Class 1-^'^3^Q »-S" Coipgktfl" Lli.1 CQEnUGHT OEFOSflg Beyond the Illoon Cordelia B. Makarius Copyrighted 1922 All rights reserved C1A690098 DEC 16 1922 ot^ TO MY MOTHER Who has stood by me in all my escapades INDEX OF TITLES Curtain 5 Sappho 6 When I Was in Ohio 7 Moon 8 A Song 9 Me 10 Why 10 Flash 11 The Soul 12 Reflections 12 A Rainy Day in Autumn 13 Living Lacquer 30 Immortality 14 1 Saw the Cows Come Home 18 Question 18 The Letter That I Did Not Write 16 May Morning 15 My Debt 17 Dilemma 17 On Reading Keats 30 Creed 19 A Prayer 20 Beyond the Moon 21-22 —Perhaps 23 Love Song 24 With You 25 The Bullet Factory 26 Circumstance 27 Diesolation 29 Wonder 28 Sahruh 29 I Am No Poet 31 Wander Lust 32 — Received Honorable Mention in "Poets of the Future" for 1921-1922. 4 CURTAIN The rain comes down in thin gray sheets And sHthers on the ground. Brown leaves just hanging by a thread Break sadly off and sail along Like bits of old brown cloth Flung by a careless hand From the window of a building Tall and slim. The half -gaunt trees now stand With withered arms thrown to the sky^ While last year's corn beside the road Bends lower to the rapid beat Of rainy needles hurling down. The earth sends up a pungent mist, A sting-like smell of old pine cones Or ground new ploughed and left to lie A gash with tiny seeds to heal. The sky appears and old gray slate That many a sponge has washed. The only noise that comes to ear Is the rasping caw of crows. A spineless figure dressed in clothes, ^ Stuck up to keep the birds away. Flaps with each gust of shifting wind. The rain comes down in thickening sheets. The tiny streams formed by the road Now turn to foot wide gully shapes, While all around is deep'ning gray Obscurity. SAPPHO Should some faint note Of Sappho's deathless lyre Come singing down the ages Here to me, I'd stand with ears astrain Lest in that brief, sweet, time I'd lose an instant's ecstacy. Who knows but in that touch Of her sweet lyric voice Some mark would stamp itself Upon my own. What greater joy than I should catch A breathless note, a lark in flight, For one short moment as it's poised, A bird caught in a poem WHEN I WAS IN OHIO When I was in Ohio With her yellow waving wheat, With her grasses and her gardens, And her clover blossoms sweet, I thought that seas were keener, And I longed for mountain heights. Her sweetly slumb'ring beauty For me held no delights. When I was in Ohio. When I was in Ohio I saw no rip'ning corn. No meadows larks entranced me With their songs at early morn. My eyes saw other pictures. Of fir clad, rocky hills. And sea gulls in the distance. And a dashing surf that chills. When I was in Ohio. Now I have left Ohio With her fences prim and straight, With her farms and farmers houses That show white painted gates. I see now all around me Grim hills with pine and fir, No gently waving grain fields Bend low as breezes stir. Now I have left Ohio Since I have left Ohio How much I've longed to see A straight white ribbon highroad Stretch out in front of me. I'm tired of fiercer nature With its bluff and rock grim look. I'd give a dozen mountains For just a peaceful brook. Since I have left Ohio. O MOON O Moon, that hangs half sagging, Half mounting in the sky. How near you are to my dear heart's desire. Perhaps, half knowing. In the solemn hush She learns from you my own heart's yearning fire. Guard her for me Who sees her not, You, who know the loves of all the world. Look down on her, then look on me. That I may perhaps a dim reflection see Of her dear eyes. Caress with gentle rays Her face upturned in rapture to your own. (Would that it were upturned to me.) My song of love convey to her, a song Which I send winging up to you. O Moon, enfold her with your light And loving you she will but dimly know That it is I ablend with your great soul In the graying dimness of the night. A SONG The songs of little birds, Why do they ring so sweet? Why do they tell my heart That all of joy is fleet? How can a song like that Bring pain beyond compare? How can they sing all day When I am dulled with care? The time was when I loved To hear each tiny trill. I knew not then what pain Their sweet notes could distil. Now each a mem'ry brings That's twice as cruel as Death. But had I not known joy, No song I'd need forget. ME In me no flame of genius burns With all-consuming fire, No call of all infinity, No gift, nor aged desire, But just the smallest talent dwells, A small gift not despised. The gift of life, of hope, of love, To see with open eyes. WHY The purpled clouds draw the sun to sleep— The loon calls clear and high — Slowly across the dying light The wild ducks circle the sky. The moon an answering signal gives To the stars in the deep'ning blue. Why in all this soul's suircease — Why do I call to you ? 