O F THIS EDITION OF THE TIDE OF LOVE BY THOMAS O’HAGAN, TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY COPIES HAVE BEEN PRINTED. THIS CHAP-BOOK IS A PRODUCT OF THE RYERSON PRESS. TORONTO, CANADA Copyright, Canada, 1 928 by The Ryeraon Pres* ♦i Dr. Thomas O’Hagan was born near Toronto, Canada, and received his early education in the Public School, at St. Michael's College, Toronto, and Ottawa University. His advanced studies were pursued in the United States and Europe. He is the author of five volumes of verse: A Gale of Flowers; Songs of the Settlement; In the Heart of the Meadow; and Songs of Heroic Days. Some of Dr. O’Hagan’s early poems were translated into French in Paris. His poetic work is represented in im- portant anthologies such as Dr. Rand’s Treasury of Canadian Verse; Mr. Caswell’s Canadian Singers and Their Songs; Joyce Kilmer’s Dreams and Images; Dr. Thomas Walsh’s Catholic Anthology , and Miss Alice Cooper’s Poems of Youth. Dr. O’Hagan resides at present in Toronto. For further data as to our author’s life and literary work see An Outline of Canadian Literature , by Lome Pierce (Ryerson Press). The Tide of Love By Thomas O'Hagan 4 » 4 * THE TIDE OF LOVE T HE tide of love is a tide of the sea, Measureless, infinite, royal and free; It sways on its crest the soul of man, And has lash’d life’s sea since the world began: Out of its mystery poets are born; Link’d to its chain is sorrow and scorn; It seeks the shores of returning love, Then welcomes the light of each star above. The tide of love is a despot kind ; It frees the soul though its fetters bind; Its dawn is a spark of the infinite soul; Its waves are the passions that shoreward roll; It greets the mystery of sun and star; It carries our dreams beyond life’s bar; Out of its heart, in an infinite plan, God fashions all life in the soul of Man. One WE’RE ALL CANADIANS W E are brothers to the mountains and the sea ; The prairies are our playground wide and free; Our birthright is a nation, fashioned by God’s hand, And the charter of our freedom is the aegis of our land — For we *re all Canadians! Latin, Saxon, Celt and Norman — let each reign; Plant each seed of racial splendor — sift the grain; In the furrows traced by time Ours will be a race sublime — For we ’re all Canadians! Light of star shall guide our barque Through the mazes of the dark; And the sun shall kiss our sails in the morn As we put to port, a Nation newly born — For we ’re all Canadians! ♦ + + THE GARDEN OF ST. ALPHONSUS W HERE slope the fields to catch the noonday sun, And Beauty crowns the landscape from afar, The river’s mystic tide sweeps on, in dream, Reflecting tree and cloud and moon and star. Here stands St. Mary’s, with its cross-crowned tower, Beckoning to souls — to pilgrims on life’s way; Rich in the things of God — a garden sweet, Fragrant with flowers of beauteous, smiling May. A seed from Scala bursts its petals bright. With breath and color of Amalfi’s Bay; Under our fair and chaste Canadian skies, It drinks the dews of Faith thro’ night and day. And writ across this garden tended well, Where Sacrifice has reared an Altar bright, The living word that crowns all Mission Work, REDEMPTOR — the world’s great hope and light. St. Mary’s College, Brockville, Ont. Two THE SILENT LISTS Sir Wilfred Laurier A LL is silent in the lists; Nor shock of steed, nor clash of brand ; Nor splintering spear, nor battle-axe; Nor largess showered from lady’s hand. In the dim aisles, where kneel the Knights, The Cross shines dark in mystic gloom; And as the clouds of incense rise A light shines o’er the Warrior’s tomb. ♦ ♦ ♦ THE CHRIST-CHILD A CROSS the waste, across the snow, 0 the pity! 0 the pity! Past sentinel of friend and foe 0 the pity! 0 the pity! Comes the Christ-Child clad in white, Through the storm-clouds of the night, Bearing in His lily hands Gift of peace to warring lands. 0 the pity! 0 the pity! “Adcstc fidelesl” sing the choirs, 0 the pity! 0 the pity! Lurid flame the battle fires, 0 the pity! 0 the pity! Shepherds hear the heavenly song, ’Mid the strife and piteous wrong; Peace on earth, but not of men. Peace that knows not crime nor sin. 0 the pity! 0 the pity! Lay your sceptres at his feet; 0 the pity! 0 the pity! Christ, the Babe of Bethelehem, greet. 