Class JRILLU Book__<_L££p& Gof5TightN° COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. A PARABLE OF THE ROSE AND OTHER POEMS By LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN ABRAHAM LINCOLN. A Poem. Centennial (Third) Edition. This poem was awarded the prize offered by the New York Herald, in 1895. The Centennial Edition, the third, has been revised and enlarged. A PARABLE OP THE ROSE AND OTHER POEMS A Parable of the Rose And Other Poems By Lyman Whitney Allen G. P. Putnam's Sons New York and London Gbe fmfcftetbocftet press 1908 I of CONGRESS Two Coi NOV 21 iSOd Copyritffit tnt CopyrirfPt entry ^ class fcfc* Wtojao . Copyright, 1908 BY LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN TTbc fmfcfcerbocfeer prees, flew H?orfc TO PHEBE I cannot find in shop or mart The things which thou dost value high; For things can never satisfy A mountain nature risen apart From valley creatures, coveting Life, vision, music, poesie, — The ripest fruits of Wisdom's tree, Imagination's eye and wing. Therefore I give thee of life's yield My treasures, garnered year by year, — Some bits of heavenly atmosphere, Some gleams the peaks of joy revealed, Some finer strains of faith whose lilt Is music strange, to thee not strange Since thou hast had ascension range Where skyey domes of seers are built. These are a spirit's soaring thrifts Got 'twixt the rhythms of Love and Fate, A poet's soul articulate, A poet's songs — his choicest gifts. CONTENTS A Parable of the Rose Canzonets . I. Lenses of Delight . II. O'er Rime's Confusion III. From Aery Leashes IV. My Skyey Shepherdess San Gabriel The Vision of a Mature Mind The Ass of Destiny The Birds of Love Madrigals . I. Till the Day Goes by II. Alas ! . III. A Dear Complexity IV. Prairie Queen V. If Love Abides VI. Love's Coming PAGE I 13 15 17 19 21 24 28 32 38 41 43 44 46 47 49 5i viii CONTENTS PAGE VII. The Heart of Spring 53 VIII. Just She . 56 Shakespeare ...... 58 Beethoven's Seventh Symphony 62 Edmund Clarence Stedman . 65 China . . 66 Ars Artium ..... 69 Sonnets 75 Prelude: The Sonnet 77 I. The Tree and the Rose 78 II. Like Love in Heaven 80 III. Love's Immortality 82 IV. My Seraphim . 84 V. Saint Michael's . 86 VI. Day-Dreams . 88 VII. Tennyson .... 90 VIII. Princeton .... 92 Lyrics 95 I. The Same Old Love 97 II. A Soul's Return . 99 III. Atmosphere .... 100 CONTENTS IX IV. The Captain on the Bridge . PAGE . I0 3 V. Retrospection . 10/ VI. Genesis .... IO9 VII. The Silence of God III VIII. My Father .... • "3 Wheat and Husks .... . 117 I. Fruit of the Threshing . 119 II. The Need of the Husk . 121 III. The Rime of the Refuse 123 IV. Loss and Gain . 125 V. The Husk's Glory . 127 VI. The Starting of Sorrow 129 VII. God and the Wrong x 3* VIII. The Law of the Evil 1 33 IX. Fate and Pain . 135 X. A Song of the Mysticals 137 XI. Break of the Day . 140 XII. Through Death to Life . 141 XIII. The Touch of the Skies 143 XIV. The Creed of Love 145 A PARABLE OF THE ROSE. A POET dreamed a matin dream Most mystical, most true; His soul beheld a pageant gleam Against th' illumined blue. As real did the sight appear, With skyey landscape spell, As ever shone before trouvere, Lorris or Clopinel. And one who gazed with tranced heart Upon this holy Thing, Were recreant to Love and Art If he refused to sing. 2 A PARABLE OF THE ROSE Creative visions come in days When noontide's splendor fades Beneath the firmamental rays Of Love's white overshades. These are celestial signs that show Love's sovereign ebb and flow; The imagery of Providence That heightens soul and sense, And sets Life's perfect paradigm Before the world in rime. There loomed the garden of a King, — A garden such as poet eye Had ne'er beholden, — opening Through crystal portals wide and high; A barred and battlemented close Of bloom, perfume, adagios A PARABLE OF THE ROSE 3 Of fountains murmurous, melodies From woodland quires and meadow broods Of birds symphonious, fruiting trees And trees umbrageous, broidered roods Of rest, delight's similitudes, Processions hymnic, jocund forms, In train of Love's each new surprise, With dancing feet, and radiant swarms Of children playing circlewise In angelhood's disguise. The poet wandered to and fro, And gladness filled his heart. His nature ne'er before did know Such promptings unto art. Each scented waft of atmosphere Was inspiration strong and clear. 4 A PARABLE OF THE ROSE Before the poet's loitering feet A rosebush stood, and on it shone One great white Rose full-blown. Its creamy petals, oversweet, Shed fragrance of such high degree, Such musky sorcery, That all the garden seemed to sense Its quickening redolence. About it spread a circle fair Of angels with long folded wings, Who guarded with ecstatic care This Rose of which the poet sings; And round it ranged a shining row Of saints, whose blessed eyes bespake Large wonder, chanting sweet and low Life's rapture for Love's sake. A PARABLE OF THE ROSE And one fair saint high Love bequeathed In days of earlier bliss Bent o'er it tenderly and breathed One long ascension kiss, And lifted her white hands and blessed, A prescience in her eyes, The Rose with such enamoured zest, — For this was Paradise, — That as he gazed the Rose and She Seemed mixed in sacred unity. I But none might touch the great white Rose That grew within the garden's close. This was the garden of the King, And this the King's beloved flower Full-blown for Him. Each lesser thing Of amaranthine mead or bower 6 A PARABLE OF THE ROSE All might possess; but Kinghood's mind Delight above delights designed, And fashioned to art's last degree A royal Rose for Royalty. The poet gazed, and o'er his soul Wave after wave of rapture stole. His lips were dumb; his eyes were fixed Upon the flower; what glamour mixed With glory! In its deep rich heart A dewdrop lay. What rightful part Had he by sufferance in such bloom That filled the garden with perfume? The poet waited long beside The Rose, and grew more mystified. A PARABLE OF THE ROSE ; He breathed its odors,— but to dare To touch it!