PS 1 079 ® The Unseen House By Sylvester Baxter TWO HUNDRED COPIES ONLY OF THIS LIM- ITED EDITION HAVE BEEN PRINTED, EACH NUMBERED AND SIGNED BY THE AUTHOR. THIS NUMBER IS r / u| ilA<£x^tI> /i>^t^f2tX- THE UNSEEN HOUSE THE UNSEEN HOUSE AND OTHER POEMS SYLVESTER BAXTER BOSTON The Four Seas Company 1917 ^-^*' Copyright, 1917, by The Four Seas Company The Four Seas Press Boston, Mass., U. S. A. m II 1918 ©CI.A4818()8 /IaC t- TABLE OF CONTENTS I '^^^ Foreword 7 i . The Unseen House 13 At the Public Bath 18 Blue Waters 24 Coals and Ashes : 1916 30 The Vortex 31 Dream — or Vision ? 37 Father and Son 41 Friends at War 45 War Posters 49 Recruits 5^ The Returning 60 Good-will and God's Peace 63 FOREWORD AS TO POETRY AND FORM When the poem begins to take shape in the poet's mind it seems to select its own form. If the form be dehberately selected in advance the effect must be that of the sophisticated, the self conscious. The circum- stance that much of the work in this volume is writ- ten in free verse, the oldest of poetic forms, suggests a few words about form. Despite its ancient origin, free verse today is perhaps the most misrepresented, misunderstood, and to no little extent abused, of all forms. Certain aspects of form, the more definite aspects, largely rest upon purely arbitrary considerations. Yet these non-essentials are the matters most in contro- versy. They are matters purely of arrangement, as of line-lengths, and even of the common distinction be- tween verse and prose. To the blind, for instance, their appreciation of poetry depending upon hearing instead of sight, and equally to those who cannot read (as the public of the primitive poets, the bards and minstrels, could not read) it can make not the least difference whether the lines of a poem be long or short, or even whether the verse aspect vanish utterly, and the lines run on as in the psalms of David. There is need of another word for the proper con- sideration of the contrasting aspects of poetry and prose. At present we are also obliged to oppose verse and prose, and the unfortunate consequence is that [7] 8 THE UNSEEN HOUSE poetry and verse are popularly confounded. Much prose is also poetry : imaginative prose, prose that embodies the poetic essentials of rhythm, cadence, and perhaps even rhyme. Such prose easily becomes verse, metrical and rhythmic. On the other hand verse faultless in rhythm., meter and rhyme may be hopelessly prosaic, without the slightest suggestion of poetry. But what we call poetic prose is true poetry. Line-arrangement, or verse, whether regular or "free," finds its real service in guiding the eye and conveying a clearer perception of quality, a better sense of structure, while assisting vocalization. The line suggests a pause at the end, a pause that may be al- most imperceptibly slight. This aspect of structure is widely disregarded in much of the free-verse ar- rangement of today, with effects of incoherence, of scrappiness. Free verse, in its rhythm, its cadence, its adjustment of line-lengths, demands an attention to technique as painstaking in its way as in the most highly finished regular forms. One has but to look at some of the manuscripts of Walt Whitman to appre- ciate how great was his devotion to technique. In the free-verse forms contained in this volume the author has aimed to obtain the qualities of nature- cadence suggested by such sounds as that of running water, the liquid notes of water dropping into a pool, the voices of the wind — sound-sequences in which, however irregular the impression, there appear to be certain definite rhythmic recurrences. THE UNSEEN HOUSE 9 There is one conventional aspect of modern English verse which transgresses the rules of clear perception and does much to impede natural expression That is the custom of beginning verse invariably with a capital. This tends to interrupt the continuity of thought demanded by the continuity of the sentence. The more logical Latin mind has adopted the sensible rule exemplified in modern French and Spanish verse, of limiting the capital letters to the beginning of the sen- tence And since free-verse particularly demands this continuity in expression, the reform has been adopted for the poems of that character contained in this volume. The Unseen House was suggested by the extra- ordinary beautv of the new home for the Perkins In- stitution for the Blind on the banks of the Charles m Watertown and the circumstance that its beauty was not directly manifest to the sightless ones for whom it was built. The poem first appeared in the Boston Evening rranscrlpt At the Public Bath, written in 1889, was contributed to a special publication issued bv the Boston Press Club. Dream or Vision and Good Will and God's Peace appeared in Unity; Father and Son in the Westminster Gazette, London; Friends at War in the Evening Mail, New York; War-Posters in the Boston Herald; The Returning in the New York Sun; Coals and Ashes in the Christian Endeavor World. TO THE MEMORY OF SAMUEL GRIDLEY HOWE THE UNSEEN HOUSE God builds a house for the soul of man, But Man knows not he dwells therein. A BLIND ONE SPEAKS : How strange the things we often hear: those words that must be full of sense, The thoughts that others comprehend — and yet they stand for things unknown, For things zve may not hope to know. They tell of things called beautiful: For us who cannot see, the term depicts this well beloved place. This pleasant terrace where we stand— - where summer breezes kiss our cheeks, And where the genial sunshine falls and bathes us with its friendliness. Here spacious walks invite our steps ; a fine-grained marble balustrade Protects the outer side ; wide stairs lead down