Class relight N° l^ic COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr IN THE BLUE BY AIDNA VAN ORDEN 9 Ube 1knlcfterboc??er press NEW YORK 1913 Copyright, 19 13 BY AIDNA VAN ORDEN TIbe IRniclJcrbocfeer ipress, IRew K?orft /S£n -v. Never descrying an end in his infinite, Beats as he may little bird in the blue/' CONTENTS PAGE The Sea-Gull ..... i The Shore at Night 2 Art and Nature 4 Life at Fifteen 6 Love's Bringing 8 The Riddle 9 The Riviera 1 1 Ancestral Home . »3 A Christmas Song , . r5 Toward Light . '7 Daphne. . i8 Canoe Song . 20 For the New Year 21 Message-Rose . . 23 Voyagers . 24 Sonnet . . 26 Notre Dame . 28 In Napoli . 30 The Gypsy Heart . . 3« Love Song . 33 page A Summer Souvenir . . . . -34 The Gift 36 Sonnet .... 57 A Frozen Waterfall 59 In Later Days 42 A Dream Portrait . . 46 Sapphic Verse . 49 Light .... 51 Memory . . =^4 Bon Voyage • 55 Norway . . 57 Scotland . 58 England . 59 Japan . 60 The Marseillaise . 61 Death 62 MoNA Lisa to Leonardo . 63 A Summer Day . 65 From Horace's Odes — Advice to Licinius . 66 Sonnet . • . 69 VI IN THE BLUE THE SEA-GULL MY soul rides out with thee, Out on the stormy sea, O wild affinity. Bird in the blue! Poising strong wings on high, Seeing but waves and sky. It is so far to fly, Up in the blue. This stormy life of mine And that wild life of thine Both seek the self-same sign. Out in the blue. Both search infinity — What that far land may be, Beyond the sky and sea. Beyond the blue. THE SHORE AT NIGHT THE beach and little waves and wide, wide sky. The half-grown moon and floods of silver light. No modern world, ambition, power, nor praise Can touch the stillness of the primal night. Many another wanderer on the sand Of this same shore, 'neath this same shining sky, Has sat him down to dream in wild content By moon and sea in ages long gone by. 2 Many and many has the moon looked on, Coming and going like the springtime grass. Here did a mighty city stand of yore — These things are nothing as the aeons pass. And thou beside me! As I speak thy name, Among thine own an honored name enow, No name hast thou in face of this wide world, And I am nameless too — just I and Thou. We have found peace to-night in this our life, There is no harm here if we sleep or die. We shall lie safe against the good to come Here on the sand dunes 'twixt the sea and sky. 3 ART AND NATURE WE give our lives to art, to paint anew The graceful form or brilliant evening sky, The meadow and the clouds, the rose's hue. The sheep and lonely shepherd passing by. But oh, how poor all art is when we see The thrilling, throbbing blue of summer noon. The dimpling water and the wind- blown tree, The purple sky and great gold Harvest moon! 4 We give our lives to music, dreaming yet Of harmonies for ever old and new, Some lovelier song the world can ne'er forget, Some melody to live the ages through. But one day I was walking by the shore, And far across the blue and living sea A little clear-toned bell rang — Never- more I knew as then the joy of harmony. thrilling world of color, light, and sound! 1 look and listen till my soul, too small, Can drink in no more beauty, dazed and drowned In that blue fire of sunlight whelming all. LIFE AT FIFTEEN THE world to youth is like a place illumined and made gay As is a rugged landscape by the glory, Not of the sun descending in its fury Which gathers all hot passions from the fiery glowing day, But of the rising sun when with its soft and gentle ray It touches with its holy kisses all rough places bare And throws its warm and rosy light so sweetly pure and fair Across our path, as youth's glad spirit on our life's rough way. 6 But when the new day quickly passes on to noon's bright height, As do our lives from their bright rosy dawning, — For short, so short, is life's brief fleeting morning — The soul sees clear and understands in its new stronger sight Much that was hid or tinted by the dawning's rosy light; And as the rays grow strong and warmer so the passions' fires Of love, of good and evil deepen, and all soul's desires, Until at last life's restless day fades into peaceful night. LOVE'S BRINGING OLOVE, for many a weary year 1 waited for thee, 1 feared thou might'st be straying near But passing o'er me. I prayed that I might know at last The joy compelling, That peace and comfort which thou hast All joys excelling. But Love — thy only gift is pain, No storms abating, O Love, please give me back again My days of waiting. 