PS 3521 N4 S8 1914 Copy 1 ') ii l,o\m- Book Copyright ]J?- COPYRIGHT DEPOSm SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW BY LOUISE W. KNEELAND BOSTON SHERMAN, FRENCH 4- COMPANY 1914 Copyright, 1914 Sherman, French & Company AUG -7 1914 ©CI.A379052 TO THE GREAT MOTHER CONTENTS PAGE Ode to Beauty 1 To A Flower 5 The Singer and the Song 6 The Choice 7 One 8 Song 9 The Cup 10 Love's Fulfillment 11 The Wind and the Sea 12 The Interlude 13 Love's Communion 14 I Buried my Love 15 The Unveiling 16 The Storm 17 To A Butterfly 18 A Bird's Note 19 As ITS Scent to the Heart of the Rose . . 20 Love's Phantasy 21 The Visitant 22 The Gift 23 Twilight 24 The Great Magician 25 Song of the Singing Leaves . . .... 26 PAGE Nightfall 28 Wind of the Hills 29 Winds of March 30 June 31 Autumn 35 Gray Skies 36 The Driven 37 Winter 38 Twilight 40 Kiss me, O Death 41 Hail! 42 To New York City 43 Whited Sepulchers 45 A. D. 1913 47 Springtime 49 The Warning 50 I Cannot Rest by Night or Day ... 51 The Soul's Reveille 52 Resung through Ages 53 The Oath 54 The Red Dawn 56 Daybreak 57 Song 58 Starlight 59 A Summer Song 60 I Know a Rippling Brook 61 The Home Call 63 Ad Astra 64 The Conqueror 65 As Clouds are to the Sun 67 PAGE Love's Invitation .... .... 68 The Old Song 69 The Desired 71 Companionship 72 Why Grievest Thou? 74 The Lost Paradise 75 Leaves 76 The Lonely One 77 The Net 78 The Smile 79 Beside the Sea 80 Finis 81 Dreams 82 Lovers' Vows 83 A Rose Bloom 84? Mortality 85 Brothers 86 On Friendship 87 Slayer and Slain 88 The Singer 89 The Test 90 The Secret 91 The Difference 92 The Spiral 93 But when to haunts of men Returned, what ills appear! Gaunt Poverty, grim And bare, steals through The streets with Hunger As a guide, and these With Crime, all foul And blackened, and with Death, the pale Deliverer, Are soon companioned. O Heavenly One, Where now thy glorious Freedom and delight ! Thy blissful calm! Yet half's not told, For in the wake of Crime Comes Justice, born of men. Abhorrently deformed. Who, with a leer. Grants Privilege the right To plunder undismayed, But mocks at Poverty With an outward show Of benefit and secret Wrong. How reconcile The peace of green retreats With scenes like these? Hast thou no power, Divine One, in the homes Of men, that these things he? Why are we left Lamely to battle With such hideous foes When Nature in the comfort Of thy smile securely Rests? What meaning In thy strange disdain Of human ways, O Beauty, say! Oft in my dreams Through childish voices Shrill with pain I hear Bright song and rippling Laughter flow, and spite Of grime and filth In reeking streets see templed Cities rise. In dreams ! In dreams ! See harsh Injustice step aside For Truth and Love, And all thy banners wave. But 'tis in dreams ! How make of such sheer Fabrics stately pillars Of some lasting shrine To thy dear name 1 Is this the secret of thy Seeming negligence of men: That we should have 3 Occasion freely given By such an enterprise To prove our love for thee? O Beauty ! ever do Thy swiftly flying feet Me by strange paths And hidden ways To faery haunts allure. TO A FLOWER Joy of the earth ! Exquisite flower ! In the wildwood I found thee, Nestling alone, and thy strange power Weaves still its spell around me. THE SINGER AND THE SONG I HEARD a wild bird singing Across a darkening sky, The song with rapture ringing Proclaimed the nest near by. The storm, ah, swift descending. Destroyed the nest and bird : The song with joy unending Still in my heart is heard. THE CHOICE O CUP of pain, pass me not by, But give to me thy dreaded dream. Let whoso will sip nectar, Or quaff the ambrosial stream ; To me the bitter lees, To me the crown of biting thorn. The gaping wounds, the robe of scorn. For master of the gods am I Who dare such ways as these. ONE I LOOKED in God my Father's face And said: " / would be even as Thou ! " He smiled and veiled His face. So now, Alone I fight my upward way awhile Until once more before the Father's throne I stand, and look into His face, And see Him smile. 8 SONG Sunken and sodden with rain is the ground, Withered and fallen the leaves of the tree, But like a fire, like a flame that the wind has found Is the thought of thy love unto me, unto me. Gray are the clouds like a pall overhead, Fitful and sad is the moan of the sea. But as the song of a bird when the night is fled Comes the thought of thy love unto me, unto me. 9 THE CUP Let me drink of the cup of thy lips, O my Beloved ! Then to my soul come rest and release from pain. The very ecstasy of joy, O my Beloved! Let me drink of the cup of thy lips again ! again ! I have drunk of the cup of thy lips, O my Beloved ! When the cold hand of death on my heart hath lain. Thou hast brought life from the still grave, O my Beloved! Let me drink of the cup of thy lips again ! again ! 