Class ESajLUl. fajyiighfU ilo<] COPYRIGHT DEPOSE A WHISPER OF DESTINY A WHISPER OF DESTINY AND OTHER POEMS BY VIRGINIA BIOREN HARRISON NEW YORK E, P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 81 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET Copyright, 1909 By Virginia Bioren Harrison THIS LITTLE BOOK OF VERSE IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO MY BROTHER J. S. B For the permission to reprint many of these verses, acknowledgment is gratefully made to The Century Magazine, The Independent, Everybody's Magazine, Messrs. Harper and Bros., Munsey's Magazine, The Sunday School Times, Good Housekeeping, The American Magazine and The New Age. CONTENTS PAGE A WHISPER OF DESTINY 3 THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS UPON THE HILL 6 THE SINGERS* FLOWERS 9 THE DYING YEAR 11 HEIMWEH 14) THE COUNTRY OF THE FEW STARS . . .16 OFF SWAMPSCOTT 18 O WIND FROM THE GOLDEN GATE . . .21 MUSIC OF THE DAWN 23 NIGHT IN THE HILLS 25 THE GRAY NUN 26 MY CLOUD REALM 28 THE CORONATION OF QUEEN INEZ . . .31 AN AUTUMN THOUGHT 35 THE SUMMER NIGHT ORCHESTRA ... 36 BEATITUDES OF EARTH AND SEA AND SKY . 39 HOLLYHOCKS 41 CUM PRIMA LUCE 43 SOLACE OF REMEMBRANCE 48 FAITH 49 A CHILD MARRIAGE IN THE 1 7TH CENTURY . 50 THAT JUNE MAY BIDE 55 CONTENTS PAGE BENEATH MY ROOFTREE 56 A SILENT SONG 59 THE BALLAD OF FRA PAOLO 60 BANISHED LOVE 64 THE FOREST IN WINTER 66 WANDERLUST 69 A JEST OF FATE 71 A SKATING RONDEAU 73 LIKE A PRESSED FLOWER 75 THE SILENT MAN 76 A LOW MOUND IN THE WILDERNESS ... 78 TO MARCH 82 A BLESSED SPOT 83 LULLABY 85 A VAIN WISH 86 POT-POURRI 87 GOLDEN SILENCE 88 MAY 89 AFTERWARD 91 ROSEMARY 92 IMPROVEMENTS ON THE HOMESTEAD . . 93 AMBITION 06 A CHARM 97 TWIN GUESTS 99 AN UNWRITTEN BOOK 101 IN THE FAR COUNTRY 102 THE LAND OF THE AFTERNOON . . . .103 CONTENTS II PAGE THE MOTHER-HEART 107 THE LILY OF ISRAEL 110 BLOWN BY THE BREATH OF GOD . . . .111 WITHIN THE STONE 113 UNANSWERED PRAYER 115 THE FLOWER OF DUTY . . . . . .118 ONLY BELIEVE 119 A BLOSSOM FOR GOOD FRIDAY 121 A TWILIGHT VISION 122 TWO CALLS 125 WHEN DAYLIGHT DAWNS 127 HE CARETH FOR ALL 129 HANS AND THE GOLDEN APPLE . . . .131 ONE GIFT I ASK 135 PRISONERS OF HOPE 137 BISHOP FENELON'S PRAYER 139 THE FLOWER OF THE RESURRECTION . . 141 UNTIL EVENING 143 A WHISPER OF DESTINY A WHISPER OF DESTINY Heaven's dome was filled with silvery song, That night long centuries ago, When Eastern Kings, who had journeyed long, Were bending low — ■ Were bending low. (By the Lake of Gennesaret far away A slender sapling swayed in play.) Not theirs alone the homage paid By Kings that night of Jesus' birth — Their worship but foreshadowed that Of all the earth — Of all the earth. (But never a nest nor song of bird In the sapling's boughs was built or heard.) 3 A WHISPER OF DESTINY None but the dark-eyed mother saw The thorn crown round her baby's head, And the mystic light, that glorified The lowly shed — The lowly shed. (Soon mist spread o'er the wavering sea And tremors stirred the cypress tree.) None saw but she the phantom sword That should her own soul pierce. — And far She heard the name of " Mary " float To outmost star — To outmost star. (Was a whisper of destiny thither blown, Or 'mid the leaves did the wind make moan?) A WHISPER OF DESTINY Ah! strange misgivings mingled with Wild joy within the Virgin's breast, While angel's softest voices lulled The Babe to rest — The Babe to rest. (And the shuddering tree to heaven made call For the lightning's withering stroke to fall.) But one prophetic seraph veiled His face, while hymns triumphant rang And in a sobbing minor strain Of Calvary sang — Of Calvary sang. (Then cursing fate, in black despair The cypress beat on the breezeless air — The cypress that Christ's cross should be — And silence lay on Gennesaret's sea.) 5 THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS UPON THE HILL O, a new star, a new star Blazed like a lamp of gold. For closely pressed to Mary's breast The Savior Jesus lay at rest, As prophets had foretold. (But little Judas, as he slept, Stirred in his mother's arms and wept.) THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS O, the night wind, the night wind A new song found to sing, Caught from the gleaming angel choir, With harps of light and tongues of fire, To praise the new-born King. (But little Judas, as he slept, Stirred in his mother's arms and wept.) O, the worship, the worship And myrrh and incense sweet, Which shepherd kings from far away- Had brought with golden gifts to lay At the Savior Jesus' feet. (But little Judas, as he slept, Stirred in his mother's arms and wept.) THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS O, the shadow, the shadow Of the cross upon the hill. But yet the babe, who was to bear The whole world's weight of sin and care, On Mary's heart lay still. (But Judas' mother with a cry, Kissed him and wept, she knew not why.) 8 THE SINGERS' FLOWERS " Write ! write ! " said he who bears aloft the flaming pen. And one in glowing words depicted earth and sky And sea, and sang so wildly sweet a tale of love, That men's hearts thrilled and beat in unison with the song. Then round the singer bloomed a wealth of pas- sion flowers, And many a red, red rose. But God looked on these flowers, And lo! like Dead Sea fruit, they naught but ashes were 9 THE SINGERS' FLOWERS Again the word went forth. Another singer seized The inspired pen, and wrote a single verse, — the prayer We children said each by his mother's knee, at night Before we laid us down to sleep, and still is said By countless baby lips. And at God's feet, be- fore The great white throne, he laid his little song. Then soft, Like fluttering snowflakes, round him fell the children's prayers; And straightway bloomed a mass of blue forget- me-nots, That, blown by heaven's winds, breathe forth the singer's name Before God's face forever and forevermore. 10 THE DYING YEAR Take off this crimson robe, With yellow broidery and brown; Unclasp the jeweled belt; And from my head remove the crown Of gold. Think you they grace The closing eye, the pale, still face ? Yet I would fain be fair When they who knew me in the pride Of loving beauty, come A silent throng and stand beside My couch, with bated breath, To see the face kissed white by Death. II THE DYING YEAR So bring some snowy robe, With border of soft down, to fold About my fluttering heart And limbs that seem so strangely cold. And on my quiet breast The white chrysanthemum shall rest. For rose and passion-flower Are mine no more. Think you they still Would glow and perfume yield If laid upon a heart grown chill? Ah ! no ; from this sad hour I wear no rose, no passion-flower. 