i-^€^ -C?^ 1 o* Class _P^^Ji^£:^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr BARHAM BEACH A Poem of Regeneration By JULIA DITTO YOUNG. A stainless gentleman, Who never yet hath uttered any word Less whitely true than what the angels breathe Nighest the throne. May 16th, 1908. IwoCuDlu llecei.% { JUN 16 1908 OOfy a. I 1^0 Entered according to act of Congrese in tlie year 1908, by Ijniirence Ditto Young, in the office of tlie Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. Entered at Stationers' Hall. All rights reserved Photographs by H. Wilson Saunders Printed and bound by Floyd-Genthner Press, Buffalo, New York. Author's Notes. "June, 1895. "At my home, 391 Bouek Avenue, Buffalo, May 1st, 1895, was begun Barham Beach. It was not written quite with the headlong speed of its predecessors, the first rough draft not being completed till June 10th. The first and only MS. was fini.shed June 20th at The Nest, Mrs. Lavinia M. Oberst's cottage at Crystal Beach, Canada, and was the next day sent over to the city for the inspection of Mr. William Mcintosh, Editor of the Evening News, who is our valued friend and adviser. The poem contains 1,998 lines in nineteen parts; no two consecutive parts are in the same form or meter. The writing of Barham Beach was through- out an unmixed delight." April, 1908. During the thirteen years which have elapsed since the following pages were written, they were preserved in the Erie County Savings Bank, Buffalo, N. Y., and in the First National Bank of Caledonia, Livingston County, New York, at the home of Francis and Eliza Blakeslee. Of the first edition of Barham Beach there were 1000 books printed, and this is Copy Number ^^3 )uuAl^ )^AyVlo y HI 1 n 1 ' TO LAURIE. Works by Mrs. Young. Adrift, A Story of Niagara : A Novel. Dedicated to William Dean Howells. A very taking story. The descriptions of the falls and river of Niagai'a are not less fascinating than the human interest of the book. — Albany Journal. Thistle Down : Poems. Dedicated to Margaret McKenna Ditto. We wonder if this poet had in mind the Galatea of Theocritus wlien slie wrote Thistle Down? Her verses have the trembling, airy grace we see in harls and gossamers. Some of the jiieces have the quality of genius. — Maurice Thompson in The Independent. Glynne's Wife : A Novelette in Verse. Dedicated to Robert D. Young. Probably the rarest of all the Roycroft publica- tions. — New York Times. It is said the author felt the romance and pathos of Mr. Vanderbilt's waiting on his yacht "Valiant" for the news of Mrs. Vanderbilt's marriage to Mr. Belmont, and out of that incident the charming fiction grew. The story is of very unusual merit from every standpoint, and one in which the powers of the poet, the novelist, and the moralist are singularly combined. — A. Jeffrey in Brooklyn Citizen. These lines have the genuine Byronic flavor, and are in places as voluptuous of color and form as Keats. — Walter Storrs Bigelow in Boston Transcript. The Story of Saville : Told in Numbers. Done into a book at the Roycroft Printing Shop which is in East Aurora, opposite the sign of the Black Bull. Dedicated to Thomas Hardy. A glittering, mu.sieal, beautiful poem. — Arthur W. Austin in Buflalo Commercial. A romance woven with heart-breaking skill. — Kate Burr in Buffalo Times. Black Evan, A Tale of the *45 : In Verse. Dedicated to All Whose Hearts Thrill at Highland Song or Story, and More Particularly to the St. An- drew's Scottish Society of Buffalo. She sings, like Virgil, of things divine, love, chivalry, and God.— Rov. J. E. McGrath. The first .stanzas are a magnificent painting of gold, crimson, and amethyst, and the tale matches the bril- liancy of autumn in its gorgeous phraseology and royal splendor of word and tliought. — Esther Chaddock Davenport. Mrs. Young is the legitimate successor of Owen Meredith.— Mark S. Hubbell, in "Truth." Extract From Letter. Mount Kiseo, New York. July 13th, 1895. Barbara Beach will give you a place in English Liter- ature in the line of the worthies of the centuries who have written immortal words, words which the world will not let die until the world itself dies and goes darkling out in space, a perished planet. MARGARET EMMA DITTO. BLAKESLEE HOUSE. CONTENTS Plage Part I — city, ruined city! was it lightning's levin-brand 19 Tart II — Sea and land were one gigantic flower.. 