Class _/:li^53^ Book 'If^ CoBTiglitN°_ ^ COFrt^IGHT DEPOSIT. flDljetical anb ©tberwiee BY ANNE VYNE TILLERY Author of "Dream Verses'* BOSTON SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 1914 Copyright, 1914 Sherman, French & Company NOV 30 1914 • ©CI.A387743 TO HER WHO WOULD HELP WHOEVER SHE MAY BE I pray in behalf of a holier theme, — A love-vision purified, rare, — That shall waken the heart of a poet's dream And the loftiest thought declare. Thou, O Thou wonderful, Sovereign Lord, The truths of the mighty proclaim. And write on the lips of the newborn word A hint of Thy glorious name. CONTENTS PAGE Dusk Veils 1 A New Time 2 My Kinsmen 3 Mr. Spring Sunshine 4 Dancing Grasses 6 Balm of Pine 7 Willow-weeds 8 The Cut in the Road 9 A Song of Summer 10 Cotton Fields 11 Corn Song 12 When the Brook Says "Hush" . . .13 A Violet Grown Old 14 Withered Lilies 15 Bailey Blessings 16 Little Wet Flowers 17 Such a Day 18 A Love Fancy 19 To Emilie 20 Like Thee 21 Night Visions 22 A Little Farewell 23 Good Night, Love 24 Romance 25 Life 27 A " Melody in F " 28 The Dust that is to be 29 Little Teakettle 30 " Doin's " 31 PAGE Song of the Bullfrogs 32 Ghosts 34> Fancy 35 Pines Moonlit 36 The Burial of Dreams 37 Could We but Know 39 Paths 40 On the Life of Things 41 My Life Gift 42 To the World Silent 43 As I Pass 44 Heart of Hunger 46 Being Blue 47 A Void 48 Eyes of Error 49 Child Heart 50 Down the Glen 51 Life's Trinity 52 A Way of Thinking 53 Mexico 54 At Buena Vista 56 The Net 58 Immigrant 60 A Prayer 62 Pure of Heart 63 A Hope Song 64 Purity 65 Prayer Sympathy 67 Mine Host 68 MOODS MYSTICAL AND OTHERWISE DUSK VEILS Low-hung in the western heavens, On the brim of the late coming night, Mist-hung in the trailing sunset, Is the veil of the new twilight. Wind-swept in the clouds of the evening Is the crescent, all tender and shy; Bride-deckt for the rich, full midnight. And veiled in the garments of sky. Star-dust on the path of midnight. And over the veil-hung way She touched on the key of the morning. And, lo ! all the night was day ! [1] A NEW TIME Leaf things spoke softly And cloud drifts wept, Changing sun fancies Awoke and slept. Moon-beams swept downward, Mixed with the rain. And all was wet moonlight O'er hill and plain. New colors enraptured Called for a chance To cover the woodlands, On streams to dance. God in the springtime Whispered of love. So man for a soul-gift Reached out and above. m MY KINSMEN Wee grass-flowers to bird-heart tuned And notes of a wren to tree-buds start, A-throb with the rush of the mystic life, And all in tune with the great God-heart. These are bom of my blood, These my kinsmen of the sod ! Juices of plants by the roadside grown. And sap of singing, wild, pine tree. And lustre of broken brook and sod And big stone fancies, reflecting God, — All of these belong to me. My kinsmen, as He has said they be! Wild-voiced wind of a wintry eve, And snow on the window pane ; And the hurrying clatter of angry hail, And the sob of a winter rain Are all in the blood and bone, — Are parts of men when I am alone ! Drops of dew and the autumn flags. And the rustle of death among the trees. And the night when drear and the night when glad. And all of the songs of the summer breeze Are my kinsmen all, — My heart-response to the nature-call ! [3] MR. SPRING SUNSHINE To the little shut-in valleys, Little weaklings of the hill, Comes an early morning greeting And the whispering words, " Be still." For far a-down the cloud ways. Treading swift and sure and light, Comes the messenger of springtime To the gateway of the night. Mr. Spring Sunshine — Oh, young Spring Sunshine — The best Spring Sunshine That ever could be ! He's the friend of all the daisies. He's the father of the rose, And the pansies nod and whisper To the shut-ins, " There he goes." And the woods are all a-blossom And the birds are all a-thrill, Thinking of the great ice-gaoler And the long imprisoned rill. For it's Mr. Spring Sunshine — Oh, young Spring Sunshine — The best Spring Sunshine That ever could be ! He smiles at the little grasses And he waves to the tender leaves, [4] He flirts with the brave little crocus, And the sleepy old clod deceives. He's the brother of the dewdrops, He's the master of the year, And everything is singing That Mr. Spring is here. For it's Mr. Spring Sunshine — Oh, young Spring Sunshine — The best Spring Sunshine That ever could be! The lilies are a-waking, And 'tis time indeed, I think, For they've heard the mating robins And the bachelor bobolink ; And the earth is all a-quiver With the love-kiss of the spring. And he's put a big, gold halo About 'most every thing. For it's Mr. Spring Sunshine — Oh, young Spring Sunshine — The best Spring Sunshine That ever could be ! [5] DANCING GRASSES Wet, white clothes on a swaying line, And the sun on the dew-kissed world; Fragrant breath of the waiting Spring; Liquid music from bird-throat