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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
Spring /llboobs 
 
 nnb fancies 
 
 A BOOK OF VERSE 
 
 "yyo^ HELEN E. ' WIEAND 
 
 BY ^ 1 
 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
 
 1914 
 
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 A^'-' 
 
 SEP 26 19 W 
 
 COPTEIGHT, 1914 
 
 Shebmak, French &= CoMPAirr 
 
 GU379708 
 
 /t-r: / 
 
TO 
 
 MY SISTER 
 
ENVOY 
 
 Go, little book, upon your way, 
 Sing to the world your songs so gay; 
 Wish to all, joy in the glad Spring-tide, 
 That peace in their ingle-nooks may abide, 
 That love, deep, true, may their hearts enfold, 
 And happiness touch all life with gold. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Call of Spring 1 
 
 Spring Joy 2 
 
 Spring Passes 3 
 
 Spring Moods 
 
 I Unrest 7 
 
 II Whither Awat 8 
 
 III Song of the Heart ..... 9 
 IV Doubt and Assurance . . , .11 
 
 V Love is Best 13 
 
 Spring Song 14 
 
 Three Songs of Love 16 
 
 An April Day and an April Girl . . .17 
 
 May 19 
 
 First of May 20 
 
 A Daffodil 21 
 
 Summer Green 22 
 
 Red-rose Time 23 
 
 Late Roses 24 
 
 By the Sea .25 
 
 Memory 26 
 
 Bon Voyage! 27 
 
 Poppies 28 
 
 Night-song 29 
 
 Dreams 80 
 
 College Loyalty 31 
 
 The Artist and the Poet S5 
 
 Voices 87 
 
 To A. H. T. 88 
 
 On Reading the Life of Alice Freeman 
 
 Palmer 89 
 
 Helen M 40 
 
 Dream and Reality 41 
 
 To Kathleen Singing 42 
 
 A Song and a Word 44 
 
PAGE 
 
 Fragment 45 
 
 A Birthday Poem 46 
 
 A Song of Little Things 49 
 
 The Two Homes 50 
 
 To a Goldfinch 51 
 
 The Song of Tallulah 52 
 
 Storms 5S 
 
 To Janie 54 
 
 To Athena Parthenos 55 
 
 Translations 56 
 
 Friendship 59 
 
 The Way of Things 62 
 
 " Possunt Quia Posse Videntur " . . . .63 
 
 Sanctuary 64 
 
 Christmas Sadness 65 
 
 Christmas Bells 66 
 
 The Secret of Happiness 68 
 
 Inspiration 69 
 
SPRING MOODS AND FANCIES 
 
CALL OF SPRING 
 
 OvEE the hills drifts a mantle of snow, 
 
 Silently, mistily falling; 
 Winter about me, and yet to my heart, — 
 
 Clearly, though far away, calling, — 
 Cometh the song of the Spring-tide so gay, 
 
 Ever persistent, enthralling. 
 
 Dark stand the pines all heedless of cold. 
 
 Is it of Spring they are dreaming? 
 Silent the bird-songs, and even the wind 
 
 Waits for King March, so 'tis seeming. 
 With them I wait, all silent and still. 
 
 Wait for the Spring-sun's fair beaming. 
 
 Weary I'd be, were it not that I hear 
 Those far-away joy-bells sweet pealing; 
 
 All the glad joy of the Springtime to come 
 Gladly to me they're revealing; 
 
 And o'er my heart, spite of winter and snow. 
 Their potent magic is stealing. 
 
 [1] 
 
SPRING JOY 
 
 A GAY, mad breeze sweeps the budding trees, 
 And here and there, where the ground is bare, 
 The brighter green of Spring is seen; 
 And I hear, don't you ? — a note or two 
 Of the meadow-lark ; — again, oh, hark ! 
 Can't you feel a thrill, though the wind is chill? 
 Don't you really know, spite of flurrying snow. 
 That Spring, — that Spring is coming? 
 
 Flash o' wing of blue 'gainst a sky more blue. 
 And the wind's gay song bears your heart along 
 To roam at will o'er vale and hill ; 
 To feel the spell, to know all's well; 
 For yours the song that all day long 
 Sang Pippa the maid, as one day she played. 
 Through the city street with dancing feet, — 
 " All's right,— all's right with the world ! " 
 
 Then dance, gay breeze, through the redd'ning 
 
 trees ; 
 And, sweet bird, sing, all heralding 
 Glad Spring's return; while, my heart, yearn, 
 
 yearn 
 All you meet to bless with your happiness ; 
 For "the year's at the Spring,"— then sing, 
 
 heart, sing! 
 " The lark's on the wing," oh, sing, world, sing ! 
 No room for care when Spring's everywhere; 
 All's right, — all's right with the world f" 
 
 [2] 
 
 (( 
 
SPRING PASSES 
 
 O LITTLE flowers in the meadows growing, 
 Where gentle breezes, hither, thither blowing. 
 Caress each tiny blade of sun-flecked grass; 
 O little birds in all the woods a-singing. 
 And blossoms all your snow of petals flinging 
 Upon me, tell me, have you seen Spring pass ? 
 
 Me thought I saw her where the trees are 
 
 greening, 
 The glimmer of her gown I caught, bright 
 
 sheening, 
 And heard her singing, as I came this way. 
 But whether it was she, or Fancy's dreaming, 
 Or sunlight through the birches warmly 
 
 gleaming. 
 Or shadow of a cloud, I cannot say. 
 
 But this I know, that my glad heart is singing 
 With joy, for all the beauty of her bringing. 
 And all the golden glory of her days ; 
 And music has a deeper, fuller meaning. 
 For Love doth follow in her steps, Fm weening. 
 Waiting for me to follow in those ways. 
 
 [3] 
 
II 
 
 " Have you seen Spring pass this way? " 
 
 Asked I of the brook. 
 " Is she fairy, is she fay ? 
 
 Tell me, in what nook 
 She has hidden, stored away, 
 
 The sun-gold that she took 
 To make that coverlet so gay 
 
 Of marigolds, dear brook." 
 
 " Yes, she passed this way, I ween. 
 
 For I heard her sing; 
 And I saw her robe of green, 
 
 Silv'ry shimmering, 
 As she gayly danced, the queen 
 
 Of a dryad-ring." 
 
 " Have you seen fair Spring, dear bird, 
 
 That you sing so gay? 
 Was it her song that I heard 
 
 In the glade to-day? 
 Was it yours, with envy stirred 
 
 By her roundelay? 
 Tell me, if but in a word. 
 
 Has she passed this way? " 
 
 " Spring? Ah, all my song doth greet 
 
 Her returning here. 
 Never is my song more sweet, 
 
 Never note more clear, 
 
Than for her glad passing, fleet. 
 Spring? Yea, Spring is here." 
 
 " Floweret, blooming golden there. 
 
 Has Spring come to you? 
 Is she radiant and fair? 
 
 Are her eyes of blue? 
 Did she linger long to share 
 
 Secrets deep with you? 
 Can I find her anywhere. 
 
 Search the forest through? 
 
