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 Rapids and Still 
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RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
RAPIDS and STILL 
 WATER 
 
 RUTGERS REMSEN COLES 
 
 11 
 
 1919 
 THE STRATFORD CO., Publishers 
 
 BOSTON 
 

 Copyright 1919 
 
 The STRATFORD CO., Publishers 
 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
 OCT 2S 19/9 
 
 The Alpine Press, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 
 
 ©CI.A561082 
 
<J 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 To Williams College; 
 
 To Her Traditions, and to Her Loyal Sons, 
 
 This Little Volume, As a Modest 
 
 Tribute, Is Dedicated. 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 IN these days, when so many writers of 
 poetic tendency are striving to achieve some- 
 thing advanced in form, style, and expression, 
 it is refreshing to peruse the work of one, who, 
 inspired by the same fundamental desire, is 
 moved to accept the principles that have for so 
 many years been recognized, by the great 
 majority of those who enjoy poetry, as un- 
 mistakably poetic. To follow in the lines long 
 followed by the great minds who have contri- 
 buted to the satisfaction of the lovers of the 
 beautiful in thought and expression is not only 
 a modest recognition of established authority, 
 but is, in itself, a good start towards the ac- 
 complishment of something more that shall add 
 to the sum total of what has already been 
 stored up for the world's enjoyment. 
 
 In the verses that appear in the pages fol- 
 lowing, there is, first of all, evidence of the 
 fundamental requirement of poetry — the 
 power on the part of the writer to see the 
 beautiful in nature and in man. It is the 
 beautiful that gives pleasure; see it the poet 
 must; to share it with others surely should be 
 one definite purpose of a poet. The author of 
 
 vii 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 these verses is assuredly an optimist; his na- 
 ture as such places him in a position to evoke 
 sympathy on the part of the reader, and so 
 puts the latter in an attitude calculated to 
 make more easy the entrance into his mind of 
 the poet's conception. 
 
 But the poetic conception is only the begin- 
 ning of real poetry. Unless that conception is 
 developed in a truely poetic manner, the 
 greater part of the desired effect is lost. It is 
 in the line of development that the verses of 
 this book make a strong appeal to the reader. 
 In the construction there is a manifest 
 acknowledgment of the value of the tried and 
 true principles that underlie all the poetry that 
 has stood the test, ever since Chaucer's mel- 
 odies gave pleasure to the gallants of Edward's 
 court. They contain no strained attempts to 
 catch the fancy by bizarre expressions, no en- 
 deavors to surprise the reader into admiration 
 of audacity. The writer is content to set forth 
 his ideas upon the established lines that consti- 
 tute the real working rules of all who have 
 produced verses that have stood the test of 
 time. 
 
 One striking feature of all Coles's poems is 
 the simplicity of conception. He seems to catch 
 viii 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 the vital point of what he sees or thinks, and is 
 not tempted to deviate when he develops his 
 idea. Of diffusion, that bane of would-be poets, 
 there is none. He dwells upon the very heart 
 of his theme, and seems naturally proof against 
 all temptation to stray. This evident quality 
 in the author's mind leads him to select for 
 some of his most appealing verses the sonnet 
 form, the form that convention — not conven- 
 tionalism — has bound up with unity of con- 
 ception and expression. 
 
 Horace E. Henderson, A.B, 
 
 Head Master of English 
 Pawling School 
 
 Pawling School, 
 June 10, 1919. 
 
 IX 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 The Sea Tale of Paisalis .... 1 
 
 To a Thrush 15 
 
 Autumn 16 
 
 To a Wild Fowl 17 
 
 The Legend of the Trillium . . .18 
 To the Spirit of the Allied Women . . 26 
 
 At the Crossways 27 
 
 Prothanatos 28 
 
 Forget Not This 29 
 
 War's Apocalypse 30 
 
 The Sin of War .31 
 
 Semper Idem! .32 
 
 To My Wife on the Death of Her Mother . 33 
 
 To Mother 34 
 
 A Letter from the Hebrides . . .35 
 
 Love Speechless 36 
 
 To a Child of the Sunrise .... 37 
 
 To Somebody's Wife 38 
 
 To F. S. B. of New York .... 39 
 
 Sunset Road 40 
 
 To Little Maud . . . . . . 41 
 
 Laurel Leaves 42 
 
 The Nobler Grace 43 
 
 Metathmalion 44 
 
 How Does Love Come? . . . .45 
 Let Thine Eyes Look Right . . .46 
 
 xi 
 
The Sea Tale of Paisalis 
 
 The translation of a fragment in hexameter 
 found in Malperto 
 
 ONCE, in a dusky book-shop, hid in an 
 ancient city, 
 Lost mid the crumbling files of volumes old and 
 
 disordered, 
 I found you hidden away, and dragged you 
 
 forth to the sunlight; 
 Made you my eager prize, and all for the song 
 
 of a lira. 
 Tell me — ah, you are mute. — But had you a 
 
 voice for my question. 
 What might those yellow leaves relate, what 
 
 annals recover, 
 That lie with their age *s dust forever lost and 
 
 forgotten. 
 Only with scattered lips that speak from your 
 
 rifled pages — 
 Now but in simple voice that feigns no art in 
 
 the telling, 
 
 [1] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Now in the sonorous line, the six tongued harp 
 
 of the poet, 
 Have I your wizard tale, and thus, as it is, will 
 
 I bruit it: — 
 
 jg, ^ 4^ ^y. 
 