unto the landing-place Where boats await to bear us out upon the river's trancjuil tide. All this means beautiful. And yet to others this dear home of ours [13] 14 THE UNSEEN HOUSE Enriches with its attributes the precious word with meanings strange Far, far beyond our power to think. For me 'tis like some lordly ship With splendid cargo laden deep — the better part of which remains Intangible except to those who're gifted with that other sense. I think of words like "golden glow," like "sunlit towers," like "glittering gates." I think of gold, its delicate response unto my finger-tips ; Of burnished gold — or velvet-faced as though with finest dust bestrewn; Gold liquified and molten warm for pouring over sunlit towers And washing down (as water flows) to wet with fire their glittering gates; Of wine made full of dusty gold for charging sunsets with their glow. Can others see things in the way I feel the sense of words like those? A while ago two visitors came hitherward and sat themselves Upon this bench where now we are, while I, unseen, lay in the sun Hard by, behind that lilac-bush. THE UNSEEN HOUSE 15 They were of those that have that sense Which builds for them another world outside the one that we do know. I wonder what 'tis like ! One said unto his friend: "How strange it seems That this palatial edifice of generous and stately halls — Its cloistered courts all graciously designed to gratify the eye, And so exalt the vision, like an anthem hewn and carved in stone — Should builded be to domicile these sightless ones : a vast abode Whose comforts make it home for them, but whose high beauty in design Is wasted for unseeing eyes, just as the rose's perfumed breath For one without a sense of smell, or as a glorious symphony's Melodious weavings fail to reach the ears of those who cannot hear. Of what avail for them is this fair landscape as it spreads away Before this ample terrace, while the sparkling river flows and loops Itself in gleaming curves across the meadow-levels to explore Mysterious distances until it comes at last to where awaits i6 THE UNSEEN HOUSE To welcome it with open arms the boundless sea? "What can they know Of all this glorious excellence of sightly objects that rejoice The vision in a place where dwell the visionless, where lifts itself Majestically dominant, its sunlight-gilded pinnacles To heaven aspiring, yonder tower? Where many sights delectable Array themselves to constitute so rare a show of beauteous things That here they seem a mocker^'? "And yet to weave these vivid threads Of visibility throughout the fabric of the daily lives Of those for whom they naught can mean is after all a blessed thing. For in the message that it bears to us who have the light to read The inner meaning of the words it bids us learn, there also lies Another message, meant for them that cannot read the words of it But who, when of the wonders told the lavish world displays for us — (The undiscernible attributes of marvellous things that fill the void THE UNSEEN HOUSE 17 Of that dark sphere wherein they grope) are thus drawn out beyond themselves, Beyond the circumscribing bounds that hedge them in; and so impelled The endlessly expanding realms of soul and spirit to explore They strive to reach the glorious goal where sightless ones at last shall see." The strangers rose and went their way. I wish I knew what all that meant ; What all they said may signify. But truly may it not well be That the finer grains of sense we have must compensate for what we lack : Equivalent to what their sight may mean for them? And furthermore May there not even be, beyond their wondrous world where things are seen A world of senses yet more keen, where they who dwell therein enjoy Transcendent pleasures, marvellous, beyond compare with aught we know — • We, whether blind or blest with sight? AT THE PUBLIC BATH An Idyl of the Tozvn Here is the pviblic bath that the city has made for the people ; here on the edge of the bay, a gravelly beach gently shelving, and the southerly slope holds the sunshine that heats the bare flats to make warm for the swim- mers the incoming tide. Here the clear waters dance in the soft summer breeze, beating their lively staccato on the float, on the plat- form and piling, when the tide is high, and the wind sweeping freshly across the wide reach of the bay and the level salt marshes- subsiding again to a vitreous surface that languidly creeps with the ebb or the flow in a calm. Here all through the summer this place is a province in Nature's benignant republic. Close by is the town with its unceasing turmoil, its fierce competitive warfare, its pitiless crushing of bodies and souls in the mills of its traffic, its festering evils induced by the barbarous scramble for bread and for gold. [i8] THE UNSEEN HOUSE 19 But here for the moment is toil left behind; all care is forgotten, pleasure prevails and peace rules the scene. II. Across the wide space of the bay, where the yachts gaily float like bevies of sea-birds, the aqueous tints end and a carpet of green is out- spread for the feet of the distant great hills, majestic in mantles of purple. Here is true democracy ; all are made free, are made equals and brothers. And because of these terms all manner of persons come hither, obeying the enticing call of the summer sea — and to heed that behest means to yield all distinctions and stand but a man among men. III. Here comes a young fellow: the son of a banker; he leaves with the keeper his well filled purse and his costly gold watch, hires a towel, takes a dressing-room key, and dofifs his fine garments in the neatly kept place. In the adjacent compartment a youthful mechanic undresses; beyond, there's