a^^;;: 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

_ ^ _ 

siieif.r.t3Z 1^3 



UNITED STATES OF AMEKIOA. 



^he gaU of the geaf. 



I. McC. WILSON, 




1^ 



GUSHING & COMPANY, 



i( 



BALTniORE. MD. 
1891. 






Kntered, accordin.t;- to tlie Act of ConKress, in the year i3gi, 

Bv I. Mt:c. Wii.sox, 
In the Office of the Librarian of C<.)ngress, at Washing-ton. 



Discite quomodo lilia aKVi'i"""! au.s<esccint. 
Dens hcrbam as^ri ita circumvestit." 

" We are spirits clad in veils, 
Man by man was never seen ; 
All our deep communing fails 
Ti) remove the shadowy screen." 



l\jt jfatt of tlje fcai 



Slowly and calml}^, through the milky haze 
That lay upon the woodland and the field, 
One noonday in October, warm and still, 
Wandered a lonely Seer. 

Hoary his head, 
Though yet unbent his form b}^ weight of years 
For after discipline of trials sore. 
Relenting Time had found him in his prime, 
Wrecked on the rocks of sorrow's rugged shore, 
And lifting him upon her strong, swift wings, 
Had borne him safely on through life, aloft. 
So gently that he never had perceived 
Her silent flight. But Avith a lowly heart, 
A single soul at peace Avitli all things else, 
And bearing benizons as beams the sun, 



6 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Ever upon some gracious mission bent. 
He went his lonely way. 

Lonely perforce; 
Whether amid the throng, or all apart : 
Since the}^ who see afar in mental realms. 
Who breathe pure Reason's cold, clear atmosphere, 
Have mounted summits of exalted thought 
To pierce the distance with their daring gaze: 
And mountain-peak^ must stand alone, or melt 
To the mere level of an upper plain. 
Thus, even Nature has a price affixed 
To certain of her wares. And evermore. 
In mental, moral, physical domains. 
The law is one ; always the world demands 
A tax of virtue. Though it serve all else, 
The penalty of excellence must be 
To dwell remote, even from the near, or dear, 
And find, where'er it lodge, the hermit's cell. 

Clouds there were none to shadow o'er the path 
Of the lone Sage : nor was there any gleam 
Of cheerful sunshine, kindly lighting up 
His silent way. Only the misty air 



FATE OF THE LEAF. / 

Was dimly luminous; and filmy folds 

Of the Madonna's gossamer unfurled 

In formless shreds of visionary grace, 

Which melted on the view. And whitel}^ glowed. 

Like a vast, heated pearl, the vault serene 

Of the high heavens, as when in that first day 

Of the creation's birth, God spoke the light 

Into existence, ere the sun appeared. 

Long lines of smoky hills, where Autumn's fires 
Fed, smouldering, upon the dying Year, 
Even before it breathed its latest sigh, 
Retreating, shrank away, and from their sides 
Thrust out the burning maples, all aflame 
With crimson, green, and golden lights, absorbed 
From neighboring growths, all wanly faded now. 
Boldly relieved against the ashen skies 
Loomed the grim figures of the fragrant pines ; 
In russet vineyards, on the terraced cliffs. 
Dark purple clusters, gathering their stores, 
Among the leaves ambushed their potencies : 
While on high boughs the red-gold apples shone 
Like stars, above the stony orchard-walls, 



8 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Which shut the wayfarer from their delights, 
As rise those walls of adamant that guard 
The happy Islands with ambrosial fields 
Where dwell the blest Immortals. 

Wear}' grown, 
And wooed by Nature's charming wiles, the Sage, 
Reclining, rested on a mossy slope; 
x\nd lingered, loth to leave so fair a spot: — 
A hill-side where adventurous trees came down, 
And, crowding, stood around a sleepy pool, 
And saw their variously graceful forms 
Reflected there, and wonderingly scanned 
The revelation of their loveliness. 
Then, gazing thence, across the fields afar, 
Stood still, in blank amazement rooted fast, 
Much marveling to find the world so large ; 
Much questioning concerning how and why 
Such vastness and variety of earth 
Could thus exist, external to themselves. 

Here stood the stately oak, the king of trees, • 
In regal robes, and burnished armor clad. 
Holding his court, though brief his time to reign, 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 9 

And taking counsel with his valiant squires. 
Tall elms stood by, princes of high degree ; 
And stalwart chestnuts, knights well-tried and 

true, 
Resplendent shone in golden coats-of-mail. 
Locusts were ladies in pale draperies; 
And mountain-ashes brilliant maidens fair, 
With corals decked, and graced with dark-green 

plumes. 
Cedars and pines as trust}^ warders stood; 
The sullen larch, on schemes of treason bent, 
With traitor's fingers beckoned to its mates ; 
A mulberry, with scrolls of curling leaves, 
Appeared as royal scribe ; upon this hand. 
Came trains of nut-trees bearing precious gifts ; 
On that, w^ere grouped dejected prisoners, 
A band of captive maples, in whose forms 
The w^ounded vassals of the Summer slain 
Drooped, bleeding at each pore. While all around, 
Lissome and lithe, in waiting humbler trees 
Obsequious bent, good servitors at need. 
In this brave company the thoughtful Seer 



lO FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Feasted upon the beauty of the scene. 

