IIP i II iiilffilHtM i PS 3523 .E14 M6 1920 Copy 1 ■ • JUL K^ X \,a/za tl>ii:.UIB!ll(lll(l * % ■ ■ . ' \ ' , • ■ . '« , • , , , ■< m*^. •♦»> ,ri» Tip*. -it tr~\ k tt, i"it . r MUND LEAMY r J IV/I\1JU V ) fy Class \k) 3 Book_ GopyrightTS? i COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. _J MOODS AND MEMORIES MOODS and MEMORIES BY EDMUND J.EAMY Author of "My Ship, and Other Verses," etc. NEW YORK THE DEVIN-ADAIR CO. 1920 Copyright, 1920, By THE DEVIN- ADAIR CO. Mi 12 1920 GI.A571427 -x^O D D TO MY BKOTHER HUGH CONTENTS PAGE Foreword 11 Proem 17 MOODS Wounded on the Veldt 21 The Tavern by the Sea 22 The Road to Larchmont 25 Because 27 The Traitor 28 Good Bye, Old Man 30 Sister 31 Gone West 32 The Departure 34 The Soldier 36 Dead Fires 40 Anchorage 42 Prayer Before Action 44 Peter Pan's Promise 45 Faith in Fairies 48 To a Dead Poet 51 Top o' the Morning 52 The Master 54 Afternoon Tea 55 Anticipation 57 7 PAGE Wander Whispers 58 On Morris Street 60 Freighters 62 The Big Drays 64 Wanderlure 66 IN LIGHTER VEIN The Solution 71 A Woman's Way 73 'Tis a Sad Story, Mates 74 The Encounter 76 Water and Wine 78 Native Beer 81 The Tragedy 83 On the Old Slave Road 85 Why Not? 87 Cheero ! 89 MEMORIES Childhood Dreams 93 Magic 94 A Phantasy 95 Conquering Faith 97 Nostalgia 99 Night Memories 101 Nightmare 103 In Port 105 Two Meetings 107 A Tropic Night 108 8 PAGE Roads 110 Prisonered 112 The Lost Grave 114 Daressalaam 116 Remembrance 118 Perfumes 119 Sea Hunger 121 The Wife's Vigil 122 The Torch 124 Old Campaigners 125 The Garden 127 Little Lights 129 LOVE SONGS Sweetheart of Long Ago 133 I Will Forget 135 Perhaps 137 Loss 139 Rose Petals 140 Knowledge 142 The Message 143 So Worldly Wise Were We 144 Tears Are Vain 145 Forever 146 Because of a Day 148 Port o' Call 149 MOODS AND MEMORIES FOREWORD There is an Irish accent runs through Ed- mund Leamy's verse . . . the gaiety, the wist- fulness, the pathos, the eloquence of the Celt are there — the appealing Celtic cadence which is more than merely a cadence of speech, being, in fact, a cadence of the spirit behind the speech and putting its stamp upon the speech. One finds a strain of wistfulness in the work of many Irish writers of verse who are not really poets ... or rather, finds that they have been consciously striving for it. Mr. Leamy is a poet, and he speaks what is in him without straining or striving consciously for it ; the ac- cent that is native to his soul and to his lips works into his verse without his laboring for it or being, apparently, aware of it. His poems produce an effect of authenticity and genuineness because he has first felt and lived them. I know that he has first felt and lived them, for it is my privilege to know him, and to have known something about his life and [11] MOODS AND MEMORIES experiences during the years when these poems were writing themselves. But they are so in- tensely personal, so evidently the reaction to life and circumstances of one particular definite individual, that I think I should detect the genu- ineness of these expressions — would be able to say to myself that they are not merely the exer- cises of a capable literary man trying on various costumes — had I known nothing of the writer or of his history. The general reader, however, may gain addi- tional pleasure and interest from knowing that many of these poems were written while Mr. Leamy was serving as a Lieutenant in the Brit- ish Army (the King's African Rifles) in German East Africa. I know of no poems reflecting any phase of the late war that have for me more poignant appeal than such things as the dedica- tory poem of this book, and " Wounded on the Veldt, " " Gone West, ' ' ' ' The Departure, ' ' ' ' The Soldier,' ' etc., etc. Mr. Leamy does not beat the big drum and make skirl the shrill bag-pipe when he writes of the war; he seems always to tell truthfully, with a poet's truthfulness, how [12] MOODS AND MEMORIES some thing that he knew well affected him per- sonally. Compare Kipling's " Danny Deever" with the poem called "The Traitor" in this book. They are both about the same thing . . . a man is being hanged, and his comrades in arms are witnessing the execution . . . and Kipling's famous verse is more impressive in a technical way, it has more of the military rhythm and makes a more direct assault upon the nerves. But I think it is an external per- formance, however impressive, compared to "The Traitor.' ' In the latter poem one can- not escape the feeling that this actual Leamy, present in his own person, did individually and personally experience these particular emotions recorded: emotions that were not the conven- tional common property of the entire regiment, but his own, no matter what the rest of the com- mand might have been thinking. To dwell upon the war poems too long is to give a false idea of the book's content, for they are not preponderantly numerous : on the con- trary, there is rich variety here. For an edged, scornful, piece of work in a very "modern" [13] MOODS AND MEMOEIES mood and manner, look at "Afternoon Tea." It is not like the majority of Mr. Leamy's poems either in matter or treatment . . . and yet, how well it is done ! It would be rash to predict the growth of a new tendency in a poet's work from a few samples of this sort ; but it does show that when he wants to Mr. Leamy can say something to the point regarding human nature in its familiar, social, conversational environments as well as when he views it amid rawer, uncouther, war-like or workaday surroundings. Perhaps he will develop this faculty and give us a num- ber of these sharp portraits . . . adding an- other weapon to his equipment. He is exceedingly well equipped as it is . . . he has a feeling for words and for rhythms, he has his individual point of view, he has the eye which seizes upon the salient fact which signi- fies the whole, he has his Inheritance of glamour, and, more than all, he has a singing soul. Don Makquis. [14] For permission to reprint many of the poems in this volume my thanks are due to the editors and publishers of the following publications: New York Evening Sun, New York Times Sun- day Magazine, New York Times, The Saturday Evening Post, Adventure, House and Garden, Contemporary Verse, Breezy Stories, McClure's Magazine, New York American, Uganda Herald, The East African Standard, The Designer, The People's Home Journal, Woman's Weekly, New York Sunday Sun, Sea Power, Boy's Life, Munsey's Magazine, Snappy Stories, Modem Electrics. E. L. MOODS AND MEMORIES PROEM Comrades I have left behind me In that far-off southern land, When at dusk the stars come stealing Do you dream cmd understand? Do you think of other nightfalls — Bom-bom hidden in the bush; Sniper's bullet hitting blindly; Haunting dread of bayonet rush? Do you, seated by the camp-fire, Live again those olden days, Hopeless treks through hopeless country For our little meed of praise? Lone patrols with stars for guidance, Hidden death on every side, Only faith to keep us going, Dauntless faith cmd white man's pride. [17] MOODS AND MEMOEIES Then at last the distant rail-head, Comrades, camp and friendly fire, Food and drink and peace and comfort, Haven of the heart's desire. Night upon the lonely gubba, And the West wind sighing low. Don't you miss them in your dr earnings- Crowded hours of long ago. Full they were with grief and laughter, hove and hate time and again, Death, disease, and dread, and danger, When we lived — and died like men. To you of the far-off old life, You who dream and understand, O'er ten thousand leagues of distance, Here, I stretch a comrade's hand. [18] MOODS MOODS AKD MEMORIES WOUNDED ON THE VELDT (For My Mother) The stars are shining — they are my mother's eyes; The wind cries softly — I know it is her cry; The lovely night caresses — 'tis her arms — Oh, God above, I am content to die ! [21] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE TAVERN BY THE SEA There's a musty little tavern at the back of God-knows- where On a tiny little twisted cobbled street, Its gas lamps through the windows throw a fuggy muggy glare, And it's there that of an evening sailors meet. Till its closing time at midnight one by one they come and go, And the hours are passed in revelry and song, And yarns of days sea-faring, sun and shine and storm and snow, And good red rum to drink the evening long. But when the last lone reveller has vanished down the street, And the moon rides low and palely in the sky, Then they come, they come all silently on swiftly moving feet, The others — sailor men of days gone by. [22] MOODS AND MEMORIES And very jovial shades are they, and very glad to be Again within the tavern as of old, Swapping lies, and salty stories of the deathless sweeping sea, Tales of life, and love, and lure of yellow gold. A ghostly pot-boy serves them beakers filled with ghostly ale, And a ghostly host smiles broadly from the bar, And they drink deep drinks with laughter till the dawn comes grey