a stalwart young teamster who hurriedly strips off his clothing; 20 THE UNSEEN HOUSE and there also are clerks, day-laborers, and school- boys. Outside on the platform swarm dozens of urchins who shed in a twinkling their scanty attire ; they carelessly leave it wherever it chances to drop. IV. Returning their keys to the keeper, who hands back a disc inscribed with the numbers to wear round the neck on a cord of elastic, all hasten alike to the water. Tn rank or in wealth no difference now exists for the eye. The youthful mechanic, shapely and gracefully poised, might pass for the brother of his fortune- favored neighbor, who, trained to an athelete in the college gym- nasium, steps forth from his doorway with face, neck and arms richly browned by his yachting and boating throughout the long summer. Down to the water they run side by side; in friendliness they laugh at the first cool touch of the lapping wave; together they plunge for the joyous embrace of the mother-element's welcoming arms; and then as companions they bravely strike out with lithe and supple motion. I I THE UNSEEN HOUSE V. What lusty enjoyment on every hand! Divers leap from the raft, taking the water in rocket-like curves, sheathing themselves in the liquid as into its scabbard slides the blade of a sword. Boys noisily splash, churning the water to foam and ducking each other, their merry shouts echoed back by the waves that blend them in watery babble to a part of the same nature-music. VI. Those lads and young men who are running and plunging, swimming and floating, standing there kissed by the sunshine, their bodies all glistening with the wet of the waves and healthily flushed by the gentle smite of the ca- ressing water, varying in delicate tints conveyed by inherited hues from ancestral races — some a warm olive, some a rich brown, beside the prevalent ivory tones — all intermingling here in this land, prophetic of vigorous American stock . . . with all these hundreds here, 22 THE UNSEEN HOUSE what looker-on might so discerning be as unto each respective to assign the station or rank they may hold among men while thus they stand in frank equality — as equal each to each they came into the world? VII. Yet there are distinctions sharply marked in this or that misshapen feature, or stunted growth, or pallid tinge from malnutrition : profanements of the Master's handiwork wrought by poverty's inflictions and direful stress of toil. Still — the day must surely dawn when the curse of this blemish shall vanish — as the tonic touch of air and sunshine dispels a blight most foul. Then men throughout life shall be equal and free, each lending a hand to his brother, as today, here and now, for a moment they stand — prophetic the symbol they give us — in the pure democracy of the bath. VIII. A curious desire arises: a longing for the power to strip our human kind of all extrinsic things and let men stand together without discrimination — princes with peasants, THE UNSEEN HOUSE 27, with paupers the proud of purse, the lackey erect beside the lord, savage together with civilized man — and then annihilate their bauble havings as one might gather up these various garments here and toss them all into the sea ! IX. But even now the inner eye, true-seeing, crystal-visioned, may surely view humanity in this unerring way. Eor all superfluous things from us must fall when sooner or later we plunge into the bath of Death to emerge with naked souls unabashed in Eternity's air. BLUE WATERS Insistently my thoughts return to Mexico : those days of young manhood, days steeped in sunlight; feeding my soul with the beauty that blesses a land which was meant for mankind at its best — and marred now by man at his worst. My memory is filled with manifold pictures. When 1 lecall them the music of Spanish speech weaves it- self throughout the scenes I knew: music as from brooks unseen in a woodland — rivulets of words in a golden flow, words whose very sounds convey the essence of their sense; sonorous words, meltingly rounded and melody bearing. Again I look from the heights as in days long past. I stand at the tableland's verge and I see afar off — far — far. . .into the dimness of illimitable distances: vast valleys, whose level floors are lakes of hazy at- mosphere, drowsing in warm tranquility. Beneath in the vaporous depths extend the regal haciendas — sugar-cane all golden green, emerald rice- fields, thousands of acres of tender young wheat, in- tervals of yellow stubble left from the harvested flax, dark islands of glossy-leaved trees studded witli buildings of dazzling white. As I look down upon them the wide cultivations are softened by glorified tintings into magnificent tapestry carpets; bathed in [24] THE UNSEEN HOUSE 25 palpitant, sun-shot air, they show like opalescent shallows among the palm- fringed islands of Carri- bean waters. Huge land-waves roll off to meet wet billows down in the Gulf, or im Pacific waters, where at last the mountains submerge themselves — their stupendous undulations richly robed with tropical forests. Unseen from the heights, sweet waters course through joyous valleys — unseen, except where ven- turesome streams make daring leaps in flashing white- ness down into chasms all brimming with shade. Again they hide in sheltering woods — but now in vain their concealment ; rose-hued rivers of blossoming trees that grow on the banks of the streams wind like the crooked wake of a tacking ship through the sea of the forest and betray the ways of the waters below. Profound allurements entice me ; I yield and des- cend. And there I seek out the hiding waters ; they are calling and calling in liquid Spanish, meltingly rounded and melody