Classics 3ir_t_^ CofiyrightN'JI&i. COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. CYPRESS AND ROSE CHASING BUT T V. R F L I E S ( Poem Pii^t ^S ) Cypress and Rose By ./ Marion Frances Watt The Ivy Press Seattle, U. S. A. 1902 CLAJW a^ XXO No, A^ y i W 1. COPY a. Copyrighted igo2 by Marion Frances Watt Arrar.f^cd u/ij Printed by The Ivy Press at the Sign of tlie Ii'\ Leaf in Seattle, Wash., U.S.A. T O My Husband Alexander Watt THE ILLUSTRATIONS Chasing Butterflies The Goal is But a Little Wav Frontispiece opp. 127 THE CONTENTS Sappho 17 Autumn Song 19 Cards 21 Song . 23 When We Grow Old 24 The Rose of Paradise 27 Suspense 29 To My Ladye Faire 30 Chasing Butterflies 32 Would He Return Remembrance To the Last Fly The Boat That Never Went to Sea The Death of Summer Serenade The Last Good Bye Love At Last Pond Lilies The Cup of Hate November Rain The Nun For Saynte Valentyne, His Daye The Honeymoon Serenade Forgetfulness The Song of the Shell I II The Quest Song . Songs of the Seasons My Lady 89 1 Knew 91 Farewell 93 The End 95 You and I 97 Unwritten 101 Heloise 107 O Doubting Heart 1 1 1 Love's League 115 December 121 The Goal is But a Little Way 125 Don Pancho 129 CYPRESS AND ROSE Cypress and Rose SAPPHO \X7'HEN in the red vintage of the western sky Dissolves the pearl of light away, In a far-off ruby-gold sea, When the dim wings of Twilight are rustling by. And tender penciled fancies play, I think of thee, I think of thee. When parted the purple curtains of the night, And on her couch of dewy space The earth has loosed her robes of pearl ; When the gray moon is lost in another's light. And dreams in noiseless resting place, Thou art my world, thou art my world. J7 Cypress and Rose When the never-ceasing tide of passing feet Streams thro' the crowded market-way, And pale Care slowly beckons me ; When throbbing veins of the city wildly beat, And Tumult drives the car of day, ■I think of thee, I thing of thee. When roses droop, love-languid, 'neath breath of noon. When pulseless is the heavy land, And stilled the lightest trill of birds ; Across the crescent of liquid azure bloom Thy name is traced by unseen hand In golden words, in golden words. When dream the milk-white blossoms on stilly lake, When passion-flowers are gemmed with dew. And acacias doze on the lea ; When crimson petals no longer keep awake. And the jessamine nods adieu, I think of thee, I think of thee. 13 Cypress and Rose AUTUMN SONG T T ECTIC flush now doth blush, And burn its crimson warning On the leaves; Grasses sere, spread their bier, Where trembling age in mourning Silent grieves. Evening's chill, damp and still, From the elms a robin's lay- Sweetly rings ; Loving dews, fragrance lose As they kiss the pain away Autumn brings. J9 Cypress and Rose Blue-tinged air doth declare The withered crown of summer Is decayed ; Crickets creak, firesides seek. While winter time in slumber Is delayed. Soft and low, sweet and slow An unseen band is chanting O'er the past ; Night birds call, roses fall, And by-gone joys are haunting Autumn's blast. 20 Cypress and Rose CARDS TV yTANKIND engages in a life-long game. At morn, with lavish hopes, he takes the part Dealt out to him, high passioned waits the trump, And Destiny as Love doth turn a ''heart." Then earth and heaven mingle into one, But soon, as is a bird awoke to feed Her little ones, necessity demands Or poverty declares that "diamonds" lead. Past noon : The game is played by sterner hands. Success is but a trick that's lost and won. He gains the stakes who hits the hardest blows. And holds a "club" where once a heart had done. 2\ Cypress and Rose At night defeat and gain become as one, Where all is dim ; yet, ere the light doth fade, Another hand is dealt, and he may hold All things he sought, but Death hath turned a "spade." 22 Cypress and Rose SONG 1^ jNE evening when the g-limmering land was still. When day was dark and but the night was clear, Contentment and a strange enchanted peace Came o'er me from a spirit standing near. As when the earth revolving, yet is still, So in that Presence time had ceased to be, While thus I plead, ''O, blessed Angel, stay ! And dull my soul to all the world but thee. Let Love, that masquerades in borrowed robes Of Hope, forget this happy heart of mine, And let me drift thro' all eternity Unconscious of all other power than thine." But as I spoke the eastern sky uplit, A songbird whistled in a tree above. And gravely smiling as he took my hand, The spirit softly whispered, "I am Love." 23 Cypress and Rose WHEN WE GROW OLD ' I *HERE comes a time when golden-hearted noon Will yield to twilight's chill embrace, When sighing winds will shed the summer's bloom And waft their sweetness into space. When frost will lay Where once was May, And lips all tremulous will say : 'There comes a time when we grow old." From far across the shoreless ocean's breast The dying sunlight faintly streams, Wliile unseen barks are speeding o'er its crest And rosy Hope is lost in dreams. For weary hands The day hath spanned And feebly trace o'er sallow sands, "There comes a time when we grow old." 24 Cypress and Rose There comes a time when on the viewless tide Is heard the boding tone of fate ; When Galen's band is summoned to our side To check the foe within the gate. Strict guard they keep, Yet in our sleep A voice comes whispering o'er the deep : '"There comes a time when we grow old." Unbroken shades ne'er traveled by the sun, Form barriers round a dark domain, Where Time's far-reaching stream shall never run Or measure death's unbreathing reign. Forgetfulness Hath come to bless, And pallid lips shall ne'er confess, ''There comes a time when we grow old." There comes a time when watchers thro' the night In silence wait the coming day, When ghostly tapers give their trembling light, 25 Cypress and Rose And hope and hearts alike decay. And then how dark! But, oh, the spark That onward guides the phantom bark Where we shall never more grow old. 26 Cypress and Rose THE ROSE OF PARADISE "DOCKED in the lily gossamer of sleep, That swayed betwixt my couch and paradise, I dreamed a dream of roses; And 'twere as tho' adown the lilac deep, Each star was linked with star across the skies, In bands of trailing roses. Soft echoes floated o'er rose-braided strands. That bade me seek the "Rose of Paradise," As from star to star I crossed ; But ever vain my search thro' silver lands, Till in the crescent wake of morning skies The phantom red rose was lost. Yet by thy side I dream another dream, And lo ! the rose I sought in paradise 27 Cypress and Rose Blooms upon thy rosy lips ! And stooping down, despite the willful gleam, I cull it, 'spite of thorns within thine eyes — Cull it from thy rosy lips. 28 Cypress a fid Rose SUSPENSE /^ HOURS that neither give despair nor joy, No smiles to bless or frowns that might destroy, Thou fiUest the dulled brain with sense of wrong. And weave a vain tale, tedious told and long. Thy leaden wings that mimic Hope's fond flight Tremblest in shadow-land beyond the sight, And soar aloft to mix with Heaven's blue, To sink again in grasses lush with dew ; But the disdain that paints thy ashen eyes, Nor melts beneath the prayer that o'er thee sighs. Will fade at last when cruel ghosts pursue, Inflicting all those ills which once they knew. 29 Cypress and Rose 30 TO MY LADYE FAIRE r\ LADYE FAIRE ! a hande has traced A Pycture for thine eyes, Withe tintes & lightes yt make it seeme A glympse of Paradyse. Noe sunlighte ever half e soe brighte 1 Noe skies yt seemed as blue ! Noe roses ever halfe soe sweete As in ys Pycture true ! Deare Love ! ye canvass is my Hearte ! Ye Paynter's hande is Love ! Thy presence is ye sunshine's warmth, Thine eyes ye skies above ! Cypress a fid Rose Thye lipps ye Rose withe honie wett, Thye handes ye blossoms pinke ! & Hope ye Frame withe Jewells sett Yt bidds me thus to thinke ! Yett since I cannott sende it Thee, As thus I male a Rhyme — O bidd me beare it companie To be thye Valentyne ! 31 Cypress and Rose CHASING BUTTERFLIES TT WAS another world, Nor were we yon and I ; It was another life, It was some other sky ; And these were other eyes. Nor were our hearts of clay — When we chased the butterflies In the Far-away. Now Earth and we have changed. But still a gaudy prize Doth urge the lagging step And fire the faded eyes. It is the endless race — The phantom of the brain — If won, too late to learn. The butterfly is slain. 32 Cypress and Rose But ever as we run, Our heart doth disbelieve, Yet still we may not pause, There is no word reprieve. "Twas Life in summer's guise, Reality in play — When we chased the butterflies In the Far-away. 33 Cypress and Rose WOULD HE RETURN? "CpORGOTTEN now the heart's hot wounds — • His friend might smite him on the cheek, And frozen lips would never speak, Nor anguish fix itself in sounds. If in the skies again were glassed The dreams the heart must lose at last, And Youth could call from lands long past. Would he return? Vain tears will never flood those eyes ; Loveless Love nor pale-faced Slander Draw no lightnings as they wander Adown the twilight of his skies. If dear ones beckoned thro' the gray And Love illumed his bloomless way, If tender voices pierced his clay, Would he return? 