and pale, When they pay their scores and go with the last star. And I'm told that these old sailors, though it ,may not all be true, Are very, very wicked, bad and bold, And they sail on ghostly cruises o'er the ocean's trackless blue, On ghostly ships in search of ghostly gold. [23] MOODS AND MEMORIES And whether they're successful, I believe it matters not, For ever there's good cheer and company, And a mate to swap a yarn with, and a man to share a pot Of ale, within the tavern by the sea. And it may not quite be heaven, but what more would sailors ask When the long trick is finished and is over, But a table in the tavern, and a talk about the task, And a mug of ale with some old fellow-rover ! [24] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE ROAD TO LARCHMONT The road that leads to Larchmont Is very, very fair, With music in the singing wind And perfume in the air, With nodding trees and friendly trees And gladness everywhere. There are glimpses of Long Island Sound And glistening bits of sand, And little green-white cottages In little gardens stand, Till one would think that God Himself Watched o'er that pleasant land. And you can hear the song of birds, And you can hear the sea Come whispering from o 'er the world Where lovely islands be, As sweet as any fairy dream In far off Arcady. [25] MOODS AND MEMORIES The laughing fields, the smiling flowers, The sunshine sweet, the near, Dear host of golden memories — But who (ah, exiles here), Who knows the road to Larchmont town So very, very dear? Who knows the road to Larchmont, here, And who is here to care If nodding tree is friendly tree, And perfume is the air? Who knows but I whose heart aches now With longing to he there? [26] MOODS AND MEMORIES BECAUSE Because I am so very far away From all dear things . . . Because each sun-lit, never-ending day Caressing clings The memory of little folks at play, My tired heart sings. Ah, sings and sighs e'en as the West wind sighs — With joy or woe — For glory of the days 'neath other skies Which we did know, For love that shone deep in a mother's eyes So long ago. [27] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE TRAITOR I saw them hang a man one time From the top of a gallows high, And he was a louse, with the soul of a louse, And richly deserved to die; But as I saw him swinging there, His body so limp and weak, That never again would laugh any more Nor love, nor sing, nor speak, A twinge of pity came into my heart That one of my own should die By the hangman's hand in a foreign land, Under an alien sky. But he had planned the cowardliest deed That ever a man can do — To sell us all to the enemy When we thought him straight and true. But we found him out. At a drumhead court We sentenced him to die [28] MOODS AND MEMOKIES At 6 o 'clock when the gay young sun Should crimson the Eastern sky. And so he swung from the gallows tree, And my thoughts went far away To a woman who waited expectantly His safe return some day. And oh, I hope that she never learns The death that his has been; That she holds her dream that he travelled West Kadiant, brave and clean. And if ever I chance to meet with her, Which God in His heaven forbid, May she never read in the eyes of me The thing that is better hid. But should she ask, as a woman will, If he went like a man to die, I hope to be able to look at her straight, And on the word of a soldier — lie ! [29] MOODS AND MEMORIES GOOD-BYE, OLD MAN (Lieut E. P. Killed in Action G. E. A, 1917) Good-bye, old man, may the Unknown Way Be easy for your going — May the suns that light your new-found day Be kindly in their showing. May every prayer we breathe for you Find answer in the glories That wait you There, as dear and true As faith in fairy stories. And may you sometimes from the Light Steal back to us unknowing, And greet us lone, at the dawn of night When the soft west wind is blowing. [30] MOODS AND MEMOEIES SISTER One does not look for beauty in a shed, Nor in a hospital upon the sand; Neither in the loneliness Of a foreign land. But in a corrugated iron ward, Amid the glory of a sunset hour And the far-off wilderness — I found a flower. [31] MOODS AND MEMORIES GONE WEST (On Active Service G. E. A. 1917) "It's goin , on twenty-two months now Since Fve been home," he said, "But I'm goin' when it's over And the Boche's power is dead; And mayhap there '11 be a woman, And a baby's curly head." He was sick and tired of Africa, But in fine high feather, So I cursed the Hun, and wished him luck, And we had a drink together — One for him, and one for her In all kinds of weather. And then upon a lone patrol, Beneath the sunny skies, He went as brave men go to death With clear and shining eyes, And a lonely grave in Africa Is all his paradise. [32] MOODS AND MEMORIES Not all, for oh, the good God knows The dreams of his own dead, And I think in that far heaven There's another home instead-^ And a lovely woman waiting, And a little curly head. [33] MOODS AND MEMOEIES THE DEPARTURE (For My Mother) No bands were playing merrily, No flags were flying gay; No handkerchiefs were fluttering As I went on my way Along the street to crimson war Upon a snnny day. No hand was held in greeting out, None breathed a good-luck plea, None blew a kiss, a farewell kiss — Then, lonely as could be, I thought I heard your dear-loved voice Come whispering to me. I thought I heard you whispering, Your lips seemed very near ; Your breath was sweet upon my cheek And softly in my ear I thought I heard you murmuring — "Good-bye, God bless you, dear!" [34] MOODS AND MEMORIES No bands were playing merrily As I went on my way Along the road to crimson war Upon a sunny day; But, oh, the heart of me that thrilled To what it heard you say. [35] MOODS AND MEMOEIES THE SOLDIER This morning in my tent I woke to find The warm sun shining through the door On cot, and walls, and floor, And, oh, his smile was generous and kind. I had not seen his face for many days, Nor known the glory of his light, nor felt The warm touch of his hand. Too long the bitter mist had veiled his rays And cloaked in cruel cold the mountain top Which overlooks the distant stretching veldt And is my home. Home ! In this far foreign land A tent upon the mountain. And my eyes dim With straining, watching for the grim Enemy that does not come. I saw my home fragrant with the scent of many flowers, Saw once again the well-remembered things, [36] MOODS AND MEMORIES » ■ -»— — — ™" ■* The pictures on the walls that I have known since childhood honrs — "Doggies in Disgrace," "The Snnset Sea," "The Roll Call." There came to me Visions of old furniture, the things that stood Within the living rooms. The polished wood Of sideboards grave with age, and cabinets Whose inlaid doors close hid from idle gaze Ancient relics, treasures, gifts of olden days. And there within that best-loved room of all — The room of books and shaded lamps and cozy chairs And pipes in racks upon the wall, And dim scent of tobacco, and carpet worn With loving tread by reverential feet That sought a haven from a world of cares, And found in this retreat The peace that dear contentment knows — Here stood I, and a rose In a vase upon the table nodded at me Familiarly As if 'twere yesterday. Ah, God ! . • . Then up the stairs [37] MOODS AND MEMORIES Unerring footsteps led me straight in line To one dear room that in the ages past Was mine. I toyed with curtains, fingered sheet and bed, Touched photos on the wall and knew How frail is mortal memory So few were now recalled. My head Was filled with wild, queer longings. The sun came in the window And I could hear Very near The song of birds within the trees And on the breeze The laugh of little children playing in the sun, And wafted to my nostrils came the sweet, salt tang of sea, And merrily On blue Long Island Sound flashed by the little ships, Their white sails greeting me — An old friend returned. [38] MOODS AND MEMORIES And then I heard voices down below, Voices I shall know When ears of mine are deaf to other sounds — Down, down on winged feet Straight, fleet To the best-loved room I flew (Ah, well I knew) Into the arms of those more dear than all — Oh, Christ ! the dear joy of it. . . . In my tent upon the lonely mountain So I dreamed; And the sun shone, and all seemed Real, true. I wondered, ' ' Is the dear day near The dear day of returning, or . . ." The sun went out, The mist came, hid the mountains, and as of old I shivered with the cold — Or this time — was it fear? [39] MOODS AND MEMOEIES DEAD FIRES I'm sick of the endless silence, I'm tired of the endless hills, I'm wearied of bush and palm trees, And the peace that the East instills ; I'm sick of the sight of natives And the smell of the whining wind — And I long for a day in the world away With the things that I left behind. A night in the old Red Lion, A fling in the old, old way, A pair of red lips to love me And eager to laugh or play; A pal of the old days near me Ever and ever so kind, The