Helen Williston Brown Class Book._— _ Copyriglit]^?- COPYRIGHT DEPOSm ELAN VITAL BY HELEN WILLISTON BROWN BOSTON THE GORHAM PRESS 1917 S r ' \^ Copyright, 1917, by Helen Williston Brown All Rilrhts Reserved l^ MADE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Thb Oorham Prsss, Boston, U. S. A. MAR ! 6 1917 ©GI,A457460 ^( ^ /^>ut "Vi^O ^{ , TO MY HUSBAND SANGER BROWN, II CONTENTS A Child's Epitaph to Her Bird 7 From a Schoolroom 1 1 Shadowings I2 Youth 13 Elan Vital 17 To 18 Sunt Lacrimae Rerum 19 Spring's Lament for Winter 20 Glamour 21 The Campus 22 The Difference 23 Ad Astra 24 L'Envoi 25 Hero Worship 26 Reunion 27 The Doctor 31 The Army of Metchnikoff 32 Post Impressions 34 The Third Year Student's Nightmare 35 Of the Earth 38 In Dispensary 39 The Final Victor 40 Two Ways 41 The Imagist Muse 45 The Sentence 46 CONTENTS To Dr. Anna Howard Shaw 47 A Dream 48 The Imaginative Chauffeur 49 On the Origins of Romance 50 Senility , 51 The Hero 52 Afternoon Tea 53 To Alice 54 To M. W. W 55 A CHILD'S EPITAPH TO HER BIRD Here lies a little bird Of whom the world ne'er heard. No poet of him sung For he died very young. This epitaph I made him When in his grave I laid him. AT ROSEMARY FROM A SCHOOLROOM The letters blur before my eyes, The figures on the board grow dim, And once again I walk with him Beneath the light of April skies. I feel again the Southern breeze Blow on my cheek, and as I pass, I hear the rustling of dry grass And blue birds singing in the trees. Here by the shining brook we stand. I have no need at all of aid, But I would fain appear afraid That I may take the outstretched hand. His hand — I never shall forget, — Perhaps held closer than the need. For now, when mine again is freed, It seems as though he held it yet. II SHADOWINGS The other night I had a curious dream, A spectre came and stood beside my bed. "Arise and follow me," the spectre said, "And see things as they are, not as they seem." Then I arose, not knowing what to do And trembling, cried in fear, "Who may you be? Your face is turned away, I cannot see." To which the spectre answered, "I am you." "And what you are is what I now shall show. See here, this wild, uncultivated spot. Full of rank weeds and things that profit not, That represents exactly what you know." "I cannot see," cried I in angry tone, "You always stand directly in my light. And though I try and try with all my might Where e'er I look, I see but you alone !" I turned and tried to flee then, as I spoke. But just as swiftly sped my hateful guide. I could not leave it, though I vainly tried And lo ! It was a dream, and I awoke. 12 YOUTH Give me no idle hours to live, I pray, Nor drowsy days to gently pass away. No careless peace, no quiet rest of mind. Let life go swiftly, swiftly, with no stay. Fill my existence full of eager life. May every second be with action rife. Let me drink deep of sorrow and of pain. Of hope, and joy, and happiness, and strife. But most of all I long for, give me this,- What ever else of good my life may miss. To love, so life and love shall be but one. To love with all the life that in me is. Then, when my heart is filled to overflow With loving, living, happiness and woe. Let me not live to see the passion fade But, by some sudden ending, let me go. 13 AT BRYN MAWR ELAN VITAL If what the poets dream be really true, — That love and truth and beauty never die, And life is but a shadow^ and a hope Of a far shining, glad reality, — How joyfully I then would seek the truth! But, if the dream is just a splendid lie. And poets are blind leaders of the blind Who, in their mad delusion think to see A glorious shining in the heavy dark,— If this be true, — I would, like them, be mad. 17 TO Would that my brain were of a firmer stuff That I might grave thereon, indelibly, That face, Nor lose a single line of it; In all, through all, and over all, see him, Until at last I slip away into oblivion Looking upon him only. i8 SUNT LACRIMAE RERUM Happy we were, Love, you and I, Under the cherry trees together Smiling up at the smiling sky, Joyous hearts in the joyous weather. White were your hands as the cherry blossoms, Soft was your cheek as the breeze in May, Little we thought love, you and I, Time would carry so much away! Let us look back, dear, into the past. Watch how the years go trooping on. They have taken all we said should last, And the dreams of youth are gone. Tell me, sweetheart, are we to blame That we did not keep the years away? To lovers true is all time the same — A thousand years as a single day? 19 SPRING'S LAMENT FOR WINTER Why hast thou vanished from my arms, beloved Winter ? On thy cold cheek I laid my soft, warm hand. 