IP % Ss-5: iMi ■ ;.t ... Class _JE! Book , A ) ZEl&Jl. COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. Winnowing of tbe Winb B? Walter fflavius ODc Caleb Copyright 19 10 By W. F. McCaleb C CU278441) 2 k 3 TO MARIE CONTENTS PAGE The Daffodils I Knew i A Ship of Mine . 2 No Day So Dark 3 Thou Art Gone 4 Twilight 5 The Approach of Winter 6 Lines 7 Aurora 8 My Life 9 Sweet Be Thy Waking 10 Amidst the Corn n Touchmenot 12 Had I Wing or Lute or Tone 14 My Prayer 15 Alice 16 Disillusion 17 Yesterday 18 Robin, I Miss Thee 19 Can I Forget ? 20 Lead Me On 21 Along the River Marge 22 I Shall Not Mind 23 Lullaby 24 My Star 25 Can It Be Love ? 26 All in My Garden-Place 27 May 28 I've Seen Thy Face 29 v PAGE So Strange the Light 30 Remembering an Ascent of Popocatepetl ... 31 Truth 32 Palma 33 The Mocking Bird at Midnight 34 Consolation 35 Metamorphosis 36 Shall I Not Hope? 37 The Secret of Your Being 38 Cor Cordium 40 Without Thee 41 On the Mountains Overlooking Mexico . ... 42 Dover at Dawn 44 If Thou Shouldst Come Not Ever Again ... 45 Out of the Past 46 She Never Knew 47 Through the Vale 48 Memories Three 50 Adrift 51 To Venus 52 The Lees in an Undrained Bowl 53 Out of the Dark and Rain 54 She Lies Asleep 55 De Profundis 56 To Shelley 58 In the After-Light 59 Charon 60 To Spain 61 Sleep and Death 62 The Ideal 63 The Lost Caravan . 64 Since You Have Proven False 65 vi PAGE The Coming of Autumn 66 Shipwreck 6 7 Motes i' the Sun 68 Debacle 7° The Days of the Summer are Dead .... 71 Love Resurgent 7 2 To the Dying Century 73 Lafcadio Hearn 74 A Vision 75 In the Dark 7 6 Ube BaffoMis 1T Iknew O bonny golden daffodils, I wonder if your starry eyes Look yet into those wondrous skies I knew, and if your breath yet fills The air that calmed my fevered youth. Sweet sunny daffodils, Though long the time is gone, in truth, I see you peering forth again With faces bared to sun and rain, The first of all spring's darlings, you, With burning kisses and the dew Of heaven upon your lips — to blow In yonder spot that onetime knew My steps, so oft I came to show My love. It cannot be that death Has sealed within his cell your envied breath, Or that he for a season stills The golden heart of fire that thrills With every zephyr note. I know, Rare darling daffodils, You only sleep to rouse From winter's frosty house With many a nod and sigh And twinkle of radiant eye; For lo, I dream of a halcyon time And of a loved Southland clime, The while I sing my votary's rime — O bonny, golden daffodils. H Sbtp of /llMne On yonder gray horizon's rim there stands A ship of mine. Long since it sailed to sea, One of the white and golden argosy That bore my hopes afar to farthest lands. What gallant sails, what sheets and iron bands To cope with storm ! Mine other ships — ah me! — And cargoes have gone down where silently The gull dips 'round the wrecks upon the sands. Is this last ship that looms so distantly To fade beyond the line where wave and sky Forget themselves in one long dream of time ? Is it to furl its wings ; is it to fly With courier speed to bring me tale of crime, Or treasure rare, or grief, or love sublime? IRo 2>as So 2>arfe No day so dark But some white gleam From heaven a-stream Will leave its mark. Ubou Hrt <3one Thou art gone from out my life's brief hour As ceases bird-song or the power Of magic or the wonder of love ! . . . Thou art gone. . . . And I do tread as one Entranced a last long beam of sun Athwart Hyperion's grove. Meseems I drift on waters dark Where is no wave nor any barque — No life, save me and Memory. We two, and Silence stealing near, Sail on to where the morning clear Is luminous with thee. Tlwfliobt All dun and lurid burned the dying day Along the blear horizon to the west, Shooting athwart the piled clouds' snow crest Broad golden streams to dye the world's array In colors passing mortal to arrest; And in my deepest daring heart I blest The hallowed hour that swooned so far away. And then the tender after-glow, the gloom And dusk born of the night stole up to hide ; The stars peered coldly out across the tomb Where lies my Love so low the storms ne'er chide. Nor ever stirs to night's sad lullaby The faintest chord of that soul's harmony. Ube Bpproacb of TKMnter The white hydrangea plumes that faintly lean Against my window fade to ghostliness ; And faltering winds haunt every leaf and spray And stir the grasses, driving summer's troop Of insects where their wings are folded close For many an hour of frost. Then, wintry sleep — Down in the primal caves of Death — enfolds In slumbrous robes each tiny soul against A dawn that lies far out beyond the pale Of dream, beyond the star-lit spheres of Time. Xines pi ec l — w hen the evening was swooning, And the winds