POEMS. BEN FIELD Book •J_?^_ CopyrightN^ L^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. POEMS And Poems of California and the West By .'^.v.A.'^A4t//./v\.. BEN FIELD ^ARTIetVeRnVKTIJ I BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER The Gorham Press,, ,, 5 ^ , Copyright 1903 by Ben Field. All Rights Reserved i LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Received APR 19 1904 Copyrig-ht Entry CLASS It XXc. No. COPY B .x^ ; Frkt>t»»dat The Gcrkau Paess <■ I Boston, \U, S. A. ERRATA IN THE CONTENTS My Nurse should be MY MUSE. Rendine should be UNDINE. The Minstrel Put The Viol Down should be THEN MINSTREL PUT THE VIOL DOWN. Page I I , in note to The Rocks of Ramirez^ the last word (^ruz) should be (^rez). Page 26, in The Atheism Of The Man in eleventh line asperations should be aspirations. In fifteenth line Saharah should be Sahara, and in eighteenth line dost should be doth. Page 33, in Beauty And Love, in second line Nor should be Not^ Page 50, in The Pathos Of The Ages, thirteenth line the word stand should be stands. P^ge 56, in Womaff s Love, last verse on page, first line, eye should be aye. Page 67, in The Ocean Burial, in second verse, second line, the word at is omitted after word lie. Also in fi^urth verse, fourth line, word here should be her . Page 85, in A History Of Arizona, fourth verse, fourth line always should be alway. The Banyan Tree is reprinted through the kind permission of The Overland Monthly, . •. CONTENTS The Sign of the Ultimate 9 The Soul's Defiance 9 Poetry 10 The Rocks of Ramirez. 11 The Dragon 12 Liberty 13 O Speak to Me 14 Music 15 We Suffer Not Alone 16 The Slave 17 My Nurse 18 Ocean 20 The Rhythm of Life 21 The Prayer of Gloom 22 Beautiful Hills 23 America and Immortality 24 The Atheism of the Man 26 Sappho, Alone 2^ Things in Heaven and Earth 28 Good-By 29 O Say, Little Boy 30 Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread 30 5 CONTENTS A Singer of Songs 31 Rendine 32 Beauty and Love 33 He Plays on Heart of Hers 33 Longings She Left Behind 34 A Bunch of Roses 35 Rome, America — The Difference 35 Gardens of Silence 37 Lights of the City '38 My Love, The Wind 39 One From Millions 40 The Garden of the World 41 A Fragment 42 My One Sweet Thought 42 One Heart 43 My Dead Love 44 The Bright Side 45 O Kiss Me 45 Quiet Dreams 47 South — North 51 The Swing of the Pendulum 51 The Three Desires 52 6 CONTENTS The Minstrel put the Viol Down 53 Wraiths . 54 Woman's Love 55 The Envied Rose 57 The Sorceress 57 Blood 58 Till Then and Yet Until 59 Communion 59 That Which I Scorned 60 Worship — ^A Wraith 61 The Mystic Secret 62 Fame and Love 62 Christ Before Pilate 64 Punishment 64 A Night with Fate 64 What's to Do 66 The Ocean Burial 67 Sweetheart 68 Human Waters 68 The Heart that Throbs Intense 70 Woman's Eyes 70 Unfathomable 71 7 CONTENTS Impatience for Fame 71 POEMS OF CALIFORNIA AND THE WEST A Sign 73 A City of California 75 The Spirit of Los Angeles 76 Hail to the Chief 'J'J Junipero Serra 78 The Eighth Wonder 79 On Raymond Hill. 80 A Dream Prophecy 81 Catalina 82 The Banyan Tree at Avalon 83 A History of Arizona 84 The Song of the Siren of Rio Colorado 85 8 THE SIGN OF THE ULTIMATE I stood on an island sea beach, No other soul was there Save the soul of the island, sleeping, And the soul of God in the air. The beach was long and lonely And my soul was lonely too: No being gave me greeting, But above the sea-birds flew. Full well I knew the sea of Life, ' Full long I'd searched its deeps. But now, behold, oncoming, A wave that landward sweeps. I saw with eyes far seeing. And knew with thought profound : I heard the rush of Being In that tumultuous sound. Power spoke with accent certain, Force lived in that wild roar. An aeon raised its curtain — A billow crashed ashore. THE SOUL'S DEFIANCE Take if Thou wilt my every hope away! Crush down the longings of my youth, Make dark the glorious spring-like day, Forbid the mind that seeketh Truth. Strong One, whoever Thou mayst be! On me cast Thou the evil of Thine eye, Take strength and love and power to see, Thy direst deeds still I defy. While life doth last, and heart doth beat however faint, I'll lift my soul to realms of beauty fair And, though Thy breath doth scorch and taint, ril laugh and love and revel there. POETRY Thou art the deep and mystic sea That laps against the hurrying feet Of men and calms their idle fears. And every being bends the knee Upon thy strand, for life is sweet Where blows the wind from unknown spheres. No more can man in Science trust Than in the work that thou hast done, Nor yet so much, for thou art Life. Thou art the glitter, through the rust, That shines as through the clouds the sun — Thou art the motive of the strife. The poet is the man that sings. That plays upon the harp's wild strings. That reads the tale of starry skies. That soars aloft on seraph's wings, That, from the stone, the statue brings. That sees the depths in woman's eyes. The poet is the man whose brush Can paint with words, that flush To cheek doth bring, lO Whose canvas is the human heart — He makes the whole world sing. Poetry is Life's wild song, The voice of right, the cry of wrong. The sign of fairer days. THE ROCKS OF RAMIREZ Long years ago, with childish eyes, I gazed upon a mountain, grand, That reached its hoary height -Up, up into the azure skies. I wondered then, in childish spell. How many years were passed and gone Since first that mountain rose, Or first the waters from it fell And left it there, in grim repose. In later days, a boy, I roved the seas And once away to southward sailed And, rounding wild Cape Horn, I saw the rocks of Ramirez That jut, an island, through the blue And billowy waves. Defying all the ships that sail, — Diego Ramirez, but you. And sky and water and the south wind's wail! Note. — The author, when a boy, sailed around Cape Horn on an English merchantman bound from San Pedro, California, to Queen^town, and he uses the word Ramirez as the sailors pro- nounced it, — accent on the last syallable (ruz). II Against thy rocky crags the billows dashed, The white spray stung thy cliffs, The sea birds circled round thy shores, With sullen roars the ocean crashed. I see it still, the salt sea foam. Climb up thy sides to fall! We passed the rocks of Ramirez And set our sails for home, But memory yet is on the seas. THE DRAGON Gods and Devils all my heroes. Hell and Heaven each my tryst. With my claws upon the pulsing. Great and brawny wrist Of Earth, Mirth! To know her fears, To see her tears, To feel her quaking. To force her waking; When Ignorance, my son, Stalks through the land And Fear, my fair one. Holds by either hand! 1 am the Dragon who sits on high. Behind a thunder cloud. I send far off and beckon nigh And wrap the world in gloomy shroud. 12 I clutch with vicious claws — O glee! I am the Dragon of earth and sea! When cities burn and ships go down, Ho I there am I in hellish, gown. I put a finger to my mouth And whistle, when the earth has drouth. If men. will fight. For wrong or right, It matters not which it may be, I clap them on to kill or flee. I send the missionaries out The foreign wars to bring about : Hell is my seething caldron-pot And misery my garden plot. I am the Dragon! Ho ! ho, old world ! Wag on, content am I. LIBERTY Fair Liberty thou art a goddess bright! And strange are the deeds that we do for thee And the ways of the world that make men free Are as fair as the day and black as night. In the name of a God fanatics fight — As the spirits of darkness cowards flee, Till War has wrecked like a storm on the sea And the wrong has given place to the right; But Liberty fair thou soarest on high — Yet higher still as the centuries roll And the voice of tyrants is fain to cry That the Truth is emblazoned on thy scroll. While the angel of wisdom draweth nigh Come the nations of earth to Freedom's goal. 13 O SPEAK TO ME. I love the hills my Saviour trod, The vales where he communed with God, Here Glamour all her flowers has strown, I love this land — his very own. As Thou didst speak at Pentecost, O Jesus speak to me, or chide. But speak while walking at my side; Speak, speak to me! As Thou didst speak at Galilee, To men of old, speak now to me; As spake Thy passion at Gethsemane, Speak Thou to me! It cannot be that Thou art lost. Thy Father's house is not so far. Thy promises still with me are And Time, was only younger, when. My Saviour, Thou wert here with men. And Space, 'tis just as wide as then; Thou mayest surely come again. Speak, speak to me! O Love of mine transmute, This love I bear for earth. And give it heavenly birth I Hang Thou about it now, A halo from Thy brow, O speak tO' me ! Make sacred my desire! And set my soul afire. With love of Thee. 14 Bend down Thy Kingly head That impress of the thorns I see, And speak to me ! Reach out Thy hands that bleed, For Thee I sorely need, O speak to me! Jesus, my Saviour, mine! Speak Thou to-night, Illumine with Thy light. My Hope! my Love! my