LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Chap. -._-.... Copyright No. Shelt.S..(o.Co M^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. y.: it Ube flbusic of the Spberee BnJ> ©tber Vcxscs Bertram Xincoln Sbaplefgb ^^ '^l.^^^U •V -V^ ' 6'f^c^ harmony is in immortal souls But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in^ we cannot hear it,'' \ "Se.. Copyright 1896. Bertram Lincoln Shapleigh. In Preparation : /!ftl25tlcal Sismbolog^ ot Color* ^be Goming ot tbc JSrlDe. ^be Celeetlal 2)rama» doi\tei\t^. Page " The Music of the Spheres "... 7^47 Parti. The Meeting .... 7 Part %. The Vale of Tysus . . .21 Part 3. The Return • • • • 33 The Quest of the Beautiful . . . . 49 "VkQ ]du^i6 of tl\e gf^l\efe^.'' JPART /. The Meeting. Back in the early days, when the soft airs The great god Pan had piped were not forgotten, When reeds taught music to the charmed ear And all the wealth of sound was pure and new As infant in man's heart ; back in the days, When every maid was wooed with silver strains Of pleading flute, and answered to the suit In golden harp chords, when the air of Greece Breathed with the unborn race of later gods ; Back in the distant marvel age of earth. When man beheld the world as very fair, And loved to lay his breast on nature's breast And learn of her. In that far distant age There lived a youth born in the sunny wilds Of woody wildernesses. Here he came To early manhood learning as he grew The secrets that lie deep in nature's heart And which she grants to those who dwell with her. He came and went throughout his woody home Companioned with its beasts and birds, and oft Those wondrous people who inhabited The woods and streams or dwelt up in the hills, And beings whom man's eye hath seldom seen, Came forth to consort with him. In this way He with the spirit of the ancient Pan Had long dwelt conning all of music's art And from the old god many things he learned And many secrets which throughout the world No man now knows and few could understand. From out a reed cut from the forest growth He fashioned him a pipe like to that brought Into the world by Hermes who had taught The old Egpytians how to make the Nile Soft and sweet with music. Note by note Our youth cut out the frets until he reached The octave where sound doubles on itself And is complete. He learnt what secrets lay Concealed within his art, and how the scale Explains the universe and dwells concealed In every soul. Companioned by his flute He went his way through wood and over mount. By day he tuned his melodies to play The call of birds, the laugh of merry streams, The stir of woody ways, the startling gleams Of sunlight tumbling down all through the green ; And every happy thing that joyed in life Found echos in his playing. Then at night He purled his notes forth to the moon and stars, And to the spirit of the universe, And to the presence of the unseen gods. By day he wove his strains from five clear notes, At night two more crept in, — the two that sound Only to ears that have grown wise to hear, — The two that may not sound in all the world. From town to town he went and taught the dance, And taught the songs of water nymphs and niads, The carollings of Bacchus and the chants That afterwards became the mighty hymns Heard in Olympus. Then ofttimes he'd play What human hearts in these our later days Conceal so well. And those who heard him sat Wrapt in the spell of hearing till they found 10 Springing to music, leaping into sound, What they had treasured in their hearts for years. And their sweet secret melted into tears. One day, when tired Phoebus homeward drove His fiery steeds down the steep western sky Into the thunder palace rising stern And mighty all along the water's edge, Our hero sat piping a merry glee To tune the flying feet of dancing maids Who tripped the jocund vintage hours along. All through the golden locks the autumn light Played games of forfeit where the smile kissed smile Then hid itself away for fear it might Have blushed through all its burnished gold ere while. And when he ceased to breathe upon the flute It seemed the music still played o'er his face 11 And ran to eddying dimples, while his mute Unspeaking voice in his clear eyes found place. Many a wreath and garland had been strung For him, and many maidens fair and young Had crowned him Prince Apollo, — many eyes Amourously tender lit the ecstacies Of his outpouring song. His pleading flute Had taught a sad key to full many a lute That virgin fingers plucked at in the groves, And his soft playing mingled with the loves Of clustering songsters carolling aloft In mists of perfume, where so warm and soft The breeze woos out the sweetness of the flowers. Thus as he sat and poured his melody Upon the throbbing air, the sun went down. The stars one at a time unclosed their eyes And set their watch, but ere the first appeared Two star bright eyes lit through the twilight hour 12 And told their portent clearer than had e'er Come omen from revolving orbs on high. Those maiden orbs revolved about his soul And beamed