hurled; And the dancing grasses, The swaying grasses. Wild at the will o' the wind ! Man, his mate, and the skies aflame With the mystic touch and life of the sod; And the light on earth and the light on sea, New from the glorious hand of God ! And the dancing grasses And the swaying grasses. Wild at the will o' the wind ! Warm, deep scent of plum and peach, With the timid new awe of an apple tree ; Piling clouds and their hurrying wings Bespeak the summer that is to be. And the dancing grasses. The swaying grasses, Wild at the will o' the wind ! [6] BALM OF PINE Woods moonlit on a sultry night, And the world wrapped up in the ghostly light, And sweet night fragrance, — all of it mine In the glorious balm of the flowering pine ! Sounds, mystic through the lingering eve. And a twilight fled away that the nights deceive, And all through the glades the even-shine, Mixed with the balm of the flowering pine ! God's sweet gift of a wondrous night! The gentle air wears a robe of light; For the soul and the life of me are a-glow With that sweet, sad scent that the pine trees know. Hills, clad white with the sheen of the moon. And the call of the dark in the call of the loon. And all of the fragrance of the night is mine In the lingering scent of the flowering pine! [7] WILLOW-WEEDS Weeping Widow Willow, Whispering to you, Telling of her sorrow In her tears of dew. Weeping Widow Willow Wearing trailing green, Sighing for the morrow With her veils a-lean. Weeping Widow Willow, Weeds of splendor make Winds pass through a-sighing For her tender sake. Weeping Widow Willow, Watch the morrow's sun ; He will take your heartache Ere his course is run. [8] THE CUT IN THE ROAD There's a cut in the road that winds away, And the fancies of winds around it play, And my heart leans out to the great wide world Beyond the cut with flags unfurled. For the Spring has set at naught the tale, And I wander forth again without fail, — Out to the news of heart and brain, And out and on and on again. The same old call of the newborn Springs Has caught my heart in the rush of things ; My quiet and peace and rest are gone. And I go out and on and on. The cut in the road is the path for me. As I wind away o'er the hills to the sea, And the wail of the wave is my great charm-call That puts an end to my rest — and all. For out from the cut that starts the road I wander far to take the load ; And hopes of rest to the dust are hurled As I wind my will to the will of the world. [9] A SONG OF SUMMER Meadows gray, Break o' day, Sunshine just a-comin' ; Rustling com, Song o' morn, Bees begin a-hummin'. Birds awake, Love calls make, All is silver gladness ; Misty sun. Dawn begun, — This is July madness ! [10] COTTON FIELDS Cotton Fields! Cotton Fields! Burst in bolls of white, Dazzle all the sombre clod With reflected light. Cotton Fields ! Cotton Fields ! Sing your service song! Tell the many pickers All the great day long. Cotton Fields ! Cotton Fields ! Teach the weary, teach Of God's greatest sermons Beyond the power of speech ! Cotton Fields ! Cotton Fields ! For the weavers wait. Time will find you standing At his service gate I [11] CORN SONG Wave of the corn in open field, Song of the summer breeze, Spears of the green with promised yield Crested like the seas. Sing, ah ho, for the coming grain, Reapers and thrashers and such ; Sing, ah ho, for the sun and rain And glorious earthborn touch. God of the green and blue and gold. Gift of wind and calm, List to the melodies new and old — Corn would sing its psalm. Sing, ah ho, for the lilting strain. Blade and tassel and ear; Sing, ah ho, for the summer swain, The summer swain and his dear! Hope of the sod and the morning dew, Child of the sun and wind, Friend of the seasons, veined in blue To satin fancies pinned. Sing, ah ho, for the silken green And the waving blades of grain ; Com is singing, stalk a-lean, To the whispering, mothering rain. [12] WHEN THE BROOK SAYS "HUSH" There's time when the soul is turned away From the thoughts of things that make man's play, And out on the altars of big brook stones The soul of man Divinity owns. 'Tis just at the end of the even call When the night presents the day's gray pall. There's a moment when man is charmed away From the urgent needs of the hurrying day, — A moment when all is the call to prayer Out where the brooks and mountains are. 'Tis mentioned clear in the song of the thrush When all of the winds and the brook say " Hush." And birds and frogs and tree-things speak, And the light of day and night are meek With nearer presence of nature's God, And man's soul reaches above the clod. 