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This book is in memory of our son 
 and brother, Ernest Frank Hausser, and 
 can only be obtained thru a personal 
 request to his immediate family. 
 
From Youth to Man 
 
 Verses written during School 
 and College Life 
 
 by 
 
 Ernest Frank Hausser 
 
 Philadelphia, U. S. A. 
 1920 
 

 
 Copyright 1920, by 
 A. HAUSSER, Philadelphia 
 
 MA' ; 
 
 George H Buchanan Company 
 Philadelphia 
 
 ©CI.A565967 
 

My songs no more re-echo 
 My infinite devotion, 
 Than does a tiny sea-shell 
 The music of the ocean. 
 
 And so may this small collection of verse 
 but serve to aid us to fancy what might 
 have been, and give us an insight into a 
 noble soul. 
 
FANCY 
 
SPRING 
 
 Go forth my soul, for the Muse divine 
 
 Is singing in new refrains, 
 And Spring like a pure and lithesome maiden 
 
 Leaps out of the musical strains. 
 
 She flings the sunbeams in circles enchanted, 
 The wings of the winds unfold; 
 
 She scatters the green with a lyrical laughter 
 And daintily trims with gold. 
 
 Go forth where she lingers — look into her eyes, 
 That sparkle with transient gleam, 
 
 Till it rouses within thee that golden ardor — 
 Then swoon to her bosom and dream. 
 
 13 
 
AD DEUM 
 
 A mystical love is unfolding 
 
 In the bud to a gradual rose ; 
 
 In the rose ever longing for beauty, 
 
 In the beauty that heavenward flows. 
 
 VISIONS 
 
 When I on Nature's green repose at rest, 
 With peaceful tranquil thoughts am doubly 
 
 blessed, 
 I view in sky-transforming clouds, the scenes 
 That form in ideal tones my cherished 
 
 dreams. 
 
 Then in a bluish mist they fade away, 
 While others, forming, rise to link the play; 
 And so my idle fancies fade and rise, 
 Each plays, in turn, its part upon the skies. 
 
 14 
 
FANCY 
 
 Deep within cool forest shades, 
 
 Dim silent realms steeped in the fainting 
 
 Echoes of forgotten lore, 
 
 There glides thru nature's mystic halls 
 
 Great Fancy's queen, wan fading form, 
 
 Like twilight trailing thru deep green — 
 
 Hovering, still, o'er velvet beds, 
 
 Moss-grown where brooklets sparkle low 
 
 Like music of the long ago. 
 
 She sways, sweet Fancy sways supreme, 
 And from her luring wand arise 
 In wondrous ways the wondrous play 
 Of life — a dream, dreamed by the soul 
 That sleeps — in mortal bosom sleeps 
 And wakes when mortal is no more. 
 
 She glides — with winged time keeps pace- 
 The present wanes into the past, 
 And there I lie, alone, and dream 
 While Fancy steals my life away. 
 
 15 
 
NATURE'S CHILD 
 
 Great crystal peaks and frozen streams 
 Enwrap their chilly winter dreams 
 
 In hazy mists that flow 
 To form the veils of nature's child, 
 Smiling o'er a primal wild, 
 
 Time and years ago. 
 
 While fairy forms in dreamy flight 
 Pass down the misty slopes of white — 
 
 Their crystal trumpets blow, 
 And flakes of pearl around her strew 
 And bathe her hair with icy dew, 
 
 Time and years ago. 
 
 And still where whitest snows arise 
 She glides along with lyric sighs. 
 
 From smiling Sappho flows 
 A winter Grace of snow-like thought — 
 For nature's purest work was wrought 
 
 Time and years ago. 
 
 16 
 
BLOW, WIND, BLOW 
 
 Blow, wind, blow; 
 'Tis a murmuring out of the deep 
 Where the past lies buried forever 
 And haunts all the world with the 
 dream of its sleep. 
 
 TENDEBNESS 
 
 Tenderness ! Elysian nymph divine, 
 Born of the rosy blush of myriad flowers 
 Lingering midst fragrant, sunlit bowers, 
 Pillowed in the bosom of their bloom, 
 Wafted in the breath of their perfume. 
 
 Thy star-crest sceptre, like a single ray 
 Darting from heaven's soft, ethereal blue, 
 Instills with wondrous touch an influx as 
 Of fairy thrills to soothe a thorn-crowned 
 heart. 
 
 17 
 
PALM 
 
 A gently rolling green is Palm, 
 So peacefully serene and calm, 
 Here dinted with dark wooded green, 
 A native's barn there dots the scene, 
 A white and woolly cloud on high 
 Floats listless o'er the summer sky, 
 Beneath whose soft ethereal blue 
 The changing scene outspreads in view, 
 While summer browses on the lay 
 Till night scarfs up the dreaming day. 
 
 18 
 
TO A FLOWER 
 
 Thou tender little flower 
 Peeping from shady bower, 
 What secret bides thy star-like bloom 
 That moves my soul to music power. 
 Harmony sweet 
 In sympathy meet, 
 Wafted in perfume 
 'er a laughing heather, 
 Mingling us together. 
 
 As I behold thy modest grace, 
 And drink thy purple beauty, 
 I slowly pass from time and place 
 To move in pure, aesthetic space, 
 Blest in the essence of your race, 
 Far beyond the spheres. 
 
 19 
 
FAIRY SONG 
 
 Sunbeams are prancing 
 
 Over the lea, 
 Fairy loves dancing, 
 
 Kisses are free. 
 
 Breezes are blowing 
 
 Silvery chimes ; 
 Brooklets are flowing 
 
 Purling with rhymes. 
 
 Maybells are tinkling, 
 Brimming with glee, 
 
 Violets twinkling, 
 Merry are we. 
 
 Love, let us wander 
 Lithesome and gay, 
 
 Over the hills 
 And far away! 
 
 20 
 
FAIRYLAND 
 
 Over the hills, Fancy is calling, 
 
 Hark to the golden song. 
 Dreams are astir in the bosom of nature — 
 
 Come, let us go along. 
 
 A little girl, with a golden curl, 
 Is skipping with fanciful grace, 
 
 A little boy, all laughing with joy, 
 Is merrily giving the chase. 
 
 They go dancing and prancing each other 
 entrancing 
 
 Till playfully hand in hand 
 They descend to a valley, a beautiful valley, 
 
 That fades into Fairyland. 
 
 21 
 
FANTASY 
 
 Out of the forest 
 
 Comes skipping along 
 A dancing fawn 
 
 With airy song, 
 
 And gathers the dew, 
 The sparkling gem, 
 
 To make for his love 
 A diadem; 
 
 And seeks the thin webs, 
 O'er grasses spun, 
 
 To form the light veils 
 Of his lovely one. 
 
 From petal to petal 
 He darts and dares, 
 
 Then suddenly starts 
 And stands and stares, 
 
 For there is a maiden 
 So mythic and fair, 
 
 With soft, blue eyes 
 And golden hair, 
 
 22 
 
Who plucks a Forget-me-not 
 
 Tiny and blue, 
 Twinkling Forget-me-not 
 
 Brimming with dew. 
 
 Then lowers her eyes, 
 
 So soft and clear, 
 Where suddenly trembles 
 
 A sparkling tear; 
 
 Where trembles a tear 
 Of tenderest woes, 
 
 And falls on the bloom 
 Of a little wild rose, 
 
 Where swift as a breeze, 
 In a lithesome whirl, 
 
 The little fawn darts 
 And gathers the pearl ; 
 
 For ne'er had he seen 
 Such a beautiful gem — 
 
 How sparkling 'twill be 
 In his diadem. 
 
 23 
 
AUTUMN NIGHT 
 
 The frosty stars drip in the skies ; 
 The brow of autumn lingers there, 
 And moaning winds, in distant chase, 
 Now pass like frowns o'er Autumn's face, 
 While dancing leaves, like shadow creatures, 
 Rustle o'er her changing features, 
 And thoughts that haunt the night 
 Like shadows, sadden at her sight; 
 While dreams are chilled by gloomy sighs 
 And sudden tears start to my eyes. 
 
 24 
 
THE PLAY OF COLORS 
 
 The forest old, the forest grim, 
 Asleep and silent, reigns supreme, 
 
 And pillowed on green twilight dim 
 Great nature slumbers in a dream. 
 
 Within the very labyrinth core, 
 
 From depths of the antiquity, 
 The aged majestic silence bore 
 
 A weird, enhanced prodigy. 
 
 Beneath the arch-leafed canopy 
 Appeared in flittering noiseless tread 
 
 A wondrous dancing fantasy — 
 The ruby fairy veiled in red. 
 
 Another came, the emerald queen, 
 The sapphire fairy follows too; 
 
 The one is garbed in flowing green, 
 The other wears a filmy blue. 
 
 They danced and danced and danced all three 
 
 Upon the velvet forest bed; 
 They danced and danced and danced all three, 
 
 The flowing green, the blue, the red. 
 
 25 
 
And hand in hand they danced a ring, 
 Then broke the ring in sudden start, 
 
 And each in turn began to sing 
 In soft strains of a dreaming harp. 
 
 Ruby 
 
 Ored, 
 Bright red. 
 
 Emebald 
 
 green, 
 Mild green. 
 
 Sapphire 
 
 blue, 
 So true. 
 
 Ruby 
 
 My sisters, sweet sisters of blue and of green, 
 The red fairy Ruby of colors is queen. 
 For red is the brightest and red the most 
 
 glaring, 
 For red is predominant, red the most flaring. 
 Fire most fearful of elements known 
 Roars crackling in furious red glowing tone. 
 Health, greatest blessing and prayer of the 
 
 weak 
 Blooms when the ruby red glows in the cheek. 
 
 26 
 
"lis only when sickly or dying or dead 
 That limpid, pale blue is placed in its stead. 
 For red is the foremost, is vigor, is life, 
 It flows on the battlefield, flows in all strife. 
 My sisters, dear sisters of blue and of green, 
 The red fairy Ruby of colors is queen. 
 
 Emekald 
 
 Ah ! fairy Ruby, the green, the mild green 
 Is far the most plentiful everywhere seen; 
 For nature, thou sacred, thou awed and 
 
 revered, 
 Great mystic complexity wondrously weird; 
 silent behest sway the almighty rod — 
 Art power itself and revealer of God. 
 And nature hath chosen to clothe in the 
 
 green — 
 The soothing Emerald should be our queen. 
 
 Sapphike 
 
 sisters, my sisters of red and of green, 
 Let Sapphire convince that blue is your 
 
 queen. 
 So cast your eyes upwards the heavens to 
 
 view, 
 Thru green interwoven see twinkling the 
 
 blue, 
 Celestial blue, that envelops our earth, 
 
 27 
 
From thine azure depths she was given her 
 
 birth. 
 Thou art the abode of the angels and God, 
 While nature but echoes his Almighty nod. 
 Eternal, thy choir resounds thru the main 
 While earth in her turning but hums the 
 
 refrain ; 
 And the earth must be doomed when heaven 
 
 her sever — 
 The heavenly blue reigns forever and ever, 
 
 The Ruby fairy glowed in red, 
 In wrathful trend about to speak; 
 
 A mild but wanton wind instead 
 Arose to kiss each burning cheek. 
 
 The veils then whirled upon the lay, 
 The waning three, their purpose wean; 
 
 Again in silence fade away 
 
 The red, the blue, the flowing green. 
 
 28 
 
BIRTH AND DEATH 
 
 Star of the East and a new-born love, 
 And the breath of the early morn; 
 
 A pearl of dew 
 
 And a kiss from you, 
 And the bliss of things first born. 
 
 Robes of the West and the setting sun, 
 And the calm of the evening lay; 
 A thought, untold, 
 Of a soul grown old, 
 And the peace of the passing away. 
 
 TRES 
 
 Morning star and the violet 
 And the twinkle of thine eyes, 
 'Tis beauty set in a triolet 
 
 Of the exalted Light 
 Of Paradise, 
 
 From whence in azure flight 
 It streams in treble guise. 
 Morning star and the violet 
 And the twinkle of thine eyes. 
 
 29 
 
THE PEARL 
 
 Sunbeams are sparkling on bright blue seas 
 
 Like kisses of golden air, 
 A mermaid is riding a foam crest wave 
 
 And tosses her golden hair. 
 
 She laughs to me brightly, and from her 
 curled lips 
 
 She throws me a foam-like kiss 
 That plays in the breezes and floats along 
 
 Like a bubble of dreaming bliss. 
 
 As it falls on the sands of the glimmering 
 shore 
 
 It bursts and discloses to me 
 The pearl I had given a love long ago 
 
 On the eve she was carried to sea. 
 
 30 
 
LOVE'S STAR 
 
 In the crimson blush of the West I behold 
 
 A silvery cloud unfold 
 And open the portals into the skies, 
 
 Faint with a glimmer of gold. 
 