 >j 
 
 " On my lips she dropped a kiss. 
 
 As she passed this way. 
 At the rapture of that bliss 
 
 All my petals gay 
 Opened wide, lest they might miss 
 
 One warm golden ray." 
 
 " Maiden with the dreamy eyes. 
 
 Seated pensive there, 
 Is the secret I surprise 
 
 In your happy air 
 But the thought that Springtime lies 
 
 Round you everywhere? 
 You have seen Spring, I surmise. 
 
 And have found her fair." 
 
 « 
 
 Fairer than the poets know, 
 Radiant vision, she; 
 
 [5] 
 
Magic, as she whispers low 
 
 All-compellingly ; 
 Love attends her. Let me go, 
 
 She is calling me." 
 
 [6] 
 
SPRING MOODS 
 
 A POEM-CYCLE 
 
 I 
 
 UNREST 
 
 Wind and rain and sun, 
 
 And in my heart, unrest; 
 
 For me, when Spring's begun. 
 
 Only once more the test 
 
 And the query, from sun to sun, — 
 
 Wherefore your eager quest? 
 
 Whither, O restless one. 
 
 As you follow your heart's behest? 
 
 What goal, when your search is done? 
 
 What think you to find the best? 
 
 Sun and wind and rain, 
 
 But never a pause for me. 
 
 The birds sing for me in vain; 
 
 The flowers I scarcely see ; 
 
 The storm 'gainst my window-pane 
 
 But deepens my revery. 
 
 The sun may shine again, 
 
 But its gold is not for me; 
 
 And mournful the wind's refrain 
 
 In my heart's wild ecstasy. 
 
 m 
 
II 
 
 WHITHER AWAY 
 
 Whither away, oh, whither away. 
 
 Heart o' mine, in the mad Springtime? 
 
 What do you seek? Is it rage you wreak 
 
 On your naked soul, lest you miss the goal 
 
 Of some wild desire whose hidden fire 
 
 Is burning strong and hot and long, 
 
 Till you lose all love toward heaven above. 
 
 Till your once-deep faith is a phantom-wraith 
 
 Too poor to quell the magic spell 
 
 Of that restless flame which has no name? 
 
 Whither away? Ah, tell me, say! 
 
 Heart o' mine, in the mad Springtime. 
 
 [8] 
 
Ill 
 
 SONG OF THE HEART 
 
 Shall I tell it, shall I sing it, 
 Since you bid me broadcast fling it, 
 What I long for, what I seek? 
 Call me strong, or call me weak, 
 I will tell you, 
 All-compel you, — 
 You, — to hear me, as I say 
 Whither away — away. 
 
 Sing me a song of the love that is gone; 
 
 Sing me a song of fame ; 
 
 Sing me a song of power, nay, more, 
 
 Sing me a song never sung before. 
 
 Of the burning spell of Spring's hot flame, 
 
 Be it in praise, or burdened with blame. 
 
 Sing of the sun of Springtime that shone 
 
 Till I dreamed of love, and power, and fame. 
 
 And prayed for all three; yet ever the same 
 
 Sought for the one that was hardest to find. 
 
 Fame won proved tasteless, and power made 
 
 blind 
 The eyes of my soul, till I groped in the night 
 For the hand that only could lead me aright ; 
 And that hand was the hand of the love that 
 
 was gone. — 
 
 [9] 
 
So I rush to and fro to find it again; 
 And my wild unrest proves my search is vain. 
 Yet I sing, as I roam, of the love that is gone, 
 And the Spring's fair sun that shone. 
 
 [10] 
 
IV 
 DOUBT AND ASSURANCE 
 
 All the longing, all the ardent dreaming 
 
 Ended now, like this? 
 All jour passion only outward seeming? 
 
 E'en your love-feigned kiss. 
 Coldly all your earnest vows bemeaning, 
 
 Paid farewell to bliss? 
 
 What avail the moaning, what the sighing. 
 
 Now that Love is dead? 
 There behold his rose-crown, withered, lying, 
 
 All his arrows sped. 
 Need no more to shun his darts, swift-flying; 
 
 Need no more be said. 
 
 Rose-crowned? Aye, myself had crowned him, 
 singing, 
 
 " Love is king of all." 
 Gladly, royally my tribute bringing. 
 
 Pledged myself his thrall. 
 Hollow now your vows in deaf ears ringing; 
 
 I my pledge recall. 
 
 Golden were those days of happy dreaming; 
 
 Heavy these as lead. 
 Was it mine, or was it your ill-seeming, 
 
 That the fair dream fled? 
 
 [11] 
 
Ne'er again shall we behold its gleaming, 
 Now that Love is dead. 
 
 Not for us sad weeping; mem'ry only 
 
 Claims that ease for pain. 
 Sigh not now, though sad the days and lonely ; 
 
 Sighing, too, is vain. 
 " Love is dead " ; repeat with cold lips, wanly, 
 
 But that one refrain. 
 
 " Love is dead," — our happiness all ended ; 
 
 What is left? Ah, me! 
 Ways wherein our happy footsteps wended 
 
 Pain us now to see ; 
 Songs in which our voices gayly blended 
 
 Wake sad memory. 
 
 What is left.? Faith.? Hope.? Nay, nought 
 joy-bringing. 
 Love is greatest still. 
 Yet through faith and hope, again upspring- 
 
 ing> 
 Love may grow, until — 
 Dead? Ah, no! "Long live the king!" — 
 with singing. 
 Love proclaim his will. 
 
 [18] 
 
LOVE IS BEST 
 
 As perfect harmony, when every string 
 Is tuned to every other, in a lyre ; 
 Or when the thrill of passion turns to fire 
 The spell of lovers' voices when they sing; 
 So love is then made perfect when the ring 
 Of life is welded close, and made entire; 
 Nothing in earth to seek, and nothing higher. 
 One voice alone can start you quivering, 
 One touch alone can meet your own and stay; 
 One kiss alone upon your lips be pressed ; 
 One glance can hold your own, nor turn away 
 To greet another warmer. That the test ; — 
 To feel the touch, the kiss, the glance, and say 
 In all the world your love for me is best. 
 
 [18] 
 
SPRING SONG 
 
 The peach-trees thrill me with their fragrant 
 
 bloom, 
 All riotous and gay, as is our love. 
 Just as the mocking-bird his joy is singing, 
 Thus gayly, madly, is my joy upspringing. 
 My love for you, all other loves above. 
 Love dear and thrilling as that faint perfume. 
 
 Oh, Spring is sweetest of the seasons, dear; 
 And to my heart your love is sweetest, best. 
 A lilting bird-song, and a sky of blue, 
 A glow of blooming pink, and thoughts of 
 
 you, — 
 Thank God for these and love; — forget the 
 
 rest! 
 Could anyone ask more of pure joy here? 
 
 The very joy of it is almost pain, 
 As if my heart could not contain it all; 
 And overflowing, sings this song to you, 
 A song whose every word is deeply true, 
 Whose music is the mocking-bird's clear call ; 
 And all my love for you its one refrain. 
 
