PS 3537 
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Class _J^ 
 
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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
THE HIDDEN GARDEN 
 
THE HIDDEN GARDEN 
 
 by 
 
 FLORENCE D. SNELLING 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 THE RANGER COMPANY 
 1916 
 
A 
 
 
 
 Copyright, 1915 by 
 
 ifj THE RANGER COMPANY 
 r^ BOSTON 
 
 APR -5 1916 
 
 OCU428395 
 
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 r^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^<r 
 
 vj 
 
For permission to reprint several 
 of the verses included in this 
 volume, thanks are due the editors 
 of The Atlantic Monthly, The 
 Century, Ainslee's Magazine, The 
 Outlook and The Christian Register, 
 
TF I should wind the clocks 
 And set the shutters wide, 
 She might return, house, 
 Forgetting she had died. 
 
 If on the ash-strewn hearth, 
 Where her heart made it home, 
 I lit again the fire, 
 To my heart she might come. 
 
 And in the silent rooms 
 If I should dare to sing. 
 Herself within the song 
 Might give me comforting. 
 
ORDER OF VERSES 
 
 I. The Plan 
 
 II. The Undesired Days 
 
 III. Neighbors 
 
 IV. The Window and the Lane 
 V. There's a moon now-a-nights 
 
 VI. Her Mirror 
 VII. Life's ecstacy 
 VIII. Love is the day 
 IX. UnHke as the lark 
 X. The Hidden Garden 
 XL Morning 
 XII. If resurrection mornings are like 
 this 
 
 XIII. I trembled at the threshold 
 
 XIV. Still is the deepest joy 
 XV. The hour that quickeneth 
 
 XVI. Flood-tide 
 
 XVII. Love's wise unreason brings 
 XVIII. Thou shalt not guess 
 XIX. The Approach 
 XX. The Hours 
 XXI. Love as a candle white 
 XXII. Parting 
 XXIII. As little could avail 
 XXIV. Hope 
 
XXV. 
 
 The Out-going 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Lord Love, heed Thou my 
 
 
 prayer 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Respite 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Need went out a-seeking 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Eager is the crowded mart 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Upon my hearth I found a fire 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 I dared to think it mine alone 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Enter not no w ! I would prepare 
 
 
 some place 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Lest I too deep within his soul 
 
 
 had seen 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Tribute 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The Victor 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 In Passing 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Annunciation 
 
 ^XXVIII. 
 
 ^oy tangled up the weaving 
 
 
 thread 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Hush not, bird, for fear I 
 
 
 guess 
 
 XL. 
 
 The Inland Road 
 
 XLI. 
 
 When we have ceased to long 
 
 
 for spring 
 
 XLII. 
 
 The Sudden Hour 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Tomorrow and tomorrow 
 
 
 stretch before 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Love said the perfect word 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Once, while the unknown road 
 
XL VI. Older than Omar's long-spent 
 spring 
 XLVII. The East Wind 
 XLVIII. A little while the storm we 
 share 
 XLIX. The wind that stirs the clover- 
 tops 
 L. Whither, O western wind 
 LI. Between low banks the brook 
 
 flows on 
 LIT The Path 
 LIII. The burden of the heat upon 
 
 me lay 
 LIV. The Pleasant Field 
 LV. Somewhere our sunset makes 
 the morn 
 LVI. The year fulfilled, unsorrowing 
 LVII. November 
 
 LVIII. Nature wearying of blossoms 
 LIX. Loss 
 
 LX. Winter Rain 
 LXI. Now is earth's day far spent 
 LXII. This a thought at summer's 
 
 end 
 LXIII. Love is long though Time has 
 
 wings 
 LXIV. This is the way the morning 
 
 came 
 LXV. A Demand 
 
LXVI. The world is all unworthy of 
 
 its June 
 LXVII. Gift and giver, Love, thou art 
 LXVIII. Secrets 
 LXIX. Valentines 
 LXX. See, the limits of the nest 
 LXXI. A Rebuke 
 LXXII. Ah, it is poverty indeed 
 LXXIII. A Memory 
 LXXIV. The Dark Sea 
 LXXV. Distances 
 LXX VI. Voiceless the solitudes that 
 
 intervene 
 LXXVIL How far is it from heart to 
 
 heart 
 LXXVIIL The Memorial by F. 
 Duveneck 
 LXXIX. Prayer 
 LXXX, Unfathomed space 
 LXXXL Te Deum Laudamus 
 LXXXIL We measure off God's wide 
 
 eternity 
 LXXXin. Build as we may we shall not 
 
 reach the sky 
 LXXXIV. "I will not lose Thee, Lord," 
 I cried 
 LXXXV. So wide the sky 
 
 LXXXVL Elusive 
 
LXXXVII. Dreams 
 LXXXVIII. The Travelers 
 LXXXIX. As to deep notes of music 
 XC. A White Moment 
 XCI. Little Questions, you are 
 
 blind 
 XCII. To Clement of Alexandria 
 XCIIl. Laborers 
 
 XCIV. A barren little muse, De- 
 cember born 
 XCV. Life 
 XCVI. A Reminder 
 XCVIL October clover 
 XCVIIL I planned to help the sun 
 arise 
 XCIX. At Sunrise in December 
 
 C. " Fear no more the heat 
 
 o' the sun" 
 CL "With what body do they 
 come ? " 
 CIL The Strong Soul 
 CIIL **Mine hour is not yet come'' 
 CIV. Fhght 
 CV. Light-heart, how well do 
 I remember thee 
 CVI. Cold keen wind from the 
 
 northwest blowing 
 CVI I. Sunlight in the Room 
 CVIII. The Witnesses 
 CIX. Songs at the spring 
 
I. 
 
