PS 3503 .118 M5 1899 Copy 1 Within the Hedge , by Martha Gilbert Dickinson CCCONU COPY, LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Chap Copyright No. sheit.xii> y^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. WITHIN THE HEDGE [artha Gilbert Dickinson 1/ C'V.>/i-'>''>'C-<'Vv>' , New York Doubleday & McClure Co, 1899 COPYRIGHT 1899 S'^ DOUBLEDAY & MCCLURE CO T^ ^1191 U.,c^eO»SES ^^C/ilVED. I MAYS -1889" ^ ^^^ of co^i v:^?;:-^ To My Brother Edward Dickinson Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2011 witii funding from Tine Library of Congress littp://www.arcliive.org/details/witliinliedgeOObian ^OR permission to reprint a number of verses in this volume the author is proud to acknowledge the courtesy of The Atlantic, The Century, Scribner's, Harper's Magazine and Bazar, The Nev/ England, The Bookman, The Independent, The Dial, The Sunday School Times, The Congregationalist, The Boston Transcript, The Springfield Republican, and others. -■'at iHM >i< iti' iriiir 'HT' covet a knowledge of new facts ? Day and nighty house and garden^ a few books^ a few actionSy serve us as well as would all trades and all spectacles. 'E are far from having exhausted the significance of the few symbols we use. IVe can come to use them yet with a terrible simplicity. I'T does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem. Every new relation is a new word. Emerson The Contents In Absence 3 Separation 5 Fidelity 7 The Christ 8 The Wrestler i \ Revelation 13 Benedicite 14 The Far- Away 15 The Sacred Hills 17 The Saddest Day 19 Forgiveness Lane 20 There is Such Love 21 Alone 11 Waiting 23 Ebb Tide 24 Sleep is a Sea 25 The Sea of Silence 27 At Rest 29 The Brotherhood of Silence 3 1 Before the Dawn 33 At Night 34 To Cleopatra's Mummy. In the British Museum 25 The Cost of Joy 2^ Words 37 Life 38^ Incompletion 39 To Memory 41 Reality 42 Content 4 3 Love and Pity 44 Illusion 45 Unsung 46 Suspense 47 Unanswered 48 Limitation 49 Memory 51 Happiness 52 The Lash ^;^ Jealousy 54 Remembering ^^ The Song of a Soul 57 Do We Forgive? 58 The Mystery of May ^^ In Praise of March 61 May 62 Good- By 62 September 64 Yellow and Gray 6^ A Winter Wind 66 A Violet 67 Indian Summer 68 Summer's Will 70 Summer's Ascension 72 In August Clouds 73 In November 74 Bittersweet 76 White Birches 77 A Spring Bacchanal 79 The Pines 81 Noonday 82 Nooning 83 Sun to Mountain 86 A Miracle 87 The Waterfall 88 At High Tide 89 Violets 9 1 Haunted 93 Some Hearts 94 Calvary 95 Thine Eyes 96 Before 97 His Talisman 98 Love's Exigence 99 My Lover loi Crossways 102 Her Music 103 Wrecked 105 The Words We Do Not Say 106 The Night My Sweetheart Died 107 Her Grave 109 The Spire 1 10 A Priest's Prayer 1 1 1 From Carmencita's Rosary 112 It Doth Not Yet Appear 1 14 He Came Unto Himself" 115 A House of Cards 117 A Question 118 Beneath the Hills 119 WITHIN THE HEDGE IN ABSENCE As one who turns from waves upon the shore To dream a distant ocean in the sky. Thine absent presence sways my spirit more Than all the human voices thronging nigh. How visible, yet how removed, are these Strong hands I touch, these kisses on my face. When sunset smiling wistful through the trees Again enslaves me to thy vanished grace ! My thoughts outrun the senses slow, to share In some unfettered realm our old delight. As if a vibrant chord had thrilled the air And loosed wide wings a-quivering for flight. 3 In Absence I breathe thy hidden fragrance, feel thee near, Disdainful of each barrier's control, Till all my Vv'orld becomes thy symbol dear. And parting but a gateway of the soul. ■■--^smiamm SEPARATION There be many kinds of parting ; — yes, I know, Some with fond grieving eyes that overflow, Some with brave hands that strengthen as they go ; Ah yes, I knov/, I know. But there be partings harder still to tell. That fall in silence like an evil spell. Without one wistful message of farewell — Ah yes, too hard to tell. There is no claiming of one sacred kiss, One token for the days v*/hen life shall miss A spirit from the world of vanished bliss ; Ah no, not even this. Separation There is no rising ere the birds have sung Their skywardsongSjtojourney with the sun — Nor folded hands to show that Hfe is done ; Ah no, for life is young. There are no seas, no mountains rising wide. No centuries of absence to divide — Just soul space, standing daily side by side ; Ah, wiser to have died ! Hands still clasp hands, eyes still reflect their own ; Yet had one over universes flown. So far each heart hath from the other grown, Alone were less alone. ..^g^ggggjyigljl FIDELITY As Love remembereth the old love's form Though quickening life hath vanished long ago, So I have seen a frail birch through the storm Rock tenderly a frozen nest of snow. THE CHRIST SUGGESTED BY THE P1CTUP.ES OF TISSOT Yet look we for another, — who shall paint The Christ of wide creation's growing claim ! The hope on earth for sinner and for saint, Conceived of shifting ages, — yet the same. Shall art prevail till visible endure The self-avenging God, the shepherd's star — The rod and staff that lead through death secure, The faith of childhood, manhood's drifting spar ? Stupendous task ! Unto each soul remains. Soft halo'd as befits a spirit guest, I^he Christ The Christ whose hand struck off his captive- chains. The hidden daysman of each human breast : The magdalen, the mother, and the nun, The fisherman of tossing GaUlee — The Puritan, the leper, and the son Of modern stress in his complexity. One knew him walking on the waves, — -and one Loved Him the Sabbath morning 'mid the corn; Another feasting ; some when He had done Strange healing, — few, as prophet of the thorn. Wild hearts have met Him in the wilderness And more close by, within the city wall. Have touched the garment that perchance may bless ; — No fleshly image satisfies us all ! 9 The Christ Though quick with love the painted form may be, " Such Lord, was never mine," we cry,— O then Look on the face of friend or foe and see God's masterpiece,— the deathless Christ in men ! -.mummaitttiitt^ THE WRESTLER The New Year comes — not like the Child of glory To vanquish sin by helpless innocence ; No wise men kneel adoring at his manger, No virgin breast his tender Providence, A wanderer from out Time's stormy moun- tain, Untried he comes — -across the eastern hills ; New grief, new hate, new victory await him — ■ His flying track the old year snowflake fills. Far spent the night of hoary shepherd's dreaming ; Arise ! O prostrate worshipers, arise ! Mark ye with joy the shining feet approaching' O sons of men, lift up courageous eyes ! 