 W V? ^ ^ 
 
 *^Out on a grass-blown hill top that looks on 
 
 the Tuscan water. 
 Lulled by the moan of the wind and the distant 
 
 drone of the breakers. 
 Through the long afternoon of a Mediterranean 
 
 summer. 
 Sat I with golden Chloe and Pyrrha, the 
 
 daughter of Gallus. 
 
 '* Fresh and salt o'er the sea from the twin 
 isles off to the Westward, 
 
 Zephyr, the father of steeds, and the foam-yoked 
 billows came skipping. 
 
 And in the fathomless depths of the measure- 
 less desert above us 
 
 Trailed by, in endless line, the caravans of the 
 heavens. 
 
 Over our shoulders afar, through the green of 
 orchard and vineyard 
 
 Sparkled a yawning sun on the breast of the 
 lake of Salinae. 
 
 [2] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 In the wide plains to the north, patched like 
 
 the cloak of a beggar, 
 Woodlands and farmlands and fields with the 
 
 smoke-wreath of many a dwelling, 
 Stretched to the sacred Isles and the streams of 
 
 the mighty Albula. 
 While, from the arbors below, faint, for the 
 
 wind was opposing. 
 Floated the odor of wine, and the song of the 
 
 treaders. 
 
 ''Thus we sat, but anon, up the steep path 
 through the laurel. 
 
 Slow in his step, but firm, Paisalis, mounted be- 
 side US; 
 
 Paisalis, loved by the Fates, hale in his number- 
 less summers, 
 
 Paisalis, child of the sea, born of the limitless 
 billows, 
 
 Paisalis, prophet of storms, and seer of the will 
 of Poseidon. 
 
 Not without reverend awe e'en though he be but 
 a freedman, 
 
 Gently we sat him down, and drew up the 
 folds of his mantle. 
 
 'Come blameless Seer,' said I, fearing he think 
 me a dullard, 
 
 [3] 
 
KAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 ^Rest thee up here a while. The way is long 
 and good Zephyr 
 
 Sends ns a pleasant gale, rolling up grape-green 
 waves, 
 
 Gay with their kerchiefs of spray, and white as 
 thy fluttering tresses. 
 
 Mayhap thou hast in mind some dread sea tale 
 or some fabled 
 
 Myth of sea nurtured men, or legend of oar- 
 loving peoples. 
 
 We of the fallow enjoy, and dearly, the stories 
 of sailors.' 
 
 '^Then as the broad oak plough that follows 
 
 the swing-paced oxen 
 Rends the black soil aside and turns the rich 
 
 sod in the meadow. 
 So, on the old man's brow, the furrows of 
 
 thought were uplifted. 
 Thus, for a time, he sat shrouded in mists of 
 
 remembrance ; 
 Conning three ages of man as never the ruler 
 
 of Pylos, 
 Spared by the heroes hand, could call, to mind. 
 
 Then Paisalis, 
 
 High in the treble of age, related strange fate 
 
 and his story. 
 
 * # * * 
 
 [4] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 '' ^I'U ne'er forget the morning we set forth, 
 And slipped our cable from the wharves of 
 
 home, 
 Past the familiar shores, crowned with their 
 
 orchards of olive. 
 Villa, and tower and hill, and all the familiar 
 
 surroundings ; 
 Down the blue bosomed bay, swiftly and easily 
 
 sailing, 
 Whit'ning our bows as we went, till naught but 
 
 the sea before us. 
 Splashing and groaning we turn, and fly with 
 
 full sail to the Westward. 
 
 ^' ^Out from Apulian shores with Eurus aloft 
 
 in the rigging. 
 Quickly the murmuring keel trailed laughing 
 
 furrows behind us; 
 Down the low Brutian coast — a shield on the 
 
 sapphirine skyline. 
 Never an oarblade dipped till Sicily fell to the 
 
 leeward ; 
 Never a reef or a tack, till Drepanum faded 
 
 behind us. 
 
 * * # # 
 
 '' 'Master, look, yon — what follows us astern?' 
 The sailor gazed beneath his shading hand: 
 [5] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 '* Naught but two cranes/' said he, and turned 
 
 about. 
 '^There's not an omen there. If bode they do, 
 They bode a further season of this blast. 
 Now shouldst thou see a raven flying south 
 Across our bows^ — then that's an evil sign." 
 The Treirarch laughed a fierce uncanny laugh. 
 ^^ Jove's curse," cried he, ^^ upon your portents, 
 
 signs. 
 Your augury, your birds, and all the lot. 
 Know, craven seaman I have sailed afar 
 On every sea that washes every soil. 
 Never a prayer or sacrifice I made. 
 From Colchis, Thrace, to Antioch and Tyre, 
 From Tarraco to Grades and Britain too.^ — 
 Nor ever will make. Talk not thus to me, 
 To say a crow, or any fowl that files 
 Let it be black or white, can change a gale. 
 Learn this — a gale's a gale, until 'tis blown. 
 * ' 'Twill blow its full to spite thee, or thy crow. ' ' 
 
 '^ ^Hardly these blasphemies, when, from the 
 north 
 On heavy wing the bird of omen came. 
 Black as the sail of Minos sent from Crete, 
 The punishment of Zeus that felled a king. 
 
 [6] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Thrice did it cross our bows — circling the bark, 
 Thrice croaked in hoarse derision, and then fled, 
 A speck soon lost upon the Southern sky. 
 
 ^' *Then, in quick gusts, the wind swooped 
 
 down with impetuous violence, 
 Stretching the gaping sail, and straining the 
 
 ropes and the halyards 
 Taut as the thews of a stag that flees wild eyed 
 
 from the hunter. 
 Fiercer and fiercer it blew, and faster and faster 
 
 the vessel 
 Leaped o'er the flying sea, and groaned as she 
 
 cut thru the billows. 
 