 THE PLAN 
 
 TO build the year with all things beau- 
 tiful, 
 Then bid them by strange ways to cease to 
 
 be: 
 To smite the land with whirlwind and with 
 frost; 
 
 To lay earth's loveliness as low as earth; 
 To blur all color, and to mar all form; 
 To still the song; at last to seal with snow; 
 Thus to undo the perfect work of life; 
 And then to build anew, by blade and leaf, 
 Blossom and fruit and scent and sound and 
 
 song 
 Another year for self -same harvesting, — 
 This is the Plan by which are magnified 
 The Power and the Wisdom of the Lord. 
 
II 
 
 THE UNDESIRED DAYS 
 
 UNDAUNTED spring, with strong up- 
 surging sap, 
 And tender leaf, and eager, untried wing. 
 With lengthening and undesired days, 
 Divides the old sweet time forever done 
 From this, when all of life-long dread comes 
 
 true. 
 Yet have I found amid the meagre hours 
 A solitary gift the lavish spring 
 Withholds, and I would tell to timid bird 
 And trembling leaf and blossom that must 
 
 fade. 
 That there shall come a time without a fear, 
 When neither darkness nor unclouded noon 
 Can strike with ancient terror the new 
 
 peace. 
 
 4 
 
III. 
 
 NEIGHBORS 
 
 THROUGH windows three the Night 
 looks in; 
 Lighted the room 
 By lamps that bum unflickering 
 Against the gloom. 
 
 The Dark my nightly neighbor is, 
 
 Ever at gaze, 
 Peering as though in wonderment 
 
 At my strange ways. 
 
 The Wind knows many tongues ; tonight 
 
 Through windows three 
 A tale of the uprising tide 
 
 It brings to me; 
 
 While I between the little lamps 
 
 That stand on guard, 
 Watch Neighbor Dark and, wondering, 
 
 Hear the Wind's word. 
 
IV. 
 THE WINDOW AND THE LANE 
 
 FOR the dear feet returning 
 That will not come again, 
 Dear eyes that now are darkened 
 Watched at this window-pane. 
 Little, expectant window. 
 Watch thou the empty lane ! 
 
V 
 
 THERE *S a moon now-a-nights 
 shining on the Httle cove, 
 And a wind blowing in from the sea; 
 There's a tide leaping higher, 
 
 wave by wave of crystal fire, 
 Up the rock where two used to be. 
 
 Other Heart, dost thou know? 
 
 Other Heart, dost thou love? 
 Other Heart, dost thou hear and see? 
 Where the waters flow white, 
 
 there's a voice in the night 
 Crying out, Other Heart, to thee. 
 
VI. 
 HER MIRROR 
 
 O WASTEFUL mirror, hadst thou kept 
 but one 
 Of all the dear reflections of her face, 
 What treasure mine these many empty 
 days 
 Wherethrough, alone, I seek from sun to 
 
 sun 
 That which is now forever more undone. 
 Nor dwells in anything nor any place ! 
 
 Yet, didst thou hold what all earth else hath 
 not, 
 O mirror; if I found her only there, 
 Unchanging, fixed in thy insensate 
 care, — 
 Found her, — long sought, long-sought! 
 Then would I shatter thee that so didst 
 
 dare! 
 My jealous heart her semblance will not 
 
 share; 
 My unf orgetting heart — -no otherwhere — 
 Her world; — a deeper thought within my 
 thought. 
 
 8 
 
VII. 
 
 LIFE'S ecstacy 
 In pain has proof; 
 Life's agony — 
 Love knows thereof I 
 
VIII. 
 
 LOVE is the day 
 In which we wake, 
 For whose dear sake 
 Dark flees away. 
 
 Love is the night 
 Wherein we sleep, 
 The wider deep 
 
 That circles light. 
 
 10 
 
IX. 
 
 UNLIKE as the lark 
 And the thrush — 
 Hark ! 
 Hush ! 
 The word of the skies 
 East and west — 
 Rise ! 
 Rest. 
 
 11 
 
X. 
 
 THE HIDDEN GARDEN 
 
 THE garden walls are high; 
 And yet, year after year, 
 Beloved passerby, 
 
 What time thou drawest near, 
 
 Quick stirs the old surmise; 
 
 And punctual blossoms greet 
 Thy dear unheeding eyes, 
 
 And thy unpausing feet. 
 
 12 
 
XL 
 MORNING 
 
 TO the valley-meadow 
 Came the day : 
 Where the night-long shadow 
 Deepest lay 
 
 Low the clouds were leaning, 
 
 Till a lark 
 Woke to tell the meaning 
 
 Of the dark. 
 
 13 
 
XII. 
 
 IF resurrection mornings are like this 
 How good to rise ! 
 Immortal as the quickened grass beneath 
 These April skies ! 
 
 Love's fashion glad, that older is than 
 death, 
 Clothes life anew; 
 Earth wakes in sudden beauty, and my 
 heart 
 Again holds you. 
 
 14 
 
XIII. 
 
 I TREMBLED at the threshold ere I 
 went 
 To mate my soul with thine; 
 But broken is the Bread at Sacrament 
 And measured is the Wine; 
 So are we safe in the divine excess 
 Of blessedness. 
 
 15 
 
XIV. 
 
 STILL is the deepest joy. I have no 
 word. 
 How put within the compass of a thought 
 This that thy spirit to my spirit brought, 
 Unsought, unseen, unheard ! 
 