12 THE DYING YEAR And let the winter bring His wealth of crystal gems, and now With glittering coronet Of icy diamonds deck my brow. And men shall gaze and say: How sweet a year to pass away I 13 HEIMWEH When o'er the sunset's crimson bar The golden day has sailed away, My homesick fancies wander far From hot roadway and pavement gray, Where only weary creatures are. I seem to walk the road once more Among the hills, by fields and rills; And, from the millpond's lonely shore, The whip-poor-will's sad calling thrills As in the twilight days of yore. 14 HEIMWEH The old elm guards the fallen gate. And though I know no flowers now grow Within the garden desolate, Yet, in the glow of Dreamland, Lo ! — It blooms in beauty's lost estate. The silent house is Memory's home. And O, some way, some happier day, May I to that dear hillside come, From hot roadway and pavement gray To sleep — nor wake again to roam. 15 THE COUNTRY OF THE FEW STARS The path that leads to Twilight Land Is through an opal sky all rose and gold, Where trailing banners of the vanquished day From crimson change — and fade to gray away. When stir the pines by night winds fanned, When little birds their weary pinions fold, And drowsy twitterings rise from many a nest, The last red rays, far down the purpling West, Illume the gate of Twilight Land. 16 THE FEW STARS The voice of Silence fills that land; The mystic hour brings loved and lost ones home; Long silent lips breathe tender words once more And vanished joys possess us as of yore. The silver crescent in eve's hand, The few stars low in heaven's dusky dome Shine softly on this hour of Memory's dreams, Till, like some dim mirage, which fading seems Most lovely - • lost is Twilight Land. 17 OFF SWAMPSCOTT The ocean's varying blue and green Have changed to gray with night; And from the western sky has paled The saffron-colored light. There lingers in the darkening east A flush, — so faint it seems As if the sun-forsaken sky Were blushing in her dreams. And now across the plain of heaven The moon and slow stars creep, As o'er the darkening fields at eve Some shepherd leads his sheep. 18 OFF SWAMPSCOTT And out upon the trembling depths Lies wavering to and fro The moonlight path, where sailors say Strange phantoms come and go. A company unseen, unheard, A weird and shadowy throng, Who rise with the rising moon to walk This pathway all night long. The semblances of swarthy men; Pale shades of vikings fair; And women with the seaweed dank Entangled in their hair. 19 OFF SWAMPSCOTT O summer moon, hide, hide thy face! O bright path on the deep In darkness fade away, and let The shipwrecked sailors sleep! 20 O WIND FROM THE GOLDEN GATE! Now dies the salt wind — breath of Eastward seas — And in the quivering leaves of whispering trees Soft stirs the evening breeze. From charmed lands, O wind from out the West ! From slumbrous isles by sleeping waves caressed, Thou bearest on thy breast The languorous perfume of a thousand flowers, The garnered sunshine of unnumbered hours, The spice of Orient bowers. 21 O WIND Thy pinions touch peaks ermined by the snow And search deep canons where wild waters flow, And mighty cedars grow. Thou art the voice of silent places lone, That call me day and night — pools shadow strown, And forest haunts unknown. Now on thy wide-spread wings bring tranquil rest And sway the jeweled fringe of dreams, O blest Sweet wind from out the West! 22 MUSIC OF THE DAWN (At sea — Oct. 23rd, 1907) In far forests' leafy twilight, now is stealing gray dawn's shy light, And the misty air is tremulous with songs of many a bird; While from mountain steeps descending, every streamlet's voice is blending With the anthems of great pine trees, by the breath of daylight stirred. 23 MUSIC OF THE DAWN But I turn from Fancy's dreaming of the green earth, to the gleaming Of the fluttering wings of morning rushing o'er the jewelled deep. And the ocean's rhythmic pounding, with each lucent wave resounding, Seems the music made when God's own hands, His mighty harp strings sweep. 24 NIGHT IN THE HILLS Like sentinels upon the hillsides seem The pines, through which the wandering west wind sighs; Above its trembling image in each stream The slow moon moves across the star-flecked skies — And spellbound by the eyes of Night I dream, For in their depths the charm of silence lies. 25 THE GRAY NUN There comes, each dying day, to bless, A little while before the night, A gentle nun in convent dress Of clinging robes, all gray and white. She lays her cool hand on my face And smoothes the lines of care away — Her tender touch, with magic grace, Dispels the worries of the day. She folds the mystic curtain by, Which hides from view the shadowy throng, And gives me those for whom I sigh, The vanished friends for whom I long. 26 THE GRAY NUN Sometimes she brings a perfumed spray Of flowers that bloomed long years ago, The breath of Summers laid away 'Neath many a Winter's drifted snow. No other guest gives such delight, Nor can of peace bestow the same, As she, who comes 'twixt day and night, And Twilight is the gray nun's name. 27 MY CLOUD REALM The Summer night winds stir the vine About my window frame, Where many a scarlet trumpet flower Gleams like a tongue of flame; The scent of mignonette floats from The garden at my feet, Like thoughts of love, long dead and yet In memory faintly sweet. O'er head I see a mystic world, Which seems just mine alone, Upon its purple seas there sail No dreamships but my own — 28 MY CLOUD REALM And drifting like the floating reefs On far away lagoons, The lazy clouds are islands fair, Where shine no blazing noons. One dark and gloomy cloudlet is The Isle of Grief, and waves That moan o'er shipwrecked happiness Break on its shore of graves. But when I sail the moonlight Bay Of Hope, 'mid stars, then stilled Is every thought that springs from out Life's promise unfulfilled. And on a lotus leaf I drift, By drowsy winds caressed, Till, toil forgot, in languor steeped, I reach my Isle of Rest. 29 MY CLOUD REALM Then when the rosy barge of dawn Invades my sapphire sea, 'Tis mine no more till night restores My Realm of Clouds to me. 30 THE CORONATION OF QUEEN INEZ The spirit of Inez de Castro gazed From heaven's jewelled gate of gold and saw, Far down in Portugal's great palace — that Which once was she, but now a shell, exhumed. Upon a throne beside the King's, it sat Attired in robes of silver flecked with pearls. The hands that Pedro (ere he yet was King) Had found so soft, but now were shrivelled skin O'er bones, a sceptre held in lifeless grasp. Upon the coils and braids of blue black hair About the shrunken face, a crown of gold And gems — a royal diadem — was set. And all the proudest nobles of the realm 31 CORONATION OF QUEEN INEZ Before this bent the knee and kissed the hem Upon the coronation robe of poor Dead Inez, now crowned Queen of Portugal. Then through the jewelled gate of heaven the soul Of Inez flashed. Down — down, through seas of light It sped and hovered near the royal throne. She kissed King Pedro's brow — and, Ah ! he dreamed Of her dear kisses in those four bright years, When he and she in secret marriage dwelt. She sighed — and he in pity wept for her Who murdered was, by his own sire's command. 