10 FLASH It is not I who sit here listless By the window box. I am far away with you. This body has its familiar look, 'tis true I recognize its well known hands In a closed and half clenched Grip of wordless agony. I live but twice within the day. A signal brings a wakening life, The shrilling whistle of the man Who brings me word of you. His uniform of blue Is the rainment of the God that we Call Mercury; he who brought Glad tidings to and from the Gods. Should you forget he comes to me Then I cease to live again Until the afternoon. How can this existence that I have Be called a living life? It is not I who sit here listless By the window box. I am far away with you. 11 THE SOUL The soul is the song- of creation, The work of the master of songs. The greater the heart of elation The deeper the heart of the song. REFLECTIONS I see reflections in the water, Gray-green mirrors which are your eyes. I see reflections in the water. Moving objects which I cannot penetrate To reach the soul of my desire. 12 A RAINY DAY IN AUTUMN Secure within the lamplit room, Listening to the merry tune Of the raindrop patter, Silvery music, dripping, dripping, Sets the heart beat now to tripping To its merry chatter. Without, leaves turning slowly gold. Here green just red'ning in the fold Gleam now with rainy lustre. Shy brown ones like small birds in flight Drift here, ghde there and then they light Wind blown in a small cluster. Gray birds, rain foolish, sailing home Seeking shelter all their own Rouse others in safe shelter. Cold twittering drifts to warmer soundj, Soft music as they settle down Rain dripping helter-skelter. Thus twilight falls an Autumn day, Gold bright, red flamed, green-brown array With duller colors blending. Gay flags careening in the gale Which icy fingers soon will hail And Autumn's at its ending. 13 IMMORTALITY We walked the woods, Just you and I, And tread the leaves While passing by, Pressing them down into the earth. Carelessly we laughed and played. I, the man — you, the maid. We chased the butterflies on the hill, Down the valley, up to the mill Whose creaking arms made you trill With laughter. Oh, love is big And love is brave. Love comes to knight And comes to knave. But love came best to you and me. We laughed and then we sang away Our glimpse of God's eternity. Oh, the sun still kisses the hill of old, The leaves have turned from green to gold. But to my heart the same old Love returns. We walked the woods Just you and I, And tread the leaves While passing by. Pressing them down into the earth. 14 MAY MORNING I woke this morning to the sounds of May: Awake — my soul — awake. The jay's in the tree, the lark's in the nest : Awake — my soul — ^awake. From the little green bud that's peeping through To the shyest violet head so blue All of it's calling to me — to you. Awakei — my soul — ^awake. My heart is weary of the cares of men : Awake — my soul — awake. The joy's in the heart that is young again: Awake — my soul — ^awake. The brook is now singing its song to you As it slips through the glens of lacey dew Carrying its song the whole day through. Awake — my soul — awake. Oh, now is the time to gather the gold To make — my soul — to make The coin of the fairest faiiry realm. Awake — my soul — awake. The buttercups shall the payment be To buy a soul that is glad and free To bring my happiest hours to me. Awake — my soul — awake. My soul this morning did not heed in vain. It waked — ^anew — it waked. It laughed and played and was young again. It waked — ^anew — it waked. The buttercups brought the fairies out, The birds and the bees all played about, And round my feet in the brook the trout Awaked — my soul — awaked. IS THE