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ERRATUM. 
 
 The poem between the 40th and 49th 
 pages is continuous— nothing has been 
 omitted. A mistake was made in num- 
 bering the pages. The 49th page should 
 have been the 41st. 
 

 a a a a a 
 
 
 %• 
 
 A POEM, 
 
 
 By "B. S.. Standistv., anUiox oi Rmong 
 Vke X)ells, and SYiad(Kw"\Ag\a. 
 
 WEST UNION, IOWA: 
 BLACKMUN & McCLINTOCK 
 
 1889 
 
' 3 
 
 Cop3rrig , litecL iaa. IS S3. 
 
BEYOND OR HERE. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 
 
 The day wore on; the sick one slept; 
 A slippered watch attendants kept; 
 For, as 1 some statue, fair and white, 
 But broken when the wind made shift, 
 And flung upon a winter drift, 
 So had she lain a day and night. 
 The sun again had crossed the bridge 
 That arched above their little world, 
 And now, upon the western ridge, 
 Held all his gorgeous flags unfurled; 
 A single fleecy cloud o'erhead 
 Seemed anchored all the afternoon, 
 As if a ship, with ready sail, 
 That bore some mark of former gale, 
 Would take the spirit of the dead, 
 And journey heavenward with it soon; 
 The winds had ceased their whisperings, 
 And hushed their currents to the 
 
 springs, 
 As if they feared that she might take 
 Her passage, if she should awake. 
 
4 BEYOND 
 
 But just before the twilight gloom 
 Had dimmed the brightness of the room, 
 The sleeper filled her lustrous eyes 
 With sudden light, as of surprise; 
 They wandered round the narrow place, 
 And fell at last on Phebe's face; 
 And then she said, "t had a dream; 
 It was so strange! it does not seem 
 Like that; and, yet, it made me feel 
 So glad I wish it had been real." 
 
 As when in days of adorous spring 
 One sees a landscape that he loves, 
 And turns, with memory lingering 
 Upon it till he looks again, 
 80 twixt the hours of changing pain 
 Her broken memory ever turned 
 To some bright vision she had seen; 
 And, piece by piece, the listeners learned 
 This story, gathered up between. 
 
 I dreamed that I had come beside 
 A rapid river, deep and wide; 
 Its waters, from an unseen source, 
 Were surging on an unknown course; 
 And yet they seemed to be as clear 
 As waters of a pebbled mere. 
 I laid me down beside the stream 
 And fell asleep, as you have seen 
 
OR HERE. 5 
 
 Me slumbering beneaMi this dream; 
 My mother came— and such a smile 
 She wore— it was a heavenly smile! 
 And she was as she used to be, 
 Save in the substance that was she; 
 And as a mother lilts her child 
 She raised me in her outstretched arms, 
 And seemed to ask me, as she smiled, 
 If she could place me in the surge — 
 And all this time her looks were charms. 
 I did not speak; she did not urge, 
 But gently let me settle down. 
 At which I had a brief regret, 
 Then thought that only this was set 
 Between us and the future crown. 
 And as I sank my thoughts were fleet, 
 From childhood's spring to winter's 
 
 sleet, 
 And all the seasons of my lite 
 Swept by me with their storms of strife; 
 But when the soft and cooling tide 
 Had placed me on the other side, 
 I did not feel my cureless wound; 
 I lay and listened for a sound. 
 Upon the steps I seemed to lie, 
 Before a half transparent door, 
 Which led into a mansion high, 
 And such as never seen before. 
 
6 BEYOND 
 
 And while I lay, upon the east 
 A wondrous morning w 7 as released; 
 A hundred rainbows seemed dissolved 
 And filtered on the broken sky, 
 Dark rock-like clouds had risen high, 
 With mountain passes, twixt whose 
 
 yeast 
 Of sun-lit margins one could see 
 The glory of the rising sun 
 Amid the wonders he had done. 
 The air was tremulous with light 
 And vapors rising from the hills, 
 Upon whose sides in silence stood 
 The drab battalions of the wood, 
 Whose green plumes seemed to move 
 
 with thrills, 
 As morning bore away the night. 
 Between me and those hills and slopes, 
 The mighty river surged and swept; 
 But I could see where I had slept 
 Upon the bank with feeble hopes; 
 And now, across that rapid stream, 
 The sun flung down his golden plank, 
 As I have seen the moon's full beam 
 Across some lake where wild deers 
 
 drank. 
 
 I could but mark the zephyrs now, 
 
OR HERE. 7 
 
 That touched the cheek and laved the 
 
 brow; 
 As soft as any air in June, 
 When bloom hath scent and birds have 
 
 tune, 
 And yet as bracing and as clear 
 As at the corning of the year 
 When o'er the prairies of the west 
 It wanders, finding little rest; 
 And as I breathed full measure in — 
 The measure of new lung and chest, 
 I did not feel my fell disease, 
 That which had left life's tie undone, 
 I felt the throb and faultless ease, 
 The throb of lover who has won, 
 The strength of runner who can win. 
 
 And so I would have gained my feet, 
 But now the noiseless palace door 
 Swung inward, o'er the marble floor; 
 And one stood there with sandaled feet, 
 And robes that mortal never wore. 
 I did not fear; I did not stir; 
 I could but gaze a little while 
 Upon the face that wore that smile, 
 As if I fam would speak to her. 
 But when she bid me come I rose 
 As one bewildered from repose, 
 
8 BEYOND 
 
 And followed, trustful as a child— 
 1 could but trust because she smiled. 
 
 We passed into an ample room, 
 Where yellow light o'ercame the gloom ; 
 There, on an elevated place, 
 And bending o'er a mighty book, 
 Stood the ideal of my race— 
 For such was he in form and face, 
 And kindness dwelt upon his look. 
 But there was one who lingered near, 
 As if to guide him as he scanned, 
 The pages in his quick command, 
 Or do some task surpassing dear. 
 And when 1 saw her standing there, 
 A great throb burst my very heart; 
 Was my lost morther waiting here ? 
 I had the unbelieving stare 
 That came when last we had to part. 
 But soon 1 took her outstretched hand, 
 While from my eyes down fell the tears, 
 As many as the lonely years 
 Since she had left that other land. 
 I could not speak; I could not stir; 
 I could but stand and gaze at her; 
 I had no question but would choke 
 The swollen passage of the throat; 
 I had no answer, but to stand 
 
OR HERE. 9 
 
 And give in pressure of that hand. 
 
 At last caressed, she turned again 
 Unto that being with the pen; 
 He searched the record for the name, 
 And seemed to scan the lengthened page, 
 And note the hour at which I came, 
 And the death- sickness, and the age; 
 Then with some word of welcome-home, 
 He closed the pages of that tome, 
 And turned and opened wide a door; 
 And mother took me by the hand, 
 And led me o'er the marble floor, 
 To odorous scenes and zephyrs bland. 
 
 My mother led me by the hand, 
 As when I was a little child; 
 Her language I could understand, 
 It was the speech of the old land, 
 And ever as she spoke she smiled. 
 And those bright eyes that shown on me 
 Were the bright eyes that used to be; 
 The same, and not the same, because 
 More light was there if that could be; 
 And ever with the speech and pause 
 Her face was glorious to see. 
 
 But now we paused ; my faultless sight 
 
lO BEYOND 
 
 Was greeted by a new delight; 
 A vale whose beauty silenced speech, 
 Led out as far as eye could reach; 
 And where the tar look ceased its 
 
 march- 
 Where clouds and mist-land seemed to 
 
 wait. 
 Appeared the outlines of an arch, 
 Above a dimly outlined gate. 
 And through the valley wound a brook, 
 Whose green banks seemed but lately 
 
 cropped; 
 O'er which the yellow willow shook 
 Full wands of verdure, never dropped. 
 Upon the right a gentle slope 
 Reached upward toward a mountain 
 
 height, 
 Whose lofty summit gave small hope 
 To traveler who might seek to climb 
 To other slope or valley prime 
 Beyond a ridge so cold and white. 
 But on that slope was many a grove 
 And forest that long time had throve, 
 Checked only by the line of cold 
 That high up marked the frozen mould. 
 Upon the left a lofty wall 
 {Sprang from the valley's growth of 
 
 grass, 
 With deep recess and open hall, 
 
OR HERE. 1 1 
 
 To whose dim daylight one might pass, 
 As to a room whose open door 
 Had let gray silence in before; 
 But these were solitudes of pines, 
 And on the rocks was many a shoot, 
 Which in the crevices took root, 
 Bearing aloft the swooning vines. 
 
 We stood upon the grassy edge 
 Of this long vale with double ledge, 
 When spoke my mother unto me: 
 "Go seek the gate, and go alone; 
 Rest by the brook and wall of stone, 
 As thou wouldst in the days of old." 
 My heart sprang up, but still I cared 
 Not now to question, had I dared; 
 I looked again to that far gate, 
 To mountain ridge, and wall of stone, 
 I fain had asked her still to wait, 
 But spoke not, for I was alone. 
 Again alone; I did not swoon, 
 But dimness came upon my eyes; 
 My heart beat wildly with surprise, 
 That she should leave me there so soon. 
 I looked about me and behind; 
 The palace stood, with many a gleam, 
 Between me and the mighty stream- 
 But still I would not go to find 
 
12 BEYOND 
 
 The old way thither if I could, 
 
 Trusting the future had more good. 
 
 I hurried forth, my eyes intent 
 
 On that great arch incloudland bent, 
 
 On that far gate whose shadowy mass 
 
 I longed impatiently to pass. 
 
 About me, as I onward passed, 
 Were velvet turf, and blossoms massed; 
 The old-time beauty that I knew, 
 The old-time jewels of the dew. 
 Above me moved the ancient sun, 
 With cloudy fragments, gray and white, 
 As if their journey was begun 
 To seek with me the land of light; 
 And thither moved the gentle breeze— 
 Which I could hear among the trees, 
 As if it fondled them anew, 
 liefore it bid a last adieu. 
 And as I passed the groves I heard 
 The song of many a well known bird; 
 And on the grasses and the mould 
 The sunlight and the leaves had made 
 A carpeting whose figures played 
 Their thousand changes as of old. 
 And these enticed me as L pressed, 
 With eyes upon the distant gate; 
 And then I thought of the behest, 
 
OR HERE. 13 
 
 "Beside the brook and meadow wait;" 
 And so I lingered, sitting down 
 Upon the grassy bank between. 
 The dark cool forest and the stream, 
 Just where was mingled many a sound. 
 
 Why had she bid me wait and rest? 
 I was not weary, was not faint; 
 I had not felt my death-complaint, 
 But forward still had gladly pressed. 
 Was there some lesson yet to learn, 
 Of patience or of sacrifice, 
 Before the gate of Paradise 
 Its golden bulk for me would turn? 
 I did not know, but this I knew, 
 The thiag she bid me do was best; 
 I trusted her who always true 
 Must still be true among the blest. 
 
 I lingered and I listened there 
 To mingled voice and whispering air; 
 I could but think the changes yet 
 Were not in landscape or in flower, 
 Were not in bird-song or in bower, 
 But in the beings I had met. 
 The little brook that wandered by 
 Was like some other 1 had seen, 
 
14 BEYOND 
 
 The grasses had a spring-like green, 
 In which were insects I had known, 
 in the old days and the old zone. 
 Would this be so beyond the gate? 
 Or did an unknown country wait, 
 Where everything was new and strange, 
 And never night and never change? 
 I did not like to think it so, 
 For while I yet might love the new, 
 I loved the old that had been true, 
 The good that I had learned to know. 
 
 And while I mused a golden bee 
 Went at its labor busily, 
 To gather up its scattered sweet, 
 In clover blossomj at my feet. 
 I heard it hum, as it would flit, 
 Between the white blooms where it lit; 
 Till it had gained its little share, 
 And then it rose up heavily, 
 With spiral growing in the air, 
 Until it drew a wavy line, 
 Into a dark recess of pine. 
 Ana then I rose, as if some hand 
 Had beckoned, saying, "Come with me, 
 Across the stepping-stones and sand, 
 And solve a double mystery." 
 
OR HERE. 15 
 
 I reached the barrier of stone, 
 By ferns and mosses overgrown, 
 W here roots were bulging from the wall , 
 Support (»f growth about to fall, 
 And entered there and stood alone. 
 Within that dark and deep recess, 
 The pines reared many a lofty trunk, 
 Whose veins with cold had never shrunk 
 VVhose 'boughs were never lopped or less. 
 Pine-needles underneath were spread, 
 A day fresh, and a century deep, 
 Where Nature made her lover's bed, 
 For rest, or revery, or sleep. 
 And then, as if she sweetly smiled 
 And smoothed the couch and bid me 
 
 lie, 
 I lay as passive as a child, 
 To listen to her lullaby. 
 
 High up a little sparrow sung 
 The braces of its evening song; 
 Supine 1 lay and listened long. 
 Ai.d peered between the bows among 
 '1 he tops where it seemed first and 
 
 strong; 
 But as I followed up the sound 
 A drowsiness came down on me, 
 
16 BEYOND 
 
 And eyes that looked forgot to see, 
 And closed at last on all around; 
 I listened, breathing long and deep, 
 And listening 1 fell asleep. 
 
 f 
 
OR HERE. 17 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 thp: reunion. 
 Aw*»ke, awake! I heard the sound 
 Of music and the soft rebound; 
 Awake, awake! I heard the call 
 Of all the senses and of all. 
 1 looked, I listened, and I stirred; 
 1 rose, I breathed, I saw, I heard; 
 I smiled to Ihink that I had slept, 
 If long how long I did not know; 
 I knew I had been safely kept, 
 Without a dream, without a fear, 
 Without the memory of a tear, 
 Without the feeling of a foe. 
 
 High up the little sparrow sung 
 The braces of its morning song; 
 It gave me pleasure when among 
 The leafy boughs I found my own. 
 It sang for what? It sang for me; 
 It sang the runes of melody, 
 Which I had heard, on many a morn, 
 Above the field tree and the corn. 
 It still was twilight in the nook, 
 But through the leafy tops the sun 
 
18 BEYOND 
 
 Shot arrows, while the light o'er run 
 
 The mountain toward the silver brook. 
 