25 Part III — She's coming ! 0, she's coming ! 31 Part IV — Blue-eyed the boy was 35 Part V — When simple maid or stately matron, Dowsabel or Dame 41 Part VI — It was eve,^ 'twas the hour when the Angelus, ringing 47 Part VII — And the dream lingered still when the gibbous red arc 55 Part VIII — Beside the silver sea they sat at eve. . . 61 Part IX — No minion of justice intrenched, no plu- tocrat's tool was he 71 Part X — Not all unbroken was the summer's rest. 81 Part XI — However equably one may support 87 Part XII — When soft the midnight brooded on the sea 93 Part XIII— 'Twas a September midnight 101 Part XIV — 'Twas a gray morn — Alack and well- a-day ! 107 Part XV — If there is in the turmoil chaotic and drear 113 Part XVI — They paced the beach at eve 119 Part XVII — A long, long silence followed; Theo- dore 125 Part XVIII— For the last time of many times 133 Part XIX — -lie rode with bent head 141 BARHAM BEACH I Barham Beach (^ CITY, ruined city! Was it lightning's levin-brand That flashed in i'ury through thy streets, thy fanes and forum grand, Cr did a prisoned Titan writhe in cataclysmic throe And shatter all thy rainbow towers and lay thy glory low, Or was thy fall the rotton fruit of some mad devil's spite "Who helped man's work a hundred years, to spoil it in a night ? Fair city, wretched city! In that thou wert more fair Than all thy sisters, so thy wretchedness is past compare, For Oh ! to see the altar-steps that holy men have trod, The chiseled marble erst a spire pure pointing up to God, The groined arch once thrilling to Euterpe's silver tones, The bench which Themis' terror made the kingliest of thrones, The hearthstone, jewel of the home, the core of fire and food. All, all inextricable prey of keen vicissitude. All warped from kindly human use of pleasure and of gain, A corpse imburied, festering beneath the sun and rain! hillside, gentle hillside ! Ere America began To be a nation merrily the fleet red children ran Athwart thy grassy gilded slopes, or lay in placid rest Sucking new sustenance from thee, the Mother's generous breast, 20 BAiniAM BKACU. Ami in this Inn^uid Inter (l;iy wo too, yos, ovon wo, Poor fjiiiitiiiu: ;itoms, ol'l Iimvo dniwii Aiitivus like from tlioo Nt>w stroiiiitli, a nioiiu'iit 's iloetini:; joy, a faith to IVol again That ilo who fashioiiod llu'o so fair lialh ahso I'nshiouod moil. And tiiat, () o\orh-istin,c: hill! h^nc: as tliysolf should stand Seouro, so also men woit> sal'o in tho liolhnv ol' His liand, — Hut now, tho horror! K'od and ront art thou from base to orown, 'I'iiy scarpod craiis and mossy dolls alike have Inirtloil down. And tliin,c:s unuamod and slimy, things (hat Nature lu\th forbid To seek the liijlit, oroop blindly out from secret erypts long hid. Unlovely noisome efts and newts and sad bewildered gnomes, Lnmontini; with a ijianfs wo(> thoii- little ravislu^l homes, And tiny turbid rills steal forth and brownly to tho ]ilain Kun sobbing, striving with their tears to wasb away tho slain. — O high sweet hill! thou Tu>bl(>st type of luMuty and of foroe, Alas! that tlnni shiuildst bar in vain the dread voleanie oourse Of — No, there is no name belits that dark mysterious Power AVhioli we eall Fate when brokenly beneath its wheels wo eower. And when beyond the bolehing elonds our trembling hearts can trneo Only a lifted angry band and thunderous dim faee, — 'Tis otherwMse we name that Power when harpstrings pulse and ])lny For us, when for our eager hearts bloometh the rose of May, ii.\i;ii.\M iii:.\('ii. 21 Wlirii joy enfolds iis, wln'ii a soul .spriii/^s in I he worl lil(!S,s clod, — All, Iticii in liiippy reverence we name liial I'dwi-r (Jixl! Aud yet, O city devastate, () ;;real (lislmndicd (|neen, A lucent lake siiall lap at last thy limlis in liii-(|ii()ise slieen, And tliou, () naiuiitain ^.