PS "5503 Y3S9 SUN CMoa r%l^^ '< 2Aijl_ Class, Book._XlSl_ ()opyiightN«__^3. CiJPMRIGHT DEPOSIT. ®mitt @ong£i By GWoe Gasftle Qvmion PublisKed by A. C. VROMAN, Inc. Pasadena, California JAN 31 1320 'CI.A561692 WO Dreamer of Dreams, in the sKadow-times, WKen tall trees whisper hand in hand. And swift waves kiss the moon-gold sand, And hearts ring sweet, sad vesper-chimes, — Giver of Gifts, if you understand How the hour haunts, though years have sped Since together we loved, together read, — Dearest of Dear Ones, read my rhymes! I cannot pray with thee, thou dauntless one Who passetK on with sadly steadfast eyes; I cannot sound thy depths of agonies. Nor dream thy dream of peace when life is done. Since death to thee is but a victory won Before the opening gates of Paradise. For thee it is the flesh alone that dies. And in the spirit new life is begun. For me the darkness holds no gleam of light Beyond the narrow circle of today. Eternal cruelty, heedless, infinite. Seems more the master of man's blinded way. But still I know not, for man's little mind Gropes in the'darkness, blind and more than blind. Cfjange of tfie IQitt Hand in Hand, a whispering band, TKe waves creep out from tKe cliff-clad land. Swift to lift at tKe light wind's shift Where the blue-green tide shows a green-blue rift. And the long rock-shadowed seaweeds drift. Purple and rose and emerald green. Flowing soft in a sun-flecked sheen. Orange and gold and silver-cold Dream fish gleam in the shallow's hold. Brown and bright and sunshine-white The sands lie bare at the water's flight Clean to the kiss of the wind's delight. Purple and cool each rock-bound pool Mirrors the sky's calm over-rule. While far at sea, where the tides run free A sail drives, frail at the wind's decree, Violet and gray, across the bay The fog mists shimmer and fade away Where the long sea-surges shoreward stray. And burdened waves like singing slaves Drop their gifts in the long sea caves. Proud to press with a swift caress To the cliff's clean-bosomed tenderness. Earth and air, so wonderous fair, God-given beauty, past compare, — Sea-of-my-Soul, what of discord there ? ©latfe gQoolrg Skies never bluer Waiting the cloud. Hearts never truer Waiting the shroud ! Light that runs singingly Over the sea. Hands that part clingingly. Loath to go free. Dreaming the same old dreanas, Children unborn. Seeking the hidden streams. Children of morn. Passion of purity. Still undeiiled; Then brave security Being with child. Deep in the darkness Is one to pray? Seeing death's starkness Longs one to slay? Fair ruined being, — (Nothing to me. Simply the seeing Murder go free!) Learning the ways of men, Lover of Art! Burning the fluent pen. Word-weary Heart! Braving in sorrow Life's long lamenting. Then on the morrow Conquered, repenting! Watching the sun go down Over Life's waste. Playing the priest or clown Ever in haste. Weep with the weepers Self-conscious tears. Reap with the reapers Sorrowful years! ©fje jgtia jgmall yoict The storm of tears Kas passed us by. Griefs tempest stilled, what yet remains? Our own decision cast the die, — We stand alone yet Death refrains, And thus we question dully, "Why?" Nor seek to cleanse lifers battle-stains: Then comes the whisper of reply, — "Eternity, Eternity 1" ©fje Oafi 0ittsi The inspiration of the Dawn's rebirth. The budding beauty of youngf, springtime trees, The perfume of the rainsoaked, pregnant earth, And secrets whispered by the telltale breeze, — The glory of success when noon is high. And knowledge from defeat, which bitter seems. The flight of thoughts across the evening sky Into the sunset's haziness of dreams : — These are the gifts most precious in my sight To be remembered through the haunted night. ©fie Goming of ttie Hog ^Tis sunset time, and son^-time in my heart. A shower of careless bird-song tinkles down The little wind that leaps among the trees And ruffles up my Kair, and leaves its kiss Sweet on my lips, and laughing goes its way. The high brave hills above the singing sea Put on a purple all aethereal Woven from drifting mists and dead day-dreams. Above, a star, a point of blazing gold. Stabs through the sunset with exquisit pain Of kinship with the suffering of man. While to the East, the night's blue tenderness