God! Hear Thou my vow, O let me now Thy vision see. Speak — speak to me! MUSIC Music! Unveiled hast thou another sphere; And over seas of azure clear. On wings now slow, now fleet. Thou comest. Ah! my heart doth beat To rhythmic sounds unknown before. My feet press hard upon the shore Of wide and silvery sea. Across whose waves thou callest me. Thy murmur sweet falls on mine ear, And then with notes that ever rise. Thy thundering tones assail the skies And, sinking once again all low, Thy martial strain grows soft and slow. I feel its meaning, almost seize. And then implore on bended knees That thou wilt make thy raptures clear. That thou wilt bring thy sirens near. 15 But as I grasp at joys unknown, New beauties flash — the others flown. Faster they come! I hold my breath, Lest silvery sounds, so sweet, mean death. This, Music, is thy shining sea. Whose gentle waves roll in to me With sounds too sweet for mortal ear. With notes too dear for man to hear. Upon this shore of thine I stand And, longing, look for unseen strand Whose verge is fair and far away, Unfathomed save by passion's ray. Away! I'll leave the world behind And launch my bark, that shore to find! WE SUFFER NOT ALONE Dislodged by graceful deer, A sharp and flinty rock Leapt down the mountain side, And by its own wild force fell clear To smiling valley, with a shock So great that rugged bark Of oak was clave apart, And there it sunk Into a giant trunk. While startled bird and beast Resumed their wonted loves, And hum of bees was heard. And coo of doves. But time passed on — Weary and sore. With cruel love harrassed, I sought sweet nature's solitude i6 In smiling valley, o'er Which hung wild height, sublime With jagged crags. A gnarled oak with twisted arms And half dead leaves, stood In my path and in its trunk I saw a sunken rock. O'er and about the flinty stone The living fiber grew, While still that oaken heart Was pierced. Alone The grand old monarch stood Amongst its fellows, firm, Who never knew its bitter grief. As time dragged on. THE SLAVE Daughter of brawn, with weary face, Rough cap in the arching stone. The home she holds in its proper place. Sad slave of sinew and bone. Never did nerves know how to strain Till toil to babes gave birth, Till rounded breasts were racked with pain And youth was bent to earth. Daughter of brawn, with callous hands, She knows no happy hour. The weary years, with running sands, Drag out her bridal dower. Grind on, O slave of the sunken! While the rich are hot with wine : The sons of men are drunken — God's justice is divine. 17 MY MUSE My Muse, O rest awhile! My head and heart beguile. Stop here thy pace, Show me thy face, For soul of mine is sad And love of mine is sore. Make me with passion glad And thrill me more and more! My Muse, give me thine arms And, on thy heaving breast, Let head of mine find rest. Close to thy bosom warm. Let heart of mine alarn* My other self. With beating! With throbbing! With such a passion's swirl. That brain, in giddy whirl Shall drunken be, And I, forget! Ha, ha ! rouse up, O sluggish soul ! Thinkst thou a Muse may tarry. Thine arms to feel, thy kisses hot To pay, thy passion long to parry? I wave my hand to thee ! come on ! Forget not fame all fair! Rouse up and strive beloved one. Rouse up to do and dare! Ho! great am I! Fame from on high Descends to wait on me. 18 All people sing my praise, A pean, through the days. I grasp the hidden key, Of Life's one mystery! I touch the chords divine! The music! it is mine! What, kneeling one! Who, who art thbu? My Muse? Ah yes, Why camest here? My race is run And on my brow, All fair to see. Are fame's immortal flowers ! These, these I give to thee! Alas, they fall! They crumble! Muse, return And Hght the fire, In blackened urn. O Muse, fair Muse! My gems are pebbles all, My sweets are gall. Do not refuse. Come back to me ! Thine arms are dearer far Than garlands fair of fame. That burned with bursting flame. O let me lie with thee And clasp thee in my arms. O give my passion free Delight to have its full! Thou art my queen. Far more tO' me than fame! My eyes have seen IQ The depths of smold'ring flame In thine. Forgive me, Muse! Thine arms, Thy breasts, I will not lose. Thy limbs all bare, Thy perfumed hair, Are more to me Than God, Or hope of Heaven ! As bee the honey sips, Kiss, kiss my longing lips. I know not dread nor fright, Hold, hold me tight! I die! but Muse, In thy embrace, 'Tis sweet with thee tO' face The mask of death ! Breathe out thy breath again, Close, close to me, and then Thyself in passion's ecstasy Refuse me not, O Muse, my Muse. OCEAN Ocean, pray, how deep are you? Ocean wide, how old? Could I but wander, wander through Your blue depths, silent — cold! Old Ocean, your sheer, satin gown. Is g^ood and fair to see : 20 Those that with battered wrecks go down, In it shall folded be. Then give me, Ocean, restless strength To travel o'er you far, To know your reach and sinuous length, Till towering" mountains bar. THE RHYTHM OF LIFE Mute and unshaped, in marble hills, Are untouched Mercurys lying, Fairer of form, with power more rife Than gladiators dying. Has sculptor cut a Venus face, Or shaped a warrior's bust? The dream undreamed is fairer yet Than these, that turn to dust. The touch, that makes a canvas live, Was taught by hands unseen, Yet fairer gifts are there to give And fairer flowers to glean. Back of the hand, that holds the brush. Is the dream of a godlike mind. But the graceful flight of the soul of Art, Is swift as the stormy wind. The song of the singer is not so sweet As the song that was never sung. So the words we hold, with the heart's quick beat. To the winds are never flung. 21 The story of Love is told to men In rhythmic words aflame, A deeper tale is left untold, Too fair for man to name. Back of the dream, of the painter. Back of the sculptor's ideal, Far, where the song sounds fainter. Where the soul is strong and leal. Up, where the air is ether, Keen as the edge of a knife, Down, in the depths of Nature, Flows ever the Rhythm of Life. THE PRAYER OF GLOOM Aimlessly wandering at dawn of day. Unknowing I went from the beaten way, Where men go to and fro, Till halting at last at a lonely spot. Away from my God and by men forgot. My head I bended low. I was young, but the years oppressed, I was weary, my woe confessed; Nature was blank, and Love was a lie, I sank on the earth and the welcome tears Refused to come, nor devilish fears To rouse me more as the time went by. How long I may not tell Mine eyes stared into Hell When onward came a cloud My ghastly gaze to shade. Came dark and dripping to my aid And threatened me, as if a shroud. 22 I prayed this hovering Gloom to lower And cover me with grave clothes o'er; Mine arms stretched I aloft, As came the stormy wraith Drawn by niy mighty faith, And spilled its rain-drops soft. Then raged the gale, On frail earth, — irail; In awe I held my breath. Bent were the trees, Blown to their knees They menaced me with death. BEAUTIFUL HILLS Bathed in the blue of creation, Hushed by the hand that is strong, Prone on the breast of the mother, Aglow with her light and her song — Thy beauty is soft Hke the ocean. Thy charm is sucked from the earth. When islands were rocked and cradled The mother gave thee in birth. Babe of quiet contentment. Child of the peace that fills. Offspring born of loving — Beautiful, mystic hills. 2> AMERICA AND IMMORTALITY America! How many years hast lived? A century's span and more! Ha, ha! A swallow builds its home within a cave And, pecking in the sturdy tree, A bird doth make its nest — And both may last as long. What hast thou done To stamp upon the face of time An impress of thy being? Liberty ! Washington ! Ho, ho! Rome had her generals And aspirations too And where are they? The faith of Christ Within thy borders nourished! There are a thousand others — Thy sons have died- — Their deeds once done Are passed and silent— E'en printed books must mould and rot; But thou, America! What hast thou done That thou canst think to last? That men through thee Have learned to live as men And not as beasts? What matters how men live Since, dying, they are through ? Immortal, sayest thou? 24 We ask for proof! What man that died E'er came again to tell us Of his going? What soul once sunk In death's oblivion E'er sent a message back? Be still ye little ones Who tell us fairy tales That we have heard before! We ask for proof — One jot or tittle that is true! Egypt built her pyramids — We know she did! A people put them there — And ancient kings Reared temples That a million suns Have shone upon — But thou, America! Where is thy monument Dedicated to the onward roll And strewn about with bones ? Go then and on thy desert plains Erect a mound! Let thousands die If need be — that it may grow! And in its center Construct a room Built firm with parian slabs And blocks of flint And on an ivory throne With crystal pillars guarded Place there a golden scroll Held open by a hand — 