 I moved, I walked; my heart beat 
 strong; 
 I wondered if I were too late, 
 Since I had slept outside the gate, 
 I wondered if I had been loner. 
 But, lo! the outlines of that mass, 
 Which had been dim and far to pass, 
 Were bright and beautiful, and grand, 
 Surpassing bright, and near at hand. 
 I looked away where lately stood 
 The palace, beautiful and bright; 
 It still was there, and not less good, 
 But dim and distant on the sight. 
 The mountain ridges, cold and vast, 
 Reached down the valley of the brook^ 
 And all the memory of the past 
 Rushed on me, as I turned to look; 
 The voice of her I longed to see 
 Came in that vision back to me, 
 "Go seek the gats and go alone." 
 1 looked, I listened, I obeyed; 
 1 listened, and was not afraid 
 To seek the gate and go alone. 
 
 He who had searched the mighty book, 
 
OR HERE. 19 
 
 Now stood beside that wondrous gate; 
 I saw he knew me by his look- 
 He beckoned when I fain would wait; 
 
 I came, he came, and took my hand, 
 And said a friend awaited me — 
 One I had loved in labor-land, 
 
 II ad loved, and lost, and now would see. 
 I followed, and he lead the way, 
 
 Out of ,the daylight into day, 
 
 With fear, with pain, with doubt at end, 
 
 Into the presence of a friend. 
 
 Like ribs diverging in a fan 
 Unnumbered paths before me ran, 
 Into a meadow green and fair, 
 Where sunlight fell through balmy air. 
 Here blossoms waving in their prime 
 Showed every path a different clime, 
 And bird inhabitants of these 
 Made music in the varied trees; 
 So any, waiting friendly hand, 
 Might take the path that lead apart, 
 And smiling follow with glad heart, 
 As if into his native land. 
 
 Which choose ye? this I choose be- 
 cause 
 The old association draws; 
 
20 BEYOND 
 
 It needs must lead to those who wait, 
 For yonder blossoms wnen a child 
 I gathered in the woodland wild, 
 And now I find them past the gate; 
 And yonder birds, I know them w*ll, 
 This is no stranger-land or path, 
 On this my friends would choose to 
 
 dwell, 
 I follow, follow; lead the way, 
 I follow, follow, if 1 may. 
 
 Each step brought back fond memo- 
 ries, 
 The things that I had learned are good 
 Came to me if I walked or stood, 
 The old true pleasure still could please. 
 And as we journeyed on in talk, 
 Of kindsmen and of former friends, 
 Of common losses and their ends, 
 We often would forget to walk, 
 In wonder at the full amends. 
 And I was going now to meet 
 Those snatched away in days of old, 
 Whose memory still to me was sweet, 
 Whose love and mine were never cold. 
 And this was gladness now to me, 
 That I could love them still as then — 
 That I could love as men with men. 
 
OR HERE. 21 
 
 And still be what I seemed to be. 
 Behold a niracle! I stood, 
 Devoid of flesh, with passion lost, 
 With intellect, and sense not crossed, 
 And all of self that Had been good; 
 New body, yet the same old form— 
 A friend would know me if we met, 
 Old love without the baser storm, 
 New currents in my being set; 
 And all the senses, all the five, 
 Perfected, present, and alive; 
 And faith was knowledge, knowledge 
 
 bliss, 
 And hope was safe and sure to find — 
 It still was hope as well as this, 
 And memory itself was kind. 
 
 The path now widened to a road, 
 With hill, with valley, and with plain, 
 Where field, and brook, and forest 
 
 showed 
 Old prospects that we e mine again. 
 And many a cottage now appeared, 
 Embodiment of old ideal, 
 That which life's labor had not reared, 
 Stood beautiful, and bright, and real. 
 
 At one near home a happy man 
 
22 BEYOND 
 
 Was pruning vines beside the road; 
 We paused to mark the heavy load 
 Of fruitage, following his plan; 
 And note if still they needed care, 
 In this new realm as they had There. 
 And when he spoke I marked his ways, 
 The kindness of the tone and word; 
 They were the same in other days, 
 When these without a fault were heard. 
 He smiled and said, what had been care 
 In former days perplexed no more; • 
 He knew the secrets— S') called there, 
 And this w T as why they throve and bore; 
 Indeed, conditions were the same — 
 Or much the same, and so the soil, 
 But he had knowledge, since he came, 
 And full dominion over toil. 
 "And have you seasons here," 1 asked, 
 "You have no winter; have you spring V" 
 His answer lifted half ihe mask 
 That hid a yet mysterious thing. 
 And then tie brought us luscious fruit, 
 The mellow pear and purple grape, 
 And all that grew was first to suit 
 In size and coloring and shape. 
 He bid us eat— what marvel still! 
 We had not felt the pangs for food. 
 Or sum as came against cur will 
 
OR HERE. 23 
 
 In days of waste, and needy blood. 
 And then he led ns through his ground, 
 Where grew the world's collected trees, 
 Perfected since his knowledge bound 
 Their native faults and tendencies. 
 And there were lesser vin s and shoots. 
 The humble growth, and earth-bound 
 
 fruits, 
 And blossoms, many-hued, whose bloom 
 Filled all the garden with perfume. 
 And she who in laborious days 
 Had been companion of his ways, 
 Within a lovely garden stood — 
 First flower of flowers, fair womanhood . 
 Her hands were full from m my a bed, 
 But learning we had lately come, 
 She wished to question us, she said, 
 Of former friends, and led us home. 
 
 She led us to a faultless home, 
 The dwelling of a faultless pair; 
 I marveled that a foot could roam 
 That ever found a welcome there; 
 And yet, I doubt not that of old ' 
 There were some homes as bright as this, 
 The memory of which was bliss, 
 To haunt us in the common cold. 
 She gave us seats of perfect ease, 
 
24 BEYOND 
 
 Then for a little while she hung 
 
 About an easel, that upbore 
 
 A bust to which her full heart clung, 
 
 From which she won it by degrees, 
 
 Then came and looked at it no more. 
 
 But when she turned I saw such glance 
 
 As lovers have whose eager eyes 
 
 Have sought the shrine thry idolize, 
 
 Yet questioning the public chance. 
 
 "In the far land from which you came, 
 I have a son— an only child, 
 A great musician, flush in tame, 
 Of him I ask," she said, and smiled; 
 "A precious bo} ! the name he bore 
 Is on this rug, and on our gate," 
 She tapped her slipper on the floor, 
 "For him it is we watch and wait." 
 I looked where lay her offspring's name, 
 As deeply colored as a flame; 
 I read, but dared not make reply, 
 1 looked, but fain had shunned her eye 
 "But he was great," she said, "or men 
 Grudged not to name his greatness then ; 
 But, haply, I have magnified 
 Somewhat his greatness, in my pride; 
 But he was beautiful, and dear; 
 And had you ever seen, you might 
 
OR HERE. 25 
 
 Recall him by a second sight- 
 Come see my latest painting here." 
 We stepped before the easel's load 
 While here bright eyes looked deep for 
 
 sign 
 Of recognition— half in fear, 
 As we beheld the work divine. 
 "I knew him not; perhaps because 
 I knew but few musicians there; 
 My lot was humble, where applause 
 For that was seldom flung in air." 
 'Twere twice a day in Paradise 
 Could I recalled that face and brought 
 The happy message that she sought, 
 Winning the sadness from her eyes. 
 
 "Thou hast great skill, methinks, in 
 paint; 
 A skill beyond the canvas taint, 
 Where that same mood which thou dost 
 
 seek 
 Springs to the lips that may not speak." 
 "The master touched it where my skill 
 Had failed to bring it to my will." 
 "And dost thou have a master here ?" 
 "They who were such in other days, 
 And one First Master great and dear 
 Who leads us ever in new ways." 
 
26 BEYOND 
 
 "In other days didst thou do this?" 
 "I mixed some color with dispair, 
 But my best work was all amiss. 
 Because the masters were not there." 
 
 She pointed where upon the wall 
 A fair and faultless painting hung; 
 Which showed a humble home among 
 The grouping trees that half hid all. 
 "My dear old home has memories, 
 Tco deep to be forgotten quite; 
 And I have hung it there you see, 
 Where it may always meet our sight; 
 The new home gives us true delight, 
 But tender memories linger there, 
 Of love, of labor, and of care, 
 Surrounded by a roseate light. 
 But still we cannot here forget, 
 It was the home of toil and death, 
 Where terror froze, and pain took 
 
 breath— 
 These have we not forgotten yet. 
 And so we do not wish to go, 
 We would not have the old days back; 
 The happy present with bright show 
 Leads forth upon an endless track." 
 
 And then she brought us food and 
 
OR HERE. 27 
 
 drink, 
 And talked of former mysteries; 
 And as we talked we could but think 
 We should have seen what was to be; 
 We should have seen, we did see oft, 
 And then some doubt hung up its veil 
 Before our sight, which needs must fail 
 Because we held it not aloft, 
 AQd with a calm and steady eye, 
 Looked out into the cloudless sky. 
 
 Adieu we bid the lady queen, 
 Adieu we bid her faultless mate, 
 Then sought the highway where of late 
 We dropped the quest of the unseen. 
 And as I thought of friends, light feet 
 Made quick and quicker their repeat, 
 As one who wanders long alone 
 Returning quickens near his own. 
 But there were others on the road. 
 Who greeted us with friendly talk, 
 And kept our way light-footed walk, 
 And tireless, since it had no load. 
 We learned of these, that close at hand, 
 A great assembly now was set, 
 With camp where wood and water met— 
 A lovely spot of lake and land, 
 And thither they had cast their fate, 
 
28 BEYOND 
 
 And now they journeyed to attend, 
 Where many met as friend with friend, 
 And heard the voices of the great. 
 
 And as we walked, with joy intense, 
 The leafy water-grove was seen, 
 Where stood a thousand thousand tents, 
 A city of the white and green. 
 And as we neared a chorus -song, 
 From an unseen and earnest throng, 
 Sent out its music and its thrills, 
 Across the landscape to the hills. 
 It ceased, and soon the busy air, 
 In all that lovely grove stood still. 
 We felt the silence everywhere, 
 As one may feel a twilight chill. 
 Our steps were light, and when anear, 
 Again that solid chorus rose; 
 All faultless to a faultless ear, 
 And rising to a faultless close. 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 Traise the Father; praise the Brother; 
 Praise the Father, and the Son; 
 Praise the Spirit; praise the Father; 
 Praise him that the old is done. 
 
 Let us praise him, and still praise him ; 
 Praise him for the now and this; 
 
OR HERE. 29 
 
 Praise him that the old-time graces, 
 Brought us to the present bliss. 
 
 Praise him that the old-time losses, 
 Come to us no more forever; 
 Praise him that the old-time crosses, 
 Bear upon us never, never. 
 
 Praise the Brother; praise the Father; 
 Praise him with loud melody; 
 Praise the Spirit; praise the Father; 
 Kothing now is mystery. 
 
 As we approached the singing ceased; 
 And in a great pavilion there, 
 A countless host that still increased 
 Were bowing low, as if in prayer. 
 Upon the rostrum far away, 
 From which the seatage took its rise, 
 A being sat with such surplice 
 As had no counterpart that day; 
 And when he rose, and forward came, 
 He said a traveler now would speak— 
 And then he gave the traveler's name, 
 Who through the worlds around of old 
 Had journeyed far and long to seek 
 The things which Earth had never told. 
 And then a tall and hoary man 
 Came down upon the level stage, 
 And he was manhood twinned with age, 
 
30 BEYOND 
 
 The outcome of a perfect plan. 
 He said his travels had begun 
 Upon the planet known as Mars, 
 The firy marvel, earthward spun, 
 First neighbor of the old-time stars. 
 A traveler there, of second birth, 
 Might think that by some fault un- 
 known 
 He had regained his native Earth, 
 But in some country not his own. 
 The people were advanced, refined; 
 The government, correct and kind ; 
 From pole to pole, from sea to sea, 
 It was one great democracy. 
 They once had war, but science grew, 
 And won the battles from the brave; 
 They ceased because the soldiers knew 
 A child might dig an army's grave; 
 And all the petty and the great 
 United in a common state; 
 And all the soldiers that had been— 
 The millions and the hungry men, 
 Turned plowmen, and it was a crime 
 To be too prodigal of time. 
 
 'Twas evening at the quiet town 
 Of that first planet's capital, 
 When, coming thither, I stepped down 
 Into their busy labor's lull; 
 
OR HERE. 31 
 
 I stood upon the river's bank, 
 Which through the close and narrow 
 
 land, 
 Of their dear ruler's idle sand, 
 Wound to a present sea and sank. 
 I saw the lights among the trees, 
 Shine from hand numbered palaces; 
 I stood in shadows where I caught 
 The newimpressions that all brought. 
 And then I heard a double step, 
 From toward the ruler's window gleam; 
 And two bright lovers hither came, 
 With form and feature without blame, 
 And through their veins the currents 
 
 leapt, 
 As they came downward to the stream. 
 They paused upon the moon-lit bank, 
 Beside a boat, half hid in shade— 
 I marveled at his soldier rank, 
 And that he wore a soldier's blade: 
 And as they reached the river's sand, 
 I saw him pause and take her hand, 
 Then with emotion this he said: 
 "Speak, Eveline, ere all too late! 
 Thy father's lights gleam through the 
 
 trees; 
 I am an idler of the seas— 
 A branded idler, with fixed fate; 
 
32 BEYOND 
 
 My home, my hope, my lands, my all, 
 
 Is yonder ship thy sire abhors; 
 
 The last survivor of old wars, 
 
 Whose greatness fill with war's great 
 
 fall; 
 Wouldst thou abandon all, and fly, 
 For such as this, for such as I ?" 
 The maiden threw one long sad look, 
 To those bright candles through the 
 
 trees ; 
 The moon danced on her or she shook 
 In struggle with fond memories; 
 She thought of her great father's pain, 
 Her common loss, her human gain; 
 Then dropped her eyes upon the sand, 
 Nor did she raise them once above. 
 Till putting in his own her hand, 
 She dared to say, "I will for love." 
 Then lip touched lip, and smiles were 
 
 bland, 
 As lightly down into that boat, 
 Upon the river's silver light, 
 Went manhood firm, and lady bright, 
 Out to their wandering home to float. 
 