Shimmers into a radient ecstacy Touched by the golden fire of the moon. Now comes the sea-fog, cold and white and swift, To smother close the color-song of things Into a leaden silence, while the wind Wanders afar, afraid and shivering Because the beauty of the night is dead. — So is the song within my tired heart. Gomrabe JQine (To c. w,) TKese tkings I ask at the Kands of Fate, Comrade Mine. Then I am willing to live and wait. Proud, with the praises of the crowd Taken simply w^ith head unbowed. For they enter not at the outer gate. But your place is here with warmth and cheer. For to me youVe dear, — Nay, more than dear. And your praise brings glad heart-holidays, Comrade Mine : To catch the dear, wild grace of you from the wind as it sings in its flight. To see the dear child-face of you in the wee wild- flowers, gold and blue. To And in the crushed ferns trace of you, where your naked feet ran light: To know that the star-shine on the sea is but a mes- sage from you to me, — A friendly song, The waves along. To gladen the lonely night. You oi the tawny tangled hair, you of the wind^s de- light. Say, are you gay on your wandering way. And is there joy in the break of day. And the falling of the night? Tell me the tales of your new-found trails, — The songs you sing as the twilight fails. And the campfire flames dance bright. Say, does the lure still endure? Are you glad or sad little comrade of the days when our ways were sure? Well, play your part with a joyous heart. Brave little slave to the love of art: Sing your song though the way seem long. For youVe strong. Dear Girl, as the winds are strong. And youVe hale on the trail where the great belong. Follower of the light ! gear's^ Qnbing Another year has slipped away from me, — A year of rose and gold that might not stay But passed into the dusk of yesterday. So is it when across a sunset sea Plows forth a treasure-laden argosy Bound for a port full half the world away. And fades into the fog at close of day. Leaving the great waves desolate, but free. Thus had this last year many gifts to bring To me who watched it pass the horizon bars. But still I smile for there are songs to sing. And only painful are lamented scars. So sure am I of this one vital thing I challenge in my strength the wheeling stars ! Qistlt QJanberer My soul darts fortK on wings of ligKt Up to tKe sky. To race the stars with swifter flight And pass them by. Into eternities of space, — Unbounded, free ! It conquers time in headlong race Of ecstacy. Into the void unblessed by light By God*s breath blown. Where all must perish in the night Save love alone. And then, when Dawn o'er land and sea Begins to smile. My soul comes back to dwell with me A little while. Q (glons of jglonsjs What more are songs, that lure and fret and tease Than music^s heart-break, drifting down the breeze? What more are songs, flung out the heart to ease. Than purple pulses of star-smothered seas? What more are songs, — nay, are they more than these Swift, shifting shadows, 'neath the wind-tossed trees? JJittle ©irb Dear little bird, in the tree-top high. Is your heart on fire with love and pain. That there in the sweep of April rain You voice my grief in your wild, sweet cry? Dear little bird, can you tell me why Witl»* tortured joy your love-song thrills Through the driving rain that beats and chills Under the leaden, wind-torn sky? Dear little bird in the tree-top high. Brave little bird, can you tell me why? H^^om tljE goof Below the rooVs great height The lonely city night Glows with the fallen stars oi man^s desire Above the smoke drifts by And trails along the sky. Dead incense from an ancient altar fire. The wheels of life spin fast. The night will soon be past. Another day will bring new toil and grime. But as the years spin round A second faith is found. And stronger courage welcomes light-foot time. Then read its heart aright, O, you of blinded sight. Who in the city strive for greater gain, — As lofty towers rise Searching the farther skies. Read deep the message. Courage out of Pain! Qnber tlje @outfiern Qyosi^ TKe fierce wKite fire of the day- Has burned away all pagan dross, Now at tKe temple doors we pray Before we dare behold tbe cross. O, holy silence of the night! — The hearts of