^-^mr-f ..,,,,„, ,.,^ mmsm. '^f^^ff,' LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Slielf,Jg.L6 m UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 'p^^m XiUUTA^PfWAUiTAi ^^A^g^^'.^^^^,--^ .»'-o/^^ \f\r^Ai^ \hf^m !fiyimyfil AnO^AA/^AOOAAA/^'; ^n^W^, ^^^•^^'i.^.^m A,^..A^AWa- \^f\M ^^/^^^^Ar^i^^^C f^^m^.'^ : AAAA/ A.'^.5riH/lWR ^^^^^r^A' ^a^^^a: -J-^SSi^^S^Mvr^' ■A/^,''^,:^' ■ ,o' ' ■' 'YsAArN 1^^.W/^^< .^^*S.>.nAi .AAaA sA/^A^^^ e''«'«&ss Sl^ m.A'^^^,j(5aAi,-isg>>?i^MMA liiHSCPPfU^ AaAAAa LOVE POEMS AND SONNETS Love Poems and Sonnets OWEN INNSLY V ^eronU !5tii: BOSTON A- WILLIAMS AND COMPANY Old Corner Bookstore 1882 ^^ Copyright, 1882, By a. Williams & COc University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. 3k DEDICATION. Mov'sT thou, perchance, in strange and starry spheres Afar, beyond the impenetrable night That shrouds the tomb, smiHng at the old fears Of death, encircled by all-conquering light ? Or dost thou sleep where thy last bed was made, Beneath the violets and the scented grass, Careless alike of sunshine and of shade, Of morns that linger and of eves that pass ? Ah ! who shall say ? No eye can pierce the dark. No strained ear tidings catch of weal or woe Out of the silence ; and no single spark Illumes that portal through which all 8 DEDICA TIOJV. Yet this we know : Death is a kind of birth, And brings one sacred immortality ; Thou livest in thy traces left on earth ; Thou livest in thy children's memory. And one of these, binding the varied flowers, With tinted petals and with shining leaves, Fall'n on his path in sad and happy hours, As one might bind the ripened corn in sheaves, Dear blossoms of the heart and brain, — such sprays And blooms as wither not, but nod and wave Forever, — the completed garland lays With loving hands upon thy quiet grave. CONTEXTS. PAGE Dedication 7 LOVE POEMS AND 50XXET5. Waiting . 15 Nature and Love 17 Helen 20 An Evening Ride 24 Departure 26 CuiZ:-:^ 2S A Zrti- :: Dea;li 30 T^ie Ee::er Par: 33 Compensation 35 Gifts of the Gods 37 Shadows 39 A Rosary jlz Helena's Song ......... 41 Amor Leggero 42 Burnt Ships 44 Outre-Mort 45 Light-Houses 47 Laurels 49 lO CONTENTS. PAGE Jewels .... 51 Liebesbitte 53 My Queen 54 " One \Yay of Love " 56 Mortalis 58 Thine Eyes 60 Dependence 62 Submission 64 Love's Calendar 65 Islands -67 Snow-Drops 69 Love's Abode 71 Storm and Calm • • ' 72 Serving 75 The Burden of Love 'jy A Simile 78 Blossoms of Love 79 Deprecation 81 Nepenthe S3 Si> ZwT-^p ... 84 In a Letter 86 Titles 88 After Absence 90 Bondage 92 Witch-Hazel 93 Calm 95 Symphonic Fantastique 97 Idem non Aliter 98 CONTENTS. 1 1 PAGE The Sleeping Beauty 99 Friendship and Love 102 The Troubadour 104 " The Greek Youth '' 106 Wanderleben ic8 Her Roses no At the Convent 112 Faust and Helena 113 Two Figures 116 Service 118 Communion 120 MISCELLANEOUS. Impatience 125 Im Freien 127 Propitiation 129 Musa Loquitur 131 Waking 133 The Rose and the Statue 136 Wonders 138 In Memoriam 141 From Naples to Rome 144 Giardino Giusti 146 Fountains in Rome 148 A Roma 150 On the Pincian 152 Aftermath 155 A Prayer 157 12 COX TEXTS. PAGE Xa?pe! 158 Schumann's Symphony in B Flat Major 160 Joachim 162 Rubinstein 163 Chopin 165 "Mein Tag war heiter, glucklich meine Nacht " 167 To R. W. E 169 Chaucer 171 At Sea 173 A Voyage 176 Kings 178 Weaving 180 A Shattered Glass 182 Surplus 184 Florence 1S6 Shelley 188 Cor Cordium 189 Rome after 1870 191 To Rome 193 Antinous of the Vatican 197 A Bas-Relief 199 Addio a Roma 201 On Leaving Italy 202 LOVE POEMS AND SON- NETS. WAITING. I COUNT the days, — The lovely days, the weary days ; From east to west they softly go, Silent and slow. Green is the earth With budding grass ; the wondrous birth Of spring and hope, wide as it spreads, New glory sheds. The air is sweet. Here snowy petals strew the street; Here lean against the garden-wall The lilacs tall. The cuckoo cries, And in his frequent note there lies 1 6 WAITING. The count of years where brain and nerve Must toil and serve.^ But youth is strong, And unappalled it fronts the long Array, of days — which must be fair If thou art there — When I may learn My will to thine to bend and turn, To meet thy mood, and more and more Love and adore. The world is dear And good ; I dare not shed a tear. I sing my songs of love and praise, And count the days. Dresden, May^ 1875. ^ There is a German superstition that one who listens to the cuckoo will live as many years as he hears repetitions of the bird's cry. NATURE AND LOVE. Day after day I watch the fine Dividing hne, Scarcely discerned, 'twixt sea and sky ; Beneath me lie Smooth shining sands, and overhead Clear heavens outspread. Day after day, through balmy hours, I pluck the flowers From heavy-laden shrub and tree ; The fleur-de-hs. Purple and tall, and blue-eyed grass Bloom where I pass. Often the wood-bird's clear note rings. And insect wings FHt gay and glittering down the breeze : And gold-ringed bees Drink from a fragrant flower-cup Its sweet draughts up. 1 8 NATURE AND LOVE, Here 'mid the scented pines I dream, Until I seem A monarch in an ancient time, — A time suMime, When earth gave all men, frank and free, What she gives me. But often, when the restless waves My light boat braves, A mariner destined to explore An unknown shore Am I. All day beneath the sun. My voyage begun, I sing glad songs of conquering men, Though silent when The moon her pale flame lights above. And crowned with love. What in that word I half express, Dost thou not guess 1 A dearer hope than nature gives Forever lives, Filling my soul. There floods my heart A joy apart From seas or flowers or glowing noons. Or suns or moons. NATURE AND LOVE, 19 Through all the glory and the grace I see thy face ; In the waves' whisper, soft and clear, Thy voice I hear ; Thy smile through every hour doth fall, And blesses all. HELEN. Without the walls of Troy the Grecian host, Encamped, lav, spent and wear}' with the fight. " Eve after eve they watched the golden light Of suns whose splendors seemed to mock them most When most they prayed : for morn on morn they rose To suiter fresh defeats and bear new woes. They could not curse, because she was so fair, The cause of all the ruin : but the bands Of heroes stretched to heaven beseech- ing hands, While, wrung from lips grown pallid with despair. HELEN. 21 A cry arose throughout the camp's do- main, Reechoing far across the barren plain, Till all the midnight air One name did bear, — Helen ! Helen ! Helen ! Within the walls of Troy the fires blazed bright, And song and dance were gay, and wine flowed free. Where, flushed with joy and pride and victory, They held their revels far into the night, Nor paused to listen to the warning voice That bade them rather tremble than re- joice. But lifting high their wine-cups crowned with flowers, " O loveliest lady of the land of Greece, Whose bright eyes, bringing glory, lead to peace, We drink to thee through all the happy hours," 22 . HELEN-. They cried, and poured the crimson juices out, Pledging her deep and long with shout on shout, Till all the midnight air One name did bear, — Helen ! Helen ! Helen ! Our hearts are battle-fields ; within them rage The conflicts that despair and doubt and pain With love and beauty and their count- less train Of pleasures and of pomps forever wage. Now Sorrow spreads her pall and claims the fight ; Now her pale hosts surrender to de- light. But whether, tossing on mad waves of joy, I drink great draughts of rapture as of wine, Or, sunk beneath a chill and bitter brine, I lie the prey of every vile annoy, HELEN, 23 One image rules each smile, controls each sigh, And like the men of old to her I cry, Till all the midnight air One name doth bear — Helen ! Helen ! Helen ! AN EVENING RIDE. FROM GLASHUTTE TO MUGELN IN SAXONY. We ri^e and ride. High on the hills The fir-trees stretch into the sky ; The birches, which the deep calm stills Quiver again as we speed by. Beside the road a shallow stream Goes leaping o'er its rocky bed : Here lie the corn-fields with a gleam Of daisies white and poppies red. A faint star trembles in the west ; A fire-fly sparkles, fluttering bright Against the mountain's sombre breast ; And yonder shines a village Hght. Oh ! could I creep into thine arms Beloved ! and upon thy face AN EVENING RIDE. 25 Read the arrest of dire alarms That press me close ; from thy em- brace View the sweet earth as on we ride. Alas ! how vain our longings are ! Already night is spreading wide Her sable wing, and thou art far. DEPARTURE. The hours go on. Up from the leaden-colored sea The autumn wind sweeps chillingly,^ # And she is gone. Like tears that drain The heart until its springs are dry, So drains the sources of the sky The falling rain. The white ships sail Like ghosts towards some mysterious tryst Hastening ; and vanish in the mist, Silent and pale. From clasping hands And clinging lips, from love and care Of dear ones left, they dear ones bear To unknown lands. DEPARTURE. 2/ The circling shore Lies lonely ; the receding wave Moans like that whisper from the grave Heard evermore By widowed hearts : '' Unfettered by the bonds of years, And deaf to prayers, untouched by tears, Each one departs." O Love ! O Grief ! Your mingled notes I singing wake, With trust that song for her dear sake May bring relief. CUI BONO? Wherefore the vigils and the tears, The flight of dreams when night appears, The short repose, the long unrest, The wearied throbbings of the breast, And utter impotence of will ; The shifting of the pillow till A dull beam strikes the window-pane And daylight struggles in again ? Were it indeed for her dear sake — If she might slumber while I wake — If, for my tossings to and fro. Her limbs profounder rest might know — But sleep, because it shuns my eyes, On hers no whit the gentler lies ; And all the tears that I can shed Bring no new blessing to her bed. Love ! how overbold art thou. 1 am thy slave ; my heart I bow. CUT BONO ? 