IPS 3519 |.E645 07 1922 [Copy 1 H^lf^ti??!;!'!!!''' .1 -ir.'. ' I A- 11' ,! , . ' '1 ! i;;;'. ! H*r',!: Class __. J Book.-f,( o4n )0l GopynglitM"^ na.£. COtVRIGHT DEPOSm Series of First Volumes : Number One OPEN SHUTTERS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT Many of the poems included in this volume have appeared in The Open Road, The Lyric, S4N, The Pagan, Voices, The Lyric WeSt, New Numbers, Tempo, American Poetry, and the Boston Transcript. Also, two of the poems are included in Wil- liam Stanley Braithwaite's Anthology of Massachusetts Poets. Copyright, 1922 by Will Ransom >j c .. C 'i vn 22 ©CI./ GB 103 4 To GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY Poei and Friend open Shutters AWAKENING This wind, cold and purple-edged, cuts little holes in my soul, deep jagged holes criss-crossing in blood-red lines. Before this, it was diflferent, this wind — before this it was sensuous, gentle, caressing, soothing . , Before this, you were here too ! open Shutten 6 BUDDHA Before a golden shrine, Massive with light, Glittering, Dazzling, There stood one day a priest Of Old Cajinga And many people. Bowing, beseeching, Salaaming, whimpering, Mottled orange, violet, red, green. All mingling in homage. So gorgeous, entrancing. So ancient, alluring And the Buddha frowns. Incense rises perfumed. Wreathing in ringlets, Purple, Curling, Pungent with sandalwood. Music floats in the air. Soothingly Oriental. open Shutters 7 So mystic, enchanting, So bizarre, amazing And the Buddha frowns. The priest kneels In suppHcation speaking, Rumbhng, Groveling, Hollow words sans meaning To the green god. Majestically impressive And carven of jade. So secret, astounding. So solemn, imposing And Bill the Buddha frowns. open Shutters SPRING FEAR Dear Heart, when spring comes back each year, it seems Once more to kindle hope and joy anew And once again I live my youthful dreams. Giving my unabated love to you. The softened music of an April rain Playing hushed nocturnes through the apple trees, Deep-purple violets firinging the lane — Oh, we have grown old along with these. And yet, somehow I have a dread of springs That grows more poignant with the passing years ; Once I was filled with joy for new-born things. Now I sit quietly, hiding my tears ! LOVE AUTUMNAL My love will come in autumn-time When leaves go spinning to the ground And wistful stars in heaven chime With the leaves' sound. Then, we shall walk through dusty lanes And pass beneath low-hanging boughs And there while soft-hued beauty reigns We '11 make our vows. Let others seek in spring for sighs When love flames forth from every seed; But love that blooms when nature dies Is love indeed! Open Shutters 9 open Shutters 10 REGRET Slowly, I climbed the narrow, winding lane, A lane of magic, as it was that night In May when you and I, our hands clasped tight. Went up together; and I felt again The dew-cooled grassy slopes, and heard your voice : "Live! live!" you cried, "love is the best, not power. Or fame, or worldly things. Love blooms a flower For golden Youth to pick. 'Tis yours ! Rejoice ! " Ah! if I had not turned and answered, "No," My Hfe would not have been mere emptiness . Below, the town lay wrapped in peacefialness. The stars, the fields — they had not answered so — They still remained the same as when you said, " Rejoice ! " and I said, " No "... and now you 're dead. INGRATITUDE It seems so queer — so wrongly queer To walk along this moon-flecked way And find the flowers in blossom here — How can they stay ? Not one lone birch tree bows its head And silver poplars have grown higher Since when she walked with silent tread And eyes afire. This was her road — she loved it so ! Each flower kissed her fairy hands ; And now she's gone — can't something show It understands? Open Shiitten 11 open Shutters 12 APRIL TRYST I will return, when April sings again In wavering half-tones to the sleeping hills, And silver clouds have left warm drops of rain Lingering in cups of moon-drenched daffodils. I will return, when soft-eyed Spring returns, And all the world is rustling with her wing, When cooling winds bend modest green-clad ferns And kiss dead grasses from their slumbering. I will return, for how can I forget That night of love, born in the swooning blue Of April ? I have not forgotten yet And some such night I will return — will you? HOME-COMING Now that you are coming home Will the syringas kneel White and reverent? Under a dazed moon you have caressed them ; In the chill rain you have given your kisses, Night after night, Coming down the long path, Loving and fearless, you have opened your heart. Now that you are coming home Will they kneel White and reverent? Open Shutters 13 open Shutters 14 ON AND ON On and on Through the arches Of the mist-wrapt bridge The angry waters Swirl unceasingly. Faint sprites Of sundust Sprinkle the air With perfumed hopes. Dreaming of youth And adolescence Pale-hued Venus Comes into the west Hesitating