PS 3507 
 
 .E1635 
 
 C5 
 
 1921 ^ 
 
 Copy 1 
 
 \\T 
 
 7m\ 
 
 
 >^-^^ 
 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago 
 And Other Poems 
 
 BY 
 ELOISE EARLE DEAN 
 
 0^^^xr^<Xk>^ ^ SfWiUz^ 
 
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 COPYRIGHT 1921, 
 
 BY 
 
 ELOISE EARLE DEAN 
 
 v©CLA653042 
 
 5NDEX PRINTING COMPANY 
 ATLANTA, GA. 
 
 DEC 10 1921 
 
'^Agatn 3 see as In ba^s of ol6, 
 TEy^* kif^^bt: <^^^ tl^* wl*^^ sparklltts wit 
 7\nb ^air of burnished sol6» 
 ytt^ motl^er's fair, fair face. 
 
 "Do niY mot^n 
 
CHRISTMAS OF LONG AGO 
 
THE CHRISTMAS OF LONG AGO 
 
 Oh, the rhymes and chimes and merry times 
 
 Of the Christmas of long ago, 
 When oak logs crackled on the broad hearth 
 
 And the fields were mantled with snow. 
 
 The walls festooned with holly and vine 
 
 And berries melting red, 
 While mistletoe hung in waxlike green 
 
 From the chandelier overhead. 
 
 The board was laid with damask rare, 
 
 The candles with prisms shone, 
 And rippling voices of children played 
 
 With the treble of age now gone. 
 
 In quadrille and Virginia reel 
 Fiddling Ned swayed to and fro, 
 
 And couples true to their warm, young blood 
 Drifted under the mistletoe. 
 
 With waspy waists and dainty feet, 
 
 In trailing brocade they go. 
 Like graceful vines at the blooming time, 
 
 Tripping the lightsome toe. 
 
 Oh, the world is running away to-day, — 
 See the crimson life stream flow, — 
 
 My heart turns back with a holy peace 
 To the Christmas of long ago. 
 
Six The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 THE MESSAGE 
 
 The crescent moon by a lone star 
 
 In a sea of ultra-marine, 
 
 Holds my eye like a magnet 
 
 Though street crowds surge between; 
 
 Oh, more than moon or evening star, 
 
 'Tis shepherds that I see 
 
 Listening to a thousand harps 
 
 In spellbound ecstacy. 
 
 The little town of Bethlehem 
 
 Slumbering in peaceful rest. 
 
 The new born babe in swaddling clothes 
 
 Close by His mother 's breast ; 
 
 Thrust forth your rays like spears of fire. 
 
 Show men Golgotha's tree, 
 
 Gethsemane, the crown of thorns ; 
 
 Shine, shine for Calvary! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago " Seven 
 
 A SONNET 
 
 The favored son who dreamed of greatness won, 
 
 Of heavy sheaves low bowing 'neath the sky, 
 
 The silent moon and stars and radiant sun 
 
 To do obeisance everlastingly; 
 
 His motley coat of costly fabric rare, 
 
 But stirred his brothers' wrath — ^to fury fanned 
 
 For they in him could nothing see that's fair 
 
 And evil-eyed that day his downfall planned. 
 
 A captive in a foreign land alone, 
 
 His spirit soared and knew no prison wall; 
 
 The nation tottered — famine sought the throne. 
 
 Prepared of God, he heard his people call 
 
 And swung the weight of empires dead to find; 
 
 The vision and the spirit rule mankind! 
 
Eight The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 THE INDIAN'S GRAVE 
 
 The tall oak trees with heavy umber trunks 
 
 Cast patterns on the mould; 
 
 The mellow cooing of a dove far off, — 
 
 A frisky squirrel fluttering through the leaves; 
 
 I stood enthralled, smitten to the heart 
 
 With the ravishing beauty of it all ; 
 
 And as I stood my eyes wandered afar, 
 
 And fixed on something bare and red, — 
 
 A mound of clay banked up severe and hard. 
 
 All through the years no grass nor flower had grovfn 
 
 To mark the resting of a gallant son. 
 
