LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 GRACE GRISWOLD 
 
Glass Jl'S^MiiL 
 
 Book. — 
 
 CoRTight}!^ 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 GRACE GRISWOLD 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BILLIE's FIRST LOVE " 
 AND "HIS JAPANESE WIFE" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DUFFIELD & COMPANY 
 
 1910 
 
111" 
 
 Copyright, 1910, by 
 GRACE GRISWOLD 
 
 THE TROW PRESS, NEW YORK 
 
 ©C(.A275894 
 
TO MY MOTHER 
 
 Two pictures, dear, 
 
 Before me here 
 Are smiling on me while I write; 
 
 The same kind face, 
 
 The same sweet grace, 
 The same expression, good and bright. 
 
 In one a crown 
 
 Of wavy brown 
 Adorns a brow unseamed with care. 
 
 That once fair brow 
 
 Is older now 
 And clustered round with soft gray hair. 
 
 Though age may place 
 
 Upon this face 
 Fresh lines, they're lines upon a scroll, 
 
 They can't deface. 
 
 They only trace 
 Some new denotement of the soul. 
 
 A published page. 
 
 The face of age, 
 The record life has written there. 
 
 What youth conceals 
 
 Old age reveals, 
 The story of the soul laid bare. 
 
 High-mindedness 
 
 And kindliness 
 And love are written in this face; 
 
 I could not spare 
 
 A furrow there, 
 Each has a meaning and a grace. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Dedication — To My Mother 5 
 
 Love and the Year 9 
 
 Bridal Song 11 
 
 Love's Empire 13 
 
 The Sleeper 15 
 
 The Shuttle 17 
 
 Separation 19 
 
 NoN Requiescit in Pace 21 
 
 The Vacant House I 23 
 
 The Vacant House II 25 
 
 A Litany ' 27 
 
 Sick-bed Reveries . .29 
 
 Reserves 31 
 
 Song of the Soul 33 
 
 Moods 35 
 
 The Star and the Song 37 
 
 Incarnatus 39 
 
 The Legend of St. Valentine and the Blind Girl . 41 
 
 Life, Joy, Grief 45 
 
 7 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Via Vitae 47 
 
 A Prayer 49 
 
 The Hill-top and the Valley 51 
 
 Readjustment 53 
 
 Constancy 55 
 
 A Gift 57 
 
 Friendship 59 
 
 Phantoms 61 
 
 Margaret 63 
 
 Dorothy 65 
 
 Thanksgiving Day 67 
 
 A Bubble 69 
 
 Champagne Toast 71 
 
 Another Toast 73 
 
 To A Pair of Bridal Slippers 75 
 
 Fairy Song 77 
 
 To A Parrot 79 
 
 The Animals at the Show 81 
 
 Mother Goose Variants 83 
 
 At a Donkey Party 85 
 
 Old Plantation Hymn (Revised) 87 
 
 Who's a Hero? 89 
 
 Christian (?) Science 93 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 OVER the hills with you, dear, 
 Over the hills with you. 
 In the spring of the year, 
 
 When the blossoms appear, 
 When new life is springing in all nature's veins 
 And love-songs are ringing in myriad strains, 
 When earth and the air are all fragrant and mellow 
 And each living thing longs to mate with its fellow, 
 Over the hills with you. 
 
 Over the hills with you, dear. 
 
 Over the hills with you. 
 In the fall of the year, 
 
 When the meadows are sere. 
 When forests flash golden and red in the sun 
 And harvested fields tell of work that is done. 
 When winds sing a requiem over the flowers 
 And mournfully sigh for the lost summer hours. 
 
 Over the hilis with you. 
 
 9 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 Over the hills with you, dear, 
 
 Over the hills with you, 
 All through the year, 
 
 Under green boughs and sere, 
 For what, though time wrinkles your beautiful face. 
 It adds a new charm to your sweet spirit's grace; 
 And my heart thrills afresh as I think of the store 
 That love has laid up for our souls ever more, 
 
 Over the hills with you. 
 
 10 
 
BRIDAL SONG 
 
 THE Sun-God rose from out the sea 
 And shed his glory on the earth; 
 So, Sweet, the whole world smiled to me 
 When from the night our love had birth. 
 
 The Sun-God kissed the frost away 
 And warmed the north wind's wintry strife; 
 So, Sweet, your dear lips stole one day 
 All coldness from my heart and life. 
 
 The sun rose high, his warm embrace 
 Shot life throughout the mellowed earth; 
 So, Sweet, our souls beneath love's grace, 
 Are thrilling with a new life's birth. 
 
 II 
 
LOVE'S EMPIRE 
 
 I WOULD I were the sun, that I might dare 
 To gaze unchecked upon your lovely face, 
 I would I were the breezes of the air 
 That I might fold you in a rapt embrace. 
 
 I would I were the page beneath your look, 
 That so my inmost heart your heart might read. 
 I would I were the thoughts within that book, 
 That to your inmost soul my soul might speed. 
 
 I would I were the draught from yonder spring, 
 Which soon unto your lips will find the way, 
 I would like yonder linnet I might sing 
 And make sweet music for you all the day. 
 
 I envy every little thing, dear heart, 
 Which has upon your wish the slightest call, 
 I would I might the universe impart, 
 Yet be myself to you the all in all. 
 
 Oh, love, I want you with such deep desire, 
 I would my life in yours might through and through 
 Be fused and blended by love's sacred fire, 
 Forever knowing, loving, only you. 
 
 13 
 
THE SLEEPER 
 
 NEAR by his measured breathing tells that sleep 
 Holds now his wearied sense in gentle fold. 
 Ah ! favored sleep, that dearest form to hold, 
 And o'er his soul a cloistered watch to keep. 
 Why may not I upon your vigil creep, 
 
 And all the tenderness which now controlled 
 Lies buried deep within my heart, make bold 
 Upon his rapt unconsciousness to heap? 
 