 I lingered in those idle grounds, 
 But when I passed their narrow bounds, 
 I saw the dome and massive walls, 
 
OR HERE. 33 
 
 That marked their legislative halls; 
 The windows were ablaze with light, 
 And many feet w T ere goinor there; 
 I followed up the marble stair, 
 And reached a chamber's galleried 
 
 height. 
 The hall was wide, with little show; 
 The chosen of the nation's great, 
 It seems were gathered there below, 
 Id the first council of the state. 
 A special message from the head 
 Of the one re dm was being read; 
 And while I listened to the sounds, 
 I could bat think that those I saw, 
 Out in the ruler's idle grounds, 
 Were someway mingled with the law. 
 "No one in all the land may wed 
 Outside of his own proper sphere; 
 No idle man may be the head 
 Of any household, far or near; 
 And none who cling to outcast ways 
 May take a daughter of the land; 
 And none shali come with empty hand 
 To lead her into needy days; 
 And age shall wed no more with youth, 
 The tool shall sort not with the wise, 
 And the extreme? in taste and size 
 Shall break no more harmonious truth; 
 
34 BEYOND 
 
 The vain, the fickle, and the false, 
 May never wed, may never bear- 
 To crop the wings of common care 
 We must begin far back with faults. 
 And all the makers of the law 
 Responded, when their lips were free, 
 "It is his will; we find no flaw; 
 It is his will, so let it oe." 
 
 And while I listened and was still, 
 A neighboring door, that stood unfast, 
 Swung inward o'er its marble sill, 
 And I arose and thither passed. 
 Another chamber showed its length, 
 Like that from which I lately came; 
 As vast, as airy, and as tame, 
 And all its lines were lines of strength; 
 And round about on every hand 
 Hung maps of many a stranger world, 
 And globes on gilded trestles whirled, 
 With unknown sea, and unknown land. 
 The state astronomers it chanced, 
 From all the Mars-world now w T ere met, 
 That they might still new courage get, 
 And their great science be advanced. 
 It seems reports were being made, 
 Where special work had once been laid, 
 And one great scholar, with gray head, 
 
OR HERE. 35 
 
 Arose and with emotion said: 
 
 "While our relations with the far 
 
 And neighboring planets pleasant are, 
 
 And while our knowledge daily grows 
 
 Of their diverse inhabitants, 
 
 And while e ch eager answer shows 
 
 They understand our wa^s and wants, 
 
 A single planet, right at hand, 
 
 Has baffled wisdom half divine, 
 
 It does not seem to understand 
 
 A single signal or a sign; 
 
 And yet we know the people there 
 
 Are not all ignorant and base, 
 
 We see their cities glassy glare, 
 
 Their armies in the old disgrace, 
 
 Their ships beyond barbarian ease 
 
 Go foth upon the public seas; 
 
 And we still hope that there may be 
 
 Some earnest in astronomy, 
 
 And that ere long they too may heed 
 
 Our signals, and may learn to read." 
 
 He ceased, and then a lesser man 
 Arose in haste, in haste he said : 
 "It is no use, but better plan 
 To blot them from our thought as dead! 
 It is at best a barbarous race, 
 In war, in ignorance, and base; 
 
36 BEYOND 
 
 Turn we to many a better star; 
 They are but base; none baser are." 
 And all the wise men answered, "Nay, 
 They are our brothers; we must wait; 
 We cannot leave them to their fate; 
 We once were ignorant as they." 
 
 The speaker paused, and in the close 
 Of that vast tabernacle's ring, 
 The great and listening host arose, 
 And with one voice began to sing. 
 And while they sung I stood all dumb, 
 Beneath the splendid melodies 
 That wallowed in the upper seas, 
 Above the echoes that would come 
 From hills away beyond the trees. 
 But near the closing of the song, 
 My friend laid hand upon my sleeve, 
 And said, "We must not linger long, 
 Thy friends await; come let us leave." 
 And with a brief half felt regret, 
 Our faces from the camp were set. 
 
 Within the chambers of the west 
 The sun had tound a curtained rest.. 
 When to a once familiar gate 
 My dear companion turned to wait, 
 But smiling that I showed amaze, 
 
OR HERE. 37 
 
 And came with rapid beating heart, 
 To find the place the counterpart, 
 Or else the home of former days. 
 I dared not trust my voice as yet; 
 I wondered if it were a dream, 
 And wondered if time's mighty stream 
 Had once again with childhood set. 
 But now my friend drew near and said, 
 "Believe thine eyes, thine hopes, and me, 
 Believe the things you seem to see; 
 Thou art not longer dumb, or dead. 
 They who were thine, akin and near, 
 They who are thine are waiting here; 
 They open arms to welcome you; 
 I come again; to-night adieu." 
 And ere I could call up a tone 
 To make reply I stood alone. 
 
 Alone I stood, but soon and near 
 A once familiar voice I heard, 
 It spoke the language that was dear, 
 And memory's depth again was stirred. 
 My father came and took my hand, 
 He took my hand and bid me come, 
 It seemed as if the glass with sand 
 Had scarcely turned since just like this, 
 In other days, when days were bliss, 
 He pressed it in another land, 
 
38 BEYOND 
 
 And with that voice bid welcome home. 
 But now emotion broke his bliss, 
 Emotion broke the brief reply; 
 He could not trust his voice for this, 
 And my own voice scrace trusted I. 
 And then he led me up the walk, 
 Beneath the wide and well-known trees; 
 And mother with light footed walk 
 Came out to meet me and to seize; 
 And they who in the distant days 
 Had been of these as I of these, 
 Came round me like a dash ot seas, 
 And with light hearts and happy ways, 
 They bore me in a merry mood, 
 Within a re- united brood, 
 Into the home we once adored, 
 Into the old home, now restored. 
 
 Ah that reunion was not such 
 As in departed days we tried, 
 When hearts had sorrow, and he sighed 
 Who thought upon his own too much; 
 No grief came round to touch the mirth, 
 No smile was mingled with a pain, 
 No thought of some who tried in vain 
 To reach once more the parent hearth ; 
 But all had come, and some from far 
 In travels on a distant star; 
 
OR HERE. 39 
 
 And some from quiet country homes, 
 Or where were mingled spires and 
 
 domes; 
 And out of halls where science led 
 The growing mind in ways of truth; 
 And out of fields where pleasure fed 
 The cravings of an endless youth. 
 Each had his own, his full ideal, 
 Surpassing all the old and real. 
 But they had wished the old for this, 
 And anniversaries to come; 
 They asked where asking was the sum 
 Of all the labor for such bliss. 
 
 Upon that home fell happy night, 
 A night of stars and haloed light, 
 Into whose flying hours we kept 
 Such converse as with time had slept. 
 We talked and listened, many, each, 
 With bliss sometimes too deep for 
 
 speech. 
 When memory swept the halls of eld, 
 Or hope clasped endless time and held; 
 And many things I once had thought 
 Were hard and w r rong, were set aright, 
 And mystery became as naught 
 Beneath the new far-reaching light. 
 The realm to which 1 now had come 
 
40 BEYOND 
 
 I learned was not a single star; 
 A million million near and far 
 Marked not the bounderies of home; 
 And there were systems and degrees, 
 Beyond the faults of seeming chance, 
 Where endless time kept open seas, 
 O'er whose calm blue we might advance, 
 And by advancing we would find 
 The One Embodiment of Good, 
 Whose ways were scarcely understood 
 In the old days when faith was blind; 
 And faith was blind; but now the Son 
 Was with the many and the few; 
 His kinship and his great love drew 
 Still closer than it first had done. 
 
 And still in talk we lingered late, 
 And looked in faces long anseen, 
 In hearts and thoughts without a 
 
 screen, 
 On morrows fearing not their fate. 
 Then spake my brother, who on Earth 
 Was first in death, as first in birth, 
 And since that time had traveled far, 
 To many a planet, many a star, 
 And for this welcome just had come 
 Through leagues and leagues of space 
 
 alone, 
 
OR HERE. 49 
 
 And said, with downcast eyes, he came, 
 
 Returning, by a world in flame, 
 
 Some planet whose long course was 
 
 done, 
 Now burning like a burning sun. 
 Then miith went down in all who heard, 
 And many said the good night word, 
 And took their lamps, while silence 
 
 deep 
 Crept to the chambers of our sleep. 
 
 m 
 
50 BEYOND 
 
 PART THIRD. 
 
 WHICH IS BETTER. 
 
 This tooth-wiiite flower has petals 
 seven, 
 (A number strange for bloom like this) 
 Were each a day of happiness, 
 Nay, more! were each a day of heaven, 
 This flower, by dropping one by one, 
 Its ripened petals on the loam, 
 Might count the days of cloudless sun 
 We lingered at the dear old home. 
 Each then unto his own repaired— 
 The new that better pleased the eye, 
 If one might lay old memories by, 
 Or if for such he little cared. 
 For each was center, or was part, 
 Of other home as bright as this, 
 Where other memories made bliss, 
 And other households shared the heart; 
 And each had duties given to do, 
 That baired the useless waste of time; 
 Some message to a different clime, 
 Some work in science or in art, 
 Some work of hand or work of heart, 
 By doing which he throve and grew. 
 
OR HERE.' 51 
 
 Beside a village fair to see, 
 With open gate and ample grounds, 
 Upbearing many a fruitful tree, 
 Where breezes brought their changeful 
 
 sounds, 
 Swinging the voiceless b^lls of bloom, 
 My father's other home found room. 
 As we approached, that summer morn, 
 And gazed upon it standing there, 
 (Their home and mine— for I alone 
 Had never household of my own ; 
 And now I came back to their care, 
 A grown-up child, but newly born.) 
 A home it seemed where one might stop 
 And see time's ancient ocean drop 
 Its day-spheres bright into that sea 
 Which filling never full shall be. 
 
 We entered in— we three alone, 
 And wandered on through room and 
 
 hall, 
 And marked the beauty over all, 
 And felt the harmony of tone. 
 And ever as some new surprise 
 Sprang up to lips, or shown in eyes, 
 It gave them pleasure little less, 
 To know that they had guessed aright 
 Anticipating my delight, 
 
52 BEYOND 
 
 And wishing for my happiness. 
 Fair paintings hung upon the wall, 
 Some showing scenes of sorrow-land, 
 And some I did not understand, 
 Because I had not yet seen all. 
 And instruments stood round whose 
 
 keys 
 Brought scales of tones that could but 
 
 please; 
 And strings were waiting for the touch 
 Of hands that ever loved them much. 
 And there were rooms designed for me, 
 Arranged with all a mother's care, 
 Through whose broad windows nature 
 
 fair 
 Loked in to see a rival realm. 
 
 Ah, it was heaven to sit and rest, 
 With such surroundings as were there; 
 Or lay the head on parent breast, 
 And weep above the thoughts of care, 
 Above the thoughts of needy life, 
 Above the arrow, and the knife, 
 In love like this, in home so fair! 
 And it was heaven to wander forth, 
 Out through the walks of garden bloom, 
 Where every long-renewed perfume 
 Came to a sense of greater worth; 
 
OR HERE. 53 
 
 Out where the ranks of evergreens 
 Held many a mazy walk in screens; 
 Where eyes might look and weary not, 
 And feet might wander on forgot; 
 Out where the birds sang songs in truth, 
 To ears more quick and hard to suit; 
 Out where the ripe delicious fruit 
 Brought back the uncloyed taste of 
 youth. 
 
 While wandering through those odor- 
 ous grounds, 
 On that first day of new delight, 
 I heard a bell, whose puffy sounds 
 Came o'er the many-steepled height 
 Of that clean village on whose bounds 
 I now was standing with clear sight. 
 And when I asked what this might be, 
 My father answered, that a car 
 Was starting for some neighboring star, 
 Or system of immensity. 
 I then learned travelers went on these 
 Around the universe of light, 
 As once they went on watery seas 
 Around a world of day and night. 
 
 That evening when I sought my rest 
 Light slumbers on my eyelids pressed 
 
54 BEYOND 
 
 And ever when I tried to hear 
 1 heard bell-music, faint or near, 
 And fancied that I traveled far. 
 To mysteries of many a star, 
 Through light and night and through 
 
 the haze 
 That wrapped them in the olden days. 
 And, thinking, 1 resolved to see 
 These planets that to flesh were dumb— 
 If this would be permitted me, 
 One who was yet but newly come. 
 
 The passing days new pleasures lent 
 Yet thoughts of travel came and went. 
 Thrice had I sought the landing-place, 
 From which those bright aerial cars 
 Shot outward into common space, 
 And disappeared like shooting stars. 
 And ever as I saw them go 
 The memory of a vanquished law 
 Came on me, with delight and awe, 
 But that seen ed past, and better so. 
 And every day when I would turn 
 My footsteps from that port of space, 
 I went with head bowed from the place, 
 To think where I would move and learn. 
 
 One morning when the songster-horde 
 
OR HERE. 55 
 
 Made music for all ears to share, 
 I bid farewell, and stepped aboard, 
 For Saturn and the fields of air, 
 One empty glass it seemed, no more; 
 But day was gone, and night was there, 
 When near a city's gloom and glare 
 I landed on a sloping shore, 
 Where waters lap, and seafogs soar. 
 (The belt about that planet seen 
 In days of old by many a glass, 
 Is but the boundary between 
 The good and bad; and soon I saw 
 The outcome of a common law.) 
 
 I walked up through a gloomy street, 
 Deserted by the wear of feet, 
 Where all the buildings stood in gloom- 
 Save one, which had a feeble light, 
 That flickered from an open room, 
 Across the pavement in the night. 
 Here misery dwelt, and poverty 
 Was tyrant ruler one could see. 
 When near I paused because I heard 
 A voice that struggled with its breath, 
 As if to give some final word 
 Of counsel ere the choke of death. 
 A youth was standing near the door, 
 As if his hand and heart were stone, 
 
56 BEYOND 
 
 And he would leave, as all before, 
 
 The dying man to be alone. 
 
 Alone he was for none bent down 
 
 To touch the locks of tangled hair, 
 
 Alone, indeed, because he found 
 
 No sympathy, no love, no care! 
 
 But while I looked, upon his bed 
 
 He turned his withered form and said: 
 
 "My son, come near and take rny hand , 
 That dying I may counsel thee; 
 I have no ships, no stocks, no land, 
 To leave behind, no public name 
 That might a noisy catch-word be, 
 To help you on to wealth and fame; 
 But in their stead I leave in trust 
 This dagger, which if used aright 
 Will give thee half the world, if not, 
 It will but give thee instant nighs— 
 Deliverance from the common lot. 
 No counter dagger shall be thrust 
 Into the dumb and lifeless dust, 
 And never is the past set right. 
 
