, , III iff 1 1 1 1 ift I tt 1 ill ■1 Class JL Book-J^ O Htf Gw!ig!ttN°_i2LvZ_ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. NEW RUBAIYAT FROM A SOUTHERN GARDEN NEW RUBAIYAT FROM A SOUTHERN GARDEN BY GEORGE FREDERIC VIETT What in me is dark Illumine, what is lonv raise and support; That, to the height of this great argument, I may assert Eternal Providence And justify the ivays of God to men. —Milton. «N>ro flork STURGIS & WALTON COMPANY 1915 Copyright, 1914, By GEORGE FREDERIC VIETT Copyright, 1915, (y STURGIS & WALTON COMPANY First Published elsewhere. Second Edition revised aDd augmented. Set up and electrotyped. Published, November, 1915. etc i a 1915 ©CI.A416820 J Dedicated to The Saintly Sisterhood Faith, Mercy f and Peace, In Solemn Protest Against War and Its Horrors Now Desolating the Ancient Places of Civilization and Christianity A. D. MCMXV " Haply I think on Thee, — and then my state Like to the lark at break of day arising (From sullen Earth) sings hymns at Heaven s gate. — Shakespeare. A theme which will be deliberated by the loftiest minds, ages after you and I, like streaks of morning cloud, shall have melted into the infinite azure of the past. — Prof. John Tyndall. A Deity believed, is joy begun; A Deity adored, is joy advanced; A Deity beloved, is joy matured. Each branch of piety delight inspires. — Young. It must be so, Plato, thou reasonest well! — Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality f — Addison. NEW RUBAIYAT FROM A SOUTHERN GARDEN Still seems it strange, that thou shouldst live for ever? Is it less strange, that thou shouldst live at all? THIS is a miracle, and THAT no more. — Young. Who knows but life be that which men call death, and death what men call life. — Euripides. O canst thou, my Soul, from the store of thy learning Bring counsel to hallow the hopes of the heart? — Viett. NEW RUBAIYAT FROM A SOUTHERN GARDEN i Hail — Saintly Muse ! Awake thine Heav- enly Choir, Illume my Soul with thy Divinelier Fire ! Prompt thou a Passion that may urge the strength Of Pilgrims searching for the Heart's Desire. II Man and his Destiny — O theme Sublime For one that views the Pageantry of Time ! Its passion and its pathos and its pride, — I crave a Seraph's plume to pen my Rhyme ! i -New Rubaiyat From in Awake O Soul that seeks a holier Light Than drives the Stars from off the Field of Night ! Behold the Rising of the Sun of Faith — The hosts of Darkness and of Doubt to smite ! IV Come fill the bowl at this reviving Stream, For Life is brief, and Youth's enchanting dream Is but the Phantom of a Glory lost Adown that Vista where the shadows teem. v Amid the Babble and the Noise outside, Methought a Voice above the uproar cried — " Come to the Temple where the True God hears The pleading Soul, and throws the Portals wide." 2 A Southern Garden-. VI And as the Sun rose some that stood within The Shadow, shouted — " Tell us not of Sin, Life is too brief to waste in Litanies, Let us fare forth our Wine and Joy to win." VII Before the shadows of the last were sped, Another Voice from out the Silence said — " I still remain, my name is Blasphemy, I will abide though all the rest be fled! " VIII But better Voices drowned the hateful sound — " At least You shall not stay on Holy ground, Brief is your time to curse the pleasant Earth, And in this Temple you shall not be found ! " 3 New Rubaiyat From IX Far from the noisy Crowd let us retire To warm our Hearts by Spring's enchanting Fire; Bring thou old Khayyam's Verse, and let us seek With him, the Pathway to the Heart's Desire. x For we be Seekers after Truth and Light, And 'ere the Shadows fall to dim our sight, We must determine on the Way and Guide For that last Journey through the Vale of Night. XI For this we know, that Life, so dear and sweet Ends — with thy Love in yonder lone retreat. Man and his moil, his laughter and his tears, Are as the hollow sounds of Phantom feet — 4 A Southern Garden. XII That patter through the crumbling Halls of Time, Where the loud Horologe sounds its warning chime And strikes the Hour of Doom, to bid the Guests Fare forth into the bleak Nights alien Clime. XIII Here then amid the Songster's