'if 01 
 
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 .T28 L6 
 1901 
 Copy 1 
 
 £ove'$ Uengcance 
 and other Poems 
 
 3obtt Denton $teeii 
 
/ 
 
Cove's Uengeance 
 ana Other Poems 
 
 3obn Denton Steell 
 
 Illustrated by H, G. Villa, 
 Los Angeles School of Art and Design 
 
 Lang-Chappel Tress, Los Angeles, California 
 
jTHP LIBRARY OF 
 I CONG^?ESS, 
 
 Two Copies Received 
 
 DEC. 26 i9( 
 
 Copyright entr 
 K<rv. 12. '^01 
 CLASS A/xXa (Mu, 
 
 I COPY d. 
 
 T 
 
 T:^? 
 
 It 
 
 Copyrighted igoi 
 By John Denton Stec II 
 
Preface 
 
 / offer this little booklet as my Jiumble contri- 
 bution to the literature of Southern California. 
 It is my firm conviction that this, "Our Italy." a.s 
 Charles Dudley Warner appropriately named it. 
 is destined in the course of time to emulate its 
 European prototype as a center of literature and 
 art. This, it seems to me. the incomparable cli- 
 tnate of this region, zchich enables the icriter as 
 ivell as tJie artist to pursue his labors ■:<-ith almost 
 equal comfort and facility at all seasons, its many 
 natural charms, ajid the generally high order of 
 cultiz'atiou prevailing among its people, bid fair 
 to insure. If I can contribute, in ever so snuill a 
 icay, to bring about this coiisummatiou. I shall 
 be zvcll content to forego such advantages, pecun- 
 iary and otherwise, as a zvider field might off'er. 
 
 J. D. STEELL. 
 
Contents 
 
 Love's Vengeance: 
 
 I. At the Opera. 
 
 II. After the Opera. 
 
 III. At Daybreak. 
 
 A Parting. 
 
 Passion. 
 
 What Is Love? 
 
 On San Diego Bay. 
 
 Query. 
 
 My Love. 
 
 Los Angeles. 
 
 Our Dead President. 
 
 Sonnets. 
 
flt tbe Opera 
 
 nsee her sit in her stage-box there, 
 With diamonds gleaminq- on wrist and throat. 
 RecHning with Hstlessly indolent air. 
 As the tenor strains at his topmost note. 
 
 I watch her, hid in my corner here. 
 
 In the shadowy gallery, the furtherest row, 
 
 And wonder to think that a single year. 
 One little year, could have changed her so. 
 
 For. though scarce twelve months have flown since I 
 Was her favored suitor, I know tonight 
 
 All between us has past as completely by 
 
 As if ages since then had winged their flight. 
 
 I have pressed her hands, I have kissed her lips ; 
 
 And yet, I suppose, should she meet me now. 
 She would give me a touch of her finger-tips. 
 
 Or dismiss me, perchance, with a frigid bow. 
 
Or, who knows, since she's wed to a millionaire, 
 Could she see me here, I'm not in her set, 
 
 She mi<:^"ht turn l)ut an instant a quiet stare 
 On my face throu<:;h her i^oklen-tipt lorgnette. 
 
 Yet, though T know her as false as fair. 
 The hopeless passion I thought was slain 
 
 vStarts to life at the sight of her heauty rare. 
 Despite my self-scorn and her disdain. 
 
 I see her turn with her sweet, rare smile. 
 To her wine-flushed husband seated near, 
 
 And the pang that thrills my heart the while 
 Proves me foolishlv weak, I fear. 
 
 Perchance 'tis the music hath stirred my blood. 
 For I feel as I gaze on her face tonight. 
 
 All my being o'erflowed like a lava-flood. 
 With a burning torrent of fierce delight. 
 
 Though I scarce on the stage-show turn my glance, 
 I know what its storv means too well ; 
 
 'Tis of one who loved by sad mischance, 
 -\ beautiful woman false as hell. 
 
 He his weapon draws to strike her (K'ad. 
 
 That siren-like creature, fair aud frail ; 
 .\nd T almost wish it were she instead. 
 
 And the stroke of the dagger might not fail. 
 