10 LOVE'S FULFILLMENT I HAVE longed for thee, Beloved, As the moon longs for the sea Where she draws him to her And gives herself in a passionate Flood of silver light. And is satisfied, is satisfied, Being one with him she loves. And I have yearned for thee. Beloved, As for the moon yearns the sea When he leaps to meet her caressing touch And gives himself in the endless flow Of his restless tides, And is satisfied, is satisfied. Being one with her he loves. Even so I have longed for thee, O Beloved, And have yearned for thee, my Beloved, And have given myself and received of thee And am satisfied, am satisfied. Being one with thee, with thee whom I love. Ill THE WIND AND THE SEA The wind and the sea they follow me, follow me, follow me ever, they rest nevermore ; The wind and the sea they hollow me, hollow me, hollow me, wailing, a grave far from shore. " Oh, whose is the voice in the wind's endless moan. And whose is the voice in the cry of the sea? " 'Tis the voice of my dear one, who wanders alone, 'Tis the voice of my dear one that calls unto me. Beloved and lost, I'll follow thee, follow thee, fol- low thee swiftly, we'll part nevermore ; The wind and the sea they hollow me, hollow me, hollow me, wailing, a grave far from shore. 12 THE INTERLUDE Dearest ! I think of thee ! Far through the shadowy night Thy spirit calls to mine. Through thee both love and joy Are given me, and these hours, These waiting hours divine. 13 LOVE'S COMMUNION When day beyond earth's distant rim conceal- ing Her glorious star, to night resigns the peaceful hour, Then through the silent shades of evening steal- ing* Thy soul exhales its fragrance like some mystic flower. Oh, gently, as to fond hearts recollections Of old time pleasures come and May-day joy. Now come to me divinely-hued reflections Of all the spirit's bliss when freed from life's alloy. All tender things, all beautiful and holy Do from thy inmost thought enfold and com- fort me; Thine is this hour, Belov'd, and oh, thine solely. Secure from earthly ill, the heart that longs for thee. 14 I BURIED MY LOVE I BURIED my love last night ! Oh, deep! deep! The cold winds crept through the tangled grass, The wild winds lifted the oozy mass And we laid him where never a foot may pass. Oh, I buried my love last night, last night, And his grave is so deep ! so deep ! The sun rose radiant in the glassy sky, The flowers they danced And the birds sang sweet. But over it all I heard a cry That will ring in my ears till the river runs dry. Oh, I buried my love last night, last night. And his grave is so deep! so deep! I buried my love last night, last night — Why lies he so cold in his sleep ? 15 THE UNVEILING The woods are still. The lifeless air nor stirs Nor bears a sound. From depths profound Rise the tall trees With all their patient, Steadfast growth of years Straight to the sun. Thence, from enchanted quiet To quiet down-dropping The silence falls Till even in that death-like hush There comes a pause. And then in swiftest greeting My heart leaps to my lips And my head is bowed. For in that stillness Is a Presence: It is Thou ! 16 THE STORM I HEAR you call, wind that drives the rain, Mad with pain At losing all ! 1 hear you call. Oh, wildly call. As I, too, call, In vain ! In vain ! I hear you fall Fast through the dripping trees. On dead leaves, O rain ! On all The dead you fall. Oh, fast you fall. As my tears fall. In vain! In vain! 17 TO A BUTTERFLY Hey! little rover Over the clover, Whither away ! Whither away ! Gaily you flutter by Under the sunny sky, Off for the day — The long summer day. You gather life's delight. You carefree, tiny mite. White blossom of May, Wandering astray! I'll join the chase with you. Sip balm and honey dew. With you I'll play. Oh, gaily I'll play Lost to the world's old pain. Back to the fields again — Hey ! little rover Over the clover. Let us away. Oh, let us away ! lid A BIRD'S NOTE Hark! Through the soft, cool, flower-scented dark, A bird's note. Liquid, compelling, Afloat On the stillness of night. And telling In accents divine. Of the capture. Through Love's pain, Of Love's rapture. Once again Swells the throbbing appeal. Making real All the life of the soul. Its depth and its height. All its passion and pain. And its rapture. Hark! Afloat On the stillness of night, Through the soft, cool, flower-scented dark, A bird's note. 19 AS ITS SCENT TO THE HEART OF THE ROSE As its scent to the heart of the rose, The sway of the grain to the wind that blows, So art thou to me, my Beloved. As the song to the throat of the bird, To the ear the fond voice that is heard, So art thou to me, my Beloved. As to the star is its gleaming. To earth is its teeming Through sun and through shower With fruit and with flower. As to the word is its meaning. To youth is its dreaming. To life is life's ecstasy. So, even so, art thou unto me, Unto me, my Beloved, O Beloved, even so Art thou unto me ! SO LOVE'S PHANTASY Once more the bird-song greets the rose. On dancing ripples gleams the sun. Astir in dewy fields there hums the bee, While in the wood's cool shade I sit and wait. So soft the summer air, So blue the violets are, I dreamed it was but now You kissed me, lingeringly. And deep within your eyes I saw love's haunting smile. Oh ! was it long ago ? 21 THE VISITANT My soul cries aloud to thee, Divinest Mystery ! Oh, from what worlds unknown Visit est thou me? Caught in the whirl of circumstance. Held by the magic of that mystic dance Am I, who would be free; Yet in that bondage fast There comes to me from out the vast, Thy touch ethereal. But swift from the haunts of men Vanishest thou, and then My soul cries aloud to thee! O Love! hearest thou me? THE GIFT I SOUGHT, O Love, To lay upon thy shrine Some perfect gift In memory of all Thy glowing hours, Thy rapturous days. The beauty of the stars I thought 'twould be. The spring's fair flowers. Some bird song Sweet and wild. From end to end of earth I sought that perfect thing — But could not find. The beauty of the stars had fled. The songs all silenced were. Faded the flowers. Then Life, smiling divinely. Laid upon my heart Her hand, heavy with pain. And now, O Love, Take these, my tears. 