'The Wrestler Thy naked thigh, anointed, is it supple ? Gird up thy loins ! Art thou Peniel shod ? Gauge well the lusty sinews of the stranger — A wrestler coming forth to thee from God ! Fling thou upon him ! Waste no moment's vantage. Loose not the straining purpose of thy thrust — Let not thy fist relax to old temptations, Nor faint from consciousness that thou art dust! Wrestling for peace, for country, love and honor — Wrestling alone — in combat for thy soul — This be thy cheer should dawnlight worst or bless thee. Another challenge meets thee at the goal. REVELATION Perhaps instead of that stern Judge conceived Of patriarch and seer ; relieved Of body-trammels, could we see The dreaded face of God, — may it not be That craving miracles we should but find Ourselves among the wilful blind ? That God from hill and cloud had smiled Familiar, — wistful, on his stolid child ; Resembled strongest in the features dear Of those beloved and cherished near — Veiled or revealed within those eyes That speak our cruelty or sacrifice ; Till looking up to some one face above. We cry. My God ! I see Thee in my love ! X3 BENEDICITE The waves in prostrate worship lie, and cease To count the pebbles on their rosary ; Over the scourged rocks a smile of peace Deepens the hushed expectancy. Each small, lost flower lifts her fragrant brow, Forgotten flocks turn toward the rosy West ; Day drops her anchor off the world — and now Awaits her shriving — all her ways confessed. The patriarchial mountains stand apart. Far hills are kneeling ; birds arrest their flight — - Then the real Presence crowds all Nature's heart. And benediction falls with night. -JaliMM THE FAR-AWAY Oh Far- Away, enchanted Far- Away Where Fancy's tired wings are furled, Where weary longing finds a world, Where sails go down with day ; What haunting wonders anchor there. What colors beat along thy coasts. What comradeship of happy ghosts Beguile to revels rare ! Oh Far- A way, mysterious as fair — What songs we sailors never sung. What rainbow visions of the young Pervade thy dreamy air; 'The Far-away Beyond the serfdom of regret, Beyond the despot of Good-bye — In whose safe port my Love and I Forget we must forget ! i6 THE SACRED HILLS The hills our holy Sabbath know, Their song a psalm ; Behold how calm, With strong heads raised their faith to show ! Soft folded hands befit them best. Souls wrapt in prayer Or vision fair, Aspiring hope, abiding rest. There is no day the ocean keeps, It is all change ; Behold how strange, It sings and dances, mocks and leaps. 17 The Sacred Hills Keen flashing eyes befit it best, Hearts throbbing high Nor caring why, SparkHng motion and savage zest. The vagrant ocean 'tis that thrills The heart of me ; My soul, may be, Belongs unto the sacred hills. 1% THE SADDEST DAY There came no uncompanioned day While she by grief was newly wed, For they were each the other's own ; Close clasped, uncomforted. Until a laugh did first betray Her youthful heart ; then sorrow fled Leaving her widowed and alone Since even grief was dead. 19 FORGIVENESS LANE Forgiveness Lane is old as youth — You cannot miss your way ; 'Tis hedged by flowering thorn forsooth^ Where white doves fearless stray. You must walk, gently with your love — Frail blossoms dread your feet, And bloomy branches close above Make heaven near and sweet. Some lovers fear the stile of pride And turn away in pain. But more have kissed where white doves hide. And blessed Forgiveness Lane. THERE IS SUCH LOVE There is such love, my soul knows well, Hot as revenge in a heart of hell. Colder than justice's frozen brain — Sacred as honor and real as pain ; Whose days are deep-toned bells that chime Up to the stars of a night sublime : That is the love I know shall be. Quick with the throb of a shoreless sea. There is such love, — by man's own hope — Desire measures the nature's scope. Since that we want is our true whole, A shadow cast by our naked soul. There is such love — 'tis passion's rein — 'Tis heaven to heart, strong wine to brain — So kill me hunger, burn me thirst. Royal the birth-right you prove me first ! ALONE Without thine eyes there Is no seeing, Beyond thy hearing music dies^ — Robbed of thy heart both life and being Faint in their swift flight to the skies ! Mine eyes, heart, soul, their vision giving, Creator, Lover, breath of me ! Without Thee death were but this living. Far from Thee life what death must be 1 WAITING Hills that miss you, Pines that whisper you, Days that dawn in vain — Brooks that mourn you. Paths hard worn for you. By foot-fall of lonely rain ; Birds that call you. Buds that fall for you. Stars that seek and wane — Hands that need you. Hearts that plead for you— Pray for your coming again. as EBB TIDE If God should draw life's veiling flood away, What sights the human beach could show the day ! What doubts, what creeping aims, what dreams long drowned. What hopes, like fallen stars, would there be found ; What wreckage where the surface calmly sleeps, What shallows where we most had looked for deeps. Strange rocks of cruelty that lie concealed. Clad in pale weeds ofvice,mightriserevealed — Where monster habits in their slimy pride Through falsehood's clinging brine securely glide. God pity all ; oh, may his own grace hide And save our secret souls from such ebb tide ! H SLEEP IS A SEA Sleep is a sea ; we leave the landmarks of the day, The song of birds, the bells of sheep, and drift away. Sleep is a sea ; the lights fade out along the shore. Across hope's bar the floods of memory pour. And now the sweet voice of the night is in our ears — Once out beyond the headland we forget our fears, For out upon the tide the darkness softer grows ; We fix our eyes upon a star, but no one knows Sleep is a Sea The chartless track. Sleep is a sea ; far, far the shore — - Good night ! We shall come back to yester- day no more, But following the distant calling of the Deep We set our sails and steer down, down to drown in sleep. s6 THE SEA OF SILENCE The sea of silence hath a rising tide And low the dykes of bold mortality ; Hov/ cravenly the staunchest walls deride Her waves that turn before no boundary ! Men traffic careless on her shore And revel nightly with the swine — Only the wasting sand before Betrays the menace of her nearing brine. No saving sail relieves her dumb expanse, No valiant swimmer tramples down her deeps ; Build up your ramparts ! Swift their might enhance ! The sea of silence unobserved creeps ! 