 [14] 
 
II 
 
 I would sing a song of joy this wondrous day, 
 
 As the birds in the forest-way ; 
 
 As the little leaves on the mist-green trees 
 
 Dance merry and blithe in the singing breeze; 
 
 And the golden sun, with each warm, glad ray, 
 
 Kisses the earth, while it chases away 
 
 Each mist of care that hurts or grieves 
 
 My heart, till with birds and flowers it believes 
 
 That joy is the song it should sing for aye. 
 
 So I'd sing of joy to-day. 
 
 I would sing of love, full, deep and free, 
 As the birds in the blossoming tree ; 
 Love that would cheer your heart, my dear, 
 Ever content when you are near. 
 Feeling full-sure that your love will be 
 As deep and strong as the surging sea; 
 And I need not doubt nor wait to hear 
 The words you might say, for your eyes, all- 
 clear. 
 Pledge the love you would give to me. 
 So I'd sing of love, care-free. 
 
 [16] 
 
THREE SONGS OF LOVE 
 
 Youth sings a song of love to be ; 
 Age of a love long past; 
 But I sing of love through eternity, 
 That will live when the future is past. 
 
 Youth's song is careless, of love full-sure; 
 Age sings of love long-tried; 
 But I sing of love that will aye endure, 
 That will close to my heart abide. 
 
 Youth sings of love unknown, to be; 
 Age of a love full-proved; 
 But I sing the love 'twixt you and me, 
 And my song is the sweetest of all, beloved, 
 For I sing of your love for me. 
 
 £16] 
 
AN APRIL DAY AND AN APRIL GIRL 
 
 A PATTER of soft warm showers, 
 
 A mist o'er the valley spread, 
 
 And after the rain 
 
 The sun again 
 
 Peers bright from the clouds overhead. 
 
 A flood of impetuous tears, 
 
 A pout and disconsolate sighs, 
 
 But after the pain 
 
 She smiles again 
 
 With a flash of sparkling eyes. 
 
 The sting of a March-like blast 
 
 Which dies to a zephyr soon; 
 
 And calm as May 
 
 Is that April day 
 
 In the light of_an April noon. 
 
 A frown and a tempest of scorn, 
 A kiss, — and all in a whirl 
 A rippling laugh 
 Comes back from the path 
 Of the changeable April girl. 
 
 The Spring of the year, it brings 
 
 Its gift, the violet blue; 
 
 Change as it will. 
 
 We treasure still 
 
 Its sunshine and cloudy days, too. 
 
The queen of our hearts, we bow 
 
 To her beauty, her charm, her glee ; 
 
 Singing or sad, 
 
 Merry and glad, 
 
 'Tis the April girl's right to be. 
 
 Changeable each as the waves 
 
 Of the sea, in calm or in gales ; 
 
 Spending each day 
 
 In their own sweet way. 
 
 For the whim of the hour prevails. 
 
 [18] 
 
MAY 
 
 The meadow-lark is crying, 
 Sad note to note replying, 
 Dreary, — yet the sun 
 O'er the world is pouring 
 All his golden storing; 
 Springtime has begun. 
 
 Would that we might linger, 
 Harking to that singer. 
 Dreaming ; — but the day 
 Calls to gladsome playing 
 Through the fields a-straying, 
 For 'tis May, glad May! 
 
 Come, forget all duty, 
 Hear the call of beauty, 
 To the fields, away! 
 What care we for working 
 When fair Spring is lurking. 
 In the fields of May? 
 
 [19] 
 
FIRST OF MAY 
 
 Oh, joyous free spring air, 
 And sweetness everywhere ! 
 To live is very bliss 
 In such a world as this. 
 
 Begin the year again 
 After the April rain, 
 When May is ruling, queen. 
 Forget all that has been 
 
 And come along with me; 
 Let's joyous, happy be 
 On this most perfect day. 
 For 'tis the first of May! 
 
 Begin life with the flowers. 
 All that is good is ours, — 
 The sun, the warmth, the breeze, 
 The fresh green of the trees, 
 
 The flowers, the birds, and all 
 Who answer woodland's call. 
 Are God's and ours too; 
 And since the sky is blue, 
 
 And the sun is shining bright, 
 All that God wills is right. 
 So start the year to-day, 
 For 'tis the first of May. 
 [20] 
 
A DAFFODIL 
 
 Out of the path of the golden sun 
 
 A sunbeam lost its way, 
 And on the earth, when the day was done, 
 
 It was left alone to stay. 
 
 The fairy queen found it, weeping and cold, 
 
 And lulled it to sleep, so still ; 
 When, lo, at dawn, a flower of gold 
 
 It awoke, a daffodil! 
 
 [21] 
 
SUMMER GREEN 
 
 On the Bryn Mawr Campus 
 
 A LONG green vista of trees which spread 
 
 A grateful shade where we love to sit ; 
 Gold-flecked shadow, as through the leaves 
 
 The long, warm rays of sunlight flit; 
 Cool dark green where the shadows end, 
 
 Golden green where the sunlight falls ; 
 All the greens of summer meet 
 
 In the trees o'erhead and the ivied walls. 
 
RED-ROSE TIME 
 
 Oh, red-rose time is a happy time 
 And a wondrous time for me. 
 No other time is half as fair, 
 No other time can be. 
 
 I pick the roses red with love, 
 For love's is the red rose fair; 
 And I kiss the petals glowing deep, 
 And leave my own love there. 
 
 Oh, red-rose love is the sweetheart's love. 
 So some old poets say ; 
 But red-rose love is the whole world's love. 
 And shall be mine, alway. 
 
 Then give me the roses glowing red, 
 And the love I will give to you. 
 For the roses red a message bring, — 
 'Tis this, " Dear, I love you." 
 
 [2S] 
 
LATE ROSES 
 
 "You will be writing poems about the lament of the 
 belated virgin roses, that had not gathered more timely 
 sunshine and were, alas! too late." 
 
 Weir Mitchell: "Westways." 
 
 Like the foolish virgins hasting forth to meet 
 The bridegroom when the joyful cry was heard, 
 So came you forth, by soft, gay breezes stirred, 
 The sun, all warmly glowing, fair, to greet ; 
 The bridegroom tarried, and the cheering heat 
 And welcome of the lamps shone dim and 
 
 blurred ; 
 Ah, foolish ones, by search of oil deterred, 
 And thus to come too late! So, roses sweet. 
 Full many days since shone the summer-sun ; 
 Too long you gathered sunshine ; late, too late. 
 You come to greet fair Summer's bridegroom, 
 
 gone 
 In to the feast of Autumn ; and the gate 
 Is closed. Alas! All chill without, undone. 
 Blasted, you linger ; and we mourn your fate. 
 
 [24] 
 
BY THE SEA 
 
 If my longing to see you could find words, dear 
 
 heart, 
 'Twould sing in a minor key ; 
 And the low-murmured song 
 Wail plaintive along 
 With the song of the rushing sea ; 
 And the note of a thrush in a sheltered nook» 
 Would sound in the melody. 
 
