'5525 GopyiiglrtN" l?_5l COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. POEMS GRANT McGEE BOSTON The Gorham Press 1914 Copyright 19H, by Grant McGee All rights reserved ^2. The Gotham Press, Boston, U. S. A. <6'CI,A.*J8S177 OCT 30 i&l4 To My Father and Mother These Poems Are Lovingly Dedicated CONTENTS To You, My Mother 7 Spring's Breezes 8 His Recompense 9 Sonnet 10 A Magical Wine 11 I'm Going to Sleep 12 The Only Life for Me 14 To My Mother and Father 15 Sunset's Serenity 16 'Tis All I Ask 17 The Voices of TwiHght 18 Pearl 20 'Tis Water Still 23 The Crowds 24 Song of the Streets 25 Out There 27 The Ruins 28 If I Had Only Known 30 Shakespeare 31 Song of the Spring 32 Sunrise 33 The Rose's Answer 34 The District Schoolhouse 35 The Toiler 37 The Immortality of Poetry 38 The Dabbler 39 The Individual 41 The Brook 42 Too Late 43 To a Dog 44 Out of the Darkness 47 To a Squirrel 48 There was a Time 49 CONTENTS Rur Rur Re 50 God is Music 51 'Tis Love 53 Vows of Love 54 Tranquillity 55 Life's Toll 57 Love's Rose-Twined Bowers 58 Help Us to See 59 The Wee Bird 60 Thy Will be Done 61 Love is Dead 62 Deceived 63 Mv Sweetheart 64 The Old Swimmin' Hole 65 Sonnet 67 'Tis but My Spirit 68 Wait! 69 Sonnet 70 To a Beautiful Young Lady 71 The Poet 72 Christmas 73 The Egotist 74 Loved I Thee More 75 As the Sun Rises 76 We Feel 77 Our Country 79 POEMS TO YOU, MY MOTHER My flowers are few And yet such as they are I bring to you, My Mother. No gorgeous hue Have they, nor perfumes fling As many do Yet gladly do I bring Them now to you, My Mother. I always yearned To bring you fairer flowers And often burned My simple pinks in frantic hours Because I knew Within my youthful bowers No flowers grew Worthy of you, My Mother. Yet well I know Though they be few, Such as they are I owe to you And so My garden's garlands Now I bring to you. My Mother. SPRING'S BREEZES O, the gentle spring's soft breezes, Tranquil breezes — Balmy breezes, How their soothing sweetness pleases Our bosoms, and pain eases With endeavor to adorn Fragrant bowers of the mom. Fairy mom. Fancy's mom. How the laughing of the breezes Every meadow early seizes Banishing all things forlorn. O, the merry, fairy breezes Flinging perfumes; flowers mom teases While their petals fresh and fair In the arms of loving air Half-protesting are caressed. Now the grasses from their rest. Lifting sleepy, half-oped eyes View the over smiling skies; And the lover nightly hiding 'Mongst sad sighs, to mom confiding Feels the thrills of hope come gUding To his heart with cheering word That his pleadings may be heard, On this day she may be stirred To accept him by the breezes Of the balmy spring's soft morn. 8 HIS RECOMPENSE A simple city gardener was he Who with worn, wrinkled hands took care of flowers. Attending fatherly to every need Their beauty felt that multitudes might flee The dusty, suffocating streets and see Within his blooming park true nature's bowers Where pain-gnawed mortals resting cease to bleed. Laved lovingly by fountain purity. Day laborers flocked there to spend their hours On Sunday with their families, to feed Toil-wearied souls on food and drink indeed, Of smokeless atmosphere. That life devours Men gradually they forgot, while he Behind a clump of roses watched their glee. 9 SONNET Incorrigible heart of mine, why do you seek In spite of reason's dictates dreary ways, Where woeful anguish demon master stays Attended by vile slaves, — where mortals shriek, Scourged ceaselessly with leaden whips ? O , speak , Are gloomy fens more dear to you than hills Arrayed in saffron gowns of sunset's thrills, — You choose soul smarting pains hell's servants wreak ! Come, view with me soft sunlight of calm days, A tranquil soothing spirit light that fills Earth's fields and crowded streets with peace till praise Arises even from still stones, — instills Divine contentment, love, — makes strong the weak With hope. Inhale no more despair's rank reek. 10 A MAGICAL WINE From her lips I sipped a sparkling wine, Wonderful wine indeed For it changed this youthful life of mine Into something half man, half divine. Magical wine, indeed. 11 I'M GOING TO SLEEP I am going to sleep Where soft slumber will keep My heart from fear and sorrow; I am going to rest With no thought in my breast Of what will come tomorrow. I have wept all the day In a passionate way Because my hopes are broken; In my anguish I've said That I'd rather be dead. What foolish words were spoken ! 'Tis a pleasure to know That to rest I can go, Forget life's strife in sleeping — And the joy will be mine, I will cease to repine And quit my futile weeping. I will turn out the light And invite shades of night To come and linger round me; With a smile in my eyes I will look at the skies Till Morpheus god has bound me. Many melodies sound In this realm I have found Of pure heart-tranquil pleasure; Gleeful fairies are here U Bringing love's blessed cheer In fancy's dancing measure. Fare thee well, cruel Care, I'll return to thee ne'er — To sleep my heart is going. In the morning I'll rise With love's hope in my eyes. And mirth I'll e'er be knowing. 