crash of song the wild night long, And the dream that I left behind. The perfume of violets hidden And lost in a woman's hair, [40] MOODS AND MEMORIES A dance for the days forgotten, And a kiss for an old despair, A tryst for an olden keeping When eyes that are wise were blind The madding nights, the whirl of lights, And the follies I left behind. I'm tired of the wild, wide open, The silence, the peace, the rest, And I long for the din of cities — But I know that the Wilds are best, For the dreams that I dreamed are banished Where never a man may find, And my heart lies dead with the days long fled, And the faith that I left behind ! [41] MOODS AND MEMORIES ANCHORAGE Some day when I have become very rich And I'm tired of sailing the sea, I'll anchor my ship by a far-away isle Where the buccaneers used to be. I'll carry a cargo of good red rum, And a ton of tobaccy or so, And charter a skipper to spin me yarns O'er the pipe bowl's cheery glow. And this skipper of mine he must be old And bronzed with a deep-sea tan, He must have travelled the wide world o'er, And he must have lived like a man. He must have measured a woman's love, And found it as false and frail As the catspaw puff on an oily sea When we prayed for a bellying sail. [42] MOODS AND MEM OKIES And he and I, we will spend the day, The night when the night is come, In smoking tobaccy, and swapping tales, And drinking our glass of rum, And talking to shades of bygone men — Pew, Silver, and Captain Kidd, Who '11 tell us then, when we will not care, The place where their treasure is hid. And mayhap a dream in my heart of hearts Will stir as I go to rest To bring me back to the long ago, And the one I loved the best. And this is the life for a sailorman Who is tired of the restless sea — A Mate, Tobaccy, A tot of rum, And a Dream for company ! [43] MOODS AND MEMORIES PRAYER BEFORE ACTION If I should die who so have loved the world Of sunshine and of laughter and of song, The lovely dreams each new-born day unfurled Before that dread hour came and all was wrong — Ere stalked grim War with devastating breath, With lengthening shadow and with ruthless- ness, Rank red rapine, cold murder, bloody death, Dumb hours of waiting and of hopelessness — If I should die, if I this life should give, Lord God in Heaven, let that moment's pain Help win for those dear ones who yet may live The world in all her loveliness again ! [44] MOODS AND MEMORIES PETER PAN'S PROMISE (A poem for very little children) Upon a day of summer sun In far off fairy Kensington To those dear gardens that are there Where everything is gay and fair, I went and sat upon the grass Beside the path where children pass, To see them as they gaily ran To greet the elfin Peter Pan. That little laughing clever boy Who plays his flute with wanton joy The livelong lovely summer day Till all the world's compelled to play, And all the birds from all the trees Come flying down the singing breeze, And men and maids from Fairyland Come dancing round him hand in hand. [45] MOODS AND MEMORIES And as I sat there by myself Sly Peter Pan, the little elf— Perhaps he thought he heard me call- Hopped down from off his pedestal, And coming over close to me He whispered in a voice of glee That some day he was going to run Away, away from Kensington— = The Eound Pond and the Serpentine, The Broad Walk that's so very fine, And all the things he held so dear Because he wished to visit here, To cross the sea some sunny day And with those other children play Whom he had never, never seen, In this land where he'd never been. And so some morning if you find Your window open and the blind All tossed aside, jump out of bed And run to greet him, for he said That he was coming here to play [46] MOODS AND MEMORIES With all good children, some fine day; So you must always be as good As little children always should, And never cross, and bold, and glum, Or Peter Pan will never come ! [47] MOODS AND MEMORIES FAITH IN FAIRIES When I was a child I used to know A lovely spot in the twilight glow, Where, half-afraid of the dimming light, And all ashamed of our growing fright, We stood in the hush of an ancient tree And heard low sounds of minstrelsy : Sweet notes of music magic and fair As the song of the wind on the summer air And the hum of waves on a silver strand, Or the song of birds in a foreign land. And then, if we had been very good The live-long day — in the shadowy wood Perhaps, perhaps 'neath a near-by tree In a swirling, whirling ring we 'd see Tiny figures all dancing wild To gladden the heart of a wide-eyed child ; Dancing, dancing as merrily As the waves that ripple a moonlit sea, As light as the dew on a half -hid flower, As fleet as the fleeting time-sped hour, [48] MOODS AND MEMORIES Till sudden we knew the day was done And vanished completely the friendly sun. Then fast, as fast as our feet could go We 'd scamper home, and with cheeks aglow Climb up-stairs to each tiny bed, And there in the nursery, what they'd said We'd whisper over, each fairy word, The things we'd seen — ('Twould be absurd To grown-up folks — but we 'd never tell What we'd seen and heard in the fairies' dell) — Till the Sandman came with his stealthy creep And we wandered off to the Land of Sleep To dream dear dreams of fairy skies That can only be seen through children's eyes. And though that was ever so long ago, And war runs riot, some day, I know, When the world again is dear and fair And the flowers abloom, I'll go back there; Back to the dear old friendly tree And the fairy dell, for I know I'll see Once again, 'cause my heart is young, And my lips still speak the olden tongue, [49] MOODS AND MEMOEIES The little crowd in the swirling ring, And my ears will hear the songs they sing, The magic music so sweet and fair As the song of the wind on the summer air, As the hum of the waves on a silver strand, Or the song of birds in a foreign land. [50] MOODS AND MEMOKIES TO A DEAD POET Dear lyric voice now stilled in sleep, No more your lips shall sing Of sun and star and sea and tree And every living thing — No more for us who linger here — But far away up There The little angel children come And cluster round your chair. And laugh with you and play with you As happy as your own — The little ones you left behind When your winged soul had flown, And oh, you sing them lullabies, Nor ever song so dear, And all of heaven grows hushed and still, And God draws close to hear. [51] MOODS AND MEMORIES TOP 0' THE MORNING! Smell of the woods in the morning; The sun shines gold through the trees, And the heavens are filled with music From the lips of the wide-eyed breeze. And who's for a plunge in the water A swim in the laughing lake? Be quick ! There is breakfast to follow And there still is the fire to make. I'm in ! What a splash ! Are you ready? Who, who would lie lazy asleep When all of the wide world is calling With the lure of the lake blue and deep? So come, that's the stuff, all together, Swim, swim with a stroke true and straight To the boat ; and the first back, the winner — Great ginger ! But swimming is great ! [52] MOODS AND MEMORIES The first back, the first one to breakfast ! Then the trail once again and the fun — The day lies alluring before us, And the morning is only begun ! [53] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE MASTER They cried aloud, " There is no God, we rule! We hold the sky and earth to our sweet sway, The sea our servant is, lightning our tool, The night, our lamps make light as sunlit day, While buildings rise like mountains at our nod — For masters are we here — There is no God ! ' ' But one who heard cried, "Answer questions three ! ' ' They bowed their heads, and he, the doubter, said, "Can ye control the rolling of the sea? Or give back life to one who long is dead? Can ye give birth to one bright summer's day?" But shamed, they answered not and went away ! [54] MOODS AND MEMOEIES AFTERNOON TEA They sat around and drank weak, watered tea; They babbled, gossiped, talked incessantly Of Mrs. So-and-So, and this and that, Of someone's assignations, someone's hat; Where does she get the money for those clothes? Why no one tells her husband goodness knows . . . And I sat still, and somehow did not care — For You were not as they — and You were there. And then You spoke : You too joined in the scandal and the sin, And answered spicy tale with spicier tale ; Your lips took on the selfsame leering grin; Your blushless cheeks as marble and as pale ; I felt the scales drop down from off my eyes That leaped to see your depthless, naked heart, Your soul revealed through its mad mesh of lies, The nothingness of You all rent apart. . • . [55] MOODS AND MEMOKIES I wish to God that You or I had died Before I saw so shattered neath mine eyes My faith in an Ideal, all my pride, My love for You, my dreams of paradise ! [56] MOODS AND MEMORIES ANTICIPATION There is joy in the flaming of the fires, But the greater pleasure lies In the anticipation of