were hushed at their crooning With the cold and the mist that were born Where the dusk and the darkness are torn Out of chaos — my Love fled away, Past the night— past the light— past the day ! Hurora i The gray light kindled the eastern wold And thee I saw with thy hair of gold — An aura of light on life's rose-river. Lo, I worshiped aloud in a fane of mine, And pledged my love in many a line — The love of a heart that nothing could sever. II But thou didst flee in the shimmering heat, And left me alone at the trysting-seat To come not again, no never — no never. So the key is lost and the string unstrung, And the day drops low and the song's unsung — The melody flown forever and ever. /I&S Xtfe My life is like a vagrant autumn shower That hangs on high a dark-lit dreary hour — Only a passing human cloud, all tears — Weeping a moment ere the day-star clears. Sweet Be Ubs TimaftfrtQ Darkly the night rides over the hills, Softly the dusk-wind cradles and stills Sweet be thy waking, When morn is a-breaking. Drowsily drone the tireless bees, Dreamily ring the harps i' the trees; — Sleep till thy waking, With never an aching. Lonely I lie with lids wide apart, Longing for thee, dear absent heart; — Sweet be thy waking — My heart is a-breaking. Hmi&st tbe Corn The roseate dew lay on the grass Where strayed my love, the loveliest lass That e'er at breaking morn Went singing i' the corn. The light of heaven lay on her hair, The blue within her eyes, as there She went a-dreaming, half love-lorn, Amidst the waving corn. XToucbmenot I know the daintiest flower That blooms in the garden plot, For I have wandered and wandered, And seen in many a fragrant spot A myriad of them and all a-blowing, Dancing, dosing, dreaming, glowing, Closing i' the twilight. But she is all to me — All that they are not, Though they call her in derision Just a "Touchmenot." Lo, the name is sweet and tender, Tender memory — and I love what They decry. What can The rabble know of her The winsome-eyed, Of her the deified! What god or demon, sprite Or gnome; what burst of night Or glimpse of day have I to thank That she at last — of the flower-face — Unfolds her charmed grace Like fragrant petals narcissus-sprung, And flings them on the wind to me, So that my eager, eager hands Might overladen be With all the wonders of the lands That lie beyond the regions of the sun. Touchmenot, dear heart, forget me not. Though all the flowers fade and pass Into forgetfulness — alas — Thy name shall linger still, And all my rapturous praise Shall be upborne to thee, Like incense from the golden urn Where all the ashes burn Of earth's immortal lovers. . . . And I too am immortal, Loving thee past all the limits Set by space and time. So down in the garden grow and grow; Spread all thy lovely leaves Upon the air that grieves Because I love thee so. Open thy fragrant bosom's deep And let me, like the bee, creep in ; It is so warm down in thy petalled heart I know that all the world will envy me, But not avail to draw me forth — I bow my head, now close me in eternally. * 3 1bafc 1T miw or Xute or Zone Had I wing of bird or bee, Would I bide apart from thee? Had I voice of lissome glee How I'd tune it merrily! — Or vibrant lute of magic string How I'd thrum and as lover sing! Had I wing or lute or tone, Would I bind my lips and moan, Rob my restive soul of song That sings of thee the whole time long? /lfo£ prater To live and love and loved be — To work the blessed day — To do, to fare, to fight — be free- This is my prayer alway. 15 Hitce If you only knew The narrow nights and futile sodden days Since thine and mine were widened, parted ways, A night burst through — If you only knew ! If you only knew The feverish heart-beats that have hourly sent My purple pulse tiding to you all pent With love tales true — If you only knew ! If you only knew The longing that has raided all unseen The misty regions of my soul's demesne In search of you — If you only knew ! 16 Disillusion Faded the blossoms she sent; Lost is the fragrance that went Swift to my heart. . . . Slow beats the pulse that was pent, Laggard the winds are and spent; Voiceless — we part. f7 Jl>esterfca£ O, the way To the lost yesterday Lies as vague and as far As my dead hopes are — All the gibbering ghosts, The wan beckoning hosts! O, the way To the lost yesterday You can find if you go Where the hot winds blow By the parched rose-tree Near the sun-rimmed sea. O, the way To the lost yesterday I have traveled in vain; But run ne'er again Be the guerdon or crown Or tryst of thistle-down! O, the way To the lost yesterday You may take if you choose But to take is to lose, For I know all the play On the road to yesterday. 