32 CORONATION OF QUEEN INEZ She put her arms about his neck and laid Her face against his cheek — and Pedro thought Some cloud of incense touched him — but his heart Beat faster and with mighty yearning longed For those few vanished years, and in his arms To hold his lost love to his breast once more. Then from the throne, the dead queen's form was raised And to a splendid tomb was borne, while close Beside King Pedro, floating moved the soul Of her he loved beyond the Gates of Death. And to his heart there crept a wondrous peace, As once again her lips touched light his own. 33 CORONATION OF QUEEN INEZ Then on slow wings she sought the jewelled gate? Of Paradise for all Eternity. 34 AN AUTUMN THOUGHT When through the leafless trees the cold wind sighs And garnered is the wealth of golden grain, On shivering wings the famished song bird flies Some summer land to gain. And so, on wings of faith, the soul shall rise Beyond the chilling world, its grief and pain, And 'neath the glory of celestial skies Its summer land attain. 35 THE SUMMER NIGHT ORCHESTRA When fades the gold from sunset sky, When twilight's silvery sheen grows dim, And twinkling lights gleam, one by one, In marvelous order ranged in heaven, There mingles with the mystery Of night, a wondrous harmony. Musicians, an unnumbered band, Fill earth and air with ceaseless hum Of strings and horns impalpable. Against the dark sky, darker woods Hold in their depths of oak and fir The tree toad with bass viol strong — 36 SUMMER NIGHT ORCHESTRA And meadows shelter myriads Of katy-dids, whose notes ring forth With crickets' song antiphonal. A blur of insect music fills The orchestra's interstices And mingles with the dewy scents, That make the soft, damp air so sweet. Far off upon the distant hills A tiny huntsman's horn is wound And from the young moon's crescent ship We seem to hear clear elfin flutes. 37 SUMMER NIGHT ORCHESTRA For one with ear attuned, the low Sweet music of the winds amid The pines, commingling with the dim Night's voices multitudinous, Is Nature singing us to sleep, As mothers coo soft lullabies To drowsy babes, who sink to rest. 38 BEATITUDES OF SEA AND EARTH AND SKY Blessed is the sound when storms thro* lofty- pine trees roar; Blessed is the boom of waves upon some lone seashore ; Blessed in the woods, the gay duet of brook and leaves ; Blessed is the harvest moon on rows of tentlike sheaves ; Blessed is the sun by day, by night each God- set star; Blessed are the silent haunts where shaded waters are; 39 BEATITUDES Blessed is the dank earth-smell in forests' dusky glades ; Blessed is the crimson sky that slow to purple fades ; Blessed is the happiness, that Nature's hand- touch brings, And eye and ear and heart that see and hear and love these things. 40 HOLLYHOCKS The charm of bygone times and things, To hollyhocks old-fashioned, clings. On stately stalks their bells unfold In many a garden quaint and old, Round which are low stone walls, where twines A verdant mass of wandering vines. There dials mark the sunny hours, Mid beds of sweet familiar flowers And boxedged paths, long since first trod By feet that rest now 'neath the sod. But still the hollyhocks grow high, With bells aflaunt as winds blow by — And still at dark, those stately men And dames of old walk there again — 41 HOLLYHOCKS And as the boxedged paths once more They tread, 'mid flowers they loved of yore, Their misty draperies in the breeze Seem only cobwebs 'twixt the trees — And their silken garments' soft frou-frou, Like wind, that sighs the pine trees thro'. But shadowy lips kiss shadowy hands, Where the gray sun dial silent stands — And lovers, who long since felt love's thrill, In the garden old are lovers still. 42 CUM PRIMA LUCE Chill winds that beat on the ivied wall Sweep through the castle's lofty hall — And far beneath, in dark abyss, The gale tossed seawaves roar and hiss. Tall, flickering candJes scarce illume The confines of a turret room, Where, through the casement from afar There shines no glint of moon nor star Upon a mother, who half wild With grief, kneels by her dying child. Upon the other side, there stands A radiant one, with outstretched hands, Whose aureoled wealth of golden hair Shines o'er a face divinely fair. 43 CUM PRIMA LUCE The mother pleads: " Forsake us not My little maid! Hast thou forgot The happy hours, when 'neath the shade Of yonder greenwood trees we played; Or how, when held in thy sire's arms, The knights acclaimed thy childish charms And swore on many a tourney's ground To see thee Queen of Beauty crowned ? " Now speaks the angel low and sweet: " In yonder greenwood, at thy feet A serpent trailed across the grass, Affrighting thee and then, Alas ! Thou didst fall down — and filled with fears, Thy mother sought in pain and tears. 44 CUM PRIMA LUCE And so, in time to come, no joy Would e'er be thine without alloy. With jealousy and aching heart Th 'U wouldst in feast and joust take part, For knights, who crowned thee Queen one day^ The next would laugh and ride away. Come thou with me, where streams and trees And birds sing lovely symphonies And many a little angel waits To play with thee at heaven's gates." The mother clasps the hand so small And murmurs : " Do not heed the call — The night outside is dark and cold; No mother there thy hand to hold; Against the crags the wild waves foam — My little maid bide in thy home." 45 CUM PRIMA LUCE The face upon the cot grows gray; The pale lips sigh: " 'Tis break of day. The casement open wide, that so My soul with the angel forth may go. " I love thee so, I'd spare thee pain, But go I must — to plead is vain, So sweet is she who calls me. Oh ! I pray thee Mother, let me go." The spirit stoops and to her breast Enfolds the child in dreamless rest. And to the mother says : " Trust me ! Though dark the night and wild the sea, Safe in my arms, nor storm nor pain Shall touch thy little maid again — Think not of me with bated breath, God calls me Life whom men call Death. 