PS 3509 9£Z Changing Moods By GEORGE ELLISTON Class ?5?>,ro<\_ Book. >LfcfeC 51 CopightN _l4_&J2^ COBXRIGliT DEPOSIT. CHANGING MOODS Changing Moods By GEORGE ELLISTON CINCINNATI Sign of the Pen and Pad 1922 p&^ ol C* Copyright, 1922, by GEORGE ELLISTON SEP 25 '22 C1A681897 TO MY FRIEND PENELOPE STRATTON SHANNON CHANGING MOODS II THE UNFORGOTTEN 12 BEAUTY THE WHIMSICAL 13 SUMMER 14 LOST YOUTH 15 MAGIC l6 MONOTONE 17 QUIET STREETS 18 INQUIRY 19 WHEN LOVE COMES LATE TO WOMEN 20 SANCTUARY 21 BEAUTY 22 APRIL IMMUNE 23 SOUL ALIVE 24 GOLDEN WEDDING BRIDE 25 BLUE HOLLYHOCKS 26 BRIMMING CUP 27 APRIL 28 IN TRAFFIC 29 LONGING 30 INTROSPECTION 3 1 CANDLELIGHT SONGS 32 7 AFTER DEATH 33 POETRY 34 END OF THE MAY 35 LAMENT 3 6 OLD SHIPS 37 RESURRECTION 3^ PARTING OF THE WAYS 39 SINCERITY 4° CANDOR 4 1 THE REJECTED 4 2 DEAR GHOSTS 43 THE SPIRIT 44 FIGHTING COURAGE 45 GREENWICH VILLAGE 4^ THE USUAL STARS 47 HILL BELOVED 4 8 OH THAT I MAY HAVE LOVE 49 CHOICE 50 CHILDLESS WOMEN 51 INDIAN SUMMER 5 2 CHANGING MOODS CHANGING MOODS TAThirlwind they come and go These changing moods of ours. Mysterious ebb and flow — Today, weighed down with grief Is swept with pain and woe Passing faith or belief- Tomorrow, love will live Again, the soul take hope In what its heaven map give. Like phantom figures on A screen, these changing moods Here for a breath— and gone. ii THE UNFORGOTTEN npODAY, you whispered to me From the lilac hedge you loved- What's death but mockery? All day you've been beside me. Down by the meadow bars This morning first I knew, And now beneath the stars — Nothing can keep you from me. Death has but made you dearer Who live within my soul ; Death has but brought you nearer In life and death to me. 12 BEAUTY, THE WHIMSICAL "DEAUTY is a curious elf; To some she shines in glory, In silver rain and in blue delf — From others hides her story. Once I saw her in a smile So wan and woe-begone: And yet there for a little while Was beauty like the dawn. Sometimes she is stalking pain, Sometimes rioting, Sometimes in a country lane Where the violets sing. Beauty is a curious elf, Whether friend or foe; Loveliest when just herself Any heart may know. 13 SUMMER CO beautiful is summer I hang it on a bough, And bending down I worship, My soul enthralled in Now. So beautiful is summer I fling it to the ground, And revel in the music And the mystery of its sound. So beautiful is summer I clasp it to my breast; It is so weirdly lovely, I cannot stop nor rest. So beautiful is summer I snare it to my heart, And pray to be made worthy Of half its subtle art. 14 LOST YOUTH YOUTH* went by me in the night And I knew her not; Blind to all her rosy light, Pity me, my lot. Now the need of laughter lacking Haunts my waking thought, Like a wild thing blindly tracking In a forest caught. I would know what never can be; Lend me bitterness, All my own does nor suffice me What I would express. 15 MAGIC HP HERE in the garden's center Is a merry singing fountain, Its lilting song I fain Would know. Winds that blow, Birds that fly Gaily by Seem to catch the rhythm. Why not I? Might I know the words? Fountain won't you tell? Or would that break the spell Of song Sung so long To rose and bee And listening tree; Ah, perhaps best not Tell it me. 16 MONOTONE ALARM clock at six-thirty — A lazy consciousness Of life's returning force, And then a vague, vague guess As to the vivid sound. Conviction and a sudden Sense of righteous duty: Apparel quickly donned, A smell akin to beauty — Ham an' the day's begun! Newspaper to be read, A street car to be caught, And hurry, rush and hurry, All these things duly wrought — Downtown's at last achieved. And now the busy day Of office work — oasis At midday; then, five-thirty — Hurry — one must not miss The home-bound trolley car. So does the city live In breathless speed, its tide Of tasks bound in between Morning and evening ride — Tomorrows all alike. 17 QUIET STREETS COME live in quiet streets And naught of all the noise and sound Touches their consciousness. They live serene, aloof, profound Unto themselves, but out Of traffic's dim and mad dismay, Their only contact with This world as with a foreign fray Seen in a dream, unreal, untrue Peace traps the souls of those Who live always in quiet streets, Content with piecemeal life, Content with their inane retreats. Dead e'er their death, the real Rejected and the days gone stale — Better one vivid day Of effort, though that one day fail, Than quiet streets a thousand years! 