^ubaSSS^iCr:^^'-: 
 
 ^ 
 
 TWO 
 
 RICHARD V\7TI 
 
 04;0-j- 
 
 r r^X A 
 
 i-oiq 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Shelf ....J..S.i I 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
TWO WORLDS, AND OTHER POEMS 
 
^j 7^. tV. GILDER 
 
 I. THE CK.EW T)AY 
 
 II. THE CELESTIAL TASSIOCT^ 
 
 III. LYRICS 
 
 /F. TWO WORLDS, AND OTHER TOEMS 
 
TWO WORLDS # AND 
 OTHER POEMS ^^ BY 
 RICHARD WATSON GILDER 
 
 t' 
 
 c>ix%<4y\j^ 
 
 
 
 ic- 
 
 
 i-U 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE 
 
 
 CENTURY CO. N. Y. 
 
 
 1891 
 
 
 <o 
 

 Copyright, 1891, 
 
 By Richard Watson Gilder. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 The De Vinne Press. 
 
 .^ 
 
CONTENTS 
 I 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Two Worlds ii 
 
 I. The Venus of Milo. 
 U. Michael Angelo's Slave. 
 
 II 
 
 The Star in the City 15 
 
 Moonlight 17 
 
 "I Care Not if the Skies are White" ... 20 
 
 Contrasts 21 
 
 Serenade. For Music 22 
 
 Largess 24 
 
 Indoors, at Night 25 
 
 The Absent Lover 26 
 
 " To-NiGHT the Music Doth a Burden Bear " . . 27 
 
 Sanctum Sanctorum 28 
 
 " Ah, Time, Go not so Soon " 30 
 
 The Gift 31 
 
 " The Years are Angels " 34 
 
 " In Her Young Eyes" 34 
 
 " Yesterday, When We Were Friends " . . . 35 
 
 A Night Song. For the Guitar 36 
 
 Leo 37 
 
6 CONTENTS 
 
 III 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Brothers 41 
 
 Love, Art, and Time. On a picture entitled " The Por- 
 trait," ty Will H. Low 42 
 
 The Dancers. On a picture entitled " Summer," by T. 
 
 W. Dewing 43 
 
 The Twenty-Third of April 44 
 
 Emma Lazarus 45 
 
 The Twelfth of December 46 
 
 IV 
 
 Sheridan (1S88) 49 
 
 Sherman (1891) 52 
 
 Pro Patria. In Memory of a Faithful Chaplain. Rev. 
 
 William H. Gilder, A. M. ; Fortieth N. Y. Volunteers . 54 
 
 Failure and Success 59 
 
 J. R. L. On his Birthday 59 
 
 Napoleon 60 
 
 The White Tsar's People 61 
 
 V 
 
 Hide not Thy Heart! 67 
 
 " The Poet from His Own Sorrow " . . . .70 
 
 "White, Pillared Neck" 71 
 
COXTEA'TS 
 
 7 
 
 PAGE 
 
 'Great Nature is an Army Gay" 72 
 
 ' Life IS THE Cost" 74 
 
 The Prisoner's Thought 76 
 
 The Condemned 79 
 
 ' Sow Thou Sorrow " 79 
 
 Temptation 80 
 
 A Midsummer Meditation 81 
 
 ' As DoiH the Bird " 83 
 
 Visions 84 
 
 I. " Cast into the Pit." 
 11. " Came to me Once." 
 III. " With Full-toned Beat." 
 
 With a Cross of Immortelles 86 
 
 The P.\ssing of Christ 87 
 
 Credo 92 
 
 NoN Sine Dolore 95 
 
 VI 1 
 
 Ode : Read before the Society of the Phi Beta Kappa, Har- 
 vard University, June 26, 1890 ..... 105 
 
 AFTER-SONG. 
 
 To Rosamond 115 
 
 Decorations by H. de K. 
 
TWO WORLDS 
 
 THE VENUS OF MILO 
 
 G 
 
 RACE, majesty, and the calm bliss of life; 
 No conscious war 'twixt human will and duty; 
 Here breathes, forever free from pain and strife, 
 The old, untroubled pagan world of beauty. 
 
 MICHAEL ANGELO'S SLAVE 
 
 Of life, of death the mystery and woe, 
 
 Witness in this mute, carven stone the whole. 
 
 That suffering smile were never fashioned so 
 Before the world had wakened to a soul. 
 
II 
 
THE STAR IN THE CITY 
 
 AS down the city street 
 I pass at the twilight hour, 
 'Mid the noise of wheels and hoofs 
 That grind on the stones, and beat,- 
 Upward, by spire and tower, 
 Over the chimneys and roofs 
 Climbs my glance to the skies, 
 And I see, with a glad surprise, 
 A mist with a core of light. 
 
 Slowly, as grows the night, — 
 As the sky turns blue from gray, — 
 Slowly it beams more bright, 
 And keeps with me on my way. 
 
 Soul of the twilight star 
 That leads me from afar. 
 
1 6 THE STAR IN THE CITY 
 
 Spirit that keener glows 
 
 As the dayhght darker grows, — 
 
 That leaps the chasm of blue 
 
 Where the cross-street thunders through, 
 
 And follows o'er roof and spire, 
 
 In the night-time soaring higher; 
 
 I know thee, and only I, — 
 
 Thou comrade of the sky, — 
 
 Star of the poet's heart, 
 
 The light and soul of his art. 
 
MOONLIGHT 
 
 17 
 
 MOONLIGHT 
 
 'T IS twelve o' the clock. 
 
 The town is still; 
 As gray as a rock 
 
 From gable to sill 
 Each cottage is standing. 
 
 The narrow street 
 
 (Where the tree-tops meet), 
 From the woods to the landing, 
 Is black with shadows; 
 
 The roofs are white, 
 And white are the meadows; 
 
 The harbor is bright : 
 
 Can this be night ? 
 
MOONLIGHT 
 
 'Tis twelve o' the clock. 
 
 The town is still; 
 As still as a stock 
 
 From harbor to hill. 
 The moon's broad marge 
 
 Has no stars near, 
 
 Far ofif how clear 
 They shine, how large! 
 Something is strange 
 
 In the air, in the light ; 
 Come forth ! Let us range 
 
 In the black, in the white, 
 
 Through the day-like night. 
 
 Ill 
 
 In the elm trees all 
 
 No flutter, no twitter; 
 From the granite wall 
 The small stars glitter. 
 
MOONLIGHT 
 
 A filmy thread 
 
 My forehead brushes; 
 
 A meteor rushes 
 From green to red. 
 Naught is but the bhss 
 
 Of this dark, of this wliite, 
 Of these stars, — of this kiss, 
 
 O my Love and m\' Light 
 
 In the day and the night. 
 
20 "/ CARE NOT IF THE SKIES ARE WHITE' 
 
 " I CARE NOT IF THE SKIES ARE WHITE " 
 
 I CARE not if the skies are white, 
 
 Nor if the fields are gold ; 
 I care not whether 't is black or bright, 
 Or winds blow soft or cold ; 
 
 But O the dark, dark w^oods, 
 For thee, and me, and love. 
 
 Let all but us at last depart, 
 
 The great Avorld say farewell ! 
 This is the kingdom of the heart, 
 Where only three may dwell; 
 
 And O the dark, dark woods. 
 For thee, and me, and love. 
 
CONTA'ASTS 
 
 CONTRASTS 
 
 Thundkr in the north sky, 
 Sunshine in the south ; 
 
 Frowning eyes and forehead 
 And a smiHn"; mouth. 
 