caroling, Where blushing Roses rarest incense fling, Come thou to worship, and let Sorrow learn The infinite Compassion of the Spring. New Rubaiyat From XIV For Spring has come: the light of Golden days Is mellow on bright fields and woodland ways ; And all the World is Beauty newly born, And every living Thing hymns forth its Praise. XV The Garden's glory glows to Heav'n again, For gentle floods of Sunshine and of Rain Have lured the Rose its blushing folds to spread, While joyous Songsters sing their love re- frain. XVI You cry, — " It nought avails that Spring is sweet, My Love lies buried here beneath our feet, My heart lies with her in the silent Dust, Canst thou recall Her from that lone re- treat?" 6 A Southern Garden. XVII " Erstwhile we roamed amid these joyous Flowers, No thought of Grief had we, the Golden Hours Sped on, for Life and Love were by my side; Canst thou recall Them to these haunted bow- ers!" XVIII " The Birds lament, their song is full of pain, They seem to cry — Will She not come again? Is this gulf Death so fathomless and wide That thou thy Love may nevermore regain ! " New Rubaiyat From XIX And so thou canst not in the fire of Spring The desolation of thy sad Heart fling! Yet May — rose-garlanded — cries out " Behold, Not leaden Death, but golden Life a-wing! " xx I sing the Resurrection, and my Prayer Is answered by the green Earth everywhere; Decay and Death! These are but other names For Change; behold It in this Garden fair! XXI See ! even Here thy Love is glorified, Dost thou not see Death and the Grave de- nied? This very Rose that smiles above her Clay Is part of Her, for Lo — 'tis Eastertide ! 8 A Southern Garden-. XXII So let her rest beneath the rose's reign 14 Among the guests star-scattered " on the plain; Her dreaming Dust awakens with each Rose And joys to glimpse the glad sweet World again. XXIII A Resurrection ! Aye, ye Cynical ! The simple Sun hath wrought this Miracle, That starry Parent of the Earth — he knows The magic touch Life's golden Cup to fill! ■.New Rubaiyat From XXIV Come now with Khayyam's Book and let us scan Its sad perplexities of Plot and Plan, The Why and What, the Whence and Where of Life That thwart and fret the searching Soul of Man. xxv Beware this Persian rhyme! And here con- fess We pore the Page but for its loveliness, Holding our Faith despite the siren chant That lures to Doubt with Melody's caress. xxvi Enmeshed in measures of enchanted Song, The dazzling numbers lead thy Soul along The paths of Pleasure and the ways of Doubt, But nowhere minds thee of the Right or Wrong. 10 A Southern Garden-. XXVII And Reason reels into the artful Snare, And Hope and Faith are tangled unaware Amid the spell of Passion's plaints — that seem Like Angel anthems raised in Holy prayer. XXVIII So was I led, my better Self to grieve, By Sophistries the- Heart would fain believe, But soon my Soul returned a Penitent And cried to Heaven — pleading — for re- prieve. XXIX I sought for Pleasure and I found but Dust ! I reached Ambition and it was but Dust! I saw that Glory and the World's acclaim Were nought but Bubbles lighting on the Dust! ii — Ne3 ■.New Rubaiyat From CLXIX Ye of the cursed creed of " Might is Right," Ye may too late discern that " Right is Might," Finding Hell's legions stronger than thine own, And Angels mightier still with Virtue's might. CLXX With " Might is Right " your impious battle- cry Ye press and smite, and God and man defy; So may ye learn the blasting might of Hell, And power of Heav'n, that creed to satisfy ! CLXXI There is below no Monster more accurst Than thou — that canst from hunger cold and thirst Withhold the coin that might the pang as- suage, And live the best while smiling on the worst. 