23 TWILIGHT The daylight fades. Little quivering breaths of air Stir in the trees. All sounds are hushed. Now purple twilight steals Through all the world And holds us with its Soft and tender comforting As gently as the arms Of those we love. The busy day is done. The hour of peace is here. A little while it stays, then Slips away and leaves us With a memory of things Infinite and beautiful. THE GREAT MAGICIAN And one there is who by his "magic art Takes of the past and, as to him seems good, Builds with it the future, wondrous, beautiful, With all the glory of the days of old, But more, diviner revelations, unheard of splen- dors. Great vistas opening to new heights, far plains And stretches of a boundless sea, so that men say: " Come, let us leave the narrow, stifling ways Which we have known so long, and seek these distant lands. These towering heights and the freedom of this sea That hold for us the promise of our heart's de- sire." Nor can they rest who thus have seen the vision fair Raised by the Poet's art — the great Magi- cian he, By this proclaimed the Master and the Lord of all. That he can take reality, though cast aside, And out of it create a shining dream. Which seeing, men in ecstasy do strive From day to day to make reality again. 25 SONG OF THE SINGING LEAVES This is the song of the singing leaves As they swayed in the summer sun. This is the song that was heard by one, who, Wandering alone under drooping boughs, Grieved for the voice known of old. " Didst thou think to elude me, My dearest ! O Joy of my Heart ! I who am ever nigh unto thee ! The breath of the sighing wind I am to thee. The soft breath of summer That holds thee. Dost thou not feel How^ its sweet-scented kisses Tell of my love unto thee.? Didst think to elude me? The rays of the morning that greet thee. Are they not born of my soul? Whose is their message but mine ! The joy, the rapture of meeting. Softly they make known unto thee, O Dearer than Life ! Ah, wilt thou elude me then ! The rustling of leaves on their branches S6 But whisper my love for thee. The joy of my soul they sing unto thee. Thy lover's care for thee Seest thou not in their shade? Wild flowers spring into being Beside thee, bird-songs Beguile thee. It is I ! It is I ! Hearest thou not Me, my Beloved? / am the voice of the wildwood, The singing leaves and the birds. / am the breath Of the summer's soft sighing. I love thee ! I love thee ! Dost hear me, Beloved ? Joy of my Heart ! Nevermore dying The voice of my soul With messages tender Will hold thee. Dost hear me? Thou art mine ! Now ! Now ! And through all eternity ! " This the song of the singing leaves To the ears of one, who. Wandering alone under drooping boughs. Grieved for the voice known of old. S7 NIGHTFALL I HEAR thee, Love, All through the winding forest ways. Calling to me, And on through the gathering gloom I'll follow thee. Though rough the path And strange it be. The hour grows late. No more I'll roam. I hear thy voice, dear Love, And oh, I'm coming home ! I'm coming home ! 28 WIND OF THE HILLS Wind of the hills, I greet you with ecstasy, Rushing impetuously, flying along. Free life is yours, so, wandering carelessly. Nature's own vagabond, gay is your song. When, with a shout, you storm through the dark green wood. Deep are the harmonies wrung from the trees. While with a charm that cannot be long with- stood, High overhead sound your wild melodies. Over the hills in silence cloud shadows fly, Their haste is yours though unseen and afar ; You drive the clouds that cast, as they hurry by, Shadows as fleeting as we mortals are. Music and motion ever accomp'ny you. Gone is the life of the hills when you sleep. Beauty have they and strength, but theirs no claim to Song or wild freedom that makes the heart leap. WINDS OF MARCH Wild winds of March, In all your stormy rollicking What meet you on the open road One half as bold and free? Child of the earth and sky, Though I my wildest rave and sing The soul of man with tongue of flame Keeps company with me. Wild winds of March, In all your farthest wandering Find you there's aught more venturesome Beyond the ice-locked sea? Child of the earth and sky. Though I to utmost bounds took wing The soul of man would still lead on — It seeks Infinity. 30 JUNE There is a Singer whose words Are full of tears : Him would I take into the woodland Up among the hills of June. There would liis soul be filled With all the joy of the free skies And the green earth, Drenched with morning dew, Or lying in the noontime sun asleep. Or kissed by the slanting shadows Of the dying day. There would he breathe The healing fragrance of the pines, Warm in the summer sun, Their tufted needles A delicate fringe Against the cloudless sky. There would the laurel unburden All its loveliness To his enchanted eyes. Terracing the country roads With overflowing beauty. And hark ! from the willows 31 By the winding brook The yellowthroat's roundelay, And from the swaying tip Of some young birch The song sparrow flings His gay, untroubled notes : " Come ! Come ! Come with me, Over the hills and away ! " In the silent woods The wild, shy things That peer and scurry At a stranger's step. Grow bold and unafraid Of the still, unheeding