 Tomorrow it may be that I will speak- 
 So soon in us the lesser thing finds 
 
 place — 
 But for today — unutterable grace, 
 
 A silence naught shall break. 
 
 16 
 
T 
 
 XV. 
 
 HE hour that quickeneth 
 To life from death,— 
 This, out of all Time gave, 
 Alone we save. 
 
 17 
 
XVI. 
 FLOOD-TIDE 
 
 OLIFE, thou hast no bond of time or 
 place 
 For souls akin! 
 The little barriers of the lowlands break, 
 The tide comes in ! 
 
 If there are valleys down beneath the sea 
 
 They hidden lie ; 
 And earth, her lesser self awhile forgot. 
 
 Reflects the sky. 
 
 18 
 
XVIL 
 
 LOVE'S wise unreason brings 
 Thee all my treasured things, 
 Thou mayest choose to leave 
 Or take, but I must give. 
 
 For when the new command 
 Shall stay my emptied hand, 
 How bear my penury 
 Had I kept aught from thee ? 
 
 19 
 
XVIII. 
 
 THOU Shalt not guess 
 From whence this awful tide of 
 blessedness, 
 But thou shalt say: 
 **0 life is good today! 
 Pleasant the bounteous grass 
 Through which I pass, 
 And gladdening the presence of the child 
 That looked on me and smiled.'' 
 God and one heart beside 
 Know whence the tide. 
 
 20 
 
XIX. 
 THE APPROACH 
 
 THE day fails in the sky; 
 The dark comes up the sea; 
 A fear enmeshes me 
 Because the night is nigh. 
 
 Alert, I watch the change: 
 The sifted shadow falls; 
 A bird, unanswered, calls; 
 
 A star wakes, white and strange. 
 
 21 
 
XX. 
 THE HOURS 
 
 NIGHT-LONG the beating of the sea 
 Upon my heart. 
 In its unending Htany 
 My voiceless part. 
 
 Beseechings inarticulate, 
 
 That ebb and flow, 
 Some power to propitiate, 
 
 Averting woe. 
 
 Later, a moon fantastic, lit 
 
 With silver flame; 
 Then a white morn, that pursued it 
 
 And overcame. 
 
 22 
 
XXI. 
 
 LOVE as a candle white 
 Wars with the night, 
 Piercing a path, a guard 
 With slender sword; 
 
 Trembles at touch of dawn 
 Dims, and is gone, — 
 One with the Light of Light, 
 Victor of night. 
 
 23 
 
XXII. 
 PARTING 
 
 LOVE breaks the barrier that keeps 
 Thee close in love's caress, — 
 So stern is love, the while it weeps 
 In sudden wistfulness. 
 
 24 
 
XXIII. 
 
 As little could avail 
 Who strove to stay 
 The ebbing day, 
 Or make an echo frail, 
 Borne by the wind, 
 Tarry behind ! — 
 There is no way, no way 
 
 That heart can find ! — 
 How fast the visions fail ! 
 
 25 
 
XXIV. 
 HOPE 
 
 FRAIL as a dew-web, spun 
 In dusty grass, 
 While swift cloud-shadows pass 
 Before the sun. 
 
 Fleet as a bird on wing 
 Through the wide night, 
 An instant poised in sight 
 
 Ere vanishing. 
 
 26 
 
XXV. 
 THE OUT-GOING 
 
 THE quivering leaves above 
 Have ceased to move, 
 Nor is the sudden silence stirred 
 By note of bird. 
 
 Why does the forest pause? 
 What is it awes? 
 A flower fallen in the grass ? — 
 Or did joy pass? 
 
 27 
 
XXVI. 
 
 LORD Love, heed Thou my prayer 
 Not yet, not yet, 
 Till I forget to pray: 
 Let me for get \ 
 Till I shall ask of Thee 
 A harder tning : 
 Let me rejoice, rejoice 
 Remembering ! 
 
 28 
 
XXVII. 
 
 RESPITE 
 
 THE heart her sabbath kept, 
 Her daily tasks put by; 
 Unsung her ecstacy, 
 Her wordless grief unwept. 
 
 As one at pain's release, 
 Ere joy again should sting 
 Too deep for comforting, 
 
 She kept the law of peace. 
 
 29 
 
XXVIII, 
 
 NEED went out a-seeking, 
 Scarce knew what she sought 
 Scattered is my treasure 
 Far and wide, she thought. 
 
 Love went forth to find her, 
 
 Up and down the land, 
 With her unknown treasure 
 
 Hidden in his hand. 
 
 30 
 
XXIX. 
 
 EAGER is the crowded mart; 
 Need and need meet and miss. 
 Plentitude is in that heart, 
 Poverty in this. 
 
 **I have need." "I have store. 
 
 ''Give, for pity's sake ! '* 
 ''Greater mercy, I implore: 
 
 O, in pity, take ! '* 
 
 >» 
 
 31 
 
XXX. 
 
 UPON my hearth I found a fire 
 I kindled not; 
 It flashed, insistent as desire, 
 About the barren spot. 
 
 Henceforth my heart must guard the flame; 
 
 I fear the gloom 
 I knew not till the fire became 
 
 Revealer of the room. 
 
 32 
 
XXXI. 
 
 I DARED to think it mine alone, 
 Won in a solitary strife : 
 From stranger-eyes the truth out-shone, 
 Another soul revealed its own 
 And shared my deeper life. 
 
 33 
 
XXXII. 
 
 ENTER not now! I would prepare 
 some place, 
 Make clean and sweet and beautiful a room 
 Where we may know each other face to 
 
 face, — 
 And yet, O friend, since thou today art 
 
 come. 
 Thy presence be the purifying grace 
 To render fit my home ! 
 
