PS ■ ■ 'ii |W?]H sr,\TTeR€D MISTS wm III MAUDM, BROWNt: n ^1 ilii i ^i\ • 'Ik ^^^^^BjHM^ ■"'—r:^ iliiii ! I i 1 1 ■, i ^H r i '1 ! .i i: ii! ': Class _JPSlS^03 Book K ? -ti^ S3 Gopyriglit]^^. l^J t COPVRIGHT DEPOSm SCATTERED MISTS MAUD M. BROWNE ^/jmetveUTA BOSTON THE GORHAM PRESS MCMXVni Copyright, 1918, by Maud M. Browne All Rights Reserved MADE IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA The Gorham Prbss, Boston, U. S. A. NOV 18 i'd!8 To MY MOTHER And to the Memory of MY FATHER This little book is dedicated CONTENTS Page To America 9 To Every American lO "To Those Who Say I Am A Failure" 12 "Fortissimi Sunt Belgae" 13 A Garden 15 Spring 16 Fall 17 The Ocean's Sway 18 Dawn 20 Spring 21 Greeting to Winter 22 Blow, Winds 23 The Mountains of Colorado 24 Morning in June 26 The Mountains 28 March 29 Spring Winds 30 Beauty 31 Sunset 32 Spring is Calling 33 Misunderstanding 34 A Dream 35 Ruth 36 Spring Music 37 The Friend 38 A Prayer 39 Lullaby 40 The Price 41 5 Contents PAGE Tonight 42 Athena 43 An Old Man's Thoughts 44 Illusion 46 Felicia 48 Understanding 49 Song and Picture 50 My Little Sister 51 The Mayflower Baby 53 Artist's Goal 54 A Forest Lullaby 55 To Mary 56 Snow-Shoeing in February 57 In Memory of a Singer 58 Adventure 59 "Divine Fire" 61 A Dream 62 Response 63 Dear Lad 64 Comradeship 65 Lullaby 66 The Prayer of a Middle Aged Leader 67 Today — At Your House 69 Dante 70 A Lament for the Young Earl of Essex 71 SCATTERED MISTS Scattered Mists TO AMERICA Oh Spirit of America, Thou art not dead, And we who are about to Live salute you ! Careless sons of Pilgrims old, Greedy sons of Pilgrims new. Our hearts a little purged of self, Aflame with love for thee, untold, Unplumbed, unguessed in depth, Salute you ! Oh Spirit of Liberty, Whom now we know As spirit, pervade our souls, inspire us With stern desire to train the Will, To Prove thy light is burning on And that we will not let it die. Oh steady us that we prepare Aright for that "New birth Of Freedom." Democracy ! Thou word of import. Embodiment of man's belief in man, Our ears accustomed to thy name Were dulled, but now, unstopped, they hear. Our eyes long blinded by externals Behold again thy glorious presence. We Will to prove thy meaning. Lead us on! 9 Scattered Mists TO EVERY AMERICAN Search your heart, seek your closet Oh you American! Face the facts, ask yourself With Sternness tonight "How am I living? What am I Being Each day of life? Am I accepting, receiving only. Eating, and drinking, and clothing myself, Enjoying, merely, material things?" Oh Smug and Complacent Repent ye ! Repent ! Lay not the blame for this wholly on others, Nor put Today's duty nor that of Tomorrow On some other one's shoulders. Stifle not conscience with platitudinous sentiments Patriotic and National however they sound. "Rend your hearts, not your garments!" Think to some purpose, use all your brain power. Sweat Blood if need be! Dream not, sentimental, thinking that magic Can save our republic. Neither foam at the mouth at Inaction in Others. "Justice and Liberty." What do they mean to you? And "Consent of the Governed"? The Builders who worked for them. Lived for them, 10 Scattered Mists Put brain, heart and soul into labor, Sacrificed the day's comfort, sleep in the night time, Were vigilant, active ! Rise from your apathy! Get to work and stop talking. Put your soul and your mind And your body to testing! Cease fault-finding with others. Do your part without smallness. Use your Head ; put your Mind into Service! II Scattered Mists •TO THOSE WHO SAY I AM A FAILURE" (Democracy Speaks to Such Americans) Confess! Ye greedy and ungrateful children Who have taken all I had to give Confess ! I have not failed You ! 'Tis Ye have sucked Me dry! Ye took, and took, and gave me nothing back. I falter, and ye cry against me! Another effort ! And if this fail to rouse ye I die, and ye die with me. But yours will be a death of Soul, While I shall rise again In some far distant land Among an alien people. For always have I lived, and ever Shall the life of me go on Within the hearts of lofty minded men. Throw ofF the garments of your apathy And cleanse your hearts! Consider! Prepare to give with joy the things I need, to Live and Grow forever. I want your Brain, your greatest power Of connected Thinking! I want your Heart, Free and Single in my Service. I need Your Will to Do, but more than that Your Will to Be, from day to day. From week to week, from year to year. My Fellow Workmen ! Look deep into your souls and raise To light the Seed I planted there! 12 Scattered Mists "FORTISSIMI SUNT BELGAE" (In the early dajs of the Great War, King Albert of Belgium, in a proclamation to his people drew their attention to the fact that Julius Caeser had described their ancestors as the "bravest of all.") Long, long ago, in a quiet study-hall Above a lovely Doric-pillared porch, Where naught was heard except the sweet spring winds, That came so softly through the old school door To tease the wandering fancy of our youth With dreams, such as the young forever dream. Long, long ago, when peace dwelt in our land, And we who read the "Commentaries" saw Those marching hosts of Belgians, Teutons, Gauls, As beings of an age remote in time and thought And feeling from our own, — long, long ago, We learned "Fortissimi sunt Belgae!" That old white building on the hill has passed Away, but memories of that moving phrase Remain, to stir our hearts in this dark time. We never thought that in the years to come We'd weep for thee, oh tragic Belgian land, Despoiled and rudely torn ! We never dreamed Your manly king would use great Caesar's words To fix his agitated people's thoughts Upon the one thing needful. Well it was That Caeser said "Fortissimi sunt Belgae!" 