8 THE RIDDLE THE riddle of the world is wondrous change Of birth and death in endless wave and tide, Dust that was sun and will be sun again. Land that was sea on some lost ocean side; Life that was low in crystal or in worm, Life that was flame of some self-con- scious soul, Low shall be high and highest low again. Birth, death, and change will make the cycle whole. 9 Motion is life. Is never rest to be Nor last still death of planet, star, and sun? What is the end? The children may not see — The Riddle's primer is but just begun. 10 THE RIVIERA OBOW of sunshine bending round the sea, O curving shore with palms and olives drest, O little isles, the home of saints of old, In thy warm lap give weary pilgrims rest! Ye ruined castles watching on the hills Were warders in those days of long ago When Saracen and pirate swept the sea And filled the fisher towns with bloody woe. Ye saw the cruel wars of robber lords, The passionate hates of Guelph and Ghibelline, II Madonnas saving and Madonnas blind. And miracles of hermit cave and shrine. But ever thro' those long two thousand years The fisher folk lived simple lives and free, The warmest sun and bluest skies were theirs And ever on the rocks that blue, blue sea. O blessed land! O real Earth Paradise! O thou sweet shore, a stormless azure bow. Grant wanderers an eternal summer- time. Safe from the mistral and the Alpine snow! 12 ANCESTRAL HOME WHAT are you dreaming, little Syrian maid. Of waving palm trees and long level sand. Of camels coming homeward to the night, Familiar sights and sounds of your far land? Born here, you say, and never saw the East, You in whose eyes the mystic Orient reigns, A face which Persian Omar might have sung And little fingers made for henna stains. 13 Your mother knows these things, you say, and oft At sunset, when is time to kneel in prayer. She turns toward Mecca and the holy East, Craving the Call thro* the still evening air. Once more she yearns to feel the burning sun, Not the pale sunshine of this Northern clime, Once more to carry the stone pitchers down To the great well in the cool evening time. So you sit dreaming, little Western born, Into the sunset, letting your soul roam Away across the desert, midst the palms, Feeling, you know not why, so far from home. 14 A CHRISTMAS SONG O'ER Juda's hills in quiet sleep, Where shepherds wild their charges keep, Clear came the call through silence deep. The sweet refrain with glad acclaim Swelled with the glowing roseate flame And angels' snowy wings unfurled, — "Sing, sing, glad heart, the Child has come. Has come to still the weeping of the world." Oh wondrous night of long ago When Heaven bent to Earth so low, She listening with rapt ear to know The Master's will, in mystic calm Lay lulled in silence' holy balm 15 So still — till hark, the heavens ring, "Oh greet the Child, the Child has come, Glad welcome to the Babe Divine we sing/' Those poor Judaeans long ago With opened eyes could see and know And find the Child in his manger low. Oh might our eyes this Christmas night See flaming skies and the angels bright And white wings flashing as we hear The anthem swell, "The Light has come, Now steal away, O shades of darkness drear!" i6 TOWARD LIGHT A S quiet after storm, ^'*' As sunshine after rain, As day must follow night, So rest comes after pain. What if the path is dark nor any ray Of light we see — the shades will flee away. Oh the sweet hope we have That sometime by and by We '11 rise above the clouds And lift our heads on high, While on our faces falls the waiting peace And the wild dreaming of the night shall cease. 17 DAPHNE WHY does gentle Daphne wear Rosy blossoms in her hair, — Rosy buds with dewdrops gleaming. In a garland fresh and fair? For the winds all perfume laden Bring their message to the maiden In her spring of happy dreaming Rich and rare. Wand'ring down the grassy way With a dancing sunbeam's ray On her cheek so faintly blushing Kissed by many a sunshine fay, She is near the Spring's heart-beating, She is answering to the greeting Of the earth and sky all flushing With the May. i8 spring of life and Spring of spring. Sweet and clear the Voices ring, Gaily calling the death-saddened World to raise her voice and sing. Leave the shadows and the sighing, Come with Daphne, All-defying, See the earth with May-life gladdened Blossoming. 19 CANOE SONG OVER the water the swift canoe Glides in the morning bright, Sing as the paddle in silence dips. Sing as the silvery water slips Dripping in gleams of light. Sing — for warm is the sunshine clear. Sing — for youth and warm life are dear^ Sing the earth in her springtime here. Past is the beach of the Silver Sands; Swirling the light canoe The stream leaps far from the hills above The great blue hills where the cloud- shapes move, Robes of the Manitou. Sing — for heart and arm are strong, Let the swell of the swinging song Sweep the heights of the hills along. 