'Tis the time when the hills are made of plush. And the brook slips by with his word of " Hush." [13] A VIOLET GROWN OLD In the nest of the buried and dead Where other wee hearts have bled, Out and erect he stands alone — A violet ancient grown. Where is the fragrance of yesterday ? Where are the friends of song and play? Sombreness only his soul may own — This violet ancient grown. Made for a soul that is wearied out, Made to dispel some gloom or doubt. Left for the soul of a man alone — A violet ancient grown ! [14] WITHERED LILIES Spreading leaf and gentle shell ; Of passion's reach, a tongue ; Pearling bend of fragrant bell, And tone of purity song. For in the dell and in the bell Is the lilies' life. Killing touch of mortal hand, Of passing human wish ; King he is, 'tis his command — So die, bird and fish. For in the dell, the dying bell Is the liUes' life. Empty heart and finished deed, Bend of a broken tree, Passing note with music's speed, Oiled and morbid sea — From the dell, the drooping bell Of the lilies' life. Withered bloom and fading flash, Beam of last year's sun. Buried tear and perfumed ash — Thus the day is done. Grieving dell and silent bell — Withered lilies lie. [15] BAILEY BLESSINGS Mountain, calm and true to me, Bear me the breath of flovfer and tree; Grant me the gift of an open heart ; And then all mysteries of love impart ! For yonder, all misty and big and true, I count you my guardian, Hill of Blue. Mountain, sweet and dear to me, I'll climb once more to your topmost tree, And off down the valley and into the night I'll gaze till the end of the fading light ; And there on the slope that leans to the west I'll seek me at last the depth of thy rest. Mountain, speak out to the heart of me Thy blessing of balm and slope and tree. And open the heart of thine ancient rock Till his strength responds to my feeble knock! And there, in the vim of ages past, I'll strengthen my will with his will at last. Bailey, young hearts call out to thee — Hearts that are young for the cares to be, And call to thee in different lights, And seek thee out through weary nights ; And they look to thee for their strength of will — Grant them their prayer, O rock-ribbed hill ! [16] LITTLE WET FLOWERS Little wet flowers of hillside Spoke with crystal tears, And talked of the future springtime, Of all the promised years. Little wet flowers of valley Looked up to the gray-green walls Of frowning rock and tree-buds. And tingled with wee love-calls. Little wet flowers of heartache Sang out to the vale and hill, And gathered a wee hope-fancy To strengthen a weakened will. [17] SUCH A DAY A SUMMER heat, but a sweet day ! The day's begun With a glory sun — My time to pray ! A sad day, but a glad day ! The dying trees And the funeral breeze Make me pray. A cold day, but a glad day ! The lashing sleet, Like a winding sheet, Bids me pray! A fresh spring and a new day ! The bursting clod Proclaims our God — And I pray. [18] A LOVE FANCY Into my soul on a summer's day A rapturous dream-thought came And built me a palace of play, But left me to fashion its name. Part of my dream was a fairy ship, And part was the ocean's blue ; So I carved me out of a ruby's lip The word that spells just " you." [19] TO EMILIE O Little Girl of Starlight, O Little Girl of Dream, — Nestling in the fancies Of a glad sunbeam, — Come from out the flowers. Tread upon the dew, Fill the daylight hours With the breath of you ! O Little Girl of Fragrance, O Little Girl of Rose, You are in the shadows Where the southwind blows. Come upon the whisper Of a honey-bee. Be a tender lisper To the heart of me. [20] LIKE THEE Distant and desperate sun depths, Pooled and fringed with a cloud, Sobbing circles of rain-light. Lost from the sky's moisture crowd, Are like thee. Silvered and sorrowing gray-age. Joyous medium heights Fashioned into a crown of life Shaded by love's high-lights. Are like thee. Violet-hidden the love-dream Where I leaned on the river lip, This is a rare, sweet vintage, This is love — let me sip — All of thee. [21] NIGHT VISIONS Dearest, I have thought of the nighttime, Fraught with its myriad dreams And its roseate, rainbow gleams. Dearest, I have fought with the nighttime. And battled in vain it seems, — For swept from the moorings of reason. Away on a great love's bark, I bathed in the early morning Like a veritable song-mad lark. For up to the gold edge brimming I poured me a potion of dreams, — Of magical, carefree dreams, Distraught with the passion of yearning. With love's forebodings it teems. Ah, then, through the network of fancy, Aglow with a holy light. Is fashioned the hallowed night, — The quiet, the dark and the silence of promised delight, — Ah, sweetheart, — of promised delight ! [22] A LITTLE FAREWELL Lover girl, with your eyes of blue And the beautiful curve of lips, Grant me a kiss from a heart so true In the touch of your fragrant lips. Lover girl, with the hand of caress And the heart of a bluebird true, Kiss me again with the power to bless The heart of your lover true. Lover girl, with a heart of gold And the song of a soul sincere, Pour into the treasures of silver and gold The hallowed purity tear. Lover girl, as I go away. Never to come