wman *v^ flass -V :^.t^.s Rook ,1 G'T GtT, Copightlf J_a_L5l_ COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. A GARLAND OF VERSE BY CALLIE MILLER-FREEMAN NEW YORK THE WRITER'S PRESS Copyright, 1915, by THE WRITER'S PRESS P. iC f£B I0I9I6 ©JI.A418840 ■■■■■■> 3 TO MY LITTLE GIRL MAUD POWELL MILLER-FREEMAN TO THE ONE WHO HAS BORNE THE SAME LOVE IN HER HEART FOR ME MY MOTHER MY LINES GOD grant me grace that I may write Good thoughts and sweet and true, That some day your dear eyes may read, And they may live in you. Or to my trusty friend afar My lines may message take, That gazing on the written page Fond memories may awake. Then I would help the sad and lone; Just little singing songs I would send forth, with prayerful thought, To lessen, mayhap, wrongs. I'll pray for wisdom that I may Help those who have not strength, With little songs that are not great Or famed for any length. I WALKED IN MY GARDEN I WALKED in my garden at sweet dewy morn, Where the heart of the rose shed its fra- grance so rare ; I drank with the flowers the winds floating o'er, And pondered the lessons of life hidden there. I had planted and watered and watched day by day, And each blossom had place in the love of my heart, God gave these to me that I tended with care, 'Mongst the dear things of life my flow- ers had part. For they peopled a world all of sunshine and love, My violets and pansies and sweet helio- trope, My daisies and lilies and carnations white Bore ever a message of love and of hope. I gazed deep in the heart of the rose there to find The soul that held secrets no mortal may know; And learned that the Maker of all that is Good Forgets not the hour each blossom shall blow. Once again in my garden I walked at the dawn — Lo! roses and lilies and violets were dead! Oh, bloom they anew in the Garden of God? — Oh, whence, can you tell me, their fra- grance is fled? THE RED ROSE AND THE WHITE I WOULD not pluck the deep red rose, The first to charm my sight, But rather I have waited, dear, Till I could cull the white. For though the red meant happiness, The white meant peace I knew ; Thorns hedged about the red, red rose, The white one wore the dew. And so I left the red, red rose, The first that charmed my sight, And waited till the day was spent To bring to you the white. MY VIOLIN AND I WE are old friends of many years, My violin and I ; Once on a day I vowed that we So far away would fly That there would come no other love, No thought to separate — I had not reckoned in those days Upon the tricks of fate; For time has brought its changes — I know my violin sings Far happier for fingers wee Oft tugging at its strings ! LULLABY AWAY, little babe, to the sweet wild- wood, Away where the violets grow, And there we will sing in the grape-vine swing, So soft and low, oh, ho ; oh, ho ! So softly we'll sing, so softly we'll swing, To the sweet wildwood we'll go. The breeze will tangle your curly hair, And the sunshine kiss your lips, And the fairies will play with you all day, They will dance on your finger-tips. They will dance while we sing in the grape- vine swing, They will dance on your finger-tips. Remember, your mother is dreaming, too, Of the wild wood's tender glow, And there 'mid the trees we will rest at ease, So away, away let us go. So softly we'll sing in the grape-vine swing, So softly and sweet, ho, ho! 10 Now drop down the curtain of your dear eyes, We'll gather the fragrant flowers; See their beautiful hue, like the eyes of you, I'll crown you the queen of their bowers. Their queen you will be 'neath the wild- wood tree — Then it's ho for the land of flowers ! Here we are, little babe, in the sweet wild- wood, Where daisies and daffodils blow, Where birds sweetly sing, and the cheer they bring Will follow us now as we go, As we travel along in the land of song Where the rippling streamlets flow. Away, little babe, you are now asleep, And I lay you down — by-low! While I lift up my eyes to the clear blue skies, To the giver of gifts below. Then sleep in your nest and sweet be your rest, While the sun in the West sinks low. By-low, by-low, by-low, by-low, Sleep, little one ; pretty one, sleep ! ii TO A VASE OF ROSES MY heart is quiet ; my voice is still ; I am looking at, oh, such a beauti- ful thing! I let them speak, for speak they will, And I hark the song that their spirits sing. You brought them and placed them so near my hand, In a vase with its crystal water clear, Their language you knew I would under- stand, Their song you were sure my soul would hear. Oh, roses sweet, in the garden bed Beside you did weeds so oft upspring? Did you bend your beauty, your perfume shed, That a blessing your presence to them might bring? In the garden of life we know that none May stand in beauty without some touch Of the weeds that grow 'neath the glorious sun, That we only can conquer by loving much. 12 THOU STAR OF MY SOUL THOU star of my soul and my guiding star, Shouldst thou fall from my sky on a cloudy night, And leave me here to tread alone, Groping in vain for some ray of light, Oh, how could I fare through