 Oh, 'tis weary the longing to see you, dear, 
 
 And the song is all in vain ; 
 
 And each throbbing note 
 
 From the glad bird-throat 
 
 But adds to my heart's dull pain ; 
 
 And I cannot sing now by the surging sea, 
 
 Though my longing heart were fain. 
 
 [26] 
 
MEMORY 
 
 Oh, the purple light on the noon-day sea; 
 
 And the white of the dashing foam ; 
 
 And the verve of the sailboat, riding free, 
 
 That bears you far from home! 
 
 The pale green depths and the mirrored blue. 
 
 And the gleam of the sun-touched sand ; 
 
 Tell, why should these bring thoughts of you 
 
 As I sit on the wave-kissed strand? 
 
 Or why should the scent of a deep red rose. 
 
 Or the song of a mocking-bird. 
 
 Or the wind which through the pine-trees blows. 
 
 Or a song we both have heard, — 
 
 Tell, why should these bring thoughts of you, 
 
 When my heart would fain be free ? — 
 
 In the golden chain of love, forged true, 
 
 Each link is a memory. 
 
 [26] 
 
BON VOYAGE! 
 
 TO 
 
 R. M. E. 
 
 May the skies be fair and clear 
 
 As you sail! 
 Naught to cause you harm or fear 
 
 As you sail ! 
 Sunshine bright in skies of blue ; 
 Winds and waves all prosjper you ; 
 And my love, I add it, too. 
 
 As you sail. 
 
 [27] 
 
POPPIES 
 Faie poppies with their drooping heads so 
 
 gay,— 
 
 Soft, silken-petalled, brilliant, sunlit-red, — 
 
 Over me cast their spell at end of day ; 
 
 Fair dreamland's flower, I followed where they 
 
 led. 
 And, lo! a vision-world was opened where they 
 
 led. 
 
 Happy I roamed and played there all the night 
 Within that wonderland of poppies gay; 
 Happy the hours sped, but morning light 
 Scattered their petals crimson; and at day. 
 Banished I stood alone outside that land at day. 
 
 Show me once more that land where dreams 
 
 come true; 
 Once more that fairy music let me hear; 
 Back again take me, poppies of crimson hue ; 
 Let me return to that fair world so dear. 
 Poppies so rare, poppies of sleep and dreams, 
 
 80 dear. 
 
 [28] 
 
NIGHT-SONG 
 
 Out in the garden the poppies are swinging, 
 Heavy with sleep, my little one ; 
 Nodding their gorgeous heads 
 Over the flowers' beds ; 
 Swinging, my little one, swinging. 
 
 Down by the shore the dream-ship is waiting, 
 Sails white unfurled, my precious one; 
 Anchored it waits the crew. 
 Waits there for me and you; 
 Waiting, my precious one, waiting. 
 
 Over the world gray shadows are stealing. 
 Quiet with peace, my dearest one ; 
 Burdened with fragrance sweet. 
 Stealing with silent feet ; 
 Stealing, my dearest one, stealing. 
 
 Over us all the angels are watching 
 With loving care, my little one; 
 Bending on drooping wing, 
 Guarding us while they sing ; 
 Watching, my little one, watching. 
 
 [29] 
 
DREAMS 
 
 To and fro 
 
 The branches blow 
 
 As they dance with the winter-wind ; 
 
 To and fro 
 
 My swift thoughts go 
 
 As they seek and long to find 
 
 The banished gleam of the golden dream 
 
 That my heart with yours entwined. 
 
 All night long 
 
 A plaintive song 
 
 Sang the wind to the sleeping trees ; 
 
 All night long 
 
 In a merry throng 
 
 Trooped those days, more glad than these, 
 
 Through my gay dream-thought, with rapture 
 
 fraught, 
 And with happy memories. 
 
 By day I yearn 
 
 For the sweet return 
 
 Of those visions, golden-gay ; 
 
 But in vain I yearn, — 
 
 All cold and stern, 
 
 All sad is the sky, and gray; 
 
 But the night-wind's song and the vision-throng 
 
 Will linger with me alway. 
 
 [80] 
 
 ^ 
 
COLLEGE LOYALTY* 
 
 In the silence of the night you came to me, 
 Came in the song-filled silence of a dream ; 
 Not strange, then, that my lips could find no 
 
 words 
 To pledge the faith to you my heart felt deep. 
 I trembled at the gift you offered me, 
 Fearful lest ever I might fail to prove 
 All that you hoped to find in me of help, 
 Of wisdom, or of sympathy. — You stood 
 So young and eager in the fair moonlight 
 That, all unseen by you, my arms went out 
 To clasp you to me ; if I could to guard, 
 To keep you from the trials yet to be; 
 To hold you, guide you tenderly along 
 The path which I had gone, and so knew 
 
 well. . . . 
 
 Again the song. — I tried to speak, — you 
 
 know 
 How poor the words, and yet I pledged you 
 
 then 
 At least my love for all the happy days 
 That we might work and play together here. 
 Vos ego semper amabo, — good-night — . 
 The song, the vision, and you left me there, 
 
 * To the students of Wheaton College, Norton, Massa- 
 chusetts, in response to a serenade. 
 
 £81] 
 
All wakeful now that you were gone, aflame 
 To say so many things I'd failed to say. 
 Your charm was on me, and I could not sleep; 
 And so I rose to write the words that rushed 
 So eager, fast, through all my thoughts for 
 you. 
 
 My love I offer in exchange for yours; 
 An open door, warm welcome, sympathy, 
 An elder sister's helpfulness for you, — 
 Each one of you alike, — I'm yours to serve ; 
 Wisdom, if I have aught, at least as much 
 As I have gained from having passed this way ; 
 Reproof, perchance, if any need there be. 
 But softened by the gentle moods of love; 
 And last of all I pledge you loyalty. 
 And, as I pledge it, I would pledge you, too. 
 Four comrades as fair travellers to go 
 Along with you throughout your college 
 
 days, — 
 Work, Friendship, Happiness, and Loyalty. 
 
 The first, not always fair to look upon ; 
 Of ttimes footsore and weary ; garbed in gray ; 
 Veiled, like Hosea, lest the world might see 
 Too early that her sordid outer robe 
 Covers a being glorious, full-strong, 
 Triumphant victor over every task. 
 
 [32] 
 
The second, ah ! you know her even now, 
 And knowing, love her. Hurt her not, nor 
 
 wound. 
 All life is fairer shared with her; without, 
 Bitter, all unavailing. Dead Sea Fruit. 
 Trust Friendship, and she'll cling to you for 
 
 aye; 
 Walk soft before her, self-possessed and true. 
 
 And Happiness, — her very name sings joy. 
 Troubles must come, but they will pass away. 
 Treasure the pleasant things you chance upon ; 
 Lay hold upon the happiness to-day, — 
 Blue skies, the songs of birds, a chance-caught 
 
 smile. 
 Gray mist of rain across the meadow green. 
 Oh, there's a world of joy! So enter in, 
 Keeping all-radiant Happiness as guide. 
 