 I on his lips a simple kiss would press, 
 So light it should not break the slumber spell; 
 
 And stroke his hair with gentle, soft caress, 
 And murmur in his ear a word — ah well ! 
 
 He would awaken. I must then confess. 
 Sweet Sleep, you are a better sentinel. 
 
 15 
 
THE SHUTTLE 
 
 WHEN up from night's dim margin breaks the 
 dawn, 
 With ruddy glow illumes the eastern skies. 
 And through the curtain-chinks peers in mine eyes, 
 Bids sleep with all her counterfeits begone. 
 Exchanging light and life for visions wan. 
 One vision which my yearning spirit tries 
 To hold a little longer ere it dies, 
 
 Dies not, but in my waking thoughts lives on. 
 
 And, ever, through the insistent noisy loom 
 
 Of day's routine, the sweet dream comes and goes, — 
 A shuttle weaving through the dingy gloom 
 
 Of common tasks, a glowing thread of rose. 
 But shall the dream aught but a dream become? 
 
 If not, then what is life to me? God knows. 
 
 17 
 
SEPARATION 
 
 I THOUGHT of late the sun had grown more bright, 
 A new effulgence filled the heavenly blue. 
 The woodland green had caught a rarer hue, 
 And moon and stars more beauteous were by night. 
 All nature seemed to pulsate with delight, 
 
 And even friendly greetings rang more true, 
 But that was when I knew them, dear, with you, 
 Ere your departure cast on all a blight. 
 
 But now the face of nature wears a frown. 
 As when the autumn glow has passed away 
 
 And left the woods all clad in sombre brown. 
 Whilst creaking limbs their withered leaves shake down; 
 
 Now, too, the friendly round is cold and gray, 
 
 As if with you had passed its kindling ray. 
 
 19 
 
NON REQUIESCIT IN PACE 
 
 THERE lies within the region of the heart 
 A spot which may by none save one be found, 
 A sad, sad spot, from all the rest apart, 
 
 Where dead hopes lie entombed, — a burial ground 
 
 For all the past; the sins, the pains and sighs 
 
 And hours that slipped with gladsome speed away. 
 
 Swift bearing with them some forbidden prize. 
 Too sweet, too satisfying, long to stay. 
 
 'Mong many graves that all unheeded lie. 
 With names forgotten in the flight of years. 
 
 Is one by which the soul doth sit and sigh, 
 
 Kept green by many a copious shower of tears. 
 
 Here lies the dear companion of those hours 
 That fled away like winged steeds of old 
 
 Or as the genial Southland's lovely flowers. 
 
 That vanish 'neath the north wind's bitter cold. 
 
 It is the grave of love that lies so green, 
 
 Where, in the wakeful watches of the night, 
 
 Or midday, to all else perhaps serene. 
 The sad soul sits and grieves upon its blight. 
 
 21 
 
THE VACANT HOUSE 
 
 I^VE often pondered on the parable 
 Of him who cast the devil from his soul, 
 Who, finding his retreat unbearable, 
 Returned with seven others far more foul. 
 The house was empty, swept and garnish-ed, 
 So in they rushed for riot all athirst, 
 And of that man the Blessed Savior said, 
 His last estate was far worse than his first. 
 'Tis not enough, to banishment, to doom 
 An occupant that preys upon the life; 
 'Tis not enough to sweep and cleanse the room, 
 It must be filled to keep that house from strife. 
 'Tis little use to cast a devil out. 
 Unless an angel comes to hold the rout. 
 
 23 
 
THE VACANT HOUSE 
 
 II 
 
 THERE is, in its effect upon the mind, 
 But little choice between the thought and deed. 
 And every action, of whatever kind. 
 
 Is but the offspring of a hidden seed. 
 Sometimes, unconsciously, an evil thought. 
 
 In life, whose outward seeming is most fair, 
 Has all unseen its baleful mischief wrought, 
 
 Till by some sudden exigence laid bare. 
 Thus unexpectedly may be revealed, 
 
 Perhaps to one who was not rightly loved, 
 A powerj to which he cannot choose but yield, 
 
 Although by better instincts disapproved. 
 But had an angel come that house to share. 
 No other guest had dared to enter there. 
 
 25 
 
A LITANY 
 
 WHEN the nerves are tingling, burning, 
 When the brain is reehng, turning, 
 When the heart is sick with yearning, 
 
 God have mercy on the soul. 
 
 When, by disappointment maddened. 
 Or by failure deadened, saddened, 
 By no spark of courage gladdened, 
 
 God have mercy on the soul. 
 
 When the struggle seems unending 
 For a prize not worth the spending. 
 Death with life for choice contending, 
 
 God have mercy on the soul. 
 
 When the river darkly teeming 
 Seems to call beneath its gleaming 
 To the sleep which hath no dreaming, 
 
 God have mercy on the soul. 
 
 27 
 
SICK-BED REVERIES 
 
 CLOCK in the dead of night, 
 Sweet on the ear of pain, 
 Telling of hours in flight 
 Never to come again, — 
 
 Cock 'ere the peep of dawn. 
 Herald of coming day. 
 Telling of darkness drawn. 
 Soon now to steal away, — 
 
 Bells on the early air, 
 Calling first thoughts above, 
 TelHng of praise and prayer. 
 Due to the King of Love, — 
 
 Sounds of the city life 
 Wakening one by one. 
 Telling of endless strife. 
 Work that is never done, — 
 
 Sun with a blasting heat, 
 Slums with a pois'nous breath, 
 Telling of fevered feet 
 Treading the road to death, — 
 
 29 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 Sky that is clear and broad, 
 Land of productive soil, 
 Telling of gifts of God 
 Meant for the sons of toil, — 
 
 Darkness on all below 
 Softly descending, 
 Telling of joy and woe 
 Hid in death's blending. 
 