 "Look on this ragged poverty; 
 Look on this room; be warned of me! 
 Thou hast a heel; be ground or grind; 
 Thou hast a dagger; die or kill; 
 
OR HERE. 57 
 
 Revenge is sweet, and might makes 
 
 right; 
 Get power, get gold, feed self its fill; 
 The grave ends all; no one shall find, 
 A paradise beyond its night." 
 
 He ceased to speak; his form grew 
 still; 
 His offspring held the the keen knife 
 
 fast, 
 As if it strengthened his weak will, 
 And out into the dark night passed. 
 I shrunk and trembled, as with fear, 
 Till silence hovered o'er the street, 
 Behind Ms fleetly falling feet, 
 Then followed I, but not too near. 
 At last we reached an avenue 
 Where misty daylight seemed restored, 
 By many a strange devise that threw 
 The glare on structures many floored; 
 But here he paused as if in doubt, 
 And while he paused a woman's voice 
 Came through the vines and trees about 
 A well lit welling, high and choice; 
 With not unpleasing tones it gave 
 The music that enwrapped this stave: 
 
 "Come, thou cold-blood, come and tarry; 
 
 Do not pass my chamber by; 
 
58 BEYOND 
 
 Let us eat, and drink, and marry, 
 For to-morrow we must die" 
 And through the windows I could see 
 The forms of men and women pass, 
 And I could hear the clink of glass, 
 When wine touched lips that loudly 
 
 laughed, 
 And still more loudly as they quaffed; 
 And music made voluptuous glee 
 To celebrate a ribald mass. 
 And as I gazed I felt afraid, 
 Lest this one, too, might enter there; 
 I looked where he had lately stayed, 
 But he was gone; I knew not where. 
 
 Now wending slowly down the street 
 I marked the doors had locks and 
 
 chains, 
 And heavy bars of iron beat 
 Made ribs above the window-panes. 
 And many a dark far-reaching mass 
 Of solid masonry stood near, 
 Within I fancied I could hear 
 The clank of chains as I would pass; 
 While through each eyeless arch of 
 
 stones 
 I felt a tide of human groans. 
 And many a well lit hall I saw, . 
 Where men took drink which made 
 
OR HERE. 59 
 
 thein mad, 
 Then rushing forth, with maudlin 
 
 speech, 
 They cursed the people and the law. 
 
 At last 1 reached a public place, 
 Where all the city's sleek and great, 
 Assorted, seemed to congregate, 
 To gossjp, or show foot and face. 
 A little group attention drew, 
 Where one, more free in word or jest, 
 Had gained the silence of the rest, 
 To speek his loud blasphemy through; 
 And when his bold tones reached my ear 
 I could but pause awhile and hear. 
 
 "The age is one of progress great; 
 The center we; the hour is noon; 
 Our commerce bears the flag of state: 
 Fair business rules, and wealth comes 
 
 soon. 
 The law had never firmer grip— 
 And mine is mine; let hunger hate! 
 The headsman has a busy time; 
 To-day he let a hundred slip 
 Into that darker, damper clime; 
 He is our chamber-maid, who makes 
 The bed of fools, and tucks them in ; 
 Fear puts its thumb upon its chin 
 
60 BEYOND 
 
 And does like this; while villainy 
 
 quakes. 
 But death is sleep; there is no life 
 Beyond the grave, save that of worms; 
 And worms must die; give me quick 
 
 knife, 
 Or that for which my fancy yearns. 
 For who shall take the offal dust, 
 Call up the wandering soul, and wed 
 It to the bones whose powdered rust 
 The winds of boisterous time has fed, 
 Place me upon my feet and say, 
 Look you, this is a man again! 
 We who have reason mixed with clay 
 Have sense to know we are but men, 
 
 "This legend of a god, who rules 
 The affairs of men, is infant talk — 
 But fit for such as they, and fools 
 Whobe purposes illlortunes balk. 
 Who brings good luck and bad; who 
 
 knocks 
 The bottoms from our ships, and tears 
 Our sails; is't he, or winds and rocks 
 Which meddle with a man's affairs? 
 I hate the cause what e'er it be! 
 Who made the stars, the moon?, the 
 
 sun? 
 
OR HERE. 61 
 
 This legend says he made each one; 
 Then who made him say we? 
 Come, let us reason; all is chance; 
 And we are bubbles on a sea, 
 That float, and sink, as we advance." 
 
 Thus spoke he with uplifted hand, 
 And eyes all fire, and rounded word, 
 As anxious they should understand 
 The deep philosophy they heard. 
 They listened through, and silent kept; 
 Some smiled and nodded their assent, 
 Some waited still, in reverence bent, 
 As if they had a half-fed greed, 
 To hear again their common creed, 
 While I in silence turned, and wept. 
 
 Now let us leave the s:arless night 
 Of Saturn's darkened hemisphere, 
 And seek the purer atmosphere, 
 Beyond the belt which long has stood 
 Between the wicked and the good, 
 Keeping a realm of cloudless light, 
 And see a great heredity. 
 The evil, evil bear; the good 
 May keep their many-centuried blood 
 As pure as when it first ran free; 
 For every tree shall bear its kind, 
 
62 BEYOND 
 
 And every generation find 
 Our parents over still are we. 
 
 'Twas springtime of the long, long 
 
 year, 
 And twilight <«f the brief, brief day, 
 When first that balmy atmosphere 
 Played on my cheek, and wiped away 
 The traces of the fear and pain 
 That late had shadowed o'er my brain. 
 Ah, what a splendid, splendid sight, 
 Was that all-calm, majestic night! 
 Behind me rose that wall-like band, 
 Which still the sun made silver bright, 
 Above the shadows ot the night, 
 Supremely fair, divinely grand! 
 Before, afar, great oelts of cloud 
 Made ribs across the firmament, 
 Through which the twilight day was 
 
 sent, 
 Upon a world with youth endowed; 
 And in the mighty field of heaven, 
 Bright Titan, with his sisters seven, 
 Held up each one ics full-faced moon, 
 Like eight great silver suns at noon. 
 And while their splendor could but 
 
 please, 
 Their mysteries upon me brought 
 
OR HERE. 63 
 
 A sudden longing:, and I thought 
 That sometime I would visit these. 
 
 About my feet great blossoms grew, 
 Which changed their outlines and their 
 
 hue 
 E'en while my long-delighted gaze 
 Was wandering amid their blaze. 
 And frem the trees festoons of flowers 
 Let down their shade of swinging bow- 
 ers, 
 In which strange insects ever bore 
 Their handless lights through arch and 
 
 door, 
 Till one might think the groves were 
 
 campSj 
 With green tents lit by wandering 
 
 lamps. 
 And many a night-bird piped about 
 Its half bewildering melody, 
 Which seemed to hasten in and out 
 Of vales no human eye could see; 
 And soft brooks made an undertone 
 Of teasing music all their own. ' 
 And as I dallied with the score 
 I heard a distant bell whose sound 
 Approached the listening world around 
 As when a sudden hand has thrown 
 
64 BEYOND 
 
 Upon a placid pool a stone 
 
 The lessening waves approach the shore. 
 
 But soon o'er all the hills and dells 
 
 Arose the voice of answering bells, 
 
 As watchmen through the silent hours 
 
 Might call quick answers from their 
 
 towers. 
 Sweet sounds of holiness and peace! 
 Sweet sounds that give close thoughts 
 
 release, 
 And load them gently out from care 
 Into an atmosphere of prayer! 
 Ah, bells thou wert designed for this, 
 In the eternal right of things, 
 The fitness, as the brook to springs- 
 First handmaid thou of holy bliss. 
 
 Before the bells would be forgot, 
 I heard hymn-voices, not yet clear, 
 That rose from many a windowed cot, 
 Within a little village near. 
 In one of these, where trees grew dark, 
 The door was open, and the light 
 Flung out its tresses on the night, " 
 Across the highway, toward a park. 
 As I approached the singing ceased; 
 And then, as if in needy prayer, 
 A voice whose earnestness increased 
 
OR HERE. 65 
 
 Came out upon the evening air; 
 It asked for patience, and for strength, 
 To bear it o'er life's common care; 
 For holiness, and heaven at length, 
 In which its fellow-kind might share; 
 And then it asked for heart to give 
 Full grasp of kindness and of love 
 Where deeds of daily life must live; 
 And reverence for the things above. 
 I listened, but it ceased at last, 
 And as I moved and onward passed, 
 I caught a glimpse of the inside, 
 Where sat a sire in manhood's pride, 
 And smiling stroked the flowing hair 
 Of lovely childhood standing there. 
 
 The dwellings round on every hand 
 Seemed much alike; no narrow stalls 
 Where hunger dwelt; no palace grand, 
 To fling the shade on common walls; 
 It seemed as if the rich had shared 
 Their fortunes with the less-possessed, 
 Till all were rich, and all were blessed, 
 Because extremes no longer stared. 
 And 1 beheld the people all 
 Responding to the calling bells; 
 With happy looks and hurrying feet 
 They gathered in from every street 
 
66 BEYOND 
 
 Where I could see three steeples tall 
 Upon the summit of green swells. 
 
 The children of this happy throng 
 In one of these fair structures went, 
 And I could hear their chorus-song, 
 Which filled the building's hollow bent, 
 As sunlight fills the firmament. 
 Another held the white-haired old, 
 Where soon the shepherd of the fold 
 Came out to lead them, while they said 
 Their words of thanks for daily bread. 
 But when the middle-aged passed, 
 Into a long and splendid room, 
 I followed to a nook of gloom, 
 Where I could note the structure vast, 
 And hear the worship-song again, 
 Between the words of holy men. 
 
OR HERE. 67 
 
 PART FOURTH. 
 
 earth's mirror. 
 As one who stands upon the top 
 Of some vast mountain-ridge alone, 
 With silence round, and air and stone, 
 And one quick heart tnat will not stop, 
 And sees the tumbled world below, 
 With hills and vales and forests dim, 
 And feels an awe that chills like snow, 
 And says, these are the works of Him, 
 Look once again ere thou dost go! 
 So on that happy hemisphere 
 I looked with mingled awe and fear, 
 When I had gained the airy car 
 Which journeys round the jealms of 
 
 light, 
 And was to bear me soon and far 
 To Mercury, the warm and bright. 
 
 But when within, no more alone; 
 For there were others who like me 
 Had hither come to seek and see 
 A universe as yet unknown. 
 And it was not as when of old 
 We turned from those our eyes beheld, 
 
68 BEYOND 
 
 Because, through customs that were 
 
 cold, 
 The proffered hand might be repelled. 
 And as we glided on through space, 
 Without a noise, without a jar, 
 Emboldened by the smiling face 
 Of him who ruled the thought-swift 
 
 pace 
 Of that divine aerial car, 
 I sought to learn who he might be; 
 And ere we reached the planet's shore 
 I found his first-life history, 
 And talked and learned of many more. 
 
 ^lot long before, as we had grown 
 To look upon the flight of years, 
 Within the land of death and tears 
 This man had lived and dwelt alone. 
 In youth he wandered in the lanes 
 Which lead unto devices new, 
 And as their small proportions grew, 
 They filled his days with happy gains, 
 And while his comrades played, he 
 
 planned; 
 And while he slept some unseen hand 
 Seemed fashioning his boyish thought 
 For that great field wherein he wrought; 
 And ere his manhood he had grown 
 
OR HERE. 69 
 
 To be as one who walks alone, 
 The world unknowing and unknown. 
 But through his days one great desire 
 Burned in his heart and warmed him 
 
 through; 
 It lit his dreamy eyes with fire, 
 And kept him to one purpose true; 
 Through want, through poverty, 
 
 through pain, 
 Here rose his hopes and here they set, 
 And when he seemed about to gain, 
 Despair reached out and said, "Not yet!" 
 While children laughed as he went by, 
 And tapped their heads, and to their 
 
 kind 
 They whispered, with a knowing eye, 
 "He had an airy ship to try, 
 And it has sailed off with his mind." 
 Thus passed his day in helpless gain, 
 And when they covered up his ciay 
 Men said his life had been in vain. 
 And turned with heavy hearts away; 
 But springing up to realms of light, 
 By these forgotten, he attained 
 That which life's labor had not gained, 
 His chief desire and soul delight. 
 
 Before me sat a thoughtful pair, 
 
70 BEYOND 
 
 On whom would rest the wandering 
 
 sight, 
 The lady was divinely fair, 
 And he was courteous as a knight; 
 JBut it was ages since the leaven 
 Of human love had rilled their vein?, 
 For now they dwelt in higher heaven 
 Than that which first the comer gains; 
 And through this system's field, it 
 
 chanced, 
 That they were passing, on this car, 
 To some more glorious realm atar, 
 To which their worth had been ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 There is a river whose soft name 
 Still stands for beauty and for fame 
 Around the wide historic world; 
 Above her silver and her sand, 
 On many a lofty height still stand 
 Her mighty towers whose flags are 
 
 furled; 
 The traveler looks with bated breath 
 Upon these monuments of death, 
 Which time has crumbled to the fall; 
 He seems to see the knight again, 
 And hear the shout of maddened men, 
 Who charged upon the stubborn wall. 
 
OR HERE. 71 
 
 In such a land, in such an age, 
 These two were actors on life's stage. 
 
 In one of these gray castles dwelt 
 A great proprietor, whose land 
 Stretched far away on every hand, 
 And all the common people felt 
 A rule that ground them neath its heel, 
 With raek,with dungeon, and with steel. 
 A little state, where men were free, 
 Lay on the border of his realm, 
 He looked upon it grudgingly, 
 Then hither marched to overwhelm. 
 Within this state a man revered 
 Was he who by his birth was lord, 
 For he had raised the common hord, 
 Who loved that which they once had 
 
 feared. 
 And now, with all his loyal band, 
 He pressed the thick invaders back, 
 Till resting in the battle's slack 
 They rallied on his small command, 
 And broke it like a wall of reeds 
 Before the ocean's mane white steeds. 
 Then raged the lawless conquerer; 
 And women shrieked, and men were 
 
 speared; 
 And all the flood of barbarous war 
 
72 BEYOND 
 
 O'erran the homes that these had reared ; 
 But in the mountain regions wild, 
 The tew survivers of that night, 
 Urged on the long unequal fight, 
 For home, for parent, or for child. 
 The beautiful and loyal wife 
 Of him who once had ruled the free, 
 Was borne out from her happy life, 
 To dungeons and to misery; 
 Then tried as such as she were tried— 
 Where justice never sat nor came, 
 From which men went to lives of shame* 
 Or for their principles they died. 
 Then came the gibbet and the rack, 
 From which her steadfast soul escaped 
 And her bruised body was flung back 
 On those whose lives her love had 
 
 shaped. 
 Then broken was the people's pride; 
 And one who yielded not to tears, 
 Rushed forth upon invading spears, 
 And breaking through, he fought and 
 
 died. 
 