 ^^ ^Then, for twelve nights and days, we fled 
 
 in the face of the tempest; 
 Half of the crew at the truck, and half in the 
 
 hold with the buckets; 
 Never a rest of rain or pause in the pound of 
 
 the billows, 
 Never a rift in the rack, — nor glimmer of star 
 
 or of sunbeam; 
 Only the howl of the wind and the storm scud 
 
 bleak and forbidding. 
 Then came the stagnant fog in thick gray folds, 
 Shrouding and silent as a winter tomb, 
 
 [7] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 No breath to stir the veils but placid calm, 
 And all about the stillness as of death. 
 ^ # # # 
 
 ^' ^Thus for three days we rowed and on the 
 fourth 
 The white mist vanished and the sun disclosed 
 Our bark alone, upon an unknown sea, 
 While in long swells capacious billows rolled 
 Like migrant mountains moving gently on. 
 No sight nor sound of living thing was near. 
 No voice save of the wind and of the wave. 
 We sat upon our oars. Whither to row? 
 Despondent, baffled — for all ways were one. 
 
 ' ^ ^ Then rose the pilot from the slippery deck, 
 And from his cloak unsheathed his seaman's 
 
 sword. 
 ' ' Treirarch, " he hissed, ''thou base, blasphem- 
 ing hound. 
 Dogface, we know 'tis thou that hast brought 
 
 down 
 The Sea King's bitter wrath upon our craft. 
 Up comrades! Fling him to the waves! I trow 
 No child of Nereus will her wimple give 
 To bear him safe to shore. Come, seize him, 
 mates!" 
 
 [8] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 a ii 
 
 ^Not a man stirs. The Treirarch grins 
 and slips 
 His hand into his sea cloak for his knife. 
 The Pilot frowns. ^^What, are ye craven, too! 
 Then must I slay this pestilence myself?" 
 He moves along the rail. The Treirarch grins : 
 '^Come not too near, fair pilot, not too near." 
 The pilot heeds him, for he seems to pause 
 A moment, while his adversary draws. 
 And lays his open blade upon his palm 
 Upturned in act to throw. The two draw near. 
 
 *' ^The while like a thing insane the vessel 
 
 pitching and tossing 
 . Rolls, as over the side the sea bursts in with a 
 
 fury. 
 Pilling our scuppers full, and boiling with white 
 
 rage aboard us. 
 Thus do the two men stand awaiting an opening 
 ' ' Hold for this wave ! " a seaman 's warning cry. 
 He cries too late. The Treirarch throws and 
 
 true — 
 Down sweeps the wave. Where two men stood, 
 
 now one — 
 The pilot lies outstretched — a vivid crimson 
 
 stain 
 
 [9] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Begins to ooze, to creep, across the deck. 
 We raise him up. — Alas, he sees us not. 
 The woof is rent, and Clotho 's loom is still. 
 
 ^' ^Then, were our stricken minds confused 
 with mysterious warnings ; 
 Many and dire to tell the signs of impending 
 disaster. 
 
 ** ^Scarcely the bloody corpse had settled to 
 
 rest, and the water 
 Swallowed, with sullen jaws, the shroud and its 
 
 spectral burthen, 
 When behold on the right, clear from a cloudless 
 
 heaven, 
 Crashed, with a trail of fire, the curse of the 
 
 Father All Knowing. 
 
 '^ 'Darker, the sunless sky grew; black with 
 
 mysterious shadows; 
 Out of the scowling north great cloud countries 
 
 loweringly gathered, 
 Filling the vaulted air with mountains of 
 
 Stygian blackness. 
 Far and wide o'er the deep, a mighty and 
 
 momentous murmur, 
 
 [10] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Rose from a million throats of whirlwinds 
 
 marsh 'ling to standards, 
 As when, in frantic dance, the Wine God 
 
 mad'ning to frenzy, 
 Loosing the shackled tongues, are the shrieks of 
 
 the naked Bacchantes, 
 Thus, as the tumult rose, the voice of the limit- 
 less ocean 
 Shouted its fury afar, and lifted aloft to the 
 
 heavens 
 A visage of Wrath and Woe, and flung out the 
 
 length of its tresses. 
 Casting its curtains of rain like nets to entangle 
 
 its victim; 
 While, in ominous tone, the Jove-ordered 
 
 thunder resounded. 
 And the lithe lightning spat with snake-like 
 
 tongues of destruction. 
 We, when our trembling limbs refused in their 
 
 fright to support us. 
 Fell down with white lips and prayed — to which 
 
 as in answer, 
 Out of the deep there swelled a billow huge as 
 
 a mountain; 
 Towered aloft, and fell with ponderous pres- 
 sure upon us. 
 
 [11] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Here and there a spar, a block, or a splinter of 
 
 yard arm, 
 Sunk 'neath a swarm of men — or struggling 
 
 alone in the water. 
 Some, ere they struggled, died; and down thru 
 
 the vast green shadow, 
 Maia, arraigner of souls, and far-shining page 
 
 of Olympus, 
 Drew out the breath of life and sentenced the 
 
 spirit to Orcus. 
 