 Maiden in the morning, — 
 
 Love her! Yes — but fear her! 
 
 In the moony shadows — 
 Nearer, nearer, nearer ! 
 
SERENADE 
 
 SERENADE 
 
 (for music) 
 
 Deep in the ocean of night 
 
 A pearl through the darkness shines; 
 Asleep in the garden of night 
 
 A lily's head reclines; 
 Afar in the forest of night 
 
 Dreams the nightingale ; 
 Clouds in the sky of night 
 
 Make one bright star grow pale. 
 
 O thou, sweet soul of my love, 
 
 Art my pearl, my lily-flower; 
 
 Thou, hiding heart of my love, 
 
SliREXADJ-: 23 
 
 Art my bird, in thy maiden bower; 
 Heart of my only love 
 
 That- shin'st in the heavens afar — 
 Thou, in the night of love, 
 
 Art my one, dear, trembling star. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Let me (.Iraw thee to the light 
 
 Pearl of the shadowy sea ! 
 Awake, thou lily of light, 
 
 Turn thy face divine on me ! 
 Arouse thee, bird of the night, 
 
 Let thy voice to my voice reply! 
 Star of thy lover's night, 
 
 Shine forth or I die — I die! ' 
 
24 
 
 LARGESS 
 
 LARGESS 
 
 Sweet mouth, dark eyes, deep heart, — 
 
 All of beauty, all of glamour heaven could fashion 
 With its divinest art; 
 
 A woman's life and love, a woman's passion : 
 
 But these, at last, to win, 
 
 Land, or sea, or hell, or heaven might well be 
 ravished 
 At price of any sin, — 
 
 Yet freely all she on her lover lavished. 
 
INDOORS, A T NIGHT 
 
 25 
 
 INDOORS, AT NIGHT 
 
 The window's white, the candle's red. 
 
 Show evening falleth overhead ; 
 
 The candle's red, the window's black. 
 
 And earth is close in midnight's sack; 
 
 The candle fades. 
 
 The midnight shades 
 
 Turn suddenly a starry blue — 
 
 Anil now to dreams, my soul, of you ! 
 
26 THE ABSENT LOVER 
 
 THE ABSENT LOVER 
 
 The purple of the summer fields, the dark 
 
 Of forests, and the upward mountain sweejD — 
 
 Broken by crags, and scar of avalanche ; 
 
 The trembling of the tops of million trees; 
 
 A world of sunlight thrilled with winds of dawn; 
 
 All these I feel, I breathe, all these I am 
 
 When with closed eyes I bring thy presence near, 
 
 And touch thy spirit with my spirit's love. 
 
TO-NIGHT THE MUSIC" 
 
 27 
 
 "TO-NIGHT THE MUSIC DOTH A BURDEN 
 BEAR" 
 
 To-NiGHT the music doth a burden bear, — 
 One word that moans and murmurs; doth exhale 
 Tremulously as perfume on the air 
 From out a rose blood-red, or lily pale; 
 The burden is thy name, dear soul of me, 
 Which the rapt melodist unknowing all 
 Still doth repeat through fugue and reverie ; 
 Thy name, to him unknown, to me doth call — 
 And weeps my heart at every music-fall. 
 
SANCTUM SANCTORUM 
 
 SANCTUM SANCTORUM 
 
 I THOUGHT I knew the mountain's every mood, 
 Gray, black with storms, or ht by hghtening dawn ; 
 But once in evening twihght came a spell 
 Upon its brow, that held me with new power; 
 A look of unknown beauty, a deep mood 
 Touched with a sorrow as of human kind. 
 
 I thought I knew full well my comrade's face. 
 
 But a new face it was to me this day. 
 
 She sat among the worshipers and heard 
 
 The preacher's voice, yet listened not, but leaned 
 
 Her head unto a tone whose accents fell 
 
 On her sweet spirit only. Deep the awe 
 
 Struck then upon me, for my friend no more 
 
SAXCTi'M SAA'CTOA'UM 29 
 
 Scemetl to be near, as with forgetting gaze, 
 And piteous features steeped in tenderness, 
 She thought on things unspeakable, — unknown 
 To all the world beside. 
 
 Ill 
 
 \\'hen forth doth pass 
 In holy pilgrimage and awful quest, 
 The soul of thy soul's comrade, thou must stand 
 In silence by, and let it move alone 
 And unattended far to the inner shrine: 
 Thou canst but wait, and bow^ thine head, and pray; 
 And well for thee if thou may'st prove so pure, — 
 Ended that hour, — thy comrade thou regain'st. 
 Thine as before, or even more deeply thine. 
 
30 ''AH, TIME, GO NOT SO SOON'' 
 
 "AH, TIME, GO NOT SO SOON" 
 
 Ah, Time, go not so soon, 
 
 I would not thus be used, I would forego that boon ; 
 
 Turn back, swift Time, and let 
 
 Me many a year forget ; 
 
 Let her be strange once more, — an unfamiliar tune, 
 
 An unimagined flower, 
 
 Not known till that mute, wondrous hour 
 
 When first we met ! 
 
THE GIFT 
 
 31 
 
 THE GIFT 
 
 Life came to me and spoke : 
 " A palace for thee I have built 
 Wherein to take thy pleasure ; 
 I have filled it with priceless treasure ; 
 Seven days shalt thou dwell therein, 
 Thy joy shall be keener than sin, 
 Without the stain of guilt — 
 Enter the door of oak ! " 
 
 I entered the oaken door ; 
 
 Wfthin, no ray of light, 
 
 I saw no golden store. 
 
 My heart stood still with fright ; 
 
32 THE GIFT 
 
 To curse Life was I fain ; 
 Then one unseen before 
 Laid in my own her hand, 
 And said : " Come thou and know 
 This is the House of Woe, — 
 I am Life's sister, Pain." 
 
 HI 
 
 Through many a breathless way 
 In dark, on dizzying height, 
 She led me through the day 
 And into the dreadful night; 
 My soul was sore distressed 
 And wildly I longed for rest; — 
 Till a chamber met my sight, 
 Far off", and hid, and still, 
 With diamonds all bedight 
 And every precious thing; 
 Not even a god might will 
 More beauty there to bring. 
 
THE GIFT ^2 
 
 IV 
 
 Then spoke Life's sister, Pain, 
 " Here thou as a king shalt reign, 
 Here shalt thou take thy j^leasure, 
 This is the priceless treasure, 
 The chamber of thy delight 
 Through endless day and night ; 
 Rejoice, this is the end : 
 Thou hast found the heart of a friend. 
 
34 
 
 'IN HER YOUNG EYES'' 
 
 "THE YEARS ARE ANGELS" 
 
 The years are angels that bring down from Heaven 
 Gifts of the gods. What has the angel given 
 Who last night vanished up the heavenly wall ? 
 He gave a friend — the gods' best gift of all. 
 
 "IN HER YOUNG EYES" 
 
 In her young eyes the children looked and found 
 Their happy comrade. Summer souls false-bound 
 In age's frosty winter, — without ruth, — 
 Lived once again in her their long-lost youth. 
 
^'YESTERDAY, WHEN IVE WERE FRIENDS'' 35 
 
 "YESTERDAY, WHEN WE WERE FRIENDS" 
 
 Yesterday, when we were friends, 
 We were scarcely friends at all ; 
 
 Now we have been friends so long, 
 And our love has grown so strong. 
 
 When to-morrow's eve shall fall 
 We shall say, as night descends. 
 Again shall say : Ah, yesterday 
 
 Scarcely were we friends at all — 
 
 Now we have been friends so long 
 Our love has grown so deep, so strong. 
 
