final triumph of the right : 
 On all the rest let Atlas in his might 
 
 Topple earth that after order may succeed. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 65 
 
 CHARITY. 
 My friend was generous with his lachrymose, 
 
 For he would shed some dozen barrels of tears 
 
 For other's faults, but entertained no fears 
 At all about his own — but each one knows 
 
 The sacred saying, somewhat altered here : 
 That he who has a beam in his own eye needs 
 No microscope to discern the hidden mote 
 
 In his dear brother's optics. Let charity appear, 
 The crown of graces, though none but angels note, 
 
 What harmony hope's ruined world succeeds! 
 Self is abased and pride lies in the dust. 
 
 "Write thou me one who loves his fellow man," 
 Ben Adhem said, and then to heaven resigned 
 
 The task to square his maker's long account, 
 
 Nor knew one stroke had canceled half the 
 amount. 
 The recording angel smiled as he seized his pen. 
 "Where thou hast ended there doth charity begin. 
 
 Know thou, 'tis easier like the Samaritan 
 To give the cup than to suffer and be kind. 
 And cease from vanity; lov'st thou thy fellow man? 
 Hast thou a contented spirit even thowgh poor? 
 
 For thy least sin canst thou shed the tear, 
 
 In thy worst foe the equal truth revere? 
 Then art thou one that God and man can trust, 
 
 And may est in love the seraphim supplant. 
 Such judgment as thou giv'st, that will I grant : 
 
 When earth's gifts grow small heaven makes 
 the measure more." 
 
€6 POEMS LESCRIfTIVE, NAERATIVE 
 
 THE THINKER. 
 
 The marvels of this universe 
 
 So far transcend our mortal sense, 
 
 They mock at man's incompetence. 
 
 Nor can his highest powers rehearse 
 Half that his heavy-laden brain 
 Conceives, or count his loss and gain 
 
 Since the human cycle first began, 
 
 Till one appears whose sovereign power 
 
 Sees invention ripening like a flower. 
 
 Not less the scale from God to man 
 He views : each system's rise and fall. 
 Like one unseen, yet seeing all, 
 
 O'erbrooded by a sacred awe : 
 
 For his strong spirit can discern 
 
 The grooves where pride and folly turn, 
 
 A.nd feudal custom bind by law*; 
 
 Till knowledge and truth, made whole again. 
 
 Walk linked in friendship's golden chain. 
 
 THE MYSTIC. 
 
 He glanced at earth, then on the sky. 
 And said : "This moving mystery 
 I can not fathom or express." 
 But half his days and nights no less 
 Wasted in surmise and in guess. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 67 
 
 He walked with his head in a rosy cloud, 
 As if he dare not think aloud, 
 Lest the disjointed frame of things 
 Should tremble to their hidden springs, 
 And truth fly off on alien wings. 
 
 Not finding room to orb about. 
 
 Stood half perplexed 'twixt faith and doubt; 
 
 Yet in all living things he saw 
 
 A complex whole without a flaw : 
 
 The presence of a spiritual law. 
 
 He formed the truth that he did seek . 
 Himself unto himself did speak 
 A diverse speech, void of offense 
 To God or man, or vain pretense ; 
 But seemingly with little sense. 
 
 In contemplation vast he ranged 
 The starry systems, left unchanged 
 To God or devil man and world ; 
 But like a brilliant web unfurled 
 The gold his fancy held impearled. 
 
 Until his deep-oppressed brain 
 
 At last cried : "Will none ease my pain, 
 
 Or frame a neat rejoinder fit 
 
 With his light-feathered shafts of wit : 
 
 1 weary of the infinite." 
 
m FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 THE CYNIC. 
 
 Stern Cynic with the darkened brow, 
 That smitest falsehood to the quick : 
 
 And layest vaunting ignorance low, 
 The frenzied fool and heretic, 
 
 With cunning words which far and wide 
 
 Smite friend and foe on every side. 
 
 With frozen smile and dry lips curled 
 In scornful mockery that would fix 
 The vexed riddle of the world 
 
 Half-way between the earth and Styx : 
 'Gainst Error only may thy sharp invective flow. 
 Let God-like Truth and star-crowned Justice go! 
 
 Thine eyes that measure as they roll 
 The frenzied fool of circumstance. 
 
 Darting a sphere of fire from soul to soul ; 
 Thy seasoned shafts at pride and folly fly : 
 But let the righteous cause go by! 
 
 THE QUESTION. 
 
 I questioned of the star of destiny, 
 
 "Shall I live when thou art vanished from the sky?" 
 
 It still shone on with no word of human fate. 
 
 I said to the Delphic priestess, 'Thou art great ; 
 
 Is there a life for man beyond the grave?" 
 
 The Pythian oracle this answer gave: 
 
 "Lo! I have watched the race since time begun. 
 
 And of the vast myriads there is left not one." 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 69 
 
 I asked the sea and earth, they made reply, 
 "Man that is born of woman, he must die." 
 I asked the prophets. They said *'Is man more 
 
 just 
 Than his Maker who has said, 'all flesh is dust?* " 
 Last I inquired of the bards of ancient time. 
 But their meaning vague was lost in jangling 
 
 rhyme. 
 Then to the wind I vented my despair. 
 And the empty wind to heaven bore my prayer. 
 
 There came a wind, but the Lord was not in the 
 
 wind ; 
 An earthquake, but he was not in it ; 
 And next a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire : 
 Last a still small voice, and he was in the voice. 
 
 Great are thy living works, O Lord, that range 
 
 In ascending scale from amoeba up to man : 
 
 Nor less in plants and herbs and the variegated 
 
 fields : 
 And even in the inorganic world, 
 The gleaming crystal and the mountain rock. 
 What wonder that the inventive Manichees, 
 Forerunners of the modern Pantheists, 
 Imparted to these objects occult powers. 
 
70 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 Thinking they were a part of Deity ; 
 
 Herb, stone and flower, divisions small of Thee— • 
 
 As though if one should prick them, thou would'st 
 
 bleed . 
 Hypothesis absurd! More wise Aurelius 
 Conceived God as a universal Spirit 
 Pervading a universal Substance — thus doth the 
 
 finite 
 Attempt to measure the infinite. How can it be 
 
 otherwise, 
 Than that in some central sphere of his universe, 
 The first prime-moving self -existing Cause 
 Directs all things created and designed 
 By Him? That to organic and inorganic forms, 
 He gave his spirit, dowering with larger life, 
 The effluence of Divinity^ — and even unto man, 
 Much higher though maimed and deformed by sin 
 And can create new forms when these have passed 
 
 away. 
 That his Spirit shall again reanimate 
 His departed dust, and in that latter day restore- 
 To its first estate, but more sublime and pure, 
 Purged from all earthly dross; then shall alone 
 
 survive 
 One deathless image of the primeval type : 
 A living likeness of the eternal form. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 71 
 
 While intent upon a book of curious lore, 
 There came a sudden knocking at my door, 
 And I heard a voice that spoke the words, "no 
 more," 
 
 Much wondering what it meant by this strange 
 
 speech, 
 "Devil art thou," I said, "that like the leech. 
 Thou striv'st to mar those truths the sages teach?" 
 
 "All knowledge is but vanity," it said. 
 
 You but invade the nations of the dead : 
 
 The candle burns with the lives of its votaries fed/ ' 
 
 I said : "The moth that perished in the flame 
 Fulfilled the purpOvSe for which it came ; 
 Its rashness not the candle was to blame. 
 
 Shall any dare to accuse its fate unjust. 
 Though one may perish, yet the myriads trust 
 The golden grains of truth gleaned from the dust." 
 
 "Yet wherefore? There is no knowledge in the 
 
 grave, saith 
 The prophet ; man like a vapor vanisheth: 
 Like mellow fruit he droppeth down to death. 
 
 He dies, he perishes, the silent urn 
 Receives the ashes that no longer burn : 
 Nor shall the spirit to its dust return." 
 
72 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 O darker that prison than deepest dungeon's gloom 
 Without the light of faith. Lo! in the tomb 
 The flower of immortality shall bloom." 
 
 "But thou art lithe of limb and light of heart, 
 Ere thou hast reached the goal thy years depart : 
 Seize pleasure now, let nature care for art. 
 
 Look well about you— the world is wide ; 
 One God-in-man for man's alienment died : 
 Thou art not worthy to be crucified." 
 
 "Not all unworthy," I said, "are the chains that 
 
 bind, 
 If I prefer the body to the mind, 
 My lot were less than providence designed. 
 
 Let Wisdom grow increasing with the years. 
 Till Folly view his course with secret tears : 
 With Truth and Knowledge she shall shake the 
 spheres!" 
 
 'Behold," he said, "how all living creatures range, 
 By small gradations, though in manners strange. 
 Through vistas vast the ceaseless arc of ch angel 
 
 Ever doth nature strive to attain onesteadf ast goal, 
 
 For her the ages like a river roll : 
 
 AH parts she joins to form a perfect whole. 
 
 Doth she care more for man than for the fly? 
 By myriads they perish, yet humanity 
 Is but by slower stages doomed to die. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 73 
 
 Fire, flood and famine against his empire rage, 
 Where is his knowledge reaped from youth to age, 
 When Hke a fly she hurls him from the stage?" 
 
 "Is this the end of man?" I cried, **at last, 
 Like the frail autumn leaf untimely cast, 
 Oblivious of the future as the past ; 
 
 To mix with earth and disappear from sight. 
 When some dread power shall quench his spirit's 
 
 light 
 In the long darkness of eternal night?" 
 
 'Then welcome death," I said, "since soon shall 
 
 fall 
 Around m/ path ths shadow of that pall. 
 Let me see now, at once, the end of all!" 
 
 "O haste not to depart," the fiend replied ; 
 'Thou art but one of the many forms that glide 
 Twixt light and darkness : 'tis fitting thou abide 
 
 Till all shall be fulfilled through time and thee; 
 Through various channels worketh one decree 
 That seals at last all human destiny. 
 
 There is no comfort in the house of death ; 
 The pulse grows cold, and chill as the north wind's 
 breath 
 
 Are all the motions that it quickeneth. 
 
 About the tomb ivy and myrtle creep : 
 
 Silent and undisturbed the inmates sleep. 
 
 No earthly voice molests their slumbers deep." 
 
74 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 *Tho' love," I said, "were mixed with seeds of 
 
 hate, 
 Knowledge and wisdom forged 'gainst adverse fate 
 Truth's empire still would be inviolate. 
 
 I hear a whisper, though I know not where — 
 A voice in the darkness, neither here nor there : 
 And yet, I feel, 'tis better than despair. 
 
 On yon far peak I see a glimmering light : 
 Something, it seems, between faith and second- 
 sight, 
 And I press onward up the mountain-height." 
 
 *'Yet what is all your boasted lore," he said, 
 **But dreams that flutter round a vacant head : 
 Rules, laws and logic to no conclusion led. 
 
 You read by certain signs of moon and skies. 
 Squares, circles, figures in due proportion rise, 
 Still the vast realm of truth in silence lies. 
 
 Can you find out creation's prime intent. 
 Among various systems that which least is bent : 
 Among creeds the best, though all are excellent?" 
 
 "Knowledge," I said, "by small accretions grows : 
 Each age adds but a line, at last arose 
 The majestic fabric of a world's repose . 
 
 From predetermined law it takes its source 
 
 In the first springs of thought, till, gaining force, 
 
 It bears a nation's commerce in its course. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 75 
 
 Behold the crescent moon : its orient sphere 
 
 Doth not foreshadow what it shall appear 
 
 When its full splendor marks the changing year." 
 
 "Though you could gauge the seasons, weigh the 
 sun, 
 
 Tell in what circuits Saturn's'' moons should run, 
 
 And measure the constellations one by one ; 
 
 You can not tell what changes time shall breed. 
 What later harmony shall this succeed, 
 When the vast future is an outworn weed. 
 
 Nor read the riddle of earth's destiny. 
 
 What new forms shall rise when man and nature 
 
 die, 
 And yon bright sun fades darkening from the sky. 
 
 Behold the orbed heavens that above you bend 
 In widening circles all your powers transcend ; 
 They neither have beginning nor an end. 
 
 And all the earth is full of mysteries ; 
 Even could you hope by slow degrees to rise 
 Through these still others would perplex your eyes. 
 
 ''Who shall meet out the bounds of more or less," 
 1 said, "seeing man arose from nothingness. 
 What larger knowledge the coming age shall 
 
 bless- 
 In various forms did nature mould her race, 
 But in ascending scale, each yielding place. 
 In turn to the higher, yet none wholly base. 
 
76 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 From tribes diverse she formed her favorite, man 
 .Reason with him its early course began ; 
 Shall he the highest mar creation's plan?" 
 
 "Could you survey all truth as at a glance, 
 There would remain one alien circumstance : 
 Some jarring atoms that were sown by chance. 
 
 Or create again a world without a flaw, * 
 
 In just proportion moulding force by law. 
 There were some fault Jehovah only saw ; 
 
 Or join all elements in earth, air, fire. 
 In chemic union until thought expire. 
 You are but man, and you can rise no higher," 
 
 Then said I to the tempter at my side : 
 ''Whether I make or mar, 'tis not through pride ; 
 I would that knowledge might be magnified- 
 
 Though good through evil should deteriorate, 
 The Eternal Spirit would rejuvenate 
 The primal essence of its first estate. 
 
 See on the floor where a heap of rubbish lies : 
 A boy's disjointed toys, where soon shall rise 
 A Caliph's dream and house of mysteries ; 
 
 So science lives although the people rage. 
 So history glows on many a scattered page, 
 And learning multiplies from age to age." 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 77 
 
 'How the sects war, and still a barren mind, 
 Dark in the past and to the future blind 
 The seeds of discord sow on every wind. 
 