27 The Sea of Silence The strong go down to save the weak, Their awe-struck faces float a space- Remorseless still her currents seek ; Death fears no ebb,-— life holds no vantage place. 28 "AT REST" Upon a hillside where the sea Enfolds a rocky Northern isle, Her lone grave nestles in the lee Of sunset's vague, withdrawing smile. The late wild roses bend to frame Their sleeping sister's last bequest — Only her simple woman's name ; The legend on her stone, " At Rest.'* The gull's wild welcome to the dawn. The wren's near song encircle her ; White ships troop noiseless and are gone ; Deep falls the shadow of the fir. 29 At Rest How oft *mid toil and mockery, Long leagues from that assurance blest. Envy and pity strive with me For her transporting fate " At Rest ! " 3° THE BROTHERHOOD OF SI LENCE Oh Brotherhood of Silence ! Holy Alps ! That girded in the patient ages stand To give thy rugged ministries to man. Or rapt as saints beneath thy white cowls see The ways of force take hold on mystery ! Partakers of the Spirit, lone, — austere — Round whose high altar clings the shriven mist— What vow hath leagued ye thus against all Time ? For whose sure coming lift ye up a prayer ? What penances have scourged thy sides ? For sin Escaped ye to the wilderness of air ? 31 "The Brotherhood of Silence And by what promises are ye sustained, Whose frozen hymn invades the Winter stars ? Across thy brows the wind's wing lifts the hoar All unrebuked ; the harebells trust thy ^QQt. Rigid repose, — tranquility supreme ! Of thy Creator's fingers the remote And shining mark ! Oh Silent Brotherhood With Thee be consolation of thy peace ! The Alps v/ithin us hail Thee, Alps without ! Ye comrades, prophets of eternity ! BEFORE THE DAWN I wander silent, unconfessed of joy, Whose heart-throbs all too loud for safety- seem ; Lest I should Love's enchanted sleep destroy Nor bear my bliss o'er confines of a dream. As children gather flowers rare all night — But laughing wake themselves in morning land, To find their fingers empty of delight, Or just a sunbeam lying on their hand ! 33 AT NIGHT The marvel of a thousand nights is out upon the sea, The chorus of a thousand years is crying up to me. The longing of a world of souls in ignorance of Why, Demands an answer to the pain in which we live and die ; While risingjgroaning, falling,— in its temple of the night, The mighty dervish, — pagan sea, — performs its solemn rite ! 34 TO CLEOPATRA'S MUMMY IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM Beauty deceitful and favor vain ! Can it be for this twisted sack of bones Legends of passion were writ in pain, And lustful monarchs forgot their thrones ? Be these the mangled wages of sin ? Did the tiger crouch in this shrunken frame? Could her silken sails and cohorts win No haughtier fate for a storied name ? Do dreams recall her those poisoned slaves. Whose torment instructed her sultry charms To walk seductive the way of graves FromAntony'spillow toDeath'sgrimarms ? Stolid she turns but a crumbling ear ; She who was more than a Pagan's heaven ? Egypt as Ichabod moulders here, — " Number six thousand eight hundred and seven ! 35 THE COST OF JOY The cost of joy is joy ; for in the sea A brook no longer may an idler be ; The ocean lifts her ships and bears them on, — Our sweet old hillside troubadour is gone. The cost of joy is joy ; June brings the rose; But clad in tears the violet springtime goes ; The rose of passion with her hot red breath, Is love's first silent messenger to death. The cost of joy is joy ; suns fright the moon ; The rainbow hope dissolves in truth's high noon ; To-day costs yesterday in heart and brain, — Immortal life, the sum of earthly gain. 36 WORDS As sturdy Pilgrims planted restless corn To wave concealing o'er their murdered braves, We hide with careless words our secret graves, Lest silence bare a hope forlorn. 37 LIFE To live is only this — To feel the tragic passion of the sea, To crave some answer from the soul's abyss. And from the hills surmise our destiny I To live is only this» 38 INCOMPLETION Withstraining hearts we lean towards Spring- A month, a day, a week between Us and the shadow of her wing. We sense her heart-beat, she is here ! Her broidered foot-Drint on the green. The glamor of her starting sheen, Hope's slow consent to Fear. For lo ! Life does not fly to greet Her soft approach ; nor melt before The healing of her magic sweet. Soon summer birds will o'er us sing — While we stand yearning as of yore ; Ah, man's delight did covet more ! Some unguessed happening. Incompletion 'By violet and oriole — By lilac, then by lark she plights ; Her faith an ever-changing goal. Beyond caress, beyond recall, Fulfilment's bond she but requites. When her white days and fragrant nights Are far forgot in golden Fall. 40 TO MEMORY Regret — with purple passion flowers in her hair, Holding the deadly night-shade to her lips. Smiling the cast-off smile that weary dreamers wear — To Memory ! — a deathless love pledge sips. 41 REALITY These are my scales to weigh reality— A dream, a chord, a longing, love of Thee. Real as the violets of April days Or those soft-hid in unfrequented ways, Real as the noiseless tune to which we tread The measure we by life's old song are led ; Real as man's wonder what his soul may be — A guest for time or for eternity. Real as the ocean, seen alas ! no more. Whose tide still beats along my heart's in- shore. These are my scales to weigh reality — A chord, a dream, a longing, love of Thee ! CONTENT I never saw a sea-mew flit wet-breasted o'er the main ; But home birds skim the daisy fields and splash upon the grain. I never sailed the Arctic seas where frozen perils lie ; My icebergs are but thunder heads piled in an August sky. I never saw the phosphorus gleam where midnight vessels pass ; My ocean is a meadow green with fire-flies in the grass. 43 LOVE AND PITY Love called and Pity answered, for she fain With her white soul would win him peace again. But when Love heard his own and smote her pale disguise, She found that she alone did bar his paradise. 44 ILLUSION A Daffodil — capricious chance — Was heavy with the dew. When bending low his haughty head. Still gazed on skies of blue. A Violet felt a golden thrill. And thinking him the sun. Loved all her heart up ; to fulfill A life for love begun. Thus rapt, they lived an April day ; At night a late frost sped And took them both her shining way- In Love's illusion wed. 45 UNSUNG The hills and valleys of the heart No voice will ever plumb ; Joy outstrips breath on rushing wing ; Grief-stricken lips are dumb. There is no chart of ecstasy, No plummet of despair ; Men do not measure as they drown Or scale a vision fair. 46 SUSPENSE The future wears its helmet down ; I fight and pray with scanty breath,— No smile betrays, no tear nor frown, But white at heart I feel 'tis Death ! 