 30 
 
RESERVES 
 
 OWHY are these treasures withheld all about us — 
 The wealth that the ocean will never upheave, 
 The blessings of nature within and without us, 
 We may not reveal and we cannot receive? 
 
 The violet blooms, which no eye shall discover. 
 The vine holds a grape, that will never be pressed. 
 The earth clasps a jewel, no hand shall uncover. 
 The poet's best poem is never expressed. 
 
 The dearest love-story may never be uttered. 
 Because there's so often a bar to the bower, 
 And only by one can that guard be unshuttered 
 And that one is bound or is blind to his power. 
 
 Perhaps for a time some rare blessing may cheer you. 
 An echo of heaven, a song and a thrill. 
 But before you can realize heaven is near you. 
 The blessing has passed and its echoes are still. 
 
 Then why do men starve, with abundance beside them? 
 And why do they shiver, who stand by the fire? 
 And why do they grope, with a beacon to guide them? 
 And why do we grovel, while yet we aspire? 
 
 31 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 Though gifts, which the brain and the heart cannot measure. 
 Are bursting the treasuries in and about us, 
 Such gifts, as to give and receive were but pleasure. 
 Yet the world wags contentedly onward without us. 
 
 And when the rapt soul, in impulsive upheaval. 
 Its untutored message outpours on the world; 
 It may be received in a coolness quite civil, 
 Or may on itself be indignantly hurled. 
 
 Or when, with unauthorized hand, we endeavor. 
 Through purpose or madness to grasp at a prize; 
 The world sets the thief-brand upon us forever, 
 And to the lost station we never may rise. 
 
 And yet there's an instinct in every man living 
 Asserting a right in these treasures of life, 
 A right of receiving, another of giving. 
 The right to attain without rancor or strife. 
 
 And the right to assume that these yearnings within us 
 For blessings we do and do not understand, 
 Must some day and somewhere the privilege win us. 
 To give and receive with an unreserved hand. 
 
 32 
 
SONG OF THE SOUL 
 
 SOMETIMES from deepest caverns of the soul, 
 Above the daily pleasure, pain and strife. 
 That babble on the surface of our life, 
 A voice insistent over all will roll; 
 
 And in the mighty cadence of that sound. 
 
 Up-driven from the hungry void below. 
 Like some outburst of long-imprisoned woe, 
 
 All other clamor is absorbed and drowned: — 
 
 " What, think you that these little joys and thrills,— 
 Pursuit of art, of science, or of fashion, 
 Of work, of ease, of pleasure or of passion. 
 The deep, vast yearning of the spirit fills? 
 
 " Where friendship dies, if not by effort fanned. 
 Where pleasure blanches in satiety. 
 And self-advancement rules society. 
 Where love may seldom be too closely scanned? 
 
 " Think you to find the soul's complete desire, 
 
 Where even rocks may crumble and decay, 
 Where blossoms bloom and wither in a day, 
 Where all may vanish into flood and fire? 
 
 33 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 " Ah, no, think not in earthly paths to find 
 
 Aught but a part, a fraction of the whole, 
 Of that great gift, shall satisfy the soul, 
 When known the end for which it was designed. 
 
 " Ah happy he, whose heart is still ascendant 
 
 Above the joys and sorrows of the hour. 
 Whilst using them as means of greater power 
 For reaching toward the blessing all-transcendent." 
 
 34 
 
MOODS 
 
 WHEN the heart is full of gladness. 
 When it sings for very rapture, 
 Rain and storm and tempest even. 
 In their fury seem rejoicing. 
 Then the melancholy sea-shore 
 And the moaning of the night winds 
 Laugh through all their minor cadence 
 At the very thought of sorrov^. 
 Then the pensive, purple twilight 
 Tempts no retrospective yearning; 
 And the sighing of the fir trees 
 And the soughing of the rushes 
 Tell no mystery of grieving. 
 Then the toiling bell's vibrations 
 Do not waken sad reflections, 
 Nor the chirping of the crickets, 
 Nor the croaking of the marsh-frogs 
 Stir a nameless, restless feeling, 
 Nor the lonesome hoot of night-owl 
 Flood the soul with desolation. 
 
 When the heart is full of gladness. 
 When it sings for very rapture, 
 Nature's darkest shadows brighten 
 And earth palpitates with glory. 
 
 35 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 When the heart has lost its lightness, 
 And the spirit flags and falters, 
 Then the wholesome glow of sunshine 
 Seems a melancholy gilding. 
 Then the carols of the song-birds 
 Jar upon discordant heart-strings, 
 While the azure depths of heaven 
 Mock imprisoned aspiration. 
 Then the torrent, madly dashing 
 From its rocky promontory. 
 Speaks of life in pride of conquest. 
 In the height of glory, stricken. 
 Then is sweet perfume of roses, 
 But the scent of joy departed. 
 
 When the heart has lost its lightness, 
 When the spirit flags and falters, 
 Then the minor strains of nature, 
 Through the soul reverberating. 
 Echo with a sad insistence. 
 
 36 
 
THE STAR AND THE SONG 
 
 A SONG in the air and a star in the heaven, 
 Which now bendeth low a great gift to impart; 
 That great gift was love, and still it is given 
 Where a star lights the soul and a song fills the heart. 
 
 The star guideth upward the thought of the life 
 And the song in the heart meaneth peace and good will; 
 For love cannot live amidst rancor and strife 
 Nor from aught unholy its perfume distill. 
 
 It was deep in the mid-night whilst all the world slept 
 That the holiest love which the earth has e'er known, 
 Amid singing of angels, from heaven down-leapt 
 By the light of a star to a stall from a throne. 
 
 So love that is noble and love that is sure 
 Comes not in the bustle and glare of the world; 
 But only in hearts that are simple and pure 
 Is the Christ-love in all of its beauty unfurled. 
 