25 And in this scroll Set diamonds That shall spell In Saxon words — America did this thing — And when 'tis done No surer proof there'll be Of dreamy Immortality. THE ATHEISM OF THE MAN. Ye paltry being that dost boast The knowledge of a god — The wisdom of the ages — Do thou one starlit night But raise from lowly sod Thine eyes and gaze where stars, Innumerable and bright, Shine on the puny deeds of men. O be thou of earth's sages! It matters not. Thy deeds, thy asperations. Thy wild ambition, and delight In what it seems thou hast achieved Are but a grain of sand Blown on the wide Saharah. O self- wise scholar! In whose hand the key Of learning dost but lightly rest, Seal up thy foolish lips And bind the wordy sheaf. Thou hast, in wanton heart. Made bold to say "There is no God!" Look on the budding rose! 26 Behold the blade of grass! See thou the coming day, Bright shod With glory ! and the night Like gentle mass For souls that pass away! Lift up thine eyes with humble faith And know That thou art let to be Is proof of immortality ! SAPPHO, ALONE. Sappho! sleeping still alone! The moon and Pleiades have set. Full half the lovely night has flown And thou! and thou all passionate! The time is passing, fair one, now Upon thy sweetly swelling breast And on thy Grecian Goddess brow, Should Phaon's head and kisses rest. Sappho! sleeping still alone? O wanton sweet, unknown to shame! From, Rapture's arms thy lover flown, Shall live his flight to sorely blame. ARRAIGNMENT AND ANSWER. Why give me a soul to suffer. Why a heart but to hurt? Is the glitter of life worth grasping, The gold to dig from the dirt? 27 God! why do I love so keenly? Did you place me here for a jest? Can I never break down the barriers 'Twixt me and all that is best? Did I ask to be born to loving, To loving forever alone? Then pardon my foolish rashness And change me into a stone! O God forgive my rebellion Or yet it is quite too late! And God tO' my soul said softly — ''Comes all to him that can wait." THINGS IN HEAVEN AND EARTH. O, the sweet scent of grasses, The odor of violets And new-mown hay, Wihen love, unfathomed, passes In garments airy, An unseen fairy, Close to your wandering way. O, the choruses of morning, The last damp mists of night, The hour of mystic seeing When day is just adorning. With rosy beams of light, Her awakened charms of night That stir her lover's being. O, the foaming breast of billows, O, the soughing of the pine 28 And the lonely desert's breath And the arm from out the willows. O, the mystery of life And the endlessness of strife And the going down to death. GOOD-BY Good-by! we lightly say it o'er, And when the friend has gone And we have sihut the narrow door, Joy too is then withdrawn. Alas ! and did we know The turning of a street Would bring us endless woe, That ne'er again his feet Would tread within our hall, Think you Convention's claim Would put on Love a pall And let him go, — the same? Good-by! O, why did love of mine Not brush aside its fear, And arms of mine entwine — entwine His neck, in rapture dear? Good-by! he thinks I love him not; He's far away, amongst the years, While life to me is ever fraught With pain and bitter tears. ^ O SAY, LITTLE BOYl I'll sail away to lullaby land Where my little boy goes when asleep, Where the cockle shells roll on the yellow sand And the water is only knee deep. And along the shore of that shining strand We'll meet 'neath starry domes And you and I with hand in hand Shall visit the little homes Of the pretty people of poppy land. Who receive on drowsy day, And the little brown maids with a brownie band Shall sing in a wonderful way And the trooping fairies from the hills will come As the mermaids comb their hair. While you and I with the elfins roam Each star has a golden stair Stretching away o'er the waters deep And rising into the night Where the angels play, and will not sleep. Bo-peep till morning light. O say, little boy, will you meet me there Beneath the gloaming skies And with me climb the starry stair Up, up to Paradise? GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD "Give us this day our daily bread" Lisp babes in a lullaby And the little ones whose prayers are said Asleep on their pillows lie. 3q 'Tis well — but the years that come Dispel the lessons taught And tender hearts grow cold and numb While bread is sold and bought. "Give me to eat!" the beggar cries "Fm hungry and I die !" And Christ looks out from Paradise And sees the rich go by. A SINGER OF SONGS She stands before her shrine, All lovely and all fair And laurel leaves entwine Her golden crown of hair. She stands at music's fount, Apollo's devotee. The fabled swan to mount, She stoops with bended knee. Yet, till with Paean far she flies, I watch and never tire Of glorious songs and glorious eyes Aglow with, deathless fire. But sweet and fairest friend. With song, before thy shrine. Love's worship is my end; Your harp this heart of mine. 31 UNDINE A youth upon a lonely sea beach lay And dreamed and woke and dreamed again of Love; Awake at last, — it was the close of day And one was watching him from rocks above. She was a nymph, of beauty wild and fair, And eyes of brown spoke longing none may tell; Old ocean's water dripped from golden hair. And sea weed from her graceful shoulders fell. Naked, Undine held the sea weed to her breast And wound it with her hair about her arms. And there, upon the golden sands — her love con- fessed — She won the dreaming youth with rosy charms. The last red gleams of sun flashed fiery, rare, The youth vowed love and worship of a slave, Then Undine led the way, with flowing hair. To bridal bed in rocky cave. Nor would she go with him until that time, When earth and air and sea were mild. When every heart beat soft with song and rhyme She held within her arms a little child. Then Undine's bosom thrilled with heaven's joy, Her virgin dreams had borne her to the goal, For as she pressed to rounded breast her boy. She knew that hove had given her a Soul. 3* BEAUTY AND LOVE Straight is the line of beauty, Nor curved as often said: Look far away o'er ocean, Across the briny bed. Straight is the long horizon, Straight as the line of duty; Though heaven is arched above us Straight is the line of beauty. Old ocean's bed is bended, Old ocean's surface too, But beauty is not ended When curved away from you. Straight is the line of beauty! When love has made retreat The heart has one sweet duty, Straight to the maiden's feet. HE PLAYS ON HEART OF HERS He plays on heart of hers. As fingering o'er the keys, Music obeys his touch. In her sad face one sees The soul in passionate clutch Of love. He plays on heart of hers. But his wild love has flown To other skies; For other eyes 33 He longs, And songs Of his are sung full fair, For one that is not with him there. O pity! that these loves, like souls. Must stray and miss their goals. These loves that banish hovering night And bring to us untold delight. Yet whensoever a heart doth love, Somewhere, however late, In garden or in greenwood grove, The mourning dove Will find its mate. LONGINGS SHE LEFT BEHIND Sweetheart, you have gone to make a name. Fame's castle you have almost built. But know, sweetheart, time runs the same And castles are covered with gilt. Do you think your castle so fair may rise That Time, on bended knee, Shall show to all mens' wondering eyes Your name, my Gertie Lee? Do you think the lamps that cheer the night, Close down to the door of death. Are filled with sparks of fame all bright Or are they filled with breath? Breath and soul and baby life, Small hands that clasp the knee. Fairest flowers of fame or wife O gentle Gertie Lee! 34 Sweetheart, I long for your love alway — To share in your love and life^ — I long for your arms, your eyes each day, Sweetheart — my darling — my wife! But if Castle of Fame shines all too fair And it may never be You will find me waiting for you, close there By the gates, O Gertie Lee. A BUNCH OF ROSES Thy birthday, sweetheart. Is my birthday too * For love makes my heart beat When thoughts are of you And the love that I offer The queen of my soul Was born on thy birthday. Has thee for its goal. I wish thee, my sweetheart, A happy birthday And I send thee this token In sweet old-time way. ROME, AMERICA— THE DIFFERENCE A Tribute to President McKinley, May, ipoi. The Caesar, drunk with wine And satiate with pleasure, Had thought of going forth Throughout his kingly realm. But feared the populace. Then called he unto him his lords And bade his generals pay attention — "Arrest whom ye may at night 35 Within the streets of Rome And hang them on the morrow As a warning- to the people, For I, the Emperor, will go abroad. Let the Pretorian Guards be doubled To wait upon my presence Both night and day. Send noble couriers forth To distant portions of the Empire, With sword and honeyed words, To raise a tribute for our pleasure, Then gather all that's good and fair From out our vast domain And give it place within