/ Class, PS 2 >£\ S Book. , A £ C f S % 4- copyright deposit: SONNETS FROM THE SILENCE SONNETS FROM THE SILENCE BY MINNIE FERRIS HAUENSTEIN $J G. P. Putnam's Sons ^ewYork & London tDlje Ijtnickerbockct Press 1922 Copyright, 1922 by Minnie Ferris Hauenstein /^ Made in the United States of America DEC 22 C1A690697 MY FOUR BELOVED SONS Harold, Barton, Ferris, and Paul A, AND MY GRANDSON ERIC WELLS PRATT I DEDICATE THIS BOOK CONTENTS SONNETS FROM THE SILENCE PAGE Proem 3 is there no land of lost and lovely things ... 5 The House of Memory 6 Recognition 7 To a Tear 8 The Woman 9 To the Marble "Melisande" .10 "As Doves that to their Windows Fly" . . ' . . . 11 Limitation 12 To a Lost Hour 13 To Poets Fallen on Sleep . 14 Discontent 15 Experience 16 The Woman Heart 17 Expectancy 18 The Light-Ship 19 Sonnet of a Sea Lover . 20 Prescience 21 The Sinai of the Soul 22 The Nativity 23 The Woods 24 vii CONTENTS PAGE Mirage 25 Sea Song of Italy 26 To an India Shawl 27 The Wings of Song 28 The Winter of Spring 29 Mother-Month 30 The Spendthrift Day 31 In Samaria 32 The Bond 33 A Repentant Summer 34 To Goldenrod 35 Song-Dower 36 A Sunset Idyl 37 Love's April 38 Sonnet in Monotone 39 The Truce 40 Love's Loyalty 41 Renunciation 42 Pearls 43 When Love Walks Near 44 Exiled 45 Rain Song 46 Monadnock 47 Gethsemane 48 Amos, the Prophet 49 Dante M . 50 viii CONTENTS PAGE "At the Tomb of Juliet" . . 51 Evening on Casco Bay 52 Song of an Old Sailing Ship . 53 Two Sonnets to Columbus 54, 55 Ultimatum 56 To Keats 57 Understanding . 58 To One Unloved 59 Sacrament 60 Preparation 61 The Shepherd's Psalm 62 "The Body is the Boat — The Heart the Sail" . 63 To Italy 64 In St. Peter's at Rome 65 Unforgetfulness 66 To a Bit of Old Flemish Lace 67 Love's Wisdom 68 Mood Dreams 69 The Dream Bridge 70 September 71 Harvest 72 To-morrow 73 The Great Canal 74 The Lighted Candle 75 To Jane Meade Welch 76 The King is Dead! Long Live the King! . ... yy ix CONTENTS PAGE To a Fountain 78 BERMUDIAN SONNETS At the Sea's Rim 81 Ecstasy 82 Moonlight 83 The Storm — At Bermuda 84 SONNETS OF MEMORY Sonnet to Memory 87 To my Father's Inkwell 88 To the Memory of George Knight Houpt .... 89 To William McKinley 90 To James Nichol Johnston 91 To Charlotte Mulligan 92 Sonnet to the Memory of Prof. Wiles 93 To A. G. H 94 x Sonnets from the Silence PROEM SILENCE hath songs in every language known, On every wind her silvery summons blow, Her singing kin, the cloud, the sod, the snow — Stars that are constant, mountains ancient grown; It is not given vibrant strings alone To voice the score of all soul-haunting songs, Nor to far-echoing, sonorous flutes belongs The diapason of Life's undertone. Art hath upbuilt her Temple stair on stair, Whose towers touch the very heights of heaven, They gleam as Pleiades — the splendid seven, And resonant Beauty is high mistress there ; Yet Silence stands, with brooding, soundless part And breathes the music of the human heart. IS THERE NO LAND OF LOST AND LOVELY THINGS? IS there no land of lost and lovely things, No bourne immutable where garnered are The glint and gleam of sunset and of star? — The dawn-made music crumbling Memnon sings, The splendor of massed clouds, — faint whisperings Of old-world loves; — some dream-wrought, shim- mering jar Cellini shaped, — rainbows that fling afar Colors on rocks and seas, and robes of Kings. Must these be thrust to dim Oblivion, No hand to stay their transient beauty's death, These nameless treasures men have looked upon, Dreamed, stirred and sung to, even with dying breath ? No ! God, nor gods, could so betray a trust, And bruise men's ecstasies, tho* men be dust. 5 THE HOUSE OF MEMORY ITS stairway circles 'round the human heart And he who mounts must make his way alone Up to the quiet portals, stone on stone The winged years have built, and here, apart Dwells pensive Memory — her golden dart Opens the shadowy Castle to her own, And through her halls, like sudden songs, are blown The flutes of far gone days, with tender art. Her walls are hung with hopes once high and fair, Cobwebs of care, and tremulous strands that gleam — Remnants of Youth's fine ardor, — here and there The filmy fabrics of some broken dream ; Yet, she is warm with welcome and sweet rest, And parting, locks all secrets in her breast. RECOGNITION ALONG the bastion walls of brooding Night Two shadows moved with swift and quiet tread, And through the shrouded spaces as they sped, Each of the other questioned at the sight : — "Who art thou, friend, and whither is thy flight!" And answering, "I am Silence," thus one said — "Strength of the living, daughter of the Dead, Soft-sandaled is my service, and my might. The other spake: "Tho' kinsman unto Death, Sweet is my coming, and my passing blest ; I touch the tired eyes of those that weep With dew of dream, and essences of rest; The very bounds of Life are in my breath, I am the mystery that men call Sleep." TO A TEAR WITHIN the prismic confines of thy sphere Is held the pathos of a wide world's cry, Griefs jewels thou, and laughter's fantasy, Love's shining herald, Pain's one constant peer; Caught in a child's blue eye, all crystal clear Thou seemest heaven's dew from heaven's far sky The rainbow's end on rosebud cheeks to lie, A universal message thine, O tear. Wherever life hath woven its changeful web, Scarlet of sorrow, smiles of silver hue, Whenever human fortunes flow and ebb There art thou, strong to solace and renew : Jesus, for love of Lazarus, felt thy touch And Magdalen melted, knew thee overmuch. 