 37 
 
INCARNATUS 
 
 AN angel watching o'er the earth 
 Adown the ages from creation 
 And sadly waiting for a pause 
 
 In nation's bitter strife with nation, 
 
 At last beheld the promised time 
 
 When warlike banners all were furled 
 While gentle peace, with olive crowned, 
 
 Walked joyously throughout the world. 
 
 So when the night had fully come, 
 
 Which was to see the Savior's birth, 
 As if the universe scarce breathed. 
 
 Deep stillness fell upon the earth ; 
 
 And shepherds, gazing at the stars, 
 
 Imagined they were drawing nigh 
 
 With swift and noiseless step across 
 
 The midnight velvet of the sky; 
 
 Till all at once they seemed to merge 
 
 And lose their shapes in gushing light, 
 
 And color palpitating on 
 
 The startled bosom of the night. 
 
 39 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 An angel presently emerged 
 
 From out the brightness overhead. 
 The shepherds fell upon the ground 
 
 In fear and trembling, men half dead. 
 
 But soothingly the angel spake 
 
 And told them of the Savior's birth 
 From whom new life and joy should flow 
 
 To all the peoples of the earth. 
 
 Forthwith a host of angels sang 
 
 Of glory unto God most high, 
 
 Of peace, good will toward men, like bells 
 Sweet ringing down the radiant sky. 
 
 But fainter grew the song, until 
 
 It drew up into heaven once more, 
 
 The light had gone. Again the stars 
 
 Were shining as they shone before. 
 
 The shepherds rose and sought the child 
 
 And worshipped him on bended knee; 
 
 No richer gift had they, nor needed, 
 
 Than their sweet faith's entirety. 
 
 They first to hear the Gospel note, 
 
 They first to greet the Advent Lord 
 
 Whose lives through simple duties ran. 
 
 Whose minds no worldly wisdom stored. 
 
 40 
 
THE LEGEND OF ST. VALENTINE AND 
 THE BLIND GIRL 
 
 A FLOOD of moonlight on the city lay, 
 All silent were her light-and-shadowed streets, 
 Save where the watchman paced his quiet round 
 And Meta Sudens' sparkling water rose 
 To fall again with melancholy plash. 
 Fair Rome ! how beautiful beneath the moon 
 Now slept her temples, marts and palaces ! 
 But dark, amidst the whiteness all around, 
 Colossal Nero stood, a mass of bronze — 
 A fearsome symbol of those evil times. 
 There, drunk with blood of saints and still as death. 
 The mighty Flavian Amphitheatre glowered 
 From darkened archways on the bloodstained ring, 
 Its giant statues traversed phantom-like 
 By spectral shadows from the drifting clouds. 
 Until they seemed to shudder and recoil 
 From scenes which men had revelled in that day. 
 A sudden roar from out the lions' den — 
 An oath, a lash, and silence reigned once more. 
 Most dread of all, the prison Mamartine, 
 Where Paul the Apostle once a captive lay. 
 Loomed grim against the sky. 
 
 41 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 There, on this night, 
 When spring's first softness filled the fragrant air, 
 St. Valentine his painful vigil kept. 
 Awaiting eagerly the morn, when he. 
 Through martyr's death, should join the heavenly throng. 
 But hark ! the bolt withdraws, Nerea comes. 
 The jailor's fair blind daughter, bringing fruit 
 And wine and food to Valentine, and begs 
 That he will pardon her delay, as she 
 Was stayed unwillingly. " I dared not come 
 Till all was still. Ah, that I might do more 
 To ease thy pain." 
 
 " Hush, child, 'twill soon be gone." 
 She took the hand he laid upon her head, 
 And, kissing it, placed violets therein. 
 Which she had gathered from the Tiber's bank. 
 A moment on the sad, sweet face he looked, 
 The large eyes, dark and void, the girlish form 
 Just rounding into lovely womanhood, 
 And suddenly, up through his lonely heart 
 A wave of feeling long imprisoned rose 
 And flooded all his being; but, just then, 
 The lamp flared up and shone upon the cross. 
 Impulsively he crushed within his hands 
 The violets she brought, and through the cell 
 There stole a perfume like the breath of spring. 
 She marvelled till he said, " Thus, child, the heart 
 Once broken by the loving hand of God 
 Breathes forth a heavenly fragrance on the world." 
 " I know," replied the girl, *' that sorrow borne 
 With patience brings us happiness at last. 
 When with my playmates I was wont to roam 
 In springtime, through the gardens, woods and fields, 
 
 42 
 
ST. VALENTINE AND THE BLIND GIRL 
 
 I often wondered at their ecstasy, — 
 
 What golden sunshine meant and purple flowers; 
 
 And once, when Fabia bade me see myself 
 
 Repeated in the fountain at our feet, 
 
 I cried, ' For shame to say what cannot be ! * 
 
 But softly then one whispered : ' Hush, she's blind ! * 
 
 And so I knew at last what blindness meant 
 
 And through my heart a bitter sadness crept. 
 
 But thou hast shed the light of heaven there." 
 
 St. Valentine, with thoughtful pity, gazed 
 Upon the sightless girl and said, " My child, 
 I've prayed for thee by night and day; Thou too. 
 If this shall come to pass, must pray for faith. 
 At midnight come again. The viands take, 
 For ' this kind goeth not, except by fast 
 And prayer.* " 
 
 At midnight came the girl again 
 And drew the bolt, but silence reigned within. 
 She feared she knew not what, till listening heard 
 The measured breathing of the praying saint. 
 Thus reassured she waited silently. 
 He heard her not, for he was vision-rapt. 
 And seemed among the throng that followed Christ, 
 When Bartimaeus by the roadside sat. 
 He saw the miracle of healing done. 
 And felt the Savior turn and look on him 
 With love and approbation, and he knew 
 The sweet assurance meant his prayer was heard. 
 Then, conscious of another presence there, 
 He bade her come. 
 