^aslied and ^oicd, Iml patiently await Time's touch and lliou shall lie adorned as a hride is J'or her mate, — But when a livinj^ soul endures such agony as this, When in life's sinilin;;; rosy ])atli there yawns a black abyss. And when the wliole fair fal)rie hath bcien sec^thed in roar- ing flame And no blemish 'gainst honor and truth AVas proud -with its high haughty sense of perfection, And rich with tlie corals and contours of youth, But 'twas more that she helpfully thought of liim, — sweetly TTad watched him advance ere lie looked in her eyes, More, that she toiled for him, faithfully, featly, E'en such a space as a meteor flies. And courteous he thanked her, his sentences ringing Resonant, masterful on the soft air, Then carelessly down from his handsome horse flinging, Took from lier fingers their seneschal's care. And then he stood smiling, bareheaded, calm pleading Community e'en as of mariners wrecked, Since strange astral forces their feet had been leading Till they should here at earth's end intersect, — Yes, he smiled, and Louise thought 'twas something worth living For, morel}' the seeing and sharing that smile, Deemed him blest among men, since he might go on giving Such "Benedicites" mile after mile All along the dark road to the meanest of creatures, — How the clear siiirit flashed lucently through The pale porcelain lamp of the cameo features, Cyclamen perfect, of ivory's hue! Yes, he smiled, and remounted, and onward went riding, Turning to wave ere he passed out of sight. And the woman stood long while tlie shadows came gliding, 52 BARHAM BEACH. Smoothing the way for the dark sultan, Night, Stood alone 'neatli the murmurous pines, yet not lonely. Nor burdenel and banned with her memories vile, For present and past in one consciousness only Were fused, a strange marvelous dream of a smile! YIl VII. A NT) tin- tlrt'iiiii liiif^LTt'd still wlioii tlio gibbous rod ure Of the slow lagging niooji cleft the resinouH dark And slioue o'er the sea us a crimsou-soaked path Fierce (ire-darting Odiu had traversed in wrath, — Lingered still when tlie faint silver spangles and few That earliest peeped in the tremulous blue Hud married and multiplied, striven, grown strong, And made all the firmament glad with their song, — Lingered still when she sought the low hunibh! abode Where a light from the easement a warm welcome glowed, Where the creepers were garlanding window and wall. And a willow drooped lovingly down over all, — And the dream tangled deep in the mesh of her hair, And merged when she knelt in the words of hci- jirayer. Ami when by her baby's she pillow(!(l her head To a vision of sleep was the waking dream wed. She was lying, she thought, where the weltering wave Kolled ravenous up to the mouth of a cave. The sand at its portal all trampled, strown thick With dark clammy drops at whose touch she turned sick, Its depths coldly bright with the semblance of stones, — Ah Qod ! 'tis a face — no, a skull — they are bones I And she wist not how ever she came in that place, For scarce could a chamois or eagle find space On the cliff that rose ominous, beetling and scarred, Snarlingly keeping invincible guard,— And her robe was the pop))icd black, golden of brede. Heavy with wave wash, and fih^d with gray weed. 56 BAKU AM BEACH. And suddeu the wiud set its teeth with a gnash, And the chock of the sou whitened under its lash, And a murderous mist wrapped the sun in a sliroud And stifled his struggles in cloud upon cloud. And the gulls fled afraid in the gloom; yet the light Abiding too clearly, too plain sliowed the sight That uprose, was belched out of the shuddering wave As frantic an earthquake might fling from a grave Pollution made visible, flesh-fretted Jaws, Bared fangs, eyeless sockets, white tigerish claws. With a vast cruel strength to consume and despoil, And a horror unnamed in its serpentine coil. And she'screamed and God heard her, for lo ! on the height, 1 Majestic, self-sliedding a glory of light, Stood Michael the 8aiiit! And he shouted on high And stripped off the veils from the sun in the sky, And the scales of his armor were glittering gold. Dazzling and splendid, superb to behold. And his crescent curved pinions were snowily pure, Full strong to uplift, to aspire, to endure. And he plunged to her rescue, — swift, headlong, he came, And the wind of his wings was as rushing of flame. And the sapphiriue flash of his terrible eye Was as lightning that riveth the blue summer sky, — And his sword circled over, and deadly it fell. And she heard a calm summons: "Look up, — all is well!" And he stood, a serene lofty light on his brow, And she was transformed, though all ignorant bow, YoY slio saw that her ruined robe glinnuered to white. And that even as he golden-fair in her sight Stood peerless, lier body and spirit had grown Beautiful, radiant, matching his own. And she said, "0 my hero triumphant and true, B Ann AM BEACTI. 