36 ^ NIGHT SONG 
 
 A NIGHT SONG 
 
 (for the guitar) 
 
 The leaves are dark and large, Love, 
 'Tis blue at every marge. Love ; 
 
 The stars hang in the tree, Love, 
 I '11 pluck them all. for thee, Love; 
 
 The crescent moon is curled. Love, 
 Down at the edge of the world, Love ; 
 
 I '11 run and bring it now. Love, 
 To crown thy gentle brow, Love ; 
 
 For in my song 
 
 The summer long 
 
 The stars, and moon, and night, Love, 
 Are but for thy delight. Love ! 
 
LEO 37 
 
 LEO 
 
 1 
 
 Over the roofs of the houses 1 hear the barking of Leo — 
 
 Leo the shaggy, the lustrous, the giant, the gentle New- 
 foundland. 
 
 Dark are his eyes as the night, and black is his hair as the 
 midnight ; 
 
 Large and slow is his tread till he sees his master re- 
 turning. 
 
 Then how he leaps in the air, with motion ponderous, 
 frightening ! 
 
 Now as I pass to my work I hear o'er the roar of the 
 city — 
 
 Far over the roofs of the houses, I hear the barking of 
 Leo ; 
 
 For me he is moaning and crying, for me in measure 
 sonorous 
 
 He raises his marvelous voice, for me he is wailing and 
 calling. 
 
^8 LEO 
 
 None can assuage his grief though but for a day is the 
 
 parting, | 
 
 Though morn after morn 't is the same, though home ■ 
 
 every night comes his master, 
 Still will he grieve when we sever, and wild will be his 
 
 rejoicing 
 When at night his master returns and lays but a hand on 
 
 his forehead. 
 No lack will there be in the world of faith, of love, and 
 
 devotion, 
 No lack for me and for mine, while Leo alone is living — 
 While over the roofs of the houses I hear the barking of 
 
 Leo. 
 
Ill 
 
BROTHERS 
 
 41 
 
 BROTHERS 
 
 PASSION is a wayward child, 
 Art his brother firm and mild. 
 Lonely each 
 Doth fail to reach 
 Height of music, song or speech. 
 If hand in hand they sally forth, 
 East or west, or south or north, 
 Naught can stay them 
 Nor delay them. 
 
 Slaves not they of space or time 
 In their joumeyings sublime. 
 
42 LOVE, ART, AND TIME 
 
 LOVE, ART, AND TIME 
 
 ON A PICTURE ENTITLED '" THE PORTRAIT, BY WILL 
 H. LOW 
 
 Sweet Grecian girl who on the sunbright wall 
 Tracest the outline of thy lover's shade, 
 While, on the dial near, Time's hand is laid 
 With silent motion — fearest thou, then, all? 
 
 How that one day the light shall cease to fall 
 
 On him who is thy light; how lost, dismayed, — 
 By Time, and Time's pale comrade. Death 
 
 betrayed, — 
 Thou shalt breathe on beneath the all-shadowing 
 pall! 
 
 Love, Art, and Time — these are the triple powers 
 
 That rule the world, and shall for many a morrow : 
 Love that beseecheth Art to conquer Time ! 
 
 Bright is the picture, but, O fading flowers ! 
 
 O youth that passes, love that bringeth sorrow — 
 Bright is the picture ; sad the poet's rhyme. 
 
 1 
 
 LL I 
 
THE DANCERS 43 
 
 THE DANCERS 
 
 ON A PICTURE ENTITLED " SUMMER," BY T. W. DEWING 
 
 Behold these maidens in a row 
 Against the birches' freshening green ; 
 Their hnes Hke music sway and flow; 
 They move before the emerald screen 
 Like broidered figures dimly seen 
 On woven cloths, in moony glow — 
 Gracious, and graceful, and serene. 
 They hear the harp ; its lovely tones 
 Each maiden in each motion owns, 
 As if she were a living note 
 Which from that curved harp doth float. 
 
44 THE TIVENTY-THJRD OF APRIL 
 
 THE TWENTV-THIRD OF APRIL 
 
 A LITTLE English earth and breathed air 
 
 Made Shakespeare the divine ; so is his verse 
 
 The broidered soil of every blossom fair ; 
 
 So doth his song all sweet bird-songs rehearse. 
 
 But tell me, then, what wondrous stuff did fashion 
 That part of him which took those wilding flights 
 Among imagined worlds; whence the white pas- 
 sion 
 That burned three centuries through the days and 
 nights ! 
 
 Not heaven's four winds could make, nor the round 
 earth, 
 The soul wherefrom the soul of Hamlet flamed : 
 Nor anything of merely mortal birth 
 
 Could lighten as when Shakespeare's name is named. 
 How was his body bred we know full well. 
 But that high soul's engendering who may tell ! 
 
EMMA LAZARUS 
 
 45 
 
 EMMA LAZARUS 
 
 \Vhk\ on thy bed of pain thou h^yest low 
 Daily we saw thy body fade away, 
 Nor could the love wherewith we loved thee stay 
 For one dear hour the flesh borne down by woe ; 
 
 But as the mortal sank, with what white glow 
 Flamed thy eternal spirit, night and day — 
 Untouched, unwasted, though the crumbling clay 
 Lay wrecked and ruined ! Ah, is it not so, 
 
 Dear poet-comrade, who from sight hast gone — 
 
 Is it not so that spirit hath a life i 
 
 Death may not conquer ? But, O dauntless one ! 
 
 Still must we sorrow. Heavy is the strife 
 
 And thou not with us — thou of the old race 
 That with Jehovah parleyed, face to face. 
 
46 THE TWELFTH OF DECEMBER 
 
 THE TWELFTH OF DECEMBER 
 
 On this day Browning died ? 
 Say, rather : On the tide 
 That throbs against those glorious palace walls ; 
 That rises — pauses — falls 
 
 With melody, and myriad-tinted gleams; 
 
 On that enchanted tide, 
 Half real, and half poured from lovely dreams, 
 A Soul of Beauty, — a white, rhythmic flame, — 
 Passed singing forth into the Eternal Beauty whence 
 it came. 
 
IV 
 
SHERIDAN 4g 
 
 SHERIDAN 
 I 
 
 OUIETLY, like a child 
 That sinks in slumber mild, 
 No i)ain or troubled thought his well-earned peace 
 
 to mar, 
 Sank into endless rest our thunder-bolt of war. 
 
 II 
 
 Though his the power to smite 
 
 Quick as the lightning's light, — 
 His single arm an army, and his name a host, — 
 Not his the love of blood, the warrior's cruel boast. 
 
 Ill 
 But in the battle's flame 
 How glorious he came ! — 
 Even like a white-combed wave that breaks and tears 
 
 the shore. 
 While wreck lies strewn behind, and terror flies before. 
 4 
 
5° 
 
 SHERIDAN 
 
 IV 
 
 'T was he, — his voice, his might, — 
 
 Could stay the panic-flight. 
 Alone shame back the headlong, many-leagued retreat. 
 And turn to evening triumph morning's foul defeat. 
 
 V 
 
 He was our modem Mars; 
 
 Yet firm his faith that wars 
 Erelong would cease to vex the sad, ensanguined earth. 
 And peace forever reign, as at Christ's holy birth. 
 
 VI 
 
 Blest land, in whose dark hour 
 
 Arise to loftiest power 
 No dazzlers of the sword to play the tyrant's part. 
 But patriot-soldiers, true and pure and high of heart ! 
 