'Twas then I heard a blue bird sing And all the air was bright, and I was glad, But as I turned to kiss thee, thou wast gone. Now have I followed thee so far Unto the bare, bleak regions of the North, And wander, now, beneath thy tall, black fir trees, — Forever following after thee. Yet thou art ever gone before. O wilt thou not return again? See, I will pluck for thee my fairest flowers. And pour the myriad hues of all my dancing foun- tains at thy feet, While all the air shall ring with songs of birds. Will not this beauty bring thee back once more? Or, is it true, as some voice seems to tell me, Thou lovest me not as in the early time When we two walked the bare wood-lands together And naught was green save one small birch tree, Shivering beneath thy wild, cold snowflakes? If this be so, then are we ever parted And I must follow now the path to summer Where all is bright and warm and beautiful. Yet, O, how lonely is my heart without thee I ao GLAMOUR Song of birds, and dancing streams, Sky of a brilliant summer day, A winding road where sunlight gleams, And I and my dream love, riding away. Setting sun in the distant clouds. Sad, cold shade where the light has flown ; Bare, bleak hills that the damp mist shrouds,- And I am riding, riding alone. Zl THE CAMPUS In autumn when the ivy leaves turned crimson On the grey stone buildings, The maple trees vi^ere yellow as gold, And the sun shone out of a deep blue sky. How my heart leaped up to greet it in the morning When I ran to chapel through the frosty air. On winter nights, when the wind blew Across the cold white snow, The buildings standing black against the sky Were full of lighted windows; The campus lights glowed yellow and round, Leading away into the darkness. And far above, the frosty moon Slid swiftly behind the windy clouds. But, oh! in the springtime. The lawns of the campus were greener than emer- ald; Against the grey walls the ivy leaves shimmered ; The cherry trees bloomed, and the pink and white dogwood ; Oh, then witii the strength of my youth, how I loved it. 22 THE DIFFERENCE A teacher will teach what authorities deem You should know, nor permit you to doubt it. A professor is so much in love with his theme That he just has to tell you about it. 23 AD ASTRA Out of the sorrowing hearts of men, Hearts with rapture and anguish wrung, Out of the shade that sin had made, A crimson flower sprung. The flower grew from the hearts of men, In the darkness and the clay, But its blossoms turned where God's sun burned In the white space far away. Because the flower grew in the clay. Men said it was defiled, But the Spirit above, who rules in love. Beheld the flower and smiled. 24 L'ENVOI Far down the pathway, into the darkness Glimmer the lights in their warm misty halos. Green are the trees whose pointed leaves quiver Glimmer and rustle when soft the breeze passes. Far, far down the pathway are figures approaching White, swaying onward, and now they are singing. Sweet, sweet is their song and weird in the darkness, Hark, how their singing is mingled with laughter. Now as they pass we may see their young faces, Happy, young faces, gay, wistful and eager. They are passed, and their song is again growing fainter, Lingering now in a last, dying cadence. Out of the twilight they came, and as quickly Into the twilight again they departed. 25 HERO WORSHIP The light of sudden laughter in his eyes Was sweet to me as are the flowers in May. I listened for his step upon the stair, — Then, when at last he came, And I could hear him in the dingy hall With rattling keys, unlock his office door, The library, wherein I toiled O'er chemistry in German, Suddenly appeared a warm attractive spot. And as I read, I heard his footsteps Come and go along the passage way, Or in the laboratory, and I knew From long and close attention. Just what he was at, — Combustions maybe, or a melting point, — And I was quite content in knowing he was there. 26 REUNION O happy days, when in the springs gone by We watched the lawns grow green beneath the sun, The campus maples spread their pointed leaves, And on the gray stone walls, the Ivy buds Shimmer and grow till all the world was green. Most joyfully we stood beneath the sky, Raising our arms In ecstacy to heaven. To see the spring come back to us again. So much of life has flowed between That time and now. The years have gone. Our lives are elsewhere; we are not the same; And some of us have lost the light Of faces that we loved. It seems as though the shades were coming back To flit again upon the campus grass. 