13 THE ONLY LIFE FOR ME I'd like to be a sailor on the rolling sea Sailing along with a merry song. O, that's the life for me. I'd like to be a j&sher fishing in the sea, Fishing all day in a bomiding bay. O , that's the life for me. I'd like to be an artist painting of the sea From morn till eve, I'd never grieve. O, that's the life for me. I'd like to be a poet writing of the sea. Writing all day for little of pay. O, that's the life for me. But I'd rather be a lover loving only thee, Within thine arms, earth's sweetest charms. The only life for me ! 14 TO MY MOTHER AND FATHER As when I strive to write of God my pen Now falters smitten by the thought of how Inadequate are human words to tell These thrills divine. I feel within me well Deep fountains of my love — what yearnings swell E'en unto bursting! Yet I cannot tell For some strange lack of words has griped me now And I but mutter, fail, and strive again. In boyhood's days I climbed upon your knees, A little ignorant thing; but then I knew Far more than now for when I felt you seize Me in your arms I told my love for you In kisses. Let me flee grown thoughts of men And climb upon your knees, a boy again. 15 SUNSET'S SERENITY Sonnet When Phoebus 'mongst rose-colored realms de- clines Yon crimson skies serenely tranquil seem A gleeful garden where my heart may dream And visit wondrous sparkling structures, shrines Where Cupid reigns — reposing 'neath long vines That bow with luscious fruit unto love's stream Caressed by rippling purity. Each beam About my weary soul with kisses twines. Low twilight melodies from out joy's breast On fancy's filmy wings soft, soothing calm Waft over mortal restlessness, a balm That eases pain until in peace I rest And wonder why my heart has ever sighed For sweets Elysian. Lo! in sunset's seats they bide. 16 'TIS ALL I ASK A smile ! 'Tis all I ask today, — A smile to drive my doubts away. 17 THE VOICES OF TWILIGHT Softly, slowly, sadly while the evening breezes blow Comes a strange, mysterious melody With a plaintive, mournful harmony That glides into our bosoms in a way we do not know Till entuned our hearts are trembling with the sadness of the sound Forth we rush to find the singer — human singer is not found 'Neath the stars in heaven beaming on the shadow checkered ground. But still that music thrilling Throbbing breasts with love is filling, Wondrous love for unseen fairies gayly dancing all aroimd Until now their songs are joyous as the balmy days in June, And our youthful hearts are bounding with the fancy of their tune. 18 They've fled! The twilight voices scarcely heard by yearning ear Have departed with the coming of yon silent, silver moon And as when a friend forsakes us whom our hearts have held most dear Longing stand we in the shadows for those voices fled too soon, Fled into the blackness of the forest's giant gloom, Fled because they could not 'scape their destiny, our doom. But why lament, O, heart of mine, for they'll come back to you With the coming of another eve. O, think them not untrue. Lie down to rest in quietude and dream the hours away For soon you'll hear their songs again of blending sad and gay. 19 PEARL She was ready to be married, Beaming girl In a gown of laces varied Clear as pearl; With her girlhood friends she tarried Waiting for her Earl. Through the dusk a rider hurried With his brow drawn, anxious, worried For within his coat he carried These last words (the Earl was buried) *'E'en in death I am thy Earl, Art thou too in death my Pearl?" These last words the rider carried To the girl. Soon he saw the lights outgleaming As of gleeful spirits dreaming, — From his face hot tears were streaming And his heart was sorely harried By the message that he carried From the master, lover, Earl, — By the pain his words would hurl On the girl. Through the windows girlish singing To the night young love was flinging In soft tones with rapture ringing As the rider halted sadly Listening to them singing gladly, — Knowing how they'd hear him madly, Hear the message of the Earl To his Pearl. 20 From his horse he then dismounted, — Sighing deeply, up he mounted On the steps — each step he counted By the beating of his heart, By the dropping of the blood within his heart At the thought of what deep pain, Never to be raised again. His sad message from the Earl Would hurl down upon the girl, On the brightly beaming Pearl. In the midst of merry singing Came a hush — the girl was clinging To the rider who was bringing Her across the polished floor. Then in ghastly tones he uttered While their lace hid hearts fast fluttered And their eyes stared more and more, — In low accents then he uttered The last message of the Earl To the tottering girl, his Pearl. When the last death word was ended For a moment silence blended With the beating of their hearts — Then shrill girlish voices weeping Made the rider's heart go leaping; And the girl by myriad darts Pierced and broken wildly crying. Fell upon the floor fast dying. Crying, "As in life e'en so in death, my Earl, I am evermore thy Pearl!" 21 Then the rider pained and worried From the scene of weeping hurried Out across the blackened land, Seeking flight from fears that harried Him because death- words he carried. Lo ! two spirits hand in hand Gowned in white from foot to head Past him shuddering, laughing, sped Whispering gayly: *'Earl!" *'My Pearl!' Past him flew with deathless whirl. 