4 6 CUM PRIMA LUCE Now to the mother's anguished heart The angel's words great peace impart — She opes the casement toward the sun And weeps: " Farewell my little one! " The storm is spent. The waves no more Beat 'gainst the tower with hiss and roar. With morning's opal tints the world Of land and sea spreads forth impearled., While softly on the castle wall The ivy branches rise and fall And in the sky, past heaven's bar, One silvery cloudlet flies afar. 47 THE SOLACE OF REMEMBRANCE Think not the brown leaves, whirled by breath of fall, Are but evangels of the Winter drear: 'Mid Autumn's minor music they recall, In happier strains, that Summer has been here. And so, when Memory's drifting leaves of thought Float 'round the darkening portals of the heart, Gray skies with gold and crimson shall be fraught In dreams of joys that came but to depart. 4 8 FAITH Faith is the keynote of life's battle hymn; The noon's straight sunbeam, lighting chasms dim; The sinking in a father's arms to sleep Assured that he the long night watch will keep. 49 A CHILD MARRIAGE OF THE SEVEN- TEENTH CENTURY Lines in commemoration of the wedding of the grandson, namesake and heir of Sir George Carteret to the daughter of the Earl of Bath — read before the New Jersey Society of Col- onial Dames at its second commemorative meet- ing at Trenton. Across the broad Atlantic's breast And broader sea of Time, There gleams a tiny wedding ring, And joybells faintly chime. We lift the veil of vanished years, And lo! before us stand A boy of eight and maid of six, With hand close clasped in hand. 50 A CHILD MARRIAGE His snow white velvet suit is slashed With pale pink here and there, While from the cap to match, a plume Droops on his flaxen hair. White silken hose, a jeweled sword, With knot of rosy hue; And on each knee a huge rosette, Which is of pale pink, too. Which is it, think you, fills to-day His boyish heart with pride, And bids him toss his gallant head — The swordlet or the bride? 51 A CHILD MARRIAGE O'er English fields with wild flowers flecked, The wind blows soft and sweet, To lay its gift of perfume at The little maiden's feet. It stirs the locks, that tendril like Wave round her bonny face, And flutters 'mid the chestnut curls Beneath her veil of lace. Upon the ivory satin gown Forget-me-nots are sewn, Of turquoise made, like blossoms blue Upon a snow bank strewn. 52 A CHILD MARRIAGE She carries high her dainty head, This daughter of an Earl, Tiaraed with forget-me-nots Encircling one great pearl. The organ peals, the bridegroom doffs His cap, then hand in hand They tread the aisle with stately mien, And at the altar stand. On noiseless wings the crowding years Once more press in between This present place, this present time And that strange wedding scene. 53 A CHILD MARRIAGE The church grows dim. The wavering forms 'Mid shadows seem to sway. No faintest sound of music comes, The vision fades away. Farewell, Sir George! Farewell, wee bride! We know naught of thy lot. But through the years thy turquoise flow Bid us forget thee not. 54 THAT JUNE MAY BIDE No matter though December skies Hang low o'erhead; No matter though the red rose dies And birds have fled; If thou to Hope wilt open wide Thy bosom door Then June will come to thee and bide Forevermore. 55 BENEATH MY ROOF-TREE One dewy morn, when waking birds Their first low notes were trilling, And perfume from each hawthorn hedge The wandering wind was filling, I saw serene Contentment pass, With step that scarcely swayed the grass. So wondrous sweet and fair beyond All other friends I thought her, That every day through woodland way And flowery field I sought her, And called and called again her name, — But never answering whisper came. 56 BENEATH MY ROOF-TREE Then, vexed that she would not reply, I cried in accents fretful: " Contentment, where thou listest, go ; Nor will I be regretful. I fain would have thee with me dwell; But, since thou wilt not, fare thee well." I sought my cot, where needlecraft, The spinning wheels' swift whirring, And housewife cares, gave wings to time, And kept the life-tide stirring; Forgot were wimpling burn and fell, The sunlit mead and dusky dell. 57 BENEATH MY ROOF-TREE A light footfall; a gentle knock; A snowy kirtle fluttering Within my door; a longed-for voice My name in soft tones uttering; And lo ! beneath my own roof-tree The long-sought one stood seeking me." 58 A SILENT SONG God gave unto a chosen one The gift of poesy and song, But ah ! he sang of vanished hope, Life's bitterness, its pain and wrong, Till hearts lost courage, eyes with tears Grew dim, and souls were bowed with fears. Another, poor and well acquaint With grief, yet met men with a smile Which said, " How good God is, how sweet His gift of life ! " and all the while A new j oy touched the passing throng — An echo from a silent song. 59 THE BALLAD OF FRA PAOLO Day after day, within the church at Ascoli, a young monk paints With master hand on dome and walls, bright seraphim and blessed saints. (But bach on the hills, a garden lies — A garden sweet as Paradise.) The angels Fra Paolo paints, at Ascoli Piceno, bear The face of one with glorious eyes and waving lengths of red bronze hair. (And o'er a marble bench there grows In that garden cool a crimson rose.) 60 BALLAD OF FRA PAOLO There were in days not long gone by, twin brothers, Esperi by name, Who, one by sculpture, one with brush had gained both fortune great and fame. (There haunted paths, mosaic laid, Lead 'round a vase crowned balustrade.) Betrothed unto the painter was a girl of Rome, bronzetressed and tall — But women's hearts are fickle oft — and men's hearts stray beyond recall. (While passion flowers srvay in the breeze, That stirs the sombre ilex trees.) 6l BALLAD OF FRA PAOLO The sculptor won the woman's heart, but, with remorse filled, to atone He threw away God's gift of life — as 'twere but thistledown, windblown. (And the cypress, blackest shadows throws O'er haunted path and crimson rose.) "So soon are we forgot when we are gone ! " The heart that lightly turned From her betrothed, turned back again to where Love's altar fires still burned. ('Neath the orange trees the blossoms lie, By sobbing winds blown far and nigh.) 62 BALLAD OF FRA PAOLO But happiness could not be grasped across the low and verdant mound, By him, whose loved twin brother lay there in unconsecrated ground. (Ah! where the fountains overflow, Forget-me-nots are whispering low.) So, in the church at Ascoli, a young monk paints day after day — But Memory, vows forgetting, strays from prayer and cloister far away. (And blown this way, then that, there grows O'er the marble bench a drooping rose.) 63 BANISHED LOVE shepherds ! have ye wandering seen A winged boy with blinded eyes? 1 drove him from me yestere'en Despite his tears and pleading sighs. He bears a pretty bow and keen Tipped arrows in his quiver lie. O shepherds! tell me, have ye seen This banished Love come wandering by? Why shines the sun, regret to mock; Why flaunt the flowers in hues so gay; Why skip with joy the snowy flock When poor lost Love is far away? 6 4 BANISHED LOVE Unfeeling shepherds, wherefor smile And point toward my breaking heart? What, close behind me all this while! — O, sweet! we two no more shall part. 6S THE FOREST IN WINTER Who haunts the Wintry forest hears The heart of Nature beat beneath Her robe of snow and icy gems. Think you the woods are but for days When perfumed winds stir countless leaves Whose low, sweet harmonies enthrall The listening ear; when murmuring brooks Hold converse with forget-me-nots That deck the mossy banks ; when on The path are checkered sun and shade Like little rippling waves of light? 