 A love in the time of my youth stands there, 
 Like a dream that is faint and far, 
 
 And she smiles as of yore as she holds in 
 her hand 
 The light of the evening star. 
 
 The skies grow dim and she wanes from sight 
 With the shadowy kiss of night, 
 
 Yet I know that my love is still smiling on me, 
 For the star in the West is bright. 
 
 31 
 
TRIOLET 
 
 Reach out into the blushing skies 
 And pluck the sparkling star of love 
 Where crimson dreams of youth arise. 
 Reach out into the blushing skies 
 Amidst thy dreams and realize 
 The spark from Sacred Fires above. 
 Reach out into the blushing skies 
 And pluck the sparkling star of love. 
 
 LIEBE 
 
 Die Rose muss verbliihen Kind 
 Und du musst auch vergehen, 
 
 So schmiede dich der Liebe an 
 Und ziih auf Berges Hohn. 
 
 Wo Gottes Licht und Menchen Herz 
 
 Rein in einander gehen, 
 Dort pflege sie, nur sie allein, 
 
 Denn Lieb bleibt ewig schon. 
 
 32 
 
THE SINGER 
 
 In the green of dewy mosses 
 Sings a golden- winged canary 
 In a golden sun-beamed tremor 
 To a dreaming fairy. 
 
 The canary loves the fairy, 
 By her dreaming grace is taken, 
 And he sings more beautifully 
 That she might awaken. 
 
 And the fairy smiles in dreaming, 
 By the golden song is taken, 
 And she smiles more beautifully 
 But will not awaken. 
 
 Comes a princely fay a-wooing 
 Wakes her with his nectared kisses 
 Till away with him she flitters 
 Nor the song she misses. 
 
 So the poet charms the dreaming 
 Of a loved one with his art, 
 But himself is not a sharer 
 Of that loved one's heart. 
 
 33 
 
MEMOEIES 
 
 Pale moonbeams thru the lattice pierce the 
 shade, 
 
 Lay bare, in flickering sheen of mellow grade, 
 A fond remembrance of the past, 
 Love's token old in moonshine cast. 
 
 It wakes forgotten memories of the sage, 
 Long slumbering, in the hallowed years of 
 age; 
 Its fitful breathing sets aglow 
 The ashen realms of long ago. 
 
 'Tis like a fairy tale till now untold, 
 Rumored, unheard, in golden days of old, 
 
 Which from its sepulcher, the real, 
 
 In resurrection seems ideal. 
 
 Now in a glorious cloud of crimson hue 
 They rise, moulding once more youth's scenes 
 anew, 
 Then fade into the Orient, 
 Where youth is wrought and youth is 
 spent. 
 
 34 
 
One fiery tint, swept by a stifling wave, 
 Mem'ries for evermore have found their 
 grave. 
 The moonbeams slowly o 'er have past, 
 The aged sire has breathed his last. 
 
 35 
 
SONG OF ROMEO 
 
 The skies are sunny and blue, the flowers 
 
 shake their dew 
 Into the summer winds that softly sigh 
 for you 
 And bring me sweet wild dreams — 
 
 Art thou whispering, love? 
 The summer winds bring sweet wild 
 dreams. 
 
 The shores are grey where mingle the 
 
 spirits of the ocean; 
 Its foamy bosom murmurs like divine 
 emotion, 
 Murmurs in my dreams — 
 Art thou singing, love? 
 The ocean murmurs in my dreams. 
 
 Now the evening bells are ringing, o 'er the 
 
 distant mountain crest 
 The crimson clouds are blushing in the 
 golden west, 
 Are blushing in my dreams — 
 
 Art thou dreaming, love? 
 The clouds are blushing in my dreams. 
 
 36 
 
The myriad stars are twinkling, the crescent 
 
 of the moon 
 Sheds silver veils o 'er forests where mythic 
 sylvans croon, 
 Crooning in my dreams — 
 Oh, Juliet, 
 My Juliet; 
 Her sylvans crooning in my dreams. 
 
 So nature in her glory of scenic majesty, 
 Unveils a world of visions thru the thought 
 of thee, 
 Unveils a world of dreams — 
 
 Thy soul 
 Unveils a hidden love in dreams. 
 
 37 
 
LOVE LOST BENEATH THE DEEP, 
 
 DEEP SEA 
 
 Yonder, on a promontory 
 Flooded with the mellow glory 
 Of the evening's western glare, 
 Stands a maiden, lone and fair. 
 
 Stands a maiden — lone, supreme — 
 Looking o'er the ocean's breast, 
 Beyond the far horizon's gleam, 
 Deep into the blushing west. 
 
 Deep into the blushing west, 
 
 Into eternal realms of rest, 
 
 Where lives the love — the love that she 
 
 Had lost beneath the deep, deep sea. 
 
 Love lost beneath the deep, deep sea, 
 Yet harbored on a crimson shore, 
 Safely in eternity, 
 And there awaits her evermore. 
 
 There awaits her evermore, 
 Where songs in crimson floods outpour 
 In grand Elysian serenades 
 Till in the west the glory fades. 
 
 38 
 
In the west the glory fades; 
 Yonder looms the evening star, 
 Prophet of approaching shades, 
 Marching slowly o 'er the bar. 
 
 Shadows marching o'er the bar 
 Draw the pale and stately car 
 Of their queen, the silvery moon, 
 Eising as the shadows swoon. 
 
 Rising as the shadows swoon 
 Into dark monotony; 
 Now, with streaming reins, the moon 
 Yokes the bosom of the sea. 
 
 Oh! the bosom of the sea 
 Streaked with streams so silvery, 
 From the trembling sheen's embrace, 
 See it rise, a mystic grace. 
 
 See the form — a mystic grace — 
 
 Dream of yore and evermore. 
 Love, 'tis love yon tender trace — 
 How it beckons to the shore! 
 
 See it beckons to the shore, 
 To the maiden on the shore, 
 Who, enchanted, clinging tight, 
 Swift descends the moonlit height. 
 
 39 
 
Down the rugged and moonlit height 
 Wild her eyes, her very soul, 
 The raven hair in pallid light — 
 Soon she gains the rocky shoal. 
 
 Out and o'er the rocky shoal 
 Far — far to the waning goal 
 To join the love, the love that she 
 Had lost beneath the deep, deep sea. 
 
 40 
 
THE SHEPHERD'S SONG 
 
 I took the strands of golden hair 
 Once gathered from my love, 
 
 And on some purple violets 
 A golden harp I wove. 
 
 And when 'twas done a zephyr's wing 
 That fanned the flowery lea 
 
 Upon my little harp did play 
 A golden melody. 
 
 And as the soft strands floated by 
 A voice sang sweet and low, 
 
 come to me, come to me, 
 For still I love you so. 
 
 41 
 
THE WANDERER 
 
 The wanderer comes home again, 
 
 'Tis after many years, 
 And what a strangeness greets him now 
 
 As he the old home nears. 
 
 Where are those flowery fields and lanes ? 
 
 Gone is the old homestead. 
 The friends that were, are strangers now, 
 
 And Elenore has wed. 
 
 Sadly, then, he turns away, 
 For love is no more there; 
 
 In tears he seeks his mother's grave, 
 There kneels in silent prayer. 
 
 42 
 
WAR-TIME LULLABY 
 
 When the moon is softly gleaming, 
 Softly gleaming on the ocean — 
 Sleep ! my pretty babe, sleep ! 
 While the heart is fondly dreaming, 
 And the soul is all emotion — 
 Sleep ! my pretty babe, sleep ! 
 Tho thy father comes no more, 
 Ah ! no more, 
 Close thine eyes my little one, 
 Close thine eyes 
 And sleep. 
 
 When the winds are lonely blowing, 
 Lonely blowing o'er the shoal — 
 Sleep ! my pretty babe, sleep ! 
 And a longing comes a-flowing, 
 Comes a-flowing from my soul — 
 Sleep ! my pretty babe, sleep ! 
 Tho thy father comes no more, 
 Ah! no more, 
 Close thine eyes my little one, 
 Close thine eyes 
 And sleep. 
 
 43 
 
JAMAHO 
 
 I am softly swooning to sleep, Jamaho; 
 I shall never awake again, 
 And I fear — ah ! I fear that my soul 
 Shall be mingled and whipped in the foams 
 of the Main, 
 
 To the blush of a rose 
 Or the light of a star, 
 To the music that flows 
 From the ocean bar. 
 So linger awhile on my lips, Jamaho, 
 I shall never again for you pine. 
 Ah ! leave me not Love, till my soul 
 Shall mingle and dawn like a sunrise on thine. 
 
 44 
 
LOVE 
 
THE KISS OF LOVE 
 
 Evening has crossed the golden bar, 
 
 A lone star sails above, 
 Two children drink the nectar 
 
 Of their first true kiss of love. 
 
 Upon their lips is mingled 
 
 All music of their souls 
 In concord — where a flighty dream 
 
 Of golden age unrolls. 
 
 For they were lovers ages past, 
 Two souls blown in one breath, 
 
 To love throughout all worlds to come, 
 Through transient life and death. 
 
 47 
 
HYMN OF LOVE 
 
 Grant me, Lord, once to realize fully, 
 
 Once unto all senses to bring 
 The wealth of her love which unf oldeth to me 
 
 Like the bounteous blossoms of spring, 
 Lord, 
 
 Like the bounteous blossoms of spring. 
 
 For then shall I surely be pure, Lord, 
 For then shall I surely be strong; 
 
 And all that is good and true and eternal 
 Shall flow from my soul like song, Lord, 
 Shall flow from my soul like song. 
 
 4$ 
 
COME, LOVE, LET US WANDER AWAY 
 
 Come, love, let us wander away 
 And mingle the song of our souls ; 
 
 Let us sit in sweet rapture and listen 
 As softly the music unrolls. 
 
 Let us sit in sweet rapture and listen 
 While the hour grows golden and fair, 
 
 And a dream comes out of the west 
 As the sun is setting there. 
 
 Who knows what the morrow will bring, 
 The morrow shall bring what it may, 
 
 I only know that I love you 
 And that you are mine today. 
 
 49 
 
AUTUMN 
 
 Autumn, tinged with sunsets, 
 Charmed with pensive beauty, 
 Mystic and majestic, 
 
 Nature entrancing. 
 Forests dim and festive, 
 Purple vines and odors 
 Copious with garlands 
 
 Tinted romantic. 
 Arbors rich and golden, 
 Clustering fruits maturing, 
 Fringed with leaves of russet 
 
 Glowing fantastic. 
 
 Under twining arches 
 Love, her eyelids closing, 
 All allured with mystic 
 Moods of richest beauty, 
 Seeks the kindred bosom. 
 There the head resting, 
 Resting devoted; 
 There two souls blending, 
 Blending like music, 
 There the tears flowing, 
 Flowing so softly 
 Evermore grateful. 
 
 50 
 
HER TOUCH 
 
 0, touch not my hair so lightly, wind ! 
 Nor whisper so sweet in my ear ! 
 Too dear, too dear, 
 The dream you awake. 
 0, touch not my hair so lightly, wind ! 
 Nor whisper so soft in my ear! 
 Lest my heart break. 
 
 STAR AND PEARL AND KISS 
 
 The heavens are dreaming with sunset, 
 
 And oh! for the star! 
 The ocean is crooning with music, 
 
 And oh! for the pearl! 
 My spirit is blushing with love, 
 
 And oh ! for the touch of your lips, 
 Laughing girl! 
 
 51 
 
LOVE 
 
 Far, far across the bar 
 
 In a purple sky a golden star — 
 
 Love 
 
 Strange, sunny lands in the evening shade, 
 Strain of a harp and a serenade — 
 
 Love 
 
 A murmuring zephyr from fairyland blows 
 And mildly kisses the blushing rose — 
 
 Love 
 
 Midsummer night in a moonlit vale 
 And the song of a lonely nightingale — 
 
 Love 
 
 4 
 
 Aetherial Thought with purity pearled 
 That the wings of the world unfurled — 
 
 Love. 
 
 52 
 
SECRET 
 
 A secret sweet and rare 
 Within my heart abides, 
 And no one knows 'tis there , 
 For like Elfins shy at sunrise, 
 So it darts and hides. 
 
 But when I think of thee, 
 
 My sweet, my lovely one, 
 
 I set my secret free, 
 
 And my soul glows like the sunset, 
 
 My heart, the setting sun. 
 
 53 
 
LOVE 
 
 Spring breathes on the harp of Eden 
 Her aeolian madrigal; 
 And nature is greening and flowering 
 As softly the melodies fall. 
 
 Love tenderly breathes on my heart-strings, 
 My soul with music glows ; 
 Through the mystical halls of my Being, 
 Life beautifully flows. 
 
 LOVE'S KISS 
 
 The dawn, 
 
 The rosy skies, 
 
 And all at once — the star of morn. 
 
 The hush, 
 
 The maiden's blush, 
 
 And like the star — love's kiss is born. 
 