 34 
 
XXXIII. 
 
 LEST I too deep within his soul had 
 seen 
 What he had not yet known, 
 The veil of self shut down our lives between, 
 And each stood safe, alone . 
 
 35 
 
XXXIV. 
 TRIBUTE 
 
 PRAISES for prophets by whose sight 
 we see; 
 Honors for heroes in whose might we win; 
 Tenderer tribute to that brother be 
 Whose deed reveals our uncommitted sin . 
 
 36 
 
XXXV. 
 THE VICTOR 
 
 FROM unforgetting eyes 
 Peer stricken memories 
 Life was a braver thing 
 Before this conquering. 
 
 37 
 
XXXVI. 
 IN PASSING 
 
 A TIME-WORN face, 
 With lines deep-set, — 
 A face to pass and to forget. 
 So commonplace ! 
 
 But suddenly — 
 
 The semblance gone 
 
 A travailing soul I looked upon 
 In passing by. 
 
 38 
 
XXXVII. 
 ANNUNCIATION. 
 
 IN March, month of desire, 
 The unseen wings 
 Fan up the primal fire 
 At heart of things. 
 
 And fettered feet stand free, 
 
 And the deaf hear 
 From sealed lips, suddenly, 
 
 A cry of — fear. 
 
 For cruel keen the light. 
 
 And harsh the air; 
 Spring as a sword doth smite 
 
 Earth unaware. 
 
 39 
 
XXXVIII. 
 
 JOY tangled up the weaving thread, 
 As hands of strangers do; 
 Flung to the winds the reel of red, 
 And snarled the skein of blue. 
 
 The careful pattern called content 
 We wrought before Joy came 
 
 Now hangs irreparably rent 
 Upon its narrow frame. 
 
 And Joy is fled ! Mayhap he weaves 
 
 In beauty otherwhere; 
 But unto us, alas, he leaves 
 
 A problem of repair. 
 
 40 
 
H 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 USH not, O bird, for fear I guess 
 And share your heart of hap- 
 piness. 
 
 O rose, you careless treasurer. 
 From me your secret is secure. 
 
 O hush not, hide not, fear not me; 
 My joy is locked, withheld the key. 
 
 41 
 
XL. 
 THE INLAND ROAD 
 
 ALONG an inland road I fare— 
 O but my heart is otherwhere ! 
 All day I hear a sea- wind blow. 
 And feel the tides flood high, ebb low, 
 And know the colors of the sky 
 Beneath which the white sea-gulls fly; 
 And, in a world of thee and me, 
 I rest where cliffs reach out to sea. 
 And watch, till miracle be done, 
 Pursuing shadow, fleeing sun, 
 The while, through these blind ways of 
 
 dust, 
 I go alone — because I must. 
 
 42 
 
XLI. 
 
 WHEN we have ceased to long for 
 spring, 
 Winter is past. 
 Hearts that have finished hungering 
 May feast at last. 
 
 Death of desire shall soon or late 
 
 Our need complete. 
 Yet haste not, O insatiate, 
 
 Desire is sweet. 
 
 43 
 
XLII. 
 THE SUDDEN HOUR 
 
 OPEN roads beckon me 
 Far, beyond sight; 
 Empty hearths call to me 
 For warmth and light. 
 
 Others shall light the fire 
 And find the home, 
 
 Follow the wider roads, — 
 I cannot come. 
 
 44 
 
XLIII. 
 
 TOMORROW and tomorrow stretch 
 before 
 And suramon from my door 
 Your eager feet. I do not bid you stay, 
 Straight Hes your way. 
 Yet, as you go, unguessed within your 
 
 eyes 
 I see goodbyes 
 
 Of yesterdays you cannot know, 
 My yesterdays of long ago; 
 And these, my answering tears that 
 
 start, 
 This ache of heart, 
 This blessing on your dear unheeding 
 
 head 
 Are for my dead. 
 
 45 
 
XLIV. 
 
 LOVE said the perfect word 
 Long, long ago, 
 Changeless, the heart inferred; 
 Life was to show 
 
 How love could lose love's smile, 
 
 Lack love's caress. 
 Proving the long, long while 
 
 Love's changelessness. 
 
 46 
 
XLV. 
 
 ONCE, while the unknown road 
 We travelled side by side, 
 A thought her light bestowed 
 To be our guide. 
 
 Now, lest this life should lack 
 When parted ways there be, 
 
 Always the thought leads back 
 Again to thee. 
 
 47 
 
XLVI. 
 
 OLDER than Omar's long-spent 
 spring 
 The scent of roses hither blown, 
 Intangible, unaltering 
 Though hearts in dust go down. 
 
 Frail sign of immortality. 
 Fleeting, and yet forever part 
 Of the imperious ecstacy 
 Within earth's prisoned heart. 
 
 48 
 
XLVII. 
 THE EAST WIND 
 
 TO hearts that wait 
 Far from the place where they would 
 be, 
 I bring the message of the sea 
 Across the marshes desolate; 
 With mingled scent of salt and rain, 
 With clouds of gray that sweep the sky 
 I come to those who wait in vain, 
 And question why. 
 I tell of tides that to and fro 
 On their appointed courses go 
 In spite of calms or tempests high; 
 Of the great depths that quiet lie 
 The ever-restless waves below. 
 I bring the message of the sea 
 None but a patient heart may know. 
 Is it for thee ? 
 
 49 
 
XLVIII. 
 
