PS 3543 157 W5 1922 Copy 1 IE YALE SERIES € «4i 6 IVhite April Harold Final ■^. fi II %f If II MM WJ^W f r i» jpni fF!* iiin GF YOUlJi^ER POETS PUBLISHER'S NOTE. The Yale Series of Younger Poets is designed to afford a publishing medium for the work of young men and women who have not yet secured a wide public recognition. It will include only such verse as seems to give the fairest promise for the future of American poetry > — to the development of which it is hoped that the Series may prove a stimulus. Communications concerning manuscripts should be addressed to the Editor, Professor Charlton M. Lewis, 425 St. Ronan Street, New Haven, Connecticut. VOLUMES ISSUED, OR PLANNED FOR EARLY PUBLICATION I. The Tempering. By Howard Buck. II. Forgotten Shrines. By John Chipman Farrar. III. Four Gardens. By David Osborne Hamilton. IV. Spires and Poplars. By Alfred Raymond Bellinger. V. The White God and Other Poems. By Thomas Gal- decot Chubb. VI. Where Lilith Dances. By Dart Macleod Boyle. VII. Wild Geese. By Theodore H. Banks, Jr. VIII. Horizons. By Viola C. White. IX. Wampum and Old Gold. By Hervey Allen. X. The Golden Darkness. By Oscar Williams. XI. White April. By Harold Vinal. XII. Dreams and a Sword. By Medora C. Addison. White April HAROLD VINAL P^^^^ NEW HAVEN • YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON • HUMPHREY MILFORD • OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS MDCCCCXXII ^'^'^..o COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS \m 24 1922 ©CIA659332 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. THE Author wishes to thank the editors of Poetry, Con- temporary Verse, The Sonnet, The Atlantic Monthly, The Liberator, The Bookman, The Lyric, The Pagan, Pear- son s. Tempo, The Grinnell Review, Everybody's, New Num- bers, The Springfield Republican, and The Pansienne for the privilege of reprinting many of the following poems. TO MOTHER CONTENTS. Part I. Golden Windows. My Own . Candle 13 14 To Persephone Window . 15 16 Tokens 16 .^'Forgotten . 17 Query Deborah Speaks Lesbia Sewing 17 18 18 Part IL Sonnets for Weeping. Late and Soon . . . . . . .21 Invocation 21 Earth Lover 22 After Dusk 22 Year's Ending . 23 Autumn Afternoon 23 Evanescence 24 Pity Earth Memory . • 24 25 Part IIL Of Mariners. Sea Longing Exiled 29 29 Of Mariners . . 30 Old Ships . Little Song 30 31 The Sea Remembers 31 Rumors 32 Let Me Lie 32 Part IV. White Glamour. You Came to Me ...... 35 The House of Dust 35 y" The Nights Remember 36 Unbound .... 36 Talisman . 37 Little Death 37 Rosemary . 38 Moonlight Magic ^ 38 Vision 39 Song of Young Love ...... 39 \RT V. Overtones. Buried 43 Glimpses . 43 Pastoral 44 Death Comes 44 Old Things 45 Music Tides 45 Surety 46 Miser 46 10 PART I. GOLDEN WINDOWS. MY OWN. OI must answer to a name And live upon a certain street, And stairs within a dingy house Must bear the burden of my feet. Still, when the night is dim and sweet, In dreams I roam the silent hills, Where aisles of shadow, vague with light, Are petalled soft with daffodils. I foot it through the silver dark, I shout aloud to field and tree And all this gipsy heart of me Is, longing, longing to be free. O I must answer to a name And live upon a certain street, But who shall take my dreams from me Or keep my life from being sweet *? 13 CANDLE. I WILL light my candle Before night comes on, A room is a dreary place And forlorn. I will light the tiny flame So it sputter brightly, For ghosts of lonely things Trouble me nightly. I will shut my ears Lest I hear again Wind crying in the hall, Rain on the pane. I will light my candle Before night comes on, A room is a dreary place — Now love has gone. H TO PERSEPHONE. No more you weave, Persephone, Gowns the colors of the sea. Your ivory fingers now are still And your grave a grassy hill. But everywhere songs are sung They sing of you who died so young. And lads and lassies passing by Place bergamot where you lie. No more you weave, Persephone, Gowns the colors of the sea. Emerald, chrysoprase and blue That looked beautiful on you. But everywhere songs are sung They sing of you who died so young. WINDOW. FROM my window I see Tall trees in a row, Rhododendron and phlox, Spicy things that blow. All of beauty there Through four little panes, Clumps of columbine Wet with the rains. Through my window I see Life pass by me — Colin and Christopher, Rose and Charity. TOKENS. IN memory of this and that I'll