weary human kind Go seeking blindly unknow^n light, And break because they cannot find. We know not even whence nor why. But seek to veil our deep heart-scars, And lift our faces to the sky, — Our altar, lit with countless stars. The mighty cross swings high above. The organ music of the sea Rolls vibrant with almighty love Commanding great humility. We pray, although we hardly dare To cast aside our cloak of fears. So burdened are we with despare. And deathly drunk with tears. ©tie jgfinger'jf Qtsitinv Out in tke Kills with the sunset over. And under a wild-flower slope to the sea, — The call of the quail from the wind-blown clover. And the joy of the soul that dares be free ! Light wind, white wind, fog-breath and sea-song. Wild, sweet music, voice of Spring! Leave me alone in the hills all the day long, — Leave me alone with songs to sing. Let me forget all pain and passion. Let me forget the Now and Then. Let me go back in childhood fashion To the fairy world of If and When. Verses that flow like running water With music of wind, or far star''s song, — Let me sing and forget the slaughter Of fair white hopes and conquering wrong. Back to the primitive joy of living. Beauty born in the wild for me. Love that lives for the joy of giving, — This is the singer's destiny! E(eart of O^une Did I deny tKe propKesy of May WKen even little birds made jubilee, — WKen, shrouded in my thoughts' dark tapistry, I hid a heart-remembered holiday? Yes, but the stars filled all night's trouble-time With laughter breaking down dead grief's control. And Spring rain beat upon my doubting soul A rippling, running rapsody of rhyme. Dare I impose my grief of somber hue Upon a world, joy-mad at Spring's decree? Dare I rebuke the singing, saphire sea. When earth and sea are glad with love of you? For in your eyes is all the leaping dawn. And m your smile, the sunset's tenderness. And in your hands, a longing to caress. Like white rose-petals fluttering toward the lawn. And in your heart great joy, imprisoned, sings Of greater beauty, coming swiftly-soon. With the white radience of the fulfilled moon Kissing to silence all youth's questionings. I love tkee best wKen early in the dawn TKe birds sing sweetest and all life in new With deep heart-promises of love for you. And out of wells of silence songs are drawn. I love thee most when noon flames gloriously With clear white fire from high heaven above. And all of life goes leaping-glad with love, — Then sure and strong I love victoriously. I love thee tenderest when sunset goes Into soft shadowings, and waves are still. When from thy tired heart, my heart to fill Flows out love's greatest rapture of repose. I love thee most supremely when the night Grants all of beauty freely for love's sake. When wonder-wide thine eyes seem half awake. Half dreaming in a holy calm delight. I love thee strongest though the world divide Our little human ways of circumstance. Then in the spirit, free from time and chance I love thee certainly, and side by side. These ways I love thee, yet more dear to me Is that white, holiest, all-adoring way When scarce I dare to love thee, or to pray,— O, that I might be crucified for thee ! On ttje @taCliii^ Out of the pulsing heart Of sunset sea and sky Alive, aquiver, strong, TKe wind of love comes by. Out of tke depths of silence Which hold all harmony Passes this mighty music Between the sky and sea. My heart is a little leaf And fain would it hold the tree Torn by the storm of grief, — O, God, be good to me 1 gontiolet Smile, if you care. But if not do not gaze into my soul ! — Smile if you care. But do not take me all so unaware With eyes that speak a gladness past control. Half dream, half tenderness,-— of life the whole,- Smile if you care. Qtbenture A bubbling splasK of music trickles down The nigfht^s dark wall of silence, tken all's still. Save for the echo of a sobbingf breath drawn by the wind in passing, and the far Shout of young fancies riding the new moon Headlong adown the night into the sea. The heart-pulse of the night drums quick and faint Through the swift quiet breathings of all things. A great event goes by on wide dark wings Beating to starward and eternity. Is that a lost soul drifting where the white Of lotus flowers shimmers through