0 the pity! 0 the pity! Legions stretched in battle line Saw the star and knew the sign, Yet forgot that Christ was born, Prince of Peace, on Christmas Morn. 0 the pity! 0 the pity! IN THE HEART OF THE MEADOW I N the heart of the meadow, where Love abides, And rules his Court as a sceptr’d King, Green-clad Knights, with dewdrop helmets, Pledge their faith and roundly sing: “Honor to him, our liege lord King, Who rules the air and the land and the sea; His throne rests not on the arms of Empire, But the hearts of his subjects so true and free!” In the heart of the meadow, where Love abides, Are royal courts and royal halls, And the gates are open and the bars descend not, As the warders sing on the outer walls: “Honor to him, our liege lord King, Who rules the air and the land and the sea; His throne rests not on the arms of Empire, But the hearts of his subjects so true and free!” In the heart of the meadow, where Love abides, Time fills the hours with a magic glass; For there is no dreaming and there is no seeming, Where the world is singing and the King will pass: “Honor to him, our liege lord King, Who rules the air and the land and the sea ; His throne rests not on the arms of Empire, But the hearts of his subjects so true and free!” * * + THE DREAMER M EN call me dreamer — what care I? The cradle of my heart is rocked ; I dwell in realms beyond the earth ; The gold I mint is never locked. Men call me dreamer — this, forsooth. Because I spurn each thing of dross, And count the step that leads not up A useless toil, a round of loss. Four Men call me dreamer — nay, that word Hath burned its way from age to age; Its light shone o’er Judea’s hills And thrilled the heart of seer and sage. Men call me dreamer — yet forget The dreamer lives a thousand years; While those whose hearts and hands knead clay Live not beyond their dusty biers. 4 * 4 * 4 * THE SONG MY MOTHER SINGS O SWEET unto my heart is the song my mother sings As eventide is brooding on its dark and noiseless wings; Every note is charged with memory — every memory bright with rays Of the golden hours of promise in the lap of childhood’s days; The orchard blooms anew and each blossom scents the way. And I feel again the breath of eve among the new-mown hay; While through the halls of memory in happy notes there rings All the life-joy of the past in the song my mother sings. I have listened to the dreamy notes of Chopin and of Liszt, As they dripp’d and droop’d about my heart and filled my eyes with mist; I have wept strong tears of pathos ’neath the spell of Verdi’s power, As I heard the tenor voice of grief from out the donjon tower; And Gounod’s oratorios are full of notes sublime That stir the heart with rapture thro* the sacred pulse of time; But all the music of the past and the wealth that memory brings Seems as nothing when I listen to the song my mother sings. It’s a song of love and triumph, it’s a song of toil and care; It is filled with chords of pathos and it’s set in notes of prayer; It is bright with dreams and visions of the days that are to be, And as strong in faith’s devotion as the heart-beat of the sea ; It is linked in mystic measure to sweet voices from above, And is starr’d with ripest blessing thro* a mother’s sacred love. Oh, sweet and strong and tender are the memories that it brings, As I list in joy and rapture to the song my mother sings. A SONG OF CANADIAN RIVERS F LOW on, noble rivers! flow on! flow on! In your beauteous course to the sea; Sweep on, noble rivers! sweep on! sweep on! Bright emblems of true liberty! Roll noiselessly on a tide of bright song. Roll happily, grandly and free; Sweep over each plain in silv’ry-tongued strain, Sweep down to the deep-sounding sea ! Flow on, noble rivers! flow on! flow on! Flow swiftly and smoothly and free; Chant loudly and grand the notes of our land — Fair Canada’s true minstrelsy; Roll joyously on, sweep proudly along In mirthfullest accents of glee! Flow on, noble rivers! flow on! flow on! Flow down to the deep-sounding sea ! Flow on! sweep on! sweep on! flow on! In a measureless, mystical key; Each note that you wake on streamlet and lake Will blend with the song of the sea. Through labyrinth-clad dell, in dreamy-like spell, Where slumbers each sentinel tree; Flow on, noble rivers! flow on! flow on! Flow down to the deep-sounding sea ! 