— nay, it was the King's; It was enough to have some share Of saints' and angels' sorcerings. At last he heard the rhythmic feet Of the approaching King; and bowed Beside the Rose, feeling its sweet Wild joyance round him like a cloud Of passionate incense flame and swing To greet the coming of the King. He bowed, but dared not lift his eyes; This was the Lord of Paradise. He sensed the patience of his soul Become high burgeoning, while all 8 A PARABLE OF THE ROSE His mystic feelings seemed to roll From joy to joy seraphical Up Nature's every opened aisle With hope's delirious overflows That shook the flowers and stirred the file Of angels round the great white Rose. The King stood still, and from his eyes The love that fashioned Paradise Illumed Him, while His lips, bedewed With sweetness, breathed beatitude; And all the saints and seraphim Bowed low adoringly to Him. The King came to the great white Rose That grew within His garden's close; And bending o'er it with a kiss, While every petal shook with bliss A PARABLE OF THE ROSE g And the pale chalice glowed and flamed, The Lord of Paradise exclaimed: "O Rose, My Rose, I planted here And tended, thou hast bloomed at last ! So full, so white thou dost appear! Thou hast My early faith surpassed! Thou art the rose I hoped would be When in great love I cultured thee!" With this He stooping plucked the flower And pressed it to His lips. Again The fluttering birds in every bower Warbled, while all the children fain With saints and angels raised their eyes In holy rapture toward the skies. "O Rose, My Rose! thou shalt fulfil At last thy mission and My will. IO A PARABLE OF THE ROSE The King's white roses all are grown For the King's singers, — them alone.' And all the garden seemed to gleam With the new joy; the poet heard Sweet tides of holy music stream From distant hills; bird after bird Mixed dulcet strains in orchards near With children's laughter sweet and clear; And all the angels shook their wings In mystic ravishings. And one glad saint stood forth and bent A moment o'er the poet, sent One flash of love into his breast, One testimonial kiss impressed, Then slowly rose and stood beside The shining King beatified. A PARABLE OF THE ROSE II Then turned the King of Paradise Full on the poet, held the flower Above him quivering, while his eyes Shone with such grace, such regnant power, That every soul was caught and swayed By holy Love's divinest art. Then smiled the King, and stooping laid The Rose upon the poet's heart; And as he clasped the peerless thing The King exclaimed: "Now, Poet, sing!" CANZONETS. 13 I. LENSES OF DELIGHT. HPO pray, and know the heavens are open wide To send down every grace; To live, and feel a woman's heart beside To gladden every place; To dream with her, and watch the tender blue For every wonder new; This is to rise and breathe the purer air Off lofty mountain crest; Behold the further stretch of shining stair On which high spirits rest; And e'er where vanished ministrants have trod, Perceive the form of God. 15 l6 LENSES OF DELIGHT Sky visions seen through lenses of delight Set in a woman's eyes; And music, heard through passionate lips be- dight With Love's vermilion dyes, — These are the feeders to a poet's lays Which after ages praise. II. O'ER RIME'S CONFUSION. HPHOU earnest, oh so sorcerously sweet! One matin hour of eld, My winged Hope! and, at thy shrinal feet, Since then mine art has held Each song-wrought censer of my soul's desire, For Love's empyreal fire. Flaming o'er rime's confusion thou didst come Upon my tranced heart: Thy miracle struck every prophet dumb, And my tumultuous art Awoke to see, from gleam to gleam along, Love's Bethel steps of song, a 17 18 o'er rime's confusion Thou art Love's angel with forbidding sword Guarding Arcadian state; The poet's moods, the poet's music stored Within Love's templed gate, Which thou alone mak'st radiant passage through Down from th' unstained blue. III. FROM AERY LEASHES. TV /I Y winged Faith thou art, and thou art here, From aery leashes slipped, — My constant vision, my enduring seer, My life's apocalypt; My priestess at the altar of romance, My spirit's puissance. Nor lips nor lute can tell the ecstasy Thine orisons bestow; Responsive founts of psychic power set free In music's mystic flow. Thy love is my cathedral sheltering, 'Neath which I dream and sing. 19 20 FROM AERY LEASHES Regeneration's bread! I eat and free My soul from earth's domain; Imagination's wine! I drink and see The sky's superior grain; And life, from glory unto glory spent, Is one long sacrament. IV. MY SKYEY SHEPHERDESS. HP HE RE is a shining garden far away Walled from the common sight; An orchard of green palms, a wide array Of roses red and white, And tender violets whose azure eyes Bespeak Love's paradise. Here is Love's music, such as never feels The insufficient lyre; Here is Love's perfect rapture at the heels Of perfected desire; And here the poet wanders with his Muse Down fancy's avenues. 22 MY SKYEY SHEPHERDESS With eyes to see, with ears to hear, with heart To sense the universe As must the seraphim, thou giv'st mine art The things thy thoughts rehearse; The finer things of darkness and of light, And Love's interior sight. For Love alone that is the world's eclipse The heights of song I scale; Thine eyes the sorcery of the peaks, thy lips The witchery of the vale. And my enchanted thoughts do reverence To thy diviner sense. Thou art Love's warden on the stormy steep Where poet frenzy leads; MY SKYEY SHEPHERDESS 23 Or where 'mid sunny meadows verdured deep His browsing fancy feeds; Thou art the surety of my song's success, My skyey Shepherdess! SAN GABRIEL. CAN Gabriel! I stand and wonder at thy walls So old, so quaint; a glory falls Upon them as I view the past, And read the story which thou hast Preserved so well. San Gabriel! I gaze and marvel at thy towers, Thy belfry strange through which the hours Fleet-footed crowd two hundred years, Whose echoing music yet appears In each sweet bell. 24 SAN GABRIEL 2$ San Gabriel! What souls were they who fashioned thee To be a blessed charity! What faith was theirs who bore the cross, And counted wealth and ease but loss Of Christ to tell! San Gabriel! Before thy gates what heavy tolls Have fallen from sin-burdened souls! Within thy walls what new desires Of love have quenched fierce hatred's fires, From nave and cell! San Gabriel! What guidance hast thou flashed along The ways of savagery and wrong, 26 SAN GABRIEL And shamed th' unholy and unkind, The theftuous hand, the murderous mind, Ere ravage fell! San Gabriel! A glamour of the ancient time Remains with thee! Thou hast the rime Of some old poem, and the scent Of some old rose's ravishment Naught can dispel! San Gabriel! From Mexico to Monterey Thy sisters greet thee 'midst decay; But thou dost stand a living thing, And round thee living passions cling And voices swell! SAN GABRIEL 27 San Gabriel! Within thee all my doubtings cease; I find the holy Prince of Peace; And feel the thrill of brotherhood Betwixt my soul and those who stood For this same faith, for this