the gloom? Or is it but a dead dream on its way To haunt the flower that careless gave it birth? A shooting star charges the sky's abyss, — My hands are in its flry tangled mane. And swift astride its splendor do I vault And ride exultant down eternity! ©tie O^ttttfe^'^^'^ B^^li^ap I have taken the wings of the morning, — I have fled over eons of sea. The ends of the earth And death and birth Are one with the soul of me. I have bathed in the hue Of flaming blue Where the sky and sea are no longer two, — Where a great gold star Kissed a flaming scar Into my hand that held it far. And the pain was what love and hatred are Yet beyond was the goal for me. For the flame that sings in the hearts of things Burns warm in me as it burns in kings. Or in mystic priests With their sacred feasts. And incense offerings. The heart of a rose More sacred grows As a man his own heart deeper knows. And the flame in each more brightly glows If the man has found it fair: Thus the mad white Are Of high desire Is only the reach for something higher, — To be a god, and dare ! — The hope to grope Past man's blind scope Like tke lotus growth from sand and mire Through liquid up to air. Thus the blinded quest For heaven's best Is a game Of shame And an empty jest. If wine can lead me there ! Yes, wine, wine, wine ! — Is it not divine. This burning kiss on these lips of mine? Why seek escape From this bare girl-shape Pouring the blood of the sacred grape From a chalise wreathed with the sacred vine Torn from her tangled hair ? NO, let me drink at her chalise-brink The wine of beauty, nor pause to think Nor doubt, nor question why: For wine is the fire of destiny Which flashes through me, and makes nie free !- I go to drown in the wine-dark sea Under the wine-bright sky! Qtflftt fiftre I Kear adown tKe dim sea-caves TKe nigKt-wind's singing quest, — TKe teasing tenderness of waves AtKirst to kiss my breast. Dearest, tKe nigkt flames gold again. And all my life demands To feel against my hearths dumb pain TKe comfort of your hands. TKe witcKery of fog-wind fails To Keal tKe sunset-scars, — TKe moon Kas spun wKite fire-veils To Kide tKe mating stars. (O, God of all weak Kuman tKings, O, God of eartK and sky. Grant us tKy keenest sufferings, — We ride, my love and I !) Soft o'er tKe little flowers Like stars in a sea of grass, — Close by tKe grim sea-towers Our steeds' swift sKadow^s pass. Out from tKe sKore witK measured croon Rock tKe waves in tKe arms of tKe moon, WKere tKe writKing seaweed curls its fingers 'Round tKe reefs of tKe dark lagoon. Back through a canyon from the sea Winds the road for my love and me. Until it rises, topping the sea-cliff. Pointing the way so far and free. Where the road runs white Through the shimmering night, — (O, God, hast thou heard my prayer? For the wind leaps forth From the star-hung north And to ride, to ride we dare ! And we lean to the rush of its passing Like swift white hands in our hair.) And a panic of fright That is half fierce delight Sends my steed Terror freed Through the shadow and light. And the beat of his feet Down the road^s long retreat Marks a song That is long And is strong And is sweet As the wind in its singing flight. (If the road leads out to Eternity, And swift Death waits for my love and me. O, God, have I prayed aright?) Question LigKt, and tKe song of birds : Gold-radiance, rose-glory from the sky. And in tKe shadow of the hills, the sea. All purple peacefulness beneath the dawn. And in my heart the question ever new. And old as all the world's great heart of pain, — "When comes the nobler faith and clearer sight? When comes the vision of a world set free?'' — A cry for that completeness which shall come. But come alone through suffering infinite When in the time fortold in prophet lore The great gold sun shall strike along the sky Piercing the mystery of early dawn, — Blazing a pathway to the perfect day. Sunset, bird's vesper song. And coming twilight, whispering of peace. After the long, white glory of the day. All gold and purple is the westward sea Striding to landward with his arms flung wide, — A kingly lover, coming royally. To claim his own with valiant, God-like strength. Weary and world-worn at this twilight hour After the breathless turmoil of the day Lived