And drank deep draughts of peace, feeling the 

throb 
Of languid Nature's pulses soothing surge 
Through his calm soul. And as he idly watched 
The falling leaves that, ever and anon, 
Fluttered and swirled, or floating sailed, and fell 
Upon the mossy couch whereon he la}^, 
He mused upon the transitory state 
Of human life, and earthl}' joy and good. 
He pondered much and long upon the theme, 
So sad in minds of most, how mortal men 
Through all the ages come successively, 
In generations endless to recount. 
To live, love, suffer, for so brief a space, 
And then evanish from this mundane scene. 
Leaving no trace behind ; as 3'early pass 
The dead and fallen leaves of forests vast 
Out of existence, to return to dust, 
Blending their essence with the elements. 

As thus he mused, there smote upon his 

thought 



FATE OF THE LEAF. II 

A feeble ciy, that seemed a formless voice 
Ascending from the gronnd; a little thread 
Of tenuous, weak sound, that wound about 
His wandering sense, and .caught, and fettered 

held 
His wondering ear, and kindl}' soul, attent. 
A plaintive voice, so full of tears and pain, 
And wailing such profundity of woe. 
That startled leaves upon the boughs above 
Shrank up in shriveling fear, and fainting fell, 
And la\^ supine among their kindred brown, 
Who, shuddering, rustled, though no breezes 

stirred. 
''Death! Death!" the small voice cried, "Oh 

would that thou, 
Thy single self, couldst die, instead of all 
The helpless myriads who perish now, 
The victims of thy senseless tyranii}'! 
Though \'ain atonement were thy one dark life 
For all the countless hosts thy madness slays. 
"Dear Lord of Life! hast thou no power to 

stay 



12 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

The ruthless ravage of this frightful foe 

Whose Avautou will such desolation deals 

Among the fair creations of th}^ hand? 

Lord, it is horrible to perish so! 

To know the blessedness of conscious life; 

To taste the sweetness of existence; learn 

To know^ and love the beauteous world, and feel 

The ecstacy of being; the delight 

Of converse Avith a thousand forms of life. 

And vainly then to fade, and die, and sink 

Into eternal nothingness; to melt 

Into thin air, be whirled on ever}^ wind, 

And so, dispersed through boundless space, to 

pass 
Into oblivion ! Oh better far 
It would have been never to see the day. 
And know^ the gladness of the universe ; 
Or else to die, if die we must, with one 
Swaft, sudden stroke, unconscious of our doom!'' 

It was a fallen Maple Leaf that spoke : 
Prone, on the ground beside the Seer it lay, 
And moaned, and hid its bleeding, tear-stained 

face 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 1 3 

All soiled with dust and grime ; and sobbed, and 

sighed, 
Until, at length exhausted, it grew still : 
Its tremors ceased, and utter silence fell, 
As though the peace of death had settled down 
Upon the little broken heart at rest. 
But, as it oft befalls that Life holds fast 
With potent claim upon the form it fills, 
Unwilling to relax its loving clasp 
Upon the treasure that has grown so dear. 
So, in a little space the leaflet stirred. 
And softly, calml}^, sweetly spoke again. 

" Ah ! well do I remember," then it said, 
"That April morning when my life began. 
My conscious life of blessedness supreme. 
Which memory transmutes to pain as keen. 
In my bark cradle, swamg on yonder tree, — 

Home beloved! but lost forever now! — 

1 felt some sudden force that rent apart 
The curtains of the chamber where I lay. 
And woke me to the ecstacies of sense. 

With wondering thrill that asked if I were I, . 



14 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

And heard, and knew the answer, self-assured. 

"Then I was bathed in floods of living light; 
I drank delicious sunshine ; and the breeze, 
That wafted fleecy fleets across the skies. 
Came down, and breathed upon me, and I sprang 
With one strong bound, into that wondrous 

realm 
Where things external seize upon the soul. 
Drawing it forth through countless avenues, 
Until throughout the universe infused, 
It fills the utmost bounds of ample space. 
Thus, in the bliss that potent being brings, 
I reveled, till the joy became too great 
For one small heart to bear alone; and then. 
Incredulous with wonder, I beheld 
The millions of my comrades, all around. 
On every tree and bush, awaking, too ; 
And in glad unison, with swelling hearts. 
Together we rejoiced; and happier grew 
With each new morning's dewy dawn. 