same world, And Christ's one flag of love unfurled! San Gabriel! San Gabriel! I own thy sweet and mystic spell. THE VISION OF A MATURE MIND. T CARE not for the Spring as once I did. I miss the gladness of those earlier years When, in the orchard where the robins hid Their nests 'mid bloomy coverts, eyes and ears Caught mime and rime of mystic rhapsodies, As Life and Joy disported 'neath the apple trees. I thrilled to sense the pulsing of the grass And breathe the subtle odors of the ground, As Nature's resurrection morns did pass Into ascension days of light and sound; I dreamed of love and power, youth's alchemies, Achievement quickly wrought and swift-sur- rendering ease. 28 THE VISION OF A MATURE MIND 29 I gazed entranced upon th' expansive sky, And watched the garish clouds, white- bannered ships, Sail over heaven's blue main. I felt God's eye Impiercing Beauty's wide apocalypse. I built me vast cathedral fantasies, And joined the universal anthem of degrees. But now I dwell amidst the city's strain, See flaunted Wealth and Fashion's masquerade, Hear Toil's deep undertones of hate and pain, Witness Life fighting Fate with broken blade. My soul is limned with ominous images Of want, despair, and shame, — and death, — Sin's sure decrees. 30 THE VISION OF A MATURE MIND I hear above bird-songs curses of men, Heart-sobs of women, little children's wails. Beneath the apple blooms there looms the ken Of Woe's processions o'er Oppression's trails ; My soul cannot escape earth's tyrannies; The sorcerous season palls, the wonted pleasure flees. Gone is the olden gladness of the Spring; I feel an alien 'mid its happy throngs; While man wounds man, while hearts have sufferings, Mine is the sphere of life's unrighted wrongs. I turn back to the world's activities To haste Love's golden age as God's high Will shall please. THE VISION OF A MATURE MIND 3 1 The dreams of lifting up Redemption's Cross, Holding Faith's torch above the paths of gloom, Starting a song of Hope through cells of loss, Planting Love's roses 'gainst the walls of doom, — These are the Springtime's sweetest reveries; These are Heaven's holy joys beneath earth's fruiting trees. THE ASS OF DESTINY. [ SING of a simple creature, The ass of destiny. My vision takes strangeful feature As eyes of the spirit see Past veils of the dark and the dust; And art bends low to the must. I sing of an animal sign; I wot not of what I sing, Beholding the glory shine From Heaven round earthly thing. My soul is filled with an awe Of fate that is upper law. 32 THE ASS OF DESTINY 33 The Master of sacrifice Rode triumphing on an ass; Love furnished the earnest price For ownership of the pass Up hell-fought steeps to the plains Where losses emerge in gains. Behind the Acceptable Year What cycles of years there are! And writ is the history clear On mystery's calendar Of this strange ass and the King Who rode to His suffering. It came as all others came, — This creature elect. Who knew The hovering wings of flame, The rhythmical retinue 34 THE ASS OF DESTINY That kept the centuried way- Unhindered for its birthday? 'T was born; but who recognized The steed of the Prince of Peace? It grew; but what man surmised Its worth to the world's increase? No singular signs it wore. 'T was only an ass, — no more. At last came the fulness of time; All time to its fulness comes; This scourges the poet's rime To songs of millenniums. Who knows where such strain belongs May fashion the ages' songs. THE ASS OF DESTINY 35 A purpose; a fact to be; Betwixt them long ignorance That counts that the race is free And time and the world are chance, And all that happens fulfils The folly of fugitive wills. So be it for thee, thou blind To song, and thou deaf to light! In loftier realms of the mind Eyes hearken and ears have sight; For music and flame are one Where wings of seraphim run. The prophets are not extinct; Innumerous as the stars They live unbeholden, linked With God past visible bars; 36 THE ASS OF DESTINY They speak; Love hears and affirms Fulfilment in mystic terms. Time understands; and the air Has knowledge; and force beholds; The angels guard; and the care Of sainthood's heart unfolds. What was, is, and is to be Is scion of Destiny. A little enlarged to much In prophecy's aftermath; Who kens when the King may touch The trivial in thy path, And prove it predestinate, The hinge of the ages' fate? THE ASS OF DESTINY 37 Walk softly, soul, and watch! Thou knowest not at what turn The commonest thing may catch The glory of Heaven, and burn Before thee, and show the edge Of infinite privilege. THE BIRDS OF LOVE. TJIGH Love lets loose his singing birds In every heart that yields to him. These are the poet's runic words For what the Muses limn. O Love! I yield my heart to thee; To thee most leal my heart belongs; Come, birds of skyey royalty, And sing your happy songs! My orchard trees are all in bloom, And waiting for your quiring moods: Come, mingle with the Spring's perfume Your fluting interludes! 38 THE BIRDS OF LOVE 39 O birds of Love, the wild, the tame! I crave each aery fugitive. Who holds to Love may boldly claim All boons which Love can give. O birds of Love, how blithe you are! Bright waftures from his tropic breast. Love changes Nature's calendar And turns the east wind west. O birds of Love, what cheer you make! There is no discord in your notes; 'T is Love alone has power to wake Song-bursts from silent throats. O birds of Love, your carollings With joyance fill each fragrant spray! Love's is the only voice that sings The perfect roundelay. 40 THE BIRDS OF LOVE O birds of Love 'twixt earth and sky! Build firm your nests, bring forth your young. Ascension things fast multiply Wherever Love has sprung. O birds of Love, you vanish not With warnings of the Winter's strain! Love keeps the heart a Summer spot And all his birds remain. High Love's ethereal comradery! Fulfilment of the poet's words! The heart can never lonely be With Love's sweet singing birds. MADRIGALS. 41 I. TILL THE DAY GOES BY. A FACE to a sky of blue, A heart to a song; With wild birds singing through The whole day long; And roses crimson and white Across my face Blown hard in the wind's delight With perfume and grace; I lie and dream to the sky, And sing to my heart, And dream and sing till the day goes by And the birds depart. 43 II. ALAS! IV A Y heart is sad with waiting, Love, Waiting for thee. My eyes are dim with watching, Love, Watching for thee. The sunlight fades, the night draws nigh, The stars come forth in the clear sky, I sit alone, alone and sigh, — Sighing for thee. My heart is faint with longing, Love, Longing for thee. My eyes are worn with weeping, Love, Weeping for thee. 44 ALAS ! 