34 Cypress and Rose He will not hear the north winds rave, In summer time the golden bee Chants sweeter notes than Misery, And bramble roses hide his grave. If he recalled the vanished dread, And knew how soon his loved are dead — That he must seek the self-same bed. Would he return — Would he return? 35 Cypress and Rose REMEMBRANCE T THINK of thee When lily-cradled is the honey-bee, When red carnations woo the silver dew And waft their spices to the tulip tree. When thinkest thou of me? I think of thee By the purple coast-line that fades away, While the shimmering, milky sails speed on To kiss the rose lips of another day. Where thinkest thou of me? I think of thee With tear-lit eye and passion-haunted heart. Tempestuous longings that are never stilled For coming days when we shall never part. How thinkest thou of me? 36 Cypress and Rose TO THE LAST FLY 17 RAIL relic of the season fled! Why dost thou ling^er with us here? The moon is pale, the leaves are sere. Thy comrades numbered with the dead. Thy wanton ways thro' Summer days Were such as cannot be redressed. For painful mem'ries were impressed Throughout the early morning's gray. Listless guard of a vanished race ! Thy home the whitened window pane — The battle-field where hosts were slain That knew thee in thy youthful grace ; 37 Cypress and Rose Deem not I mourn thy fleeting stay, Nor waning power of tickling toes : Thou little thorn 'midst Summer's rose, I hail the night of thy brief day. 38 Cypress and Rose THE BOAT THAT NEVER WENT TO SEA npHE gray gulls gather on its sun-warped side, And then go drifting, drifting with the tide ; Miles out uncounted sails speck ocean's hue, As silver clouds embroider heaven's blue. Yet bird and sail that rise and fall, Tho' silent, ever seem to call The boat that never went to sea. A sigh, a sob, as from a heart of flame, Breathes up from one exiled from place and name. To careless hearts the wind but feigned a wail, O 'twas the dews that wet the evening sail. Yet to the tides that ebb and rise, Its ev'ry fiber moaned replies — This boat that never went to sea. 39 Cypress and Rose Ah ! happier to rot beneath the waves, O'ergrown with pale-green weeds of ocean caves ; Or. with the waters lasping o'er its deck, To lie forgotten on the beach — a wreck. Its keel has cleft the em'rald brine. Through changing wastes of storm and shine — Its sails are set, it went to sea. A skeleton footfall has crossed its hold, And "never" is written on canvas fold ; A phantom hand its rusty anchor cast. And a death-head grins on the mold'ring mast. Like hearts that love has never blest, No morn of joy — no twilight rest, The boat that never went to sea. 40 THE DEATH OF SUMMER THE DEATH OF SUMMER '"T^HE lucid inter-space of vivid blue, O'ershot with silver arrows from the Moon, Was stretched from world to world, a royal dome Above the hours, that girt with Paradise The meeting of the Summer and the Spring. Nor one there lived who heard them plight their troth, No priest intoned their bridal vows, yet Time From thousand silver tongues called out that they Were one. The winds, sun-steep'd at noon, and fed With honey'd dews at night ; the birds with notes As soft as harp that houri strings ; the buds 43 Cypress and Rose That gathered color day by day, within Their silent veins ; the leaves, and grass of green That waved an em'rald sea of dreamful ease, Were but the fruit of that deep love they knew. Yet came a morn so sweet 'twere Heaven born, When moan of doves in low-tongued laurel walks, And murmVing of innumerable bees, Awoke fair Summer's dreams to find the Spring Had flown, as tho' some fickle stripling's heart Were his, that wearied of the ardor's might His love had roused within his golden bride. But she whose heart was love and only love, Clasped close the children of their marriage-bed, And pressed them to her scarlet lips and sighed, "Alas, I have thee left ! Thou needest me ! Thou wilt forsake me never !" So the hours Sped onward, pausing but to count the days Upon the golden dial of the sun ; Till Summer's heavy heart grew light again, 44 Cypress a?id Rose For all the earth was beautiful with sights And sounds of those she loved, and called her own. O Happiness ! pale priestess of the mind ! Whose dripping- altar is the crimson heart, Thy incantations lead us ever on ; Or lending us thy secret for an hour, Thou ask its quick return, ere yet that hour Expires. For scarce had Summer drew a veil 'Twixt empty days and love's fond retrospect, To heal her lonely heart with that sweet love — The love she bore her children — ere a change Crept across the windy halls of Heaven ; The air was filled with gath'ring wings for flight; The leaves burned red with inward agony ; Harsh blew the winds, letting the rose leaves fall, And listless sunrise climbed disastrous noon, To early hide his wounds beneath the world. Then Summer sought to wile the lang'rous hours. And early rose to draw aside the cloth Of mist, that as a death-cloth lay upon The face of Earth ; and naught for greeting had 45 Cypress and Rose But wail of pain ; or stooping low above Some glazing eye, the yellow lid had fell Ere yet her kiss was cold upon their lips. Or with her tender arm around some form That trembled to its death, she plead with them To stay — to leave her not, for they were all She had to love. But one by one they fled, Beyond the haunts of life, and love, and pain ; To where a cloud ne'er creeps across the blue. Or blows the softest wind, or fiercest storm, Or falls the slightest silver star of rain. Or mounts the lowest moan of earthly woe, To mar the everlasting space of death. Then as some wounded thing that seeks to hide Its hurt, the Summer crept away alone. The stony face of Time were not more set, More cold, than hers of speechless agony ; The dolphin's death, with whom each pang imbues A brighter tint than was the one before, 46 Cypress and Rose Was not more lovely than the silent heart That throb'd and quivered with each color new That marked the slow disease and death of hope. Ah! then were this the goal of life and love? Afar off when the dark, dissolving heart Beat thick with passion, or upon the winds Were borne the wails of motherhood, no voice Sighed thro' the distance and the hues of day To hint of loneliness, despair, and night. O for a flash from out the gilded hours That lay far up the highlands of the past ! O for a whisper from lips that were still ! Ere yet she too must mingle with the dust, The dreadful dust that once was loving hearts ; Thus moaned the Summer's heart, when lo ! a voice- So sad, so sweet, 'twere as a memory That threw its silver shadow in a dream — Did call, and wake to momentary flame The fading embers of her dying breast ; And gazing up the freezing orb beheld The lover of her Youth — the vanished Spring, 47 Cypress and Rose Now russet-bearded — grown to Autumn-time. "O was it but a dream ? O then sweet dream Be perfect — stay ! and seem to fold me close Unto thy heart ! — to kiss me ere I die !" As spirits meet, and clasp to say "Farewell" Upon some last and fading star — they met ; Her cheek of lily hue joined his of brown, And whisp'ring "Once more," in his arms she died. 48 Cypress and Rose SERENADE CKIES of the Summer night! High o'er my lady's heart, Hide, hide thy purple light! She dreams ! My lady dreams ! Breeze of the Summer night ! Soft o'er my lady's heart, Fold, fold thy pinions light! She dreams! My lady dreams ! Seas of the Summer night ! Far from my lady's heart, Rock, rock in silver light ! She dreams ! My lady dreams ! 49 Cypress and Rose Dreams of the Summer night! Breathe of her lover's heart, While yet in slumber light — She dreams ! My lady dreams ! 50 Cypress and Rose THE LAST GOOD-BYE ' I * HE birds were still, the skies were those of night, Yet from the darkness not a sigh Or echo reached us from the farther flight To say it was our last good-bye. "When next we part 'twill be by morning's light, And not this gloom, for farewells try The stoutest heart." 'Twas this we said while bright The tear-drops lit our last good-bye. But now I know that gloom enshadowed sight. The silent birds, the stifled cry, Tho' black and still, yet whispered to the night — Behold ! it is their last good-bye ! 