 See in yon ancient pile whose templed gloom 
 Frowns o'er the deep, where in many a secret room 
 Men carve a name but to adorn the tomb! 
 
 See where with eager care and anxious breast, 
 The scholar, by nightly vigil oppressed, 
 Invents a creed to rob the world of rest. 
 
 Another bends o'er an expiring flame. 
 That he from diverse elements may frame 
 Some panacea that shall bear his name. 
 
 But wiser the inventor, who with faith sublime, 
 Working in nature's fc rzes at their prime, 
 Transcends at a single bound both space and time 
 
 Yet what are they all but atoms more or less 
 In the vast scale : even the boldest must confess 
 That all at last but ends in emptiness." 
 
 "I know but vaguely of the realm to be, 
 Or what dark shadows hide futurity, 
 1 only know to trust the light I see : 
 
 The final triumph of the larger faith. 
 When self and passion both are laid in death 
 And in the east the slow dawn quickeneth. 
 
78 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 For who except the master that designed 
 Man's frame can bound its mazes unconfined : 
 What spheres of thought shall move his ample 
 mind? 
 
 Lo! with the first race of being, came primal law ; 
 Earth rose from chaos, well pleased the creator 
 
 saw. 
 And said, 'Behold my work without a flaw : 
 
 The last, a paragon I will create, 
 
 To him will I give the key of human fate : 
 
 Created good though evil vex his state. 
 
 He shall be ruler of my wide domain : 
 His name shall be on every hill and plain, 
 Though wickedness and folly mar his reign. 
 
 Yet a light I place upon life's arduous slope, 
 That the wayfarer may no longer grope. 
 Led ever onward by the star of hope.' " 
 
 "Would you sift out the evil from the good. 
 Call up the past whose more heroic blood 
 Wrought to like purpose though half understood. 
 
 Star-like arose Philosophy of yore : 
 
 Its wisdom slowly grew from shore to shore, 
 
 Yet it has perished to be seen no more. 
 
 Save some stray gleams, what is it the past can 
 
 boast ? 
 A wandering light, a beam in darkness lost : 
 A ring of fire about a desert coast. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 79 
 
 Can you devise a more perfect rule of right 
 Than the wild Malay, whose distempered sight 
 Caught but the passing glimmer of your light? 
 
 Your conscience is a law unto the blind, 
 Your reason gropes with metaphors to find 
 Some certain index of the eternal mind ; 
 
 Yet you stand more perplexed than before, 
 A shipwrecked mariner seeking for the shore. 
 And hearing no voice to still the tempest's roar." 
 
 I said, "The wise philosophers of old 
 Sowed seeds of wisdom that shall yet enfold 
 The race, and shine in purple and in gold 
 
 In the lists of truth, though they have passed 
 
 away, 
 With all old systems like the potter's clay, 
 Yet they point upward to the brighter day 
 
 Of larger freedom when the swords that beat 
 Our fetters shall fail, wisdom resume her seat, 
 And earth a golden cycle shall complete. 
 
 For through the dust of systems and of creeds 
 I hear a voice that for the future pleads — 
 And from the tomb blind mercy intercedes. 
 
 O yet I trust all that doth dark appear 
 In heaven's mirror imaged firm and clear, 
 At last as truth shall shine a perfect sphere, 
 
80 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 All discord cease, as, joining square and line, 
 Nature unites the complex parts which shine 
 In one clear likeness, deathless and divine." 
 
 "Slowly the times run out their golden sand ; 
 You can not stop the current with your hand, 
 And what you guess another may understand. 
 
 Slowly doth Science ope her golden door — 
 
 Useless the task, each glittering floor 
 
 Bears but the footprints of those who went before. 
 
 No new achievement waits with glorious gains ; 
 Wheree'r you look a wild disorder reigns : 
 Fields Science sowed in light are reapad with 
 pains." 
 
 "Then welcome the toil," I cried, and breathed a 
 
 prayer 
 To heaven that soon might end my long despair — 
 The tempter heard and vanished into air. 
 
 Though light with darkness, death o'er life prevail 
 E'en yet, I said, my spirit shall not fail. 
 Despite the voices that prophesying rail 
 
 At human weakness. Were this the end of all, 
 Earth, man and angels mingled in one fall, 
 What use had nature for an end so small, 
 
 But to involve in new perplexities 
 
 Man's prisoned spirit doom 2d no more to rise 
 
 Above the material earth and darkened skies. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 81 
 
 Though a thousand foes oppose I shall not yield. 
 
 Then as in a glass I saw revealed 
 
 The past and future like a book unsealed. 
 
 I saw how all complex processes that draw 
 From diverse sources mingle without flaw, 
 Bound by no force save universal law. 
 
 I saw how the ruling power that reigns above 
 Doth at once through all his vast creation move, 
 And bind its parts in harmony and love. 
 
 This is the truth, I said, I long have sought : 
 For I felt Faith transform my barren doubt, 
 In the clear reflex of a joyous thought. 
 
 My gloomy spirit found at last release : 
 
 I heard a still small voice that whispered peace, 
 
 Which bade all strife and inward tumult cease. 
 
 Then, as into my vexed mind there crept 
 The strength of new resolve, all evil slept, 
 And at mine old infirmity I wept. 
 
 Once more I walked beneath the summer skies : 
 I saw the meadows glow with dappled dyes, 
 And from the fields a grateful incense rise. 
 
 I let the season's spell steal on my heart ; 
 
 Nature; I said, is but diviner art. 
 
 And peace with freedom shall no more depart. 
 
82 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 aCo Count TLvoi M* Wolsitoi. 
 
 With lion eye and eagle thought, 
 He stood, as poised for rapid flight ; 
 He marked the distant mountain-height. 
 
 And soared beyond the mists of doubt. 
 
 And, anchoring in that space serene 
 Where old Philosophy did dwell, 
 Drew waters from a crystal well, 
 
 With golden sands of truth between. 
 
 He strove for wider brotherhood, 
 A faith above the narrow sect ; 
 Religion poised in intellect, 
 
 Content with the Beautiful and Good. 
 
 Strong-sinewed with an iron race 
 He wrought, the Warwick of the age ; 
 Unmoved amid the rabble rage : 
 
 He craved not honor, wealth or place. 
 
 But in his sylvan solitude 
 
 Found nobler counsellors than kings ; 
 
 The birds of heaven lent him wings, 
 The ravens brought him daily food. 
 
 Though oft perplexed that we should find 
 Some doubtful warping of the grain, 
 'Twas nature's large excess of brain, 
 
 The straining of the ampler mind. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 83 
 
 These wandering notes let us forgive — 
 And where he failed to reach the goal ; 
 While knowledge moves from soul to soul, 
 
 Where freedom breathes, his name shall live, 
 
 And flourish ; and Science shall bear him 
 praise 
 More rare than the plaudits of the crowd— 
 The dregs of fame, the fumes that cloud 
 
 The minds of these degenerate days. 
 
 Though now across the Western seas 
 This votive lay meet alien eyes, 
 'Tis not 'neath unfamiliar skies — 
 
 Truth finds a voice in every breeze ! 
 
 Cnglanb anb America, 1914. 
 
 One Hundredth Anniversary of Peace with 
 Great Britain. 
 
 Old England, great in war and peace ! 
 Thou mighty mother of our race : 
 In whom her glorious children base 
 
 Their hope till suns and moons shall cease ! 
 
 Thou parent of the arts, with whom 
 Sprang Science forth to aid mankind, 
 And invention, borne from mind to mind, 
 
 Gave proof of better things to come. 
 
84 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NA RE A THE 
 
 Of social customs, manners, laws : 
 In all that made thee trebly great, 
 To grasp the golden keys of state, 
 
 To move in every righteous cause. 
 
 Where Freedom from her stormy height, 
 The child of diverse suns and climes. 
 Long flourished until after times. 
 
 To fill the Western world with light. 
 
 And should we. marvel that there grew 
 Estrangement, when, as thy sons increased. 
 
 In strength, seeing the new light in the 
 East, 
 They forsook the old world for the new.' 
 
 That they who from out the storied past. 
 Held converse with thv mighty dead. 
 Should doubt lest that freedom gather- 
 ing head, 
 
 Might end in gloomy death at last. 
 
 Lest Independence should disperse 
 In every wandering breeze that blows. 
 Or, wasting in a dull repose, 
 
 Transform the blessing to a curse. 
 
 Or, Ambition struggling over-bold. 
 Scorning the bounds of space and time. 
 Should palter with a graver crime, 
 
 Moved by the narrow lust of gold, 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 85 
 
 Or Faction, gathering force, should breed 
 *Mong diverse peoples, manners strange. 
 And blown by every wind of change. 
 
 Discord, and so sap its fountain-head. 
 
 Lo ! all we have worthy to be prized 
 Thou hast taught us: all we drew from thee. 
 The strong ambition to be free 
 
 Thou hast not hated or despised. 
 
 And if, perchance, some hidden spark 
 Of grosser matter burst in flame, 
 Be not too eager then to blame] 
 
 Us yet like babes within the dark. 
 
 But with a hope that reaches high, 
 And anchors in a living trust. 
 That he who drew us from the dust 
 
 Will see something too noble to let die. 
 
 Here knowledge through the golden hours 
 Shall build new empires loftier still, 
 "Broad-based upon the people's will" — 
 
 The federation of the powers ; 
 
 Till all the battle-flags are furled. 
 And every cannon blast shall cease, 
 And the sun of universal Peace 
 
 Rise on a free and warless world ! 
 
86 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 ON HIS NINETIETH BIRTHDAY ANNIVER- 
 SARY, JULY 17, 1911. 
 
 Pilgrim of time ! his children's children greet 
 To-day the hale patriarch of ninety years, 
 Whose iron frame majestic yet appears, 
 Like the broad oak, while memory holds its seat 
 Undimmed — a life full-rounded and complete. 
 
 And we, the children of a later time. 
 Will hear him recall the year of meteors, 
 The great eclipse, or long and turbulent wars, 
 
 Ere ripe invention yet had reached its prime ! 
 With his birth the great Napoleon passed from 
 men; 
 In him the warrior's spirit lived again 
 With loftier courage and faith sublime, 
 And seasoned counsels, such as are spared too few, 
 To pilot us from the old century to tne new I 
 
 ^^••^^^ <1|*^L^ 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 87 
 
 Centennial ©be. 
 
 Written for the Celebration of the One Hun- 
 dredth Anniversary of the Founding of 
 Winchester, O., Held Sept. 1, 2 «& 3, 1915. 
 
 I. 
 
 How shall we honor them — the pioneers. 
 
 Who gave their lives that freedom might not die 
 Whose deeds shall be through future years 
 
 A bright and pleasing memory 
 Of all the ancient glory time has wrought? 
 By votive tablet and memorial stone. 
 And in the historic page 
 That tells to every age 
 Their acts shall they be known. 
 Who held the future in their living thought : 
 
 Who caught the flying hand of time, 
 And made it work with fate and heroic destiny 
 sublime ! 
 
 II. 
 
 How shall we honor them? Let it be 
 With sound of harp and drum and minstrelsy. 
 
 Let gun and cannon loud proclaim. 
 And all the hills reverberate their fame — 
 They the bold of heart and true, 
 The builders of the old times and the new : 
 
88 FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 The master-builders of the State, 
 
 Who carved from out the storied past, 
 A structure not obscurely great. 
 
 And something diviner than the last ; 
 Until all the people see 
 In the West the new-risen star of Liberty ! 
 They left their homes to make for us 
 New dwellings in the wilderness : 
 They braved all dangers, scorned no toil. 
 They cleared the waste and tilled the soil. 
 Built towns and cities where before 
 Only the wild thorn and thicket grew, 
 A valiant band, though few. 
 Though wild beasts howled about their door. 
 Dark faces glared at them in the street. 
 They worked amid the dust and heat 
 Until the rough artist-sketch of vast design 
 Arose full-orbed, complete, 
 Stone on stone and line by line. 
 Mingled with many a gorgeous hue divine — 
 A noble structure, wisely planned 
 To be the bulwark of the land, 
 The keystone of the rising State. 
 They with heroic hearts and bold, 
 Sought not honor, fame or gold. 
 But that the all-judging Power that rules above 
 
 Might well their faith and work approve. 
 Let us honor them with loyal heart andmin d, 
 Who wrought far more than they designed. 
 As the wisest, best and bravest of mankind. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 89 
 
 III. 
 
 How shall we honor them ? The fruitful vale 
 Filled with the electric thrill 
 Of life repeats their tale — 
 The fields new-tilled for larger gain, 
 The wheels of commerce never still, 
 That move responsive to a people's will, 
 The busy towns and villages that rise 
 Under more refulgent skies, 
 Proclaims their labor was not in vain. 
 The south wind knows their story — 
 The lowly flower of the wilderness repeats their 
 
 glory ; 
 Shall we be mute, nor with our mortal voice pro- 
 claim 
 The deathless honor of their name? 
 Let such honor be decreed as once was given him 
 The noblest Roman of his age, 
 A splendor time can never dim, 
 Who gave his life up to the rabble-rage, 
 Rather than betray his plighted faith ; 
 A warrior-spirit strong in death. 
 So let our great Founder be 
 Held sacred in our memory, 
 Of all that lived among the bravest and the best — 
 Herald of the new age and Regulus of the West. 
 