18 INQUIRY ■yyHY should I know longing For the plains who never saw them? Why should there come thronging In my mind the dreams of gentian — Who have only heard the mention Of that lovely flower or seen It perhaps upon a screen? Why should I know longing For the loves that poets sing — With the city noise ding-donging Ever through a tired brain Hurrying homeward in the rain? Did I somehow, somewhere know These things in some long ago? 19 WHEN LOVE COMES LATE TO WOMEN VOU speak of love and I thrill to the sound Because I love you too — profound — This thing that comes a shimmering light Sweet as cool rain in summer night — And yet I am afraid, afraid. There is a treasure I would not give up For all life's riches in my cup, And when I look into your eyes And see the promised paradise, It seems a snare through centuries laid. What is your love and what it is you seek, Not what would make my own life bleak? You will not sink my soul to where It has no breath but your soul's air? Men have — and I'm afraid, afraid. 20 SANCTUARY T ITTLE room. Last night we met as strangers, And I. worn out with dangers, My heart and soul beset With worn.*, fear and fret. Fleeing from noise and sound. Found you and sleep profound. Little room That held me in your arms. Sheltered from dread alarms Secure throughout the night, I humbly crave the right. Stirred deep by your endeavor, To call you friend forever. 21 BEAUTY "yUTHY do the idle weep That in the wake Of beauty there comes grief? Often it is relief When loveliness is brief. It is enough for me That beauty is — To hunt it to its lair, To find it unaware, To know it everywhere. 22 APRIL, IMMUNE TVFEW warmth in ling'ring twilight, New hope in stark grey trees Whisper the miracle Alive in each smug breeze. I, too, wait longingly, But I shall wait in vain, For what my soul is seeking — Earth will not know again. Somewhere he too is finding, Who sleeps in far off France, This April so forgetful Of bitter circumstance. 23 SOUL ALIVE Tl/TY days are drab and commonplace, But, oh, my dreams, my dreams — Days may be dour, but oh, God's grace, My dreams, my golden dreams! I travel over magic seas In fair white sailing ships Who never have felt the salty breeze Nor been where sea foam drips. Never a port is closed to me Nor to adventuring: Oh, dull and blank my days may be, But my soul can sing and sing What if I'm tied from eight to five, My dreams atone, atone. By grace of God my soul's alive And comes into its own. GOLDEN WEDDING BRIDE TDRING me little trophies Of the dear dead long ago: Sudden smiles and kisses Not premeditate and slow — Fifty years we're married, But, my dear, some souls stay young And I'd die where springtime lingers With her violets unsung. Youthful joy and laughter I'd have with us to the end, Garlands of the May days Shining out around each bend; Memories — just a background — Not confused with what's ahead; Singing lips and merry hearts To meet the happy dead 25 BLUE HOLLYHOCKS TF only when the world was new They'd made some hollyhocks in blue, My garden plot would be perfection. I like the pink ones very much, And red ones give a gorgeous touch, But oh, for a hollyhock sky-blue Can't you just see them on the stalk Extra stately, there by the walk, With a heavenly trellis of white behind? Hollyhocks white and hollyhocks red Are wonderful things for a flower bed; But a hollyhock blue — oh, heart's desire! Hollyhocks red are vivid fire, And of hollyhocks yellow I never tire. Hollyhocks one and all I love But a hollyhock mirroring the blue of the sky- It is useless and futile for me to deny — Would be of all flowers the one I'd love best. 26 BRIMMING CUP TWTY Cup of Happiness filled up — Filled up to its clean round rim With youth and love, oh, wonder cup — They bubbled over the brim. But I was afraid to drink — afraid Of life and poverty. I was betrayed by my fears — betrayed, And my cup was lost to me. Once more my cup is full — once more, After the long, long years; But wisdom and gold are now its store And my drink is salt — for tears. 27 APRIL A PRIL that lays wet fingers on The world with such reward, Alladin of a hundred dreams That need each one a bard. April, Magician of the year, Whose touch is life, whose breath Has in it wondrous alchemy That triumphs over death. April, the best beloved of all — Fantastic, glorious time Of new born life and Robin's call, To you once more a rhyme. 28 IN TRAFFIC VOUR passing — Perhaps it was a word Or just a glance Something deep down you stirred Sharply — as with a lance — And I see violets of spring. Your passing — Strange that I cannot tell How you have snared my mind And cast a magic spell My soul has not denned — But all the woodlands sing. Your passing — Like some old melody Haunts me through many days Clear-cut, — twang of salt sea In traffic's dull amaze — Keeps me remembering! 