Can it be the love, the hate, the rage. 
 That thrilled fiery hearts in days of old. 
 
 Are as potent still in this hollow age 
 
 WHien we sell all things in the mart for gold? 
 
 There are ladies, fair as she, no doubt. 
 
 Who would grace for my passion deign to show ; 
 
 Then I wonder why must my heart go out 
 To a soulless image of frozen snow. 
 
 Since the sultan dropt her his handkerchief. 
 Could I wonder she stoopt to pick it up? 
 
 The joy of passion at best is brief, 
 
 And she drains her fill from wealth's golden cup. 
 
 The opera is over, the curtain falls. 
 
 The great throng goes surging towards the door 
 And the dream that tonight mv heart recalls. 
 
 Shall trouble me henceforth, I swear, no more. 
 
 For it is but fleeting, this jealous pain. 
 
 Half born of the music, the heat, the glare. 
 
 I am young and hereafter may love again, 
 A being more worthy. I'll not despair. 
 
 I will take my pleasure and live my life, 
 And yield me no more to a vain regret. 
 
 Who would foolishly keep in his breast a knife ? 
 Since she has forgotten, I'll, too, forget. 
 
Biur m Opera 
 
 nam sitting alone by my hearth to-night, 
 In my costly robes, and jewels rare; 
 While o'er them the red flames are flickerin"- liright 
 And my wan face set in its dull despair. 
 
 I can see it all in yon mirror's sheen, 
 The glistening- satin, the flashing stones, 
 
 Mv drawn, white face, and dejected mien, 
 And pale lips parted to utter moans. 
 
 At the opera I sat, but an hour ago. 
 
 And the music thrilled in its passionate strain ; 
 And I smiled, though my heart in its terrible woe 
 
 Beat fast, and throbbed with a deadly pain. 
 
 Scarce I noted the garish, painted scene, 
 Nor false, reckless Carmen's wanton guile ; 
 
 For remorseful thoughts of what might have l^ecn 
 Through my mind kept thronging all the while ; 
 
 And I heard in the music's pulsing swell, 
 As the plaintive viols wailed and wept, 
 
 A voice in incessant cadence well. 
 
 With a drearv burden of vain regret. 
 
The memory of young love's raptures sweet, 
 
 I ne'er might hope to know again, 
 Seemed to throb in my sad heart's every beat. 
 
 And Hke madness wrought in my fevered brain. 
 
 A[y husband sat near me with maudhn grin, 
 T feh his hot l;)rcath on my shoulders bare. 
 
 Could a wish have slain — God forgive mv sin ! 
 The man of millions had perished there. 
 
 In fancy another sat by my side. 
 
 With his tender smile, and glance so true ; 
 
 ]>ut he vanished ([uicklv, he would not bide, 
 And mv torturing anguish awoke anew. 
 
 I laughed, and talked with a careless air. 
 
 Of the heat, the crush, and the donna's song; 
 
 ^^'hile my soul kept wailing in wild despair : 
 
 "How long must I bear this? Oh God! how long 
 
 I saw, as I swept to my carriage, a face. 
 So woefully pale, 'mid the jostling crowd. 
 
 And a stalwart form, with its Ijoyish grac". 
 And dark eyes glanced on me cold and proud. 
 
 I fain to my dear love's breast would fly. 
 But my husband's arm to mine did cling. 
 
 Ah. could he have known the thoughts that I, 
 His bride of eight months, was pondering! 
 
Yonder he lies on his couch asleep, 
 
 With the flush of wine on his bloated face : 
 
 While I, his plaything, sit here and weep. 
 
 Bowed down with the sense of my vile disgrace. 
 
 1 have sold myself for these paltry gauds. 
 
 And the weary round of fashion's whirl. 
 Ah. these are the gifts that a vain world lauds. 
 
 And that I prized so as a thoughtless girl ! 
 
 r>ut now, a woman, too well I know 
 How worthless is all that I once thought bliss. 
 
 1 would give all that wealth could e'er bestow 
 For the rapturous joy of my dear one's kiss! 
 
 Love, outraged, has wrought a vengeance sure. 
 