47 UNANSWERED I wanted you when skies Vv^ere red ! And now the sky is gray, I thought of you when shadows fled, Now falls the end of day. I called you when the hills were flame ! And now the hills are bare ; I sought you when the snowflakes came, And now the swallows pair. LI MITATION When listening birds and silent bees And hillsides blazing golden flame, And Summer winds in Autumn trees The waning year proclaim, — I long in some illumined way To be of Nature's soul a part, Uplifted with the yellow day Close to her glowing heart. Like angel-songs when souls go free, — Too faint to reach those left below, October glory hungers me, Eludes my senses slow. 49 Limitation Can it be God for whom I strive, Perfection's smile for which I strain. That face no man may see alive In joy or sacred pain ? Perhaps far Falls when I am dead— I shall grasp all I could not know Here with the birds and Autumn red, So long, so long ago. MEMORY The present time is like a nearer sail ; Fretted and torn and soiled with stormy tears — Anchored far out beyond recalling hail All sails look white across the sea of years ! 5^ HAPPINESS No miracle, but faithful daily bread Is happiness ; whereon our hearts are kd From our own hand. A present goal, some glad, unhoped surprise That folded 'neath a dark horizon lies, In this near land. A passing quiver born of morning light, The pain of yesterday subdued to-night — A sudden smile. Rest after toil, a home on some dear breast, So old the joys, so various the quest. That life beguile. THE LASH 'Tis not the sunshine or the blessedness of life. Nor Love the healer of Despair — Nor laurels torn from sullen fields of strife. Nor night-fall's certitude of care — ■ I most thank God for ; — 'tis the lash ! That cuts my face To one swift surging consciousness, That I all but betrayed a royal place And pawned my soul for Fate's caress. S3 JEALOUSY They dwelt together, — Love and Fear ; Ah, curse so sweetly wed. This night you die ! I killed it dear, — But Love lay with the dead. 54 REMEMBERING There fell a night when Winter fires Made dear content within, When we first touched the mysteries Where Self and Love begin. There rose a day when trees first guessed Their shadows passing fair, When I first called you by your name, As saints might breathe a prayer. There burned a noon, when turning from The splendor of the sky, I first dared wed your soul with mine-— Would God had passed us by ! 55 Remembering But over all the sunset flares That tore the heavens wide, When turning up your starry face- You kissed my lips and died. 56 THE SONG OF A SOUL My tenderest thoughts I never spoke, My bitterest tears went all unshed ; My love of Nature never woke A fitting word till I was dead. Now joy of winds and azure hill Is mine ; swept on Forever's tide I soar, I sing, I love you still. For this I glory to have died ! I am the song I never sang. Triumphant doth my spirit ride ! Let Spring her every banner hang On this, my soul's brave Eastertide. 57 DO WE FORGIVE Do we forgive or do we but forget When many crescent moons have filled anc set? Do we exonerate the heart of blame And reconcile for pity's sake the shame ; Do we forgive ? Indifferent to sin, When wrath burns out does chanty begin ? Do we forgive because we know too well That easy snare by which the angels fell, Because our eyes with newer tears are wet. Our faces turned to fairer conquest yet, — • Do we forgive ? Oh nagging conscience cease ! " As much as lieth in you live in peace ! " Do we forgive ? Nay, most of us forget ! e.S THE MYSTERY OF MAY I knew the trees would leaf and hedge-rows bloom this year — But failing Him, I hardly dream they will return ; For they were each unto His forest-heart so dear That surely they will sigh and listen till they learn The silent winter-way His life has lately gone; And shaken by the strangeness of so drear a May — Still seeking Him, will follow on ; a lorn And baffled company in green array. 59 'The Mystery of May He never did so late out-sleep the birds before ! It seems that even now the spring must guess- — One spirit lost she never can restore ; The awful secret of her loneliness. 60 IN PRAISE OF MARCH March is the bud of June ; brown pastures omen herds — Willows whisper roses, bare branches beckon birds. To dally with your fate, to hover ere you light, Yet know to-morrow sure as daybreak's tryst with night — Is rare felicity. Ah rose your bloom delay ! Nor bare your golden heart, — perfection hails decay. To wait for bliss is best, a sea of seas away, To meet her is to pass and solitary stray ! 6i MAY It snowed a blossom storm last night, A hurricane of bloom ; Lost in a drift of petals white May dies for fruit and June. 6a GOOD-BY A paGsing wind, an empty sea, The sky grown wide and pale ; A sun gone down in memory — Eastward an out-bound sail. 63 SEPTEMBER The wind blew over Pelham hills And caught the yellow maple trees ; They lifted just as canvas fills On ships that greet a breeze. Oh golden boats in ether blue, Whose sailor birds the rigging run, A homesick heart would ship with you To voyage beyond the sun. 64 YELLOW AND GRAY At twilight the sun flashed clear In a world of gray ; My heart lit a hope for next year In a grim to-day. 6s A WINTER WIND The wind is a wandering shepherd bold- No storm so wild, no path so steep. But hurrying off in the darkness cold He is herding his snow-flake sheep. 66 A VIOLET 'Tis not a flower to wear, and fade, and show — Nor signify as bolder blossoms do. Meeting and parting, love or faith, — ah no ! 