29 But one grace I demand of thee : Torture not unavailingly. Let mercy guide thee ; do not keep Chained in thy toils the swift-winged Sleep. Give me, too ceaselessly oppressed, A little while a little rest. A DREAM OF DEATH. HELENA. Du hast mich beschworen aus dem Grab Durch deinen Zauberwillen, Belebtest mich mit Wollustgluth, Jetzt kannst du die Gluth nicht stillen. Press deinen Mund auf meinen Mund, Der Menschen Odem ist gottlich, Ich trinke deine Seele aus, Die Todten sind unersattlich. Heine. I died ; they wrapped me in a shroud, With hollow mourning, far too loud. And sighs that were but empty sound, And laid me low within the ground. I felt her tears through all the rest ; Past sheet and shroud they reached my breast ; A DREAM OF DEATH. 3 1 They warmed to life the frozen clay, And I began to smile and say : At last thou lov'st me, Helena ! I rose up in the dead of night ; I sought her window ; — 't was a-light. A pebble clattered 'gainst the pane, — " Who 's there ? the wind and failing rain ? " *' Ah ! no ; but one thy tears have led To leave his chill and narrow bed To warm himself before thy breath ; Who for thy sake has conquered death. Arise, and love me, Helena ! " She oped the door, she drew me in. Her mouth was pale, her cheek was thin ; Her eyes were dim ; its length unrolled. Fell loosely down her hair of gold. My presence wrought her grief's eclipse ; She pressed her lips upon my hps, She held me fast in her embrace. Her hands went wandering o'er my face : At last thou lov'dst me, Helena ! The days are dark, the days are cold, And heavy hes the churchyard mould. 32 A DREAM OF DEATH, But ever, at the deep of night, Their faith the dead and living plight. Who would not die if certain bliss Could be foreknown ? and such as this No life — away ! the hour is nigh, With heart on fire she waits my cry : Arise, and love me, Helena ! THE BETTER PART. Because in love, my love ! there are Two parts to choose, the near, the far, The humble moth, the glittering star ; Since one is vassal, one is lord, One the adorer, one the adored. One speaks, and one obeys the word ; Since one must watch and ever keep A faithful guard that one may sleep, Since one must sow, and one must reap ; Since one must wear, and one adorn, One pluck the rose, and one the thorn. One know the night, and one the morn ; Since one must give, and one must take, One yield his heart for one to break. Content e'en thus for love's dear sake ; 34 THE BETTER PART I, dearest, choose the better part ; I choose the sorrow and the smart, The full surrender of the heart. I choose the better part to-day, Forever, which no fate can sway, And nought but death can take away. COMPENSATION. Since Heaven has given to me to wear The crown of love august and fair, Is it not fit that I should bear Its cross as well, without despair ? Since I may sow the precious seed, And cull its flowers to fill my need, Is it a fatal thing indeed If from their thorns my hands must bleed ? Since I may drink the draught divine Down to the dregs, if sometimes brine Be mingled with the glowing wine, Shall I then murmur or repine ? O thou ! who — whatsoe'er thou art, Thou great and universal heart ! Thou soul of love ! since pain and smart Form of thy perfect whole a part, 36 COMPENSATION, My destined portion let me take. While at thy boundless streams I slake My thirst and gather strength to make A joy of sorrow for love's sake. GIFTS OF THE GODS. The gods bestow on men wisdom and art To stir with noble counsel and brave deed The flagging pulses of a fellow-heart, And minister to need. To pierce the subtle secrets of the globe ; To read the records of the lands and seas ; And stars that seam the midnight's sa- ble robe — Great Nature's mysteries. And that all lore the breasts of all may reach, And into new exalted regions lift, They send the power of soul-compelling speech, And song's diviner gift. 38 GIFTS OF THE GODS, From me they veiled their higher knowl- edge, hid The paths of light and calm that lie above The common round — my feeble lisp- ings chid, But taught me how to love. SHADOWS. She leaned from out the mystic space Of Shadow-land. As on the wall The shapes the iire-hght casts, her face Flickered and faded ; — that was all. Like phantoms starting on the wold, When dusk defeats the clear-eyed day, Her form rose ; but when arms would hold And clasp, it vanished quite away. Now we are shadows both. Above The grave of hoped-for, future bliss Two pale wraiths stand. O Sister ! Love ! Reach me thy lips. Can shadows kiss? A ROSARY. Like pearls that form a rosary, So lie in shining rows for me, Strung on a golden thread of Time, The precious hours I know with thee. And, filled with love and praise of thee, As one who tells his rosary, I count upon the beads of Time The benisons thou bringest me. Oh ! may such hours still dawn for me. So rich in love, so filled with thee, And glisten on the robe of Time A never-ending rosary. HELENA'S SONG. Between the olives and the pines The vineyards slope to meet the shore- The sun in skies unsullied shines Till evening lends a charm the more. The fragrant breath of orange-flowers Perfumes the sleepy summer air, And all the slow-revolving hours A garb of pomp and beauty wear. What were it all, O Love ! my Love 1 But that with thee its joy I know ? Thou art my dazzling heaven above, And thou my fertile field below. Thou art my wave-encircled land, And thou alone my central sea. My spirit leaps at thy demand To drown, to lose itself in thee. AMOR LEGGERO. Che son io per te ? Una rosa che il fiato Del caso ti soffia sul sentier, Destando nel cor tuo triste e scorag- giato Delia sua primavera un breve pensier. Raccogli per poco V umil fior, Ed egli si muor. Che sei tu per me ? Un dolce e caldo raggio Che manda della vita il piu bel sol, A ranimar nel petto i cari di del Maggio, Mentre il mondo intier del freddo si duol. Ma cade la notte e il mio cor S' agghiaccia allor. Ebben, e sia cosi ! Non pianger si picciol cosa. AMOR LEGGERO. 43 Godiamo aim en la fugace felicitk. Godiamo il caldo del sol, il soave odor della rosa, Finche la notte vien e il profumo sen va. Coprimi di bad mentre 1' amor Vive ancor. BURNT SHIPS. See H. H:s Sonnet, ''Burnt Ship?^ Upon the hopeless desert of her love I landed, lured by glamours on her face. And, scarce on shore, — a desolate strange place, — I said, — but surely some green cedar grove Awaits me, proffering its cooling shade, And in its depths melodious fountains spring. So tear the canvas from the masts and bring Planks, beams, and spars until the pile be laid. Then with my own mad hands I lit the fire, And watched with fevered eyes the dark mass burn, So blotting out the prospect of return. But daily cools the pulse of my desire, And bitter is the redness of her lips. Oh ! god of love, why did I burn my ships ? OUTRE-MORT. Suppose the dreaded messenger of death Should hasten steps that seem, though sure, so slow, And soon should whisper with his chilly breath : " Arise ! thine hour has sounded, thou must go ; For they that earliest taste life's holiest feast Must early fast, lest, grown too bold, they dare Of them that follow after seize the share/' Then, though my pulse's beat forever ceased, If where I slumbered thou shouldst chance to pass, Though grave-bound, I thy presence should discern. 46 OUTRE-MORT. Heedless of coffin-lid and tangled grass, Upward to kiss thy feet my lips would yearn ; And did one spark of love thy heart in- flame, With the old rapture I should call thy LIGHT-HOUSES. When pales the sunset flush along the sky, When the sea's azure deepens into gray, The light-house lamps flash out across the bay, Their cheerful beams proclaiming, — " This way lie Perils, and that way safety : ye who roam, Searching for foreign shores, with cau- tion steer ; And ye returning, lo ! the land is near. And yonder waits the harbor which is home." Such is thy part ; thou art my beacon- light Standing the open passage to disclose, Against unsafe and treacherous ways to 48 LIGHT-HOUSES, Nor ever did a dark and stormy night Obscure my path, but that bright flame arose And shone with steadfast radiance till the morn. LAURELS. I WOULD cull laurels — not for pride or fame. When grave shades fall on him that lieth low, All honor shrivels to an empty name ; Alike are praise and blame, sunshine and snow. But I would pluck the rarest flowers that spring From mortal effort, gems that deepest sleep In human possibility, to fling Low at thy feet the gorgeous ghttering heap, That endless splendors might thy name surround ; That men beholding thine imperial mien. And the rich jewels wherewith thou wert crowned, Might cry with awed, rapt voice : " Be- hold the queen ! " 50 LAURELS. That thou, so greeted, might'st grow proud the while, And know love's work and bless me with a smile. JEWELS. Kings have a royal custom that I love. In common times bringing the priceless gems That on high fete-days crown their dia- dems, And of each stone setting the name above, As, — This is such a pearl ; such dia- mond this ; They spread them where the general eye may see And grow to brilliance in their brilHancy. I too have jewels, jewels of pure bhss. Brighter than pearls and diamonds, and more rare, — Of song, speech, silence, presence, ab- sence ; turn Which way you will their deathless splendors burn ; 52 JEWELS, So by my mood men guess which one I wear, And in my gladness see the others shine, For I am faint with joy to know them mine. LIEBESBITTE. In years to