 IV. 
 How shall we honor the bold pioneers. 
 Who claim a place among their peers 
 Greater than titles, wealth or biith? 
 
so FOEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NA ERA TIVE 
 
 They are the real lords and princes of the earth, 
 
 Who through hard laborious days, 
 Have wrought such works as surpass mere human 
 praise. 
 They were not born to die. 
 But claim a higher immortality, 
 Though their names are but infrequent on the 
 
 tongues of men, 
 Who in a future age shall live again. 
 Let us honor them for the gift they brought us, 
 Remembering the lesson they have taught us. 
 They left their work to raw and unfledged hands : 
 But faith shall unite with iron bands 
 True hearts unto the master m.ind. 
 To complete the work that they designed — 
 For they are not the first builders, nor we the last • 
 Let us build on the foundation they have planned 
 A structure that shall long endure, 
 
 And amid the storm of the centuries stand 
 Firm and massive, strong and pure, 
 
 A light on the sea and land. 
 Not like those castles of old Romance, 
 But some work of noble note that shall yet ad- 
 vance 
 Our aim above the sordid past : 
 Build it for time and eternity. 
 In faith and wisdom, let it be 
 Consecrated by many prayers and tears. 
 And crowned with the full honors of the years. 
 
 22nd July, 1915. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 91 
 
 JWontauk Jlribge. 
 
 'Tis twenty years since last I stood 
 
 On the bridge above the mill, 
 And watched the sun pierce through the wood 
 
 And mount the distant hill. 
 
 How often when the early dawn 
 
 Touched all the fields with fire, 
 I've viewed across the level lawn 
 
 The city's topmost spire ! 
 
 Then thou wert in thy early prime, 
 
 Thy timbers then were new, 
 Ere yet the cruel hand of time 
 
 With moth had pierced them through. 
 
 How often in the twilight still 
 
 I sat upon thy bank, 
 While sloping o'er the western hill. 
 
 The evening planet sank. 
 
 How slept the sunlight on thy brim : 
 
 How light the bubble broke, 
 When softly fell into thy rim 
 
 1 he acorn from the oak ! 
 
 The old town-clock still marks the hour : 
 
 Its chimes again I hear ; 
 Yet hold they a more gloomy power. 
 
 With notes less loud and clear: 
 
92 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 And seem they to have less of sense 
 
 And music when they play, 
 Since last I heard them slow announce 
 
 The dawn of Easter day. 
 
 How many moons have shone since then ! 
 
 How many suns have set ; 
 What toils have vexed the race of men, 
 
 But thou art flowing yet ! 
 
 As calm and peaceful as the flag 
 That slipped thy bank, since first 
 
 From leafy grove and mountain-crag 
 Thy infant torrent burst. 
 
 O gently bear thy navies down 
 
 Until they reach the sea; 
 Past hill and spire, past grove and town. 
 
 Would I might go with thee. 
 
 As tranquil as the summer wind 
 
 That lulls the infant's breast, 
 So should thy memories lie enshrined. 
 
 So softly sink to rest. 
 
 How many years have passed away 
 
 Since when my youth began ! 
 And I have grown by night and day, 
 
 A sadder, wiser man. 
 
 O well doth roving memory love 
 
 The songs that once it sung, 
 Though like a ghost they speak and move : 
 
 But in an alien tongue. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 93 
 
 O surely breathed diviner air 
 
 The scenes that once I knew, 
 When Lucy Myers Hved, as fair 
 
 A flower as ever grew. 
 
 Can it be twenty years ago ? 
 Or memory serves me wrong — 
 
 time that dost perplex me so, 
 And I have lived too long ! 
 
 1 stood upon this self-same bridge. 
 
 When, filled with vague alarms, 
 She trembled on the torrent's edge, 
 I clasped her in my arms. 
 
 It was upon a summer day 
 
 As fair and bright as this : 
 I gently chased her fears away 
 
 And gave a parting kiss. 
 
 And how she looked in mild surprise, 
 
 Half laughing, half in tears. 
 As kindled in her look and eyes 
 
 The hope of future years. 
 
 Even now, in dreams time can not quench 
 
 I think I see her stand 
 On the half- mouldered rail, a bunch 
 
 Of violets in her hand. 
 
 Two months since we were pledged to wed. 
 
 And I should claim my bride 
 Before the earliest daisies spread 
 
 On the bleak mountain-side. 
 
94 FORMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Before the early snow-crop came, 
 
 The leaf put forth its bud, 
 A sickness withered all her frame, 
 
 And laid her 'neath the sod. 
 
 A fever smote each age and sex — 
 
 Like a spectre at the door, 
 It raged, and when it ceased to vex. 
 
 My Lucy was no more. 
 
 O cruel, cruel was the fate. 
 
 Which bade the lovers part : 
 More cruel Death with bitter hate 
 
 To wound so kind a heart. 
 
 O sad was all the day to me. 
 
 But sadder was the night ; 
 As I watched the ships move out to sea 
 
 Amid the fading light. 
 
 sad to me both night and day 
 That lengthened my despair ; 
 
 More sad she had passed so far away 
 She could not hear my prayer. 
 
 A raging tempest shook my heart. 
 
 The fire burned in my brain ; 
 The devil unrest cried out, ''depart. 
 
 And ease thee of thy pain." 
 
 'Twas Easter morn, and ere the light. 
 Rose o'er the dappled heath, 
 
 1 quietly stole away by night — 
 
 I prayed and longed for death. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 95 
 
 Though by hard toil I won success 
 
 Beyond the most of men : 
 Yet fortune's fairest gifts seem les^ 
 
 Than what they might have been. 
 
 As one who treads a barren shore, 
 
 And fancies that he hears 
 Above the wave and tempest's roar, 
 
 The clash of unseen spheres ; 
 
 And knowing not whether it be a voice, 
 
 Or music of the wind, 
 Feels something doubtful move his choice 
 
 And fix his wavering mind ; 
 
 A longing vague returned to view 
 
 The scenes of youth — I came, 
 To find, dark heath and withered yew, 
 
 The same, but not the same. 
 
 Here where the vag^rant miller's son. 
 
 With merry laugh and song, 
 Upon this railing would sit down 
 
 And whistle all day long — 
 
 The wheels are silent that went round. 
 
 The voice, once loud, is still : 
 A long deep calm without" a sound 
 
 Now broods o'er stream and mill. 
 
 The dry moss clings about the roots 
 
 Where once I loved to climb. 
 And other flowers and other fruits 
 
 Bears the mellow tree of time. 
 
£6 FORMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 A rising vapor chokes the stream, 
 The lengthening shadows creep 
 
 Athwart the land, as from a dream, 
 I wake from out my sleep ! 
 
 Old bridge and stream, if still should live 
 That name, I fain would raise 
 
 To thee a lay which might revive 
 Thy fame of earlier days. 
 
 And though I strike an alien key. 
 
 And a discordant note. 
 Like the snow-plumaged bird whose strain 
 
 Bursts from its dying throat : 
 
 I feel 'tis well I had a hope 
 
 To pledge thee in a song, 
 For, fresh from o'er the hill a troop 
 
 Of merry children throng, 
 
 Whose laughter echoes through the vale. 
 
 And fills the air with sound ; 
 So why prolong a mournful tale 
 
 With gladness all around. 
 
 May age half of thy glory save. 
 And crown thy years with joy. 
 And lightly move across thy wave 
 The fisher's painted buoy ; 
 
 Till time shall feather every edge, 
 And hide thy frame from view : 
 
 Then once again, to Montauk Bridge, 
 A long and last adieu ! 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 97 
 
 Yarley Park was fair to see — 
 
 Its soft green meadows sloping down, 
 And rounded in full symmetry. 
 That overlooked the neighboring town. 
 
 1 well remember how it shone 
 
 In summer days when leaves were new, 
 Its close-cropt walks and belted zone 
 Like fairy woodland steeped in dew ! 
 
 I fancy yet I see the Squire ; 
 
 His genial smile, his ambling gait. 
 His ruddy face that shone like fire, 
 
 Perplexed with deep affairs of state. 
 The sentence of the village law 
 
 He uttered with a pompous sound. 
 With many a wise and learned saw. 
 
 And gossip of the country round. 
 
 O glorious wealth of summer days ! 
 
 When we fished with minnows in the stream. 
 And saw life's star-crowned summits blaze. 
 
 Linked sweet within a golden dream. 
 We felt the fire of friendship burn, 
 
 And lighter pleasures turned to scorn, 
 As feats of strength and skill in turn 
 
 Filled the full moments night and morn. 
 
98 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 tranquil days of sweet content ! 
 Again the glowing memories rise 
 
 Of youth in calm enjoyment spent, 
 A cloudless sphere of happy skies ; 
 
 Before the sound of doubtful fame 
 Had lured my devious step to climb 
 
 More arduous paths, and carve a name 
 Upon the stony verge of time. 
 
 Squire Yarley had a daughter fair ; 
 
 An only child, whose matchless grace. 
 And soft blue eyes and golden hair. 
 
 That gently swept an angel face. 
 Made friendship and youth join in sweet strife 
 
 And truth poise in many a subtle glance^- 
 And so she wove about her life 
 
 A fairy-land of sweet romance. 
 
 'Twas then I felt the pangs of love — 
 
 I know not why, yet e'en then there crept 
 A fear lest some evil power remove 
 
 My idol, though at my fears I wept. 
 Time held those fleeting moments fast, 
 
 And ran them into golden hours : 
 Love breathed upon us as he passed 
 
 A rainbow arch of gems and flowers. 
 
 How gaily did the seasons pass ! 
 We sat among the whispering leaves, 
 
 1 plucked the daisies from the grass 
 Beneath her casement's dewy eves : 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 99 
 
 Sometimes we climbed the rugged hill, 
 Or loitered by the peaceful brook, 
 
 Or watched the wheels of the busy mill. 
 Dozing and dreaming o'er game and book. 
 
 And then it chanced, by evil fate, 
 
 The Squire departed, none knew where — 
 Closed fast the shutters, barred the gate. 
 
 Which made the neighbors blink and stare. 
 He left the old armorial hall. 
 
 And Agnes met me at the door : 
 She sobbed and sighed, "O this ends all, 
 
 And I shall see your face no more!" 
 
 Few words she uttered, yet entranced 
 
 I hung upon her closing speech : 
 Above the fluttering fireflies danced, 
 
 We softly whispered each to each. 
 The evening planet glistened bright. 
 
 Our souls rushed together with our lips : 
 A cloud obscured the orb of light, 
 
 And Hesper sank in a long eclipse. 
 
 The Squire his ancient home had leased 
 
 To a younger brother, dull and slow ; 
 A plodding farmer, whose debts increased 
 
 By reckless shifts, forced him to go, 
 Leaving as careless tenants in his place. 
 
 Who harried all the country-side, 
 And brought disaster to his race, 
 
 With havoc and ruin far and wide. 
 
ICO FORMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Years passed : the park sank to decay, 
 
 His hungry tenants vexed the land ; 
 The fences fallen half away, 
 
 Left gaps for many a roving band, 
 Who took part of the summer's crop, 
 
 And wasted half the rest that grew — 
 Such deeds as made the neighbors stop 
 
 And wonder if Squire Yarley knew. 
 
 I sighed to think how all was changed. 
 
 Through tracts where once my feet had 
 traced 
 Their earliest steps, wild cattle ranged, 
 
 Given up to ravage and to waste ; 
 And felt how Agnes well might mourn 
 
 The cruel hand of man and rude. 
 If she by some chance should return 
 
 And view its sad decrepitude. 
 
 I found the kinsman who had wrought 
 
 Disaster to the Yarley name. 
 And after some parleying words, I bought 
 
 The ancient home — I would reclaim 
 Its former grandeur, make my own. 
 
 Repair the waste of park and hall — 
 The future should for the past atone. 
 
 And triumph crown its recent fall. 
 
 A softer fragrance breathed the flowers, 
 The grain in straighter furrows glowed ; 
 
 And, ripening 'neath the summer showers, 
 The fields a fruitful harvest showed. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 101 
 
 The fences mended, I repaired 
 Each beam and rafter, arch and stone, 
 
 And where the frightful crevice glared. 
 All like a fairy palace shone. 
 
 I sighed, "If Agnes were but here. 
 
 To share with me my lone delight. 
 Her presence would make summer all the year 
 
 And turn to day the darkest night ; " 
 For yet there echoed through my brain 
 
 The shadow of a vague regret : 
 For me the garden bloomed in vain. 
 
 For me the field was fallow yet. 
 
 Thus musing long I paced the hall. 
 
 Where ghosts of faded memories moved 
 Among the old relics, and, over all. 
 
 The shadowy form of her I loved. 
 Oppressed I rushed into the air, 
 
 I walked till near a leafy wood, 
 I came to a crowd at the country fair, 
 
 And soon in the merry throng I stood. 
 
 I passed a group of laughing girls. 
 
 Who gaily chattered long and loud, 
 And one divinely shook her curls. 
 
 Who seemed the center of the crowd ; 
 With Agnes I stood face to face, 
 
 I said what can not be expressed, 
 The silent tear stole in its place. 
 
 Again to rob my heart of rest. 
 
102 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRA TIVE 
 
 I wooed and won again my love ; 
 
 Her father, she said, had travelled South, 
 In quest of health, torced to remove 
 
 For fear of fever and the drouth. 
 I w ooed and won my love again. 
 
 And in a month — for kinder fate 
 Sent brighter sunshine after rain — 
 
 I took her to her father's gate. 
 
 I pointed out with glowing pride, 
 As to her ancient home I drew. 
 
 The ample arch and gateway wide ; 
 The lordly oak, the stately yew. 
 
 In silence : I almost feared to speak 
 . Of all I thought and longed to say, 
 
 Amazed she viewed, then thus did break 
 The charm that sealed our wedding day : 
 
 "This is my father's house I see. 
 