13 Scattered Mists For better 'tis to Die than to submit ! Better to strike one blow for freedom now Than live long lives of ease, with plenty fed! Then hail to You of whom we still can say With thankful pride, "Fortissimi sunt Belgae!' 14 Scattered Mists A GARDEN No Persian garden have I ever seen, Nor heard the bulbul's song, so rich and rare, But how can any roses be more fair, More deeply red, more sweet, than these that lean And strew with velvet petals, all the green Soft turf ? That drift on pools, when summer air Doth take its fill of fragrance, where It floats caressing roses, tho unseen. And how can any bulbul sing more sweet Than this my western bird of black and gold ? His rich full notes stir all the heart can hold Of music's sweet suggestions, thots as fleet, And feelings evanescent. Leave me here! Old Omar could not find a place more dear. 15 Scattered Mists SPRING That busy maid, Swift-Fingered Spring Is knitting lace of green on every bough. The noisy red-winged black-birds swing On meadow grasses now. A quiet butterfly's a-wing Where leafless cherry trees Their spicy odors fling To any lazy breeze, And orioles begin to sing In praise of thee, Swift-Fingered Spring. i6 Scattered Mists FALL In the whirl of leaves by autumn's breath blown, When streams are chill, And the faint farewell of song-birds south flown O'er wind-swept hill. In the crow's slow call, And the nuts' loud fall, And the waiting gray that hangs over us all — We have heard thy voice, oh Frosty Fall! 17 Scattered Mists THE OCEAN'S SWAY Oh Persian garden of roses, and birds and dreams, Thy promised gift seemed one with heart's desire, But when the western mountains' sunset fire And midnight moon of beauty, called me higher. And bade me see the soul of things, aspire To joys undreamed, to heights of thought unsealed, I wandered long with them, nor ever failed To find the calm of heaven-healing streams. Oh glorious in sun, in moon, in shade, Are western mountains — purple and rose and gold. I thot the round earth surely could not hold Within its belt of seas, or Heaven's wide fold, A rival beauty — that the secret told In midnight silence on the Great Divide Encompassed all. The universal tide Of Being held me close, and long I stayed ! And yet tonight I'm very far away. The garden gifts were fair as fair could be. The mountain calm a revelation unto me; — But then I did not know the wondrous Sea! So grand, alluring, changeless, free, Its loveliness to many songs compels, Tho none the half its glory ever tells. That's why today, I own the ocean's sway! i8 Scattered Mists How oft we meet and pass so lightly by the way Those whom we surname "Strange," and then some day By glance, or word, or touch, the barriers fall And with a shock the man*s true self we see So close beside. Then very blest are we If to acknowledge him, with glad surprise Our hearts and lips respond — the while our eyes With tears are wet, to think what we have made Of life. The price Convention asked we've paid, Forgetting that the sweetest blessings fall When not too late we hear the Stranger's call. Is there anything more sweet Than winds of May? They bring the odors fleet Of woodland flowers, Of fragrant showers From orchard bowers. Of snowy petals dancing gay, Where orioles do sing and sway, Sway and sing to winds of May! 19 Scattered Mists DAWN Oh Beautiful Dawn, I feel you approaching, Your first sweet morning gale Blows softly in my face. The flower-laden apple boughs So drooping, fragrance laden, Lift a little, sway a little, in response. Then the grass takes up the movement With a whisper — petal-showers fall, And the leaves soon rustle softly, While the sky blooms rose and saffron, And a bird sings songs to Dawn. 20 Scattered Mists SPRING Again, again, the spring returns again ! There is a distant roaring in the north. And after many a storm of wind and rain, From chains of ice, imprisoned streams burst forth! Oh Springing Force, thou dost revivify Our hearts, so long oppressed with heavy pain. And into hopes that bruised and withered lie Thou pourest balm of soft and tearlike rain. I'm glad, my dear, to take you by the hand, To walk with you in fields we love. I think we understand Each other. Do we need to prove What Cometh softly as the Spring When life again hath stirred And joy is everywhere a-wing And song's in every bird ? ai Scattered Mists GREETING TO WINTER Tho' chill the wind, and roughly swift His rude embrace of every bending form, In naked beauty, careless of the storm, The elms, their slender arms uplift. Tho' dull and cold our winding brook And