 Work, Friendship, Happiness, and last of 
 all. 
 Blue-robed, star-crowned, and clear-eyed Loy- 
 alty, 
 Seeing the vision, following to the end. 
 Faithful to serve, careful to tell the truth, 
 Noble of purpose, striving for good alway. 
 
 Loyalty, Happiness, Friendship and loving 
 Work, 
 Hand clasped in hand, together let us go, 
 
 [33] 
 
Ready for duty, ready for love, for joy; 
 Far above all, our pledge be Loyalty, — 
 Loyal to home, to college, to old friends dear; 
 Loyal to new-found friends, to duties new; 
 Loyal to Wheaton, our fair college home; 
 Loyal to high ideals, to truth, to faith; 
 Loyal to one another! 
 
 [34] 
 
 \ 
 
THE ARTIST AND THE POET 
 
 Two stood upon a hilltop, looking far 
 Across a summer landscape, and to each 
 Appeared a different beauty in the scene. 
 The artist saw the sunlight shining gold, 
 The fleecy clouds, the waving green of trees. 
 The shadows here, the gleam of river there. 
 The shifting lights ; and on his canvas, true 
 He painted the fair vision as he saw. 
 And men, beholding it, acclaimed him great, 
 For they could feel as if they, too, stood high 
 Upon that hill and saw the selfsame vale, — 
 The golden lights across the meadow-land, 
 And shadows where the clouds across the sun 
 Cast shadow-selves upon the hills beneath. 
 
 The poet saw, and through his inmost soul 
 A thrill full-sweet swept, joying in the sight. 
 As beauty turns to joy for those who see 
 And who interpret beauty seen thus fair. 
 And joyously he sang the wind's gay song 
 As riotous it swept o'er hill and vale ; 
 The triumph-song of waters rushing down 
 To join the quiet river-song below; 
 The call of wood-birds ; summer's many sounds 
 Indefinite, yet vocal ; and the hum 
 Of summer-bees and merry winged things. 
 But through it all he sounded, low and clear, 
 His heart-song, joying in the beauty rare 
 
 [35] 
 
Of hill and vale and stream, of sun and cloud. 
 And him men loved, though great they called 
 
 him too ; 
 For he had tuned their hearts to feel the spell 
 Of beauty as the artist taught to see. 
 But as the feeling is more precious far 
 Than seeing, so they claimed him greater still. 
 And sang his songs all gladly, far and wide. 
 Fame to the artist gave they; but the best, 
 The gift of love, unto the poet came. 
 
 [36] 
 
 ii 
 
VOICES 
 
 Every voice a different note possesses, — 
 
 Some so full and sweet 
 That each simple word the heart caresses ; 
 
 Some with joy replete; 
 Some so shrill that every nerve set quivering 
 
 Aches to hear the tone. 
 Every voice its separate mood delivering, 
 
 In the world but one 
 Of the many voice-notes wakes your longing ; 
 
 But one can caress ; 
 Only one can rouse fond mem'ries thronging; 
 
 One alone can bless. 
 Matter not how many voices mingle, 
 
 Only one you hear; 
 One from all the many you can single ; 
 
 Only one call dear. 
 Askest whose the voice I love thus dearer 
 
 Than the many rest.? 
 Whose alone I joy to have draw nearer? 
 
 By whose am caressed? 
 Needest not to ask. — Thy voice starts singing 
 
 Heart and soul of me; 
 In my thoughts for aye its note is ringing 
 
 The true melody. 
 Tuned to mine, thy heart, through thy voice 
 
 speaking, 
 Draws me ever near. 
 Need no more of question, nor of seeking; 
 
 Thine alone I hear. 
 
 [37] 
 
TO A. H. T. 
 
 Your kindliness, your sympathy, first drew 
 My heart to love you in those careless days ; 
 And hero-worship spread its roseate haze 
 About the real, to make the fancied you; 
 Love, hero-worship, and beside these, too. 
 An ardent hope that I might sometime raise 
 Myself to equal you, — to win your praise, 
 To win your love in turn, and as my due 
 Claim equal friendship with you. Now at last 
 That all-ambition I have won, full-sure; 
 And having won it, I shall hold it fast. 
 Welding the links of friendship all-secure, 
 Treasuring dear the memory of the past. 
 Praying our love may through the years endure. 
 
 [38] 
 
 lu 
 
ON READING THE LIFE OF ALICE 
 FREEMAN PALMER 
 
 A VISION of such noble womanhood 
 
 That we must hope in vain, 
 Though long upon its loveliness we brood, 
 
 Its likeness to attain. 
 Yet we can long and strive to be like her. 
 
 Fair, pure in mind ; 
 And unto all who came to ask of her, 
 
 Exceeding kind. 
 A vision that in days of deep distress 
 
 Smiles sweet in sympathy ; 
 A vision of true, noble blessedness. 
 
 And calm serenity ; 
 The shining of an angel's smiling face, 
 Illumining each day's abiding-place. 
 
 [89] 
 
HELEN M. 
 
 Fair visions that our blind eyes could not see, 
 Thou, with thy child-like faith, beheld full- 
 clear ; 
 And angel-songs our dull ears failed to hear 
 Made glad thy heart with happy melody, 
 About thee spread a veil of mystery. 
 Surely the gods had held thee very dear 
 To choose thee as their messenger, their seer, 
 That thou might'st tell to us what they to thee 
 Revealed all willing. Little fairy-child. 
 Who didst linger with us loth, so short a while, 
 Feeling this world too strange, too chill to bear. 
 Thou with thy songs our weary hearts beguiled. 
 With thy gay dreams didst win from us a smile. 
 And then didst leave us. Heaven guard thee 
 fair! 
 
 [40] 
 
DREAM AND REALITY 
 
 The vivid green of new leaves just uncurled ; 
 The song of birds a-nesting in the woods ; 
 The murmur of a stream full with Spring rain ; 
 And golden, wind-swept sunshine on the mead, — 
 These were my visions in the dream-filled night. 
 And you, — you came to me amid them all, 
 Bringing a song of love, conned all for me. 
 Its pulsing rhythm I seem still half to feel. 
 Almost its words I seem to hear you say; 
 But you — are far away. 
 
 Awake, — the trees stand leafless, as I feared ; 
 No bird-notes in the silent winter-wood ; 
 Ice-bound the stream, and snow-white all the 
 
 mead; 
 Even the sunshine cold and white and dead; 
 Fled all the visions in the cheerless dawn ; 
 But you, — or love of you, — still lingers here ; 
 And deep within my heart I guard the love 
 Which sang in all your dream-song to me, dear. 
 For well I know, though visions flee at day, 
 That you — you love for aye. 
 
 [41] 
 
TO KATHLEEN SINGING 
 
 My sQul is afire this day with love of that song 
 
 You sang last night ; 
 And the plaintive melody through the dark 
 hours long, 
 
 Till morning light, 
 Ran through my fitful dreams like an angel's 
 song. 
 
 Dost think 'tis right 
 That thus you should charm and steal my love 
 away, 
 
 My own dear heart? 
 Giving nought in return ; e'en loth to stay 
 
 The smallest part 
 Of a day beside me; — turning ever away? 
 