 She knelt, her eyes upturned 
 And bright with tears, while fervently he prayed: 
 
 43 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 " Dear Lord, now graciously send down Thy light 
 
 On this Thy child, that as Thy blessed Truth 
 
 Has banished darkness from her soul, so from 
 
 Her mortal eyes the veil may be withdrawn. 
 
 * As is thy faith, so be it unto thee/ " 
 
 A shudder passed throughout her frame, and then. 
 
 As when the day breaks on a sleeping sea, 
 
 A new strange light suffused her eyes. They sought 
 
 St, Valentine's. The lamp-light flickered out — 
 
 She needed it no more, but wondered why 
 
 She had not heard the human face was like 
 
 The sun and shed a glory round about. 
 
 44 
 
LIFE, JOY, GRIEF 
 
 WHAT is life but what we make it? 
 What is joy unless we take it? 
 Where is grief, when we forsake it? 
 
 Joy is goodness inward shining. 
 Grief, oft' selfishness repining. 
 Life is colored by its lining. 
 
 45 
 
VIA VITAE 
 
 LIFE has cross-ways, 
 Life has by-ways, 
 We ourselves would not select, 
 But these by-ways 
 Lead to high-ways 
 Grander than we dared expect. 
 
 Be they cross-ways, 
 Be they by-ways. 
 
 Or where never man has trod, 
 Cross-ways, by-ways — 
 Make them high-ways. 
 
 Leading onward to your God. 
 
 47 
 
A PRAYER 
 
 OH give me a heart that is pure to its core, 
 And give me an open mind, 
 To receive from nature and life the ore, 
 And yield it again refined. 
 
 Let also the marge of the smelter be 
 As wide as the sun-bound day. 
 
 And love the flame of life in me 
 To melt its dross away. 
 
 49 
 
THE HILL-TOP AND THE VALLEY 
 
 WHY grieve for the hill-top beyond you, 
 When the valley is sweet and serene? 
 Why rail at the weeds growing round you. 
 When flowers are nestled between? 
 
 Tread gently, tread gently, my brother, 
 
 For look you, deep down in the grass. 
 
 Is a blossom that blooms for no other, 
 
 To sweeten your way as you pass. 
 
 51 
 
READJUSTMENT 
 
 "ipiS the harrow of grief and the moisture of tears 
 
 X That will keep the heart mellow and tender, 
 And 'tis often beneath the cold snows of neglect 
 That the fairest of blossoms engender; 
 
 But alas for the heart that persistently clings 
 To the harrow and moisture and cold, 
 
 For, though blossoms may bloom, it is sunshine alone, 
 That can tempt the rich fruit to unfold. 
 
 Then, if you can't have the one thing that you want, 
 There's but one thing to do in that case, 
 
 Just to want what you have^ for God shines over all. 
 If you'll only look up in His face. 
 
 53 
 
CONSTANCY 
 
 AS passing through this world of misconception. 
 Where actions do not always speak the heart, 
 Where confidence is shattered by deception 
 And slander even breaks true friends apart, 
 
 How comforting a friend who is not shaken 
 By what appear backslidings in our lives, 
 Assuming howsoe'er we are mistaken, 
 Within the soul an honest purpose thrives. 
 
 55 
 
A GIFT 
 
 WHAT tribute can I pay to thee, dear friend, 
 Who hast of fortune's gifts so full a share, 
 That were I all my means and wit to spend, 
 The purchase with thine own would ill compare? 
 
 Yet may this bit of handiwork enwrought 
 About with love and care of thee, still meet 
 The welcome that a richer gift had brought, 
 If giver's love can make acceptance sweet. 
 
 57 
 
FRIENDSHIP 
 
 THINK there is no finer name on earth than that of 
 friend, 
 For all relations else in that one term begin and end. 
 
 I 
 
 The father — he is scarce a friend when deaf to childhood's 
 
 call, 
 While husband, wife, alas, are often hardly friends at all; 
 
 And mother-love, the strongest love, is sometimes at the 
 
 core, 
 A tyranny of selfishness, brute instinct, nothing more. 
 
 The bonds of kinship often grow first irksome and then slack 
 And shift their obHgations to the nearest passing hack; 
 
 And sweet-hearts, ah ! with nothing else, the flimsiest sort of 
 
 tie, 
 The closest chums, perhaps, to-day, and strangers by and 
 
 by. 
 
 But there is something firm and fine about the friendly bond. 
 Without it every other state is built on shifting ground; 
 
 59 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 And love itself, without that guide, like Phoebus drives it 
 
 blind 
 And leaves a wreckage in its track of shattered heart and 
 
 mind. 
 
 And yet, as all are human, even friendship may succumb 
 To stress of human weakness when the hours of trial come; 
 
 As Peter once denied his Lord, then wept in bitter shame, 
 And lived to be his friend indeed, a martyr to his name. 
 
 So every friend, whate'er he be, a simple friend, no other, 
 Or still a friend, while bearing name of sweetheart, hus- 
 band, brother, 
 
 Though he may sometime fail to stand as high as once he 
 
 stood, 
 He will not rest till he has tried to make that failure good. 
 
 If underneath, abiding yet, his heart is kind and true. 
 And still he finds sweet friendship's code, " noblesse oblige " 
 in you. 
 
 So friendship thrives, like love, on what each in the other 
 
 finds, 
 The tie of fellow-service is the only tie that binds. 
 
 60 
 
PHANTOMS 
 
 COME on, ye flitting phantoms of the night, 
 That glint and vanish in the moon-lit brain, 
 Like love, enticed by some false beacon light, 
 Recoiling to its hidden realm again. 
 