 A LITTLE while the storm we share, 
 Fury of wave and wind-blown rain, 
 Then, turning from the terror there, 
 Seek shelter once again. 
 
 Lest, in the tempest, from the soul 
 The shreds of self be torn away 
 
 We dare not listen to the Whole 
 That Nature has to say. 
 
 50 
 
XLIX. 
 
 THE wind that stirs the clover-tops 
 May speed a thunder cloud, 
 The heart of power can be both 
 So humble and so proud. 
 
 And this that touches me todaj^— 
 
 Mysterious as the wind — 
 I marvel that it can at once 
 
 Be terrible and kind. 
 
 51 
 
L. 
 
 WHITHER, O western wind, 
 Speeding away 
 Over the purpled sea 
 At close of day? 
 
 — 'Tis but a little world 
 
 Winds blow about, 
 And but a little way 
 
 Souls venture out. — 
 
 Seek ye the whitherward 
 
 Beyond the sea? — 
 Ah, but the whitherward 
 
 The whence will be. 
 
 52 
 
LI. 
 
 BETWEEN low banks the brook flows 
 on 
 
 And bears me forth its gentle way; 
 Nor fern nor twig nor hindering stone 
 Our ceaseless pace can stay. 
 
 The singing birds above me share 
 
 My secret of unhasting flight, 
 Buds lift as they become aware, 
 
 Desire toward the light. 
 
 So pass I onward to the sea, 
 So in the bird song have I part, 
 
 So spring wherever blossoms be 
 The longings of my heart. 
 
 53 
 
LII. 
 THE PATH 
 
 LONG since unknown, one did the field 
 divide; 
 Some eager human errand, sad or sweet, 
 Made here this way of the forgotten feet, 
 Wherein we also follow side by side. 
 
 54 
 
LIII. 
 
 THE burden of the heat upon me lay; 
 **I will return,'' I said. 
 **Long grasses in that morning meadow 
 sway 
 To cool my feet, my head." 
 
 Beneath the burden of a wasted day 
 
 Back to the field I went. 
 There other hands that harvested the hay 
 
 Reaped my long-sought content. 
 
 55 
 
LIV. 
 THE PLEASANT FIELD 
 
 A PLEASANT field to man is lent 
 Wherein to toil till Time be spent; 
 In whose safe bosom, gently pressed, 
 Sower and seed at last shall rest. 
 
 56 
 
LV. 
 
 SOMEWHERE our sunset makes the 
 mom, 
 A shadowed land awakes to Hght ; 
 Beyond the west a day is bom 
 From out our night. 
 
 Day that it is not ours to know, 
 Dawn, for us but a rosy past, 
 
 Then a fast-fading afterglow, 
 And dark, at last. 
 
 57 
 
LVI. 
 
 THE year fulfilled, unsorrowing 
 November yieldeth all to death, 
 But oh, the wistfulness of spring 
 When the first blossom withereth ! 
 
 58 
 
LVIL 
 NOVEMBER 
 
 THIS the morning after frost: 
 Life no longer strives or clings; 
 One by one, a leafy host 
 
 Floats to earth on golden wings. 
 
 While above, a far, faint blue 
 Watches through the quiet air. 
 
 Hope withheld and hope come true 
 Sealed with silence everywhere. 
 
 59 
 
LVIII. 
 
 NATURE wearying of blossoms, 
 In some latitudes 
 Blights them with the snow and silence 
 Of her winter moods. 
 
 Ah, I falter at the question 
 
 I am fain to ask, — 
 Comes there unto hearts a season 
 
 When love is a task? 
 
 60 
 
LIX 
 LOSS 
 
 Tx\KE a bird song from the sumraer's 
 Joyousness 
 And none ever dream the chorus 
 One voice less. 
 
 But, amid the winter stillness 
 
 Of the snows, 
 When a sparrow ceases chirping, — 
 
 Then one knows. 
 
 61 
 
LX. 
 WINTER RAIN 
 
 TOO late to bless the fields now black 
 and low 
 With frozen need beyond thine utmost aid, 
 Futile thou art, as love the living know 
 Weeping a word delayed. 
 
 62 
 
LXI. 
 
 NOW is earth's day far spent; the night 
 is near; 
 Tremulous ecstacy of dawning spring 
 And rapture of high summer, perfecting 
 All promise in fulfilment, failing here, 
 Let fall the moments of the waning year 
 One after one ; passionless ruin hastes; 
 Silent the Word, and ever beauty wastes 
 In the pale presence of a peace austere. 
 
 The mystery of darkness approacheth, 
 And life, the terrible and exquisite, 
 Withdrawing to the earth's unfathomed 
 breast, 
 Doth there endure the winter of this death, 
 And weave anew, with yearning infinite, 
 A garment for the Secret none hath 
 guessed. 
 
 63 
 
LXII. 
 
 THIS a thought at summer's end: 
 Seeds of summer make the spring 
 Of the next year's blossoming. 
 
 And beneath the wintry ways, 
 Through the storm and stem delays, 
 Love, unseen, lives on, O friend. 
 
 64 
 
LXIII. 
 
 r OVE is long though Time has wings! 
 
 This the solace that Life brings 
 Though it take a thousand things. 
 
 In the silence or the song, 
 
 Glad the thought and deep and strong 
 
 Time is fleet but Love is long! 
 
 65 
 
LXIV. 
 
 THIS is the way the morning came 
 There rose smiting wind, 
 The sun flung out a torch of flame, 
 And Love a word did find , 
 
 This is the way the morning came : 
 
 Across the brooding sea 
 I breathed toward the sun thy name 
 
 And blessed the day to thee . 
 