 54 
 
THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS ARE 
 FALLING 
 
 The cherry blossoms are falling like snow- 
 flakes 
 
 Through the deep silence of the night, 
 
 And the soft turf is becoming all white and 
 fragrant 
 
 Surely my beloved is lying down to sweet 
 sleep. 
 
 WHEN DAWN IS BREAKING 
 
 Oh! would thou wert sleeping, 
 As even thou art, 
 (So rosy and golden) 
 Content, at my heart ! 
 
 55 
 
UNTO THEE 
 
 Sacred, within an ancient temple, 
 
 Lonely, 
 A torch burns. 
 
 Silent and dark my chamber — dearest, 
 
 Only, 
 My soul yearns. 
 
 AT SUNSET 
 
 The wanderer enters the temple of prayer, 
 And I the presence of my beloved. 
 
 56 
 
THOUGHT 
 
BROTHERS ! 
 
 Let us fling open wide the portals of our 
 
 breast — 
 Dumb reason far too much the finer moods 
 
 controls — 
 Let us sing out the songs within ourselves 
 
 repressed, 
 And like the wanton winds that blow from 
 
 out the west, 
 So let us mingle more the music of our souls. 
 For when I know thee as thou art, and thou 
 
 me, 
 Then life shall be more beautiful, and love 
 
 more free. 
 
 MY SONGS 
 
 My songs no more re-echo 
 My infinite devotion, 
 
 Than does a tiny sea-shell 
 The music of the ocean. 
 
 59 
 
BUILD ME A HUT 
 
 Build me a hut within primeval woods, 
 Far, far away from the too busy scene 
 And greed of life. There let me live my day 
 Amid the musings of a muse divine, 
 Whose spirit, breathing softly thruout all, 
 Plays nature like a great seolian harp 
 And sweetly sings of the eternity. 
 
 thou, my soul, here rend the mortal bonds, 
 That keep thee bound, and join the rhythmic 
 
 trend 
 Of nature, blending all into the great 
 Ecstatic weirdness of her harmony, 
 Of which thy self art but a part. 
 
 60 
 
MOOD 
 
 0, the longing that steals thru my soul ! 
 
 And the mood of infinity ! 
 When the night winds sweep over the shoal 
 
 And pass far over the sea. 
 
 0, would that my soul could follow, 
 
 And mingle with storms of the ocean 
 
 Or, steeped in the infinite calm, 
 Join its eternal emotion! 
 
 WHEN NlGHT WINDS SWEEP ACROSS 
 
 THE SHOAL 
 
 When night winds sweep across the shoal, 
 
 Far, far out to sea, 
 0, for a kindred bosom and soul 
 
 That never again shall be ! 
 
 61 
 
THE FIRST OF MAN 
 
 I 
 
 The ages come and go, and man must die. 
 He was a wanderer the hills thruout, 
 And looked upon the great ethereal sky 
 In thoughtless mien, in vague and careless 
 
 doubt. 
 To him 'twas but a blue expanse, a space 
 For sun and moon and stars in rhyme to pace, 
 And nothing more. 
 
 His journey, as it seemed to him, had waned 
 From the indefinite, to wane again 
 Into the deep indefinite. Alone he reigned; 
 So must he go, he knew not where, to feign 
 A life for living's sake — doomed to end 
 When clay, transformed, again to clay would 
 
 blend, 
 And nothing more. 
 
 II 
 
 Then as he slowly made his way, he came 
 Upon a sparkling stream, whose pearling 
 
 song 
 Imbued the shades that ages cast, the same 
 Thru which he wandered — none can tell how 
 
 long. 
 
 62 
 
And lying down beside the music stream 
 Was steeped in sleep, and dreamed a won- 
 drous dream. 
 
 Ill 
 
 And in this wondrous dream he seemed to 
 
 see 
 Into the deep depths of infinity, 
 From whence broke forth, as from a cloud 
 
 of night, 
 A faint and feeble radiancy of light. 
 
 And in its midst appeared a form more 
 
 bright — 
 A source of glory — from itself it flings 
 The rays which, in a fluctuating flight 
 Outline a pearly-brilliant pair of wings. 
 
 Now from infinity it seems to make 
 Approach, and, drawing near as shades 
 
 disperse, 
 Grows brighter, brighter and with trembling 
 
 wake 
 The holy Light sweeps thru the universe. 
 'Tis coming on in swift and swifter flight ; 
 The essence of all power in a breath 
 Sweeps o'er him now — Drink of immortal 
 
 light ! 
 O fainting ecstacy! Departing death! 
 
 63 
 
IV 
 
 He wakes, he clutches at his breast, 
 Then wildly stares, stares to see 
 The fleeting of the dream — the dream, 
 The dream — 'tis gone. How still the forest! 
 0, what wondrous calm and majesty 
 Besets its stately silence! 
 
 V 
 
 Low, faint and low, a voice — 
 
 'Tis like a murmur from the deep; 
 
 A warning that thru unborn ages 
 
 Rises from within the breast 
 
 And renders the celestial 
 
 Immortality the subject of 
 
 This life — 'tis Conscience — Conscience; 
 
 Now it speaks; he hears, and having 
 
 Heard, so shall he hear it 
 
 Evermore. He is the first of man. 
 
 64 
 
EGO 
 
 You ask me, friend, what means my life to 
 
 me? 
 I say it means the ever-growing joy 
 Spent in the better growing of all self; 
 In crystallizing thought and bosom flames 
 Into an all containing One and Passion; 
 Into a singleness of sacred fire, 
 That in the chaos of a light beyond 
 Shall gleam in undivided radiancy — 
 
 A soul! 
 
 I gather from myself the crimson petals 
 
 To form the sacred rose 
 
 Of everlasting bloom. 
 I conjure from myself the music notes 
 
 To form the gamut of 
 
 Eternal harmony. 
 
 65 
 
THE TRUTH 
 
 I sat alone one wintry night 
 
 And pondered over death, 
 And wondered if I still would live 
 
 After earthly breath. 
 
 I questioned all religious thought, 
 
 And from my early youth 
 I studied all philosophies 
 
 And longed to know the truth. 
 
 While thus in thoughtful revery, 
 I heard a sudden rapping, 
 
 And thru the door and over the floor 
 A phantom form came tapping. 
 
 "I am the voice of Truth," it said, 
 
 "And come in secrecy 
 To tell you what you long to know 
 
 Of the eternity." 
 
 A momentary thrill of joy 
 
 Went thru me like a dart, 
 But, just before the voice would speak 
 
 A chill came to my heart. 
 
 I started, scarcely knowing why, 
 
 I bid the phantom go, 
 Then slowly turned aside — somehow 
 
 I did not want to know. 
 
 66 
 
A VISION 
 
 'Twas evening of the Sabbath day, 
 The church bells everywhere 
 
 Were ringing out into the world — 
 It was the time for prayer. 
 
 Out in the west, a magic glow 
 Imbued the skies, enticed, 
 
 As on a little trembling cloudlet 
 Rose the form of Christ. 
 
 He viewed with calm, majestic eye 
 The steeples that were raised 
 
 O'er all the land to honor Him; 
 He heard His glory praised. 
 
 There was the victory of the cross, 
 And yet as He looked down 
 
 On many a place of Worship there, 
 I saw Him slowly frown, 
 
 67 
 
And with a frown He passed away. 
 
 I gazed, and wondered why, 
 When lo ! a hand reached from nowhere 
 
 And wrote upon the sky: 
 
 "And Jesus went into the temple of God 
 and cast out all them that sold and bought 
 in the temple, and overthrew the tables of 
 the money-changers and the seats of them 
 that sold doves/ ' 
 
 68 
 
THE WORTHLESS 
 
 How many mortals sing to God their praise, 
 And strive only to do His great behest, 
 Not in the love for his appointed ways 
 By which this life itself would be more 
 blessed, 
 
 That each might sow and reap some golden 
 
 grain, 
 Each pluck the clustering grape and drink 
 
 some wine, 
 Returning thus to golden age again, 
 
 But just because, when death dims mortals ' 
 
 eyes, 
 These hope, with utter selfishness, to drink 
 Eternal happiness in paradise ! 
 
 69 
 
ETERNITY 
 
 Again it is midnight, again I can hear 
 Those soft, stealthy footsteps that thrill 
 
 me with fear; 
 Footfalls of time as they steal to the grave, 
 In ceaseless eternity steal to the grave. 
 
 Eternity! why do I shudder and falter, 
 Since ages on ages must pale at thy altar. 
 Yet ages are wrought 
 In the force of soul thought, 
 And I am their measure and not sacrificed, 
 My altar alone is a vision of Christ. 
 
 70 
 
THE ATHEIST 
 
 The raging storm had cleared, and in the west 
 A sudden fiery sunset breaking through 
 
 Enriched the soft and woolly fringed breast 
 Of folding clouds with gorgeous crimson 
 hue. 
 
 He stood upon those shores, storm-swept; 
 His mein was sad and dark — his inner 
 breast 
 A tomb where self had buried self unwept ; 
 He viewed the west — he struggled and 
 suppressed. 
 
 He would deny yon glory, lest the trust 
 Dispel the night where atheism crept; 
 But, Oh, the inner voice — the conscience 
 thrust — 
 His soul would speak, and like a child he 
 wept. 
 
 71 
 
WALK WITH THY GOD 
 
 Walk with thy God ; and in the inmost 
 Temple of thy being 
 Build Him an altar there. 
 
 One power wields and conquers all — 
 And that's a strong soul's prayer. 
 
 PRAYER 
 
 And there is one God over all 
 Whose scepter sways all life; 
 
 And the soul that's strongest in its prayer 
 Stands victor in the strife. 
 
 72 
 
PEAYER 
 
 The world is writhing in the pangs of war. 
 Everywhere about me is pain and suffering, 
 Nothing but war, war, war, 
 My own people have raised their banners, 
 And with gleaming sword are marching off 
 
 to war, 
 Nothing but war, war, war. 
 
 Yet I refuse to take part, 
 
 To march against mankind, 
 
 To kill. 
 
 This is Thy will, God, 
 
 As Thou hast made it manifest in me; 
 
 This is Thy word. 
 
 I hear it clear and strong, 
 
 It sings in my soul like a trumpet call at 
 dawn. 
 
 And I cannot but obey. 
 
 God, help me be fearless and strong in 
 
 the dictates of my soul. 
 Let me not be swayed by the tumult of the 
 
 multitudes ; 
 Let me not yield to the tread of marching 
 
 armies 
 And glitter of gleaming swords and the cries 
 
 of false glory; 
 
 73 
 
Let me not grow faint in the scoff and scorn 
 
 of a people, 
 Nor the threats of those who lead, 
 But help me be patient and fearless and 
 
 strong, 
 For Thy light shines clear, 
 And it sings in my soul like a trumpet 
 call at dawn, 
 And I cannot but obey. 
 
 God, Thou wilt not forsake me. 
 
 Amen. 
 
 74 
 
OTHER POEMS 
 
LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 I 
 
 One night, while seated at my window, 
 And feeling strange and weird, 
 
 Far down the road, where shines the moon, 
 Two wondrous forms appeared. 
 
 The one in black was haggard 
 
 And hideous to see ; 
 The other robed in flowing white 
 
 Was winged and heavenly. 
 
 And side by side they came along; 
 
 A chill went over me 
 As they passed by — two ministers 
 
 Of the eternity. 
 
 II 
 
 The room is small and dim ; a woman, 
 
 Sick in bed, lies moaning, 
 While on the floor a wounded soldier 
 
 Painfully lies groaning. 
 
 The soldier slowly droops his head, 
 
 He gasps, and as he dies, 
 Upon the mother's breast an infant 
 
 Utters first-born cries. 
 
 77 
 
HOW MANY AND MANY A GOLDEN 
 
 HOUR 
 
 How many and many a golden hour 
 
 Of idle sweet dreams have I lavished upon 
 
 thee; 
 The soul pouring forth, in a diademed 
 
 shower, 
 Visions on visions that templed thy bower, 
 Until the sweet fires of youth burnt low 
 And the dream-flame flickered in dying glow. 
 
 And now it is gone and it leaves me outcast — 
 Nothing done in the world — and I shrink 
 
 from the blast, 
 As I stir in dream-ashes for sparks of the 
 
 past. 
 
 But again I were rather, if reborn to prime, 
 A martyr outstretched on the altar of time 
 For the care-free romancer of realms fancy- 
 seen 
 With great rainbow castles and thou as my 
 queen. 
 
 78 
 
THE COTTAGE BY THE SEA 
 
 How the wind howls thru the night, 
 Sweeping on in witch-winged flight 
 O'er rock-rugged shores, then out, far out 
 to sea, 
 Moaning in its might, 
 Groaning at its height 
 Round the cottage by the sea. 
 
 It rattles on the window pane, 
 And thru the door it seeks to gain — 
 Like some forboding evil of the sea 
 Wailing thruout the main — 
 An entrance seeks to gain 
 Into the oottage by the sea. 
 