gray the day, and barren all the hills, I know that winter, summer's love fulfills, And watch for earth's reflective look. Oh all my heart Sing thou a song of joy! Such as doth come When after pain Of soul and body Health renews again The broken spirit. When after rain Of bitter tears and inward strife Celestial Peace descends Upon the broken Life! 22 Scattered Mists BLOW, WINDS! Swell out the sails of the gay little ships, Whiten the wavelets' green rolling tips, Spread smooth the path where the sea-gull dips. And blow, winds, blow! Bend o'er the marge each shore-growing flower, Freshen them well with a rainbow shower, Then sing a song from the pines' high tower And blow, winds, blow! Roughen the ripples of the stream's wide expanse, Lead the scudding clouds in a wild merry dance, With a sparkling beauty all this day enhance, And blow, winds, blow! Swift before your strength speed the carolling bird. Fill with the sweetness of your breath the startled herd, Bathe with your vigor all my being, song-stirred, And blow, winds, blow ! Speak forth a message from that sky-hung tower, Tell me the secret of your strong free power, Give me the forceful Word for one compelling hour ! Then blow, winds, blow! 23 Scattered Mists THE MOUNTAINS OF COLORADO The Plain recedes. With eager hearts We climb the giant Palisade. Thru keener air we hasten on Past rushing creeks of sun-washed brown, Whose banks are now one field of blue, Where columbines waist-high do grow Not far away from banks of snow, And painted-cups their scarlet flaunt In the very face of the cold, their taunt, So fiery-hearted, grow they here! And now the trees are few and small, A stinging wind comes with the creek As from its highest gate it pours. The mountain-clover's pinkish bloom Alone grows here. And near So near, despite midsummer's warmth. Are banks, hard, compact banks of snow! This is the very height of heights I Back-bone of this great western world! Where streams divide, where whirlwinds ride In freedom, clouds do make their home And rolling thund'rously do paint These mountain vales with shadows blue, Not of one blue, but many tints With not a hint of red to warm Their cold pure color. 24 Scattered Mists Storm clouds pass, And glory trails along the peaks As toward his western home, the sun Departs, with royal cavalcade. The heart then aches with thankfulness For gift of sight to see this End Of Day upon the Ridge of Earth, Where Beauty in a thousand shapes And colors, rich, majestic, proud, Sails onward in translucent seas. The sun has gone, his train passed on. And night has come upon the heights. The winds of Heaven more coldly sweep A-down the canyon. Say what song Is that they sing as they rush along? When the moon comes up they drop to a sigh, And so softly sing as they go by, That it seems to one with the listening ear The whirling of worlds he can almost hear, And the Heart of the Universe beats near. 25 Scattered Mists MORNING IN JUNE 'Tis morn ! The darkness of the night has fled Before the sun! Each narrow pointed grass Is edged with drops of dew. Each dandelion opens its fluffy golden ball, And softly floating earthward The apple petals fall! Thou glorious sun of morn, Whose kiss absorbs each grass-tip's dew, Whose light makes all these hills Glow beauteously, Behold a devotee! Under blossom-weighted trees Bright orioles flash to and fro And whistle clear. The bobolinks scold as they fly. While quiet birds of yellow-green Earthward help the blossoms sweet, With slow and careless motion Like snow-flakes of an early winter storm. See, Friendly Sun, How old New England hills and vales, All glacier-scarred, Respond to universal warmth ! 26 Scattered Mists Such delicacy of loveliness In hue and line, Odor and sound, Cannot be found elsewhere In all thy wanderings. Our natures too, so bruised With struggling long against the rock, Respond to thee, oh Sun, And to thy beauty -clothed fields! Oh clothe us with thy loveliness And cover all our scars! 37 Scattered Mists THE MOUNTAINS 'Tis midnight now upon the Great Divide, The moon's white light bathes all this wondrous place Till Universe seems Spirit — full of grace The softened lines of jagged peaks. Abide With us, oh radiant Moon, and pour thy tide Of glory on each seeking upturned face. As signs of birth-throes thou dost here erase From off the scarred and wounded mountain side. Such silence here as none would ever dream. The fresh cool winds, tho felt, do move so still That not a memory of sound doth fill The thot. Invisible, the noiseless stream Is pouring in each heart its healing balm And on the soul descends Olympian calm. Scattered Mists MARCH Fresh and new, A.nd bathed with rain, and swept by Winds of March, Are all the fields to-day. This old world laughs For joy at spring's return. The blue Of circled hills, soft-veiled by distance, Leads us on to dreams of beauty. Hail, Oh lovely color of hills and sky and lake ! Within your blue, girt by it, and below it, Come sudden bursts and puffs of green and yellow. Maples wear their red and silver, elms their lace. Oh who can paint the movement of this world? Today the winds of heaven are rushing on Through space, to hymns of gladness. What a race For life all nature makes! a9 Scattered Mists SPRING WINDS O Singing Lady, make for me A song of wind and river, When, softly flowing toward the sea, They make the shore-grass quiver. When every green thing bendeth low Before the zephyr's playing. And Guinevere doth often go With Lancelot, a-Maying. When skies are blue, and blue the sea. And dear brown birds are singing. When winds of spring are floating free Their woodland odors bringing! Then Singing Lady, make for me A song of May-time gladness, And I will gayly follow thee Forgetting winter-sadness. 