come I ask thee not to say : " I loved him once ; once I did hold him dear : " Ah no ! long since I put that hope away, And buried it in smiles, without a tear. But say : '' 'Mid all who worshipped at my feet, Exalting me, 'mid all who loved me best, As I remember now, I think there beat No heart more fondly in a single breast, No eyes that brightened quicker when I came. No hand that lay more longingly in mine. No voice that knew a tenderer tone to name My name than his whose love seemed half divine." If this thou say, though I be dead the while. The words will reach me, I shall hear and smile. MY QUEEN. She has been queen too long whom I adore, Mistress of men and moulder of their will, For homage such as mine to reach the core Of her proud heart, or teach it one new thrill. Yet have I heard that royal rulers know Such greed for power, that, for some strip of land, Some province stored with vineyards, or where stand Long rows of waving corn and grain, they throw, Like rubbish, honor, wealth, and fame away. And, as 't were water, spill the blood of men. If this be so, perchance to increase thy sway MY QUEEN, 55 By one poor heart's extent thou 'rt fain. Oh! then Stretch out thy hand to me, and with a mien Of graciousness look on me, oh ! my queen. "ONE WAY OF LOVE." To love thee, sweet, is as if one should love A marble statue of perfected form, Which, on the spot that hot lips lie above, A tiny spot, grows for an instant warm : The moment passed, straightway 't is cold again, Returning to its first proud lifeless grace ; Keeping no memory of the close em- brace, Nor from the warm red hps one scarlet stain. But what of that ? Why should I be distressed Though thou art cold as stone ? Let me be brave If but for once, and love for nothing save ''ONE WAY OF love:' 57 For love's sake only ; for he loveth best And brightest does his flame of passion burn Who giveth all things asking no return. MORTALIS. If thou shouldst die, BelovM, — fatal thought That curdles all the blood along my veins, And as with foul and poisonous vapor stains The glad day's beauty, — though with anguish fraught Our parting, I would fain be near, that nought Might miss me of the swift and torturing pains Such loss would nourish, — for my soul disdains A peace of ignorance or oblivion bought. And, Love ! I would not be the first to go, Lest thy dear eyes might drop a single tear, MO RT A LIS. 59 Remembering one who worshipped them so well ; Or lest some sudden pang thy breast might know, When, half forgetting, thou shouldst chance to hear Some careless voice my name and story tell. THINE EYES. In other days, Beloved, when the world Has stepped between us, and thou seem'st to be Far off, — when half effaced my memory By mists of sweeter incense round thee curled Than I can offer, — when, like dead leaves whirled Before a storm, my glad dreams break and flee Before relentless fate's reality — When youth and joy their golden wings have furled — Even then, O Love ! I shall not quite despair ; Even then, upon my weary heart and sore A gentle after-sunset glow will rise And comfort me ; some moments will be fair, THINE EYES, 6 1 And looking back, I still shall smile once more, Remembering the old kindness of thine eyes. DEPENDENCE. What would life keep for me if thou shouldst go ? Beloved, give me answer ; for my art Is pledged unto thy service, and my heart Apart from thee nor joy nor grace doth know. No arid desert, no wide waste of snow, Looks drearier to exiled ones who start On their forced journey than, shouldst thou depart, This fair green earth to my dead hope would show. And like a drowning man who struggling clings With stiffened fingers to the rope that saves, Thrown out to meet his deep need from the land. So to thy thought I hold when sorrow's wings DEPENDENCE. 63 Darken the sky, and 'mid the bitterest waves Of fate am succored by thy friendly hand. SUBMISSION. God forbid, dearest, that I should com- plain However hard and heavy be the cross Thou bidst me carry ; since to me all loss Incurred for thee turns straightway into gain. And by the side of thine inflicted pain All pleasure won from others is as dross Beside pure gold. Like summer winds that toss The branches of the trees whose trunks remain Unmoved, so sweep the floods of cir- cumstance, Ruffling alone the current of my mood, While my soul's deep repose they can- not shake. But at a word of thine, before thy glance, My spirit bows, knowing thy will is good. Eager to do or suffer for thy sake. LOVE'S CALENDAR. I TAKE no heed of month, or week, or day, Or of the times and seasons of the year. Springtime it is with me v/hen she is near, And winter when the clouds of absence stray Across my heaven, holding its sun at bay. The morning dawns when her dear eyes appear, And night shuts down upon me, blank and drear. When those consohng orbs are taken away. As earth is gladdened when the snows depart, When woods and meadows are no longer bare. But tender blossoms nestle in the grass, 5 66 LOVE'S CALENDAR, So, when my Love approaches, to my heart Her balmy breath brings floods of sum- mer air, And fresh flowers spring where'er her footsteps pass. ISLANDS. " Some unsuspected isle in far-off seas." — Browning. Beyond the sea-coast, where the level sea Stretches its shining length, some isle must rest, Cradled upon the ocean's bounteous breast. Where men might live untrammelled, glad, and free. Out of life's babbling current there must be Some unsuspected isle, Love's dear be- quest To those who follow him, where, safe and blest, Oh ! my beloved, I might dwell with thee. But ships are not found strong enough to bear 68 ISLANDS, Adventurers over every ocean's foam ; Not all my thought, not all my love and care, Can build the bark in which we two might roam ; So still my voice assails the unheeding air With vain lamentings for that island home. SNOW-DROPS. Already once I 've brought you snow- drops, dear, From an old garden whose forgotten grace Seemed to revive again a little space To do you honor. Though March winds blow drear And chill, yet) with sweet sense that spring is near, These brave and hardy buds the snow displace ; Showing, each one, a white and shining face, — The earliest flowers of the awakening year. So, like the snow-drops, once for me there grew, Amid the snows of life, pure blossoms, when 70 SNOW-DROPS. Your smile first rested on me, and I knew My springtime was at hand. To-day, again, The flowers of spring and love I bring to you, With heart unchanged and faithful now as then. LOVE'S ABODE. Up the white steps that lead to Love's abode I hastened, tarrying by the golden gate. " Ruler of gods and men," I cried, " I wait To pay my homage here where most 't is owed ! " Then the bright gate swung open, and bestowed An entrance, and Love's servants in sweet state Came out to meet and welcome me. Elate And proud, I followed where the way they showed : They led me to the temple door, whence gleam Soft lights, whence sweet scents float upon the air. 72 LOVE'S ABODE. " Here wait our master's voice," they said, and then — They left me. When shall I be called, oh when, Into the inner sanctuary, where, Amid his chosen ones. Love reigns supreme ? STORM AND CALM. WHILE LISTENING TO A ST. SAENS CON- CERTO. The waves of love will dash me on a shore Trackless and waste, whence there is no return. My mast is split, my rudder gone ; they burn Like glowing coals, — these icy waves that pour Across my shattered deck ; the mad winds tore Long since my sails in shreds. The black heavens yearn To clasp the deep; no star can I dis- cern That might direct me till the storm were o'er. So rose the cry of one in agony, 74 STORM AND CALM, Tossed on wide floods of passion, doubt, and dread. Then, as a clear morn smiles upon the sea, When a wild night has spread its wings and fled. So thy sweet eyes arose and shone on me. And peace and calm upon my soul were shed. SERVING. That thou 'rt not yet all mine why should I care ? Why grieve because the draught is scant and thin Which thy love offers for my tasting in Its fragile cup, at moments short and rare ? Fool should I be thus early to despair ! The labors of my love but now begin. Twice seven long years did Jacob serve to win Rachel, and dwelt with her long days and fair ; So I will serve for thee ; from land to land Gleaning and gathering, until twice seven years, And more, if need be, on their path shall roll; ^6 SERVING. With fond assurance that we two shall stand At last, together, 'mid the blessed spheres Of love's domain, united soul to soul. THE BURDEN OF LOVE. I BEAR an unseen burden constantly ; Waking or sleeping I can never thrust The load aside ; through summer's heat and dust And winter's snows it still abides with me. I cannot let it fall though I should be Never so weary ; carry it I must. Nor can the bands that bind it on me rust Or break, nor ever shall I be set free. Sometimes 't is heavy as the weight that bore Atlas on giant shoulders ; sometimes light As the frail message of the carrier dove ; But, light or heavy, shifting never more. What is it thus oppressing, day and night ? The burden, dearest, of a mighty love. A SIMILE. At sea, far parted from the happy shore, The solitary rock lies all unmoved By the caressing waves, though unre- proved Their constant kisses on its breast they pour. So it stands witnessed by all human lore, Where'er the wanton god of love has roved, His shafts fell never equal ; one be- loved. One lover, there must be for evermore. Dear, if thou wilt, be thou that rock at sea. But let me be the waves that never leave Their yearning towards it through the ocean space ; And be thou the beloved, but let me Be the fond lover destined to receive And hold thee in love's