20 FOR THE NEW YEAR BACK to the shadows where the aeons sleep, We gave it whence it came The worn old year, But we the labor of its life must keep. The good is added to the marching time, The evil is with God for good sublime, O weary year thou 'st earned at last release, Peace be with thee evermore, aye peace. Let for the new a joyous welcome glow, For hope is ever young While life is life. So very old the ceaseless ebb and flow, But still we, dreaming, think with each new tide That higher on the shore the surges ride. 21 Each year more bravely work the laborers skilled, Each year draws nearer to the work fulfilled. And thou, new year. May all things great and good with thee prevail. We give thee joyous greeting — hail, all hail. 22 MESSAGE-ROSE I F you love me. dear, wear a rose to- night, If violets — no; I will watch and wait for my whole life's light In the flowers which blow/' And see what he writes at the letter's close — "Not the violets, love, but the rose, the rose!" 'T is of crimson deep and the petals fair Like soft velvet fine; Ah, red rose, the glow in my heart is there As it is in thine! For the maidens dead are the roses white, But not one who lives as I live to-night. 23 VOYAGERS A STEADY stream of travelers to the sea, The wondrous sea of Death with noise- less tide, Across the land of Is and Long Has Been, Ever pour onward to that ocean side. Love is the meeting of the voyagers lone, A touch of warmth, a clinging human hand To be a little comfort on the road To the lost children through the un- known land. 24 And some there be who dream that far away Lies the White City of the Journey's End, A vision of the greater worlds to be, The reason for the unknown way we wend. They see the gleaming of a wondrous flame, They walk with faces lifted to the light. Among the crowds who blindly push and fall. They are the gods for whom there is no night. 25 SONNET FREEDOM from world-old tyrannies I see, Freedom from myth and those old childhood fears, Dread of the phantom dark and death who rears His head avenging. A great liberty Seems in my grasp. 1 even seem to be One with the gods, for ever in my ears The voice is ringing, " Rise, for he who hears The Idol-Breaker's call — he shall be free!'' He shall be free. Was ever dream so wild! 26 The freedom of the world lies just the same Beyond this prison, and the god, turned child, Cries for thy comfort. Let us play the game Together, thou and I, my pain beguiled. What does life say to thee, O little flame? 27 NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL of Our Lady, throned on high! From Paris' busy streets and garish light. The great cathedral's aisles so vast and dim To rest and dream our weary souls invite. Upon the pavement falls the sunshine bright But soft and warm, dyed with a ruddy glow From the great stained-glass windows' varied height. Marking the hours with steady hand ■ and slow As through the drift of storied centuries they go. 28 Through the still air there floats a low sweet chant, Borne down among the rows of pillars tall, It rises, sinks, and softly dies away While to the listening soul the ages' call It seems, and, peering thro' the shadows' pall, He looks to see the glint of martyrs' wings And see the saints come from their long-home wall. It is the Spirit of the Past that sings, And back to long-lost days our dreaming souls it brings. 29 IN NAPOLI SANTA LUCIA! Clear across the wave, The purple water and the golden light, The fisher girls are singing 'neath the moon A song in blending with the velvet night, Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia! O Napoli la bella! In a dream Enchantment holds us by thy curving shore. In one far land the lotus was the charm, But here 't is music holds us evermore. Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia! 30 THE GYPSY HEART O GYPSY hearts that have no rest for longing Who wander through the roads of all the world, Most lonely where the greatest crowds are thronging, Aye in the open for your tents are furled; Ye never find a faith to match your yearning. Ye never touch the gold at Rainbow's End, Ye never know a love that has no turn- ing. Nor meaning in the wistful way ye wend. 31 But ye have joy in your eternal roam- ing— Ye know the beauty of the unbought day. The nights are yours, the love cry in the gloaming, And that great luring road — the Gyp- sies' Way. 32 LOVE SONG TN thy far home beside the azure sea, ^ I wonder if thou 'rt dreaming still of me, For I can think of nothing else but thee. The world goes on, day after day the same. Yet world and life to me are but a name, My life mounts up with thine as flame with flame. What matter if a great sea rolls be- tween ! My heart goes out to thine by ways unseen. For this is surely what our Fate must mean. 33 A SUMMER SOUVENIR THE fragrant petals of a faded rose Lie hidden in my "treasure box'' with care, A bud which died before it could dis- close Its heart's full beauty to the summer air. Only a bud, a little harmless flower. Of all sweet babes most innocent and fair, Yet it has caused me quite a troubled hour In cogitating — why 1 put it there. 