8 THE WOMAN DEAR Love, since thou hast taught my soul to bow Within the sacred silence of thine own, — Built for me there an altar, and a throne Whereto I bring thee all in fervent vow, Prostrate, before the white crown of thy brow My wandering, world-worn heart hath constant grown And learned such wisdom from thyself alone, It finds thee holiest of holies now. As Petrarch and his Laura, thou and I, And as beneath the burning Umbrian sky Good Francis saw his Clara, so through thee I gain the glory of a greater goal, And tho' thy dreaming eyes make wreck of me My beacon is thy soul — thy stainless soul ! TO THE MARBLE "MELISANDE" (Albright Gallery) HERE Youth and Innocence and Morning meet 'Neath thy white brow crowned with serenity, Child of the greening glades, each listening tree Knew thy chaste touch, as when thou came to greet Thy mirrored face within the pool, and sweet The fluting of thy Brother Pan sang sorcery In the deep woodland that was home to thee Fair Melisande, whose Spring was all too fleet. Ah, who would dare to dream the cruel doom The dark gods meted for thy maiden life — A bud misshapen ere it bloomed to flower A broken dream, and shards of shattered power; Love brought thee anguish, gave thee saddening strife And of his shining altar carved thy tomb ! (From the Poem "Pelleas and Melisande.") 10 "AS DOVES THAT TO THEIR WINDOWS FLY" (Isaiah 60-8.) MY heart hath known far questing, many a year, 'Cross moor and meadow, crag, and valley deep, In lonely hours hath scanned the awful sweep Of Deserts parched, and gray Seas sullen, drear ; Hath hearkened, with the friendly stars anear The unbroken tryst the ancient mountains keep; And heard the homing birds o'er nests asleep Breathe the warm message of their brooding cheer. There came ' a night, when Earth was lush with Spring — A slender moon hung slant-wise in the west, I saw the weary sheep to shelter go, The mild-eyed kine , toward fragrant stalls move slow, Then leapt within me, as some Titan thing One mastering cry "Beloved ! O, thy breast !" 11 LIMITATION I AM the molten metal, — wild with fire, Brimming and swirling in the furnace-bound; With hiss and seethe my maddened leaps resound, Xaught know I but a fierce, unleashed desire ; Now, springs the pulse of pride, as hotter, higher. Beneath me flames with scarlet spears are crowned Ah, this is Liberty ! — all else is drowned In power supreme this freedom doth inspire. But who is this, with master-brow, draws nigh, Strong with unchanging purport of His will? Lo ! in th' cool sluices of the shapen mold He guides my fiery feet with conquering eye : — I yield, — submit, — predestined to fulfill The mightier mission of a life Controlled. 12 TO A LOST HOUR THOU might 'st have been — who knows ? the destined space Wherein to rear a Memory, valorous, grand, Perchance have glimpsed in Time's slow-dropping sand A shining miracle to crown a race ; This fated hour, mayhap, in some wide place Fame waited for the grasp of thy strong hand To wrest a priceless secret from that land Whose sky is Knowledge, and whose goal, God's face. Ah me ! a wonder lyric may have flown Across the hills of Dream to seek its rest, Nameless, unshapen, save by song expressed, Whose shards of beauty to Oblivion thrown Will haunt thee still, and stir thy sterile breast Oh, thou Lost Hour, who came not to thine own. 13 TO POETS FALLEN ON SLEEP YE banished Bards who 'neath the kindly clay Sleep out the still night of the centuried years, Will springs of song gush forth to listening ears As breaks the morning of Eternal Day? Will not your hearts, long mute, leap to obey That mastering Muse who with all Dawn appears The accolade of Beauty, — she that hears, Far off, the steps of Dream upon the way? What, then, O, singing heralds, will ye write Upon the tablets of that perfect clime, As, all agleam with pearl and chrysolite, Swing slowly wide the ancient gates of Time? Ah, let not sudden splendor blind your sight, Lest sense fall swooning on the breast of rhyme ! 14 DISCONTENT STRANGE, brooding sense that bodes no quietude, A thing of fire, and strivings deep art thou, Thy touch disturbs Contentment's placid brow, Thy voice unlocks the soul's deep solitude; — Make of thy better, Best, that which is crude, Refine and strengthen, train with patient vow, Till nobler lines thine every work endow, And effort ends, at last, with Death's prelude. This mastering malady great Angelo knew, And Keats th' anointed Prince of Poetry, While hero hundreds with its spirit strew The speaking labyrinths of History: Watch well, Q, heart, and make of Discontent Divine dynamic to accomplishment! 