 The car was slackening its speed, 
 For round was many an asteroid, 
 Like islands on a stretch of sea, 
 Which crossing mariners avoid, 
 
OR HERE. 73 
 
 And change their course if they have 
 
 need, 
 Until the sough t-for port is gained; 
 So, sailing through immensity, 
 Our ship avoided many a shore, 
 Among these worlds where worlds had 
 
 waneJ, 
 For Flora which lay just before. 
 Full many a traveler changes here 
 Who journeys to the starry space, 
 Beyond this system's narrow place, 
 Where new celestial realms are dear. 
 The lady and her gentle knight 
 Would stop on this convenient shore; 
 They said good-bys with faces bright, 
 And then I never saw them more. 
 
 But in their stead a woman came, 
 Attended by a single friend; 
 And when we heard the woman's name, 
 We all arose, I knew not why, 
 Save that unto the farther end 
 Of this long car they did as I. 
 But neither beautiful nor great, 
 Was she to whom we showed respect, 
 Save in the greatness of her fate, 
 And in the beauty deeds had decked, 
 In that brief life upon the Earth, 
 
74 BEYOND 
 
 When fellow-man had learned her 
 worth. 
 
 This is the record beautiful; 
 These are the deeds which heaven re- 
 wards; 
 And justice sounds harmonious chords, 
 To which no listening ears are dull! 
 
 A fisherman, in labor-land, 
 Who lived beside the sea, grew ill; 
 For three long days his nets were still; 
 For three long nights his idle boat 
 Upon the rising tide would float 
 Then pant between the brine and sand. 
 And like a boat, with broken oar, 
 That rolls upon a restless sea 
 And dips and turns alternately, 
 Until it sinks and is no more, 
 So on his couch, from side to side, 
 In pain he strove, with waning strength, 
 Until he yielded up at length, 
 And with a feeble moaning died. 
 And they who heard the tidings said, 
 "It cannot be; he was so strong; 
 But three days back he was in song, 
 And now they say that he is dead." 
 But they would give him burial. 
 
OR HERE. 75 
 
 When they had done with this, and 
 
 turned 
 Unto their homes, his wife and all 
 Of their descent grew ill, and burned 
 With fever's fire, from side to side 
 Upon their beds, three days, then died. 
 The people now put looks in eyes 
 And said the thing w?s strange as sad, 
 And others heard it with surprise, 
 And said some curse the household had. 
 
 But when about that home disease 
 Beached out its frightful spider-legs, 
 A mortal terror seemed to seize 
 Society unto its dregs; 
 They said it is the dreaded pest, 
 And dropped their busy cares and fled; 
 The sick, the feeble, and the dead, 
 Kemained, deserted by the rest. 
 Then like an angel in the night 
 One gentle woman hither came, 
 The world abroad knew not her name, 
 Nor might have guessed her motives 
 
 right; 
 And in that field of pain and death 
 JShe moved with never-ceasing care, 
 They felt her presence everywhere, 
 And blessed it with departing breath ; 
 
76 BEYOND 
 
 Through all the winter of that blight 
 She nursed the sick and comforted, 
 And folded hands above the dead, 
 Then, like a flower that blooms at night, 
 When o'er the region lone and wide 
 The morning broke, with certain light, 
 She folded up her hands and died. 
 
 And now I learned the maiden fair 
 Who came with her as friend with 
 
 friend, 
 Was one who had been stricken there, 
 And found the stranger's bootless care, 
 Until her deep distress had end. 
 And since, in changeless gratitude, 
 It seemed her chief delight to be 
 With one who by her couch had stood 
 In that long hour of misery. 
 And as we journeyed on I marked 
 The kindnesses of each to each, 
 For one received with thoughtful 
 
 speech, 
 And one with deep contentment harked. 
 But soon our brief and tireless flight 
 Was slackened, for the burdened shore 
 Of Mercury was just before, 
 Where man and nature groaned in 
 
 night. 
 
OR HERE. 77 
 
 There was a time when they who 
 
 dwelt 
 On all this planet's fertile length, 
 Were prosperous and full of strength, 
 And honor lived, and worship knelt; 
 But with their strong and prosperous 
 
 days 
 Came vices and their sure decays; 
 And honor came to be unknown; 
 No man was honest or sincere; 
 And none had reverence or fear, 
 Or wish above his earthly own; 
 And virtue, from its mighty fall, 
 Had not an advocate or friend; 
 Philosophy taught death the end, 
 And common leveler of all. 
 
 Then came a stranger to their courts, 
 Beseeching them to turn and live, 
 And ask of Him who might forgive 
 To free them from their dark reports. 
 He came, but they received him not, 
 He preached, and w r ent, and was forgot; 
 But soon o'er all that fertile land, 
 A frightful and mysterious blight 
 Fell on them in a single night, 
 And rotted food in field and hand; 
 And then arose the sudden cry 
 
78 BEYOND 
 
 Of all the people in despair, 
 
 For hunger pinched them everywhere, 
 
 Unto that pain of which men die. 
 
 But, ere their last distress, appeared 
 
 A leafy shrub, upbearing food 
 
 For all the hungry multitude, 
 
 Who saw the miracle and feared. 
 
 Again they prospered and forgot 
 The fearful warning of the rot, 
 And scarce a knee in reverence bent 
 In any isle or continent; 
 And mammon ruled, and wickedness 
 Made hideous life and unclean hand, 
 And through the fields of sea-washed 
 
 land 
 No resting-place had righteousness. 
 The prophet came again to preach, 
 Again the people could but hear, 
 But empty was the public ear 
 As soon as he had ceased to teach. 
 Then suddenly a foul disease 
 Swept o'er the living to the seas, 
 And humbled was the people's pride, 
 And nations wept, for many died. 
 
 But when again the prophet came, 
 To speak of righteous punishment, 
 
OR HERE. 79 
 
 The heart was hardened where he went, 
 For men would shift the common blame ; 
 Then, following*, the rabble cried, 
 And stoned him till he fell and died. 
 And then they said, "There is an end 
 Ot breaking in upon our ease, 
 And bringing famine, and disease, 
 And stirring up the people's fears, 
 By teaching them to turn and mend, 
 Before a drouth of forty years." 
 But, lo! the noonday sun stood still; 
 The dews of evening fell no more; 
 The ocean clouds refused to fill 
 Their aprons for the thirsty shore; 
 And there was never any sleep; 
 And neither was there birth, nor death; 
 But he who labored still must reap 
 Unfinished fields, in oven-breath; 
 And nature changed no more her face 
 Than does a landscape set in paint; 
 And beast and bird lost not their place, 
 Because of death, in all that faint. 
 
 Down in the midst of human toil, 
 Within a valley, by a wood, 
 I stepped upon the desert soil, 
 And through a flight of moments stood I 
 To mark the world whose myriad mouth 
 
80 BEYOND 
 
 Moaned out the misery of drouth. 
 The sun was hung at changeless noon, 
 And through the brazen atmosphere, 
 Above the all-pervading swoon, 
 Sent down repeated waves of fire, 
 Which danced along the line of hills, 
 And sucked for moisture in the mire, 
 Where loaves were baked, unground by 
 
 mills. 
 The grass about me, harsh and dry, 
 For many a year had drank no sup, 
 And every thirsty blossom-cup 
 AVas filled with dust, but could not die; 
 And where the brook had bathed their 
 
 feet, 
 And sung its staves of changing tones, 
 Was but a winding path of stones, 
 As dusty as a summer street; 
 And in the woods the faded leaves 
 Were sapless as a shock of sheaves, 
 For all the veins of life were shrunk, 
 And long since empty in the trunk; 
 The birds had lost their vocal powers, 
 Save those that by the curse must sing, 
 And panting hid in tattered bowers, 
 From which came never willing wing; 
 The wildest beasts were not afraid, 
 But with their bloodshot eyes they 
 
OR HERE. 81 
 
 stared, 
 And fought their battles for a shade, 
 In which the panting victors glared. 
 And like a weather-beaten house 
 Long standing in a field of weeds, 
 Deserted save by slug or mouse, 
 Where reckless time has sown its seed?* 
 And reaped a harvest year by year, 
 80 seemed the weather-beaten sphere. 
 
 I wandered through a lifeless grove, 
 Up through a farmer's dusty lane, 
 Where once a 5eld of corn had throve, 
 But at the budding of the ears 
 It now reached down its roots in vain. 
 Herein two weary men had toiled 
 The fruitless round of many years, 
 And they were dark with soot and 
 
 soiled, 
 With faces pitiful to see. 
 They had not worked unceasingly, 
 But with the pause distracting pain 
 Came on them till they worked again. 
 
 I stood beside a hollow trunk 
 That flung its shade across the lane, 
 And heard the elder speak in pain 
 Of that dark deed from which he 
 
82 BEYOND 
 
 shrunk 
 As he recalled the dying groans 
 Of him who had been stoned with 
 
 stones. 
 Whereat the younger urged him still, 
 And asked if he had thought him then 
 One greater than a mob could kill- 
 One greater than a man of men. 
 He said, "I heard him preach that clay 
 On which the rabble did the deed, 
 I heard him prophecy and pray, 
 And tell us of our common need, 
 And with the word, and all I saw, 
 I was but moved— I found no flaw. 
 But when he prophecied of drouth, 
 Itecalling famine and disease, 
 The people fell upon their knees 
 As if they fain would supplicate, 
 But murmured with concerted mouth, 
 And one could see the tide of hate, 
 For they would let him speak no more, 
 But growing bold o'ercarne his tones, 
 Until he passed out through the door, 
 And then they struck him down with 
 
 stones." 
 
 "O, father, terrible is this! 
 To labor through the changeless years, 
 
OR HERE. 83 
 
 And taste the constant brine of tears 
 
 Which never have been shed amiss; 
 
 To weary be and find no rest; 
 
 To pass the hours of night at noon ; 
 
 To feel the grave to be a boon 
 
 By which we may not yet be blest. 
 
 But dost thou think that when the curse 
 
 Is lifted from this weary world, 
 
 And d^ath shall soothe us like a nurse, 
 
 We shall to direr woes be hurled ?" 
 
 "I know not what for us may wait 
 In that as yet uncertain land 
 To which we enter by the gate 
 That men call death, but this I know 
 T le loosened soul will gladly go 
 When it receives the last command; 
 For through these years of punishment 
 We do but suffer and repent 
 To find a springing hope of heaven; 
 And he who smote us does forgive; 
 For did he not once send the food 
 To the repentant multitude 
 That they might take and eat and live ? 
 There is a boundary between 
 The realms of justice and revenge, 
 Put thou thy trust in Him whose range 
 Is infinite, whose sense is keen." 
 
84 BEYOND 
 
 "Oh, father, do not bid me trust, 
 For 1 am weary unto death; 
 I only toil because I must, 
 I only breathe unwilling breath! 
 No day, no evening, and no night! 
 No moment but this furnace-noon 
 In wnich we labor to the swoon, 
 Beneath a constant storm of light; 
 No clouds are in the changeless sky; 
 No rain to cleanse the air of dust; 
 The look is sorrow to the eye; 
 I only live because 1 must 
 And living on from year to year, 
 We know not season, month, or day, 
 If rest for us be far away 
 We know not that, or be it near." 
 Now came upon them sudden pain, 
 For that forbidden line was crossed, 
 They moved away in labor's strain, 
 Until their scattered words were lost. 
 I watched them through the dusty cloud 
 Which ever wove their living shroud, 
 Then turned away as to depart, 
 But looked again with heavy heart. 
 
 Within a once delightful grove, 
 As 1 approached a village near, 
 I heard melodious strains which strove 
 
OR HERE. 85 
 
 Across the hot fields to mine ear; 
 And then one voice with varying range 
 Called out the dancer's measured 
 
 change; 
 And I could hear the noise between 
 Of feet upon the sounding floor, 
 And through the tattered leafy screen 
 Catch sight of dancers, four and four. 
 And as I passed the open gate 
 I saw a man who writhed in pain, 
 Without the bower's close domain, 
 For he had matched himself with fate 
 With purpose not to dance again; 
 And as he lay among the leaves 
 And clutched his flesh in misery, 
 It w T as a piteous sight to see, 
 From which one turnsaway and grieves ; 
 And many a dancer sadly turned 
 Upon him who defied the curse, 
 Because he made his lot the worse, 
 And this was useless they had learned; 
 And often as they passed me by 
 I heard them say with saddened voice, 
 "He soon must yield; he has no choice; 
 He suffers death, but cannot die." 
 
 The bower was in a sunless nook 
 Where once perhaps the hermit thrush 
 
86 BEYOND 
 
 Had built her careful nest and sung, 
 And round it was a wall of brush, 
 On which the tattered leaves still clung, 
 And in the heated bretzes shook. 
 Within this wall a single seat 
 Reached round the level dancing-floor, 
 Where many sat with weary feet, 
 Until their pains forbid them more. 
 Upon the farther side a band 
 Of dark musicians idly played, 
 The bow seemed weary in the hand 
 And often into discord strayed; 
 And never yet upon a floor 
 Was such confusion seen before; 
 For some went round in reeling waltz, 
 And some were shuffling noisy feet, 
 And some, in sets, where couples meet 
 Went back and forth, in changes false. 
 But through the labor and the close 
 Of that unloved and lifeless dance, 
 No maiden smiled to galant's glance, 
 No bosom with emotion rose. 
 