 He his venomed shafts at my heart let fly. 
 Where they rankling lodged, and naught can cure 
 
 The wounds thev have made there till I die 
 
 I must tread my path to its dreary end, 
 
 While the Fates my' tangled life-skein weave : 
 
 And look to Death as my only friend. 
 
 For 'twere vain to strive to the past retrieve. 
 
 O God! how long must my journey be. 
 
 Through the desolate waste of barren years. 
 Where naught thrives but remorse's gnarled upas tree. 
 
 Whose roots are drenched with mv scalding tears. 
 
TTT. 
 m Daybreak 
 
 Hhe lies asleep, with red lips apart, 
 
 And rose-flushed cheeks, and her oentlc l)rculh 
 
 just stirring the laces ahove her heart; 
 
 And I feel as 1 view her the chill of death. 
 
 Ah, fool! I thought that gold could huy 
 That woman; now I know, at fearful cost. 
 
 That only the casket, the shell have I. 
 The jewel I sought for, her soul, is lost. 
 
 What ])rofits it all, the ceaseless strife, 
 'iMic breathless race for a golden pri/.e ? 
 
 We hut lose in its winning the good of life. 
 That at last flits vainly hefore our eyes. 
 
 As the mirage's waters crystal clear. 
 And waving palms, in a desert land. 
 
 To the eyes of travelers lost appear 
 Dving of thirst on the burning sand; 
 
 So the devil's juggling lies delude 
 
 L's purblind dupes who in them believe, 
 
 11 is glittering shams that at first illude. 
 Too soon we know meant but to deceive. 
 
At his booth wc barter youth and health. 
 The higher graees, true love's delight, 
 
 For his talisman, which men call wealth. 
 That at last works surely woe and l)light. 
 
 Oft men envy me my stately bride, 
 
 The sovereign of beauty, fashion's ([ueen. 
 
 Thev know not that a chasm deep and wide. 
 Is yawning ever us twain between. 
 
 I have given her riches, station, power. 
 
 And have decked her with jewels rich and rare. 
 
 Rut in vain these gifts I upon her shower. 
 They naught avail me ; she does not care. 
 
 1 dwell with her in this mansion grand. 
 
 Stored with all art's treasures ; yet gladl\- I 
 
 Would exchange with the meanest of the land. 
 For the love requited, gold cannot buy. 
 
 Last night at the opera she sat by my side, 
 Tn her languorous, calm, imperious grace ; 
 
 In her violet eyes a look of pride, 
 
 And a faint, sweet smile on her perfect face. 
 
 And the thought her love I ne'er could gain. 
 For one hour of which I with life would i)art. 
 
 With a pang of sudden, poignant pain. 
 
 Like a deadly knife-thrust pierced my heart ; 
 
While borne on the music's surging- flood, 
 Came a passionate cry of vain desire, 
 
 That with love's fever thrilled my blood, 
 
 Till it coursed through my veins like moulten fire. 
 
 1 watched on the stage the mimic show 
 
 ()f a man through passion's frenzy whirled 
 
 In a seething vortex of sin and woe ; 
 And at last to hopeless ruin hurled. 
 
 For me were but too dreadfully real, 
 The passion, the sin. the jealous rage; 
 
 For all these I even then could feel 
 
 Within my bosom their tumult wage. 
 
 What torment is there in deepest hell 
 
 To compare with passionate love denied? 
 
 Through its madness history's pages tell 
 Men oft in blood their hands have dyed. 
 
 And this primal instinct moves today 
 Our souls, as it did in times g^one by ; 
 
 And none can resist its potent sway. 
 
 Though through it life's hopes all shattered lie. 
 
 Who-so loves truly, loves till death ; 
 
 And I know I must love her still the same. 
 Till with my last faint, fluttering- breath. 
 
 In fond devotion I gasp her name. 
 
J\ Parting 
 
 I lis well you meet me witli a set, cold smile, 
 A word of commonplace, a frigid bow. 
 All is so changed in but a little while. 
 
 You loved me once, but do not love me now. 
 
 You fed the hungry monster in my soul. 
 Passion's fierce tiger, till it tore my heart. 
 
 You of love's larg-ess claimed the utmost dole. 
 Then coolly said the time had come to part. 
 