wear a starry hood And set a bowl upon the stoop . And light the wood. In memory of laughter I'll dance no more But hide my gown and feathers Behind a dark door. In memory of sorrow I'll take them out again And put a ribbon in my hair And dance down a lane. 16 FORGOTTEN. How can I remember Autumn and pain, When trees hold dreams In their arms again*? How can my heart break Till it cries ^ The joy of summer Has made me wise. I can't remember What hurt me so — Autumn and winter Were so long ago. QUERY. I AM bound by twilight, I am chained by snow, I am held a captive To the winds that blow. But the careless people Laugh as they go by Blind to all the wonder Of the earth and sky ; Deaf to all the music Falling over me ; Is it they are captive — And that I am free ^ 17 DEBORAH SPEAKS. THE candles I keep burning Above the door Are in memory of those Who pass no more. Faith and Caroline, Rose and Margaret, I light candles there Lest the heart forget. I keep candles flaming Lest, when Strephon call, I forget that they Ever lived at all. LESBIA SEWING. STITCHES over and over So the heart won't break. Thrust the needle under For sorrow's sake. Stitches over and over Till the pattern's set. Thrust the needle under So the heart forget. Stitches over and over, Needle hurry fast, Till the love of beauty Fall from me at last. 18 PART 11. SONNETS FOR WEEPING. LATE AND SOON. I AM SO near to grief I needs must weep For little places fair as Camelot, For dusty inns and gardens long forgot, They haunt me ever so I cannot sleep. I am the slave of beauty late and soon, Of apricots blown into silver rain. Held close to tears by many a shining lane Where ghostly birds call wildly to the moon. Is there at last an ending to it all. An end of petals blown against my face. Can I not hide myself behind a wall And forget beauty for a little space. Forget all passion that I ever knew — Old beauty gone and you and you and you *? INVOCATION. I THOUGHT that beauty was forever dead, Until I saw a daffodil abloom And two bright tulips in my garden bed And silver spills beyond my little room. I thought that grief would never go from me, Yet now how wonderful are all the days, I am no longer hurt by misery But wild with joy and tremulous with praise. God, let not too many white stars fall. Nor let your bushes bloom in one small hour, 1 could not bear the beauty of it all. For I would pause with awe before each flower And touch each blossom with my finger-tips And feel the wind's first sweetness on my lips. 21 EARTH LOVER. OLD loveliness has such a way with me, That I am close to tears when petals fall And needs must hide my face against a wall, When autumn trees burn red with ecstasy. For I am haunted by a hundred things And more that I have seen in April days ; I have held stars above my head in praise, I have worn beauty as two costly rings. Alas, how short a state does beauty keep. Then let me clasp it wildly to my heart And hurt myself until I am a part Of all its rapture, then turn back to sleep. Remembering through all the dusty years What sudden wonder brought me close to tears. AFTER DUSK. BY day no singing beauty wakes in me ; My soul is silent as a silver dell, Where voiceless winds speak only of farewell And cloistered flowers dwell in secrecy. Shaken with woe I hide against my heart Sweetness and loveliness and meadowed rain And swallow-beauty May has brought again; Dream-still they lie alone, untouched, apart. But when day undesired falls asleep, Dreaming on hills where shaking stars look down, I roam cool-misted vales beyond the town. And cry my love of beauty till I weep. The glowing trees, so faint that no one hears. Drop veils of shadow down to hide my tears. 22 YEAR'S ENDING. OI could weep my heart out, late and soon, For dear and lovely things I would forget : A blur of silver spills that burned at noon, A clump of daffodils and mignonette, Aprils remembered that come back no more To haunt my gardens where the tulips bloom And banished summers flaming at my door, When haunted moonlight streamed into my room. At times the thought of so much loveliness Drops from me strangely, like the end of grief, Then suddenly I feel the wind's caress. Or a wild tree lets fall a lyric leaf. The thought of you drifts from an ancient spring- And I near weep again remembering. AUTUMN AFTERNOON. OLD loveliness returned this afternoon To break my heart and make me weep aloud ; I had