 How high its lofty turrets shine 
 From gilded vane and balcony, 
 
 that the place again were mine !" 
 **No fairer sight than Yarley Park," 
 
 1 said, "in all the land is seen ; 
 And I am lord of Yarley Park, 
 
 And you shall be again its queen 1" 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 103 
 
 In a high and lonely castle 
 
 Overlooking land and sea, 
 Lived the proud old Earl of Radcliffe, 
 
 Bold he was of heart and free. 
 
 He had but one only daughter, 
 
 Many lovers came to sue : 
 Came at last a noble stranger, 
 
 Proud Sir Henry Vane to woo. 
 
 Not in vain Sir Henry's courtship 
 Stormed the fortress of her heart, 
 
 Yet her cruel father's favor 
 Could not win with all his art. 
 
 For among the knight's ancestors. 
 One there was, a robber bold. 
 
 Who the second Earl of Radcliffe 
 Long confined within his hold. 
 
 Oft with wrath did he pursue him : 
 Fled his foe before his face ; 
 
 Years passed but to make stronger 
 All the hatred of his race. 
 
 Twice the knight essayed the father. 
 Twice, in turn, the father spurned ; 
 
 But the third time the earl grew angry, 
 And his words with fury burned. 
 
164 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 "Know ycu not," he said, *'Sir Henry, 
 Thine and mine are deathless foes ? 
 
 Shall my blood be mixed with aliens : 
 Shall the lily wed the rose ? 
 
 Thou art of a band of robbers ; 
 
 Thou art of a race abhorred : 
 Never, while the sea holds water, 
 
 Shalt thou sit as Radcliffe's lord l" 
 
 Sad his last words to Matilda ; 
 
 As he left the maiden's door, 
 He could only sob and mutter : 
 
 "We must part to meet no more !" 
 
 Years passed, till one day a beggar 
 Knocked upon the palace gate. 
 
 Said to the maiden as she opened : 
 "Pity me my forlorn state!" 
 
 Loud arose the father's fury. 
 
 Rolling like an angry tide ; 
 But the daughter stemmed the torrent. 
 
 And with meekness thus replied : 
 
 "I have little gold or silver, 
 
 All I have I freely give : 
 I have but a chain of jewels, 
 
 Take them, and rejoice and live." 
 
 She unclasped her golden necklace, 
 
 Flung it at the beggar's feet. 
 "Never saw I yet such jewels," 
 
 Said he, "or a maid more sweet/' 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 105 
 
 But they both were lost in wonder 
 
 When he tore off his disguise, 
 For the maiden's former lover 
 
 Stood before the father's eyes. 
 
 Mutual fear and hate commingled 
 Sprang for an instant 'twixt the twain. 
 
 Swift arose the father's anger, 
 But as quickly sank again. 
 
 And the Knight spake forth more kindly, 
 
 And the Earl forgot his wrath. 
 "Once," he said, **I would have spurned you 
 
 Like a viper in my path. 
 
 Now old feuds shall be forgotten. 
 Mutual love joia heart and hand ; 
 
 Thou shalt be the heir of Radcliffe, 
 Thou shalt share my house and land." 
 
 Then he said unto his daughter 
 As he viewed her radiant charms : 
 
 *' 'Tis the joy of Christian duty 
 That the pride of wrath disarms. 
 
 Fill again the flowing goblet. 
 Let the wedding-feast be spread : 
 
 More than kinsman, friend or stranger, 
 More than man and maiden wed. 
 
 Though thou'rt mistress of large acres, 
 
 Greater than my earldom wide 
 Is the golden law of kindness : 
 
 Thou art worthy to be bride !" 
 
1C6 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVE 
 
 ilrtftur anb l^elen. 
 
 Two children in one village born and bred, 
 Arthur and Helen, like two stately palms 
 That ripen side by side near the same brook, 
 Shared their mutual joys and sorrows, and the 
 
 twain did go 
 Together linked in sweet companionship. 
 Until the archer, Cupid, fixed his glittering shaft 
 In the heart of each, and smote the mighty Harp 
 Of Love, that echoed with their mutual vows. 
 
 Soon aft3r did a sudden alienation rise 
 Between them, which grew with the lapse of time. 
 Whether like a cloud between two stellar lights. 
 When rival planets sink obscured— a lover's 
 
 quarrel. 
 That grows from mutual confidence betrayed. 
 Or other thoughts that intruded on love's drea m ; 
 In him ambition, in her mere vanity : 
 She weaving a tissu id web of her light fancies, 
 And he a golden palace of his hopes ; 
 Or, whether love, forgetting his earlier craft. 
 Had with his own likeness strange unlikeness 
 
 joined. 
 Marring the similitude of equal states. 
 Mixing bitter with the sweet, matching gain with 
 
 loss — 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 107 
 
 I know not, but yet it was something which might 
 
 Not cancel love's peculiar difference. 
 
 *' 'Tis light as a feather's weight," said Arthur, as 
 
 he smiled 
 Amid his tears, and hoped all would yet be well. 
 For not by outward sign or look had dislike as yet 
 Grown to strong hate or loathing, but only an es- 
 trangement 
 That tempered the first lightning-heats of love. 
 But, ere time could heal the grievous wound it 
 
 made. 
 It chanced a new project claimed Arthur's mind 
 Promising larger returns even than love's empery, 
 To search for gold among Australian fields. 
 And, speedily his plans were all complete. 
 But before he started he sought Helen out, 
 To bid a long farewell. *'It is well said," 
 He murmured to himself as he left her home, 
 "Woman's vows are writ in water: when I re- 
 turn 
 She may repent," and laughed a cruel laugh. 
 But her younger sister, Inez, ran and threw 
 Her arms about his neck and said, "when you 
 
 return 
 Perhaps you will bring us a nugget from your 
 
 mines," 
 And smiled as doubtful of the issue of the schemCi 
 
 But Arthur sailed upon as fair a day 
 As ever lulled the drowsy winds asleep, 
 
108 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 And, after rounding many a wintry cape, 
 
 A.nd weathering many a rough and stormy gale. 
 
 Touching Africa and numerous islands of the 
 
 South, 
 He anchored at length within the southern sea. 
 There, joining with some bold adventurers, 
 He pushed far inland, where he remained some 
 
 years, 
 And saw his wealth increase from month to 
 
 month, 
 And found success beyond his wildest dreams. 
 
 Now it chanced ere Arthur had been three years 
 
 from home, 
 In> the sickly season, when the moons of August 
 
 shone, 
 And the heat increased, and the earth was parched 
 
 with drouth, 
 And the green foam clung to the stagnant pool. 
 That a fever smote the people of the village. 
 And many fell victim, and Helen was sdzed. 
 And, lingering until late in autumn, died. 
 But after five year's absence, Arthur returned. 
 Not knowing of the changes time had wrought. 
 Thinking all should be as it had been before. 
 Hoping to reconcile all, and make Helen his wife. 
 To repay the old trouble of the past. 
 But ere he touched again on England's shore, 
 A fearful storm had ravaged all the coast. 
 And strown the wreckage thick about the beach. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 109 
 
 And the day broke in gloom, when he came to the 
 
 village, 
 He saw the familiar sights he long had known, 
 Unchanged ; the same yelping dogs ran through 
 
 the streets 
 And fawned upon him : children ran out to wel- 
 come him, 
 Now older and taller ; the aged leaped for joy, 
 And all the air was like a holiday. 
 But when towards Helen's abode he took his way» 
 He increased his pace, it seemed that he must run^ 
 And looked, half expecting to see her at the door. 
 "I wonder if she will know me now," he said, 
 **A sad sea-faring weather-beaten man, 
 Her early lover, more worthy of her love. 
 Won by hard toil, with wealth for absence long ; 
 Though 'tis strange I have not heard from her all 
 
 these years. 
 Yet not so marvelous, seeing how many ships go 
 
 down 
 In a year, and never one returns to shore. 
 Now all my life shall be made of happy days, 
 And all my days be full of happy hours. 
 And this the happiest when I claim my bride." 
 So he leaned upon his staff and peered about. 
 
 Now her sister Inez had made an ivy wreath 
 Twined with white roses, and set it in an oak, 
 And said to Arthur just before he left : 
 "When you have landed, go and get the wreath* 
 And bring it to us, so we may know 
 
no POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 You have safe returned, although it will then be 
 
 withered." 
 And he rememberad the tree. Liphtly he sprang 
 To the topmost bough, took down the wreath 
 Faded and beaten by many winds and rains. 
 And placing it on his arm walked up the path. 
 It seemed her flowers never looked so gay, 
 The tall hollyhocks nodded as he passed, 
 Filling the air with their fragrance, and on every 
 
 side 
 The garden bore the marks of skillful care. 
 So he stopped to pluck some blossoms for his 
 
 wreath. 
 Saying, "Here is the flower that once she loved so 
 
 well. 
 And this the path that she was used to go." 
 But when he reached the house, strange faces 
 
 stared 
 Upon him, and a crowd of children near the door 
 Gazed at him timorously and half afraid. 
 All things within wore an unfamiliar look, 
 Save a picture only which hung upon the wall : 
 'Twas a portrait of Helen in her early youth. 
 The mistress bade him in, was very kind, 
 And soon grew voluble with random talk 
 Of the weather, politics and the prospect of a war. 
 Then of the old tenants of the house ; at last, 
 He falteringly asked the question nearest his 
 
 heart : 
 "And Helen, what became of her?" he said. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 111 
 
 "O, Helen," she answered, "has been dead three 
 
 years." 
 "Dead !" he gasped, "When did she die, and how?" 
 And seemed Hke a man half-crazed with his grief, 
 And wondered at the children in their mirth. 
 But when she told him every circumstance 
 Of her fatal illness, he arose and stood 
 Before her picture until it seemed her face 
 Burned into his brain like fire, and all the past 
 Rolled on him like a dream, and wept to think 
 That youth and beauty knew the place no more. 
 Then he sought her grave in the village burying- 
 
 ground, 
 And gently pressing the moss above her head, 
 He left the wreath, the last token of his love, 
 And vowed to live unwedded till his death. 
 
 Xobe anb ©eatfj. 
 
 Love, wandering through the realms of earth, 
 
 Beneld each place of old renown ; 
 All that was his of former worth 
 
 He viewed ere city rose or town. 
 He lavished half the summer day 
 
 On trifles, sang mid birds and flowers, 
 But felt his ancient strength decay 
 
 Amid the golden-winged hours. 
 
112 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 From tracts no evil foes invade, 
 He glanced at earth then on the skies. 
 
 His early home, and last surveyed 
 The opening gates of Paradise ; 
 
 Life burst upon each rolling tide, 
 I He said : "Within these bowers of peace 
 
 I will erect my empire wide : 
 A kingdom that shall never cease !" 
 
 Loud sang the bird upon the tree. 
 
 The brooks with lighter currents run ; 
 All day its labors plied the bee, 
 
 Where white fields glistened in the sun. 
 Where Love had cast out evil fear. 
 
 The rue for tears dropped dewy balm. 
 And all earth's streams, like crystal clear. 
 
 Lay mirrored in a perfect calm. 
 
 Then came from out a gloomy heath 
 
 A faded spectre wan and pale, 
 "I claim," he said "these spoils for Death, 
 
 Who sorrow in that bitter vale." 
 Said Love : "You but rule the younger race. 
 
 The scepter of a later time ; 
 I view the unchanging face to face, 
 
 Lord of the world's eternal prime I" 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 113 
 
 tlo tfje €arlj> Hark. 
 
 Blithe bell that usherest in the morn ! 
 
 Thou singest of the happy fields, 
 A.nd dost not leave me quite forlorn 
 
 Of all the strength thy music yields. 
 
 Whether perched upon the barren eaves, 
 Thou warblest thy carols loud and high, 
 
 Or, hid among the v^hispering leaves, 
 Utterest a m-ore plaintive melody. 
 
 Dark bats and owls that through the night, 
 Like the vain babblers of the world, 
 
 Croaked doom and fear, with morning light 
 Have all their dusky pinions furled. 
 
 Thou sittest on thy bough alone. 
 
 Ere later birds begin to sing. 
 And wrens and robins dumb as stone. 
 
 Fret at thy earlier caroling. 
 
 Thou art the poet of the sky : 
 We but the lesser bards of earth ; 
 
 Oar songs live for a day and die. 
 Thine with each spring renew their birth. 
 
 Before thy music full and clear 
 The loudest tongues of men are dumb : 
 
 They sing but of the fleeting year. 
 Thou of the happier times to come ! 
 
114 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Dim as the borrowed beams of moon and stars 
 
 To lonely, weary, wandering travellers, 
 
 Is Reason to the soul : and as on high 
 
 Those rolling fires discover but the sky. 
 
 Not light us here; so Reason's glimmering ray 
 
 Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way. 
 
 But guide us upward to abetter day. 
 
 And as those nightly tapers disappear. 
 
 When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere, 
 
 So pale grows Reason at Religion's sight : 
 
 So fades and so dissolves in supernatural light. 
 
 DRYDEN—Religio Laid. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 115 
 
 MORAL REFLECTIONS: 
 
 A Sermon in Verse. 
 
 INVOCATION, 
 
 Thou, God, who rul'st the realms of air. 
 
 In love and mercy keepest earth : 
 In whom are all things foul and fair. 
 
 All impulses of good have birth ; 
 
 That rulest through the countless years, 
 And hold'si the planets in thy palm ; 
 
 Though less of good in me appears, 
 Unsightly in thy sight I am : 
 
 And rulest all in majesty — 
 
 Uphold me by thy powerful hand. 
 May I with spirit glad and free 
 
 Obey the dictates of thy command. 
 