form. Motionless against the trunk Of some great tree Through whose widespread foliage The flickering sunbeams dance With the shadows on the ground. Lo ! Here is the peace That speaks of life, The deep, still life Of Nature's silent things That wells up in its fullness To bless and satisfy. So still the woods are now The hemlock's tiny spears Fall with a tinkling sound Upon the dry, brown leaves 32 of last year's scattered growth. The cool, green shade Yields up a spicy fragrance Of fern and sassafras ; Mosses and lichens In the damp betray Their presence with a breath. From distant sunny fields Come faint sounds Of the mower's whetted scythe, The barking of the farmhouse dog, The cowbell's fitful clank, All blended into one Deep sense of peace Under the magic spell Of the summer woods. Then up, up and away Over the hills, to where Daisies and buttercups Nod and beckon. Flaunting their gold Over the red of the strawberries Hid in the grass. Wild is the riot Of blossoming hedges, Gay are the flowering Roadsides and byways Where the birds sing in June To their mates on the nest. 33 Free is the life of the woodland then, And there, O Singer whose words Are saddened with tears, There in the hills Will you find all the joy, All the peace and joy Of the world. AUTUMN Now sleeps the great Mother Under gray November skies. Ragged and colorless Her proud dress of summer lies. Gone are the life and joy That with the effulgent sun Filled the radiant days Full to the brim. One by one They passed with pageantry Fairer far than pomp of kings. Faded their glory now. Rough and wild the wind that sings About the cold gray walls Where, leafless, the ivy makes A netted veil ; bleak and Desolate the hill where breaks The entangled, fretted Lacing of the naked trees Against the gloomy cloud. That, slow brooding, grows and frees At length, with sullen will. Full the bitter, driving storm On the unconscious one. But close in her arms and warm Holding dear dreams of spring — Joy-born of the summer's breath — So sleeping with a smile. She conquereth thee, O Death ! 35 GRAY SKIES Shock of the stubble and cold of gray skies ! O glamour of days that have no returning The beauty of summer fast fading now lies And smiles not again for all the heart's yearning. Garnered the fruit of the sun and the dew, The stubble is left for the ploughshare's rude spurning. O passionate heart, alas ! that for you Comes the ploughshare of time but no fruit of your burning. THE DRIVEN Whirling the dead leaves fly Onward! onward! Cold the. wind they're driven by, Harsh as is the destiny That follows, ever follows me. But at last they are at rest, Folded close to Earth's bare breast. Comforted, oh, comforted. So at length content will I In the Earth's embrace, too, lie. 37 WINTER Cold! Still, cold and white She lies, shrouded in the mystic And heart-breaking beauty Of the winter snow ! The great one ! The strange Incomprehensible companion Of our dreamlike days ! Heavy on the branches Of her entranced trees. Drooping in weird festoons On wall and roof. Deep, deep on her Unresisting breast, rests now The miraculous burden Of the glistening snow. Caught in midair, Touched by the magic Of an unseen power, The tiny stars took shape, Broke like a flame Into forms of delicate And exquisite conceit And fell in untold myriads To make a wonder Of the sleeping world. Thus broke blade and blossom In the radiant summertime, But not more fair. What though the woods were vocal With the singing thrush And all the rainbow tints Bestrewed the fields, This cold white purity Austere can lift the soul To heights unknown till now, Can lift and hold the soul Until it breathes another, Finer air, is lost to life And self and longs to sink Dreamless, touched by A nameless cold. And pass, imperishable and free. Into the tragic beauty Of this white, still, deep repose. 39 TWILIGHT What seekest thou then, restless wraith Of the dream-haunted past That leadest my footsteps Through the wan light of evenhig? As death is thy hand With its chill, clinging dews And fitfully gleam Thy ghastly, fixed eyes. Why beckonest thou me Down the dim, winding path By the ghostly, stark fields And the dumb, haggard wood? What seekest thou there For thy love and thy madness? " The black pool in the hollow ! The still depths of its gloom." 40 KISS ME, O DEATH Kiss me, O Death, upon the lips ! Taste of the joy that has been mine ! Golden the light thou dost eclipse, Fiery-sweet the half-spilled wine. Now while no cloud is in the sky. While still I drink nor touch the lees. Kiss me, O Death, nor let one sigh Escape the lips so dear to these. 41 HAIL ! Hail! Godhood, hail! Thou tortured one in some bare room Alone, denied, betrayed. Though full the measure of thy doom, Erect and unafraid. Hail ! Godhood, hail ! Hail! Godhood, hail! Thou hounded slave in mill or mine. Though chained to labor's hell. Aroused and claiming all that's thine, Whose deeds the stars shall tell. Hail! Godhood, hail! Hail ! Godhood, hail ! Thou mocked and wrung by sickening pain, Half spent and nigh to death. Who still with courage once again Dost draw thy quivering breath. Hail ! Godhood, hail ! Hail ! Godhood, hail ! To all who walk in suffering's way. Yet by a hard-won grace Look up to meet the light of day With firm, unflinching face. Hail! Godhood, hail! 42 TO NEW YORK CITY I HAVE built you And I can raze you And build again, O towering cliffs Of a thousand eyes Looking down On pitiful tenements ! Unceasingly swing your Iron cages twixt Heaven and Earth, Bearing the slaves Of the pointed stick And the blue-lined page To their task. While crawls and spins The cabined life Of the streets Driven by greed A prey to the whirling wheel. I have built you And I can raze you And build again. 