27 AT JOHNS HOPKINS MEDICAL SCHOOL THE DOCTOR Slender and tall and stately With long, thin, beautiful hands, A handsome head, with hair turned grey, Great dignity, and a gentle way Of saying the things he has to say, And a spirit that understands. 31 THE ARMY OF METCHNIKOFF The leukocyte had had his tea And In the lymph space, calm, reclined, Smiling, as happy as could be, Desiring peace for all cell kind. When, hark! A pseudopodic thud Is heard his smiling peace to mar. It rouses all his fighting blood. He scents the battle from afar. He hastens to the nearest vein. Protrudes his nose into a crack, Then wriggles through with might and main, Once inside, joins a motley pack! Of stupid, bumping, red blood cells, Of white cells crawling on the wall ; Some snobbish, basophilic swells. And platelets with no shape at all, All hastening towards the seat of war. Each one resolved to do his best, And, tho' he knew not what 'twas for, Our leukocyte went with the rest. "The vessel's plugged, crawl through, crawl out, Connective tissue, crosslots crawl!" So rose the vanguards' warning shout, And so obedient, did they all. ; At length behold the battle ground. See how the dread bacilli swarm! Their long flagella wave around Like grasses in a driving storm. 32 Now coward heart 'twould be to dread The poison of each gleaming spear. The ground is heaped and heaped with dead For Death is lord and master here. But in our polynuclear's breast A bacchanalian frenzy glows, And many microbes he'll ingest Before he reels among his foes. He reels, he falls, his life is past All unregarded in the wrack, Tho' Victory may come at last, She cannot bring her warrior back. And many millions, such as he Must die, the triumph to complete; The ghastly crown of victory If formed from smoke wreaths of defeat. 33 POST IMPRESSIONS He took me out to dinner, and we sat Opposite at table for an hour or more, Smiling into each others faces, Just so far away I might have touched his shoulder By stretching out my arm. Then, when he brought me home again, And we had said good-bye, and he was gone,- Still, all that night, his contemplative eyes Gazed at me from the darkness, Just so far away. 34 THE THIRD YEAR STUDENT'S NIGHT- MARE I could not study any more, My book slipped softly to the floor. Just as I gently closed an eye Rose Dr. Hollis, three miles high, Who, pointing to an X-ray said, ''This is a plate of Steadman's head. The mist, that all the outline shrouds Is proof his head is in the clouds. In his last clinic Doctor Hare Thinks that he heard a murmur there." To which the latter made demur. And said he could not feel quite sure, The history was incomplete And there were noises in the street. He should be interested to hear What the post mortem had made clear. But Doctor Hyatt said with pain "There's no permission for the brain;" Then Doctor Winterson arose And waved his knife beneath my nose And, pointing, said, "What organ's that? Can you tell splenic pulp from fat?" At which I faded quite away In time to hear a sad voice say, "She says she has no appetite And worries more than half the night. Her medicine has made her sick. She wants a real doctor, quick!" To which another voice replied, "The baby cried, and cried, and cried. I put a bandage on its head But 'twas a tape worm instead, 35 Which would unwind its self so fast It got away from me at last, And as it went I heard it say, 'To-night I must be far away. I think the worst of all my trials Is trying to keep up with styles.' " Then someone tried to go away, But others said we'd better stay, Especially as those before Met Doctor Mellon at the door. And first of all he called on me. He said, what would the answer be. And did I think it would be worse If every lever should reverse; Then, when I said I did not know, He answered he expected so. But Doctor Oakly cried in glee, ''This case has phobia, you see. Afraid of me, afraid of you. That's not one phobia, but two. I think if properly addressed. We quickly can make out the rest. Now do you not or don't you think That red's a deeper shade of pink? Some hesitation. In this state The patients often hesitate. If you should see a mouse at night Would it be purple, green or white? You're sure it is not white or green? Then purple mice, at night, you've seen. Illusions of this striking kind Denote the pathologic mind. Such hesitation and delusion Betray a high grade of confusion." 36 But Doctor Roberts cried, "Just wait! This patient's an ataxic gait. Has gastric crises every day And reflexes are gone, they say." Now this was more than I could bear And I woke trembling in my chair. 