29 LONGING TF only you would come to me tonight — When all the world is shining silver bright And hold me close against your throbbing heart, As if I were, in deed and truth, a part Of your existence evermore. If only you would come ! My soul would be as crimson as my blood, For my whole being's swept as with a flood By longing for yourself, flesh touching flesh, Your hand in mine, your hair's bright shimmering mesh Against my cheek. Oh, my dear love, If only you would come! 30 INTROSPECTION HTHE road to yesterday Is burdened with a catafalque Mysterious and grey. I dare not lift the pall From off that dark slow-moving train — For fear one voice might call. Then would I never go Toward those dull undesired tomorrows That I long not to know. 31 CANDLE LIGHT SONGS OING me songs of candlelight, Sweetheart, for the day's been hard, Bring into the early night Lyrics of an humble bard. Nothing tedious or staid, Just some treasured heartfelt tune Softly on the twilight laid Drifting in with dusk and moon. Something you can chant, my dear, Gently, like a lullaby, Something simple and sincere — Songs that help men live and die. 32 AFTER DEATH "QEATH of itself is not my thought, For those adventures that fate has brought Make it as natural as life or birth Or the turning round of the curious earth. But this is the thing that my thoughts ponder As I gaze out on the garden yonder — What growing things shall spring from my clay When it has served me for my little day? Once long ago a Persian sighed For wine for his dust when his body had died; But the thing that would mean the most to me Would be for my dust to cherish a tree. 33 POETRY "*X7ITHIN my heart there glows A gay white light — Lovely as some bright rose. Through struggle storm and sorrow This light is mine Illumining all tomorrow. Life would be naught to me Without my light, The flame of poetry. 34 END OF THE MAY T HAVE your love, and yet Life is no easy thing, For I want no regret In Love's adventuring It weighs so on my thought — This love that brightly flowers- That sometimes, overwrought, I keep unhappy hours. Not that I doubt you — no — But that I dread the day That tests love's steadiest glow, The ending of the May. 35 LAMENT T? VERY sort of love I knew, But now I have forgotten. Tender, oh, and very true, A scheme whose core is rotten That can take from love and laughter — Grimly to unknown hereafter — You, that were the essence of the May. Every sort of love I knew, But why should I remember? Fate is but an ugly shrew, And June is as December. I am put to utter rout; You that were my light gone out Suddenly, before the dawn of day. 36 OLD SHIPS T WHO had longed for fame 9 In youth, who saw my name Shining in silver light, Renown, star bright, And gave up all to be Mother and wife, am free Long since of all regret. Those dreams I hearkened to, Those ships that sailed the blue, Have come at last to harbor: All I longed for — My son, who brought them in Has cancelled might-have-been And glorified the sunset. 37 RESURRECTION Y OUTH lav dead within me, And never made a sign. Love will bury youth When you give it by design. Youth was dust and ashes, And not a rose tint lay Upon the fearful sameness Of the grey and usual day. And then — without my bidding — Came love that laughs like glee. Dear God, the resurrection! Youth riots now in me! 38 PARTING OF THE WAYS "fX/E come to parting of the ways Whose lives love once bound up together For all of time, but now naught stays Of that close tie but memory. And strangest of sad things, my heart Is empty of all feeling now ; Complaisant, as we go apart, Bankrupt of all emotions' wealth. And yet my mind knows this always, Though love is dead and at an end, That which was you — oh, strange amaze — Is mine unchanged for all of time. What each of us will be, remains Our own — but those dead years are fixed: In what we build the soul retains The you and me of yesterdays. 39 SINCERITY T CAN bear your moods — But — never come to me When that thing intrudes That is mockery. All the love you want For your love I'll give, But you must not flaunt Love that's like a sieve. While you are my lover All your heart I'll claim, Nothing under cover — Nor what's just a name— I'll bear anything, Anything, my dear, While to me you bring Love that is sincere. 40 CANDOR A LITTLE wind swept, ** And a little late Women are asking Candor of fate. The old and accepted Defeated— are gone— And women, standing In a new dawn, Are taking new duty, Seeking new power, Scorning traditions Of the old hour. In the loud clamour Come wonder with me. Are women happier Now, being "free"? 