Class _ J. Bonk- . ' ! S ;- / , GtiyiightN" __i^ CQEmiGHT DEPOSm SANTA BARBARA DAYS AND OTHER POEMS EDWIN ARTHUR HUNT SANTA BARBARA DAYS AND OTHER POEMS BY EDWIN ARTHUR HUNT PRINTED BY THE KALAMAZOO LOOSE LEAF BINDER GO. OF CALIFORNIA Copyright. 1920 lY Edwin Arthur Hunt A559405 gr <4r INDEX JU Dedication ^\^ Santa Barbara Days 1 Spring Rain at Santa Barbara 2 i'j The Source 3 ^- Cold Springs Brook 4 ,,, Santa Barbara Springtime 5 Spring 6 The Tree 7 The Sea Is Calling 8 Aurora 9-10 A Day 11 The Evening 12 Evening 13 Night's Voice 14 Sunset Sea 15 Outward Bound 16 The Channel Islands 17 The Poppy 18 Roses 19 A California Garden 20 Come to Me 21 Song 22 Farewell to Thee 23 The Elf's Day 24-25-26 Beauty's Sorrow 27-28 I Am the Wind 29 A Picture 30 The Misty Clouds 31 I Dreamed a Dream 32-33 Lost Youth 34 And Thou Art Mine 35 The Hills at Ojai 36 Matilija Stream 37 At Rest 38 Alchemy 39 Fall Moon 40-41 Sunland 42 Moon Madness 43-44 Night Magic 45 We Shall Not Pass 46 Sailor Men ; 47 Duality 48 Sing to Me, Love 49 When Falls the Night 50 Recompense 51 . Reincarnation 52 I Can Understand 53-54 Gone Art Thou, Beloved 55 Life 56-57 L'Envoi 58-59 DEDICATION I see a bay With waters lapping, Dancing, splashing On the glistening sands. I feel the magic wind From islands to the south Which whisper low, strange tales Of other climes and other lands. I hear a low sung choral Borne by falling wave And winging gull And oak and palm. The pulse of this creation, Beating through my soul. Renews my tired spirit With the freshness of the dawn. Edwin Arthur Hunt. SANTA BARBARA DAYS The morning leaps above the Rincon, Scintillating in a silver haze ; Flies across the breadth of jeweled ocean And ushers in another day of days. The gentle zephyrs of each perfect day Softly touch the rosebuds and the marigolds, And wander on across the mountain way Where ancient gods hide 'neath their magic folds. They herd the fleecy flocks that dot the blue, Content to graze on high in warmth and peace. Confirmed in majesty by me and you Who know these perfect days can never cease. SANTA BARBARA DAYS SPRING RAIN AT SANTA BARBARA The earth is full of rain, And still more rain is falling. Mission Creek roars Wide and muddy o'er the rocks To color the sea earth brown. The water tinkles off the eaves Upon the ground. The heavens Are full of anguish and wish To cleanse this bitter earth With tears. A yellow glow Edges the roofs in darkness. Somewhere the murmur Of voices ; somewhere The twitter of birds. Out of the window far away The ocean lies aslumbering Till it meets the sky. The clouds are driving pell-mell, Like furious, frustrate ladies, Upon the mountain peaks, Withdrawing from one ridge To reveal another beyond. The hills are brushed with green. The slopes dotted with red roofs. Look to be sliding down The velvet slope to the ocean. AND OTHER POEMS THE SOURCE Mountains, rearing haughty heads To the proud blue sky, Slip down to bathe in languid sea, Struggle o'er their own crags To peer at the singing brook. The orchestrated stream. Which surges onward home In the melody of its own going. SANTA BARBARA DAYS COLD SPRINGS BROOK I am the liquid song Of many birds, The rainbow, and the sky. I carry all the wrong And wash it in the sea. I curl around the stones And hear their words. Then linger near their hearts, And dash away again for fear That I will turn to stone. I am more than living water. I am springtime and the fall. I chase away the seasons. Then I cry to see them go, And I shout my fond goodbye. I am strength within the oak, And faith to living men. I am beauty to the wild rose, And love to springing grass. I am life who leapeth past. AND OTHER POEMS SANTA BARBARA SPRINGTIME Freezias and hyacinths, fragrant with love; White clouds flying in silence above; Green grass spreading over the hill ; Mocking birds singing their strangest rill. Moonbeam and sunlight calling to me; One in the shadows, the other in glee; Brooks in their fullness and glory of life ; Waves in their madness and earth-tearing strife. Brown leaves bursting their winter shell; All earth clamoring its glory to tell ; Bright eyes are telling of hearts light and gay; Red lips are singing their love songs today. SANTA BAPwBARA DAYS SPRING The symphony of spring is playing By the orchestra of God, And all the birds are singing, And flowers lifting from the sod. The harmonies are sweet and pure, The