'Tis but a tear that rose at thought of you. 67 INDIAN SUMMER The sun slants warm through empty fields Whose crops are harvested serene, Where memory her echo yields Of Spring's quick pulse and tender green. The spurned bough reveals the path Her bird has flown ; as unaware A gentle sense of aftermath, — Renunciation fills the air. Only the hawk of silver sails Darkens the wingless Autumn sky, Whose boding shadow flits and fails As human portents rise and die. Indian Summer Nature is resting ; brooding deep Her shortening hours silent run ; Craving the peace of her white sleep, Surrounded by old duties done. With chastened hopes to sober joys full grown. How oft like her the aged sit apart. Within a mellow season of their own ; Sweet Indian Summer of the heart I 69 SUMMER'S WILL These are the clauses of Summer's will — To Autumn, a languorous haze to fill Valley and mountain with vague regret For her whose beauty they cannot forget. To Mortals, maples whose colors dare Till scarlet Flamingoes seem nesting there ; Also a river woven in gold, Where willows murmur their stories old ; Treasures of golden rod, troops of corn And sumach torches out-heralding dawn. To Heaven, lest day despair too soon The silvery horn of her harvest moon. To Wondering Cattle, pastures green Rivaling May in their transient sheen ; All her black crovv^s to the lonely Pines. To Straggling Fences, her madcap vines ; 70 Summer s Will But to the Ocean only her tears, Tempests of parting and desolate fears. Sealed in witch hazel, filed in frost, To the witnessing winds 'twas all but tossed When she smiled a gentian codicil, — love to the roadside under the hill ! " 71 SUMMER'S ASCENSION Queen Summer climbed the lofty hills, she would not wait to die — But like a Viking lit her ship and burnt into the sky! The balsams knelt along the shore to see Her Highness pass ; Her yellow ribbons decked the birch, her scarlet robe the grass. The mourning wind's autumnal chant hung over all the lands. In solitary mass the ocean lifted prayerful hands. She turned upon the highest height to gleam a last farewell ; The sunset Is her royal grave — the hush her passing bell. 7a IN AUGUST CLOUDS The barge of Cleopatra seems to swim be- fore my eyes — Her lifted prow drifts questioning across the Summer skies. Guided by swaying wraiths bowed billow-wise, Waked by pursuivant forms of stealthy hordes in Roman guise. Listen ! Faint ears may find No chorus save the wind Upon a piney crag far underneath ; but unto m.e Above the lapping waves — Floats laughter, song of slaves, The hail of Caesar to Mark Antony ; Lute strings and revelry from some surmised, forgotten sea — Some azure strand where bides this phantom J. masque of legendry ! 73 IN NOVEMBER Where groups of mountain pines lift low Their dusky forms like mosques against the sky. Above v^hose domes the lonely crow Keeps Autumn vows in mystic circles high — Is hid a road, where one can hear The slowing heart-beat of the waiting hills ; Whose wintry angelus is near, And all the dell's enchanted traffic stills. The cautious rabbit can no foe discern, Where, mid the thicket tangles deep, The restless brook, green-pillowed on a fern, Wanders the leisure way of sleep. 74 In November There, blending foot-fail with the leaves, The wind repines for that which is no more ; And twilight fond her web of sunbeam weaves, To lure the ghost of Summer through the hoar. Oft have I kept a lover's tryst With vague expectance of requital near, Till down the purple valley mist Lengthen the heavy shadows of the year. Now the deep forest hush is brewed — Repose unbroken by belated wing, Within whose conscious solitude Lingers the haunting elegy of Spring. 75 BITTERSWEET The Autumn tragedy is played, A misty curtain pale rung dov/n. The debts of Summer's masquerade Fall due in pensive gray and brov/n. But where the brook still hoarsely sings, Like some fantastic posture girl The Bittersweet her figure flings — While moonbeams in a ballet twirl ! WHITE BIRCHES Dare not the shadows of a hooded road That lures thy step v/ithin a certain wood, Where nightfall makes her chosen lone abode And Nature's faithful children find her good ; For 'mid the properness of greenery, Where weary days outstretched in slumber lie — Darkness and dreams in sober wedlock be Hushed decorous beneath a Summer sky- Flaunt the White Birches, mocking ways of sleep ; Wakeful and eager for thy pleasuring. Their white feet turned to forest revels deep — Their white arms waving v/istful- — beck- oning ! 77 White Birches Daughters of joy ! To whose remote embrace Young moons prefer their silver gallantries, And roaming night winds lay a tender face, — Soft indiscretions, shamed by blameless trees ! However steadfast beat his blood, and be he loath or be he fain — Who once hath trembled after these, down paths of dusk will seek again Their youth illumined witcheries ! For leafy measures trod in gauze, — elusive laughter, elfin sighs, — No mortal venturing his troth but will wear moonshine in his eyes, Fee to his sisters of the moth who flit at eve in sylvan guise. 73 A SPRING BACCHANAL Lay thy fresh lips to mine, white soul of Spring ! O'er my face all thy blowing love-locks iling. Where azure skies in secret earthward lean, Till violet memories haunt the green ; I come to meet Thee — breathe thy perfumed song — The glooms of Wintry waiting were too long ! But now all sense of time or old regret Are lost in Thee ; — forgive if eyes be wet, — Waiting is tender work if bliss is sure ; Yet how her heartless tyrannies endure. When over neighboring hills one hears Fulfilment's horn, as breathless rapture nears ! 7i> A Spring Bacchanal 'What other lover hath a step of flight. Or arms enfolding soft as Summer night ! Be still each thought,! will but feel awhile — Lost in the dearer heaven of a smile ; As happy flowers lift them to the sun, Or mated birds vv^hen nesting; is begun. What other lover sways a court so sweet ! Days full of blossoms kneeling at my feet, And starry retinues all clad in gold — That with the secrets of the dark unfold, To guard the dreamless slumber of the air Above the heart of Beauty lying bare. Soft droops my head where often it hath lain ; Such deep consenting doth thy grace obtain, No more could night the blood of dawn o control. Than I from thy delight refuse my soul. Oh, Youth Eternal — stay thy gleaming wing ! Oh, Love Immortal — Thou alone art Spring ! 80 THE PINES Brothers of dark, whose green glooms fold away A solemn love of stars from dawn's harsh sight — Their tall peaks drowse and dream all day, Of reaching heaven perchance at night ! Si NOON-DAY Now falleth Noon-day hot upon the fields — Her heavy head upon the languid breast Of respite sinks desireless, oppressed. Beneath her sultry gaze the fir tree yields Her dark content ; no lurking shadow shields The Queen of Summer in her swoon of rest — Reposeful, dreamless, indolence possessed, A passive slavery her spirit wields. The wayside flowers wide their petals flare — Bodeth no ill on breathless sky or sea, Sated v/ith silence throbs the liquid air ; Teeming with over-ripe maturity Swells the gold calyx of the Autumn there. Mistress of Nature's lavish luxury. 