forgotten autumn came so soon. With blur of golden leaf and jewelled cloud. Here once wild, scarlet tulips used to blow And daffodils wave lightly in the spring And lovely spicewood bushes burn and glow And April trees spill April blossoming. Now the last birds go winging down the air And children's laughter and a scrap of song Blown from a shivering pipe ; Nothing lasts long. Not even April that was once so fair. O how it hurts to see the wild trees thinned And spring's dear beauty falling in the wind. 23 EVANESCENCE. SLOWLY I pass among the blowing flowers Catching my breath at their beauty as I go ; Familiar sweetness drifts across the hours, Keen, lovely sweetness, intimate as woe. Yet by to-morrow all the roses blown Will be a sea of crimson on the grass. And the naked trees will shudder at the moan Of glowing winds that wake them as they pass. In such wise, love will vanish as the night, Each word of joy that you have sung to me The years will silence with their dark delight. And the wild soaring after ecstasy Will be a lyric bird that dares the sky — Only to fall to earth when storms beat by. PITY. ODO not pity me because I gave My heart when lovely April with a gust Swept down the singing lanes like a cool wave, And do not pity me because I thrust Aside your love that once burned as a flame ; I was as thirsty as a windy flower That bares its bosom to the summer shower And to the unremembered winds that came. Pity me most for moments yet to be In the far years, when some day I shall turn Toward this strong path up to our little door And find it barred to all my ecstasy. No sound of your warm voice the winds have borne- Only the crying sea upon the shore. H EARTH MEMORY. THE earth remembers many an April blown To lyric beauty on a lovely hill, And many a golden hour she has known Comes back to haunt her with old wonder still. The earth remembers things she knew of yore, Summers that olden lovers have forgot, The way of silver rain upon a shore And little towns as fair as Camelot. The earth has moon-kissed beauty and to spare, While I weep long for love, a thing as frail As blue spills blown high in a sudden gale. The space of weeping is too great to bear ; Blow by a whirl of petalled blossoming — So I forget to weep with wondering. 25 PART III. OF MARINERS. SEA LONGING. You who are inland born know not the pain Of one who longs for grey dunes and the seas And sound of ebbing tide and windy rain And sea-mews crying down immensities. You who are inland born know not the urge Of rapt tides beating passionate and wild, Nor have you thrilled with wonder at the surge Of drifting water, wayward as a child. Impetuous I seek the eager sea. Imperious for joy and wind-blown spray; You, who are city beaten every day. What do you know of mirth and ecstasy ^ No thirsty wind has journeyed from the South — And laid a cool, wet finger on your mouth ! EXILED. I WILL remember to the very last The look of ships upon a quiet sea. Each windy sail, each spar and slender mast Must linger ever in my memory. I will remember hills and harbor ways And bright lagoons, though I long to forget ; Enchanted islands green as chrysoprase And lonely nights of rose and violet. Men who have known such splendid things as these Can never quite forget what they have learned ; Their thoughts must always be of secret seas Or of dim places where the moonlight burned. Always the sound of wind moans in their ears Or rush of waters under ghostly piers. 29 OF MARINERS. You who have known the changes of the sea And marked the tides and watched each wistful star; You who have known old ships, each mast and spar, Can only know what such things mean to me. You who have known the quiet mystery Of lovely islands in a glowing bay, Know what it is that haunts me night and day — A ghost of things that will not let me be. For they who know such things must always dream Of wind and tide and barques that they have known, Old schooners lying where the town lights gleam, A tall ship sailing by at dawn alone. They who have felt the wind upon their lips. Their speech must always be of sea or ships. OLD SHIPS. WHAT memories hang round about the spars Of splendid ships that come to port no more. What dreams of moonlit seas and lovely stars. What sound of waters on a wooden floor. Something remembered from an ancient day Comes back to haunt them when the evening falls, The cry of gleaming birds from far