 '' 'Scarcely this prayer when afar, fainter 
 
 than distant shouting. 
 Sounded a hollow roar, as when on a distant 
 
 hilltop. 
 Standing against the day, a great-necked victim 
 
 of Pluto 
 Roars in his Stygian might, and echoes the hills 
 
 with his thunder. 
 Then from a crested wave, borne up on the mass 
 
 beneath me. 
 Looked I afar, and afar off on the purple 
 
 horizon. 
 Shadowy mountains rose, and below on the 
 
 shoreline, 
 
 [12] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Bellowed the sea on the rocks, bursting with 
 
 mighty surge, 
 Casting the spray aloft, and aloft to the summit 
 Glittered the dripping eliif, like armor of bronze 
 
 in the sunlight. 
 Yet did my heart despair ; my knees sank beneath 
 
 me, 
 As to darkening sky a winged prayer I uplifted : 
 
 '* * Father Poseidon, lord and king of the 
 
 wide-wayed Ocean, 
 Hear, I beseech thee, my prayer — the voice of 
 
 thy prophet and servant — 
 Driven afar by thy hand — far from the tillage 
 
 of men. 
 Yon, hast thou bid me behold the land and a 
 
 promised salvation. 
 Over the wave have I passed, secure from thy 
 
 wrath and the tempest. 
 Breasted the fishy sea, and the billow that surges 
 
 around me. 
 Yet, might I better have died, then now, lest it 
 
 be by thy favor, 
 Venture too near this coast, where, snatched by 
 
 the ravenous breakers, 
 Well might I end in vain — ' 
 
 [13] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 *' ^Hardly these words, when the depths and 
 the gulfs of the grape-green darkness 
 
 Stirred with a sudden surge, and boiled like 
 a seething caldron — 
 
 Wondrous to see — and behold the spar, and its 
 tackle beneath me — 
 
 Horrible sight: — it has changed to the form of 
 a silvery dolphin. 
 
 Bearing me on its back, and cutting the hoary 
 ocean. 
 
 Swift as a sailing bird, a gull, in the terrible 
 inlets. 
 
 Sweeping the barren sea, and traces the wave 
 with its pinions. 
 
 Over the deep it flies, and on to the rock shore- 
 line. 
 
 Swift as a minute's breath, and all in an in- 
 stant. 
 
 High on the strand am I cast, and sink in the 
 grass on the margin.' " 
 
 Here ends the tale, and to the naked mind. 
 The fortune and the story else is left ; 
 Alone this stands, the memory of a long 
 Forgotten age: a whispered fragment of 
 A greater light — alas, too little known. 
 
 [14] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To a Thrush 
 
 THOU hidden organist of dim lighted aisles ; 
 Eternal minstrel of God's solitude; 
 Wood spirit; songster of celestial mood! 
 Herald the Sun's processional through miles 
 
 Of dreamy silence. With thy song renewed, 
 The feet of dusky twilight greets the smiles 
 Of weary Day, and, wh^en the Moon has 
 brewed 
 The nectar of the Night on each blind flower, 
 Thou wak'st again, and, from thy leafy bower. 
 Dost herald in the harbingers of day. 
 Sometimes in emerald silence hid away 
 Thou sing'st again before the evening hour. 
 Oh! That thy voice were mine; for with thy 
 power 
 A twice-crowned Orpheus I might out-play. 
 
 [15] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Autumn 
 
 THE golden autumn rests upon the land, 
 A shade of sadness with her glory 
 spread — 
 A thought of sorrow that the leaves are dead, 
 Blown down in silence at the wind^s command. 
 The barn-yard fowl 'neath sheltering haycocks 
 stand. 
 Drowsed with full crops and bounteous fodder 
 
 fed. 
 While far up through the ether overhead, 
 The wild fowl passes for the southland bound. 
 And from the wooded hillside comes the sound 
 Of countless crow-flocks cawing as they pass. 
 The thrifty squirrel labors to amass 
 His store of nuts, while on the atmosphere 
 
 A mist-veil floats, the smoke of many fires — 
 Burnt sacrifices to the dying year. 
 
 [16] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To a Wild Fowl 
 
 I SING to thee, thou wanderer of the air, 
 Beating sweet music in thy pinion's flight, 
 "Who droppest from the ether unaware 
 
 On some dark pool with splashings of delight 
 Only to rise again in hurried flight, 
 
 As if vague danger lurked in hiding there. 
 And, gaining, once again, the heaven's height. 
 
 At length to some new solitude repair. 
 E'en though, thy life is fraught with ceaseless 
 fear. 
 Thou hast thy freedom, and thy wings are 
 
 strong. 
 What if thy course be laborious and long? 
 No tyrant force restricts thee to this sphere. 
 Beyond the Trades, yea, to the frozen sea. 
 Thy path is marked, thy way is wide and free; 
 And shouldst thou meet thy journey's end anon, 
 Thou mayst, more free, in lasting peace pass on. 
 
 [17] 
 
EATIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 The Legend of the Trillium 
 
 THERE is a blossom of the early spring, 
 The trillium, or love flower it is called, 
 That blooms in swampy hollows in the woods. 
 A modest plant, it lifts a starry face 
 To heaven like some praying penitent, 
 Four deep red petals and a golden heart. 
 
 There is a legend haunting this mute flower, 
 A tale retold in ages long ago; 
 Handed from lost lips down to other tongues. 
 Till generations echoed it to ours. 
 
 I had the story from an old, old man, 
 Who dwelt aloof the winter of his years 
 Upon the shifting sand-dunes by the sea. 
 A sailor had he been, who saw the birth 
 And viewed the cradle of this mighty state. 
 In days when oaken timber shattered oak; 
 And cutlass rang on cutlass, an anon, 
 ^'Old Ironsides'' drew apart and let her sink 
 Great Britain's glory, in the depthless sea. 
 