34 What mem'ries sweet in your faint odors bide Of dance or drive or stroll in shady dell? Why need you now so close your secret hide? It was mine once. Tell, tell — why won't you tell? At last the drawer reluctantly I shut, All I can do is give free fancy scope, You tantalizing little rosebud — but Next time I 'W write it on the envelope. 35 THE GIFT WE seek that life some wondrous gift should fling Into our waiting arms — some strange great thing, We know not what — we ask the years to bring. But as the time goes on we dimly see The only gift of fate to you and me Is life itself — the very years which flee. 36 SONNET BE YON D the veil that shadows death and birth, In those strange days of other lives gone by, In some wide land of sun and flaming sky We shared our days of sadness and of mirth. Perchance 'twas when the Morning of the Earth Made all things young and tides of life ran high, We loved our love and sighed our heart- break sigh. And gave and took from life what life was worth. 37 The when or how's forgotten, but I know That I have known you, dear, and loved you there Beyond that Sea of Change. Half memories through My heart are stirring at your speaking— so, Your look, your perfect understanding where The rest are blind. Do you remember too? 38 A FROZEN WATERFALL THE little stream that murmuring on its way, Went gladly leaping like a happy child, Was met by Winter's icy breath one day, Which checked the joyous course of water wild. Now from the height where foaming torrents leap, Caught and festooned in many a dainty fold, Curtains of finest lace-work drape the steep Whose wind-blown loops the tasseled ice-bands hold. 39 Cushions of deep and softest velvet white Are piled in many a rest-inviting heap, But e'en though tempting to the weary sight, We may not rest — beware the long snow-sleep. And when the sunlight's golden rays adorn Pillar and arch, great dome and fretted cave The tints of flowers that on the brink were born Remain and the white purity re- lieve. Flower spirits which so love their summer home That they unheeding winter's chill- ing wind, With colors soft deck their loved streamlet's foam. Which still and cold the Frost-King's fingers bind. 40 There might the fairies hold their half- year's court, In many a palace grand and stately hall; Of all the marvels by the Ice- King wrought, The greatest is a frozen waterfall. 41 IN LATER DAYS "\\T^ ^re the gods," we cry these ^ ^ later days, The gods have fallen, child tales are they all, Jehovah and the Buddha and the rest, Phantoms fashioned by the mind of man And changing with the changing of the age. Old gods are dead and no new gods are born. Nature the mighty brought us here, we say, And we the mightier take her work in hand To much improve thereon, for she is blind 42 And very faulty so her work has been. But we the Intellect, the Reasoners now Shall change the world and change the breed of men To beings who shall live unnatural lives By measures which we make to measure by, Our standards and our Rules of Right and Wrong; By Science and the Higher Reasoning. Turning from Nature and her inborn lore Binding and fast'ning her and stifling back The knowledge brought us through a million years Of pain and love and war against the world — As if one man with his threescore and ten Could match against that ghostly an- cestry! Futile it is and very childlike as 43 The babe who beats his mother with soft hands Thinking his way is better than her own. The mighty mother, Life, whose many babes BHndly she bore, not knowing how nor why Their future nor the reason for their birth, Is always striving for a better child, Perfect and nobly formed and fit to live And hold his own in the rough war of worlds. Experiments she tried and some were good. And some not to her liking she let die, As wandering from her thought of use- fulness, As lacking in respect to her known law. We are no gods, but just a child of Chance, Developed from the life-blood of the world 44 Down the long ages of experiment, From the first quickening of primordial ooze. And Life will warm us in her breast while we Keep to her laws nor kill ourselves with pride, Dreaming our morals better than her own. Dreaming us greater than our Million Years. 