 66 
 
LXV. 
 A DEMAND 
 
 HEART-ROOM here where Love has 
 hid— 
 Unexplained, as best things are ! — 
 Shall the fields a flower forbid, 
 Or the skies exclude a star? 
 
 67 
 
LXVI. 
 
 THE world is all unworthy of its June 
 Till June herself complete 
 The beauty of the sky our heads above, 
 
 The beauty at our feet. 
 I tremble lest I claim a joy too soon, 
 
 Daring to love thee, Sweet, 
 Yet how may life be worthier of love 
 Till love and life shall meet? 
 
 68 
 
LXVII. 
 
 GIFT and giver, Love, thou art ! 
 At the touch of spring 
 Birds find voice and petals part 
 For thy worshipping. 
 
 Love that bloometh for a day, 
 
 Love of briefest song, 
 Each makes beautiful the way, 
 
 And the way is long ! 
 
 Hiding in the heart of each 
 
 Seeds of the To-be, 
 Love in all her words would teach 
 
 Immortality. 
 
 69 
 
LXVIIL 
 SECRETS 
 
 IF you know wherefore a flower 
 Turns toward the sun, 
 What the petals close to cover 
 When the day is done, 
 
 As possessor of these secrets 
 
 Of the scent and dew, 
 You may guess the heart-deep reason 
 
 That I turn to you. 
 
 70 
 
LXIX. 
 VALENTINES 
 
 HE who says: ''One robin 
 Doesn't make a spring," 
 Filled with too much learning 
 Knows not anything ! 
 
 Wiser he, who hearing 
 
 Robin's call — or thine — 
 Sets the heart-door swinging, 
 
 Waits no second sign. 
 
 II 
 
 A GARDEN brave with fir and pine, 
 
 In February stirred 
 By a new note, the prophet sign 
 
 Of joy beyond all word ! 
 O if that garden-heart were mine 
 
 And thou the singing bird ! 
 
 71 
 
LXX. 
 
 SEE, the limits of the nest 
 Wing the flight; 
 Blossoms, by their buds oppressed, 
 Claim the light. 
 
 Little self, wilt thou come forth ? 
 
 Life is wide; 
 That which would complete thy worth 
 
 Waits outside. 
 
 72 
 
LXXI. 
 A REBUKE 
 
 AS if a rose should question 
 Because it grew so slow ! 
 Impatient little flower, 
 It is not thine to know 
 Appointed times and seasons, — 
 Thy duty is to grow. 
 
 For, if too soon thou bloomest, 
 The tempest winds that blow 
 May spoil thy fragrant beauty 
 And lay thy petals low, 
 Then one who cometh after 
 Without his rose would go. 
 
 73 
 
LXXII. 
 
 OH, it is poverty indeed 
 To have not for another's need ! 
 But thou art rich whose love can bless 
 Another life with happiness. 
 
 74 
 
LXXIII. 
 A MEMORY 
 
 THE white road from the harbor town 
 Mid-morning, and July; 
 Cloudless the sun that would smite down 
 Such timid folk as I. 
 
 A thought beyond are shadowed lane, 
 And wave-cooled shore, and sea; 
 
 But I go the white road again, 
 With the old fear on me. 
 
 75 
 
LXXIV. 
 THE DARK SEA 
 
 INCALCULABLE currents and strange 
 tides 
 Have swept thee forth on self's uncharted 
 
 sea; — 
 No otherwhere in all the world besides 
 So cruel far could be. 
 
 Thought cannot reach thee; unavailing 
 
 love 
 Through the great dark uplifts a torch in 
 
 vain. 
 What word shall on these wastes of being 
 
 move 
 To bring thee light again? 
 
 76 
 
LXXV. 
 DISTANCES 
 
 WE marvel that the Silence can divide 
 The living from the dead ; yet more 
 apart 
 Are they who all life long dwell side by side 
 But never heart by heart. 
 
 77 
 
LXXVI. 
 
 VOICELESS the solitudes that inter- 
 vene: 
 Soul unto soul in separated light 
 Answers across the mystery of Night 
 As star to star, a great gulf set between. 
 
 78 
 
LXXVII. 
 
 HOW far is it from heart to heart? 
 So near it is — so near 
 That all of time the Present is 
 And every place is Here, 
 
 And yet, sometimes, from heart to heart 
 
 It is as far — as far 
 As to unmeasured distances 
 
 Beyond the dimmest star. 
 
 79 
 
LXXVIII. 
 THE MEMORIAL BY F. DUVENECK. 
 
 THOU didst not know it was for this 
 that Life, 
 The mighty sculptor, made thee beautiful, 
 And chiselled thee with keen-edged joy and 
 
 pain 
 Unto the type of perfect womanhood ; 
 That when on quiet feet, on pulseless 
 
 breast, 
 Should gently lie the victor-palm of peace, 
 Thou mightest waken in the artist's love 
 The power to show immortal purity 
 Unto a weary, sinning world of men. 
 
 80 
 
LXXIX, 
 
 PRAYER 
 
 I COME to Thee for aid; 
 Thou puttest shadows by. 
 Filled by Thy presence, Lord, 
 What lesser need have I ! 
 
 81 
 
LXXX. 
 
 UNFATHOMED space 
 And farthest thought 
 God's power doth enfold; 
 To earthly ways 
 His love hath brought 
 The beauty we behold. 
 
 Lest we forget 
 
 How great He is 
 
 There wait the sky and sea. 
 
 A violet 
 
 His tenderness 
 
 Reveals to you and me. 
 