30 Scattered Mists BEAUTY O Living Presence, Infinite, enfold me! With thy soft and thrilling stillness, With thy harmony of woodland sounds, And flower bloom and starry songs, fill my being! 1 reach to thee, thou moving power, Thou calm, yet never-resting one; My mind, my soul, my heart Cry out to thee. For I am young And thou dost speak to me of life And Joy, and hidden mystic things. 31 Scattered Mists SUNSET Black elms lean to the river, And the willows along the shore Bend to the sun-touched water, That singeth a song, evermore. Rose-petal cloudlets are flying Through a green, translucent sea. Where the Venus-star is vying With sun, and sky, and tree. Swiftly the night-wind is bringing A lavender veil for them all. And the river moves on singing Its answer to ocean's call. Up from the eastern sky-line Comes swinging a lantern-moon, Bringing a gorgeous mid-summer sign That mysteries of night follow soon. 32 Scattered Mists SPRING IS CALLING The Spring is calling! Virgin-free She dances down the hill, Then tiptoes soft beside me In gown of daffodil. Her frilly sleeve comes nearer, Her hand is in my hair, Her voice is growing clearer. Upon the still sweet air. Soft winds are blowing sweetly Across her crocus lawns. Thin clouds are moving fleetly From out her topaz dawns. With tightened breath I answer With heart a-stop I hear To what this wild gay dancer Is whispering in my ear. 33 Scattered Mists MISUNDERSTANDING In the white fields, watching the sun's pale glow, I stand alone and breathe the frost-edged air. "Fresh morning gales, that hasten wheresoe'er The sun doth roam, and ever onward flow, To the Great West a message straightway blow To one I love ! Oh wild sweet winds, take care Of these my words, and very swiftly go With child-affection, girlhood's tender love. To her whose woman-face I plainly see Since tears of pain make keen the memory. And more than these I would that ye could prove- ' Misunderstood, not understanding thee, I love, and always shall, it scemeth me!' " 34 Scattered Mists A DREAM It seemed we two sat on a height, A crag that overhung a deep ravine. Far off the plain with color glowed, An opalescent stretch of earth, Sea-like in coloring and size. Behind and far upon each side, The snow-crowned western mountains rose. Height upon height, a ridge of rocks. But on that bare and rocky ridge. As on the eastern plain afar, The morning sun so softly played With living tint and shifting breeze We could but feel that we were near The heart of things! No word we spoke But sat and gazed for long — and then With one accord we looked upon Each other, needing not the sound Of voice nor touch of hand, for we Were One in spirit. Naught remained In this clear light, at this great height, Of any fault — and what we saw Before our eyes was very good ! 35 Scattered Mists RUTH Sweet as the breath of the valley, Keen as the wind on the hill, Free as the air of the plain-land Where the breezes wander at will, Pure as the orchard petals That drift with the sweet May breeze, Gay as the dancing sunlight That gladdens the orchard trees. Clear as the placid lakelet That lies in its gold-green vale, Fearless and truthful and joyous As the ship unfurling its sail To go on a long, long journey I"ar over the wondrous sea, With not much thought of "What has been" But ever of "What will be." 36 Scattered Mists SPRING MUSIC Dear Heart, let us forget The world and all its creeds, All its false hopes and fancied needs, And wander where the spirit leads Thru forest path to flowery meads Of joj'. Let us forget! Sweet Spring doth beckon us To worship at the shrine Where God himself hath set the sign And given his voice to grove of pine And singing brook. To its confine Sweet Spring, O welcome us ! Then listen to her music, A low-toned melody Of gay song-bird and wind-blown tree, With care-free voice of the deep blue sea, A lovely, swaying harmony, O listen to her music! 37 Scattered Mists THE FRIEND She dwells upon a height, A mountain, cloud-capped, beautiful: — With softest opalescent colors crowned At morning tide: With pure and dazzling white At evening. Because her home is high, Because she dwells with stars and many-colored clouds, Hath learned much of God, of light and love. She Cometh to the valley oft And begs us to go with her. To live with her, forever and forever. O friend so strong and true, More clear our light, Our hope more high, Our love more deep. Because of you ! 