51 Cypress and Rose Each careless, happy word I said so light Doth hurt me now, and I but cry "O God ! why could I not have known that night That it must be our last good-bye !" We would not have it so. tho' it were right ; We would have clung and wept, and I Would followed weeping, wailing in the night, When we had said our last good-bye. 52 Cypress and Rose LOVE T OVING thro' clouds that mask his stern pur- port, Love bends to earth from orbs of Paradise, To draw each quiv'ring human heart to his And bear them to his dreamlit bridal skies*. In his grave eyes are glassed another world. As silver streams reflect the lily moon ; And self-dulled ears are dead to alien sounds As stilly hours forget the noisy noon. Upborne on glit'ring wings to other spheres, Faint, far-off the guardian echoes fall, Across the storm and over Eden seas To every star of space, that "Love is all." 53 Cypress and Rose AT LAST ' I *HE day that thou wast born, A home was made for thee,- Thou mayst not reach it soon, Yet waiting it will be. Beneath the green sea waves, Or 'neath the placid lake, The builder of this house His narrow space may take. On burning desert sands. Far, far from all mankind, Or 'neath the polar sky. This home thou yet shall find. And tho' long years may glide Into eternity. Before thou canst perceive 54 Cypress and Rose This home where e'er it be, Tho' thou mayst look with dread Upon its yawning door, Or gladly welcome it. As some one gone before, — No welcome face is there, No kindly hand to greet, — In solitude profound, This home you silent meet. As tho' thy strength were spent, With long-drawn weary sigh. Thou sinkest down to sleep, And evermore shall lie ; The door securely closed. Each window shut and barred. Safe from all intruders As tho' thou hadst a guard ; On, on, from year to year, By chance to never roam, Unconscious of the world, Thou dwellest there alone. 55 Cypress and Rose POND LILIES AXT'ITH golden hearts half hid 'neath creamy white, On stilly waters of the lake they lie Thro' all the day; But when unfurl the olive vans of Night, They close beneath the vapor-braided sky. And dream of day ; So tho' thy thoughts, while yet the sun may shine. Shall circle sternest orbs of Life, nor pause To think of me ; Yet when thy heart doth rest beneath the line Of sleep, as unseen hand the lily draws — Ah, dream of me ! 56 Cypress and Rose THE CUP OF HATE /^NCE, when the moon in winding sheets of white Was sinking, far across a ghostly sea> When darkness hid the phantoms weeping blood, "Tell me," thou said'st, "how great thy love for me?" All dark and darker grew the sleeping world, And darker still the shadows at our side, While moaned the sea to unresponsive shores. As one who speaks in sleep my lips replied — "Some measure love by life, By time unending or the boundless sky, But I — I love thee so That I could'st still thy heart if love should die." 57 Cypress and Rose Words, fatal words, that shaped the pangs of Hell, Doubts, wretched doubts, thy love needs lull to rest- Not all the world we thought could part us then, Or turn to truth what was an idle jest. Now, in thy grave, and I of earth despised, Know well the hidden meaning — you and I — Veiled in the darkness and the moaning sea, And in the words I spoke, and knew not why : "Some measure love by life, By time unending or the boundless sky, But I — I love thee so That I could'st still thy heart if love should die." 58 Cypress and Rose NOVEMBER RAIN \\/^ITH ceaseless step upon the darkened sill, With ghostly finger-tap on misty pane, The rain-witch entrance begs to warmth and light. To melt away beneath the mournful rain — The long, low, whisp'ring rain. At dim star-palaces of Happiness, The human heart is pleading thro' the years. For faintest recognition from within. To melt away beneath the falling tears — The soft, despairing tears. 59 Cypress and Rose THE NUN Th^ASTING and faint she lies on cold cell stones Thro' olive dusk of ghostly fading hours ; From summits of her soul her spirit cries To Christ, yet from the valleys of her heart Her lover's voice she hears above her own. Half choked in drifts of yellow water-smoke, The red moon creeps from 'neath the under world. And paints Titanic shapes on convent walls. That lift their sightless eyes and monstrous shafts 'Gainst unseen foes of night, to melt away As broken spirits waste across the air. The night deepens ; a star that eastward sprang 60 Cypress and Rose Is lost in silver paths of flight the moon Hath wove ; the heavy-folded rose is rocked In dreams ; the wind hath sighed itself to sleep. Soft cradled on the lily's fragrant breast ; Ah! when shall slumber seal her eyes? O Soul ! Take wings and scale the sun-steep'd heights thy heart Would reach, yet stay and know the with'ring might Of that same sun ! O feet with manacles Thy will hath wrought, but linger here and tread Yon molten rocks, and ragged thorns, thine eyes Discerned not from below ! and looking back To thy gray life and apathetic end, Know ye the cross thy tears have wet, thy heart Hath sunk beneath, are mimic emblems there Of all the pain that Love must suffer here. And when athwart thy dreams come back the hours In which thy soul still seeks to soar above Thy heart, yet find'st naught but empty sky ; The hours that carr}^ thee so far from earth, 61 Cypress and Rose And leave thee faint at Heaven's phantom door, Where as some lost and storm-tost bird that breasts The rocks to find its rest, thou beat'st thy wings In vain — Ah ! when those hours come back to thee, Ask of thyself, thy mufifled life, where thou Would'st rather dwell. Uncoffined and unknelled The Virgin Moon hath sunk to open grave Adown the skies ; from out the distant gloom A breeze begins to move the cypress leaves, And radiate the still perfume of hearts That dream within the flowers, or lightly stirs The veil of sleep — dusk veil so feebly strung Twixt death and that which those who life call life. Thro' narrow latticed window shines the star — The star of Love, the moon hath lately hid, And with its golden finger gilds each bar That falls aslant her breast in bands of black And bars of opal light, and softly rests 62 Cypress and Rose A holy hand above the fair yoiingr head Unpillowed save the cross ; and all the rest Lost in the sfloom and silence of the cell. 63 Cypress a fid Rose FOR SAYNTE VALENTYNE, HIS DAYE PPLYE, little sheete of paper, & tel her yt I tliinke Iff quills were dipt in honie Tnsteade of ys colde inke ; Ifif vellum tinged withe roses, From out ye olden age, Were mine to write my love on, Inn place of ys white page ; Iff some one had dyscovered A system new of signs, To pycture forth my hearte withe, Insteade of formall lines. My love would surely see How deare she is to me 1 64 Cypress and Rose Yett, since these things cannott be, I will not keepe thee here, But sende thee poor & plainlie To one I love most deare. Haste little leafe & tel her. Ye thoughts I write on you. While twixt ye lines doth linger. Those words we never knew ! My hearte enduring parchment Where she unconscious wrote, Goe tel her ys & more too, With low & gentle note — Goe tel ye secrett line Aly love's her Valentyne ! iB Cypress and Rose THE HONEYMOON /^'ER dimpled crests with rose-tip't breasts, A fairy bark is skimming With the breeze ; In other spheres are doubts and fears, For fires of love are rimming All the seas. No pilot steers, no rocks are feared. And rainbow tints are gliding Into one ; While from afar the nodding star, Behind the clouds is hiding With the sun. 66 Cypress and Rose The rudest waves the craft must brave Are sapphire ripples dying O'er the deep ; The whisp'ring wind no art can bind, For it is Cupid sighing In his sleep. On the sea a golden hue, In the sky a summer blue, While is mirrored back the strain, Love is lord of all domains. Brightly dark and darkly pure, Love the fading lands obscure, While is echoed this refrain, Love is lord of all domains. In the heart there is a pearl Stamped upon the happy world. Paradise retells the strain, Love is lord of all domains. 67 Cypress and Rose The silken sail can never fail, As thro' the mists they're speeding In a dream ; And cold the heart that hints a dart, Or calls unto their heeding Em'rald gleam. O lovelit hours, the heart empowers To throw its haunting beauty Over all ; To clothe in gold the new and old, That ne'er the thoughts of duty E'er recall. Enchanted days, yet as they gaze, The outside world is calling All too soon; Tho' Love remains the sweetest gain, It brings no more enthralling Honeymoons. 68 Cypress and Rose SERENADE J^ HE lilies chant upon the water's breast A litany the waves but understand. While o'er each yellow heart the stars keep watch — L'nending watch from out a shoreless land. Now hath the Earth, with sweet alarm, began To yield her beauty to the Night's embrace. While high above their nuptial bed the moon Hangs out her lamp to bless their resting place. Thou art the lily on my heart's full tide, And Love the star that watches over thee ; Ah ! haste the hour when as the Earth thou shalt Yield all thy beauty and thyself to me. 69 Cypress and Rose FORGETFULNESS. VX/'HERE the breathless echoes falter, Where the sun forgets to rise, Far across a misty chasm, Never bridged by human eyes ; Beyond the utmost flights of Hope, O'er the frozen seas of Dread, Where dull forebodings ever sleep, In the charnels of the dead — Broods Forgetfulness. Under the arch of Destiny, Dusky vapors fold and swim. Where cloud-dipt echoes ever chant — All he knew forgetteth him. While ever o'er the vanquished past, 70 Cypress and Rose And across the broken bond, An unseen hand in silence waves The dull mysterious wand Of Forgetfulness. Some Lethe's draught that Heaven brews, Naked essence floating free. The parched lips of Life may drain, As it hears the dread decree. Tho' no dull enchantment lingers — Glimpses of forgotten dreams, The dim funereal tapers May be Eden's distant gleams Beyond Forgetfulness. 