again, Teach my soul in a great new way That joy shall arise from my pain. [23] GOOD NIGHT, LOVE Good night, Love. All the world is sleeping; I alone sit up and watch the dying glow. Good night, Love. All my heart is weeping For the dying winter and the melting snow. Good night, Love. Heaven's sun is waking; I alone must perish in its radiant glow. Good night, Love. My last day is a-breaking, Fading heart of winter, — and I must go. [24] ROMANCE Away off down the valley — A brook. Midway down our alley — Lives the cook! Three yards around the waist line Policeman Bill. Shadowy, lacking head line — The window sill! Nighttime brings the moonlight — Likewise Bill — Hankering, yearning, whistling To the window sill. All supper dishes washed up — Likewise cook, They wander down the valley By the brook. Moonlight is enchanting. So Bill says. Ghosts are out a-haunting — Cook.'' She prays! Frightened by the shadows — Takes his arm. Policeman Bill protects her From all harm. [25] Back they come from walking Neither has been missed. Neither one is talking — They have kissed! Such a lovely strolling By the brook ! Mother's quite distracted — Now no cook ! [26] LIFE A LITTLE jack-rabbit Leaped into a thicket; Towser raised a mighty howl, And then played cricket. Children got to screaming, Excited by the racket ; Twig caught one fellow By his hole-y jacket. The teacher, irritated, Sent for limber switches ; Dusted little Martin On his well-worn breeches. " Heap much " excited Through the sunny day, — That's what happens everywhere ; Big folks act that way. £27] A "MELODY IN F" Fond foolish fancies, Found in fairy flies, Dangling in the sunshine Of the summer skies. Fond father frantic — Foolish fls farewell; Anxious mother crying, — Son is seeking Hell. Faith finds follower, — Flees the fiery fiend ; Hymn from nearby choir,- Prodigal redeemed. First the faithful father Finds the fatted folly ; Lean and hungry wastrel,- Home is awful jolly ! [28] THE DUST THAT IS TO BE (With Apologies to Kipling) When the last of the mud has vanished, And the streets are free from the rain, And the stickiest clods have flattened, And the sun has come back again, — We shall smile, and surely we need to, For the lines of the saddened face Have stiffened into an outline Too sad for the human race. And all that was sad shall rejoice us, And all that was gloom shall be bright, For " dust unto dust " is our motto, And all fear a muddy plight ; And the clouds shall regain their whiteness. And only our rubbers be sad For the end of the days of darkness And return of the days that are glad. And only the heat shall annoy us. And off go the winter coats, And on with the young, spring jacket, And gone all the cold and sore throats. But each for the joy of the dust-bath. And each with his own little cloud, Shall raise all the dust that he wishes. And be " cussed " by the following crowd. LITTLE TEAKETTLE He sang, and he sang a song so queer I said to myself, " Oh, dear ; oh, dear, This wee teakettle is mad, I fear." But I listened and listened until, it seems, That he and I had been dreaming dreams. And the coals of the fire laughed out in gleams. This wee teakettle is dear to me now. We've quite gotten over our bit of a row ; He's taught me new things of all life, I allow. [30] " DOIN'S " Frogs has got to croakin' And a-creakin' and a-cryin'; Brooks keeps on a-chokin' In its sobbin' an' its sighin'. Chilluns goin' a-wadin', Stumpin' lil' wet toes ; Gardner is a-spadin' ; Growin' things jes' grows. Birds has got to matin' Jes' so dreadful soon, An' I jes' got to waitin' For the midnight moon. Seems to be a-stirrin' 'Bout most everywhere, An' a kin' o' whirrin' Through all the sweet air. Seems I got a feelin' In these here bones Tells me o' Spring stealin' Un'erneath the stones ! [31] SONG OF THE BULLFROGS Old Daddy Bullfrog sat in de swamp Up ter he chin in de mire, An' he kep' up his quarrelin' wid Mammy Frog An' de chillun settin' by her. 'Twas de dark ob de moon in de Dismal Swamp, Dey waz er waitin' dar fu' de firefly lamp, An' er tellin' dey troubles in de dark an' de damp, Dar in de mud an' de mire. Lil' Billy Bullfrog say ter he ma Out in de Dismal Swamp, " I'se mouty tired er waitin,' Ma, Fer dat measly firefly lamp. Ma heart am ober in Bullfrog Town With Mary Frog er roamin' er-roun'. An' ma voice am outer tune I'se foun'. Jes' lissen, — 'Ker-champ — kerchamp.' " An' ole Mammy Bullfrog say ter her son, Swallerin' a keerless fly, "G'long, g'long, dat's nonsense, chile; Dat gal ain't gointer cry. Eben if yo waits hyer all of de night Till de Glee Club start an' dat firefly light, T'ain't gwinter hu't yer a bit, an' I'se right ; Shet up, shet up, — y' ain't gwine die." [32] Den old Daddy Bullfrog say in his th'oat, A-glarin' at his son, " Huccume, huccunie, you act this way ? Yo' gotter sing dat song. So shet up dat fuss an* set up straight, I'se a gsvinter crack yo' silly