45 The night-winds murmur as they pass, Trailing thy name through the long grass, My soul cries out, alas! alas! Alas for me! III. A DEAR COMPLEXITY. JWIY Sweetheart, Sweetheart mine! I love but thee, but thee, Thou dear complexity, Half human, half divine! Thy graces ever shine Each day on me, on me; Without thy face to see, Each day my heart would pine, And joy would slowly surely be Only a haunting memory. 46 IV. PRAIRIE QUEEN. A /lY heart is a great prairie Close-bounded about by sky, — Blue sky of God, with a rim Of yellow and red, and aery; — Sweet wealth of the thoughts that lie Past graces where trace is dim. Down deep in the sacred centre, Bloom-wise to the rising sun, Art thou, my Prairie Queen! Whose waftures of fragrance enter My spirit, and make it one With Love and the world unseen. 47 48 PRAIRIE QUEEN My God and my Queen are sufficient, On prairie or mountain range; I ask nothing more nor less, — His compassing power omniscient, Her love that can never change, Their fusion of tenderness. IF LOVE ABIDES. A17HAT grief can break the heart If Love abides? Whate'er betides Sweet Love can heal the smart. He with divinest art Swift help provides; What grief can break the heart If Love abides? 49 50 IF LOVE ABIDES His words new courage start; Despair subsides; And sorrow hides In unknown ways apart ; What grief can break the heart If Love abides? VI. LOVE'S COMING. IN Springtide days of splendor, When speech was blithe and tender, And all the world of hearts was young and strong, Love came with wooing graces, Slipped out from shining spaces, With lifted lute and lips for perfect song. On floating wings he lingered In aureoles, and fingered The shimmering strings and sang a song to me. 5i 52 LOVE S COMING He sang so sweet, a feeling Of sunlit pinions stealing Around me bound my soul in ecstasy. With one long note of rapture He turned, as if to capture Some wildering fragrance blown across his way; Then suddenly ascending He vanished, like the spending Of light behind a cloud of fading day. Through weary years of yearning I wait for Love's returning And never comes he back nor heeds my cry ; But all my heart is ringing With echoes of his singing: Oh, come, sweet Love, again before I die! VII. THE HEART OF SPRING. T ROSE from my sleep When thou didst call; I broke from the keep Of Winter's thrall; The frost-time scorning I hailed the morning To dwell with thee and Life. I gazed on the skies When thou didst smile; I felt in thine eyes The sun's warm guile; 53 54 THE HEART OF SPRING My dark robes leaving I donned light's weaving To dwell with thee and Joy. I harked to the birds When thou didst sing; I heard in thy words The heart of Spring; The treetops' quiring I left, desiring To dwell with thee and Song. I scented the South When thou didst kiss; I drained at thy mouth The cup of bliss; THE HEART OF SPRING 55 From earthly storing I turned adoring To dwell with thee and Love. With thee I dwell, My goddess sweet! I feel the spell Around thy feet; 'T is earth ascending, 'T is Spring unending To dwell with thee and Faith. VIII. JUST SHE. T TOW beautiful are the days of Spring! But what if there be no heart to sing? Who cares for the bluebird's note If one sweet voice is still, And silent the only throat That set the earth athrill? 'T was Love that made the Spring for me, — My Love, just She, just She. How beautiful are the days of Spring! But what if there be no heart to sing? 56 JUST SHE 57 Who cares for the May's perfume If one sweet flower is dead, And vanished the only bloom That life with joy o'erspread? 'T was Love that unmade the Spring for me, — My Love, just She, just She. How beautiful are the days of Spring! And what if there be a heart to sing? There 's rapture that conquers grief, When one sweet soul exists Past death, and assures belief In Heaven's evangelists. 'T is Love that remakes the Spring for me, — My Love, just God and She. SHAKESPEARE. T MMORTAL Shakespeare, — he who loved Great Love And built him thrones where'er his genius made Dead ages live! Within the heart of Rome, Above the Caesars, set he One whose grace Turned catacombal darkness into light To daze the world; and in the pagan North, And past the confines of the sunset sea, Wrought spiritual kingdoms, bulging forth The ancient walls of custom into wreck With the new throne-rooms of the Nazarene. 58 SHAKESPEARE 59 Death has one pang, — the leaving of my books; But am I loth to leave the written word To find the speaking master? Such great souls As claim, unclaiming, worthy reverence From those who find their own exceeding worth In the re-birth of spirit at the touch Of genius, the sky-flash of earthly souls, Are as the sea that flings the surf ashore In long thin edges of encurling foam, But has its deeps unfathomable, breadths For mighty ships, and mounts and gulfs of wave, Close-kindred to the moon and all the stars. The surge of Shakespeare's soul along the edge Of our great Anglo-Saxon continent, By night, by day, through changing seasons' tides, We hear; we hearken, laughing, praising Heaven 60 SHAKESPEARE For seashore such as ours, and our great sea. But out afar, 'mid mists that have not lifted, Lie the vast breadth and depth of Shake- speare's soul, Of which King Lear and Hamlet and Macbeth Are but the earthward foam. To leave this shore Is to sail outward on yon open sea, And sailing hear the rhythm of yeasty deeps Fierce-tossed with mighty billows, feel the force Of under-fathoms and the straining moon, And see round prow and stern in silver wake To starboard, larboard, gulfward, crestward rise Afar and near, round, round on every wave, Innumerous Ariels and Prosperos, And all the gloam and lustre of all lands, All camps and courts, all huts and palaces, And all that build their worlds for all delight, Forever greatening with eternity; SHAKESPEARE 6 1 And ours the ship, and ours the captain strong, And ours the vision, — vision of high things. Farewell, ye hither powers, the while there works The unadulterate air my soul has breathed From o'er yon thither far Shakespearian main! Not merman, mermaid, Neptune's hoary form With mythic trident of the aery wave, Are luminous and rhythmic as yon shapes I see arising, plunging, dashed with foam Effulgent with the light of farther suns. Farewell, ye hither powers! sweet books adieu! Ye sands and foam and narrow shore farewell! We will sail outward to the open sea. BEETHOVEN'S SEVENTH SYMPHONY. An Impression. poco sostenuto. vivace. T^HE dead Christ starts; the dual pall of night Falls wrested from the Galilean's face; Death flees before imperious hosts that chase, With swords of splendor and white spears of light, Wan wraiths of agonies and lingering sight Of scarred Golgotha in divine disgrace. The red dawn quivers, and the burthened space Strains with the passion of immortal might. 