15 EXPERIENCE STRANGE things learned I of Love these many years Since first I drank the rich wine of his grace, And read the tender promise in his face, Where lurked unnumbered dreams ; for there were tears He brought like priceless pearls, — and brooding fears That circled 'round the guerdon he did place Within my waiting hands; oft could I trace The sounds of saddened music in mine ears. Yet, hath he best of comrades been to me, And lent me secrets of his sovereign power; Had I not known the mystery of Love's dower — Its depths of pain, — its heights of ecstasy, Then had I parted with life's very breath, And lost him in the avalanche of death! 16 THE WOMAN HEART SHE sees the day fires gild the quivering East, She breathes the splendent air of zenith noon; Night's manuscript she reads, all silver-strewn, As from her measured toil she rests, released; The seasons pass, to her a fount and feast — The bitter-sweet of April; rapturous June; Soft, tawny Autumn; Winter's grim, wild rune — Through all, her hidden vigil hath not ceased. Hers is a vassalage of hope; her heart The pure white temple for one conquering song; — Somewhere, through ages that none reckoneth, His soul waits hers, — perchance, in worlds apart ; But she her dream holds strong, as life is strong, To be her beacon at the doors of death. 17 EXPECTANCY FAR out upon the ocean's utmost rim A loitering ship drifts 'gainst a silver sky. The blue sea surges all unheedingly, The winds ring out the wide noon's echoing hymn; Beneath a vagrant cloud, her gay wings, dim In sudden shadow, cleave the wave; — on high The zenith sun shatters the canopy, And flings a rainbow where the sea-birds skim. So is a little hope within my breast ; On the broad billows of my restless life, With yearning eyes I watch its fluttering sail, Now deep in mist, now by some favoring gale Close to my harboring heart ! O, friendly strife, Bend the fair prow on to its love-locked rest. 18 THE LIGHT-SHIP POISED like a sea-gull on the restless wave, She rides at anchor in her lone estate, Staunch as a stately fortress and as brave, Hers is a silent service there to wait; And motherwise, with finger pressed to lips She lulls by ceaseless watch the burdening fears Of all her children who fare forth in ships Through the still marches of the laggard years. Sun-wooed by summer, stark with winter's breath, She knows no season, heeds nor day nor night, Piercing the black deeps with her eyes of light, She robs the waters of their dole of death; And like a wing'd warder of fair flight, "Welcome — and speed thee on," is what she saith. 19 SONNET OF A SEA LOVER WHAT means this willing vassalage I pay O, mystery Mother, over brooding sea? Thy moon-lured tides, in utter constancy Are not more steadfast than my heart alway; No monarch mountain, no fresh mead of May, No rainbow river, rippling melody, No hoard of gold the royal sun flings free Holds me in thrall like thine own sovereign sway. Perchance good Triton in some vanished year Bound my free spirit with his spindrift song — Blown wild for Neptune and his Nereid throng, And sentient still, the great deep's call I hear, While the mad waves, in ecstasy upborne Sound the clear signals of the Sea god's horn. 20 PRESCIENCE OH wondrous filament of human brain Thou deft discoverer of hidden thought! By what skilled magic is thy lesson taught With all the subtle fancies in its train? Deep in the mind's repose where thou dost reign Thy sentient ear lists to the throbbing heart Of all experience, — our human part; The ache of grief, the bitter sting of pain, Joy's rapturous carol, antiphons of Love, All these, and more, thy listening senses move, Till by the cunning of thy pliant keys Thou dost unlock a thousand mysteries ! In thee do all Life's cloistered secrets meet, Oh Prescience, gift of God so strangely sweet. 21 THE SINAI OF THE SOUL NO stately altar, fair with sculptured art, Nor pleading priest, whose vestment's glimmer- ing sheen Mirrors the sunlight's wondrous crystalline, Is needed for the throbbing human heart; There lies, within a soundless depth, apart, One tried tribunal, changeless and unseen, Where judgment waits — and none may intervene — The Coronal of Conscience and its chart. King David, down the hastening years of time, Knew the corroding curse its sentence brought And many an anguish in immortal psalm Reveals its power, — no transient peace may calm The soul with fretting accusation fraught; Yet, stands this ancient Sinai sublime. 22 THE NATIVITY HIS midnight on Judea's hushed plain; About the hill-fires, dimly smoldering, The shepherds, wan with chill, are hovering; The silent stars, — Orion and his train, — Hang like archangels' lamps, a lustrous chain Of glimmerng gems against the breast of night. When, lo ! above them all a princely light Resplendent glows, and glowing, does not wane. The Bethlehem world and its sojourners all, Beleaguered by this nameless mystery, One to another loudly questioning call : — "What means this thrilling advent which we see?' Oh, slumberous souls, dullards to prophecy. Star-herald this of Christ's Nativity. 23 THE WOODS HERE in the sunlit silence of the woods, Like world-worn, restless children, we may learn The hidden haunts of peace the heart doth yearn; For in these wonder-woodland solitudes 'Tis as the soul's shut house where none intrudes; Here lyric breezes, spiced with the tang of fern — Filched from deep dales the eyes may not discern, Are singing preludes to more perfect moods. Here, in dusk-chambers, shadow-roofed and screened, The golden glooms are full of fluted rhyme, As if, perchance, in a dear distant time A Dryad-dreamer rapturous music gleaned, And, startled by some alien sorceries, Had vanished, leaving songs among the trees. 