57 savior, Imfli Clod iii.kIc me like unto you? Are we brotlier and sister, then, master uiid cliild* — " And be bent over lier, bent down and smiled! And sbe woke. It was dawn; the child feebly had cried, And its moan li;id mixed close with the moan ol' llie (ide, — 'Twas a ghastly gray morning,— a giiost rmgcsn-d rain Wailed and des])aired and beat wild at the ])ane, — And she soon bushed the child; but the heart-broken sea Sighed liuskily on, "Not to be,— not to be!" VIII VIII. ttK.SlDI'j tliu isilver sea they sat at eve, Bathed in a pale sweet amethystine glow, Watching the billows' languorous slow heave, — AVhen sank the sun that did not find them so? Calypso and Ulysses in their isle, Lone rocky coign amid tlie howling main, Not more depended on each other's smile For human comradeship than did these twain, — Mornings they paced for hours the lirm brown marge, Salt-sprinkk'd, shelly, flecked with crims(m weed, Deep, deep immersed in thouglit, discoursing lai'ge Of rampant evil and of mortal need ; Noontides they sought the dim and bosky wood Where vines laced intricately overhead, And there some rhyme of regal womanhood, Some tale of knightly quest alternate read; Often they lingered on the wheatfield's brink, And heard the scythe-blades' merry carillon, And quaffed each other's health in harvest-drink. And cheered the beaded brown armed reai)ers on; And oft they marked the melting pearly sails Slow drifting on athwart the purple sea. And dreamed what cassia sweetness, silken bales, What Asian riches might the cargoes be; And when delayingly they homeward went, 'Neath the keen stars and silver-sifting moon. Flute-like and organ-like their voices blent In "You'll T?omeniber!" or in "Ronnie Doon," — And if the night were dark, and veiled the way, Close clung her fingers to his thrilling arm, 62 liAhllAM JULiCll. Atid slowly, sIdwIv ilid llu'ir footsteps slrny, liolli 1(1 coiiclinlc such foolisli sweet iihiim, — .\iiil niicc nl |i;irtiii!;' lie lind s.'iid "(Joodniuflil, — 1 low lii;i\ (' ;iiii I, 111; it hiller word to si\y !" And slie Inc.'il hed low, "O I'l-ieiid, llie new found liKld I li;i\ (• I'roui II ice IniiK'l !i llic nii;lil to d;iv !'' 'I' I icy s;il, this h.-ihny e\ <> ol" late .1 illy, \\'hil(- the nihy sl<\', (ii'cw the dnrk iris of ii wood dove's l»n>;ist, Sol'l r.'idinu; to ji sen l^iiII's silver jijniy, And these sweet silent chnn,u;es soeiucd to plcid 'riiiil the rapt w.'itclicrs, so'eMm still Jis they, Should hold I'l-om ;in\' tri\ial word or deed. I/i,<.rhl r.iilcd; th(> lustrous ])!i,ir(>iuitry w;is o'er, ^'et still Louise s;it nioveless, lost in Ihoiii^lit, And lliniiin.!;- olT I h(> stillness, ThtMidor*^ AskiMJ of the hroiilcries her lirnin li;id wrouii'lil. Kut she. ash;inied, sinc(> all her tlioui'ht had heen Milt of ;in old world woven rune of love, or (luinevere .Miid all her spliMulid sin, 'i'lie l>;iseiit>ss ninl the brilliancy lltereof. And of the (pi(>stion wliidher it AV(M-e best l''or lily ni.aids to fade in vir.';in bud. No leji]>iii,si heart throbs ripeninir the lire.-ist, No rosy .ardors reddening' the blooad the swei>ts that it o[' I'\ate h.atli won, — ]{ Ah- II AM III: AC II. 63 W'liolluT Mwcro hosi In luxe oni'c not ;il ;ill Or twice indeed ('oiild then ;i woiii.iii Iwico J'le born? could she lliiil, Kfti iii^' of youlh recall, Apjiiii (he lioy '^iuVn ciireleHH Jiirri enlico? I'>mI sore iisli!iiiieiil Hi'' niillion oozy thiu'^s Quick l)r(!erlin^' in eadi loathly noismiie den, Ancient corrnptions and old ulcer slings, 64 BARE AM BEACH. And all that burrows in the flesh of men, — Is there no way, God, to wash and sweeji The crusted filth that festers to gangrene, To loose my citj^'s limbs from sottish sleep, — No way to cleanse and cure that fallen queen?" Then he fell silent, and the woman fixt Far on the sea-rim dry indignant eyes. Burning with shame to think her life had mixt With one who held that city otherwise, Taught her fresh harlotries, ignored her jiain, Low as he found her left her trebly worse, Sluiced deep into one sound gold-bleeding vein. Became the chief incarnate civic curse, — Thank God, he should be punished! Years on years Had he to languish in his darkened cell. Beset with red remorse, with leopard fears