 VII 
 
 Of such our chief of all ; 
 
 And he who broke the wall 
 Of civil strife in twain, no more to build or mend ; 
 And he who hath this day made Death his faithful 
 friend. 
 
SHERIDAN 
 
 51 
 
 VIII 
 
 And now above his tomb 
 
 From out the eternal gloom 
 " Welcome ! " his chieftain's voice sounds o'er the can- 
 non's knell ; 
 And of the three one only stays to say " Farewell ! " 
 
52 
 
 SHERMAN 
 
 SHERMAN 
 
 I 
 
 Glory and honor and fame and everlasting laudation 
 For our captains who loved not war, but fought for the 
 
 life of the nation ; 
 Who knew that, in all the land, one slave meant strife, 
 
 not peace ; 
 Who fought for freedom, not glory; made war that 
 
 war misfht cease. 
 
 Glory and honor and fame; — the beating of muffled 
 
 drums ; 
 The wailing funeral dirge, as the flag-wrapped coffin 
 
 comes. 
 Fame and honor and glory, and joy for a noble soul ; 
 For a full and splendid life, and laureled rest at the 
 
 goal. 
 
SHERMAN ^3 
 
 III 
 
 Glory and honor and fame ; — the pomp that a soldier 
 
 prizes ; 
 The league-long waving line as the marching falls and 
 
 rises ; 
 Rumbling of caissons and guns, the clatter of horses' 
 
 feet, 
 And a million awe-struck faces far down the waiting 
 
 street. 
 
 IV 
 
 But better than martial woe, and the pageant of civic 
 sorrow ; 
 
 Better than praise of to-day, or the statue we build to- 
 morrow ; 
 
 Better than honor and glory, and history's iron pen. 
 
 Is the thought of duty done and the love of his fellow- 
 men. 
 
54 PRO PATRIA 
 
 PRO PATRIA 
 
 IN MEMORY OF A FAITHFUL CHAPLAIN* 
 I 
 
 Erewhile I sang the praise of them whose lustrous 
 names 
 
 Flashed in war's dreadful flames ; 
 Who rose in glory, and in splendor, and in might 
 
 To fame's sequestered height. 
 
 Honor to all, for each his honors meekly carried, 
 
 Nor e'er the conquered harried ; 
 All honor, for they sought alone to serve the state — 
 
 Not merely to be great. 
 
 * The chaplain referred to lost his life through taking upon 
 himself the visitation of the army smallpox hospital, near the 
 camp of his regiment, the 40th N. Y. Vols., at Brandy Station, 
 Virginia, April, 1864. 
 
PRO PATRIA 52 
 
 III 
 
 Yes, while the glorious past our grateful memory 
 craves, 
 
 And while yon bright flag waves, 
 Lincoln, Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, the peerless four, 
 
 Shall live forever more ; 
 
 IV 
 
 Shall shine the eternal stars of stern and loyal love, 
 
 All other stars above ; 
 The imperial nation they made one, at last, and free, 
 
 Their monument shall be. 
 
 Ah yes ! but ne'er may we forget the praise to sound 
 
 Of the brave souls that found 
 Death in the myriad ranks, 'mid blood, and groans, 
 and stenches — 
 
 Tombs in the abhorred trenches. 
 
^6 PRO P ATRIA 
 
 41 
 
 Comrades! To-day a tear-wet garland I would bring — 
 
 But one song let me sing, 
 For one sole hero of my heart and desolate home ; 
 
 Come with me, Comrades, come ! 
 
 i 
 
 Bring your glad flowers, your flags, for this one humble 
 grave ; 
 For, Soldiers, he was brave ! 
 Though fell not he before the cannon's thunderous 
 breath, 
 Yet noble was his death. 
 
 VIII 
 
 True soldier of his country and the sacred cross, — 
 
 He counted gain, not loss, 
 Perils and nameless horrors of the embattled field. 
 
 While he had help to yield. 
 
PRO PATRIA 57 
 
 IX 
 
 But not where 'mid wild cheers the awful battle 
 broke, — 
 
 A hell of fire and smoke, — 
 He to heroic death went forth with soul elate — 
 
 Harder his lonely fate. 
 
 Searching where most was needed, worst of all en- 
 dured, 
 
 Sufferers he found immured, — 
 Tented apart because of fatal, foul disease, — 
 
 Balm brought he unto these : 
 
 XI 
 
 Celestial balm, the spirit's holy mmistry, 
 
 He brought, and only he ; 
 \\'here men who blanched not at the battle's shell and 
 shot 
 
 Trembled, and entered not. 
 
58 PRO P ATRIA 
 
 XII 
 
 \ 
 
 Yet life to him was oh, most dear, — home, children, 
 wife, — 
 
 But, dearer still than life. 
 Duty — that passion of the soul which from the sod 
 
 Alone lifts man to God. 
 
 The pest-house entering fearless — stricken he fearless 
 fell. 
 Knowing that all was well : 
 The high, mysterious Power whereof mankind has 
 dreamed 
 To him not distant seemed. 
 
 XIV 
 
 So nobly died this unknown hero of the war; 
 
 And heroes, near and far. 
 Sleep now in graves like his unfamed in song or story — 
 
 But theirs is more than glory ! 
 
J. R. L.— ON HIS BIRTHDAY 
 
 FAILURE AND SUCCESS 
 
 He fails who climbs to power and place 
 Up the pathway of disgrace. 
 He fails not who makes truth his cause, 
 Nor bends to win the crowd's applause. 
 He fails not, he who stakes his all 
 Upon the right, and dares to fall ; — 
 What though the living bless or blame, 
 For him the long success of fame. 
 
 J. R. L. 
 
 ON HIS BIRTHDAY 
 
 Navies nor armies can exalt the state, — 
 Millions of men, nor coined wealth untold : 
 Down to the pit may sink a land of gold ; 
 
 But one great name can make a country great. 
 
 59 
 
6o NAPOLEON 
 
 NAPOLEON 
 
 A SOUL inhuman ? No — but human all, 
 If human is each passion man has known : 
 Scorn, hate, and love ; the lust of empire, grown 
 To such a height as did the world appal ; — 
 
 If the same human soul may soar and crawl 
 As soared his and as crawled; if to be shown 
 The utmost heaven and hell ; if to atone 
 For fame consummate by colossal fall ; — 
 
 If human 't is to see friend, partisan 
 
 Turn, dastardly, the imperial hand to tear 
 That fed them; if through gnawing years to plan 
 
 Vengeance, and space to breathe the unfettered air, — 
 No alien from his kind but very man 
 Slow perished on that island of despair. 
 
THE IVHirE TSAirS PEOPLE 6r 
 
 THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 
 
 PART I 
 
 The White Tsar's people cry : 
 " Thou God of the heat and the cold, 
 Of storm and of lightning, 
 Of darkness, and dawn's red brightening; 
 Hold, Lord God, hold, 
 Hold Thy hand lest we curse Thee and die." 
 
 The White Tsar's people pray : 
 " Thou God of the South and the North, 
 We are crushed, we are bleeding ; 
 'T is Christ, 't is Thy Son interceding ; 
 Forth, Lord, come forth ! 
 Bid the slayer no longer slay." 
 
62 THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 
 
 The White Tsar's people call 
 Aloud to the skies of lead : 
 " We are slaves, not freemen ; 
 Ourselves, our children, our women, — 
 Dead, we are dead. 
 Though we breathe, we are dead men all. 
 