22 'TIS WATER STILL A pool of stagnant water, and yet 'tis water still E'en though it long has ceased to ripple down the hill. A slimy, greenish scum is there upon its nauseous face And it has seemingly lost all its former grace; But yet, 'tis water still. Green bugs and frogs in glee sport round on every side Whirring, croaking, and snakes now wriggle and slide Into the spongy surface tracing paths along. How different from the murmuring forest song! But yet, 'tis water still. 23 THE CROWDS I sing of the rushing crowds, Endlessly tearing crowds, Ceaselessly thronging crowds That tramp through the streets. I sing of the city's thousands, Intermingling and blending thousands. Of good and of evil thousands That throb through the streets. These are the beings. The beings that have life, The givers, the takers, the makers of life. The causes of buildings, of streets, and of life. Here is the power of life. Woe to the man who resists such a power — He will be ground into pieces, — He will perish beneath the feet of the crowds. 24 SONG OF THE STREETS Tramped upon, rolled upon hour after hour. Day after day, — Ceaselessly smitten by traffic's vast power Naught do we say. Just bear whate'er burdens upon us are hurled — 'Tis the way of the world. Sometimes we're wounded e'en unto our hearts, Pierced by this power. Then street-form surgeons attend to our parts Hour after hour Until we are able to bear what is hurled By the ways of the world. Ours is a calling — though often scorned small. Lowest of low — Deemed by the wise most essential of all Duties men know. Why, we on our shoulders like Atlas of old This great earth-sphere uphold. Carelessly, thoughtlessly, multitudes tread Day after day Over our bosoms, — ^yet when they are dead Still we shall stay Upholding the burdens by mortal minds hurled, 'Tis the way of the world. How do the great of earth's creatures proceed Day after day? Over our bodies to every great deed, — This they will say. Their feet on our muscles we ever uphold. Of the young and the old. 25 Blame us not when filthy crime comes our way Hour after hour; Hideous demons from hell-pit may stray Over our power, But we must uphold whatever burdens are hurled, — 'Tis our task in the world. Poverty stricken and wealthy pass by Day after day, — Laughter, low moanings, and many a sigh — Pleasure's array. All these on our shoulders alike must be hurled By the ways of the world. Up from our beings complainings ne'er rise, Nor do we sigh. We have as noble position as skies, Why should we sigh ! We're glad we can bear whate'er burdens are hurled — 'Tis the way of the world. 26 OUT THERE Out there beyond this noisy strife for gain I'd lay me down in peace and rest; I'd harken to the birds and calm my breast Now throbbing with emotion's pain. Out there where love supreme abides I'd stroll at early morn and sing, I'd trip amongst the roses fair that fling Their perfumes forth, — where love no solace hides. Out there apart from me, myself, vile wretch, I'd grow again, a creature formed anew — I'd breathe the woodland air and sip the dew; Out there I'd nod and yawn and stretch. Out there my dreams I'd dream once more; I'd revel in my childhood's glee, — I'd feel my youth's felicity, Out there I'd heal this heart all torn and sore. Out there, O God, just for one happy hour I'd give my life. Ah! life would not be SuflBcient pay for sights these eyes would see Out there, released from sin's black, biting power. 27 THE RUINS Only the ruins are left Of the walls, Tottering walls Of stately strength by fire bereft. With every gust of wind there falls A brick or stone With sullen moan Upon the sodden ground, With dismal sound Reverberating round and round Till even the silence shivers And quivers At the melancholy sound To despondency fast bound. Through the windows peers the moon With startled face On the lonely place, — A strangely seeming moon Through the jagged windows peering While the shadows shuddering, fearing Strive to flee the gloomy sight To black corners of the night. 28 Now the howling, growHng winds With their dreary might Grasp the shaking, quaking minds Who are wandering in the night And with woeful, doleful wail From the ruins moan their tale Of a maiden who was wed To a man whose love was dead, — How this hideous monster led Her to the altar where he said Lie on lie, — and how he fled This forsaken maiden leaving Her alone with bitter grieving Staggering 'mongst the tottering ruins. Dying in the dismal ruins, — Crushed at last beneath the ruins. Then her awful cry ascending. With the winds of heaven blending Formed these moans of horror rending Every hearer, through him sending Icy chills his heart's blood freezing. All his being madly seizing With despair. As he looks upon the ruins Trembling there, — As he wonders at the ruins Tottering there, — As he shudders at the ruins Groaning there. 29 IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN If I had only known ! How oft I groan And moan, If I had only known. If I had only known The stone I threw At you So many years ago Would harm you so ! If I had only known. If I had only known Then now I'd own A friend Whose tender love for me Would never end; If I had had the power to see — But as it is I moan, If I had only known. What a fool I am! I should have known My deed would damn My life to one long groan. I should have known — I could have known If I had cared to know. A coward am I beneath this crushing woe To whine : If I had only known. 