18 IRobtn, 1f /llMss TTbee Blithe Robin, I miss thee! Sweet was thy song, Vibrant and shrill that ravished the hill Of thy summer all the day long. Art fled to the Southland deep in the sun, Trilling again with haughty disdain, With no mind to thy notes as they run? But soon thou wilt come, and, boding no fear, Sing for thy soul with the Spring as thy goal, Waking worlds with thy orison clear. 19 Can 1f foxQctf A time when sank the sun Into the dusk, you did forget My love — you did forget. The clouds were lowering, dun — The sun had set, your love had set, Your love for me had set. And when the night had run, The morn whispered I should forget- But, dear, can I forget? O fadeless hour that first I trembling drew Thee to my breast, and at thy breathing knew Thou lovedst me. Dear Memory, the day Is gone and yet 'tis here heart-held alway. A thousand thousand ages, Love, may pass And yet the light of eyes — O lovely lass — Rare azure eyes, shall lead me on to dare Dim heights the whither all true lovers fare. Dear, shall we not love on and on through aeons And aeons, and harken to the happy paeans And pastorals of all the spirit-clan Who sing together as immortals can? Ah, we shall see the star-dust fall and hear The chimes of spheres thrice seven. . . . Draw thou near Sweetheart, nor leave me for a little space; 'T is dark beyond the pale of thy pure face. Hlong tbe IRtvec ZlDarae There were cherry blossoms all a-blowing By the fragrant river-side; A myriad eyes were glowing, Radiant, joyous, glorified — Or vaguely, sweetly mystified — In the dear and dusky eventide. O'er the greening hill the lowing Cattle wander home, While the silent slowing River, ever onward flowing, Laughs a little when there come Splashing feet to stay its going. . . . O the summer-tide is strewing All the world with garlands bright Against the coming of the Night. 1f Sball IRot flIMnfc Blow, blow thou winter's wind, I shall not mind Thy ravings, hoarse and chill Ay tho' they be; they fill Me nor again with fear, Nor bodings drear, Nor melancholy's spite. In sooth, the balm's strange might And vague oblivion At last have done To death the thoughts that filled This soul of mine, and chilled For aye the pulse of life. Nor drum, nor fife, Nor air, nor voice, nor lute Can rouse these chords that mute Await some dawning day To thrill as they Were wont to do in times Long past, when she sang rhymes That breathed of love Elysian. — O heavenly vision! Blow, blow, thou winter's wind And moan — I shall not mind. 23 %ullab£ The mists are blown away, And the clouds of gray Are fading far in the West: — Sleep my Love, sleep my Love, Heaven looks down from above On thy rest. Tis spent the latest ray That marks the line of day Athwart the goal of the West Sleep my Love, sleep my Love, The angels are whispering above Thou art blest. 24 fll>S Star "All that I know of a certain star" That hangs in splendor where the heavens bar Retreating day in dazzling white, Leading hence the hosts of night To reel and fly as the hours die;. — "All that I know of a certain star" That burns like glory where the angels are, Is that my heart proclaims that she Is light of vast eternity, — By night, by day — a star alway. 25 Can 1ft Be Xove? I know not what lies yonder near the night, Trembling in the iridescent rainbow-light — Can it be love? I know not what sings by the gate of day, In radiant raiment — rose-crowned roundelay- Can it be love? 26 Bll in /ii>s GarfcenHPiace i On yesternight I saw uprise A tender bud with wistful eyes — By magic in my garden-place It grew, and lo, its blossom face ! How sweet and innocent, how fair, How honey-pure, how unaware Of mortal touch ; and that dear look All dimpled as an eddying brook. II Was it a glance, a fragrant touch, Or breeze that lingered over-much Against her cheek that wrought the blight ? Pale are the eyes once dark as night ! Why linger now, the spell is spent And all the glamour 's gone that lent Her grace and beauty none compare. . . . How cold doth cling the garden air. -7 Oh, this mountain side is glorious, If you care to stray awhile, For the spring reigns thrice victorious- Flowers, flowers many a mile! Lo the pansy's piebald hood Nods and nods with many a sigh, For morning breathes along the wood, Waking every sleeping eye. And the daisies at my feet Peep with modest eyes demure, And startled violets, blithe and sweet, Round the runnel open bluer. Winecup bowls are crimson-red, Swaying high in joyous glow — A bumper full to winter dead, A toast for all the summer show. 2% Tvc Seen Zftv fface There is no choice — I gaze and gaze at the eastern skies, Where lies the blue of thy beauteous eyes — I've seen thy face and heard thy voice. There is no choice But love thee, love thee, love thee true, And bind the sheaves as thou bid'st me do — I've seen thy face and heard thy voice. 