LETTER THAT I DID NOT WRITE All the passion, all the hope, All the love I could have felt Flamed its way with pen of fire. Words that burned and tried to melt The heart so cold to my desire. All the hatred, all the wrath, All the white heat of my soul Wormed itself across the page. Worked in red on toward its goal. Hate that tried to last an age. All the worshipi, all the love. All the madness of my heart Flowed in easy streams of gold. Words that made the hate depart. Just the same mad love of old. 16 MY DEBT Now am I able to repay The debt I owe to you, For just one hour of perfect bliss, For just one sky of all blue? A kiss that has its price is bought. A thousand kinds are old. The kind that you have giv'n to me Is neither bought nor sold. So now I must forever be In debt to you. I swear If debt is sweet as this is sweet Then all of life is fair. DILEMMA My Muse, the gay elusive sprite. Deserted me one rainy night. Every trap was set for her The swish of birch and swish of fir The softened gleam of glowing pine, Red coals that sink, then flare up fine Blue flames that seem to sink again. I called to her aloud and then She laughed in holy glee at me, This madcap elf of Poetry. 17 I SAW THE COWS COME HOME I saw the cows come home. Stately they walked beneath the trees Whose shadows fell in huge dark blotches 'Gainst the gold of sun. I saw the cows come home. But in my soul I heard The stately tread of a thousand feet Beating hard the pavements at the end of day. QUESTION Why can't I puncture arrow-swift All moods, all loves, all things? Why can't I lose myself within The maze that insight brings? Why do I stand with calm outlook When deep I probe a wound Whose darting pain I've helped to give And drew the knife too soon? Why must I stand, a f leshless ghost, And watch the world go by? Why can't I sink my inner self In worlds of things and die ? 18 CREED The world that sits so snugly by Condemns the things I'm going to do. They'll shake their gloomy heads and brew- On ills of things that I will try. There is a spectre big that rules. Convention is its common name. It guards and stunts each one the same, This man-erected god of fools. They'll call me queer and nod in glee With "I told you so's" and other rot. They'll call me names that I am not And point the hand of scorn at me. What shall I care of what they'll do Or anything that they may say. My soul with high adventures plays, My God and I know what I do. I'd rather play as children play, Clean-minded, wild, and free. And let the old fools point at me As one who needsl must stay away. I'll sail grim seas and land on isles A thousand leagues away. I'll seek out lands where fairies play And sirens try their wiles. I'l worship hard at beauty's fire And whisper love songs, too. I'll do the things I want to do And leave the world its mire. 19 A PRAYER Lord God, Maker of Dreams Help me to play the game. I loved and lost, a sorry theme To bring before Thy Name. Help me to laugh the hurt away, To be a friend instead. Help me to keep the pain within. To keep far down the naked dread With which I face the dawn. The broken dreams, one by one. Help me to reconstruct. Let me not weep — a spineless toy — Tossed by a Fate abrupt. Help me to see Thy way my way With shoulders squared — a man of men. Help me, I pray Thee, to be true To myself as I know my best. Amen. 20 BEYOND THE MOON Pale moon agleam with ice-cold lustre, Queen regal of each starry cluster, Haughty monarch of cold universes, Pale maid whose splendor now immerses All the granduer of the other planets. What gorgeous flame would dare to fan its Life to seething masses of a hot desire? Pale moon that mocks with burnt out fire. sjc * * * Now mounting in a breathless dreaming Close to this blighted mass of seeming, Thin paleness turns to white-heat flame, A guardian to a dreamless name. Forbade desires and maddened brilliancies. Behind the door now opened to a million seas Of scintillating light and matchless jewels Comes vampired forms, the death of famished fools. No faint shades of pastel dimness stand profaned But shades of gory red, a mass untamed, Purples, robes of kings and queens of state ; Blues and greens, grim forms of hate; Gleaming yellows thrown 'gainst