Class! Book. Copyright N°__ 0% COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. % 0 K X The Bronco- Buster The Coyote The Stormy Petrel Port Arthur Above the Forest Fire Ham ague hi The New Day Song of the Rain Drops Drop by Drop To a Pupil in Art Beauty for Ashes The Poet's Mind The Bridegroom Cometh The Dawn of the New Year Vita Nouva Easter Choristers Primavera School Bells The Flight of the Children JuBt from Heaven To a Child who Loved Birds Harbingers of Spring California Mocking Birds Meadow Larks The Song Sparrow The Blackbird The Snow Bird Song of the Linnets Humming Bird The Emerald Lizard Emerald Gauze Fly Bright Diamond Sapphire Stone The Ruby Topaz The Opal The Emerald The Day of Jewels Stars Watch Night February Thaws Indian Summer Autumn's Sighing Twilight Psalm The White Rose and the Red The Highest Call Experience and Culture The Road to the Evening Star The Singer Au Revoir DEDICATED T<> /lfcartba*<3abrtelle (IN heavbn) X loved her when her cheek was fair in May, And when her heart was budded to its prime ; I loved her in that tender elder day. When softened was her hair with silver rime. I loved her when Spring blossoms burst to bloom, And when the fruit had ripened in the sun ; I loved through hours of joy, and hours of gloom ; And when the precious sands of Earth had run. I loved her when she lay upon my breast And when she slept so calm serene and still Beside God's humble flowerets — at rest — Within the circling bosom of the hill. I love her now, exalted, free, and far, Within that Boundless Being of the Whole ! I love her as she sings from star to star Encompassing my spirit — soul in soul! Invocation X string no lyre to Pride or Power, To Strife or Fate, But string ray hymnals of an hour — The meek — not great ! The morning madrigals of Love ! The bliss of Vision ! The thrush song in the throbbing grove ! Earth's human Heaven! The sower's lay at break of day As forth he goes; When larks sing to pink-lip'd Spring — And blooms the rose ! Under the leaves Earth's bosom heaves; He drinks his fill ! Till the full rose and the harvest goes — And the vear is still ! My Southern Nightingale X heard thy tender voice, sweet Love, That called erstwhile, across the void ; It dropped — like moonlight — from above When faith and hope were nigh destroyed : It came and settled like a balm Within my bosom — still and calm. The world has proved too rude and wild, Too brutal far for birds of peace ; Too dank and bleak for Nature's child, And almost made fond Love to cease ! But thy sweet notes awoke the air And bade me banish all despair ! The days had grown too sad for me ! I loved the long nights deep and clear When stars drooped down and came so near ! Then love sang low, and rich and free ! — I know the fragrance of the year ! — I keep thy voice — in heart and ear ! Southern Nightingales Of all the strains of music They trill who flood with song The summer days till evening, Or midnights rich and long, There is no bird so plaintive, Nor yet so wild and gay, As Southern mocking-bird, so sweet When moons are up — they say. My heart knows well that music! I've dreamed it — O so long! I heard it in my slumbers, It filled my soul with song ! 'Twas crushed — 'twas killed within me By northern cage and bars ! But still 'tis in my moonlight ! — ' Tig singing in my star*/ Th« Spirit's Hour ^y mocking bird, full oft, in vesper twilight still, Croons in a low refrain, to south winds soughing by; And tunes his glowing throat to echo back each trill Of far off fading notes, from warblers in the sky. When every murmuring chord has sunk beneath my reach He sits, alert there still, himself the sound to teach. So with that "Still Small Voice" that broods o'er poet soul, So sacred sweet and low — mysteriously shy ! Ye cannot catch its call, nor hear the chariot roll When fanning seraph wings and thundering hosts goby, Except in holy tryst ye wait— nor deaf nor blind — Like weird ^Eolian harp wooed by the whispering wind. Then breathe the mystic spells that haunted Orlean's maid; The trump that summoned Troy ; the Sibyl leaves for Rome I Then drops the Manna Dew ; then breaks the Magic Bread, While thousand souls are fed that to the master come ! Then John on patmos hears— then Paul by wayside sees The heavenly Light-of-Life, while fainting to their knees ! 10 Christ-Tide Eond friend, accept these Christmas lines from me, Borne on the gentle wings of modest minstrelsy. For Love is like the ever-verdant pine More fresh and deathless as the days decline. See how serene and peacefully it stands. Made all the fairer by the whitening lands. Look ! Dost thou watch the winter solstice grow ; Orion's diamonds gleam— the Pleiad tapers glow; The shimmering moon mount through her mystic skies Leading the beacon lights of Paradise ? Hush ! Dost thou note how every crystal rill Each pearly brook, each limpid lake, lies still? Each blithesome bird, each flower in forest glade? And over Earth her snowy mantle laid ! Hark ! Hear it burst— the chime of Christmas bells ! O'er mistletoe and holly seraphs breathe their spells ! He comes ! with love aglow and pity warm ; A million cherub hearts cling to his holy arm ! 