66 THE FOREST IN WINTER Ah, no! There is no Summer sky So blue as that, against which stand The bare, brown trees with twigs enlaced, Where chirp and twitter Winter birds. On every side, from out the snow, Sway ghosts of golden rod and stalks With downy pods of milkweed capped. 67 THE FOREST IN WINTER The Erl King's tiny spears of frost But make the bracing air more rare, And on the ear attuned, there falls From Nature's workshop, faint far sounds, As nearer come the chariot wheels Of Spring, toward the Winter woods. 68 WANDERLUST A wind-swept cloud from the restless sea — A drifting cloud on the mountainside — Sang : " Why so tamely cling, ye trees, To these silent heights? On the ocean's tide Are life and paths to the ports afar O'er the jeweled deep, 'neath the outmost star." Then cursing its chains, an oak-tree grand With longing prayed for that restless sea, Till ax and stream and the builder's hand The oak, a white-winged ship, set free, In ecstasy, dreamlike, forth to fare O'er lucent depths to the Everywhere. 69 WANDERLUST Ah, the drifting cloud on the mountainside Had whispered naught of storm and wreck; But the oaken ship lies fathoms deep, With the seaweed green on her lonely deck ; And oh, for the leaves and the birds' sweet song And the voice of the forest the whole night long! 70 A JEST OF FATE (Ten days after the earthquake, flowers were still blooming in a window-box high on a ruined palace wall.) Like a flaming flow'r dropped on Messina's dark pall A geranium hangs in its deep crimson bloom On a casement's broad ledge in the wavering wall Of what once was a palace — but now is a tomb. 71 A JEST OF FATE Is it only a jest of mad Fate 'mid the gloom, Or a note of life's battle song, meant to recall Hope and courage once more to the City of Doom — That scarlet flow'r high on the tottering wall ? 72 A SKATING RONDEAU Two lovers they, on steel winged feet. O'erhead the stars, a glittering fleet, Through purple seas, untossed by gale Toward that silvery harbor sail Where fading eve and moonrise meet. The world seems theirs alone — So sweet That all life's vexing cares retreat As speed they through the frozen vale. Two lovers they. 73 A SKATING RONDEAU They long not for the Summer's heat, While Winter reigns with j oys replete — Nor Autumn's vanished hues bewail When ice and snow the earth enveil, And stars and skates in tune repeat: Two lovers, theyi 74 LIKE A PRESSED FLOWER How soon, within the Book of Time, Life's latest hour Will lay my memory — as we press Some curious flower. Then, on th* enfolding page, I would God's hand divine Might note: Though erring oft, this still Was child of mine. 75 THE SILENT MAN When the battleships saluted General Grant's tomb on their return from the Spanish war. The war-scarred battleships in garb of gray Steam swiftly up the stream in proud array, 'Mid din of acclamation from the shore And cannons' roar. Abreast the lofty tomb on Claremont's height, These latest heroes, fresh from glorious fight, With thundering guns salute the warrior who Rests there time through. 76 THE SILENT MAN O, does the sword upon his breast stir not? Think you the sounds of war are all forgot? Leaps not his pulse with pride that he, too, won As these have done? Who knows ? " The Silent Man pi gives neither sign Nor word. The ships sail back in stately line; The low wind sweeps o'er Claremont's tomb- crowned hill, And all is still. 77 A LOW MOUND IN THE WILDERNESS I know a grave on Southern soil, A lonely little mound, Where three tall pines their sentry keep, And scarce a sound The silence breaks. Naught but the rush Of storms, the carolling bird, And soughing wind among the trees Is ever heard. No human hand has touched that " low Green tent " through fifty years Anear. The falling rain and dew The only tears 78 A LOW MOUND Have been that moistened it. But far North, where the cold waves foam, A mother mourns her drummer boy Who ne'er came home. His comrades laid him here — the flag Across his boyish breast, And " for his mother " on his brow A last kiss pressed. But think not while a nation decks The graves of hero dead, That where this brave boy sleeps, no flower Rests o'er his head; 79 A LOW MO U N D For sown by wandering winds, kept by God's hand, a poppy seed Took root and grew a thousand fold, Its every need By Him supplied. And when each year Flowers deck the patriot's tomb, That low mound in the wilderness Is all abloom. And ever o'er the drummer boy The tall pines sentry keep, And that day blooms a crimson pall The " flower of sleep." 80 A LOW MOUND And when at eve through bluest skies, White cloud ships seem to sail From star to star, and low the flowers Bend in the gale, The blood-red poppies, snowy clouds ; And sky of azure hue Spread o'er the drummer boy God's own Red, white and blue. 81 TO MARCH Dash on, Oh wild young charioteer! The rushing winds, thy fiery steeds, Wait but a call from thee to hear Ere each from heaven's far boundary speeds, With ice-shod hoof and streaming mane, Thy shout his lash, thy voice his rein. Dash on, mad youth from frozen lands That ne'er by summer are caressed! The leaping waves stretch high their hands, In vain endeavor to arrest Thy flight, to where, 'neath budding tree, Thy sweetheart April waits for thee. 82 A BLESSED SPOT In mother's room, O blessed spot! Where childhood's griefs were soon forgot. For dreariest hour of wintriest day- Held still some lingering light of May In mother's room. In mother's room! When hope betrayed, Or Fortune's smile shone undismayed, Less bitter seemed to grow the ill, And happiness glowed brighter still, In mother's room. 83 A BLESSED SPOT In mother's room! 