away, The moan of winds around their whitened walls. Something survives to make them wistful still Of silver harbors that they knew of yore. Of midnight quiet by a secret hill, Of shining lights upon a singing shore. Perchance, a ghostly gull against the sky Or a white sail at twilight flashing by. 30 LITTLE SONG. PUT a fence about my house It matters not to me, If from the highest window I cannot watch the sea. Scent the rooms with flowers, You may leave them bare If no salty sea wind Wanders there. Leave tall candles burning, A house can be a grave — If it's far from water And a breaking wave. THE SEA REMEMBERS. THE sea remembers things she knew of yore. Ships that have flowered on her lovely breast And secret islands, silvered by a shore. The cry of winds that mocked her with a jest. Remembered beauty comes to haunt her still, A ghostly sail blown by at evenfall, A singing bird above a starry hill — In haunted hours she remembers all. She cannot quite forget these wistful things, Barges that were her lovers in old days And golden argosies with lifted wings, And splendid schooners that sailed down her bays. Always she dreams of masts and wooden spars Or a tall ship that passed beneath the stars. 31 RUMORS. THERE is a rumor when each ship returns Of ghostly harbors that it touched at dawn, Of blue lagoons where lifted beauty burns, Shore lines towards which its wooden spars have gone. There is a rumor of disastrous days And nights by quiet islands near a town, Of wine-red hills, beyond the v/aterways Where both the moon and lovely stars looked down. Now do they dream beneath the April sky Of olden time and golden circumstance. Of ancient summers, ended like a dance. And mad adventures, now a memory. A secret flower lying on their breast The wind dropped down upon an old, old quest. LET ME LIE. IET me lie in an unremembered place ^ With sorrel red about me and currants swaying ; Let the cool darkness fall upon my face — I only want to hear waves playing. I only ask this thing, sound of the sea, Clean water shifting under a granite ledge, Spindrift flying wildly by a tree. The sound of the wind among the sedge. Life must go on, to-morrow and to-morrow. Night following night and day following day ; Give me the one thing, Life, that I desire — The sound of wheeling gulls and waves at play. 32 PART IV. WHITE GLAMOUR. YOU CAME TO ME. You came to me with darkness as a lute On which you played strange melodies to woo me, You came with cymbals and wild timbrelling — With golden harmonies did you pursue me. Upon a pipe of lovely shivering reeds, You strung your arabesques like filigrees ; The notes were kisses blown to touch my lips As warm as rain upon pomegranate trees. You came to me with darkness as a lute, A twirl of tears to woo me and your eyes ; You brought me death and beauty, I was mute — Now do I hunger for you, O most wise. THE HOUSE OF DUST. WHEN this, our love, at last is buried low Beneath the flaming streets of a dark city And other hearts forget to scoff and pity Our lovely dream that burned as deep as woe. We shall arise again and gladly turn Down these far dew-drenched vales we tread to-day And wander where the rain-kissed boughs of May Shed streaming perfume over starry, fern. No one will see or guess that we are there. Who spoke their last farewell above our dust, When our hushed voices ended all surprise. And bitter silence for a moment thrust Dead waves across your beaut}' burning fair And petalled flowers over your sweet eyes. 35 THE NIGHTS REMEMBER. THE nights remember lovely things they knew, The words of lovers, tremulous and wise. And kisses blown and laughter and the beauty Of glowing eyes. The nights remember hours white with wonder, Lipped with red stars and strangely luminous ; Perchance, beloved, when the years have lengthened- They will remember us. UNBOUND. SHELTER me from loving you Lest it grow too great to bear. Put a silence to my song Lest it sing you everywhere. Let me be a common hour Or a careless word ; Pluck me, as you would a flower. Cage me, as you would a bird. For I praise you everywhere, Shout your wonder down the street ; Bind me, so I may not dare Leave you, sweet. 