'Tis Love that lives and reigns with Life Divine ! All hearts are one tonight— so mine with thine ! His Time X asked the good Lord, frankly, To grant me once a prayer. He seemed to keep it from me — I swooned in blank despair ! The night lay dank about me, The shades were tightly drawn, I woke— and cast them from me! The gift was there— by dawn ! Damascus ("Not disobedient to the Heavenly Vision." Bible.) eACH soul, upon the path of life, beholds A Revelation ! And the fair "Beulah Land" unfolds To each one's station. The sacred Spirit comes, with thrilling voice, And lo — a Vision ! Then is the hour of holy choice — Decision ! Faint soul of man, by mystic angels led, Obedient be, and ready ! So, safely, bravely by the Master led, March steady ! Thus shall thy way of joy grow strong In full endeavor; And thy bright path through Heaven prolong — Forever 1 Wind ows Horoet not thou O man ! that, like the rose, The lily also in the garden grows ; The crocus springs ; the cowslip bursts to bloom, Wherever God appointeth it its room. So many Windows are they, whence His Spirit bright May reach the earth and radiate His Light ! Thyself art one — thy soul a messenger! Upon this speeding star — a passenger! TK« Magi ^jhe magi came at Christmas Tide, ^-' Into the night, with gifts resplendent ! Coursers, camels, robes of pride, Wealth of satellites dependent. They came with pomp, they came from far And followed fast — the "Morning" Star! Lo ! in a cradle made of hay A monarch from the heavens lay. Was it a king, in glory dight? No ! 'was a Child — in pink and white ! It, too, had travelled alone, from far, And came in the arms of the "Evening" Star! Which of the twain shall we worship most? The star with the train and the splendid host? The star of Triumph, the star of Power? — Or the star that twinkles at twilight hour, The Love Star tender? Now watch and see: It w the Magi that bend the knee! Ah! splendors of wisdom, pride and wealth; Glories of genius, knowledge, health; Powers of busy brain and feet; All of the treasures of earth complete ; Spirit of Beauty and Love ! at laat, At thy sacred feet, all crowns are cast ! in Stronger than Death Orift winter winds ! Drive chilling frosts ! The strength of love is what it costs. The strain we bear for our Ideal Is that which proves us true and real ! For Love is not that fleeting name Feeding itself on Passion's flame; But that serene, celestial Fire In which our baser selves expire ! It is the pure unsullied snow That journieth where the winds blow. It cometh — whence ? It goeth — whither ? Ah !'tis a shaft from God's own quiver ! Its wing is wide — its flight is long; A ud deathless is its Death Song! Arma Virumque *»*ho is the hero? Not the brave ^*J Who on the field of glory sleep; Immortal banners o'er them wave And the proud states their vigils keep ! Who is the hero? 'Tis the slave For whom the gentle angels weep ; Who toiling onward to the grave Has but his tryst with God to keep ! Who is the hero? 'Tis the weak ! The martyrs, prophets, poets, seers Who, through the long nights dark and bleak, Watch— till the Lord-of Life appears! Fcste-Burg ("Hfivlng done nil -stand." Hibie.) Che long brave battle is complete! Our rugged veterans have swept the hill! About are faint and fallen at our feet And the loud clarion halts us — "Still!" The Truth has vanquished and the sullen foe Has struck his colors and surrendered sword! The terms God grants him, tho' we may not know : "Be still and patient!" is the Captain's word. Strong" sunlight sweeps the war fog from the crest; Soft breezes fan each pained or fevered brow; Our swords in scabbard, and our arms at rest; "Halt! and take respite" — is the order now. So sweet the ministries that angels bring, And bright the garlands gathered at the gate! Dost thou not hear the prophets and the martyrs sing : "They also serve who only stand and wait"? Soldiers of Truth — thy mighty battle done — Rest now, in patience on His Promised Word ; Thy warfare ended, and thy victory won. Stand still — and see The Victory of God ! Success v«5^o this great Truth, O Son! for aye take heed! ^-' "Success" is in the Doing — not the Deed! Do well thy task; and give each hour's concern Not to the praise — but to the Truth you learn? Guide thou thy hands — not to the lure of gold — But to the P Older for Excellence they hold; The Seeds of Beauty, Truth, and Good they cast ! The SouVs eternal Triumphs ! These shall last ! Saint Valentine j^rue deathless Love is not V-/ That breeze that comes and goes, Nor is it that faint fragrance That fadeth from the rose. Nor is it that still beauty That haunts the pearly shell ; Nor soft and trembling music — So sweet — that there doth dwell. Ah me ! It is that Something That grows within a seed ; That struggles up to Beauty, To Fragrance, Music, Deed ! Still in those roots 'tis living ! 