43 Slowly the smoke rises From the fire Of a million hearts. Up from the hideous streets It ascends, the smoke Of that hidden fire, Up past the cliffs Of a thousand eyes. I have built you And I can raze you And build again. Beware that fire, O towering cliffs Of a thousand eyes Looking down On pitiful tenements' 4i% WHITED SEPULCHERS See now, here be whited sepulchers Raised to the living God. These very shrines of Death ! Dead faith, dead Formulas, dead hearts Are here. Here do they Make a mock of Thee, O gentle One of Nazareth ! Calling on Thee, aye. Singing and praising Thee The while they leave Thy work Undone. Here do they put Sweet-smelling flowers To praise themselves and Thee, While in the city slums The little children lie In filth and wretchedness. Behold their great devotion, Lord, How they do bow themselves And swell the anthems loud To drown the sound Of sorrow's wail and drive The thought of sin away. To think of sin! Ah! that Were vile enough. Go ! 45 Let it fester where it will So it be out of sight And hid. We do our Gothic arches build Far from such scenes as these, On broad highways, With light and room For pious meditation free. From sin thy blood will Wash us clean. A simple way. We come at intervals To cleanse ourselves and take New hold on life, Delighted with the thought Of sanctity so easily Achieved. As for those others There, the stricken ones, Whom once 'twas thought that Thou didst come to save, Why, they may go elsewhere, The world is wide And Thou art all around. We leave them to Thy Tender mercy. Lord, For Thou art very kind. Dost thou not smile on us And all our pleasant ways Within these shrines of Death, These monstrous whited sepulchers Which we have raised to Thee? 46 A.D. 1913 " We work so long ! We work so long ! " Down through the years The children cry. Theirs is no song. A bitter cry, A weary sigh. " We work so long ! " Theirs is no song. The night is dark! The night is dark! Along the streets Lean misery Now skulks and creeps. And soon, O hark! A shuddering moan, A stifled shriek, Ohear! Ohark! One goes alone Into the dark. 47 O hearts that break ! O hearts that break ! 'Tis death in Hfe That you forsake. A bitter cry, A weary sigh. Theirs is no song. The children cry : " We work so long ! " And the years go by. 4S SPRINGTIME Hark to the joyous flood of song, O children of the poor ! By winged choirs borne along, O children of the poor ! Far-flung o'er hills and valleys wide O children of the poor ! In greeting to the Eastertide. O children of the poor ! Now dance the rills and rivers free, O children of the poor ! From mountain tops unto the sea, O children of the poor ! While earth in glorious raiment clad O children of the poor ! Casts off the winter's vesture sad. O children of the poor ! A million flowers scent the air, O children of the poor ! And joy aboundeth everywhere, O children of the poor ! But ye are held within the dark, O children of the poor ! Where quenched is the heavenly spark, O children of the poor ! 49 THE WARNING Over the wine and feasting And the waste of revelry, Up from the depths of Hell, Where the wolves of hunger be, Sinister voices mutter, Bitter and grim and dread : " Beware, beware, O Masters ! The children cry for bread." Over the pomp and riches And the luxury flaunting by. Up from the bloody shambles Where the victims of Mammon lie. Sinister voices mutter. Bitter and grim and dread: " Beware, beware, O Masters, The avenging of the dead ! " Over the song and laughter. And the reckless joy of life. Up from the haunts of pain, Of poverty, shame and strife. Sinister voices mutter. Bitter and grim and dread : " Beware, beware, O Masters, The slaves by Misery led ! " 50 I CANNOT REST BY NIGHT OR DAY I CANNOT rest by night or day, There haunt me so the weary cries Of those who faint upon the way That up the Mount of Sorrow lies. The wailing cry of those who see With dull young eyes the setting sun Look down upon their slavery — The toiling children — many a one. The mournful cry of those who bring Sad children to this weary earth, Or sell themselves — oh, piteous thing ! To keep a life that's doomed at birth. The bitter cry of men who fight A losing fight for those they love; Who cannot reach the gleaming height That towers their flaming hells above. The haunting cry throughout the world From iron bands and prison bars — Where souls unto the depths are hurled — That rises to the sun and stars. Oh! Can you rest by night or day? Have you not heard the weary cries Of those who faint upon the way That up the Mount of Sorrow lies? 51 THE SOUL'S REVEILLE Would you sit in the gutter and look at the stars? Arouse ! Arouse ! The cause that knoweth nor failure nor bars Espouse ! Espouse ! We're here but a day Then hasten away: O leave as your mark A touch of the spark God-given, Earth-shriven, To lead others to heaven O'er a road that is dark ! 