 " Blame not if we misprize thee 
 Who can, but will not draw near. 
 'Tis Thou who hast made us — 
 Not Thou, dread God, to upbraid us. 
 Hear, Lord God, hear ! 
 Lest we whom Thou madest despise Thee." 
 
 PART II 
 
 Then answered the most high God, 
 Lord of the heat and the cold, 
 Of storm and of lightning. 
 Of darkness, and dawn's red brightening : 
 " Bold, yea, too bold. 
 Whom I wrought from the air and the clod ! 
 
THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 63 
 
 " Hast thou forgotten from me 
 Are those ears so quick to hear 
 The passion and anguish 
 Of your sisters, your children who languish 
 Near ? Ah, not near — 
 Far off by the uttermost sea ! 
 
 " Who gave ye your hearts to bleed 
 And brains to weave and to plan? 
 Why call ye on heaven — 
 'T is the earth that to you is given 
 Plead, ye may plead. 
 But for man I work through man. 
 
 " Who gave ye a voice to utter 
 Your tale to the wind and the sea ? 
 One word well spoken 
 And the iron gates are broken. 
 From me, yea, from me 
 The word that ye will not mutter. 
 
64 THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 
 
 " I love not murder but ruth. 
 Begone from my sight ye who take 
 The knife of the coward — 
 E\-en ye who by heaven were dowered ! 
 Wake ye, O wake, 
 And strike with the sword of l~ruth ! 
 
 " Fear ye lest I misprize ye — 
 I who fashioned not brutes, but men. 
 After the lightning 
 
 And darkness — the dawn's red brightening! 
 Men ! Be ye men ! 
 Lest I who made ye despise ye ! " 
 
V 
 
HIDE NOT THY HEART 
 
 67 
 
 HIDE NOT THY HEART 
 
 THIS is my creed, 
 This be my deed : 
 " Hide not thy heart ! " 
 Soon we depart ; 
 Mortals are all, 
 A breath, then the pall ; 
 A flash on the dark — 
 All 's done — stiff and stark. 
 No time for a lie ; 
 The truth, and then die. 
 Hide not thy heart! 
 
68 HIDE NOT THY HEART 
 
 Forth with thy thought! 
 Soon 't will be naught, 
 And thou in thy tomb. 
 Now is air, now is room. 
 Down with false shame; 
 Reck not of fame ; 
 Dread not man's spite; 
 Quench not thy light. 
 This be thy creed, 
 This be thy deed: 
 " Hide not thy heart ! " 
 
 III 
 
 If God is, he made 
 Sunshine and shade, 
 Heaven and hell; 
 This we know well. 
 Dost thou believe ? 
 Do not deceive; 
 
HIDE NOT THY HEART 
 
 Scorn not thy faith : 
 If 't is a wraith, 
 Soon it will fly. 
 Thou, who must die, 
 Hide not thy heart I 
 
 IV 
 
 This is my creed, 
 This be my deed ! 
 Faith, or a doubt — 
 I shall speak out 
 And hide not my heart. 
 
 69 
 
70 
 
 THE POET FROM HIS OWN SORROW 
 
 "THE POET FROM HIS OWxN SORROW" 
 
 The poet from his own sorrow 
 
 Poured forth a love-sad song. 
 A stranger, on the morrow, 
 
 Drew near, with a look of wrong, 
 And said — "Beneath its pall 
 
 1 have hidden my heart in vain — 
 To the world thou hast sung it all ! 
 
 Who told thee my secret pain ? " 
 
•WHITE, PILLARED NECK" 
 
 71 
 
 "WHITE, PILLARED NECK" 
 
 White, pillared neck; a brow to make men quake; 
 
 A woman's perfect form; — 
 Like some cool marble, should that wake, 
 
 Breathe, and be warm. 
 
 A shape, a mind, a heart — 
 
 Of womanhood the whole : 
 Her breath, her smile, her touch, her art, 
 
 All — save her soul. 
 
72 "GREAT NATURE IS AN ARMY GAV 
 
 "GREAT NATURE IS AN ARMY GAY" 
 
 Great nature is an army gay, 
 Resistless marching on its way ; 
 I hear the bugles clear and sweet, 
 I hear the tread of million feet. 
 
 Across the plain I see it pour ; 
 It tramples down the waving grass ; 
 Within the echoing mountain pass 
 I hear a thousand cannon roar. 
 
 It swarms within my garden gate; 
 My deepest well it drinketh dry. 
 It doth not rest ; it doth not wait ; 
 By night and day it sweepeth by ; 
 Ceaseless it marches by my door ; 
 It heeds me not, though I implore. 
 I know not whence it comes, nor where 
 It goes. For me it doth not care — 
 
GREAT NATURE IS AX ARMY GAY 
 
 73 
 
 Whether I starve, or eat, or sleep, 
 
 Or hve, or die, or sing, or weep. 
 
 And now the banners all are bright, 
 
 Now torn and blackened by the fight. 
 
 Sometimes its laughter shakes the sky, 
 
 Sometimes the groans of those who die. 
 
 Still through the night and through the livelong day 
 
 The infinite army marches on its remorseless wav. 
 
74 
 
 LIFE IS THE COST'' 
 
 LIFE IS THE COST" 
 
 Life is the cost. 
 Behold yon tower, 
 That heavenward hfts 
 To the cloudy drifts — 
 Like a flame, like a flower! 
 What lightness, what grace, 
 What a dream of power ! 
 One last endeavor 
 One stone to place — 
 And it stands forever. 
 
 A shp, a fall — 
 
 A cry, a call ; 
 
 Turn away — all 's done. 
 
 Stands the tower in the sun 
 
''LIFE IS THE COST'' 
 
 Forever and a day. 
 On the pavement below 
 'I"he crimson stain 
 Will be worn away 
 In the ebb and flow; — 
 The tower will remain. 
 Life is the cost. 
 
 75 
 
76 THE PRISONER'S THOUGHT 
 
 THE PRISONER'S THOUGHT 
 
 Is 't I for whom the law's brute penalty 
 
 Was made, — to whom the law once seemed a power 
 
 Far off and not to be concerned withal ? 
 
 Am I indeed this rank and noisome thing 
 
 Fit for such handling — to be pushed aside 
 
 Into a human foul receptacle, 
 
 A fetid compost of dull festering crime 
 
 Even not fit for nutriment of the earth, 
 
 But only here to rot in memories 
 
 Of my own shame, and shame of other men ? 
 
 Here let me rot then — there 's a taste one has 
 For just the best of all things, even of sin. 
 He 's a poor devil who in deepest hell 
 Knows no keen relish for the worst that is, — 
 The very acme of intensest pain, — 
 Nor smacks charred lips at thoughts of some dear 
 crime, 
 
77 
 
 THE PRISONER'S 71I0UGI1T 
 
 The sweetest, deadliest, damnablest of all. 
 Sometimes I hug that hellish happiness ; 
 And then a loathing falls upon my soul 
 I'or what I was, ami am, and still must be. 
 
 And this same I. — there comes to me a time, 
 And often comes, when all this slips away : 
 Stays not one stain, nor scar, nor fatal hurt. 
 Perhaps it is a sort of waking dream; 
 But if I dream. 1 'm breathing audibly, 
 I feci my pulse beat, hear the talk and tread 
 Down these long corridors; see the barred blue 
 Of the cell's window, hear a singing bird — 
 Ves, O my God, I hear a singing bird. 
 Such as I heard in childhood. Now, you think, 
 I dream 1 am a child once more. Not so ; 
 I am just what I am ; a man in prison — 
 (Damn them I I 'm innocent of what they swore 
 And proved — with cant, and well-paid perjury; 
 Though other crimes, they know not of, I did) — 
 But suddenly my soul is pure as yours ; 
 
J 8 THE PRISONER'S THOUGHT 
 
 My thoughts as clean ; my spirit is as free 
 
 As any man's, or any purest woman's. 
 