all too swiftly in a world where haste Treads fiercely on the flying heels of gain, I come at last to where the western land Welcomes the passion of the night-time sea. Here is fulfillment, and the question asked When dawn first hung the heights with woven flame. When noon walked fiercely through the ranks of men Inciting them to sterner selfish haste, — When in the silence of a student's cell Great fears rose up to mock at man's distress, — Has found its answer after toil and pain. After things tragic, — comic, have passed by Into the blessed silence of the past. Now at this hour when time itself draws breath I find my question answered to the full. And if this may be doubted by some soul World-weary and heart-shattered in the fight I bid him live one day for love alone. And, after that is done, to humbly stand. And hear the twilight message of the sea. iQxtam'^ Qnbing A dear, gflad dream Kas passed and left me tired As one unto whom sleep Kas brought no rest. And yet has given much of thought for after-whiles. The dream it was which led my feet afield To wander in a land not quite unknown But richer far than in the olden days When flower-crowned and heedless hrst I passed Wing-footed through its vales and o'er its hills. And now, as one who looking backward, sees A dear friend's smile, and smiles a sad farewell, I gaze across the dream's sw^ift shadovi^-play. I see again the dear, glad, golden hours Wrought beautiful with very precious things: I see again the glowing blues and golds And clear, white-lights of high noons, hours of prayer: I see the long rose-shadowed twilight hours And those that sparkle with the fresh-sprung day: Each and all sanctified by that strange power Too strong, too beautiful to be denied, — Granted a full dominion in my soul To crush or crown me as the dream decreed. Now has this radient, joyous, tear-washed dream Left me alone as at the first but changed, — Perhaps a little weaker from defeat. Perhaps a little stronger to face life. Yet very sure with knowledge of my soul. So once again I turn to face the vast Far-stretching future, — is it far away. That shadowed resting-place, that men call Death? ©0 IE. Xt. 6(. TKe depths of space beneath me lie. I smile to see man's little strife. On wings of steady thought I fly. And name Eternity my life. I learn to choose immortal good From weary, human lack of sight, I feed upon celestial food, I carry in my being light. I choose with certain care my course And guide my path through star-dust trails. I claim the mastery of force. Knowing that only weakness fails. (gfonnet The plaintive pipings of a moon-mad Pan Whispered a question answered by the sea In its unbroken chant of mystery. While mermaids sang as only mermaids can. The beach-brush whispered when a satyr ran From shade to shadow in his impish glee To see the dryads dance in ecstacy. And nowhere was there thought or fear of man. I would that I had lived a light-foot faun To dance in moon-shine where the sea waves roar: To know the triumph of the savage dawn. And all great wildnesses that are no more. To try my young strength e'er the will is gone. And love as did those wild, free things of yore ! O, Phantom City of my Dreams, High consecrate within the fog. The sweat from every wheel and cog Within thy heart great treasure seems. O, Holy city rich beyond All count of wealth in pain and tears. The agony of heedless years Is in our souls a mighty bond. I pray, e'er my last steps are trod To see, behind the mist, the End, To dare to call my brother Friend, And so draw nearer unto God. The spirit of redemption's peace Broods in the mists of early morn,— A deeper peace shall yet be born When men shall love and war shall cease. Then moving force that guides the spheres. Accept our w^ar-born, w^orld-w^ide creed. And e'er our hearts have ceased to bleed Grant us the tenderness of tears. Let us acknowledge fair defeat With socialistic hand in hand, — The nation's heart must understand Or else for ever cease to beat! QonfegfiJion Heart in hand I came to you With a little, whispered prayer How could I give blame to you. If you did not find it fair? Kindly then at me you smiled. And your kindness, like a flame Burnt me, made me bitter, wild, — Yet I cannot give you blame! Gently then