the world alone, How could I with storm and tempest cope ? — Ah, leave me not ever, my guiding star, Thou luminous thing that men call Hope ! Thou star of my soul, let mine eyes see clear And vision the dawn of a cloudless day, When over the earth sweet peace shall brood, And men like brothers shall walk the way! — For how can they mount to the heavens high, And how can they know that God is God, Unless they follow the star of the soul That lifts man up from the moldering sod? 13 INTO MY LIFE INTO my life came a long sweet day; It wakened the hopes that slumbered there ; It spanned the sky with a rainbow bright, And it made of the rose a thing more fair. And this was the day that you came to me, Came with a trust like a thing divine, And my heart made room to enshrine its god, Complete was the hour you called me thine. Into my life came the sorrowful years, But there' at the threshold their hoods they doffed, For the bitterest cup love sweetened for me, And I kissed the rood while its dregs I quaffed. 14 JESTERS THE song that is sung may come from a heart, That is playing in life its own little part, That knows that its mission is smiles and not tears, And hides from the world its sorrows and fears. The jest that rings merry may hide the deep sigh, That the world may not know as it gaily goes by That the blow that was dealt has found its aim true, The scar that it made's not for me or for you. Then hold ye, ye gossips, nor say that he's gay, Or she has no heart for aught else but to play. It may come your turn to smile when you'd weep; Each heart in its depths some secret must keep. 15 THE ARMS THAT FAILED THE arms that failed, that failed me so, In my great hour of need, Were oh, were oh, such earthly arms, So weak and frail indeed ! They failed, because I rested there Content with earthly gain ; And now I look to Thee for strength — Those years brought only pain. I'll walk no more in earthly ways, In ways my feet have trod, For, oh, I know the arms that failed Have lifted me to God. 16 SPAKE MY SOUL "QTEP aside," said my Soul to my time- ^ worn Self, " Be still, let me speak, though without tongue am I ; God gave me a house, and you claim it your own; You are * master,' you say, till the day that you die! " But the great ones of earth, I will tell you, are those Who live by the truth that is drawn from above, They forget worldly self, and all selfish in- tent- Make room in my house; I would fill it with love ! " 17 A WOMAN'S WAY A WOMAN'S heart And a pure heart, A heart of gold had she, A heart for love And only love As true as true could be. A woman's song From her heart of gold Sent a thrill through a heart one day. It echoed back To her heart of gold, And love began that way. A woman's face With tender light, Sweeter than music rare, And eyes of blue, And soul so true All free from worldly care. A woman's life All just begun Crowned true with love and beauty, Awoke one day to a sweeter way, Found love meant patient duty. 18 REMEMBRANCE f'TpWAS just a rose you gave to me at A parting, We stood that evening at the garden gate, But now its faded petals, lingering perfume, Bring back to me the cruel stab of fate. I wonder if the roses still are blowing In that old garden with its drooping wil- low tree; I wonder if the scent of faded roses Brings o'er your heart some memory of me? 19 JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE YOU (Song) I LOVE you, dear; I love you, just be- cause you're you, Your gentleness and tenderness, your eyes of violet blue. My heart is ever singing a song that's sweet and true; 'Tis this, " I love you, love you, just be- cause you're you." CHORUS Just because you're you, dear, that is the reason true ; None other need I give you; it's just be- cause you're you. There may be gay and bright ones, but faithful hearts are few; I know I love you truly, because — you are just you. I loved the golden tresses that lay upon my breast, And now I kiss the silver locks, I love them none the less ; I hear your girlish laughter, and see the dimples play; I love you just as much, dear, and better day by day. 20 MY HARP THE string of Love and the string of Pain On the Harp of my Soul did break, And though the music comes not again, I'll sing on for the gray world's sake. F FINISHED INISHED? Ah, no. God has a future use For all the toiler spins and weaves, The painter's art, the singer's song, The binder of the harvest sheaves. We may not see today the good we wrought, Because so well the seed was sown, But those who walk the ways we passed Our deeds as helpful staves may own. 21 A PRAYER WHAT step, O Lord, shall I take next to meet thine own decree? What deed shall I, all willing, do to bless humanity ? What added pain for me to bear that I may show the way That leads to perfect faith and trust, unto the perfect day ? Oh, let my tongue speak out Thy love that others, too, may know; Lead Thou my feet along the paths where Thou wouldst have me go ; And should it be the valley, Lord, whose shadow is called " death," E'en there I will no evil fear; thou'lt keep my latest breath. 