down love from its meridian. ****** Stars on stars above, Stars on stars below In lake and rivulet reflect their light ; Yonder is love of love, Here we only know Reflected love as day reflects the night. Stars burn deep in the sky, Stars burn deep in the sea, Higher than we may reach, deeper than we may feel ; Love though ever so high Ever so low must be, — Free to the grasp of our strength, bound by no zeal. 13 So played he on and wove the magic woof Of night,and heaven, and earth, and love, and sound, Wove himself into the magic mesh, And wove it to the pattern of a song Those eyes inspired, — and he wound it round About her soul, until the night, and heav'n. And earth, and love, and sound became alive And lived in her as all things live in love And have a body in the object loved. Each of her senses answered to the call Of liquid lulling notes that in their fall Shimmered in seas of color. Slow her will Clasped in its arms with an ecstatic thrill The joy of love. Then like the gentle play Of apple blossoms on the breast of May, There came a hovering fragrance and the touch Of spirit tenders that would open such A world beyond life's idle, wasteful stir. U Her five low senses slumbered, yet there were Two others making, two that see and hear The soul of what the rest are grasping at ; The two that touch with truth and hold the power Of sending a prompting from within when comes A gleam of truth along the other five. So lay she listening to him as he played, Listening in the way that love would list To love that was not spoken, so she wist Of music which he felt but could not play. For human ears to hear in human way. And she made answer in the same strange way Love has of giving answer unto love. The notes pearled forth like drops of molten dew That had been tears before some angels kiss Had turned them into music, soft they came Seeking the answer love alone could give. And when his music ceased she sprung to him, 16 And threw her arms about his neck and hung Devouring his presence, each fond glance Linked in the others, while four lips, love dumb, Lacking a word, resolved themselves in one. Then drawing back as though to mark the man In his entire wholeness, and to view The form and features of the one she loved. She let her words leap forth as fountains spring Over a mountain turret, coming down With bridal veil of mist and jewels bright And with a rainbow girdle at its zone. Her rich, sweet voice gave forth its sparkling words Like rapture light that leapt from out her eye. " O, love ! what are these melodies thou play'st That others may not play, how may'st thou tune Thy flute to touch two notes that never sound With other's playing? See, 'tis like our love Which holds the earth and earth-made pleasure in't 16 And something somewhat higher, like two notes That none but us may know, two notes that hold The power of resolving all the rest/* He took her hands and drew her down again And asked her how she heard him play these notes She had not known before, for it is oft As great to have the power to behold As 'tis to have the skill to give it out. ** How do I hear? How do I know these notes? They pierce me like the glowing of thine eyes Like sob of sorrow and the smile of joy ; Or like the pang of grief and thrill of love ; — And when I stop to listen they are gone And thou hast wandered on to other keys.'' He answered, ^* Loved one, thou hast let two notes Creep to thine ear that others have not known, Thy love hath wooed a heavenly echo forth 17 From out the melody that sprang from earth, Thou hearest what thou hast not heard before In other's playing — for no instrument Can give them forth, as no man's finger yet Hath found the fret that can provoke the sound Thine ear hath caught. No, nor can I command This poor pipe which I hold to bring them forth, — They had not sounded for another's ear. They are the silent tones which none may hear, That none may play save in their soul of souls ; They hold the secret of the scale concealed Within themselves, as life and death contain The secret of the universe we see And will not give it up to man till he Shall hear the seven harmonies that play Through all the spheres » Five keys my fingers know. That is the scale the gods allow to us. Who mounts to seven sees somewhat beyond, 18 And by the aid of them should understand The language of the gods, for grief and love Are not more powerful than these two notes When rightly found and heard in silent way. Thy soul hath clasped the form of my own soul ; The music of my life rings in thy life ; Joy and sorrow in a molten stream Flow to the mould of love. Thou here hast heard The music of the soul which sings within, Where all things are resolved in perfect bliss, And where I place thee as my spirits bride." And then she knew that she had found in him. By some deep way, what others might not find. And she went forth with him, and as he played, His music wove the hours of many days Into the woof and texture of their love. And as he tuned his secrets on his flute She answered by response from eye and