pate, Youse de wuss chile outer de eight. So go 'long, go 'long, go 'long ! " But dey wait all night fer dat firefly lamp. Out in de dark an' de gloom ; An' hit nebber come, fer dat firefly lamp, Ma chile, was de big roun' moon. An' all night long in de mud an' de mire Dey waited dar fer dat lamp er fire. An' Daddy Bullfrog sang, while de morn got nigher, " Comin' soon — comin' soon — comin' soon." [3S] GHOSTS Honey, w'en de lights am a-flickerin' out, Yonder in de west ; An' dem goblin soun's am er-roamin' about — Yo'd jes' better be jo' best! — Dem's ghosts ! An' chile, yo 'member all about dat noise Tappin' on yo baid? Dat's a warnin' fer de li'l bad boys. An' yo'd better tuck in yo' haid. Dem's ghosts ! W'en yo hear de whine ob dat yallar dawg, Nosin' roun' de stoop ; Set yo' eye on dat back hearth log, An' twis' dat 'baccer loop, — Dere's ghosts ! But, baby, w'en de hants am nosin' roun', Scarin' you mos' ter deaf. Lay dat bar's foot on de groun', Cunjer 'im, hoi' yo' breaf, — Dem's ghosts ! [34] FANCY Intangible, sovereign mood, PVaught with thoughts all crude, Will-o'-the-wisp of mental play, Moonlit through the woodsy way. Skipping, singing with joy, Fond with a fool's alloy. Delicate dream of silver light. Out of the reach of real foresight. Fire and rain and tears, Ash of the ancient years, Memory's shadow, mad and wild — Fancy, the Dream-life's child. [35] PINES MOONLIT Sovereign alchemist Moon, Spring on the night unaware, Grant me a great, new boon, To a timid soul who would dare Claim thee soon. Power of radiant light. Wan to the blindman's sight. Paint all anew the grove of pine. That in a new way my God is mine In awakened midnight — Pine trees sing and whisper and sigh To the heart of a wanderer, such as I ; And the moonlight full of silence will Teach to the tune of the singing rill The melodies of the sky ! [36] THE BURIAL OF DREAMS They put you 'way down in the valley, Away from the hurrying feet, Away from the noise of the street. O tomb of my great ideal ! O solemn lost soul ! And I seek you anon in the nighttime. Fearsome and all afraid — If the truth should be said — With a backward glance of horror, O thieves of the good and right ! Profane is the touch of the real, O selfish, O confident world — I, from my dreamland hurled ! Oh, awful, this sacrilege selling, murderous hand of time! 1 bought, with the selling of spirit. The shame of a silent soul, — The price of material toll ; And I find it unworthy the buying, — This skeleton soul ! Ah, white is the sepulcher standing. Lost as a thing apart. Containing its tortured heart. And I sigh me a sigh of failure, — A slave of golden greed. [37] And I seek in the blackness of nighttime This marble, the tomb of my soul, When the thunders of prophecy roll, And, flashing, the lightning of fancy Revealeth the ghost of my soul. And I sob in despair of this living, A cry that is hollow with din. The remorse of my sin. And I give up the all of my longing At the cold marble tomb at the tomb. [38] COULD WE BUT KNOW Ah Love, could we but touch the hidden treas- ures, — Uncover only gleammg, gleaming, glittering gold, — And feast the gaze on this, one round world's pleasures, Though they should mean the selling of a soul — Could we not rise to heights undreamed? See, where yon moon's silver symbol beamed ; A prodigal indeed is she With yonder path across the foolish sea. Ah Love, what know we of those mystic regions, That spirit land around, above, beneath, about. Where shallow shapes sweep 'round in legions That we shall join when goes our candle out? Could we but know their sinning and their sor- row. Our lives might different be tomorrow. Ah Love, such shapes, such miracles around us go — Could we but know, could we but know! [39] PATHS Sweet wee ways of gladness, Sweet wee ways of pain, Sweet wee bits of sadness, And storm of a summer rain. Are all of them ways to my liking And all of them ways of my gain. Sad sea waves of ocean, Sad sea waves of grain, Sad sea waves of emotion, And hail on the window pane, Are all of them seats of learning And all of them welcome again. Ways of the weak and shallow. Ways of the deep and strong. Ways of the lean and sallow. Ways of the wicked and wrong. Are all in my paths of walking. Are paths of the whole day long. [40] ON THE LIFE OF THINGS And who would have thought it Just yesterday? The violet's alive, And the lilies play, And I met a big tree Just humming a song, And a wee cloud cried As he sped along, And all of the things have souls they say. Who would have thought it — just yesterday? [41] MY LIFE GIFT I CANNOT give it on a wooden cross, Nor does death offer soldier fame, Nor can I lay it in a victor's loss — It is too much a-flame. I crave that I shall live a life supreme. Void of all fear or craven shame, — To make my life to bum of golden dream. And thus to be a-flame. To give to one a star of silver worth. To place a jewel in his name, To