4 • 4 » 4 * NOVEMBER C HILL-CLAD, cold November, Autumn’s drooping head; Weeping skies, psalm-like sighs, Nature’s cold, cold bed. Dead leaves fall before me — Hopes of summer dreams; Naked boughs, broken vows. Mirror’d in bright streams. Tatter’d robes of glory. Trampled by the wind; Faded rays, faded days, Floating through the mind. Days of gloom and sadness, Hours of sacred care; Lonely biers, bitter tears, Hearts in silent prayer. ♦ ♦ * RIPENED FRUIT 1 KNOW not what my heart has lost; I cannot strike the chords of old; The breath that charmed my morning life Hath chilled each leaf within the wold. The swallows twitter in the sky, But bare the nest beneath the eaves; The fledglings of my care are gone, And left me but the rustling leaves. And yet, I know my life hath strength, And firmer hope and sweeter prayer; For leaves that murmur on the ground Have now for me a double care. I see in them the hope of spring, That erst did plan the autumn day; I see in them each gift of man Grow strong in years, then turn to clay. Not all is lost — the fruit remains That ripened through the summer’s ray; The nurslings of the nest are gone, Yet hear we still their warbling lay. The glory of the summer sky May change to tints of autumn hue; But faith that sheds its amber light Will lend our heaven a tender blue. 0 altar of eternal youth! 0 faith that beckons from afar, Give to our lives a blossomed fruit — Give to our morns an evening star! JUNE J UNE! sweet month of hallow’d thought, Binding our souls to Him whose Sacred Heart Encompassed in wide love life’s chief est part; Nor deemed the guerdon of our souls too dearly bought, As with His Blood He sealed the Faith He taught; Filling the garden of our lives with flowers so rare That breathe the fragrance of His holy care, With toil inwoven and with prayer enwrought. Now in each garden bleeds the sweet-lipp’d rose. Type of the mystery of that Heart Divine Whose gift of love gave life to man, And water changed at Cana’s feast to wine. Sweet miracle of grace when our new year began That planted in life’s garden a flower for all our woes. * * * IN GOD’S TEMPLE G OD’S love encompasses us around Like fragrant breath of summer sea, Filling our hearts with joyous stars Set in their deep immensity. The Altar of our prayer and hope Slopes thro’ the darkness, bright, sublime ; The beads we tell are decades dropt Into the hands of ripening time. We count our lives by deeds, not years. And hold converse with all save sin; For day is bright and night is bright To him who hath true light within. God’s love encompasses us around In desert wild, on stormy sea; The magnet of His care we feel Drawing athwart Eternity! Eight THE RYERSON POETRY CHAP-BOOKS Lome Pierce — Editor THE SWEET O' THE YEAR By Charter G. D. Robert, COMPANIONSHIP AND THE CROWD By W. H.F. Jenny FORFEIT AND OTHER POEMS By Kathryn Mumo *THE EAR TRUMPET By Annie C. Dalton A VALE IN LUXOR By W. V. Ntw*m THE PROPHET’S MAN By Geoffrey B. RldJehouth SHEEP-FOLD By Leo Cox ♦THE SHEPHERD OF THE HILLS By Agnes Joynes BY COBEQUID BAY By Alexander Louis Fraser TWELVE POEMS By Esme 1 sles-BroWn SONGS FOR SWIFT FEET By Gostwich Roberts ECSTASY AND OTHER POEMS By Elaine M. Cathy BITS O’ VERSE IN SCOTS By William P. McKenzie DESTINY AND OTHER POEMS By Mary Maiheson FOWLS O’ THE AIR AND OTHER VERSES IN SCOTS By William P. McKenzie THE BATTLE OF ST. JULIEN By Kale Colquhoun SPENDTHRIFTS By Guy Mason THE TIDE OF LOVE By Thomas O' Hagan FRAGMENTS OF FANTASY By Nelda MacKinnon Sage Fifty cents ♦A POOL OF STARS By Lionel Stevenson SPRING IN SAVARY By Alice Brewer ♦THE CAPTIVE GYPSY By Constance Davies. Woodrow THE LOST SHIPMATE By Theodore Goodridge Roberts ♦A BREATH OF THE WOODS By Lilian Leteridge VAGRANT By Frederic ( B. Watt WHAT-NOTS By Geoffrey Warburton Cox TWENTY AND AFTER By Nathaniel A, Benson THE CRY OF INSURGENT YOUTH By Guy Mason THE POET CONFIDES By H. t J. Coleman LATER POEMS AND NEW VILLANELLES S, Frances Harrison ( Seranus ) Sixty cents ♦SONGS By John Hanlon ♦OTHER SONGS By John Hanlon COCKLE-SHELL AND SANDAL-SHOON By H. T. J. Coleman WAIFS OF THE MIND By W. V . Newson Seventy-five cents PAUL PERO One Dollar By R. D. Cumming •The Chap- Boole* marked with an asterisk are now out of print.