my train — My jewels and my statuary, My works of art and birds and beasts, And those that sing and play and dance, Provided that they shall not vie with Nero. And look you (privately) — Send our commands to Antium, To Naples and through Greece, That wheresoever Nero plays upon the lute And sings his own immortal songs Men shall be hired or forced to give applause. And list you now — Bring from her vestal shrine The fairest virgin that doth serve the God, To wait upon my chamber And ease my troubled sleep." Thus spake the Emperor Nero And they that heard cried out in fear : — "Caesar can do no wrong — Long live divinest Caesar!" And in those days Rome burned At his command; And Caesar looked — and played upon his lute. 36 The President, at his desk, Gave heart and brain To the welfare of his country. Great deeds of state were his And words that swayed the nations. Men's Hves to him were sacred, And property was second unto Hfe. Out from the farthest reaches of America There came the call of loyal sons To see their Chiefest Chief, And he was prayed to go abroad. New England sent him her petition, And far to the South the loyal land Made ready for his welcome. California flashed down the golden beams Of the star of empire That hangs above her fairness, A message to him full of love. And from the islands of the sea There came the call of new-born citizens. 'Twas said of ancient time "To be a Roman was greater than to be a King,' But we that live to-day Rest long our eyes upon the land Where Freedom dwells. And whisper — "God bless our noble President!" GARDENS OF SILENCE Shaded with cypress where the virgins lie Strewn with flowers all the dead. Weeping and sighing as the years go by, The clouds and trees overhead. 37 Fair Gardens of Silence throughout the land- Cities of dead that are dear, Marble and granite near at hand, Lilies to cover up fear. Close to the school and church and home Not far from the pulse of trade Are the silent gardens where mourners roam In the gloomy cypress shade. Wheresoever villages dot the earth Or smoke curls into the air Or little children laugh with mirth, The Gardens of Silence are there. LIGHTS OF THE CITY O, the lights of the throbbing city That gleam o'er her pulsing ways ! Like the stars in the distant heavens That glitter between the days. Do you know of the terrible distance Between your childrens' hearts? Do you dream of the bitter struggle. Each night in the city's marts? The stars in the arching heavens Can tell of nature's strife — They see the awful discords And behold the heavenly life; But you, O lights of the city. Is your gleam never shadowed by sin ? Is your glow but a semblance of pity To be hid in the crush and the din ? 38 Do you know the hunger and sorrow That pierce and stab Hke a knife? You brighten but ever the morrow Brings ebbing to many a Hfe. O lights of the groaning city! You see Life's tragic side, — You shine on the gay and the witty And the hell that never will hide. O the glow that you throw about passion ! O the gleam that you shed on the fair! the glare that you lend to gay fashion And the guilt that you find ever there ! Shine on, O lights of the city! You respect not actions of men, For to you a drunken ditty Comes close on a solemn amen. You know not the barter of virtue, You heed not the passion or prayer, Your rays shine brightly and ever On the guilty, the gay and the fair. But to-night as I look o'er the city, On her lights as thick as the stars, 1 wonder if eyes are about us As glowing and mystic as Mars, — I wonder if spirit lights glitter With feelings divergent as men, I wonder if Easy and Bitter Are weighed in the balance and when. ?^9 MY LOVE, THE WIND Blow, wild wind, over desert waste, Blow here upon my heart! I raise my arms with passion's haste And love thee as thou art. Wind of the desert, wind of the sea, Whose fury stilleth men, Thou blowest hell fires out for me To make me strong again. O wind of heaven, wind of earth, Thou bold, brave mystery! Thou lovest man from death to birth Throughout life's history. Then here's to thee beloved wind. My friend, my soul, my brother! If nothing else in life I find. We'll love for aye each other. ONE FROM MILLIONS It matters not what things you do, It matters not what leave undone. The world has little need of you To carry out the work begun. Think not your place none else mayfill, Think not your deeds are of account. Do naught at all or do but ill. Your life to nothing shall amount. 40 Like ants you swarm o'er little place, Like sands your bones lie everywhere; And whether slow or swift the race, The Gods shall neither know nor care. But sometimes in the swing through space, An arm is raised in might, A giant soul illumes a face And dawn dispels the night. A Christ walks through the groaning land, A Shakespeare writes unseen. Napoleon gives a stern command, — -But ages run between. Then would you live, and not exist, Strike! strike! immortal, rouse! Peer out from pall of blinding mist, — - A coward he, that bows ! THE GARDEN OF THE WORLD The garden of the world is fair And, sheltered by some mossy wall, Where never blows the winter storms, I rest and watch the graceful forms Of maidens, wandering where the wild birds call. These seem to be the fairest forms create. Their arms are bare and laughing eyes Look into mine, and cheeks aglow With throbbing blood, all let me know That I have found earth's paradise. Why should I further search Throughout the- garden ot the earth? 4j. Why wander on where death and pain Silence with grief the joyous strain And cover up the coffined mirth? A stranger, I am satisfied With songs of birds and gardens green, With arching blue of summer skies. And smiling blue of woman's eyes, Which hint of happiness unseen. A FRAGMENT Ah Gods! I wake with sighs, — Like Sappho's cries when Phaon flies. Her snowy arms and beating heart are dreams, And yet, — in ages gone, the gleams From her dark eyes I knew, it seems. MY ONE SWEET THOUGHT My one sweet thought ! I hold it never Far away from my embrace And dwell upon it whensoever Would I harsh pain efface. It comes to me in dark despair. When hard earned gains are quickly lost : It comes when I may never dare To count the strife and bitter cost. O, sweetest thought! Usurper thou Of soul's dependency above! When thou dost come my head I bow And realize the power of Love. When days are cold and drear with care, Sweetheart, thou comest close to me, My one dear thought is doubly fair While at Love's shrine I worship thee. ONE HEART The world has a billion people, Aye the world has many more, Like sands where the waves are beating. Like sands on the long sea shore. A friend we have in childhood, — We meet and play and part. Like chips on the waters drifting With neither love nor heart. The world is wide yet very small, — The world is small, yet O how wide! And while we taste the sweet and gall We drift like chips upon the tide. The world has a billion people And hearts are fain to roam 'Till the thought comes o'er us, stealing. There's never a place like home. The world has a billion people! The race will soon be run! Of the hearts of the bilHon people Love one, love only one! 43 MY DEAD LOVE I watch the crescent moon CHmb up the arching sky. The river bank is strewn With reeds and grasses high. I He amongst the trees, As cHmbs the crescent moon, And there I feel the breeze From off the fair lagoon. And as she soars on golden wings, A virgin not yet grown, The insects hum, the river sings, And I am not alone. Ah, not alone! For, at this mystic hour, My lost one, hither flown. Comes to our moonlit bower, Where oft before, beneath the boughs, I felt her beating heart. She comes again to hear my vows — She comes, but only part Is here. The silvery beams Of light shine through her form. The eyes that once with gleams Of love were full, now storm My soul with sadness. I clasp her in my arms And yet she is not there. My brain is near to madness, I touch her flowing hair, 44 And with the old smile on her lips, From out my arms she gently slips, And when I hear the river's moan, Upon the ground I lie alone. THE BRIGHT SIDE She swings with song and laughs with love, This ancient world of ours — She sorrows long and lifts above Her eyes to hidden powers. Then let the martyr bare his head. The sanctified sing psalms — ril search amongst a flowery bed And roses give for alms. It may be true that Sorrow's hand With weight on some is laid, But why see gloom and running sand Because a rose will fade? Then let sweet youth be gaily gowned. We'll dance and not alone — We'll fill the air with laughter's sound While roses red are strown. O KISS ME Give me one warm kiss ! I ask no more. I know you love me not. But give me this And I will hold it, dear, — A thousand years in store. 