71 Cypress and Rose THE SONG OF THE SHELL I T tNNUMBERED miles from shore, I hold a shell That ceaseless music makes, as if the sound Of Summer-tides had endless echoes left Within. That song the distant waves once taught Can never be forgotten, or unsung ; And if, methinks, the shell should shattered lie, Each part would whisper still, tho' brokenly, Of its far home — the sea. Within my heart. Sweet maid, there is a dearer song than this, Learned long ago of thee, and tho' the way Between us seems impassable and fixed, It hath no end, but chanteth on and on. Of its far love as this lost shell the sea. 72 Cypress and Rose THE SONG OF THE SHELL II T TNNUMBERED miles from shore a shell I found That ceaseless music made, as if the sound Of Summer-tides had endless echoes wrought Within. That song the distant waves once taught Can never be forgot, and if the shell Should shattered lie, each part, methinks, would tell, Tho' brokenly, of its far home — the sea. Beloved ! there is a dearer song to me Than aught the shell may know. A song my heart Once learned of you ; and, tho' all far apart Our way, it chanteth on and on of thee, As this lost shell low singeth of the sea. 73 THE QUEST THE QUEST 9 '^T EATH ashen skies that were the temple's roof, On altar steps that were the hueless ground, A Hindoo mother knelt before her priest — A prostrate form of supplicating woe. No perfumed altar-flame o'erspread the dark. No shrine of fretted gems had called her there. Yet sought the mother's heart a precious boon That marble mosques and vaulted domes of gold Could never give. Her voice plead not for wealth Or power, nor for an errant husband's love. But for the little one's departed life, 77 Cypress and Rose Who lay as cold and still upon her breast As frozen bud upon a midnight stream. The very leaves o'erhead grev/ mute with grief, The wind struck minor chords on phantom harps And swayed the scarlet poppies near, until With bended heads they shed upon the earth The tears that heaven had but wept o'er them. Yet to the wild appeal the silent priest Opposed no words of comfort or relief, But motionless as graven idol stood, With eyes that sought the dim horizon line. As if in that pale band that linked a world Of day and night, he fain would read and learn The secret of that other dusky band Of Death, that linked the worlds of light and dark. An instant's pause, and then a flower he plucked, A single poppy bloom from em'rald stem, And held it in his hand, as tho' within Its vermeil heart were answers to her cries — The universal cry that ne'er can cease, For lips that utter it and silent grow, 78 Cypress and Rose In that same silence bid another mourn. "Take thou this flower." he said in tones that bade The heart still hope, yet pierced the soul with dread, "Seek where thou wilt, in this or lands that know Thee not, and when thou canst but bring a flower Like this to me, that bloomed within the home Where death has never come, I then wilt do A lesser deed than thou and give thee back Thv child." Up rose the mother ; had a voice From Heaven whispered she should have her child Again, a sweeter hope, a deeper joy Could not have filled her heart. The dusky face So lately drawn with pain, grew beautiful. And blessings fell from trembling, swollen lips ; Yet he who bade her hope now answered, "Nay ! But stay thy words till thy dear wish be thine. And leave thy child with me ; yet, when thou hast The poppy bloom thou seekest for, thy child 79 Cypress and Rose I give to thee again, but light will be Within his eyes, and warmth within his heart, And 'Mother' on his lips." Then with the flower Above her heart the mother stole away, As one who treads a darkened path, yet sees But just beyond, the gates of Paradise Swing wide for her. The starlight dim revealed A hundred citadels and minarets. And scores of masts that flickered on the bay, Yet she would not have changed her new-born hope For all their gems or bales of priceless goods. She almost felt the clasp of tender arms About her neck, the baby's gentle breath Upon her cheek. O that the morn were here ! That she her search of love might then begin ! Nor long, nor far must she needs look, for homes Of pariah and salim smiled alike With drowsy poppy flowers. 80 Cypress and Rose And when the sun Far-furrowing in light the eastern sky Had gilded dewey-tasseled woods and fields In liquid gold, the mother went her way. On, on, nor dared at first the simple quest To make, then paused, and asked a single bloom ; 'Twas her's — but stay! "Has death e'er came to thee Or thine?" Death ! death ! ay, death had come to them Nor scarce a year since one most dear had died. Then on the mother passed, yet by the road She dropped the crimson flower they had but gave. And ev'rywhere the same ; the blood-red sun Of morning hours, crept higher in the skies ; His golden lips that breathed of naught but Love, Now shaped another word and that was Pain, And shriv'ling as he sped adown the day They murmured Death, and still she only held The flower the priest had gave. The gay had sighed In answer to her eager questionings, SI Cypress and Rose And pointed afar off with trembling hand, To where a loved one slept the years away. Or yet again, some one of saddened mein Had led her to the darkened room of death, Or showed some trifling thing of little worth Perchance, or grand, but all that now remained Of one who once had lived, and loved, and died. And now the lonely night had come again ; With heart oppressed, with weary limbs and weak- She sank beside the road. The first bright bloom Of hope was gone, as when upon the grape The tender bloom impalpable is brushed By careless hands away, to come no more, The bloom gone, but the rich, dark fruit still there. For hope was yet her own. The night bird's call Across the citron trees, ne'er seemed so sad, So strange, unto her list'ning heart, as now. As tho' it were a wounded soul that cried, 82 Cypress and Rose Its helpless cry, athwart the gloom of death. Ah! death was such a common thing! Mayhap She yet must look for days before her child Would sleep upon her breast, and thinking thus She sank to troubled dreams. Soft blew the winds With muffled sighs above the lonely heart, And cypress trees that stood their solemn guard Re-echoed but a sigh. A score, and yet A score of mornings, breathed their crimson breath Across her brow, and broader grew to noon, That burned itself away to tropic night; Star after star swam thro' the evening deeps, To melt away before advancing day. And still she wandered on. But now the flower That once outrivaled sunset's ruddy hour, And dripped the sweetened dew, had drooped and paled, 83 Cypf'ess and Rose Till ashen-gray replaced its vivid hue — Fit emblem of the dying- hope that urged Her on. And yet despair that once was her's Was fading with the hope, for she had seen A thousand homes as desolate as hers, And pausing but to ask a poppy bloom. Had entered in and soothed a broken heart ; And lulling grief that stretched a million arms From ev'ry side, she half forgot her own, "Till once again she stood before the priest ; The sunlight wove a gossamer of gold About the wasted form, and softly touched, With angel tenderness, the empty hands. Save but a withered bloom, so gray, so parched. One might not guess its name. Again she knelt. And at his feet she laid the withered flower, x^s one who says "Farwell," yet welcomes Peace 84 Cypress and Rose With that same breath that bade adieu to Hope ; While tones so low 'twere as a spirit voice, That trembled from an altar in the skies, Breathed soft above the chastened heart : "Thy loss Is loss for but an hour, nor in that hour It shall be wholly loss to thee, for thou Hast learned thy sighs were as a passing' breath, That for a moment swells eternal storms, Thy tears were as a drop on shoreless seas. And thy heart stricken dumb with agony Were as a glim'ring light that fades among The illim'table worlds that shine above." Once more the priest is silent, once again His eyes have sought the far horizon line, But now it is a golden band of light. That, keeping ere its secret, still had gave A golden lesson to a human heart. 