make my sorrow into holy mirth, The whole with love a-flame. And not that I shall keep it all — This life a-flame — But send abroad its radiant call, In Jesus' name. [42] TO THE WORLD SILENT There are ears that would hear a-right, There are eyes that would claim their sight, There are nerves all aquiver with would-be touch, There are senses alert with the throb of much. So, Things of a world all still, Things that make God's will. Open to me Avith your great, sad selves, Open to me all your fairies and elves ! Mine is the heart that would willing sing. Mine are the words with your life to ring; 1 have prayed that our Father would give me the note. The speech for your dumbness of lip and throat. [43] AS I PASS Let me taste of the perfumed air As I breathe. Let me learn of the calm of mom When I seethe. Open my eyes to the bloom Of the freshened earth. Let me have with thine other things The great new birth! Let me touch with awakened sense All new, alert ; Tune my heart to the song Of the singing dirt ; Out of the tomb of my doubt Raise for me Faith ; A new body for me fashion From this wraith. May the song and the word of my lips Breathe out praise. May I learn of earth's melodies And of her ways. May I eat of the food He has made For the soul of me. May I sing with the selfsame rhythm That swings the sea. [4s4] A-tune with the hope of life And the sea and the sod, May the notes of my song as I pass Bespeak my God! [45] HEART OF HUNGER You asked me one day, all doubting, A thing I could never explain. The why of my whims and my fancies, And really the why of my pain. You asked me the whence and the wherefore, And showed you were plainly annoyed When I longed for the soul of your interest And all the sweet thoughts you've employed. You asked when my heart was all hungry, And even for love all a-thirst ; And yet you were far, far away, dear, — You, even you who are first. Hunger of heart was my portion. And I shut up my soul in its shell. Your eyes saw no loneliness in me And the want that is worse than Hell. You asked, but I blame you not for it; You are human as well as divine. You are my same, dearest, Friend-One, You are now none the less called mine. O my Friend, I have placed you within me. The keys of my moods are your own. Though you rule without question or answer. There are times when I must feel alone. [46] BEING BLUE Black draperies within a blue-gray heart And elsewhere is the sun — Sable settings for my pastime When the nights have won. Ghost-ridden fancies in a cleft of heart — And elsewhere is the light — Whims and moods upon my spirit, And continuous night. Vagaries swift and piercing — Elsewhere Reason's realm — Boding dire, portentous, Frantic fears o'erwhelm. Sable and ghost and portent — Unnecessarily blue. Why do we do it, Comrade? I know no more than you. [47] A VOID Touch of death in autumn wind And foam on angry wave, Childhood's heart on summer morn And tear on new made grave. Maple leaf in early fall And winter moan of sea, Sullen cloud at sunset time And wind on moor and lea. Nightingale and crescent moon, And shadow on the lake, Left off touch of love just dead In the struggle of give and take. These, my heart, are our negatives, Our tale of the barren waste ; Neglect to Love that is our child, At will to come or go. [48] EYES OF ERROR A CHILD played madly and laughed and sang And plucked him a parkside flower, And listened while melodies rippled and rang From the bells of the tiny flower. But the laughter left and the melodies died As the eyes of error that saw him lied. A maid walked out with dazzled eyes, And straight to the heart of the city. And soiled her soul with artful lies Till her heart had lost its pity. And a moan from the dying was never heard For the life of her eyes of error erred. A woman learned law from a balcony seat, And watched the passing throngs, But dropped a rose to the criminal street That awakened a few new songs. But a minister sneered with a caustic word His eyes of error had erred — had erred. And children and women and men and kings Look out where the world is passing by, And talk of evil and good — and things, And turn from the truth to a lie. For we judge and are judged as ones that were, For the mind and soul and eyes of us err. [4,9] CHILD HEART O Man with your wondrous gift! Woman with ways of grace ! I, with my heart adrift, Gaze rapt on your childlike face — For I need a new cap and gown, And my bells have ceased to ring; 1 plead for the silken down Of the great child heart to sing! O Man with your gift of life ! Woman with heart a-flame ! Lead me the way of strife, Lead me to lisp your name. For my mien is mature and gray. My soul has grown hard and cold. 1 need to go far, far away, — I need the child heart of gold. [50] DOWN THE GLEN At the little schoolhouse in the pine trees I played for awhile. I studied and listened and learned a-pace, And made a new smile. And once