45 Force me not there Alone, till you have kissed my longing lips As you have done before, When you and I, on Grecian Isles, Once dwelt and youth was fair — Kiss me again, ere life is o'er! The sweetness of the kisses I have dreamed Of giving you ! The rapture of the torture When it seemed As if you knew! Sweet is first love. Sweeter than breath, Too dear for life. Sweet unto deathi — Thus was it that I died And you another's bride. How many times around Must turn the wheel Of birth and death, Till you will love? Till you will feel Your lover's breath — His kisses? O give me what I ask. One wild, sweet kiss To last a thousand years. That I may bask In this blest thought Till you shall love! O kiss me now ! ^ .46 QUIET DREAMS And sometimes in my quiet dreams The years roll back apace, I see as oft I used to see A fair, sweet, girlish face — A face to me so dear in past, Upon this lovelit day I think to find again at last And hold in sight alway. THE PATHOS OF THE AGES A particle of spirit pure Dressed in garb of flesh and bone Drawn to earth where sirens lure, Battling blindly for its own, — O, the pathos of the coming O'er the road trod oft before! O, the breasting of the breakers Beating on life's rugged shore! Pity shines in angel faces, Guardian angels asking trust. Tears have left their hallowed traces In their faces and the dust. Spirit struggling with brute forces Striving bravely with fierce lust — O, the pathos of the ages Seen in wages ever just! Silence sullen, forehead slanting, Sensual longings, centuries through,- Like a beast with passion panting Strives the newborn for the dew 47 Glistening ever in its forming On the spirit heights ahead, On the battlements he's storming, On the rocks where men have bled. Striving ever, groping blindly. Knowing not the life he wants. Thinking that the dewy twinkling Is a guide to sirens' haunts, — Scoffed at, laughed at by his fair ones. Fool and knave in him shall blend, He it is that, full of folly, runs For rainbow's golden end. O, the pity of the struggling Through the years, all blindly here! Grasping at the straws he's passing. Drawing nigh to death with fear. Lifting loads through lengthy years. Carrying cares with furrowed face. Beaten back while blinding tears Force him under in the race. Death again comes all too quickly, — How he clings to cruel life! Lying there so wan and sickly. Robbed his days of pleasures rife. Death and birth play on forever Back and forth with souls of men. Straining each upon life's lever. Bringing rest then strife again. D, the pathos of the a^es Ushered in with blood or rhyme! Swinging on while battle rages, Smiling on through endless time. 48 Born again for sad undoing, Learning lessons o'er and o'er, From a different angle viewing, Scaling heights oft scaled before. Now he hears the songs of angels, Sees the soul in other eyes, — O, the pathos of his longing As his spirit fain would rise! Soaring up to realms of heaven, Leaving dross and lust behind, Cutting loose from earthly leaven, Purified by spirit mind. Life's ambition leaves him never, Stands he now a man set free Knowing things that bind and sever In the troubled, human sea. O, the pity of the knowing! O, the bitter dregs of time! When a soul with spirit glowing Sells itself to sordid crime, Leagues itself with develish doings. Startles men with hidden power. Sullies self with lustful wooings, Sucks the sweetness of the hour. O, the pathos of the falling! O, the depths that souls can go! O, the thoughts forever galling And the hell of bitter woe! Ages pass, pathetic ages, Till that soul attains once more To the vantage ground of victory, To the peaceful, spirit shore. 49 Ages pass, pathetic ages, While the balance weight is fair, — Weary work but welcome wages — Angels singing in the air. Angels singing, guardian angels. Guiding souls the long road o'er. Smiling ever on the striving. Guiding up from out the lower. O, the pathos of the ages Where God only knows the way ! O, the pity that the stages Mark the paths where all souls stray! Now he stand where eyes of mortal May not see his guiding hand, May not see the pearly portal At the gates of spirit land. He has won one fairest garland. He has scaled one height aloft. He is there in spirit starland With the angels' music, soft. Dare one say to all earth's people, Dare one say to you, O friend. That the Heaven's rest you long for Is a struggle without end, — That the City's gates all glowing And the streets of jasper there Are but milestones in the going To another land more fair? O, the pathos of the ages Pictured out in lives of men! O, the onward roll that sages May not bound by *'Now" or "Then"! $0 But the faith we learn from pity, Pity crying in the land, Bringeth souls to Heavenly City In the hollow of God's hand. SOUTH— NORTH Languid lady of the South, Psyche in a sensuous clime, Satiate with kiss of mouth, Weary of love's trysting time. Dreaming through the dolorous day Of snowy lands far, far away — Go thou to a Northern coast. Thy dream shall surely be thy host. THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM Ten thousand years ago There was a day of battle. When women fought as men With swords and spears. That pierced like horns of cattle. Strong, naked women rode Astride fierce chargers — Ten thousand years ago. Long hair from riders streamed And unclothed forms lay dead Beside the way. Fair breasts gave blood instead Of milk, that day And unveiled bosoms gleamed. For woman first was in the fray. 51 The pendulum now far has swung The other way, and great The change in men! While triflers think a steady course Of time doth wait On culture and the rule of pen, That Love hath taken place of Force. THE THREE DESIRES A boy with golden locks and dreamy eyes Filled full the daylight hours — He went in chase of butterflies And birds and rarest flowers. His playmates offered him a share Of berries picked and birds' nests robbed But he returned with tangled hair To mother's arms and sobbed, and sobbed. And as the child dropped off to sleep Upon his little trundle bed He sobbed again in sorrow deep, 'T could not find my flower all red!" A youth of beauty rare, with flashing eyes, Always accompanied pleasure And tried to go where Cupid flies When lilting o'er his measure. He played with Love and passed with Passion Through groves in Grecian isles, — He laughed with Love and silly Fashion And then retraced the weary miles. 52 The mother arms were old and weak But mother heart the same, — The youth returned to comfort seek And sobbing- shook his frame. And as he knelt at close of day With buried face at mother's side He sobbed again in childhood's way "I could not find my dreamland bride!" A man, in ways of men grown old. With poet's brow and earnest eyes. Who knew that flesh is only mold, That spirit soars beyond the skies. Sought day and night throughout the years To solve life's riddle, dark. Read ancient books, gave prayer and tears, On spirit heights to set his mark. But with his last and failing strength He turned his footsteps brave Toward mother's love, O weary length Of road! he found her grave. And as he knelt where flesh is robbed, Where kneel old age and youth, He whispered, as he sobbed and sobbed, *T could not find God's hidden truth!" THEN MINSTREL PUT THE VIOL DOWN Last night we sang the old, sweet songs. Familiar all and dear, And with the words forgot our wrongs, Forgot our pain and fear. 53 For eyes met eyes and voices played On tender chords of love While hearts beat gently and obeyed The rhythm from above. But when the bow stole o'er the strings Of tragic violin The frenzied fears that passion brings Came weirdly stealing in. O minstrel, play no more, — beware! A wraith has seized the bow, A human cry is in the air And well the cry we know. The rise and fall of that wild strain Is soul of love's sad sobs. That subtle note doth wake the pain In human heart which throbs. Then, minstrel, put the viol down — Sing only songs we love. The maidens' songs which bring no frown, Like cooings of a dove. WRAITHS Sweet beings come to me with dawn's dear charms, Fair pictures making. And I would clasp them in my slumb'rous arms, As I am waking. They stay, nor will they go ! Like tale, just read, 54 They rend my heart, while well I know Their forms are dead. The loved ones lost in childhood's days Return from out the grave! My brother speaks, in boyish ways. My mother's smiles I crave, And not in vain. She comes, aglow With loving eyes. And then, with pain, I wake and know That dreams are lies. WOMAN'S LOVE They stood by the gate of the old farm place And the stars shone down on a vow And he kissed her there on her upturned face And he kissed her fair on her brow. The stars shine down forever and aye — They say they are steadfast and true. But he bade her there a long §^ood-by As the stars shone down on the dew. In the city's gleam and the city's glare He found a life that was new And gone was the face so young and fair That he left with the stars and the dew. But the cultured grace of a worldly face He found in the banquet hall A.nd the gleam of an arm from out the lace And the boson's rise and fall. 55= O, where is the man with love so fair? O, where is the man so strong? He kissed her face and he kissed her hair And her love was his for a song; Then a soul was sunk in deep disgrace,—^ 'Twas O, for the love of youth! Twas O, for the gate of the old farm place And the eyes so full of truth ! But the moving finger would not pause Nor half a line erase And the beauty fair beneath the gauze Was gone with a clouded face. They stood by the gate of the long, long way And death held aloof for a space, For she had come at the break of day With the love in her poor, thin face. Her hands were hard and her gown was old, They told her that death was near, But her heart was true and pure as gold And her love knew never a fear, So she pressed her lips to his cold, white brow And his head she held on her breast As she whispered over the old time vow Neath the stars that sank in the west. But death stands ready forever and eye With his scythe and his winding sheet. So she bade him there a long good-by And kissed him fond and sweet. 