"-'ft !'•/■!■':* •• ■ V ■'■■•• .-.: .-.-i 7, Class r tp 3 B ^ 5" Book iLTi ^s Sn •fi;a^l fapvrighf ]j» ! 9 f "j CQF)3UGHT DEPOSm !ti! ,v- .-.;^;v,-">-, o,- »!• ■ -0,-..? • y-.-? ;.J r.-! ; , . .- ^ &oute anb 0tf^tx ^oems; ^oulg AND OTHER POEMS BY GLENN HUGHES MCMXVII PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY SAN FRANaSCO Copyright, 1917, by PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY San Francisco NOV -7 1317 ©C!.A477458 TO MY STEPMOTHER CORA BROUGHTON HUGHES WHO FILLED MY CHILDHOOD WITH POETRY AND WHOSE LOVE AND PATIENCE HAVE BEEN MIRACLES IN MY LIFE Contents! PAGE Souls 3 Carmel Valley — A Memory 4 Morning Song 6 The Burden Bearer 7 The Element Shop 8 Understanding Never 10 A Las Novias Tristes — Cuento de Labios en Flor 11 Roles 14 J'ai Cherche Trente Ans, Mes Soeurs ... 15 La Flute Amere de L'Automne 16 Monterey 17 I Have Grown Very Tired 18 Snow Falling 19 Prayer of the Aesthete 20 All Merry are the Lighted Streets Christ- mas Day 22 Black and White 24 Revolt 25 Conviction 26 A Conception 28 Transformation 30 Over Lummi 31 V Contents; PAGE Across the Sea 32 Illusion 33 I Have Builded a Citadel 34 Song .36 In Absence Z7 Ships 38 From a High Hill 40 By the Way 42 Song in Absence 44 Hic Jacet 45 Incident 46 Sonnet to Silence 48 The Path of No Returning 49 Thou Temptress, Moon ! 50 Through My Latticed Window 51 Look, Love, upon the Sea 52 Thoughts on a Spring Night 54 Fire of the Desert 55 Spring Morn 56 A Tent-light on the Desert 58 Three Kisses 59 Like Death 60 Night Song 62 VI ^oute anti 0tbtv ^oerns; When I have vanished from the ranks of men And joined the greater caravan That treads far spaces, I wonder, O Beloved of the earth, what you will be to me. I think I shall forget the rose — Dear, delicate brother of the soil; I think I shall forget the sea — Grey, wild waste of mystery; I think I shall forget the fields — Wide, warm cradle of the living; These are of the earth, as is my body. But how. Beloved, when I join the caravan, Can my immortal soul forget its light. Transcendent beauty of a kindred sort. Flaming through the corridors of being Alive, ever alive ! Spark of the white, imperishable light Burning in the hand of God? Carmel ^allep— ^ iWemorp To A.V. The moon last night took me away A thousand miles from here; To where a silent valley lay And where the sea was near. Along the hill a white road ran, It twisted, rose and fell; I could not see where it began, Its end I could not tell. And somewhere there was lilac wild, It drifted on the air; That may be why the pale moon smiled And why the stars were fair. Across the valley, dim below, A wavering night-wind crept; And stirred the grasses to and f ro— They murmured as they slept. Far down the little river dreamed, And glided to the sea; It sang no song, but rather seemed Blind to its destiny. And ere it reached the thin white line That glinted on the shore, A pallid mist, silken and fine. The sea sent on before. It wrapped the river in its arms, And kissed its languid eyes; With warm breath and with drowsy charms It stilled the river's sighs. And so the river died in sleep. Murmuring not a word; Only the grasses cared to weep — Their tears the night- wind heard. The white road lay along the hill, The moon took me away; I could have wept — I could weep still, I wanted so to stay. Awake! awake! For Dawn has scaled the battlements of Night And lo! the East is glorified with light! Awake! awake! Yo-ho ! yo-ho ! Come o'er the sea — there is a merry gale! Come o'er the land — wild flowers are in the vale! Yo-ho! yo-ho! Ha-ha! ha-ha! This wine of life is ah! so sweet to sip! That Death shall find — a smile upon my lip ! Ha-ha! ha-ha! 6 Ste Purben fearer You ask why poets seem so old and grave, And why their forms are very often bent — Their faces furrowed, eyes deep with intent And lights that speak of many things they crave And cannot find. And so you ask what gave These strange appearances — what fires God sent Through human mind and limb that could have lent Outward distortions when the soul was brave. Ah, have you seen the twisted cypress tree, Bearing the sorrows of a thousand years? The poet stands upon a high, bare point, And, like the cypress, listens to the sea — A sea made out of myriad human tears, That rise about him, and his feet anoint. tEfie Clement ^f)op Have you ever heard tell of the Element Shop Away out where the West and the East both stop, And the old world knows neither bottom nor top? 