"Ah, well! 
Those blessed days are gone ! Why should I vex 



FATE OF THE LEAF. I 5 

My fainting sonl, wh}' rend each shrinking nerve, 
With recollections of past happiness? 
What folly is it, now, to tell, or think, 
How all those bright and balmy days of spring, 
With warp of lines cernlean, absorbed 
From the clear skies above ns bent, and weft 
Of golden sunshine glinting throngh and through, 
We spun and wove our ga}^ green robes; and how. 
Arrayed in glorious attire, we sat 
Upon our own beloved boughs, and watched 
The growing splendors of each dawning day ; 
And saw the flowerets deck the gladsome earth ; 
And heard the tuneful birds rehearse their lays; 
And followed with our grateful gaze the sun. 
As he pursued his curving course on high, 
Pouring upon the world his vital rays. 
Or, when at even he had laid his head 
Upon his gorgeous pillows in the west, 
How, one by one, we saw the piercing e3'es 
Of the wide heavens unclose, amid the shades 
Of deepening twilight, for their faithful watch 



l6 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Tlirougli dead of niglit, o'er sleeping Day's 
domain. 

^'Wh}^ should I tell, liow in those solemn hours, 
When earth was tranquil, and all life la}^ still, 
We watched the starr}- hosts march o'er the sky, 
And blessed the gracious influence they shed ? 
How, when the meek moon swam the hea^'enly 

seas. 
And the light breezes swa3^ed us to and fro, 
With fluttering hearts we whispered to our mates 
Our tales and promises of deathless love? 
Or what, when darkness wrapped her deadly folds 
Around the world, extinguishing the da}^ 
And blotting out the night, was our dismay 
At loss of light, and promise of despair? — 
Until, at length, we learned that never 3'et 
Have powers of darkness permanence possessed; 
For light is ever stronger, and dissolves 
The fearful texture of their dismal forms 
In gracious balms, which but refresh and bless. 

''Therefore we shrank not at the storm's wild 
roar ; 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 1 7 

But loved the miglit}^ music rolling down 

The smitten arches of the iron skies 

In crashing thunder-tones. The lightning's 

gleam 
Sent thrills electric flashing through our veins : 
And when the mad winds raved, our myriad hosts 
Danced wildly to the measures that they blew, 
Like demons whirling in their frantic glee. 
So when the reckless rains, in their descent, 
Dashed flercel}^ in our faces, and were fain 
To beat us to the ground, with eager thirst 
We drank the streams of life which they supplied, 
Nor blamed them for their forceful energy. 
And when the storm had spent itself, at last. 
And morning dawned again ; when fresh and fair. 
And lovely and delightful, all things grew. 
We smiled our silent thanks; while happy birds. 
Exultant, caroled forth their gratitude 
To the great Giver of all life and good. 
"But why do I recall departed joys? 
Or why should I recount what next befell ? 
Alas ! I know not what it is that thus 



1 8 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Impels the utterance of my complaint. 
How should I know, ^vhose ver}^ senses fail, 
What quickens life, and quenches then its flame ? 
Who knows the secret of life's mystic spell? 
Why life enthralls us ? AVhy we cling to it 
With energies that baffle death's despair? 
Who knows all this, hapl}^ he understands 
What impulse prompts the death-song of the 

swan. 
To which all Nature swells the wild refrain: 
As forests with illuminations flame 
When all their light of life is d^dng out ; 
And setting suns emblazon on the skies 
Their glorious record of death-agonies. 
But all a simple dying leaf may know. 
Whose thoughts each moment grow more 

strangely dim, 
Is only this : When pent-up sorrows swell 
Within the soul, and the heart's walls are strained 
Beyond their utmost tension, and collapse, 
There gushes forth, without restraint, that flood 



FATE OF THE LEAF. ]g 

Of tears and life-blood, mingled, which hence- 
forth. 
No more retnrning, nevermore nia\^ flow. 

"So, in this stress I ponr ont my complaint, 
And all my hapless history relate. 
Though I would fain be silent, when to speak 
Is but to tell how, from the heights of bliss, 
I, and the comrades dear who share my doom. 
Have now descended to this sad estate. 

"x\lready, in bewildered grief have I 
Rehearsed the raptures of our natal hour. 
When the flood-tide of life swept o'er the earth. 
And birds and insects sang the Season's birth. 
Till the whole world rang with the harmony. 
Though we, dear Nature's most prolific brood. 
Were happiest of all, yet might be mute. 
Since all things came to us by Nature's grace 
That left us naught to pray for, nor to fear. 
Nor heed of grateful dues. But let this pass : 
Our bright, brief moments of felicity 
Transcend my powers to express ; and so 
The glad delirium of our happiness 



20 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Now and forever must remain unsung. 
While the sad stor}^ of our mortal grief 
Is hasting to its close, and soon my plaint, 
In utter and eternal silence stilled 
Shall cease forevermore. 