'Tis slumbering in the shade ! It cannot pass nor perish ! For not by Earth 'twas made! Gay or Grave Xaskfd her: "In Love, is Life playful? Or is it profound (as to me)? — The foam with the sunlight of day, full ? Or deep like the depths of the sea?" She smiled as she answered me slowly, With voice that was tender and low, With deep eyes so vast and so holy : "If you feel it —I think you will know." Then I looked in my heart and I found it ! At morn it was blithe like the light ; But at evening when twilight surrounds it 'Tis richer and deeper than night ! Constancy mhere thou goest I would go ! vi/ With the rise or fall of tide, In the ebbing or the flow, Where thou bidest I'd abide ! Nothing other would I know, Over earth or under sea ; Nothing that the world can show Would I share apart from thee ! On thy breast my heart would lean In thine arms — beside thy cheek Nothing half so dear hath been, Bravely true and tender meek ! Oh, Beloved, I am thine, Though the stars fall from their skies ! All the constellations shine In the vortex of thine eyes ! When the angel choirs ring And the trump of God shall call, To thy heaven my spirit bring ! Be my Eden— all in all ! Spiritual Comradeship /SfwEET friend, so fair, serene and pure, K-J I turn to thee as toward my compass sure, Not with the flickering flame of vain desire But for the soul's deep fountains to inspire ! I dare not covet — As with evening star I watch, I wonder, and I worship — from afar; TK? Victor Cell me what is brave and strong In Life's battle task so long ! Is it hidden deep in history? May the seer discern its mystery? It is not the lion tawny, Nor cold glinting Croesus money ! Croesus and his hoard have perished ; All he grasped and saved and cherished ; And the lion in the wild, Slaughtered fell by dart of child ! I will tell you what is strong : He that watcheth all night long By the bed of loved and lost ; Counteth all that love hath cost — As the death damp settles o'er it, And the heart hath broke before it, And the pale lips pant and quiver By the dark bank of Death's river ! Shall I tell you what is brave ? 'Tis to stand beside the grave Of a Hope forever thwarted' Of a Joy forever slaughtered ; But to stand and battle on 'Till the victory is won ! Go and find me now a monster From the jungle or the mountain ; I will find you some sweet songster, And the laugh of gurgling fountain ! But the monster's name shall perish, And his bones shall deck the mountain ; Yet the Songster — God shall cherish ! Ant the Earth shall guard the Fountain ! Bring rue now a mighty warrior Who hath slaughtered many a f oeman ; Time shall chain him in its barrier, And the stars shall blight his omen ! They shall chase him in their courses — Sizera fled, with all his horses; And Beltshazzar at the feast Saw his power and pride had ceased ! Do you think the Christ was weak When he stood so wan and meek Struck by blow of brutal soldier? Tell me, pray, which man was bolder, He who struck — or he who stood For the Victory of the Good? Do you think that Love is best Slumbering on its idol's breast When the night lamp glinteth low And the heartbeat pulseth so? When the curtain's softly drawn 'Till the purling of the dawn? No ! That Love is deeper, stronger, That must ever onward wander ; Knowing well its wealth of rapture Is too choice for time to capture ! It is tender — it is meek, And its voice too low to speak — But it scaleth Heaven's wall At the Trump-of-GabriePs call ! There, within celestial chalice, Far from sorrow, pain or malice, Free from worldly blight or stain, Thou shalt find such Love again ; All that wealth of Passion tender Robed in angel forms so slender; — Where the seraph choirs are pure, And the Peace-of-God is sure! G Garlands ("Decoration Day") he gathered garlands deck the soil Which mark the hero's strife and toil. From Marathon to Waterloo There's ever some brave deed to do! Be it the mother, at the birth, Bringing some new soul down to earth; Or weary father, at the plow, While anxious furrows sear his brow; Some brother, plunging in to save Some sister from a watery grave; Some sister sewing long and late To help some brother to grow great! How shall we measure "hero" blood Which bears the brunt for human good? There is no limit, standard, bourne To the brave lives for whom we mourn! Save that one limit — "what we can!" Save that one standard — "perfect man!" The hero springs at Heaven's call — He does Utmost— that is "AM" X Precaution met a lady fair, one springtime day, I looked — she said: "You'd better look away!" I looked again — with eyes too 'tranced to part; She smiled — serene — then gently broke my heart! 