82 NOONING The empty clatter of midnight cars — A flare of gas jets, the noise of feet, And scowling up to the Winter stars The open trench of a city street. The swinging pick and the bending backs Hunger and thirst have at last " laid off," While men drop down on the heaving tracks To munch like pigs at a common trough. 'Mid pounding hoofs and pestilent smells The surging traffic of sleepless night — The song and rattle of gambling hells — The trailing yell of a parted fight ; Nooning Drugged with v/eariness, dogged with toil, Littered with torches and spades they lie ; Stalwart and sickly sons of the soil, A text for the careless passer-by ! Stretching cramped limbs, — hear them sigh and swear- Made in the mould of our God, we think ! Too heavy laden for aught to care But the nickle's worth of fiery drink ! A tattered " extra," — a bluff at fun — A meagre pipe ; then a whistle's call, — Each to his feet ere the stroke of one Till dawn and the Boss shall end it all ! But under more than one swarthy hide There thrusts a memory sweet and dim, Of sunny hay fields and by his side A woman who once belonged to him. Nooning The frugal joy of his shining pail, The prick of grass on his elbow bare — The stream's cool mouth, — and a tiny wail From a haycock cradle scented rare. Passing vision ! swift reprieve — A mate's rough kick and the spell is by ! Then into the trench to hack and heave, Cursing his dream of a Summer sky. 85 SUN TO MOUNTAIN Because thine head is lifted up above The foot hills crouching at men's feet, Upon thy brow I set my changeless love. Sunrise shall wake Thee first, — sunset repeat My golden blessing from the distant West ; Till stars dispute protection of thy rest. 86 A M I R A C L E Swathed in grave clothes of clinging mist For three days dead the mountains lay ; Their brows by loving winds unkissed Entombed in clouds of endless grey. At twilight as a holy priest The sun in sacramental rays Came forth to bless the mourning East ; Beneath v/hose strong and peaceful gaze The mighty sleepers straightway woke From brotherhood of ghosts and night, Through rainbow death dews smiling broke, And rose in resurrection light. 87 THE WATERFALL When birds are hushed and winds be journey Vv^orn ; Listen ! Across the forest sleep is borne The white voice of the waterfall, that flings Her song unto the night from moonlit wings Whose iridescent feathers mark her flight Off her lone nest on some far craggy height ! AT HIGH TIDE Oh shining slaves that must forever bend ! Accursed waves that must forever strain ! What power draws thee, drives thee without end Along a pathway beautiful as vain ? Did'st thou betray the Goddess Moon above, To be imprisoned thus in green unrest ? Compelled to follow in enchanted love The magic vengeance of her jealous breast ? did'st thou once lift thyselves in praise divine, To be thus chained to her idolatry- Condemned in sight of Heaven still to pine In adoration of futility ? 89 At High Tide Oh shining slaves that must forever bend ! Accursed waves that must forever strain ! What power drives thee, draws thee without end Along a pathway beautiful as vain ? 90 VIOLETS Returning Violets ! How strong thy perfumes bring The throb of passions past recall I The ashes of immortal Spring Will smoulder on within thy fragile urn Though Love's blue flame in darkness fall — Her signal torches cease to burn. Thou art the spirit's flower, sole by earth possess't, Holy enough for Paradise ! Sad lovers lay thee on the breast Of those by fairer visions kiss't — W^ho soft enamored raise their eyes To that twelfth gate of amethyst. 91 Violets Back to the sunny Agora, in fragrant thrall, Where Athens lifts her purple brow O'er Violet mrls that call Thy wistful bloom, thou waftest me ; Love's classic garland still art thou — The very breath of poesy. Thy colors tint the joy of childhood's vagrant lanes, And hue the hills of old delight ; Tranced by the ichor in thy veins, Again I see a comrade's face Upturned to birds in dizzy flight — • And Hfe's long afternoon retrace ! 92 HAUNTED Sleeping or sleepless, — all the night One dream bewitched of odors sweet, One dream of lilies clad in light — Compels my spirit to their feet ! Of tall white lilies, — faint and frail. Whose breath beguiles to an abyss Of midnight heaven, to inhale Once more the moon's delaying kiss. I know not if their perfumes deep Glad any other garden dim, But down a lover's path of sleep They ever wake and watch for him ! Oh tall white lilies clad in light ! Ghosts of remembered paradise. Sleeping or sleepless, all the night I bear thee on my eyes ! 93 SOME HEARTS Some hearts are tempted in the glare of life — And others by sweet reckless love ; Some stake for glory, in their strife Casting themselves and God above. More, — fainting, — turn like monks and nuns, Not to forgetful cloisters grey Whose loveless form the sunbeam shuns, — But back to Nature's boundless v/ay ; Where, breathing deep of silence, — half a prayer, — Rust sheathes the sword beyond the call to arms, And hot blood cools in her dim forests fair As wind-loved sails, betrayed by coward calms. 94 CALVARY To bear alone beneath the stars of Palestine, Was task divine ; To bear as dogged Sparta bore, — trium- phantly, Man's mastery ; To bear, — and groaning win a fainting heart relief. Is common grief ; To laugh and bear, lifting unmoved a care- less face Upon the curious and thwarted populace, Frail women dare ! 95 THINE EYES Thine eyes still draw my soul unto thine own- Although our hands have strangers grown And lips have never dearer known ; Thine eyes all other loves dethrone, Thine eyes with passion flowers sown ! All that the tyranny of life denies — Heart-broken vows, unvoiced replies. Visions that swift forbidden rise — Live in the nearness of thine eyes ; Thine eyes too tender to be wise ! To love for some is just content, Just human heaven, — nothhig more For others just a sacrament, A keeping holy vows they swore. For me 'tis heaven 'neatli a spell, 'Tis starving, sating, vision-sore ; And alvv^ays in the face of hell, Lest life be as it was, — before ! 97 HIS TALISMAN Unto a child at bedtime The comfort of his toy, Unto a King in exile, A diadem for joy ; Unto my heart for courage Whate'er my peril be, God grant the hidden solace- One heart exalteth me ! 