infinite embrace. BLOSSOMS OF LOVE. Suggested by Dante RossettPs Sonnet^ " Passion and Worships The blossoms of my love are many-hued And manifold : some glow like tongues of fire With the hot dyes of passionate desire ; And some are white as snow, and heavy- dewed With fallen tears ; with modesty im- bued, Some bow their heads ; some, purple- robed, aspire To flaunt before the world their proud attire ; Some, soberer tinted, blush in solitude. And all these varied blooms I watch and tend And guard with constant care, untir- ingly, That they new grace and beauty may possess ; 80 BLOSSOMS OF LOVE, And many a busy day and night I spend In weaving of their wealth a crown for thee. Beloved, wilt thou wear it ? Answer yes. DEPRECATION. ESTRELLA TO ALFONSO. A PALLID nun behind the iron bars Of fate, I sit and watch the roses blow That are for others with wan smiles ; and so I hear thy song sweep past me to the stars. Like haughty conquerors in triumphal cars, Thy mad hopes ride within thy breast, and go Dauntlessly into realms I do not know, And my pale peace thy passion breaks and mars. O friend ! cease, therefore, thy wild min- strelsy; No chord responsive vibrates in my breast, 6 82 DEPRECATION, And its dead ashes stir not at thy call. Then, for thy love's sake, since thou lovest me, Silence the voice I may not answer, lest, Striving to flee from it, I faint and fall. NEPENTHE. Unto Telemachus, who, journeying, sought At Menelaus' court tidings to hear Of great Odysseus, tarrying year on year, The fair-armed Helen sweet refreshment brought, — Nepenthe, Eastern juice. Such charm it wrought That whoso tasted it could shed no tear A whole day long : though all he held most dear Were struck with death, he knew and suffered naught. So thou, a later Helen, bringest me" A draught wherein oblivion and repose In cunning portions are together blent. I drink : my tears are dry, my soul can see No ill, and even sorrow's memory grows Forgotten in a nameless, deep content. SY 20THP. A WISE and famous nation held belief, Whoever in prosperity o'ergrew The bounds of temperate good, him would pursue The ever-jealous gods with loss and grief. Sometimes so golden is my harvest's sheaf, My way so flowery and my heaven so blue, I tremble lest, perchance, the immortals brew A storm to prove my fortune's sudden thief. But thou art my preserver even here, And earn'st me mercy from the envious skies ; Since, lacking thee, I lack the one thing dear, 2Y 2GTHP. 85 Which only were life's first and fairest prize ; For other joys are barren all and drear, Beside that one which a stern fate de- nies. IN A LETTER. There came a breath out of a distant time, An odor from neglected gardens where Unnumbered roses once perfumed the air Through summer days, in childhood's happy clime. There came the salt scent of the sea, the chime Of waves against the beaches or the bare, Gaunt rocks ; as to the mind, half una- ware. Recur the words of some familiar rhyme. And as above the gardens and the sea The moon arises, and her silver light Touches the landscape with a deeper grace, IN A LETTER, 8/ So o'er the misty wraiths of memory, Turning them into pictures clear and bright, Rose in a halo the beloved face. TITLES. Born sovereigns have no names but those bestowed In baptism ; Constance, Philip, — so each age Knows them, and deals of praise or blame their wage, As harvests of good fame or ill they sowed. So with the mighty, o'er whose cradle glowed The star of genius ; with that heritage Dante and Raphael shine on history's page Simple as when they walked our com- , mon road. Like thy great namesake, in whose cause the plain Of Troy was strewn with corpses, while above TITLES. 89 Olympus heard the wrathful gods con- tend, So, 'mid the homage of respect and love Laid at thy feet by lover and by friend, Helen thou art, and Helen must remain. AFTER ABSENCE. After long years of absence had gone by, He stood again upon the parent shore Of stern New England; but his heart was sore, And his dulled bosom rent with many a sigh. He mourned the vanished gods, the ra- diant sky Of the dear land of love and song and lore ; He mourned the sweet companionships of yore. That on his path like scattered pearls did lie. But when she passed, as in the former days. With the old halo on her golden hair, With the old kindness and enchanting ways, AFTER ABSENCE. 9 1 'T was as if some swift wind had cleared the air ; Before her smile he stood transfixed there ; He had forgotten that she was so fair. BONDAGE. " And this is freedom ! " cried the serf ; "At last I tread free soil, the free air blows on me ; " And, wild to learn the sweets of liberty, With eager hope his bosom bounded fast. But not for naught had the long years amassed Habit of slavery ; among the free He still was servile, and, disheartened, he Crept back to the old bondage of the past. Long did I bear a hard and heavy chain Wreathed with amaranth and asphodel, But through the flower-breaths stole the weary pain. I cast it off and fled, but 't was in vain ; For when once more I passed by where it fell, I took it up and bound it on again. WITCH-HAZEL. 'T IS said that 'mid the sylvan shrubs that grow One has a wizard power above the rest ; Held o'er the soil it points its leafy crest To where the hidden sources sleep be- low. How must the gentle earth rejoice when flow The pent-up streams and ease the aching breast, Grown sore with guarding them ! And ah, how blest Those springs to men who need of water know ! Beloved, at thy touch the entire bliss Of being floods me ; in my heart straight- way Songs rise and gush and murmur with- out end. 94 WITCH-HAZEL. And, dear, who knows but that, per- chance, some day. Some one may be a little glad for this That thou hast wrought, and bless thee through thy friend ? CALM. See H. H.^s Sonnet^ " The Zone of Calms.^'' Here let us rest within '*the zone of calms," Found now at last, whose delicate mys- teries Escaped us on the old tempestuous seas, Though their best gifts this charmed space embalms. Here are soft shadows as of darkling palms, Whose branches faintly rustle in the breeze Of summer morns, and gentle melodies As of hushed voices chanting low sweet psalms. The tyrant Time, plying his ceaseless oar, Will bear us farther all too soon, we know, — • Eastward and westward, parted as be- fore. 96 CALM, But while we linger yet, each opposite shore Still indistinct, take speech, O Love, once more, And bless the rapturous stillness ere we go! SYMPHONIE FANTASTIQUE. We heard the symphony wherein the brain Of the mad poet fancies his love to be A sweet, ever-recurring melody, Piquing to pleasure, ministering to pain. Now ball-rooms echo it, now wood and plain Take up the burden ; joyous now and free It sounds, now sad and fraught with mystery : All life is interwoven with that strain. Thou art the melody of all my days, I but an accidental note in thine, Its value unobserved by alien ears. Remove it, still thy music is as fine ; But take thee from me, and the void dis- plays Discord and inharmonious fall of tears. 7 IDEM NON ALITER. Say not the charm is broken ; that the old Rapture has faded to a cool content ; That flowers so sweet at morn must lose their scent, When toward life's noon experience shall have rolled. Nor whisper that the tale so often told Fails in some measure of its blandish- ment ; Nor that the chord jangles wherein were blent All harmonies that music's voices hold. Ah, dear, a shining isle forever lies Beyond the track of ships, in the still sea, Where chains are hid in wooing, soft disguise. More blest than freedom seems captiv- ity ; For the old Circe looks from out thine eyes, And thy Odysseus does not wish to flee. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. Guarded by walls of roses set v/ith thorns, Within her palace-room the princess slept, Nor heard how through the wood the loud chase swept. With bay of hounds and note of hunt- ing-horns. Into some dream of summer eves and morns Perchance a sudden thrill prophetic crept, As to her side one eager hunter leapt. Made strong by love that bans and bar- riers scorns. Before his tread, — as at some sharp blade's stroke A flower might fall, — the deep enchant- ment broke. lOO THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. He pressed his lips to hers in love's long kiss ; And as her name in rapturous tone he spoke, With happy, smiling eyes the princess woke To meet the new and unsuspected bliss. II. Once more in slumbering state a princess lay, While in the shadow of her palace- walls Unheeded died the glad and pleading calls Of love and joy the outer world that sway. But when towards evening sped her peaceful day, Despite a charm that soul and sense en- thralls, Into the stillness of her perfumed halls, On fire with love, I made my venturous way. Lo ! I have waked her with my ardent lips; THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. lOI Have seen the warm blood mantle in her cheek That surged impetuous round my own heart's core. Yet once again she sank in sleep's eclipse. Oh, be more powerful now the word I speak, The touch I give ! Sweet princess, sleep no more ! FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE. Friendship sat smiling on a flowery height, Watching the blooming groves, the meadows green, The peaceful stream that flowed the fields between. " How rich my realm," she breathed, " how glad, how bright ! '' But on a sudden fell a purple light, Deepening the tranquil beauty of the scene, Tingeing with amethyst hue the river's sheen, As Love drew near in majesty and might. " This is my kingdom, sister ! " quick he cried. " My paths are not all stormy ; there is calm FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE. 103 Upon my mountains, and clear skies above. This radiant land thou viewest bears my balm, Profounder far than thine." Then Friendship sighed, But rose, and yielded up her seat to Love. THE TROUBADOUR. Thou Troubadour, roaming from land to land, Singing, indeed, we grant, one endless theme, — Thy lady's praise, — and striving to re- deem The pledges laid on thee by Love's com- mand, We are the truer lovers, we who stand Beside our mistress, though no silver stream Of song escape our lips. Thou art the dream. We the realities her eyes have scanned. ''Know ye," he answered, "how those lilies grow That on the lake's breast seem to float apart And free, though fastened firm their roots below ? THE TROUBADOUR. IO5 Thus do I seem before the wind and tide Of chance and change to sway from side to side ; But still my heart is anchored to her heart." '^THE GREEK YOUTH." *' He goes," she said : ^' there, at the opening door, I see a shimmer as of snowy wings ; 'T is his white robe that as he passes flings Its shining undulation o'er the floor." But while she spoke, his fond arms as before Held her, his kiss burned on her lips ; as sings Some woodland bird, his voice's mur- murings Thrilled with the joyous weight of love he bore. 