38 Scattered Mists A PRAYER Creator of Earth, and Sky, and Sea, God of the clouds that float so free, Maker of every wind-blown tree, Lover of beautiful harmony. Grant the boon I ask of thee ! Heart of the world, O hear my prayer, Give this dear girl thy loving care. Open her eyes to thy beauty so fair. Open her ears to thy songs so rare, Comfort her, strengthen her, folded there. Giver of Joy, thy sunshine send, Giver of Peace, thy calm strength lend, Then with Truth let these two blend, Into gracious womanhood, brave to the end. O grant this blessing to my sweet friend ! 39 Scattered Mists LULLABY My little child, my soft-eyed dove, The moon shines pale on silver streams. Come, let us sail to the Isle of Love, Where lies the land of golden dreams. Oh sweet west wind, now lightly blow Our pink-sailed ship to sunset caves; And rivers sing, as on you flow To sleep in green old ocean's waves. My baby dear, thy mother's arm Hath curves as soft as feathers be To birdies young — then fear no harm For safe we glide to the western sea. Its shores are lined with crimson shells Which tell in strange melodious tone, Like far-olif peal of wind-swung bells, The wonders of the world they've known. An island there has valleys green. Where poppies dance to a sleepy air, And drowsy-eyed their dreaming queen Enfolds you in her heavy-sweet hair. Then here's a kiss on eyes and brow, A soft "good-night" by silver streams. For I must back to the Land of Now, While you float down to the Isle of Dreams. 40 Scattered Mists THE PRICE I stood at morn upon a sun-kissed hill And reached for heaven with my arms flung wide. My strength seemed boundless ; eagerly I cried — "In me, O Life, your Dream of Joy, fulfill." I listened breathless on that sun-kissed hill To singing winds ; and in their music sweet An answer came, whose harp-toned, throbbing beat Held my wild heart. In dreams I hear it still! answering winds from surging, sunlit, sea, 1 lift my face again to 3^our soft caress; Once more I hear your song of Joy — Ah yes, Us Tragic undertone still comes to me! 41 Scattered Mists TONIGHT My friend, my friend, I long for you tonight, I'm tired of this world — the old delight In nature-shapes and sounds, the dawn of day, The song of birds north-flown to woods of May, The winds of space whose hymns do thrill My soul at other times — tonight they fill My heart with sense of isolation. You Alone could fill the void, could see the blue Where only saddest colors seem to show The hostile face of a world I do not know. Scattered Mists ATHENA "Indifferent and cold," so you have said, And yet, the day you made your judgment, took The obvious love and left me here alone, That day I held my self so still Because the soul within was torn with anguish. Jealousy, which I had thought, no part In me had ever held dominion, paid Me back for all my scorn of her, And I who long had waited you in faith And sure serenity of spirit, find You gone. And gone the philosophic calm. The poise with which I've met each shock before I've even longed for methods used by those Who love the flesh alone. No virtue is it That I use them not, for pride is so ingrained [n me, I could not if I would. 43 Scattered Mists AN OLD MAN'S THOUGHTS Inexorable Death — that conies to all, How thou hast followed me, these many years ! ' My mother, wife, and child, all that I loved, Have met thee, each in turn, and gone with thee, Upon their fated journey — leaving me To face the sad gray world alone. My heart Was hard within me then, for well I knew They did not wish to go and leave me here; But now, I thank thee, Death, and ask that thou Wilt come for me, and soon — so tired am I. A hostile world this seems to me, which once. Aglow with light and love, invited all My effort. Hostile and hard the face of man, Appraising, sharp, the glance of woman ; No place for the old is here, no work, no hope For him who once was young and very strong, Who did his part, and suffered on the way Without complaint. How helpless are the old ! In men's mad onward rush, material gain To win, they care not that the weak are crushed Nor that the feeble old are hopeless made. 44 Scattered Mists Good Death — release me now ! My Mother Earth Will sure receive me kindly. When my grief Was young and stern she spread her beauties out, And now she'll not refuse to fold me where My loved ones lie. 'Tis so I welcome thee And that long journey to thy realm unknown. 45 Scattered Mists ILLUSION Far, far hast thou wandered, sweet morning of May And dear thy returning! A dream, I roamed thy hyacinthine way? Then still I'd be dreaming! Blue days, without number in thy gardens, oh May ! Bright-hued the flowers! How green the lawns, where soft-limbed children play 'Neath air-castle towers! Long time I sought thee, throughout the bright day ! Near fountain's white foaming; By meadow green, where sunbeams love to stay, In child-garden roaming. At last I saw thee ! Raised my hands to thine Oh Gift-Bestowing! There a bubble shone and still doth shine Colorful and glowing! Oh Spirit that movcth the universe. Thou God of the sky, the earth, the sea. Oh carry me back — Oh let me immerse My soul in the fountain of Unity! For the one-ness of things I long again For a wholeness to life, a chance to se« Thy truth as it is in the best of men, Thy love as shown iii patience with mc 46 Scattered Mists Oh spread again before my door A view of thy world — and at the end Grant me the blessing to see once more The sum of all good in the face of my friend. Oh dearest, dearest, come to me. Forgive My truant tongue, my stubborn will, my pride. I care not who was in the wrong — I wish To see thy face and feel again the calm And sweetness of our early friendship. Bring Your old self hither and today forget My over-sensitive ways, imaginations Vain. Remember only that we've been Good friends for long! I do not always understand thee, dear, But I do know I love thee well, And what is more I'm not afraid to tell Thee so, thou art to me so dear. 