"There came a change. 
The summer days grew long, and scorching 

droughts 
Drank up the streams, absorbed the dews, and 

sucked 
The fresh, sweet currents bounding in our veins. 
All nature paused; and for a space it seemed 
That the whole world stood still. No breezes 

came 
To fan our fevered frames. No dews nor rains 
To quench the thirst by which we were consumed. 
The birds that in the spring-time, joyously 
Awoke each morning with their festive glee. 
Forgot to sing, but sat upon their boughs 
Brooding in moody silence. Then we grew, 
like all the world around us, careless quite. 
Listless we hung; and sleeplessly we dreamed. 
Confusing past and present, in a maze 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 21 

Of phantom fallacies. Whether awake 
Or sleeping, now concerned ns not; nor yet 
A\'hat might befall. Indifferent were we, 
And senseless; with no single waking thought 
Except a dim perception that each day 
The tardy sun, that later brought the morn, 
Walked not so high across the heavenl}^ fields, 
And sooner sank to rest. And that the days, 
Though shorter grown, in some mysterious way 
Contrived their course more sloAvly to pursue ; 
\Miile by the magic of this wondrous time 
Still longer nights succeeded ever}- da3^ 

''So this went on; and still no care had we; 
Naught we enjoyed; nor suffered; nor desired; 
But like to men to all appearance dead. 
Though still possessing each arrested sense ; 
Or as mere carved and conscious images. 
Suspended in an atmosphere of life, 
We seemed eternal in our fixed estate. 

''How long this lasted I shall never know: 
But suddenly a new experience came. 
For one gre}^ dawn the woods were all astir 



22 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

With baleful winds that blew in m3^stic tones 
Of warning, which we did not comprehend. 
Then gloomed the skies, and equinoctial gales 
Beat us with wings unpitying; the while 
In rains unceasing steeped, we bore the brunt 
Of such wild elemental strife as I 
Was sure no creature ever could survive. 
And certainh^ Death sped the arrow then 
Whose work I wait. 

''However, to my tale. 
The storms passed by, and Nature smiled again. 
Not now, with mother-love, as heretofore. 
But with a gleaming glance of treachery 
That we were all too simple to distrust. 
So, when upon the breeze there wandered by 
Strange whisperings ; and through the peaceful 

skies 
Long lines of dismal birds, with hollow cries. 
Sailed, ominous, awa}^ to distant climes. 
No portent heeded we, whose witless minds 
Knew not the dread realities of Death. 
Hence, I but grew exultant when I felt 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 23 

The fever of a sharp frost strike my frame 
And set my scanty, stagnant blood on fire. 
Then, soon, a new, fierce energy flashed out 
In our innumerable brotherhood ; 
And all our wonted vigor leaped to life, 
And each nerve tingled with sensations keen. 
As in the chill of the long frosty nights 
The fiery breath of Powers invisible 
With burning kisses stung us back to life. 
"What next occurred to us I cannot sa}-: 
I know not Nature's wondrous processes 
Whose seeming and whose meaning vary so. 
We had no thought of coming ills ; but next 
We soon perceived that from our shrinking veins, 
The bright blue tints, whose pure celestial hue 
The vernal skies so freely yielded us, 
Were paling, day by day, and fading out; 
Though yet the garnered gleams of sunshine 

shone 
In the ga}^ garments of our new array. 
And w^hen the strange fires burning in our 
breasts 



24 FATE OP^ THE LEAF. 

Blazed out in flames vermilion, and bedecked 
Our draperies with darkly purple spots, 
We thought this hectic flush, these fatal stains. 
The splendors of rare Tyrian dyes must be, 
Not, as they were, the livid hues of death. 
Such ignorant and stupid souls were we! 

" And if, ashamed, I now proceed to own 
The measure of our wild fatuity, 
I must relate how to our hearts this change 
Brought glad conviction that our time to bloom 
Had thus, at length, in season due, arrived. 
That Nature, through her laws beneficent. 
Was in this wise transforming us to flowers 
More gorgeous than those painted things that 

grew. 
All summer long, around us in the grass : 
Whom now, in scorn, we loftil}- despised. 
As with this joy our spirits grew elate. 

" Must I recount our further foll}^? Tell 
The tale of all our stark stupidity? 
It passes faith ; and much I marvel now. 
At such preposterous credulit}^ ; 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 2$ 

But true it is that after certaiu days, 
Delectable, thrilled with the glad amaze 
That we had reached development of bloom, 
There came a time when, wondering, we felt 
Our hold upon our parent stems relax. 
Which every motion threatened to detach 
From that dear spot where we so long had dwelt. 
Till finally we found ourselves set free; 
And then we fluttered joyousl}^ away. 
Imagining, poor idiots! that we. 
By Nature's favor, had been turned to birds. 
And henceforth we might fly from tree to tree, 
And soar into the skies, and sing such songs 
As w^e had listened to from happy birds 
That filled the spring-time with their melody. 
Then were we most exuberantly gay. 
Inebriate with the mellowed wine of life! 
Supposing in our sheer simplicity 
That such must be the method Nature takes 
In perfecting her numerous blest broods ; 
From lowliest forms evolving loftiest life, 
And giving each experience of all. 