 The hunters missed this one, — 
 
 It was intact. A chief no doubt, — 
 
 For even graves do speak of their own dead. 
 
 Wealth lies beneath the clayey dome, — 
 
 But no — I will not tell. 
 
 Sleep sweetly on, thy treasures all lie unmolested by 
 
 thy side. 
 I will cover thee with cast-off boughs 
 Like a brush-heap, I will hide 
 My treasure. No alien foot shall 
 Trespass here; for I will buy 
 The field wherein it lies. 
 
 INSPIRATION 
 
 My spirit rides the waves to-day 
 
 And mounts the white caps high, 
 
 In childish glee slips through the spray 
 
 And leaps up to the sky; 
 
 My spirit rides the waves to-day 
 
 And sips eternity! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago f^e 
 
 'OLE MARSE 
 
 '*Put on de skillet an' put on de led, 
 I'ze gwine er cook some shortnin' bread — '* 
 Hush dat nigger, — ^whut ole marse sed ? 
 He's comin' down heer caze I done hed 
 
 Er feelin in ma bones. He ain*t 'er gwine 
 
 Hu't nobody, he nebber do, yer mine 
 
 Dem black eyes ob his'n, shoo-oo-oo! 
 
 Dey looks yer thu and thu ! 
 
 An' when he gits angry dey moves uprike, 
 
 Jis' lak er sarpint ready to strak, 
 
 An' den I sizzles an' wivvers wid fright, 
 
 Same es er tree dat's hed de blite, 
 
 I feels myself jis' skin an' bone 
 
 Rattlin' in de night win' all alone, 
 
 **Put on de skillet an' put on de led, 
 
 I'ze gwine er cook some shortnin' bread — '^ 
 
 Sh! I done tole yer now, hard head, 
 
 Shut up 'bout dat skillet an' led, — 
 
 Whut ail yer nigger? yer ain't 'spect folks 
 
 Runnin' on wid song an' jokes. 
 
 Wid me hit's diff'en don' yer see, 
 
 Caze marse an' missis dey rais' me; 
 
 I slep' right dar by Miss Georgiann 
 
 An' when she wake, right dar I stan', 
 
^en The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 She say: *'Git me some water mammy please, 
 
 Ma froat am dry an' dat 'ar breeze 
 
 Frum de Norf so stiff I shivers, 
 
 Close de winder an' pull up de kivvers, 
 
 I'ze sorry I wake yer, mammy;"— 
 
 An' she wuz de born image ob Marse Sammy. 
 
 'En Miss Georgiann wuz a babe, her foot so small, 
 
 I tuk de hul foot in ma mouf, heel an' all, 
 
 Caze I hes er mighty 'daptable mouf; 
 
 Ole marse he laf an' say, "On ma loife 
 
 Cindy, youze cas' er spell ober dat chile," 
 
 Caze she aint whimper all de while 
 
 I nuss her 'cep she's hongry or colic or sompin'. 
 
 An' she grow up putty sho' an' sich rompin,' — 
 
 '*I'ze gwine er cook some shortnin' bread, 
 
 Ma dona lubs shortnin' bread, — " 
 
 Youze gwine git us in trouble treckly z'l sed, 
 
 Good Lawd nigger! 'dars marse comin' 'round by 
 
 de shed. 
 Hes necktie stringin' on hes white shirt front, 
 Hes coat tails er flyin' an' dat 'normus grunt, 
 De ain't many folks sez es much in er day 
 Es when he rais' liissef an '' 'Ugh um," dat way. 
 Hes hat res' dar on hes haid dat high, 
 I'ze min ob de chu'ch steeple strainin' ter de sky; 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago -Eleven 
 
 He'z gittin' ole now an' hes ha'r so white, 
 
 Lak ole miss silber, thin curls blowin' light; 
 
 But dar ain't nobody eber git de bes' ob him 
 
 Wid dem long white ban's an' him so slim, 
 
 ''Put on de skillet ah' put on de led, 
 
 I'ze gwine 'er cook some shortnin' bread, — " 
 
 Sh! dar he come, ben' yer haid low 
 
 Ober dat shattrin' cotton row, 
 
 Ain't yer got no manners? Ole miss train me, 
 
 Caze she wuz caishus es she could be, 
 
 He rule dis place an' dat am sho ! 
 