delights, desires, Half granted, half refused, The acquiescence sometimes found, confused, Shy, yet daring, in a woman 's eyes. [57] MOODS AND MEMORIES WANDER WHISPERS Can't you hear them, can't you hear them, in the bustle of the street, 'Mid the rattle of the traffic and the noise of tramping feet, 'Mid the splitting sound of sirens from the river, and the hum Of the swiftly moving autos? Can't you hear them as they come, The voices of the woodlands and the mountains and the sea And the wide and open prairies, where we're hankering to be? They are whispering at night-time, they are clamorous by day, And your heart is almost bursting as it hears the things they say, And you feel the old, old longing for the wood- lands and the wind, [58] MOODS AND MEMOKIES For the camp-fire, for the river, for the things we left behind When the summer time was over and the winter with its snow Showed the trail that led us cityward and gave the order — "Go!" But it's spring again, it's spring-time, and the ancient voices call, And you can't resist the magic of the music they let fall As they whisper of the forests, as they murmur of the sea ; Oh, it's back we must be going where a wanderer would be ! It 's farewell to dreary cities and to dreams that droop and die, For we seek again the open, and the wide, o *er- arching sky! [59] MOODS AND MEMORIES ON MORRIS STREET To-day I saw a dragon fly on Morris Street, A small thing, a gay thing, with whirring wings and fleet, And up it went and down it went, as lost as lost could be, Searching for the sunny grass and wind in shady tree. But never blade of perfumed grass, and never shadowy glen, And never song of care-free bird from out the streets of men, And never sign to point the way back to where there lie The green fields, the wide fields under God's blue sky. And so it flew, a lost thing, with whirring wings and fleet, [60] MOODS AND MEMORIES A timid thing, a frightened thing, along the dingy street; And oh, I wished to show to it the laughing trail I know To the gay fields, the green fields, where my own heart would go. [61] MOODS AND MEMORIES FREIGHTERS Whenever I wake in the morning And the smell of the sea is strong, My heart becomes filled with yearning As my soul becomes filled with song, And it's all I can do to prevent me Going down to the docks right away And boarding the very first freighter, The very first salt-spattered freighter, That's sailing for ports far to eastward And is heading for down the bay. Now, passenger ships are like ladies, And timid they be with fears ; They know not the wander spirit As they lie at their painted piers, And like ladies they stick to the fair ways Where never a buccaneer trod, But any old salt-spattered freighter, Oh, any old-time honoured freighter, Will sail to the uncharted islands And steer by its trust in God. [62] MOODS AND MEMORIES So whenever I wake in the morning And the lure of the sea is there, It's adventure that calls me, calls me, And never was call so fair, And it 's all I can do to prevent me Going down to the docks right away And boarding the very first freighter, The very first dream-laden freighter, That's headed for fathomless oceans Down the path of the dawning day! [63] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE BIG DRAYS Up and down on West Street the big drays go — Wagonloads of merchandise passing to and fro, Up from ships, and down to ships, regular as song, Ceaselessly and endlessly the whole day long. Some bear but prosaic things, sacks to fill the hold, Flour and wheat and cotton things worth a miser 's gold; Others from the deep-sea ships — fruits of for- eign lands, Spices, scents and ivory, gems and silken bands. Copra, pearl and coffee bean, chiles, hides, and wax, Sisal, cedar, ebony, cocoa, rubber, flax, Motor cars, machinery, iron rails and steel, Music, mirrors, microscopes, rope and rickshaw wheel. [64] MOODS AND MEMORIES But outward freight or inward freight, borne by straining teams, Each amid the merchandise holds its load of dreams — Little, lonely wistful dreams from many a rest- less breast For the incense laden Orient or the new lands of the West. [65] MOODS AND MEMOEIES WANDERLURE Whenever I try to settle down Find anchorage at last, There's something always comes to me With memories of the past — An olden smell, or an olden song, Or even an olden pain That wakens my heart to the wanderlure And I must fare forth again. Now, when I came back from Africa, and the soft and singing wind, I left the Cross and the Southern stars a million miles behind, I chained myself to a desk once more, and I said, "Well, here I be With my dreams all safely stored away in the arms of memory" — But only this morning I heard a song that a small street urchin sang, And the heart of me with an old desire and an olden yearning rang. MOODS AND MEMORIES I don't know why a nondescript song by a non- descript singer sung Should have wakened mine ears to another tune in a weird and foreign tongue, I don't know why a vision came of a silver and sapphire sea, Of waves that crashed on a coral reef as they laughed in white-flecked glee, A glimpse of palms, and a glistening beach, and a sun that shone on high, And bare brown backs that gleamed with sweat as they toiled 'neath the blazing sky. I don't know why, but this I know, that so was my tired heart stirred, That sweet in a small boy's trivial song a far-off song was heard, And once again there came the lure, the voice of a foreign land, The lonely veldt, and the hills, the plains, the stretches of sun-swept sand; And as it was in the long ago, once more they tuned their cries [67] MOODS AND MEMORIES To the heart of me and the lonely sea, and a dream-sweet paradise. So once again, as in days of old, I must travel the comrade sea, Must know the gulls, and the friendly sun, and the stars' gay company — For ever 'twas so, whensoever I tried to anchor me strong and fast, The hint of a dream of a tropic land came into my heart at last, Came into my heart with its olden lure and all of its olden pain — Till I slipped my moorings and headed me South, a wanderer again! For whenever I try to settle down Find anchorage at last, There's something always comes to me With memories of the past — An olden smell, or an olden song, Or even an olden pain That wakens my heart to the wanderlure And I must fare forth again, [68] IN LIGHTER VEIN MOODS AND MEMORIES THE SOLUTION I've wanted to get married and I've asked a lot of girls, And some of them were pretty, with a wealth of golden curls ; A few of them were homely, which mattered not a jot, And one or two had money, but they nearly all had not. They none would love for love alone, and what had I to give? They answered me, * ' These present days it costs SO much to live." The one or two with money said they surely did not care To share their wealth with anyone, not even on the square ; And all of them informed me of the cost of all their clothes, And as my courage sank and sank the prices rose and rose, [71] MOODS AND MEMORIES Till I again was in the slough of sorrow deep and cold And cursed the cost of living and the lack of honest gold. I've wanted to get married, and I'm going to married be; I'm going to take a little boat and sail 'way 'cross the sea; I'm going to ask a Fiji girl in those far isles divine To leave her native lovers and to come and just be mine, For Fiji girls care not for clothes — their only dress is paint — And out in those delightful isles the cost of living ain't! [72] MOODS AND MEMORIES A WOMAN'S WAY She wrote him in a letter that she never would love him; She told him that she ne 'er would be his wife ; She pointed out that ever had his prospects been too slim, That she would never share with him life's strife. Besides, there was her future, which would never let her wed ; She hoped that he would not be too much grieved, She trusted he would always look upon her as a friend — And then she wept, because he, fool, believed ! [73] MOODS AND MEMORIES 'TIS A SAD STORY, MATES A bachelor I, and you question me why, And you look at me wroth and askance, And I know that you blame, 'cause I don't share my name, And like other chaps go take a chance. But hark to the plea of most miserable me, Of censure I've earned not a jot — For the girls that would marry me I wouldn't marry, And the ones that I would — would not. There were Mabel and May — now what could I say? For I loved to distraction Elaine, But she didn't care, and oh, she was fair, And so were Belle, Mollie and Jane. Then Nan and Babette, I will never forget, By far they were best of the lot — But the girls that would marry me I wouldn't marry, And the ones that I would — would not. [74] MOODS AND MEMOKIES I would take your advice and be hitched in a trice, But what is a beggar to do When he loves Guinevere in a manner that's clear, And is bored by the worship of Lou ? So this is my plea, ah, be gentle with me, Of blame I deserve not a jot — For the girls that would marry me I wouldn't