26 PWTE OF THE LEAF. 

*'Ah well! But no; I will not call it well, 
When, surely, it was sore and evil case. 
As soon we found it, to our dire dismay; 
For after sailing on the sportive wings 
Of passing breezes, straightway down we fell 
Upon the solid ground; and there we lay 
In strange paralysis, between the strain 
Of forces from below that ever strove 
To drag us downward, and the crushing weight 
Of an immense incumbent atmosphere. 
And in the grasp of these remorseless bonds 
Securely held, we now can but await 
The final stroke that seals our destiny. 

"Shocked, startled, stunned, by stress of such 
a fall, 
For long I lay in silence on the ground. 
Expecting power to rise ; but only grew 
Stiffer and weaker each succeeding hour. 
Till hope died out, and cheerful courage fled. 
And vainly then I pondered o'er and o'er 
The problem of my useless, wasted life; 
The stupid cruelty of senseless Fate, 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 2/ 

To call US, causeless, from uonentity, 
And fashion us for life's exuberance, 
Only to cast us, causeless, back again. 
For as my strength each moment ebbed away. 
The fact was plain to me that Nature now 
Had quite exhausted all the store of force 
She once possessed to work within our forms : 
She had grown impotent, and left us thus, 
Merely to perish: she could do no more. 

"So I grew weary, waiting day by day, 
Without the power to stir; and wasting fast; 
Till gathering strength for one last weak attempt 
I cried out in nty bitterness of soul, 
And wildly called on any Power that heard 
To tell the meaning of Life's m^^stery; 
And send us help ; and comfort our poor hearts 
With hopeful cheer ; or else with one quick breath 
To quench the tiny spark of vital flame 
Which lingers but to lengthen out our woe, 
And end this mocking and delusive dream 
Miscalled our Life. 



28 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

''x\nd then, at last, outspoke 
That solemn pine-tree yonder; and his words 
Of heartless cruelty, in icy tones. 
Have crushed all hope, and driven me quite wild 
With the dread frenzy of a last despair. 

'' 'O Maple Leaf,' he said, when I had paused 
For lack of breath to voice ni}- speechless grief, 
^Why strive against inevitable fate, 
Or so insanely mourn your destiny. 
For which the whole world has no remedy? 
Is it not far the wiser, better course, 
With calm and patient courage to submit, 
W hen one has come to helpless evil state ? ' 

''I answered not, for there was naught to say. 
And he resumed, in cold, sepulchral tones, 
And chilling whispers, that congealed my tears, 
The while I, gasping, listened. 

'^' Maple Leaf,' 
With soughing voice he said, ' I have stood still, 
Growing perennial, in this same spot, 
For years and years unnumbered ; sighing low, 
In ecstac}' of fresh vitalit}' 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 29 

Through summers long, amid the burning heat; 
And through still longer winters shivering 
With bitter, crushing cold. Oft have I seen 
The summers brighten over wood and fields ; 
And I have watched as oft the glorious sun 
Shorten his journe}^ through the cheerless days, 
Too weak to mount his wonted altitudes, 
Till I have feared that he would lapse and die, 
And Nature's system sink in chaos dire. 
But while I stood half-dazed in dread and doubt, 
Wrapped in the fleecy furs that Winter throws 
Around my shuddering shoulders in the gloom. 
And pondered, wondering, he has returned. 
And brought the light and life of earth again ; 
With wealth of vital energies in store 
For the new^ Year that followed in his train. 

'' 'So, as the years rolled by, I have beheld 
Uncounted generations of frail leaves, 
As like to you as you are to yourself. 
As you have done, spring from the parent stem, 
To shine awdiile in beauteous brilliancy. 
And then to perish in stern Winter's doom. 



30 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Like you, through oue brief season they endure, 
And know the bliss of life ; and then like 3^ou 
The3^ fall ; and waiting lie until the frost, 
Whose lightest touch alone you felt last night. 
Burns all the tides of life left in their veins, 
Making them shrivel in its frozen flame, 
And crisply blacken, like those tinder shreds. 
For sulphur, flint, and steel, prepared of yore. 
"'And then the howling winds of heaven let 
loose. 
Drive them in wild career along the ground. 
And whirl them into hollows, far and nigh ; 
Or fling them down where foot of man or beast 
Crushes them into graves of softened mold : 
Or in what chancing hiding-place they drift 
The rains, and suns, and frosts, dissolve them soon. 
To nothingness; and they exist no more. 
Your parent stem lives on, being like me 
Endowed with immortality. And he, 
With each returning season, will produce 
Another generation of gay leaves. 
As man 3^ seasons he has done before ; 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 3 1 

And tlie}^ will fade and fall, as you but now 

'Have faded and have fallen : and they too 

Will perish, as the others have, and as 

Of course 3'ou must. You are not: and you are: 

iVnd soon you are no more. That is the whole. 