6 4 A Southern Garden. CLXXII O thou that gatherest the Golden hoard By brutal might, by trickery or fraud, What wilt thou purchase with thy riches, Friend? In what Eternal Bank is it all stored? CLXXIII Think you to revel at the Feast of Life Unmindful of the want and anguish rife Without thy gates, nor pay the Reckon- ing — Nor bear thy portion in the grievous strife ! CLXXIV Ah — yours the cursed heart that can deny The widow's portion or the orphan's cry — Decline a pittance to a dire distress And look on Sorrow with a steely eyel 65 ■New Rubaiyat From CLXXV Feast well thy Gluttony at board and mart, For thou ere long will of the Dust be part, And Earth will lighten and Hell groan with joy When Death shall frown and still thy Miser heart. CLXXVI This Worldly Trust you set your soul upon — It shall breed reptile Horrors, and anon, The Harvest you shall gather will be swarms To fang Death's barb, when Life's brief day is done! CLXXVII For me — I give my mite, and giving, grieve My poverty, that has not more to give; Holding no privilege more blest than that Which can a fellow-creature's need relieve. 66 A Southern Garden. CLXXVIII For Love, and Mercy, Rapture, Charity, Are tokens of the Soul's Divinity, Above the Mind's analysis they stand — Beacons of Faith and Immortality! CLXXIX But if in moments of despair and trial You cannot with God's Mercy reconcile — The Tragedies and Horrors of the Earth That seem to banish Providence, the while; CLXXX So that thy Heart is torn, thy Soul dismayed At the grim pageantry of Sin arrayed — The monstrous Mournfulness of all the Past With its red Record, and old Debts unpaid; 6 7 -New Rubaiyat From CLXXXI At Virtue crushed and Vice victorious, At Blasphemers about, contemptuous Of all the Sacred Promises and Hopes, Who mocking, swear the Grave takes All of us. CLXXXII Peace to thy Soul ! It is not thine affair, Thee and thy Conscience, these thine only care; Art Thou to Judge and settle for the World? Nay! Each in time will answer — Here or There. CLXXXIII 'Tis not for Thee to portion Praise or Blame, To measure Justice, or dispute the Claim; Thou knowest not which way that Pilgrim went, Thou knowest not which way this Pilgrim came! 68 A Southern Garden. CLXXXIV What is the Sum to thee? Canst thou not see That all the Sorrow and the Misery Of these vast Multitudes beneath the Moon — It is not more than thine own Doom — to thee. CLXXXV The Joy andJSorrow of a single Soul That makes the Pilgrimage and pays the Toll — It is nor more nor less than All Of It, The Tragedy of One sums up the Whole. CLXXXVI Grant me, O Lord, but strength mine own to bear, Give me the Faith that will not brook Despair, Look down in Mercy on my frailties, My sins forgive, and take my dying Prayer. 6 9 New Rubaiyat From CLXXXVII Thou Great Physician heal me! that I may Be strong in Trust to live my little day; That I may tread — though all the World may mock — Firm in the Faith on thy appointed Way. clxxxviii For Thou dost Live and Reign ! I read the Sign Writ clear o'er All in characters Divine ; In the deep pathos of our Earthly quest, Or in the Stars that with Thy Glory shine — CLXXXIX I know the Truth! Yet was it still more clear In blest Compassion's glance, and Pity's tear; In the Soul-eloquence of Virtue's voice And in her mien when Death was drawing near. 70 A Southern Garden cxc Aye ! On sweet Human faces have I read — God lives in Souls by Saintly purpose led, I've seen the Light reflected from Above Upon the face of such when Life had fled. cxci I've read it in a Mother's soft caress, In Love's bright eye agleam with tenderness, And in the smile that marks the Infant's dream, And in the Faith that noble Souls profess. cxcn By those that with Unrighteousness contend And stand undaunted Virtue to defend, By Angel heart in Human form en- shrined — I know the Soul shall unto Him ascend. 71 New Rubaiyat From CXCIII By those that from on High their Wisdom draw And humbly bend their Maker to adore, By all these Things I read the mighty Truth — God Lives and Reigns, Here, Now, and Evermore! 