trills are rippling rills Of winding brooks secure In the mountains and the hills. The color scheme is rich and deep With shades of brown and green ; And splashed upon the hillside steep Are gold and purple seen. The iridescent sunlight plays On the hidden drops of dew In early morn of the joyous days, And lets them flash for you. AND OTHER POEMS THE TREE I fell upon this giant stone Many years gone by, And falling there, felt alone Some earth on which to die. But as my life had nearly fled A tiny drop of water fell Sweet smelling on my head, And bade me burst my shell. I thrust my tiny fingers through The soil on which I rested, But granite stopped my life then, too, And vain had I resisted. Once again a raindrop came And courage gave to me ; He kissed the stone ; his the blame That I could grow more deeply. Years slipped by as silently I fought that stone for life, Until I found myself a tree And split the stone in strife. SANTA BARBARA DAYS THE SEA IS CALLING Through the low hanging pines on the bluff, To the deep swelling sea o'er the sound, Where the low flying gulls seek the fish That swim lazily far out to the west, There's a breath in the breeze that is blowing. Like a scent from the island of Pan, With a tang of free flying billows That whistle and sing and are glad. There's a promise of romance In the questing, restless sea That is drawing, and singing and calling To me; a-calling forever to me. AND OTHER POEMS AURORA The laughing wings of morning dip Their crimson feathers in the sea, Then spread them o'er the earth, In a joyous minstrelsy Of song. They brush the tired ramparts Of the ebony divine, And hang the garlands of the stars About the pillars of the day In song. They fill the cavernous dome. Wherein the breathing dark Has lain, with brilliant rapture, Enrich the earth, reveal the sun In song. While yet the heavy, working eyes Are throbbing in the ache of sleep They gently rise agleam in heaven. Subdue the lights of martyred gods Not long — SANTA BARBARA DAYS For soon their pinions tire, Freighted by the weight of doom, And e'er they mount the cross, Or touch the sword Orion swung So long They purple in their anguished flight To know that once again The futile winging of the sky Has failed to fill all men With song. 10 AND OTHER POEMS A DAY The rose of morn breaks o'er the earth, A restful benediction, Diffused upon the mountain slope, Reflected on the sea, Enchanting mistress of the jeweled sky. Oh dawn of revelry ! Garlanded in purple hue. Entrained with mists of dew. I see thee sweep the vaulted blue With gesture of regal grace, And glance aloft with ruby eye Athirst for worlds unconquered lie. Thy breath like the sweet sigh Of love in fond embrace, Enraptures wak'ning man. And like the ray of diamonds white Upon the whirling earth you flash, Bedecking seas in emeralds. And clouds in chains of gold. From out the holes of moistened ground, The caves of rock bound glen, The shivered tree on craggy knoll. Or the huts of man, they stream To do thy bidding, chaste and pure. Goddess of the Day, secure In thy temple of the night to fare When life shall tire of its play. 11 SANTA BARBARA DAYS THE EVENING Softly down the tide the day is drifting; Softly o'er the earth the veil is lifting On the face of night. Softly o'er the water languor steals, Slowly o'er the land sweet evening feels For the hand of light. Singing pastorals of calmest moods, Sighing requiems of oaken woods. Evening flies on. Flies onward in the wake of time, Folds over thee fond wings of mine. Brings peace, and flies on. 12 AND OTHER POEMS EVENING I dwell where the shadows creep athwart The low flying branches of the oak, And the rustle of her green-gray gown Makes music when the sun goes down. I steal upon those outstretched arms, And watch the shadows close around me. Then I lie my head upon her breast And dream of God and call Him blest. SANTA BARBARA DAYS NIGHT'S VOICE The burning heat of summer day Has traced its way across the earth, And home at eve to love and play I come, well knowing whence thy mirth. The rose-tinted clouds hover close Above the purple mountain peaks, And then turn gray as night grows Lovingly athwart the sky and speaks. The night speaks with the voice of song, The melody of stars and dew ; Night brings me hope and lingers long In my memory of you. 14 AND OTHER POEMS SUNSET SEA The sea, sister of the silent sky, Lies