'Tis holy ground, The threshold of a low, green mound; For with crossed hands on faithful breast, Life's first, best friend lay there at rest In mother's room. 84 LULLABY Sleep, baby, sleep ! Waiting near, with outstretched hands, See the slumber Angel stands. Every bird has sought its nest; Lambs are in the fold at rest. Sleep, baby, sleep ! God and Mother vigil keep. Sleep, baby, sleep! Through the trees the night-winds wail; Past the stars the dream-ships sail, Clouds for canvas, dreams for freight. Hush, my sweet, the hour grows late. Sleep, baby, sleep! God and Mother vigil keep. 85 A VAIN WISH I know a lake, which nestles where Tall mountains rise nearby; And on its quiet bosom floats A pictured sky. At night, the shepherd moon leads forth On high his starry flock; And on the wavering water's depths Pale planets rock. I'd ask no other Paradise For heaven I'd never sigh, If in this peaceful vale, my home Might be for aye. 86 POT-POURRI Time steals my sweetness all away Cries fleeting youth in sad dismay, Regretful. Forgetful That charm fades not though beauty may And the rose of to-day still sweet shall be When Summer goes, as pot-pourri. 87 GOLDEN SILENCE As blooms an ivory lily on some turbid pool, Its perfumed heart by noisome ripples flut- tered, So o'er the soul depths where dark passions rule Blooms that restraint, which holds harsh words unuttered. 88 MAY Along the fields and waysides A dainty maiden trips; The grass springs green behind her And from her finger tips She scatters many a wild flower And many a tulip fine, And gilds the humble meadows Where dandelions shine. See! on the silent forest She doth a light kiss press — And slumbering forces waken Beneath that soft caress. 89 MAY She stoops to call the violets But near and far away A myriad cry: We're waiting To welcome you, sweet May ! 90 AFTERWARD I heedlessly opened the cage And suffered my bird to go free ; And, though I besought it with tears to re- turn, It nevermore came back to me. It nests in the wildwood, and heeds not my call, the bird once at liberty, who can enthrall? 1 hastily opened my lips, And uttered a word of disdain That wounded a friend, and forever estranged A heart I would die to regain. But the bird once at liberty, who can enthrall? And the word that's once spoken, O who can recall ? 91 ROSEMARY One lonely twilight hour, when gray- Had grown the sky and sea, Along the sands a slender form Drew near and paused by me. Starlike above a violet robe Shone out her sweet, sad face, And soft she crooned to soothe the babe That lay in her embrace. I asked her name, and grieved because With tears her eyes were wet. " Men call me Memory," she sighed, " And this, my child, Regret." 92 IMPROVEMENTS ON THE HOME- STEAD In the busy, dusty city I dreamed of boyhood's days, And the old stone homestead far away Mid quiet country ways. Its shingled roof all moss-grown, Its walls so cool and gray, And the vine-clad stoop where the old folks sat To rest at close of day. 93 IMPROVEMENTS Then the dream became a longing, And, traveling far and fast, I came to the little village where My childhood's years were passed, And sought the quaint stone mansion, But O, what change was there! Bay-windows, balconies, and, at One end, a porte cochere. The walls were pumpkin yellow, The shingled roof bright red, And, at the side, a rounded tower Reared high its upstart head. No trace of home beloved! No signs of days gone by! Not e'en the long well-sweep that used To point toward the sky. 94 IMPROVEMENTS I felt as one who, bending To look in some old face He fondly loves, beholds it rouged — Bereft of each dear grace. So now, when of improvements Men talk, my heart is sore, And longs for the stoop where the old folks sat To rest when day was o'er. 95 AMBITION The hilltop be thy goal ! 'Tis not O'er steeples that we stumble — 'Tis over loose stones in the path That plodding pilgrims tumble. Though by ambition angels fell, Without it, mortals ne'er excel. 96 A CHARM Every gentle deed you do One bright spirit brings to you — One more angel, watch to keep By your pillow while you sleep; Softer makes the wind's weird song Through the pine-trees all night long; Clearer makes the white stars gleam While you dream, While you dream. Every gentle word you say One dark spirit drives away; Makes the clover in the grass Whisper greeting as you pass; 97 A CHARM Swifter makes the cloud-ships fly Through the ocean of the sky; Daintier makes each frosty flake When you wake, When you wake. 98 TWIN GUESTS One Summer day a chubby boy With wings and blinded eyes, Came clamoring at my door — and I, To rid me of his cries, At last said: "Love you may come in/ When, with dismay at heart, I saw the rascal enter with Almost his counterpart, Except that while Love smiled, this one Did mournfully complain. " Where'er I go," the blind boy said, " Goes my twin brother, Pain." 99 TWIN GUESTS They quickly drove calm Friendship out And what with tears and smiles, I could do naught but comfort Pain And watch Love's pretty wiles. And though sometimes in weariness I wished them far away, Again so sweet the torments were, I plead with them to stay. IOO AN UNWRITTEN BOOK Each new day is a golden book, pearl wrought, Its hours are silvery pages pure as snow, Where will be writ each word and deed and thought That fill the flying moments as they go. So mayst thou live that that bright one, who, with His flaming pen records each action past, God's pitying Angel, need not weep for thee When " Finis " marks the fluttering page turned last. IOI IN THE FAR COUNTRY In that far country o'er Death's sea, I know that my heart often, For those I've left, will homesick be. Nor will heaven's raptures soften The longing for my life lived here: The morning's task — the evening cheer. Shall I not miss the dusky night, The wistful twilight hour, The clocktower's chimes, the sweet delight In each long tended flower? Oh! in all Paradise there's not A joy could make these be forgot. 1 02 THE LAND OF THE AFTERNOON I know a wondrous land of pearl And pink and golden gleam, Above whose battlements of cloud Broad crimson banners stream. Beyond the azure depths of noon, Far down the west it lies. Its gate, the setting sun, is cleft Through saffron-colored skies. Its seas are floods of amber light, Where fleecy shallops sail, And violet mists, its silvery domes, And palace walls enveil. 103 LAND OF THE AFTERNOON Athwart the dewy shadows, that Forever Eastward creep, The long-winged swallows, silently In mazy circles sweep. It is the realm of finished toil — To weary hands a boon — And twixt the day and twilight lies This Land of the Afternoon. 