29 So Strange tbe Xtgbt The eve draws down, the daylight dies. And over earth a stillness lies As on that awful day when fell The dark ! — Does it come again the spell Of blindness stealing softly through A noon of dream — a noon anew Dim-lit by eyes that once ashine Struck altars in this heart of mine? So strange the light in this day-dark, So thick the way I cannot mark My course that's set with many a trace And vision fair of her lost face. 30 1Rememberin0 an Hscent of Popocatepetl O sing to me again As you sang on that day — As you sing alway — O breath of the shivering pine, heart of the wild, wild wood — Strike louder the swelling refrain, Thunder the walls of thy white domain! Gray mountain so hoar and sublime — On whose crown rests the snow Fallen like a mask long ago, — Fallen low, fallen low, From heaven's gray dome — Flash but again to mine eye; Bend all thy blue, burnished sky, And I were young as the day 1 clambered scarce breathing and cold Thy deep forest side and thy helmet of snow ! O mortal, or angel, or both, Or who hath my soul in charge, Hear! once again ere I go Swift through the valley of death, Let the high-sweeping wind Blow its frost-crystaled breath O'er the cataract-fountain Through the pines on the mountain, And sing to my soul as it sang to me then — As it sang to me then. 31 Urutb Thy voice to me is dear as spirit songs Of angels playing at the dawn in throngs Along the eastern battlemented height Of Joy, where only thou dost reign with light. Thy face to me a heaven is of stars In field celestial, whence the bars Of life are dropped for one to see That heaven is truth and truth eternity. 32 lPalma And Palma chose him for her minstrel, . . . Sordello, whom Anon they laid within that old font-tomb. — Browning Maid, thou with eyes mysterious and dark With blue, and brow like Pieta's, and locks No child of Lombardy's could vie — list: Rocks Not still that mazy wood its branches? — hark, Doth not its whisper thrill old Goito stark And hoar ? No more the orpine patch ? No docks I' the familiar fields? What is it mocks Thee bending o'er that font-tomb's silent mark? He rests, for Heaven's balm doth soothe his soul. And thou? — ah, thou with eyes all stained and hair Unbound dost come at even's mournful toll To weep beside the martyred maids that bare Their hearts in marble penance — to weep for him Who loved that spot a-stir with spirits dim. 33 Ube /ifcocMnabfrfc at /iDt^niabt Yester I heard a voice at the night-deep hour- A note that rose upon the stifling tide Of heat, and windless, nigh the moon Till falling earthward in a swoon Of ecstasy and sweet delirium, It trembled in the tree-top's canopy, A moment clung, then faded utterly. 34 Consolation To wake and see th' undimming dawn And hear the lute of light In triumph at the daemons gone Adrift upon the night — To lure myself with languid verse The lanes of life among; To lift myself beyond the curse On the wide wings of song! 35 /i&etamorpbosts I feel the first faint breath of Autumn, dear; Slow steals it o'er the hills, across the vale And on and on, voicing its tongueless tale Of pathos strange and wild. With naught of fear The flowers lift their darling heads to cheer All mindless of the forest's weary wail That eddies round. . . . Why art so sad and pale? Awake, for lo the winter-night is near. And thou shalt dream. But when thine eyes again Ope wide to day, the glamour's gone — and they Shall glance a metamorphosed world; the rain Has sullied, the wind has frayed the petals gay And moans among the littered leaves that fly Distraught to lie where you and I must lie. 36 Sbail 1T mot 1bope? Above the shivering trees in yonder grove The snow is whirling dumb in its dismay; Beyond the flying clouds of freezing gray The waves are wailing loud along the cove ; And round thy heart the dismal day hath wove A night where fearful phantasies delay The words I wait impatient but alway. — Shall I not hope that truly thou wilt love? Some morn the dawn will drowse the eastern wold, And sunny life go bounding free again; White, whitening buds will burst and bur- geoning spring Blow every spray: — ah, then I'll know the gold At thy heart's core has run, and that the reign Of kings on earth is at its welcoming. 37 Uhc Secret of H)our Being He said that you were mortal, that your soul was of the dust, That the radiance of your beauty was a thing that would outrust; And I rose in earnest anger and I cursed the falsifier, While I stammered half-unknowing that there lies a region higher. . . . Do you blame me for my temper, I who love you, love you so, For I know you are of heaven; — do you ask me how I know? It is futile to upbraid me ; not a word I'll answer you — Lo, the secret of your being burns beyond the nether blue. They whisper I am dreaming, that a phantasy of mind Mocks the inner-seeing Vision, that I grope about as blind. But I know the you I'm loving lives beyond all human ken, That the hands I now am holding will reach back to earth again. 