98 LOVE'S EXIGENCE The spell that held my wings against the sky Whose upper blue is deep as revelations be, Is broken now that she is gone ; The rival songs of flight are all too high — The jubilee of self is lost to me Among the choristers of dawn ! How God must love — to love her more than I, Who never counted God before — I swear ! But men who love and part must pray ; nor dare They squander one chance hope for some reply. Would he who fashioned her not intercede Togrant her joy from stress or mortal pain, 99 Loves Exigence When arms of flesh burn hot through joint and vein. To raise a stronghold for her spirit's need ? Ah, if men call me sanctified they lie ! The jealous fright of love far off descries Fate weaving treacheries with blindfold eyes — While God's solicitude my vigils buy. Almighty Love ! surround, lift up thine own ! That sundered hands may meet across lone worlds in thine ; If love like ours did blaspheme Thee, Take thy revenge — for both let me atone. Only for her turn water into wine. Thou God of Love's necessity ! MY LOVER The wind swept over a sail clad sea^ Tossing the ships aside. Worsting the gulls in its flight to me ; My arms I opened wide. It bent me in its rough desire^ Wreathed kisses in my hair ; My heart grew clean as whitest fire, My soul blown pure as air. Wandering lover, your breath in mine, Your strength in my failing will — Your very self like life's red wine My being seems to fill ! CROSS-WAYS One said, " I love you, — come to me ! However short the afterward may be, Though justice, envy, scorn of men agree : Love that has mocked at death our lives shall sway, Alone, how worthless an eternal day 1 " One prayed, " I love you, — beg you go ! Then drag the afterward however slow. Well purity and mercy know There is a passion of restraint that saves — Mighty as that which dies when it enslaves ! " HER MUSIC (uberselig) It trembled off the keys, — a parting kiss So sweet, the angel slept upon his sword As through the gate of Paradise we swept — Partakers of creation's primal bliss ! — The air was heavy with the breath Of violets and love till death. Forgetful of eternal banishment — Deep down the dusk of passion-haunted ways Lost in the dreamino; alchemies of tone — Drenched in the dew no other wings frequent, — Our thirsting hearts drank in the breath Of violets and love in death. 103 Her Music There was no v^orld, no flesh, no bound'ry line — Spirit to spirit, chord and dissonance — Beyond the jealousy of space or time Her life in one low cry broke over mine. — The waking angel drew a shuddering breath O^ violets and love and death ! 104 WRE CKED No one dreamed of a wreck that night, A hundred miles from sea ; The moon hung high her signal light Above the lilac tree. The tides of youth were hardly turned, There was no warning frown On Heaven's face, — while undiscerned An out-bound heart went down ! Oh sweet old-fashioned garden balms — A hundred miles from sea, How treacherous thy Summer calms ! Mirage of memory. los THE WORDS WE DO NOT SAY Deeper than chords that search the soul and die ;— Mocking to ashes color's hot array ; Closer than touch, — within our hearts they lie— The words we do not say ! loS THE NIGHT MY SWEET- HEART DIED I seemed alone in unknown worlds The night my Sweetheart died, — The stars hung in the tree tops dark Her out-bound soul to guide ; The wind strayed through the orchard calm, And laughing down the stream Came echoes of a bird song, Bewildered in a dream. Alone I waited, — unaware, — Close by the gate of death, While heaven turned her face away And Summer held her breath ; The drowsy roses, cheek on cheek, Forgot the chilling dew, 107 'The Night My Sweetheart Died The hours at their silent watch Were undismayed and true ; Till morning's shining horn at last Blev/ earth awake again And found my heart a homeless waif On foreign shores of pain. 1 08 HER GRAVE Since each spot where we parted upon earth is dear, And since our bravest, fondest parting met us here — I bring the changing flowers that her grave be dressed As fits the chamber last by her possessed. Finite can follow infinite but to this stile ; Good-night then, Love — a blessed afterwhile ! 109 THE SPIRE In dumb perfection stands the spire. Lone watcher of the night ; No frozen vigils ever tire This steadfast acolyte. Baptised in Dawn's supernal iire — It serves the Great White Thronej And all the stars in Heaven's choir Pray for their saint in stone. A PRIEST'S PRAYER Over the dim confessional cried Father Amatus — cloistered young — Dropping his rosary by his side, Careless where his crucifix swung. " I have been priest since — an endless when ! Sat by the living, consoled the dead, Fasted and prayed for women and men — Fed the poor with my daily bread. The wind blows cold — how the snow flakes creep ! 1 will sin one sin ere past recall. Lest life should faint in this pallid sleep ; Kiss me, Jessica — Once for all ! " FROM CARMENCITA'S RO- SARY Mother, thou holy Mother! bend to me For Raphael's bold sake so far away; Let him no lips of fresher color see, And for no other sweetheart pray ! Dear Mother, let the angels round him keep Their silent watch — men angels, Mother — lest He grow enamored in the land of sleep — So false a lover's heart at best. O, Virgin Mary ! should eyes dark as mine Kindle their wicked flames before his sight — Loose on his head anathemas divine. And curse him with thy sacred might ! From Carmencitd s Rosary Mother of Sorrows — I have danced to death The hot-red roses, crimson on my breast ! Few maids there be would raise such weary breath, To magnify thee ere they rest ! But I thy meek and pious child have been, And at thy shrine have ever bent my knee ; So listen now and grant, O Heaven's Queen ! My chaste petition unto thee. 113 IT DOTH NOT YET AP- PEAR Why pine and weep and for his sake rebel, Shut out by that last door of silence we Would see him ope immortal ! Let it be ! Nor fray our youth his future to foretell ; He lives while we fight where he valiant fell ! Our conflict sentenced by his stern decree, He lives to arm us in his majesty — While we construe his rigid purpose well. But if we later-comers fail — he dies ; Finding no heritage beyond his grave — Enough of present resurrection lies Within our mortal hands his work to save ! Rob not the dead ; oh, swift immortalize Him in the daily canon of the brave! 