'Tis a wonderful place to see; For the walls of the Shop are the great Four Winds, With a pattern of lightning that flares and blinds. And the ceiling is thunder that roars and grinds. As it rolls like a mad sound-sea. And the rain plays tag with the flashing sunbeams. And the snow whirls softly beneath the moon's gleams. While light winds are passing — light winds of our dreams — Wildly happy to play so free. 8 In the Element Shop all the Elements play, And they know not nor care to know Night from Day, As they wait the summons that calls them away — Tis a summons they cannot flee. The Gods of the Universe barter and sell, And the Elements follow their biddings well From uppermost Heaven to nethermost Hell- And the Gods chuckle loud with glee. Ah ! the Element Shop is a wonderful shop, Away out where the West and the East both stop, And the old world knows neither bottom nor top — But alas! only God can see! ®nber£(tanbins iOtebet You who are ever sweeping ahead of me, Tell me — what are you ? I have seen you in the form of fresh flowers Waving in the hill-wind. I have seen you rising in grey folds,with blue lustre in your eyes, and a red flare on your lips, When I have gazed at fire. I have seen you rocking in the white spray under the sun. When I have looked to sea. And ever, waking or sleeping, sorrowful or mad with joy, my heart sings with a music Made for you, And which I can never understand. 10 !9 %ai Jtobiasf ^tiitti Cuento de Labios en Flor From the Spanish of Martinez Sierra Haste! for the servant has brought Shrouds for the burial. Lo! Petals of Jasmine have caught Snow-like on foliage, and naught Breathes but of death and of woe. Maker of Coffins, prepare. Seek in the forests of pine, Wood filled with odors so rare. Breathing of Spring, sweet and fair — Soft for the dead to recline. Build you the coffin with nails Molded of silver, and bright. Then with the sound of the flail Let free the heart-piercing wail, Prayer to the Powers of the Night. Late in the night do you creep Where 'neath the black coffins' top Both of the dead maidens sleep; Pluck from the sky's bluest deep. Stars — 'tween their lips let them drop. 11 Call back the maidens in dreams, Back to the warm April morns, Back to the golden sun's beams, Back to the morning dew's gleams — Sounding the tabor and horns. Ah ! that between shrouds so drear, Beauteous Virgins should lie! Maker of Coffins, build here Two caskets, rich-carved, a bier Fashioned to hold the most high. Line them with silk, soft and fine — Both, let them both be the same; Each is of Springtime a sign. Deck them with jewels that shine — Splendor, they each shall proclaim. One shall be carved for Rose, One more for Blanche shall be made; One shall be white, and pale rose. One shall be white as the snows, Rose-tinted — neither shall fade. 12 Caskets, pink-white, to be wrought. Builder of Coffins, make haste — Haste! for the shrouds have been brought, Petals of Jasmine have caught Snow-like on foliage — make haste! 13 When the winds blow and men go Down to the sea and out on the sea in ships, When the night cries with its blind eyes And a moan is trembling on its icy lips, I am asking in my own heart What is my part ? For there's warmth here, and there's no fear Of the waves' slash or the wild wind that comes riding; In a white light there's no fright. And in a city house there's no terror hiding. That's why it's hard to say: ^Things should be this way." 14 3F'ai Cfiercfie Crente Mm, Mti ^oeursi (I Have Searched Thirty Years, My Sisters) From the French of Maurice Maeterlinck Thirty years have I searched, sisters, Ah ! where can it be ? Thirty years have I searched, sisters, Still it eludes me. Thirty years have I marched, sisters. Tired my feet, and sore. It was everywhere, my sisters, Now it is no more. That sad hour has come, my sisters, Lay my sandals by — E'en the evening dies, my sisters, Sick at heart am I. ^ Thou art now sixteen, my sisters, Follow then roads new. Take my pilgrim staff, my sisters, Go ! and search thou, too. IS Ha jFlute ^mere be H'^utomne (The Sad Flute of Autumn) From the French of Andre Ferdinand Herold The sad flute of the autumn wails Upon the dying eve; The wet trees shiver, dead leaves fall — The very heavens grieve. The wild flowers droop and gently die; The birds have flown. Alas! Where can another April sing Its song through swaying grass ? And you, my soul, do pass, heart-sick. Forsaken paths along. You seek, alas ! pale traveler. In vain, the vanished song. Ah, love, the songs which charmed us once, In autumn ne'er return — Yet shall I not see those eyes laugh In which the tears now burn? 16 iWonterep To J. E. P. A fishing fleet and a crooked street, With a soldier at every bar; A 'dobe wall, where the lizards crawl, And a screechy, wobbly car. A darksome sky with the fog blown high, And a quiet, purple bay; A Spanish song as we passed along — And that was Monterey. 