 En' whut do a nigger wan' dat's mo' 
 
 Dan er good warm house an plenny ter eat, 
 
 De physic ef I'ze sick an' er comf'ble seat 
 
 Right ober marse an' missis in de chu'ch, 
 
 We wuz all dar — de debbil wuz in de lu'ch. 
 
 I ain't nebber fergit dem lessens ma chile, 
 
 When I nuss Miss Georgiann all de while; 
 
 Miss Georgiann marr'd an' gone dez yers, 
 
 Dat big sojer man, honey, scuze dez ters. 
 
 Things ain't lak dey use ter be. 
 
 But I lubs ma white folks an' dev lubs me. 
 
Twelve The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 BH0D0DENDB0N8 
 
 (In New York) 
 
 The rhododendrons are blooming 
 In the old Maroony wood, 
 The cardinal and thrash are there, 
 Flaunting in rapturous mood. 
 
 The wind steals in my window, 
 Keen with the thoughts of home, 
 Where the rhododendron's blooming 
 And the farmer turns his loam. 
 
 Stone walls and streets reverberate. 
 My room is close and small; 
 Caged, caged ! while thrushes try their notes 
 And rhododendrons call! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago . Thirteen 
 
 THE CHRYSALIS 
 
 My soul reposed in downy ease, 
 
 Yet not content was I, 
 But strove to push the walls away 
 
 And live ere I should die. 
 
 I walked in gardens drunk with flowers 
 And heard the nesting birds, 
 
 ** *Tis not for me, for me,*' I cried, 
 **The music of their words." 
 
 A cross rose against a lurid sky, 
 A cross I must bear alone. 
 
 And staggering I broke the seal, 
 Ah, then the sunlight shone! 
 
Fourteen The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 THE PIGEON WING 
 
 When de meat is in de meat house 
 
 An' de apples in de bin, 
 
 An' de 'possum kotch an' fattenin' 
 
 Er grinnin' mad es sin; 
 
 Hit's den I hauls ma fiddle out 
 
 An' twistes' up de string, 
 
 An' calls out to Salina, come 
 
 Le's cut de pigeon wing: 
 
 Tee-te-ee-te, te-te-ee-te-ee, 
 
 Tee-te-ee-te, te-ee-te-um, 
 
 Tee-te-ee-te-um, 
 
 Tee-te-ee-te-um. 
 
 Fling dat skillet, fling hit high, 
 
 Caze 'possum time es mighty nigh. 
 
 Push dem cheers agin de wall. 
 
 Open de doo' an' pack in all, 
 
 I'ze got no licker, but I'ze got er smell 
 
 Ob turk an' 'possum in de hall; 
 Yance, yer rawboned scalawag. 
 Step for'ard wid er swing. 
 Kick up de dus' an' strak er spark 
 An' swinge dat pigeon wing. 
 Tee-te-ee-te, te-te-ee-te-ee, etc 
 Spread out dar erbout de floo' 
 Git right an' begin, 
 Out dar Sam, yaller Jim an' Joe, 
 Hit's er circus we gwine spin, 
 Dere Salina, come step up swell, 
 Don' yer slight yer pawt, 
 Slam dem feets an' fris' erbout, 
 Lawd, I ain't got no heawt: 
 Tee-te-ee-te, te-te-ee-te-ee, etc. 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Fifteea 
 
 DE MORNIN'S GITTIN' BY 
 
 Up so bright an early, lookin' at de sun, 
 Whar lie rise in glory in de eastern sky ; 
 But somehow er ruther de ain't much bin done, 
 An' she ez fait' de mornin's gittin' by. 
 
 Heap er things er comin' up frum heer an' dar. 
 Takes a pow'ful site er time, — he slips so sly,— 
 No matter whar yer leum frum, no matter whar yer are, 
 Ole time he's er fudgin' an' de mornin's gittin' by. 
 