62 BEETHOVEN'S SEVENTH SYMPHONY 63 ALLEGRETTO. The dead Christ arises; the grave is defeated; the stone Is rolled away by the angels; from far empyrean Tumultuous ravishment, mystical flutterings, White whirlwinds of cherubim wondrous and worldward flown. On one skyward billow of song the trium- phant Judean Moves into the glory and gladness and wafture of wings. PRESTO. PRESTO MENO ASSAI. Waking Easter lilies lift' their eyes To the weeping gaze of Magdalene. 64 BEETHOVEN'S SEVENTH SYMPHONY Pageants pass bewildering between Dawn and morn, and all things seem to rise. Mystery casts off its dim disguise; Power leaps from the luminous Nazarene; Life has won ; the leaves of hope are green ; Love's rose blossoms; earth is Paradise. finale: allegro con brio. Heaven is emptied of angels ; the jubilant legions, Mists of sweet minstrelsy, orient shadows of care, Whirling and swirling encircle with paean and laughter. Strong with the infinite strength to the infinite regions Rises the Crucified, swift on the tides of the air, Drawing the worshipping ages in ec- stasy after. EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN. NEVER saw him face to face, — This poet with his generous grace. Yet oft have I beheld his soul In singing robes, while through me stole A subtle joyance that renewed My faltering faith's ascension mood, Whose sweet persistence made it part Of inspiration's life and art. A mystic voice within me saith: "He lives and sings; who cries out 'death'? 65 CHINA. IMPERIAL China, immemorial born, Beyond the offing of the Orient seas! Thy natal star flamed in the misty morn Of far-off centuries. We of a later day and younger age Touch hands on thine, and feel the fee- bling beat, The languor of thy lessening heritage, Life's flow from founts effete. Our ears are toward thy pleading unto us, The lisping of thy hoarse and hoary lips; 66 CHINA 67 Thy semblant music trembles ominous From faltering finger-tips. In vain thy veteran search ; now would we guide Thy feet aback to Paradisean streams, Whence softly flows the blest ancestral tide Of thy Confucian dreams. Beside those fountains pure thou shalt not rest And dull thy passion unto poppied mood; But drinking deep, of primal power possessed And childhood's sanctitude, Thou shalt press onward toward the farther goal, Maturer being, mellower strains repeat, Matutine music of the larger soul, Redemption's chorus sweet. 68 CHINA Thou shalt attain the land which grace endues; Its white noon dimless, its camellian airs Hymnic with hope, and all its avenues Love's golden thoroughfares. Forward, O China! for the Christ appears Upon the shadows of thy centuried loss; And thou shalt find, through all the widening years, Thine Eden at His Cross. ARS ARTIUM. I. A N architect builded a palace of stone *^ Of exquisite form and hue, With bronze colossi and pillared zone Of porphyry purpled through. The master boasted and proudly swore That unto the end of time His house should endure, and forevermore Resound with his praise sublime. 69 70 ARS ARTIUM Passed swiftly by a year and a day; An earthquake shattered the place; The palace of splendor tottered and lay A ruin in earth's embrace. II. A sculptor, centuries long ago, Carved out of the marble white An Aphrodite, with face to show The glory of Love's delight. The people wondering worshipped, bound By spells of the goddess fair, Foam-swathed, wind-wafted, with roses crowned Queen-Beauty of earth and air. ARS ARTIUM ?I The sculptor and people ceased to be; And afterward ravening came A vandal horde from the northern sea, And cast her to wreck and flame. III. A painter captured a rainbow and wrought, With pigments of Paradise, The Virgin Mother of Christ, and caught The wonder-light in her eyes. The picture hung in the altar glow; And through the cathedral air, From vaulted roof unto tiles below, It hallowed the place of prayer. 72 ARS ARTIUM But time was ruthless; the colors waned; Half- veiled seemed the face devout; The shining features grew dark and stained And the vision faded out. IV. A great musician, his genius fired To passion's supreme degree, By heavenly orchestras inspired, Created a symphony. It swept from a hundred instruments A whirlwind of consonance; The throngs, bewildered with art's ascents, Were held in ineffable trance. ARS ARTIUM 73 The morning came with impetuous mood O'er-breaking the night's demur; But the music was not for the multitude Without an interpreter. A poet fashioned a song and gave, Like Noah's ultimate dove, The soul of his soul to wind and wave; And swiftly the bird of love Found rest and covert for welcome wings, And nested in gladdened hearts; And nourished her brood of quiring things, Song's numberless counterparts. 74 ARS ARTIUM The poet vanished; but sweet and strong, In ravishing roundelays, The poet's soul and the poet's song Live on in the world always. SONNETS. 75 THE SONNET. THE poet's burnished glass of thought Held up to Nature's daily lure, Whereon each pageant mood is caught In radiant miniature. Life's near inclusive form of things ; Love's narrowing circumference, Wherein Grief's gathered glory springs And Joy's delights condense. The ancient song of poet tongue; The modern lilt of poet lips ; Th' elect of Art, forever young, Unknowing time's eclipse 77 A I. THE TREE AND THE ROSE. GREAT green tree grew 'neath the south- ern skies O'erspread with great white roses; every- where Upon it, like a thatch, with gleam and glare, The flowers lay thick and fragrant. In surprise I gazed, and marked a bush beside it rise The twain entwining, each the other's care, Tree strength, rose blossom, an expanding pair- Together one rose-tree to poet eyes. 78 THE TREE AND THE ROSE 79 Thus is it, my Beloved, my White Rose! God set thee at my side, and thou dost climb, Mixing with mine thy soul's ascension power. Each through the other to completeness grows ; And my life's glory is my Rose of rime, And my life's gladness is my heart in flower. II. LIKE LOVE IN HEAVEN. J3ELOVED, I would have thee love me true As lovers do in Heaven, whose opened eyes Behold, without the flesh that falsifies, The ageless soul in beauty fresh and new. Beloved, I would have thy spirit view Th' enlarging life which deep within me lies, And know that what will make thy Paradise Hereafter now is thine for thee to woo. 80 LIKE LOVE IN HEAVEN 8 1 My life is thine to take and take again; My heart is for an Eden unto thee; And love shall never lose its golden prime. Oh! love me now as thou wilt love me then, Seeing me somewhat as the angels see, Knowing me unimpaired by loss and time. III. LOVE'S IMMORTALITY. T3EL0VED, shall we change as we grow old? Shall this great love of ours that every- where, In look, in word, in daily tender care, Burns like high-leaping flame grow ever cold? If we but knew years hence we should behold This same sweet glory, that our lives would wear These same bright crowns of joy, our hearts could bear Each cross, each loss, by deathless love consoled. 