 How cruel thou art ! 
 But evermore that plaintive song I shall keep, 
 
 Forgiving the pain ; 
 And hold that memory hid in my aching heart 
 deep ; 
 
 But ne'er again 
 Shall I unlulled by that melody go to sleep, 
 
 With its sweet refrain. 
 
 [42] 
 
II 
 
 Sweet little melody rippling along, 
 
 Rippling, trilling, soaring; 
 Notes as clear as the even-bird's song, 
 
 Rippling, trilling, soaring. 
 Dost know how the melody gladdened my heart, 
 
 For the day had been dark and weary? 
 A spirit thou seemed, from the world apart, 
 
 With thy gladsome song so cheery. 
 Gay, warbling melody, joyous and clear, — 
 
 Rippling, trilling, soaring, — 
 Such notes from the treetops we're wont to hear, 
 
 Rippling, trilling, soaring. 
 
 [48] 
 
A SONG AND A WORD 
 
 Theee is a song 
 Which few musicians know, 
 Which never yet 
 To music has been set, 
 
 And yet the flow 
 Of that sweet melody has echoed long 
 
 In true love's song. 
 
 There is a word 
 Which only poets know, 
 And its deep thought 
 With gladness fraught 
 
 Has cheered men so 
 That all have listened, and a few have 
 heard. 
 
 Where find that word? 
 
 [44] 
 
FRAGMENT 
 
 Oft would I write down what my fancy sings, 
 But like gay moths, my thoughts spread flut- 
 tering wings. 
 And in the flame of life's all-dazzling light 
 They perish ere I trace their wanton flight. 
 
 [46] 
 
A BIRTHDAY POEM 
 
 If I were a poet, I'd send you, dear, 
 
 My wishes of joy for a glad new year; 
 
 A musician, I'd write a song so gay, 
 
 A rippling strain, for your glad birthday. 
 
 Or were I a rose, I'd bloom and blow 
 
 In the gay March wind, my love to show 
 
 To you, whom the year has blessed once more 
 
 With a glad birthday, as it did of yore. 
 
 Or were I aught that your mind could guess, 
 I'd lose myself in forgetfulness. 
 Only to think of you, and this, 
 That my heart bade me send you a birthday 
 kiss. 
 
 Since none of these I can be, dear lass, 
 I can only hope that the day may not pass 
 Without a thought in your heart for me ; 
 For my love for you is my message, see ! 
 
 Never poet nor singer could find, I know, 
 A theme like this to thrill me so ; 
 And no need to search, for I've found it here 
 In my heart for you; and I send it, dear, 
 
 [46] 
 
That you may know, on your glad birthday, 
 My thoughts have carried my love away 
 On the wind, or the storm, or whate'er you will, 
 And borne it to you as a gift until 
 
 I wonder if it can ever be 
 The very same in this world for me. 
 Now that I've told you I love you so, 
 As it used to be long days ago. 
 
 But fare thee well, my own dear heart. 
 May joy and happiness be a part 
 Of each day in this new year just begun, 
 A blessing bestowed by each day's sun. 
 
 Not a poet, musician, nor rose so fair, 
 But only a friend, with a love as rare 
 As your love for me and my love for you 
 This day, this year, and all life through. 
 
 II 
 
 My wish to you for a birthday rare, 
 As rare as the maid whose day it is. 
 
 Nothing of sorrow and naught of care 
 
 Shadow those eyes of gray so fair; 
 
 Sunshine and love ever linger there. 
 Dear maid whose day it is. 
 
 [4T] 
 
Love has a field with flowers set, 
 
 Each with a message of love to bring; 
 Choose you a rose, or a violet, 
 'Tis all the same, you need not fret ; 
 Whichever you choose, remember yet, 
 
 Each has its message to bring. 
 
 But the red, red rose alone is meet 
 
 To bring to you, dear, my birthday kiss,- 
 
 Red of the petals for joy complete; 
 
 Green of the leaves for hope so sweet ; 
 
 Heart of the rose, my own heart-beat. 
 Love, — and a birthday kiss. 
 
 [48] 
 
A SONG OF LITTLE THINGS 
 
 A GENTLE breeze which I could hardly feel, 
 And yet I saw a little blade of grass, 
 
 So lowly and so close to the cool earth, 
 Sway blithely, gaily, as it felt it pass. 
 
 A little pool of water, scarce enough 
 
 To mirror the crescent of the silver-moon, 
 
 And yet I saw a bird drink deep of it, 
 
 Refreshed by its sweet coolness in the noon. 
 
 A little word of greeting and a smile ; 
 
 But 'twas enough to cheer one in despair. — 
 A song of little things, and yet how real 
 
 The gladness that they spread, — how deep, 
 how rare. 
 
 [49] 
 
THE TWO HOMES 
 
 O LITTLE home whose shelter we have left, 
 For many years you've dearest been, and best; 
 But you are empty now of all that joy, 
 Holding for us no comfort now, no rest. 
 
 O little home to which we just have come, 
 May all our life here ever be as fair. 
 As happy, and as peaceful, and as good, 
 As were the years we spent together there. 
 
 [50] 
 
TO A GOLDFINCH 
 
 Gay little, bright little yellow bird, 
 
 Darting so swift through my garden trim. 
 
 Wherefore your haste? 
 
 Lest the hours you waste? 
 
 Know you not that the hours wait for him 
 
 Who, busy like you. 
 
 Strives his work to do, 
 
 Gay little yellow bird? 
 
 Gay little, bright little yellow bird. 
 Flowers of earth bloom all for you, 
 
 Serving your need 
 
 With their every seed ; 
 
 Should I doubt that the Father watches, too. 
 
 That no ill befalls 
 
 Those whom his He calls. 
 
 Gay little yellow bird? 
 
 [51] 
 
THE SONG OF TALLULAH 
 
 Tallulah Falls, Georgia. 
 
 Oh, the song of Tallulah rings in my ear, 
 Tallulah, the Terrible, rushing along! 
 E'en in the Valley of Peace I can hear 
 The undertone, echoing far, of that song. 
 
 " On ! on ! " is the swelling refrain ; 
 " On ! on ! " answers Hurrican, too. 
 L'Eau d'Or, Tempesta, join it again; 
 Tallulah, the Terrible, on ! haUoo ! 
 
 Never a moment to rest, ah, nay! 
 Never a moment but bears along 
 Rushing of waters and dashing of spray, 
 And Tallulah still singing her buoyant song. 
 
 On ! on ! o'er the stones to the dale, 
 L'Eau d'Or, Tempesta, on, on, to the sea ! 
 Hurrican, come, and fair Bridal Veil, 
 Tallulah is singing her song so free. 
 
 On ! on ! Never rest thee, nor stay ! 
 Fair Oceana, Tempesta the strong; 
 On! Hurrican, L'Eau d'Or, on! away! 
 Tallulah, the Terrible, shouts her song. 
 