 Watch out dar young folks lookin' at de sky, 
 Sho ez loife hits comin' bofe ter yer an' I; 
 Watch out fur de minites — diamonts in de sky, 
 En don furgit my honey, de mornin's gittin' by. 
 
 Soon be ole an' feeble, settin' by de fire, ' 
 
 Hands all a-tremble an' ain't feel so spry; 
 De misery gits yer in de side, an' feet dat ez so tire, 
 Sho, ez fait' de mornin's gittin' by. 
 
Sixteen The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 THE SOUTH WIND. 
 
 (In New York) 
 
 The band swings round the comer 
 j; With blast of trump and drum, 
 
 '■ A lusty southern medley 
 
 • Holds the people as they come ; 
 
 The air is full of messages 
 
 That thrill my soul to-night, 
 
 The dipping of a ceaseless oar, 
 
 The river at twilight. 
 ' Once more the lapping waters 
 
 Of the old Savannah play, 
 
 Once more the children gather 
 
 At the close of summer's day 
 
 In the cottage hung with woodbine, 
 
 Where lilacs blue and white 
 
 With jasmine and violets 
 
 Lend perfume to the night; 
 
 The dove croons o'er the valley 
 
 The whippoorwill's wierd note. 
 
 The mocker in the apple tree 
 
 Trilling; the crimson throat 
 • Vies with the frogs chug, chugging, 
 
 In the pond by the pasture gate. 
 
 Hear the waters rushing, rushing, 
 
 Prom early morn till late 
 
 And the speckled trout so frisky 
 
 In the creek are nibbling bait ; — 
 
 Oh, it*s where the South wind's calling 
 
 My heart turns back again, 
 
 With a kindly thought of neighbors 
 
 And the preacher's great, amen! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Seventeen 
 
 VIOLETS 
 
 Flecked with red the clouds hung low, 
 
 In the cove where the dog tooth violets grow, 
 
 Banked in masses on the hill, 
 
 Streaming down to kiss the rill, 
 
 Mounting the crest where lost from view, 
 
 They blend with sky ethereal blue ; 
 
 Now, they catch the rays of sun, 
 
 In myriad hues the dewdrops run. 
 
 While lavender and mauve anew 
 
 Like winged darts go stinging through 
 
 My heart ; and in the morning air 
 
 Perfume filters everywhere! 
 
Eighteen The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 COMPENSATION 
 
 There 's a vista across the way from me, 
 Though the field I may not buy, 
 
 That wrings my heart for words to hold 
 The splendor passing by. 
 
 Stately, and tall, my sentinels, 
 With trunks of Vandyke brown. 
 
 Long arms of feathery lace entwined, 
 The red bank tumbled down: — 
 
 The sky blends yellow, gray and red 
 As the disc leans and inclines. 
 
 Gold spears strike to the zenith 
 Through a clump of long-leaf pines! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Nineteen 
 
 THE ALIEN 
 
 He stands beneath the eaves of a holy clmrch, 
 
 A lonely figure with great wistful eyes 
 
 Tending his cart of parched peanuts and corn, 
 
 The taper burns, he shakes the yellow grains 
 
 That burst like snowflakes as they fall, each one 
 
 With flutings shaped. Often I loiter near 
 
 To purchase carelessly a little pack, 
 
 And long to speak a word or two of cheer 
 
 As silently he passes me a coin, — 
 
 Alas, he is a Greek and cannot speak 
 
 Our tongue or blend his dreary life with ours ; 
 
 He stands apart and sees the crowd pass by 
 
 With jest and joke and close companionship. 
 
Twenty The Christmas of Long Af» 
 
 ON THE HUDSON 
 
 The sun drooped low and tipped the Jersey hills, 
 Across the river lay a band of gold 
 Scintillating with rays of silver sheen, 
 The blue gray smoke rose ti^r on tier and veiled 
 The rugged hills in lavender and rose ; 
 Expanding now the great ball softer grows 
 As wisps of mauve and carmine shade each line, — 
 A fold of gray floats lightly from the face 
 While resting in the fork prongs of the trees 
 The giant steadies, slings his mighty sword 
 Of flame and slips in silence down the abyss I 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Twenty-one 
 
 THE HORSESHOK GLEN 
 
 Come trip with me the Horseshoe Glen 
 Where fairies hold their ball, 
 And revel to the pipes of Pan 
 No thought of care or call. 
 