 When, gazing, i had weary grown, 
 And was returning to the street, 
 I heard a cry as if of pain, 
 And turning where the man had lain 
 Among the leaves, with sobbing moan, 
 
OR HERE. 87 
 
 I saw him struggle to his feet, 
 And hurry to the dancing floor, 
 To which 1 watched him till he whirled 
 Out through the dance which round 
 
 him curled, 
 And then I turned, and looked no more 
 
 Now wandering down the village 
 street 
 I marked the teams that toiling went, 
 In dust that hid them like a tent, 
 Where forms were shadows over feet; 
 The wanes protested far away, 
 From noisy hub or loosened tire, 
 That knew no other food or fire 
 Than grit of dirt and blaze of day; 
 And every plant and leaf and fruit 
 Had hid its color in the dust, 
 Till all beneath the growing rust 
 Was common as a miller's suit; 
 And in the gardens where had grown 
 The blossoms of a hundred hues, 
 Was but the sameness that was shown 
 On every hand, for dust was dews. 
 But what I saw of toil and woe 
 Within that village as I passed, 
 'Twere better that no man should know 
 Because its memory would last. 
 
88 BEYOND 
 
 PART FIFTH. 
 
 THE OLD AND THE NEW. 
 
 As one who sadly turns to roam 
 Out from a dwelling, not a home— 
 Because in it is discontent 
 (Life's eating misery, whose breath 
 Is ever held to welcome death, 
 If painlessly it may be sent) 
 But knowing this, and looking back, 
 He says there should be happiness, 
 A tideless joy instead of this— 
 Instead of night so cold and black; 
 So turned, I with such thoughts as these, 
 As out from Mercury 1 went, 
 Upon that car which had been sent 
 To bear me over ether seas. 
 
 Dark Vulcan lay upon our route, 
 Ttoat barren and mysterious shore 
 Which men would ever name with 
 
 doubt 
 And naming it would say no more. 
 Here life was in its glorious prime 
 Ere Adam oped his wondering eyes 
 Upon the bloom of Paradise 
 
OR HERE. 89 
 
 And breathed the scent of rose and 
 
 thyme; 
 And ere the Christ of Galilee 
 Had done his miracles on Earth, 
 Upon this planet death and birth 
 Were finished, and had ceased to be; 
 For empty were the mighty seas, 
 And every busy stream ran dry, 
 The atmosphere was in its lees, 
 Xo cloud inhabited the sky; 
 And every green thing drooped and 
 
 died, 
 And fell upon a blackened crust, 
 To mingle with the common dust 
 That once was man or else his pride. 
 
 So idly wheeled this empty sphere, 
 Where human works were but a scar 
 Upon a surface without cheer, 
 When passing, our aerial car 
 Came hither for a little space, 
 To seek an ancient resting place. 
 We touched the desert of that world 
 Where once the great metropolis 
 Had breathed the fragrance of her bliss, 
 And waved her banners, quickly furled. 
 
 We who within had journeyed here 
 
90 BEYOND 
 
 Stepped down upon the dusty sphere, 
 To walk with wonder and with awe, 
 Up through the streets which long ago 
 Had reared aloft laborious show 
 Which time had scythed to stubble- 
 straw. 
 We reached the summit of a hill, 
 Where once the capitol, no doubt, 
 Of some great empire, laid its sill, 
 Within the vacant square about; 
 But centuries before, the last 
 Of all the marble in that wall 
 Had tumbled, with defacing fall, 
 Upon the rubbish of the past. 
 Here lay the columns that had stood 
 Within the lofty portico, 
 All crushed like stems of hollow wood, 
 And scattered in a fenceless row; 
 And many a window stone embossed, 
 And every slab of ornament, 
 Had crumbled in the great descent, 
 Until its wealth was all but lost. 
 Within the basement was bebris 
 Of what had been the lofty dome, 
 Whose gilded hight the eye could see, 
 In better days, from many a home. 
 But they who once had trod the floor, 
 And in these marble halls had name, 
 
OR HERE. 91 
 
 And spoke their fine orations o'er, 
 To party praise, or jealous blame, 
 Had gone, and left their splendid halls 
 To eating time, and bruising falls. 
 
 We passed within the ancient mart, 
 By fountain basins, strangely wrought, 
 Where ample aqueducts had brought 
 The crystal waters from the heart 
 Of distant mountains whose sure 
 
 streams 
 Came cool and sweet from rocky seams. 
 Here many a building, made of stone, 
 Of wood, of marble, or of brick, 
 On which were letters all unknown, 
 How storied high, how wisely thick, 
 We might not know save by the squares 
 Of rubbish mingling their snares. 
 Perchance within these ruined walls 
 The tradesman, with habitual pains, 
 Had daily counted o'er his gains, 
 To hoard them in his cellar stalls; 
 And here a theatre, perchance, 
 Once flung ajar its nightly door, 
 Where people breathed as in a trance, 
 To see their daily lives played o'er; 
 This splendid wreck of stone and glass 
 May once haye been a house of prayer, 
 
92 BEYOND 
 
 That yonder where we soon must pass 
 
 A rival or a sister fair. 
 
 But gone were they who toiled and 
 
 laughed, 
 We found their footprints on the sand, 
 We saw the ruins of their craft, 
 And walked along a world unmanned. 
 
 Upon a distant slope with mounds 
 I saw great rows of bleaching stone, 
 To which I wandered out alone, 
 And found the city's burial grounds. 
 But not as when the living kept 
 The sacred chambers of the dead. 
 Neglect had hid the words that said 
 The names of those whose bodies slept; 
 The fallen slabs unlifted lay 
 Above the sink of many a grave, 
 The coatings that the centuries gave 
 No careful hand had wiped away; 
 And stone from stone each monument 
 Lay prone upon the blackened crust, 
 Neglectful of the tirst intent 
 Which reared it o'er the buried dust. 
 
 And as I looked I seemed to see 
 The funeral train of long ago, 
 With measured step, and passage slow, 
 
OR HERE. 93 
 
 Seek out the prison of this lea, 
 And one by one place in their cells 
 The forms of which the marble tells. 
 But when the great catastrophe 
 Swept o'er the land and drunk the sea 
 They quickly came and quickly went, 
 Through all that night of punishment, 
 Until the last man turned and wept, 
 Above, the last mound that could be, 
 Then fainting in his misery, 
 Within a roofless chamber slept. 
 
 And as I wandered through the ground, 
 And sought the name and readless 
 
 rhyme, 
 Full many a token still I found 
 That had escaped the wreck of time. 
 Upon a slab, the road-way nigh, 
 Which lay upon the sooty sand, 
 Two palms were clasped to say good-by, 
 Or else the living still would hold 
 For ever more some faithful hand, 
 Forgetful that it now was cold; 
 It showed me customs that had been, 
 Where hands were servants of the heart, 
 That they who had been long apart, 
 Held touch till they could meet again. 
 
 A monument not far aw r ay 
 
94 BEYOND 
 
 Across its crumbled coping lay, 
 It seemed a faultless shaft of stone, 
 But broken, with its hight half shown— 
 As if some worthy man had died, 
 With half a useful life untried. 
 Upon its face a gloveless hand 
 Was reaching out a world's reprieve, 
 To which, as eager to receive, 
 Was pressing on a countless band. 
 And wondering still at last I went, 
 Xot knowing what the symbol meant; 
 Some statesman or philanthropist, 
 Whom all the common people missed, 
 Perhaps had left his body-dust 
 To mingle with this marble's rust. 
 
 Well back within the burial field 
 A greater work in ruins lay, 
 By which a fellow-traveler kneeled, 
 And seemed to weep, or else to pray. 
 Before him on the grassless ground 
 A fallen statue held a lyre, 
 On which the hand, as if for sound, 
 Reached out to many a perished wire; 
 But when I wandered near he turned 
 As one might turn from closet prayer, 
 Surprised, with features wrought with 
 care, 
 
OR HERE. 95 
 
 To know his secret had been learned; 
 Hut when I fain had turned away, 
 He rose and beckoned, saying, "Come, 
 This is the closet of my clay; 
 I kneeled above my wasted home." 
 Then looking long at him I asked, 
 If he upon this sphere had dwelt, 
 When fields had bloom, and turf had felt, 
 And people wore the body-mask. 
 He answered, pointing with his hand, 
 Where in the trough of sinking sand 
 The marble statue fall lay, 
 "Here is the closet of my clay; 
 I visit this my mournful home, 
 And from the pleiades I come." 
 "And wert thou to thy vanished race 
 What this bruised marble emblem 
 
 meant 
 When standing in its lofty place 
 It seemed to touch the chords long 
 
 spent;" 
 From this he turned and then replied, 
 "I lived, I touched the chords, and died; 
 Be this thy answer, this marred lyre, 
 This pile of marble that you see, 
 Upbuilded by a wide desire, 
 To mark the dust once borne by me." 
 Upon a block of ample girth 
 
96 BEYOND 
 
 I saw thick names writ on the side, 
 Of those who fashioned, when he died, 
 This monument to mark his worth; 
 'And round about was many a vase, 
 Half hid in dust and strangely wrought, 
 Where once the schools of people 
 
 brought 
 Bloom tribute to his resting-place. 
 "Then why wertthou with fallen eyes? 
 These tokens to thy spirit tell 
 That they who followed loved the well, 
 And worshiped where thy body lies." 
 "But I am sad to see the sphere 
 That was of old so full of moods, 
 A grassless grave of what was here, 
 Drunk of its streams, and shorn of 
 
 woods; 
 The flower is gone, the bird is dead, 
 And gone the bough on which it sung, 
 The very odors that were hung 
 Above the green fields now are fled. 
 I came in memory of the clay 
 I bore among my fellow-men, 
 I see the wrecks and turn away, 
 And do not care to come again." 
 
 Since he was so I too grew sad, 
 Then slowly toward the car we walked, 
 
OR HERE. 97 
 
 Across the black fields, once so glad, 
 And as we journeyed on we talked, 
 He like a guide who goes before, 
 To traveler in an unknown land, 
 And pointing with a willing hand, 
 To things of eld, he named them o'er; 
 And doing this he seemed to lose 
 The sadness that had marred his tones, 
 For every ruined square of stores 
 Had memories from which to choose. 
 
 As one outstepping from a vault 
 May feel his spirits long at fault, 
 So out from gloomy Vulcan's shore 
 Were we some moments and no more. 
 Our course was through the shining 
 
 field 
 Where hangs the ever glorious Sun, 
 To Jupiter that younger one 
 On which no human knee hath kneeled. 
 
 As we proceeded now we rode 
 Through prismy mists and vapors 
 
 bright, 
 Neath which a sea of gorgeous light 
 In thicker vapors ebbed and flowed. 
 Great waves of flame dashed through 
 
 the air, 
 
98 BEYOND 
 
 And flung on high their leagues of spray, 
 Which spattered all the misty gray 
 "With beauty, many hued and rare; 
 And then some arm of crimson light 
 Would reach its vast proportions out, 
 And sweep the miracle from sight, 
 And wave flame-banners round about. 
 Beneath the vapors we could see 
 Great yawning caverns where a world 
 To dark oblivian might be hurled, 
 And feed the fire's intensity. 
 And island colors, dark aud light, 
 Were floating on the brazen flood, 
 And flaring candle-flames did stud 
 These color-islands with their light. 
 
 Less swiftly through this field we went 
 That we might see each mighty change 
 Which stirred the flood, and raging spent 
 Its fury in the visions range. 
 Here twisting winds made waterspouts, 
 Where league on league the upright 
 
 flames 
 Pursued the spiral of their routes 
 Then spread in splendors without names; 
 And there some mighty column burst 
 And stormed its glory on the sea, 
 Which clapped its flamy hands in glee, 
 
. OR HERE. 99 
 
 Then rolled triumphant as at first; 
 And out from dim uncertain ground 
 Bright streams of wonder swiftly 
 
 flowed, 
 Until commingling they glowed 
 Like all the molten spread around. 
 Oh change on change divine! perchance 
 A hurricane would pass our car, 
 And rave and lash a wild advance, 
 Dragging its fury from afar; 
 Or else its wind-made water-wheels 
 Would whirl on high their dripping 
 
 fans, 
 And sprinkle all the misty fields 
 With glittering beads and burning 
 
 sands; 
 But through the silence and the hush, 
 Of that divine, o'erpowering sight, 
 No word was spoken, and no gush 
 Of empty whispers marred delight. 
 At last the eye was satisfied, 
 And like a child that long has tried 
 The charm of his kaleidoscope, 
 We put it from us, while the car 
 Shot forward to that mighty star 
 To which we looked with eagei hope. 
 
 There is a placid little bay, 
 
100 BEYOND 
 
 Scarce bigger than a human hand, 
 
 Where Jupiter in early day 
 
 First called the waters from the land; 
 
 Unto the dark and ancient shore 
 
 That dips and dalleys to the edge 
 
 Of this warm bay, with many a ledge, 
 
 Oar noiseless car its burden bore. 
 
 Upon a path unused by feet. 
 
 Which slanted like a mountain road, 
 
 Down where the land and water meet, 
 
 Upon the virgin soil I trode. 
 
 The air was hot and full of smoke, 
 
 And all the landscape veiled and dun, 
 
 Through whose thick haze no sunlight 
 
 broke, 
 For only painted seemed the sun; 
 And every breath was filled with scent 
 Of vegetation growing rank, 
 From far fields where no blossom bent, 
 And forests where no sunlight drank; 
 Along the damp and miry beach 
 Great rows of seaweeds rose and fell, 
 And one could see their fingers reach 
 Up through each slow incoming swell. 
 Up'- i n the right a mountain ridge, 
 Hid all that portion of the sky, 
 Along whose roof-like top tbe light 
 Of many colored flames shot high; 
 
OR HERE. 101 
 
 Upon the left great sappy trees 
 Were crowded to the watery shore, 
 Their neighbors hid in misty seas 
 From which tne sight could learn no 
 
 more; 
 And all about were flag and fern, 
 And rushes standing like a tree, 
 In whose dark tangle one could see 
 No flitting bird, no blossom burn. 
 
 The while I gazed my Yulcan friend 
 Approached the slope on which I stood, 
 He glanced in turn upon the wood 
 And that high ridge which seemed to 
 
 send 
 A greeting gush of green and red 
 As he outstretched his hand and said, 
 "This does not seem to be the same 
 That I beheld when first I came." 
 And then I learned that in the past, 
 Before that mountain reared its brow, 
 Before this forest dark and vast, 
 Had root, he came as 1 came now. 
 This slope was then a muddy flat; 
 Where yonder grows those mighty trees, 
 Pale moss and paler lichens sat, 
 Forever sprayed by heated seas; 
 And over all the atmosphere 
 
102 BEYOND 
 
 Shut closer down, on ields more drear, 
 In which the dim discolored sun 
 Had its round outlines scarce begun. 
 