37 OF THE EARTH O blue-green garment of the world, So lightly yet so wholly thrown Over the face of the Unknown, — fair green garment of the world! Thy web of earth, and sky, and sea, Is all the universe I know. And only what a sense may show. Has ever come in dreams to me. 1 should not know the hand of God Unless it were in earthly guise. How dream of light without the eyes? I should not know the hand of God. And I, with my white feet of clay. My heart so full of earthly things, I have no self to soar on wings Into some pallid, unknown day. But loving best the blue-green earth, I turn to it with clinging hands. Is this not all my life demands — The light and love of the green earth? For so my mind and heart have grown Out of this world of time and sense. That I should be, if taken thence, An empty ghost of the Unknown. 38 IN DISPENSARY I slip from the dispensary door Where all the rows of seats Are empty now; only a drunkard on the floor Awaits in deep, unconscious peace The coming of contemptuous police. Over the random pavement, where The gutters break a steady stride, I chase the fleeing trolley car And gasping, climb amid the motley crew That throng it. Here, while journeying for home, I ponder on the happenings of the day, — The dreary toll of patients in dispensary. That poor old woman with a tale of woe, And indigestion consequent there on, (As well attempt to pacify the sea, As placate indigestion when its cause Comes nightly reeling home.) The colored lady with rheumatic pains Of ten years standing, and an endless row Of ugly babies, patched with eczema. Coffee and cabbage, and a taste of beer, As like as not will prove to be their fare. The little boy with the infected knee. How his face haunts you! So it goes. 39 THE FINAL VICTOR I brush all foolish dreams aside That gentler gods possess the throne. Why dream, If facts the dream deride? There Is no god save Death alone. I feel his cruel, cold, white hands Press heavily upon my own, That strive to stay the ebbing sands. There Is no god but Death alone. The heaped up knowledge of the years Like chaff before the wind Is blown When Death with dread Intent appears. There Is no god but Death alone. Love triumphs, glorious for a while. Thinking she may her lord disown, Death waits with a contemptuous smile. There Is no god but Death alone. Like one who watches children play Who heed not how the time has flown, He stops the game at close of day. There Is no god but Death alone. 40 TWO WAYS Yours is a level, tranquil way; I wander forth with outstretched hands Where dumb and wild emotions sway In dim and far volcanic lands. But I, who fail in half I do, And smile to see my own despair. Perceive a glory hid from you Tho' you should seek it everjrwhere. And I, who waste my soul in strife, In fighting blackness, catch a gleam, — I know of love outlasting life. That is to you an empty dream. So yours may be the level road Where skies are fair and fields are bright, Serene and tranquil your abode. I walk among the Gods tonight. 41 POST HOC THE IMAGIST MUSE As lovely spirits sprang from Grecian Soil Out of the worship of our Mother Earth, So from New England's rocky hills There springs, today, a muse, — Muse of the Imagists. Behold her come With strangely halting steps. Like one w!ho long has trod uneven ground. Her dress is somewhat sombre; Her straight hair drawn tightly back; Upon her eagle face, the look Of one who serves an iron cause ; New England conscience shining in her eyes, While her firm lips declare That they virill speak the truth And nothing but the truth, So help her God! 4S THE SENTENCE Far in the vague, dim, early days, When phantoms thronged the misty air, The world was all a magic maze — Wood spirits wandered everywhere; But Science threw a searching light Down the dim pathways of the past. The lovely spirits fled in fright, Their doom pronounced on them at last. Empty the woods of fairy folk. Their wailing dies upon the breeze. Science their solemn sentence spoke, "Man fashioned you from vines and trees." 46 TO DR. ANNA HOWARD SHAW One tribute more I, too, would pay To that indomitable soul Who, through so many weary years, Has held aloft the flaming torch That lights her feebler sisters To the goal of freedom — Freedom from all the myths of centuries. May her mighty spirit dwell among us Till that time shall come when man May prove his chivalry, and give The symbol of their freedom, To the women who have hoped for it so long. 47 A DREAM Last night I dreamt that you, who are, And you, who used to be. And I, were going out somewhere, Were going out, we three. We seemed to be at college, And were going out to tea. And you, and I, came slowly down To meet the you that were. I stopped beside the leaded panes