30 SHAKESPEARE Deep reader of man's inmost motives, thou Who pierced with scrutinizing gaze so far Into his soul of souls no sin seared scar Escaped thine eye; who heard him wildly vow His vows of love and hate, perceived his brow With passion's fever fraught, — life's ceaseless war Against results that naught on earth or star Might turn, — and watched him 'neath his burdens bow. The highest artist, thou, of noblest art To master minds revealed by poet God; Thou deathless teacher of immortal fact; Star of the East to guide the human heart Along straight paths o'er rocks or pleasant sod. Thou warnest man to guard life's every act. 31 SONG OF THE SPRING Song of the spring Sung low and sweet With blending sounds of children's feet Merrily tripping from woods to bring Their fragrant offering Of flowers To mirth's cosy bowers. How beautiful thou art! Song of the spring. Of balmy leas Entwined by soft, caressing breeze Kissed by the bees thy low murmurings sing; . On wafting wing Of glee Thou comest to me. Into my youthful heart. Song of the spring, A tingling stream Of throbbing notes as in a dream Lovingly gliding o'er everything Aroimd me ring Until I feel love's true thrill. How beautiful thou art. 32 SUNRISE 'Twas on a gentle slope at dawn I stood Out o*er a lake's calm bosom gazing far Into morn's skies where lingered one lone star Above the shadows of a silent wood. A few brief moments — then a wondrous light Up from the crystal surface bursts, behold The sun through laces spun of burnished gold Arise. Lo — how the waters ripple bright. Upon the dew adorned slope I kneeled And felt within wiy heart a new desire To drink into my soul the rosy fire Of glory God at that quiet hour revealed. I viewed pink clouds reflected there upon The lake's clear breast and murmured, God — thy dawn. 33 THE ROSE'S ANSWER In my garden there blooms a little rose With petals of crimson hue. By its side every day a brooklet flows Beneath smiling skies of blue, Softly sighing, "There'll soon fall wintry snows,- What then, little rose, will you do? " Chorus What will happen when snows of winter fall I do not care to know, — I am listening to the red birds' call — Hark how morn's zephyrs blow. Not a fear of the snow annoys at all So please be still, and flow With a murmuring song on your way along Nor sigh any more of snow. Through my garden the brooklet slowly flows Each ripple a merry song. Never sighing about the wintry snows For sighing it knows is wrong. Dancing gleefully by the crimson rose It hears as it glides along. 84 THE DISTRICT SCHOOLHOUSE In my mind there hangs a painting That my heart dehghts to view Of a httle district schoolhouse 'Neath a cloudless sky of blue, And with fondest recollections All these years I'm peering through To the time when I was happy Loving, being loved by you. There is naught within the picture To destroy its purity For in childhood's blest affection Bides a sweet felicity Born of fragrant flowers and grasses, Fraught with true tranquillity. In those days we two were sweethearts Heeding not futurity. Now the schoolhouse doors swing open And with shouts of childish glee Rush the children forth to recess. Just as merry as can be, — Over there a boy is lingering By the door that he may see One who slowly saunters toward him — With smile you spoke to me. 35 Then my face grew red and redder As I stammered: "Howdy-do" Feeling like I'd midertaken What I didn't want to do. Yet before the teacher called us I had staggered, struggled through With a pompous declaration That I'd live or die for you. Just a modest coimtry painting Of a maiden smiling there Who believed my boyish fancy Would go with her everywhere. Just a little district schoolhouse Free from every human care Nestling close beside the forest Soothed by balmy woodland air. 36 THE TOILER IVe done my best Now let me rest Apart from life's harsh strife, Where the murmuring streams 'Neath fair Cynthia's beams Console man's sorrowing life; Where the birds softly sing Free from every sad thing, Where the breezes of evening blow From over the hills With rapturous thrills. To the land of rest let me go. 37 THE IMMORTALITY OF POETRY Who says that poetry will die Declares the souls of men will die Declares the loves of souls will die Declares the God of love will die. S8 THE DABBLER What a fool is the dabbler Who writes of soul-weeping, Whose heart all the while Is in merriment leaping; Who thinks to paint pictures Of slimy snakes creeping When he safe from woe Is in love's tender keeping. Not from him who of joy Is in fullness partaking Come shriekings and groanings, Life's blessings forsaking. 'Tis only the whining Of one who is faking Soul-anguish. Mere dabbling! His heart is not aching. He pretends he is shuddering Hell's harbingers fearing, And boasts to his friends What an art he is nearing To counterfeit suff'ring E'en while life's endearing. He struts in his folly — But Time's face is leering. 