'Tis true thou art not always just to me. My temper rises then in truth. It may be I'm not always fair to thee, Thine anger is as quick in sooth. We're both too sensitive and too high-strung Too independent and too free Of sp)eech. And yet — my love has swung Thy way, and thou art dear to me. 47 Scattered Mists FELICIA When daj^s were neither dark nor bright, she came Across my way. Then commonplaces fled And grayness vanished, as before the flame Of some bright sun, quick-bursting thru a cloud. The scattered mists so gloriously sped Revealed a dormant spirit that seemed dead Responding to new life! We laughed aloud For joy at friendship's glad surprise, and went Our happy way together in content. 48 Scattered Mists UNDERSTANDING Into the bend of my arm she comes creeping, creep- ing, Into the curve of my neck she lays her head, sleeping. To my whispered, "Rest, Sweet, rest!" Drowsy murmurs, "Dearest, Best, Nobody else ever understands me, Why you do I cannot see, Only know, I love you so!" Into my heart love-laughter comes leaping, sweeping, Over this dear blessed girl who lies sleeping Close and warm upon my breast. With her murmured "Dearest, Best, Nobody else ever understood me, Why you do I never could see, But you know I love you so !" 49 Scattered Mists SONG AND PICTURE Light and color, glowing, flowing, Walk with her to their delight, Where the morning winds are blowing Round the edges of the night. Blue sky canopy above her, Blue, her beauty seeking eyes. Blue, the gold-green ocean water, When a cloud across it flies! Blue, the gown around her blowing, But pure gold her wind-tossed hair, Gold, the sunlight round her flowing, Gold, the palpitating air. Splashed with light upon them, in them, Gleam the waters of the pool, Where the tinted starfish sun them In their homes so still and cool. Moving radiance, ripples glowing. Flash across her morning face, As she watches waters flowing, As she feels the winds of space. Without words a song she's singing, There beside the ebbing sea. Without brush a picture flinging On the windy canvas free! 50 Scattered Mists MY LITTLE SISTER The wind-flower, anemone, is dancing with the breeze. All delicate and fairy-like beneath dark forest trees. The arbutus, so rosy-sweet, is smiling in the sun. And shyly up she looks at us, with joy that spring's begun! Hepaticas have opened out their furry coats of gray, And spread their deep-blue beauty forth, to wel- come in the May. Across a cloudless sky runs wild the joyous wind of spring, And everywhere some happy bird lifts up its voice to sing! Oh wind-flowers, and may-flowers, and birds upon the trees, I know a radiant loveliness to match with all of these. She's walking on the hill-top with the sunshine in her hair, There's nothing in this bright spring world more beautiful and fair! All glorified with laughter are those eyes of flower blue, With wonder, and with innocence, and deepest knowledge, too. 51 Scattered Mists The flush of dawn is on her face, dew-washed, like buds of May. Her wind-tossed, shining hair reflects the sunlight's brightest ray. Her sweetness and her daintiness are like the forest things When bathed with sun and wind and rain that storm-cleaned April brings. The joyous freedom of her glance is very good to see. Her happy laugh at all the world doth wholly glad- den me. Oh wind-flowers, and may-flowers, and birds among the trees, I know a radiant loveliness surpassing all of these. She's walking on the hill-top, with the sunshine in her hair. There's nothing in this bright spring world more beautiful and fair! 5* Scattered Mists THE MAYFLOWER BABY The Mayflower baby walks in the wood, She tosses the brown leaves around, Then laughingly takes off her dainty pink hood And leaves it there on the ground. Her clean rosy dress she flings to the breeze And lets it go where it will. It settles beneath the singing pine trees On the sunny south side of the hill, The Mayflower baby looks abroad, Then down at her petticoats sweet, And off they come with a satisfied nod Of astonished surprise at the feat. When Mayflower baby's body is bare She lifts her face up to mine. 1 smell the spring in her soft gold hair, 1 see in her eyes its sign. 53 Scattered Mists ARTIST'S GOAL If I could but make a picture Of her lovely outward grace, Of her slim, free girlish figure. Of her searching eager face, I would paint her hair so golden With some pigment from the sun, When it's hazed with sparkling topaz Of the day that's just begun. Then I'd use the rosy