 [18] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 But now the man had fallen with the age, 
 
 And passed with it into oblivion. 
 
 Only the voice remained, which nature held 
 
 Prophet of her recondite mysteries. 
 
 And with the man the memory, too, had fled. 
 
 Vague dreams of sea fights and of thund'ring 
 
 ships 
 His mind knew naught, but only simple tales 
 (The inoffensive vagaries of age). 
 For when the world gave honorable discharge. 
 Nature awarded second infancy. 
 And oped his eyes to twice appreciate 
 And claim again those finer attributes. 
 Which men, in blindness, christen ^^ childish 
 things. ' ' 
 
 And so the dawning and the setting sun 
 Of life 's great day found boon companionship 
 Out on a foam-necked bar when sang the gale, 
 Or in the evening when the sky had cooled 
 And left a steel blue sea to mock the stars, 
 We sat and watched a tawny lover's moon 
 Creep shyly up the pathway of the night. 
 And talked of wood lore, and of Indian ways, 
 And he would tell this tale and others too. 
 
 * ^ In a time unknown to old men, 
 In a time of mist and shadows, 
 [19] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Mo-no-my-neck, the great spirit, 
 Ruler of the wind and sunshine, 
 Of the storm-cloud and the thunder. 
 Of the rain that falls in summer 
 And the snow that comes in winter, 
 Made the world and all creation. 
 First he made an endless water. 
 Salty like the dew of sorrow; 
 Then the mighty rocks and headlands, 
 And the white and sandy shore-line; 
 Breathed the life of herb upon them. 
 And the beach grass and the ivy 
 Straightway sprouted forth and flourished. 
 Next the lakes and rivers made he, 
 And the reedy marsh and fenlands. 
 Made the codfish and the herring 
 And the flocks of clanking wild fowl ; 
 Filled the forest with the red deer; 
 Filled the inland lakes with fishes ; 
 Made the many moons and seasons, 
 Made the days of feast and fasting. 
 And when all his work was finished, 
 Climbed he 0-sa-ah, the pine tree. 
 Looked afar and near with pleasure, 
 Pride, and rapture at his doing. 
 Then plucked he a granite boulder 
 
 [20] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 From its socket in the meadow, 
 Whispered magic words above it, 
 Many magic words and symbols. 
 Burst in two the granite boulder. 
 And there stepped forth to the sunlight 
 Gloos-kap, first of all the red men. 
 Tall was he and broad of shoulder, 
 With a wealth of ebon tresses; 
 Huge his hands, and huge his forearm. 
 Like the huge trunk of an oak tree; 
 Knotted like its limbs, his muscles 
 Stood out on his massive shoulders. 
 ^Gloos-kap, first of all the red men 
 Have I made you,' said the spirit, 
 ^Last of all my great creations. 
 You shalt rule o'er my dominions. 
 See, I give you woods to hunt in. 
 Give you lakes and ponds to fish in. 
 Give you fire, and give you weapons 
 All are yours, if you obey me.' 
 Forth went Gloos-kap, forth rejoicing; 
 With his bow and with his arrows. 
 Slew the red buck in the forest; 
 Slew the bear, and slew the panther, 
 Killed, and revelled in his killing, 
 Till his lodge was filled with trophies — 
 
 [21] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Skins of otter and of beaver, 
 Horns and hides of moose and bison. 
 'But alas, what good these trophies?' 
 Thought he, as he sat at evening 
 In the doorway of his wigwam. 
 'None but I can ever see them, 
 None but I can ever use them; 
 Must I live my life in silence. 
 Solitude, and desolation?' 
 
 Down from out the starry silence, 
 Like a meteor from heaven. 
 Fell the maiden Shan-go-ne-na, 
 Daughter of the Star of Evening, 
 And the night wind, Swa-na-kewis. 
 And she fell beside the wigwam 
 Of the solitary Gloos-kap, 
 Sitting in the drowsy twilight 
 At his lodge door by the river, 
 Listening to the endless music 
 Of the mingling flood of waters 
 Listening to the breeze of evening, 
 Sighing softly in the pine tops. 
 
 Thus sang Shan-go-ne-na, daughter 
 Of the night wind, Swa-na-kewes ; 
 'Gloos-kap, first of all the red men. 
 Listen: I have come to help you 
 
 [22] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 From the wigwam of my mother 
 In the far-off land of evening. 
 Mo-no-my-neck, the great spirit, 
 Down to be your squaw has sent me. 
 Listen: I have come to cheer you.' 
 But the solitary Gloos-kap 
 In his lodge door by the river, 
 Heard her not, or, if he heard her. 
 Knew her song not from the singing 
 Of the ever-rushing river. 
 Knew her song not from the moaning 
 Of the night wind in the pine tops. 
 Then the heart of Shan-go-ne-na 
 Burst within her pretty bosom, 
 And, in sorrow, softly weeping. 
 Crept she off into the silence — 
 "Wandered weeping through the forest. 
 But each tear-drop from her eyelids, 
 Falling on the soft pine needles. 
 Sprang, at once, into a blossom. 
 Crimson petaled, golden hearted. 
 Thus her pathway through the forest 
 'Came a winding trail of flowers. 
 In the dewy sun of morning, 
 Came the solitary Gloos-kap, 
 Came upon the trail of blossoms, 
 