adreaming, tossing with a rhythmic pulse. Rising, falling, world without end ; Smooth as the highest sky. Blue as her soft blue eye. Quiet, quiet, rise and die, Sunset sea and morning sea. Mirage of land upon thy heaving breast. Encircled round, north, south and west. Wave follows wave with glassy glide. Golden bands, then darker blue. Rosy lips thrust to the sky That bends aloft in contemplation Yet refusing thy caress. The sun goes down reluctantly Behind the silent guardian Ranges of the west that hold Forever, and forever thy form embraced. They blush for fear that he will rise No more upon thy languid breast. They blush, then slowly melt Into lavender and as night creeps on They draw the purple curtain of repose. Thou, oh Goddess of the world, Soft caressing shores voluptuously. Sigh to have the peaks no more, Then laugh thy fickle laugh agam As the east wind moves his lover's hand Ecstatically across thy smooth brow. 15 SANTA BARBARA DAYS OUTWARD BOUND Outward bound and the day is calm. The waters sleep upon earth's palm Outstretched to feel the sun. Our sails are full of the living air, And the fishes speed beneath our keel, Where the deepened shadows run. We leave the Santa Barbara coast, An opal dream, a purple haze tlpon the southern sea. And sail away to distant lands and seas. But e'er we leave this elfin land, Look back in hope to thee. 16 AND OTHER POEMS THE CHANNEL ISLANDS Thy low-flung pennons resting, Stretched between the sea and sky ; Purple shades when night is falling, A hint of earth gone drifting by. When the sun is hanging low Beyond thy portals in the west, Nightwinds o'er the waters blow Golden beams to soothe thy rest. 17 SANTA BARBARA DAYS THE POPPY Upon the hillsides, wet with dew, Where the morning and the night winds meet ; Upon the slopes that lead to you Are paths that alwaj^s will be sweet. Upon the airtide, fresh with song, WTiere the fragrance of the field is hung ; Upon the sun's bright flight along The hillside, cups of gold are flung. 18 AND OTHER POEMS ROSES Red rose of morning, Be jeweled with dew, Fragrant and brimming With incense for you. Gold Rose of Ophir, So subtly you smile. So loving and tender, I feel you beguile. White rose of evening. Thy soul is a dream, A solace in grieving When stars are agleam. Earth hath its burden. And man hath his pain, But I have my garden Of roses again. 19 SANTA BARBARA DAYS A CALIFORNIA GARDEN When the sun is high, And the shadows small, And the vibrant sky A pale blue wall, Our yard is filled with gold. When the night is nigh And the shadows grow, And the dark blue sky A rosy glow Our yard is purple and gold. When the dusk is by. And the flowers fade With the fading sky I hold each shade A dream in red and blue and gold. 20 AND OTHER POEMS COME TO ME Ah, come to me. Ah, come to me. The breath of spring is sighing Through the leaves and crying — Come to me. Ah, come to me. Ah, come to me. The sea is wailing on the shore ; The clouds are wailing evermore- Come to me. Love, come to me. Ah, come to me. Life is passing on the wings of day, Calling, calling as it steals away. Come to me. Come to me. 21 SANTA BARBARA DAYS SONG He: Were all the world a paradise, And thou, my love, were flown ; Were all the stars to greet mine eyes And thine were cold or gone. This earth would be forlorn. Together: We meet to smile, to kiss, to love, Our hearts are made as one. A fairy led us to this grove. And left us with the sun. She danced before so merrily, She beckoned on so cheerily. She fled away so eerily. And left us with the sun. She: I come alone, my heart afraid. Like the rosebud in the night. And deep within this sylvan shade I find thy face the light That brings to me the morn. 22 AND OTHER POEMS FAREWELL TO THEE Farewell to thee ! Farewell to thee ! The evening steals o'er land and sea, With murmuring soft sighs sweetly- Farewell to thee ! Farewell to thee! Farewell to thee! Thy melody falls upon my heart With wondering why we drift apart; Farewell to thee ! Farewell to thee! Farewell to thee! Thy pray'r for me like an angel's wmg, Bade me awake from my dreaming, Farewell to thee ! 23 SANTA BARBARA DAYS THE ELFS' DAY The Dawn Two little elfs were born one day Under a leaf in the woods. A beggar man was passing by, With saddened face and darkened eye. He laid him down upon the sod; They closed his eyes and watched him nod. He wandered on when morning came; His eyes were bright, his heart aflame. 