17 3 f^abe (Sroton "^erp tKireb I have grown very tired Of hearing Right and Wrong discussed And disputed and modified And discussed again. So 1 have made up my mind To talk no more about them And to listen To Truth Which is within me. 18 ^noto jFaUing On the light wind from the great North is the white snow riding, riding, Silent as death, and sweet as virgin love; Over the dark earth, where hideous things lie sleeping. Flutters the stainless garment of the heaven. O love that in the lilac-blooming hours of vagrant summers Fell dimly star-like through the gorgeous night, How mercifully white and cool-breathed are thy kisses. Falling, falling, trembling in their imperishable beauty, Fluttering on the light wind of departing years, Hoyering immaculate, and descending Softly, sweetly, ever white and ever caressing, Upon my bitter heart, where sorrow sleeps. 19 draper of tift ^efittjete Lord God who taught us how to rise Above dull mediocrity, We thank Thee for the whitened skies That none but us can ever see. It is not that we would look down In mockery on all the rest, As wise man contemplates a clown, With sneer that kills the other's jest. But merely this: who is the man That, tasting new and sweet delights, Will fail to pity whom he can. And glory in his new-found rights? Tis seldom. Lord, that in this life There flashes out of dreary days A joy as keen as any knife To cut us free from sodden ways. But sometimes there is heard a song, Or, say, the sun has kissed the hills; The moon gleams white and lingers long. Or maddened sea its hate distils. 20 Whate'er the pleasure, though 'tis brief. The ecstacy is worth our pain, One joy is worth a world of grief; And all our waiting is not vain. Lord God, we would not lose our power, Though keener suffering is its price; We are content to have our hour Of finer joy — let that suffice. And so we thank Thee, God of Light, Who saves from mediocre Hell; From out this whirling pit of night We ask one thing: to live life well. 21 ^U Mtttp are tiie Higfjteb Streets CijrtiStmaif Bap To O. E, All merry are the lighted streets, Full-throated is the song, And the song is a carol. I have wondered what it meant. I have looked out over the sea when the mist was upon it, I have waited in the streets when men went by, I have stared at the moon when it hung like a Chinese lantern And crinkled in the water between itself and me; I have seen the first snow, And felt its white hand of beauty on my brow. I have seen dull faces And dull eyes. And heard dull voices; But they have changed. And I know why most of them have changed — It is because work is over, \ 22 And there are things waiting to be eaten. They are right to be happy. But I, and others — few others and therefore the wisest — Have drawn another conclusion. Here it is: Pity has lighted another candle (Love is the flame) Along the road, And though we know the road has no end, We follow it — because it has no end. And our eyes flash into the dark. As though we desired to behold Truth Naked, and all at once. We know that it would strike us blind, yea, obliterate us! But the candle illuminates another hill, And the road climbs up its side into the dark. We follow! It is our inheritance! We know that there are candles to be lighted on ahead ! 23 Plack anb WWt A crow and a dove sat on the selfsame tree. ''Caw!" said the crow. ''Coo!" said the dove. Now the crow was all disheveled: he had been pelted With rocks and divers missiles hurled in anger. Not so the dove; He sat serene: perhaps he contemplated On a dove-like heaven, or else A crow-like hell. "Damnation!" cawed the crow. "This is your fault! If you had never existed With your whiteness and serenity The world would never have known That I was black, and a nuisance." "Coo-o-o!" said the dove. 24 Bebolt Grey, Dull, pallid, overhanging dreariness. Bathing the room in a colorless desolation Like the hue of a sickly, burnt-out soul. Steam, Hissing thinly, maliciously, Like the gossip of sharp-nosed women Who sit in their prim parlors. Nothing else — Oh, yes! Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack. From the nickel-plated clock in the far corner — It seems to have grown into the room. It is hard to be conscious of its flat, metallic melody. Great God ! and this is life ! Life which I shall never live again ! Let me out ! let me out ! Somewhere I shall find a flash of sunlight, or a wild sweep of wind over a hill. Or a maiden smiling. 