41 THE REJECTED CORROW came sighing in the night, And hastily I shut my window, Afraid with a sudden, nameless fright, That would not know, that would not know. Sorrow passed by, and all my days Move as a placid sunlit sea. Yet in my heart a stranger stays — There is a curious vacancy. Wide is my casement now, inviting, For my heart sickens with its joy, And all my soul is withering, And life that's like a child's gay toy. Somehow I know it is too late, I cannot lure adventure back. I, who have shunned one gift of fate, Shall lack and lack — and always lack. 42 DEAR GHOSTS ^HIS, then, I write for you After the years, the tears, the fears, As I see now what's true, As calm discretion nears, The things that tried me most, The bitter pain, the strain, the rain, Those things like some dear ghost Stayed on, when I would fain Have lost them out of life — And now their blight and night and fright, Their hurt and harm and strife, These make the final light, The glory of my days. 43 THE SPIRIT Y ou must not dull tne Spirit, Nor dim its high white light, For it is the shining presence Dividing the day from the night. You must not break the Spirit, For as long as it rides high, Nothing in all this world Its power can defy. You must not kill the Spirit, For a man whose soul is dead Is lost to high achievement, And his final prayer is said. 44 FIGHTING COURAGE /7* RANT me a courage, Lord, That visions victory Upon the darkest day When fears would vanquish me. Grant me a courage, Lord, That in the dreariest hour Can see, beyond, the light Of Conquest's shining tower, Grant me a courage, Lord, That strengthens with the sorrows, That moves assured to meet The grimmest of tomorrows. 45 GREENWICH VILLAGE XJE moved into Bohemia, Bohemia, Bohemia, A-looking for extremia And rare and curious dreamia, And what he found was — Dirt. Old windows that throughout the night Glowed like old moons with mellow light, Old crumbling steps that had allure, Their faults by candlelight secure, All these the day revealed And even in Bohemia, Bohemia, Bohemia, That land of bold extremia, Men were the same, though seamier, Amid the grime and — Dirt. 4 6 THE USUAL STARS r\H storm-wracked soul, look up To where the usual stars Serenely deck the cup Of darkened sky. The usual stars! Life moves On through accustomed grooves, In spite of human pain, In spite of sorrow. Take comfort then, let grief, After its due, be brief, Remembering sorrow is But part of life. 47 HILL, BELOVED /~\NCE more the sun is shining there — Upon my hill, that I have loved So long, and bracing autumn air Bids me climb up, who long to climb, I think I have no greater pain In growing old than this regret — Of knowing I shall not again With eager feet mount to the top. Trees of my hill shall bloom and fruit, The flowers sway to bees and rain, And winds shall make a golden lute Of leaves and grasses growing high — And I shall not be there to know — Nor here, after a time, to dream — But this is true, wherever I go, There will go with me — this hill beloved. 48 OH THAT I MAY HAVE LOVE (~)H, that I may have Love — Love for the flowers and bees, Love for the birds and trees, For stars and shining seas. Oh, that I May Have Love! Oh, that I may have love. Love of all life about. I want no cynic's doubt, When my frail soul goes out. Oh, that I may have love! 49 CHOICE T CARE not if my days be short, If I may live them to the full. But in the bright gay-hued retort I want no commplace or dull. Life is not in a length of days, But in a bold adventurous plan I hold, the Swift has great amaze — Oft knows the best of what he ran, Gaining or losing, who shall say? For the standards here — are they worth while? Oh, I will take the shorter day, That is brimming full, with a cheer and a smile. 50 CHILDLESS WOMEN IN childless women's eyes A misery of lacking lies. Under their gaiety is woe And this, one feels, they do not know: The glad joy of the blue bird winging — The freshness of the morning singing — The depths of roses brightly glowing — The soul of things they should be knowing. In childless women's eyes There shines no glimpse of paradise — Their loss, who miss the high white cross Of motherhood, eternal loss. 51 INDIAN SUMMER "PJAYS of Indian Summer, Hazy, Lazy days, Stirring all my soul To wonder and amaze. Days made just for dreaming By the gold corn's gleaming, Days of mystery — All you hold for me! Memories sweet and tender, Twilights lost and gone Sacred to old years That have now sped on. Oh, that just by dreaming By the gold corn's gleaming, I could bring once more All my treasure store. 52 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 873 349 3