 Come where the rose and fern have wed. 
 And drink life full and free, 
 ^ome Love and dance with me 
 Until the reveille! 
 
Twenty-two The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 THE SUMMER EOSE 
 
 The rippling of the merry brook, 
 The tinkle of a soft guitar, 
 Your dulcet voice — the fading beams 
 Call me from afar. 
 
 The summer days are almost gone, 
 Have you trifled thus with me? 
 And plucked a rose to fade and die 
 For a moment's ecstacy? 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Twenty-three 
 
 A SONNET 
 
 We labor up the great stone steps to pray 
 
 And enter solemnly the family pew, 
 Where kneeling low in contrite heart to-day, 
 
 The service long and tedious go through ; 
 The organ swells, soft chanting thrills the soul, 
 
 In mellow tones the ministers proclaim 
 With cross and covenant the way unfold. 
 
 And all in one accord worship His name. 
 The service ends, the music dies away. 
 
 Strange thoughts arise of stocks and bonds and 
 things ; 
 To win the goal is life, who counts the way? 
 
 To fail is sin, see how the market swings. 
 Upon the street go plot and scheme with care, 
 Yea, f orgeting God is everywhere ! 
 
Twenty-four The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 THE MOENING LIGHT 
 
 The morning light is breaking 
 And spreading through the earth ; 
 
 The clarion call is sounding, 
 The hour of the new birth. 
 
 Across from India calling, 
 Hear the soft strains come, 
 
 The weary world is moving, 
 She is swinging close to home. 
 
 The morning light is breaking. 
 Sin grapples hard, to sway, 
 
 But Truth triumphant is marching, 
 Hail to the dawn of day! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Twenty-five 
 
 SALLY ANN 
 
 ''Run nigger run er de pattaro' '11 git yer, 
 
 Run nigger run fer hit's a'mos' day." 
 
 I'ze been across de 'Rony woods 
 
 Ter see my Sally Ann, 
 
 She b'long ter dem folks ober dar 
 
 An' dis I jis' can't stan'; 
 
 I sho' is boun' ter hab 'er, sho! 
 
 An' she am willin,' man, — 
 
 ''Run nigger run er de pattaro' 'U git yer. 
 
 Run nigger run fer hit's a'mos' day." 
 
 We'ze gwine hab er corn-shuckin *, ugh, hugh, 
 
 An' 'vite 'em all ober den, 
 
 Caze I wants ole miss ter see her 
 
 An' den de fun begin. 
 
 Ha, ha, ha, I boun' ter wo'k hit thru, 
 
 Ole Miss laks me, git away, 
 
 She gwine fix hit right an' dis I know, 
 
 I gits my Sally Ann ober ter stay. 
 
 Fling me de fiddle an' fling me de bow, 
 
 Caze I'ze gwine git Sally Ann, Sally Ann, I know, — 
 
 "Run nigger run er de pattaro '11 git yer, 
 
 Run nigger run fer hit's a'mos' day." 
 
Twenty-six The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 CAROLINE 
 
 Oil Caroline, Sweet Caroline, 
 
 Come lissen ter ma song — don' pine; 
 
 Ma heawt strings beats de melody 
 
 Ob yer name de whole day long, honey. 
 
 (Soliloquy) Step lively dar yer dusky coon, 
 
 De dawgs es er barkin' an' dere ain't no moon; 
 Twang dat banjo mighty sly, 
 
 Caze yer wake ole Miss an' hit be goodbye. 
 
 Oh Caroline, sweet Caroline, 
 
 I'ze under de winder, love o'mine; 
 Open yer shutters jis' er peep 
 
 Ter let me know yer ain't er sleep. 
 
 I hes ter sing so pow'ful low, 
 
 Fear ob de dawgs an' Miss de mo'. 
 Dere's none dat haf so gran' an' fine, 
 
 Oh Caroline, sweet love o'mine. 
 