56 THE ENVIED ROSE She wears a rose just budding now, O rose, that I were thou! Red rose she wears in her wavy hair, O rose, that I were there! She wears a glow on her lovely brow, A glow from a life of truth, And O, that I might wanton tear A kiss from lovely youth! THE SORCERESS She thunders forth the words of law ! In regal gown, bedecked with stones. She dazzles untaught eyes. With queenly grace she stands Without a spot or flaw, Her tragic voice the groans Of men. Her every step defies: Her eyes observe the outstretched hands. Eternity! Eternity! thy angel fair is she! With right arm raised and flashing eyes She speaks for time long past ; With hand across her gleaming brow Her piercing glance can see What future has of truth and lies What things shall die and what shall last And men, agast, behold and bow. 57 BLOOD Before the Gates of Pekin — July- August — i^oo. The days of earth are full of grim portent ! The swaddling clothes of Peace Were changed to whitest fleece, A garment without rent. And Peace herself stood out, In that pure garb of white And brooding wings of War and doubt Withdrew in face of her fair might. Then struck, with clanging sound, The mailed hand of War, And shrieking eagles swooped to ground And scattered swift, and tore The whiite-winged doves of Peace, And smell of blood gave lease To thrust of sword and cannon's roar. The greed of men that made Rome fall, The curse of gold, on high and low. The grasp of might that crushes all And gleans what others bled to sow. Are things that Hell has lent. The Lion, on the Afric plains. Has strode where Freedom dwelled And Britain has increased her gains, While Liberty is felled. America! the arms of millions, Strike in wrath at Thee, While Ignorance shows defiance, Instead of bended knee. 58 America! the proudest name That man has ever penned, Upon Thy Banner never blame Has found a place to sully Fame — Stand clear while nations rend! Blood drips from hoary locks of Strife, Death stalks on land and sea, Grim War has come again to life And Peace is forced to flee. Blood and Battle is the cry! The Battle Kings are drawing nigh! Might and Ignorance thrust and bound! The Gods contend ! and on the ground Where millions swarm, the sound Of blows, the death withstood Give lie to human brotherhood! TILL THEN AND YET UNTIL You do not bid me wait — Then wait I will. You do not bid me love — Then love I still. Until the soul is dead Till then and yet until. COMMUNION In a quiet, desert twilight One lone star came faintly out — Only I was there to see it With the desert vast; about. 459 Then the desert sang her night song As the sea sings far from land And the wind blew over billows, Ever white, of shifting sand. And the spirit of the vastness, Almost human, something more, Spoke to me in gentle murmur Like the waves along the shore. Look above thee in the heavens! Where that one star faintly shone Many more shine round about it — Nothing living lives alone. When in Time's fair early morning, Time that was not nor is yet, Full of sweet and purest longing Brahm a world did first beget, Then it was that starry friendship Came to life for evermore, Brahtn created for communion, Dotted space with planets o'er. THAT WHICH I SCORNED Love came to a boy in a quiet place And changed his life in a day. Pride came to a girl with a lovely face And she journeyed far away. The boy and the girl were playmates long In the village by the sea, Love came to the boy and sang his song And he dreamed of naught but me. .60 And he told me there of lovers sweet dream In the village by the sea, But my heart was full of the glint and gleam Of the life I'd planned for me. Years went by — Fate brought me all And more than I'd asked of life, I tasted the sweet and not the gall — Fate crowned me in the strife. Men asked me for love and swore their faith. Knights on bended knee. But between us oft I saw the wraith Of the love he sang to me. O, dreaming boy that sang love's song In the village by the sea, Where is the heart grown brave and strong That once you offered me? WORSHIP— A WRAITH Up from the strife of a callous world Comes the shout of unbelief. Out from the struggling mass of souls The fret with the common lot. As steals the baseborn thief, The cry that God is not. Hand in hand with the pride of living Goes the blackened form of lust. On with the stride of progress The tiger to leap and tear. And men go down in the dust And cries go up in the air. 6i Wooed by sons of men to-day Is the ghost of a hving faith And wisdom's pearls from the beach of tirne Are poorer than common stones. And worship is but a wraith Who^ rattles her shrunken bones. THE MYSTIC SECRET 'Twas at a ball in winter time, Old earth was white with snow And youth and age and song and rhyme Were there with music low. And I, a youth with throbbing heart, Had come at Love's behest To feel again the pointed dart Hid fair in maiden's breast. And as I stood, all but concealed 'Neath palms from southern skies, I caught that flash and 'twas revealed. The secret, all, in woman's eyes. FAME AND LOVE Stretch high on marbled Fame Thine arm and write aflame In letters fair, thy name, O friend! . ., . . ,. - ., , Yet higher stretch thine hand ; ^^. And write so fair that running sand,- ;* Of thine shall pause, while band - - ji Of critics cold give meed - • , 62 Of praise and peoples read And hear of thee afar, friend! And if, in mire Bent low, 1 higher On Fame's marble help thee Write again thy name, Freely will I bend so — To do it not would be my shame. And when 'tis there aloft, Thy name in letters soft Of golden gleams all fair, I'll climb as high As thou my friend the stair That all men try. And by thy name aflame With trembling hands I'll write my fame As thou didst write, While pause the sands In endless time To wait on might, On song and rhyme. And when men see on marble shaft Thy name and rnine with equal craft Carved there in scroll of Fame I'll come and kiss thy angry brow And tell thee that I love thee now, And ever shall the same. 63" CHRIST BEFORE PILATE Two thousand years ago, Before a slave of Caesar, There stood a man That was a King-. And the slave cleansed his hands, White over a mantel That hid a blackened heart, And the King was taken to his death. Gloom hung about Calvary. On the faces of the rabble There was gloom. Gloom was on the earth, Yet rejoiced were the stars For the prestage was of peace. The stone was rolled away, The King came forth And glorious was the resurrection. PUNISHMENT And whose'er with trifling hand Shall strike Love's sacred Harp And on its strings divine Breathe one unhallowed breath, The Gods shall make repine And bring tO' direst death. A NIGHT WITH FATE Bedeviled by grin Satanic, Hiding human heart beats. Fate walked in early morning, With me, through city streets. 