borne. I discover the lusty young rivers that have leaped from the hills, their banks of velvety verdure splendidly starred with butterfly orchids. The waters are sweet — though they've taken their toll from the rocks to be paid to the sea. Their mineral burden heightens their buoyance, sustaining a swimmer like ocean water; in return it dyes them 26 THE UNSEEN HOUSE a deep and luminous blue: the blue of Swiss lakes, the blue of a tropical sea. That is el agua acid : the blue water, holy to Mexican gods — not the borrowed blueness, lent in sky reflec- tions ; ever constant is the color to the earth-imparted hue ; it loyally holds its vividness beneath gray cano- pies of low-hung clouds that ride with the steadfast trade-wind — clouds driving inland from the ocean to drape the mountain-slopes with mist ; blue through all the sylvan gloom of bosky tunnels where verdure- hung vaults are paved with a polished translucence ; blue in silent river-reaches, motionless as mirrors of glass ; blue as of turquoise veined with quartz, through murmuring intervals of swift unrest; blue in cav- ernous depths where daylight sifts down through festoonments of blossoming plant-growth — here strangely weird the cerulean hue when beneath the flash of flaring torches, the bodies of bathers, floating in gloom, show in luminous blue pallor, ghostlike through the water's blackness ; blue that glances and merrily dances, sunny as Saxon eyes, when in eager escape from the cave the river dashes again into the open day and tumbles in jubilant bounds over the brinks of giant clifi^s to fall in a filmy fabric of water and air, lightly wreathed with foaming lace as it veil^, rock-faces disguised w^th moss-covered masks. So I and my comrades roam through the valleys where run the blue waters. We bathe in the rivers. THE UNSEEN HOUSE 27 dive in the wonderful pools, swim in the caverns, and splash in nude sport where the rivers come tumbhng down from the tableland heights. And there, while it falls the water calls out the name that was made for its filling: el salto del agua, el salto del agua, I hear it incessantly calling. Thus the voice of the waters come running together in flowing Castilian— meltingly rounded, melody bearing and melody borne-repeated again and again to fall from the tongue in liquid delight, weaving its words throughout my Mexican pictures until o them- selves they dance into orderly sequence and tell what they say in a song:— The Leap of the Water Agua azul! — And 't is azure-blue water, The hue of the skies in the crystalline pool- There are plumes of bamboo, there are marvellous margins Of maiden hair lace-work above the swift salto, El salto del afifwa— the leap of the water— Azure-blue water, Agua azul! Agua azul! — And 't is azure-blue water, The hue of her eyes in the amethyst pool Where the turbulent river makes merry commotion, 28 THE UNSEEN HOUSE Boiling and foaming below the high salto. El salto del agua— the leap of the water — Azure-blue water, Agua azul! Agua azul! — And 't is azure-blue water ! Young laughter resounds in the tropical pool Where boys gaily plunging in frothy blue turmoil Are showered with the tingling delight of the salto. El salto del agua — the leap of the water — Azure-blue water, Agua azul! — FRIENDS AT WAR COALS AND ASHES: 1916 Adventuring in golden glory (Half dreaming through an olden story, Romance wrought from ancient ways) I sit before my open fire And hark me hack to knightly days. But while on glowing coals I gaze New flames leap up — and in their glare The crumbling logs shozv ashen there. Then old-time romance fades away, Its glowing fabric turning gray Before the unrelenting blaze That rages through these tragic days. THE VORTEX I. Imponderable as thought, the tenuous envelopment of spirit — enfolding the world and saturating it throughout, endowing its every particle with the potency of life- is real as the water is, as actual as air. Inconceivably sensitive, a medium responding to slightest impulse of will or thought (as radiographic waves, intangible, transmit intelligence from world's end to world's end), the mightiest of forces are there eternally at work, manipulating the moulds wherein the forms of all vitality are perpetually recast, and unerringly directing human destinies. These all prevailing potencies may be aroused to action by a single breath of human passion. Hence it came to pass [31] 32 THE UNSEEN HOUSE that within that realm which enwraps this world there gathered together — like vultures expectant of carrion — the ominous forces of evil. United by discord they sang: The Moment! The Moment we long have awaited J It lieth at hand; And now shall he sated In every land The will of our pleasure Beyond any measure The zvorld has yet known. From vast conflagrations Consuming the nations The glare that is cast Shall disclose the dark throne Of the Master of Sin As in dr apings of red Bedrenched with the blood That then shall be shed: Torrents of blood From myriads dead! The Moment! The Moment is Now! Else were it too late ; For the nations were learning to know THE UNSEEN HOUSE 33 Tliat their peoples can only bestozv The best they may give Unless by the Law they shall live That gives of their best to each other — Each man unto each as a brother. Hence the March of the Race Was approaching the place Where the bounties of life — Of life at its best — Were its ozvn at the close of the quest That ends zvith the ending of strife! II. Everywhere people were peacefully at work; from a cloudless sky The sun poured down, its kindly light and men looked up and smiled, thankful for life in a world so excellent. Peasant lads in Belgium were breeding carrier pigeons, and buyers came