 I think as justly, as for instance, sir, 
 
 You think ; as circumspectly, wisely, freely. 
 
 As does my genial keeper, or the smith 
 
 Who enters once a day to try the bars 
 
 That shut my body out from freedom ! Not 
 
 My soul. Why, this my soul has thoughts that strike 
 
 Into the very heights and depths of Heaven. 
 
 You '11 think it passing strange, good friend, no doubt. 
 
 'T is strange ; but here 's a further mystery : 
 
 Think you that in some other living state 
 
 After what we call death, — or in this life, — 
 
 The thinking part of us we name the soul 
 
 Can ever get away from its old self; 
 
 Can wash the earth all off from it, that so 
 
 It really will be, what I sometimes seem — 
 
 As sinless as a little child at birth, 
 
 With all a woman's love for all things pure. 
 
 And all a grown man's strength to do the right ? 
 
'SOfV THOU SORROW 
 
 79 
 
 THE CONDEMNED 
 
 Thou art not fit to die? — Why not? 
 The fairest body ripes to rot ; 
 Thy soul ? Oh, why not let it go 
 Free from the flesh that drags it low ! 
 To die ! Poor wretch, do not deceive 
 Thyself — who art not fit to live. 
 
 "SOW THOU SORROW" 
 
 Sow thou sorrow and thou shalt reap it; 
 Sow thou joy and thou shalt keep it. 
 
TEMPT A TION 
 
 I 
 
 TEMPTATION 
 
 Not alone in pain and gloom, 
 Does the abhorred tempter come; 
 Not in light alone and pleasure 
 Proffers he the poisoned measure. 
 
 When the soul doth rise 
 Nearest to its native skies, 
 There the exalted spirit finds 
 Borne upon the heayenly winds 
 Satan, in an angel's guise, 
 With voice divine and innocent eyes. 
 
A MIDSUMMER MEDITATION 
 
 A MIDSUMMER MEDITATION 
 
 P\\CE once the thought : This piled up sky of cloud, 
 Elue vastness, and white vastness steeped in light, — 
 Struck through with hght, that centers in the sun, — 
 This blue of waves below that meets blue sky : 
 But a white, trembling shore between, that sweeps 
 The circle of the bay; this green of woods, 
 And keener green of new-mown, grassy fields; 
 This ceaseless, leaf-like rustle of the waves; 
 These shining, billowy tree-tops ; songs of birds ; 
 Strong scent of seaweed, mixed with smell of pines ; 
 Face once this thought : Thy spirit that looks forth, 
 That breathes the light, and life, and joy of all. 
 Shall cease, but not the things that pleasure thee ; 
 They shall endure for eyes like thine, but not 
 For thine own eyes ; for human hearts like thine, 
 But not for thine own heart, all dust and dead. 
 6 
 
82 A MIDSUMMER MEDITATION 
 
 ^ 
 
 Face it, O Spirit, tlien look up once more, 
 
 Brave conqueror of dull mortality ! 
 
 Look up and be a part of all thou see'st; — 
 
 Ocean and earth and miracle of sky, 
 
 All that thou see'st, is thee, and without thee 
 
 Were naught. Thou, too, a god, dost recreate 
 
 The ^whole ; breathing thy soul on all, till all 
 
 Is one wide world made perfect at thy touch. 
 
 And know that thou, who darest a world create, 
 
 Art one with the Almighty, son to sire — 
 
 Of his eternity a quenchless spark. 
 
AS nor// T//E B/RD'' 83 
 
 "AS DOTH THE BIRD" 
 
 As doth the bird, on outstretched pinions, dare 
 
 The dread abysm's viewless air — 
 
 Take thou, my soul, thy fearless flight 
 
 Into the void and dark of death's eternal night. 
 
 In the Catskills. 
 
84 VISIONS 
 
 VISIONS 
 
 Cast into the pit 
 Of lonely sorrow, 
 The suffering soul, 
 Looking aloft, 
 Sees with amaze 
 In the day-time sky 
 The shine of stars. 
 
 Came to me once 
 In the seething town 
 A form of beauty, 
 Innocent brow. 
 And soul of youth ; 
 
VISIOiVS 85 
 
 Deep, sweet eyes, 
 An angel's gaze, 
 And rose-leaf lips 
 That murmured low : 
 I am thy sin." 
 
 Ill 
 
 With full-toned beat 
 Of the happy heart, 
 In a day of peace. 
 In an hour of joy, 
 Once in my life 
 And only once, 
 Of a sudden, I. saw. 
 The end of all ! 
 Death! 
 
86 WITH A CROSS OF IMMORTELLES 
 
 WITH A CROSS OF IMMORTELLES 
 
 When Christ cried, " It is done ! " 
 The face of a small red flower, 
 
 Looking up to the suffering One, 
 
 Turned pale with love and pain, 
 And never shone red again. 
 In memory of that hour 
 
 Which holds the secret of bliss. 
 And the darker secret of sorrow — 
 That shall come to each, to-morrow — 
 
 Sweet friend, I send you this. 
 
THE PASSING OF CHRIST 
 
 87 
 
 THE PASSING OF CHRIST 
 
 O Man of light and lore ! 
 Do you mean that in our day 
 The Christ has passed away; 
 That nothing now is divine 
 In the fierce rays that shine 
 Through every cranny and thought ; 
 That Christ as he once was taught 
 Shall be the Christ no more ? 
 That the Hope and Saviour of men 
 Shall be seen no more again ; 
 That, miracles being done, 
 Gone is the Holy One ? 
 And thus, you hold, the Christ 
 For the past alone sufficed; 
 
THE PASSING OF CHRIST 
 
 From the throne of the hearts of the world 
 
 The Son of God shall be hurled, 
 
 And henceforth must, be sought 
 
 New prophets and kings of thought; 
 
 That the tenderest, truest word 
 
 The heart of sorrow had heard 
 
 Shall sound no more on earth ; 
 
 That he who has made of buth 
 
 A dread and holy rite ; 
 
 Who has brought to the eyes of death 
 
 A vision of heavenly light, 
 
 Shall fade with our faihng faith ; — 
 
 He who saw in children's eyes 
 
 Eternal paradise; 
 
 Who looked through shame and sin 
 
 At the sanctity within; 
 
 Whose memory, since he died, 
 
 The earth has sanctified — 
 
 Has been the stay and the hold 
 
 Of millions of lives untold, 
 
 And the world on its upward path 
 
 Has led from crime and wrath ; — 
 
THE PASSING OF CHRIST 89 
 
 You say that this Christ has passed 
 And we can not hold him fast. 
 
 Ah no ! If the Christ you mean 
 
 Shall pass from this time, this scene, 
 
 These hearts, these lives of ours, 
 
 'T is but as the summer flowers 
 
 Pass, but return again, 
 
 To gladden the world of men. 
 
 For he, — the only, the true, — 
 
 In each age, in each waiting heart, 
 
 Leaps into life anew ; 
 
 Though he pass, he shall not depart. 
 
 Behold him now where he comes ! 
 
 Not the Christ of our subtile creeds, 
 
 But the light of our hearts, of our homes. 
 