to me you spoke. And your words were light and gay. But my heart in pieces broke. And I turned, and went away. Qlborabo I will run high into the hills, And laugh up toward the sun; I will drop down and kiss the sod And worship tenderly my God With passion-battles won. — I will grow pure as mountain rills. Washed fiercely where the fountain chills And when these things are done Blue valley bound, in ecstacy Of love reborn, I'll come to thee ! gQib=g(ummer Qigftt Listen to the moonlight Dripping slow and sweet From the flower faces Pressed by fairy feet. Hear the trickling ripple Of the dripping, moon-drenched dew. Where little goblins tipple And carouse the white night through. Taste the leaden wine-scent Of perfume on the tongue. By fairies weak and wine-spent Out of poppies wrung. Watch the whirling, swirling Wreaths of wind-wound spray 0*er the fountain curling Round fountain-folk at play. Hear the moon-moth muttering Magic to Himself, All despite his fluttering Ridden by an elf. Hear the mocking music. Faint and very far. Of many wee, wise minstrels Piping to a star. Feel the fairy fingers Fluttering o'er one's face, — Banish care that lingers. Join the moon-mad race. Drop weak, world-wise wonder. Close wan, weary eyes. Burst old bonds asunder, — Wake to Otherwise! Qifalm of ©eartf (To A. W. T.) If I dip tKe cup of my Keart into the sunset Will it brim over witK the beauty of fulfillment? If I forget that I Kave thirsted long, will I cease to desire water? If I w^orsKip only tbe iron cross of my Keart Will I dishonor the spirit cross of my soul? O, I am drinking deep of the life-giving fountain of tears, — Nay, but I love the bitter waters. And my soul is strong, because I am not afraid ! The tears of the spirit-eyes are sacred. Through them one sees more clearly Than when one^s eyes are radient with sunrise. It is only the coward w^ho is afraid to w^eep,— Only the great ones who love and are crucified! Walk softly through the shadows, O, my heart! They are beautiful and therefore to be worshiped. Be not fearful of the dark, O, little soul. But be steadfast in thy singing. Else thou canst not hope to be \ Worthy of the gift of crucifixion. Dost thou fear the sacrifice, O, Heart-of-Flame? What is life but giving and receiving? Then, if we give nothing, how can we receive? Or if we are faithless, how can we be trusted? Dare to spread thy wings in the twilight And seek the heights of thy song! All the world is in my heart, — may my hands learn kindness. And my soul serenity from the torture of repression! There is nothing that I would not strive to do If I could but realize the glory of the conquered! I long distantly in the dawning For the singing fountains in the high hills. Be hilarious to answer, O, my heart. And be swift to follow, O, my feet ! Be strong to give assistance, O, my hands. And be glad with kindness in thy serving, — Give of thy strength abundently, O, soul. For conquest is in living brave, and loving! Hrance O France, dear France, Kold up thy head And look with tender pride Upon tKy sleeping mighty dead Entombed on every side. And on the earth so richly read Beneath thy victor-stride 1 O France, dear France, cathedral tells Have rung the call to prayer. For thy dear sons the anthem swells Triumphant on the air. — O God of France, how beautiful To see them lying there ! O France, dear France, 'twas thine to yield Thy flesh to thus be torn, And with thy body thus to shield Thy children new^ly born. Thou by thy suffVing hast revealed Their resurrection morn ! O France, sad Mourning-Mother France, Behold the pride of kings Is fallen 'neath the foe's advance. And these, our offerings. Have justified the thorns, the lance. The cross, Christ's sufferings 1 O France, dear sister, figkting France, Our lads across tKe sea Have dared the vagaries of chance To figKt and die for thee : O look not with a haughty glance On Christ's fraternity! And France, beloved France of fame. Made splendid past desire. So beautiful in all thy flame Of sacrificial 6re ! — O France, revenge thy women's shame, — Thy children in the mire! And when, O France, the bugles blow The peal of victory. When through thy bleeding arteries flow New life that is to be, — O France, remember even so. We gave our lives for thee!