to send them over seas : thousands and thousands of the gentle birds. Farmers were cultivating their fields and harvesting their crops ; gardeners tilling their vineyards, florists cherishing choice flowers — sending potted azaleas 34 THE UNSEEN HOUSE and rhododendrons in splendid bloom to other lands. Industry hummed in hundreds of shops and mills and voices spoke in the whirring wheels : For the weal of the world we are lending a hand! III. A shot rang out — and then another ! The victims were royal : "Pro patr'ia," cried the youth, exulting. From the pool of blood a little cloud rose up, and as the sunshine touched it It grew dark and ominous. Ascending, it spread whirling, whirling . . . IV. In the sultry silence of a summer noon the merest trifle — an arrow's flight, a pebble cast — may start a tiny whirlwind that daintily toys at first with scraps of paper and lightly sports a while with the highway dust until, like a growing tiger's-whelp THE UNSEEN HOUSE 35 that in one moment leaps from milk-fed harmlessness to quench a new-bom thirst for blood, it suddenly expands into a fierce tornado that cuts wide swaths of ruin through a devasted landscape. So fared the world from those pistol-shots scarce heard above the gala tumult of the Moment. The cloud sped swiftly onward, spreading from land to land until its baleful canopy quenched the cheerful sunlight throughout the earth. Evil words sounded out of the blackness, hatred their burden. Men listened eagerly and avidly obeyed. From prospering, peaceful trades men turned to the making of murderous things and the thinking of murderous thoughts, sowing broadcast the seeds of hopelessness throughout the earth. VI. The vortex born of those fatal shots has grown so vast under its evil momentum 36 THE UNSEEN HOUSE that even now it threatens to overwhelm all nations in a whirlwind of wrath. The service-gifts of fire and soul-illuminating speech received by Man from above first made him more than Beast, endowing him with potencies divine — or diabolical ; yet leaving him free choice as to the way that he would have them do his bidding And whenever the crucial Moment came how has he chosen? Has ever before the world been so dark as now? Yet sooner or later the tempest must pass, the sun must some time shine aqain. DREAM— OR VISION? That was a curious dream I had — Or vision, some would say it was ; It matters little as to name, It was so strange, it was so true: A wondrous Being — glorious, Divinely great, divijiely wise ! I somehow in its presence stood. There in the hollow of its hand A globe was held ; intent its gaze Thereon was fixed, as one might look Into a lustrous crystal sphere. So perfect was the imagery It seemed to be this very world, Its continents and oceans all Displayed within the envelope Of a translucent atmosphere. And as I looked on any part There I could see a teeming life Of infinite diversity, With all its intimate concerns In every detail manifest As were I there — and part of it. [37] 38 THE UNSEEN HOUSE Whatever my attention claimed, Therewith I was identified, In perfect rapport with it all. I saw an island paradise : Each separate valley there enclosed A tiny nation by itself, Living its own life all apart, And quite idyllic, natural. Yet for the folk beyond the range Each little people cherished naught But hatred black, implacable. "What folly!" said I to myself. "They're neighbors all ; why rob And slay each other? Why . . . ?" Again I saw a paradise : An island, like the other one ; Indeed, it was the other one — Yet all of its inhabitants Were here one folk; and every vale. Now richly tilled, united was With neighboring valleys by smooth roads Where motor-cars sped to and fro; And telephones all houses joined Both near and far ; and everywhere The people all were closely knit In ties of trade and amity. Then ever wider grew my gaze : THE UNSEEN HOUSE 39 At first I saw the earth entire With all its kingdoms manifold, Involved in strife perpetual — One vast extension, as it seemed, Of that first island's savage state. But gradually there came about A steadfast betterment of things. Until at last I saw the world Approaching here, achieving there. In many a land the well-wrought state Whereby that second island realm Had raised itself from savagery To levels high, where happiness And all well-being were the rule. Yet while I gazed contentions rose And parts fell back, and so a blight Came over all— and sorrow fell, And evil days returned again. So happened it repeatedly — And every effort to retain The priceless blessings born of Peace Seemed all in vain. So then I turned And, sorrow-weighted, question made Unto that Being Mystical : "And must it ever be this way? May not that second island realm The model be for all the world — Prophetic of the day to come?" 40 THE UNSEEN HOUSE The Being smiled inscrutably : "The model stands, by man achieved; And man may easily attain Throughout the world those self -same boons Of lasting peace and happiness. He only has to know the Right. Yet it must ever be as now So long as mankind heedeth not The simplest lesson trade has taught Since those first days when things were brought From other lands unto those parts Where men desired and needed them : That commerce service means, not gain — Except the gain that brings no loss. That lays upon no man a cross; The gain that never comes with greed. And till this truth the nations heed Must wars he waged and peoples bleed." FATHER AND SON To the Memory of Charles Hamilton Sorley (1914 — May) I My boy with the joyous, clear-eyed gaze, Eager to face the world's rough ways With happy heart and laughing look As Life spreads wide its open book, How may it be when you have trod The long, the hard, the uphill road? Counting the milestones I have passed. Until the spot you'll come at last Where now I stand : a pilgrim worn, Illusions shattered, raiment torn. Yet glad I've come the weary way — Since each November led to May! 2 I almost envy you, my boy. The bitter sweetness of the joy I've known so well, and which awaits In all abundance ere the Gates At last shall close behind you. Then — ? But that lies far beyond our ken . . . 