lip. 19 The fleet winged months flew by, and she with him Wandered afar throughout that mystic land, Which was to be the playground of the gods When they should leave their cradle in the east. O'er many wooded mounts they took their way, And rested 'neath thick roofs of Clustering vine; — The mount would be a gods abode someday, And where they sate would rise a wayside shrine. The path their steps found out would someday lead The pilgrim on his quest with shoeless foot, The conqueror upon his prancing steed, Or some lone minstrel wand'ring with his lute. They sought the vale of Tysus where there dwelt An ancient hermit who was known afar As great and good. In his lone habitude The twain would seek to share his company And let his wisdom sanctify their love. 20 PART IL The Vale of Tysus. * Twas evening in the valley when they came Over the uplands, down across the fields. The great trees stretched their shadows out as though Their spirits had crept forth to gently reach Over the flowering turf to close the day With benediction. Then the sun went down, And like a mighty bomb that bursts and sends Its fiery fragments through the air, so now Through all the sky there shot long streams of gold, And soft hued surfaces sailed high, begemed And fringed with flaming brilliance. Here it seemed The rapture of the dawn blushed forth again 21 And cheek and cheek of night and day lay close Burning and blushing, holding near again What morning took away. Through the half glow Of twilight, silent raptures sped to man. Leaving the earth and sky to find his heart And lay their beauties cradled in his breast. One silent palm against the wide blue sky, The new and nacent moon, and one star under, Long deep stretch of ancient woods, that lie Like some great sleeping army stored with plunder. The damp sweet smell of the evening's hush, The rich smell of damp and the cool peaceful pause, In the west the firebrand's kindling flush At the funeral pyre of the day that was. Her throne on earth, Her coronal on high. The mother-queen of night Is drawing nigh 22 Inveloped in the robes the silent earth At dew-fall wears, Half tints, soft hanging o'er the hearth Of day, and pairs Of star beams looping up the many folds Of her prophetic garments dimly hued, With just the spirit that the flower holds Deep in its color, which the twilight wooed To blend with all the tender shades that lay In its soft music which no pipe could play* Afar the night takes stand — Womanly grand. Looking how far, how far, From earth to star With its deep virgin blue ; Kissing to sleep the eyes Of tired and true Virgin mother wise. 23 Down in the valley at its farthest end, Some stern revolt in nature had thrown down A lofty clifif, and piled the mammoth rock Against a brother clifif, and round them grew Large, ancient trees, that held the boulders back From rolling down the incline to the brook That found its way by many secret turns Across the valley. Here amid the rocks High piled, an entrance led into a cave, Wide and capacious, running back into The mountain body. Here the revVend sage Had his abode. Here years had grown him to A harmony with rock, and field, and wood. So that he seemed their voice, and spoke in tones As pure and simple as the mountain's brook Tells to the flowers gathered on its banks Of mountain glories, and the heights above, Or as the ancient forest trees bend down And hold soft converse with the springing shrub. 24 Here with this man the twain let pass their days, And love grew full beneath the holy shade Of such a presence. And on one great night When all the heavens spread themselves o*er earth With such resplendance that it seemed the hour Would force the meadow flowers to awake And throw their petals open to the stars, They wedded, and the holy, soft-breathed vows Of their united souls, fell on the air Like some star-perfume dropped by spirit hand. The evening breezes wooed it o'er the fields And down into the trembling stillness of The valley, where the little brook run on As promise that all else would wake again. And know what had passed near them in their dreams. The year rolled round, still o'er the sacred vale The wondrous flute notes fell, still through the air 25 The words of love were wafted too and fro. But she had found some want, and in her face There grew a wistful look, as though the soul Quested some treasure, doubtful where it be. She had no speech to say what she would say. She did not name her loss, for she knew not The meaning of it nor ,yet how it went. Days passed until she could no longer bide In silence — now must she confess her woe. Softly she came, and kneeling down by him Sought his kind look through eyes that had grown dim With tears. How could she tell to him the truth? How would he answer? Then she took his hand Held it in hers until he felt the thought Of trouble in her. Bending low he laid A kiss upon her brow, and bade her speak And tell him of her grievance. Then she bowed 26 Her head upon his knee, — looked up again Into his clear bright face and said, ''My dear. There are two notes