104 II THE MOTHER-HEART Hushed were the songs of the angels and pale On the dawn's field of gold was the guiding star's ray — Wearied, the shepherd Kings slept — and the Babe On the breast of the Virgin in soft slumber lay — And she whispered: Forget Sweet, thy heav- enly throne And O, for a little while, be just mine own. 107 THE MOTHER-HEART Cherubs thy playmates will be, but to me Thou wilt run for thy hurts to be kissed and made well; Legions of ministering angels shall be By thy side, but no care shall thy mother's excel. Then remember not now, Sweet, thy heavenly throne, But O, for a little while, be just mine own. 108 THE MOTHER-HEART These hands like pink rose leaves that press on my heart, Heavy burdens must carry ere victory be won. Though dear to the Lord of the whole world thou art — Ah ! there's no love like my love for thee. Little Son. Then forget Sweet, thy mission and heavenly throne, And O, for a little while, be just mine own. 109 THE LILY OF ISRAEL Effulgence, never seen before, Fills sky and sea and slumbering earth And to the farthest angel tells The message of the Saviour's birth. The dazzling worlds in heaven's dome Grow pale before that wondrous light, For planet never shone as shines The Star of Bethlehem to-night. And 'neath that star a slender girl With soft brown eyes, hears angels sing And whispers to her new-born son: "Light of the World! My babe, my King!" no BLOWN BY THE BREATH OF GOG Call you this chance? A tiny seed Is blown by wandering winds that speed O'er land and sea. On ocean's breast 'Tis swept and whirled; then flung to rest Upon a lonely isle, 'mid reed And sedge, and many a straggling weed. Lo! soon the isle a flowery mead Becomes, with brilliant blossoms drest. Call you this chance? Ill THE BREATH OF GOD Oft-times a word or kindly deed Bestowed upon some soul in need — Some soul where Love is never guest — Transforms the heart by hate opprest, 'Till flowers the noisome weeds succeed. Call you this chance? 112 WITHIN THE STONE A marble fragment lay for years By roadside ^ust defiled; The low clouds dropped on it their tears, The sunshine on it smiled; And but a worthless stone it seemed, Wherein no trace of beauty gleamed. But one who wrought with wondrous art - And not with art alone, For love divine dwelt in his heart — Took home the piece of stone, And broke the rough, stained part away, And lo ! a face within it lay. 113 WITHIN THE STONE A thorn-crowned face, so sad that, when One looked on it, he wept; So loving that through hearts of men A new devotion crept; And many a wandering soul, that sweet Face guided to the Master's feet. 114 UNANSWERED PRAYER Against the frozen face Of earth, I lay my own And softly pleading, make My longing known. Sweet Mother Earth give me, I beg, one little spray Of perfumed flower to cheer This wintry day. She answers not, nor opes Her eyes. But well I know That Nature's heart still beats Beneath the snow. 115 UNANSWERED PRAYER Then, of the stream I ask, One water-lily bud, To deck the dreary hour. The ice-bound flood Makes no reply, nor stirs His crystal sheet, but know I well, that still, deep down, His life-tides flow. My spirit oft, on wings Of some impatient prayer, Soars up to Heaven's gate And clamors there. 116 UNANSWERED PRAYER And though no opening door Lets me his countenance see, I know my Father's love Yet burns for me. 117 THE FLOWER OF DUTY In silence, and with progress all unseen, Throughout the cycle of a hundred years, The century plant attains its daily growth, Until at last the gorgeous bloom appears. So, when some glorious deed for duty done, The world with admiration stirs, we know That through a life of little tasks fulfilled Was formed the bud whose bursting thrilled us so. 118 ONLY BELIEVE Poor trembling heart, when heaven seems Far off and hopes fade like the gleams That shine from half forgotten dreams, Believe — only believe ! When gathering tempests meet thy sight And not one little ray of light Illumes the dark and dreaded night, Believe — only believe ! When fierce temptations o'er thy soul Like surging, sweeping torrents roll And faith drifts almost past control, Believe — only believe ! 119 ONLY BELIEVE If some great cross before thine eyes Hides from thy sight the glittering prize, The crown that waits beyond the skies, Believe — only believe ! If thou would'st reach those regions blest, Where far beyond the golden west, Earth's weary pilgrims find sweet rest, Believe — only believe ! Poor guilty heart, whate'er thy sin, Christ's blood can make thee pure within, Thou canst his loving pardon win. Believe — only believe ! 120 A BLOSSOM FOR GOOD FRIDAY When on the cross our dear Lord hung, The tears that anguish from him wrung Bedewed the ground. When lo! upsprung From each a little flower, whose hue, Like Syria's sunny skies, was blue. Outspreading from the cross they grew, And whispered to the little knot Of women weeping round the spot; " The Master says, ' Forget me not. ' " 121 A TWILIGHT VISION Gray twilight shadows lay about The cheerless little cell, Where sat an aged monk whose thoughts Held him 'neath gloomy spell. He mused in deep humility Upon a long life's span All spent within the cloister walls, And thus his reverie ran: " My days have passed like counted beads Upon a rosary strung With prayer and fast, with matins, mass, And peaceful vespers sung. And in those hours of work, when some Have painted pictures rare, 122 A TWILIGHT VISION And some wrote books of blessed saints, Who spent their lives in prayer, I have done naught but try each day, 'Mid childish sport and strife, To teach the village boys. Dear Lord, Forgive my useless life ! " Then glorious grew the dusky cell With light, but not of sun, Nor moon, nor stars, but shining from The radiant form of One With tender face and pierced hands, Who softly said: " Not so, My faithful servant, thou hast done As much as they; for, lo! The beauty of their painted work With fleeting time departs, But thou hast pictured lasting scenes 123 A TWILIGHT VISION On little children's hearts. And while the pens of others wrote With ink that fades away, The words thou hast imprinted on My children's minds will stay Till they and thou and I shall meet In Paradise the Fair." Then paled the light, — the vision fled, And on his knees in prayer, Ecstatic from the Saviour's words, The aged brother fell. And, like a soothing mother, Night Came to the little cell. 124 TWO CALLS Saul, journeying to Damascus, heard A voice speak from on high, And saw a blinding cross of flame Gleam in the dazzling sky. But, soul ! wait not for such a call, Nor think thou art forgot Because to thee the Saviour's voice In trumpet tones comes not. While morning mists hung low above The waves of Galilee, And chilly winds swept from the hills Across the white capped sea, Two weary fisher brothers toiled 125 TWO CALLS Their broken nets to mend, When softly spake the Master's voice, As friend speaks unto friend: " Come follow me ! " and Oh ! so sweet The wandering Savior's call, They straightway left their ship and home For Him forsaking all. So now to some Christ gently calls Sometimes through look or word Of those we love, did we but list, His whisper could be heard. His voice is in the slow winged clouds The never silent sea O Soul! the Master even now Is softly calling thee. 126 WHEN DAYLIGHT DAWNS Now daylight dawns, and praises spring From every song bird's throat ! While, veil-like, over mountain tops The mists of morning float. Dear God, all through the night thine eye Hath watched the sick and sad; In pity smile on them, and make Thy suffering children glad. Keep thou the pure still pure; and should Some wayward wanderer stray In dangerous paths, to save him, Lord, Stretch forth thy hand to-day. 127 WHEN DAYLIGHT DAWNS Then, when this now triumphant sun Sinks in the golden west, — When stars shine out, and every bird Flies to its sheltered nest, Draw nearer to us, God of Love, Bend down thy pitying face ; , And in thine everlasting arms Fold us in close embrace. 