3 Meanwhile what wonders there shall be For your admiring eyes to see. For your inquiring soul to know, [41] 42 THE UNSEEN HOUSE Before the Teachers bid you go ! I fain would make your lessons mine And further trace the great design Whose patterns gave me such delight As they, expanding from the night Of Nature's endless mystery, Have stood revealed for History. 4 A measure for those marvels vast Which, sealed for me, shall yet at last Show daylight-clear before your eyes, Disclosed in all their glad surprise, I find contained in what I've known — And manifold the number shown For your enchantment shall there be ; Though vain indeed were prophecy As to their purport. Yet my fate Has been to see such wonders great Made plain to man as were untold By all the records e'er unrolled For human eyes since Time began To shape the world for rule by Man : The telephone, electric light, Phonograph, wireless, human flight. Radio-activity, x-rays, Deep glimpses of the endless ways That unseen constellations sound And with electrons make the round . . . THE UNSEEN HOUSE 43 5 To think, my boy, that you shall know, Before the time for you to go, Things yet more wondrous than all this ! It almost gives me eagerness — In spite of age, in spite of pain- To turn and fare the Road again: This kindly world, so excellent, As Man fulfills Divine Intent! II. (191 5 — November) I Dear boy, whose candid, laughing look Shone eager for Life's open book. Beneath the stars those once-glad eyes Are turned unheeding to the skies Amidst the windrows of the slain In battle's harvest. After pain In peace you lie. No marvels vast Await you here. Those hopes are passed Forever now. But on that shore To which you've sped, are not in store Such wonders for your soul to know As this world's life may never know? A kindly world, and excellent, Where Man fulfills Divine Intent . . .? 44 THE UNSEEN HOUSE 2 The roses pass — yet roses bloom Another year. Though in the tomb The body lies, beloved boy, The pulsing life that was your joy Its gracious tide forever pours Throughout this world, and never lowers Its volume while rejoicing youth In hosts exhaustless, seeking truth And bearing beauty, conquers earth By thronging through the Gates of Birth, Then pressing on with clear-eyed gaze. Eager to brave the world's rough ways With happy hearts and laughing looks And read Life's endless open books. FRIENDS AT WAR "As God gives us to see the right." I. And yet, dear friend, how may we know the right: For years we both have stood Together, striving for the common good. In works our faith was wrought; United we have sought The clarifying rays Of God's pure Hght. Now, in these troubled days, Quite other ties of soul and heart Have led us wide apart ; And there, where I see light. Your eyes behold but night ; What I as evil know. To you is right. II. Last night I dreamed Before a judge we stood; Most wise — and therefore good. He seemed. And taking heed Of our perplexity He thus decreed : [45] 46 THE UNSEEN HOUSE "You both are wrong, you both are right. What each deems evil is but good Abused, misnamed, misunderstood — As oriental music discord is For ears unwonted to an alien scale Which yields seductive melodies To them for whom your harmonies Are dissonance; so Heaven's divinest song Is but concordant blending Of all you know as wrong In balance with its opposites : The sympathies called right — Or as the sun's clear rays. So dazzling white. Unite conflicting hues In perfect light." We may indeed but dimly apprehend These cosmic meanings, at the best — And lest our souls take fright Before the vastness of the flight They're bid to make, We cling for guidance to each temporal thing We designate as "right." So, even though Your right may be my wrong, Your wrong my right. THE UNSEEN HOUSE 47 The tvv^o, antiphonal, mated in one true song, Wing upward to the hght Whose vibrant urgings thrill All pregnant life From whirling atoms up to lordly man And inconceivably far Beyond him, to fulfill The Cosmic Will. How might we mar That perfect plan? IV. But now, my friend, I only know I love you still. Although it is your nation's will That they whose cause is yours In blind obedience maim and kill The ones whose cause I can but feel Is just; the ones whose hearts I know are true as steel, Whose works and laws Have made for order and for righteousness. Have given them homes aglow With happiness — While you feel that you know Those very things as true Of them who wage their war for you. 48 THE UNSEEN HOUSE V. While hearts of milhons bleed, The heart of me is torn With all their agony; My soul with grief is worn For woe that's yet to be : Vast tragedies enacted — Whole continents their stage; Destruction's brutal rage ; The wrecking of a world — The helpless peoples hurled Into the black abyss Where lie long ages ended ; Hurled with all the hopes Wherewith they had ascended; Hurled with all the bliss Those hopes had built ; And all because — Perverting gifts divine, Defying Heaven's laws — They raised a House of Greed To guard an evil shrine. And is it thus we must fulfill The Cosmic Will? WAR-POSTERS (1915) I. Said the friendly attendant at the Hbrary : "You will find in the print-room today another war-poster — a German