 [23] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Plucked one flower, and breathed its odor, 
 Breathed the pollen from each petal. 
 Then his heavy heart within him 
 Fluttered wildly in his bosom. 
 In and out among the tree trunks 
 Through the tamarack and balsam, 
 Swifter than the swiftest red deer. 
 On his flying feet he followed. 
 And he cried aloud in anguish; 
 ^ Shan-go-ne-na, Shan-go-ne-na, 
 Do not fade away and perish! 
 Do not scald your lovely eyelids 
 AYith the bitter tears of weeping! 
 Hear me, lovely Shan-go-ne-na!' 
 And the lovely Shan-go-ne-na 
 From afar off heard the calling, 
 Rose with outstretched arm to meet him, 
 Gave herself to his protection. 
 Thus, the solitary Gloos-kap 
 Found a wife and a companion; 
 And the lodge beside the river 
 Echoed with her rippling laughter ; 
 Echoed like the rippling laughter 
 Of the water o'er the shallows. 
 While his love for her ran deeply 
 As the river through the meadows — 
 Dark and deep and everlasting. 
 [24] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Thus it is, that when in springtime 
 Youth and maiden roam together, 
 Through the woodland by the river, 
 Shan-go-ne-na 's tears await them. 
 Grown into that lovely blossom 
 Called the trillium, or love-flower. 
 
 [25] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To the Spirit of the Allied Women 
 
 TAKE ! It is yours to take, and ours to give 
 Down to our willing strength's last humble 
 
 dross : 
 Honor for you to die — for us to live, 
 That dying you be spared too sore a cross. 
 On thru the filth ; the fog ; the blood ; the hell — 
 Our lives for your lives till each foe was slain: 
 No rest for us until his funeral knell 
 Assured our dead they had not died in vain. 
 Heart sick and weary, say not ^^Hope is lost." 
 Mangled, and burnt, and blind — we hear your 
 
 cries 
 Victory— ours — no matter what the cost — 
 Complete and whole — this only was our prize. 
 Thus, when the day dawns and the tempests 
 
 cease 
 Will war, thus ended bring us surer peace. 
 
 [26] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 At the Crossways 
 
 {The last ivords of a young officer to his 
 "bride of a few months.) 
 
 AND now the parting of our ways draws 
 near, 
 And I to you, my own, must say good-bye 
 Let me not see frail sorrow in your eye, 
 Or, on your cheek, a weak and callow tear. 
 Kiss me adieu — and though my frame be here 
 Pray for my soul, in silence and good cheer. 
 And, weep not at my loss nor ever sigh, 
 For sorrow pales the cheek, and fosters fear. 
 Thus, let us part, my love — since part we must 
 And loose our passion from an earthly sight. 
 'Tis bitter mockery to mourn our plight. 
 "What prisoned soul has yet obtained delight 
 Upon this earth ? Yet, when we both are dust 
 111 meet and love you in the after night. 
 
 Colonia Base Hospital, Dec, 1918 
 [27] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Prothanatos 
 
 IF I must see the reckoning of hate 
 And man's whole fortune waisted on a 
 throw. 
 If I must live to suffer, or to know 
 My flag's dishonor or a soldier's fate — 
 Moving an atom in that vast estate 
 That mingles nations in a common woe, 
 Grant me this prayer — the last before I go 
 That I may calm the sacrifice await. 
 Great God — I beg this comfort e're the dawn 
 Sows my unfruitful dust on war's dry plain 
 May my faint voice some future soul forewarn 
 To seek a loftier tone — a nobler strain. 
 For this I strove — ^but — am become in vam 
 A vagrant voice that whispers — and is gone. 
 
 
 [28] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Forget Not This 
 
 MOTHER, how can I take your guiding hand 
 That led my faltering steps along the way 
 Thus far, till now ? How can I still obey 
 Your will, with honor, were you to command 
 That I should shun my Country's call— and 
 
 stay? 
 Would God I could, and, for a time, delay 
 That fatal hour when you must understand 
 The sacrifice that has been yours to pay. 
 But, I must go — and Mother, if the toss 
 Of gambling fate spares someone in my stead 
 Forget not this, yours was the noblest loss; 
 To save men's souls, perchance, it may be said. 
 For this was not Christ's life blood nobly shed 
 Oh happy — that your son might bare his cross. 
 
 April, 19th, 1917, 
 
 [29] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 War's Apocalypse 
 
 A NAMELESS body, frozen in the mire 
 Shackled in crimson bonds upturned it 
 lies. 
 Mark the grim jaw: the cold defiant eyes. 
 For him the charge has sounded no ^^ retire.'' 
 Here, on a crater's brink, beneath our wire, 
 Bullet or shrapnel — we can but surmise. 
 The mud his tomb, and ghastly death his prize. 
 The portion of a soldier under fire. 
 Mangled he fell, denied love's last caress 
 (Too rich a compost for a foreign sod) 
 All that life holds — love — honor — and success, 
 Death cruelly smothered out — but — nonetheless 
 Can death destroy man's union with his God? 
 And, having this, what more can man possess? 
 
 [30] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 The Sin of War 
 
 THE foe came over in the early dawn 
 In tangled masses, straight upon our guns. 
 We piled their mangled carcasses like corn 
 Yet, on they came — until their ranks, so torn, 
 Sank down in little heaps^ — then twos and ones ; 
 And, when the last gray bauble soul had gone, 
 We rested till the demon sent more on. 
 And thus the daily tide of battle runs. 
 Oh, it is not the loss of food and arms ; 
 Nor priceless treasures Art cannot restore; 
 Nor yet those shell torn wastes that once were 
 
 farms : — 
 'Tis none of these. The horror of this strife — 
 The grewsome all appalling sin of war, 
 Is this — the waste, the ruthless waste of human 
 
 life! 
 
 [31] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Semper Idem! 
 