mayflower For her cheeks so fresh and sweet. With some honey-mixed translucence Where her neck and shoulders meet. Far upon a hill I'd place her, Moving gayly, swiftly by, Like the wind-chased clouds around her In the clean spring-fragrant sky. Or I'd paint her moving slowly Down some sleepy, winding stream, Mouth all curves and sweet suggestions. Eyes far-following some faint dream. Could I ever hope to capture Her simplicity of soul. Her unconscious silent rapture, I would reach my artist's goal. 54 Scattered Mists A FOREST LULLABY Little one, dear one, Rosy-sweet and near one, Come to me I pray. Here the shadows soft are falling, Here the silence sweet is calling, Calling thee to stay. Little one, dear one, Flower-like and near one, Come with me I say. Here the vesper-thrush is singing, Here the pine his balsam's flinging, On the Nod-land Way. Sleep, with moonlight round thee bringing, Dreams of fun and play. Let thy sunlight thoughts go winging, Winging far away. 55 Scattered Mists TO MARY You rolling hills and eastward flowing river, You graceful elms with banners softly waving, You whispering grasses, covering slope and summit, All your beauties bring, and here enfold her. Enfold our Mary, for she loved you well. Bright sun, bringer of joy, she felt your kinship And caught your sweetness at the dawn time coming. Fresh breeze, a-wandering from old Ocean's cham- ber. Oft she gave you greeting, face uplifted ; Ah, who in words her loveliness could tell? Not long ago we walked these lanes together. Beneath the whitened apple boughs, we stole With footsteps hushed, our ears for song expectant; And the grosbeak's melody burst forth. Oh bird, rose-breasted, sing again where she doth dwell ! Across these fields we've watched the jaunty red- wing. And heard the yellow-hammer's invitation To go adventuring. We've flung to winds A brave farewell, 'gainst the bluebird's lamentation That winter's here again, in every nook and dell. Now soon the snow will cover all this hillside And gusty winds will drive the song-birds south, But ah, for these I would not be in sorrow, Could I but see thy winsome face again ; Dear girl, sweet friend and lovely memory, Farewell ! S6 Scattered Mists SNOW-SHOEING IN FEBRUARY How the sun sets a-sparkle the snow-covered hills! How he smiles and smiles on the ice-bound rills Till they slo^\'ly turn 'neath their heavy white chains And send forth a message to silent plains! With the blue sky above and the deep snow below With a soft friendly wind blowing sweetly and low, Across open fields, among the still pines, We wander at will 'mong the Old Year's signs. For he leaves them late, the beauty to show Of skeleton flowers against the pure snow, And the naked trees, with delicate care. Lift their arms to the sun-warmed, food-giving air. The contagion of spirit descends on us all. And our glad voices answer with comradely call. These friends we have known but for one short day. Whom the woods called forth to congenial play. We have seen their eyes glow in responsive delight, At the beauty of morning, of on-coming night, And we feel, in a thankful, wondering way, That this is a perfectly, satisfying day! 57 Scattered Mists IN MEMORY OF A SINGER Sweetly fall their words of praise, Their tribute due — yet all the while We're missing, through these lonely days. Her gracious way, her lovely smile. But yesterday she satisfied Our careless hearts with glorious song. Today we vainly cry "Abide Oh Beautiful and Pure and Strong!" "The world hath need of such as thou Who living, patient — without fear Could die — and dying, sing "Oh, Now I'm going Home! My God is here!" Your music gladdened all our days. You sang on, trusting to the End, And entered thus the Untrodden Ways, Oh true and noble friend ! When I had said unto my heart and you, "I am thy friend," I loved the thot so well, I could not think of words wherewith to tell Aloud my feeling to that inmost You, That flashes me unspoken greeting when Your honest eyes look up to mine. But then I know my own do give an answering sign For all my heart goes out to meet with thine ! 58 Scattered Mists ADVENTURE Two tiny maids were climbing The heights above the bay And mission-bells were chiming As they went on their way To see the End of Day. Quite bravely had they started From Mother-Dear at noon So gay and blithesome hearted With song and merry tune Across the fields of June. A wayward impulse caught them And bore them up the hill. There wild adventure sought them And pushed and tugged, until They reached the top, so still ! So still the world ! and fearsome, The clouds so near and white ! So wide the world ! and awesome. The winds that swept the height, Beneath a sun, too bright. So golden shone that western sun Across the Golden Gate That sky and sea and land were one In gorgeous regal state The daily End to wait! 59 Scattered Mists The tiny maids were staring. Their eyes grown big and round, At thought of so far faring On wild and alien ground With not a home-like sound ! And almost had they started To return the way they came When some Swift Swallow darted Across the golden flame Of sky and sea — the same ! He showed to them the fiowers That lined that golden shore Where poppy-petal showers Had spread the plain's wide floor Up to the mountain-door! He called them from the hill-top To flower fields below, He bade them all their tears stop And play where poppies grow And lovely breezes blow! And later when returning To Mother-Dear alone. Their hearts within were burning For Beauty that was shown Which was before unknown! 