I can no longer hear, Thy strain seems dull, thy song all incomplete ; Thy flute speaks not such things as once I heard. I listen, listen, and the farther off Seems every strain to go that once did throw A magic chain about me, held me fast Unto the sweet notes as a part of thee. Now you play up and down and mark the scale Of silver notes with gentle rhythms, but there,—- There is its ending, and strain as I will, I cannot reach to hear the charmed strain Thou once gav^st out to me; and in my heart I feel in losing this there lies some hint That I have also lost some part of thee. Dearest, take up thy pipe and play for me The music of our meeting hour again/' 27 Over his youthful face there came the calm, Soft hand of resignation, plucking out The tender bloom, and leaving in its stead The tranquil sorrow love-loss ever knows. Such blanched pallor as spreads o'er the man, Who, flying to the bosom of his bride Presses his lips on hers, but finds that death Has kissed her first. Slowly he raised the pipe And slowly, softly crept the soundings forth. First played he as he did the hour he came Across the mountains to the valley where He first had met her, then he piped the same Gay, tripping measures and the same bright airs That set the beatings of the dance apace, — That vintage hour in the autumn hght. Then came the melodies that he had spun That evening as they first gave eyes to eyes, 28 And voice to voice, and lips to lips, such-wise As lovers do in their first ecstacies, — At length 'twas done. But no, she had not heard What he had played as he had played them then. Merry and sweet they were, these tunes of his. But lacking, O, so much they once possessed. He took her in his arms and gently said : *' It was by those two notes I wedded thee Because thou had'st an ear and heard in this. My playing, what no other ever heard, I knew thou hadst the power to also know The corresponding soundings in my soul, — And this it was that linked us man and wife. Thou cans't not hear these notes ; some veil has flung Its folds about thy sight, and now no more Thou knowest me." Silent they sat, no word Could dare find voice, at last he took her hand And holding the fair fingers tried to smile, And then went out," — leaving the flute behind. Left alone she threw herself upon The current of her tears, and let them lead The way to consolation. Starting up, She called his name aloud. He could not hear, — - The wood birds and the mountain wonders now Engrossed his soul. The wood-gods marked his way ; The strange companions of his childhood's days Whispered about him as he passed them by ; Many a sorcery of nature sought To win him back to consorts of the past Where he roamed free among the mystic folk. A year had passed. Still dwelt she in the vale. The sage consoled her,'- — tended her so much As she had needs. Her wave of sorrow now ao Was crested with a joy and she had smiled, — As stricken brides may smile upon their child. Her child she held — her child — the joy that came To slay forgetfulness of other joys That had been hers with all their sweet delights. And in the child she found a unity Of life and death, of rapture and of pain, — It was love's little self born to the world, The child of joy and pain as love must be. Hanging upon her neck by chubby arms To hold her low and tender to love's self. As love must teach to soar and yet to bend, And not forget how wisdom lieth low, And near the heart of things. Thus as she sat. She idly took the pipe that once she'd heard Pleading its master's love, when he had come And found her in that golden vintage time. 31 She took it up and fingering o'er the keys Gave breath to it, and wooed the silver tones To sound for her. Now note by note she found The leadings to some little melody, That pleased her in the finding, and the babe Looked up, and wondered at the plaintive tune She voiced thereon. Then came the ancient one, And smiled to hear the beauties she had found Untutored on the flute that had been still So many days. 32 PART III. The Return. But how had fared our youth? Where had he wandered, and what other joys Had held him far from where his joy had died? Far had his path led on, until he reached The busy mart of human trade, and there He mixed with those who came and those who went, And sought to find what happiness in man Caused him to value life. Yet where he went There came no one who wore the word content Upon his brow. He heard the poets read How woman was the glory of the man, And though the earth were lost and she were gained As his eternal prize, the loss were well. The having all complete. Yet he met not The man who had so found his total want In woman's love repaid. 