Lest dogging vengeance send him thence to hell, — Ah, Ah! Far keeper, see the ankle-chain Bites deep and deeper, even to the bone, — Smite thou the lips into a crimson stain That laughed until the universal groan, — And let him labor! Let the wax defile, The tough thread cut those lily hands and sweet, — Teach him to sweat, slow fashioning the while The poor coarse garb for honest humble feet ! Yet ah! as Time should slowly onward creep, Chastised should crime be, evils righted, — yes! The cheated folk once more their gold should heap, But she, the wife, had hope of no redress, — AVhat had he made of her he dared to wed? A puppet to display his thievish gains ! BARHAM BEACH. 65 Her very irame was fonncil of stolon bread, Dishonorable blood slunk through her veins! — How he had slighted her, i)Oor fretting fool, How merely tolerated her oaress. Flying, as doth a lad let out of school, To find elsewhere his real happiness, — And Oh, her soul, that was as maiden snow Ere he had smirclied it with his sooty own. Now in the muddy ditch was lying low. Its pristine lofty clarity o'erthrown; She had no yearning for the things of God, Nor could with noble aspirations mate. Cared not to tread the paths that saints have trod. Bankrupt of love, but ^ridas-rich in hate; AVhat had her life been since that awful time? Had she not deigned to profit by his sin, Nor striven from the moral slough to climb, The filthy stew he flung and left her in, — Were there not sparkling now upon her hands Diamonds that were as sweat and tears congealed. And angry emerald eyes of pauper bands, Rubies, red drops from wounded hearts unhealed? Had she not praised the juggling skillful swords That clashed for her in later legal theft, Owned she not even now bright secret hoards Whereof no earthly power could leave her reft? That was her soul, then! such a rotten thing As carrion breeds, at which the gorge doth swell, A worm, an eyeless maggot — what the king Of all the lost would scorn to house in hell ! She rose in silence, silent slipped away Through the sea-shadows and their salt perfume, 66 BARHAM BEACH. Weak-pitiful her V)ody seemed to sway, And Theodore swift followed through the gloom, "Not going, friend ?"^ — "Yes, going, and alone, — i heard a voice that loud and louder grew, Till now it roareth to a thiiudor-tone, Swearing I am not fit to bide with you, — Oh, Theodore, my soul is sick with hate — Hate of that one who laughl me how to love — Jlate of uiy child — his child! on whom a weight Hangs leaden-heavy, — hate all else above Of this myself, this wretched mongrel I, Who have blushed only at mine outward shame, Bui now self- judged and damned am like to die, Transfixt by cruel conscience' mortal aim!" But Tlieodore clasped brotherly her hands. And soothing strove to guide her toward the light, Long pacing to and fro the quiet sands, While the Great Wain slow rumbled out of sight, And ever as slic blamed her darkened will, And ever as she said "Let be — let be! I am not worth tliy pains!" he answered still, "I have helped others, shall I not help thee?" And when she left him, long he strolling mused On the mysterious dim ways of Fate, Who had his weary wonted tasks refused. Decreed the fierce loud stress of toil should 'bate, Just for this summer, just the special hour When this one woman had such deadly need Of counsel, when with archangelic power lie for her fighting soul might intercede, — According to the turning of the scales, BARHAU BEACH. 67 She shoulfl go biased fortli for wronj;' or right, I Ifiicerorlh a creature of miasiua-dales, Or dwelling willi proud eagles on the height, — Siie should go forth a potion-brewing witeli, Cankered and soured, a tiling of s])ite and sneers, Meet for light loves and envy's eating iteli. Sowing dissension broadcast down the years, — Or else she should go forth a gracious queen. Noble as fair, most perfectly controlled To high clear purposes, whose calm serene White brow should be with sweetness aureoled, A woman to whose lips inspiring speech Should be germane as odor to the rose, Whose tender smile should its recipients teach Something of warm soft love the nestling knows, "Who should account it privilege to give Her life to hush her IVIlow creatures' cry, Helping besotted misery to live. And helping it, forespent and faint, to die. And did this awful