39 He may fool his admirers Who worship his wonders, For they'd deem a dog's bark As deep as Jove's thunders. But there is a power Man's pretending soon sunders From masters of passion With low dabbling's blunders. From the heart of a master True poetry's spoken Because ev'ry word Of his life is a token; Each groan that is wrung — From a heart bleeding, broken; Each jubilant sound — From rejoicings love-woken. What vile messes these dabblers Have ever been spewing From heart putrefaction ! O Muses, renewing Your grasp on man's soul Save him from art's imdoing. Entice him away with Your eyes beauty wooing. 40 THE INDIVIDUAL Am I to be as others are because it seems to please — Am I to laugh when others laugh and sneeze when others sneeze? Shall I then live an ape's low life in imitation's quest — Or must I follow ceaselessly the thought within my breast? If I endeavor to perform my own peculiar task What right have others to complain, what more does nature ask? Is harmony to be obtained by leaving each his work Till all become mere idlers and mankind delights to shirk? O, cease your babblings! I must do as I myself desire. How can I listen to your words ! Up flares vexed reason's fire And threatens to consume my soul if I attempt to shrink From duty's path to follow you and think as others think. Each soul must play his instrument and learn to play it well Till all the trembling hearts of men rejoice and bosoms swell, Till love is King and peace abides upon earth's verdant sod And all are playing praises in the orchestra of God. 41 THE BROOK Free from life's troubles Its ripples and bubbles In innocent glee on its murmuring way; Frolicking, gliding, Upleaping and sliding Forever abiding 'mongst water nymphs gay; Flows the sweet spring rill E'er flowing to sing rill, That dances a fay rill through night and through day. 42 TOO LATE! We sat and talked about many things, Irrelevant things, And sipped our chocolate just as though The fleeting minutes would never go, — Remarking upon the current events While time was slashing in gaping rents Through which opportunity would fly Ere long past recall. Oh, why — Oh, why Did we sit and talk about many things. Apart from love things! 43 TO A DOG Small creature wagging your tail And looking at me with laughing eyes, With trusting, love-inviting eyes, — ■ With ears uplifted attentively, I love you. You'll soon be big and mighty With sinewy legs, unconquered jaws, With flashing eyes and gnashing jaws But you'll still be true to me, — I'll love you. Whether poor or rich you'll stay with me. At early morn you'll leap and bark before me. On my strolls you'll bound in glee before me. You'll be my dear friend till death. O, how I love you ! When I am sick you'll come unto my bed And look at me with sympathizing eyes, — You'll speak to me with anxious, loving eyes That beam with interest for my welfare. How then I'll love you ! When I am sad you'll walk with me beyond The city's streets along sweet country lanes. We'll enjoy together the flower-embroidered lanes And life will flee from sorrow's gloom Because I love you. 44 My future hours with you e'en now Enlighten me of many grievous burdens, My love for you drives off the soul of burdens And I approach tomorrows smilingly and joyfully As one who sees before him summer fields Of love. Through tickling grass kneedeep we'll brush Until we suddenly behold the tranquil lake Of silver gowned dreams, the many colored lake Where grassy banks await our wearied forms. 'Tis there we'll sleep and dream of summer scenes Of love. Soft breezes on our cheeks will dance Inspiring sweeter rest, and merry birds Will trill with thrilling breasts, love gendered birds Whose throats forever throb with tingling tender- ness. There'll enter there no sleep destroying noise to mar Our dreams. You'll be to me all that I long for till Grasps death, cold unavoidable monster to the loves Of earth, and then we'll have to part nor sit again Communing with our souls close drawn In love. 45 You think I'm wrong? You mean we'll always be Dear soul-knit friends? My dog, my cheerful dog, Who knows that you are wrong in thinking so! At least, it cheers us both by hoping so. Come, lick my hand and vow we're bound By love. 46 OUT OF THE DARKNESS In the dark my reason wanders Ceaselessly seeking resting place. In the dark my reason ponders Whether there be a resting place. In the light my heart is leaping While the dark-born shadows creeping Leave me to my love's safe keeping, In the light of Luna's face. 47 TO A SQUIRREL O little squirrel, how nimbly you leap From bough to bough. Do you not fear, or does He keep Your feet from missing — On whom I often scowl? Along that slender branch you run As though such danger were fun, And laugh in glee From your perch at me, — Whisking your bushy tail in the air, — Off again skipping — as a bird in its flight Higher and higher beyond the might Of mortals to drag you down. And now on the topmost twig you are swinging Acting the part of a merry clown, Free from all care as you dodge around And laugh at the leafy, far distant ground. 48 THERE WAS A TIME There was a time when I wildly declared That I'd never again by love be ensnared, But that was before I knew I'd meet such a maiden as you. Because one was false I vowed I was through With girl whimperings, smiles, and caresses — But that was before I had ever seen you, And now all my curses are blesses. 