one at last — just in by mail." I had seen the collection only the day before: English almost all of it — (half a dozen Russian examples, but nothing from France or Germany) — Appeals for enlistment — stirring, pictorial — well designed and strong in color; the glory of war, the duty of men: "Be a sport and Lend a Hand to the Lads at the Front! They want your Help!" "Your Country has Need of You!" A portrait of "Bobs" ; before it, his sword and plumed hat forever laid by : "He did his Duty. Will you do Yours?" [49] 50 THE UNSEEN HOUSE II. As for the Russian cartoons : What was their purpose? Surely not enlistment ends ; in Russia the young men have to serve — just as the Germans, the Austrians, the French, the Belgians, have to serve : An equal duty laid upon them all. That Russian work was primitive indeed, . . Simply bad ; that is enough to say — the badness of an overgrown boy who boasts of his bigness and bullies the smaller fellows. Now, as I went upstairs to the print-room, I conjectured as to the German poster, quite curious to see what it might depict. Doubtless, I thought, something of blood and iron, breathing flame and fury — perhaps the "Chant of Hate" in picture-shape . . . Can that he itf THE UNSEEN HOUSE 51 Indeed, the words are German — but — a war-poster? Color subdued and restful, brown and gray and green ; intimate the sentiment, breathing love of home and peace : A man and a woman sitting together holding hands, gravely happy for the moment — He a wounded soldier home from the front, convalescent, his arm in a sling- She his young wife (or may be his sweetheart), a book in her other hand, reading aloud. And this the English of the legend: "Hold Communion with our Thinkers and Poets; The Book gives Joy and Consolation." RECRUITS "How strange that I should meet you now: the very man that I was thinking of!" It was my good friend, Doctor Verlyss: now examining surgeon at the recruiting-otfice for our district. "You're an artist — just the man for me," he said. "So come along; I'll .show you models galore ! I only fear you'll find it tantalizing to know you cannot paint them : 'Greek gods,' 'young Apollos' — the regulation thing to say, you know, whenever comely, virile youths appear in their birthday suits. Are human beings godly only when they're stripped and frankly show themselves just as God fashioned them?" "When God made man in His own image," I laughingly made answer, "He left the clothing out (most reprehensibly, of course, according to some notions now so widely held) ! [52] 53 THE UNSEEN HOUSE The clothing was an afterthought — though not of God's — I think the Devil must have been the tailor. . . . But tell me : how can sunlit Hellas here have bloomed anew — here in the North; in misty, dull-skied England?" "So many ancient things we deemed forever passed have come again for us in these strange days, we may not be surprised at anything coming back. We are shedding our civilization very fast just now. .. "Yes, I'll show it you — the whole classic outfit : Adonises, Narcisusses, Endymions — and all the rest. And I really want your help today," he said. "You know anatomy so throughly — and my second assistant, a youthful medical student, has been called away to the front. It leaves me for the moment in a hole." I needed no more urging. For enlistment it was a banner-day :. in Flanders a great battle had just been fought; the terrible slaughter had filled us with horror, drenched England with sorrow, yet bred no dismay — 54 THE UNSEEN HOUSE had only fired with sacrificial zeal our British youth. Before the door a crowd was waiting — silently, solemnly, patiently waiting, yet aflame with eagerness to serve; as eager, it would seem, to take the chances of war as were the stakes alluring prizes in a lottery instead of the awful likelihood of getting killed — or infinitely worse : maimed for life, or mutilated unspeakably: eternities of torment compressed to agonizing hours. It was touching to see that throng of young men there : so many young fellows yet in their teens or early twenties; carefully groomed to look their best for the crucial hour: little personal touches in neckties and scarf-pins, in pitch of hats and caps, in jaunty set of garments. And so many of them, after a few days more, never to wear civilian garb again ! So many boys of gentle blood, fresh from happy homes : friendly country houses, grown about with garden bloom, full of comfort — music, books and pictures — THE UNSEEN HOUSE 55 warm with family affection — quiet lamplit evenings, joyous outdoor days. II. "Sit here at this desk," said the Doctor, "and play for the day, that you are my second assistant." Undressing in the antechamber the young fellows entered stark naked, ushered in by a sergeant. At first abashed, perhaps, after a minute or two they took it as matter of course. Standing around in a group of a dozen or so they waited their turns to be weighed and measured and closely examined — the Doctor busily tapping and thumping, listening at the chest and carefully feeling them all over. All unembarrassed and never self-conscious, straying about the room and casually looking at things — pictures on the walls, books and papers on the table- as unconcerned and natural as were they strolling down the street as usual and gazing into shop windows. 