38 If you go before me, Mary, you will surely not forget ; So I'll let them laugh and mock me — I shall bide with no regret. Let them whisper I am dreaming ; let me dream, for I would rest; Take my hands and hold them closer — see, the sun is in the west. 39 Cor CorMum So there my letters all in ashes lie Awaiting some gray gust of time to fly Some whither, then to rise not ever again. . . . The gods forgive; you never knew the pain Nor dared to think what never-ending crimes You wrought when danced the flames through all my rhymes That raced with the best blood of one that loved — Whose every sun-lit word and action proved A steadfast love ! . . . Far as the east and west Upfly the ashes of my heart — the test Of fire has burned into the very core Of one who dreams, of one who weeps, no more. 40 TKflttbout XTbee Art gone in truth, or does my mind Belie, or am I come too blind With gazing at thee as the sun? Thy image 'twas that waked my song That urged me all the days along — Dear days of dreams how shortly done ! Without thee how can I live on, How do, how dare, the spirit gone To come not any morning more? My life will cease like a dull spark And all the quick resolving dark Reclaim my heart burned to the core. 41 ©n tbe /l&ountatns ©\>erloofeing ZlDexico Tonight I see the moonlight on thy mountains, Mexico, And the grayish mists thy marshes breathe, Mists that sweep moist-winged The dimming heights cast up to guard thee When all the nights were still And no man wept. Cast up in a moment? Ah, who knows or cares for that? To him who wandered round The ridged rim that skirts thy valley, When yet the day was new, What meaning spake these awful sentinels ? . . . Methinks he knew in that far time of woe, And plague, and blind enduring evil, Mexico. Far down I see thy fading lights Melt in a pale unearthly glow ; And know the pulse of thy great heart Throbs faster, faster, Mexico. And in thy widening veins What scarlet-stained blood Of poisoned generations ! . . . Lo! the moonlight's on thy crest, And the night's fold drops all Snugly round thee; 42 And the silent, ceaseless flow Of drowsing time fills up thy cup — O Mexico — And mine. — Thou dost not murmur, yet This saddened heart of mine bemoans, I know not why, . . . but rest thou now And I would dream — alas, in vain. 43 Wovcx at Dawn Hail mighty Albion's cliff of massy white, And Dover drowsing lifeless at thy feet! Full many centuries has England's seat Been sentineled by thee: upon thy height The fires of hope, alarm, — by day, by night — Have burned their beacons : — lo ! the Con- queror's fleet; Or woe the proud Armada's thousand sheet, Or list, Napoleon's thundering guns affright ! Adieu, pale cliff — the morn advances high — Thou awe-inspiring guardian 'gainst all foes ! Were England steadfast, true, as thou, the world Would fail ere spoilsmen sprang with martial cry To seize the land — would pass with all its shows To nothingness, thy glorious banner furled. 44 •fff Uhoxx Sboulfcst Come IRot Ever Hgatn I call to thee across the wilds that pen Thee in — this city- jungle rent of men — In vain I call in spirit-tones apace, But comes no answer hence from out the space; Only sounds the din of clanging cars, Or drumming hoof on pavement; even the stars Are gone : no thing doth heed my words too rife With love's lorn messages, too red of life. If thou shouldst come not ever again to me To bid me live, the sacred walls to thee Shall breathe my love — then break no silence more. . . . How void the world since thou hast passed my door. 45 @ut of tbe past Lo we talked of golden themes 'Neath the starlight's silken gleams, Drifting where the many streams Of life unite: And the river to the sea, Murmured low to Love and me: "Love thy love, life's swift of flight." Softly flew the mindless hours, Fools we left Love's luring bowers, Passed unplucked the fragrant flowers Upon the shore. So the gift divine was lost — Youth and love ! . . . All demon-crossed Seas surge round us evermore. 