marry, And the ones that I would — would not. [75] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE ENCOUNTER Dressed in a silk of a wonderful yellow Carefully held at the front and the side, Stalked down Kampala a pukka Swahili Wife of a chieftain and swelling with pride ; Swelling with pride but no more than her ankles Weighted with bangles of silver and lead, Ear lobes that hung round the lid of a jam-pot, Streaked and beribboned the wool on her head, Never before had been seen such a vision, Never before such a lady of style, Never before such a wonderful yellow Knock you half dead at an eighth of a mile. There by a tree stood my friend Mrs. Bumbo, (Purely platonic, I give you my word. She is the wife of a Private, Buganda — Really your talk is disgrac'f 'lly absurd!) Dressed she was too in a flamboyant garment, Crimson and purple with splashes of gold; [76] MOODS AND MEMORIES Shaved was her head like a Mexican poodle, Boasted no ornaments, bizarre or bold. But Mrs. Bumbo, who dotes on fine clothing, Watched very closely the lady who passed, " Hussy,' ' she hissed, "what a terrible creature, Such style in Mengo would never be classed ! ' ' Wife of a chieftain and pukka Swahili, Wife of a Private in the K. A. R's, Chance thrown together one moment in passing, Main Street Kampala besides the bazaars ; Both very swanky and very much woman, Both very much of the Vere de la Vere — What did I hear the Swahili dame utter? ' ' Heavens, the style of the women up here ! ' 9 Main Street Kampala, the land of Uganda, Africa, Africa, far, far away! What is the difference all the world over, Woman is woman, as daylight is day ! [77] MOODS AND MEMORIES WATER AND WINE At the marriage feast of Cana when the guests sat down to dine The good Lord took the water and He changed it into wine, He changed it into wine, my lads, the Good Book lets us know, But where were prohibitionists two thousand years ago? Where were the prohibitionists, The kill-joy prohibitionists, To tell the Lord how wrong He was A long time ago? The Lord God gave us water, and the Lord God gave us wine, Each to his taste and let him be, no doubt was His design. But as the happy years rolled by the prohibi- tionist came [78] MOODS AND MEMOEIES To change the ruling of the Lord and promul- gate His shame. The bigot prohibitionist, The hill-joy prohibitionist, To change the ruling of the Lord, And promulgate His shame. The Lord God gave us darkness and the Lord God gave us light, To ease the world's unhappiness He also gave delight. Long, long ago He sanctioned it, He would not now decline To grant us all the merriment that sparkles in good wine. And yet the prohibitionists, The "holy" prohibitionists, Would kill the whole world's merriment, And take away its wine. But they will reap their harvest when ^ach "Holier than God" [79] MOODS AND MEMORIES Creeps forth to final judgment from the shelter of the sod, And the good Lord greets them coldly as He stands at Heaven's brink; "Go forth, forever thirsty, ye, with only wine to drink I" "Go, 'killjoy prohibitionists, Ye bigot prohibitionists, Forever be ye thirsty, lads, With only wine to drink!" [80] MOODS AND MEMORIES NATIVE BEER If your "boy" should come stumbling into the room One night in a manner quite frisky, Don't at once be possessed of a feeling of gloom And fear he has drunk all your whisky. He may or he mayn't, but this fact remains, That sometimes a "boy" can possess a few- brains, And though of a bust-up he still shows the stains, Be of cheer ; He has likely been having a glorious spree, A perfectly marvellous jamboree, A wonderfully roystering jubilee On beer, beer, beer. There's the beer of the Hun, and the beer from the Hop, And the beer that 's a tiny bit beery, And any of them if in time you don't stop [81] MOODS AND MEMORIES Will make you uncommonly bleary; But the tembo of Afric, that land off afar, That's purchased and drunk at a small native bar, That costs a few cents and is always at par Is the cheer ; For a native can have quite a glorious spree, A perfectly marvellous jamboree, With a few cents from you and a few cents from me For beer, beer, beer. Now I do not agree with the smug or the prig, That a curse lies in each glass of liquor. Of course, if a man cannot help act a pig, The sooner he quits it the quicker ; But a gallon of tembo if swallowed aright Will make a man game for a flirt or a fight And cause him to stay out-of-doors all the night Feeling queer, For a native can have quite a glorious spree, A perfectly marvellous jamboree, A wonderfully roystering jubilee — On beer, beer, beer! [82] MOODS AJSTD MEMORIES THE TRAGEDY Ours was a short-lived idyll, A dream of a Coney day, As there in a hot-dog wagon, By the side of the buns we lay ; And oh, but I loved you madly, And oh, how I strove to please — When you were a coy ham sandwich And I was a chunk of cheese. Ever I hoped you loved me, My sandwich so pure and fair, Till came to the shop a gourmand Who captured you from me there, Who stole you away and — ate you, In spite of my sobbing pleas — When you were a coy ham sandwich, And I was a chunk of cheese. Never will be such beauty, And ne'er will I love again, [83] MOODS AND MEMORIES My heart is so crooly broken — (That a cheese should know such pain!) And I cry for that day of heaven — To the echoing of the seas — When you were a coy ham sandwich, And I was a chunk of cheese. [84] MOODS AND MEMORIES ON THE OLD SLAVE ROAD A dusky little maiden, with demurely dancing eyes, A little water-carrier strayed out of paradise, Wandered by me slowly, on her head a pitcher load, Smiled at me in passing — on the old slave road* Mayhap her glance was all for me as I went on my way, Mayhap 'twas for another, I am not prepared to say; But, seeing her disappearing in the dark, I swiftly strode And caught her up and kissed her — on the old slave road. A moment she was startled, and then she flashed surprise, And anger gleamed and glistened in the wonder of her eyes, [85] MOODS AND MEMOKIES But sudden changed to laughter as there crashed the pitcher load, And splashed us both with water — on the old slave road. She laughed, and, oh, her laughter was the ripple of the sea ; Her lips were sweet as roses and the honey from the bee ; Then she ordered me to leave her, but the sly moon later showed A couple strolling slowly — on the old slave road ! [86] MOODS AND MEMORIES WHY NOT? (For Don Marquis) When you're working on the column, And you're looking very solemn, With miles and miles of space to fill as swiftly flies the time ; When for the very soul of you, The heart and head and whole of you, You cannot think an epigram, a poem, or a rhyme : — When Hermione is on the blink, And you are on the verge of drink, And Famous Love Affairs and such are cussedamnly shy; When Aptronymics will not apt, And deep in gloom your brain is wrapped, And Scipio the Flea has flit and oh, that flea is fly: — [87] MOODS AND MEMORIES When Bassett Digby writes no word, From Hope and Hoff yon have not heard, And yonr H. W. has got his annual vacation, When come no songs from J. A. D. I wonder will you welcome me With this here coy, coquettish pome by way of consolation? I wonder will it find a place To fill that yawning, empty space, I wonder will it make a hit and give you quite a thrill? I wonder if you'll gladly grin, "Gee that's the stuff !" — and put it in, I wonder will you publish this ? — You bet your life you will! [88] MOODS AND MEMORIES i — ■ — ■ — _— _ — _ _ — ^ — — ^— — — — — — — — CHEERO! (A Chantey) There is some as don't like liquor, be it red or be it white. {Oh, let 'em go their way, me lads, an' we'll steer clear.) There is some as thinks it sinful for a man to take a drink, That 'is soul is 'eaded 'ell- wards an' 'is body for the clink, An' from the pore damned sinful one they turn away an' shrink. {Oh, let 'em go their way, me lads, an' we'll steer clear.) There is some as is quite honest in their feelin's an' dislikes. {Hats off to 'em in charity for they're all right.) They pass up on the liquor but they do not interfere With 'em as finds their pleasure in a cheery glass o' beer, Nor clap 'em into irons like a ruddy mutineer. {Hats off to 'em in charity for they're all right.) [89] MOODS AND MEMORIES But the meanest limb o' mankind is the smug- face, bone-dry gent. (Oh, haul away, me bully boys, we're pullin' out to-day.) Who prates o' God an' goodness but who'd let a ship-mate die Afore 'e'd pass to crackin' lips a drop o' rum or rye, For, "Drink's a curse, " 'e whines at you an' shifts a fishy eye. (Oh, haul away, me bully boys, we're pullin' out to-day.) An' 'ere's to ships and sailor-men an' 'ere's to wine an' water. (Water for the ships, me lads, an' sailors for the wine.) An' 'ere's to every far-off port where sailor- men go down. An' ere's to 'em as makes the rum wherein a man can drown The lubber's cant an' preachin' an' 'is 'alo an' 'is crown. (Oh, haul away, me 'earty lads, we're 'eaded for the Line!) [90] MEMORIES