 Let net vague fears my soul perplex 
 
 To pierce the future's mystic veil. 
 Nor doublings of thy goodness vex : 
 
 But strive the more where most I fail. 
 
 And ever on thy strength rely : 
 My weaker will with thine replace; 
 
 Guide me by thine omnipresent eye. 
 Support me by thy sovereign grace. 
 
116 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 I. 
 
 I. 
 
 Jehovah, Lord, wherever lies thy realm, 
 Unseen, unrecognized of mortal eyes : 
 A mansion thou hast built within the skies. 
 
 And truth and justice ruleth at its helm. 
 
 Then didst thou re-create on earth 
 
 The form and likeness of its heavenly seat, 
 Where strength and grace in just proportion 
 meet. 
 
 And harmony from discord derives its birth ; 
 
 And to the whole new laws thou didst dispense, 
 And join all in one equal bond of love : 
 The lower forces ruled by those above — 
 
 One center for a vast circumference 
 
 Whose bounds were set in time : when from thy 
 hand 
 The stars and planets winged their ma jestic race 
 Each sphere diverse thou fixedst in its place, 
 
 And changeless laws its distant orbit spanned. 
 
 Blind dust of chaos then didst thou inspire 
 With light and heat, and moulded like a god ; 
 Thy spirit moved upon the insensate clod, 
 
 And man arose compound of earth and fire. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 117 
 
 II. 
 Strange peoples rose, flourished and passed away ; 
 Thrones, sceptres, kingdoms sank to nothingness 
 Lost in the night of time ; though thou one 
 race didst bless, 
 They torgot thy precepts and despised thy way, 
 
 Until to the winds of heaven thou didst disperse 
 And scatter every vestige of their power ; 
 For what is man in his most triumphant hour, 
 
 But as the king that withered in Shimei's curse ? 
 
 A light in darkness, an expiring flame. 
 
 Who were fain to match his weaker strength 
 
 with thine : 
 His glimmering taper to that light divine. 
 His home with the resplendent palace whence he 
 came. 
 
 We wander darkling through a desert air, 
 Like motes that lie within a beam of light ; 
 Like shadows are we in the abyss of night. 
 
 But thou the substance of all things that are. 
 
 Thou the First Cause— in thee did all begin, 
 In thee shall end all thou diist make appear ; 
 The changeful seasons of the solar year. 
 
 The bounds of Satan and the reign of sin. 
 
 III. 
 
 Man thou didst make, and wilt thou now desert ? 
 No, tho' the heavens fall by thee designed, 
 No jot shall perish of the God-like mind, 
 
 No tittle fail of the eternal heart. 
 
118 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Only by his sin and folly divorced 
 From the creator is the race of man. 
 In his own heart he may behold the eternal plan. 
 
 And read the riddle by the stars rehearsed. 
 
 For since one came from heaven's resplendent 
 throne, 
 Who unto human form joined God-like soul, 
 Man's complex powers united in ore whole. 
 
 Now by his virtues m^y he rise alone. 
 
 Then was he by his sin consumed and dead, 
 Now by this presence is he made alive. 
 Only through the spiritual realm can he survive 
 
 And grace distilled from heaven's fountain-head. 
 
 O glorious purpose, destiny secure, 
 
 Won through the Son of God's atoning blood ! 
 
 Through various channels moves one constant 
 good, 
 In diverse manners and by ways obscure. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Reason, the mystic warder of the brain, 
 
 How shall we trace unto its farther source^ — 
 From what high summits of the soul its course 
 
 Was drawn till lost in fashion's glimmering train. 
 
 Where Science moves above the realm of change, 
 And Intellect supreme holds its sovereign courts 
 The will uncurbed among the baser sort, 
 
 Or in fruitful fields of knowledge taught to range 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 119 
 
 Still less can we impute to thee the fault, 
 Because we can not grasp thy great design ; 
 Not less is man, but thou the more divine 
 
 When between two perplexities we halt. 
 
 The question why thou hast made us as we are, 
 Fixed to the wheel of change to orb about : 
 Crossed and perplexed by many a warping 
 
 doubt, 
 Blind, yet ruled by truth's polar star. 
 
 From some far planet, who can know the power 
 That brought him hither : still less can he dis- 
 cern, 
 When he shall to the elements return. 
 
 What light shall beam upon that closing hour. 
 
 V. 
 
 Shall quibbles save us in the Judgment Day? 
 Man's darkened counsels in that seven-fold 
 
 light- 
 Can reason's voice disperse the gathering night. 
 
 Or philosophy yield its consoling ray ? 
 
 Useless the sermon, vanity the text. 
 
 How shall we sift the truth from falsehood fine ? 
 
 By square and compass, by hook and line 
 We pave our way from this world to the next ! 
 
 From dusty creeds and systems of the past 
 One clear voice sounds and strikes from soul to 
 
 soul : 
 Ever moves nature toward one steadfast goal, 
 
 And Perfection crowns Deformity at last. 
 
120 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Nature and revelation joined with faith, 
 These are the plummets that shall sound our 
 
 fate ; 
 Through these we anchor in the eternal gate : 
 
 Through these withstand the tiery shafts of death. 
 
 Where reason halts faith makes assurance sure. 
 And casts its anchor in diviner trust : 
 The moral reckoning squares with God our dust 
 
 And truth and reason make the way secure. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Sing, muse, that great primeval day, when first 
 The earth, a candent ball, shot from the sun, 
 Its rapid course in even circles spun. 
 
 And space before the fiery orb dispersed ! 
 
 In the ethereal spaces the creator hung 
 The irised heavens — suspended fair. 
 The circling worlds revolve in crystal air. 
 
 As the first morn its rosy mantle flung 
 
 On earth ; next in ordered sequence he set 
 . The satellites, each insphered and bound 
 
 To the central orb, and in their constant round. 
 The law of harmony and order met. 
 
 Celestial light dawned on the darkened sphere. 
 And sun and moon the day and night divide ; 
 The waters in their channeled gulfs subside. 
 
 The seas, the isles, the continents appear. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 121 
 
 The mountains rise among the clouds sublime, 
 And hills and valleys hymn creation's song. 
 Earth laughs for joy, and from the starry throng 
 
 Bursts the first anthem of the birth of time. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Void sprung the earth from chaos, like the glass 
 Blown by the artisan : when all was night, 
 God spoke the world of darkness into light. 
 
 And with a vital principal informed the mass. 
 
 The moral law of Right which animates 
 The smallest atom as the largest stone, 
 Makes the strong empire tremble on its throne 
 
 Before its presence like the Alpine states. 
 
 Through six long cycles ran the various mould 
 Of forms diverse : fish, reptile, beast and bird ; 
 -As each in turn by some inner impulse stirre d. 
 
 Evolved still newer forms from out the old. 
 
 In varying shapes but in ascending scale 
 Runs nature's works, first the inorganic clod. 
 Next the vegetable world with life endued. 
 
 Then living forms o'er the dead world prevail. 
 
 From one primeval source came great and small. 
 The strong and weak through cycles vast to 
 
 range — 
 The breath of life survives all chance and 
 change, 
 The type replenished though the myriads fall. 
 
122 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Earth yields its kind, the rivers and the seas : 
 The green tree blossoms, the ripe grain waits 
 
 the plough— 
 The red fruit hangs upon the clustering bough* 
 
 And the gay insect flutters in the breeze. 
 
 From their mountain springs the emerald rivers 
 ran. 
 
 And waited but the advent of the hour ; 
 
 The barren thistle changed into a flower 
 And blew prophetic ot the race of man. 
 
 Last he made man, and fixed within his brain 
 
 The radius of a vast intelligence ; 
 
 His speech inspired with sacred eloquence, 
 And made him lord of nature's wide domain. 
 
 Man, the last work of the Creator's hand, 
 The crowning hope of heaven's great design — 
 Half beast, half angel, human, yet divine : 
 
 His double office to obey and to; cornmand. 
 
 Thou sittest crowned upon- a pyramid 
 Of darkness, a light in the desert lost : 
 Thou wahderest at night upon a barren coast, 
 
 And askest why by davthe sun is hid. ... 
 
 i :,^. . / IX...' :-,.v; .. ', . 
 
 The center of earth's moral universe, 
 'With f acultiesmore variously supplied : - 
 With conscience, reason, judgment^close allied, 
 Stands man alone,iea^rth's^saviour and its curse. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 123 
 
 For him did Eden's fruits and flowers bloom, 
 His sacred law linked to the throne of God ; 
 With angel woman to share his abode, 
 
 The tempter came, they fell in mutual doom. 
 
 Nor blame the woman, of a more frivolous mind , 
 
 That she by curiosity impelled 
 
 Plucked the fruit and ate ; had she her hand 
 withheld. 
 He had wrought double doom on all mankind. 
 
 Man, created free of will, erred through his pride, 
 Thinking he to whom creation did belong, 
 Was likewise equal lord of right and wrong: 
 
 Forsook his forfeit paradise and died. 
 
 1 he ages did their bitter sin atone — 
 
 Ages of crime and dark idolatries. 
 
 Till one GDd-man man's want of grace supplies, 
 And Justice smiles again upon its throne. 
 
 11. 
 
 Nature, coeval with the birth of time : 
 
 Whether thou art enthroned among the spheres 
 Or walkest through earth's living hemispheres, 
 
 Or sittest on the mountain-top sublime. 
 
 In the low vale, or in our living frame, 
 Primerrnover from the first organic cause : 
 Working through thy^immutable laws 
 
 Earth's destiny, forever changing yet the same ; 
 
124 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Receptacle of the oracles of God ; 
 Instructress of the little race of man : 
 Darkly doth he spell out creation's plan. 
 
 Blindly he gropes without a staff or rod. 
 
 For who can tell the story of the sea ? 
 
 Or who repeat the message of the fire ? 
 
 What strong soul shall unto heaven aspire. 
 And grapple with Jehovah^s prime decree ? 
 
 Weak is our knowledge, Lord, but thou art just, 
 . And in thy works we read immortal love — 
 In the spheres that in their due succession move. 
 In the human race that survives its living dust. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Nature, thou queen of all the wild wood ways ! 
 Spring's earliest roses lie upon thy brow : 
 Thine is the wealth of summer's blossoming 
 bough, 
 
 And thine the splendor of the autumn days. 
 
 Thee blazing suns and mellow moons conspire 
 To clothe with beauty, under vernal skies, 
 Shines through the leafy grove a million eyes. 
 
 And all the air is filled with golden fire. 
 
 First bloomed the crocus, earliest of the year, 
 April brought the early columbine, with May 
 The rose and lily make the gardens gay : 
 
 *Tis June and now the violet is here. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 125 
 
 With windy March the robin's opening trills 
 Ushered the blue-bird, whose melodious tune 
 Preludes those full-voiced choristers of June, 
 
 Whose music soon shall fill the dales and hills. 
 
 Now with the spring the northward-veering sun 
 Renews the earth, the lark exulting sings, 
 And a flutter of innumerable wings 
 
 Announces the late arrivals one by one. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Arise, for lo ! the dawn begins to break. 
 And dapples all the Orient with pold : 
 The sleeping flowers shake off the midnight 
 cold. 
 
 And in the groves the early choirs awake. 
 
 O thou whose lightest hours are filled with pain, 
 Go look upon the beauty of the field, 
 For thee doth earth its fairest flowers yield : 
 
 For thee does God and nature bloom in vain ? 
 
 For thee the fields are clothed in living green : 
 For thee the rushing river leaps for joy ; 
 For thee doth nature an hundred tongues 
 employ, 
 
 An hundred voices, but the self-same scene. 
 
 For thee the wall-flower opens lips of pearl. 
 The ripening fruit expands with vernal blood ; 
 For thee doth the acorn ripen in the bud. 
 
 And the wild rush its slender flag unfurl. 
 
125 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVES 
 
 For thee doth all the rich pageant appear 
 Of flower and blossom, the silver-wind irg rills. 
 The light that dances on a thousand hills : 
 
 The changing seasons and the fruitful year. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Perchance one wandering from a palace-court 
 Steals to the fields to hear from earth and skies 
 Pour on his ears a flood of melodies, 
 
 Of which his ear brought dubious report 
 
 Amid the noisy clamor of the street ; 
 And, looking for some old familiar face, 
 Where fawning courtiers held their accustomed 
 place, 
 
 Expects some late-delayed guest to greet. 
 
 The city clerk, still undivorced from books, 
 Sees dusty ledgers dart from out their shelves. 
 And misty figures rise by tens and twelves, 
 
 From wayside hedge and unfrequented nooks. 
 
 Like one shipwrecked who hails each passing sail. 
 He wonders if the former were a dream ; 
 He feels a secret sadness in the stream, 
 
 And doubtful problems burden every gale ; 
 
 And knows not what strange madness moves his 
 brain, 
 That snatches half the fragrance of the flowers 
 Like a bee he sips the heavy-laden hours. 
 
 And feels half of his vacation spent in vain. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 127 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Here oft a wanderer from Cadmean proves 
 By chance may pause near each famiUar spot, 
 To repeat the lessons, half learned and half 
 forgot, 
 All mingled with the music nature loves 
 
 As grows his reverie from hour to hour. 
 Him arvels that the breezes from the south 
 Baar misery, that earth is vexed with drouth, 
 
 And a bitter wind has withered leaf and flower ; 
 
 And, knowing not the sickness of his s oul. 
 Blames nature for her lack of human heart ; 
 That she who fulfilled a foster-sister's part. 
 
 Can not provide a balm to make him whole. 
 
 The lover from his loved one absent long 
 
 Hears again her voice in the music of the bird, 
 Like some forgotten tune in youth he heard. 
 