24 MIRAGE IN the wide reaches of the desert's glare, Like imagery from some far, cooling land— A phantom picture by a phantom hand — It rises, o'er the red rocks, burnt and bare, And sand-wastes, torrid 'neath the sun's wild stare,— Dim, quavering palms whose feathery fronds are fanned By winds across an azure sky, where stand Its crystal towers in the limpid air. Ah, sweet, upon my lonely desert skies, Now and again doth mirroring memory spread Such dear enchantment — life's Mirage to me; Two placid pools are always there — your eyes, Irradiant glory shimmers from your head, — And peace, that breathes of love's eternity. 25 SEA SONG OF ITALY GO forth, my thoughts a-sailing for today Upon the billowy sea of Memory, Thy white wings be my faithful Mercury And waft me to a dreamland far away. Croon me a song, wild winds that scatter spray, My heart is yearning to be far and free, Since I would see the domes of Italy, There is no fleeter messenger — nor way. Bespeak for me old Neptune's kindly will, Pray that his trusty trident cleaves the storm, So battle for me 'gainst all hidden harm My dream-tide argosy finds harbor still : Then fly, my thoughts — the world is yours today. And sea and wind wait only to obey! 26 TO AN INDIA SHAWL SOME splendid dreamer set thee forth withal In tragic India, whose burning blues Are blended softly with thy brilliant hues As on a painter's canvas, ancient shawl; I hear in thee the parrot's screaming call — The Temple bells a-sway ; see lofty palms That lift green pennons in the arid calms, And Indian nights, mysterious as a pall. I fold about me Beauty born of toil, The olden Suttee flame I trace in thee That curves and swirls in deftest intricacy With scarlet stain, in flower and trefoil; I dream of lambs who yielded their warm wool — O, life from life, how strange, how beautiful ! Minnie Ferris Hauenstein. 27 THE WINGS OF SONG THROUGH the long watches of the laggard night I heard the rustle of the wings of song; As quavering chants that far-off choirs prolong So were the flutterings of her passing flight; With yearning ears, and ever-sensient sight, I harkened for her cadence full and strong — That measured word for which God's singers long, Whose rhythmic service is an holy rite. But only glimmering shards of music seemed To lie in scattered waste upon my heart, The altar offering that was dearly dreamed Lay, in the dawn, a broken thing, apart; — When, lo ! at evening, in the hallowed hush, I caught its splendor from a lyric thrush. 28 THE WINTER OF SPRING I DID not ask that Love should come and stay Beneath the roof-tree of my quiet heart; Sufficient solace did each day impart, While friends and fortune fared along my way; But, lo ! Love came one silent, wistful day, And sowed the seed of dreams within my soul ; I did not heed what might portend the goal Of life's first promise, — could not deem her clay Whose eyes were heaven to me, — deep beryl blue, That read the very thoughts within my breast, Whose lips had caught the mountain berry's hue, That in new ecstasy I wondering pressed ; O, blight of Love ! how all my life is riven Since Winter grasps what Spring unsought hath given ! 29 MOTHER-MONTH BRAVE, burgeoning April, mother of the year, When the worn snows lie tarnished on the wold, Dost thou not feel beneath the yielding mold Deep thrills of genesis — the struggle far and near Of unborn lives, that, each in mystic sphere, Unceasing builds through wrappings manifold — As did the irised Nautilus of old, Expectant, to perfection and to cheer? Hope is handmaiden to thy melting breast Where stored is sustenance for bough and bloom For fledgling flights, that later stir the nest, And youth's wild ichor, summer's spiced perfume, For dreams, desires, and songs yet unexpressed. O, Mother-month, how wide thy fertile womb ! 30 THE SPENDTHRIFT DAY THERE are wavering gleams in the woodway aisle, Serpentine ribbands of noonday sun, Spent-gold scattered wide where the green things run Wild riot of boscage and bough; the smile Of a thousand suns is snared in the wile Of the ponderous oaks, the stalwart pines, And the larches tall with their sinuous lines Like fugitive coins from a miser's pile. The Spendthrift Day from his hoarded pelf Flings wide the gain that the Night laid by, Night that gave only her silver of self, Yet his seeming largess is nothing, for I Have seen him upgather his countless wealth To his darkling breast in the twilight's stealth. 