45 A DREAM PORTRAIT A shadowy face Half seen through dusky masses of warm hair, Soft in the tender touching of a dream, With eyes so deep and dark that light is lost In their far depths As black upon the snow absorbs the sun; And such sweet lips as children love to kiss On which pure innocence will ever lie. A saintly face, Yet not an icy saint — for she is life, Life, O my dream-girl, in its fullest glow Of quickenmg fire, passion flushed, and still 46 So pure a spirit. The shadowy veil is drawn away and then The bright lips smile upon me as I gaze, The while her clear pale cheek will flush as if She too were pleased. Her mouth is childlike still, for neither sneer Nor word of harshness nor of hard'ning hate Has passed it, but her eyes are old, so old. For they have seen The sorrow of the world and grievous sin. Those Mighty Ones have touched but left no scar For she has healing for the wounds they make. O my fair Dream! I know that I shall keep that spirit face To cheer my way, as straying in the dark I try to wander back upon the path. 47 A dream — but life; Dark shadows shroud her — yet she is most real; She does not live — yet truly lives for me. If only I may ever understand • As well as now All that her glorious eyes would say perhaps — Who knows? When we have felt our way beyond And come at last into that Place where all The lights are lit, But I may find her, O my dream, my love, And she will take me by the hand and say, **Come, dear, with me, for you and I have known Each other long." 48 SAPPHIC VERSE SAD is our fate in these new days of science, Seeing the world in its true naked mean- ing, Torn are the veils of all our lost illusions, Showing the real truths. Love was divine in our old days of dreaming. Lovers touched hands in life's soft misty darkness, Known of the gods and fore-ordained for ages, Loved in illusion. Love is naught now but a compound of atoms 4 49 Bound hard and fast by chemical at- traction, **1 love'' and "thou lov'st" an affair of physics, Fit for the chemist. Where is the romance of the storm- tossed sailor And those brave ships, the Hearts of Oak of England? They are all gone, all gone to make a way for The Lusitania. All soon will go, poetry of the unknown, Amethyst clouds fading into the clear day, But still remain the interstellar spaces Left for exploring. 50 LIGHT OUR yearning, sweetheart, lasts while we are living, Our yearning for life's colors. We have joy In that great shadowy, many-sided prism. The wondrous prism of the living world. The light shines through it, making many colors And just our glimpse of beauty makes our joy. We yearn because there is so much of beauty, We know that there is more than we can dream. 51 I see your soul, the sea, the sky all azure, I see the sunshine on those great white birds, I see in blending green and gold and crimson, The iridescent splendor of the world! Love, we are dreamers in this world of color. Colors of beauty, mystic meaning, joy ; We see beyond the violet of the prism, The hues increase with our new powers of vision; — And as we gaze we are dazed and drowned with seeing. Hush, whisper now, if we were not so blinded. We'd see all blend in one white light, — that 's God. Could we see that we should be freed from bondage, Freed from all tints of passion, feeling, thinking, Colorless all in the white light of God. 52 This will not be until the Prism's broken, Then we shall see Direct the Light Divergent. 53 MEMORY FOR three short months I knew you and your love, Forbidden love which did not dare to own Itself in words, and so we looked and dreamed. And in our dreams we were no more alone. Now you are gone, and I try hard to sing; The world looks dim, the lights grow less and less — I hope you kept some comfort from those days, For all that I have left is loneliness. 