62 RESUNG THROUGH AGES Not in the joy of May-day revelry Do we gain power, But in the struggle for supremacy When dark clouds lower. Not in a round of careless days and years Is life well spent, But in wise striving to assuage man's tears We find content. These things. Brother, if thou heed. Love and honor be thy meed : These things if thou heed not well, Swift the path that leads to hell. 53 THE OATH Hear us, ye Damned! By the starved child's Pitiful cry, the sunken Eyes, the pale and hollow Cheeks, robbed of The glowing rose; By the short and labored Breath, the racking pain. The body's slow decay ; By all the agony Brooding in the mother's Heart, the muttered Curses on the lips of men Tortured by their helplessness, Hear us, ye Damned ! By these, by these We swear, that we. Who have the power. Will USE it To bring about The REVOLUTION ! 54 Hear us, ye Damned ! By the strain of man's Upward striving, the sweat, The long nights and days Of his unfulfilled desire ; By the sword that slays. The fagot's burning breath. The dungeon's bitter walls Of loneliness, the frenzied Shriek, mocked even as it Rises in the shuddering air ; By the weary sighs of men Spent in the fight For Freedom's crown ; By the lost hopes, yea. By all the patient efforts That have failed. By the tears, the sorrow Hidden in the night. Hear us, ye Damned ! By these, by these We swear That we. Who have the power. Will use it To bring about The REVOLUTION ! Hear us, ye Damned! 55 THE RED DAWN Give me to drink of thy lips, Beloved, For lo ! I am going to war ! The strength of thy soul in my arms, Beloved, As I greet the battle afar. Give me the touch of thy hand. Beloved, That mine may be swift and sure To strike in the midst of the fray. Beloved, A blow that for aye will endure. Give me the sound of thy voice, Beloved, That mine may be free and clear To answer the taunts of them. Beloved, Who have left us nor mercy nor fear. Give, oh, give me thyself. Beloved, That so, at the end of the fight We two may take together, Beloved, The road of our hearts' delight. 56 DAYBREAK Morning laughs from the skies, And the earth, hke a child Just waked, in glad surprise Is from its sleep beguiled. Fresh-bathed, the cooling dew In myriad drops espied. It greets the day anew And lays night's robe aside. 67 SONG Sing! little heart, sing! Behold! the coming of the mom! Dread winter yields at last to spring And day usui*ps the hours of night forlorn. Sing ! little heart, sing ! The sun of love is in the sky. All nature now is pleasuring, For life's deep joy exchange your sigh. 58 STARLIGHT The stars like sparks from, some great anvil bum, Strewn far and wide with force of mighty blows. Who is the Forger, and what fash'neth He? The gates of some celestial city's ways To man unknown? Oh, when through those vast gates We do but catch one glimpse of that fair land In what deep wonder all our senses sleep, And then what rapture thrills th' awak'ning soul. 59 A SUMMER SONG O Nature ! Mother Nature ! I come, I come to thee ! The magic of thy beauty, It softly draweth me. The splendor of thy sunsets. The depths of starry skies, The fragrance of thy woodlands Where happy songs arise. The flowing of the river Along its banks of green, The broad and gracious meadows And stately hills between, — The hills themselves, O Mother! The lonely, mighty hills That feel the touch of morning Before a birdling trills, — The whispering winds of evening. The moonlight's silv'ry dye, They call to me and woo me Till at thy feet am I. O Nature ! Mother Nature ! I come, I come to thee ! The magic of thy beauty It softly draweth me. 60 I KNOW A RIPPLING BROOK I KNOW a rippling brook with music sweet as that of any singing bird. Brown is the pathway that it loves, And fair the woods and fields through which it roves. All through the wondrous glory of the summer days its silv'ry voice is heard, Full of the joyousness of life. With not one note of sorrow or of strife. When to the rushing coolness of its water's flow the barefoot children come, Rapturous greetings, clear and loud, Assure a welcome to the merry crowd. Around the honied flowers that feel its fresh- 'ning touch the busy insects hum. While to the sloping shallows fly The birds, and near the placid cattle lie. 61 Oh, to the saddened soul who turns, with weary sigh, on Nature's breast to lean, Sweet is the message that it brings. For aye of joy and hope it cheerily sings. And though I wander far from hill and vale, with all their haunts of fragrant green, I hear its whispered notes so low. Still follow, ever follow where I go. 62 THE HOME CALL " Come to us ! Come to us ! " Cry the hills and the sky Radiant with beauty. " We are your friends. Hark to us ! Hark to us ! Live as the birds do, Care free And air free, Singing their songs. Why do you tarry When we do the calling? See how the time flies ! Ah, why wait till day dies ! Come home to the hills Ere black night is falling. Come home to the hills And free life of the sky." 63 AD ASTRA Beloved, see! In my veins Is a flame Of fire Which, at thy name, Burns with desire Ever higher, Higher, Higher. O Beloved, In that flame Is consumed All the past. Naught can last In that fire Burning ever higher With desire At thy name. Naught can last But our love. Rising ever higher, Higher, Higher, With desire. With desire. 