20 Winter Stars *~|^r is the frosty night -*-» When, clear and strong and bright, There bursts the Christ Tide strain Above the year's dull pain, And tells of Love Far, far above The sobbing rain! I wander, lone and still, Into the evening chill, Upon the mountain side; And watch this Christmas tide Descend again To suffering men That here abide. Enwrapt in sad surprise I glance, with glistening eyes! The stars seem low and near, Brightening with influence clear; Streaming — so pure — So strong and sure — As though to chide my fear! They know my heart's lone cry Lest with Love's wounds I die! Spirits of God they seem Parting the night's blue dream With candelabra rays Heralding heavenly days Through golden gates that stream! O, Life Divine, complete! Hasten with eager feet, My soul to heal! See — 'neath Thy stars I kneel! My battle won, — My Passion crown! My Victory seal! The Full Moon and the Bird a pon my evening porch when south winds sigh and fan, "Mid honeysuckle vines, I watch the full moon rise; Fair Nature's great gold heart — whose veins bright liquid ran With love and life aflame, when first she spanned the skies! Ah me — what molten tide, with Passion's bliss aglow, That swims and sways and throbs in Love's deep undertow! My heart toward her doth melt, whose ringers twine my hand With quiet pressures kind — yet need we never speak! Forth from my latticed shade, our chorister so grand — Our mockingbird — doth pour, pure from his bub- ling beak, A strain so rich and free — so ecstasy inspired — Each L heart has told its tale, and heard what it desired ! Full well the nightfays know, with woodlore wise and wild, The secret these two tell- the Full moon and the Bird! The moon's my own full heart, by Love's sweet ways beguiled. The "Bird" — ah that's my Bride — whose Song of Life I heard! Soft, low and deep, indeed! then bursting light with joys Bright, tripping, rippling, rich — her witchery employs! 22 Sparkl es «\y Love and I are "sparking" >*^ Amid the garden flowers, To happy mischiefs harking — So gay the sunlit hours! O Life, that made the zephyrs So wanton and so sweet, The ewe lambs and the heifers So light of playful feet : The birds so full of love song, The butterflies of glow ; The roses blush, the day long, With Passion — Thou dost know ! Ah ! Maker of Life's longings, Hast Thou a playful Heart? And dost Thou joy in joining Two lovers long apart? The Diamond ^jhey tell me of a diamond V-' They found in dust and sand Its luster ever brilliant, Its glories ever grand! It was the light of Beauty — Between the atoms frail! It was the Star of Duty — Whose splendors never pale! It was the Flame of Goodness — Whose grace filled all the room! It was the Torch of Genius — That banished all the gloom! Commanded rwas the breach of battle — and the cry, Rose like a wall of agony: "They fly !" The first battallion — over the right — My bravest men ! — All night They've held, alone, that hill ! Great God ! but for one hour still 'Till daylight come, and aid ! Hark ! there, I hear the drum ! — afraid? What, every one? — to go Across the valley, in the teeth of that fierce foe —and tell? Oh, some one must, though it be through the mouth of hell ! Here ! drummer boy ! you're fleet; Lighter than stags your feet ; Drop drum and all ! Haste to that wall ! And cry To the brave men on high : "Help is at hand, Only stand!" Fleet as a deer — fast he bounds ! Shot at and pierced through with wounds ; Blood stained his fair boyish hair ; Fallen ! twice ! thrice ! but he's there, And they hold with a cheer ! Hard pressed, worn down, but grim With the bright news from him ! And when our fresh troops sweep Over the foe — up the steep — And the great fight was won ; When all was told and done ; There on the blood stained grass, In a sleep shat shall never pass, Lay our boy — lay our pride ! And our tears though we hide, Still I can see, now, How the troops kissed his brow, As the colonel's own voice said the prayer Which had cried that "command" of despair ! As we laid the frail corpse to its rest. Taking tokens for those he loved best, "Mother's Bible" we found on his breast! Then the sods fell — and choked was our breath ; And we wrote over: — "Faithful till Death 1" Boanerges ("] answered thee in the secret place of thunder."— Bible.) D he forces of God's Word Are hidden with the Lord : From the shades of his pavillions Doth he watch and ward the millions Of his host. Of all those ranks resplendent, And the trusts on Him dependent, None are lost ! Oh, wounded for his cause! Dost though tremble, then, and pause? Oh, souls so full of sorrow And anxious for the morrow Of his Sun! 'Mid the mystery and wonder, From His "Secret Place of Thunder" It is done.' Freedom now shall we sing Great Freedom's song That mareheth on through ages long, Her feet all scarred with shard and thorn, Her back bent by the burdens borne? What star is this upon Her brow? — A gleam that yearns All Truth to know! What song is ringing in her ears? — It is the Music of the Spheres! What pulse that fills her mighty Soul? — A Mother's Heart that loves the Whole! What Ephod, shot with glittering gems, Shines vast between Her shoulder hems? — These are the kindly gracious Arts By which man grows his noblest parts. What Girdle this, so broad and good? — It is the Band of Brotherhood!" What golden cords and silver line — Enrap Her loins — Her garments twine? They're Duty, Courage, Faith and Prayer, And Hope triumphant o'er despair, And Zeal that spreads the flame of Love 'Till every tyrant shackle's clove: And Pity bending in the dust And bearing scorn (where'er she must) To lift, to lighten, to reveal, And from that dust to God appeal! This is Her Form — so grand and free — That mareheth on to destiny ! This is The Mother of us all, And this is God-born Liberty! The Victory of Trehton (Anniversary) nAHx! The beat of muffled drum! Ragged veterans — straining fast! Starved and bleeding — lo! they come^ Frozen by the wintry (blast! What is poverty or shame. Shock, privation, wounds or fear? Lo! their hearts are all aflame — Human Liberty is near! Hounded by a despot lord, Pounded by the river's ice, "Fatherland" is still their word; Priceless Freedom still their choice! What is this we see today Through the land where thus they bled: Subtler tyrants still seek sway, Sleek Corruption rears its head! Hush the march, and still the trump! Mock them not with brazen blare; Purge the ballot and the stump; Save the Nation — ye who dare' Boast not of your patriot sires, Of the blood they shed in vain, While ye quench their sacred fires, And your birthright sell "for gain!