and blushing As though to hide From the sun's last rays. And still the waters flow Sometimes calmly Sometimes frothing But always On and on. open Shutters 15 TINSEL I used to think the world to be A tinsel ball of revelry. A place of joy and happiness Where one might laugh with carelessness. A world that flung its night away And tolerated only day. Within whose arms the harshest voice Was soft and sweet as though by choice. I quite forgot a tinsel ball Is crushed as if 't were not at all ! open Shutters 16 EYES Deep violets with a hint of poppies flaming through a mist of moon-spun willows dripping wet pearls from silver leaves. ii Brown tassels of corn weeping after rain fearful to raise their plumes lest the passionate sun leave them dry and withered. iii The gods of Olympus holding solemn court in a blue pavilion with openings where the glint of steel strikes through occasionally. open Shutters n SPARKS Always upward The glowing logs Crackling and sputtering Throw their fiery cinders To the great blue happiness Of nature. Twisted chairs and sagging lounges Heavy with glittering costliness Stretch themselves Like lazy tigers In pure contentment. And all these things Within the room Look on and wonder As each new spark Flies on its way. Yet there is no sound Nor stir of stagnant hope From chair or lounge To do the same. For they like men Can look and look And yet they do not see. open Shutters m BURLEY )VOODS Dreamily — Sleeping woods and a cool wind blowing, A flowery slope where life is glowing . Faster, with a swing — Green willows bend And intertwine Above a winding lane. Where fragrant scents Of fir and pine Come like celestial rain. Pale diamond spears Of sunlight thrust Their way through every space ; Tall grasses wave And brush the dust With slow majestic grace. open 'Shiitten 19 And overhead An oriole Alights and srans to sing. As shadows dance And soft clouds roll And leaves keep whispering. Softly, almost a whisper - A shady path, Far-reaching trees . Where else is beauty Such as these? open Shutters 20 THE OLD CATHEDRAL Solemnly, Sadly . . . The Old Cathedral Chants a midnight warning Through its clinging robe Of spectral fog. Wavering lights In the street below Shimmer with frenzy Like gems on the inky cloak Of an ugly demon. A door of glass , Tinkles As if in mockery To the raucous bark Of an angry dog. open Shutters 21 Coasting On the sleeping air Comes the shrieking tone Of a policeman's whistle Interrupting a waterfall Of incensed voices. And all is silent Once more While the Old Cathedral Chants to the hovering fog Solemnly, Sadly open Shuctvn 72 RUPERT BROOKE In Observance of His Birth, August 3, 1887. Sometimes I feel his presence at my side To view this life that once he found so fair, While through the still and fragrant summer air Sweet chords of music drift and fireflies ride. And then, perhaps, he speaks of things held dear, Of rainbows, flowers, and footprints in the dew ; Such things which all the world should love, he knew. And tells to me— and I — I love to hear. August 3, 1920 /IN OLD COLONIAL HOUSE Standing in ironical silence. White, green-shuttered and haughty. It remembers the fading past And shudders at the comparison. O/iPi/ Sh»ffpi< 2i open Shutters 24 TRANSPLANES From Washington and Winnipeg, from cities east and west, Great 'planes go flashing through the blue on high and distant quest; Deep amber-hued and flaming red, with eyes in front and rear, The mammoth, swarming transplanes speed round the hemisphere. Far above the murky clouds that warn of storm below, They waver not a second, but fast and faster go ; They drone high over field and farm, across the southern skies. And roar above the ranges where snow like silver lies. Piercing through a bluish haze along a lonesome trail With a whizzing, dream-like plunging they nose-dive down a vale. Then out across a river, near by a city's towers Where pale-green parks and crimson roofs seem bits of summer flowers. Coasting back from northern lands, ice-capped and dazzling white, The broad-winged, whirring transplanes go flashing on their flight. Over seas and prairies throughout the world in quest From Washington and Winnipeg, from cities east and west. Open Shutlen 25 open Shutters 26 POPPY-TIME IN THE ARCTIC The cliffs of ice are singing as the wind sweeps softly by, The air is filled with music of the people of the sky And barren lands are laughing with a smile of purest gold For it's poppy-time in the Arctic and the world has just been told. The long cold night is over and the day has come again To cheer the hearts of northern men with comfort after pain; And what if one has suffered at the strength of the wintry blast ': There's an end to gloom in the Northland and the end is here at last. Just cups of yellow sunshine — but xhey mean so much to me Way up here in the Northland where a man is really free. For one may see the dawning with God at every hovu: Of the only peace that is truthful — and it