 And feels his heart burst into fresher song : 
 
 And, longing for the sight of his adored, 
 Beholds her face in every bush and tree. 
 Till all at last becomes the memory 
 
 Of one by long consuming grief devoured. 
 
 XV. 
 
 He who in the freshnsss of his earlier years 
 Looks out on nature, like a magic glass 
 She seems in which the varying seasons pass 
 
 Like golden motes that memory more endears. 
 
128 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 The sylvan solitude, the rustic bridge, 
 The purple lilac on the velvet lawn, 
 The bursting sunrise deepening into dawn, 
 
 As day moves o'er the faint horizon's edge ; 
 
 The golden suns where dusk and daylight mix. 
 The moon that sleeps divinely on the hills. 
 Steals on his mood and all his fancy fills. 
 
 As of a power he strives in vain to fix 
 
 Within his thought ; the seasons wax and wane : 
 Like gold the colors of the rainbow glow ; 
 The streams with fancied blessings overflow, 
 
 And nature seems mixed with the music in his 
 brain. 
 
 From moon to moon the varying seasons range. 
 And move from node to node in a magic ring : 
 . With joy he breathes the fragrance of the spring 
 In all the sweet vicissitude of change. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 When age has laid his faculties in sleep, 
 He views again each well-remembered scene, 
 Almost forgets that which he once had been, 
 
 And drinks from nature's fountains long and deep. 
 
 Alone he wanders by the silent shore. 
 
 Where he was often used to muse and dream, 
 To find the glory faded from the stream — 
 
 The place that knew him once knows him no more. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE ' 129 
 
 For all is changed, and he himself grows dim 
 With sad misgivings of those happier years ; 
 And little now is left save idle tears, 
 
 And few of all he knew take note of him. 
 
 Sad as the parting lover's whispered word ; 
 Sad as the last faint glimpses of the shore 
 To drowning seamen, of a .face to be seen no 
 more, 
 
 Of a lost strain that shall no more be heard, 
 
 Seem now the faded memories of the past : 
 And with the vanishing colors of the rose, 
 A bitter wind has shaken ere it close 
 
 On time and all the passing years forecast. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 See man the conqueror ! what lofty pride 
 Sits on his brow adorned with civic flowers : 
 The lord of principalities and powers, 
 
 Earth's farthest zones mark out his empire wide. 
 
 From dark Alaska's frozen tracts of snow : 
 From Afric mines to India's burning sands, 
 His navies bear the freight of foreign lands : 
 
 His ships of commerce through all channels flow. 
 
 Behold the hero on the battle-field ! 
 A nation's destiny is in his dreams — 
 To win a world by force or craft he schemes, 
 
 And makes the stony earth its treasure yield. 
 
130 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 From the high capital of lofty thought, 
 He blazons all the page of history 
 With an immortal name that can not die, 
 
 Though pagan kings and sages are forgot. 
 
 The prop and bulwark of the ruined state. 
 He stands, a rosy cloud and pillared fire ; 
 His words the sinking multitudes inspire. 
 
 And a lost cause is as Diana great. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Time carves the world's history in a rain of blood. 
 Myriads against myriads shut the gates of life : 
 Insects and animals wage a relentless strife, 
 
 As they roam o'er land and sea in quest of food ; 
 
 Until all their dark channsls overflow : 
 The only answer to life's riddle is death ; 
 The black bat flies across a withered heath. 
 
 O'er fairest fields hover the vulture and the crow. 
 
 Still man, the crowning glory of the age, 
 Moves onward through each changing equinox, 
 Thunders revenge from out the caverned rocks. 
 
 Surpassing nature in his brutal rage. 
 
 He hurls defiance from the cannon's mouth : 
 O'er hill and valley, from cliff and scar. 
 Ring loud the brazen armaments of war. 
 
 And Mars vexes all the earth east, west and 
 south. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 131 
 
 For he has smit the nations through and through : 
 From coast to coast the smoke of battles rise, 
 And clashing arms have marred each paradise 
 
 From a new Seine and fields of Waterloo. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 How blest is he who through self-sacrifice 
 O'ercometh pride ! his shall be a growing power, 
 And his weak faith increase from less to more , 
 
 As his rapt soul shall commune with the skies. 
 
 Blessed is he who when evils vex his state, 
 Through adverse currents bears a seasoned 
 
 mind ; 
 Who finds in poverty some use designed. 
 
 And grapples with the iron hand of fate. 
 
 More blessed still is he who in the midst of foes, 
 With heroic purpose and faith sublime. 
 Dares all the wrongs and evils of the times, 
 
 Even though ten thousand calumnies oppose. 
 
 O flower of heaven, m^ek Humility ! 
 
 Descend from thy starry throne and bear a 
 light 
 
 To quench the hate, the folly and the spite, 
 And bring thy sister, sweet Simplicity ; 
 
 Girdle the whole earth with thy golden zone, 
 And hasten the happy season when the scorn 
 Of righteousness shall be no more, and Error 
 born 
 
 Of human weakness trample from its throne ! 
 
132 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 III. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The pole of truth to no firm center fixed, 
 Will waver like the mote within the beam : 
 Like the mirage that deceives with a doubtful 
 gleam, 
 
 Is truth with worldly-wisdom intermixed. 
 
 Yet, amid the various perplexities of life, 
 The still small voice that will not be withstood. 
 Keeps whispering : ''Shun the Evil, choose the 
 Good, 
 
 Nor with Conscience wage an unprofitable strife." 
 
 The voice that speaks from out the sacred gloom 
 Ot templed shrines, of fields and shaded groves ; 
 Uafelt, uQseen, yet inssasibly it mo/es 
 
 The soul that vibrates with the notes of doom. 
 
 We trust the Presence that we can not see : 
 A sudden impulse moves upon the mind ; 
 We hear a whisper in the evening wind, 
 
 And with child-faith we upward look to thee. 
 
 Like moths and blind-worms we grapple for the 
 truth ; 
 We know thy justice, that it can not fail, 
 We trust thy mercy, and by faith we sail 
 
 To one clear port beyond the storms of youth. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 133 
 
 XXI. 
 
 One port secure beyond the realm of change, 
 And all the varying seasons of the times : 
 One symphony that mingles diverse chimes 
 
 With the vast harp of wide creation's range ; 
 
 That reaching through the narrow bounds of sense 
 Clothes all the living world with life and light ; 
 Yet whose skilled fingers touch with sovereign 
 might 
 
 The varied key of wide experience, 
 
 Blending all discord into one clear psalm : 
 All blind endeavors, gropings in the dark — 
 The broken lights joined in one central arc, 
 
 And that far voice that tells me all I am; 
 
 All that I am and all I may become 
 Through the long cycles of the changing years. 
 The thought that kindles with the orient spheres 
 
 When all the world of sense is stricken dumb 
 
 Will yet beat out its music in the brain, 
 And quicken the pulses into newer life. 
 When the vast tumult, and fever of the strife 
 
 Shall like forgotten music charm in vain. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 From the dark past there wakes again the ghost 
 Of alien memories of a departed race ; 
 Like a god deposed, who seeks his accustomed 
 place, 
 
 To find that vanished which he valued most. 
 
134 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 The wars and troubled rumors of the past, 
 
 '^hen nations bent beneath the powerful stroke 
 Of adverse arms, is as a voice that spoke 
 
 From out an eternal silence dark and vast. 
 
 Hard labors of a heavy-laden brain. 
 Spirits that fainted and faltered in the mist — 
 In a realm of eternal silence they subsist : 
 
 They rise and into silence fade again, 
 
 Before another race ; they change and pass, 
 And live no more save in vague histories, 
 Or memoirs of some rare philosophies 
 
 That time holds treasured in an urn of brass. 
 
 They toiled and struggled, bent beneath the 
 weight 
 Of all the past, and of the future years : 
 Wasting their strength in idle moans and tears. 
 
 Whose iron key unlocked a golden gate. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Long Freedom struggled, mixing with its blood 
 The manacles of power and ancient wrong ; 
 Then it arose and like a lion strong, 
 
 Shook all the nations who in vain withstood 
 
 The snares and foul corruptions of the age ; 
 Upon its brow it wore the mask of deat?h. 
 Yet strength was in its limbs, and in its breath 
 
 A sword that smote the tyrant in his rage. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 135 
 
 And Art and Science flourished where it stept, 
 Hid in immortal calm, where the twin streams 
 
 outflow 
 Of Peace and Concord : joined to overthrow i 
 
 Their banded foes, until the evil slept 
 
 Of sceptred Anarchy, and in its place 
 Rose love, united with the temperate awe 
 Of justice, and due reverence for law, 
 
 With power to mould a more majestic race. 
 
 Where Freedom sat, linked with the common 
 good : 
 Where Knowledge spread and strengthened 
 
 h^ur by hour. 
 And grew incorporate with human power 
 1 he strength of a divine similitude. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 They kept their faith untrammeled in the earth ; 
 They held through ill report and evil days 
 Hatred of wrong, scorn of the low and base, 
 
 And all that exalted men of noble worth. 
 
 Diffused from state to state, from sire to son : 
 Where Liberty grew and widened with increase 
 Of honor, reaped in times of war and peace, 
 
 As diverse tongues were moulded into one 
 
 To form the likeness of the perfect state ; 
 Where private interest in the public cause 
 Was merged, and many systems checks and laws 
 
 Conjoined beat back the evil foes of fate. 
 
136 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 We lose the ancient faith, for lo, I hear 
 A sound of discord rolling in the wind : 
 The spites and follies of the darker mind, 
 
 The spectral forms of greed, and shapes of fear. 
 
 And Honor walks shorn of his strength, with eyes 
 Downcast, apart from men, and shuns the light 
 As Error, moving on the wings of night, 
 
 Shoots Truth with poisoned arrows as it flies. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 You ^k me why when grieved and sore perplexed 
 By all the grosser evils of the times, 
 I charge the present age with graver crimes 
 
 Than those with which a former race was vexed . 
 
 I hold it truth that man should live exempt 
 From public calumny and private wrong ; 
 Mellowed by time, and with affection strong. 
 
 Willing to forego all fruitless, vain attempt ; 
 
 And, bearing a noble bulwark to the world 
 Of heroic purpose, and well-seasoned mind. 
 In the lists of truth to cope with all mankind. 
 
 And all the shafts by fate and envy hurled. 
 
 Not froward to redress each random score. 
 But choosing rather to suffer than resent 
 A fancied wrong, yet with a fixed intent 
 
 And strength to bear all bravely as before. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 137 
 
 Free heart, free will, poised in an intellect 
 That dares to think and speak its thought aloud, 
 Nor fears the idle babble of the crowd : 
 
 A crowned life of noble self-respect. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 O Muse that harpest on a devious string, 
 *Tis well thou singest in these dreary days 
 When honest self-esteem seems half dispraise. 
 
 And truth itself flies low on bruised wing : 
 
 ^Tis well thou babblest of the ways of men. 
 The sordid aim, the crooked schemes of power, 
 The idle gnats that buzz in fashion's hour, 
 
 The fruitless hope, the labor spent in vain. 
 
 The traitor eye, the false and frozen smile. 
 The serpent tongue blaspheming in the night ; 
 The slander and the venom and the spite : 
 
 The fawning flatterer dropping gulfs of guile. 
 
 The foul infection of an age of gold. 
 The loathesome wish that scorns all nobler gain, 
 The empty phrase that speaks the vacant brain : 
 
 The marts where human lives are bought and 
 sold. 
 
 And, feeling all the freshness of thy prime. 
 And all the ancient glory of the years, 
 Thou claimest still a place among thy peers, 
 
 Though all the world deride the crabbed rhyme. 
 
138 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVE 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 As some worn traveller who, with hope and cour- 
 age spent, 
 Weary returns from his toil at close of day, 
 And, nearing his home, hears his children 
 laugh and play 
 Within, and join in noise and merriment ; 
 
 And takes heart that soon his weary toil shall 
 cease, 
 And, by his own fireside, all his labors past. 
 He shall repose safe from the wintry blast 
 
 That howls without, and eat and sleep in peace — 
 
 So I, my arduous task almost complete. 
 
 Enter at last the temple Beautiful, 
 
 Filled with fair forms surpassing nature's rule, 
 Where pleasant sights and sounds the senses greet. 
 
 And one more tall and stately than the rest, 
 Who seems its guardian spirit, through the 
 
 gloom, 
 Takes my hand in hers and leads from room to 
 room, 
 Where each seems furnished for some honored 
 guest, 
 
 And says : '*Lo ! all are mine and shall be thine. 
 Where thy soul may rest and take its ease," 
 Then pointing out across the glimmering seas. 
 
 Where the day deepened from the horizon's line : 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 139 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 ''See the day breaks ! the dawn is on the height, 
 Its beams are on the earth and on the sea, 
 And the glorious promise of the time to be, 
 
 Transforms the barren earth with morning-light. 
 
 It smites the furrows into golden miles : 
 It lights earth's radiant zones from east to west ; 
 From ocean's depths spring new Islands of the 
 Blest, 
 
 The wintry deep is filled with summer isles. 
 
 And on the gleaming turrets of the morn . 
 Time draws the golden circle of the years, 
 And Faith transformed mixes human prayers 
 and tears, 
 
 And from that radiant mixture Hope is born. 
 
 Firm and majestic sits the form of Good, 
 And Evil, wounded, walks the downward slope. 
 And where Fear waged a fruitless feud with Hope 
 
 Peace reigns, and Universal Brotherhood. 
 
 Where soul joined to soul, and firmer mind with 
 mind, 
 
 In larger streams of life and light shall flow, 
 
 Ere that deep trumpet, prophesying woe, 
 Proclaim the general doom of all mankind. 
 
 xxix. 
 And the one clear Spirit, immutable and free, 
 
 From mortal stain, shall from age to age endure; 
 
 The perfect God-man, more strong and pure : 
 One Name for the nameless, for time eternity . 
 