 A mother pale and sick in bed, 
 
 A little child kneels by the stead, 
 
 The father for the night has gone to sea. 
 
 That dim, low light of dread 
 
 About the room is shed 
 
 Within that cottage by the sea. 
 
 79 
 
The faintest smile, a waning ray, 
 Steals o'er the mother's face. She lay, 
 Life ebbing, while the storm raged out at sea. 
 
 0, hear the sweet child pray, 
 
 In simple prayer pray 
 There, in the cottage by the sea. 
 
 0, hear the winds sweep o'er the shoal! 
 
 They moan, they shriek without control. 
 O, pray, sweet child ! now far, far out to sea 
 They to thy father roll 
 And bear thy mother's soul 
 
 From thee, now lonely by the sea. 
 
 80 
 
ALL IS SILENT 
 
 All is silent — strange the light — 
 A clock is striking far away; 
 I sit alone, while swift the night 
 Steals on and wraps me in its sway. 
 
 My thoughts go back to one now sleeping 
 In the moonbeams' silvery sheen, 
 Streaming like the tears of weeping 
 Angels, near, yet all unseen. 
 
 Wan, elfin spirits flitting by, 
 In sylvan veils and night array, 
 Into the window peep and cry — 
 Tomorrow is her wedding day. 
 
 They marvel at her sweet, pale face, 
 They wonder at her streaming hair, 
 And suddenly, distinct to trace, 
 A form in robes of white stands there. 
 
 A winged form, stately, tall ; 
 It lifts the sword that frees the soul. 
 The elfins fade and now fades all — 
 Oh, God! what means that distant knoll? 
 
 81 
 
THE MUSIC OF THE DEAD 
 
 Midnight came and all were asleep, 
 The winds blew bleak and bare ; 
 
 The moonlight flooded the chambers below, 
 A coffin, white-shrouded, stood there. 
 
 The sheen of the moon began slightly to 
 tremble, 
 As if something had stirred its repose, 
 And the shroud on the coffin began to 
 upraise, 
 While the dead one beneath it arose. 
 
 Arose in the form of a beautiful youth, 
 Like a statue of marble display, 
 
 A youth who had hoped to sway souls 
 with his music, 
 But died at the break of day. 
 
 Then slowly he moved thru the great, 
 silent halls, 
 
 And never a sound he made 
 As he took from the walls his favorite harp 
 
 On which he so often had played. 
 
 82 
 
And there in the moonlight his white, 
 wasted fingers 
 Softly the harp strings stirred, 
 While tones of such wonderful music 
 came forth 
 As never a mortal had heard. 
 
 So wild and so sweet with harmonic 
 discordance, 
 So thrilled with a tremulous wail, 
 That those who were sleeping in chambers 
 above, 
 They smiled in their sleep and grew pale. 
 
 More wondrously trembled the tones with 
 enchantment, 
 More weirdly they thrilled the halls thru, 
 While those that were sleeping more 
 heavenly smiled 
 And paler and paler they grew. 
 
 Among them a child, with bright, golden 
 locks, 
 In sleeping raised slowly her head, 
 And held out her hands as to something 
 before her, 
 Then swooned and fell back to her bed. 
 
 83 
 
Then suddenly ceased all the music — the 
 tones 
 Died away like a haunted breath. 
 The player stole stealthily back to the 
 coffin, 
 And all became silent as death. 
 
 Then morning dawned and the sun arose 
 With its rays of golden and red, 
 
 But those that were sleeping, they never 
 awoke, 
 Not even to bury the dead. 
 
 84 
 
ONE NIGHT 
 
 One night an awful vision thrilled 
 The slumbering chambers of my soul. 
 A mad youth chased a fleeting maiden 
 O'er a night enchanted shoal, 
 Where the spirits of the ocean 
 Breathed a melancholy knoll. 
 
 He caught her flying tresses, 
 He seized her tangled hair; 
 She fell upon her knees 
 And pleaded in despair, 
 As with his soul's behest 
 A blade flashed in the air, 
 A moment trembled there, 
 Then sank into her breast. 
 
 The moon rocked in the skies, 
 The seas began to moan, 
 The stars fell from their orbits, 
 The earth shook in a groan, 
 When black night like a pall 
 Fell suddenly o'er all. 
 
 85 
 
From the abyss of night 
 A wail of agony, 
 A faint and distant wail 
 Of human agony 
 Arose, and, quailing, fell 
 Upon the silent spell. 
 Then Lucifer swept by 
 And took a soul to hell. 
 
 86 
 
ONE OF A THOUSAND 
 
 (A translation from a German poem) 
 
 My son! — is he dead? I scarce grasp the 
 
 meaning, 
 I stare at the message as tho I were dreaming. 
 
 My boy, my dear boy, my comfort and light, 
 His laughing eyes, so blue and so bright. 
 
 He beheld me so proudly, so soldierly stern, 
 "Have courage, dear mother, for soon I'll 
 return. 
 
 1 i How long will it be ? A year at the most. 
 Then shall we come home a victorious host. 
 
 i ' The golden laurels shall then be possessed, 
 The Cross of Iron adorning my breast. 
 
 "No foe shall then ever our dear home 
 
 destroy, 
 Mother, the fatherland calls for your boy. 
 
 "One of a thousand, console thyself too, 
 For thousands of mothers must suffer like 
 you. 
 
 "Millions of sons the great call obey, 
 Hundreds have bled and passed away. ' y 
 
 87 
 
My boy, my dear boy, my comfort and light, 
 Thy laughing eyes, so blue and so bright; 
 
 And now they are closed, and thy lips too 
 
 are pale, 
 And thou buried deep in a foreign vale, 
 
 With the Iron Cross, which in burning zest 
 You sought, now adorning thy bleeding 
 breast. 
 
 You bade me, "Weep not with such bitter 
 
 emotion- 
 One of a thousand — a drop in the ocean.' ' 
 
 88 
 
WHERE SAFFRONED FANCIES 
 WILDLY SWAYED 
 
 Where saffroned fancies wildly swayed 
 
 O'er dream-sea Muryamat, 
 Midst orient charms, there dwelt a maid 
 That on the harp of Omar played 
 
 And sang the Rubiayat. 
 
 Her beauty mingled with her song 
 
 That spread dream-like o'er Zephyrus' wing, 
 
 And crimsoned mildly everything, 
 
 As first when Phaeton's chariot 
 Into the new-born skies did fling 
 
 The blush of Roseate. 
 
 The Sylvans combed her raven hair, 
 Long silken strands of night; 
 
 Her eyes — what spirit sparkled there — 
 Her cheeks were ivory white, 
 
 Soft glowing, when the passions rose, 
 Like cheeks of purest snows 
 Flushed with an eastern light. 
 
 As morning once with orient wings 
 
 Unfurled the first of day, 
 While dew still clung to flowers' lips 
 
 And perfumed morning's lay, 
 I found me lingering by her side, 
 
 I heard her softly sing, 
 
 89 
 
1 * Pluck kisses from my ruby lips 
 While bloom and beauty last; 
 Like glories of a passing day 
 Fade away, fade away 
 Into night, 
 Forever. 
 So I pass, naught can delay, 
 For joys ne'er tarry on their way 
 Toward night, 
 Forever. ' ' 
 
 I felt the charm, the wondrous thrill, 
 The fire of heart and soul and will, 
 
 The sudden chill. 
 And long I viewed that bloom and beauty, 
 
 With the soulless thought it clad; 
 I wondered, suddenly turned away, 
 
 Infinitely sad. 
 
 90 
 
THE BROKEN LILY 
 
 They used to stroll thru yon far glen 
 Where dreamy waters flow, 
 
 And Cypress trees with purple shades 
 By water-lilies grow. 
 
 She was a tender blue-eyed girl 
 
 Of light romantic glow. 
 He loved her for her chastity, 
 
 (He often told her so). 
 
 A water-lily pure as snow 
 
 Grows where two lovers stray ; 
 
 1 ' Thy soul is far more pure, ' ' said he, 
 "Why do you turn away?" 
 
 A water-lily white as snow 
 
 Sighs where two lovers tread. 
 
 1 i Thy soul is far more white, ' ' said he, 
 "Why do you bow your head?" 
 
 One night a little girlish form 
 Stole to a moonlit river, 
 
 And broke the lily from its stem, 
 Then disappeared forever. 
 
 At morning came a happy youth 
 
 To greet the lily's sigh, 
 But saw it broken from the stem — 
 
 Long he wondered why. 
 
 91 
 
A MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY 
 
 Bring sunshine, gather flowers and be gay, 
 Give thanks while heaven's blessings o'er us 
 
 sway, 
 For mother is just forty years today. 
 Behold our grateful glow, 
 mother dear, 
 We love you so. 
 
 Ring forth in forty chimes birthday bells, 
 Sweetly betokening the love that swells 
 Our hearts and in our hearts forever dwells. 
 They ring that you may know, 
 
 mother dear, 
 
 We love you so. 
 
 With festive splendor we all honor you, 
 Greetings, sincere, our hearts impart to you, 
 And throbbing, weave a sacred wreath for 
 you. 
 Our only meaning tho, 
 Is mother dear, 
 We love you so. 
 
 92 
 
While tides of tender thoughts within us rear, 
 A little spray, too high, becomes a tear 
 That, trembling, faintly breathes we hold 
 thee dear. 
 Again it breathes, so low, 
 mother dear, 
 We love you so. 
 
 Just forty years, rejoice in merry lore 
 And sing a song, live, live, live forty more, 
 While hearts in silent tones add yet a score. 
 Their souls their trumpets blow, 
 mother dear, 
 We love you so. 
 
 93 
 
HER BIRTHDAY 
 
 September hovered o'er the lay 
 And held the dismal scepter sway, 
 
 Faded the summer's glow; 
 Whilst withered leaves bedecked the earth, 
 A floweret yet was given birth, 
 
 Seventeen years ago. 
 
 Whilst dreary zephyrs mourned the hewn 
 And murmured death-songs o'er the 
 strewn, 
 
 No more the summer's glow; 
 A freshness, soul imbued, arose 
 To smile away their dismal woes, 
 
 Seventeen years ago. 
 
 The autumn sorrows, queenly, swoon; 
 Heavenly rays now pierce the gloom, 
 
 Blessings on thee bestow 
 And angels ' kisses o 'er thee pour 
 As they had kissed thee once before, 
 
 Seventeen years ago. 
 
 94 
 
OLD COLLEGE HALL 
 
 Old College Hall, romantic pioneer 
 Of learning ! Art imbued with lasting lore 
 And memories; art glorious in the store 
 Of many a noble deed that knows no peer, 
 Wrought by the spirit of youth. From year 
 
 to year 
 From out thy halls has poured, and still 
 
 does pour, 
 A mighty tide of men sweeping from shore 
 To shore, the world around, to sway, to rear 
 The grand, continuous march of culture — 
 
 Stand, 
 Long stand, thou walls with clinging ivy 
 
 scanned, 
 Which for a century and years upheld 
 That institution opening to the soul 
 Those treasuries wherein are stored 
 
 unspelled, 
 The great and wondrous powers of its Being. 
 
 95 
 
CHRISTMAS NIGHT 
 
 How still the night, holy night, caressed 
 With slumbering breaths of scented paradise 
 Wafting, divinely swayed, thru human breast 
 
 Raising the fettered soul 
 Nearer the starlight altars of the sky — 
 
 The night of Christmas. 
 
 Immortal chords from mortal bosoms rise 
 In concord trailing visions of the soul ; 
 The twinkling starry main of silenced skies 
 
 Resound the soft refrain, 
 And " Peace on earth good-will towards 
 men,'' extol — 
 
 The night of Christmas. 
 
 What lofty ardor swells in binding ties 
 From heart to heart, and every burden 
 
 spends ; 
 Thy noblest thoughts gleam in thy brother's 
 eyes 
 And finds expression there. 
 How dear our home and hearth, how dear 
 our friends — 
 The night of Christmas. 
 
 96 
 
MIDNIGHT AND THE BRIGHT FULL 
 
 MOON 
 
 Midnight — and the bright full moon 
 Creeps slowly behind a cloud; 
 O'er yonder graveyard's cold, grey stones 
 There steals a dark and gloomy shroud. 
 
 As in a trance, a ghastly thing — 
 Like in the night a foam-crest wave — 
 Looms up and on a bleak, white harp 
 It weirdly chants, "I am the grave." 
 
 "Ye that fear me 
 Come not near me; 
 Come not near 
 If you fear; 
 'Tis the guilt 
 Thou hast spilt 
 O'er thy soul; 
 Purge thy soul. 
 List, I am the key 
 To the eternity." 
 