 Whence come these vague and evanescent forms, 
 That baffle every grasp of searching thought ; 
 As windsv^rept, vap'rous blasts of midnight storms, 
 From void to void through rigging pass uncaught? 
 
 What are these phantoms? Gems of thought unborn, 
 Great inspirations falling half concealed, 
 Which common minds will only heed to scorn. 
 Till genius has their hidden worth revealed. 
 
 6i 
 
MARGARET 
 
 THE monarch in our house 
 Is dimpled o'er with smiles. 
 The sceptre that she wields, 
 
 Her winning little wiles. 
 
 She wears a golden crown, 
 
 Spun fine of baby hair, 
 
 She mounts a higher throne 
 Than any royal chair. 
 
 Her subjects gather round 
 
 And kiss her little hand, 
 
 And fly with willing feet 
 
 To do her least command. 
 
 She lays a mighty toll 
 
 Our fealty to prove. 
 
 But the tribute that we pay 
 
 Is drawn in drafts of love. 
 
 63 
 
DOROTHY 
 
 NEVER cloud so glowing 
 At the break of day, 
 
 As the rose-bloom showing 
 In her cheek alway. 
 
 Never eyes were brighter 
 
 In their depths of blue, 
 
 Never step was lighter, 
 
 Never heart so true. 
 
 Never heart so weary. 
 
 But when she draws nigh, 
 
 With her spirit cheery, 
 
 Quite forgets to sigh. 
 
 6s 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY 
 
 SNOW glints from the side-walks and fences, 
 With frost in the wintry north wind, 
 But now, friends, the good cheer commences, 
 
 And glows through the closely-drawn blind. 
 
 Now comes with an odor appealing 
 
 The turkey so chesty and grand 
 
 And covers but partly concealing 
 
 The rarest good things in the land. 
 
 A pop and a sparkle and bubble, 
 
 A jest and the laughter rings gay 
 
 And Care, with his basket of trouble, 
 Is banished completely away. 
 
 So here's to the lord of the revel. 
 
 His lady and each charming guest. 
 
 And here's to the absent, poor devil, 
 
 And here's to the one we love best. 
 
 67 
 
A BUBBLE 
 
 WITHIN this cup of golden wine, 
 A thousand little bubbles wake 
 Far down within its deepest shrine 
 Then upward fly until they break. 
 
 But from a far more sacred shrine 
 Filled with a choicer draught than this, 
 The spirit of another wine 
 Flies upward, breaking in a kiss. 
 
 69 
 
CHAMPAGNE TOAST 
 
 AS from these depths of golden wine 
 The little bubbles upward start, 
 Like thoughts which rise from heart to lips 
 That ever rise, and so depart. 
 
 So rises from my heart this wish, 
 On little prayer-bulbs upward borne. 
 That every rose which blooms for you 
 May be a rose without a thorn. 
 
 71 
 
ANOTHER TOAST 
 
 HERE'S a pledge to the truth in those bonnie brown eyes, 
 And the humor that sparkles there too, 
 With a nature as sunny as fair summer skies, 
 And a heart that is loyal and true; 
 
 For nothing on earth can do quite so much good 
 As a face brimming over with light, 
 So here's to the man, who whatever his mood, 
 Sheds an influence cheery and bright. 
 
 71 
 
TO A PAIR OF BRIDAL SLIPPERS 
 
 SOME day (it is the usual way) 
 When honeymoon has passed away 
 And years have brought a dear increase 
 That often mars domestic peace, — 
 
 Some day (it is the usual way) 
 When parents must assert their sway, 
 These meek and harmless bridal slippers 
 May serve a turn as youthful flippers. 
 
 75 
 
FAIRY SONG 
 
 COME Jack-oMantern, goblin, sprite, 
 Come fairies all together. 
 From fen and forest speed your flight. 
 Come, 'tis the magic hour of night, 
 All in mid-summer weather. 
 
 Come bull-frog, bring your big bass drum, 
 
 Come small frogs all together. 
 Come owl and bat and cricket come. 
 And nightingale, stay not at home, 
 
 Sing sweet the summer weather. 
 
 Now sleep has drowned the mortal world. 
 
 Come sing we all together 
 And dance in fairy mazes whirled, 
 By mystic moon-beam palely pearled. 
 All in mid-summer weather. 
 
 77 
 
TO A PARROT 
 
 POLLY with the festive coat, 
 And such a solemn little face. 
 Tell us what distorted fancies 
 
 Through your busy noddle chase. 
 
 Don't you know 'tis very rude 
 
 To interject your senseless babble? 
 Geese and women-kind reserve 
 
 Exclusively the right to gabble ; 
 
 But please tell us how you manage 
 
 Not to be a tiresome bore, 
 Yet repeat so^ many times 
 
 The same remark you made before. 
 
 What a triumph for the lazy. 
 What economy of brain, 
 On a round of hackneyed phrases 
 Always fresh applause to gain ! 
 
 What excuse have you to live, 
 
 You brawling, screeching little sinner, 
 Stealing other people's wit. 
 
 Existing only for your dinner? 
 
 79 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 Polly, no, that were a libel, 
 
 For your comicality 
 Often turns some painful train 
 
 Of thought to one of jollity. 
 
 When the conversation runs 
 
 Too close to personality, 
 Frequently you change the theme 
 
 By some droll whimsicality. 
 
 When you cry " sing tra la la " 
 
 And dance and laugh with all your might. 
 We were fossilized indeed 
 
 To merry not at such a sight. 
 
 Polly with the bright green coat 
 
 And Roman nose and pink cravat, 
 
 Brown eyes with their roguish wink 
 
 And yellow gloves and snow-white hat. 
 
 Yes, we like you for your tattle, 
 
 All your funny little ways. 
 You shall dance and screech and prattle, 
 
 For so you brighten ^Jl our days. 
 