31 IN SAMARIA THE zenith sun o'er Sychar fiercely burned Upon the dusty highway, rough and worn, — Samaria! the God-forgotten, torn By darkest sin, the Master's heart discerned, And knowing, for its purity He yearned ; Weary He came, and at the ancient well Asked for a cooling draught, and it befell Who gave it, proved a woman by men spurned. His searching eyes read all her scarlet soul, Her life, a blackened page, He bade her see, Yet, by His marvelous love, all tenderly Withheld His condemnation, and the whole Great deeps of Living Water poured her free, And set her spirit the Eternal goal. 32 THE BOND TAKE thou my hand, and look into my eyes Who have known Life, and Death, and Mystery, Have seen new petals blown from the blossoming tree By fiercest blast ; — betwixt us, open, lies The Book of deep Experience, friendly-wise; Come but the nearer, thy warm glance may see The mark an Angel leaves, whose argosy Sails silent seas, and gray her pennon flies. Her name is Sorrow, and with every day She makes her moorings in the hearts of men; Thou too ! Do I discover thou hast heard Her sudden call — inexorable word — The grating prow upon thy shore? Ah, then We two must walk with Memory all our way. 33 A REPENTANT SUMMER AS some despairing day drifts toward the West, Companioned with the shadows of the Night, Robbed of her love the Sun, that was her right, So has our Summer faltered to her rest With darkling garments flung across her breast ; Yet, as a vagrant wind rents wide the cloud Of tearful evening, till, with shattered shroud, She shows a golden glance before unguessed ; Thus has sweet Summer turned repenting face, And loosed the gloomy vesture which she wore, As now she reigns, throat-deep in gold once more, A very queen throned on her royal place : Ah, Summer, from thy long-delayed largess Comes now the solace of one last caress. TO GOLDENROD WHY is it that thy golden-freighted plume Swings like some saddening censer 'neath my gaze, As down sun-sprinkled deeps of woodland ways I wander in the day's late lustrous gloom? Tho' ruddy sumacs glow where Autumn's loom Weaves her wide tapestries of reds and grays, The bronzing boscage frames a wistful maze With haunting sorrow in its rich perfume. Ah me ! the sun-tide season bides not long When once she spreads her cloth of fringed gold ; With quivering lip she feels the clamorous cold, Yet lingers, siren-wise, with broken song: Then, Goldenrod, heart-sad, I hold thee fast, Of all the summer's largess thou art last ! 35 SONG-DOWER WITH sound uncertain as the wilding bird, Whose cadence soars beyond the ken of sight, So comest thou, O, phantom of delight, Whose dearest dower is lilt of measured word : Deep in the soul's close cavern, all unheard, A lyre awaits thy touch, — so deftly stringed Its answering melody is straightway winged When o'er its heart thy burning airs are stirred. Fair mystery that haunts, caresses oft, Yet stabs the soul with an insistent fear That in some yearning hour, with passing soft The far faint music of its flight I hear; No keener ill could barren Fate make mine Than to forswear me thee, O, gift divine. 36 A SUNSET IDYL OH, drifting clouds and dreams are sister things, A shadow-world that moves in still delight, A magic kingdom, moated by the night ; Like alien stars in their wild wanderings, Their turrets rise, and burnished sunsettings Crown with blent gold their battlements and spires : There is a Castle with its windowed fires, And there is a mystic seraphim, whose wings Gleam with the prismic opals of the sky ; From far a royal galleon draws nigh, Gem-prowed and treasure-heaped, whose harbor bay Lies in the pathway of the dying day. Ah! transient idyl, — fashioned but in vain, Since Night now fills the silent, star-sown plain. 37 LOVE'S APRIL OH, let us pause, dear heart, a little while Here in Love's early April, as its life Surges with promise, and its buds are rife With heart-hopes slowly opening in each smile ; Now, ere the summer with sun-fires beguile Our vibrant souls on to dim autumn's reign, When the first tenderness of love is slain By plenteous ecstasy, and passing wile. The ripened riches garnered on life's way Shall then be ours, but now this April day Holds us in thrall ! all springtime joy is ours That brings the presage of Love's perfect powers; Now may we see, through brimming tears and sighs, The long sweet future in each other's eyes. 38 SONNET IN MONOTONE ALL the long night the surges cleave the strand — Undaunted sea-waifs from some distant home, Flinging the jewels of their crested foam Upon the white floor of the soundless sand ; The warrior winds, that men nor tides withstand, Shrill their wild orders 'neath the star-sprent dome, With marshalled forces where the breakers comb In ceaseless struggle toward their lord, the land. So break I, on your cold, unanswering breast, And search with sighs the secret of your soul ; — Heart of my heart, hath pity never pressed Disdain and silence from their high control? And must I, lonely, lost, and uncaressed, Back to Life's ocean, like these wave-deeps roll? 39 THE TRUCE FOLD me, beloved, in thy dear arms strong, And doubly sure since I am now forgiven, I, who with myself have plead and striven And conquered, though the way was lone and long ; The sweet grace of your smile 'gainst my poor wrong Is like clear shining after thunderous black — Or more, the loosening of an irksome pack From off the shoulders of my heart, whose song Breaks on my lips that silent were; we twain Must live the first full days of faith again, And bury far and deep for love's dear sake The bruising sorrow of that sad mistake; Now are our souls not two, but one for aye, Sealed by suffering to God's judgment day! 40 LOVE'S LOYALTY I SAID to Love, what is the price I pay To gain thy gracious favor ? Shall I bring The hoarded riches of my wandering — Gold raiment, redolent of far Cathay, The broidered glories of an ancient day With musky odors saturate, that fling The Orient's incense on the breeze's wing?