140 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 Thought linked with subtler thought, and wiser 
 speech with speech 
 Shall banish wrong, and the malignant star 
 Oppression sink in gloom, and, near and far. 
 
 Justice and candor be meted out to each. 
 
 For Justice shall go forth with sovereign arm 
 Redressing wrong, in purer robe arrayed ; 
 Hope shall be recompensed, the wageless 
 laborer paid, 
 
 And a warless world guard all the race from harm. 
 
 Like shadows on a stream, so change and pass 
 All things below, with those who lived and 
 
 wrought : 
 But all that prophet spoke or poet thought, - 
 
 Time shall hold fast within its changing glass. 
 
 The sects riiay fail, but over all survives 
 One fate, one destiny, one hope, one faith ; 
 One Light in darkness. Life regnant over Death, 
 
 And crowning Love that ever works and lives. 
 
 J^l>mn to tfje Creator. 
 
 Jehovah, Lord of Life and Light, 
 Before whose sceptre myriads bow. 
 
 Do not thy humble suppliants slight. 
 But plenteous grace and mercy show : 
 
 Reanimate by power divine. 
 
 Make will and purpose one with Thine. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 141 
 
 Eternal Father, gracious King, 
 Thou more than conqueror and lord ! 
 
 Who Israel's armies forth didst bring, 
 And, girded by thy strength, restored : 
 
 Thy power let all earth's rulers own, 
 
 And in their hearts build thou thy throne. 
 
 God of our fathers' faith and trust, 
 In stern misfortune's darkening hour, 
 
 Remember that we are but dust, 
 And death's dread armory devour — 
 
 Still may thou be the nation's stay. 
 
 Even now, as in our former day. 
 
 God of the Just, before whose face 
 The heathen fled like scattered chaff. 
 
 Their idols toppled from their base. 
 
 While thou didst in the heaven's laugh ; 
 
 They built a tower to reach the skies, 
 
 But see where in the dust it lies ! 
 
 God of the Nations, in whose sight 
 Men are like clouds that pass away : 
 
 Years but as watches of the night, 
 A thousand years as yesterday — 
 
 Through Him who for man's ransom died, 
 
 Forgive our sin, forget our pride ! 
 
142 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 ilIis;cenancous; feonnetss. 
 
 GREECE AND CRETE. 
 
 Greece, art so degenerate in our days, 
 
 The hateful Moslem dares with impious hands 
 
 To touch a furlough of those classic lands. 
 Whose brave heroic deeds the nations praise? 
 
 From whose rich hills flowed the streams of 
 Helicon ; 
 Woild there arise in thae one favored son 
 
 To imitate thy lost Leonidas ; 
 Would but the courage now again return 
 
 Which shone at Plataea and Salamis, 
 The barbarous hordes all Europe soon will spurn 
 
 From her domain would quickly turn and flee. 
 Thy conflict is the cause of Christendom, 
 And at thy triumph half the world should come, 
 
 Would time bring round a new Thermopylae ! 
 
 TIME. 
 
 Tims, like the pendulum of some unseen clock' 
 Which marks its flight unfelt and unobserved: 
 Silent as footsteps that never once have swerved 
 
 From life's undeviating track, the knock 
 Of kindly friend or neighbor at the door, 
 
 Pursues its onward course — we know not where, 
 
 Nor how it steals upon a life of care. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 143 
 
 Then like some light-feathered bird that tries to 
 soar 
 On wings some fowler's shot has dipt in air ; 
 Down drops for a moment the bright fluttering 
 thing, 
 Feeling the weight of feathers it must bear, 
 
 Then upward rises on exultant wing — 
 Thus doth time seem to pause, then to fields un- 
 
 trod 
 It takes its flight, unreckoned but of God. 
 
 IDEALS. 
 
 If human language could find utterance 
 For all that thought conceived, or fancy feigned, 
 What hidden knowledge had the world regained 
 
 Lost in the arid tract of dark mischance ! 
 
 If truth won by hard toil were compassed.at a 
 glance, 
 
 What new Mount Caucases and Ararats 
 
 With airy visions would burst upon the sight : 
 
 What floods of dumb eloquence rolling sphere on 
 sphere, 
 
 Might charm the waiting soul and listening ear, 
 From learning streaming forth in cataracts ! 
 
 Till Error, pierced with thorns, should take its 
 flight 
 To realms beyond the Hyperboreal pole, 
 And all the shoreless gulfs of time would roll 
 
 A perpetual haven, isles of calm delight. 
 
144 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVE 
 
 ON THE TWENTIETH CENTURY. 
 
 See Science move, subverting good and ill ! 
 
 Her key is now the pick lock. "Lo, here is 
 truth !" 
 One cries, another *'there ;" undaunted still, 
 The old problems rise to task the future's skill. 
 
 Though some have seen in the visions of their 
 youth 
 The fragment of a golden prophecy, 
 
 When the strife of party and of sect should 
 cease, 
 
 And the lion and the lamb repose in peace : 
 And to the past restore her withered palms. 
 
 Some bolder spirits, embarked on a rougher sea, 
 Casting off chart and compass, voyage on 
 
 Through treacherous shoals to wider liberty, 
 But drifting idly to the Zone of Calms, 
 
 With folded sails lie waiting for the dawn. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF KING EDWARD VII AND 
 ACCESSION OF GEORGE V. 
 
 He sleeps ! Victoria's son ; last of a race 
 Of sovereigns who held the East and West in awe 
 Yet whose wide realm enthroned in sacred law, 
 Holds firm and strong as the rock-ribbed ocean's 
 base ; 
 Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye : 
 Whose days were tranquil and whose reign was 
 peace. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 145 
 
 And him now in the seventh Edward's place 
 Anointed sovereign, a world joining in sympathy 
 Old England with her thousand ships and belted 
 seas, 
 Tropic and pole, land of the palm and pine. 
 
 Hail king of true Britons in their lordliest days, 
 Fifth George, last heir of the first Edward's war- 
 rior line, 
 Strong inheritor of an old renown. 
 And virtues descending down from sire to son. 
 
 ON A STATUE TO "PEACE," 
 
 Erfxted by George V, in Trafalgar Square, 
 
 London, 1912. 
 
 Three matchless forms the living sculptor wrought 
 
 Who carved the glowing figures in the stone 
 
 Of Mars disarmed. Here Peace reigns alone, 
 By the strong power of one diffusive thought. 
 
 Far mightier than the sceptre and the throne. 
 O Master of the epic lyre, who taught 
 
 All nations, sounding the wild Harp of War, 
 And made English tears for Trojan heroes flow. 
 
 Here shall a greater Ilium arise ! 
 Peace hath her victories : see the conqueror 
 
 Again in the angel of Michael Angelo 
 Engraved in marble, and from its prostrate wings 
 
 Love smiles on Death with sad and weary eyes. 
 Saying, "Behold the new lord of earth and king 
 of kings !" 
 
146 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 ON THE RISE OF THE NEW REPUBLIC OF 
 
 CHINA. 
 
 Another Sun has risen in the East, 
 Vanquishing the Dragon, and Cathay, 
 Kingdom of flowers, a Uly palm that lay 
 
 Caught between thorny briers, has so increased 
 
 In strength, that they who hoped at that full 
 feast 
 To part in three, have fallen from their height 
 Baffled and foiled, and all their projects cast 
 
 As shard and flint before this diviner day : 
 Briton and Teuton and fierce Muscovite, 
 
 With all who braved the savage lion's power. 
 And those barbaric hordes, a name abhorred. 
 Who gave countless thousands to the naked 
 sword : 
 
 They wrought their will — thou hast thy golden 
 hour 
 
 Of triumph, well if it prove not thy last. 
 
 THE UNITED STATES AND MEXICO. 
 
 They who with skilled hands have sought to 
 train 
 The untrained savage, gain more renown 
 Than they who would batter the helpless 
 heathen down. 
 On many a well-fought field and windy plain, 
 Stormed at with shot and shell from tower and 
 town : 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 147 
 
 Though even the subtlest stroke of policy 
 
 Were wasted on the tiger in his den. 
 Our neighbors ? Let them prove it if they be, 
 
 Or that they bear at least the stamp of men ; 
 Or, ere the hard-handed Aztec override 
 His barren empire, spreading far and wide 
 
 The fires of conquest from mountain unto main. 
 Again our cannon thundering at their gates 
 May rouse the fury of the vengeful fates. 
 
 'Twas and Indian brave and strong, 
 Stern through fear, and suffering long, 
 Bold to avenge an ancient wrong. 
 
 Son of a relentless race. 
 
 Quarry of a fiercer chase : 
 
 He with his foe stood face to face. 
 
 Fled the settler — like the wind 
 Pressed the Indian close behind ; 
 Still could they no respite find. 
 
 Long pursuer and pursued, 
 Both by terror unsubdued. 
 Grappled on the mountain road. 
 
 Hand to hand they clinch and clasp. 
 Sinew to sinew, snake and asp, 
 Then the man sprang from his grasp. 
 
148 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVE 
 
 Loud and fierce the warrior spoke : 
 Strons: he stood as a mighty oak, 
 And his voice with passion shook. 
 
 "Gone ! but, white man, where art thou?" 
 Vengeance winged a fatal vow, 
 Could he close upon him now. 
 
 Far away his subtle foe 
 
 Safe had reached the plain below ; 
 
 Soon his story all should know. 
 
 But the Indian in despair 
 Sought again the dusky lair 
 Of the wolf and grizzly bear. 
 
 Soon within the forest's rim 
 Disappeared. Like shadows dim, 
 His curses follow after him. 
 
 %int^ OTiritten in an Stlbum. 
 
 Patience and skill bring all tasks to a close, 
 And under the sharpest thorn there blooms the 
 rose. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 149 
 
 tCfje $aj(j;mg of tfje gear. 
 
 The year is dying, let him die — 
 Why weep for his mortaHty : 
 For, lo ! another draweth nigh. 
 
 With firmer foot and sprightlier tread, 
 He stands beside the monarch's bed. 
 And holds his hands till he is dead. 
 
 The year is passing : let him pass — 
 While marks the sand in the hour-glass 
 His few remaining hours, alas ! 
 
 His breath comes short, his pulse beats slow. 
 What time the wintry tempests blow, 
 And earth is filled with crusted snow. 
 
 His brow is cold, his heart is bare. 
 His brain is filled with brooding care. 
 While his friends mingle praise with prayer. 
 
 His blood is chilled with bitter cold ; 
 
 The monarch year is very old, 
 
 Who once strode forth a warrior bold. 
 
150 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVE 
 
 He saw the first fruits of the spring, 
 The nestling mount on upward wing, 
 The merry children's voices ring. 
 
 He heard the birds at dawn's first flush 
 
 Caroling from tree and bush : 
 
 The redbird, bluebird, robin, thrush. 
 
 He saw the laborer go forth to till 
 The ground, the ripened harvest fill, 
 And felt his heart with rapture thrill. 
 
 He stood mid summer's gorgeous glow. 
 He marked the season's vernal show, 
 And in the hedge the violet blow. 
 
 He saw where reapers went to reap 
 The golden grain, a glittering heap, 
 Safe stored away in granaries deep. 
 
 He stood on the flower-empurpled plains, 
 He watched where peace and plenty reigns, 
 And felt new life within his veins. 
 
 He saw the fruits of Autumn fall, 
 
 The apple ripen on the wall : 
 
 He saw and knew and marked them all. 
 
 He saw the song-bird stricken dumb 
 When chilling frosts of winter come. 
 And hushed the drowsy insect-hum. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 151 
 
 And now he needs must have a staff, 
 
 And silent is his merry laugh, 
 
 As from the barn-floor falls the chaff. 
 
 Now winter's ni^ht-winds chilly blow, 
 With frost and sleet and ice and snow, 
 The cheerful firelights dance and glow. 
 
 He hears the sleigh-bells' merry chime ; 
 They recall to him the happy time 
 When he was young and in his prime. 
 
 But he is- older now by much. 
 Since he must hobble on a crutch ; 
 His limbs feel a rheumatic touch. 
 
 For him the seasons brightly smiled ; 
 To him came Spring, a fairy child, 
 Shone Summer's soft effulgeuce mild. 
 
 For him its fruits did Autumn yield : 
 Winter its icy sceptre wield, 
 Clothing with rime hill-top and field. 
 
 He stood upon the blossoming lawn. 
 From night to night and dawn to dawn. 
 And urged the seasons blithely on. 
 
 He battled with equinoctial gales. 
 He braved solstitial rains and hails : 
 Saw Winter spread its snowy sails. 
 
152 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE, NARRATIVE 
 
 His fingers bore many a signet gem, 
 He wore earth's proudest diadem : 
 But now he hath no need of them. 
 
 Nor needeth he silver, nor yet gold : 
 They can not warm the winter's cold, 
 Nor cheer his heart so gray and old. 
 
 He p22ps in at cheerful Christmas nooks. 
 Sees children with their rosy looks, 
 And trees well-filled with toys and books. 
 
 He watches the children at their games : 
 The youthful swains and sprightly dames. 
 For each a new enjoyment frames. 
 
 But near him stands a spectre dread. 
 And stealthy sounds his muffled tread. 
 He touches him, and he is dead ! 
 
 Let the bell toll for his soul ; 
 
 No kindly hand can make him whole, 
 
 Who now has reached life's farthest goal. 
 
 Requiescat ! Restituimus ! 
 
 Yet we would not he should leave us thus. 
 
 Who came so blithe and glad to us. 
 
 But, behold, another doth appear. 
 