22 MOTHER-CHARGE A MOTHER holds within her power The greatest gift on earth, And she becomes a reigning queen The hour that she gives birth. A mother moulds the fate of men Along the path of years ; She can instill within their hearts Great hopes or shameful fears. A mother's love is pure and true, More deep than earth can tell; A mother's weak, unknowing heart Can cast a soul in hell. A mother weaves in daily round Sweet blessings for her own ; The fruit that's garnered by the years Comes from the seed she's sown. A mother keeps the wolves of sin From gnawing at the gate, For ere the little child is grown The years tell out his fate. 23 O mother, in your hand you hold The dawn or doom of men, And if you fail to guard the fold You're not a mother then! SEED AND FLOWER INTO the dark the seed must go That flowers may bless the earth; Into the shadows the soul must go E'er it may know rebirth; As out of the mould the floweret springs, So out of the shadows the soul takes wings, And finds its home with supernal things, When God shall lift the veil. 24 SERVITUDE A MOTHER bowed her head, and said " How useless, Lord, I know ; Take thou these tears of grief and pain To crystallize like snow. " Nor let them touch the fire of love, To fall again like tears, Benumb this aching void of pain And ever thronging fears. " Nor let, O Lord, my love-light dim, God-given and divine, But clear away the clouded skies O'er this weak heart of mine." A mother dried her tears and prayed : " This servitude to woe Remove, dear Lord, and give my heart Joy such as angels know." 25 COMPENSATION CALM thy sad heart and know that God is nigh; Some cloud will touch the blue of every sky; The darkest night is followed by the bright- est morn; From deepest woes the greatest joys are born — Our rainy days make beautiful the flowers. PENITENCE OLORD, forgive my sinning Grant me a new beginning, Far from all evil ways. Forget my old past's sorrow, May time with each tomorrow Bring me more perfect days. 26 SHADOWS ARE the years that are passing but shad- ows That play on the stern face of Time, And what are they writing, as flitting, A message forlorn or sublime? And why should the years wear but shad- ows? Can they wreathe not the dial with light ? And can not the finger that's tracing Draw pictures all rosily bright ? 'Tis not fair that Time only may gather The fragments of myrrh and of rue; We've a task; let us give him some blos- soms, Dear heartsease, all fragrant with dew. 27 THE MASTER'S WAY THE Master knew I was sad and lone, With a life o'erburdened with care; He bade my heart be glad as I Knelt at His feet in prayer. I told Him all, of my soul's deep grief, As though He did not know, And prayed He'd lift my bitter load, For oh! it galled me so! But soon I heard the Master's voice, It came so small and still ; " Rise, child," it said, " for thou art free, Do thou the Master's will. " Do well thy task, it heavenward leads, The way thy Master trod Knew toil and pain — He did not shrink — The way led straight to God." 28 ON MARRIAGE GOD'S law doth hold the world in place ; God's word no mortal can efface, And He hath said: " They twain one flesh shall be." God's love doth fill two hearts with peace ; God's holy plan means no release ; He hath declared : "They twain one flesh shall be." God's heaven oft reaches to the earth, God gives two souls one wondrous birth When He commands : " They twain one flesh shall be." 29 THE WOMAN AND THE LILY YOU held in your hand a lily, you crushed its petals fair, Would you crush the soul of a woman if you might hold it there? You might crush the beauteous lily you found on the prairie lone, But the woman-soul you could not crush, for God keeps that alone. Would you break the pearly petals and toss them to the wind, Where none but the seeing eye of God the ruined heap could find? The woman-heart you might sear with pain, might stifle its every cry, Might toss the fragments upon the wind, but the record is on high. 30 MOTHER TIT OTHER, come back to me, Mother, -*•▼■■• Years are long and friends are un- true, In all the wide world — Oh, I know it ! — There's no one, dear Mother, like you. When the world is unkind then I long so To hide in your breast as of old, For the warmth of your heart was the warmth of my life, What matter though others were cold. And at night when I kneel at God's foot- stool, I pray that you still may be near, And, feeling that you have not left me, I rest and forget every fear. 31 WHEN I GO DEAR Lord, I would leave something when I go, It may be an old scrap-book full of thoughts That I have garnered from rich poet lore, Or it may be a tender love held in a heart Of one I have called Friend; it may be just A kindly word that I have spoken to a saddened soul Or some small act of kindness to a needy one. Whate'er it may be, howe'er so humbly set, I would my heritage claim more than this, A white and speechless tombstone, cold, without A touch of that real warmth that counts For kindling fires along the march of life. Let me leave something that in hearts may live, When I am called to go. 32