 97 
 
"Ye that fear not, 
 Ye that rear not, 
 Nor appall 
 At my call, . 
 Here unfold 
 To behold 
 All the glory 
 Of my story. 
 List, I am the key 
 To the eternity.' 9 
 
 98 
 
THE MISER 
 
 I 
 
 The miser, aged and bearded, sat 
 
 By flickering candle-light 
 And fingered gold coins one by one, 
 
 And chuckled with delight. 
 
 And as he viewed his glittering hoard, 
 There came a haunted sound, 
 
 As tho a phantom stirred the winds; 
 The miser stared around. 
 
 II 
 
 1 ' Thou fearful ghost, thou hollow-eyed, 
 Have we not met before? 
 And who art thou, that thou dost enter 
 Thru a bolted door? 
 
 "Would'st steal from me the gold for which 
 I've slaved so many a year? 
 Avaunt, thou evil spirit! 
 
 Thou hast no errand here." 
 
 99 
 
Ill 
 
 "Ha! Ha! thou fool! and what care I 
 For all this golden store; 
 Nay, I have come to take thy soul — 
 Just this, and nothing more. 
 
 "This gold for which thy life was spent, 
 'Twill make a festive day; 
 Come! haste! we dare not tarry now, 
 He's calling us away." 
 
 100 
 
CLASS POEM 
 
 Central High School 
 Class of February, 1914 
 
 Classmates, now have we safely sailed the 
 
 waters of the High School sea, 
 Its bar is crossed and we are moored upon 
 
 its shores of victory, 
 That rise to strand our noble host and from 
 
 whose coral-crested steep, 
 With strained eye and ardent hope we scan 
 
 the boundless worldly deep. 
 
 Now on this strand, with hand in hand, 
 
 behold your fellow, face to face; 
 His whole expression's earnest tone, which 
 
 time and years cannot erase ; 
 And mold it, ne 'er to fade, in memory, where 
 
 then in coming score 
 It shall, in ideal vision, give expression to 
 
 a time no more. 
 
 How soon those years of youth's gay tremor, 
 veiled in crimson, fringed in gold, 
 
 Have pastured on life's budding green and 
 passed into their misty fold! 
 
 Wherein the evening of emotion, when a tran- 
 quil mood sets sail, 
 
 In great display and mellow numbers, o'er 
 and o'er they'll tell their tale. 
 
 101 
 
So breathe warm breaths of recollection, 
 
 melting misty veils of time; 
 View the glowing past and hear the music 
 
 of its distant chime; 
 How it mirrors every scene, and each reflects 
 
 a prophecy — 
 The past is bound up with the future, and 
 
 reflects futurity. 
 
 Those scenes, a little world themselves — who 
 
 mistakes their guiding light? 
 A thousand books known word for word, of 
 
 school, afford not half their might. 
 We hoard them up with miser care, like 
 
 charms in fairy tales of old, 
 That summon from a living inner riches far 
 
 more rich than gold. 
 
 All phases of an earnest life do they reveal 
 
 in mild degree; 
 We marked their first appearance like a 
 
 night watch on a wondrous sea, 
 And oft shall know them all too well in an 
 
 untempered sway again. 
 Yet should you fear? Why should you fear? 
 
 You conquered here to breast their main. 
 
 102 
 
Our trials, our frettings, there portrayed, 
 
 and all our fervent hopes and fears 
 Seek repetition, sharply hewn, of keener 
 
 form in future years; 
 As anvils clang the sinews grow, each time 
 
 they bend a stronger shoe ; 
 Once hast thou won to win again tho "re 
 
 adversus" stronger grew. 
 
 There sweep the waves that sought to wreck 
 
 proud honor on their shameless shoal ; 
 How they echo in the future as through ages 
 
 on they roll ! 
 From shores unseen the songs of Sirens, 
 
 sweet on tempting wings are borne; 
 They, too, will lure in song again, in vain, 
 
 but to be laughed to scorn. 
 
 Now loom the hours that tried the heart and 
 
 burdened heavy every brow, 
 Mere phantoms to discourage and to make 
 
 the boldest spirit cow. 
 Yet from their gliding silence steals again 
 
 the voice that " Onward' ' cried, 
 With "Onward" as a motto there, the gloomy 
 
 sway was swept aside. 
 
 103 
 
When flying time with bat-like wings again 
 enshrouds your inner sight, 
 
 Know 'tis but a passing shadow, cast to make 
 life's joy more bright, 
 
 In those shades there forms the dew to pearl 
 thy path as thou progress, 
 
 Their sparkling gamut murmuring e 'er, ' i On- 
 ward, onward and success." 
 
 Behold there still in fitful dance the spirits 
 
 of every calling glow, 
 Rising each to join its star — in folds their 
 
 trailing glimmer flow 
 And beckon sweetly — follow to the realms 
 
 where myth and fancy perish, 
 Where thou in full reality of thy endowment 
 
 sown, shall flourish. 
 
 And through it all still sounds once more a 
 crimson trumpet's golden strain, 
 
 That scattered lingering shades to clear the 
 way for culture's marching train, 
 
 Those final tones — List! how into low har- 
 mony they blend, 
 
 Echoing and echoing fore'er the wondrous 
 word of friend. 
 
 104 
 
For last days, like fiery breaths of Phoebus 
 
 tinging western skies, 
 Gathering the glory of a passing hour, there 
 
 gave rise 
 To waking of that finer sense, that incense 
 
 breathed by friendship's lay, 
 For friendship prompted every heart — now 
 
 friendship holds the scepter sway. 
 
 Who dares to leave these fostering walls that 
 
 has no binding friendship made; 
 Though steeped in honored depths of study, 
 
 poorly, poorly he's repaid, 
 His bosom, like a starless sky, is unknown to 
 
 a higher birth, 
 The cozy ardor of the breast, the warmth so 
 
 priceless in its worth. 
 
 But now, gone are the High School days, the 
 
 friends, and with each passing year, 
 That time in ceaseless flight unrolls, those 
 
 days shall ever grow more dear; 
 Locked in time's increasing chambered space 
 
 to which there is no key, 
 They shall remain as precious gems set 
 
 deeply in our memory. 
 
 105 
 
We leave thy peaceful walks, dear school, to 
 
 join the whirling stream of life; 
 To guard its posts, augment its welfare, and 
 
 be leaders in the strife; 
 To raise the worldly pedestal, to elevate the 
 
 human seat, 
 Ever mindful of the proverb, ' ' As thou sow- 
 
 est thou shalt reap." 
 
 So let us strive, that having striven, we '11 be 
 
 worthy of her name ; 
 Win for her respect in others, bring her 
 
 honor, spread her fame. 
 Dear old old High School — Alma Mater — 
 
 thou whose motto is excel, 
 From their innermost recesses, loyal sons 
 
 bid thee farewell. 
 
 106 
 
CLASS POEM 
 
 Univebsity of Pennsylvania 
 Class of June, 1917 
 
 I 
 
 0, the winds of the east and the winds of the 
 west, 
 
 They blow from the ends of the earth ; 
 In the merriest weather they blew us together 
 
 In the weather of laughter and mirth. 
 
 II 
 
 For we're all just good fellows who love the 
 wide world, 
 Good fellows, high hearted and true, 
 Who've gathered once more in farewell to 
 old Penn 
 And the dear old Red and Blue. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Now the sailor who sails by the north star, 
 
 He loves to tell of the sea; 
 And the hunter who roves o'er the Ozark, 
 
 Has a story of liberty. 
 
 So, like the sailor and hunter, 
 
 We, too, have a story to tell — 
 
 Old Penn, happy days and bright faces, 
 And the comrades we loved so well. 
 
 107 
 
IV 
 
 We have fought on the gridiron many a fight 
 To make old Penn renowned, 
 
 That her proud name in honor and fame 
 O'er land and sea resound. 
 
 When the scores were tie and the goal was 
 nigh 
 While cheers rose wild and free, 
 We have fought with a will that is more than 
 strength 
 To bring her victory. 
 
 Her banners weVe raised and unfurled on 
 high 
 
 With many a rousing song ; 
 With huge bonfires and snake dance wild 
 
 We Ve pledged them our faith full strong. 
 
 Full oft have we marched them thru old 
 Philly town 
 
 While drums and bugles were loud ; 
 Her banners are old, her banners are famed ; 
 
 We have done our part and are proud. 
 
 And then for the cozy nooks and haunts 
 Where the hours were merry with funs, 
 
 Where we've talked full wise and have 
 criticized 
 The way the old world runs. 
 
 108 
 
Affairs of the state and problems of love, 
 
 Life's mysteries and fates; 
 You see 'twas all wrong till we came along 
 
 And settled it in our debates. 
 
 Then too, when the sun o'er the campus was 
 setting 
 With beauty and calm and rest, 
 We sang old songs and dreamed proud 
 dreams 
 In the crimson skies of the west. 
 
 'Twas here in our songs and our dreams and 
 our hopes 
 
 We found a comrade or two; 
 And all that is great in the great, wide world, 
 
 Is a comrade that's loyal and true; 
 0, all that is great in the wide, wide world, 
 
 Is a comrade that's strong and true. 
 
 V 
 
 But soon 'twill all fade like a fairy tale vision 
 Of laughter and song and glory ; 
 
 How may we bestow the great debt that we 
 owe 
 This vision — this happy story? 
 
 0, not in the good wishes, and not in fine 
 words, 
 
 But just in the life that each leads; 
 So, for this our life, we have builded a creed, 
 
 And here is the way that it reads : 
 
 109 
 
VI 
 
 To walk in the light that's within us, 
 Each one in his separate plan; 
 
 With courage and freedom, with justice and 
 kindness, 
 Each doing the best that he can 
 
 To the glory of God his creator 
 
 And the good of his fellow-man. 
 
 That the world be a summer dwelling, 
 With a rainbow o'er land and sea, 
 
 Where the hearts of men shall be happy, 
 And the hearts of men shall be free, 
 
 As once in the golden ages 
 
 God dreamed that it all should be 
 
 VII 
 
 This to thee, dear Pennsylvania, 
 
 To be worthy of thy name ; 
 This to thee, proud Alma Mater, 
 
 To thy honor and thy fame; 
 Dear old Penn, proud Alma Mater, 
 
 Great in honor and in fame. 
 
 no 
 
THE TRAVELER 
 
THE TRAVELER 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 Sunset: among the Alps. Someone is singing) 
 the tones draw nearer and become more distinct. 
 
 Song 
 Thy cheeks have the passion of sunset, 
 Wild beauty lurks deep in thine eyes. 
 I look upon thee — 
 Sweet surprise! 
 I look upon thee 
 Ah, me! 
 See, my spirit is lost in love. 
 
 Thy rich, raven tresses are chasing 
 The laughter that lurks in thine eyes. 
 I would' I could flee — 
 
 Sweet surprise! 
 I would I could flee — 
 Ah, me! 
 See, my spirit is lost in love. 
 
 Enter a traveler and a guide. The traveler 
 is a tall, handsome man, about thirty-six years 
 of age. His face is olive complexioned and 
 smooth, and a faint smile seems to hover con- 
 stantly about his lips. His movements are grace- 
 ful and easy. The guide is a smaller man with 
 weatherbeaten features, kindly eyes, and un- 
 kempt mustache. 
 
 113 
 
Guide 
 
 Singing all the time ! 
 
 Traveler 
 
 And why not? You see, song makes me free. 
 Song is the glorious liberator of the world 
 From all the pains of sorrow and joy. 
 
 Guide 
 
 You certainly seem free; 
 Have you traveled much! 
 
 Traveler 
 
 Over all the East, far into the East, 
 
 Where much of the world has a fantastic soul ; 
 
 A soul steeped in mystical delights; 
 
 A soul that revels in rich dreams of canopied 
 
 vineyards, 
 And the graceful, yielding form — woman. 
 
 (Looking toward the west.) 
 
 What a weird sunset ! Such a grim and gloomy 
 red! 
 
 Guide 
 
 I think a storm is coming up. 
 
 Traveler 
 
 A storm ! Devil take it ! 
 
 And I wanted to see this part of the Alps by 
 moonlight ! 
 
 114 
 
Guide 
 
 Perhaps you will anyhow ; 
 
 ,r Tis probably only a passing thunderstorm. 
 
 I have often seen thunderstorm and moonlight 
 
 At one and the same time up here. 
 
 Traveler 
 
 That's true. I recall one such occurrence in 
 
 particular. 
 But far from here, yet not so far. (chuckles) 
 That was a night ! Hm ! 
 Twelve — no, let me see — fifteen years ago. 
 Whew ! how time does fly ! 
 
 Guide 
 
 Did it cause much havoc ? 
 
 Traveler (half to himself) 
 
 A wonderful creature, she! Wonderful! 
 
 Full of the laughing glory of life, 
 
 The color and music and sparkle, 
 
 The kind which God breathes forth in an hour 
 
 of delight. 
 
 (Smiles; turns toward the west.) 
 
 Look how that dull red is coloring the whole sky ! 
 