82 love's immortality 83 Sweetheart, I fear not, knowing love's true sign, Knowing love's changeless law and ageless life; And since thou art God's perfect gift to me, And God is love, our love is love divine Which cannot alter, but is ever rife With deepening proofs of immortality. IV. MY SERAPHIM. /VyiY books, dear comrades, each a constant guest Beside my humble hearth; a waiting quire, Minstrels of thought to sing as I desire; The master-host of time all dispossessed Of earthliness, in garb immortal dressed; My sacred seraphim that fan the fire Of smouldering power, till 'neath their grace aspire White flames of poesie on skyward quest. 84 MY SERAPHIM 85 Chant on, life-bearers, from your thrones of peace ! And I will strike my lyre; perchance my soul, Set to the measures of perpetual prayer, May add one note to your rich harmonies, And, through the service of your bounteous dole, The fadeless robes of inspiration wear. V. SAINT MICHAEL'S. ,r "T WAS midnight, and I stood outside the door Of the great hospital's benignant close; The fevered city lay in deep repose; I rang; a sister answered; with heart sore I faced a bed where flesh and spirit tore At shame's red robes 'mid death's con- vulsing throes: I flashed hope's skyward lights; upbraid- ings rose Infuriate with lust's demonial lore. 86 SAINT MICHAEL'S 87 At last I stood without; the morning's beams Shone on the portal; but a horror stole Across my brain working revulsion's spell. Behind each door what is? and what man dreams ? I loathed the forced achievement of my soul — Culture in holiness through sight of hell. VI. DAY-DREAMS. T^HE best I know is what I may not know, My day-dreams, psychic auras that sur- round My spirit's inmost working, being ground And sky for all the trees of life that grow Bearing ideals. Thus does God bestow My mystical becomings 'neath all sound, All sheen of earth, where soul and sense unbound Are penetrant with Heaven's creative flow. 88 DAY-DREAMS 89 I know the best is what has never been; And next, the knowing, — faith's foresight of things, — Cities of God for them who dare to trust. So silent grow I, sing I, feeling kin To oracles, apocalyptic kings, And every soul that climbs o'er death and dust. VII. TENNYSON. T^HE Laureate Alfred, chief of Arthur's knights, A greater than the mighty Lancelot, Clomb up the thousand steps, and, faltering not, Clove through the portal of the fiery lights. He gazed unswooning on the awful sights Across the swath of mystic flame, and got Eyes to the naked chalice, waxing hot With poet passion on immortal heights. 90 TENNYSON 91 His soul, white-heaten in the Muses' fire, Seven-times refined passed on and did prevail ; And now, in samite of his pure desire, On open vision glows the Holy Grail. Victorious knight amid great angels strong! We will ascend thy thousand steps of song. VIII. PRINCETON. |3 EPOSEFUL spot horizoned by the stress Of thunderous cities! Here stern Nature seems One verdurous peace, an atmosphere of dreams, With ever-lilting languorous caress. Yet everywhere a laborous mightiness, A fine vibration, youthly anvilled, streams, — Felt music, muted clangor, wisdom's themes Turning to vantage for the world's redress. 92 PRINCETON 93 This is the armory of intellect Where swords of thought are wrought for lords of strife, The while th' enfreedomed spirit beats down brawn On the last lines of darkness, stands erect, Grasping the vision of dominion life, And cries, "The Day!" across the reddening dawn. LYRICS. 95 I. THE SAME OLD LOVE. T OVE is ever young. Albeit Life feels time's growing age, Albeit Life sees earth's slowing wage, Love has the same melodious golden tongue. Love is ever strong. Albeit Life feels time's hea vying cross, Albeit Life sees earth's levying dross, To Love the same imperial hands belong. 7 97 98 THE SAME OLD LOVE Love is ever glad. Albeit Life feels time's galling chains, Albeit Life sees earth's falling fanes, Love's heart keeps fresh the early joy it had. Love is ever true. Albeit Life feels time's ailing lyre, Albeit Life sees earth's failing fire, Love is the same old Love forever new. II. A SOUL'S RETURN. i HEARD a strange but familiar song Above the noise of the hurrying throng. It drifted out of a window set With heliotrope and mignonette. It seemed the voice of Love's oracle, A heavenly music that earthward fell. It was my own wrought melody; It was my soul come back to me. 99 III. ATMOSPHERE. T WONDER so! Such holy sweetness wraps my soul, An atmosphere that takes control Of all my nature, claiming all In swift abandon to the thrall Of Love's deep ebb and flow. Hold, doubting heart! This is a soul become a breath For my soul's breathing. My soul saith: ATMOSPHERE ioi "I drink thee, sink thee into me, Thou kindred spirit mystery, And mixed with me thou art!" Stop, questioning sense! I yield myself entranced and still, And let this subtle aura fill My being's rapt interior frame, Whose quivering ecstasies proclaim Love's secret evidence. O wonder, cease! Nor space, nor clay is barrier To this caressing breath of her, That wooes my heart from hour to hour, Imbues with Love's ethereal power And Love's imperial peace. 102 ATMOSPHERE Sweet spirit lore! This is the truest, realest Of thought, of love, the essence blest That blends in full communion Two mated beings into one, — One soul forevermore IV. THE CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE. '"THE night is nigh, The sea is high, The dashing waves o'erwhelm; But all serene, With vigil keen, The captain 's at the helm. Across the sea He pilots me Through gulf and foaming ridge; I know no fear, For he is near, — My captain on the bridge. 