I walked with the teacher Out of the beaten track Down into a hilly, shadowy spot And then came back. But I learned, O Soul, I learned ! I learned of God and of men! That day when I walked with my Teacher Down to a leafy glen! [51] LIFE'S TRINITY The Labor was long and the west was red, When Learning came to the gateway And gently claimed the tired head While Love took charge of the heartway. And Labor and Learning and Love were there At the end as in the beginning, And Labor and Learning and Love made prayer For the human and his sinning. And the Christ appeared at the cai-penter's bench And smiled from the books of Learning, But shed a tear on the graven trench Where Love had worked at Yearning. [52] A WAY OF THINKING 'Tis the way we think, we live, 'Tis in the soul's expanse we give ; And life is what we most desire, A rich complete of dew and fire. For all our hopes we always blend With dreams and pasts we daily spend. And rose and wreath we quick divide And scatter on the future's tide. O Friend, reach out your hand to me, And let our pasts and futures be. We must work out the promised pay, Complexities of this today. [53] MEXICO Wail, Woman, wail ! You of the cactus-land ! For the finished wail is the finished tale Of a wild and wasted land. And the finished wail is the finished tale Of hostile gun and hand. Wait, Woman, wait! You have waited long indeed ! For the sun on sod and stone and clod Is the cursed country's need. For the sun on sod and stone and clod Is the fiery warlock's seed. Pray, Woman, pray ! The prayer of faith God grants, And Mary's Son ere the day is done May change their hearts perchance. And Mary's Son ere the day is done May banish flag and lance. Count, Woman, count! Your beads are your only hope — For the days of feast and the beggar's beast Sit at your door and mope. For the days of feast and the idle priest Have you for their only hope. [54] Die, Mothers, die! Man makes a cruel world! For the peon's gun and the angry sun Their rays of death have hurled. For the angry sun and the peon's gun Guerrilla war unfurled. [55] AT BUENA VISTA Over the shoulders that wore the blue, Over the shoulders that bore our guns, Mexican stars and Mexican dew And beating fury of Mexican suns Guard the unmarked ranks of blue. And careless peons, with unwashed feet, And laughing jest at the place of death. Pass with the careless guitar beat And puff their clouds of cigarette breath, And comrade ghosts their comrades meet. O barren, barren battlefield — With here and there just nature's stones To mark the spot with courage steeled Where dusty soil holds " Gringo bones " On barren Buena Vista's Field ! Comrades, shoulder arms again And take the flag to comfort them. To rest the pathos of their pain Beneath the blue of starry hem That holds the night upon their train! The cruel feet of brown half-breed Must not defame their resting place ! The cruel sneer of Spanish seed Must die upon the careless face! The Mexican must now take heed ! [56] O'er hearts that bore them ever true, And veins that bled from mongrel ball, Tread lightly, lest you stir the blue That answered at the battle call; Tread lightly, Half-Breed, through the dew! [57] THE NET Draw it closer, men of nighttime, Not half full the human toll, Fill it full of pure and impure While the hastening seasons roll. Maid and Mother, mind the system Ere it claim you for its own, — Octopus, and ever hungry For the taste of girls alone. Draw it closer, man or devil. There are others you may get, For the net is almost empty And the fish are many yet. There was once a Son of Mankind, But He spake not of a " den " When His gentle words were uttered " Fishers, ye shall be, of men." Draw the net; the night is early, — The clock is striking only ten, — And the cry of many thousands Is the cry for lust again. Look upon the face of evil; Satan draws his cord in close, And the world shall take his tonic In a dark and deadening dose. [68] Draw the net ; the prey is wary ; There are many that would save, And the heart of gentle girlhood Begs for honor or the grave, Ring the words out clearly, Workers, They are true today as then; For your hope is full of purpose, " Fishers, ye shall be, of men." [59] IMMIGRANT Sing me a song of the Immigrant, Lonely and sick of soul, Glad to the shores of the Promised Land Paying a seeker's toll. Sing me a song of the sick at heart. Of the ways and sins of man, Of the soul-fed purse and the traveller's curse, And the sin of the Promised Land. Sing me a song of the Immigrant, Joyous and glad of heart, Come to the arms of an open world And the wiles of a hidden art. Sing me a song of the laborer's breath And the foul and tainted air. And the song of death in the miner's breath. And a hopeless Catholic prayer! Sing me a song of the fatherland. Of customs staid and old — Free and young the New World's way. But ancient to ways of gold. Sing me a song of this Promised