24 AND OTHER POEMS Noontide One little elf had mended his heart, The other had woven a web of illusion, So the beggar man thought earth's fair profusion Was created only for him. They led him astray down a village street. His step was jaunty and proud. And a maiden, sweet as the fairest flower. Caught his eye and held him. 25 SANTA BARBARA DAYS Evening The two little elfs, quite malicious you see, Tied a strand of gold-beam around them, Then beckoned them on past a large oak tree, Atelling their hearts of glory to be. The beggar man held in the maze of his dreams, Kissed the fair maiden most sweetly, it seems. Then — ^the beggar man woke with a start in the night, And the little elfs cried — and cried — and died. 26 AND OTHER POEMS BEAUTY'S SORROW The song that lingers in the weary heart, Likt a fragrant wisp of hyacinth, Must know that when the soul is flown The memory is dead. The hurt that sears the inner vision, Until a blackened crisp is left, Blots out the trembling beauty Which dreamed of being seen. Out upon the hillsides, poppies flower, Until the waves of brilliant color Bewitch the eye and beckon him Who sees beauty — dying. And living on, unaware of thy sweet Abiding presence, rise the ugly commonplace Of men, made of Gold and Iron — Rise above thy tomb. 27 SANTA BARBARA DAYS The painter clasps thy form a moment, And in quick response you give him power To create, but — thy soul is vanished E'er he transposes thee. Unattainable by poet heart, Unknowable in manner part. Yet lingereth eternal out of reach Of men who need thee. Only those who dream may see thee. Only those who touch thy outer garment With the chaste kiss of dreams May ever know thee. 28 AND OTHER POEMS I AM THE WIND I am the wind that roareth so The doors and windows shake ; I live alone and where I go Man trembles while I take. I seize the breast of the sea, And the ridge of the land, Until she laughs and dances for me, And it flies like sifted sand. When the warm night lingers And the starlight glimmers high, I drive my frosted couriers Down from the north to die. Earth trembles when I breathe. Worlds obey my vain commands, Man tries my sword to sheathe, I laugh; his walls are paper bands. Where I live, there lives the free, Where I go there goes illusion. When I die, then dies eternity For I am master of confusion. 29 SANTA BARBARA DAYS A PICTURE The clouds of silver gray Change to old rose and gold At the close of day, And night grows cold. The distant mountains turn From purple to misty gray ; While lower clouds burn, The sun sinks away. Now the clouds grow darker ; The sky is deep o'ercast; Silver tints break through the dark- A star shines out at last. 30 AND OTHER POEMS THE MISTY CLOUDS The misty clouds drift cross the blue, Blown by the western breeze; The golden moon floats over, too. And silvers sighing trees. The singing birds have gone to nest, 'Neath leafy boughs or bush. And I must go to sleep and rest ; Soothed by the evening hush. But as I glide away to dream, I send this word to you ; The fairies know just what I mean, And you will know it, too. 31 SANTA BARBARA DAYS I DREAMED A DREAM Last night I dreamed a dream so fair, Last night I dreamed a dream. I thought I lived long years ago Upon a silver stream. A cottage stood so small and rare, A cottage stood so small. The palm trees closed the sight from view, The cottage, vines and all. Deep gardens 'round a shady pool, Deep gardens 'round a pool, Where water lilies sv/eetly grew So white and green and cool. No windows gleamed nor opened wide, No windows gleamed at all, But latticed doors swung to and fro Upon the leafy wall. I saw a sv/an, a graceful swan, I saw a stately swan Drift along the pool's green shore He rested so softly on. 32 AND OTHER POEMS Sweet music filled the languid air, Sweet music thrilling me From many birds of varied hue Aloft in ev'ry tree. But blending with the choral song, Like a slow refrain. Came melodiously your voice From one I could not name. I stepped behind a lilac bush To see the elfin sprite — A merry laugh, I looked — 'twas you Of whom I dreamed last night. Last night I dreamed a dream of you, Last night I dreamed a dream; You and I lived long years ago Upon that silver stream. SANTA BARBARA DAYS LOST YOUTH Oh, for the days when the world was young, And the stars and the birds and the moon Were bright with the joy that had