33 Among the priests He went to hear the wisdom of the east, And questioned them of love, and if man found On earth such answer from another soul As would content him from all other want. And they explained how when two souls shall meet Whom God intendeth shall be one in love, They blend, and make the broken arch complete. How woman is the answer to the man ; How he is but a symbol in the half. Requiring her who shall fill up the sign And make it read at once from first to last, A perfect thing. She answers as the rhyme To ev'ry act of his. So they grow one By blending, mixing, fusing, setting forth Alone such difference as is revealed In rhyme and rhyme, or as we may behold In word and tone, in silence and in sound. For music is the smile which silence bears 34 Upon its sweet calm features, when its heart It rapture stirred. So woman is the light And music of man's life when in his heart Love wakeneth. Alike in complement That fills the round each had begun alone, But which alone they never could surround. One to reflect the other so that each May see self plainer in the complement. But few attain to find this truth of love, They lose each other in the happiness That follows meeting, there they soon forget To search those depths that love hath led them to. If they would hold the glory of their love, It must have more than its own happiness To live upon.'' Some wisdom moved him here. Their words awoke a little sense of guilt, As though perchance the fault were not all her's ; Perhaps she understood as much in him 35 As he did of himself, and had he stayed He might have led her back to knowledge of What he had deemed she would perceive no more. At this he was determined to return. He would go back to her and try again If she could not perceive what once she did. He'd play again upon that pipe for her And surely she would some way find it out, — All this that she had failed to grasp of him ; Yes, she would know him now as he returned As he would fain be known, something would be In her that now would hear as ne'er before What he should sound within, and ask her soul To set the perfect harmony thereto. Thus thinking, and with ev'ry hope at heart. He found his way back through the mountain heights To the lone vale with eager tremblings. As love comes to the beauteous grave of love, 36 And calls love forth, and loudly calls her name, And bids love rise, for he is not yet dead, So came he now, and as he neared the shrine. Where to his way was made, at each new step His spirit louder called the name of love. And feared least love should not arise again To greet him, — would not hear his ardent voice However he might call her back to life. Around the uplands bordering the plain He took his way, and reached the heights above The rugged cliff, where he might see below, Or hear the voices as they rose to him. What sound is that he hears ? What gentle tone Is creeping up to him? Tis like the hush That rises from the earth at even tide, Or like the cool damp of that peaceful pause The earth sends out at dew-fall. It is like The voice of some rare bird that was possessed 37 Of human soul, and unto him it seemed The soul was like to woman's, and the voice Like some sweet wonder fallen 'gainst the earth In taking flight from some more royal star. It ceases, then again as though the joy Of singing forth its life could not be stayed, The notes spring forth. Enraptured by the sound He pauses in his way to hear them creep Up and down, and weave themselves into A melody in which there seemed to hide The spirit of some all unuttered joy Flowing through the veins of human grief; As though some tender spirit had resolved Its joys and its griefs into a song, Which fed upon the soul that gave it forth. What does he hear? What wondrous tones are these ? 38 Who sounds these notes, — these that no man shall find, — That none shall waken save the gods that hold Man just so much below them in the scale? Now it came to him that some wanderer Had likely passed that way, and so had stopped And played to those below, as he once played. As he once strove to play, but who played now Possessed a power beyond that which he knew. And drew a magic from the realm of tone He had not made to sound. Where had he failed ? Could he have sounded thus the hidden notes As yon sweet player does, would not her ears Have heard their fill of what they longed to hear Yet heard not? Might there not have been in him Some lack that held the music of his soul From reaching hers ; or might there not have been Some mute that muffled what he strove to sound ? 39 He pushed his way ahead down through the crags Until he reached the rocky precipice About the cave. Still nearer did he draw So that the stars might light for him the group That there were clustered. Nearer, nearer still, That he might see the player, who he was, And might behold her, were she also there. And mark how she would listen, if the strain Should reach her as did his so long ago. Softly he creeps so near that should he part The herbage that concealed him he would stand Plainly before them. What is this he hears? The light laugh of a child, some tender voice And sound of little kisses like to those The mother gently leaves upon her babe For fear of bruising it with too much love. He gazes forth. The mother's lips have now From kisses back to music found their way. 40 Music, that is love searching for a word, — And in her lap uplooked the little word ; The only