 80 
 
THE ANIMALS AT THE SHOW 
 
 FOUR animals went to see the show, 
 A pole-cat, duck, a frog and lamb. 
 And at the door each handed in. 
 
 The currency of Uncle Sam. 
 
 *' Who'll go in first? " quacked Mrs. Duck, 
 The biggest talker of the four, 
 
 " Why I, of course," croaked Mr. Frog, 
 
 And showed his green-back at the door. 
 
 And while they questioned who'd go next, 
 A bee came by and buzzed of honey, 
 
 So sweetly, that the door-man quite 
 
 Forgot to ask her for the money. 
 
 Too late he tried to call her back, 
 
 The inner door behind her swung, 
 
 And as she disappeared they thought 
 
 They heard him hiss the one word, " stung.' 
 
 " Now Mr. Lamb, let's see you try," 
 
 Said Mr. Pole-cat with a grin, 
 " Four quarters ? " asked the door-man then, 
 
 " Yes, quite correct, sir, walk right in." 
 
 8i 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 " Well, I'll be—" " Never mind, my dear," 
 Said Mrs. Duck, " Now watch me go; 
 
 " I made a run on the bank to-day. 
 So I've a little bill to show." 
 
 " Step lively," then the door-man cried. 
 
 And Mr. Pole-cat scratched his head, 
 
 " I trust you'll let me in, sir, though 
 I've only got a scent," he said. 
 
 " A cent, indeed ! " the pole-cat paled. 
 He saw the man was getting mad, 
 
 " A scent, indeed," he held his nose, 
 
 ** Get out of here, the cent is bad." 
 
 The pole-cat started down the road. 
 
 Indignant, grieved and mortified. 
 
 When rolling toward him through the dust, 
 A hoop-snake presently he spied. 
 
 And to the snake he told his tale, 
 
 *' Now was it right my cent to spurn ? ' 
 " Don't bother me," the hoopsnake hissed, 
 
 " You see I've got to ' do a turn.' " 
 
 A sardine next the story heard. 
 
 " I know," said he, " just how you felt; 
 " I've often met with sleights myself, 
 
 Because my family is Smelt." 
 
 *' But come with me ; I've got the means 
 Whereby to fix the measly fox; 
 
 He can't refuse us now, my friend, 
 
 Because, you see, I've got my box." 
 
 82 
 
MOTHER GOOSE VARIANTS 
 
 THE cow that jumped the moon went back 
 To the old sky farm one day 
 And now she runs a dairy in 
 The good old Milky Way. 
 
 Humpty Dumpty went to the show. 
 
 But, alas, the play was bad. 
 
 " Aha ! " said one, " here's an egg to throw." 
 
 Yes, weep, for the tale is sad. 
 
 The bachelor took to himself a wife. 
 To end his single trouble, 
 But found that one and one make two 
 And single troubles double. 
 
 83 
 
AT A DONKEY PARTY 
 
 THERE once was a donkey quite queer 
 Whose tail would at times disappear. 
 And when it returned, 
 It disdainfully spurned 
 To alight at its place in the rear. 
 
 8s 
 
OLD PLANTATION HYMN (Revised) 
 
 OH, dee cas' ole Dan'l in de lion's den, 
 All night long. 
 De lions skeered to tech him, 'cause de Lawd was Dan'l's 
 frien' 
 
 All night long. 
 An' dee sniflf, an' dee sniff, an' dee sniff him out again. 
 But who's gwine to deliver me? 
 
 Ole Jonah he dun sot in de bosom ob de whale, 
 
 All night long. 
 De whale he dun lash an' he splash wid his tail. 
 
 All night long. 
 An' he say to Jonah, " Do you take me foh a jail?" 
 
 But who's gwine to deliver me? 
 
 Ole 'Lijah got so good dat dee wouldn't have him 'round, 
 
 All night long. 
 An' dere come a firey chariot an' hit took him off de ground. 
 
 All night long. 
 An' his overcoat and handkerchief was all dee ever found, 
 
 But who's gwine to deliver me? 
 
 87 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 Pharaoh's daughter got to thinkin' how she'd Hke to have a 
 chile 
 
 All night long. 
 An' Moses was alyin' in de rushes all de while, 
 
 All night long. 
 An' she fin' him an' she say: "I'll jes' take him home on 
 tri'l ! " 
 
 But who's gwine to deliver me? 
 
 88 
 
WHO'S A HERO? 
 
 THERE'S nae sic thing," the Scotchman said, 
 " If you will aye pursuit it, 
 As rale unselfishness, the kind. 
 That has nae string tied to it." 
 
 An ancient earl upreared a church. 
 With monks and learning filled it> 
 
 But ravaged all the country round 
 For men and means to build it. 
 
 The modern rich man builds and names 
 
 The modern institution, 
 But does his ravaging by law 
 
 To forestall retribution. 
 
 Our fathers fought for liberty 
 
 'Gainst all who should upset it: — 
 
 That's liberty for me — and you — 
 (That is, if you can get it). 
 
 "We're all born free and equal," says 
 
 Our infant Declaration, 
 But such a theory, of course, 
 
 Admits of — explanation. 
 
 89 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 The rights of property trace back 
 To him who simply took it, 
 
 And gave it to his heirs, when he. 
 By death compelled, forsook it. 
 
 So what are they but sharers in 
 
 The spoils of devastation? 
 Then why be proud of what at best 
 
 Is only spoliation ? 
 
 " The world owes me a living," says 
 
 A later thief, " bestow it. 
 Nine points are not possession, for 
 
 The tenth is mine, I'll show it." 
 
 And if he's big enough to take 
 A new and dazzling chance, 
 
 A magnate he may be proclaimed, 
 A master of finance. 
 
 But let the petty thief attempt 
 
 In simpler ways to do it. 
 He'll get the chance to plan (in jail) 
 
 More safely to pursue it. 
 