 82 
 
LXXXI. 
 TE DEUM LAUDAMUS 
 
 FROM the depths of color, 
 From the heart of tone, 
 From the sculptured marble 
 And the builded stone 
 Soars the great Te Deum 
 Art hath always known. 
 
 83 
 
LXXXII. 
 
 WE measure off God's wide eternity 
 By weeks and months and years; 
 and it is well : 
 So do we build these houses where we dwell 
 Because we cannot bear the mysterious sky. 
 
 But we who breathe illimitable air, 
 On whom the light of unknown stars de- 
 scends, — 
 Ours are the small beginnings and the ends. 
 There are no God-placed limits anywhere. 
 
 84 
 
B 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 UILD as we may we shall not reach the 
 
 sky; 
 
 Oiir little arches bend forever low 
 Beneath the eternal arch that curves on 
 
 high, 
 Above the eternal depths we do not 
 
 know. 
 
 85 
 
LXXXIV. 
 
 " J WILL not lose Thee, Lord," I cried, 
 
 In fear and pride. 
 And then — as far as soul could see — 
 Around my little doubt and me 
 
 The universe grew wide ! 
 "I cannot lose Thee, Lord," I cried, 
 "There is nor land nor sky nor sea 
 That is not wholly filled by Thee!" 
 
 86 
 
LXXXV. 
 
 SO wide the sky ! 
 So small am I ! 
 So great Thou art, 
 O Loving Heart, 
 No life can be 
 Outside of Thee. 
 
 87 
 
LXXXVI. 
 ELUSIVE 
 
 A WHITE cloud faded against the blue, 
 And my heart grew silent as the sky. 
 So faint, so far ! yet I nearly knew 
 The thought that passed me by ! 
 
 88 
 
LXXXVII. 
 DREAMS 
 
 INTANGIBLE existences, 
 That fade and are forgot; 
 Without a past; whose future is 
 Waking to what is not. 
 
 89 
 
LXXXVIII. 
 THE TRAVELERS 
 
 ALONG the safe white path of day 
 The busy thoughts go on their way. 
 But dreams, day-hidden, wander far 
 From unknown star to unknown star. 
 
 90 
 
LXXXIX. 
 
 AS to deep notes of music 
 The over-tones reply 
 And wing their way to heaven, 
 Rising inaudibly. 
 
 So spirit answers spirit, 
 So thou, O note divine, 
 Hast waked a higher vision 
 Within this heart of mine. 
 
 91 
 
xc. 
 
 A WHITE MOMENT 
 
 ABOUT the swooning self the senses 
 fling 
 Their sheltering dulness to restore my sight, 
 Excess of beauty is a fearful thing, 
 And I was lost in light. 
 
 92 
 
XCI. 
 
 LITTLE Questions, you are 
 blind; 
 You would be 
 Answers I am fain to find 
 Could you see. 
 
 Light, the miracle, delays; 
 
 You must grow 
 To a wider wonder-place 
 
 Ere I know. 
 
 93 
 
XCII. 
 TO CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA 
 
 LATEST, least of kinsmen, I; 
 Yet, O father, as I read 
 Ancient answer to my need 
 Can I heritage deny? 
 
 Flashed thy thought in pulse of flame 
 
 Once far centuries ago, 
 
 Calling whom thou didst not know; 
 Late I came. 
 
 94 
 
XCIII. 
 LABORERS 
 
 AS the Pattern doth allow, 
 From the substance of the heart, 
 Brother Spider, I and thou 
 Labor at the loom of Art. 
 
 Weave to perfect form a thought. 
 
 Clothe eternity in time. 
 Little brother, so are wrought 
 
 Worlds, a fragile web, a rhyme. 
 
 95 
 
XCIV. 
 
 A BARREN little muse, December 
 born, 
 Most quickened by gray weather and the 
 
 wind, 
 Silenced by sunshine and a bit forlorn, — 
 x\s too-bright happiness leaves hope be- 
 hind. 
 
 She turns toward the light she knows not 
 
 yet, 
 From out the shelter of the dusk she knows; 
 Her climbing feet unto the hills are set. 
 Upon whose stony ways the great wind 
 
 blows. 
 
 96 
 
xcv. 
 
 LIFE 
 
 UNCOUNTED days, as like as pearl 
 to pearl, 
 Strung on the silver thread of memory; 
 Days of the changeless, everchanging sea 
 Pulsing within the being of the girl, 
 
 Waking, the woman to the mystery 
 Of life that alters ever, yet abides. 
 Set to the rhythm of the ceaseless tides; 
 Days of the white roads hedged with 
 bayberry; 
 Of stony fields and footways in the grass, — 
 A sweet monotony through which to pass. 
 Until, at last, when finished are the years, 
 To one dear road as dust to dust to come; 
 Beside the pines the heart to find a home; 
 The wise sea to take back life's hopes and 
 fears. 
 
 97 
 
XCVI. 
 A REMINDER 
 
 BROUGHT by the wind, 
 Sent by the tree,— 
 Bright little leaf, 
 Is your message for me? 
 
 Soft is the sound, 
 
 Light is the touch, — 
 
 Flutter to earth 
 
 Lest you tell me too much ! 
 
 98 
 
XCVII. 
 
 OCTOBER clover, 
 Belated bee, 
 For you and me, 
 Summer is over. 
 
 The days are fleeter 
 And blossoms few, 
 Yet (if bees knew ! ) 
 
 Late joy's the sweeter ! 
 
 99 
 
XCVIII. 
 
 I PLANNED to help the sun arise; 
 But as I slumbered came the day. 
 Not mine to lighten heavy eyes 
 And put the dark away. 
 