46 Sbe fttever IKnew count it not to her ; — she never knew My day-star rose and set within her eyes: Nor ever dreamed my soul in voiceless cries Pined for her love. And yet the long year through 1 saw her — fair as a wondrous rose that grew Serene in the sweet wood, kissed by the dew, Swayed by the wind, touched by the flame that lies Along the dawn — radiant under the skies. Anon the winter came to frost my flower Fresh chapleted with love. Portentous hour ! How drear and desolate are all the days Since she sleeps yonder where the dark clouds lower To lace their light'nings with the sun's last rays, And where my heart is lost in life's thick haze. 47 Ubrougb tbe Dale FIRST VOICE Lament not he died, Child of thy heart; woe betide If thou mourn'st as the winds Through an arch which the ivy upbinds. SECOND VOICE Am I a bride or a sprite? Do I dream, do I hear With the heart over-near, Do you speak me outright? FIRST VOICE Forget thou hast cried Where the frail poppies blow all purple- eyed O'er his grave Where the lilacs wave. SECOND VOICE As a bride Of the realm of the flowers I shall bide And my guardian Hours For dear love shall stay near For my sake and for his, and the clear Blue of sky shall bluer be still And all of the Shadows shall linger at will To answer the dream When it breaks at the Gleam. . . . 4 8 FIRST VOICE What's the worth of a tear Or the leaf of a year That is spent? SECOND VOICE Nay the worth of a tear That is spent Or the leaf of a year That is sent On the wind to the west Is as gold from the test Of the fire. I aspire To mount upward and on Until our souls in the dawn Shall unite and remember how fair Was our vale over there. Let me weep For my soul from the deep Presses on for the leap Past the barrier steep Where the stars dark the Space That is lit by the light of His face. 49 /l&emories XTbree A silver silver moon, Across the dome a cloud that clears apace, And all the midnight filled with starry grace. A rose asleep at noon, Wind-worried, drooping for a drowsy space, And on the grass the fragrant petal's trace. And One that went too soon, All fain of life's lost, headlong, heedless race — Abides with me the memory of a face. 5<> Bfcrift Ah, love is wrecked and gone adrift — I see upon the torturing lift Of fitful, false, unmindful ocean Golden braids swim slow in motion, Swept athwart the spirit-grace Of eyes and cheeks and lips . . . dear face. . . . Wan eyes that move no more the stars To lend their lusters for the wars Of love; fair cheeks that blanched the rose; Sweet lips that now so mute upclose Forsaken of the lyric joy; and hair Of gold, so golden with the snare Of life! ... I lean upon the land And trace a name deep in the sand. Uo IDenus Venus, slow descending, In thy flight I read a page As wide as time's unending; The doom of things in every age Is blazoned in thy starry light. Oh, to be quite Like such a glory-spot — To sink in utter radiance Like a dazzling blot In night's deep robe, to dance From one dark aeon to another — Venus, to be as thou, eternal mother! 52 ZTbe Xees in an Xllnfcrainefc Bowl O a minor chord 's astir in my heart — Love lost, love lost — Sings ever of her with a poignant start. Tis the theme of an hour that once unrolled- Love crossed, love crossed — Sings on and on through the ages old. And a song of sin 't will sound in my soul — Storm tossed, storm tossed — Because of the lees in an undrained bowl. 53 ©ut of tbe Dark an£> 1Rain Come, sing to me as you were wont to do . A time agone, agone — so long ago. Ah, I remember well the hour as though 'Twere yesterday, a tuneful angel, you Did steal into my heart to soothe, as dew A parched blossom's yearning stills — I know Tis many a silent hour, yet sing, e'en now, The lines I'm longing so to hear a-new. Sweetheart, I meant not that sad-toned refrain — Nay, sing again the words forever dear As thou ! For too much alway I am prone To linger lone and lorn against the pane, Striving out of the dark and rain to hear The note of hope I knew — so long unknown. 54 Sbe Xtes H5leep Wake ! but strike thy lute no more, For on the farthest Eden shore She lies asleep. So wake and weep, But strike thy singing lute no more. Calm, she sleeps as one bereft Of sorrows treasured from the theft Of robber time. See how sublime She rests, of sorrows all bereft. Peace, nor stay the stirring tear Beside her lorn and lonely bier; She soon will pass To dust — alas ! . . . What can avail a burning tear? Wake, but strike thy lute no more, For on the farthest Eden shore She lies asleep. So wake and weep, But strike thy singing lute no more. 55 Be profunbis O let me sleep Who ne'er again can weep. All throttling are the pains that leap The chasms of my heart, Whence scurrying hordes upstart, The brandishing dervish-thoughts, with dart And sword, and rumble of distant thunder ! What once was whole — this my soul — Is shattered, torn asunder, And all my dreams are buried under. Still, in its sacred place 1 grope to find the trace Of a once-loved face. All else has gone awrack On this my life's white track Of washing sand seashore, Where run the eddies evermore And running ever croon A sibyl-sounding