103 104 THE CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE In mist and storm, His beaten form Moves all the long night through He knows the path The great ship hath, And steers her straight and true. Across the sea He pilots me Through gulf and foaming ridge; I know no fear, For he is near, — My captain on the bridge. I have no chart Nor seaman's art For ocean's thoroughfare; THE CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE 105 But undistressed I calmly rest, And trust my captain there. Across the sea He pilots me Through gulf and foaming ridge; I know no fear, For he is near, — My captain on the bridge. O soul astrain On life's rough main! Thy Captain's in command; And, tempests past, In port at last Thy bark will safely land. 106 THE CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE Across the sea He pilots thee Through gulf and foaming ridge; Have thou no fear, For He is near, — Thy Captain on the bridge. RETROSPECTION. 'THE years are grim because of me, Before and after, Judgment saith; I go the way of misery And tread the purple grapes of death. Offence is all forgiven, but still The crimson scars in heart and flesh Are mockers of the later will And start the olden pangs afresh. 107 108 RETROSPECTION It is not love I failed to win; It is not unrewarded strife; It is the man I might have been That makes the tragedy of life, VI. GENESIS. T^HE outlet of eternity Into the sweep of time; Gateway through which life's great to-be Has issuance sublime; Love's tidal mystery set free In history and rime. First measure of the music far The centuries prolong; The melody of morning star; The moon's empyreal song; Creation's fugue oracular; World-preludes sweet and strong. 109 I IO GENESIS Primeval glow of Providence Upon the quickening spheres; Foregleams of grace auroral whence Shall glide the widening years; Sunrise of life's immortal sense Across earth's misty meres. Beginning of the winding way The feet of Love have trod, — Love's bruised feet, by night, by day, With priestly sandals shod; Breaking the path for men astray That they may mount to God. VII. THE SILENCE OF GOD. I SAT at the feet of the King, With face toward His face divine; "My Father! answer my questioning! Speak Thou of the things to be mine, The kingdom to which I am heir, The wealth and power I shall share!" But God was still; I bowed my will; in H2 THE SILENCE OF GOD And through me there softly stole A sweetness the heavens forspend; And somehow I knew I shall know when my soul Is able to comprehend. The silence of God is His loudest word. O Love! I have heard, I have heard. VIII. MY FATHER. (~\ GOD of rest! Thy watchful care has safely kept My soul from evil while I slept; Thy guardian love has been my shade; Thy healing touch has strength conveyed; In mystic sleep destroyed Thou hast The disenchantments of the past; In life renewed, in frame reborn, I wake and praise Thee with the morn, O God of rest, My Father! 8 "3 ii4 MY FATHER O God of dreams! By night Thou hast revealed to me Chambers of precious imagery; The fresher air, the farther lights, My native world upon the heights, Dear faces of the earlier time, Loved voices with the olden rime. I view my hope mount from eclipse, I hail my heart's apocalypse, O God of dreams, My Father! O God of light! When morning's beams my slumbers break I feel Thy presence as I wake; About me floats an atmosphere All crystalline, most pure and clear, MY FATHER Ix ^ Charged with Thy tender Fatherhood, Through which I sense th' Eternal Good In pulsings of high purpose beat; And all my soul lies at Thy feet, O God of light, My Father! O God of life! From sleep and dreams I turn, I spring, To greet my being's Sire and King. Refreshed and strong I now present Myself a humble instrument By which Thy covenant may pursue Its course of love the whole day through. Accept me, let the joy be mine, Of service 'neath Thy yoke divine, O God of life, My Father! Il6 MY FATHER O God of love! What blessed guerdons Thou dost give! The grace to grow more sensitive To every rhythm; the subtle power To see the far-off full-blown flower Of every seed; the ecstasy Of secret comradeship with Thee; The glory, only faith may win, Of working out what Heaven works in; O God of love, My Father! WHEAT AND HUSKS. 117 I. FRUIT OF THE THRESHING. THE wheat of the soul! God's grain! The seed of centuried sowing, The fruit of celestial growing, The harvest of infinite pain. For each inspiring thought, And every conception high, Descends from the azure sky, By heavenly forces brought. All things in the soul that are good Are out of God's bountihood. 119 120 FRUIT OF THE THRESHING The earth is a threshing-floor; Upon it the harvest lies, A mixture that signifies The perfected fruited store, When under the flail's laborious art The wheat and the husk dispart. II. THE NEED OF THE HUSK. f~\ HUSK, thou art more than husk! ^^ The wheat had need of thee; Thy worth is the destiny Thou gavest the day at dusk. Without the husk there had been no wheat, No bread for man to eat; Strong life had withered, sweet love had failed, And all the world had wailed. Without the husk there had been no flower To all thought's processes of power; 121 122 THE NEED OF THE HUSK No ship sea-riding from shore to shore; No word sea-piercing through cable's core; No muscle's venture; no spirit's climb; No engine's motion; no poet's rime; No restful temple; no laborous mart; No science, history, or art; No children's laughter; no mother's song; No manhood's glory that rights the wrong; No home, no state, no hope, no faith; But only desert and brooding death. III. THE RIME OF THE REFUSE. npHE poet is true to the glume; * No cheating of negatives! He sings of each thing that lives And goes unsung to its doom For sake of the world's advance; He sees what the refuse is, Its mystical dignities, And rimes it with high romance. Each speck of dust has a fleck of sky That's open with bluest blue; 123 124 THE RIME OF THE REFUSE And he who raises unveiled eye, And gazes fast therethrough, Beholds the heavens close-pressed to earth, And vanishing things' eternal worth. IV. LOSS AND GAIN. T^HE poet of Nature discerns somehow, In psychical moments when The very zodiac seems to bow And seizes bewildered ken With signs and symbols, whose lights rehearse What is and shall ever be, The changing prose of the universe One changeless poesie. I sing of the husk: I sing of the wheat; The chaff that is trampled beneath men's feet; The grain that is garnered to make life sweet. 