word that love was meant to speak — Love that is silent and must fail of words. Note after note unwound her melody, As human bodies might unroll themselves Like mummy cloths and let the soul stand out, That if the next soul chanced to pass that way They should behold and know each other there. So stood she as the soul, and so he saw As he had never seen her in the past, As he had never known she could be seen. V ^ 'If ^ ^ ov TfP Whose arm was it that now encircled her With tender holding? Well she knew the touch Its gentle pressure gave, and silently She let herself recline into its hold. And bound that loving arm about her waist As 'twere girdle of her womanhood. *' Hast thou returned?'' ^^ Hast thou come back indeed?" Thus murmured she as though she spoke in dreams Where some lost ecstacy had come to her And tempted her to trust it all were true. " I have come back," he answered, " I am here. But did not think to find what I have found. Thus planned I as I came to seek for thee ; I said unto myself along the way, * She will be like the dawn that night has taught What day caused to forget, and when we meet I'll woo her soul to hear what mine would say And both shall break their silence with such song As once they knew.' But now I come to hear In thy sweet tuning what has been in me, What I prayed thee to hear, and thou, my bride. 42 Have given back myself to me in strains Such as I could not quite give out to thee. While I had sought that thou shouldst know me well And miss no depth of me, I was content To have thy love, meanwhile thy loving self Went undiscovered. Now how much I find. How well I know how thou hast fathomed me Since what I failed to make thee understand Thou hast discovered in thine own wise way. And caused me to behold.'* Then spoke the sage *' I have not known the bliss of human love, I have not mingled with the heart of man, And never woman shared her thought with mine ; But I touch souls with God and so may grasp The same truth that is law of love and earth. To know of God as we should know of him Sorrow must be our guide as well as joy. 43 As day to day gives speech, so it is writ The night to night conferreth knowledge. It Was sweet to dream thine hours in the arms Of each one's own desired, sweet it was And blissful to be near the one that held Thine utmost joy, but pleasure throws, unseen, Many a veil about the sight of those Reclining on her bosom, turns their eyes To view herself and lose the vision of That object which had led them into joy. So thou didst in the first reveal thyself Most wholly to the sight of thy beloved, And she with ardent, eager vision saw The beautiful and god-like part of thee. Then came the pause. Then love endured the bliss, Yes, the excess of bliss that held thee from The higher flights thy two souls might have found. The form and form, the touch, the look of each, The word, the presence made up what would be Content to each. Like to those men who place False idols up and bow to worship them, And bring them incense and all precious gifts As offering, is he who from love's self, Which is a spirit, turns and seeks to find His quest wrapt in the flesh, — like he who turns Away from touch of souls to touch of lips And is content to kiss the form he holds Nor seeks the surer, more eternal source. Fail thou didst to hold what thou had won And went away, then sorrow fell upon The soul of her you left, and through the night That reached between thy going and return, She grew to find the deeper source of life. And through her sorrow she found power to rise Into the knowledge of one step beyond Where thou hadst left her. Then there came a joy. In grief she bore this little child. Behold ! 45 How it would pluck the stars as though they were Like love and heaven so very near to it. This was the joy that taught her in a way No other joy could teach, what was the depth Of human happiness. Here lay the two, — The greatest sorrow is the loss of love. The greatest joy a woman's soul can know Lies in her child, and so again she rose Gaining the second step, and now she stood With understanding of the two great keys Of joy and sorrow, two that hold the sum Of human life. Thou hast returned to her And find her playing to the wondering babe What she had failed to understand from thee. Tis well thou comest." Then he took the babe And let it push its palms into his eyes, And who may tell what it awoke in him To feel their warmth. 46 In silence sat the twain. Only the little leaves stirred in their sleep, And sound of trees that in the upper air Leant cheek to cheek. High in the zenith shone The seven soft stars of the Pleiades. THE END. ^l^e Que^t of tl^e SekutiM. I feel the song I cannot sing, I hear the strain I cannot write, I see the flight I may not wing Through the dark night. II. There are long poems I cannot pen. Great apprehensions through me move, And my dumb being, without voice Pours out its love. 49 III. Rapturous is the kiss When Idea meeteth Form, From such love as this All earth's art is born. IV. In the scratch of pens, In the lap of brushes. What tremendous ecstacy As thought to substance rushes. From the master's spirit Art's great works are springing, We may hear it, see it, — In his heart the clinging. 