'T was but the moonlight of thine own sad eyes That cast my shadow ; in thy silver sphere, Half dusk, half light, ghosts start at any breath. ''THE GREEK YOUTH:' 107 I bring the sunshine ; in it no surprise Can come, no shade can walk. Lo ! I am here, Bisloved, and shall be here unto death. WANDERLEBEN. He has no home, he owns no father- land ; His country is the hospitable earth. He shapes his course where, past the fields of dearth, The planet's greenest groves of plenty- stand ; But howsoever golden be the strand He treadeth, clearer than the sound of mirth And laughter steals the voice that still gives birth To his best joy, more potent than com- mand. Again and once again his ship he steers Into one harbor, hastening to the saint Before whose shrine his constant offer- ing glows. He heaps his treasure, won with blood and tears, WANDERLEBEN. IO9 There at her feet ; praying, without com- plaint, Leave but to worship as he comes and goes. HER ROSES. Against her mouth she pressed the rose, and there, 'Neath the caress of hps as soft and red As its own petals, quick the bright bud spread And oped, and flung its fragrance on the air. It ne'er again a bud's young grace can wear ? O love, regret it not ! It gladly shed Its soul for thee, and though thou kiss it dead It does not murmur at a fate so fair. Thus, once, thou breath'dst on me, till every germ Of love and song broke into rapturous flower, And sent a challenge upwards to the sky. HER ROSES. Ill What if too swift fruition set a term Too brief to all things ? I have lived my hour, And die contented, since for thee I die. AT THE CONVENT. I CANNOT pass beyond the jealous gate And the high walls that, rising stern and grim, Shut you, like sullen guards, within the dim Mysterious space no man may penetrate. But I can guess how the gray nuns chide : " Late Thou comest, sister ; still thy lamp 's to trim. Thy clear voice failed us in the evening hymn Wherewith the grace of Heaven we sup- phcate." Dear, as some paltry coin a lady might Fling to appease a beggar, ere you go Into your quiet cell and all is night, Tarry a moment at the casement ; throw The guerdon of your smile, his way to light, On your poor errant minstrel down be- low. FAUST AND HELENA. When all that life contains of rich and good, Being his own, had failed to bring con- tent To Faust, there rose the form wherein were blent All graces of all beauty's sisterhood : Victorious Helen, young as when first wooed By Theseus ; lovely as when heroes bent Their steps to death, and seas of blood were spent. To win her, fairest of the heavenly brood. But from his longing arms, that thus at last Embraced the shade of beauty and were blest, 114 FAUST AND HELENA. She fled to pale Persephone's domain. Oh, risen again, sweet spirit! let the past Yield to the present ; here upon my breast Forget the courts that wait for thee in vain. II. As unto Faust, when all life holds had failed To bring content, the Beauteous One returned, Summoned from Hades, at whose sight gods burned. And goddesses with sudden envy paled. So, when the banquet of this world re- galed My spirit poorly, all for which it yearned Rose in thy presence, and my eyes dis- cerned In thine the whole of loveliness un- veiled. But from his clasping arms the vision fled Back to the silent realms, and once more left FA UST AND HELENA . 1 1 5 Him lone, unsatisfied, and desolate. Sweet, vanish never, lest my heart, bereft, Consume itself with longing for its dead Delight, and to despair be consecrate. TWO FIGURES. One, like a creature born of brighter spheres Than these we know, a child of joy and light, Brought gladness, beauty, and love's blessed might. Worship and praise and reverence shorn of fears. And one, receiving all that most endears Soul unto soul, and maketh sweet the sight Of him that gives, the offering to re- quite, Placed in the other's hand an urn of tears. Love veiled his brows, and would have fled ; but lo ! There came a whisper from the giver's breast TIVO FIGURES, \\*J That stayed his fluttering wings and held him back : " Upon my head these gathered tears bestow A great and softening grace it else would lack, — The crown of sorrow. Dear, thy gift is best.'' SERVICE. Show me some way in which my soul may serve Thy soul, its nourisher ; teach me to say Some word to ease thy heart with, or to lay Soothing upon a sore and startled nerve ; Let me aspire to lend some gracious curve To the straight lines dividing day from day; Help me to hold the errant feet that stray In paths of constancy that never swerve. Sometimes I fail to reach thee, the ascent Being so steep to where thou dwelPst ; in vain My hands are rich with gifts thou canst not take. SERVICE, 119 But could I see my life blood, for thy sake, To profit thee, flow in a crimson stain, Dear, I believe that I could die content. COMMUNION. One cannot draw the bars against the friends And guests that crowd for entrance at his gate ; He opes, inviting, nor the simple state Of his abode against their train defends. But there are chambers where the lover tends His sacred fires ; where no feet pene- trate, Save of immortals ; where, early and late, The breath of prayer and sacrifice as- cends. In such a spot as this, as in the shrine Of some white temple, in a dusk made sweet With incense, far from outer noise and heat. COMMUNION, 121 And hollow haste of them that part and meet, Surrounded by dim presences divine, My soul communes eternally with thine. MISCELLANEOUS. IMPATIENCE. I SEE the ships go sailing, sailing ; My feet are fettered to the shore. Their prows with many a voyage are hoar. See ! on the far horizon paling, They sink and are no more. I see the birds go flying, flying ; In swaying line and whirling ring, 'Twixt blue and blue, their way they wing ; But the swift flocks, through ether ply- ing, To me no message bring. I see the moon go riding, riding, Through heavenly paths, on golden wheels ; Her passing kiss the ocean feels, But, in his bosom swiftly hiding His joy, no word reveals. 1 26 IMP A TIENCE, O golden moon, and snowy pinions Of birds that fly and ships that mate Their speed with birds, in royal state Sweep proudly through your wide do- mmions And I, — I only wait. IM FREIEN. ICH gehe immer und schweige : Dort oben ein Voglein singt ; Und durch die Fichtenzweige Die freundliche Sonne dringt. Die Blumen bliihn auf den Wiesen, Die Liifte wandelnd gehn ; Wait in der Feme, wie Riesen, Die hohen Gebirge stehn. Die lieblichen Schatten liegen Auf der Erde kiihler Brust ; Die weissen Wolken fliegen Im Himmel und tanzen vor Lust. Oh ! schone, theure Erde, Du ziehst mich an dein Herz Mit lockender Geberde ; Verschwunden ist jeder Schmerz. 128 /-)/ FREIEN. Verschwunden sind Wehen und Leiden, Vergessen Eile und Hast ; Es wecken nur Wonne und Freuden ; Es bleiben nur Ruhe und Rast. PROPITIATION. A FRESH wind blows against the land ; The crested waves toss to and fro ; The swelling waves and shining sand Glitter like rifts of frozen snow. The breath of morn lies soft and dim Upon the sea ; the tender trace Of pink along the horizon's rim Her lips left in the azure space. So on the threshold of the morn, Before the unclosing door I wait ; Will hope expire ? Will joy be born ? How stands it in the book of fate ? O august sisters, sisters three, Who hold the distaff, spin the thread, And weave all human destiny Into a pattern bright or dread, 9 I30 PROPITIATION. I ask no boon of you ; desire And fear ye know ; I only bring In words that morning hours inspire Propitiatory offering. And though no altars rise apart Where men your awful praise re- hearse, I build an altar in my heart, And on it lay my pleading verse. MUSA LOQUITUR. Child ! thine aspiring sense divines, Doubtless, the voice that speaks to thee. Arise ! across yon tossing sea A path of light and glory shines. It leads unto the fields of art, Whose golden harvests thou may'st reap, And 'mid thy garnered treasures keep, If humble and devout of heart. Go, dwell with gods and heroes ; learn The lessons mighty marbles teach, And of the laurel-crowned their speech That through the centuries doth burn. Then lowly kneel at Nature's feet, And from her beating bosom draw Wisdom, without whose perfect law The best of art were incomplete. 