54 BON VOYAGE ONE June day he went away, On a longed-for holiday, On a steady Cunard ship For the Mediterranean trip. Sailing now toward Italy All the wonders there to see. In that land of faery gold, He will see the temples old Roman gods held long ago, And those hills so green and low Clustering round fair Tivoli Where Horace wrote his poetry. In a funny little train He will cross a dusty plain, Coming down to Naples gay. Lying round its sapphire bay. 55 Here the day is always noon, Here one's heart will stay in tune, Here the people's soul is song. Mingling with the merry throng Mem'ries of his life will go, In a dream he '11 only know Joy to hear the harmony And feel the charm of Napoli. With a red Baedeker book. Shepherded by Father Cook, He will muse in Florence, where O'er rich past and treasures rare The Duomo's shadow falls, Weird Savonarola calls. Venice too, the Island Queen, Offers many a sumptuous scene. Set with strange love plays and grim. All Italy is waiting him. Oh, what tales he '11 tell when he Will come back sailing over sea! 56 NORWAY HAIL to the Northland, hail! Whence came the wondrous tale Of Siegfried and Baldur Where lived the Valkyries, Bearing o'er bloody seas Heroes to live at ease, Aye in Valhalla. 57 SCOTLAND THERE 's a land of purple heather, Where the bagpipes skirl together. Where 'tis always misty weather, Land of Robbie Burns. 58 ENGLAND A VIS ION of green fields and soft thick trees, With little pink -tipped daisies in the grass And over there the gray of castle walls. The children bring the Maypole through the glades, These grave-eyed, happy children soon to be Their England's Bulwark, lovers of a land Of dignity and noble memories. 59 JAPAN OWORD of iron in a sheath of velvet, ^ Land of many strange and curious contrasts, Unsurpassed in courtHness and culture, Unsurpassed in warfare. 60 THE MARSEILLAISE VISIONS of old France draw near With the thrilling Marseillaise. In that marching song we hear The echo of those breathless days When France, flushed with victory, Led the world toward liberty. 6i DEATH HIS coat and cap are hanging on the wall, But he will never need them any more. He died three days ago. We buried him Deep in the fresh, brown, sun-warmed earth of May. I do not cry or grieve, 1 only think In mute surprise — "This thing is very strange.'' 62 MONA LISA TO LEONARDO O LEONARDO, though by Fate's decreeing, The painting over, you must stay away, Your soul comes here, the spirit of your being, I have you with me all the long, gray day, A phantom to the phantom life within. At night 1 hear you speak. The words you say Are toneless echoes spiritual and thin, I in my darkening room sit breathless there Tuned to your touching like a violin. Your joys I know and all your world of care. 63 I say I have the best of love's strange case, The best of you in this communion rare. But oh, the aching for your arms' embrace, To have you near me and to see your face! 64 A SUMMER DAY HAPPY, hazy, summer day, Lazily spent 'neath willow trees. By the murmuring water-way Lulled by the caressing breeze. While the river on its way, Sings an endless soothing lay Gentle as the summer day. Near, the cows come down to drink, There the weary sheep dogs lie While their sleepy charges blink As the shining perch swim by. Lying on the grassy brink, List'ning to the bob-o-link, Thoughts calm as clear skies I think. 65 FROM HORACE'S ODES ADVICE TO LICINIUS LIVE a moderate life, Licinius, Neither always out to sea Pressing in thy eager passion, Nor too closely hug the lee Of the dangerous shore in storm time. He who seeks the Golden Mean Safe shall flee from want and squalor Nor to envious riches lean. Oftener the storm wind lashes The strong pine-tree in its might, Tallest towers fall in ruin Greater for their former height, 66 Mountain tops are struck by lightning Oftener than the valleys low, Highest places catch the fury Of the stormy winds that blow. Well-prepared, the brave heart hopeth In cruel Fortune's gathering frown. When she smiles, he fears her changing, Fears to lose his golden crown. Change, yes change, for aye and ever, As the winters come and go; Harsh they are but soon are over- Then the summer flowers blow. Now thy fortune may be evil. Thus it will not always be, But the future coming, coming. Hides the better things for thee. Gentle touches on the cithern Sometimes wake a silent Muse, Oft Apollo lays his bow by Nor does his good gifts refuse. 67 When the times are stern and saddening In thy spirit do not quail, And before propitious breezes Shorten thy too swelling sail. 68 SONNET OFT in uneasy sleep we turn and sigh. Troubled by phantom shape or ghostly fear. Or in the dark by some dread Presence near. Then, like a child, whose little moaning cry. Whose face all flushed and pillows all awry, And on his cheek the staining of a tear Show that he dreams, we lift our heads to hear The voice he too has longed for make reply. He played too hard all day and so have we, 69 vaaum The sun has been so strong that in our sleep The turmoil and the heat we cannot flee. But softly through the room's dark silence deep Her voice steals in its soothing accents blest, *' All's well, beloved. 1 am here, so — rest." 70 015 930 695 1