 Well, be it so, then. I will go my way, 
 And live my life, and if T may forget ; 
 
 l)Ut can you look into my eyes, and say 
 
 That vou can close the past without regret ? 
 
 Have \'ou no memory of hot kisses rained 
 Upon your lips, heart Ideating close to heart ' 
 
 Can you have over love such mastery gained 
 That it may nevermore to being start ? 
 
 I said I might forget, but 'tis not so. 
 
 I love you now, and shall until T die. 
 The fire yt)u've kindled in my In-east must glow. 
 
 Only to breathe out with my latest si"h. 
 
 So fare you well, for though we part for aye. 
 You shall not have one evil wish from me. 
 
 But if you l;ade me now, I would not stay ; 
 
 Since vou have wished it, vou are henceforth free. 
 
Pa$$lcn 
 
 }■ lady smiles upon me, 
 
 With a smile so sweet and rare ; 
 Her eyes are blue as heaven, 
 
 Like the sunshine's 2:old her hair. 
 
 My lady can coo and murmur, 
 
 In a tender undertone ; 
 Rut my lady's heart within her 
 
 Is cold and hard as stone. 
 
 I smile with my lady's pleasure, 
 I sif^'h when mv lady si^hs, 
 
 And all my daylight brightness 
 1 find in her lustrous eyes. 
 
 P)Ut I serve for Her Serene Highness 
 As the toy of a passing hour — 
 
 The slave of her wants and caprices. 
 The proof of her beauty's power. 
 
 I know the fair enchantress. 
 
 I have fathomed all her wiles. 
 I know how false are her kisses. 
 
 How doubly false her smiles. 
 
 And yet. at my lady's bidding, 
 I dance in my silken chains ; 
 
 Xor sigh for my once prized freedom. 
 While the wealth of her smile remains. 
 
Alas, for a man's free nature. 
 Bound fast in so weak a thrall ! 
 
 To give for so poor a guerdon 
 His life, his hope, and his all. 
 
 m 
 
 mM T$ Cove? 
 
 h, what is love, my dear one? Love is fire. 
 Consuming- all the soul with fierce desire. 
 All our life's treasure burn we on its pyre. 
 Oh, what is love, mv dear one? Love is fire. 
 
 Oh, what is love, my dear one? Love is pain. 
 Compound of doul)ts, and fears, and longings vain 
 Who once hath felt it, peace ne'er knows again. 
 Oh, what is love, my dear one? Love is pain, 
 
 Oh, what is love, my dear one? Love is light. 
 Its roseate radiance makes the whole world bright, 
 Nor is it quenched howsoe'cr dark the night. 
 Oh, what is love, my dear one? Love is light. 
 
 Oh, what is love, my dear one? Love is bliss. 
 No greater joy can e'er life know than this. 
 Two souls comingling in one sweet kiss. 
 Oh, what is love, mv dear one? Love is l)liss. 
 
On $an Diego Bay 
 
 a 
 
 are today 
 Slips away, 
 
 While I sail this rippling- bay. 
 
 Calmly I 
 
 Dreaming lie 
 'Twixt the green wave and the sky 
 
 Debonaire, 
 
 Light as air, 
 Swiftly skims my shallop fair, 
 
 'Till the light, 
 
 Golden bright, 
 Glimmering, flickereth on ni}- sight. 
 
 In the sky. 
 
 Far and high. 
 
 Fairy clouds like snow-wreaths tly 
 
 And I see 
 
 Endlessly- 
 Changing views of land and sea. 
 
 Mountains brown 
 
 On the town 
 Silently are looking down. 
 
 Hazy dim 
 
 Blue hills swim 
 Yonder bv the water's rim. 
 
Loma's height 
 
 Towers upright 
 Like a sentinel of might, 
 
 Where his song 
 
 Loud and long, 
 Chants old Ocean grand and strong. 
 
 Hark I hear, 
 
 Sweet and clear. 
 Gentle music strike mine ear. 
 
 As in rhyme 
 
 All the time 
 Round mv hark the wavelets chime. 
 