132 MUSA LOQUITUR. Listen, in climes of warmth and light, To the sweet-throated nightingales. Watch, till the morn's embrace pre- vails, The starry splendors of the night. On shores where placid waters roll. Invite the breezes of the South, Till their fleet kisses pass thy mouth And penetrate thine inmost soul. Then, when thy voice grows full and strong, When all within, without, is fair, Pierce with thy call the expectant air, And wake thy lyre to Lesbian song. WAKING. I WOKE once more. The sphered oce^n-spices lay, Empty and vast, be-:::::. ':e:*:re. Where we must blind" :r?.:r our wav From unknown shore to u:. : : vn shore. The moon's cold gleam Was faint with mom ; the stars had paled: But chanting one incessant theme Of loss and sorrow, they bewailed The fading of my happy dream. O bitter sea. They cried, whereon he floats alone And joyless, now his dream and he Have parted, whose divine light shone Cresting the waves of memory ! 134 WAKING. O envious fate, Whose ruthless hand the vision tore, And robbed his bosom of the freight So dear, so matchless, that it bore. And left it bare and desolate ! So swelled the song From star to star ; and like a stain Upon the morning, rolled along The sea the echo of the strain, Ceaseless regret for grief and wrong. But then my heart That strove for courage, and would hide, If that might be, in smiles its smart, With words half true, half false, re- plied : Of man's great load each lifts his part. And why despair ? Surely these morning clouds shall change To evening clouds, and they will bear Fresh dreams along their fleecy range. And with new landscapes paint the air, WAKING. 135 Until the last Deep sleep, when over all the woes Of love and life the earth is cast, And, stilled in absolute repose. Dreaming and waking both are past. THE ROSE AND THE STATUE. The Rose said to the Statue : Thou art cold And passionless, though beautiful and grand. I all my life exhale, while thou dost stand Unmoved, unmindful of the sweets I hold. The Statue answered to the Rose : Thou poor. Frail creature, toy and wanton of a day, I scarce can stoop to note thy swift decay ; Lo ! thou art fading now^ but / endure. Thus each reproached the other : neither thought What various means lead to an end the same ; THE ROSE AND THE STA TUE. 1 3 / How manifold is beauty, and what claim To the world's gratitude the other brought. O Statue ! shine in majesty, replete With high suggestions of eternal things. O Rose I yield up thy breath and die ; the wings Of loye receive it, for thy breath is sweet. One must be cold and suffer, — 't is earth's blight ; One must be warm and suffer. Thus the poles Touch in a law unchanging ; but the souls Of Statue and of Rose can ne'er unite. WONDERS. TO E. B. It is a wonder when the day Breaks from the portals of the night, And with her joyous smile and bright, Crowns the high hills where darkness lay, And floods the outstretching plains with light. A wonder when the bud perceives How tight its petals press, and grows Impatient of control, and throws, Nourished by dews of morns and eves, Wide in the air the perfect rose. Or when the gilded butterfly Wakes from the sleep in which were furled The joyous wings about him curled ; WONDERS. 139 And breaks the shell, and, floating high. Goes on his glad way through the world. But greater marvels even than these Are such as harbor in the soul, Like words within some fast-sealed scroll, Concealing close what mysteries ! Till strikes the hour, and they unroll ; When eyes once cold, that looked askance, Kindle at ours, and send a ray Of warmth and cheer along our way, And with their deep and tender glance Herald the dawn of love's new day ; When lips we never thought to taste Thrill 'neath our own ; when fond arms reach About us ; when quick heart-beats teach How burns the breast we hold em- braced, — Love's signs more eloquent than speech. 140 WONDERS, When these things are, should we not lift The heart to Heaven with thankful prayer That, working wonders everywhere, It wrought for us this gracious gift, Than which no other is more fair ? Dear, while I whisper, bend thy cheek A little nearer ; where my strong Deep praise and sweet new joy belong Thou know'st ; the sense of what I speak, The happy secret of my song. IN MEMORIAM. B. H. C. AT SORRENTO. I. The Summer strews with lavish hand Her gems upon this Southern shore ; With gold and emeralds glows the land, And sapphires form the ocean's floor. The sun a glittering ruby gleams ; Each star a topaz ; while the mist That o'er the mountain summits streams Is set with many an amethyst. Unto the evening's gates of pearl There leads an opal-paved way, And pearly are the clouds that curl About the bosom of the day. 142 IN ME MORI AM, But oft upon the radiant scene Thy image, O my friend, appears, And all the jewels that have been Are changed to diamonds in my tears. II. With flowers and lights the altars blazed'; The white-robed priests, with crosses raised And banners fluttering, onward came 'Mid many a candle's flickering flame. The gentle dusk its mantle wrapped About the landscape ; quiet lapped The land, until the pious throng Uplifted a thanksgiving song. Then, held on high, that over all With equal light its rays might fall, And equal grace to all aflbrd, Was borne the Body of the Lord. And, at its sight, upon their knees The people fell as when a breeze Sweeps o'er the summer earth at morn. Bowing a field of uncut corn. IN MEMORIAM. 1 43 Why should thy spirit seem to shine Here, where a creed so unhke thine Lavished the treasures of its art, And through the senses touched the heart ? I know not ; but as with the rest I knelt, thy memory dear and blest, A living presence seemed to be, And sacred grew the hour to me. FROM NAPLES TO ROME. The sun set ; the wide Campagna Stretched about us like a sea, Miles on miles of billowy distance ; Scarce a limit seemed to be To the great immensity, Till upon the far horizon, Through the mist the hills rose higher, And upon three tallest summits, Shooting, hke a golden spire. Heavenwards, blazed a beacon fire. And we knew that in the evening Stillness, where the eternal dome Rises over tower and palace. Lay our long-desired home, — Lay the great enchantress, Rome. FROM NAPLES TO ROME. 1 45 Watch-fires kindled by the ages, Where the passing moments pour All the present's shifting fuel On the accumulated store Till the pile glows more and more, To the grand and wondrous precincts Of her hoary walls invite. And, with longing for the morning To reveal them to our sight, Grateful hearts thanked God that nio:ht. GIARDINO GIUSTI. Clad in a garb of centuries, Like solemn warders of the past, Above its secret hoards amassed, Stand the funereal cypress-trees. And each to each they nod and wave, And whisper how the king of kings Is death, and how all human things Bloom but to wither in the grave. But, down below, the city lies. Near where the shining river runs Within whose breast a thousand suns Are mirrored from the cloudless skies. And crowded market-place and square And street with fluttering flags are gay, And all the glad life of to-day Pulses and surges everywhere. GIARDINO GIUSTL 1 47 For 'neath the Past's almighty shade The careless Present keeps its cheer ; And though the end is sure and near, Yet we press onward undismayed. Verona, December ^ 1878. FOUNTAINS IN ROME. Before St. Peter's, like the wreaths Of spotless snow that o'er the bare Sad earth the pitying winter breathes, The proud jets flash into the air. But where the water breaks and falls And meets the sun, with every gem It glows wherewith shall deck her walls One day the new Jerusalem. While here, beside a mighty pile Where spoils of splendid ages gleam, The Triton, with an endless smile. Uplifts to heaven his slender stream. And there Bernini's grotesque taste With nymphs and gods the square adorns ; And giant groups in circle placed Fill the wide basins from their horns. Here Trevi, whose enchanted pool, When hearts with parting anguish burn, FOUNTAINS IN ROME. 1 49 Will yield in draughts divinely cool Consoling promise of return ; Where come the doves to bathe and drink, And seek for shade amid the glare Of noon, beneath the fountain's brink. Or 'mid the mermen's clustering hair. But these, the body's thirst that slake, That pour in many a loved retreat Their fresh and limpid floods, and make The beauty of the Roman street, Seem but the images of those Deep sources 'mid the city's span That in their hoary breasts enclose The wondrous history of man. Rome ! of these fountains of thy lore Let my soul drink. Not all in vain Be oped for me thy matchless store. Nor closed without return again. Let some sweet stream of tuneful praise Towards thy clear heaven its voice uplift, Along whose flow shall shine and blaze The gracious rainbow of thy gift. A ROMA. CittA delle cittk ! Nel tuo cielo chiaro, ridente, Splende il sole col piu bel folgor ; Sul tuo suolo dove la storia Spande la plena del suo tesor, Brillan uniti 1' antica gloria E del presente Tutti i fior. Citta delle cittk ! Mentre il fiume corre in fretta, Che della vita si suol chiamar, Pallide ombre fra il tuo bello Spazio tornan a dimorar, E del tranquillo e calmo avello Che ci aspetta A favellar. Cittk delle cittk ! La tua fronte porta la soma A ROMA, 151 D' ogni delizia e d' ogni desir ; Nel tuo seno contempliamo Giunti il riso e il sospir ; Sul tuo cuore impariamo A viver, oh ! Roma, E a morir. ON THE PINCIAN. Their dusky boughs the pine-trees lift Against the heaven's transcendent hue ; Nor does the faintest cloudlet drift One film across the perfect blue. The world lies bathed in sunshine ; hill And hollow, fountain, circling stream, Sparkle with light, and hushed and still The city, like a dream. So smiles the Present, while the Past, Mysterious, dim, about it lies, Guarding the kingdoms wide and vast, Invisible to human eyes ; But whispering to human ears. With speech more potent than our own, The story of the by-gone years, In low, perpetual tone. ON THE PINCIAN. 