*" Who will fight as once they fought — Suffer loss and scorn and shame, That our land shall not be "bought,'* Not their Freedom fade — a "name?'" John Brown's Grave (North Elba, Adirondack Mountains, N. Y.) a fierce wild cry against the night! A shot — a halter — and a grave! Here lies the lion in his broken might; There mounts the unshackeled human slave! Still now, and safe from every tyrant foe, Upon God's uplands, — hush — he sleeps in peace! The stern grand mountains, in their purest snow, Guard like grim wardens — until warefares cease. The murmuring forests with their mighty moan; The lone shrill eagle 'mid the storm swept skies; The age carved boulder of primaeval stone; Watch where the old saint's bruised body lies. Hark! from the eagle upon widespread wing, I hear that shrill scream, ever and anon! Here by the sad grave humble birdlets sing; There the Great "Ghost" goes marching on! A Vision J^hey tell me that John Brown is "dead;"* ^-' That he sleeps in his grave — in a bed Of the rocks and the sands, and the snow And the forests of long, long ago. But I tell them I waive what they say To the winds and the snowdrifts at play ; For at midnight — at Christmas — he came In the moonlight — the stillness — the flame! And he stood at my window — so white! — With his granite face grim in the light; And the Christ child was clasped to his side As he said: "For this child I once died!" Then turning as though they must go They looked in my heart and said, low: "There are so many millions to save Should one sleep — in one's peace in one's grave!' ElephahMs (On the beautiful group of mountains near Lake Placid, N T . Y., called "The Gianl Elephante."] /gspPALWART and grand ?£> "The Giants" stand! Crystal rocks are their bones within ; Their pulse blood is the living spring; The long scarred seams on their hoary hides Are the gorges of the forest sides ; Their trunks on high, in sublime advance; Their roar the mountain avalanche! Emblems of Truth's almighty power They scorn the flight of the passing hour; The mists and snows they little heed, Coursing their rugged loins in speed; The tempest flays their flanks in vain With lightning's scourge — with blightning rain! The ages come, and the ages go; The spring time flowers — the winter snow : Clad in their robes of ermine white They bare their brows to the polar night; And the stars of God shine down, in light, Upon their splendor of solemn might! Self Reliance One thinketh he must "dine on meat." Another "tastes but herbs," Adores conventions — this or that, While Doubt his soul disturbs. He trembleth at the breath of one; He shrinks to suit another; And seeks, by shutting out the sun. His better self to smother. They care not — cruel critics all — Whose gain is other's loss; Whose pride is only tinsel, Whose virtue's showy dross! The angel Death shall smite them — The end of Time for all! The heavenly test is: "Who has lived"? But not their "codes," at all! So — cast my casements open! Let in the joyous day! I love — this is my token — I have not long to stay ! Hespera 'CT: was evening—in midsummer's hush That Love came down— with Passion's rush! — Only the angels saw her blush! 3d To Caiaph; Xcare not a coin for your crown ! — Ye priests of the science of Self, With ph3 r lacteries falling low down But. your prayers and your poses for pelf! Ye climb to your steeples so high, Yet mock at the heroes who die. I care not a coin for your blame ! — Ye drones that lay burdens so vast Upon Life with its rapture and flame, Yet out of your temples it cast ! I gladly haste forth from your wall To find Mercy and Beauty for all. Ye trees that are barren of figs — While ye rustle and flutter your leaves ! I fly from your convents of prigs To gather life's sacredest sheaves! Ye neither pass in at The Gate Nor suffer the sad that there wait. Go! gather your harvest of dust And whitewash your charnel of bones ! Go heap up your coin — if you must — And pile up your crumbling stones ! Build houses — till there be no room ! They shall fall at the first crack of Doom ! I care not a coin for your pride It is false, it is barren and drear; It is waste that is washed by the tide; It is chaff — when the harvest is sere ! Let me live! Let me love till the last ! / will still live and love — when all's past! Two Ways pi brain— most vain for clarity— "—*■ Came marching down the road. Said he: "I'm tamed for charity; I grasp— then give abroad. My wealth is without parity, I