64 THE CONQUEROR In those dread hours When Pain assails the soul With gibes and taunts In bitter mockery Of life, saying : " Thy bones shall be full of aching And I will fill thy heart with tears. Thy flesh shall be the seat Of impotent desires, And thou shalt cry in agony On the rack of my making. I will tear thy soul asunder And thou shalt descend with me To the very depths of hell." Then, then do I think of thee And from my heart there leaps The exultant cry : " All this, and more, is in thy power, O Pain ! thou terrible and mighty ! But yet thou canst not quite undo me, For, oh ! for, oh ! I have looked Into the face of Love ! " 65 In that drear time When Death steals through the dark With whisperings hideous, Saying: " I breathe on the cities of men And they vanish. The flowers of the field bloom But to bow to me. Thou shalt take Life into thine arms And taste of the lips of Death. I will make of thy desire a dream And of hope a memory. Thou shalt eat of the fruit And thy mouth shall be filled with ashes." Then, then do I think of thee, And from my heart there leaps The exultant cry: " All this, and more, is in thy power, O Death ! thou terrible and mighty ! But yet thou canst not quite undo me. For, oh ! for, oh ! I have looked Into the face of Love ! " 66 AS CLOUDS ARE TO THE SUN There is one to whom my soul is as the clouds are to the sun: Bright in love's noontime gleaming, Oh, fiercely bright! Or with the dawn's first, tender touch, softly ar- rayed. Red, red at even ! Passionately red with love's dear, fullest flowering — the feast of joy. Then black, oh, desolate and black, when love is gone and night comes on. 67 LOVE'S INVITATION There's a hidden happy spot Where the slanting shadows lie On the soft and fragrant grass Of the dearest little hill, When the summer sun is low And the day begins to go It's then that I am calling you, To say : O Love, stay with me ! O Love, play with me ! In that hidden happy spot, By the world and time forgot ! There's a hidden happy spot Where the sweetest flowers are And the singing of the birds Rises softly to the sky, When the summer sun is low And the day begins to go It's then that I am calling you. To say: O Love, stay with me ! O Love, play with me ! In that hidden happy spot. By the world and time forgot ! 68 THE OLD SONG O Love, I hear you in the evening come whis- tling down the lane, And ah, my longing heart beats fast to hear that tune again, 'Tis one we knew long years ago when we were blithe and young, And quick the fond and tender words come crowding to my tongue : O Love, Dear Love, Take a walk with me. The blackbird's in the hazelbush, A sail is on the sea; My love's , True love And thus 'twill ever be. So come away At close of day And wander. Sweet, with me. The fragrance of the blushing rose, the light of summer skies. The balmy breeze that softly stirs and then as softly dies, 69 They come to me the while I sit beside an open door And dream I hear that whistled tune and hum these words once more : O Love, Dear Love, Take a walk with me. The blackbird's in the hazelbush, A sail is on the sea; My love's True love And thus 'twill ever be, So come away At close of day And wander, Sweet, with me. 70 THE DESIRED O LET me make a happy little place Where I can drink the comfort of your smile, Where I can see the radiance of your face And know that heaven has come to stay awliile. O let us make a garden hid away, With pansies set, and pinks, and gillyflowers, Where birds will sing the livelong sunmier day And shady walks allure the golden hours. And we will have a room where firelight falls At dusk — when crickets chirp and winds do moan — In flickering lights and shadows on the walls, While we do sit and rest, we two alone. Ah, let me make a happy little place For just us two, where you will softly smile And I can see the radiance of your face And know that heaven has come to stay awhile. 71 COMPANIONSHIP I CALLED to thee, Beloved; Then didst thou hear And send to me the message, Borne on the wandering summer wind That over dewy grasses sighed And brought the tender words Filled with the scent Of clover blooms, and set to music With the humming Of the bees, a balm To my hurt soul. I called to thee Straightway the hills became Pregnant with meaning. Their peace and strength Were thine and made A sheltering against life's stress For the so weary heart of me. Again I called — High in the blue The white clouds sailed serene. Lifting my sad thoughts 72 Above this world to thee, For so thou lookest down On earthly things from The freedom of thy skies. Day by day my spirit Calls, and ever does Thy message come anew. Now in some flower's fragile cup With delicate grace revealed, Now in the sparkling waters Murmured song that holds me In such endearment close I do forget there is aught else In all the world But just thy soul and mine. And ever in the swaying Branches of the friendly trees There breathes a secret sympathy That is of thee. Oh, through all nature's Myriad forms there speaks Thy soul ! I am not left alone. For when I call, thou hearest. And thus thou answerest me. 73 WHY GRIEVEST THOU? Why grievest thou? / grieve not, Though stripped of the summertide's glory And empty of all its delight. Why grievest thou? / grieve not, Yet naked my trees to the breath of the North And defenceless they stand in the grip of the cold. Why grievest thou? / grieve not, Though descends on my fields from pitiless skies the hoar frost, Though white are the ridges and crackles the ice in the hollows. Why grievest thou? / grieve not. Yet enters my soul the iron of winter And congealed is life's impulse within me. Why grievest thou ? / grieve not ! Endurance is master of fate And patience will tire the strongest. / grieve not ! Why grievest thou ? •3f4 THE LOST PARADISE Love, dear Love, come back to me, The days go by so wearily, The hours are long without thy smile. Come back, come back to me a while ! Through lonely nights I think of thee. Thy thoughts, afar, are they of me? 1 miss so much thy tender smile, Come back, dear Love, a little while ! 