125 126 LOSS AND GAIN The things of the subtle soul are twain, The fruit for loss and the fruit for gain; All things are the husks that are not the grain. THE HUSK'S GLORY. T SING of the wheat for what it will do; I sing of the husk for what it has done; And, praising the wheat 'neath the harvest sun, I give to the husk its glory true; And thus is the poet's moment-music one With Nature's centuried song forever new. The husk is grown for the wheat; The evil exists for the good; Methinks the archangels understood When man met his first defeat. 127 128 THE HUSK'S GLORY Some prophets have fathomed the mystery- Beholding what was and is to be. Some souls have entered Edenic gate Since Cherubim swords were set With holy forbidding flame, And wandered over those meads of Fate, Faced Love by his side who let Man's glory dismount to shame. VI. THE STARTING OF SORROW. f\ VENTURESOME poet, who hast betimes Strange vision of things past earth's despair, Be cautious, immure thy mystic rimes! Thou may'st not all thou see'st declare, — How man and Fate met face to face, In Eden's most exalted place Hard by the tree of destiny; How Deity did there permit The finite 'gainst the Infinite * To set unbending brow and knee; And why th' Eternal Power withdrew, When Nature's golden age was new, 129 130 THE STARTING OF SORROW And all the sin and sorrow started By which the earth and sky were parted, And all man's high desires Became but smouldering fires, For Love's superior pain, And Life's ulterior gain, Let God and Time explain! And keep thou still, Thou seer of good and ill ! VII. GOD AND THE WRONG. T COUNT on God for wherefore and whence,- God's omnipresent omnipotence; The selfsame Maker of men and stars And star-laws and laws of the soul, And cycling centuried calendars Unchanging toward selfsame goal Beknown, since the primal founts are one And every shine is sign of the sun. I will not rail at the wrong; 'Tis husk for my golden wheat; 131 I32 GOD AND THE WRONG I count it such and will beat It loose with a threshing song; Then gather my grain, and for joy of it Will sing of the husk's sure benefit. VIII. THE LAW OF THE EVIL. f~> OD somehow gets the good from the ill ^^^ And works His unhindered will; And evil's law is the law of Love, Love dauntless, knowing the Power above Must bring each right to its might and throne And crown it God's chosen own. I speak of law. 'T is a child that speaks With knowledge only from inner moods And deep impulsions that rise and rush 133 134 THE LAW 0F THE EVIL Imperious, as one finds who seeks And hears the spirit's beatitudes Across the unfathomable hush; Nature's proclaiming spell From deep-set oracle; The rhythm of sweetness set to awe, Inseparable love and law; I give it trust, I will not deny The voice of God in earth and sky, And my soul's voices as true as His, Life's inborn prophecies. IX. FATE AND PAIN. f WILL not rail nor complain At fate or at pain; I see them husks to my grain. I cherish them answers to needs, Time-servants for destiny's seeds, — The wheat for eternity's mountains and meads. I sing of the threshing-floor, The floor of the soul; Here lies the harvested store; For what? Thou knowest the goal 135 I36 FATE AND PAIN O God! But how hard is the way Of beating and bruising, Of pain and confusing, The only means for the sway Of right over wrong, Of wheat over husks and the day Of garner and song! X. A SONG OF THE MYSTICALS. T SING of the mystical wind That symbols high energy; The sweep of the unconfined; Inbreaking of powers that be Paroled from Love's unbeholden surge, Across the heavens' close verge. I sing of the magical sky O'er-rushing its azure meres In waftures that purify Earth's vaporous atmospheres, 137 138 A SONG OF THE MYSTICALS Space, time, and nature from gardens above, The constant blowing of Love. I sing of the musical might, The motions of spirit that flow Down realer realms of delight Than ever the senses know; The cadence of severing holiness, Love's tenderest storm and stress. I sing of the miracle grace That fanneth my threshing-floor; I yield to its tropic embrace, I throw it my bruised store, Heaven's purging that perfects my freedomed grain, Love's victory through pain. A SONG OF THE MYSTICALS 1 39 I sing of the mythical breath; The Life of the Holy Ghost, The Power that is death unto Death, Love unto the uttermost; The covenant winnowing Passion of God Reclaiming the soul from the clod. XL BREAK OF THE DAY. HPHE hour 'of the soul appears; Tis Love's time, break of the day, That ushers the golden years And metamorphoses clay, When pain is no more, — not hence In nebulous paradise, But here, in earth's circumference And under these azure skies; For the bruising time below Is past, and the wheat is free; And only the upper breezes blow In winnowing ecstasy. 140 XII. THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE. T^HE soul full-used Has once been bruised As th' unseen Thresher willed; Its fullest worth To Heaven or earth Is that which has first been killed. The brightest hopes For skyey slopes Are those that have been consumed; 141 142 THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE The highest joys, Time ne'er accloys, Are those that have been entombed. The greatest lives Where service hives Are those that have once been slain; The sweetest songs The world prolongs Are those that have come through pain. The Living Breath Alone through death Makes man and Nature real; Thus he who dies To self shall rise And reach his soul's ideal. XIII. THE TOUCH OF THE SKIES. •[ SING of the winnowed soul; I sing of the yielded will For what God would have it be, Life set unto Love's high goal, All Heaven let loose to fill Existence with ecstasy. The flail shall never be felt again; The bruising ends, there is no more pain; What force ennobles and purifies Shall always be the touch of the skies, 143 144 THE T0UCH OF THE SKIES And never the earth's sharp instruments, But ever the heavens' most sweet descents; Love's blowing and flowing increasing sweet And ever the soul's increasing wheat. XIV. THE CREED OF LOVE. T OVE'S wind makes chaff of the husk And blows far away the chaff; The dawn descends into dusk, And out of my joy I laugh, And sing as my wheat falls back to me, Made fit for the granary. The days of threshing are o'er; The winnowing time is past; The wheat from the threshing-floor Is safely garnered at last; 145 I46 THE CREED OF LOVE Stored up for seed and a later spring And a greater harvesting. The wheat of my soul is mine Because it is God's. 'T is He Who planted the grain divine And builded the granary, Who gathers destiny's seeds With all the heavens in song, Makes love the creed of all creeds And man's heart sweet and strong. N0\ ■ n a