25 Conbtctton I am my own religion ; you are yours. Whatever gods we have we each have made. And he who says to you, '^Accept my god!*' Has said, ''Accept me!'' Thus is truth betrayed. And ever do men follow in the dark. Burning a sacrifice to one before; As though the past could hold eternity, And future hold no wisdom in its store. The present pulls, insistent, at our minds, And crushes if we heed her not at all; But what is she beside infinity? A star that trembles, waiting but to fall. And who am I to shape your destiny? Alas, it seems men turn to gods, these days. Solicitous god-fathers, shaping souls; And pointing out the errors of our ways! 26 Small wonder that In all the long-dead years, The path of life was lit by countless fires! Fires fed by bodies of the men who knew, And laughed aloud from sacrificial pyres. I am my own religion; you are yours. Whatever gods we have we each have made. And fear not! When eternity revolves, Be not of any other's god afraid. 27 ^ Conception The things we should have done and did not do Array themselves like ghosts before our eyes. And every morn that starts our life anew Brings on new ghosts to take us by surprise. What shall we say? What is there to be said? We understood, and yet we did not act. Shall we but hang a humble, contrite head, And pray for mercy to the All- wise Fact ? Or shall we throw regrets upon the wind, And face the future with a new-born sight ? Condemn the dusty past, and try to find A new eternity in every night? This much we know: the soul is like a star, And is not made and unmade in an hour; But stands against the winds that blast and scar, Like some divine, imperishable flower. 28 The things we might have done and did not do Passed like the winds that blew from out the Space; And lo ! our souls that are no longer new Turn forward each a strong and starlike face! 29 Kvmsiiovmation Great God ! was ever aught more fair Than the virgin moon asleep in the tranquil heavens ? From the harsh and troublous day With its noises and its glamour And its surge of human discord, I escape to thee, Mirror of my radiant soul, And once more, As if by a divine miracle, I am made clean and holy and at peace with all things. 30 0\}tv Hummi The steps of Night quicken, The wind stills to a faint breath- Cool from the high snow crevices of distant hills; Over the sea, Where through the day the grey and purple shadows have been dancing, Comes a slow and soft-toned pink, Flooding the waters With its strange and delicate blushes, Till they push upon the land, And the slapping wavelets turn them back. Piling them on each other In rippling confusion. See! up over the waves, Out, far out through the hovering mist of evening. Flaring like a wound in the breast of heaven. Crimson and gold, and dripping streams of light On the jagged and darkening island, The Sun cries, '^Hail! Farewell!" 31 In the wild rain and the hot, pulsating sunlight Of a southern island that is strange to me, You sit, you girl with eager eyes. And 1 remember That all your dreams were woven of fine stuff, Brocaded things that startled with their beauty. But here in the far north. Where grey is eternally on the land and on the sea, I, too, have woven dreams not unlike yours; And I am lifted up. Burning with a new flame. Inwardly exalted to a high heaven of understanding. To know that space is nothing. And that dreams are everything! 32 I saw a star break through the evening sky, And as it split the bowl of blue it said: *'Lo! night is come!" I turned to where thou stood'st beside me watching, And looked within thine eyes; And then I said: "Beloved, the star spake a lie. For behold! I see the day!'' 33 3 ^atie iButlbeb a Cttabel I have bullded a citadel round my heart; Through the years of my youth eagerly have I builded, And the citadel is of dreams, And therefore strong. Now at last I am sitting alone with the towers and minarets Pricking the sky of my fancy. A cloud passes Hark ! what is that at the gates ? It is not a clatter; it is not a booming; nor is it aught that 1 have ever heard before! I thought at first it was music, And then a wave of perfume, Or the fluttering of leaves In a midnight wind. But the towers tremble, And the lights in the minarets are shaken — A star falls 34 Now I can hear it! There are footsteps on the marble staircase, Drawing nearer, nearer; they have almost reached me — I am struck blind with an exalted fear, a divine grief! Beloved ! The citadel is falling It is sacred dust at our feet! We will gather it up in our bare hands And build an altar to Truth. 