am — a little God'" Just then there passed "A carpenter." It was The Christ our Lord ! He bore the kit of toiler; For daily tasks— the tools; He wore the garb of raoiler (So much despised by fools:) He passed that vain despoiler Who sought His Heaven "by rules." Quoth Christ: "Good friend— a lesson I've learned in Higher Schools." "Not all the pride of giving Can lift from man his sins; Nor in the pomp of living Is where God's grace begins. Be fair— before you're generous; Be modest— ere you're proud; Do Justice and love Mercy, Walk humbly with our God !' Stephsn Stoned Se did not give me Breath ! — I was sent here With many a longing, faith and fear, Into a globe like one vast swollen tear — To save from death ! Ye did not give me Life ! — I came upon the breeze; A murmnr in the mulberry trees; A spirit send o'er weltering seas To still their strife. Ye did not give my Dream That night and day enwrapped my soul, And bade it drink its bitter bowl, And to the mighty Social Whole Prove far more than I seem ! Ye did not give me Praise ! —For when the blows of fate fell fast, And all the spite of Hell was cast Full in my face — ye too, the last, Yaur hands did raise! Ye did not give my Song ! — Out of the depths there came A Voice to me Saying: "Arouse! Rejoice! Look up and see! Preach to the poor enslaved ! Go set them free! Loose their dull thong !" And so I sang my Lay: "God is a Spirit in the Earth and Air ! He breathes in atoms all that's good or fair — Beauty for ashes ! Fail not nor despair ! He brings The Dav!" The Living Church j/^hat great day cometh, saith the Lord, ^-' "When, not on tablets stone, My laws of Truth and Love I'll write, But in man's nerve and bone. "Within the marrow of his soul The fibres of his heart, I'll grave my Codex — as a Whole — Nor scant a single part. "No longer then shall steeples tower To totter, strain and fall; And upwards, in that sacred hour, Shall rise no narrow wall! "With heart to heart, and eye to eye. The living — not the dead — Shall be my Church, and in them, I Their bridegroom shall be wed. "Not Law, but Love, shall be my spouse: My children those of Deed; And Human Brotherhood arouse From cant and creed and greed. "United shall my church arise From every clime and age ! Against the host of hell— midskies— For Michael they'll engage! "Victorious then, in heavenly peace, With every foe o'erborne, Sorrow and Death and Hell shall cease, And My bright Crown be worn !" II Penseroso Old years ! fond years ! sad years ! Ah-Why so full of tears For the love felt but half said — To the living— to the dead? O ! why the waste and strife When the fleeting cup of life Is rich in sweetest joys For the hearts that Love employs ? Like a chord that's lost— a strain That may never come again, Is the fragrance of those years That were washed away in tears ! Lord of Life and Love ! Once more, Ere we're gathered to Thy shore. O come to us again With Thy Love -without the pain! Magdalen Chey brought me to the Master And said— "She's devils seven!" He bade them "take the devils," But took me— into Heaven! "She sinned because she loved much; She shall be much for given I" They shrank away, revengeful, A devil in each heart; They tore His brow with brambles ; Through me they drove their dart ! —But Resurrection morning I heard the angels call ! I was Hhe Firsf to clasp Him ! I did "outrun them all !" BuonarotNs Madonna and Child ( Medio! < iluipel, * vrand Sacred Mother! bending low, ^^ Above thy boy, thy marble bro^ Ami brooding on thecoming yean Thine aching heart seems strained t«> know lis we.illh Of JOy, lis Weight of woe, Too deep for bars ' Thine ample bosom, rich and kind Seems bending down, ns If to bind lis penl up agonies ! 1 le drinks ils tide, ils ebb and How j And like a (Jianl seems lo grow To deathless destinies ! Madonna Mca! grand and true! I clasp thy knees; I yearn lo yon In speechless sympathy ! I am thy humble human child. And thou our "Blessed Mother" mild, By His "Fraternity.*' Bind me, In Love, upon thj breast; There linn in Faith and Tins! lo rest Eternally \ Teach me, In strength Like his to grow, And live tO him— like A.ngelo— Ami immortality ! Japanese Lilies *~y ace vratchii -^ Some hiiltc. of lilir-s grow, When --ill about was nrildni Aufl /ill the land was snow. My life had pined in sadn< My heart aigh turned to stone, Till memory wat m:><; And sorrow clove the bone! Then turned I toward the lilies, Who ere dipped In sand, Whose tendrils grasped but rocklets, While yet tlir-ir Dreami irere grand! I fed their roots irith irater As f.iui': had f'-.rj mc t.':;tr.S; I dipped their sands In moisture grief had dipped my years; And slowly from t.h<: shad There grew a bloom of Youth, A fragrance and -'i floweret? it. was the Dream of Truth: l \><- Bulb oi ''■ That rose through grief and fall! the Faith in \)uty, Thai conquered all In all! The Lily atid the Rose (A Harmony by Contrast.) ^^here grew a lily by a garden close ; V-/ And, just beside, there flamed a ruby rose. Quoth lily: "Thou art fairer, friend, than I ! See how immaculate and cold I lie. While all the summer odors pass me by !'