 Out through the noon of twilight day 
 We saw great fish upon the bay, 
 Leap forth, pursuing or pursued, 
 And blood from many a fight unviewed 
 Made pools of crimson in the gray; 
 And there were dorsal fins and heads 
 Asleep upon the lazy tide, 
 And shapes,with paddles reaching wide, 
 Moved slow, or slept in miry beds. 
 Aerial reptiles, vile and black, 
 Made shadows like a passing cloud. 
 Through foggy leagues their screams 
 
 were loud, 
 And caverns sent their answers back; 
 And now and then a dragon flew 
 From ca\e to cave along the shore, 
 Or from some jungle, wet with dew, 
 Thrust out its head, then was no more. 
 
 Upon the cliffy mountain side, 
 Where many midnight caverns hide, 
 I saw a single giant bat, 
 That slumbered as at watch he sat; 
 And while 1 looked, a monster vile 
 
OR HERE. 103 
 
 (In shape and shell a crocodile, 
 Which long had seemed to be asleep, 
 With half its body in the deep,) 
 Raised higher his protruding head 
 And looked about, then o'er the beach 
 Crawled slowly up, with stealthy reach, 
 Dragging his body from its bed; 
 But when :he interval was passed, 
 Between the water and the perch, 
 I saw that with a thrust and lurch 
 He compassed it, and held him fast; 
 Then screamed the victim hoarse and 
 
 long, 
 And every neighboring rocky cave 
 About that perch its answer gave, 
 And huge bats gathered in a throng; 
 They circled round, some lighting near, 
 While others made a bold attack 
 At barrel eye, or scaly back, 
 Until he shrunk in pain and fear, 
 Adown into his watery bed, 
 Streaking the flood around with red. 
 
 My comrade plucked me by the sleave, 
 And turned and spoke, when this was 
 
 done, 
 "Life's drama here has just begun; 
 Man has no part; come, let us leave." 
 
104 
 
 BEYOND 
 
 And as we wandered slowly back 
 I could but wonder what would be; 
 Would sturdy races, white or black, 
 Build on these hills, and tame this sea? 
 Or was this great world framed and set 
 For purposes I knew not yet? 
 Of one thing I was satisfied, 
 This princely planet incomplete, 
 Was like the ones where men had died, 
 Before prepared for human feet. 
 
OR HERE. 105 
 
 PART SIXTH. 
 
 LOYER'S LAMP. 
 
 Nay, tell me not, with bated breath, 
 There is no house unknown to death; 
 There is a planet on whose side 
 Man long hath lived, but never died. 
 The living live without disease, 
 The dying sleep without decay, 
 The sleeping wake again to day 
 In lands still washed by native seas. 
 To Venus the divinest star 
 We guide the palace of our car. 
 
 Twas morning when we neared the 
 shore 
 Of that near-neighbor world of old, 
 Alighting on the leafy floor 
 Of some dark forest, thick with mould. 
 Before, as far as eye could see, 
 A winding valley, dug by time, 
 Whose scenes no doubt were called sub- 
 lime, 
 Lay deep as an unfathomed sea; 
 And o'er the green uneaven sweep 
 Of forest stretching far away, 
 
106 BEYOND 
 
 Were silences and twilight gray 
 As if the world was yet asleep. 
 
 Into this solemn wilderness 
 I walked and wandered to explore, 
 But found no path from its recess, 
 ISo foot-marks on the leafy floor; 
 The trees were maples spiced with 
 
 beech, 
 And some unknown but like the oak, 
 And evergreens made endless reach 
 Where in the wood the valley broke; 
 I saw some stalks of columbine, 
 And some strange plants I did not know, 
 And many a violet and vine 
 That in the old world used to grow; 
 Among the tre tops squirrels played, 
 And birds went by on pigeon wing, 
 And as I passed a leafy glade, 
 A thrush struck up as if to sing; 
 And if I walked or if I stood 
 I felt the spirit of the wood. 
 
 At last 1 saw a lily flower, 
 As red as any poppy bloom, 
 Where sunlight slanted to a bower, 
 As open as a roofless room. 
 About was many a whip-like shoot 
 
OR HERE. 107 
 
 That round the secret nook took root, 
 As if to hide, in leafy screen, 
 The chamber of some woodland queen. 
 I turned aside and crowded through 
 This growth, still wet with rain or dew, 
 And, lo! a mother and her child 
 Here lay as if they were asleep, 
 The youngster to the mother smiled, 
 The mother seemed as if to weep; 
 And o'er their faces, like the dead, 
 That crimson lily hung its head. 
 13ut one could s ,e that they had slept 
 A changeless sleep, perchance for years, 
 For o'er their bodies vines had crept, 
 And sapless grasses leaned their spears. 
 1 marked that twixt their persons grew 
 A tuft of vetch with blossoms blue, 
 And climbing swings about them clung 
 In which a child had never swung. 
 A shoe was wanting and a hat, 
 By this I knew that they were lost, 
 Before they sunk upon this plat, 
 Which grape and creeper since had 
 crossed. 
 
 Not soon deciding what to do. 
 And while beside the two I stood, 
 I saw, approaching through the wood, 
 
108 BEYOND 
 
 A man who bore that hat and shoe. 
 His thoughts seemed mostly on the 
 
 ground, 
 But he would often turn these o'er, 
 And look, and look, and turn once more, 
 As if they were but lately found; 
 And then [ fancied that a light 
 (Almost a smile) would flash across 
 His features, stricken as by blight, 
 Or darkened as by years of loss; 
 And with each pause he seemed to gain 
 New courage and new strength from 
 
 these, 
 As one who turns from thoughts that 
 
 please 
 To labor that had else been pain. 
 As he approached the little bower 
 I stepped behind a growth of birch, 
 Then breaking from his patient search 
 He came abruptly toward that flower. 
 Now could I see keen hope and fear 
 Upon his face, as he drew near, 
 And, as a child to nest he feared, 
 Within the little open peered; 
 He looked, he flushed, then looked again ; 
 He looked at both, and noticed all; 
 And then I thought that he would fall 
 Outcoming from his years of pain. 
 
OR HERE. 109 
 
 With careful arms the growth he 
 
 pressed 
 And stepped upon the plat of land, 
 Then kneeled and took the woman's 
 
 hand, 
 Which lay all white upon her breast, 
 A moment held it in his own 
 (I turned away and did not hear 
 The words he whispered at her ear, 
 Or see him touch that cheek of stone ) 
 But when I looked again she stirred, 
 And life was rolling neath each lid, 
 As when a sleeper hears a word 
 Whose meaning to the sense is hid; 
 And then he called her wife, and cried, 
 "Awake, awake, for I am come!" 
 At which she sat up open-eyed, 
 And looked at him no longer dumb; 
 And then he woke the sleeping child— 
 I heard no words, nor saw his charms, 
 But three were one in folding arms, 
 The older wept, the younger smiled. 
 
 1 saw approaching through the trees, 
 My Yulcan friend, and straightway 
 
 went 
 Out from this little sunlit dent 
 To tell him of the joy of these; 
 
110 BEYOND 
 
 -But looking back I saw him lead 
 
 The mother from that sluggish bower; 
 
 She leaning on him in her need, 
 
 The boy held high, now with his flower. 
 
 We watched them down a doorless hall, 
 
 Where green boughs bent and blossoms 
 
 grew, 
 Until they disap peared from view, 
 Then followed, but I know not why, 
 Perhaps we caught a glimpse of sky, 
 Or heard afar some human call. 
 
 At last a wood-surrounded lake, 
 In quiet beauty met our eyes; 
 Its level waters seemed to m.ike 
 Partition glass between two skies, 
 Dividing sun, and cloud, and blue, 
 From that within its d lily view. 
 Midway between the leafy shores 
 I marked a boat, with idle oars, 
 In which a single diver stood, 
 Then disappeared within the flood. 
 We looked into each others eyes, 
 Then heard a bird cry loud and long, 
 And wander through a brace of song, 
 Before we saw the diver rise. 
 We marked him clamber in the boat, 
 And dash the water from his eyes, 
 
OR HERE. 1 1 1 
 
 And breathe the breath of swimmer's 
 
 sighs, 
 Then leave again his dancing float. 
 At this my comrade spoke and said, 
 "Hast thou yet heard of him and this? 
 He once had love and happiness, 
 But in a great catastrophe 
 His lady sunk beneath this sea, 
 And joined the planet's sleeping dead, 
 It is to rescue her he tries." 
 And while we looked out through the 
 
 trees, 
 And saw his waves bell-out aud fall, 
 I asked that he would tell me all 
 That he had heard concerning these. 
 
 "Some years ago (and long it seems 
 No doubt to him whose lady dreams), 
 Two pleasure boats were wont to play 
 Upon the waters of this lake, 
 And neighboring towns were free to 
 
 make 
 Excursions many a holiday; 
 On one of these excursions came 
 Two lovers, fair to look upon, 
 Save that the maid was somewhat wan, 
 And speechless often as a dame — 
 For she had dreamed, three nights and 
 
112 BEYOND 
 
 - more, 
 Of great disaster on this day, 
 And that upon the watery floor 
 Of this fair lake she long would lay; 
 Bat every morning when she woke 
 She put it from her without worth, 
 Nor of it to her lover spoke, 
 Though now it weighed upon her mirth. 
 But he all day with lover's wiles 
 Had tried to win her to herself, 
 And led through bowers and forest 
 
 aisles, 
 Where nightly dance the woodland elf, 
 And spirits linger all the day 
 To steal the thoughts of care away. 
 
 "But many a time she sighed in smile, 
 And once she raised her eyes and said, 
 'If I were gone a long, long while, 
 Would you forget me, love, and wed 
 Some maiden comlier than I? 
 (I being gone; she being nigh). 
 But with a word he parried this, 
 Because it hurt to have her doubt 
 His constancy, and more breathe out 
 The fears he knew to be amiss: 
 But still she spoke again and said, 
 'Maidens are fair, and men forget!' 
 
OR HERE. 113 
 
 To which he said, 'Xo maiden yet 
 Has e'er forgotten she is fair!' 
 Then when her cheeks grew rosy red 
 He kissed one blossom of the pair. 
 
 "At last they sought the wooden pier 
 Where neighbors gathered to embark. 
 And tfren came back her vision dark 
 To w T ake her half-forgotten fear. 
 At this she said, 'I must not go, 
 I had a dream— I dare not; no!' 
 And then her young associates 
 Came round her in an eager throng, 
 And bore her in their midst along, 
 Less merry than her merry mates. 
 
 "Soft was the air, and clear the day, 
 The lake was level as a glass, 
 And on the steamers bunting gay 
 Was twined and looped in many a mass; 
 Along the shore the double bank 
 Held trees that made a double rank, 
 Aud those who cast below their* eyes 
 Saw that they swam between two skies. 
 But there was rivalry between 
 The steamers, and they tried their speed, 
 And 'kerchiefs waved, and voices 
 cheered, 
 
114 BEYOND 
 
 Till one in turning falsely steered 
 (Men said the helmsman lost control) 
 And struck the other, like a steed 
 That blindly wheels about a goal; 
 Then, while the people screamed of 
 
 fright, 
 The steamer filled and passed from sight 
 
 "Of those who sank upon that day 
 But one has never yet been found, 
 She sleeps her sleep on unknown ground, 
 On rocky bed or weedy clay ; 
 But they who searched, searched long 
 
 and well, 
 Nor would they giye their 1-bors o'er 
 Till thrice they hunted all that fl >or 
 And dragged in every shelly dell. 
 But still her faithful lover strives; 
 From sun to rising sun he weeps, 
 From sun to setting sun he dives, 
 Nor breaks the vigil that he keeps." 
 
 The while my comrade spoke we saw 
 The swimmer striking toward the shore, 
 Some burden in his grasp he bore, 
 As one a heavy weight would draw. 
 And while we looked our hearts stood 
 
 still; 
 \Ve saw the form he strove to save, 
 
OR HERE. 115 
 
 For when he reached the shallows near, 
 He raised it from its watery grave, 
 And bore it dripping with the wave, 
 Up o'er a slope that once was sheer, 
 And layecl it on a sun-warm hill. 
 We saw him kneel, and heard him call 
 A name that made melodious sound. 
 To which she ro^e up pale and tall, 
 And with bewildered look gazed round; 
 And as the sleepers of the night 
 Know not the hours at which they wake, 
 So neither knew she, but in fright 
 Turned from the memory of the lake; 
 Then like two bathers, hand in hand, 
 That hurry from a ghastly shore, 
 Where waves fling w r reeks upon the 
 
 sand, 
 They hurried and were seen no more. 
 
 Beyond the lake we soon approached 
 A plain on which the wood encroached, 
 Whereon a city, large and fair, 
 Showed guardian spires and- portly 
 
 domes, 
 Far flanked by park and leafy squares, 
 In which were roofs of countless homes. 
 Between the city and the wood 
 Were level fields of sodded grass, 
 
116 BEYOND 
 
 In one of which great buildings stood, 
 With banners gay,and bright with glass. 
 And every neighboring public way 
 Its share of people seemed to yield, 
 As it some cherished holiday 
 Brought out the city to the field; 
 Then through a lane of peaceful shade 
 We neared and learned a famous show 
 Was being held from day to day, 
 Where all who came might see and 
 
 know 
 The progress that the world had made. 
 
 And so we passed a Gothic door, 
 Which led to one of these apart, 
 And found a gallery of art, 
 With paintings thick from arch to floor. 
 Awhile we stood and looked at these— 
 A bust was here, a full form there, 
 Some landscape beautiful with trees, 
 A wrecking storm on tossing seas, 
 With sea-gulls tilted in the air; 
 And ships that leaned before the gale, 
 But moved n3t heavy hulk nor sail. 
 