 I've seen many a sunset in many a clime — 
 
 Over the desert when the Arab prays 
 
 And bows toward Mecca ; 
 
 Over the Red sea after a sultry day — 
 
 But nothing like that. 
 
 Guide 
 
 I imagine this creature and you made a fine 
 romance. 
 
 115 
 
Traveler (laughing) 
 
 The romance came later — (more serious) 
 
 You see my friend, it was she 
 
 Who made a traveler of me — 
 
 Or rather (with a bitter chuckle) it was he. 
 
 Guide 
 He! 
 
 Traveler 
 
 Her spouse — the fool! 
 
 Guide (gives a low whistle) 
 
 Oh, ho ! I see ! 
 
 But just how did he make a traveler of you? 
 
 Traveler 
 
 By taking her life away. 
 
 Guide 
 
 Her life ! Ye gods ! 
 
 Traveler 
 
 Like this, see! (puts his finger to his throat) 
 
 Guide 
 
 By the Great Horn ! But what — ! How — ! 
 
 Traveler (smiling) 
 
 Sometimes it all flashes before me 
 As tho it had been yesterday — but yesterday. 
 We had spent the afternoon in the garden, 
 Beautiful place — flowers, fountains, fauns — 
 And during sunset we lingered in the portico. 
 When the storm came up we went into the house 
 
 116 
 
And sat upon the divan by the latticed window — 
 
 That old window where we sat so often ; 
 
 We watched the moon creep in and out the clouds 
 
 And listened to the distinct rumbling of thunder, 
 
 And I sang a low, sweet song, the selfsame 
 
 Which I have just been singing — 
 
 Hm! Then came that sudden and fearful 
 
 thunder-crash ! 
 Then he standing in the doorway 
 And she, crouching in the corner, 
 Her hair all down, and the moon, the great, 
 
 white moon 
 
 Full upon her 
 
 God ! I can see it all as tho it were happening 
 
 again ; 
 I can see him moving slowly toward her 
 
 Across the room 
 
 (He stares vividly before him. His features 
 become hard and constrained, and a slight 
 twitching passes over them. They relax again; 
 he gives a sigh of relief and laughs to himself. 
 Looking toward the west.) 
 
 Wonderful, how that streak of scarlet is breaking 
 
 thru! 
 Like a sudden flash of fire ! 
 
 Guide 
 
 What became of him. 
 
 Traveler 
 
 Nobody knows. 
 
 He disappeared, and took with him his only 
 
 child. 
 She was but a few years old. 
 
 117 
 
Nobody has ever heard of him since, 
 
 Poor wretch! I suppose he's dead long ago. 
 
 Come! let's be on our way. We want to reach 
 
 the top 
 
 Of yonder peak before dark. 
 
 (Goes off wMstling a low tune. The guide, 
 shaking Ms head, slowly follows.) 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 The living-room of a cottage in the Alps. In 
 the back is a large fire-place, and on each side of 
 this is a door. To the right is a large window 
 and another door which opens into a forest. 
 Almost in the center of the room is a wooden 
 table which has evidently been made by hand. 
 Several crude chairs are standing about. 
 
 Upon the mantel-piece, over the fire-place, 
 stands a cuckoo-clock and several grotesque 
 figures of animals, carved out of wood, The 
 walls are adorned with various antique trappings, 
 sabers, daggers, buckles, furs of wild animals, 
 guns, antlers of deer, etc. 
 
 It is night-time. Upon the table burns a 
 small lamp which casts a dim light about the 
 room. Seated by the lamp is a man, over middle 
 age, yet robust and strong, with rugged features 
 and a great blonde beard. He is known as Osric. 
 Upon a little stool at his feet is seated a young 
 girl perhaps seventeen years of age, very pretty, 
 with bright brown eyes and rich brown hair flow- 
 ing in heavy curls about her shoulders. He calls 
 her Silvia. 
 
 118 
 
Osric (reading from a hook) 
 
 Thereupon the prince married Griselle 
 And built a great castle by the sea. 
 He surrounded it with beautiful gardens 
 Wherein grew only roses, red and white roses. 
 Here they lived happy ever after. 
 
 (Closes the book and lays it upon the table.) 
 There, my darling! Our story is ended. 
 
 Silvia 
 
 But father, what becomes of poor little Minsette. 
 
 Osric 
 
 Little Minsette? Don't you remember how she 
 
 was lost 
 In the great snow-storm and never found again ? 
 
 Silvia 
 
 Yes, but was she really never found again. 
 
 Osric 
 Never. 
 
 Silvia 
 
 Ah ! poor little Minsette ! 
 
 Osric 
 
 Why ! I do believe you have tears in your eyes ! 
 (laughing) 
 
 Come, my darling ! 
 
 How very sweet and foolish you are! 
 
 Come! it is bed-time. 
 
 119 
 
Silvia (pleading) 
 
 Father, do read another story, just one more. 
 
 Osric 
 
 The next story is too long for tonight. 
 
 (Takes up the book and counts the pages.) 
 
 Yes, it is too long. Well read it tomorrow night. 
 It is the story of Rapunzel with the golden hair — 
 Hair which was so long, 
 That it reached from the top of a high tower to 
 
 the ground. 
 Each evening a prince would come 
 And climb to the top of the tower upon it 
 And visit her. 
 
 Silvia (eagerly) 
 
 And what happened then? 
 
 Osric (laughing) 
 
 Come, my pretty one! His bed-time. 
 
 (He smooths her hair and fondly caresses her. 
 She rises and goes slowly toward the door to the 
 left.) 
 
 Osric 
 
 And are you not going to kiss me good-night t 
 
 Silvia 
 
 I'll be back, (disappears) 
 
 Osric (smiling and brushing a tear from his 
 
 eyes) 
 
 Sweet little creature ! 
 
 (He becomes lost in meditation. Suddenly, a 
 distant singing breaks thru the stillness of the 
 
 120 
 
night. It is the song of the traveler. Osric 
 rises slowly and strangely from his chair, and 
 stares before him in an attitude of strained at- 
 tention. He trembles slightly, then straightens 
 up as to contain himself. Then he hastens 
 quickly to the window and listens; he goes to 
 the door, opens it, and disappears into the dark- 
 ness. The singing ceases. After a few moments 
 he returns again into the room, wipes his brow, 
 and drops into his chair and becomes once more 
 steeped in r every.) 
 
 Silvia, dressed in her night-gown, comes in 
 and steals softly over to him, puts her hands 
 over his eyes and kisses him. 
 
 Silvia (softly) 
 
 Goodnight father. 
 
 (She is about to run off again, but he catches 
 her by the arm, and begins to stare pecu- 
 liarly at her. Silvia, half frightened, lets her- 
 self down at his feet. His stare becomes more 
 and more intense.) 
 
 Silvia 
 Why, father ! 
 
 Osric (taking her head in his hands and slowly 
 leaning toward her.) 
 
 The eyes! The hair! The very face! (a low 
 moan) 
 
 Silvia 
 
 Father! Father! (begins to tremble and sob) 
 
 121 
 
Osric (rousing himself from his trance he sud- 
 denly snatches her into his arms, presses her 
 convulsively to his breast and kisses her 
 many times.) 
 
 There, my child! My sweet one! My lovely 
 one! 
 (Looks at her again and laughs.) 
 
 Ah ! what a foolish fancy ! What a foolish fancy ! 
 (Smoothing her hair.) 
 
 Aye foolish! 
 
 There now, to bed my little daughter 
 
 And sleep snugly till morning sun peeps in 
 
 And laughs upon her and wakes her up again. 
 
 Silvia 
 
 Are you not coming also ? 
 
 Osric 
 Later. 
 
 Silvia 
 
 Why do you not come now? I wish you would 
 father. 
 
 Osric 
 
 But why, my child ? 
 
 Silvia 
 
 I do not know. 
 
 Osric 
 
 Come! don't be foolish. 
 
 See, I shall stay up and watch over you. 
 
 122 
 
(Silvia rises and goes toward the door; she 
 hesitates and runs back to him again and 
 huddles closely to him.) 
 
 Silvia 
 
 Father, I — I am afraid. 
 
 Osric 
 
 Afraid? Afraid of what, my child? 
 
 Silvia 
 
 I do not know. 
 
 (She carefully avoids looking him in the 
 face) 
 
 Osric 
 
 Come! Come! You are only afraid that you 
 will dream evil dreams like you did the 
 other night. 
 
 No, no ! See, I will watch over you. (kisses her) 
 
 There ! 
 
 (She rises, makes a few steps, but once more 
 returns and buries her face at his breast.) 
 
 Silvia 
 Father ! 
 
 Osric 
 
 Silvia ! I do not understand ! 
 
 Come ! have you done something that you should 
 
 not have done ? 
 
 (Silvia shakes her head in denial. He goes to 
 take her face in his hands, but she hastily 
 kisses him and this time hurries off thru the 
 door and into her chamber. Osric is tempted to 
 follow her but remains seated.) 
 
 123 
 
OSRIC 
 
 I wonder what could give her fear? Fear of 
 what? 
 
 It must have been my foolishness. 
 
 Ah ! what a weird idea that was ! 
 
 And yet, for a moment she was her very pic- 
 ture — 
 
 Eyes, hair, features, all. 
 
 I had never marked it before — never. 
 
 Oh, God! forbid that that should ever be! 
 
 (impatiently) 
 
 Ah, nonsense! It's all nonsense. 
 
 (Takes up the hook and tries to read, but 
 soon lays it aside again.) 
 
 And that singing! It was that cursed singing 
 
 Like a phantom escaped from the forgotten past 
 
 And haunting the night. 
 
 Hm ! If it could really have been— 
 
 Ah, nonsense ! I must be dreaming ! 
 
 Dreaming. Hm ! Dreaming. 
 
 (He gets up and walks restlessly to and fro, 
 then sits down again and becomes lost in 
 thought. After a little while he suddenly rises 
 again, lights a candle and goes into Silvia's 
 room. He closes the door behind him. Silence. 
 Far off, the gradual rumbling of thunder is 
 heard. Then the wind begins to bloiv, becom- 
 ing louder and louder. Slowly it dies down. 
 There is silence once more. Then, far, far 
 away, but singularly clear, the song of the 
 traveler is heard. Osric comes rushing in and 
 makes for the door that leads into the forest. 
 
 124 
 
Me opens it and disappears into the darkness. 
 A moment later, Silvia comes in, excited and 
 trembling.) 
 
 Silvia 
 
 Father! Father! Where are you going? 
 Father ! What are you doing ? 
 Where are you? Oh! I am afraid. 
 
 (She closes the door and moves trembling about 
 the room. Every least sound distracts her. 
 She stands motionless and listens. The distant 
 song dies away and all becomes silent again.) 
 
 Silvia 
 
 I wonder who was singing — I wonder — 
 Oh ! I feel so strange — oh, so strange ! 
 I wish I could hide or run away — 
 But where ? 
 I wish father would come back ! 
 
 (A murmuring of the wind outside.) 
 
 No ! no ! no ! Not yet ! 
 Oh, father ! Not yet ! 
 Oh! 
 
 (She sinks to her knees by the table and sobs. 
 The wind begins to blow again — louder and 
 louder. There is a sudden streak of lightning 
 and a thundercrash. Osric appears in the 
 doorway. The wind, coming in, upsets the 
 lamp and for several moments all is steeped in 
 darkness. Then a beam of moonlight streams 
 thru the window and reveals Silvia, crouching 
 and terrified. The figure of Osric is seen 
 slowly to approach her. As he draws nearer, 
 the moonbeam disappears — there is heard a 
 
 125 
 
quick and sharp cry which is immediately 
 muffled and silenced. After a short space of 
 time, Osric can be seen groping about in the 
 dark room. He is looking for the lamp. He 
 lights it, kneels and holds it over the prostrate 
 body of his daughter. He gazes at her long and 
 steadily. Slowly he puts the lamp aside and 
 gathers her into his arms. A groan of deepest 
 despair escapes him.) 
 
 126 
 
THE FLUTE 
 
THE FLUTE 
 
 An open place in a large forest. A youth, 
 happy and gay, comes in carelessly, spies a little 
 yellow bird on one of the trees, stops and whistles 
 to it. Then he takes his flute and begins to play 
 a tune. While playing, a group of twelve young 
 girls, dressed in veils, break forth from the 
 forest. The veils are large and flowing, and vary 
 in color, the different shades of red, blue, yellow 
 and green. They begin to dance about him in a 
 great circle. One of them gets within the circle 
 and leads the dance and sings a song. The rest 
 all join in the chorus. Then another one takes 
 her place and leads and sings. Thus it continues 
 until all have been once within the circle. The 
 dance constantly varies with the nature of the 
 song. 
 
 Youth 
 
 What a wealth of beauty and grace ; 
 
 What a mystery of music and color. 
 
 Surely I have come upon the abodes 
 
 Where fairy-tales are shaped, 
 
 Or upon the secret gardens 
 
 Of an ancient god. 
 