72 A Southern Garden-. CXCIV No more with Doubt beset therefore lament Thy lot, nor rage with impious discontent; Suffice the Master knows, and of His Plan Thou art a Part, and to His Purpose bent. cxcv The Seas may rise, the Earthquake thunders roll, Old Earth be drowned, or rent from pole to pole, And dreadful Darkness blot Creation's face — Yet through that Darkness One shall lead my Soul! CXCVI " No lingering Ages of decrepitude With euthenasia for Earth's Evil brood," But He shall come in Majesty and Wrath To sift the Souls of Men and crush Hell's feud! 73 = New Rubaiyat From CXCVII " His Hand Omnipotent shall rend the Clay And push the Elements aside, that they No more shall stand between his Face and those Whom He shall come to Judge — on that Last Day! " CXCVIII But if You still deride the pious Plan And hold the worship for Mankind is " Man," Yet would I point to Christ upon the Mount — Holding Him peerless since the World be- gan, cxcix Let Pedants urge their Logic to explain That Jesus and the Prophets lived in vain; Show first my Soul a kinder Creed than this Which bursts the Grave and cleanses from all stain. 74 A Southern Garden. cc It matters not that Mockers may decry, And worldly-Wise the Miracle deny! The Creed of Christ by noblest Souls pro- fessed Is Man's supreme Appeal to God on High. CCI If for some Purpose 'twas by God decreed That for His seeking Man should make a Creed, Then He'll fulfill the Hope by Man pro- posed When on His Son they called their Souls to lead, ecu Yet many strut in garbs of holiness Who scorn Christ's Virgin birth, and hold him less Than the Messiah sent! How fares it then With lesser Miracles they still confess? 75 New Rubaiyat From CCIII By that same token stand they not forlorn — Their pious Preachments all to tatters torn? Of what avail to Us their screeds and creeds If Christ lived all in vain and died forsworn? cciv For what were Life if that One Faith be vain? A dying Flower on a Desert plain — A vast Negation 'neath a Soulless Sky — A dream of Heaven none may hope to gain. ccv But 'tis the Miracle they cannot brook! Yet Miracles there be where'er we look — This Life, Man's Quest, the Secret, are not these All Miracles writ large in Nature's book? 7 6 A Southern Garden-. CCVI " A Legend and a Myth, man-made," ye cry; Show me a better then to satisfy The Soul's Desire ! And if there be a God In any Heaven, this Myth He'll justify! CCVII Though other Creeds have held some share of Truth, Yet have they died. This wears Immortal youth, Summing them all — the Fountain of all Good, Holding alike all Men in Heaven's Ruth. CCVIII Their Voice is stilled, their Pride lives but in Stone, Their Shrines are shattered, and their Tem- ples prone, 77 z=zNew Rubaiyat From The old Moon mourns their Glory, and the Wind Wails through the Wreckage on the Desert strown. ccix Christ lived and died ! And God will justify The Witnesses that stand to testify To the Messiah's Mission and His Truth! Man's holiest Hope the Lord will not deny. ccx Not mine the Faith that founders on the shoal Where murky waters o'er mud marshes roll ; My Bark is headed for the surging Sea, Its prow is pointed to a Starry Goal ! ccxi And when at last I near Death's sombre Vale, My Prayer shall be to Him who will not fail My need. So will I front the mortal Dart With level glance that will nor dare nor quail. 78 A Southern Garden CCXII Ah, my Beloved, when with tearful eye* You breathe my name, or hold your vigil nigh The daisied turf 'neath where I lie adream — Methinks my cold dumb Clay would hear your sigh; CCXIII And strive to work once more the olden spell Of Love within your heart, and burn to tell The solemn Secret which it learned at last, And to your question whisper — " All is Well." CCXIV For when anear the Poet's starry bed Comes Life and Love with light and ling'ring tread, His dreaming Dust would thrill to list their vows, And joy to know their presence overhead. 79 New Rubaiyat From ccxv Dust unto Dust ! yet blessed 'tis to know — That with Earth's best and noblest we shall go; Saint, Sage and Beauty, dreaming of the Dawn And God's awak'ning touch upon their brow. ccxvi God with them All! My homage here I pay Unto Earth's sacred Genius passed away; And with Love's Greetings hail the Starry band That shall come After to adorn Life's day. 80 A Southern Garden. CCXVII O brother-Poet, of the TIME TO BE ! Who shall in turn dispute the Mystery, Breathe thou a Prayer o'er my forgotten Clay, Deal gently with my Verse, and tell of Me — CCXVIII When unto Death Sin's Penalty I paid, And in the Dust my lifeless Clay was laid, I did descend, with Trust in Christ to Rise; Firm in that Faith I fell — and unafraid. Amen. 81 IS 1111 Sill II 111 It SHI ill