 [52] 
 
STORMS 
 
 Whirling, twirling, like the mad wind swirling, 
 As loud and free as the swift wind hurling 
 The snow 'gainst my window-pane, 
 So my thoughts go rushing, swift, onward 
 
 pushing. 
 Never a pause, in anger crushing 
 All love. Ah ! never again 
 Can I go on my way in joy and gladness, 
 The sting ever there of my foolish madness. 
 Like the sting of the driving blast. 
 The sun may come out, with golden beaming, 
 But the gold of it is mere outward seeming. 
 Melt the snow, but the sting will last. 
 
 All soft the snow in its cloud-bed lying; 
 
 All swift its course as earthward flying; 
 
 Its journey done, what peace! 
 
 But my thoughts go on in their ceaseless 
 
 turning. 
 And their path is ablaze with their angry 
 
 burning. 
 Their journey will never cease. 
 Cold-white the snow, now its journey over; 
 Not even the sun could now discover 
 Its sting as it rode the blast ; 
 My brow as cold, and my lips as smiling, 
 Mirth and gay word the day beguiling; 
 In my heart the sting will last. 
 
 [«3] 
 
TO JANIE 
 
 A MIST-LIKE radiance covered all the earth, 
 A veil of moonlight sifting through the haze, 
 And its strange beauty stayed and calmed my 
 
 mirth, 
 I sat and dreamed of sweet departed days. 
 And then you came, and broke the magic spell ; 
 The silence of words felt, yet unexpressed. 
 Lay there upon us, and I knew full well. 
 Or thought I knew, what you had fain con- 
 fessed. 
 
 E'en in the moonlight I could look and see 
 The deep'ning shadows in your eyes of gray 
 That darkened with the depth of revery 
 And burden of the words you would not say. 
 And seeing that sweet shadow in your gaze, 
 I knew that time to come might promise more 
 Of love and joy than those departed days 
 Had granted. That the message your eyes 
 bore. 
 
 And, sweetheart, if I guessed your secret, say, — 
 And tell me true, if that was what you meant? 
 Or was the brilliance in your eyes some ray 
 Of moonlight, — not the message you had sent? 
 Whate'er the message, or whate'er your thought. 
 May all I do, or all I ever say, 
 Ne'er banish from your eyes the look I caught, 
 And hold here treasured in my heart for aye. 
 
 [5*1 
 
TO ATHENA PARTHENOS 
 
 A PERFECT woman, as an artist dreamed, 
 Wise, merciful, yet just, goddess divine, 
 Protectress of fair Athens, noble-browed, — 
 To thee, though centuries have come and gone 
 Since men of olden Greece vowed faith to thee 
 And maidens paid their tribute at thy shrine, 
 To thee we offer still the incense rare 
 Of wonder at thy majesty sublime. 
 Thy wisdom like to Jove's, thy beauty fair; 
 And pray that heaven may grant e'en unto us 
 The blessings thou didst give to Greece of old,— - 
 Prosperity and honor, knowledge, truth. 
 May all our men be upright, true, and free; 
 Our maidens pure and noble, like to thee. 
 
 [55] 
 
TRANSLATIONS 
 
 Behold Soracte gleaming white with snow; 
 The trees beneath their burden bending low; 
 The rivers, bound in ice, have ceased to flow; 
 'Tis Winter. 
 
 The wood upon the cheerful hearth pile high; 
 Dispel the cold, and stand the wine- jar nigh; 
 Fair master of the revels, let's defy 
 Chill Winter. 
 
 Away with care ; leave all that with the gods 
 Who hush the blasts and calm the struggling 
 
 floods. 
 They too will care for us, so what's the odds? 
 Trust Fortune. 
 
 And let the morrow bring what task it may, 
 As gain account whate'er the stern Fates say ; 
 Come, join the merry lovers dancing gay! 
 Life's Springtime. 
 
 Too soon the silver 'mid the gold locks gleam; 
 Now is the time for love's sweet twilit dream. 
 And whispers low, and meetings well beseem 
 The lover. 
 
 [66] 
 
Hark ! now a rippling laugh betrays her hiding, 
 Your steps to that dark corner surely guiding; 
 Pursue, and snatch a pledge from her, with 
 chiding. 
 
 She waits you. 
 
 Horace, Ode 9, Book I. 
 
 [57] 
 
Do not ask! For you, for me, 
 Wrong to know, Leuconoe, 
 What the end the gods bestow, 
 What the Eastern sages know. 
 Do not ask, Leuconoe, 
 Not for you, nor me! 
 
 This the task, for you, for me, 
 
 Come what may, Leuconoe, 
 
 That to bear, though Jove's behest 
 
 Grant this year the last. — 'Tis best. 
 
 Heed the task, Leuconoe, 
 
 Best for you, for me. 
 
 Would be wise, Leuconoe? 
 
 Quaff the wine life pours full- free; 
 
 Short the span of life, so why 
 
 Hope to stay the hours that fly? 
 
 Wisdom this, Leuconoe, 
 
 Seize each gift life holds in fee. 
 
 Trust not then, Leuconoe, 
 
 That to-morrow will for me, 
 
 Will for you, bring happiness; 
 
 Seize each golden hour's largess ; 
 
 Envious time hastes you and me; 
 
 Life is brief, Leuconoe. 
 
 Horace, Ode 11, Book I. 
 
 [58] 
 
FRIENDSHIP 
 
 After Cicero: " De Amicitia." 
 
 OuE knowledge grows by study and by thought 
 On things that all the world, since time began, 
 Has thought upon and pondered, deep and 
 
 long. 
 No new thing can we find to say or feel, 
 But some wise sage or poet long ago 
 Sang the same theme, or morahzed thereon ; 
 And yet we dare to add our little voice 
 To criticise, to censure, or to praise 
 The poet or the sage ; — to add our thought 
 To all the stored-up wisdom of the world. 
 Zeno or Epicurus, Socrates, 
 Silver-tongued Plato, or the Roman school, 
 Seneca, Pliny, or good Cicero, — 
 Why need we care for them? They're merely 
 
 names. 
 Ours to live, to think, to feel, to say. 
 Ours the world to find out for ourselves. 
 
 But it is well, in all our sure content, 
 Careful to ponder o'er those golden names. 
 Treasure their teachings, balance them with 
 
 ours ; 
 So let us do with Marcus Cicero ; 
 
 im 
 
Friendship the theme, and Cicero the sage. 
 
 Only 'mongst good men can it blossom forth, 
 That his first precept; for what seemeth fair. 
 Turned to base comradeship of wicked knaves 
 Leagued but for crime, not friendship reckon 
 
 that. 
 Not gain nor common cause can friendship 
 
 win, 
 Nor need of friends, nor need of friendly help. 
 But sweet affection, mixed with kindliness ; 
 A certain rare attraction, as a light 
 Shining afar to lead straight to the shore. 
 Or magnet drawing more close ; — true friend- 
 ship that; 
 Friendship so close that one may think for two, 
 That two may share for one all general good; 
 No envy, only j oy at other's gain ; 
 No strife, but only one continued peace; 
 Asking no evil, granting none when asked ; 
 Constant concession, and yet constant will; 
 Gentle reproof most thankfully received; 
 Careful through all lest friendship turn to 
 hate. 
 