* Then spake the rose unto the lily fair, "Thou art so pure and white, I love thy air Of stately chastity— thou vestal fine ! Would that thy gracious elegance mere mine : Naught can thy classic lines and forms refine !" "But," quoth the lily, "by thy purpled vest, And all thy tangled passion, warm impressed, I know thy Heart— aflame with Rapture's wine ! Would that I had a fragrance such as thine ! Naught can such wealth of ecstasies combine ! "O Trumpet of the Holy one— so white !" Thus spake the rose : "Thy being, full of light, Is matchless music ! while my tangled leaves Are ravished by the nectar hunting bees, And I am swept and broken by the breeze !" Then came an angel, in Auroral light, And kissed the lily on that cheek so white ; And culled the rose and laid it on his breast ; And by its side the lily slept at rest; And e'en the angel knew not which was best. So passing through the Gate of Heaven, he trod The pearly Path where shone the Throne of God. And asked: "Which flower in Beauty, ranks above Its fellow fair? Then with celestial nod, God answered: "one is Truth, the other Love. "Hast thou not read, in my First Book (of Truth), How I refined pure patient Faith, in Ruth? Yet in the Second Chapter (of my Love) How the warm Heart of Mary I approve — Though the red dart of sorrow through her drove" ! Then, stepping down to earth, the Godhead shone Upon two hearts which Fate was making one; He entered like "a Guest" — serene, divine; The crystal Water changed to luscious Wine! So burst the festal joyance into flame ! You know that Feast-of-Cana — and His Name ! Stabar Mater O seraph of the starry zone That sitteth by the open tomb, Thou rollest back the ponderous stone And bid'st the risen spirit: "Come !" Thou sayest to him that falleth low And clasps thy feet with humble prayer ; "Dear soul —look up from all below ! The Lord has risen ! He is not here." And to the weeping women, dear, Who stand and ring their hands in grief, Behold ! thou driest every tear, And pourest, on their hearts, Surcease. And lo ! as now we watch the Gate We catch His streaming light afar ; And hear His tender voice: "Await! I come — with My trinmphal car !" Gavin and Babbie (Characters in Barye's "Little Minister.") eREAT Nature's heart knows every child She bears from out her forests wild, Or vales, or hills, or moors, or glens; And whither each one's pathway wends. She gave them birth — she gave them grace- And breathed the poem of each face. A stalwart soul, austere and bold, Young Gavin's heart her faith shall hold. While Babbie's, full of fire and grace, Shall be the flame lines of her face ! Those flames shall melt and forge his force ; His iron shall shield her grace's course. Take us, O mother Nature, then, Aud bear us — in thine arms — again ! We long unatterably for Thee ; Into Thy bosom broad we flee. Thine are the tides that fire our blood ; Thine are the dreams that o'er us flood; Thine are our longings toward the good ! But what is Good? Great Nature, Thou Alone canst tell — when? — who? — and how? So let the voices of the blest That stir us, lead us, too, to rest. And in the place of void and chill With Thy full Self our beings fill ! Abelard and Eloise j^he shadows of the moonlight break and droop ^-^ Across the cloister towers; What noble faces these that fondly stoop While toll the midnight hours? The deep bronze bell sighs forth upon the breeze, Laden from convent gardens, looking o'er the seas ; 'Tis Father Abelard and fair nun Eloise! Ah Love divine! and long remembered vow! Ye taught these hearts to feel. Thine were the seeds: lo! this the tiower now ! Their human senses reel ! Thy Beauty's fragrance floods the budding trees. Thy mighty passion warms what cant alone would freeze ! So Abelard enfolds his loved one — Eloise ! A form to clasp — a heart to trust and sigh — This is thy dower ! Toll mighty music ! roll down from on high ! Pour from thy tower ! Dull monks may sleep and drone upon their knees But Genius wakes ! and Love its human bliss must seize ! So Abelard clasps tight his loved one, Eloise ! Ah thus we learn thy lesson from the past And mediaeval lore ! No veil nor vow, no lock nor key may last — "Love doth fulfil The Law!"' Cold cell or seal, dull bolt and bar must cease ! Fond hearts come stealing through the moonlit trees ! Love links to love! — like Abelard and Eloise! Buddha Bell *y am the "Buddha Bell" "^ That was born of a song and a sigh! My strokes the long ages tell As the children of men go by. I breathe in the air and the sky, My notes are the centuries' roll, I bend to the low and the high, And harken to Nature's soul ! I am the "Buddha Bell !" My heart is of mellow bronze ; My old worn sides reflect Her flowers and leaves and fronds; And I glance to her waters below, And gaze on her stars afar, While my vibrant chords outflow Without a single jar. I am the "Buddha Bell"— With deep voice soft and low ; I know Life's mystic spell, Her tones as they ebb and flow. Her choirs of Heaven and Hell, Her anthems of earth and of air, Are caught in my bosom's swell And rung to Eternal Prayer ! To a Japanese Nocturne (Of Birdiets Asleep in the Full Moon.) ^he night is still — the willows