128 HE CARETH FOR ALL Far out to sea a little bird, In wild confusion, flew. The red sun set, star after star Came into view, And still the fluttering wings in vain Essayed to win the nest again. The distant worlds, through boundless space Unswerving kept their way; The whirling earth sped on without Change or delay; Old spheres burned out; new ones, that night, Flashed into brilliancy of light. 129 HE CARETH FOR ALL One eye supreme the rhythmic march Of planets thus controlled, One hand there was, whose hollow palm Could all enfold, And yet, from where each cry is heard, That eye beheld the fainting bird; And, guided by that mighty hand. Across the billows dark It flew, and sank to rest upon A passing bark. Think'st thou, O, storm-tossed soul! that He Doth not thy weary fluttering see ? 130 HANS AND THE GOLDEN APPLE A LEGEND The priest's own eyes were tearful, The women softly wept, For, just across the mountain An avalanche had swept, And out of all the family Of Gustave, there was left But Lise, the year old baby, Of home and friends bereft. The old priest asked an offering From each, however small, And told them, that the dear Lord, Who saw and loved them all, 131 THE GOLDEN APPLE Well knew they had but little To spare the orphan waif. But what they lent in this way To God, would come back safe. Now Hans, " the ever hungry/' Had set out just at dawn To seek the pastor's heifer, Which far astray had gone. And when back home he brought her, The priest, for well earned treat, Gave him a rosy apple, Too nice to quickly eat. So safe within his pocket The apple went to mass, And, wearied out with walking, Hans fell asleep, Alas ! 132 THE GOLDEN APPLE And now, behold! unto him Appeared the Holy Child, In brightly shining garments, And said in accents mild: " Dear little Hans, for My sake, Give Lise thine apple red." And as Hans, wondering, 'wakened, The lovely vision fled. So when the carved alms basin He passed, the old priest stopped Surprised to see Hans' apple Among the kreutzers dropped. But when upon the altar He placed it, strange to say, Lo! 'Mid the copper kreutzers, A golden apple lay. 133 THE GOLDEN APPLE And in the pastor's garden The tree, which heretofore Had borne the rosy apples, Brought forth that kind no more- But shining yellow pippins (That men might not forget Hans and the golden apple) It bore and bears them yet. 134 ONE GIFT I ASK Through weary days and sleepless nights I fast and pray; And of my listening Lord I ask, The same alway — That He will to His child impart Pureness of heart. The pure in heart God's face shall see. And does not this Include the whole ecstatic scale Of promised bliss? Can souls which His dear presence gain More joy attain? 135 ONE GIFT I ASK I need not plead with Him to give Me every grace That makes the spirit beautiful; For, if God's face I am to see, He will bestow All else, I know. And so, through days of prayer and fast, I only try To win that purity of heart Which, by and by, The wondrous boon will gain for me, God's face to see. 136 PRISONERS OF HOPE Within a narrow cell A captive lies. Beyond his prison bars The summer skies Are smiling in the earth's Uplifted face — And, far away, the hills And clouds embrace. And while of boundless plains, Unfettered streams And shady forest depths He sadly dreams, 137 PRISONERS OF HOPE His listening ear is bent — Some foot may be Approaching, even now To set him free. So in its narrow cell The spirit lies, And dreams of all the joys Of paradise, And listens for the whirr Of rushing wings, As God's swift messenger Deliverance brings. 138 BISHOP FENELON'S PRAYER " O Lord ! take thou my heart, I cannot give it thee; 'Tis bound so fast by earthly ties I cannot wrest it free. So close love's clinging tendrils twine How can it be entirely thine? " And when thou takest it, Keep it O Lord! for I Can never keep it for thee while Earth's tempting voices cry: ' Come back to us, dear heart/ — But Oh ! My Father, do not let it go. 139 BISHOP'S FENELON'S PRAYER " And save me, Lord, in spite Of my own self. For when Sometimes I long for better things, The wish takes flight again. So, pitying Lord, I only pray, Cast not so poor a heart away." 140 THE FLOWER OF THE RESURRECTION There was a Blessed Garden In far off Palestine, Where grew more beauteous blossoms Than e'er were elsewhere seen. About its rock tomb portals, Where Mary went to weep, Swayed many a snowy poppy, The mystic flower of sleep — And blue forget-me-nots for Remembrance seemed to pray In azure clusters, close where The silent Savior lay. Then when that queen of mornings 141 RESURRECTION Her silvery veil unrolled, The first fair Easter lily Burst forth all white and gold To hail the Resurrection, The day of joy profound, Which made that Blessed Garden Earth's holiest spot of ground. 142 UNTIL EVENING What though around me all is dark, And I am blindly treading An unknown path, on which fall tears I cannot keep from shedding? I know 'twill sometime all be right — At eventide there shall be light." I cannot tell why all day long The darkness must enfold me; But well I know who walks beside, With hand outstretched to hold me — And faith must be to me as sight Till evening, when there shall be light. H3 UNTIL EVENING Sometimes I think God does not care — I think he is not heeding Because He sends no flash of joy In answer to my pleading — Then starlike gleams that promise bright: At eventide there shall be light." And so I lay my hand in His^ And ask Him just to guide me. I will not mind aught else if I But hear his voice beside me. And all the shadows shall take flight When evening comes and there is light. 144 OCT 4 1909 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HUWIIIIIL 015 897 610 9