85 Cypress and Rose SONG '^TOW drift the lilies on the languid lake, And marble fountains murmur low of thee; The dusky palms are nodding in their sleep ; Waken the Pleiads ; waken thou with me. Now dreams the Earth 'neath passion-weighed lids, Of her tempestuous lover in the sky ; Now faint and sweet the Summer night-winds call, And Paradise is whispered in a sigh. Now streams the opal light in cypress walks, And bids the agate-footed shadows flee; Now all the world lies on the breast of Night, And all my heart lies open unto thee. 86 SONGS OF THE SEASONS MY LADY TV/TY LADY frowns — and a crescent of eclipse, Falls upon the brow and lips, And dims the happy skies ; While the mountains weave a mesh of tearful pearls, Throw it far across the world And breathe their grief in sighs. My lady smiles — and the heart of purple hills, Beat beneath the loosened rills In dim delicious lands ; While lavish lights and floating emerald shades Paint the gray-clad oaken glades In trailing, fickle bands. 89 Cypress and Rose My lady scolds — and shrill trebles palpitate Where the gusty breezes wait And ruffs the robin's wing. My lady's name? — swells the cuckoo's viewless flute, While the blue-bird's reed-like lute Re-echoes, "It is Spring.'' 90 Cypress and Rose I KNEW VITHEN gray-eyed Hesper early called the day, And marble arms had claspt the land and sea, When pearly foes obstructed all the way — I asked my heart if thou remembered me. When in my dreams thy rosy finger-tips Have drawn my whole heart backward unto thee, Have held me close to thine impassioned lips — I mutely asked when thou would'st come to me. When curlews dipt their wings in loosened wave, And swallow-flights were lost in heaven's sea; When pink acacias sweetest perfume gave — I knew that thou wer't coming then to me. 9J Cypress and Rose When tulips kis't the slumber-laden hours, And March-winds sighed across the dawn for thee ; When budded peaks were lost in rose-lit showers — I knew that thou wer't coming- then to me. When ruby plumelets hid the almond trees, And twinkling em'ralds gemmed the drowsy lea : When daisies notched with gold the tender breeze — I knew that thou wer't coming then to me. At eve when flushed thy cheek with Love's own hue, And oleanders set their spices free ; When fountains flung their diamond drifts anew — I knew that thou had'st not forgotten me. When golden lights were drawn across the sky. And rose-carnations fed the humming-bee ; When darkling brooks were bubbling softly by — I knew the Summer-time had come to me. 92 Cypt'ess a fid Rose FAREWELL A SPIRIT haunts the crimsoned glade, And weaves a veil of pansy shade, Above the russet trees ; A gold enchantment steeps the land. The far-off sails are faintly fan'd By warm, voluptuous seas. The deep moon-colored beech complains As dappled clouds dissolve the rains That kiss her overbold ; But stormy cohorts quickly fly Far away to an alien sky. And dip their wings in gold. 93 Cypress and Rose The air is filled with wings for flight; A softened gray o'erspreads the light Where reedy currents flow. The drowsy aster sheds its bloom Athwart the purple blossomed gloom, And fair scenes fainter grow. Sweeter than rose-red lips of June, O changing hours ! why go so soon, And all this dream dispel? But ringing to a slow-set bell The dying Autumn's answer fell — Farewell — farewell — farewell. 94 Cypress ana Rose THE END :ehold How short the line, Tho' linked with crimson gold, That measured out the Summer-time ! The dewy North scarce whispered to the gracious skies, Ere darkened all the way, and death was in her eyes. Alas ! The flame-winged days, They come and slide and pass. In endless succession of Mays ! Nor silent meteors that die in yonder sky. Find graves so infinite as time that passes by. <)5 Cypress and Rose How soon The new-born year Attains the full-aged noon, Whose light slants o'er a whitened bier! Nor scarce have we begun to live — to apprehend, Ere it is Winter-time, ere yet it is the End. 96 YOU AND I YOU AND I. T 'LL sing you a song, my love, Only a Winter's song, Yet all about the Summer-time, When the days were long. All about the Summer-time We thought could never die. When we walked beneath the maples- You and I. I'll sing it so sweet, my love, Tho' it is dark and cold, You will think of the pleasant hour, And the roses' fold. L. or U. 99 Cypress and Rose You will think of scent and song, And of the morning's sky, When we walked beneath the maples — You and I. I'll sing it so sad, my love, Amid the Winter's hue, You'll think my poor heart's full of pain, When it's only true. True to the sunny Summer days. The roses and the sky, When we walked beneath the maples — You and I. )00 UNWRITTEN UNWRITTEN As some far sight beyond the eyes, No pen details or artist's note. Approaching but to melt mist-like — The song he never wrote. Or yet a bird of swiftest flight, That knew no rest by land or boat. But hovering low with broken wing — The song he never wrote. A jeweled harp that useless lay. With chords no human hand had smote. That whispered to the whispering winds The sons: he never wrote. 103 Cypress and Rose But once in half-awakened dreams The land drew nigh he loved so well, The bird flew by on mended wing, The harp awoke with joyous swell. O, pulse of life and death outlived ! O bliss and joy that caught the note ! For now he sang with quivering voice The song he never wrote ! A song that knew not earthly rules, That rose and fell in heavenly bars, Whose sweetness touched the human heart, Whose echoes swept the stars ; The end so bright no heart need hope, And O how near tho' named remote ! All this and more he told within The song he never wrote. t04 Cypress and Rose One night he died, and at his tomb, Friends weeping said with shaken breath, "Dear God ! the songs he sang for us Can know no grave — no death !" But one out-lingered all the rest, Whose love up-swelled from heart and throat, And to the gloom he sighed, "Alas! The songs he never wrote !" Each shackle broken — free at last. Now Love and Hate had lost their name, Regret a story — Hope out-run, And Sorrow gone on wings of flame. The soul the same, yet not the same, Low whispered to the glowing skies, "O, once I thought to sing on earth The songs of Paradise!" 105 Cypress and Rose O, ecstacy ! eternal — sweet ! The stars rang out to farthest mote- At last he sings before his God The song he never wrote. )M HELOISE Cypress and Rose HELOISE npHE evening voices faintly hum, As if the organist in some Cathedral vast, on minor key, Filled dim-lit space with holy theme, So low, so sweet, 'twere Heaven's dream Made radiant with thoughts of thee. The dew-drops on the petals shake, And trembling deeper down, they make Within the lilies' heart a sea ; And looking there I fondly trace The reflex of a phantom face, That midnight whispers name as thee. 109 Cypress and Rose Voluptuous winds, as sweet as lies The darkness on the weary eyes. Blow inland from the sleeping sea ; With musk of roses on their lips, Sabaean spice that lightly drips, They pause and give thy name to me. Within the heart are spirits twain, The one is Love, the other Pain, And both are whisp'ring, dear, of thee. Sweets of the night, like palms of prayer. All sacred touch her brow and hair, And say my heart doth follow thee. no O DOUBTING HEART Cypress and Rose O DOUBTING HEART AX^HY must the roses die? Scattered they lie On the cold earth unmindful of our sighs. O doubting heart! Soon the snow-white curtains of sleep Will be lost in the loosened deep, And the heart of the roses leap To waft their spices to the summer skies. Where have the blue-birds flown ? Freezing and blown Perchance across some dark and rock-ribbed shore. O doubting heart! Far away in a sun-clasped land Cypress and Rose Where the magnoHa's heart is fanned By winds from o'er the mellow sand, They only wait to come to thee once more. The day is dead, and light is drowned in night. And shoreless is the ocean of Despair. O doubting heart ! These hueless clouds the sun will rent. For Nature's crimson tide hath sent The pulse of Hope thro' discontent, And morning carolings awake the air. n4 love's league LOVE'S LEAGUE ■p\REAMING fancies held me captive, Binding fast with unseen hands, Misty visions hovered near me. Breathing low of other lands ; When gentle tappings at my door, Roused my heart and bid me rise. Still some hidden power controlled me. Held me there with magic ties. On mellow waves of sound were borne, A voice of silvery tone, Cypress and Rose Begging for a speedy entrance, Pleading that he was alone. Ah ! well I knew 'twas Love that spoke- A sense of triumph thrilled me, "Oh, Cupid ! thou at last should learn That I can live without thee." At my answer voice and rapping As by magic died away. Then I fancied I had vanquished. And was victor of the day, When on the window pane I heard The sound of fluttering wing, And in tones so sweetly whispered, "Happiness to thee I bring." "Dolores form in fairest guise! How oft I bid thee turn away, Yet still thy stifled cry I hear. Thro' Winter's cold and Summer's stay. U8 Cypress and Rose Will coming- years dispel thy power? Or Death alone destroy thine art? Howe'er it be, record this vow. My will shall master yet my heart." With puzzled look and saddened mein In silence Cupid left me. But burning heart in anguish felt This parting had bereft me. Yet once again without the door A moaning voice beseeched me, "I am humbled, bruised and banished. For love has never reached thee. "In pity open wide thy door. One brief moment let me rest, When you bid me I will vanish. And shall leave thee not unblessed." 