 (One of the maidens veiled in crimson, and 
 distinguished by a small red band about her 
 hair, and a dragon-flower in her hand, ap- 
 proaches him.) 
 
 Maiden 
 
 We are the daughters of ecstatic fires ; 
 The daughters of the moments of glory and 
 triumph. 
 
 129 
 
Youth 
 
 I love your music and grace and flowing veils. 
 
 Maiden 
 
 These only do you love. 
 
 Youth 
 
 I love the laughter of your eyes, 
 And the rose of your cheeks. 
 
 Maiden 
 
 These, and nothing more T 
 
 Youth 
 
 I understand you not. 
 
 Maiden 
 
 (Suddenly Icisses him while all the others 
 assume enhancing poses.) 
 
 Youth (taken aback) 
 Ah! 
 
 (He looks slowly about him with wonder and 
 amazement.) 
 
 Maiden {coyly) 
 
 Come with us to our abodes 
 
 In the deep and silent twilight of the forest. 
 
 Come! 
 
 (She begins to dance about him, luring him 
 along, but always just evading him. As she is 
 about to lead him from the ring, he stops short 
 and stands motionless, his head raised and his 
 eyes closed.) 
 
 130 
 
Maiden 
 
 Youth of the spirit of mirth and joy, 
 
 Say what has come over thee, 
 
 For thy face is solemn and grave 
 
 Like the autumn of the forests, 
 
 And the plaintive winds touch lightly thy hair. 
 
 Youth 
 
 I dare not linger longer ; 
 I must depart in haste. 
 
 Maiden 
 So soon? 
 
 Youth 
 
 Even so soon. 
 
 I am burning unholy 
 
 And my spirit is writhing in pain. 
 
 Maiden 
 
 'Tis I that understand thee not. 
 
 Youth 
 
 My spirit is proud and free 
 And cries out to me 
 Lest it become thy slave. 
 
 Maiden 
 
 It shall become more free 
 
 Than the wanton winds 
 
 That spread the pollen of the blossoms of spring. 
 
 131 
 
Youth 
 
 Even in this, thy freedom, is it a slave. 
 You understand not, and I must go. 
 
 (She stands in his way and puckers her mouth, 
 inviting a Jciss. Ee hesitates a moment, then 
 bends and kisses her.) 
 
 Youth 
 
 There! One quick embrace, one kiss, 
 Will do no harm. 
 Farewell, and farewell to you all 
 Bright daughters of the flowing veils. 
 
 (He goes to depart, but as he nears the outside 
 of the ring, he starts back suddenly as tho 
 struck in the face by some unseen thing. 
 He makes several more attempts, but each time 
 is likewise rebuffed. With each attempt a 
 trickle of laughter is heard from all the maidens 
 in the ring.) 
 
 Youth 
 
 I am surrounded by a ring of magic ; 
 I am surrounded by sorcery ; 
 I am captive and cannot flee. 
 
 Maiden 
 
 Even in your own kiss have you bound yourself. 
 
 Youth 
 
 You are all witches of evil. 
 
 Maiden (coyly) 
 
 Come with us to the silence and sweetness 
 Of the deep twilight of the forest. 
 
 132 
 
Youth 
 I hate you. 
 
 Maiden 
 
 Come, give us your flute 
 
 Whereupon you make sweet and luring music, 
 
 And you may go. 
 
 Youth 
 
 Ah ! I love it well and have made 
 Music upon it thru many an hour, 
 Yet, to set my proud spirit free 
 I will give it to thee. 
 
 (He is about to give it to her when one of the 
 maidens — the smallest one, with brown curly 
 hair and soft eyes, flutters between them and 
 checks him.) 
 
 Second Maiden 
 
 Do not give it away ! Do not give it away ! 
 For herein rests the secret of your liberty. 
 Play music the sweetest and softest — 
 And even in the beauty of your art 
 Shall the charm that holds your spirit 
 Be dispelled. 
 
 (Silently and modestly she steals away and dis- 
 appears into the forest. A deep murmur of 
 disapproval arises from all the rest, and they 
 look after her with scornful faces. 
 
 The youth begins to play upon his flute. 
 During the music the maidens set up a low 
 moaning and wave their veils slowly as tho 
 in pain. Then they recede slowly and disappear 
 into the forest. When he ceases playing he 
 finds himself alone.) 
 
 133 
 
Youth (laughing gaily) 
 
 You have all disappeared, you pretty witches, 
 
 A.nd my spirit is laughing with joy. 
 
 Yo ho ! for the mountains ! 
 
 Where the winds blow free 
 
 And the sun is golden. 
 
 (He is about to go, when the little maiden with 
 the curly hair and soft eyes, emerges shyly from 
 the forest and stands before him, her head 
 bowed in shame,) 
 
 Youth 
 
 Sweet creature, I would I could thank thee 
 
 For thy goodness. 
 
 Thou art so sweet and kind. 
 
 Ah ! even as I behold thee 
 
 Mine eyes are strangely dimmed with tears. 
 
 Thou art sad ? 
 
 Second Maiden (simply) 
 
 I love you 
 
 And my love is true. 
 
 Youth (kissing her forehead) 
 
 Come ! You and I shall wander together. 
 We shall wander and dwell and sleep together 
 In love and faith. 
 
 Come, we shall go unto the mountains, 
 High in the windy mountains 
 Yo ho ! for the mountains. 
 (They go off.) 
 
 134 
 
TILLY AND PLUCK 
 
TILLY AND PLUCK 
 
 SCENE 
 
 A hillside in the open country. Pluck, a cow- 
 herd, is stretched out upon some green turf and 
 is sleeping. His head rests comfortably upon a 
 small green mound, and his mouth is wide open. 
 Beside him lies his staff. 
 
 Tilly comes skipping in, stops short before the 
 sleeping Pluck, and holds her finger mischiev- 
 ously before her puckered mouth. She takes a 
 blade of grass and begins to tickle Pluck's ears, 
 first one, then the other. Each time Pluck gives 
 a low grunt, makes an aimless pass with the hand 
 and turns his head to the other side. Finally, 
 Tilly takes a handful of grass and stuffs it into 
 his mouth. Pluck awakes with a start, splutters, 
 and makes wry faces, while Tilly, laughing, 
 dances about and pokes fun at him. Suddenly 
 he darts after her, catches her by the arm and 
 makes her sit down beside him on the mound. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 There now, you little cricket! Be good! Ugh! 
 What an awful taste in my mouth ! 
 
 Tilly 
 
 That's what you get for being so lazy; doing 
 nothing but dreaming and sleeping all day ! 
 
 137 
 
Pluck 
 
 Hm ! as tho you do so much ! All the time hiding 
 in the barn and reading those old stories 
 about people and things that never was ! 
 
 Oh, I know you ! 
 
 Tilly (enthusiastically) 
 
 Oh, Pluck! I've just finished an exciting story 
 about a princess and a knight. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 What's a knight? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Why you silly! He's a brave man who wears 
 a fine red plume, and rides around on a 
 snorting horse, and saves ladies. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 What does he save them from ? 
 
 Tilly (impatiently) 
 Oh! 
 
 Pluck 
 0— oh ! 
 
 Tilly (plaintively) 
 
 I wish I could be a princess, and had silk dresses 
 and had a brave knight for a lover. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 A knight for a lover ? 
 
 138 
 
Tilly 
 
 I know! I must be a princess and you must be 
 my knight. 
 
 Pluck 
 Me? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Why yes. Wouldn't you like to be a knight? 
 
 Pluck 
 
 And your lover? 
 
 (Ee moves closer to her and tries to put his 
 arm around her waist. But Tilly moves away 
 deftly and holds up her finger in reproof.) 
 
 Tilly 
 
 1. Now ! You must remember you are a knight, 
 and that's not the way a knight makes love. 
 
 First, you must make a low bow, and then you 
 must get down on your one knee. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Oh, but I can't. 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Yes, you can. Now make a low bow. 
 
 Pluck (makes a clumsy effort to bow) 
 
 Tilly (laughingly) 
 
 Oh, but not as tho you had a stomach ache! 
 
 Pluck (pouting) 
 
 I don 't like this being a knight ! 
 
 139 
 
Tilly 
 
 Yes, you do. Now get down on your one knee. 
 
 Pluck (throws himself on his one knee.) 
 
 Tilly (satisfied) 
 There ! 
 
 Pluck 
 
 And now, what shall I do? 
 
 Tilly (amused at the poor, awkward Pluck, she 
 
 bursts into laughter.) 
 Really, Pluck ! you do look so funny ! 
 
 Pluck 
 
 (Gets up angrily and struts like a peevish boy. 
 Then suddenly) 
 
 I'm not going to be a knight anymore. 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Yes you are. Now Pluck, be a good boy! 
 
 Be a real good boy, or I won't like you anymore. 
 
 Come! now I'm your princess. (Coy and 
 
 coaxing) Pluck! 
 
 Pluck 
 
 (Reluctantly gets down on his one knee again.) 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Oh, but you're getting to be so dainty, Pluck! 
 
 (Pluck frowns. Tilly takes his face in her 
 hands and begins to laugh again.) 
 
 140 
 
Why, Pluck! Your face looks like the big 
 wrinkly wart on my master's hand. 
 
 (At first Pluck feels insulted, but in spite of 
 himself he joins in with Tilly's laughter. Then, 
 puckering his lips, he reaches to kiss her, but 
 Tilly holds up her finger in warning.) 
 
 Tilly 
 
 2. Now! That's not the way a knight makes love 
 to a princess. You must take my hand like 
 this, and kiss only my hand. There! 
 
 Pluck 
 Your hand? 
 
 Tilly (pretentiously) 
 My hand. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 (He goes to kiss her hand but as he brings it 
 near his lips he draws back with a wry face.) 
 
 Ugh ! You must have just been churning butter 
 or mixing sour milk for the master. 
 
 Tilly (indignant and scornful) 
 
 Is that so ! Hm ! My hands aren't good enough 
 for you ! 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Now Tilly, be a good girl! Be a real good girl 
 or I won't like you anymore. 
 
 Tilly (sneers and makes faces at him) 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Oh ! how be-a-u-tiful you do look ! 
 
 141 
 
Tilly (smacking him on the face) 
 There, you saucy wart ! 
 
 Pluck (rubs his cheek and sulks) 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Ah! I didn't mean to make it quite so hard. 
 (Pats his cheek.) There! That will make 
 it all right again. 
 
 (Both laugh, and dance in a ring. Then Pluck 
 sits down again and tries to pull Tilly down 
 upon his lap, but she holds up her finger warn- 
 ingly.) 
 
 Tilly 
 
 3. Now ! That's not the way a knight makes love 
 to a princess. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Oh, let's forget knights. They don't know how 
 to make love anyhow, and what's more, I'm 
 tired of being one. 
 
 Telly 
 Oh, no ! 
 
 Pluck 
 Oh, yes! 
 
 Tilly (emphatically) 
 I say no ! So, there ! 
 
 Pluck (fretfully) 
 
 But I 'm not going to get down on one knee any- 
 more. 
 
 142 
 
Tilly 
 
 I didn't say you should. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Well, what do knights do when they become more 
 — I mean when they fall in love. 
 
 Tilly (with sudden thought) 
 They get down on two knees. 
 
 Pluck (stupefied) 
 On two ! 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Urn! — hum! That is if you want to become 
 more — I mean if you are falling more in 
 love. 
 
 (Pluck pouts, then throws himself on his Tcnees. 
 Tilly laughs to herself and Pluck frowns.) 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Oh, Pluck! we almost forgot something. We 
 almost forgot the rival. You see knights 
 have rivals and you should have one too. 
 
 It's so much more exciting. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 What are rivals ? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 They are two men who fight with swords and try 
 to kill each other — anyhow, they are sup- 
 posed to try to kill each other. 
 
 143 
 
Pluck (scratching his head perplexedly) 
 Hm! 
 
 Tilly 
 
 You see, they are in love with the same lady. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 But to think that there are so many others to be 
 had ! 
 
 Tilly 
 
 4. Oh, but that's not the way a knight makes 
 
 love. 
 Now when they fight, the princess, or as the 
 
 book says, the poor damosel — 
 
 Pluck 
 
 The poor what? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 The poor damosel — oh, you don't understand! 
 
 Now when they fight, she weeps and prays and 
 trys to stop them and save their lives. 
 
 But they push her aside and keep on fighting to 
 the bitter end. Then the one that wins, gets 
 the princess and they live happy ever after. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Live happy ever after? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Urn — hum! Really Pluck, you must look for a 
 rival. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 But suppose I'm the one that gets killed? 
 
 144 
 
Tilly 
 
 Oh! that would just be right! You see, then 
 I could bend over you and be heartbroken 
 and weep, and at night, when the moon 
 would shine, I could come to your grave and 
 sigh like Princess Willowfan. Oh, she could 
 sigh so beau-tiful. (Tilly sighs, Pluck 
 sighs.) Why what's the trouble, Pluck? 
 