1 53 It tells how soon the race was o'er For others ; how we soon shall be, With kings and emperors gone before, But shadows of reality ; And how we pass that they may come Whom Time's swift courses bear along ; How other lips, when ours are dumb, Shall blossom into song : As now we sing beside their graves Whose rhythmic laughter once made glad The earth, whose gentle memory craves From us more tender words than sad ; And as to-day o'er quick and dead Extends the sky's unsullied space. So ever o'er us all shall spread The infinite embrace ; That change is not ; that destiny Rules with a calm, impartial sway ; That to all eyes is given to see The generous beauty of the day. And, last sweet comfort unto men, — The thought an armor 'gainst de- spair, — 154 ON THE PI NCI AN. Since this world is so blest, shall, then, A future be less fair ? With thoughts like these of peace and rest. Amid the noon's effulgent light. Is soothed, not terrified, the breast, With shadows of the coming night ; And here within the soul's true home, Beneath thy calm and tranquil sky. While making life all joy, O Rome, Thou teachest how to die. AFTERMATH. J. W., DIED MARCH, 1 879. Brave Heart, grown cold, didst thou not know Full recognition when the field Was green in June, and glad to yield Its wealth to them who come to mow ? And were there some who doubted, some, Unwitting that perchance thy peer Moved not in distant ranks or near, Upon whose lips thy praise grew dumb ? Such is the meed of genius, such Experience proves the frequent fate That 'mid the small attends the great ; They, bringing little, sneer at much. 156 AFTERMATH. But the late summer cometh, when Once more his scythe the reaper sets, And for the season's store-house gets A new sweet crop to profit men. So they as yet unborn shall reap The harvests of thy steadfastness And thy soul's noble law, and bless The mighty "fruits of them that sleep." A PRAYER. Not through my merits but your grace, Immortal powers that set me free, I stand before you face to face, And share in your eternity. I know beyond this path so fair And joyous opes the dark abyss ; I know that wreck and ruin there May be the end of too much bhss. But spare me ! If my humble dread Appease the Fate yourselves obey. Oh, on my bowed but crowned head Let not your shafts descend to slay ! Your altars all I light with fires Where deepest awe and reverence meet ; And garlanded with gained desires I cling, still suppliant, to your feet. XAIPE! Hail and farewell ! Thus in our brief career The greetings follow ; for our paths unite But to diverge, and those so near and dear To-day to-morrow vanish out of sight. But, brave and patient heart, feel no dismay ; For though they pass as 't were be- hind a veil, Thy dear ones are not lost, but all thy way Is gladdened with their voices crying Hail! And when thou standest on the shadowy brink Of the profound Unknown, thy part- ing knell XAIPE! 159 Shall be their psalm of love, and thou shalt sink On sleep's soft breast, soothed by their fond farewell ! SCHUMANN'S SYMPHONY IN B FLAT MAJOR. A TRUMPET-CALL the slumbering sense awakes, And challenges to action and to fight. But swift the plumed line of battle breaks, And, breathing o'er the brows of love alight, The rhythm, adrift with human joys and w^oes, Goes wandering with a question and a sigh Throughout all life's expectancy, to die At last in notes of rapture, as it rose. The patriot Swiss, who clasped the hosdle spears. And through his bleeding breast carved freedom's way. SCHLWAXX'S SYMPHOXY. l6l Had known his peer on many a glorious day. Had Schumann's muse been born of earher years ; For when such strains as these the heart do greet Great deeds seem easy, and to die were sweet JOACHIM. Across the strings the sympathetic bow Swept, held and guided by a master- hand. Like the enchanted beauty long ago Who slumbered, chained by magic bar and band, Till on her lips the appointed prince did press The liberating kiss and she awoke, So, 'neath the bow's long-drawn desired caress, Swift into full and perfect being broke, Freed from the violin, the prisoned tones : In myriad measure swelled the melody. Bewailing now with sobs and broken moans The bondage past, now joyous to be free : And as the strain began to rise and roll, The soul of music met the artist's soul. RUBINSTEIN. Amid expectant silence, grave and still, He laid his hands upon the palHd keys. Straightway the notes began to throb and thrill. Mirrored in sound the mighty mysteries, The fathomless of human hfe, its needs And hopes, doubts, fears, fancies and questionings Appeared, and last the tramp of funeral steeds. And trappings of the grave. On mighty wings Uprose the stirring chords till the great dead Heard where they wandered on the shadowy way. Hushed for a moment was their solemn tread, 164 RUBINSTEIN. And athwart space a whisper seemed to stray, — Hail ! great interpreter of god-like men ! Beneath thy quickening touch We live again. CHOPIN. The polonaise is danced ; the waltz is done ; The guests are gone ; but still the vague regret That breathed through all things since the fete begun, Waits, and unrest and longing linger yet. Into the night I there lie repose and peace. Hark ! how the wandering voices meet and flow In rhythm ; hear now those calm accords and low, Like dim forebodings of a swift release. "Whom the gods love die young." So, Chopin, thou Heard'st early, through the harmonies that stirred Thy poet brain, the inevitable " Now ! " 1 66 CHOPIN. Mad'st answer, smiling, to the summon- ing word, And, sung to sleep on Music's tender breast, Sank'st gladly into an untroubled rest. " MEIN TAG WAR HEITER, GLUCKLICH MEINE NACHT." FROM HEINE. My day was joyous, happy was my night. My people's plaudits rang whene'er the lyre Of poesy I struck ; my song's sweet fire Has kindled many a flame intense and bright. My summer blossoms still, but piled and stored Within my barns have I each golden ear Of corn, and all that made the world so dear Now must I leave — leave all I so adored. The hand falls from the harp-strings ; shattered lie The fragments of the glass with life re- plete, 1 68 MEIN TAG WAR HE ITER, That gayly on my haughty h'ps I pressed. O God ! how hateful-bitter 't is to die ! O God ! how heavenly 't is to live, how sweet, In this enchanting little earthly nest ! TO R. W. E. As sweeps a wind at morning, cool and clear, Against the wavering mists that break and flee, Leaving the wide blue prairies of the sea Outstretched in sunlit splendor far and near ; As, in the early breeze's fresh embrace, The autumn flowers shake off their sleep and shine, Gold, purple, 'mid a blaze of scarlet vine, And all the fields are clothed with joy and grace, — So, loftiest Teacher ! sweep thy winged words Against the mists and error's of our days. So to thy voice respond a thousand chords That slumbered, thrilling to perfected praise. I/O TO R. W. E. And 'neath the breath of thine inspiring mood, The soul grows strong and life seems sweet and good. CHAUCER. A LIMPID source, a clear and bubbling spring, Born in some wooded dell unknown of heat, Above whose breast the leafy branches meet And kiss, and earthward wavering shad- ows fling : Upon whose brink the perfumed flower- cups swing 'Neath the light tread of hurrying insect feet; Such, Chaucer, seems the sturdy note and sweet In thine unfettered song reechoing. Hence they who sometimes weary of the play Of fountains and the artificial jets Which in gay parks and gardens dance and leap, 1/2 CHAUCER, Turn back again into that forest-way Where thy fresh stream the grass and mosses wets That slumber on its margin cool and deep. AT SEA. What lies beyond the far horizon's rim ? Ah ! could our ship but reach and an- chor there, What wondrous scenes, what visions bright and fair Would meet the eyes that gazed across the brim ! But though we crowd the canvas on and trim Our barque with skill, the proud waves seem to bear No nearer to that goal, and everywhere Stretches an endless circle wide and dim. So do we dream, treading the narrow path Of life, between the bounds of day and night, 174 AT SEA. To-morrow turns this page so often conned: But when to-morrow cometh, lo ! it hath The limits of to-day, and in its light Still lies far off the unknown heaven be- yond. II. We sail the centre of a ceaseless round, Forever circled by the horizon's rim ; And fondly deem that from that far-o££ brim Some sign will rise or some glad tidings sound. But no word comes, nor aught to break the bound Of sea and sky all day with distance dim, And vanished quite when darkness, chill and grim, About the deep her sable shroud has wound. So on the seas of life and time we drift, Within the circling limits of our fate, Expectant ever of some solving breath. But no sound comes, no pitying hand doth Hft AT SEA. 175 The veil nor faith nor love can pene- trate, And to our dusk succeeds the dark of death. A VOYAGE. " My soul is an enchanted boat." — Shelley. Let us float on the downward-flowing stream, Like to a happy lover with his bride. My heart is still, my soul is satisfied, Since thou art the companion of my dream. Above our heads the golden planets gleam, Fields strewn with flowers stretch by the river's side, The rippling waves make music as we glide ; Life, love and gladness is that music's theme. Whence did we come into this magic boat? We know not, neither whither we are bound. A VOYAGE. 