35 Whenever I have seen a flower Kissed with summer dew Tve known that it was by God^s power The tender blossom grew. Whenever stars burst through the night All radiant and divine I knew that God gave them their light And bade them sweetly shine. And now at last my soul has learned The thing of all most true — Ah, deep within my heart 'tis burned, That God made you, made you! 36 3n ^hitntt Tonight there rose a star so fair Across the misty sea; And as I watched it burning there Behold! I gazed at thee! Each night I shall with eager eyes Seek out thy blessed face; And lo ! within my heart shall rise Peace — and an untold grace! 37 The ships that are Alaska-bound Ride bravely forth against the sky, And we who watch along the Sound And lift our eyes when they go by Can only stand and gaze and sigh. At dawn when all the sea is grey, A phantom ship slides through the mist; And to the northward cuts her way, As if to keep a ghostly tryst, With some far sea that she has kissed. At midday when the sun is lord, A gleaming ship drives through the deep; Her prow is like a curved sword. Slashing the sea with every leap. And winning north with valiant sweep. At twilight when the sky is red, A ship of flame, so strange and pale. Like some poor wandering cloud that fled The blazing sun, with drooping sail Lies calm, forlorn, in night's silk veil. 38 When moonlight glimmers on the land, And dances on the silent sea, A ship, drawn by the night-wind's hand. Glides like a spirit-shape set free On through a dim eternity. The ships that are Alaska-bound Ride bravely forth against the sky. And we who watch along the Sound May never know until we die Aught else of these ships passing by. 39 Jfrom a ^isij ?|ill From this high hill above the city's heart The day dies splendidly. No wrack or anguish sees the light depart, But peace, from oflf the sea. Far down, long towers of smoke lean with the wind. Above the huddled shops; The sun, blood-orange, glimmers dim behind, And paints the high hilltops. The night that gathers thus, silent and swift, Seems not of day the foe; But rather some dark mistress come to lift Day out of human woe. Sweet-lipped and dreamy-eyed she hovers down, Her hair in fragrant folds; And in the fluttering rapture of her gown. The pallid stars she holds. 40 Red sun, and whiter light upon the land, She wraps within her arms; And lo! the very softness of her hand Stills all the world's alarms. 41 Pp tfje Wap Five fingers of a maple leaf, All red and green and brown ; Upturned beside the clean-swept path, That runs beyond the town. Think not I do not see thee there, Nor understand thy call ; I know full well thine every word — My heart, it keeps them all. 1 hear thee say, "Forsake thy toil And come with me away. To where the Autumn holds her court, And paints a brilliant day. "Where curtains are of shining red. And carpets are of gold; Where sun and mist woo every hill. And fragrance fills the wold. "Where not a human voice is heard, Nor any plaint of woe; No soul cries out against the night, Nor arm strikes down a foe. 42 "But one thing speaks — it is a wind, That blows from heaven's gate; And all it says is this one song: 'Come, ere it is too late!' *' Five fingers of a maple leaf, All red and green and brown — A kindly hand upturned to me. To lead me from the town. I would with all my yearning heart That I might heed thy call; But I must pass thee rudely by, And seek a dreary hall. 43 ^ons tn ^bitntt When falls the dusk of discontent, And the long hours flare and fade Like dim and distant candle-lights The wind has made afraid — What shall I then seek,0 my love? Shall it be the cool of the western wind, Or the sea, with its heavy breath ? The red, mad dance of the sodden soul, Or the soft, white sleep of death ? For these kill discontent, my love. Nay, not for me shall these things serve. Though earth grow black as doom. For I shall sit here quietly And see, beyond the gloom. Thy face's rapture, O my love. 44 l^k Sfattt . . . Behold this purple evening by the sea! With far and misty moonlight streaming through; And western wind that carries light and free The fragrance of the summer evening's dew. Ah, cherished hopes that fade out with the stars, And make our dreams the vague, uncertain lights We live by, hold but for this hour the bars That change our brilliant dream-morns into nights ! Be with us yet, ye moons that pierce the dark. And cross the purple shadows of our days! For wide the sea is where we must embark, And few the lights that cheer us on our ways. Too soon some purple evening by the sea With far and misty moonlight streaming through Will find us where the west wind loves to be, And we shall be — but summer evening's