64 Toilers and grinders were plodding Away to their daily strife, With the sullen faces of oxen, To earn the bread of life. Up through the smoke of a century A patch of blue I saw, But the eyes of the slave looked downward. The winter wind was raw. Fate grinned as he hailed a toiler, Swinging along the way, "Ho Richard! How like you living? Was't better in ancient day?" Instantly the man's form straightened, Eyes flashed with a kingly flame — He stood there a ruler in triumph. The Richard of England's fame. Fate beckoned me ever onward. We entered the factory door And there in a hundred faces The ghastly tale read o'er. Men sang, but there's singing and singing And the song that covers a woe Were better shorn of beginning In the centuries long ago. In the slums of the throbbing city We know men live and die: Fate called, I hurried onward For I heard a woman's cry. 65 In clutch; of the mob, an outcast Whose hair was streaming wide — Sobs shook her naked bosom, But Fate walked by her side. "Ho, ho, my royal lady! How sets the beggar's gown? How like you this old earth again? And where has gone thy crown?" As clouds before a winter's gale Went cries to welcome death — The beggar rose with royal mien, She was Elizabeth. Fate grinned no more, but in his face Shone pity and sweet sorrow, A tear for all the human race Who live again to-morrow. I hurried as he beckoned oft And paused beside the tide: He spoke and pointed to the sun— "Life has a happier side." WHAT'S TO DO? A lily white love is my lady fair Yet am I not elate And bonny and brown her waving hair But cruel is my fate, For I may never tell, all fond. The threefold story, sweet — My aching heart doth quite despond And fall at Amor's feet. 66 For I with lowly toil am worn, Comes she of high estate And Cupid's wings are sadly torn Nor can he more shoot straight. THE OCEAN BURIAL Bury in cold and chilly earth Unfeeling, chilly hearts — To her embrace let them return From out the crowded marts Of cities, lost to joyous mirth. But one, young, gentle and refined Whose clay must lie rest, For such fair temple let us find A place 'neath ocean's breast And bid her lie where waves are kind. It is not well that fair and lovely forms Should rest where worms may crawl, 'Neath damp and callous earth at last The rounded limbs that did enthrall — Dead shells on ocean's bed are safe from storms ! Then place her there and shed no tears, Where wave the tinted arms of weeds With rainbow hands and prismic eyes, O leave here there at last! 'neath reeds That rise and fall through days and years. The glow of pearls close by her head. The trailing weed a winding sheet. Where colored fishes softly kiss And tufty moss upholds her feet, ^ Where ocean flowers adorn the dead. 67 SWEETHEART Sweetheart, I sail away to thee Wlherever the helmsman steers, Whenever the main is wild and free My hope doth banish tears. Sweetheart, I strive alway for thee Wherever my swift feet tread, What task my eager eyes may see 'Tis done for hope ahead. Sweetheart, of thee I dream alway 'Neath stars and summer skies And by thy side I long to stay And read thy shining eyes. 'Tis true I know thee not. Sweetheart Nor are thy kisses real, But still of me art thou a part, My own, my fond ideal. HUMAN WATERS Thou breathing, pulsing, human stream That flows through tortuous streets. Winding, gliding, rushing on To where a cross road meets And ever on — fast — slow And fast again. With head erect and shoulders square. With drooping mien and eyes that dare Not look above — Whose spray is cast aside, Whose beggars cry aloud And ask for alms, 68 Whose lame and halt can not abide The crush — The rush Of human will — The restless stride! Thou human water That dost cross a bridge O'er other waters, flowing, That take thy spray as theirs — Thou heartless thing That dost wind and glide Past fanes and grave yards But hast never time to pray, Laughing, Dancing, Singing on With ever ears for joy, With never tears for groans! Thou parricide, Thou murderer — grim visaged , Thou! — whose hand doth brush From youthful cheek its flush, Whose iron doth burn From youthful hearts Their charm and grace. Whose onward swirl doth people hell And temper souls for paradise! Thou, thou! — I throw myself upon thy breast And with thee hurry on ! Where to? Speak, speak And tell! Or do but murmur in mine ear If downward be the way. 69 THE HEART THAT THROBS INTENSE The mind that grasps at grandest things, (The heart that throbs, intense), Doth soar aloft on spirit wings In realms unknown to ignorance. WOMAN'S EYES In a second — With the lift and turn of a lash. My soul to hers was beckoned; I saw the gleam and flash Of eyes — her own — Life ! it stirs Eternity's dormant passion. In Eternity's olden fashion. 1 saw what gleamed ! It pierced my youth! And now what seemed. Is changed to truth. What was it I beheld? Listen, listen! The flash of eyes! Eternal law Revealed. The rise. The fall, the ebb, the flow, The high, the low, The summer skies. The sunset glow. And passion's sweets. Her fond heart beats! 70 UNFATHOMABLE You thought you knew what love was A Ufe time, most, ago — You've loved and hated and suffered But still you do not know. You've scaled the highest mountain And throbbed in the arms of art — Measured the depths of ocean, But never the human heart. Gods may sense the eternal. The angels may know its goal — Each may fathom the other. But never a woman's soul. IMPATIENCE FOR FAME O Time! wilt thou not hurry? To-night I wait unhappy, in my room As bride awaits the lagging groom. And near are books and papers strewn, Fame's favorites I behold, and soon Fame's favor I would curry. Ambition, rouse ! rouse up and do — Thou sweetest thing that God Has stirred in cup of Life, Warm breath of Being, Soul of strife, Give me Fame's wings ere I to sod Return, and Life is through. The few that act upon Life's stage! This man that writes a book ! That woman in whose fiery look 71 Is food for printed sheet, Whose words of song are meet To make men weep or rage! I will ! I will do things as great ! Nor shall I wait on laggard Time ! I'll write such words in frenzied rhyme That men shall pause, and feel Like soldiers thrust with pointed steel! O hurry Time, come on like Fate! "Hush, foolish one, hast thou not learned/ Spake voice within my heart, "That Time is not— that Art Doth flee from all save giant hands That build so strongly, that the sands Of life are backward turned ? "Do thou thy work, think not of balm That soothes, if name of thine is sought; Most things, at last, shall come to naught; The song shall cease and book decay, But thought shall live, if in it ray Of Truth is seen, strong, pure, and calm." ^2. Poems of California and the West A SIGN O YE THAT LOVE OUR WESTERN SHORES, MORE FAIR THAN ANCIENT GREECE, HERE FOR THE WORLD ARE OPEN DOORS AND GOD HAS WET HIS FLEECE! n A CITY OF CALIFORNIA O, city of a poet's dream! By mountains girt about, With valleys full of glossy gleam Of orange trees, that often seem To' raise their arms with offerings Of sweet and golden profiferings, Too fair for gods to doubt. Grand mountains rise on either side, Snow-capped in summer days And far away to distant tide, Throbbing, passionate, like virgin bride. Billowy mists of green and blue Rise and fall with every hue That artist sees in blended rays. And where on heights Diana drove Now man hath wrought in nature's ways. Fair gardens, fit for gods to rove. Through airy aisles and lemon grove To smell the balm like that which blows From Thessaly. Man here forgets his shadowy woes, And dreams with Love of coming days. And looking off where vision ends, On rolling depths the eye alights. While azure blue of heaven bends, Down, down, and then with ocean blends. Until the sight of man isdim^. And mystic thoughts steal over. him - • And raise him up to awful heights; ■ 75- O, city of a favored land! O, virgin ne'er to mate! Thy mountains 'round thee grimly stand, Thy fairness is on every hand, While Star of Empire, Westward bent, Unto thy name acclaim has lent, Thy future shall be great. THE SPIRIT OF LOS ANGELES. Ethereal dweller, neath southern skies. With shining, yellow hair Where gloom awing with wishing flies And life is fond and fair. What gardens of the gods aglow Were tended with thy care Before this summer land could know Thy spirit in the air? Thou siren near the silvery shore Of verdant flowery lands The gods bend down to love thee more— To kiss thy dimpled hands ! On rugged Sierra Madra's crest The tall dark pines are sighing That they migiht clasp thy virgin breast Where moonbeams find thee lying. And on the hardened ocean beach The waves are laughing, foaming — Then ever strive to nearer reach Were thou art, ever roaming. ;6 The orange trees stretch out their arms With golden profferings laden And nodding flowers bend low their charms To worship such a maiden. HAIL TO THE CHIEF Thou art come, Chieftain of the Nation! In ancient Greece There woke a singer once And in the centuries That have flown She has been called By men The Poet. Naught may be used To greater make That which greatest is, — Fate ne'er surer flew Because the lesser powers Hung trappings on his wings, — And so we hail thee Chief And call the country that thou rulest The Nation of the earth. Here where Junipero came, Where Spain's bold flag Dripped blood upon the land, Where Fremont stood The outpost of the New And glittering gold Was wooed by all the world, In triumph thou art come, Through groves of green 77 And vales of nodding flowers, — And in the Western heart Enough there is still left Of ancient loyalty Unto a kingly cause To hail thee King of Nations, Yet know thee — citizen And president. And thus it is We give thee welcome. Written at the time of President McKinley's visit to Los Angeles and the Pacific Coast in May — 1901. JUNIPERO SERRA Fair the breezes fanned Majorca On a day in early spring And through the streets of ancient Petra Hurried friends to tidings bring. To a Spaniard laboring slowly. Waiting for the sunset gun, Came these eager friends and lowly Bringing tidings of a son. Junipero Serra — man of iron in days of olden! In glittering empyrean should thy deeds be sung — Hadst Ihou lived to circumstance more beholden Time's hand would hardly turn so far but tongue Of man should render praise to thee, But hearts of men with inspiration swell At thought of those that, reverent, bowed the knee To work of thine, done all so well. 78 Where daring deeds there were to do And paths in virgin forests 'bout For iron men hke you To hew and straighten out, Thou earnest and oft didst dream That God and empire sent thee here, The unfurled flag of Spain and gleam Of Christly cross the souls of men to cheer. O day of July first In year long gone ! Thou wert of Alta California The Natal Day • And the greatness That thou didst usher in Was more, and closer To the stride of Fate Than ever day before Didst dawn upon. In the annals of That County fair To which, with unknown guidance. Thou didst yield The twilight Of thy coming. THE EIGHTH WONDER Where California's mountains rise With snowy peaks to summer skies, Where savage tribes in early day Gave up a land to Christian sway And flag of Spain on bloody sod Was raised aloft in name of God, 79 There in the South where skillful hand Hath made a garden of the land, Where brain and brawn and buried gold Have brought the new from out the old, Where far away o'er mountains' crest The Star of Empire seeks the West, There chiseled in rude cafion bed The centuries show the Arrow Head. While Pyramids of Egypt stand And men can trace on Eastern sand The Walls of Babylon; — in dreams Behold her Hanging Gardens, and the gleams Of golden light that flicker rare From Temple of Diana fair, And once again in worship stand By Jovian Statue on Olympian strand — While we Colossus view at Rhodes, And Mausoleum death forbodes, E'en yet on rugged mountain side The Arrow Head doth still abide And so it shall while Time doth run And earth doth smile at shining sun — To tell the world of peoples, dead, That lived and loved by Arrow Head. ON RAYMOND HILL Out through the vista of the hills He gazes and listens and dreams. Birds are singing, butterflies winging. Life his pulses thrills And close to her he's clinging. Bo Distant the sound of a bell, Distant the city's strife. About him the murmur of summer And sweet the wildflowers' smell And quickened the throb of life. Barefooted, a boy came singing, Swinging his chubby fists, Glad and joyous came singing But with him sadness was bringing In memory of bygone trysts. O the love of a blue-eyed maiden ! O the thought of other years When life was lived in Aidenn, Long ago with the love of a maiden- O cease ye blinding tears ! A DREAM PROPHECY A summer sun shone on an orchard fair, That stretched about a southern home, A California home of dreams, And one sat there beneath the trees And gazed into the blue, ethereal dome Of heaven the while the gleams From glossy leaves and hum of bees Enthralled, for peace was in the air. He was a youth with bronzed and earnest face Who sat beneath those cooling bows And glanced, betimes, upon his grandsire, old, Whose palsied frame at Gettysburg had fought; But now he listened to the oft-told vows Of love, a jnrlish voice did sweetly mold 8i To purest song, with passion frought, And give to earth with gentle grace. Then one stood forth, all bright with other life, And hum of bees and girlish song were not And he that saw was dead to earth, mayhap. And knew but her whose name was Peace. "Take, take the gifts the gods to you have brought" She said. "Enjoy, for time will come when lap Of mine shall overflow and lease Of love shall change to cruel strife. "As truck thy grandsire's arm in battle's shock, As groaned that land and reddened o'er with blood, As died her sons and wailed her widows then, As cringed her Freedom in the gates of Fear, So this land shall groan beneath the flood That whelms her children, till that hour when They shall rise and rescue Freedom, near Run to earth, while rich men mock." CATALINA Catalina, Siren maiden! Lying clothed in satin blue. In waters warm as those of Aidenn- The summer skies bend over you. Lap the waves against thee ever, Kiss the winds thy naked limbs, Tires Nesaee never, never — White her foam the sea beach dims. 82 Catalina, eastward glancing At thy lover's lofty head, With the moonlight on thee dancing, Far Sierra sees thy bed. Sly Aeolus hovers over Pressing kisses on thy mouth. Fair to him — the fickle rover — Are thine odors from the south. Mystic Isle, in bed of ocean. Thou hast bared thyself to love, Warmed art thou with Amor's potion And thine arms are stretched above. Hearts for thy embrace are beating. Never Lesbos better knew That the Muses' favor, fleeting. Is for those that sail to you. THE BANYAN TREE ATAVALON, CATA- LINA ISLAND Came you there by bird or billow, Washed by wave or carried far With some flight of sea birds, winging Underneath the tropic star. There to grow with gum and willow? Banyan tree, we bless thy waking On the isle where Avalon Nestles in the sea-girt canyon, Dreaming of the days long gone, Listening to the billows breaking. 83 Came you from the Eastern Indies? Of thy coming we will boast! Came you from the fair Hawaii Or from Persia's balmy coast, Sacred fig tree o'er the seas? Whence or whither was thy coming Matters not, O Banyan tree, Thou art sign of tropic gloaming, Thou art rife of things to be In this land, the end of roaming, Where thou camest, o'er the sea. Lone and lonely Banyan tree. A HISTORY OF ARIZONA Brown and bare the desert. Under a sun-cursed sky — Far the stretch of the sand hills. To the mountains, looming high — Drear and dun the village, Where somebody came to die. Over the waste of the desert. Gleamed the steely track, Over the heart of somebody The longing to go back — 0.h, that the light for somebody Could shine through the coming black ! Gay and bright the laughter. Under the ball-room light — Low and sweet the music Far into fleeting night — Fair and queenly a woman. Wielding her royal might. 84 She was the thought of somebody, Coughing his Hfe away. Silently, hopelessly loving, Loving and blessing always — Constant the thought of somebody, Loving, night and day. Grim at the stake the martyrs Lifted their eyes and prayed! First in the fray the soldier. Firm and unafraid! But out on the dreary desert Somebody's grave was made! THE SONG OF THE SIREN OF RIO COL- ORADO Love to your death ye dark skinned race. The foe of the North, the Pale Face! Sigh to the hills, burnt and old — He Cometh, ;he loveth the yellow gold. I lie in the bend of the dark brown stream — With the mountains of eld I watch and dream And yon where trees the gorges span Winds oft the White Man's caravan. Far in the East the Red Man died— There, soundeth now the conqueror's stride And the Indian's fate with change is frought For bold and brave is the argonaut. I dream at night in the full moon's gleam As, silent, I swim the sullen stream : Since the birth of the hills I've held my sway Peoples have lived and passed away! What to me is the Indian's death? 'Tis the waning stir of a desert breath. But fairer than all the gold in the West 85 Is my mystic spell in a maiden's breast; Yet the passing Red Man's hand will kill On the barren plain and rugged hill. And I must save out of blood and fire A fair faced boy from savage ire — I'll wrap him now with power about While his friends go down in treacherous rout. Fierce and wild are those fiends of hell — Know the seekers of gold the story well ! On desert plains where the hot sun pours And the River flows tO' ocean shores — Melted snows from mountain rills Thick with red of basalt hills — Here in the South — the Indian's land — Shall Fate make strong the White Man's hand. The Siren knows the sullen way Of the sinuous stream by night and day — She laughs at the future and mocks the past For naught is changeless — naught shall last, But the wakening dream and mystic spell In a maiden's breast are hidden well — She will hold him close with her warm, dark arms And he shall love her savage charms. Yet Juta's song will grow faint and still For The God Of The Air hath power to kill And Basla's cry shall tell the grief Of a broken tribe and a powerless chief. In the yellow swirl of the yellow stream I swim with the flood in a half day dream — I pick the gold from my thick, damp hair And the mountain spirits calls me fair And ever when the bank doth fall 86 A rapturous lover hears my call, While every stark and stranded tree Holds drowning fauns who cry to me ; But I laugh aloud and shake my hair — For a siren's love the brave shall dare! Oh, strange the things my spell will do And the work of my hands is never through — See yonder camp of Pale Face braves! They too are Moera's willing slaves And the youth with the babe of straight, dark hair Is the maiden's love— The God Of The Air. And now they go with pick and pan To the Western shore with the caravan And the gold they find with shining face Shall change the hue of the dark skinned race, For war and love and glistening gold Are siren's tools since days of old. «7 APR 19 1904