droop, ^-' The film threads tangle all the sky, The cloudlets swim through curl and ,loop, The twilight sounds go murmuring by. 4'J Wee birdlets, on the bending bough, Fall nodding low, with breast to breast And he who has not sung enough He is the Poet of the rest. For lo ! the full moon rolling up Will not awake them while they sleep. She pours for them Nepenthe's j'cup And doth her tender fledglings keep. Great Mother God, across whose Breast By night or day the planets roll, Keep us, Thy fledglings, save at rest; And be the Moonlight of our soul ! Fire Flics Y^Taint, mystic fireflies, that glow •*- Along our path, as home we go, When twilight shadows gently fall And vesper bells begin to call. Ye are the spirits of the plane That light our fond hearts home again ; Ye are the twinkling lamps of bliss That toss to us the hearth's bright kiss, Thy fairy torches seems to be The Pleiads of life's mystery ! They are God's constellations low, That stoop to help the humble grow. What would our summer evenings be Without thy matchless witchery? Sweet falling stars ! Ye bring us Heaven Close down to Earth, to make it Eden ! Midsummer's Evening (T^f.neath the velvet shadows of the night, *** Through tangled depths of dewy summer grass ; The firefly legions float, in mystic light, And back and forth, in mazy dances pass ! They flash and fade — they glint and glide — full soon Through the soft clasping fingers of the moon ! Dark branches weave their trellised interlace; And, through them, flash the stars of Heaven aglow! Across their depths the constellations race, Mingle and melt with those that beam below! They blend their magic; influences, rare, With odorous flowers that haunt the summer air! Wafted from woodlands that are far away. Or gardens close, now ripening with the year; The tang of thyme, sweet Marjoram, new hay ; The crispy notes of crickets — on the ear! The stir of cattle; tinkling bells of sheep That clink and clash, so gently- moved in sleep! Deep breathes the Earth, with Love's sweet under- sigh; And bright beams Heaven, with radiant overgiow; Rich is the Rapture ! and the Gods draw nigh ! The fairies find them, and the elfins know ! So too, O Love ! we mortals catch thy bliss ! Thy magic trances — till we clasp and kiss! Stars of Midsummer r' breathe, today, a peace no untried "angel" -"^ knows, Because the winds have hushed, that tore my tired sails. Soft zephyrs soothe my brow, where hurtled late the snows, And hawks have given way to rapturous nightingales! The cold fierce North that drove, erstwhile, my stag- 'ring bark, Has lost its cruel hold, and in the place of fear, Kind balm fills up old wounds, and moonlight breaks the dark: And flowers of spring burst forth from those wan mountains drear! Fade, then, thou spectres grim, of Mammon, Greed and Care ! F!y far — who rob the soul to stuff the purse and mouth ! Be gone ! blind tyrants base ! Pride, Fashion, Caste, beware ! Deep, sweet and long I drink the fragrance of my South! Fair Isles Atlantis rise where, hushed, the night- winds sleep ! My boat floats light and safe, within its quiet port! Love's curtain closely drawn in raptures pure and deep, God gives usHope Etern' ; and not one tired thought ! Great Hearted ("God giveth not His Spirit l»y measure"— but "pressed ciowu and running over." "The generous soul shall be made fat." Bible.) ■TYriend, dost thou know those words — •*-^ Rich as are all the Lord's — Vast like some swelling river, Or some Aladdin treasure Scorning all bound and measure? God loves a wlwlesouled giver ! Seest thou the full moon merge Into the ocean's surge; Rush into every rill Till the vast inlands fill? —Wild flag and wild cress thrill ! God loves a greatheart, giver. Knowest thou the wild dove's nest And the down torn from her breast When her weelings shiver? From her heart's blood ta'en Though she fall slain ! God loves a fondhe,art„ giver. Hark ! Hast thou heard that song Larks pour when springs are young Till the full woods quiver? "Joy to the world again ! Good will to loving men !" God loves a cheerful giver ! Voices ("There are, as it were, so many kimisof Voices." — lMlile.) /^hou sayest "Silence golden'' — Why so bold? ^■^ When evening echoes, low, though tipped with daintiest feet, Still whisper back to whisper, with fond murmurs old, And kiss the gentle zephyrs in a cadence sweet; Still lightly trip in music over moor and wold, And breathe their evening "Good Night" to the slumbering fold? Nay, surely! say not so — since from Creation's dawn The morning stars rang out their song of rapturous glee; When o'er the azure depths rode forth the gladsome morn, And angel choirs took up the wonderous symphony ! Then sister Pleiads sang, as earth wheeled into line, And hailed the newborn's health, in quaffs of heavenly wine! Thou canst not so— since John on sacred Patmos slept And saw the Heavenly Hosts disclosed in dazzling white ; Each, with a harp and song, out of the darkness lept, And struck the chords of fire with notes of solemn might. Then Christ Himself, grand leader of the choir, Moved o'er the worlds His wand, and did the strains inspire. Nay verily! While earth rolls 'round