black, Crossing, massing, flashing back, 21 Seething toward a nameless whole. Golden birds strut on the bowl Of diamond fountains glinting bright. Silver birds reflecting silver light. Dreams that lie undreamed for years, Joys for Joys, Tears for Tears, Maddened dancers, motley throngs, Lives for Kisses, hearts for songs Leaping, falling, rising, singing. Mad desires and Love are swinging. One last crash of gleeful sounding Born through space and then resounding. * * * * Lessened din and fading glories. Drab again the pictured stories. No dreamless sleep can lay the boon, The land that lies beyond the moon, That lifeless mass of cold desire. Pale moon that mocks with burnt out fire. 22 PERHAPS When I see your eyes grow bright with pain (Those eyes that haunt me in my sleep) After a quarrel so uselessly begun And ended with a hurt to both, I weep. The longing toi possess you all in all, Emotion beast-like in its fury Haunts my soul that strives the outer door of you And seemingly thrown back upon itself Remains unsatisfied. Why do we quarrel — we who love too overmuch ? Except to find anew some poignant pain Like unto Love new bom within our hearts. We quarrel. We hurt. While eyes grow bright We love again. 23 LOVE SONG My soul flings its love song avaunt in the breeze. Carol and caroling on. Love and the birds bring sad hearts their peace. Carol and caroling on. Nothing so poignant, Nothing so sweet, Nothing so rich. And nothing so fleet, Carol and caroling on. Love in its garden grows flowers so rare. Carol arid caroling on. Gone from the heart all grief and despair. Carol and caroling on. Happy the flowers, Happy the bees, Happy the birds That flit through the trees, Carol and carohng on. Life's at its sweetest when Love is the mood. Carol and caroling on. Gone are all doubts with their heart- breaking brood. Carol and caroling on. Sweetest the fragrance, Sweetest the thought. Sweetest the heart That the bright day has brought. Carol and caroling on. 24 WITH YOU In the evening, When the day is done, Comes firehght cheer And friendly talk begun. Love's old and still So new sweet song Creeps silently Into the day so long. When thought with deeper Thought communes, And love of old books And older tunes Comes stealing softly Through and through, Then I am happy Just to be with you. I find a joy Of deep'ning thought And kindness For hard battles fought. And o'er your face When the firelight gleams The light of love And happiness seems Just to thrill me With that deep content That tells me this. That Love is meant To be the biggest Thing we do. And I am happy Just to be with you. • 25 THE BULLET FACTORY Gray mist of early morning — Dull black smoke hurling itself low over the city — The distant blare and grumbling of bells and whistles Each outstriving the other to rack the tired nerves Of the sleepy-eyed, highly rouged girls Bumping elbow to elbow with Hungarian men Reeking of garlic, — And flat nosed negroes whose blood-shot eyes and flat nostrils Add to the sickening mixture. The car rolls and bumps, Clangs and clamors for an opening in the traffic. Tired feet shuffle their way out down the half-lighted street Toward the shop ; Feet overly tired from the dance ofl, the night before. The watchman at the gate salutes each ; To one a terse remark, to another A greeting quite risque — All in the day's events. Again the clang of a bell. Will that sound never cease? It is the time clock. Push the card in the opening, Press the lever, then the bell. Oh, well, what's the use? Illy-ventilated, smelling of brass Whose particles blacken, the broken finger-nails. The room fills with struggling humanity. This time a louder blare of whistles. Grease drips, machinery hums, The arms go forward mechanically to grip The different levers. Bright row upon row of finished brass Leap from hands already tired. The day has begun. 