'Tis easy to say that a girl shall not rule By her love every thought of the youth. But when the test comes the youth is a fool And nothing save love is the truth. Yet where is the human deserving the name Who desires to be free from her power? We're all of us lovers and willing the same To be slaves of her smile every hour. I know I am foolish to those who are wise But their censure I'll never admire. For my heart will forever bow low to girls' eyes And my bosom burn hot with love's fire. 40 RUR RUR RE Rur nir re — lur rur re brooklet Frolicking gayly along, Mur rur re — moor roor re brooklet Gleefully gurgling thy song In soft, rippling delight, Ev'ry hour of the night. Drur rur re, Droor roor re Fearing no foe Forever dost flow Lur rur re — lur rur re on Rur rur re — rur rur re on. Mur rur re lur rur re, Lur rur re mur rur re Moor roor re loor roor re Loor roor re moor roor re Rur rur re rur rur re on Gracefully gliding toward dawn. 60 GOD IS MUSIC God is music. Harmony of blended symphony United to sweet rhythmic motion Sways the miiverse with palpitating thrills Till heav'n, and earth, and stars, and planets swing Through space by one consent to music flown, That they may pleasing be to Him, directing power With baton of eternal song. And now a lonely melody Doth from the stars arise, As though a sadd'ning agony Brings tears into their eyes, Yet with the softest harmony It glides across the skies. And now a thundering roar bounds high As from celestial rage, — It rumbles, tumbles through the sky Condemning earth and man to die, Makes ignorant earth's wisest sage And heav'nward soon doth fly. Ah ! now all loneliness is fled And thunder, too, is gone, And lo ! in peace earth lifts her head To view Aurora's dawn. The goddess comes with lips of red To press man's brow upon. 51 Arise ye fields, ye woodland realms — Lift high in harmony; Sing praises to ethereal power Of heavenly melody; Leap up and dance from dawn till dawn,- Praise music's majesty. 52 'TIS LOVE There is something within us. Within us and through us. All through us that rules us. What is it? 'Tis love. There is something immortal. The life of each mortal That never shall vanish. What is it? 'Tis love. 53 vows OF LOVE The vow quickly spoken Is easily broken When twilight's soft zephyrs are fled; For the heart has been captured, By fairies enraptured, Till reason skips off from the head. The vow slowly spoken Shall never be broken; Like stars* sparkling glory 'twill beam Gleaming ever toward Heaven, In purity given, Ennobling your life's every gleam. 54 TRANQUILLITY Tranquil is the heart of him Who loves the woodland bowers And in their close embrace delights To pass his leism'e hours Reclining on soft, downy grass Beneath wide spreading boughs For Joy dwells there and reigns supreme Nor Sorrow e'er allows To enter with his gloomy self Into those fair domains Of happiness, deep, thrilling peace Apart from human pains. Birds of varied plumage sing Amongst the emerald trees. And oft is heard low humming Of the honey-forming bees; The fishes splash in crystal pools And dart with merry glee While e'en the water gayly laughs With spriag's fehcity; Aloft lithe squirrels leap about At dizzy heights with ease, As though young birds they soar along Upheld by balmy breeze. 55 The silver brooklet sings its song Of forest children's love Untainted by the sin of man, Adorned by God above, — From mom till eve, from eve till mom. It glides in peace along Nor e'er desires to flee its place To taste the sweets of wrong; From whence it came it never asks Nor whither will it end. Its only thought : To flow in calm With Nature, tender friend. From meads nearby a fragrance comes And soothes the troubled breast. Until o'ercome by odors sweet The man lies down to rest. With violets round him blooming, blue As morning's azure skies. And when he wakes he sees the smile In nature's sparkling eyes, So calm, so tranquil, lovely, pure That up he springs all new, A creature changed by Nature's hand Into her lover true. 56 LIFE'S TOLL Sonnet The sultry summer day my sister died It seemed as though the very hell of woe Reeked up in hot oppressive fumes swirled, Oh ! So madly round my heart. I sought to hide Within philosophy's cold chamber wide Where I was urged by comforters to go. How hideously vain the quiet ! No Consoling nook in that room did abide. Half crazed I sprang into the struggling streets, Into the midst of heartbeats, sweating souls Whose faces told what bitter, biting tolls Were paid for living. Intermingled there With vast humanity's cause for despair I laughed. I live — ^why not pay my life's share. 57 LOVE'S ROSE-TWINED BOWERS Long twining vines of roses Weave fantastic crimson lace And 'tis there my love reposes 'Neath Aurora's fairy face Till my heart aflame discloses To my eyes the charming place. 58 HELP US TO SEE No room for thee? O spirit Master Can it be That man's heart for aught else beats faster Than for thee ! Have earth's high flaring Hghts So dazzled him Heaven's glories, deathless sights, Seem dim! If so, O come, thou God of majesty; Somehow, somewhere draw near and help us see. No room for thee ! My ears are hearing Shrieks and groans Wrung from the bleeding souls of fearing Earthly thrones That tremble, totter, fall Because for thee No room was found. Man's all By thee Alone is held from woe. No room for thee! My God, my God, have grace, — help us to see. 59 THE WEE BIRD A wee bird swinging, swinging, swinging Was gently singing, singing, singing One afternoon In leafy month of June. His breast was thrilling, thrilling, thrilling — His notes were filling, filling, filling My heart with peace and joy divine. O, what an art, little bird, what an art is thine. The wind was blowing, blowing, blowing, 'Twas coldly snowing, snowing, snowing — I came again — How harsh my heart's sharp pain! The bird was sighing, sighing, sighing While quickly dying, dying, dying His last sweet song was lisped with fainting breath. O, sad farewell, little bird! O, sad farewell in death. 