 Oh, how hlest 
 
 Thus to rest 
 Ever on the wave's soft hreast ; 
 
 Ne'er to know 
 
 Aught of woe, 
 Nor the false world's hollow show 
 
 Or on fleet 
 Wings to beat 
 
 To some far and safe retreat. 
 Where arise 
 'Neath bright skies 
 
 The fair isles of paradise. 
 
'Vhe last ray 
 
 Of the day 
 Fades upon my sight away ;• 
 
 And too soon 
 
 The pale moon 
 In the darkening heaven doth swoon. 
 
 All in vain 
 
 I would fain 
 This hrio-ht, fleeting hour retain. 
 
 Yet once more 
 
 Yon dark shore 
 Must I seek. Mv dream is o'er. 
 
 Query 
 
 hy seek ahroad the flower of tropic hloom, 
 When here the lovelv rose yields sweet perfume? 
 
 Why long in far-ofif realms to pitch thy tent, 
 A\ hen here a landscape fair yields sweet content .-' 
 
 Whv \earn for other love, when one dwells near 
 Readv with all her heart to hold thee dear? 
 
B 
 
 my Cove 
 
 cross the hills she trips alons^'. 
 The sunshine on her golden hair. 
 
 With ringing laugh and merry song, 
 As blithe as morning, and as fair. 
 
 Beneath her jaunty hat her face, 
 Mingling the lily and the rose. 
 
 Replete with every living grace, 
 
 In blooming health and beauty glows. 
 
 The very flowerets seem more fair. 
 That blossom 'neath her fairy feet ; 
 
 A brighter glory all things wear 
 
 The dewy morning seems more sweet. 
 
 I wonder if she dreams that I 
 Am waiting for her at the gate 
 
 To greet her as she passes by, 
 
 And tell my love, and learn my fate. 
 
 Oh, if my hope be not in vain, 
 If I alone possess her heart, 
 
 What better joy can I attain? 
 
 What richer gift can life impart ? 
 
m 
 
 Cos flngeles 
 
 ueen of the far-west land, rose-garlanded, azure-zoned, radiantly lovely 
 On a throne of amethyst, gold-chased, emerald emhossed. 
 Under a dome of stainless sapphire, sun-illumined, and curtained \vith silver, 
 Thou sittest in stately majesty, with aspect benign and serene. 
 
 Thus thou holdest thy regal state, while Day's light-robed spirits attend thee, 
 Who for thee bright-hued chaplets weave of fresh-blown flowers ; 
 
 And the mild, sweet-breathed Zephyrs, fair daughters of old Oceanus, 
 Fan thee with their downy pinions' gentle winnowings. 
 
 Then, watched by somber-vested Night, on an el)on couch thou reposeth, 
 
 'Neath a purple velvet canopy, decked with glittering stars. 
 And lit by the moon's pellucid lamp. Or when rosy-fingered Aurora, 
 
 With her burnished, golden key unlocks Morn's jeweled gates. 
 By thy joyous choir's sweet, silvery warblings awakened, 
 
 Cometh forth, like a fair vestal, veiled in filmy gauze. 
 Or, bathed in blushes, smileth. while Eve in thy bright, flowing tresses 
 
 Doth gleaming strands of rubies, topazes, and jacinths entwine. 
 
 Fair art thou, in all thy varied moods, O favorite child of the Sun-god, 
 Whose mother. Nature, hath with rarest charms endowed. 
 
 Her hand-maids, the seasons, diligent each in thy service, 
 To thee bear rich treasures from her plenteous stores. 
 
 Sweet, radiant Spring cometh laden with iris-hued blossoms, 
 To lightlv strew, with lavish hand, about thy feet. 
 
L'iLTce Summer, her fevered l)row cooled by thy fresh, l)ahny breezes, 
 
 Embroiders for thee royal robes of cloth of gold. 
 Placid, star-eyed Autumn, from the fields of her bounteous harvests, 
 
 Reareth in tribute luscious fruits and sparkling wines. 
 And austere Winter, thy charms to mildness sooths, rich, green, silken vestures, 
 
 For thee deftlv weaveth on silver shuttles of rain. 
 
 m 
 
 Our Dead President 
 
 (William McKinley died September 19th, 1901.) 
 o more of jester's gibe, or cynic's sneer. 
 