That light the winding stair. You went to look for your old self. But found you were not there; And when you told me so I said, "My dear, — I do not care." 48 THE IMAGINATIVE CHAUFFEUR I am a chauffeur. I sing of the joy of a life that is lived in the open, Beneath the blue sky and the sunlight of heaven; Or the vv^hite, slashing rain; or the cold stars of mid- night. Let others toil under roofs, — Inside w^alls pierced with vv^indows. I dwell in the open. My car is my kingdom, I rule it with a rod of iron. My car is my slave. It flies at my bidding. My car is my sweet-heart, There is none fine as she is. The purr of her tires, the throb of her motor Are sweet to my ears as the soft voice of love. What though others dictate the roads that I follow, I, I am really ever the master. I hold all their lives in the crook of my elbow. Like a Viking of old, who sails over the ocean. Like a warrior of old, who rides through the wide world, I traverse the earth, a free man among free men. 49 ON THE ORIGINS OF ROMANCE Crouching within his damp and dirty cave The unkempt cave-man Gazed into the blackness of the night. Behind him on the earth, his ugly consort lay Surrounded by her stupid progeny, Huddled like sleeping puppies. They slept ; but he, how could he sleep So wracked with terrors of the fearful dark ! That breath of wind upon his cheek, — Was it some spirit come to blight his hearth? Were those the eyes of a strange, savage beast? And what was that soft foot-fall in the forest? Did it not seem that space itself Was filled with cruel, clawing hands That sought to snatch away his furtive soul ? So thought the cave-man shuddering in the dark, Straining his fearful eyes to trace Some outline in the blackness. Vague, uncertain, like a mist behind the tree trunks, Spead a dim light from the eastward ; In the distance, out of nowhere Suddenly, the moon slid upward And the blackness fled before it, Leaving only streaks of shadow From the tall stems of the pine trees. Cautiously the cave-man peered about him. Saw that the new light revealed no menace, Not the shadow of a spirit, only peace; And deep within his savage heart There stirred a warm emotion For the magic of the moon. 50 SENILITY The light of his own reason all gone out; The present time become a blur of sunshine and of shade, Through which familiar faces peer and pass ; He wanders down the bjrw^ays of his brain, Along the devious paths worn there By the innumerable footsteps of his ancestors, Among old thoughts of half remembered things. 51 THE HERO An epic figure he appears, A character of high romance, To fable of in future years,- He drives a "tank" in France. 52 AFTERNOON TEA Mournful the dwelling, where darkness descending, Finds not the presence of laughter and glee. Drear is the twilight that draws to its ending With never an hour for afternoon tea. Then blest be the tea tray resplendantly gleaming; The warm, glowing fire before which it stands. Thrice blest be the tea kettle, bubbling and steaming, And the heavenly brew the occasion demands. The spirit of laughter presides at the meeting Of light hearted folk from their labors set free. Come join the gay circle that gives a glad greeting To the comfortable hour of afternoon tea. 53 TO ALICE I have a friend that tills the land, Who with the eye of faith can see Just how the garden she has planned, In future years will be. Two oak leaves from an acorn grown, When rightly viewed give excellent shade ; These seedlings, I should not have known, Bear flowers that cannot fade. By faith her small box bushes grow. Quite close together, three feet high ; By faith tall chestnuts in a row, Obliterate the summer sky. By faith she sees this scraggy vine Embower half the garden wall, And little plants that peak and pine Grown thrifty, strong and tall. Admiringly I hear her talk. And what I must suppose is That, where I find a gravel walk, She treads a path of roses. 54 TO M. W. W. Dear Heart, I do not need your picture, There upon the wall. To bring your lovely presence Back to me again; For, on a day like this, when the bright sun Flames thro' the glory of the clear blue sky, And all the earth is autumn red and gold, It seems as tho', if I stretched out my hand Into the sunshine, I should feel your presence there, And touch the golden glory of your hair. 55 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proce£ Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 PreservationTechnologie A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATIC 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724) 779-2111 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 018 602 357 2