119 Cypress and Rose Cautiously the door I opened, In flew Love with gleeful shout ; Leagued with Pity he had won me, And I ne'er could turn him out. 130 DECEMBER DECEMBER "^TIGHTWINDS trail from mountain peaks, Cushioned pavement hoarsely creaks Beneath the feet of passers by; Smiles the fire with ruby lips, While the moments mutely slip. Far up the stairway of the sky ; The light burns low, The clock ticks slow, The old year wavers — softly goes With December. )23 THE GOAL IS BUT A LITTLE WAY Cypress and Rose THE GOAL IS BUT A LITTLE WAY np HE wind and waves the rack before them sweeping-. But pause at last as weary warriors sleeping. Beneath eternal eyes of peace and rest ; Yet Youth and Heart athwart existence ranging. In quest of Hope's star-palaces unchanging. Flit'st ever on while we repeat the jest — The Goal is but a little way. The bugle-call of Power its challenge sending. As shriek of the storm-king when black skies rending, Blows reveille on dusty fields of care : As Glory from her height our hopes beguiling, 127 Cypress and Rose Doth hide defeat behind a mask that's smiling, And points to where beyond the battle's glare — The Goal is but a little way. Tho' Fame's shrill blast and Love's fond breath are still, We onward urge the sick, despairing will, So lonely now the shaded way hath grew ; And struggling in the quicksands of our death We bid farewell and say with fading breath, Not here — alas ! — my heart doth tell me true — The Goal is but a little way. m DON PANCHO •Thero never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven. The patient search and vigil long* or him who treasures up a wrong." PART ONE DON PANCHO A Spanish Tale \\7 HEN Moorish palaces of Cadiz g-leamed, In all the glory of their far-ofif prime — When white-faced turrets on the city walls, Still sig"ned the sails across the sea to come, There dwelt but just beyond its battled towers A scion of an ancient house of Spain, Whose entrance at the Plaza de Lorine Was signal for a thousand cheeks to burn, For maiden eyes to droop, or glance beyond }35 Cypress and Rose The bloody fight that called them there ; a man Whose presence rare in darkened vestibule. Or dim cathedral aisle, but boded ill To some fair devotee the fane within — From whom the priest his waterbrush withdrew As from a fiend ; a chieftain self-exiled, Whose heart was fearless as 'twas false, that drew- As steel the lightnings draw — the smothered curse Of Weakness, and the open hate of Power. No empty heritage his titled name, For scores of ships that lay within the bay Or traversed dim-marked ocean roads, were his ; And olive groves and valley vineyards paid An endless tribute to his hated name, iU Cypress and Rose While distant on the shore but scarce a mile From Cadiz, glowed the marble collonades, And silvered domes that marked his palace home — A home across whose gates some hand had traced In blood that would not pale — that all might read : ''^Who enters here their honor leaves behind!*^ Within these gates the fountains clove the air With mellow monotones, thro' all the year, And myriad blooms that smiled, yet smiling sighed, Thro' sultry noon, ere hung their heads with grief And wept a thousand tears when night bent low Above the hideous revels of their lord. 'Twas here he idled thro' the noontide hour. Or basked beneath the awnings in the court ; 137 Cypress and Rose 'Twas here a thousand tapers flashed afar Athwart the midnight gloom, on strains upborne Of Bachanalian song and barb'rous dance ; 'Twas here the morning sun the end beheld Of orgies, such as ne'er the dawn had lit Since with his debauchees Comodus hailed The coming day. With sin to science raised, And Vice with rhuemy eyes and canc'rous tongue The only power his wayward heart would own, Don Pancho lived a life apart from man, Yet never more alone than in the midst Of guilty revelries and feasts profane. As some lost star that vainly tries to light )38 Cypress and Rose An endless universe of ashen gloom Above, beneath, Don Lara's voice alone Was raised against the multitude that held Don Pancho as an outcast in their midst. A thousand times had Cadiz questioned "Why?" For Lara was a blameless man in all Save strangest friendship for the libertine ; And some there were that deemed the bony hand Of Debt ere bound him to allegiance base, Or yet again that Pancho exercised Some fatal fascination o'er his friend — Some evil power uncanny as 'twas strong — That held him to his side, unwilling slave. The rising sun with crimson lips absorbed The dew-drenched dusk, and climbed the wind-swept stairs J39 Cypress and Rose Of Heaven, that ere led to night beyond ; Upon her azure couch, twixt stilly earth And trembling stars beyond, the moon awoke In turn to pale before advancing day ; As pulsing rainbow o'er some chosen land The Summer glowed and vanished in the air To bend again its colored arch across The earth, but subtle cause that linked these two. Knew not the changes all the world must know. As tho' it were a thing of other worlds — To live in darkness and to end in gloom. Till Cadiz ceased to wonder or to care, Nor were surprised when 'twas announced thro' Spain That Pancho was to wed Don Lara's child — }40 Cypress and Rose The young and lovely Donna Isabella: Nor Pancho need implore the father's will To bend the daughter's fancy to his own, For it was whispered in the marble courts On either side the Calle Ancha's pave, And on the Alameda's shaded walks — "She loves her father's friend." , If e'en at first Don Pancho pledged his troth unmarred by plot Of shame, none other tongue than his could tell. Yet ere the roses paled and fell to earth That listened to avowal of his love, A change crept o'er him, as the darkness creeps Across the day ; and as some priest of Night. HI Cypress and Rose Of dark Despair — that knew no morn, no hope — He led his victim to the sacrifice, And whispered on the altar steps that Hell Was Paradise. Yet Love survived the death Of Innocence, that in its weakness knew No will, no voice with power to wound or soothe. Or hand, tho" but a traitor's, that could lead Save his, and ere the gossips yet had breathed Of ruin, dawned the day that startled all With tidings of elopement of the twain. Don Lara, overwhelmed 'twixt grief and shame — For ne'er before Dishonor's hand had traced )42 Cypress and Rose That word Disgrace o'er their historic name — Became as one who, living, yet is past All mirth or woe ; with mind responding less To scorn or praise than frozen wave to winds That harshly blow; with heart that, shunning all, Yet loathing self the most, and doomed to feel An endless tide sweep backward from above. Of tears unwept — unseen — undried. The voice Of Blame, or tongue to sympathy attuned. Alike were passed unheeded by, or heard As one might hear an echo in a dream. Nor yet he sought redress from earthly powers For superhuman pangs, for law was vain. And kings too weak to give to him again 143 Cypress and Rose The child of other days. All Cadiz sighed And breathed betrayer's name to cross their breast, As when they syllabled the fiend himself; And high and low recalled the fair-faced girl As one recalls the dead, to speak the good And all the ill forget; yet hearts, tho' mute, Ere named Don Lara's friendship for the man — ■ Whose name was e'en forbade in virtue's home — As fatal stepping-stone o'er which his child Had crossed to death. And not alone to death That yet may feel the crimson stream of life Press on below, for scarce a year had fled Ere tidings from the distant East confirmed 144 Cypress and Rose That other death. Mayhap the guilty hand That led her to the far-off, lonely grave Was clasped by dymg hands, and eyes uplooked Of deathless love in his, while weak'ning voice But breathed liis name with tenderness ; mayhap Upon his breast the tides of life went out To sea, and to the last the lover's kiss Was pressed upon her lips. But to her sire No word of meagre comfort came, no sign By which to read the end, nor voice to speak Beyond the silent fact of death. Nor mind Nor heart might longer then endure, for hours 145 Cypress and Rose The darkest still were lit by shifting rays Of hope that he might clasp his child again, And e'en forgiving all forgiveness claim. For as some tree the lightnings doubly scathe He died. The days, forgetting other days, Doffed gilded cap of morn for silver shoon Of rtight, in turn to mix with retrospect That softened lay a thing of other lands : Yet braided thro' the days that sped to death — As one dark strand amid a band of gold — Was gloomy memory of Pancho's sins. And Lara's death. 