 Of our hopes, our prayers, our needs; 
 
 The brother of want and blame, 
 
 The lover of women and men, 
 
go 
 
 THE PASSING OF CHRIST 
 
 With a love that puts to shame 
 All passions of mortal ken : 
 Yet of all of woman born 
 His is the scorn of scorn; 
 Before whose face doth fly 
 Lies, and the love of a lie ; 
 Who from the temple of God, 
 And the sacred place of la^\■s, 
 Drives forth, with uplifted rod, 
 The herds of ravening maws. 
 
 'T is he, as none other can, 
 
 Makes free the spirit of man, 
 
 And speaks, in darkest night. 
 
 One word of awful light 
 
 That strikes through the dreadful pain 
 
 Of life, a reason sane — 
 
 That word divine which brought 
 
 The universe from naught. 
 
 Ah no, thou life of the heart, 
 Never shalt thou depart ! 
 
THE PASSING OF CHRIST 
 
 Not till the leaven of God 
 
 Shall lighten each human clod ; 
 
 Not till the world shall climb 
 
 To thy height serene, sublime, 
 
 Shall the Christ who enters our door 
 
 Pass to return no more. 
 
 91 
 
92 
 
 CREDO 
 
 CREDO 
 
 How easily my neighbor chants his creed, 
 
 KneeUng beside me in the House of God. 
 
 His " I beheve " he chants, and •' I beheve," 
 
 With cheerful iteration and consent — 
 
 Watching meantime the white, slow sunbeam move 
 
 Across the aisle, or listening to the bird 
 
 Whose free, wild song sounds through the open door. 
 
 Thou God supreme, — I too, I too, believe! 
 But oh ! forgive if this one human word, 
 Binding the deep and breathless thought of thee 
 And my own conscience with an iron band. 
 Stick in my throat. I cannot say it, thus — 
 This "I believe" that doth thyself obscure; 
 This rod to smite ; this barrier ; this blot 
 On thy most unimaginable face 
 And soul of majesty. 
 
CREDO 
 
 'T is not man's faith 
 In thee that he proclaims in formal phrase, 
 But faith in man ; faith not in thine own Christ, 
 But in another man's dim thought of him. 
 
 Christ of Judea, look thou in my heart. 
 Do I not love thee, look to thee, in thee 
 Alone have faith of all the sons of men! — 
 Faith deepening with the weight and woe of years 
 
 Pure soul and tenderest of all that came 
 Into this world of sorrow, hear my prayer: 
 
 Lead me, yea lead me deeper into life — 
 This suffering, human life wherein thou liv'st 
 And breathest still, and hold'st thy way divine. 
 'T is here, O pitying Christ, where thee I seek. 
 Here where the strife is fiercest ; where the sun 
 Beats down upon the highway thronged with men, 
 And in the raging mart. Oh ! deeper lead 
 My soul into the living world of souls 
 Where thou dost move. 
 
 93 
 
g4 CREDO f 
 
 \ 
 But lead me, Man Divine, 
 
 Where'er thou will'st, onl)' that I may find 
 
 At the long journey's end thy image there, 
 
 And grow more hke to it. For art not thou 
 
 The human shadow of the infinite Love I 
 
 That made and fills the endless universe ! 
 
 The very Word of him, the unseen, unknown 
 
 Eternal Good that rules the summer flower 
 
 And all the worlds that people starry space ! 
 
NON SINE DO LORE 
 
 NON SINE DOLORE 
 
 What, then, is Life, — what Death? 
 
 Thus the Answerer saith ; 
 
 O faithless mortal, bend thy head and listen : 
 
 Down o'er the vibrant strings. 
 
 That thrill, and moan, and mourn, and glisten, 
 
 The Master draws his bow. 
 
 A voiceless pause ; then upward, see, it springs, 
 
 Free as a bird with unimprisoned wings ! 
 
 In twain the chord was cloven. 
 
 While, shaken with woe. 
 
 With breaks of instant joy all interwoven, 
 
 Piercing the heart with lyric knife, 
 
 On, on the ceaseless music sings. 
 
 Restless, intense, serene : 
 
 Life is the downward stroke; the upward. Life; 
 
 Death but the pause between. 
 
 95 
 
96 
 
 NON SINE DOLOR E 
 
 Then spake the Questioner : If 't were only this, 
 Ah, who could face the abyss 
 That plunges down athwart each human breath ? 
 If the new birth of Death 
 Meant only more of Life as mortals know it, 
 What priestly balm, what song of highest poet. 
 Could heal one sentient soul's immitigable pain ? 
 All, all were vain ! 
 
 If, having soared pure spirit at the last. 
 Free from the impertinence and warp of flesh, 
 We find half joy, half pain, on every blast, 
 Are caught again in closer-woven mesh, — 
 Ah ! who would care to die 
 
 From out these fields and hills, and this famiUar sky; 
 These firm, sure hands that compass us, this dear 
 humanity ? 
 
 Ill 
 
 Again the Answerer saith: 
 O ye of little faith, 
 
A'a.V SJNE DOLOKK 
 
 97 
 
 Shall, then, the spirit prove craven. 
 And Death's divine deliverance but give 
 A summer rest and haven? 
 
 By all most noble in us, by the light that streams 
 Into our waking dreams, 
 Ah, we who know what Life is, let us live! 
 Clearer and freeer, who shall doubt ? 
 Something of dust and darkness cast forever out ; 
 But Life, still Life, that leads to higher Life, — 
 Kven though the highest be not free from the im- 
 mortal strife. 
 
 The highest 1 Soul of man, oh, be thou bold, 
 And to the brink of thought draw near, behold! 
 Where, on the earth's green sod, 
 Where, where in all the universe of God, 
 Hath strife forever ceased ? 
 
 When hath not some great orb flashed into space 
 The terror of its doom ? When hath no human face 
 Turned earthward in despair, 
 
 For that some horrid sin had stamped its image 
 there ? 
 
 7 
 
98 
 
 NON SINE DO LORE 
 
 If at our passing Life be Life increased, 
 And we ourselves flame pure unfettered soul, 
 Like the eternal power that made the whole 
 And lives in all he made 
 
 From shore of matter to the unknown spirit shore; 
 If, sire to son, and tree to limb, 
 Cycle by countless cycle more and more 
 We grow to be like him; 
 If he lives on, serene and unafraid 
 Through all his light, his love, his living thought, 
 One with the sufiferer, be it soul or star ; 
 If he escape not pain, — what beings that are 
 Can e'er escape while Life leads on and up the 
 
 unseen way and far ? 
 If he escape not, by whom all was wrought. 
 Then shall not we, — 
 
 Whate'er of godhke solace still may be, — 
 For in all worlds there is no Life without a pang, 
 
 and can be naught. 
 
 No Life without a pang ! It were not Life, 
 If ended were the strife — 
 
NON SINE DO LORE gg 
 
 Man were not man, nor God were truly God ! 
 
 See from the sod 
 The lark thrill skyward in an arrow of song : 
 Even so from pain and wrong 
 Upsprings the exultant si)irit, wild and free. 
 He knows not all the joy of liberty 
 Who never yet was crushed 'neath heavy woe. 
 He doth not know, 
 Nor can, the bliss of being brave 
 ^^'ho never hath faced death, nor with unquailing eye 
 
 hath measured his own grave. 
 Courage, and pity, and divinest scorn — 
 Self-scorn, self-pity, and high courage of the 
 
 soul; 
 The passion for the goal ; 
 
 The strength to never yield though all be lost — 
 All these are born 
 
 Gf endless strife. This is the eternal cost 
 Of every lovely thought that through the portal 
 Of human minds doth pass with following light. 
 Blanch not, O trembling mortal ! 
 But with extreme and terrible delight 
 
lOO -yON SINE DO LORE 
 
 Know thou the truth, 
 
 Nor let thy heart be heavy with false ruth. 
 