36 TALISMAN. I SHALL remember you in years to be, As June's first rose or as a golden bough, And all this beautv^ that we gather now Will be a song or a dear memory. I shall remember you as mists that blow Across reluctant fields where no sounds are And grief's dark night will wear a splendid star Because of the enchanted things I know. The peace of all your preciousness will make Each hour of pain an hour of loveliness, For some remembered call or faint caress Will startle me and make my soul awake. So I forget that woe is terrible — Remembering that love is beautiful. LITTLE DEATH. YOUR love died for me Like rain in a hollow, Suddenly there was no cry For me to follow. All that was dear and sweet Last, last December, Now is a little poem You can't remember. Your love died for me Like mist on a bough, Well, since I must forget — I will, somehow. 37 ROSEMARY. FOR the thought of you I'll wind up the clock, Sweep the floor And turn the lock. For the thought of you I'll put on a gown, A ribbon or two And go to town. For the thought of you I'll talk to strange folk And smile merrily — Though my heart's broke. MOONLIGHT MAGIC. MOONLIGHT is magic when a day is gone For shivering silver hangs upon each flower; Here where old lovers wandered once forlorn The trees are blown to beauty in an hour. Flowers and moonlight, these shall ever dwell A part of beauty on each secret hill, And whispered words that lovers dared not tell, Will be the birth of many a daffodil. Nor shall there be an ending to it all For always music shall drift down the air And shining petals tremble by a wall And olden loveliness pass unaware. We, who wear moonlight now like flower and grass. In later years will bring new things to pass. 38 VISION. I PUT my dream away, My dream of you ; A lonely little dream Of star and dew. Now you can only see Wild April skies When you look deep into My sober eyes. So sorrowfully sad Their look shall be — Your heart will never guess What made them see. SONG OF YOUNG LOVE. I MADE my love a palanquin From wood of Lebanon, The seats were all of purple And ivory from the dawn. For she who was to ride it Was fair to look upon. I made my love a palanquin, Inlaid with filigrees, The cushions were of river blue And color from the seas, And there were slaves to bear it Dark as pomegranate trees. I made my love a palanquin. The ceiling overhead Was silver and wild olive And ebony and red — I did not dream that it would be A place for young love dead. 39 PART V. OVERTONES. BURIED. DEEPER far than dead men lie Have I buried thoughts of you Underneath cool grasses And a night-green yew. Never shall the starlings wake Things that lie so deep ; Never shall the sunlight stir Thoughts asleep. Deeper far then dead men lie, Shaded and withdrawn, I have buried thoughts of you From another dawn. GLIMPSES. I SAW a star flame in the sky, I heard a wild bird sing And down where all the forest stirred Another answering. All suddenly I felt the gleam That made my faith revive — Ah God, it takes such simple things To keep the soul alive. 43 PASTORAL. THE air is thin and sweet With sounds I do not hear, Somewhere beauty blows As it does each year. Somewhere laughter calls Down a country lane, But I hear the shriek Of a noisy train. Somewhere lovers wait For maids undoubtedly, Wait for a word, a kiss, That belong to me. DEATH COMES. DEATH comes in a night. All that we cherish. Beauty and laughter Soon perish. Death comes in a day — House yourself well, Colin, Beatrice, Isobel. 44 OLD THINGS. SONGS that I have loved Come back to me, One cannot forget a bird Or the crying sea. Words that I have loved Give the heart no rest, Always they lie like flowers On the breast. Faces I have loved, Eyes that gave no sign, Did the soul behind them Yearn as much as mine '? MUSIC TIDES. TIDES of old music what do you sing Out in the darkness like a bird *? Listen and I zvill tell to you The unspeakable word. Tides of old music what do you cr}" Out where the warm stars flame '? Bend lew and I will vjhisper you The unspeakable name. 45 SURETY. Do not weep for her who lies In the silences, For she knew both youth and age And grew tired of these. Do not weep for she was glad To share the quiet earth, Who grew weary of such things As joy and mirth. Weep only for yourself Who pass unsatisfied — You have much to learn from her Who so gladly died. MISER. I HAVE seen many things. Too beautiful for words ; Twilights, tremulous with mist- Birds. I have heard music That was to me Soft as the clinging fingers Of the sea. I have known many things, Now I am old — I am a miser Counting my gold. 46 LIBRARY OF CONGR^^Sq ill If mill ill 11^, 018 394 504 A \^J