146 Cypress and Rose Hidalgo, prince and slave In undertones alike rehearsed the tale, As tho' this double treachery bespoke A heart more black than aught of humankind. Till with the days that were no more it ceased The present mind with past events to bind. 147 PART 1 W O PART II But midst a million souls that half forgot Don Pancho and his sins, was gloomy heart Of one, from which no time might ere efface The impress of his crimes ; one, high among The holy order of Franciscan monks, Whose sunken eyes beheld seducer's face, Tho' closed in prayer the altar shrine before, Who heard above the matins of the morn, And vesper bells at eve, a sister's wail — A father's sigh. J5J Cypress and Rose As worldly hearts might hold The image of a love forever lost, Of wasted years, or long departed youth, The Padre of the Holy Cross retained The fatal memory of his ruined home — His sister's fall, her death — the father's end. When morn was gold, when eve was silver-gray, Or night was leaden o'er a sleeping world, His prayers arose to far-ofif, silent skies, Imploring there the justice long delayed On him who mocked the dangers of His wrath. "Thou has said, 'Vengeance is mine,' " cried the monk ; "O ! then this wretched life of mine prolong Till Thy offended majesty above, And open graves within this heart below, )52 Cypress and Rose Are vindicated by eternal Right! And if Thou needest earthly instrument — Behold ! Thy servant waits to do Thy will !" But months grew into years, and cloister walls Were not more mute than Voice he plead to hear, And blackened doubts if he was heard by Him Began to crush the heart already broke, When suddenly as he had disappeared, Don Pancho to his native town returned. Once more the Moorish palace knew its lord, Once more carousals vext the midnight ear, While Pancho's name became a brand of shame On him, or her, who halted at his gates. J53 Cypress and Rose Yet gilded crime that reigned unchecked within Had charmed with all the potency of sin Those chemic hearts more weak than they were false- Had vict'ries gained that armies might not dare — Till rumors of his late arrival home, His fresh iniquities and triumphs new, Had penetrated the Monastic walls That bore in white above their sombre doors — "The Holy Cross." In solemn conclave there — A fearful radiance upon his face, With hand uplifted to his God, on which A sinner at eternal bar above Might gazed, and gazing know that he was lost — 154 Cypress and Rose The Padre to the Brotherhood declared The hour had come when Heaven's outraged Host Should, thro" the Church, assert their awful might. "This man," he said, in tones the list'ning monks Half deemed were not of earth, so far removed Were they from every hope or fear that stirs The living breast; so far away they seemed To tremble from the altar-stairs that lead Up thro' the darkness to the unseen God — "This man, whose heart but mocked divine rebuke, Who scoffed at mortal powers to check his sins, And smiled at human tears and broken hearts, Has reappeared, to link with base intrigues His wretched present to his shameful past. This moment plots the libertine against 155 Cypress and Rose The sanctit}^ of home, and all that's pure — That's noble, in the hearts of womankind; While yet the Law, with eyes upon his rank. And hands upon his gold, will silent be. But he returns to expiate his sins, At last to answer to the Church — to God ! For Cadiz's safety, for the good of Spain, Don Pancho's ill career must end." "The means A brother monk in falt'ring tones incjuired — "No scandal should there be, nor yet a crime Within these walls to mend the crimes without." "The holy ofifice of the Church should be To vanquish sin, and for her ev'ry act {56 Cypress and Rose Unto that end she answers to her God !" Replied the priest. ''But shall the means be death?" Asked yet another of the Memberhood. "The way — but leave to Heaven and to me. Yet they who say me nay, what ere it is. Must speak their opposition now!" proclaimed The Padre with unaltered voice. A pause. And then a solemn hush, that no voice brake To plead for one whose fate their silence sealed : The waxen tapers flared on either side The priest, who waited calm, inflexible. For one dissenting heart, but all that marred 157 Cypress and Rose The perfect stillness of the vaulted room Were sighing winds, and rustling leaves — without. Scarce paled the moon on Pancho's coming home Ere yet among his followers 'twas told There glowed an unknown star within their skies : Nor had this lovely light from other orbs Of guilt, across their lurid heavens dawned, Ere baleful gleam of hearts as lost as hers Were hidden in its flaming radiance, As midday sun obscures the stars of night. Nor Pancho on her beauty gazed unmoved, For lustful eyes her image bore within Unto the heart that claimed it for its own ; And for a space she was the harlot queen, Enthroned on trembling dias of his love — }58 Cypress and Rose The brief meteoric flash adown a night Of sin, that seemed to mock in triumph's light The blackness whence she came, and ebon gloom Of coming hours when she no longer pleased. A dusky slave with noiseless step, and gaze Low bent upon the earth, ere waited near — As might some disembodied shadow wait — With eyes that seeing, yet saw not ; and ears That hearing, never heard but her commands ; While bygone favorites reluctant gave The praise and homage Pancho had decreed. Yet slave and outcast to each one confest That something more than wantonness held sway Within her breast ; that in her eyes were sparks Of hell, that ever seemed to menace him J59 Cypress and Rose Who was their lord. But Pancho heard them not, For Envy lowly spoke in Bondage ear ; Nor yet his dazzled eyes in her percieved What others might have seen. The rarest stuffs From Eastern looms, with seeds of gold inwove, The gems, descended thro' a hundred years, Were lavished on this idol of the hour : While feasts were given in her praise, at which A queen in truth might sat and wished for naught- Feasts of barbaric splendor, for his hall, From column on to column, heavy swung The braided garlands of the rose, above A thousand miracles of art; above 160 Cypress and Rose Such wines as e'en might cause resolve to swoon In Virtue's breast ; and o'er the harpists hid From ev'ry e3'e, who woke to life the heart Of wild voluptuous strains; yet overmore Than all the rest, the seat of honor left For her. 'Tvvas long past midnight's hour, anear The close of an unholy festival — Unknown to all a banquet of farewells — That Pancho with his fair companion strolled Adown the broadly-terraced walks that led To garden grots beyond. The glare of lights, J61 Cypress and Rose The wanton song, the measure of the dance, They left behind to other hearts, nor paused Until the gilded garden-chairs were gained. Above them high the solemn palms were ranged, Impris'ning sweets within their drooping plumes That heavenward would climb ; the Summer air Seemed half a living thing of odorous sighs ; Afar off where the citron grove upsprung, A nightbird to the darkness sang of life, And love, despair and death, and farther still The city's stilly sounds, that came and went. Seemed but an echo to the viewless song. Full long in softest dalliance they sat, The dim empurpling dusk revealing lights That lowly burnt 'neath passion-weighted lids ; 162 Cypress and Rose Yet gazing- in her eyes of brightest dark, Strange fancies floated thro' Don Pancho's heart. She seemed forgetful of the hand that claspt Her own — to grow away from him, far, far Away, as star in inmost Heaven set Seems distant from the earth ; and then again To seem so near, each sense lost sharpest edge Within a heedless whole, that drifted out, Far out, to dim Uncertainty, upon The snow-white billows of her breast. And once He fain would speak, but voice was dim with sighs As in a dream, while bending dewy warm Above him, lips that kissed were whispering 163 Cypt'ess and Rose Of all things wild and sweet ; and once he fain Would rise, and from his heart and soul dislodge This spell — this lethargy down deepening — But softest arms detained his steps and drew The heavy head upon her bosom bare, As mother might have held her drowsy child. Faint, fainter, grew each sound, each sight, as when On dying eyes and dulling ears the earth Is slipping from above, around, beneath, Till, with a long-drawn breath of utter rest, He slept within her arms. Hours afterward When Pancho had awoke, it was as one 164 Cypress and Rose Who in a dream still reassures himself 'Tis but a dream : for dull sepulchral walls. As of a living tomb around, and o'er. Dim lit with the imprisoned ray, as of A sunbeam lost thro' crevice overhead ; 1'he black-robed figures round his narrow bed Were surely never seen before. And yet This picture lingered long u])on the brain. Too long, for as the minutes crept away He would that Sleep might shift the scene, tho' naught He gained save that it were a change. Mayhap As thus he lay a pris'ner in his dreams, A slave, the finger-tip of silence on 165 Cypress and Rose Her lips, waved plumes above his silent form, The air to cool, his slumbers to prolong. But curses on her heart more black than she I For in his face a worthy slave might read He slept but ill — -that he would fain arise ! O for a touch from