lies within a flower! SONG Open Shutters 21 Let me be great, as stars are great, Singing of love, not of hate. Love for sweet and simple things Like clouds and sea-shell whisperings, Cool autumn winds, pale dew-kissed flowers. Thin coils of smoke and granite towers. Snow-capped mountain peaks that flash High above the river's crash. Shrill songs of birds and children's laughter. Soft -grey shadows trailing after Sunbeam sprites that seek the woods And lose themselves in solitudes. All these I '11 love, never hate, And loving them, I will be great ! open Shutters 28 ROMANCE ORIENTALE A Song of Morocco Belle nuit, nuit d 'amour Speed on, Moktar Bey! The moon gleams white on the crumbhng wall. The suk-stones ring as the sharp hoofs fall, Ta' ala! ta' ala! why do you crawl O Moktar Bey! Alcazar lies in purple sleep, The mosques rise high from the grotesque heap, Ta' ala ! ta' ala ! why must you creep O Moktar Bey! For in a court of a thousand flowers, A lady waits my coming, Her red lips meet like twin rose bowers, And softly she is humming : helle nuit, nuit d' amour, belle nuit, nuit d 'amour . . Mohammed lives! the minarets Are painted black in silhouettes. Faster ! dear comrade, ere the moon sets O Moktar Bey! Of course, it hurts — the long, long ride With sorocco winds burning your side; But, comrade, ta' ala ! we have not died O Moktar Bey! There lies the court of a thousand flowers. See ! she waits my coming. Her red lips meet like twin rose bowers, And softly she is humming: belle nuit, nuit d' amour, belle nuit, nuit d' amour Praise Allah! O Moktar Bey! Open Shutters 29 open Shutters 50 CONVENTION When I catch a glimpse of you, An irritating glimpse of you Turning some distant corner, My body gives a sudden twinge And I want to run Shouting your name. But ray companions Continue their empty discussion Of indemnities And foreign trade In the same calm, monotonous fashion As before; And I remain listening. open Shutters 31 CYNICISM Day by day, I have watched them from a window, Building a mansion towards the sky, Strong beams and granite blocks, Windows, doors, shingles, blinds, I have seen them assembled piece by piece, And now it is finished; Nothing can conquer it, they say, Neither wind nor fire — It is the best that money can buy. And yet I must smile. For in my heart A strong house has crumbled to ashes. open Shutters 32 THEME FOR STRINGS I have found a paradise In a far place Where the wild-rose dances With wind-blown grace. High upon a sleepy hill Watching the sea With the cool grass singing A song for me. Yet, it 's such a lonely place To dream in long; There 's so much beauty And so much song! INTERLUDE The fragrance of violets is on my lips. I have flung aside the tapestry of passion. Outside, The heat hangs sullenly over the streets Like a huge monster tantalizing its prey Before striking. Gruff voices and shrill Clash in the air, Rising from the dust and sweat Of their birthplace. Violets in scum.-' ... I wonder. Open Shutters 33 open Shutters 34 PORTRAIT She comes to this bridge on misty nights in May And watches the river go rushing to the sea, Sounding Hke some bass instrument, Grumbling a song of discontent Instead of ecstacy. And through the long, damp, desolate hours, While stars glow dully like summer flowers Glimpsed through a dusty window-glass, She walks with carefully-measured tread And low-bowed head, Within a cool arcade. Solemn and staid Of sea-sprayed jade, Pausing a while With a wistflil smile As a church-bell chimes From a dome of light Marking the town. Hidden from sight In the dark, gloomy mass Of the fog-gray night. open Shutters 33 The scent of wet lilacs sweetens the air, The chirping of crickets is everywhere. It seems almost that the night has a voice, A faint, ghostly voice that is calling: ■'Rejoice! Dance and sing! The trees are green And whispering With mad desire And youthful fire In honor of reigning spruig!" open Shutters 56 TO AN EAST SIDE KID Dazzle 'em, kid ! Dazzle 'em ! Don't go Like the rest To the scrap-heap. You 've got charm, little girl ; You 're long on looks ; They belong to you — They're yours! They 're your gift, They 're your pride. Better And more valuable than wealth. Get out in the world ; you can 't hurt it. Ease out of the slime, the dirt, the filth, And play! Smile, little girl ! Dance, little girl ! Sing! Laugh ! Live! Dazzle 'em, kid ! Dazzle 'em ! open Shf/tten SO IT GOES Continually boasting Of her distinguished ancestors, And walking as haughtily as a goddess On the downtown streets She made one feel Like a pebble Next to a marble pillar. But three nights ago In her father's Italian garden . Her barriers were completely shattered ; And strange to say Her kisses were no different from a shop girl's. open Shutien ^8 NIGHT SCENE There's a sort of trembling quiet In a long, white road Under the moon. An avenue of whispers Where trees, standing gaunt and solemn, Dangle their leaves like fingers At a passing breath of air. It is