MOODS AND MEMOEIES CHILDHOOD DREAMS I was to conquer nations, And You were to be their Queen, And we both were to reign forever, Till the last of the earth was seen. Our lives were to be so happy, All sunshine and choc late creams — 'Twas thus in the days long over, Children, we dreamed our dreams. I am a struggling poet, And You are a simple maid; But life we are facing together, Undaunted and unafraid, And may be we're striving for something That distantly, faintly gleams — But are we not happier far, dear, Than ever we dreamed in dreams ? [93] MOODS AND MEMORIES MAGIC Last night you played for me an olden tune, So fraught with love, and memory and song, That I again was young, and golden June Into my heart crept smiling. I was strong. As strong, my dear, as in the long ago, Beneath the cloaking, comfortable sky, Beside the grass and hedges wild a-row, Beloved of Love we wandered, you and I. But then the notes died down within the room> And drooped your head that once shone burnished gold, And all was still, save in the gath'ring gloom There throbbed the heart of Time . . . and I was old. [94] MOODS AND MEMORIES A PHANTASY I never in a garden at the close of evening walk But that it seems the flowers to me in whisper language talk. As children are the little buds, in any garden fair, And nursed as such with tenderness and nursed they be with care. So when I press my lips against the petals of a rose, I do but kiss a tiny mouth that only sweetness knows. And when a wounded, broken bloom droops sad and piteously, I know somewhere a little child so droops, ah, patiently. And never stirs the stranger with his scythe among the flowers [95] MOODS AND MEMORIES But that I see grim Death himself numbering baby hours. Then, sweet, above the whispering from out the starlit dome, I hear the voice of Him who comes to bear the bruised things home. [96] MOODS AND MEMOEIES CONQUERING FAITH Soldier, Soldier, you have returned! What have you seen? Brave blood running red, Shrapnel shrieking overhead, And the spirit of the dead That indomitably burned — Where I've been, where I've been! I have heard the victors ' cries Leading the advance ; I have seen Her shining eyes — Unconquerable France; And the Faith that nations know When they join to strike the blow, Courage aiding, 'gainst the foe — Courage and Romance. These I've heard and these I've seen — ■ (God's blessing on the dead!) Home — a woman's brave, clear eyes, [97] MOODS AND MEMORIES Sometimes wistful, to the skies Gazing, overhead. Brave heart and brave soul Hiding from the world All the sorrow in her heart, In her slowly breaking heart, That his death has hurled — He who loved her and who died In his young and lusty pride On the fields of France. These IVe heard, and these I've seen, Where I've been, where I've been! [98] MOODS AND MEMORIES NOSTALGIA The wind came o'er the sea this morn And touched me on the lips, And my ears were filled with whisperings From old adventure ships ; From old ships and gold ships; And the west sun sinking slow; A young heart that was my heart Full many a year ago. There came the pungent odour and Tired perfume of a town Where the coral streets were blinding white As the blazing sun shone down; A spicy smell and an incense smell ; And a far-off coolie's cry; An old quest and a bold quest Under the southern sky. Small wonder that the memories Woke in my heart the fret, [99] MOODS AND MEMORIES The dumb, dull, dormant longings for The days I can't forget — The rare days and the fair days, And the song that stirred the sea, A brave heart and a young heart That was once the heart of me. What wonder that these eyes were filled With a blinding rush of tears As they visioned through their wistfulness The dreams of olden years; The sweet dreams and the fleet dreams, The dreams that would not stay — Though a wild heart was a child heart, And the dear world made for play! [100] MOODS AND MEMORIES NIGHT MEMORIES I like to lie in my bed o' nights with the clean white sheets around me, And dreamily think of those other days and those other nights that found me Wrapped in a blanket, out on the veldt, my face upturned to the sky, And the song of the open filling my ears along with the night wind's sigh. I love to hear through the hum of the streets the palm-tree 's quivering note, The thousand and one little lonely sounds that bring a lump to the throat, The jackal's cry, and the lion's grunt, and the breath of sleeping men, The cough of the sentry keeping watch — and I hear them all again. Hear them all as I lie in bed, and see with dear memory's eyes [101] MOODS AND MEMORIES The Southern Cross and the brilliant stars light- ing the southern skies ; See them all as I saw them of old, ere sleep came tumbling down To bring me dreams of a far-away home in the arms of the turbulent town. And then when dawn comes creeping to me here in my soft white bed I waken up as a million thoughts come rushing into my head; And somehow I miss the rustle and stir of an army, the short night done, Waking to toil and the long, long trek of the long, long day begun. For never a man with good red blood coursing his pulsing veins Who's tramped the tropical open veldt, the desert, the hills, the plains, But sometimes pines for the days gone by, the life so brave and free, And the lonely nights in the lonely lands, over the lonely sea ! [102] MOODS AND MEMORIES NIGHTMARE Home, and dear peace, Familiar faces and old familiar highways/ Byways, And the sweet snn shining o'er it all. . . . I could forget I ever had known war So strange it seems, So very long ago, away so far; And yet in dreams, Sometimes o' nights I hear again The bullet's hiss, the cannon's roar, and the broken cry Of a soul in pain; And I see before dim dream-filled eyes A bleeding form that broken lies Upturned to the sky, His brains scattered, and no sound From pain-distorted lips That leer and grin. . . . [103] MOODS AND MEMORIES The clotted blood congeals upon the ground Red, and crimson red, as drop by drop it drips, Slow, Slow, Slow. And fear possesses me, A queer, strange, wild, uncanny, fear, As the vultures swarm in the darkened sky, And suddenly I know That broken, bleeding, piteous thing to be What once was I. . . . And then I wake "White sheets about me, And the well-remembered room. [104] MOODS AND MEMORIES IN PORT Whenever I walk by the shore of the sea And the soft winds blow, An old pain awakes in my heart And I have the wish to go — To board the first salt-spattered craft, Where the screeching winches whine, With a bronzed old skipper upon the bridge, And outward bound for the Line. The fever lasts till the sunset falls And the night dips down, And I turn away from the haunting sea To the wide-eyed town, For I know that a light in a window there Holds welcome out to me; And peace for a wanderer's weary heart Lies not across the sea. Oh, up the world and down the world A man would go [105] MOODS AND MEMORIES To still the ache in his wander heart When the soft winds blow; But he who has travelled the restless sea Is woefully old and wise — He knows that peace can be only found Under his own home skies. [106] MOODS AND MEMORIES TWO MEETINGS The damned old ambulance swayed and lurched Across the shell-torn road, But stopped where a dusty column of men In marching order strode. From out of the ranks you came to me To wish me luck of the best — And you were marching the Eastward trail, And I was headed West. When out of the hospital once again I marched the selfsame road, I came to a spot where weirdly and wan Under the starshine showed A poor little cross that bore your name. (God grant you kindliest rest!) But I was bound for the Eastward, then, And you had travelled West. [107] MOODS AND MEMORIES A TROPIC NIGHT The air sweet with jasmine and the scent Of spices, and the salt tang of the sea ; A soft wind sighing in tall palms, the leaves Rustling with a gentle, soothing song, And swaying in the moonlight as a maid Upon the arms of dream to music's lure. Then sand, far stretching to the line of sea — That lonely loveliness of silver sheen And lazy breakers falling on the shore In scintillating, diamond points of light. Behind, the town of tinted walls With roofs of palm-leaf thatch, and coral streets Strange, winding in and out amid the palms, Where palely, a still, tall, stately minaret Rises in the moonlight to the stars, Pointing, as from countless ages past [108] MOODS AND MEMORIES The mosques of men have risen to the skies In mute acclaim of Him whose presence is Forever 'mid the lovely, moonlit world Long, long ago created that men's souls Might dimly sense at last, in wonderment, The glory, and the beauty that is God. [109] MOODS AND MEMORIES ROADS Roads I have known come back to me In memory again, The far-flung roads to anywhere, Sun-scorched, or drenched with rain, Roads I have tramped with Happiness, And Homesickness, and Pain. One led across the sunset hills, When I was very small, And filled my heart with restlessness As came the Wander call, And I would go far travelling When I was grown and tall. And then one day I followed it — The lure that called and led — Across the open, lovely world For "On, Go on!" it said, And when one road was left behind Another loomed ahead. [110] MOODS AND MEMOKIES Roadways I have loved and known ! Roads I yet must know ! There is no peace for Wanderers Upon this earth below. 