vassal hand so near ! Then on the feet of Consciousness he might Escape these dungeon walls and breathe once more Within his home the air of liberty. And yet, O frightful thought ! what if 'twere real " What If these heavy walls existence had Beyond the throbbing confines of his mind ! Then where was he? how came he there? and th( Of kindred kind rushed madly thro' his brain, As when a turbid stream, long held in check, }66 Cypress and Rose Breaks each device to hold Its growing power, And wildly rushes onward over all. Cold as the stone where on his length was laid. Upon his lips an imprecation hoarse, He struggled to his feet — a stranger stood Within this breathing world, as spirit hurl'd From out another life. About him closed Those dark, mysterious forms. With icy hand As of a statue animate, he clutched The long loose robes of one that nearest moved — "Speak ! friend or foe ! and tell'st me where I am ! Wer't trick of brain diseased ? of nerves o'erworn ? Or stay! some jest upon me played for gold?" "It is no jest!" said one in accents cold; "Don Pancho, thou has hither been conveyed. t67 Cypress and Rose Nor yet to plead — for crimes as thine admit Df no defense — but all too late to learn That Justice lives, tho' Spanish manhood rots Within its grave." "What tribune do'st propose To act before?" "The tribune of the Church ! When rank and gold too strong contestants prove For Cadiz laws — when on the body fair Of Spain, unpunished crimes are left to eat Their canc'rous way — 'tis time a higher power Asserts authority, and brings to doom The high-born criminal. Thy favorite )68 Cypress and Rose Who lately ruled within thine palace gates Was but a person by the Church employed To bring thee to the fate that it decreed. Last night she drugged thee in thy garden paths, And when insensate thou did'st rest within Her arms, she beckoned her accomplices — . Who waited in thy palm-trees' shade — to come. They bore thee to the dilegencia near, And thence unto the 'Holy Cross.' Nor wilt Thy sudden disappearance cause alarm Thy wretched followers among, for thine Were acts of the ungoverned heart and brain, That knew or owned no empire save its will. }69 Cypress and Rose And well mig-ht Cadiz deem thou had'st but fled With her who slowly — surely led thee here : For ne'er again will Spain her face behold Thro' all the length or breadth of her domains." Don Pancho's face grew white as sickly beam That o'er his features play'd, yet haughty lip Contemptuous curved, as if in mockery Of fate unknown, whate'er that fate might be. Unconsciously the slender hand had sought His rapier's jeweled hilt. 'Twas gone! The first In manhood's time he helpless stood before His fellow-man — and all unarmed beyond The courage no man's hand could strip him of. "This is some priestly jest, I must conclude, Or yet more true — some holy stratagem J70 Cypress and Rose The coffers of the Church to swell. If 'twere A jest, 'tis but a sorry one, and to The king the Brotherhood shall vainly plead For insult to the noblest of his realm. If "tis for gold, then speak my freedom's price, Nor hesitate to name the sum thou seek'st, Tho' it exceeds thine greed historical As this incarceration here excels All thine base deeds enacted in the name Of God — for I deserve to dearly pay. Some noble penance do. for trust reposed In her whom inmost Hell would not contain — Who were not fit to wash the feet or touch The hem of Judas' robe." 171 Cypress and Rose "O wretched man ! I tell thee once again, this is no jest! No trick extortionate of any thing That thou can'st call thine own," replied the monk. "That doubt no more shalt dull thine ear to all Which thou hast heard, know thou that I, who in These sacred walls am Padre Francois, bore Within the world which thou did'st drive me from The name of Lara. Look within these eyes And ask of me if this is but a jest! Hast thou forgot? the living and the dead Forbid thy heart forget ! nor can'st thou pay Thy debt, while thou and I existence know. Nor yet I seek to still thine heartless heart — For tho' I saw thee dead, thou still did'st live, J72 Cypress and Rose In all thy guilt, a deathless memory — But measured be thy life by days or years, Thy freedom is a forfeit to the Church — To Padre Francois — and to Lara's son. Beyond this cell thou shalt not pass alive ! — But draw thy breath, which were not life or death, Within these solitary dungeon walls. For thee, henceforth, there is no earth, nor sky — No time, or change — no good, or ill, nor aught But one vast sea of stagnant solitude, In life without a wave, a sail, a shore, In death a grave, engulfing name and hope." Then on his knees, with hands upborne above, He plead: "O Thou, who never yet did'st turn A heedless ear to earth ! let mine be death, 173 Cypress and Rose Whene'er Thou wilt, but let this man endure To know the pangs that other hearts have known- To groan beneath the heritage of woe. Bequeathed alike by the impartial dead To him who ruined and to him who loved. Live on ! — yet from his gaze forever veiled The sun of Liberty — the star of Hope — Till all the wretchedness he wrought — -is his." J74 PART THREE PART III A score of years had fled since from his home—* The second time — Don Pancho disappeared. Many a tongue that his departure told, Now in its cavern lay, a streak of dust; Many an eye that once reflected his. Now mouldered 'neath its fleshless canopy — Where fev'rish Love, the working brain of Hate, 177 Cypress and Rose Ambition's wile, and virtue, vice or shame — Had failed to leave one trace behind. And yet There lingered hearts that sometimes thought of him. That looking backward to their youth or prime Beheld his face, remembered well his name. But few were these, and careless was the glance To far-ofif years, or aught that they contained; For each rehearsed, with secret hope or pain. Some trifling part — some joy, or oft'ner still, Some woe — the Play of Life entailed. But e'en The souls engrossed within the world of Self J78 Cypress and Rose Had now forgot each narrow good or grief, For Spain upon them bent a troubled face, Upraised a hand that trembled as it led, While wildly beat and yet as wildly paused Her helpless heart within. A foe more dread Than aught without — the rebel foe within — Which oft beneath its breath some tryanny Of church or king had curst, now bared the sword Of lawlessness, of havoc and of death. It was the tale, as old as human life. Of mankind rising out of weakness, strong, To vindicate the magic of a name, Be that of freedom, vengeance, or a god. 179 Cypress and Rose Yet ere the day had dawned on Spain when hearts Once more beat softly to the song of Peace. Unnumbered lives had slaked some dusty field, And e'en the altar was a sacrifice To those who owned a guiding hand no more In Heaven or on earth. Nor battlements Of Cadiz could withstand the rebel host, For thunder-like along her marble quays The foe within the harbor stormed her walls. With volumed smoke the day took ashen hues : x\t night the bursting shell illumed the sky With hissing meteors that melted back — A momentary star of earth, and hate : }30 Cypress and Rose While silentl}' the stars beamed on above — The everlasting stars of space unbound, And peace unmarred. The towered walls at last Laid low, were hidden 'neath the victors' feet, Who in the Plaza pitched their leader's tent And raised a thousand swords in its defense. From thence, as from some dread volcanic mouth, A hundred streams of fiery strength poured down Upon the town ; nor turned aside for aught Of royal lineage, or papal power — Yet paused, and on their molten bosoms bore The slave, were he the bondsman of the king, The Church, or dusky vassal of a Don. 18} Cypress and Rose But one unknown they vain would liberate— A pris'ner chained within monastic walls — Whose outstretched hand and widely-staring eyes Seemed pleading e'en in death for bread — for life. With refugees from Cadiz there had fled A score of monks, and with them vanished care — • The jailer's care — of him they had but found. The hand of Pity smoothed his whitened locks, And Curiosity of each inquired His name — from whence — and why they found him there- For Mystery across the haggard face Some secret lines had traced, that none of earth Might read and understand. Yet all confest Twere but a proof of papal hate, or yet Of royal wrath that shunned the light of day ; \Z2 Cypress and Rose That in his breast some tale of woe had died — Some untold tale they were too late to hear. Thro' empty corridors and chapel aisles With tender hands they bore the lifeless form. Nor paused but once, and but that once to fire The altar steps, the cross above ; then by The light of flames that tinged the midnight sky They laid him in his grave — unknown^unnamed. THE END 183 HIS, THEN, IS THE END OF THE BOOK, CrPRESS AND ROSE, AS ARRANGED y PRINTED FOR MARION FRANCES WATT AT THE If^T PRESS, SEATTLE, U.S.A., ^ OF WHICH BUT A LIMITED EDITION IS HEREWITH ISSUED /? ^ ^ DEC 161902 liiiiiS' 018 395 55b 1