26 CIRCUMSTANCE Beneath the good how far— but far above the great — Gray No clasping hand forwarns the welcome brought ; No smile of friendship greets the hearth's warm fire; No calming speech to deeper speech is sought ; No gladsome hours are spent with heart's desire. He dared to do— and daring in the deed Forewent the solemn trials of lesser creed. What matter that he gained through this a soul, Or daring reached through deeper hell a goal ? Greater souls from lesser seed have sprung. The Gods count well the deed that's better done. 27 WONDER I looked up to the smooth round bowl Of flawless blue we call the sky. Across the surface moved a cloud Fluffed out in rounded cotton shapes. Then, as if jealous of such grace A cloud of opal splendor came To try my feeble, mortal, sight. To charm me more it changed its hue. Content to shift and stud its pink Like shells the diver seeks for gain. It mocked me, laughing, its awed slave, As wonder-struck, grown mute, I looked. Then when its beauty grew too great And strove to break my aching heart Lo; just behind it gleamed a star, The star that lights the wearied traveler As he's homeward bound. God gives us eyes and hearts and souls But gives us niggard speech to tell The glory of His handiwork. 28 SAHRUH Like grasses by the sun-kissed banks Of tawny rivers, O Sahruh, Sweet grasses swaying lower still Stirred by the gentle breeze at noon Your lashes sweep on fairest checks And cover tawny pleading eyes As treach'rous as the river's flow. O Sahruh. A softened curve of cheek that leads To softer curves of rose leaf breasts Yield thoughts of sweet unfed desires. Come lie you down and bask with me While soft the breezes swaying low Bend willing grasses to their whim. Yield to the scent of lotus bloom. Let love its fullest measure take While soft the sun pours down its light On our dear couch of scented sweets. O Sahruh. DESOLATION My soul is a bruised water-lily. It raised itself above the calm Of the placid waters of content To the warm red air of hot desire. Now it droops half broken in the cool green leaves Of hopelessness. 29 LIVING LACQUER Like black lacquer Carved by Japanese Gleams back and forth With fierce lustre Shadows on moving waves. Black on green, green turning black, Many formed and many patterned, Snaky paths of shining glory, Gleaming shadows on moving waves. ON READING KEATS Words of exquisite sweetness: Each wafting perfume as the musk-rose, Paying homage to the new moon. Opens her petals to show anew Her heart. Or, as, in the passionate stillness Of the hushed summer afternoon The bee sips drowsily his treasures From hearts of flowers filled With gold. So, honey-sweet, fall the words From a pen that fills but does not satiate. 30 I AM NO POET I am no poet some will say. Perhaps they may be right. I am no poet when it comes To singing all the sweetest songs That nature sings to me. I am no poet, this I know For other reasons too. I can't interpret all the moods, Or even half the thrill I feel When music masters me. I am more speechless at the sound Of violins whose sweetest notes Set my heart swinging to their beat Than slaves are speechless 'fore their kings. I can not write about the eyes Where I discover empires lay. Nor can I write about the Hps Whose sweetest kiss I stole one day And found the joy it brings. I can not tell the colors rare When Autumn paints her hues. Nor can I tell the sweet perfume Of flowers when the springtime sings In racing through earth's hardened veins. If I could tell just half of these And make you see them too. Then I'd be more than poets are. I'd be a God-head too. 31 WANDERLUST I long to go on the broad highroad, Laughing and glad and free, My arms flung out to the gleaming west, Just my kit, my books, and me. Running on the highroad. Skipping down the byroad, Heigh O with me. My head thrown back to the playful breeze That blinds me with my hair. I'd turn around the other way And stream it in the air. Running on the highroad. Skipping down the byroad. Heigh O with me. In rain or shine or gloomy weather. Light of heart and lighter feet, A gay young song I'd hum awhile To every one I'd meet. Running on the highroad. Skipping down the byroad, Heigh O with me. A song I'd sell for a bit to eat: Most every one would buy. For who is there to resist a song When there are songs to buy? Running on the highroad. Skipping down the byroad. Heigh O with me. But here I sit and long for roads. Roads that are long and free. But every duty that exists Keeps my highroad from me. There's no Running on the highroad. Skipping down the byroad, Alas for me. 32 UBRARY OF , CONGRESS 015 929 312 J