1 wish that I had never tramped The old Road, long ago! [Ill] MOODS AND MEMORIES PRISONERED I would forget old tropic skies, A dear land I know, Tall palm trees by a singing sea Where soft winds blow, For the memory breaks the heart of me That longs so much to go. And I can shut the vision out — The little, bluest bay, The stately liners anchored there, The diving boys at play, And the great sun, the glad sun, Shining on the day. The snake-like shore of silvered sand, The tumbled little town, The huddled houses blinding white With palm-thatched roof, or brown Or red tiled roofs, beside the streets That wander up and down. [112] MOODS AND MEMOEIES But I cannot still the old sounds — The pungent winds that blow, The coolies singing in the dark Beneath the white stars glow, And memory hurts the heart of me That prisonered, cannot go. [113] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE LOST GRAVE We buried him upon the veldt where ne'er be- fore had trod The foot of man. We left him there alone with Death and God. We had no wood to make a cross, no stone to mark the place. The winds blow strong. If we should seek we now would find no trace. We only know that somewhere there in deepest sleep he lies Amid the sun-scorched loneliness, under the sapphire skies. And he had loved to tell us how he would go home some day To the big town, his own town for his well- earned play. [114] MOODS AND MEMOKIES And so I never walk along the crowded streets of men He loved so well, but that I see in memory again — The broad veldt, the lone veldt, the starlit skies, And his lost grave in Africa where the night wind sighs. [115] MOODS AND MEMORIES DARESSALAAM Now Paris is a brave town, a fair town, a play town, And London is a solemn place where traffic rumbles by, And New York is a busy town, a young town, a gay town, But Daressalaam lies lazy underneath a southern sky. And Paris is for laughter, and London is for thought, And New York is for money all the live-long day, But if your heart seeks restfulness, and if for peace you've sought There's Daressalaam that lazy lies beside a sapphire bay. Once on a time, long, long ago, its streets of coral white [116] MOODS AND MEMORIES Re-echoed when slave-traders came for freight to bear o'erseas; And later on the transports grim unloaded in the night, And Daressalaam was noisy in the soft south- ern breeze. But now beside the hospital that looks across the sea The little graves in rows are white, (Ah, youth that died too soon!) The sentinel, tall palm-trees sigh and sway seductively, And Daressalaam lies lovely underneath a southern moon. And the streets are very quiet now, perhaps again some day With traffic and with commerce they will once more crowded be ; But now there's only peacefulness, and a weary heart would stray In Daressalaam so lonely by a far-off south- ern sea. [117] MOODS AND MEMOEIES REMEMBRANCE I try to think I never knew at all The old life that lures me far away; I try to think I do not hear it call, And yet I hear it every night and day. And even now I know in that far land, A warm wind blows softly from the sea Where naked children play upon the sand Beneath the palms, as night falls suddenly. There sounds the muezzin's cry to evening prayer, And peace a moment reigns in the bazaars As busy merchants to the temples fare To greet their God, beneath the singing stars. The oil lamps flare fickly in the wind, The scent of incense permeates the air. . . . Ah, heart of me that knew it all be blind, Know not the dream that haunts us, lures us there ! [118] MOODS AND MEMORIES PERFUMES Roses in an old-world garden Fair and far away, Sweet-pea and syringa walks Hollyhocks so gay. . . . I never see a soft, green lawn Or scent a full-blown rose, But my heart goes back to England, And a dear, old garden close. Jasmine gives me Aden back. Incense brings Port Said. Dust and sun, the naked veldt And rifles spitting lead. Tang of tar wakes in my breast Storm-defying ships ; Southern seas in touch of salt To nostrils and to lips. [119] MOODS AND MEMORIES And though all bring memories, One holds a spot apart, Sacred to its loveliness, Cornered in my heart. Sweet-pea and syringa walks, Hollyhocks so gay, Eoses and an old-world garden Oh, so far away ! [120] MOODS AND MEMORIES SEA-HUNGER I wonder will I ever know again The open waters of the lovely sea, The gulls ' screech, the waves ' song, The whisper of the wind Around the rigging of a ship. I wonder will I know once more The queer, strange, pleasant pain Of leaving well-loved lands for well-loved lands — Cathay for Arcady. I wonder will the days, the years be long Before I greet again and find, As found of old, with ecstacy and marvelling, The hidden secrets that are only known To those who sail the sea in ships And love the sea, [121] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE WIFE'S VIGIL I look down the long road that leads to the sea, And you'd think to see me smiling that I was gay and free, But my heavy heart is breaking as I gaze along the road Away into that yesterday and the stars that softly showed The life of me, the soul of me, with laughter on his lips, Tramping down the bright road to outward- faring ships. The long road is a sad road that leads to the sea, But the night is filled with wonderness and haunting mystery, And I'm praying God of Sailors though my heart be cold and numb That if I smiling keep the tryst perhaps at last will come [122] MOODS AND MEMORIES The life of me, the soul of me, with laughter on his lips, Tramping up the old road from anchor- riding ships. But dark is the long road that leads to the sea, And it's well I know the icy fear that gnaws the heart of me — For, "His ship is lost, his ship is lost," the gaunt-eyed women say — But I must keep the promised tryst, perhaps will come some day The life of me, the soul of me, with laughter on his lips, ■ Tramping up the glad road from weather- beaten ships. [123] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE TORCH No better or no worse were we, But when the summons came, We flung our follies far behind And tried to play the game, And consecrated our young lives Purged as with living flame. We knew the zero hour and all The wonder of the dawn, The shrieking hell of shrapnel rain — And now, they all are gone, And of that star-eyed laughing crew One, I alone, live on. And oh, I dream of the Ideal, The Faith our hearts gave place, And pray to God to hold me true And grant me strength and grace, That when I die I may be free To look them in the face. [124] MOODS AND MEMORIES OLD CAMPAIGNERS (For "Trot" Anderson) When we 'd come home we met one night, And lived them o'er again — The tongue-parched treks to water holes Across the sun-scorched plain, Or through the bullet-hiding bush, Where many a man was slain. We spoke of far field hospitals — White tents on whiter sands ; Of comrades known in crowded hours Who waved a farewell hand, And dying found the final trail To the last and fairest land. We talked of dangers we had known (To memory now dear), Of brimful days adventuring, With Romance ever near; [125] MOODS AND MEMORIES And in the room old Wanderlure Was there for us to hear. And so we said how glad we were To be safe home again; But wistfulness was in your voice, And in my heart stirred pain. . . , I dared not look you in the eyes That questioned mine in vain. [126] MOODS AND MEMOKIES THE GAKDEN I know a lovely garden, Far away, and far away, That is sweet with scent of roses All the snnny summer day; And I never see that garden, See in dreams that lovely garden, But I think of God's own heaven Where the little angels play. You enter from the croquet lawn And slowly step across The ancient steps of rude-cut stone, Now velvet-soft with moss. Along a little grassy walk, Syringa on each side, To where the laughing lavender Is blossoming in pride. [127] MOODS AND MEMORIES And then another step or two Into a sky-capped room, L Where everywhere, and everywhere, The roses are in bloom. You find a seat beside the pond, And underneath a tree, You hear the roses echoing The low wind's melody. And if because it is so sweet, You fall to dreaming there — Why, that is what that garden's for, And who is there to care? And so I love that garden, Far away, and far away, [Where the fretful world of toiling Is forgotten, flung away ; And I never see that garden, See in dreams that lovely garden, But I think of God's own heaven Where the little angels play. [128] MOODS AND MEMOEIES LITTLE LIGHTS When the weary day is over And I leave the city's ways, My heart goes winging southwards To the