 And let the dazzling venture fail 
 Through some slight indiscretion, 
 
 A suicide, no doubt, will prove 
 His tenth point in possession. 
 
 But there's a gentler selfishness. 
 Life would be sad without it. 
 
 Which seeks its happiness in that 
 Of others round about i* 
 
 90 
 
WHO'S A HERO? 
 
 This man converts his country-side 
 
 To dwellings for the needy, 
 It pleases his paternal heart 
 
 And no one calls him greedy. 
 
 Another builds a Settlement 
 To culture those who need it. 
 
 He has the altruistic taste 
 And barters all to feed it. 
 
 The mother lives and loves and toils 
 And spends her soul for others, 
 
 She may be thanked, she may be blamed, 
 It is the way with mothers. 
 
 The daily martyrdom — too late 
 
 The little tombstone names it. 
 The meteoric sacrifice — 
 
 All history proclaims it. 
 
 But just because the human heart 
 
 Is such a selfish budget, 
 We worship those who give their lives 
 
 And do not seem to grudge it. 
 
 91 
 
CHRISTIAN (?) SCIENCE 
 
 WE all are so good. 
 If we sit down and brood 
 On the goodness and " allness " within and without us, 
 We need have no fear 
 Our crackers and beer 
 Will flow from the " allness " and goodness about us. 
 
 Of course, " there's no evil," 
 
 'Twould be most uncivil 
 To make us imperfect, then send us to thunder. 
 
 " There's nothing but Love " 
 
 In the heavens above, 
 The pockets of men and the hearts that beat under. 
 
 " There can be no trouble '* 
 
 The body's a bubble — 
 It's all a mistaken " belief " and a dreaming. 
 
 God made us to fool us 
 
 Till some one should school us 
 To see what we see to be only a seeming. 
 
 " We're nothing but spirit " — 
 We really don't hear it, 
 Or smell it, or taste, or see it, or feel it. 
 
 93 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 " There is no sensation," 
 Except the temptation 
 To think what we think, when we think we can't heal it. 
 
 This spirit or mind 
 
 Was created so blind 
 We're all of us nursing some little illusion; 
 
 But friends by the score 
 
 (For a dollar or more) 
 Will kindly remove the distressing delusion. 
 
 " We'll murder no longer 
 
 By craft of the stronger/* 
 Says one, and the body is threatened with schism; — 
 
 Rebuked for the use 
 
 (Mother Church says abuse) 
 Of " Malicious Animal Magnetism." 
 
 We never need die. 
 
 If only we'll try 
 To believe that we couldn't, no, not if we would. 
 
 We think we've a pain, 
 
 We've just to maintain 
 We haven't, we wouldn't have, not if we should. 
 
 'Tis quite a mistaken 
 
 Idea we have taken 
 That there's but one method of race propagation. 
 
 A child now to bother 
 
 About who's his father 
 Shows stubborn contempt for the new revelation. 
 
 94 
 
CHRISTIAN (?) SCIENCE 
 
 We'll all live together 
 
 Like brother and sister: 
 No longer the mother in sorrow shall bear. 
 
 If ''Thought is a thing" 
 
 Why can we not bring 
 A child into being by thinking it there? 
 
 How can there be sin? 
 
 If there's nothing within 
 Or without us for sin to get busy upon? 
 
 There can't be transgression 
 
 When we're in possession 
 Of all that the sun, if there were one, shone on. 
 
 Tis perfectly plain, 
 
 Though speaking of pain — 
 Enduring Himself the last ills of the race, 
 
 Christ meant us instead 
 
 To reverse what he said 
 And wait for a " Key " His true meaning to place. 
 
 With subtle intention. 
 
 He thus failed to mention. 
 While heaHng the halt and the deaf and the blind. 
 
 The trick of His healing 
 
 Was simply revealing 
 A mortal deception of " Immortal Mind " — 
 
 And these " Signs and Wonders " 
 
 Arose from the blunders 
 His Father had made in creating mankind. 
 
 And until He was ready 
 
 To send Mrs. Eddy 
 The world must remain to His purposes blind. 
 
 95 
 
LOVE AND THE YEAR 
 
 But being quite human, 
 
 This high-favored woman 
 Straightway on the truth a monopoly took. 
 
 By copyright dower 
 
 Maintaining the power 
 To levy a tax at three dollars a book. 
 
 And lest one should think 
 
 For himself, or should drink 
 From a fountain of truth otherwise than the " Key," 
 
 It is made so obscure 
 
 That one's never quite sure 
 But he knows 'twould be grand if he only could see. 
 
 To further maintain 
 
 The control of the rein, 
 The subjects of sermons, the texts to be read. 
 
 With no obvious reason 
 
 Or reference to season, 
 For each Sabbath and church are ordained by the " Head." 
 
 This " reading " appears 
 
 In parallel tiers — 
 A verse of the " Key " and a verse of God's Word. 
 
 A stranger to both 
 
 Might wonder, in sooth, 
 Which one was preferred, Mrs. E. or the Lord. 
 
 Now, each new secession 
 
 To " Science " profession 
 Must purchase a copy of " Science and Health " — 
 
 Pay membership fee. 
 
 Wherever he be, 
 To " Mother Church," Boston, to add to its wealth. 
 
 96 
 
CHRISTIAN (?) SCIENCE 
 
 Then comes in addition 
 
 Each year an edition 
 Revised in an altered and amphfied style. 
 
 Another taxation 
 
 For " new revelation " 
 Sweeps over the million of faithful, meanwhile 
 
 In cloistered seclusion 
 
 And free from intrusion. 
 Secure in the comfort that riches afford. 
 
 Lives out of the strife 
 
 And the struggle of life 
 This *' Priestess," so called, of the crucified Lord. 
 
 97 
 
DEC 2 1910 
 
One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
 
 1 l^iy