60 VI. We may have his song, But much shall be missing ; We may read his love, — In his heart the kissing. VII. Something is strangely appealing, Something is lovingly near. Its pulse I am almost feeling — Its voice I can almost hear, VIII. Forever and ever appealing Till I bring forth in some way, All the wondrous truths and revealings That rise up in me today. «1 IX. The beautiful dream hangs low Like the veil o'er a saintly shadow, And the life I feel and know Is like August throbbing in meadows. X. The yearning, the longing has fled, I can sense the breath of the day, While I am surrounded and led Aloft by thoughts that pray. XI. Around me the voices of flowers. Before me lies unfurled The glint and the glamour and sunshine Of poes'y glory world. 52 XII. And over my day there settles As over a young god's youth The glow of that after-world That lies between us and truth. XIII. What bids me leap forth to the world, What fills me full of song? I ne'er have felt such power nor known That I could grow so strong. XIV. Is inspiration flowing in And bidding me to speak, Or is my soul just bursting forth Forgetting I am weak? 58 XV. I know the infinite rapture, I cling to eternity, Till the stars in their deep abysses. See down the abyss of me. XVI. Press my lips on the lips of heaven And gaze in the suns that role. Till I thrill with the joy of the angels And throb with the first great soul. XVII. My spirit has lost its bondage, And rising from its clod It trembles through the heavens And copies the thoughts of God. 54 XVIII. Man stands as the great God Stands back of all glorious things, Not the poem, the painting, the song. But the truth which they word, paint or sing. XIX. Not the moon, nor the dew, nor the stars, The flow'rs, the wood, nor the river, Nor any beautiful thing Is God, but he is their giver. XX. The beauty lies not in the work But deep in the heart that divined it. The world is so very fair Because God is standing behind it. 05 XXI. Beauty touches the soul Because it is born of feeling, Some soul was striving to speak , And the work was the soul's revealing. XXII. For all souls were born in beauty Nor lose they the sense of their starting, Forever it glideth with them. Forever their birth is imparting. XXIII. A light o'er the objects they pass That adds to the radiance of it ; A knowledge of something in us That is one with the beauty we covet. 56 XXIV. The Eternal Good is in man The semblance, the form is without ; Art is the being of man Everywhere searching about. XXV. For color and form and tone, Feeling what body expresses In all its movements and beauty. Its grandeur and grace so much less is XXVI. Than what man would have man to say, Than what man would show unto man. He seeketh some means to portray What he feels of God's wonderful plan. 67 XXVII. And man's deep joy in beauty Springs forth from the beauty in him, The eternal and endless beauty Which no change cometh to dim. XXVIII. The beauty throughout the earth In nature's perfect plan, And every delightful worth Are rays shot forth from man. XXIX. We read of the word-made flesh In which God's spirit stirred, But we never shall read man right Till the flesh has become th^ word. 58 XXX. The sum of all beauty lies In the glow of a pure woman's love For the love of a woman on earth Is the blessing of Mary above. XXXI. And this beauty, that beauty, all beauty, Dissect it, explain it who can? There is no measure of nature, The earth is the mirror of man. XXXII. All that is found in art Is found in the human soul. The songs of the human heart Are weaving through its whole. 59 XXXIII. The tender growing of green, The passion and fire of red, The quiet hush of the blue When poppy time is dead. XXXIV. The anxious and restless yellow Leading its unending quest, Striving, forever striving. Yearning and leading for rest. XXXV. Forever and ever searching In a long and endless flight. Seeking for truth, not knowing It holds its own golden light. 60 XXXVI. The discord that waits to find peace, The one note that yearns o*er the rest Waiting one under to sound That it may repose on its breast. XXXVII. The fire repelling us from The blue arch we seek to enter, Ever the nearer to draw Into its infinite centre. XXXVIII. So sings each soul away. And the secrets it would be concealing, To the eye to the ear each day Art and nature are ever revealing. 61 XXXIX. Give me of dark death and dying, Till dying and death be done, Till the lives through which I am flying Shall bring life's victory won ! XL. On through the sleeping and waking, The round of giving and taking. Whence we have come not knowing. Still toward the beautiful going, Out of the wonderful past. Out of the ages vast. Into eternal youth. On to the dawn of truth. XLI. Give me of dark death and dying Till dying and death be done ; Till the little lives I am living Merge into the Infinite One. 62 'tfi h/^M wn»i L^ i