dew! 45 incibent A clatter in the narrow court, The ambulance engine's throb; Then footsteps, orders — low and short — The turning of a knob. And something to support. Four men in white — such noiseless men- Bear swiftly through the door The Thing that's covered. Quickly then More figures join the four — The Thing moves on again. They lay it on a marble space. Within four whitened walls; And then they bare the covered face, And lo ! about it falls A mass of golden lace. It is not hair — the kind we know — It falls in folds of light, Like clouds star-flecked that westward go With coming of the night — All red and gold they glow. 46 White marble is the table-top, And red-gold is her hair; And in a stream that will not stop Red blood runs down her hair, And stains the marble top. The white men gather close around, And touch her thin, white hands. That lie across her breast, close-bound With long and golden bands Of hair that they unwound. One cheek lies bare beneath the hair, No more than this revealed; And pale with Death this cheek— and fair! What secret Death concealed Will hide forever there. 47 bonnet to Silence Silence is sweeter far than any sound, And dearer than the words we blunder o'er. What nameless peace we draw from out its store ! What ecstacy that speech has never found ! And often in such silence I have wound, With blessed reverence unknown before. Thy hair about my face — loving thee more Than any king his queen whom he has crowned. So silence is, and we who know its charm Shall seek within its rapture-halls for peace And unmarred love that heeds not time nor place — The silence-world where fear and loud alarm Of living, fighting, failing, ever cease — And I shall wind thy hair about my face. 48 Clje ^atl) of Mo l^eturnms The sun has laid a path of gold Across the sober stretch of sea, And if one walks that path, I'm told, He is forevermore set free. No cry of pain can follow him, Nor can his weary eyes look back; The years behind grow far and dim — He sees naught but the golden track. Where does it lead ? Not one can tell ; But this much we can know is true: That he who follows long and well Does not come back to me and you ! 49 Thou Temptress, Moon, so pale across the sea, With silver, gleaming arms outstretched to me, While we two walk abroad this summer night ! Ah, Lovely Mistress of the Land of Light, Thou canst not draw me from the lips of one Whose very presence thou indeed shouldst shun For shame and envy to be thus excelled. These many nights have she and I beheld Thy lonely splendor from this self-same shore — Thy radiance mantling her whom 1 adore. And blending lips and eyes and tangled hair Into a lovely and a fragrant snare For such a heart as mine. So, Temptress pale. Thy beauty is not all without avail. We leave thee thus — thy gleaming arms still spread Across the sea, thy gently drooping head Soft-cushioned in the blankets of the sky — But we shall see thee more — My Love and L 50 tCijrougi) jMp Hatticeb IS^inboto My latticed window opens on the street, And when night closes in upon the day, I listen at my window for the feet Of one who climbs the hill to pass this way. And, waiting here, I catch the lilac's smell. And hear the rolling melody of surf — The pines above the house have cast their spell In lengthening shadows on the wild-grown turf. Dear Heart, the day has not been all misspent If you but keep the promise of your eyes And follow here the lilac's magic scent To take my latticed window by surprise. 51 Hoofe, Hotie, upon tlje ^ea Look, Love, upon the sea — The ripples, moonlit from the brow of heaven. The high and lighted places through yon tree, Where holy whiteness hangs, And there is no discord ! One solemn breath that lingers as a sigh From lips half parted — spoke to one adored — A sigh, and that is all. Yet, Love, beyond the sea. Beyond the whitened ripples and the light, Where such a night as this can never be. Are dark, eternal woes! Are far and misty places! Where cold unloveliness sojourns, and love Is stranger. See, the hideous, mist-blown faces Look out upon us now! 52 Love, let us leave the sea — Leave far behind the agony of sin, From deathlike visions of the cold mist flee And seek the high hills' peace, The tall pines' quietness! It is a darksome world — beyond this place— And lest the one of us should love the less, Come ! Let us leave the sea ! 