rune Of one I still adore, Of one all faithless as the moon. O let me sleep, Ye keepers of the deep, And dream awhile — warm-housed By Silences — with lips all mute 56 That once were roused To riot by the blameless fire Of Love! Consumed by heart's desire, 'Twas I who dreamed that higher And higher we two should mount And call the very stars to make account Of Love's Elysian goal, Where sound the chants of soul to soul. O let me sleep Ye angels of the steep Incline of heaven, who never grieve, Nor grieving ne'er can tell When one doth languish in the lairs of hell! 57 Uo Sbellep Master of destiny, sun-girdler — thou Soarer beyond the last confine of space — Singer sublime : O pray thee deign, fair face, To look upon me but a moment now, For I would joyfully lay on thy brow The lyric's laurel wreath. In thy sweet grace, Immortal lover, let me find a place; For I, one of the humblest, come to bow Before thy sacred shrine where kneel the wise And brave and true. Thou wert so kind and just, With heaven, love, truth mirrored in thine eyes, Thou wilt not scorn — here will I wholly trust Till the pale Shadow steal with silent pall To stay my strivings and my anxious call. 58 Hn the Hfter*Xi0bt I know not how drag past the days, So loveless, lonely, are the ways I tread since She is fled my sight. But know I well the laggard feet That lead to where our paths shall meet Far out in some great afterlight. . . . 59 Cbaron O Charon, Charon! warder of that stream As dark as death, thy blear and sateless eye Gloats on the scene where soul on soul lies by, Awaiting thee to ferry them. I deem Thee one of bravest arm, yet one whose dream Must be a nightmare where the dead do fly In tattered shrouds, and call thee names and cry For Erebus to show them where the gleam Of suns unspoken lights the hills that rise In that drear land where Styx forever rolls. O Charon ! when my soul comes down and lies With thee afloat, hush thou the bell that tolls The muffled passing — let me rest and sleep Through mists and cold and deathless night's long keep. 60 Uo Spain Great land where breathed Iberian and Moor — That gave us lore and lost philosophies, And breed of men that bent on high emprise Woke wide the Western World — what swift allure Drew thee apart? — what holy zeal impure Belied thy soul and glozed with gloom thine eyes To blind the way thy sons were wont to prize ? — Canst tell why hast in all become so poor? Uprise ye ghosts of banished Saracen And Jew, marshal thy martyrs, Bolivar, And Cuba thine — these hiss the dolorous word: America nor knows nor shall again The flag that flouted the rights of men, that heard No peal of liberty blown from afar ! 61 Sleep an£> 5>eatb A longed-for silence still as primal death was mine. Asleep in some fair-flowered, starry cave — Free from the toils, the drag-nets and the brine Of tears and life's red-bruised grape (I crave No more), I dreamed, and all was peace; nor scorn, Nor contumely, the jagged lash which fate Had wielded ; silence, sleep were mine ; no morn Would rouse me from my dear and dreamful state. Alack, a time I did awake and found My prison cold and damp; and Death beside Me pressed my lids so close I cried aloud In bitterness for swift reprieve! Fast bound My limbs refused to stir. — Said Death : "Abide Awhile with me and Silence marble-browed." 62 Ube Hfceai I dreamed awhile and wrought the gossamers In filmy fabrics fit for her the one That rose for me the transcendental sun. She rose for me the very sun to lead The utmost way, to wake the world of night Wherein I groped ere blazed the sudden Light- The light that shines adown the drifting path That lies across the distant earth away — Wherein I walk and wait against a day. 63 ZTbe<*Xost Caravan It was a wild and wide expanse of sand — Bare, blazing sand; far-stretching, farther than The eye of mortal reacheth, or e'er can, It lay a dismal waste. A ghastly band Went straggling on : each with his withered hand Shut out the flaming day as on they ran In vain a lost mirage. Accursed ban To scorch beneath a sun where deserts, fanned By black simoon, rise high in air to blot The heavens out! With tongues distended, blank, Brown faces — earth and air and sky are not. Oblivion, dark as that by Lethe's bank, Now spreads apace ; for lo the last is spent, And lies where howl the winds a hoarse lament. 64 Since !2ou 1bav>e proven jfalse There is so little left Since you have proven false, I seem of all bereft. Of all bereft am I Since all I had I gave, My heart, which there doth lie- There mid the rose leaves crushed (The flowers I'd wrought for you) The songs forever hushed. 