60 THY WILL BE DONE 'Tis easy, Lord, to say : Thy will be done, When life's fresh flowers bloom serenely fair And peace-fraught fragrance fling to morning's air For then I deem my fight with sorrow won; But when hot winds of failure ceaseless blow Till all my youthful flowers are withered, dead. And verdant hope from out my heart is fled. Into black realms of doubt and fear I go. Unlifting fogs of gloom enshroud my soul, And even longing prayer seems all in vain To ease this agonizing, piercing pain That over sin-tossed seas doth on me roll. Ah! how soon hast thou shone through, dis- pelling fear, — Thy will be done, my bark is thine to steer. 61 LOVE IS DEAD Silent stars beam overhead, Mournfully sounding zephyrs whisper, "Love is dead." Linger not to question why, But haste thee while the night enshrouds Or thou must die. 62 DECEIVED I thought you loved me more than this When first I pressed a lover's kiss Upon your girlish lips, But now I see how false you were, — And I can never follow her Who like the chamois skips. 63 MY SWEETHEART Invisible thou art, Sweetheart; Unembraced thou'lt ever be O sweetheart; Unloved thou'lt never be My sweetheart. 64 THE OLD SWIMMIN'HOLE If you want to find the happiest place In all the world, Just come with me some afternoon To the old swimmin' hole. It's not very far, three or four miles Over the railroad track, — And oh ! how good that water looks In the old swimmin' hole. When you've stripped off your clothes And dived from the bank I know you'll say it's the merriest place, In the old swimmin' hole. When you first jump in the water's cold But what do you care for that? You soon get used to the water's chill In the old swimmin' hole. All your sorrows go floating away Down with the rippling water, You can't be sad when you're out there In the old swimmin' hole. Sometimes you float along on your back And look up into the sky And wish you could swim there forever In the old swimmin' hole. 65 And then you roll in the sand on the bank My! isn't that sand hot! But it all comes off when you take a dive In the old swimmin' hole. When at last you decide to go out Someone's tied your clothes in knots, Such pranks are always in order At the old swimmin' hole. You're all in a rage and say lots o' things You don't mean to say But when you start home you leave anger there, In the old swimmin' hole. Say, come with me, — won't you, some afternoon? You'll never regret it. Let's leave all this worry and have a good swim In the old swimmin' hole. G6 SONNET 'Twere better never to have lived than feel When death draws near no tender chord vibrate Within the heart because a sweeter state Of joy awaits. If night did not reveal Heav'n*s beaming lights in grand, sublime array Of myriad hues, celestial splendors strewn In wondrous ways around the silver moon. With aching hearts we'd rue departed day. A black abyss doth yawningly appear Before his eyes who meditates on death, Unless from God*s pure atmosphere each breath Imbibes a nobler faith, and then no fear Low crushes him; clear marble stairs ascend For him and softest sounds forever blend. 67 'TIS BUT MY SPIRIT It is not I who grieve, 'Tis but my spirit Long striving to weave A garland and wear it Of fancy's filmy roses. It is not I who moan, 'Tis but my spirit In quest of a throne; None found cannot bear it, — 'Mongst flowers no more reposes. 68 WAIT! Wait! Be not in such a maddened hurry To rush into the throng. Wait till your time arrives, 'Twill not be overlong. W^aste not your heart in futile worry. 69 SONNET To stumble man needs not Gibraltar's might Against him hurled; one little trifling stone Unseen upon his path will make him groan Low, prostrate fallen. Foes beneath our sight Lurk grinning in their cunning snake delight, Because they know mankind doth watch alone The giant powers of sin, — then to dethrone His manhood strike a blow that seemeth slight. A needle point with poison fraught doth slay More deadly than Damascus blade; a sting From insect passes eagle's rage to bring A Herculean form quick death. O, pray, My soul, that thou through God may learn to see These enemies that lie in wait for thee. 70 TO A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG LADY Sonnet Your loveliness has oft been praised by pen More skilled than mine can hope to be, — ^but still, Sweet incarnation of pure beauty, will You spurn these feeble words? You are to men A light out-gleaming far to guide us when Life's lowering clouds obscure the way. We see Your noble rays and face the storm with glee Of those who lost have found truth's course again. Let artists paint your queenly form, — the thrill Of viewing you can ne'er be told by me. I struggle for a fitting phrase until Despondency enshrouds, black misery Of failure. O, this