not sung To a head bowed low too soon. Oh, for the days when thy face was fair With the hope of love in thy eyes. And thy radiant lips as rare As the sunset red in the skies. Oh, for the thought that leaps to heav'n, That flashes the soul's fairest word. That brightened the void at even When you sang to me like a bird. 34 AND OTHER POEMS AND THOU ART MINE Wish me well for all the earth is mine ; Hope that I may live a thousand years ; Smile with me with all that love of thine; Sing with me and let there be no tears. Wish me well for all the world is young; Bless me then with all that grace of thine ; Kiss me, love, and let our song be sung ; The world is young, love, and thou art mine. 35 SANTA BARBARA DAYS THE HILLS AT OJAI Over the hills at Ojai Walked we to the town; Passed the hills of Ojai, We then wandered down. Over all the mountains bare, And over all the vales. The clouds had gathered there To hide the Ojai dales. Singing loud and swinging free. O'er the hills of Ojai ; We were gay and we were three On the hills of Ojai. There was you and there was I, There was jolly laughter, Over the hills of Ojai Trailing us soon after. Over the hills at Ojai Walked we, oh, so fast To catch the soul of Ojai Revealed to us at last. 36 AND OTHER POEMS MATILIJA STREAM Singing and dancing and leaping, It ripples and glides to the sea; It laughs at the slow creeping Shadows of night in ecstasy. It mirrors the silver of leaves, Shimmering and rustling at dawn ; The gold of the sunset receives Magic reflection e'er night is drawn. It catches the long slanting rays Of the sun fast dipping to rest ; And elfishly caressingly plays New color notes for those who are blest. When darkness has closed o'er the vale. And quiet reigns mystic and deep, I can hear that stream in the dale Gurgle love songs that lull me to sleep. 37 SANTA BARBARA DAYS AT REST The clouds hung low, Rose of Ophir tinted ; Like gold of old swung the crescent moon ; The sea beat a low murmuring croon And our campfire opals fast v/ere minted. The wind rustled through the dripping leaves, Melodies of souls long laid to rest. Who sought impression on our heart's imprest With the unreality of verities. Far away upon the rim of nothingness Gleamed the yellow eyes of ships asail ; Beckoning to us in our travail To embrace the sea's forgetfulness. Night crept closer round our rendezvous, Whispers of the world articulate At last, sought our realm to compensate Our loneliness better than they knew. 38 AND OTHER POEMS ALCHEMY On the long, gray slopes, We saw the mist Sliding down on ropes That elves had twist. In their long, gray shrouds We saw them go. Riding on the clouds Who loved them so. In their long, gray fold The elves had found Secret place where gold Went round and round. 39 SANTA BARBARA DAYS FALL MOON The sycamores were mute. The hoot owl screached his hoot. A cricket played his tiny lute Beneath some warm, grassy root. The sycamores w^ere still. The mountains and the hill Were black as black could be until I felt the night winds' strange thrill. The sycamores shuddered, And their leaves were fluttered By this cold wind that muttered Strange words the earth had uttered. The sycamores listened While he roughly hastened, And then the dark sky glistened Like silver that is chastened. 40 AND OTHER POEMS The sycamores and I Knew what the wind did try To tell about the fickle sky. Its lover moon had come nigh. The sycamores were bright. The hoot owl fled from such light. The cricket chirped with all his might, And old world was gold dedight. So it \vas the magic moon Sent his messenger the loon To coax the wind to blow so soon Words that were not meant for noon. 41 SANTA BARBARA DAYS SUNLAND On the slopes of Sunland Looking towards the West When the sun drops downward O'er San Fernando's crest. In the foreground, warmly, Yellow and brown and red. Sage brush and greasewood grow. The vale is green instead. Eucalyptus trees are rich. Stately in their dignity; Luxuriant and glorious. They lift above the valley. Through a vista shows the wash, White or scintillate in gold. And the distance swims in blue. Ah, that is Sunland of old. 42 AND OTHER POEMS MOON MADNESS We were mad with moonlight, And mad as harlequins. We were filled with moonlight Till we were harlequins; Till we could feel the earth Swinging off through space, And all the myriad mirth Of stars that gave us race. The hay became a moonboat Upon a silent tide. And ev'ry time a star mote Flashed out from us aside It showed a path of silver, Upon the sky vault floor. We waved good-bye the Dipper Who spilled the Stardust o'er. The marble breasted ladies Who stood upon the hills Smiled down upon we crazies With eyes that gave us chills. 