- Or jewels glimmering like the heart of May ? Would noble name or deed of high emprise, Or fame, or laureled Honor win for me The cherished largess of love-laden eyes? Then Love rose up and answered, scornfully, "Dost think with these to barter for my prize? My very coming is Life's Mystery/' 41 RENUNCIATION SINCE I must live, yet shut thee from my soul, Renounce the grave sweet language of thine eyes — That far above all speech I dearly prize, Fix my crushed purpose to some alien goal That wears no hint of Love's fair aureole, Then, Dearest, since my hope so cruelly dies, Invoke for me the freighted argosies Of kindly sleep, that in its rapt control I rest, and know the solace of deep dream ; That what is not may for the moment seem Truth's very self ! — dead ecstasies that fill My hungering heart with their illusive thrill ; And beg for me (O, poor and paltry bliss) The dreamed benediction of your kiss. 42 PEARLS I DREAMED a Coronet upon my hair, A shimmering strand of pearls about my throat, And on each arm a circlet, lustrous fair Searched for in crystal fathoms, far remote; And of my priceless jewels men might note Beauty and form and color, passing rare, O'er which the breathless divers wondering gloat, Such glorious gems as stately Queens might wear. Ah me, in very truth, the dream was mine, A precious crown I know upon my brow Holy as heaven, sweet with a mother's vow As round my wrists warm, roseleaf fingers twine; And if my pearls were proven tears to be Dear God, they gleam with love of child, and Thee ! 43 WHEN LOVE WALKS NEAR WHEN Love walks near 'tis heaven for you and me, It startles all the sweetness in your eyes With mingled light of fear and faint surmise At the wild wonder of its mystery; And in the rose upon your cheek I see The drift of dreams that on our hearts' flood rise. Kin to deep yearnings and unspoken sighs — The dearest dower in all life's prophecy. Ah, Love, your feet, tho' shod with sheen of mist And shadowy as the dewy dawn of day, We hear like summoning music on our way, And, all unheeding, hasten to thy tryst, Knowing thine honeyed schemes imperial are, And fixed as sun, as planet, or as star! 44 EXILED LOVE passed my way, I looked into his eyes And asked how far he fared and what his quest, I begged him bide within my house and rest, And know the warmth that on my hearthstone lies ; I fed my flickering flame that otherwise Had smoldered to white ash, and swiftly dressed My candles all alight — (O, hungry breast, That yearns the solace of his precious prize!) And yet, and yet, he spurned my unbarred door — I heard his flying feet across the dale ; He turned, as 'twere soft pity did prevail One moment, then, on-hastening still the more, He cried, above the winds in accents thin, "The heart I sought for would not let me in !" 45 RAIN SONG THE day fares dark — a sullen, sodden thing, The furrowed clouds hang fretted by the wind, Earth turns a gaunt face, dreary and unkind, A bird in silence folds a dripping wing While Night waits near her covering cloak to fling Around the old world's bent and weary back, From out a hinterland of sombre black, And no faint crimson marks the sunsetting. Yet, eyes of mine, oppressed with rain of tears Somewhere the sovereign sun spills golden fire, No tide there is but hath its ebb and flow No year that wears a twelve-month crown of snow, Somehow gray sadness yields to dear desire And morning's miracle gives flight to fears! 4 6 MONADNOCK YOU wear your green as Kings their robes of State— Broidering balsams, arabesques of fir, Across your breast the mists weave miniver, And on your shoulders falls the purple weight Of ponderous pines with odors saturate ; Yours is a calm of ancient, august worth — An earliest hero of the formless earth That, destined, sprang to Beauty dedicate. Magnificent, aloof, alone you wait The changing seasons of the changing year, They find you constant, radiant and elate A watch tower of the valleys, far and near ; Companion of the clouds, a friend to stars, No elemental rage your quiet mars! 47 GETHSEMANE AGED and gnarled olives bend o'er Him, Oh! the shadows deep and the mystery! Oh! the garden drear and the Crosses three! Kind solace pour from every branch and limb; His cup of anguish to the bitter brim O'erflows ; beneath Iscariot's perfidy, And cowering Peter's sin, spent hopelessly He gropes and suffers 'mid the wood-paths dim, And cries, "Am I alone? No outstretched hand To give me succor that I grief withstand?" Oh! faithless, slumbrous, unaccounting friends, Small peace your presence to the Master lends. Oh ! the shadows deep and the mystery ! Oh ! the garden drear and the Crosses three ! 