The yearl}^ suns successivel}^ return; 

The earth in verdure fair again is clad; 

But for the Leaf, it perishes. The whole 

Is constant; though the individual, 

In the forms manifold that Life evolves. 

Is like the bubble bursting on the sea, 

Appearing, perfect, for some little space; 

Then nowhere; and another in its place. 

So life proceeds ; and so the world goes on. ' 

'' So spake he ; and so ceased. And though to me 
No faith remains in any form of Power ; 
No hope in aught existing anywhere; 
Nor love for anything but Life alone; 
Yet, day and night, grieving incessantly, 
I feebly cry, and humbly supplicate 
My Maker, and the sun, and fateful stars, 
The heavens, the dew-distilling clouds, and all 



32 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

The potencies of the whole universe, 
Beseeching them to spare to me the gift 
Of my existence. Unto Life of Life 
I rave in mad, importunate appeal 
Not to Avithdraw itself from my embrace 
And blot me out of being. 

''Vainl}^, too. 
With imbecile invective, I impugn 
The weak creative energies that lack 
Ability their fabrics to sustain. 
I scoff and mock at their fatuity, 
In working blindl}^ all the ages through, 
Onhr to let the ages following 
Annihilate the products of their skill. 
While to all else I add the potent plea, 
That, inasmuch as I have done no ill. 
Nor ever broken one of Nature's laws. 
But have performed each prompting of her will, 
There is no reason w^hy I should incur 
The penalty of Death. And in the name 
Of Justice, I demand ni}^ right to live! 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 33 

''And yet, in spite of protests and of praj^ers, 
I feel my life-blood oozing fast away ; 
The fountains of my being drying wp ; 
Its every function consciously decay. 
I shrink and shudder, by my fate appalled, 
As slowl}^ and more slow the pulses throb 
Along my veins ; and fast the daylight wanes ; 
And weaker grows my every wasting sigh ; 
And fainter falls each echo of my cr}^, 
My one wild, futile cr}^ for life, sweet life! 

'' O Life ! dear Life ! though close I cling to thee, 
And long, and pra}^, and supplicate, and beg 
This only boon, that I may still exist, 
To drink thy nectar-chalice, evermore, 
Throughout the ages of eternity, 
Yet here, upon the Earth's cold bosom prone, 
Thou leavest me to famish and expire." 
Then the voice ceased. 

"Nay, nay," exclaimed the Sage, 
Awaking with a start, " I did but dream 
This gruesome dream. And sureh^ it is strange 
That for the truth the mind in sleep accepts 



34 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

That which the waking thought deems fallacy. 
Truly, I know not why one ever should, 
Though he be sane, become irrational, 
^Merely because the avenues of sense 
Are closed to things material. Nor wh}^ 
In slumber, thus the Mind's grave sentinels 
Basely betra}^ the citadel of Truth. 

''And, certainly, one needs but look to see 
That ever wise and prudent Nature wastes 
No life of leaf; nor anything that grows. 
For in her plan for sustenance of life. 
Through vegetative growths and processes, 
The leaf is but a tool wherewith she works. 
And when her ends benign have been achieved 
In the development of vital food 
For all the creatures of her teeming world. 
She simply la3^s aside, through her brief night. 
The instruments, now needless for her use, 
Whereb}' her offices have been performed; 
Kindh^ releasing them from servitude 
To elemental liberty again, 
While she enjoys a season of repose. 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 35 

'' But as for the Leafs life, it does not die : 
Nothing but life can live ; nor could aught else 
Lose a vitality it ne'er possessed. 
The substance of the leaf but undergoes 
The loss involved in change of state and place : 
As lifeless, organized material, 
Its particles of water, earth and air, 
A close relationship with life sustain ; 
But when this bond of union is dissolved 
The atoms seek their kindred kinds again, 
And, in diverse conditions, still remain 
The same continuous identities. 