65 Ube Comtna of Hutumn Shrilly the cricket close in the grass Shivers that summer is dead; Wearily race the fallen leaf-throngs, Rustling that summer is fled ; Sad is the hum of the hurrying bee Gleaning the floweret shed; Faint is the note of the curlew's call Far in the dome overhead ; — The sun in the west capped over with cloud Shatters the sky with its red; The winds in the trees whisper woe, whis- per woe — And Echo is all trembling with dread. 66 Sbipwrecft Low surged the madding waves an eve, and fast The dusk and murky gloom closed in the day ; Dull, desolately, broke the chilling spray Along the deck ! The mists uprose, the blast Drave loud against the singing cords and mast A-quiver ; while above the dread dismay The demons roared and tore the sails away — White sails that once to wooing winds were cast. The night's black pall hung on th' remorseless air That swept the writhing sea, that whipped with cold The whitened whitecaps and the floating hair Of one too glorious for a story told, Of one whose fame a pearl endures for me, Who search in vain for her the shoreless sea. 67 /iDotes V tbe Sun O the dreams that we dream Are like motes in a gleam, A bare burnished beam O' the sun. (Motes i' the sun That glimmer and run Twixt the light And the night.) Twixt the light and the night, Lo the shadow, the might And the hastening flight To the sun! (Motes i' the sun That glimmer and run Twixt the light And the night.) Still we dream as we creep Through the cavernous deep Ere we take the long leap 'Neath the sun. (Motes i' the sun That glimmer and run Twixt the light And the night.) 68 We 're but dreams of a day, Then we pass like the spray On the wind — haste away Ere the sun. (Motes i' the sun That glimmer and run Twixt the light And the night.) 69 debacle This dark is so intense, the starless void So aching black, the world so unannoyed Of winds or any sound save the slow drip Of my heart's blood far on the outer rip Where runs my life's low tide in silence deep ! — ■ I long to lose me in abysmal sleep. Thy hand 'twas crushed the sun and smote the stars From space ; thy voice that raised th' iEolian bars Against the winds, that set the Echoes all A-rout; thy perfidy that reared the pall Where lies my heart entombed to rouse no more Until the dawn dart through the golden door. 70 XTbe Da^s of tbe Summer are H>eafc There's a ring in the air of the Autumn, child, For the days of the summer are dead ; And lo ! at thy feet and high o'er thy head Are the flying red hosts of the wilderness wild — The sighing dead ghosts of the wilderness, child. And the song that is sung is a requiem mass, For low, low down in the darkening grass Are the daisies and buttercups sleeping — alas ! — All breathless and silent. How golden the dawn When their spirits shall rouse along the dim lawn Of some dreamful Arcadian summer! Child, There's a ring in the air of the Autumn wild. 71 %ovc IResuraent I What is it that rouses the sleeping flower souls, And plants them aflame 'round the valleys and knolls, When the moist winds do blow? What is it that wakens the cardinal's chant And sets all the wilderness songsters apant — Is it spring with its show? The robin that late warmed his crest in the sun — Has he heard a far call and his journey begun With no thought of the snow? II To the slumbering seed-souls Love calleth aloud And they burst all ablaze their clay-sealing shroud — 'Tis the end of their woe. Love in the heart strings a harp in the throat! It tunes every line to an untutored note — O I know — O I know! As far as may be this world from the stars I can hear her soft voice and no tyranny bars, For I go — lo I go. 72 TEo tbe H>sin0 Century Morning found thee, mother, crying 'Midst the crumbled ruin of thrones And shattered chains and bleaching bones That gave us Liberty. Dusk-tide now, and thou art dying Broken-hearted at the boom Of guns that groan a sullen doom To dreams of Liberty. 73 OLafcaMo Ibearn Strange wilding from thy native hearthstone fled Adream toward the opal orient sun To keep a tryst with Faith and Beauty — Love : Hast fared with all thy glory-garlands trove Across th' Pacific sea Nirvana-ward; Lo, art with Buddha's sainted soulful dead! 74 H Msfon From the highest ebon peak of night, Brighter than the star-dust's prismed light, Burning through the intervening gloom A single face of glory fills mine eyes With radiance like to that when the last doom Shall echo round the stricken, silent skies. 75 1Fn tbe^Barfe It is so dreary playing in the dark, With only little lamps of hope to light The mazes of the way. I am so weary staying in the dark, The flicker of the slender candles quite Obliterates the day. . . . I wait for Mary, straying in the dark, And shall until the gods in full requite And put the lamps away. 76 DEC 22 1910 One copy del. to Cat. Div. 19ih ■ili*, 015 909 1 ^JLJ| ■it