75 LEAVES Sunlight and shadow, Sunlight and shadow On leaves, Quivering — tremulous ; So the experiences of life fall On me, Vibrating — sensitive. When summer is over, Wooed by the North Wind, Seek they their resting place In the Earth-mother ; Even so I, Wooed by the Death-cold, Slip to my bourne of rest In the Supernal. 76 THE LONELY ONE Sometimes when I sit alone And the hours are long A little pleading cry Breaks from my heart And calls to you. I hold it close, and then — And then I set it free And say : " Go ! find Your way into his heart And tell him — tell him You have come from me And that I think of him ! " 77 THE NET Dost thou hear? Drip ! Drip ! Drip ! Red drops of my heart. See how it bleeds ! Pain of thy going is there, Pain of thy coming. Oh, despair Of the tangled skeins That enmesh us — The snare. Drip ! Drip ! Drip ! Red drops of my heart. Dost thou hear? O see how it bleeds ! 78 THE SMILE I SAW one, who did not think I saw, Smile an evil smile, Crafty and sly, A sneer subtly blended With the lust of cruelty And tinctured with deceit. Thereupon welled to mine eyes The tears of pity. Which seeing, thus answered me That evil-smiling one: *' Thine own soul I cannot touch, For thou hast reached, By ways unknown to me, Heights invincible and free. But I will take of those Dear to thine heart And torture them before thine eyes, Helpless and dismayed. So shalt thou learn to hate. And hating fall, and falling Bruise them the more." Then to the tears of pity in mine eyes Was added wonder, and I cried : " Hard and stem the way By which I gained the heights. But, oh, my Brother, By what more terrible path Didst thou descend to Hell ! " 79 BESIDE THE SEA There is a hollow where my dead hopes He, And there sometimes I sit with idly folded hands And watch the shadows, gliding gently by Over long dead passions and gray and barren sands. The slow tears gather, falling one by one — The wells are deep that keep the unforgotten past. The dead are calling. Time and I are done. The ever-seeking waves will hold me close and fast. SO FINIS O BLUE of the summer's arching sky And woodland shades that softly lie Where murmuring brooks go wandering by, The days are long ! are long ! And wails a voice the reeds among: " Fled are the beauty and the song ! " My eyes with weary tears are wet. Let me forget! O white winged passion of the cold, Thou fierce wild lover of the mold Whom not e'en death itself can hold. The days are long ! are long ! There wails a voice bare reeds among: " Fled are the beauty and the song ! " My eyes with weary tears are wet. Let me forget! 81 DREAMS I HEARD a voice a-mocking say : " These be but idle dreams. Dost follow airy phantasy, an errant fool, me- seems." And then afar a voice that cried : " Do we but dreams pursue, This still is left for comfort. Dear, we to our dreams are true." 8^ LOVERS' VOWS O SAY not love with lovers' vows is bound ! Dear love is free, from sea to sea ; Unfettered will true love be found Eternally — for thee, and me. The vows that bind, are of the earth alone, Love shuns the snare, is free as air. The body's held, the soul of love is flown. When lovers swear, love is not there. A ROSE BLOOM As Beauty walked the golden steps of Day She glanced at Cupid's glowing face and smiled. At that, from out old Chaos' mighty sway, Through sheer delight, there was this rose beguiled. 8# MORTALITY Great Love, see how these puny human things Defame thy holy name! They harbor lust, And say they shelter thee. Though only wings May reach thy dwelling-place, they cleave to dust. 85 BROTHERS Should you think that in some there's no vir- tue, And your feeling of comradeship halts, Believe me, the reflection won't hurt you That at least we're made one by our faults. m ON FRIENDSHIP " My friend has failed me ! " (Hear the cry !) " Of friendship here's an end." And thou, fool — Now make reply — Wilt thou too fail thy friend? 87 SLAYER AND SLAIN He whom I trusted stabbed me. Stabbed to the heart. Whereat in quick revenge I sought again to slay. But one who knew, withheld me, Saying : " See ! 'Tis his old wounds that bleed. Slayer and slain is he ! " 88 THE SINGER Tell me, Singer, to whom then Dost thou sing? " The Singer smiled And, with a moment's pause, " It is myself," he said, " I see in every living thing." 89 THE TEST He knows indeed of love, who from a blossom- ing hedge Bestows a flower: fiut he who for love's sake applies the knife's keen edge Fathoms its power. 90 THE SECRET " A pearl! a pearl! " the critics cry, As close they gather round it. " A bit of truth, for which we sigh — Wherever has he found it ! " They look in Nature, look in Art, But no whit wiser growing. At last they look into his heart — What starts their tears to flowing? 91 THE DIFFERENCE Hast thou seen what the weak in their weakness do worship? It is power. But the strong — give their hearts for a star. Or a flower. 92 THE SPIRAL Out of the deed the word That molds again the deed, Circle of the infinite, O soul of man, take heed ! LlbRARY OF CONGRESS 015 940 350 6 # X