 Omnipotence I thought to aid : 
 While yet my eager hands were still 
 
 The morning that I had not made 
 Brought blessing for the will. 
 
 100 
 
XCIX. 
 AT SUNRISE IN DECEMBER 
 
 THE summer had no glory keen as this. 
 Earth is transfigured, white and 
 glistering. 
 Blue is the living sea, blue, passionate 
 And terrible, alert with sudden waves 
 That, crystal-capped, before the north 
 
 wind run; 
 Across the ice-bound marsh, on the low 
 
 hills, 
 The cedars, like enchanted warriors, 
 Lift their dark spears, erect and motion- 
 less; 
 From hidden hearths, the iridescent smoke 
 Bears witness to an unseen human toil; 
 The cloudless winter sky is over all. 
 And in the heart there stirs a sense of 
 
 things 
 Beyond life's knowledge and experience, 
 Too beautiful for grief, too strange for joy. 
 
 101 
 
c. 
 
 "FEAR NO MORE THE HEAT O' THE 
 
 SUN" 
 
 I CAN be glad the unspent body dies, — 
 I can be glad, at last ! 
 Not thine, not thine those tired feet that 
 
 passed, 
 Not thine th' age-stricken eyes. 
 
 102 
 
CI. 
 
 *^WITH WHAT BODY DO THEY 
 COME ? " 
 
 SOMETIMES in sudden light from other 
 eyes; 
 Sometimes in breaking bread; in touch, in 
 
 tone; 
 Presences of the way; voice of new skies; — 
 Lo, we have felt and known. 
 
 103 
 
CII. 
 
 THE STRONG SOUL 
 
 STILL is the winner greater than the 
 prize, 
 The loser than the loss; 
 So like the twain, that Life fulfils, denies, 
 And crowns upon a Cross. 
 
 104 
 
cm. 
 
 " MINE HOUR IS NOT YET COME " 
 
 THERE was a marriage-day in Galilee, 
 When love by Love was blessed; 
 He brought a gift of goodly wine, for He 
 Was Wedding Guest. 
 
 THE HOUR 
 
 THERE was a Chamber in Jerusalem 
 Where Love the Uttermost 
 Made for His friends a Feast, and gave to 
 them 
 Himself, the Host. 
 
 105 
 
CIV. 
 FLIGHT 
 
 COME/' said the rock, ^'and watch 
 the flight of things/' 
 
 So, all the summer's day, I watched the 
 world 
 
 From an Unseen Pursuer flee away : 
 
 The tide that sought the shore, that fled 
 the shore; 
 
 The keening sea-gulls flying to the south, 
 
 Circling the harbor to the north again; 
 
 The clouds that scattered, faded, dis- 
 appeared, 
 
 Swept by the winds, themselves an un- 
 known will; 
 
 The ceaseless moments one by one that 
 passed ; 
 
 The sun, the shadow, without resting- 
 place; — 
 
 Even as I watched the miracle of change 
 
 'Twas I that changed, and self that fled 
 away. 
 
 106 
 
cv. 
 
 LIGHT-HEART, how well do I remem- 
 ber thee ! 
 So little didst thou know, so wise thou 
 
 wert I 
 For thee the universe contained no hurt, 
 Thou child of spring, of dawn, of sunny 
 
 skies ! 
 To darkness and to evil thou didst sleep ; 
 That others wept, that thou thyself might 'st 
 
 weep — 
 Unreal as the rain before the day 
 In April, or December yet to be ! 
 Light-heart, how didst thou waken? I 
 
 forget. 
 Didst see that other eyes with tears were 
 
 wet? 
 Didst question what the meaning of the 
 
 woe 
 That kindred hearts, but thine not yet, 
 
 must know? 
 What shape had dread? And how, at 
 
 length, did fear 
 To thee draw near? 
 
 107 
 
O Light-heart, Light-heart, Hght-heart 
 
 nevermore, 
 Who art thou to be merely heavenly- wise ? 
 Companioned on the long and shadowed 
 
 way, 
 There is a multitude that goes before. 
 
 108 
 
CVI. 
 
 COLD keen wind from the northwest 
 blowing, 
 Firm against my forehead, smoothing back 
 
 my hair, 
 Like a firm hand pressing with a strength 
 
 unwounding 
 The impatient body stayed by power of 
 the air; 
 
 Lonely I grow for sight of homing ships at 
 
 sunset, 
 For harbor, and for beacon lighted under 
 
 darkening sky; 
 Northwest wind blowdng over troubled 
 
 water, 
 Keen as memory thou art, and sad am L 
 
 109 
 
evil. 
 
 SUNLIGHT IN THE ROOM 
 
 SECRET and still, along the wall and 
 floor 
 Insistent, unreplying sunlight lies. 
 Shadow has form, but, terrible and white, 
 No shape or sound has Light, 
 Only the open door, through which there 
 
 pour 
 Radiant mysteries . 
 
 110 
 
CVIII. 
 
 THE WITNESSES 
 
 WHO speak no word, 
 Who summon not by gesture or by- 
 touch, 
 Who stay not eager hands or straying feet, 
 Who hinder not the deed that is our will ; 
 Who wait, who watch; 
 Who pause with us at parting of the ways, 
 Who take with us whichever road we 
 
 choose, 
 Who go with us as love goes to the end. 
 
 Ill 
 
CIX. 
 
 SONGS at the spring 
 When the year is new, 
 And at harvesting 
 
 While there's work to do. 
 
 When joy is past, 
 And labor through, 
 
 Silence at last 
 For me, for you. 
 
 112 
 
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