56 THE UNSEEN HOUSE Every now and then a youth under examination at the moment would prove so exceedingly handsome that the Doctor made admiring exclamation : praising the shapely build of him, his comeliness and gracious poise, and telling him how exceptionally high he stood in points that made for physical excellence. "It pleases a boy immensely to be told such things about himself," the Doctor afterwards said to me. "It seems worth while to give them happiness when perhaps the time for joy in life that's left to them may not be long now." With the final group for the day to appear for examination came one young fellow of such surpassing quality in figure and in feature that the Doctor cried out : "Just look at that boy there ! The last to come in — he's standing now the third from the right. Of all the recruits I have ever examined from the very beginning down to this moment unquestionably he is the finest yet." THE UNSEEN HOUSE 57 "I well can believe you," I answered. "Truly it would seem that he even might be the young god Hermes incarnate here before us — as beautiful to look upon as the statue by Praxi- tiles." I noted the name when he gave it and the usual facts were written against it : Adclbert Enderman — and I wondered who the splendid youth might be. "You hold the record," the Doctor told him when he had been examined : "Of all recruits accepted here since the War began (and many's the first-class specimen of English manhood stands to the credit of this station) there's no one yet can anywhere near approach you. If there be such a thing as absolute perfection in the human figure I think no other English lad alive can be so close to it as you are. My friend here is a well known painter, and he, I'm sure, will bear out what I tell you." "Indeed I will," I heartily agreed. "And I only wish I had the privilege of painting your likeness — portraying you just as you stand for that would be the only way my brush could do justice to the subject." 58 THE UNSEEN HOUSE The youth's clear eyes Ht up; but in their limpid glow and in the rare boy smile that came with it no trace of vanity was visible. Rather it seemed the pleasure shown by one who bears a gift and from the receiver learns its precious worth. He flushed and said : "I am glad, 1 am glad as 1 can be to hear you tell me that. I am glad because, if that which 1 am giving has all the worth you say it has, it still could never be too much for me to give for England." IV. That evening at the club, thinking over the day's experience I said to myself: "li any moral difference there be between these days of ours and those of ancient times and human sacrifice may it not lie in favor of antiquity? How would we weigh in the balance — we, who offer up to our gods of Self Will, Vainglory and Greed the choicest blood of our peoples, numbering by millions our victims?" THE UNSEEN HOUSE 59 Musing on this for a while, I picked up a London weekly and idly glanced at its contents. My eye caught the name, Adelbert Endermon. It was signed to these verses : ANTINOUS "He sacrificed himself to destiny" In the flower of my youth I stand at the brink of the river. The Voice of the Nile Is calling me. My star, now gleaming above me, This night will sink to the river. My youth in its flower! . . . And I stand at the brink of dark waters. The eager waves Are clamoring to embrace me. They call me to sink in dark waters To depths ever tranquil. In the flower of my youth, In the bloom of my beauty, I go rose-garlanded. THE RETURNING We long for her, we yearn for her — Yes, ardently we yearn For her return. Recalling those beloved days (Days intimate with ways Of friends so near to us And life so dear to us) We yearn unspeakably for her return. And .come she must. . .Yet while we trust We soon may see the passing of this agony Which makes intrusive years still seem A fearsome dream, We know that when she comes She really comes not back again. She'll come in other guise And under fairer skies — And yet to bitter pain ! That day she went away Our homes with laughing youth were filled ; Where then was happiness Is now distress; For when she left Youth followed her — We stay bereft. [60] THE UNSEEN HOUSE 6i So all our golden joy For what she brings Must carry gray alloy : The sorrow that she cannot lay, The misery she cannot stay — While all the gladsome songs she sings Must bear for undertones Old sighs and echoed moans. As they who go away In flush of youth May come quite worn and gray And bringing naught but ruth,— So, when the strife shall cease, And when she comes at last. When all the armies vast Shall at her feet Kneel down to greet Thrice-welcome Peace, This world will be so changed (So many dear ones dead. So many friends estranged. So many blessings fled. So many wonted ways forever barred, So many coming days forever marred) That then She truly comes not back again— She, the Peace we knew. 62 THE UNSEEN HOUSE Yet how we long for her — - How ardently zve yearn For her return! GOOD-WILL AND GOD'S PEACE I. O Ruler of Nations and Master of All! Thy will be our own as on earth it is done ! Protect us, we pray Thee, from victories won in warfare for wrong ! And in jubilant song may our paeans ne'er sound for warriors crowned With laurels ill gained — our honor bestained by exalting our might And abusing Thy bounty in scorn of the Right ! II. O Ruler of Nations and Master of All! We long for the Peace and Good-Will on Earth Proclaimed by Thine angels when hailing the birth of our Saviour and Lord — Who instead brought a szvord: Thy token that strife shall dominate Life Until Peace has been gained and Good-Will attained with our passing from Night Out of bloodshed and woe, unto joy in Thy Light. III. O Ruler of Nations and Master of All! Now teach us, Thy peoples, that nowhere on earth [63] 64 THE UNSEEN HOUSE The Peace we all long for can ever hold worth till Thy boon of Good- Will We accept ; that until to achieve it we yearn Thy Faith we shall spurn ! So our infinite need is a mutual heed for the weal and the right Of Each and of All on our way to the Light.