 (To the ''New Poets'') 
 
 I HEARD a great prophetic voice of old- 
 Preaching rich truth to young unlist'ning 
 ears: 
 ^^Seek not to foil the wisdom of the Seers, 
 With new wrought fancies — plastic from the 
 
 mould ! 
 Why must you try to overcrowd our fold, 
 With unborn poets whose debased ideas 
 Outrage our standards and deride our years? 
 Alas — Art's vestal fires are growing cold/' 
 Thus the loud past to the mute future prays — 
 Threatening destruction to unseeing eyes — 
 And thus the wisdom of our yesterdays 
 Slips thru our toils, and, all unheeded, dies. 
 Why mourn its loss ? Must we not realize 
 That God devines and man the puppet plays? 
 
 February, 1918, 
 
 [32] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To My Wife on the Death of Her Mother 
 
 OH, all thy sorrow was my sorrow — sweet 
 And, all thy day's of sadness were my 
 
 days! 
 I felt the terror and the sullen beat 
 Of the dull heart that only hopes and prays : 
 I felt the scalding flood of yesterday's 
 First rush of anguish, and I heard the feet, 
 That sounded thru the house and in the street, 
 Of those who came to mourn — then went their 
 
 ways. 
 I felt that ghastly silence of the tomb. 
 I heard friends speak — yet knew not what they 
 
 said. 
 I tried (and yet in vain) to shun the room, 
 To keep my tear-stained eyes from off the bed — 
 To think she only slept there in the gloom — 
 And would not thus — forever — lie there dead. 
 
 January, 1918. 
 
 [33] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To Mother 
 
 THE sun has laid his prayer-rug in the west 
 And from the flowery pastures comes a 
 strain, 
 The voices of the twilight's sweet refrain — 
 A low persuasive lullaby of rest. 
 Then dusk lays down her head on evening's 
 
 breast ; 
 And later, creeping from the stacks of grain 
 A melancholy moon in crimson wane 
 Enters the heavens like a timid guest. 
 I hear the last, sweet melancholy bar 
 A thrush's valediction to the light. 
 How rich the echoes float back from afar. 
 It sings, and yet it gives me no delight. 
 While thou art ill, my sadness — like a scar 
 Defaces all the beauty of the night. 
 
 A New England Hillside, Sept. 4, 1916. 
 
 [34] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 A Letter from the Hebrides 
 
 {To a Dear Old Lady — the last survivor 
 of a once powerful clan) 
 
 A LETTER lies awaiting my intent, 
 Come from a far off land within the week ; 
 Writ on the bond of some Paruked antique; 
 Pompous of grain — ^with bearings eminent — 
 Arms of a mighty house: — once proud and sleek. 
 Sword of their faith, and buckler to the weak — 
 From Caledonia's hills their challenge sent — 
 A falchion's blade to beard a monarch's pique. 
 A scent of rose — long blown — pervades the 
 
 leaves — 
 Rich, like the slow tuned wines of OUispo; 
 As if to venerate that sterner age 
 Of heroes past, this milder child had shed 
 The life blood of these flowers that humble grow, 
 Where Campbell's brands that never could as- 
 suage 
 Lost freedom's grief — sheathed, at the last, in 
 
 woe. 
 Were laid forever with those honored dead. 
 
 [35] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Love Speechless 
 
 HOW can it be, my dear, since you and I 
 Have found our lives so mated each to 
 each, 
 That all our sweetest thoughts are out of reach ; 
 While all our deepest feelings do defy, 
 The fullest power of any earthly speech? 
 And yet, they seem so simple, we ask why 
 No sound except a murmur or a sigh 
 Can seem to sound our love ? Ah, could we teach 
 Our tongues to tell the raptures that we knew. 
 And free that yearning to lay bare our mind. 
 Why can't we speak just as we always do? 
 Alas, must we then count the saying true. 
 And add, as well, ^^Love is not only blind. 
 But now discovered to be speechless, too?'' 
 
 [36] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To a Child of the Sunrise 
 
 IT might have been in far off Martisan, 
 That I had chanced to come upon her face : 
 The straight black hair — ^the skin of olive tan — 
 She might have been to market with her man, 
 Or treading thru the crowded market place. 
 Yet — she was Occidental, with a fan, 
 Unveiled, and charming with an easy grace, 
 Eevealing all the beauties of her race. 
 The plain tree's stately shadows are her eyes, 
 Like opaque pools of silence in the shade 
 Flashing that pulsing power that latent lies 
 Of Oriental love, that, unafraid 
 Gives all from those rich lips, and, if betrayed 
 Like rusted grain, in crimson passion dies — 
 A body and a life for rapture made. 
 
 [37] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To Somebody's Wife 
 
 OF late, among some treasures in my desk, 
 I found a teak-wood box of letters hid ; 
 And, as I dearly love the picturesque, 
 (Just as of old our sly Pandora did) 
 I broke the lock, and lifted up the lid. 
 But once I looked — and — as I turned away, 
 A lump crept up my throat. I could not rid 
 My fancy of the thought that there ^^you" lay. 
 Could it have been that meeting ^^you" alone 
 Had stirred my *^old love" with an unknown 
 
 power ? 
 Ah no! It was but fancy. Had ^^you" known 
 How cynically I smiled, *^you,'' too, would own: 
 First love is like an aromatic flower — 
 Which, sweet in blossom — is far sweeter blown. 
 
 July, 1916. 
 