 Hushed are the jarring sounds of party strife. 
 Columbia's millions mourn beside his bier, 
 W^ho in our country's service gave his life. 
 
 Tn our great sorrow for our fallen chief 
 Xo room is there for rancour partisan. 
 
 This mighty people, bowed in pitying grief. 
 Own him at last the nation's favorite son. 
 
 'Tis not that at his best o'er land and main, 
 On wings victorious did War's eagles soar ; 
 
 And from the tremulous hands of ancient Spain 
 Her treasured jewels of the ocean tore. 
 
Nor that through him our great repubhc won 
 In the world's councils still a higher place ; 
 
 And laid on captive isles 'neath Orient sun 
 The strong dominion of our conquering race. 
 
 But that, after long years of storm and stress, 
 He saw at length a peaceful haven nigh, 
 
 Where, with his dear companion's love to bless, 
 His final years might pass untroubled by. 
 
 And as, twice chosen by the people's voice 
 The guiding head of our great ship of state. 
 
 We recognized in him the nation's choice ; 
 And so claim common interest in his fate. 
 
 When stricken by a miscreant's hand he fell, 
 A shuddering horror chilled each patriot's blood, 
 
 Over the whole vast land a shadow fell, 
 And rose the people's anger like a flood. 
 
 'Twas in our cause he suffered, therefore we, 
 As with some dear one, shared his every pang ; 
 
 And throughout his long week of agony. 
 Did on the tidings from his bedside hang. 
 
 And now that he, pain's weary vigil o'er. 
 
 Hath found relief in death's long, dreamless sleep. 
 
 In weeds of mourning we his loss deplore. 
 And o'er his hapless fate in pity weep. 
 
In this sad hour we know no thought save grief, 
 
 And execration of the fiendish creed 
 Of those who to all human promptings deaf. 
 
 Inspired in maniac's hrain this hellish deed. 
 
 In him, our martyred leader, now we see 
 
 I!ut one who served his country well and long — 
 
 A man of wisdom and integrity, 
 
 Who held his course with purpose true and strong. 
 
 The doom that laid him low in manhood's pride 
 Razed from our minds what in him seemed amiss : 
 
 In one great sigh the voice of censure died. 
 Drowned in the assassin's hullet's deadly hiss. 
 
 So on the marl)]e tahlets of his fame 
 
 No vestige now of l)lot or stain appears. 
 
 \'anished is all men might have ccnmted hlame. 
 Cleansed hy a sorrowing nation's pitying tears. 
 
m 
 
 Sonnets 
 
 eloved one, my spirit thrills to thee, 
 
 As doth the wind-harp to the breeze that plays, 
 
 Now sweet, now wild, discordant melodies. 
 What strain thou wouldst, that canst thou wake in me. 
 I am but that which thou would have me be. 
 
 Exert thy power, then, love, my soul to raise, 
 
 And purify, exalt, and not debase. 
 AIv guardian angel let me find in thee. 
 Then if my feeble songs can make thy name 
 
 Remembered, in the future men will say : 
 
 "Ijehold, this poet's lady did not scorn 
 His passionate love, nor brand his life with shame ; 
 
 Hut from her faithfulness and purity 
 
 A nobler nature was within him born." 
 
 n 
 
 he gentle moon controls the boisterous sea. 
 And leads his billows wheresoe'er she list, 
 With all his strength he cannot her resist ; 
 
 And so, beloved, neither can I thee, 
 
 liut still in all things must thy follower be. 
 
 And since by thy sweet lips my own are kissed. 
 Though far above me among clouds and mist 
 
 Thou shinest, still, O love, thou leadest me 
 
 Upward towards thee and Heaven. But I, alas! 
 
 Chained to the earth, can never mount to thee. 
 
 Though 'gainst the rocks my spirit's liillows dasli. 
 Beyond their boundaries I may not pass ; 
 
 Yet since such aim T have, though vain and rash, 
 
 Xot wholly lost thy truth and purity. 
 
^•« ae 1901 
 
1 COPY DEL. lOCAT.OIV. 
 DEC. 27 1901 
 
 ;AN. 4- 2S02 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 018 393 828 9