smiling sunny days; To the palm-trees singing softly As the still night clambers down, And the little lights gleam brightly, Gleam and glisten welcome brightly, From the little white-walled houses In a tiny tropic town. I hear the muezzin calling From the white-domed minaret, And the magic of the summons Holds and haunts my senses yet. I watch the stars as, shyly, They stoop to kiss the bay That flings them back their glory In a shower of golden spray. [129] MOODS AND MEMORIES Then my heart commences singing As it sang so long ago, Beneath the crooning palm-trees In the sunset's fading glow, When dear other days were over And the nights came creeping down, And I found them gleaming brightly — Little lights all gleaming brightly From the welcoming wee houses In a far-off foreign town. [130] LOVE SONGS MOODS AND MEMORIES SWEETHEART OF LONG AGO Sweetheart of the Long Ago, the Southern Cross is shining, The wind is in the palm-trees and the wind is o'er the sea, It's whispering and whispering with all its old repining, And oh! it comes a-stealing to the lonely heart of me. It brings dear, dim, unbidden dreams, it brings unbidden glories, The memory of the eyes of you with wonder glowing there, The golden hours in golden days when life was fairy stories, The laughter-loving lips of you, the perfume of your hair. It whispers and it whispers, and I hear it softly sighing [133] MOODS AND MEMORIES The intimate and precious things that once you said to me — Ah, Sweetheart of the years ago, my saddened heart is crying With lonely, wistful longings for the dreams that ne'er can be. L 134 ] MOODS AND MEMORIES I WILL FOEGET I know that in a year or two I will have quite forgotten you — Your eyes grey-hazel and your hair Wind-tossed about and glorious fair, Your slim young form, your radiant ways That lure me, haunt me through the days. Some one will careless speak your name, But it will never wake the flame Of olden longing and desire, For quenched will be the olden fire ; And yet 'twill stir in idleness A thought of you with tenderness. And I will dream a little while Of your dear-loved caressing smile, And wonder how and where you fared, And wonder why I ever cared, And think how in the long ago I lived, and dreamed, and loved you so. [135] MOODS AND MEMORIES And then I'll shut old memory's door, And smile, and think of you no more. But now I cannot laugh or play For thinking of you all the day. . . e I wish the interim were done And it were nineteen twenty one. [ 136 ] MOODS AND MEMORIES PERHAPS Perhaps some day When the fighting and killing of men is o'er, Perhaps I may. . . . Perhaps I may when the lust of blood And the flash of steel And the roar Of guns that crash and blaze, And the endless days No more Are mine or me ; Perhaps there 11 be One to welcome and caress, Bless, And take into her heart — Me. Perhaps I may Some distant day Claim my own — (Ah, the hours flown [137] MOODS AND MEMORIES And the dreams dead!) One who has not forgot, The years remembered The hopes far-flung, The light that lies In lovers' eyes And never dies When hearts are young. [138] MOODS AND MEMORIES LOSS I thought that love would come to me Red flamed and burning, And bear me down the orchid way Of no returning. I dreamed that in a swoon of joy My wild heart would greet The heart of love, the lips of love Passionate and sweet. I did not know that love would come With no brave token, With neither flaming fire nor flower, And no word spoken. . . . Oh, lonely world, and empty skies I And my heart broken. [139] HOODS AND MEMORIES ROSE PETALS I remember that her eyes were very blue And sweet with swiftly changing lights That melted into liquid loveliness When she was glad and smiled; Or in distress Seemed as deep mountain pools of woe, Mysterious and grey, A-glow With velvet shadows dancing As sunshine sometimes dances Through the ever-lovely, ever-friendly trees In the breeze of an April day. She was most gloriously tall And still more gloriously fair, A rose of loveliness; Her hair Deep golden brown with scent of wind-wooed flowers ; I loved to press [140] MOODS AND MEMORIES My lips against its silken softness, To caress, Withdraw each comb and pin And let it fall Tumbling like the sunshine o'er her shoulders, Hear her chide Me gently for the havoc I had wrought And then forgive me when I cried Repentance, Her eyes glistening as the stars when God smiles, And her lips, red, and moist, and near, And very dear, Whispering, murmuring in my ear, Then creeping, smilingly apart, Seductively, against my cheek, till lip to lip, And form to form, I crushed her to my heart, As a man will crush the petals of a flower he loves. , , . [141] MOODS AND MEMORIES KNOWLEDGE I know this same sun blazes in the sky In Araby where spices fill the air ; I know that even now the palm-trees sigh Of love forgot and happiness out there. I know that if I dare to shut my eyes, My heart will winging go to olden hours, To little happy peeps at paradise, To brown hands garlanded with singing flowers. I know that if I dream the silent night, For all my grief a mantle will be made — But, dare I face the questioning cold light, The dawn at morning? Heart — I am afraid! [142] MOODS AND MEMORIES THE MESSAGE If I did make the bitter tears From lovely eyes to flow Because I trampled on her heart, Unknowing, long ago, Go tell her now, Little Song — At last, I know. Go tell her that whatever hurt, Or pain, in days far flown, Whatever careless deed of mine Once made her heart to moan, The same, and haunting hours of grief, I too, have known. Go tell her that the heart of me Cries out to hers my pain, The prayers unanswered, dreams unfilled, The broken hopes, all vain ; Go ask her dear forgiveness, Song — Her love again. [143] MOODS AND MEMORIES SO WORLDLY WISE WERE WE So worldly wise were we that we could play The game of Love with cynic touch and light, Drink deep of lips beneath the starry night, Walk arm-entwined a-down the singing day. So versed were we in all the wiles and arts, The tricks of Love, not one but that we knew, We did not fear to think, or say, or do The every prompting of our shallow hearts. And then one day I kissed your lips good-bye, And watched you going down your own far way. We said "The game has ended in a tie." And we were very cynical and gay. I did not know your hurt. You never guessed The grief that I too harboured in my breast. [144] MOODS AND MEMORIES TEARS ARE VAIN Ay, men have gone to far Cathay, And men have sailed to Spain, And men have trekked in India, And all come home again — So dry your tears with laughter, dear, For tears are only vain. For tears are only vain, my dear — The perfume of the rose The ne'er the sweeter is for rain It never, never knows; And wind that is so cruel here In far lands fairer blows. And though he be in Africa, Or on the Spanish Main, Or lost in lure of Gobi's sands, Be glad — and not in vain — For in his heart there is a dream And he'll come home again 1 [145] MOODS AND MEMORIES FOREVER Forever and forever, dear, To cherish and to hold; More precious than the dreams of men And all men's mortal gold; More beautiful than southern stars And sun on waters blue ; More wonderful than all the world — The radiant heart of you. Forever and forever, dear, To love and to adore ; Naught else I ask of things that be Till time throbs on no more ; Till time is dead, and tears are dead, And all the world is done, And stars light not the darkened skies, Nor lonely moon, nor sun. [146] MOODS AND MEM OKIES Forever and forever, dear, (Ah, dream that is to be!) But you and I of all the world For all eternity. . . . Oh, grant I may be worthy of . The trust reposed in me. [147] MOODS AND MEMORIES BECAUSE OF A DAY Because of a day, one summer, A sun-lit, leafy lane, A slow wind blowing softly, I will not tramp again A sunny, woodland wilderness, But that I will know pain. No more will come caressing The soft wind blowing free, But that I will surrender Unto the sorcery Of sun, and wind and woodland lane, And you in memory. A little hour of dreaming, (Ah, futile hope, and vain) A moment's old-time gladness Or ever comes the rain, The ghost of your dear loveliness, And then — heart-break and pain. [148] MOODS AND MEMORIES PORT 0> CALL For I was but a wanderer, Of all the world and over Until it came that I met you, My fair friend, my lover. And then no more I wished to roam, No lure lay in the skies. I only sought the anchorage Of your dear, kind eyes. But now my ship sails on again Across the lonely sea, And my heart is sad as the sad night wind That sighs, tired, brokenly. [149] Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 (724)779-2111 ■ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS II HUM II III III 015 939 781 6 iiill iliil jii , mi | h u « \k\\ i I f I II II lill 1 I I i f H ' f f'MPP Ml" HI (i h hi H! fJ b III nv bIHhP 1 Hih'HHihH •Hlfi HI t II III! i { II III ii[jfi ilOfcfiM M„„, ,, HfHPn'fPii'nHIUiP"" liftJiiiljsilnijjillhjh in awMg IhIi Ij" !fl!ll