wretched, wayless fen ! Stay — earth life soon will pass, — I'll tell you then. 71 THE POET The poet sits in his room While the gathering gloom Of twilight draws near, And the universes of space Come near His chair. Brush softly against his face And play in his hair. 72 CHRISTMAS Incomprehensible to mortal minds This day when thou, O Christ, became for man Man's image following immortal plan Must aye remain. Man only knows he finds In it sweet shelter from the howling winds Of bitter fate. Protected he doth scan Fast flying ages since the world began Till now, — this day to life his being binds. The calendar of time inscribed in gold Marks this the King of days, the day beheld By olden prophets and bowed down before. Permitted thus to see, our eyes behold A dazzling radiance, — our hearts are swelled To bursting. God ! have grace — reveal no more. 73 THE EGOTIST No matter what he heard or read He always stroked his chin and said, " I've something better in my head. " 74 LOVED I THEE MORE Loved I thee more, O God, As now I stand beneath the lights of Heaven, My heart would not be riven By despair, The demon of this mortal sod; I would not care So much to see the pleasing nod Of men's approval; I would not be The victim of earth's frailty, Loved I thee more, O God. Loved I thee more, O Lord When failure's hideous might whirls near to slay me, My will would not betray me To black sin, To torture of its slashing sword; Above the din. The blatant din of fiery horde. Would rise serenely the voice of hope, "Forsake the fen, mount sunlit slope." Loved I thee more, O Lord. 75 AS THE SUN ARISES As the sun arises in splendor On this peaceful, balmy mom, May my life, O God, sweet praises render To thee who dost yon skies adorn. As those clouds reflect Sol's glory Painted in a rosy hue, May I reflect thy glory In all I think and do. Phoebus, Lord, is mounting higher Driving away the lingering shades of night And as they flee I pray of thee That my soul may increase in might. Till my eyes emit a holy light. As doth yon flaming orb of fire. 'Tis day. The glory of dawn has fled, The world awakes and shakes its drowsy head. It stretches and yawns as a lazy child While the chariot of fire rushes on. May my life, O Christ, be calm, be mild Oh, may I start at early dawn And run with faith my race each day Trusting in thee to guide me o'er the way. 76 WE FEEL We do not know, O God. How could we know With finite minds infinity! And yet we feel, no matter where we go. The presence of thy sovereignty. We call thee Jupiter, Jehovah, God And many an other earthly name. We say vast universes heed thy nod. That everything from thee once came. Great, all inclusive seK, we say thou art. From whence all creature selves have come Endowed with soul, and brain, and beating heart From thee, our spirits' primal home. Not utterly estranged are we from thee. E'en though our little minds are weak; Our tongues but lisp our frail humanity, — The souls within us soon shall speak. The spirits round us, in us, whereso'er They be, released and unrestrained. Shall pierce wide kingdoms of unbounded air. And perfect speech shall be obtained. Ah! then, or power or personality, Whate'er thou art our minds shall know. And we from time and space by death set free Will into thine inclusion grow. 77 What matters then the name we call thee by ! Why wage our petty wars on earth; We are but men who live and know not why. Who trust we have celestial birth. We are but men, — calamity? Oh, no! High gift is our humanity. We do not fret because we do not know. Because we feel thy sovereignty. 78 OUR COUNTRY Our country, widely reaching land, Inhaling *neath clear warless skies God's air of freedom fair and grand. Admired by other nations' eyes. Take care that all thy grandeur, power. Be not hurled low by one wild hour, — Take care that freedom's fragrant flower Be not decayed in sin's black bower. O, may thy children not be fools Who gaze but on thy brilliant ways, Forgetting men can be hell's tools. Forgetting truth in pleasure's blaze. Take care, though mighty now thou art, That sin probe not into thy heart Injecting poison, — that woe's dart Cause not thy glory to depart. Thy beauties are as manifold As sparkling stars on heaven's face; Thine arms a vast creation hold Of people strong in modern race — • And yet, and yet take care — take care That thou fall not into the snare Laid for the nation debonair, Whose children follow folly's glare. n There must be strength within thy form Beyond the power of sin to mar, A strength resisting every storm Whirled by thy foes from near and far. Thou must take care in spite of all Fond praises showered, that bitter gall Be not thy drink in failure's hall. Because thou'st answered folly's call. Let not our homes become in vain To rear a sturdy race of men, — Let us not think bad blood's foul stain Will not destroy our splendor then. O country dear, lead us aright Along the ways where gleams truth's light, Nor let us wander in the night Away from purity's sweet sight. O may we be from sea to sea. From Gulf to Lakes, hour after hour, Day after day more true to thee, More consecrated to thy flower, That it may bloom, fairest of fair, With petals kissed by peaceful air. Its fragrance pure and lovely, rare, To be destroyed by conflict, — ^ne'er! 60