4 S AMOS, THE PROPHET (An ancient lesson with a modern meaning.) ROUGH hewn was Amos, man of granite mold, An uncouth messenger of lesser fame, A homeless herdsman 'neath the moon's white flame Who read the mysteries the great stars hold; In whirlwind storms his prophecies he told And all the Syrian hills were resonant when God spake his judgment on unholy men Whose sins blazed scarlet in a world grown bold. Damascus, silken swathed, knew his hot word And Moab mighty, and walled Gaza proud, "Thus saith the Lord" chosen Judah heard That sped a javelin warning far and loud; O, my America, in chaos wild Thou too ! Thou too ! Art God's accounting child. 49 DANTE THO' six momentous Centuries have rolled by Dante, a wide world pays thee reverent heed, Today thine every noble thought and deed Are beacons in the Book of Memory ; The kindling Sun that flamed the Tuscan sky Bore black with bitterness of weary woe, Life gave thee but scant peace, yet in the glow Of thy great spirit Dream could never die. Love gave thee promise, yet withheld the gift, Thy way fared darkling, still, one splendid rift Beamed through deep shadow as a constant star ; Tho' exiled, bruised, forsaken of thy kind All things that were, to be, and, fateful are Triumph in Right, the edict of God's mind ! 50 "AT THE TOMB OF JULIET" (Verona.) THO' Time be master in this ancient tomb — Windswept and broken by dead centuries, Gray with the desolation of deep gloom And lichened o'er with mossy ooze, that frees The moldy odors of long years — yet, here Aye, here, is life, and rapturous memory, Laughter and light, and only a moon-beam tear Shed in sheer bliss of dawning ecstasy. Immortal Juliet, loved of the wide earth, Better to lie within this crumbling stone Silent in rest, than never to have known That fairest, rarest dream, whose tender worth Breaks the white portals of Eternity, For Love is all, tho' Pain its shadow be! 51 EVENING ON CASCO BAY 1SAW a sea gull winging toward the West Whose wavering pinions cut the crimson sun,- A graying sail — the long day's service done Leaned haven- ward to gain desired rest; The little waves, out bound on morning's quest Came lispingly up to the sand's white floor, As tired children seek home's welcoming door, Evening and roof -tree — all Life's loveliest. So shall it be when my day's light shall pass, — A sudden cloud upon the shining Sea, A first, faint shadow on the quiet grass, Darkness that drifts and deepens silently; — A dim forgetting of the things that are, Night! and the silver of one beckoning star. 5* SONG OF AN OLD SAILING SHIP I AM content to rest my plunging prow, My sails that thrilled to winds on seven seas, My mammoth hold that knew the destinies Of thick sewn bales, redolent even now With tangy odors Orient ports bestow — Sharp, pungent camphor from an Asian bough — Acacia buds, teak, mellow ivories, Dull brass from Ascalon, fine filgrees, Mysterious chests that certain merchants know. And there were royal rugs from Ispahan The burdened camels brought by caravan, Like these, I am at rest, and silent lie. No more my masts shall bend with shivering creak, Nor shall my Captain's voice, commanding speak — We have found our last harbor, he and I. Minnie Ferris Hauenstein. 53 TWO SONNETS TO COLUMBUS (Spanish translations.) EMBARKATION. 9r T l WAS splendid faith that bade thy trusty barque A Cut deep the channels of an unknown sea, Where voyager before left naught to thee Of chart or compass the wide way to mark ; Out-stretched the ocean lay — shrouded and dark; Behind, the laughing, vine-clad hills of Spain, — Thy heart was dauntless towards the billowing main, The hot sirocco and the waiting shark. On board the caravels days wear to weeks, Months move like sullen laggards under chains, While every heart despairingly complains Against the calm commander ; — what he seeks, They sigh, is some enchanted, fatuous goal — A wearying dream — the epic of his soul. 54 THE NEW WORLD STILL Hope sang sweetly in his sentient ear, On wafted winds from the soft murmuring shoal, And great Columbus, kingly in control, Saw each long day's declining without fear ; Sublime his patience ! and in vision clear He saw a new world — as God's hand to be Free from the stain of ancient infamy — Unsullied, pure — a Virgin Hemisphere. At last the herald-sun arose that day, When faith found rich fruition; towering trees Flaunted their fair green pennons 'gainst the sky, The ardent mariners on bended knees Kissed the white sands in very ecstasy : Then gleamed a cross upon the new-found way! 55 ULTIMATUM THERE is no death for loveliness or love, Tho' strife and stress, and hate and wrecking grief Be tyrannous and dire, their power, so brief, The human heart hath wings to soar above; The sun stays not his grandeur for a cloud, The moon in silver triumph mounts the storm, All Nature moves to perfect, changeless form, A mastering miracle by Time avowed. There is more glory in fine, selfless lives — Compelling beauty, that all pride survives, Than all the pomp and pageantry of earth ; More to be valued in the scales of worth The pleasant aisles where Service walks abroad, Since love is deathless and since God is God. 56 TO KEATS THOU wert a star above an English lea, Thy Silvery petals broke upon the cool Dark mirror of some quiet, hidden pool Whose under-flooding was the mighty Sea; A burst of music, thou, in England's ear Clear as the hymning of a Grecian lute On far Hellenic hills, yet, heedless, mute To thine all potent beauty, who would hear ? Ah, yearning youth, the years have hailed thee on, Up the white stones that are the temple stair, Where the world's great, their lustrous laurels won Breathe deep, for aye, God's pure unsullied air ; Here art thou, Keats, thy singing spirit free Thou, the immortal Prince of Poetry ! 