 And while we speed the parting year, 
 
 We welcome the new with mirth and cheer. 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 153 
 
 Softly steps in a youth more lithe, 
 
 A rosy figure bright and blithe, 
 
 Who fears not yet time nor his scythe. 
 
 But he shall be like him— the last 
 
 Who came — that on death's bier is cast : 
 
 The future soon shall join the past ; 
 
 And stealthy Time add one year more. 
 To settle many a random score, 
 And all be as it was before. 
 
 New friends, new neighbors we shall meet : 
 New joys, new sorrows will us greet ; 
 The bitter still be mixed with sweet. 
 
 New toils and new perplexities, 
 
 New pleasures while each moment flies, 
 
 Will come to charm or vex our eyes. 
 
 New joys, new sorrows and new pains. 
 As long as life to us remains. 
 Till each his allotted years attains. 
 
 And each of every tribe and race 
 Must find one common dwelling-place, 
 Soon like the year none see his face. 
 
 For every' kindred, every tongue. 
 The rich, the poor, the old, the young, 
 The funeral dirge at last is sung. 
 
154 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVE 
 
 Vain would he implore some hand to save. 
 
 In vain a tardy respite crave 
 
 From his last resting-place, the grave. 
 
 Who seemed on earth a very god, 
 Shall be no more beneath the sod 
 Than common dust his foot has trod. 
 
 He may have shaped by his decree 
 A nation's life, he holds in fee 
 But little now : none low as he. 
 
 He may have been both wise and great, 
 The living beggar at his gate 
 Would scarcely envy now his state. 
 
 Is then the grave the end of all : 
 When round the tomb the shadows fall. 
 The gloomy hearse, the funeral pall ? 
 
 The light of immortality 
 That kindles in the fading eye, 
 Proclaims man was not made to die. 
 
 Look at the earth with beauty rife, 
 As peace comes quickly after strife : 
 Think not of death, O man, but life. 
 
 See how each season gay doth add 
 New blessings, and no more be sad. 
 Rejoice ! heart of man, be glad ! 
 
AND REFLECTIVE 155 
 
 The fruitful earth still yields her store : 
 We feel not want come near our door ; 
 We scarcely could have asked for more. 
 
 Though darkness at last shall clothe our clay, 
 The spectral form that brings dismay 
 Comes not to frighten us to-day. 
 
 Our lives, though filled with grief and pain. 
 Some blessings hold in ample chain ; 
 For though man die, he lives again. 
 
 Then gaze up at the starry skies. 
 Far as can pierce your feeble eyes. 
 See countless, countless mysteries. 
 
 Behold, each wonder-winged sun 
 Its rapid course again doth run. 
 As certain as when time begun. 
 
 See how each orb without a flaw 
 Its golden satellites doth draw 
 Obedient to perfect law. 
 
 Behold the distant Milky Way ! 
 Unnumbered suns in mazy play. 
 Like glimmering fireflies' bright array. 
 
 See all the blazing worlds that line 
 Far space upheld by power divine. 
 And not a star doth cease to shine. 
 
156 POEMS DESCRIPTIVE. NARRATIVE 
 
 Know thou that the high Power that can 
 Provide for these, much more for man, 
 The higher, though more brief his span. 
 
 Then in the starlight cold and dim, 
 While gazing at heaven's glowing rim, 
 Lift to the Creator prayer and hymn. 
 
 That He whose blessings never cease 
 May them to us each year increase. 
 And keep our hearts in perfect peace. 
 
 [ The End. ] 
 
NOTES BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Anona, p. 1. 
 
 This, the longest poem in the volume, was 
 composed within the shortest period of time for 
 its length of any of the compositions, having been 
 written in something less than a week in the sum- 
 mer of 1897, although some additions and slight 
 changes were subsequently made in the matter. 
 The subject is the gradual unfolding of love in an 
 ideally perfect female figure, surrounded by all 
 the beauty and charms of nature. 
 
 Ddaneira — Mnemosyne, p. 46-56. 
 Perhaps a brief note is required here for the 
 information of those unacquainted with Greek 
 mythology, although no attempt will be made to 
 enter into the details of the myth. Deianeira, 
 daughter of the King of Calydon, was the wife of 
 Heracles or Hercules, whom he won in a contest 
 with Achelous, the River-god. Having been 
 summoned by Eurystheus, for whom he per- 
 formed his notable twelve great labors, to con- 
 duct an expedition against the Achates, he 
 started out accompanied by his wife. After 
 safely crossing three streams, they came to the 
 river Evenus, which was too deep to be easily 
 forded. Hercules swam across, and the centaur, 
 Nessus, half horse, half man, came to the assist- 
 ance of Deianeira, carrying her over on his back. 
 But when, as he drew to shore he started to run 
 off with her, Hercules drew an arrow and shot him 
 
 157 
 
158 NOTES AND INDEX 
 
 inflicting a mortal wound. But before he ex- 
 pired he gave Deianeira his robe, telling her that 
 it possessed- a number of magical properties, one 
 of which was that of restoring lost affections. 
 Hercules in one of his exploits had taken captive 
 a beautiful princess named lole, with whom he 
 had fallen in love before his marriage to Deianeira. 
 His wife, being apprised of his attachment, sent 
 him the gift of the centaur by her messenger. 
 But when Hercules put on the robe, the 
 blood of Nessus, that had been spilt upon it, and 
 which acted like a poison, penetrated his flesh, 
 causing such intense suffering, that he had 
 his funeral pyre erected on Mount (Eta, 
 where he expired, his spirit being borne to a 
 seat among the gods. It is said that Deianeira, 
 when she learned the fate of Hercules, hung her- 
 self in grief. The ethical interpretation which 
 makes Heracles suffer in expiation of his guilt, 
 while wholly outside the story, is not a fanciful 
 invention, as some of these legends are purely 
 allegorical and can be so interpreted. 
 
 Mnemosyne, goddess of Memory and mother of 
 the Muses, also possessed the power of knowing 
 the future. Athena, the presiding deity of the 
 city of Athens, is represented as bearing to her 
 the gift of Zeus, also the choice of the knowledge 
 of past and future events. 
 
 Anima Spiritus, p. 71. 
 
 The theme is the triumph of the spiritual over 
 the materialistic tendencies of the age, more es- 
 pecially the darkly misanthropic philosophy of 
 Omar Khayyam, which will also apply to Moral 
 Reflections. Whether it is literally the Devil, or 
 
NOTES AND INDEX 159 
 
 only a feeling of unrest and dissatisfaction that 
 tempts the inquirer to doubt the utility of know- 
 ledge, or ignore the claims of religion, makes no 
 difference if faith is ultimately victorious. Some- 
 thing like the same aspiration is expressed in the 
 stirring lyric of Goethe, Haste Not, Rest Not, than 
 which no higher note was sounded in the last 
 century. According to the Bhagavad-gita the way 
 to peace is through knowledge and the triumph 
 of the Self over selfishness. Thus, in a larger 
 sense than Lucretius concexwed with all of his atoms 
 
 Tiitt Spirit speaks, to truth's pure light aloue 
 And wisdom yielding: intellectual suns — 
 This form inelt*al)le, this mystic power, 
 JSoul ot our soiil and h>rd of mortal mau. 
 
 Centennial Ode, p. 87. 
 
 The Ode was read at the opening of the Win- 
 chester Centennial, held Sept. 1, 2 and 3, 1915, by 
 Mrs. A, D. Kirk , in a manner which reflected 
 credit on her powers as an elocutionist. Win- 
 chester was founded in 1815 by Gen. Joseph Dar- 
 linton, a native of Virginia, and named for his 
 birth-place. It was the first general pioneer cele- 
 bration in Adams county, and the event was very 
 beautifully and appropriately observed with 
 a large attendance of former residents and visi- 
 tors. Addresses were delivered by Hon. David K. 
 Watson of Columbus, formerly Attorney General 
 of the State, Hon. Chas. C. Kerns and others. At 
 the conclusion of his address Mr. Watson paid 
 tne author the compliment of requesting a printed 
 copy of the Ode, which he said he wished to 
 frame and place in his office, as a reminder of 
 this event. 
 
160 NOTES AND INDEX 
 
 Moral Reflections, p. 115. 
 
 The subject is the gradual development of the 
 moral principle from the beginning of time until 
 its culmination for the physical race of man in 
 the Millennium. The poem, including the invo- 
 cation, comprises thirty divisions of twenty lines 
 each, 600 lines in all. The first part describes 
 the origin of the moral principle in the creation. 
 The second division considers nature, man and 
 the reaction of man on nature. The last 200 
 lines show the increasing prominence of moral 
 influences in the history of the world and their 
 gradual evolution in the individual, with special 
 reference to our national life. This is the third 
 of a trilogy of poems (1903-10) the composition of 
 which occupied seven years each, of which Phocion 
 was first. It is the only long poem in English of 
 this measure to the author's knowledge. 'The 
 nearest approach to it is Dryden's Annus Mirabilis 
 which rhymes in alternate lines. 
 
 The Hymn to the Creator, written in 1904, is in- 
 serted here on account of its natural relation to 
 the subject, the European war also bringing the 
 sentiment expressed in it into special prominence. 
 
 Greece and Crete, p. 142. 
 This with the sonnet on Time, the earliest of 
 the poems in this volume, was written during the 
 Moslem invasion of the island of Crete about the 
 year 1895. 
 
 "Some bolder spirits embarked on a rougher sea, " etc 
 p. 144, 
 Refers to the recent American acquisition of 
 the Philippines, Hawaii and other possessions and 
 
NOTES AND INDEX 161 
 
 foreign settlement in these islands, which is 
 regarded as of doubtful advantage. 
 
 "Another Sun has risen in the East, " p. 146, 
 Contains a reference to the national flag of the 
 new republic of China, which has the em- 
 blematic figure of a rising sun, in the place of the 
 Dragon in the old flag, thus reproducing almost 
 exactly, but, perhaps unintentionally, the classical 
 myth of Apollo subduing Python. Three of the 
 great European powers have long contended for 
 the partition of China, but their ambitions were 
 thwarted at least temporarily, by those who set 
 up a republican form of government. 
 
 The Settlers, p. 147. 
 Describes the escape from the Indians of one of 
 the pioneer settlers of Adams county, which oc- 
 curred near Manchester in the early settlement of 
 the county. 
 
 Lines Written in an Album, p. 148. 
 These lines were written at the request of Dr. 
 O. T. Sproull of West Union, in the album of his 
 young daughter. 
 
 The Passing of the Year, p. 149, 
 Consisted originally of 52 stanzas, one for each 
 week in the year, although several additions were 
 afterwards inserted. It was composed on the ev- 
 ening of December 31, 1897, the subject however, 
 having been one of gradual development in the 
 author's mind, and was published soon after in 
 The Winchester Herald, a weekly newspaper in 
 which appeared many of his earlier poems, includ- 
 ing some of those relating to the Cuban war. 
 
Street Scene Winchester Centennial, 1915. 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 All in a garden fair I sat 12 
 
 Anona lived among the quiet hills 1 
 
 Another Sun has risen in the East 146 
 
 Blithe bell that usherest in the morn 113 
 
 Farewell, farewell, O light of love 61 
 
 Fly with me love, O fly with me 22 
 
 Greece, art so degenerate in these days 142 
 
 He glanced at earth, then on the sky 66 
 
 He sleeps ! Victoria's son, last of a race 144 
 
 How shall we honor them — the pioneers 87 
 
 Humility, thou flower of courtesy! 63 
 
 If human language could find utterance 143 
 
 In a high and lonely castle 103 
 
 In Paradise and Hell, among gods and men 42 
 
 I questioned of the star ot destiny 68 
 
 Jehovah, Lord of Life and Light 140 
 
 Jehovah, Lord, wherever lies thy realm 116 
 
 Little brook that babblest by '43 
 
 Love, wandering through the realms of earth 111 
 
 Mnemosyne, Mother of Memory 55 
 
 My friend was generous with his lachrymose 65 
 
 Old England, great in war and peace ! 83 
 
 O Life, O Light, O sadly-pleasing fear 15 
 
 O Mayflower, fairest flower of all 6 
 
 O Violet, that art as blue 5 
 
 163 
 
164 ^rOTES AND INDEX 
 
 O Yarley Park was fair to see! 97 
 
 Patience and skill bring all tasks to a close 148 
 
 Pilgrim of time ! his children's children greet 86 
 Sadly and sweet sang the minstrel-boy, of 
 
 pleasure ! 28 
 
 See Science move, subverting good and ill 144 
 
 See yon sleek rogue, the mealy-mouthed Pub- 
 lican 62 
 
 Stern Cynic with the darkened brow 68 
 
 The breeze is silent on the lake 44 
 
 The marvels of this universe 66 
 
 The Poet sat on his mountain-height.... 42 
 
 There came a wind, but the Lord was not in 
 
 the wind 69 
 
 "The substance of things hoped for, the 
 
 evidence" 64 
 
 The year is dying, let him die 149 
 
 They who with skilled hands have sought to 
 
 train 146 
 
 Thou art fairer than the rose 37 
 
 Thou, God, who rul'st the realms of air.... 115 
 
 Three matchless forms the living sculptor 
 
 wrought 145 
 
 Time, like the pendulum of some unseen clock 142 
 
 'Tis twenty years since last I stood 91 
 
 'Twas an Indian brave and strong.... 147 
 
 'Twas a pirate who roved the western seas ... 39 
 
 ' Twas evening in the plain of Thessaly 46 
 
 Two children in one village born and bred... 106 
 
 When housemaids bar the shutters fast 40 
 
 When will her absent lover return? 26 
 
 While intent upon a book of curious lore 71 
 
 With lion eye and eagle thought 82