''The Leaf, objective, known in realms of 
sense. 
Seeming alive, is merely mineral, 
And of no potency of life possessed. 
Nor individual capacity 
Of separate existence in itself: 
The one life, whole and indivisible. 
Belonging to the tree, which weaves the leaves 
About it, in a robe of verdancy. 
As though I had a hundred thousand hands, 



36 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

And round about my fingers I should twine 
The meshes of a glove of silken green, 
Infusing it with my owai vital force : 
Then, as the warmth and motion of my hand, 
Extending through the glove, would use its form, 
Making its senseless substance seem alive, 
So does the vital essence of the tree, 
Pervading all the substance of its leaves. 
Work in and through their forms, until its task 
Has been performed; and then it merely draws 
The fingers of its leafy life within; 
Casting aside its now unneeded tools. 
Yet losing nothing of vitality; 
As I withdraw my fingers from my glove, 
And toss it down, unneeded or outworn. 
While I, myself, remain, intact, the same. 
''The deathless spirit of the living tree. 
An entity indissoluble, dwells 
In the tree's form, complete: no broken branch 
Can mar its symmetry, whether displayed 
In garb of green to gaze of human eyes, 
Or in no guise of sense it be expressed. 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 37 

The iinconsuniing flame of life may glow, 

Octaves beyond the limits of our sense, 

Too purely and transparently, for us 

With clay-born sight its presence to detect, 

Lighting those forms of animated dust 

That brighten Earth with loveliness and bloom, 

Which else were but a desert and a tomb. 

But Forms of life phenomenal are not 

Essential Life itself: they are no more 

Than the mere dress which Life may don or doff; 

The habitations where it dwells, and grows. 

And wakes or sleeps, and works its various will. 

While to the senses of our walled-in souls 

It shadows forth the things invisible. 

" Yet he who sees with vision beyond sense 
May watch, with inner sight, the tree's true Life, 
What time it shakes its myriad fingers free. 
As folding close its strong, unsundered arms. 
The weary spirit of the lofty tree 
Bows its proud head, and slowly sliding down 
The towering trunk that coffins it in vain, 
Sinks gently to its rest beneath the sod, 



^S FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Where undisturbed by discords of tlie day, 
And warmly wrapped in snows of softest down, 
It dreams of past accomplishment, and hope 
Of future growth and grace ; till Nature's voice 
Calls it again to work of waking life. 
In a new cycle of beneficence. 

"And furthermore, the spirit of the tree 
Is to no fate of isolation doomed, 
Even through Winter's desolating reign. 
For each umbrageous growth is but a part 
Infinitesimally small; a point 
Most insignificant; a digit low; 
The fraction of a fraction most minute. 
Of Nature's vast and venerable scheme 
Of vegetative life that yearly lies. 
Not dead, but dormant, under marble snows. 
Sleeping away the season's dreary night. 
With friendly arms outstretched and inter wined,. 
Hand grasping hand, in the fond clasp of love 
Whose strength supports the world. 

" For but one life 
Breathes in the vegetal creation ; all 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 39 

Its pulses from the heart of Nature throb; 
One life-blood fills all vegetable veins ; 
One spirit quickens all; and all its growths, 
Whether they yield of fruitage kindly store, 
Or only wealth of foliage and bloom, 
Are but the fingers multitudinous 
Which many-handed Nature thrusts each year 
Up through the mold, to bathe them in the light. 

"And even so, feeding upon the food 
Which only vegetation can produce. 
The one sole sustenance by which the life 
Of higher creatures is made possible. 
The animal to this same life is joined. 
Basing its life upon the life below. 
And but subsists in unity therewith. 
So, also, from these vital sources fed, 
Transmuting in himself all lower lives, 
Must man with them be ultimately one; 
While by his better side with angels joined: 
And he, and they, and all created things. 
Draw life from God, and live and move in Him, 



40 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

And share in Him the one and onh^ lafe 
Which holds the Universe in unity. 

''And shall the Architect who formed the plan 
Of this fair world, and then so wondrously 
Developed its diversities of good, 
His skill exhausted, lack ability 
His marvelous creations to sustain? 
Or, after having planned and w^orked his will, 
Esteem his handicraft so valueless 
As to condemn it to nonenit}^? 

"Oh fools, and blind, to judge your Maker so! 
For he who formed the fine-veined leaf, and sent 
The tiny currents tingling through its bounds, 
Who rolled the leagues of forest on Earth's 

shores. 
And gives the impetus to Ocean's tides; 
Whose pulses beat in ever^^ lustrous star, 
And surge throughout infinitudes of space. 
Can scarce be thought to find a greater task 
In restoration of his ruined works 
Than, at the first, creating them had been: 
Nor deemed, from his displays of potenc}^. 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 4I 

Ever to fail in his experiments; 

Nor yet, either to be incompetent 

To guard his creatures from destructive foes, 

Or else, his works so lightly to regard 

As wantonly to waste the wise results 

Of his omnipotent activities. 

" Proud Man, indeed, who did not make himself. 
Nor one small atom of the world create, 
Who cannot tell whence life originates. 
Nor find the line where mind and matter meet, 
Wisely pronounces that no Being else 
Has done what he, himself, could not perform. 
But that the system, complicate and vast, 
Of this great Universe, has been evolved 
By nothing, out of nothing; and itself 
Impels its own development; although. 
With generous intention, all things work 
To the one end of Man's supremacy. 