60 Scattered Mists "DIVINE FIRE" He walked the narrow streets with joyous mien, Thro' slimy wa^s, where Heav'n's sweet rain came down Polluted by the breath of smoky town And sweat of beasts and men. "What can be seen," All others cried — "the bricks and steel between, Of ever-living beauty? Truth's bright crown Hath slipped its place of honor and renown." And evermore they cried, "Life's mean!" These words he heard — he felt the dust and heat, He saw the pain of life, yet knew its joy. A sudden flash of sunset sky oft turned To flaming beauty, all that naked street, And he beheld ; nor recked their loud annoy. But smiled, for ev'n in them the glory burned ! 6i Scattered Mists A DREAM Silver willows by a stream Sang and swayed as in a dream. Summer winds blew soft and low Where the waters silent flow. Thus they sang within my dream As they swayed beside the stream. "We, the fruit of lamentation, Robed for grief, with heads bowed down, Hear the weeping of all mortals, Weep with you, and pray for you." 62 Scattered Mists RESPONSE Hark, Comrades of my Soul, to the mountains call ! O'er the primrose path of the valle}^ it flo will bring rne healing? 68 Scattered Mists TODAY— AT YOUR HOUSE The flying clouds of early spring Go racing toward the sun. The birds are everywhere, and sing For joy at coming home. They sing with melting gladness Around your Closed House-Door, They pour their music-madness Upon our hearts so sore. The new leaves in your garden Unfold their curling ends To catch this sudden flooding Of gifts the Giver sends. The grass lies green and golden Upon your sun-washed lawn. The paths are there — Oh come then ! How can it be you've gone? I'm standing at the door-way. You'll come. And soon I'll see Your face and hear you say How much of late you've missed me. 69 Scattered Mists DANTE thou, long tossed with tempest and afflicted, Whose ship of h'fe seemed wrecked how many a time ! Whose dauntless spirit rode above the storm In spite of enemies Florentine and others, Receive my tribute! Lonely-hearted Man, Thy words do burn us yet, to purify. In that stern search for peace, by day, by night. Through forests dark, o'er mountains steep, By rocky paths, uncheered by friendly word, Was born the Comedy Divine. The flesh Had drowned thee in the thought of thine own hurt, But Beatrice and sweet Virgilius led On that rough way. Thou art my guide, and I With thee have traversed the city of Dole, with thee Beheld the Blessed Maid, and more than all Have walked with thee the streets of Florence. Its delicate tower and wondrous dome, Its spendid women, impetuous men, 1 see them all and understand thy love. Though oft thy voice had ris'n from black-robed throngs, (That eager then the market place did crowd,) Against injustice, they knew thee not. For them you pierced the politician's cloak of lies And showed the foul within. They banished thee! 70 Scattered Mists O Voice of Ages, wordless and dim, For this I would lift up to thee my thanks. That days of sorrow crushed thee not, Nor turned thy feet from seeking Truth, Eternal. A LAMENT FOR THE YOUNG EARL OF ESSEX Is't three days now since boom of cannon told To guilty queen and subjects, that his head Had fallen upon the block? "A traitor bold To peaceful England and our throne," she said, (Who loves the name of "Lily-handed queen.") Not thus can she and Burleigh hope to stay The murm 'rings of the people. They have seen His spirit bright the price of envy pay. And I, who sit in Essex House alone. In grief that his young life must needs depart As one whose deeds are evil, — I alone Remember that he feared not Death's swift dart Upon the field of battle ; nay, in sooth. He oft defied her! Lisbon's gates looked down On that eager face's challenge to her youth And found not one in that dark Southern town 71 Scattered Mists Who dared combat with him. Recall ye how Navarre's strong camp in admiration gave The name "English Achilles?" Alas, that now I hear him called a traitor! What doth save Me from despair? Outside my window here Slow-moving Thames doth lash itself, the spray Wind-driv'n, blows hard against my face. I fear The river's moaning and the sky's cold gray. Can I, a sad-eyed woman, old in pain, Can I be she who wandered with young Joy A-down old Penshurst's sweet rose-bordered lane? (Ah Rose of Love, — thee Death cannot destroy!) For there, one night, midsummer's dream came true, No more of Lyly's grotesque parley then! And no more sighs, with eyes downcast to sue Fate's answer, ere it came. Love's silence then ! To me the memories of past joy remain. To England's queen, for whom he gave a life Of buoyant service, — bitter the cup of pain And long the hours of night, and fierce the strife 'Twixt pride and love, the woman and the queen ! 12 ,„f'BRARy OF S,^GnEss 015 799