 As stranger bird in stranger room, 
 That flits, and lights, and flits agaio, 
 {So went the eye from glare to gloom, 
 
OR HERE. 117 
 
 O'er needy works of common men, 
 Until, returning when it passed, 
 It settled on its own at last. 
 And as I looked I seemed to read 
 A chapter from their history, 
 Condensed and beautified for me, 
 And all who would but give it heed. 
 Upon a level stretch of sand, 
 With desolation scarce unchanged, 
 Two steeds were lying close at hand, 
 With costly trappings disarranged; 
 Between them leaned a fallen knight, 
 His helmet takea from his head, 
 The scales upon his armor bright 
 Were torn away and stained with red: 
 Beside him there? lady kneeled 
 Who seemed just stretching forth her 
 
 hand 
 To wake him on this foreign field, 
 And lead him to his native land. 
 Long looking I forgot all things, 
 Its meaning slowly dawned on me, 
 And even how, on memory's wings, 
 My eyes beneath it rise to see;" 
 But saddened some I turned away, 
 For in that picture I beheld 
 Earth's wars and giant wrongs of old, 
 Whose victims came not back to day. 
 
118 BEYOND 
 
 Unto a largei hall we came, 
 Alive with birds and swimming fish, 
 And all that hun?ry eye could wish, 
 Or human tongue could hope to name. 
 Herein were rows on rows of squares, 
 In which were various groups of men, 
 Which showed the customs and the 
 
 wares 
 That on this planet once had been. 
 Their Adam of the ancient time, 
 Beside his Eve herein now stood, 
 A faultless man and womanhood, 
 But ripened from their glorious prim e 
 We heard them speak to those beside, 
 He telling often how it seemed 
 When first the sunlight ou him streamed 
 And he awoke to consciousness, 
 With man's full thought and power for 
 
 bliss, 
 With all of life as yet untried; 
 * The trees, the blossom and the bird, 
 All things he saw, the sounds he heard, 
 Had strange effect on ear and eye, 
 And pleased him, but he knew not why. 
 Then, turning to his modest wife, 
 He said that he remembered still, 
 When first he saw her through the dim 
 And flowery woodland, full of life, 
 
OR HERE. 119 
 
 Approaching slow and pausing nigh, 
 He thought his irnage from the rill 
 Had risen and had followed him. 
 
 Within a cheerless neighboring square 
 Sat sullenly their eldest son, 
 His manners showed he did not care 
 The world should know what he had 
 
 'done— 
 Perhaps he was another Cane, 
 Whose memory still to him was pain. 
 A shepherd's crook was in his hand, 
 To whijh he ieaned upon his seat, 
 And f"om his shoulders to his feet 
 Was many a rude and wooly band; 
 And just beside him, on the floor, 
 Lay shepherd dog and quiet sheep, 
 One dreaming of the upland shore, 
 The other imitating sleep; 
 And looking at the sire and son, 
 We thought from these that we had 
 
 learned 
 The wheels of progress must have 
 
 turned 
 All wrongly when they first begun; 
 Nor did we, as we passed along, 
 See equal of that noble pair, 
 With face as cheery, form as strong, 
 
120 BEYOND 
 
 For many a dark uneasy square; 
 But ere that lengthened row was passed 
 We reached the gladiator mould, 
 Where man was strong and woman cold, 
 And children showed a faultless cast; 
 Here rose physiques of matchless hights, 
 Surmounted by the faultless head, 
 And one of these I heard it said 
 Was victor of a hundred rights. 
 
 In passing on among these squares 
 We met a man bent down with years, 
 Or else he bore a load of cares 
 Whose burden made him fit for tears; 
 And while we gazed upon his plight 
 A youth came up with footsteps light, 
 And said, "Thy daughter who was 
 
 drowned 
 Desires thee; she has just been found." 
 He gazed a moment on the boy 
 As if he had not heard it all, 
 Then, with a sudden throb of joy, 
 He hurried from the crowded hall. 
 Then said my comrade unto me, 
 "Come let us follow where they go; 
 Perchance the rescued may be she 
 Of whom we do already know." 
 And so we passed out through the door, 
 
OR HERE. 121 
 
 And stood beneath the open sky, 
 And many a street that wandered by 
 We searched, but never saw them more. 
 
 At last we neared a wasting cot 
 That stood upon the city's bounds, 
 Where voices sang, we knew not what, 
 Save,that they made delightful sounds; 
 And many a neighbor came and went, 
 As we moved slowly up the way, 
 Who looked as if some glad event, 
 Had made him happy for a day; 
 We paused a moment near the door, 
 And saw the mother and the child 
 Whom I had seen that day before, 
 Asleep within the pathless wild; 
 And while we lingered we could hear 
 The hum of gladness that was there, 
 And when we were no longer near 
 Their voices followed on the air. 
 
122 BEYOND 
 
 PART SEVENTH. 
 
 THE CITY OF THE CLOUD. 
 
 As one who fares for bird or bloom, 
 In wooded waste or meadow-fields, 
 Until he sees the evening star— 
 The jewel ere mulatto gloom- 
 Then filled with memories homeward 
 
 wheels, 
 So we returned to find our car. 
 I learned that we would touch the shore 
 Of Flora as we outward went, 
 To which my Vulcan friend was bent, 
 And then would be with us no more. 
 He came and took the seat by me, 
 And mentioned that he now must go, 
 And then, as if I did not know 
 The home in which he socn would be, 
 He asked if I remembered yet, 
 When on the earth and day was set, 
 A group of stars o'er ether seas 
 That men had called the pleiades. 
 There in a quiet world he dwelt, 
 In scenes of which he now was fond, 
 And seldom went, or yearning felt 
 To see the vast untouched beyond; 
 
OR HERE. 123 
 
 And then inviting me to come- 
 When it would be permitted me, 
 To leave this younger system's sea, 
 And pay him visit at his home- 
 He pressed my hand and said farewell, 
 For we were now upon that shore 
 Where once in haste we touched before 
 Since first I followed out this bell. 
 As toward Uranus now the car 
 Shot forward through the fields afar 
 I felt the old earth-known regret 
 Because his face from mine was set. 
 
 The day was breaking in the sky 
 When first I gained observer's stand 
 Within that far and unknown land, 
 And looked about (I know not why, 
 But looking, half afraid was I). 
 Before me lay a rippled sea, 
 In which dark rocks half hid their forms, 
 Where many a ship, no doubt, in storms 
 Had come in haste and ceased to be. 
 I marked the changeless line of sand 
 Between the water and the beach, 
 From which abruptly rose the land 
 As distant as the eye could reach; 
 For inland, parallel to this, 
 Arose a solid wall of cloud, 
 
124 BEYOND 
 
 Whose right and left were hid in shroud, 
 And whose high tops was evenness; 
 Beyond this wall rose dome and spire, 
 As if this were a city's screen, 
 Whose many nights alone were seen, 
 They flashing with reflected fire; 
 Within that wall I saw a gate 
 Its arch was cloud-like, but ideal, 
 And through its long and open bars 
 Appeared the light of crowded stars, 
 Or sunlight golden through a grate; 
 Between the ocean and that wall 
 The space seemed common-place and 
 
 real, 
 A little valley stole awaj 7 , 
 On whose near slope a village lay, 
 But silence hovered o'er it all; 
 Behind the village and its trees, 
 Upon a hill, all terraced roimd, 
 I saw a lofty burial ground, 
 Whose monuments outnumbered ease. 
 
 And while I looked upon these things 
 I heard a noise that moved the earth, 
 As, haply, when a mountain springs 
 Above an ocean to its birth; 
 And underneath went many a thrill, 
 Before again the land stood still. 
 

 OR HERE. 125 
 
 Upon a cliff, beside tbe sea, 
 I saw the figure of a man, 
 Whose robes were beautiful and free, 
 And down upon his sandals ran; 
 With motionless uncovered head 
 He waited, doubtless, some command, 
 Whose whispers now were being said, 
 Then raised the sceptre in his hand, 
 And stretched it out above the deep, 
 Commanding those who were asleep, 
 As if he said come forth and stand; 
 And then he stretched it o'er the shore, 
 And bid the sleepers sleep no more. 
 
 Then suddenly there was a sound 
 Of shuffling underneath the ground, 
 The while a moaning seemed to be 
 Upon the deep and laboring sea, 
 And all the air grew dark as night, 
 And shivered as a man with fright; 
 And then I marked the distant blaze 
 Of that far city, past the wall, 
 The light therein was over all, 
 As if it had a noonday rays; 
 But while I looked the sun again 
 Came back upon the world of men. 
 
 Within the water I could see 
 
126 BEYOND 
 
 Strong swimmers striking 1 toward the 
 
 shore, 
 And in the shallows many more 
 Were walking with their bodies free, 
 Tnen clustering on the sandy beach 
 I saw their signs and heard their speech, 
 As if they were as yet in doubt, 
 Of what they heard and saw about; 
 At last a man w 7 hose head was white, 
 To whom I marked they came in tears, 
 Calmed down their voices and their 
 
 fears. 
 As parents calm their children's fright, 
 Then climbed the steep and rocky hill, 
 Where stood the sceptered being till; 
 Approaching near, as to the great, 
 He asked some question that was brief, 
 Whose answer seemed to give relief, 
 And lead his eyes to seek the gate; 
 And when he found it, and the wall, 
 He gazed awhile upon it all, 
 Then hurried downward to the shore, 
 While his companions crowded near, 
 And listened speechless and in fear, 
 To what he said, nor needed more 
 But followed up the rocky hight, 
 From which the w T onder was in sight. 
 
 I stood and watched tiiem as they 
 
OR HERE. 127 
 
 went, 
 Some hurried gladly o'er the steep, 
 Some seemed to linger, and to weep, 
 But all their steps were hither bent; 
 But ere the distant gate was neared 
 1 turned and crossed the narrow space, 
 And climbed the high and terraced 
 
 place, 
 And in their burial-ground appeared. 
 
 Upon this lately peopled hill 
 But few were they who lingered now, 
 And I could see them going still, 
 In many an eager group and pair. 
 Beyond the border of the field 
 A matron, with a lofty brow, 
 Before a monument was kneeled, 
 As if in sorrow, or at prayer; 
 But as I neared I saw she read 
 The record of the buried dead 
 In-written on this lofty stone, 
 And then not heeding me she said, 
 "They gave me grandure for my own, 
 But left me here to sleep alone." 
 And then I scanned the marble page, 
 And read her name, and saw her age, 
 And his whose wifely name she bore, 
 Imprinted there, with many a son, 
 
128 BEYOND 
 
 Nor age, nor death, nor one thing more 
 
 The record said of any one; 
 
 And when I asked her why she wept 
 
 Still grievingly she made rep y, 
 
 And said she knew not where they 
 
 slept, 
 Or why her body had been left, 
 Of all of its own kind bereft. 
 I said, "Perchance they did not die, 
 But in the twinkling of an eye 
 The final change to them had come." 
 To this she stood a moment dumb 
 And then she said, "If that were so 
 Then they would seek me here I know." 
 "Perhaps on foreign land or sea 
 They perished and are far from thee; 
 Come, let us journey toward the gate, 
 I doubt not we shall learn their fate." 
 
 A moment still she seemed to grieve, 
 Them glancing at the monument, 
 As if to take a final leave, 
 She turned away and with me went. 
 In silence for a while we walked, 
 She scarcely looking toward the wall, 
 As if her thoughts were centered all, 
 On those of whom she briefly talked; 
 By this I learned that ere she died 
 
OR HERE. 129 
 
 The sons, of whom she mostly thought, 
 To manhood's full estate were brought, 
 All worthy of a mother's pride. 
 
 As we approached a public park, 
 Within the \illage, where were trees, 
 And walks, and bowers, and seats of 
 
 ease, 
 The rrratron said she could but mark 
 On every hand was sign of change, 
 And this was wholly new and strange. 
 The while we looked I saw a man 
 Approaching from the farther side, 
 And while she look she spoke and ran, 
 All open-armed and open-eyed, 
 And meeting him, their joy or grief 
 Seemed tongueless to its ow T n relief. 
 
 Not wishing to intrude on these 
 I wandered out among the trees, 
 liut paused bi side a bower at last, 
 Because I heard within a voice 
 That caught my ear, and held me fast, 
 As one who listens without choice; 
 Then glancing through my eyes beheld 
 Two lovers, by a shaded seat, 
 She sitting, he upon his feet, 
 As if some passion fiercely swelled; 
 
130 BEYOND 
 
 And as I looked she spoke and said, 
 "If you in life had told me this— 
 Nay only half— then happiness 
 Were mine unto my dying bed." 
 "Thou wert of state; it might not be; 
 But that is past, and now we know; 
 And where thou goest I must go, 
 Defying all to follow thee." 
 "But thou forgettest, lover true, 
 We are no longer in the flesh: 
 A threat is idle; life is fresh; 
 But spirits we; what wouldn't t hou do ?" 
 * What woulds'tldo? behold this knife; 
 A spirit still is more than air; 
 It is a presence bearing life, 
 To be a devil if it dare." 
 "Thou frightest me; be calm, be still; 
 Come let us hope, and forward fare: 
 The day is deep with mystery." 
 Then arm in arm they walked away, 
 She pleading as a woman may, 
 He yielding as a lover will. 
 
 And as I looked a being fair 
 Approached this solitary pair, 
 And paused and said, " Why linger thou ? 
 Thy kinsmen are already past; 
 Make haste and go; thou art the last/' 
 
OR HERE. 131 
 
 To this the lover straightway said, 
 "We stand in doubt; we linger here 
 Because we have been long apart. 
 We are just risen from the dead." 
 At this the messenger came near, 
 And answered ttiem, I know not what, 
 But something, doubtless, of their fate, 
 For when he ceased, with fears forgot, 
 They ran all gladly, hand in hand, 
 Out toward the brown uneven land, 
 That lay between them and the gate. 
 
 I looked but stood as in a trance, 
 I heard no sound, and saw no man, 
 I only saw their swift advance, 
 As through the billowy fields they ran; 
 But ere they passed the gated wall 
 I saw him pause and turn and fling, 
 To distant sands, some glittering thing, 
 Then as a bird to love-note call, 
 If on a passing spray it swing, 
 Will hasten forward to its mate 
 So now he hastened as with wing, 
 And hand in hand they passed the gate, 
 While darkness fell again o'er all. 
 The wind tbout me made its moan, 
 The stars looKed down as if at night, 
 And it was solemn there alone 
 
132 BEYOND 
 
 Until again came back the light; 
 But filled with memories of the day, 
 And knowing more was not for me, 
 All sadly now I turned away, 
 And dared not look again to see. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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