43 SANTA BARBARA DAYS We laughed and joked like madmen To gain their silent praise. But we were only moonmen Adrift on stolen rays. We heard some mystic whispers, And answered with loud shout That frightened those sweet lispers. They v/ould not stay about. And then their angry silence Sent us to sleep with fear. They made us weep with incense. They drew those ladies near. We were mad with moonlight And fooled like harlequin. But the ladies knew quite right That w^e were — cherubin. 44 AND OTHER POEMS NIGHT MAGIC Out upon the ground, with faces to the sky ; Far away the stars that peer at us and die. Suddenly the moon becames a ball of gold, And quells the night with gladness as of old. Close above our heads the oaks begin to talk. And upon the mountains, gnomes begin to walk. Far away the cadence of dripping water sings, And our souls go softly, upon their silver wings. 45 SANTA BARBARA DAYS WE SHALL NOT PASS We shall not pass this way again. Lets see If we Can remember every refrain That they Did play? You remember what the blue jays Flying, Crying, Sang at us in their queer ways, And I Will try To remember what the squirrels In their Mid-air Flight from limb to swaying limb hurls At me To be. Not again shall we pass by this Fair place Or face Such beauty or such sylvan bliss. We'll sing And sing. 46 AND OTHER POEMS SAILOR MEN We sail our boats to far Cathay, To Hindustan, to Mandalay; And every spot the old earth knows We sail our boats where the wind blows. We load them down with cloves and tea ; I'll ship to you, you ship to me. Wine and sugar and lead and zinc. And other names which make me blink. Down below the hot equator Niggers chase our worn old freighter. But we give him shot and shell. Sink him down so he can't yell. The Indians hide in their canoe. And chase around to frighten you. Just sail your ship and I'll sail mine. We're Yankee skippers of forty-nine. 47 SANTA BARBARA DAYS DUALITY In the moonbeam's dream And the sunbeam's gleam There is life for you and me. In the raindrop's call And the snowdrop's fall Lies our love's sweet destiny. In a blue sky's gaze And a dark cloud's haze, We strive and that is living. On a rose bud's stem Or the thorn on them We cling and still are loving. 48 AND OTHER POEMS SING TO ME, LOVE Sing to me, love, in the evening, When the rain is falling outside. For then I know in thy singing, The sweet note I knew as a bride. Like lovers, dear, on the bough. Wing to wing, cooing softly and sweet. To the mate that cannot know how. He echoes her heart-song complete. 49 SANTA BARBARA DAYS WHEN FALLS THE NIGHT Together, when the sun is gone, Up the shining highway to the hill Where the fields are the bond That welds the mountains to the sea- Up the highway, leisurely, Listing to the roadside songs. Lingering to catch a murmur Of some far-off childish voice. Rejoicing in the silence of the eve That brings so much of joy We may only smile and breathe. The mountains purple in the wane Of day, but for the utmost peak Where the sun puts a spot of gold. The eucalyptus trees stand sentinel Against the orange sky. The pines Are dim and cool in rough hospitality. What matters it that we are poor? In the enfolding bounty, riches Of all time are ours. No gold Gives more delight than the tresses Of the vibrant sky. We return, Enraptured by the love that both Revealed upon the hill last night. 50 AND OTHER POEMS RECOMPENSE An acorn dropped upon the ground, Where a lily grew so rare, The shadow of whose leaves were tound A refuge for the acorn there. An oak tree grew upon the place The lily once had known. But had the lily hid its face The oak tree ne'er had grown. 