Land And its weeping woman and child, And the cry of dearth of the promised earth. And the pain of the mind that is mild. Sing me a song of the gaping mine. And of poison and death within. [60] Sing me a song* of the subway's whine, And the New World's olden sin. Sing me of greed and the clutch of hearts In the twist of an iron paw ; And the darkened gloom of the under-tomb, And the execution of Law. Sing me a wail of the underworld With its hunger for foreign toll, Sing me a wail of the blackened heart And the sale of a human soul — But sing likewise of this Promised Land And sing of its hearts that are true, And the burden of song Trmst change ere long To a carol of spirit hue. [61] A PRAYER King-Maker and Infinite Good! Reach me tonight as I play aloft, Grant me choice of worthy mood, Teach my heart to sing of life oft! O Sovereign Lover, Tender Lord ! Fill me and grasp my soul in Thy hand ; Grant me, O Giver of Breathing Word, To know and to do Thy command! Great Lonely Comrade of Mankind ! Teach me to know Thy walks and ways; Grant me Thy breath (most glorious find!) That with Thy notes I sing Thy praise. Wonder-Doer, Heart of Life! Thrill me through with Thy current's power, That now on earth in evil strife 1 may recognize Thine hour. [62] PURE OF HEART A BABE came into a wicked life, Flooded by rivers of sin ; But through the murk of evil strife, Deadened and deafened with sin. Lived like a white rosebud ! The child climbed up a roadway white. Under a blazing sun, And poured on the lips of a seeker of light The water of work well done, — The work of the pure in heart. The man fought well in the crowded mart. Fought with dirt and death ; But single of purpose and pure of heart. And clean and sweet of breath, Fought in the lists of God. The soul walked down a shaded lane. Walked where truth had won ; And prayed for the touch of the crowds again. But the masses with him were done. Crowds love the broad highroad. The lonely soul passed on to God With a plea for his finished part; And the Man of Sorrows and Love and Sod Was comrade to Pure in Heart — And the child had seen his God ! [63] A HOPE SONG Out of the depths I come And follow after Thee. Thy gracious word of love Has set me free. Out of the past of doubt And into the light again ; After the days of fear And nights of pain. Now with a glad, new song From the lips and soul of me I thank Thee, gracious Lord, That I am free! [64] PURITY Child, with your wondrous tempting, Your body and mind and soul. Breath of the purest thinking And all of your qualities whole. Go gaze on the sin-stained millions, — But gaze from the mountain height ; And knowing the paths of darkness, Tread life all free from blight. Woman with touch of the wondrous, Your heart is a thing all pure. Your thought can claim the futures And cure disease without cure: And the thing that is low and fallen With loss of a human light May rise from the murk and mire Because you are free from blight. Mother, your life is of suffering, Your body has known its pain. Your heart is scarred and broken, Your mind ever weary again. But your life is alive with blessing And you lead to the might of right. For the touch of your inspiration Is free from the earthborn blight. Soul that would know its Maker, Heart that is full of care, [65] Your hope is the hope of millions, Purity once their prayer; But still through the touch of the mortal, And still in the Valley of Blight, There shineth the cross of a Saviour Aglow with a mortal's light. [66] PRAYER SYMPATHY Within the incompletion of my thought I seek the path of human prayer ; And all within the knowledge of blood-bought I find Him there, I find Him there. Friend, pass your way as I go mine, A little mile between, maybe. And at the turn I see your deeper sign — Perhaps a sign for me, a sign for me. No doubt just then I need a helper's hand — The strife is long, the sun is hot ; And on I go to seek a shadowland — And as with you, this is my lot. A little mile between the two, no doubt ; And prayer-thought all so incomplete; Yet to our spirits is no real without — And promises of God are sweet, so sweet! [67] MINE HOST Into the chamber of blue and gold, With fretwork of fancies divinely told, Throughout the circle of sea and land, — An orchestra filled with a bird-throat band, — And I am the guest of God ! Without the touch of a single fault. From spread of sky to the jewel vault, My suite of rooms is a wondrous place. Reflecting the sheen of its Maker's face, — In this, the place of Mine Host ! With all of the joy of a royal guest. My body and soul with His garments dressed, And the food of His table for brain and frame. Marked with the letters of His wondrous name, — I feel my Gentle Host ! And though to mine eye He be unseen, I see with my soul and heart a-lean To His touch, His look, and His presence near. In this guest-chamber of wide world here, — And He is Mine Host ! [68]