53 tKfjougfjte on a Spring J^istjt Light air of the spring-born night, Smoke-haze of the softening light, And the day gives up its strength. Shops darken — doors swing to; Footsteps dwindle to a few. And I walk the dim street's length. Yellow-blue and yellow-grey — These are the dying tints of day. Misty-dim are the city's lamps — Misty-dim from the mellow damps, And down the dim and yellow way I pass. Beloved, if thou were but here! The mist-dimmed night would then grow clear, The unnamed stars, love-born, would shine, And this dull air become rich wine To drown ourselves in ! . . . Ah, a tear, Instead. 54 jFire of Hje JBtitxt The sun set red tonight ! And oh, if thou had stood With me beneath that light Which flamed above the sand, Thou could have understood Things I now understand — The sun set red tonight ! The sun set red tonight ! And all the purple mist — That mist of our delight — Grew rose-red on the hills. And all the clouds were kissed And made red as the hills — The sun set red tonight ! The sun set red tonight ! And as I saw the world Flame red beneath the light I saw two hearts of youth Blend rose-red with the world- The rose-red world of youth — The sun set red tonight! 55 S>prms jWiorn Out of the East, grown grey, Silently, Dawn was born. Out of the Dawn grew Day, Blossoming into Morn. Lo! as the young Morn breathed. All of the sweet flowers woke, Shaking the perfumed dew Loose from their velvet cloak. Petals of peach-bloom fell Fluttering on the wings. Light wings of East-blown winds — Winds that the warm Dawn brings. So, as the young Morn came, Flower-folk, passion-wrung. Loving too much, drooped low. Quivered, then fell, far-flung. E'en so did my full heart — Gift of the budding Spring — Open to welcome Morn, Of him did my soul sing. 56 My heart — as fallen flowers — When the Morn's soft breath came Laden with drowsy love, Withered from love's own flame. Out of the West, grown grey. Silently, Night was born. Night, he who brings the Day, Blossoming into Morn. 57 ^ t!i;ent=Iisi)t on tfje ©efiert Desert night ! and all the red And gold of desert day has fled, Leaving the sands — Those changing sands — As cold and dreary as the dead, In desert night. Solitude! not e'en the wind Dares break the desert spells which bind The silent sands — Night, desert sands — And in them shall I never find But solitude? Thy tent-light! ah, there it gleams Afar in desert night, its beams Thrown o'er the sands — Night, desert sands — Beloved, I shall seek in dreams Thy far tent-light! 58 Three kisses are to each man given, Three, and only three. Each kiss is one third part of heaven; The soul is but these three. The first is at the mother's breast. The kiss of birth; The second is love's kiss, the best, (We know love's worth) ; The third is death's kiss, white and blest. Farewell to earth. 59 Hifee ©eatfi Sometimes when I have looked upon the sea, In moonlight, or beneath the brighter sun, I have been moved to say, 'That is like Death." An endless, governed restlessness of waves, Lapping the myriad sands of unknown shores. And yet a heavy liquid peace within, A strong, strange bosom of eternity. Sometimes, too, I have looked upon the land, When miracles of seed have hailed the spring, And then, too, have I said, 'That is like Death." A bursting from the embryo of Life, Into the fulness of a thousand fruits. The radiant flowering of the obscure spark Into a world of God-like magnitude. 60 Again, I have looked straight into the sun, And, blinded by its universal light, I have said to myself, 'That is like Death." A space which body never can traverse, A vast, exultant rhythm, and a warmth Which clutches at the soul, and draws it in, Uniting it forever with its fire. 61 I am braiding my hair in the dark, O my love, And the touch of my hands on the sweet- smelling strands Sings a song in the dark, O my love. There's a wind, a wild wind, on the sea, O my love, And a storm on the hill,that I fear may blow ill- Ill to you and to me, O my love. I am ever afraid when I wait, O my love, And I turn down the light, for my eyes they are bright — Oh, so bright when I wait, O my love. I have let down my hair, soft and sweet, O my love, And it covers me well, like a shield from a spell. And it kisses my feet, O my love. 62 I am braiding it now in two strands, O my love, And I pray that this night it may wind itself tight O'er your face and your hands, O my love. 63 m- HERE, THEN, END THE VERSES OF DREAMS, YEARNINGS AND JOYS OF LIFE HY GLENN HUGHES ENTITLED SOULS, PRINTED ON TUSCANY HANDMADE PAPER AND MADE INTO A BOOK BY PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY AT THEIR TOMOYE PRESS IN THE CITY OF SAN FRANCISCO, UNDER THE CAREFUL DIRECTION OF RICARDO J. OROZCO, IN THE MONTH OF OCTOBER, NINETEEN HUNDRED SEVENTEEN i»# is EScffiK^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 897 889 1