 Yer eyes is lak de glitt'rin stars, 
 
 An' yer voice am sof lak masic bars, — 
 Come tell me now, Oh Caroline 
 
 Wid er happy smile dat yer be mine, 
 Oh Caroline, sweet Caroline! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Twenty-seven 
 
 LOVE 
 
 Love flings her lines afar girdling the world 
 With chains of gold fast linking round about, 
 From crimson poppy fields to cherry blooms, 
 Close by the hoary dragon's lair she glides 
 And casts enchanting eye the Sphinx to V7in; 
 The pyramids yield up their magic store, 
 And all things give their best — their rarest gifts. 
 And deep is love as countless fathoms dark. 
 Still down to depths profound moving unheard; 
 Then soaring upward cleaves the utmost blue; 
 Orion and the Pleiades grow dim, 
 On, on to worlds remote unknown to man, 
 There is no bound for love, for love is God! 
 
Twenty-eight The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 MY OWN 
 
 I can't tell just why I love you so; 
 
 It seems to me there is no glow 
 
 Of summer's sun or starlight gleam, 
 But on that ray your face is seen ; — 
 
 I can't tell just why I love you so! 
 
 Your voice is whisperng cadence low, 
 Like babbling brook or zephers blow, 
 And oft I listen tlirough the night 
 With senses tense and heartstrings taut;- 
 I can 't tell just why I love you so ! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Twenty- 
 
 nine 
 
 THE WINDS 
 
 Galloping with stirrups and spurs sprung taut, 
 
 Down hill and corner steep, 
 
 The alley alive with screeches wild 
 
 As they lunge and whine and sweep. 
 
 Swish! steel hands scrape the side wall 
 
 And rattle the windows wet, 
 
 Howling down the turnpike gorge, 
 
 They charge and fight and fret, 
 
 Grappling some fierce antagonist 
 
 Deadly to beset; 
 
 Onward like mad down chasms dark, 
 
 Rumbling and thundering deep; 
 
 These unseen knights in armor flash 
 
 Lights over doubloons keep. 
 
Thirty The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 A TREE 
 
 It was a rough and rugged tree, 
 Wind scarred and knotty 
 With scrubby boughs and twisted twigs, 
 Hard favored hickory of the wood. 
 
 A luxurious vine clung to its boughs 
 With soft and curling tendrils, 
 Caressing fondly the warty trunk; 
 In clusters large and full. 
 The flowers sift their perfume down 
 Like vapor through the wood! 
 
The Christmas of Long Ago Thirty-one 
 
 ILS N£ PASSERONT PAS 
 
 lis ne passeront pas, resounded through the world, 
 Into the breach ten million men were hurled; — 
 lis ne passeront pas, — ^let despots quake with fear, 
 Greed and oppression throttled everywhere. 
 
 lis ne passeront pas, — right will prevail, 
 Free men! America! we must not fail; — 
 lis ne passeront pas, — redeem the cruel past, 
 Strike the shackles from the slave at last ! 
 
 FREEDOM 
 
 Ay, free you are, yes free to live or die, 
 
 To serve or sin or waste your time in vain, 
 
 No mortal cares or asks the reason why 
 Some flounder in the mire, others attain. 
 
Thirty-two The Christmas of Long Ago 
 
 A SONNET 
 
 Confucius strove with theories abstruse 
 
 To plan the lives of men that ran to waste, 
 
 And Buddha lifted high his scheme in truce 
 
 And laid the deep absolving of his caste, 
 
 Mohammed thrust his sword point in to gain 
 
 Worshipful adoration, temples, shrine, 
 
 The Shinto caught a ray across the main 
 
 And man the wretched victim no peace could find. 
 
 And when the groping world had madly sought 
 
 From prophet, philosopher and king, yea all 
 
 That knowledge could achieve was counted naught, 
 
 As it was foretold, their theories did fall : 
 
 The time was ripe, His star shone in the East 
 
 And wise men came to worship the Prince of Peace! 
 
LIBRARY OF 
 
 CONGRESS 
 
 015 906 512 i #