51 SANTA BARBARA DAYS REINCARNATIONS The day dies. The night lives For a few short hours — Then fades into day. The pale sky is pierced through By dim stars and the moon Rides across its path from star To touch the next star With gold. Then dies With the dying night. Beauty fades. The wan cheek Once blushed with the rose Which crumpled up and died. The bird that echoed her heart Song flew once more Then blessed the day no more With song. The grass withered On which her feet so softly fell. So wantonly life grasps At life that it must die. Yet its very strong desire Brings rushing back to earth That flitting soul from death, And newborn sighs to see Once more the old allure Of vanishing life. 52 AND OTHER POEMS I CAN UNDERSTAND I can understand. He sees me fail, He hears my laugh, He sees me cry. And then alone. He knows my heart. He knows my love Is groping blindly, And when I fall His arm is there To lift me up again. I can understand. I can understand. His divinity The more because Of love for thee. His patient care. His constant aid That patiently Planned eternity So all could strive Again and yet again For that they loved. I can understand. 53 SANTA BARBARA DAYS I can understand. Though you should hate And burn my soul In effigy, And then come back To me for love I'd pour the whole Stream of His love For me to thee And then rejoice As He has done. I can understand. 54 AND OTHER POEMS GONE ART THOU, BELOVED Gone art thou, beloved, Gone thy tender face, And silent thy sweet words. Flown art thou, my lover, Beyond this earth of ours. And silent is the day. Still I hear, beloved. Thy old, wise words again And sacred they become. Thro' the room which held thee Lonely do I ponder That silent is thy voice. Gone art thou, beloved. May the dawn bring thee here Where silent I abide. Bloom, oh, rose, blush once more. Greet the day with fragrance. Be silent— earth— be still. 55 SANTA BARBARA DAYS LIFE We drift along the swift current of eternity, On the broad bosom of its calm stream, Bobbing up and down, swinging to and fro. In and out of eddies and cool pools ; Basking in the sunlight as we glide; Held in the cold embrace of winter ice; Purling 'neath the boughs of new leafed trees That lean over us in dreamy passion To caress and kiss the lips of a wave upthrust. You and I, calm in all our multitude of dreams Glide on from out the far into the future. From out the fastness of the past Unto the bound and rigid waters Of the ocean of the ageless future. There we touch our hands to hearts, Our lips to lips and bid good-bye. But not forever, love, for in that sea. We still feel the unfathomed current Of our love, irresistibly drawing us, From out the far reaches of the infinite, To this delicious trysting place of now. And resting for the moment as we may. Upon the thrilling bosom of the main. Drawing our life from its vast love. We lie content and dream our dreams. The clouds pass over in darkling mood As the face of heaven frowns at our delight. But on we smile, dear, and see the change That comes in heaven, overnight. 56 AND OTHER POEMS As our souls are ix)ssed together, So together other souls are bourne, Until the great love-bulk of souls. Are joined in one indissoluble whole That fills the ocean, and laughs up to God, And He makes us other worlds to love on So great our love has grown and separate Each his life is, yet grown together. That one may conquer in the air Because the other half is anchored m the sea. Growing on our unselfish divination of love We dream of that sweet, riotous stream Whereon first we met, and bobbed and kissed Beneath the luscious branches of the willow, And how we clasped our arms to glide A-down some shining stone together And not be torn apart. This is life, dear, with all its joys; For sorrows are but sweets not tasted; Shoals of solemn, cold, delicious depths Wherein we see the bottom of the stream. And its life-giving recompense— eternity. 57 SANTA BARBARA DAYS L'ENVOI Beneath the flick'ring stars, We passed the solemn night, Till morning brought a mist That felt round the uptossed hills And shadowed them in gray. Beneath the alder trees Which wept warm, dripping tears That summertime and we Were leaving them together. In sad adieu in that calm way. In that calm way were these. Our haunted hearts reminded Of a year gone by; a day Of effort and of joyousness Beneath the weeping sky. Beneath the fervent spell Of your bright smiles we learned. As we tramped down to the sea. That lowly people, kindly faces And warm hearts were one. 58 AND OTHER POEMS Beneath the magic of the wind That wished through the sycamores We felt the richness of our years, And uttered pent-up hopes In prodigality. Beneath the weight of packs We felt the elves of witchery Turning back our lives to when The world was young, was strong. Was wonder-eyed before the dawn. 59