 Pluck 
 
 I — I don't know. I sort of feel funny. 
 
 Tilly (pretentiously) 
 
 When you're a knight, you should learn to hide 
 your feelings. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Well, what shall I do ? Bury my face ? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Anyhow, that would make you look better. But 
 let me see, who would make a good rival ? 
 
 Pluck 
 
 But if I shouldn't get killed, I might win — 
 what then ? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 I suppose we would have to live happy ever after. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 I suppose we would. 
 
 Tilly 
 
 But that wouldn't be at all exciting. 
 
 145 
 
Pluck (rubbing his cheek) 
 I don't know about that. 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Oh! you don't know anything! 
 
 Pluck 
 
 I wish we could live happy ever after without 
 this stuff about rivals. And I don't see why 
 we couldn't if your father wouldn't be so — 
 if he were a little more — well, not quite so 
 rough about it. 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Now you know, they say when father's rough, 
 he's in a good humor. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Well, I don't like that kind of humor. You 
 remember when we were at the festival and 
 he came and grabbed me by the hair and 
 tickled me under the chin with a cane, and 
 then — (rubbing his head) — well you know. 
 
 Tilly (sympathetically) 
 
 Yes, and after the cane was broken, he used his 
 foot. Now you see if we were princesses 
 and knights we wouldn't have to care about 
 father. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 Well, don't they have a father? 
 
 146 
 
Tilly 
 
 5. Yes, but they don't seem to trouble about him. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 But suppose he troubles about them? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Oh, he just doesn't. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 But suppose just once that he should trouble, 
 
 and get rough and do with them as he does 
 
 with us. 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Oh, well, then they have what they call a ro- 
 mance. At night, when the moon is shining, 
 they meet each other in some mysterious 
 place and then run away and get married. 
 
 Pluck 
 
 {Struck with a sudden thought and leaning 
 close to Tilly.) 
 
 Why can't we make love like the knights and 
 have a romance? 
 
 Tilly 
 
 Why can't we? 
 
 Pluck 
 Lets. 
 
 Tilly 
 
 6. Lets. 
 
 (They dance about happily and go off.) 
 CURTAIN 
 
 147 
 
THE SHADOW-GRAPH 
 
 If the shadow-graph is used, the following 
 scenes will he inserted at the places denoted 
 respectively by the numbers. 
 
 1. 
 
 A knight puts his arm around a princess. 
 
 2. 
 
 The knight kisses the princess. 
 
 3. 
 
 The princess sits down upon the knee of the 
 courtier. 
 
 4. 
 
 The princess is seated between two knights. 
 All three are engaged in merry conversation. 
 
 5. 
 
 The princess and the knight. The father of 
 the princess appears and the knight steals away. 
 
 6. 
 
 The knight and the princess dance around 
 gracefully and disappear. 
 
 148 
 
DAVID AND NATHAN 
 
DAVID AND NATHAN 
 
 Scene I 
 
 A room in the house of David. The walls are 
 covered with purple tapestries which are 
 trimmed with gold borders. In the back, at the 
 center, is a large doorway, and on each side of 
 this are two long, narrow windows. When the 
 tapestry is drawn aside from the doorway, a 
 considerable view of the center of the court is 
 obtained. Here, a small artificial pond, shaded 
 by several citron trees, is visible. 
 
 On the right side of the room is a large stone 
 seat elevated upon a platform of several succes- 
 sive steps. The platform is covered with a 
 purple mg. David is resting comfortably in the 
 seat. At his feet, a young musician is making 
 music upon a harp. The music ceases. 
 
 David 
 
 Truly thou hast played it well ; 
 
 And if thy music, at this evening's festival 
 
 Should be as sweet and luring 
 
 I shall be pleased indeed. 
 
 Nor forget what I have told thee : 
 
 When the first wines are being served, 
 
 Thou shalt kneel at the foot of Bathsheba 
 
 And play this song ; 
 
 Thou shalt mingle with the tones of the harp 
 
 Thine own gentle voice. 
 
 And if she bow her head as when the soul 
 
 151 
 
Is touched with sweet emotion, 
 I shall fill thy pockets with gold. 
 
 Zepho 
 
 Master, I shall do my best. 
 
 But there is a grievous fault in the harp, 
 
 For here, where the music groweth sweetest, 
 
 Several strings are loosened; 
 
 And since they are much worn with use, 
 
 I fear to tighten them, lest one should break. 
 
 David 
 
 It were indeed a sorry jest, if at the word of love, 
 
 A harp -string would be rent in two, 
 
 And all the music suddenly would grow dis- 
 cordant. 
 
 Let Raamah give thee mine own soft harp ; 
 
 And use it well, that no harm shall befall it, 
 
 For there is not another one in all Israel 
 
 That yields so sweetly to the touch, so passion- 
 ately. 
 
 (Enter a servant.) 
 
 Servant 
 
 Master, the aged Nathan with some followers 
 
 Is waiting at the gate ; 
 
 He comes to talk with thee in private. 
 
 David 
 
 Nathan ! ah, his dreams have again been filled 
 
 With the revelations of the Lord. 
 
 Surely he hath had visions of the siege, and 
 
 bringeth news thereof. 
 
 Bid him enter. 
 
 (Exit servant.) 
 
 152 
 
O, that the Lord may have been kind, 
 And given into the hands of Joab 
 The city of Rabbah ! 
 
 (To Zepho) 
 Zepho, bid Raamah give thee my harp 
 That thou mayest accustom thyself unto it. 
 And say that I have commanded 
 To adorn the court with Palms, 
 To pour the wines into the bowls wrought of the 
 
 newest gold. 
 
 (Exit Zepho.) 
 
 (Enter Nathan.) 
 
 Welcome, aged Nathan ! 
 
 Thou bringest prophesies for the house of David ? 
 
 (Nathan bows reverently) 
 
 Thou art grave and even thy brows 
 
 Seem weighted with heavy burden. 
 
 Surely, thou bringest not evil tidings of the 
 
 siege ? 
 "What, Joab hath not been slain? 
 
 Nathan 
 
 Master, I know nothing of the siege, 
 
 Tho it is being rumored 
 
 That the walls of Rabbah have been overthrown, 
 
 And Joab hath conquered the city. 
 
 David 
 Ah! 
 
 Nathan 
 
 Nay, I come not as messenger of war 
 But as guardian of justice. 
 
 153 
 
One of the children of Israel hath committed 
 
 Grave sin against the Lord. 
 
 And since the Lord hath looked with favor upon 
 
 thee, 
 And hath chosen thee to do his will over Israel, 
 I come to thee for righteous judgment; 
 I come to thee, that the just may be rewarded 
 And the wicked punished. 
 
 David 
 
 Truly, if there be such a one who hath trespassed 
 
 The law of the God of Israel, 
 
 He shall be punished accordingly ; 
 
 And may the will of the Lord be manifest in my 
 
 soul, 
 That I might speak in justice, 
 That I might pass righteous judgment. 
 What is the evil that hath been done? 
 
 Nathan 
 
 It concerneth two men who were neighbors 
 And whose dwellings are within the very city, 
 The one man being rich, the other poor. 
 The rich man had exceeding many flocks and 
 
 herds 
 But the poor man had nothing, 
 Save one little lamb 
 Which he bought and nourished up. 
 And it grew together with him and with his 
 
 children ; 
 It did eat of his own morsel, and drank of his 
 
 own cup, 
 
 154 
 
And lay in his bosom, 
 
 And was unto him as a daughter. 
 
 And there came a traveler unto the rich man, 
 
 And he spared to take of his own flock and herd 
 
 To dress for the wayfaring man that was come 
 
 unto him. 
 But took the poor man's lamb 
 And dressed it for the man that was come unto 
 
 him. 
 This hath he done in the face of the Lord 
 Who had favored him with riches and fortune 
 And bathed him in blessings, like sunshine. 
 
 David 
 
 As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this, 
 
 Shall surely die. 
 
 He is like unto a foul weed in the Garden of 
 
 Israel, 
 And must be rooted out and destroyed. 
 
 Nathan 
 
 Is this the will of the Lord 
 Made manifest in thy soul ? 
 
 David 
 
 Even more — for tho he die, 
 
 His neighbor's loss is not redeemed thereby. 
 
 So shall he restore the lamb fourfold 
 
 "Because he did this thing, because he had no 
 
 Pity" 
 Even now let him be cast into chains, 
 
 And may the Lord alone have mercy on his soul. 
 
 155 
 
Nathan 
 
 May the Lord indeed have mercy on his soul. 
 
 David 
 
 And do I know this man ? 
 
 Nathan 
 
 Thou dost know him only too well, 
 For he walketh in purple garments 
 And doth sit upon a throne ; 
 His sceptre doth sway over the mightiest chil- 
 dren of God ; 
 He ruleth as King over Israel. 
 Even now he is before me. 
 Thou art the man. 
 
 David 
 I! 
 
 Nathan 
 
 Thou! 
 
 1 ' Thus saith the Lord of Israel : 
 
 I anointed thee king over Israel, 
 
 And delivered thee out of the hand of Saul, 
 
 And I gave thee thy master's house 
 
 And thy master 's wives into thy bosom, 
 
 And gave thee the house of Israel and of Judah ; 
 
 And if that had been too little 
 
 I would have added unto thee such and such 
 
 things. 
 Wherefore hast thou despised the word of the 
 
 Lord 
 To do that which is evil in his sight? 
 Thou hast smitten Uriah the Hittite with the 
 
 sword, 
 
 156 
 
And hast taken his wife to be thy wife, 
 
 And hast slain him with the sword of the chil- 
 dren of Ammon. 
 
 Now therefore shall the sword never depart from 
 thy house 
 
 Because thou hast despised me 
 
 And hast taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite 
 
 To be thy wife." 
 
 David (springing up) 
 
 Lay hold on him and cast him into the dungeon. 
 
 Where be my slaves? 
 
 (Two guards armed with spears, rush in thru 
 the curtained doorway and are ah out to seize 
 Nathan. The latter points accusingly at David, 
 then slowly begins to speak again. David with 
 a wave of the hand orders the guards to leave.) 
 
 (Exeunt guards.) 
 
 Nathan 
 
 "Thus saith the Lord, 
 
 Behold, I will raise up evil against thee 
 
 And I will take thy wives before thine eyes, 
 
 And give them unto thy neighbor, 
 
 And he shall lie with them in the sight of the 
 
 sun, 
 For thou didst it secretly ; 
 But I will do this thing before all Israel 
 And before the sun." 
 
 David 
 
 Almighty God ! 
 
 (Buries his head in his hands.) 
 
 157 
 
Nathan 
 
 Dost thou confess thy sin? 
 
 David (muffled) 
 
 0, full of anguish is my soul ! 
 (Pause) 
 
 David (springing up) 
 
 Let me depart forever from the sight of the 
 
 Lord, 
 For I am steeped in the floods of iniquity 
 And am unworthy of the Lord ! 
 Let me be seized with a thousand pains ; 
 Let me be flayed by ruthless agonies, 
 That in the torments of my body 
 I might drown my soul ! 
 
 (He sinks bach, exhausted) 
 
 Nathan 
 
 (Laying his hand on David's shoulder) 
 Even in thine own remorse, thy soul is purified ; 
 And in these, thy words, art thou forgiven. 
 "The Lord doth put away thy sin, 
 Thou shalt not die." 
 
 (He retreats slowly, halts, and raises his 
 hands.) 
 
 The will of .the Lord hath been done. 
 
 (Exit Nathan.) 
 
 (A flourish of trumpets is heard in the distance. 
 Baamah comes in hastily, but on seeing David, 
 he stops short and retreats several steps as tho 
 in fright. He bows reverently.) 
 
 158 
 
Raamah 
 
 Master, the dancers with their cymbals have 
 
 arrived, 
 And there is also among them a conjurer, 
 And one who worketh magic with fire. 
 Shall I bring them into the court? 
 
 David 
 
 Raamah, make haste and let it be known to all 
 
 There shall be no festivities tonight. 
 
 The dancers shall depart from whence they came ; 
 
 The wines shall be poured away ; 
 
 The palms and the flowers strewn over the fields. 
 
 Not a light shall burn in the house of David, 
 
 And all shall be steeped in the stillness of night. 
 
 No man shall converse with his neighbor, 
 
 And none shall whisper why or wherefore ; 
 
 But each shall steal silently unto his den, 
 
 And where the moonlight greets his window 
 
 Offer prayer unto God. 
 
 Woe unto him that doth otherwise. 
 
 Begone. 
 
 (Exit Raamah.) 
 
 (David goes to the doorway and draws aside 
 one of the curtains. He sinks down upon Ms 
 right "knee and begins to speak the fifty-first 
 psalm. Evening slowly closes in upon him.) 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
 159 
 
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