114 "HE CAME UNTO HIM- SELF" The wilted husks do mock my hollow sides — The harlot's laugh is drowned in drunken sleep, My doubt if love exists, derides The faith that will persistent creep ! I came unto myself! Long leagues lay steep Between me and that brother I de- spised, Whose acquiescent love of sheep Won the sweet flocks I never prized. Long leagues to go ! Already I am there ! For come unto m.yselfs my Father's breath He Came tmto Himself Burns on my breast as did he bear Me from the rot of shameful death. Not by the rioting of shrunken years, Not by the deeds of open blame. Shall I be judged, — but through glad tears As in Flope's vision swift I came Unto myself ! So weak of will and knees ; Spent with excess, — I may not reach his fold, Nor hear, save as I hear it now, the seas That wash against our distant mountains bold. Yet I am there ! I see the stricken face My wandering has blanched ; I will arise ! And seek the prodigal's embrace That in Love's own far country lies ! A HOUSE OF CARDS With creeping breath, and cheek whose flush betrays The patient passion of controlled intent, Our woman's palace card by card we raise — To fall before the careless step of one Who overlooks our ministries ; so bent On love, — he cannot heed her work un- done ! 117 A QUESTION Should you recall some long-lost sin to-night, Would your shamed eyes avoid the light So glorifying later years, For that sin's sake ? Or v/ould you turn your scoffing face away And to your world-worn spirit say, " Mere youthful folly washed in tears What heart need break ? " Which condemnation finds the heart to-night, Lingers that far off sin in black or white ? iiS BENEATH THE HILLS TO E. D. From the unshadowed Autumn afternoon The dawn-enraptured dead have turned away ; Absence alone companions me, as with The dwellers of forgetfulness I stray. This same forsaken calm my spirit wrapped When fixed in death's absorbed intent you lay; So unresponsive to my love I knew Your soul was with your dreams not with your clay ! 119 Beneath the Hills If one should find his need a phraseless prayer, Standing alone, — an exile set apart — Perhaps that unknown God would compre- hend Who chose the symbol of a broken heart. Strange, that a cross should be love's troth ! But no, Love is redemption if a love divine Lift love above the myrtle and the bay, Sharing its immortality with mine. Since death first found man out no hour is sure ! Too easy lies the path unto his door. Which trodden once, — betrayed security Like some disturbed bird will trust no more. From those far mansions of inheritance Upon the childhood of to-day shall we, — Maturer grown — castback a hallowed thought, And pity Love as Love was wont to be ? Beneath the Hills My mind is but a battle-field whereon Insurgent thoughts do war, repressed in vain; Fierce clamoring for reason's overthrow, Till dreams renew the bivouac of pain ! If I be dreaming overlong the dream ! I sicken for the waking ! Round my head The Spring's renascent wonders glorify An unfamiliar world — when life is dead. The wistful South wind for a fonder clime Searches and shivers; swift estranged the joy Of lone communings, solitary ways — ■ The pensive vagrancy of youth's employ. Yet, — yet love has no end! When halting feet Distrust their guide, are there not steady wings To find the harbor of those phantom sails, That seek no more the coast of mortal Springs ? Beneath the Hills How many centuries have eager strode, Only to pause at this same narrow gate ; Whose moss-grown hinge ne'er turns for baffled touch, Whose portal wears no light for those who wait ? God-haunted tenant of the fleshly frame. Cry out against the ignorance of dust ! Until some wrestling prisoner prevail To break these earthly bars of life and lust ! The same old burden ages younger hearts, The tragic problem wearies childish wills; While old beginnings press to unreached ends. Beneath the calm endurance of the hills. All passed, all gone their restless, vital way, Both those who heard and they who spoke the while ; Those by bereavement torn and those swift seized — Who joyed not in the milestone but the mile. Beneath the Hills Those Vv'ho remember are remembered soon ; Perished as vaguely as the smoke which stands For friendly cheer and ruddy hearth to-night- — ■ To-morrow black or lit by alien hands ! Labor and hunger here lie down to sleep — Swept is the dwelling, void of hope or fear ; Vanished the tyranny of human aims. Darkened the moon of man's reflected sphere. And yet your proud identity remains, Discreet and lowly neighborhood of God ; What mother mourns a universal babe ? What lover stoops to kiss a common sod ? I v/ill not have thee different in death ! Be vestured dim in shadow drapery, Or rugged comrade of the wholesome light — Thou art love's own, — and love will follow thee ! Beneath the Hills How strange that it could stranger seem to meet Thee now ! That life would reel and mystify- To see thy mounted figure gallant spurn Our upland pastures, — left behind to die! Though Spring all-henceward of thy waking fail, Oh hardier brother of the brier-rose, — Drawing her russet curtains round thy bed, The Fall is pillow for thy sure repose. Where I have watched the ferns go down the year In green, and clamber back in brown, — the Leap in the coppice,™ trickle through the dell, And sink into November's cloister gloom. Beneath the Hills The sedgey roadsides and the wooded slopes Do all preserve their sudden loneliness ; Thy season wonders, — unassuaged ; each day The golden courage of the sun is less. Thy homeless accents cry to me, — deep though Thy tranquil body lie within the shoal Between these hillocks low of bowing grass — Thy soul hath resting place within my soul. The fact of death is life's fermenting wine ; Before the dizzy majesty of chance Love quickens all her offices, — -each pulse Spurred apprehensive of the final glance. Pleasure and youth may wander at their will, Fame's cold achievement let each laurel fall, The birth cry of eternity nor hastes Nor fails ! Death, — death the heritage of all! 12S Beneath the Hills Oh world take back, thy bribe of certainty ! All man has fully known is dead or done ; Only the unseen way sufficeth us — To know in part infinity begun. The will that listeth in the seeking wind Eludes the craving tongue of prophecy. The spirit's mating and release are hid — The sea hath for her creed,— a mystery ! Ye champions of reticence ! Who tent Among the spangled cohorts of the dew, Ye unregretful pioneers of peace — No countersign for human hearts have you ? Now must my lone and living purpose pace Once more the open shore of stern resolve ; Shake off the passive musing of the dead, And 'mid the rival stress of men revolve. 126 Beneath the Hills Down Hope's green path to them " who overcome," The pledge of deathless compensation lies ; I take the chance ! And with the evening star Turn soft away to earn my paradise ! 127 m 8 laaa LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 799 585 6 # ,WiTHiN THE Hedge by Martha Gilbert Dickinson