 Can friends then hate? Ay, they may grow 
 to hate; 
 Friction engenders heat, contention, strife. 
 So we must bear with friends ; for of the gifts 
 Sent to mere mortals by the gods' decree 
 Friendship is best, of golden worth, most rare. 
 
 [60] 
 
Guard, then, the treasure; who takes love 
 away, 
 
 Takes all the joy of sunshine from our life. 
 
 Fortune's fair smiles but pall unless there be 
 
 Someone to share the good, the joy withal; 
 
 Sorrows o'erwhelm us if no one be near 
 
 To stretch a hand in sympathy or aid. 
 
 Friendship the greatest gift the gods bestow. 
 
 Treasure it, then, seek it ; and when once found, 
 
 Never release the friend unless your heart 
 
 Beats no longer atune to his, your eye 
 
 Meets but a glance of hate in seeking his. 
 
 Test then each one you meet, before you love; 
 
 Judge first, not last; but having judged, be 
 true. 
 
 New friends may come ; be loyal still to old ; 
 
 He " who would have a friend, must be a 
 friend " ; 
 
 Loyal, devoted, congenial, loving, true. 
 
 He is a friend who proves all these to you ; 
 
 Such friends are few, but there are some, in- 
 deed ; 
 
 And may the gods grant one such friend to you. 
 
 [61] 
 
THE WAY OF THINGS 
 
 Of friendship you talked full many a day, 
 And I was a ready hearer alway ; 
 But when you came with your tale of love, 
 My thoughts began to wander and rove; 
 I did not care for love. 
 
 And many there came who talked of love. 
 And my thoughts would ever and always rove, 
 Till I longed again for the happy day 
 When they talked of friendship, merry and 
 
 gay. 
 How I longed for that care-free day! 
 
 But though I waited, it never came. 
 'Twas always and always the very same. 
 When they talked of love, the friendship fled, 
 And love refused mocked the friendship dead. 
 Oh, would that the friendship had not fled! 
 
 [62] 
 
"POSSUNT QUIA POSSE VIDENTUR" 
 
 Far ahead gleams the magic goal, 
 Clarion-clear stern duty sounds 
 Her trumpet-call; awake, my soul. 
 The race is to the strong. 
 
 Strength of purpose, determined, true; 
 Strength of heart, to meet the test; 
 Strength of will, God gave to you; 
 The race is to the strong. 
 
 Enter the lists, 'mid life's mad din. 
 Steel your purpose and arm your will; 
 Dare to believe, and believing, win! 
 The race is to the strong. 
 
 [68] 
 
SANCTUARY 
 
 As a little child in pain 
 Finds surcease in loving arms, 
 So in this dim, quiet place 
 I meet Peace with shining face, 
 Calming all my soul's alarms ; 
 Never do I come in vain. 
 
 Mystic shadows spread above. 
 Through the silence I can hear 
 Doubt and each perplexing choice 
 Answered by the " still, small voice " 
 Of the Spirit dwelling here 
 In this place of peace and love. 
 
 O thou Christ who died to bring 
 Peace to men eternally. 
 In the quiet of this place. 
 Thee we meet, with radiant face, 
 To sad, weak humanity 
 Sanctuary offering. 
 
 [64] 
 
CHRISTMAS SADNESS 
 
 Through the golden web of Christmas gladness 
 
 Runs a purple thread; 
 All the grief and all the weary sadness, 
 
 Bitter tears unshed. 
 
 'Mid the joy-bells' music, hark! one hears 
 
 A sad minor strain ; 
 Silver cadences of falling tears. 
 
 But the old refrain, 
 
 )) 
 
 " Peace to men on earth, a child is born,' 
 
 Cease your tears, ye sad ; 
 " Glory in the highest," poor hearts, torn. 
 
 He will make you glad. 
 
 " Peace on earth and joy in heaven this day," 
 
 Hope and joy and cheer; 
 Sad hearts, mourning, wipe your tears away, 
 
 The Prince of Peace is here. 
 
 Prince of Peace, of Hope, of Joy, of Love, 
 
 Christmas-gift to earth. 
 Hail Him, then, ye choirs, below, above; 
 
 Hail His day of birth! 
 
 Mingle earth and heaven in glad refrain ; 
 
 Ring, ye joy-bells, far! 
 Glad, triumphant, raise the joyous strain; 
 
 Ye have seen His star. 
 
 [65] 
 
CHRISTMAS BELLS 
 
 Ring! bells, ring! 
 
 First ring the note of joy this Christmas-time, 
 
 " Glory to God in the highest," be your strain ; 
 
 Never a minor note in all your chime; 
 
 The melody sung by the angels o'er Bethle- 
 hem's plain 
 
 Now o'er the world ring clear in your glad re- 
 frain ! 
 
 Ring! bells, ring! the joy of Christmas time. 
 
 Ring! bells, ring! 
 
 Next ring the note of peace, so full and sweet. 
 
 " Peace on earth " in harmony undisturbed. 
 
 God's great major chord of the world com- 
 plete, 
 
 Till all the kings of the earth, by that deep 
 note stirred. 
 
 Pledge all their faith for aye to that magic 
 word. 
 
 Ring! bells, ring! the peace of Christmas-time. 
 
 Ring! bells, ring! 
 
 Last ring the note of good-will this Christmas 
 day. 
 
 " Good-will to men " the choirs of heaven be- 
 stowing : 
 
 Love in each heart for his neighbor, as on our 
 way 
 
 [66] 
 
We travel to where the Day-star, brightly 
 glowing, 
 
 The path to the manger-throne this day is 
 showing. 
 
 Ring! bells, ring! the good-will of Christmas- 
 time. 
 
 Ring ! then, ring ! 
 
 All ye bells in all lands, this Christmas-time. 
 
 " Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, 
 
 Good-will to men," the notes of your festal 
 chime. 
 
 Ring, ye bells, proclaiming the great King's 
 birth ; 
 
 Ring, ye bells, the glad tidings to all the earth I 
 
 Ring! bells, ring! the message of Christmas- 
 time. 
 
 [67] 
 
THE SECRET OF HAPPINESS 
 
 To give of love, to give of joy, of self, 
 Forever giving more and more each day, 
 This is the golden key to happiness ; 
 This is the sun that brightens earth's cold way. 
 
 All deep content, all perfect bliss has been. 
 When in the midst of just such royal giving, 
 The heart has spent its all, forgetting self, 
 And, happy, knew that this was truly living. 
 
 [68] 
 
INSPIRATION 
 
 Is it only deep unrest from which the poet's 
 
 soul, 
 Rising, like the phoenix, from the ashes and the 
 
 flame. 
 Soars up to the glory of a poem heaven-bom ; 
 Brings to men a message; adds to the great a 
 
 name ? 
 
 Nay, but happiness and love bring inspiration, 
 
 too; 
 Stir the soul with passion, and touch the lips 
 
 with fire. 
 Even sadness, too, can prove a power and a 
 
 flame; 
 Thoughts and words, with magic art, all vivid, 
 
 to inspire. 
 
 [69] 
 
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