 [38] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To F. S. B. of New York 
 
 YOU have a voice like some wild bird — 
 sweet childr — 
 That sings her plaintive wood lays from her 
 
 heart : 
 Simple and free ; 'tis with a dainty art 
 You have the hours with golden song beguiled — 
 A throat of nature singing fancy wild 
 Sweet strains of happiness and love impart — 
 Bringing fresh fancy to the Poet's mart 
 To thrill once more those hearts yet undefiled 
 An open mirror to a world of dreams — 
 Your eyeiB have not betrayed your truthful 
 
 hand — 
 Nor has the sun forgot to shed his beams 
 To light your path that leads from fairy land 
 Lastly — you have a trust in God, who deems 
 You worthy of the task that he has planned. 
 
 [39] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Sunset Road 
 
 YOU know that bare round knoll that fronts 
 the bay 
 The end of sunset 's road when tide is high : 
 "Where, when the sea, a mirror to the sky, 
 Held, in its golden balance, night and day 
 We used to climb, now many years gone by? 
 And, as we sat there, often you would say, 
 '^This silent grandeur bares my soul away 
 Beyond man's world. Somehow, I can't tell 
 
 why." 
 Alone, of late, I climbed that hill again 
 To guess the secret of those bygone days. 
 Dear friend — it was your sacrifice — ^your pain, 
 That, since, has taught me what that scene 
 
 portrays. 
 'Tis endless peace that guards God's vast domain. 
 While fickle truce man's puny rule betrays. 
 
 [40] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 To Little Maud 
 
 SWEET little Dryad, purest soul of myrth 
 Why must you suffer from this unknown 
 
 hate? 
 What sin is yours, that you, so gay, of late. 
 Must toss those golden curls beyond all worth 
 Upon a tortured pillow, while your earth 
 Bow to my prayer, and with bowed heads await 
 Till time, with clumsy thumbs, unrolls your fate. 
 You cannot leave your earth— your fields — 
 
 your sky; 
 Your birds would sing not, nor your woods reply. 
 You must live on, and, in the years to be 
 Loosen the bonds, and break the chains that lie 
 Between our dreams and a reality 
 Great God — who lovest all, I beg Thee — See, 
 She is too good — too innocent to die. 
 
 [41] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Laurel Leaves 
 
 A GRAND old man with all an elder's 
 grace 
 Beside a nodding fire he seems to doze — 
 My cheery grandsire, whose contented face 
 Each generation of our village knows. 
 Alone he sits and lingers to its close 
 A life that never knew the galling pace 
 That craves success or fame. Yet, when he goes 
 Our hearts will want another for his place 
 Thus, by the smouldering logs he sits content, 
 His name unknown beyond our narrow town. 
 What matters this ? His years were nobly spent 
 The man whose dreams; whose life; whose soul 
 
 are bent 
 To make one woman happy: — ^his renown 
 Is voiceless, but transcends a monument. 
 
 [42] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 The Nobler Grace 
 
 DO you believe I love you for your eyes 
 Or for the titian ringlets of your hair ; 
 Or for your lips? Alone is all my care 
 Lavished upon that beauty which I prize 
 Because men worship and your sisters stare? 
 A shallow tree soon withers in the glare, 
 And thus a shallow passion quickly dies. 
 True love is rooted deep with stronger ties. 
 And thus I love you with a love that grows 
 As I behold in you that nobler grace 
 That looks beyond life's frailties and shows — 
 The mock display ; the empty commonplace — 
 That sees true happiness has, too, its price — 
 That toil is love and love is sacrifice. 
 
 [43] 
 
EAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Metathmalion 
 
 IF you could link your virgin soul to mine 
 And trust me with the trust of your own 
 heart ; 
 If we, like twin immortals, from the start — 
 Thwarting grim fate's disruptable design, 
 Could hold to what is noble; what is fine, 
 And never turn at odds, or drift apart; 
 And love each other with Truth's simple art. 
 Then, might we say, our union was devine. 
 Alas, we fear — and grim fear, like a knife, 
 Sunders our bonds so jealousy creeps in — 
 Mutually hidden — a protected sin. 
 Like the huge boulder, whose gigantic life. 
 Is wrent asunder by a crack so thin — 
 Thus bursts the monument of man and wife. 
 
 [44] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 How Does Love Come? 
 
 HOW does love come? I often ponder this. 
 It slips into the tissue of our lives; 
 Where, like a drug of dreams, it half revives 
 And half creates anew. Indeed, its bliss 
 Is neither new nor old, and seems remiss 
 In nothing, for, if circumstances deprives. 
 Can we not live again when memory strives 
 To counterfeit the wonder of a kiss? 
 Love stirs those deep and sensuous refrains 
 That lead the fancy out in moonlit glades 
 To breathe the night's sweet perfume down the 
 
 lanes 
 A short motif, for, like the moon, it wanes ; 
 Blends softly in life 's symphony, and fades — 
 A tender chanson drowned in sadder strains. 
 
 [45] 
 
RAPIDS AND STILL WATER 
 
 Let Thine Eyes Look Right 
 
 I MET, one eve, upon a hill-top road 
 A dusty traveller kneeling as to pray, 
 But gazing off, afar to where the day, 
 A molten mass of golden cloudlands glowed 
 Until the last bright spark had cooled to gray. 
 Then he arose, and, as he swung his load, 
 '^Out there's my faith," said he, and, point- 
 ing showed 
 The heavens vast expanse, then strode away. 
 Time, and deep thought, have stamped that 
 
 traveller's creed 
 Upon my mind, till now I understand 
 Its truth ; and, now, my heart and soul are freed 
 And with a heart more true, I can demand 
 "What call has he, whose God is at his hand 
 To seek man's help to find him, at his need? 
 
 [46]