177 For fate is silent and its end unseen. Let us float on — what should we do but float? Until we pass into some sea profound Where all shall be as if it had not been. KINGS. " The real king that God makes is the man who melts all wills into his own. " Carlyle. I READ of kings and princes, how they sought With flattering word and deed to hold the dower Their sires bequeathed, and with new grants of power The sufferance of the half-freed nations bought. How vain and foolish is their race, I thought, Who strut upon the stage their little hour. Yet, like the meanest mortal, in the flower Of pride and pomp, must perish and be naught. Then fell the seer's words across my page: KINGS, 179 The only king and sovereign by God's grace, Is he who melts all wills into his own. When this one comes to claim his heri- tage, How we fall back to give the monarch place, And bend the obedient knee before his throne ! WEAVING. The fair-armed Helen in her fragrant room In Priam's palace, while the bloody- fight Raged in the plain below, beyond her sight, Worked at a purple garment on the loom. Into the web she wove pictures of gloom And glory, deeds of prowess and of might. Labors of Greeks and Trojans till black night Enwrapt them and they came upon their doom. Thus on the spreading loom of Time we weave The garment of our life ; the web we crowd With shifting images by fate allowed WEAVING. I8l To fill from nothingness our short re- prieve ; And haste the work although so loth to leave What, being finished, serves us for a shroud. A SHATTERED GLASS. Among the curious trifles travellers show, Are bits of flashing, rainbow-tinted glass, Dropped by the hand of Time, that in the grass Of seldom-trodden fields half-hidden glow. What cups and bowls they fashioned who may know ? But tales they tell to the new men that pass Of old-time feasts and revels, and, alas ! Of pride and joy that perished long ago. That was a beauteous vase from which we drank Sunshine and smiles and love's sweet potion till From hands too weak to bear its weight it sank, A SHATTERED GLASS. 1 83 And its frail rainbows shattered. If you will, Let us take up the fragments while we thank A gracious Heaven that these are left us stiU. SURPLUS. With fullest sunshine that yon heaven reveals Glittered the temple-walls of his abode ; And life on him those richest gifts be- stowed Which else with niggard hand it most conceals. The obstacles at which the faint soul feels Its strength give way, were crushed, when not the goad To new success, like pebbles on the road, Scarce noticed 'neath a conqueror's chariot-wheels. But his heart trembled, for he wisely said : I am unworthy of this perfect feast : Lo ! I bring offerings to each jealous god; SURPLUS. 185 Let not one be forgot, not even the least, If so I may escape the avenging rod : Of state too prosperous I am afraid. FLORENCE. Like some fair woman on whose breast are hung Jewels of price, so decked from side to side With towers and domes and palaces, in pride And state she sits the circling hills among. Into her lap the centuries have flung Their splendid spoils, and art with art has vied To weave her charmed raiment to abide And keep her ever beautiful and young. And those who pass beneath her potent sway She welcomes nobly, and with royal mien Points where her garnered stores of treasure he. FLORENCE. 1 8/ Take of them what you will, she seems to say: Here are no limits, for a queen am I, Generous in giving as befits a queen. SHELLEY. He sang the Titan's woes and victory, Himself a Titan through whose giant mind Astounding shapes swept swifter than the wind, And than the wind more grand and high and free. Ever his ardent vision seemed to see Amid the glorious structures he de- . signed Of poetry, the weal of human-kind, A reign of hope and love and liberty. Stilled is that heart, so loyal and so brave, Within the compass of a funeral urn, Beneath the shade of cypresses and pines. But sweet as violets blooming on the o^rave SHELLEY. 189 His voice remains, and bright his proud verse shines As in the skies the deathless planets burn. n. COR CORDIUM. All that the water and the fire have spared. The purifying elements that blend With the remembrance of thy early end Whom the gods loved, now with the earth is shared. Amid a scene of beauty unimpaired By blot or stain, upon thy grave descend The cypress shadows while above extend Such realms of splendor as thy verse declared. O Heart of Hearts I repose beneath the sod. The immortal spirit marvellously great Has found on heights of fame its glorious seat. With flaming wings and garments of a god, 190 SHELLEY. Upon those mountain-peaks it keeps its state While Time rolls up our plaudits to its feet. Rome, 1881. ROME AFTER 1870. Mother 01 Xauons. on whose classic brow Glittered in turn the imperial diadem, The royal fillet, and that brighter gem With which free men their chosen chief endow ; To-Kiay's fresh crown prints nobler fur- rows now Upon thy front than left by aU of them. New pearls of promise deck thy gar- ment's hem. And thy pulse quivers at a people's vow. Child of these later times ! yield to thy land Again the blessings it has rendered thee : Last, precious conquest of a valiant band, Weary of bondage, strugg'irg to be free, 192 ROME AFTER 1870. Resolved on union, — be the strong right Hand As still thou art the Heart of Italy ! TO ROME. A GARDEN of Armida wherein flows A stream of sweet oblivion, where the roar And din of far-off fights is heard no more, Where for all wounds some healing bal- sam grows ; A dream in which no dread of waking throws Its darkling shadow o'er the fancy's store, But where the radiant-fingered hours outpour Long draughts of rest, refreshment, and repose; Both these, — a vision, an enchanted space, — City of cities 1 when the eyes have seen 13 194 '^O ROME. Thy deeper mysteries, dost thou appear. Fain would the heart, in homage to thy grace And grandeur, cry that the wide world might hear : Hail ! mighty Rome ! my mistress and my queen ! II. Like an o'erwhelming wind that sweeps along The path on which glad bands of pil- grims come, Lashing their limbs till they grow stiff and numb, Smiting their lips and robbing them of song; So do thy mighty shadows move among The daily shows, upon their fronts the sum And story of the Past ; and speech is dumb, And dead desire before that wondrous throng. What should he prate whose ear is strained to catch TO ROME. 195 Their voiceless accents ? how torment the heart With thoughts aside from their imperi- ous sway ? Back, every crowding image, while we watch The spirits' progress, and e'en thou de- part, O Love ! unanswered ; this is not thy day. III. As in the presence of the loved one fly, For him who loves, the golden-wingM hours. So 'mid the circle of thy charm, with showers Of gifts and benisons the days go by. And as his mistress still the lover's eye Invests with new-found beauties, so fresh flowers Upon thy bounteous lap the lavish Pow- ers Seem to our dazzled sight to multiply. And one divinely-drunken spirit nods 196 TO ROME, Above the cup thou bear'st, crying: 'T is fraught With joy ; drink deep while the wine overflows. But one more wise a warning word be- stows ; Heart ! let thy bliss be tempered by the thought — Excess of rapture pleases not the gods. ANTINOUS OF THE VATICAN. Antinous, upon thy brow of snow It seems as if the gathered sunshine lay Of ages, and about thy sweet hps play The same glad smiles that wreathed them long ago. Thy curls' luxuriant clusters seem to glow With the old life ; we almost hear thee say The word thou usedst to murmur in that day When love's kiss burned on thy mouth's perfect bow. O sweetest youth that ever human eyes Have gazed upon, thou mak'st the heart grow warm Of him who lifts his glance to thee above. And thine, besides the charm of face and form, 198 ANTINOUS OF THE VATICAN. His higher fame of whom the poet cries: " How noble is his end who dies for love ! " 1 1 " Che bel fin fa chi ben amando more ! " Petrarch. A BAS-RELIEF. A WHITE-ROBED priestess by an altar stands, Whence breath of flowers and flame of sacrifice With intermingled smoke of incense rise, Serving the god with fair and stainless hands. Up an ascending pathway come the bands Of worshippers with gifts ; their yearn- ing eyes Turned towards the goal that in the dis- tance Hes Like some cloud structure reared in sun- set lands. But now the shrine is reached ; each one has bowed Before the gracious presence ; each has passed, 200 A BAS-RELIEF. Leaving his offering, of the adoring throng. Garlands and jewels there are strewn ; and last A smihng youth, bright-haired and eager- browed. Lays at the altar's foot a wreath of song. ADDIO A ROMA. Serba, o cittk ! un silenzio maestoso ; Tu di chi parte non senti il dolore ; Tu sei eterna, e in immortal splendore Brilla il volto tuo, alto e luminoso, Verso di te lo sgnardo lacrimoso Volge nelP ultima ora il viaggiatore, E col pianto misto, dal triste cuore Prorompe il suo discorso amoroso. Cara e beata ! ti cinge il pensier raio, Come le braccia nelP ardente amplesso D' amor 1' oggetto stringon del desio. Tu che mi porti d' ogni mal 1' obblio, E il mio cammin rischiari col riflesso D' un indicibil gioia — addio, addio ! ON LEAVING ITALY. As one who gazes on a dear dead face, When all is o'er, and cannot let it go, But with hot tears, and accents weak with woe, Pleads for one last reprieve, one little space, Before the grave shall cover all that grace Which even in death the palHd features show, Knowing that while the stream of life shall flow, No newer love this old one can replace ; So do I turn once more, and yet once more, Land of my love, my lingering look on thee. A month, — a week, — a day ; — it may not be : ON LEA VING ITAL V. 203 So sounds the message that the further shore Cries to its messenger th' unfeeling sea. Farewell, O Italy 1 my Italy ! Love Poems and Sonnets BY OWEN INNSLY T SitoM £tHtuni BOSTON A. 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