 No passuig burden is our earthly sorrow 
 That shall depart in some mysterious morrow. 
 'Tis His one universe where'er we are — 
 One changeless law from sun to viewless star. 
 Were sorrow evil here, evil it were forever. 
 Beyond the scope and help of our most keen en- 
 deavor. 
 God doth not dote, 
 His everlasting purpose shall not fail : 
 Here where our ears are weary with the wail 
 And weeping of the sufferers ; there where the Pleiads 
 
 float, — 
 Here, there, forever, pain most dread and dire 
 Doth bring the intensest bliss, the dearest and most 
 
 sure. 
 'T is not from Life aside, it doth endure 
 Deep in the secret heart of all existence. 
 It is the inward fire, 
 The heavenly urge, and the divine insistence. 
 
XON S/A'E DO 1.0 RE 
 
 Uplift thine eyes, O Questioner, from the sod! 
 It were no longer Life, 
 If ended were the strife; 
 Man were not man, God were not truly God. 
 
VI 
 
 ODE 
 
 Read before the Society of the Phi Beta Kappa, Harvard 
 University, June 26, 1890 
 
ODE 
 
 ODE 
 
 IX the white midday's full imperious show 
 What glorious colors hide from human sight ! 
 But in the breathing pause 'twixt day and night 
 Forth stream those prisoned splendors, glow on glow ; 
 Like billows on they pour 
 And beat against the shore 
 Of cloud-wrought cliffs high as the utmost dome, 
 To die in purple waves that break on dawns to come. 
 
 Divine, divine! Oh, breathe no earthlier word I 
 
 Behold the western heavens how swift they flame 
 With hues that bring to mortal language shame ; 
 
 Swelling and pulsing like deep music heard 
 
io6 ODE 
 
 On sacred summer eves 
 When the loud organ grieves 
 Or thrills with lyric life the incensed air, 
 While 'mid the pillared gloom the people bow in 
 prayer. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Now is it some huge bird with monstrous vans 
 That through the sunset plies its shadowy way, 
 Catching on outstretched pinions the last play 
 Of failing tints celestial ! See ! it spans 
 Darkly the fading west. 
 And now its beamy crest 
 Follows from sight the glittering, golden sun ; 
 And now one mighty wing-beat more, and all is done. 
 
 IV 
 
 But in those skyey spaces what dread change ! 
 
 Thus have we seen the mortal turn immortal; 
 
 So doth the day's soul die, as through death's portal 
 The soul of man takes up its heavenward range. 
 
ODE 
 
 107 
 
 A million orbs endue 
 
 I'he unfathomable blue — 
 Till, the long miracle of night withdrawn, 
 The worhi beholds once more the miracle of dawn. 
 
 Dawn, eve, and night, the iridescent seas. 
 
 Bright moon, enlightening sun, and quivering stars, 
 The midnight rose whose petals are the bars 
 Of Boreal lights, the pomp of autumn trees, 
 The pearl of curved shells, 
 The prismy bow that swells 
 'Gainst stormy skies, — these witness, these are sign 
 Of thee, O Spirit of Beauty, eternal and divine ! 
 
 And fairer still than all, — chief sign of all, — 
 The naked loveliness in Eden's bower, 
 Whose flesh blushed back the tint of fruit and flower; 
 
 Whose eye reflamed the starlight ; who could call 
 
I08 ODE 
 
 Father and friend the God 
 
 That plucked them from the sod; 
 The Almighty's image, and Creation's height ; 
 Whose deep souls mirrored clear the circling day and 
 night. 
 
 VII 
 
 Spirit of Beauty ! 'neath thy joyful spell 
 
 Man hath been ever; therefore doth each breeze 
 Bring to his tranced ears glad melodies, — 
 Voices of birds, the brook's low, silvery bell, — 
 Wild music manifold. 
 Which he hath power to hold 
 His own enchanted harmonies among, 
 That echo round the world the songs that nature sung. 
 
 VIII 
 
 And thus all Beautiful in Holiness 
 
 Doth Israel stand before the Eternal One ; 
 Striking his harp with rapt, angehc tone. 
 
 Till tribes and nations the Unseen God confess; 
 
ODE 109 
 
 Knowing that only where 
 
 His face makes white the air 
 Could such seraphic song have mortal birth, — 
 One saving fliitli sublime to keep alive on eartli. 
 
 IX 
 
 And therefore with most passionate desire 
 And longing, man yearned ever to express 
 Thy majesty, and Ught, and lovehness, 
 O Spirit of Beauty, unconsuming fire ! 
 Therefore by ancient Nile 
 Rose the vast columned aisle, 
 And on the Athenian Hill the wonder white 
 Whose shattered ruins are the world's supreme delight. 
 
 So is it that to thy imperial shore. 
 Bright Italy ! the generations fly. 
 Even but once to breathe, or ere they die. 
 
 Where did a godlike race its soul outpour; 
 
no 
 
 ODE 
 
 Its birth divine revealing 
 
 On glorious wall and ceiling, — 
 While dome and rhythmic statue, Beauty-wrought, 
 Declare all human art is but what Heaven hath taught. 
 
 XI 
 
 Fair Italy ! whose dread and peerless height 
 The song is of the awful Ghibelhne : 
 Poet! who 'mid the threefold dream divine 
 Didst follow Art and Love to the Central Light! 
 Tell us, O Dante! tell 
 What thou dost know so well, 
 That horror and death are but the shade and foil 
 Of Beauty, deathless, godlike, and without assoil. 
 
 XII 
 
 Spirit divine ! man falls upon the sod 
 In awe of thee, in worship and amaze: 
 Thou older than the mountains, or the blaze 
 
 Of sunsets, or the sun ; thou old as God : 
 
ODE 
 
 As God who did create 
 Long ere man reached his state 
 All shapes of natural Beauty that men see, 
 And his wide universe did dedicate to thee. 
 
 XIII 
 
 — Ye who bear on the torch of living art 
 
 In this new world, — saved for some wondrous fate, 
 Deem not that ye have come, alas, too late, 
 But haste right forward with unfailing heart ! 
 Ye shall not rest forlorn, — 
 Behold, even now, the morn 
 Rises in splendor from the orient sea. 
 And the new world shall greet a new divinity. 
 
 XIV 
 
 Shall greet, ah, who can say! a nobler face 
 Than from the foam of Cytherean seas : 
 Loveliness loveHer; mightier harmonies 
 
 Of song and color ; an intenser grace : 
 
ODE 
 
 Beauty that shall endure 
 
 Like Chans, heavenly-pure; 
 A Spirit solemn as the starry night, 
 And full as the triumphant dawn of golden light. 
 
AFTER-SONG 
 
TO ROSAMOND 115 
 
 TO ROSAMOND 
 
 ROSE of the world, 
 Bloom of the year, 
 Birth of the dawn ! 
 By morn's one star 
 Lighted to hfe ! — 
 Thou and my songs 
 Come to the day 
 Hand clasped in hand: 
 
 Flung on this page 
 May the glow of thy name 
 Back through each song 
 Shine with the light 
 Drawn from the skies, — 
 Thou birth of the dawn, 
 Flower of the mom. 
 Rose of the world! 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 018 597 383 9 (f 
 
 lVNDI