^'But what a more amazing thing can be 
Than for frail man to take the powers bestowed 
By his Creator, and complacently 
Against the Giver turn their energies ? 



42 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

God's finger starts the warm blood's vital tlirob 
Through the cold hearts whose love he seeks in 

vain. 
He keeps the red streams circling through man's 

frame, 
Which, if they stop, none else can start again. 
And it is God's indulgent fatherhood 
That furnishes the force electrical 
Working in human consciousness, whereb}^ 
His children may his sovereignty defy, 
Though stones and stars alike his will obey, 
And all things, finally, must own his sway. 
When through Life's maze, now so misunderstood. 
Shall be revealed the M\^stery of Good. 

'^Wherefore, no tender leaf need fear to fade; 
No trembling sparrow fear lest it should fall 
Unheeded to the ground ; nor aught that breathes 
Should hesitate to yield its vital spark. 
At the behest of Life Omnipotent; 
Letting the Form it wore disintegrate, 
And calmly rest in elemental death, 
Till God shall please its spirit to restore 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 43 

x\nd quicken it with gladsome life once more. 

For naught that lives, and keeps the vital laws 

Impressed upon Creation, need expect 

Worse fate than due returns of day and night, 

With periods of labor and of rest : 

Since life proceeds from God alone, and is 

Part of his Spirit, indestructible. 

" Nor need the splendid stars that wheel through 
space 
Yield to despair, though in the lapse of time. 
All black and rayless the}^ ma}^ grow, and sink 
To some far corner of the universe. 
In the cold gloom of awful night to lie ; 
Nor yet one grain of sand anticipate 
Eternal dissolution; forasmuch 
As all things, everywhere existent, form 
Component parts of one creative plan. 
And are the members in particular 
Of the one Body of the Universe. 
And, therefore, each may patiently await. 
However long its coming be delayed, 
The rhythmic flood of energy divine 



44 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Whose ebb is prophecy of future flow: — 
That tide whose swift recurring intervals 
And slowly solemn surgings have combined 
Their various measures, through Creation's term,* 
To mark the strange and complicated time 
To which is set the Music of the Spheres. 

" But, least of all, should most exalted Man, 
The image of his Maker, shrink with dread, 
When called to lay his mortal body down 
To sleep awhile upon its mother's breast. 
Until the pulses of the Life Supreme, 
Returning, throb through his immortal part. 
And wake him to another morning's light. 
For he alone, of Earth's inhabitants, 
Is Son of the Most High, and is not left. 
As lower creatures are, in ignorance 
Regarding ages that are yet to come ; 
But, as befits his station, he has had 
A revelation of the brighter da}^ 
To dawn upon the world ; when through the Life 
Of Him who suffered to redeem his world 
From sin and death, man, too, shall live again 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 45 

111 a new life of fresh activity; 

With garnered strength from night of needful rest ; 

And with the wisdom of experience, 

To which the world's career of sin and pain 

Has made him rightful heir. 

"And since, besides, 
To this sure word of prophecy divine. 
Wise Science adds its testimony true, 
That all the energies of potent force, 
Though they may change, must in some form 

survive ; 
While from the universe no atom small 
Of matter's substance ever can be lost : 
With his assurance made thus doubly sure. 
Secure in his existence, Man may rest. 
Though in the grave his earthly body lie 
Beside the leaflet's fragile form, and all 
The brotherhood of ashes and of dust: 
Content with them to inolder back to clay. 
Alike to furnish food for other life. 
As other forms had furnished food for them : 
And so, in lowliness, await the hour 



46 FATE OF THE LEAF. 

Of joyful resurrection, when the strife 

Of finite with the infinite shall cease ; 

When, through our errors, we have learned to 

live 
In full accord with universal laws, 
Making life constant and immutable, 
And the dry bones of our Humanity 
Immortal life put on ; for only so 
Can death be swallowed up in victory. 

"So, when Man fadeth, like the grass, away, 
Whether the bed whereon he rests be made 
Beneath the shadows of celestial walls ; 
In deepest hell ; or in the sea's abyss ; 
Or in some cave of earth's remotest bounds, 
The all-pervading Deity is there: 
And underneath his pillow he may feel 
The comfort of the Everlasting Arms, 
While peacefully he sleeps away the scars 
That sin has burned upon his erring soul ; 
And pangs of past mortality become 
The recollections of a fitful dream, 



FATE OF THE LEAF. 



47 



Warning his future Self from evil ways 
Lying athwart his endless destiny. 

" Then shall appear the day when faith will turn 
To knowledge absolute, of Love divine, 
Which fills the measures of immensity. 
And wraps the boundless with its ample folds : 
And God, in his Creation, shall be known 
As Good Supreme, eternally expressed." 








Sn!^>!^y. °^ CONGRESS 

018 482 446 2 










iW