a place of lovers' dreams. Of hallowed memories on silver feet Tinkling through the cool light of the moon Like the sound of a crystal waterfall. Only a drunken god Can walk boisterously On such a road In the dead of night. IN SALEM TOWN Quaint gabled houses squat and frown Along the streets in Salem Town, And meeting elm-trees sway and nod In memory of those who trod The winding streets in days gone by When gay romance lured men to die. What must they think this modern day When things rush madly on their way Along the streets in Salem Town Where gabled houses squat and frown ? Ojmi Shutters 39 open Shutters 40 TO A DEBUTANTE Why should I adore you — You have never cried For outdoor beauty — - You have lived inside. Lived in stuffy parlors With gossips and tea, Flaunting rich laces And silk hosiery. Tell me, is there beauty In a smoke-iilled hall, In painted faces With an empty drawl .•* God! will you never Love the south wind's croon Or run out naked To dance with the moon? PASSIONALE Dance for me, O moon-maiden ! Writhe your body like a serpent ! On the cool sands Keep time with the waves Dance for me ! You are a sword-flash in the star-light, A white moth beating its wings against the sky . Toss your head! Quiver with passion ! I am your lover, your betrothed, I am your master, your lord, Dance ! Dance for me! Open Shutters 41 open Shutters 42 SNOW Through the cold night, The wind howls and the snow falls incessantly. Tears of death Making the trees silver, The streets ghastly, And the buildings like corpses under white sheets. In the houses the ruler is sleep, In the streets only the arc-lights are wakeful. Both inside and outside there is no sound save of the wind gnawing and tearing on its way. Whoo! whoo! it shrieks And little children, wide-eyed, draw up soft blankets and shiver. While ever the storm roars Louder — fiercer and the snow falls incessantly. Open Shutters 43 open Shutters 44 ETCHING Her eyes were like cold rapiers Clashing In flames of bluish green Which made the conscience Stand still, as in a great cathedral, And ask: How have I sinned, O Lord? open Shutters 45 IGNORANCE Along the street the people pass And see the world as a looking-glass Reflecting themselves as they go by Tilting their heads to the sun-washed sky, Proudly snug in their gilded spheres, They stalk like monarchs throughout the years. But oh, how little those people seem When viewed at night by the pale stars' gleam, Just petty frail parts of a cosmic thing, They live and die ere blossoming, Never to know that greatness sings Not in heads, but in hearts of things. open Shutters 46 THE WORLD There was laughter, and song, and rejoicing. The night of the Mardi Gras, And the air was quivering with music And the white Carmelia. Now the laughter and song are forgotten. The flowers have withered away ; For the world is ever a cynic And joy is but for a day. open Shutters 47 WARNING Oh, I have kept a room for you Wherein my love waits young and free, And through the open door looks out On those who pass by yearningly. And you may enter when you will And do as you most like to do . But don't forget to close the door Or someone else may enter, too ! open Shutters 48 SONNET Perhaps, when I have tired of loving you, Have lost desire to kiss your curving lips Or smooth your tresses with my finger-tips, And have decided once more to renew The old familiar life among the hills That hump their backs against the granite sky, And am alone with the old nonh wind's cry And the weird, hollow sound of far-off rills — Then I shall wish that I had loved you more And shared with you my joys, my hopes, and fears. And all the beauty that I scorned before Will come and haunt me through the barren years, And loving you too late, I '11 keep on sighing, Dreaming a thousand deaths, but never dying. SERENATA Across the sands, I heard the blue waves singing, Singing a song of ecstacy. And while I walked, the monotone was bringing Its beauty to the soul of me. And though my songs are sung with mortal vision, And each is but a passing thing — If sometime I should sing with sea-born passion, The waves might try remembering! Open Shutters 49 This is the first book issued from the Private Press of Will Ransom at 14 West Washington Street. Chicago, U. S. A. 245 copies on Whatman hand- made paper have been printed from type on a hand press, and the type distributed. Design, lettering, composition, and presswork by Will Ransom, -with the assistance of Edmond A. Hunt. Binding by A. J. Cox & Company. Presswork finished Febru- ary 27, 1922. This copy is Number -^'^ -' Deacldifled using the Bookkeeper pre Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium Oxidi Treatment Date: C C D _BBRREEP1 PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIE: 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drwe Ctanberry Township. PA 16066 (724)779-2111 LIBRARY OF COMGRESS inn 1111'' I'll: I'll! 'Ill: !lll' ill I nil, I' V ,,,n Vi^ \\\ i ilHiililllSi.