57 UNDERSTANDING ONLY a glance, a touch, and all is said When mutual minds pursue a kindred goal, No need remains for words to stir the soul — A soul by listening love inhabited ; My friend is as mine own in thought, desire, And, poised and winged, I share each potent flight, No dream hath she, of some far splendid height But sudden songs my gladdened heart inspire. O, comradeship that conquers by its grace, Thou art the flame that is the torch, held high, — The light that gleams within the lamp's embrace Prevailing sun that rims a darkened sky ; A song art thou, the dullest ear may trace — A glistening halo 'round the commonplace ! 58 TO ONE UNLOVED UNKIND was Life to dower thee overmuch Since Love has passed thee in his golden quest, Tho' drinking deep of beauty, all the zest Is lost to thee without Love's tear and touch ; What were thine eyes, all heavenly pure and such A blue as violets wear; thy lips unpressed, The ivory wonder of thy maiden breast, While cruel Life withholds, yet gives so much. What wasted twilights and unmeaning Junes Like shadowy ghosts tread through the years with thee, The silvery sorceries of countless moons Are as the muted rhythm of the sea ; Here nightingales pour forth unanswered tunes, Here blooms a rose where breathes no hungering bee. 59 SACRAMENT COOL, in the shrouding shadows of the night, The table in that Upper Room was laid; No glittering goblet there, no cloth arrayed In silver broideries, — only the white Of one poor wheaten loaf to glad the sight, One cup for all, Betrayer and Betrayed ; O'er these in deepest thanks the Master prayed, Unheeding gloom and taunt of vanquished might. Beloved Christ, so patient in Thy pain, I shrink to own my starveling heart of fear That counts the petty coin of common care As 'twere some Calvary, or thorn-cut stain ! O, let me breathe that faith-charged atmosphere That made Thee conquer even Death's despair. 60 PREPARATION LORD, I would bide awhile with Thee to-day; I need the speaking silence of Thy voice And changeless sympathy, now — while the noise Of battling arms sweeps all along my way; Not that I fear to fight, Nay, Lord, twice nay ! Rather, the breast-plate of Thy perfect poise I beg Thou gird on me; — such steel destroys The leveled lances of sin's broad array. In the deep quiet of this mutual hour, If Thou wilt bind my brow with coronal, Let it be neither fame nor wordly power, But Patient Peace that knows no weaponed call ; If I be shod with strength as Thou art strong, So shall I march to Contest, even with song ! 61 THE SHEPHERD'S PSALM LIKE shafts of sunlight through a darkened day A song of comfort is this shining psalm, For tired, timid, lonely hearts what balm Gushes in crystal springs along its way ; Six lilting stanzas challenge all dismay, Here certainty, content and blessed rest, Refreshment, guidance, food in pastures blest The loving Shepherd spreads for us alway. Ah, joy of the anointed — this is here — The cup o'erflowing to our waiting lips — Continuous mercy as life's long day slips, And light that robs the shadowy vale of fear ; Soft, singing psalm, my soul leaps to thy praise That builds a vision of God's endless days. 62 "THE BODY IS THE BOAT— THE HEART THE SAIL" (From an ancient poem.) UPON the sparkling billows of Life's sea 'Round the blue cape of Circumstance I sail, Nor know if harboring haven waits for me Or wrecking shoal where trusted chart may fail; Yet that deep urge that moves me ceaselessly Is both a beacon and a questioning prayer, O, to be sure, — but that can never be Since I am only I, led by God's care. He may not grant me certainty or sight, Nor knowledge of the trackless ocean tides, But this I have — assurance of His might And faith serene that strengthens and abides ; Then, forth my boat, brave to each battling gale For mine the Captain, compass, and the sail! 63 TO ITALY WARMED by my life-blood, shadowed by my heart, There rests a shrine, thine own, fair Italy, And envoys of my dreams on wing to thee Bear tender longings that to-day upstart. O, vine-weathered terraces, O, fruit-heaped mart, Ye towers and bells, and stones of storied arch With legends rich, — where gallant spirits march Down History's circling aisles ; what part Ye play on Italy's wide page ! I fain Would breathe your ancient, charmed air again: Your marbled dreams and sculptured symphonies With Heaven-touched Art, outlive the centuries : Tho' lost years filter through the rifts of Time, Thy memory lingers like an echoing chime. 64 IN ST. PETER'S AT ROME LIFT high the leathern curtain, let mine eyes Behold the splendor of this mighty fane, A World's Cathedral in whose wide domain, Such glories meet as herald Paradise; Down mellowed aisles majestic columns rise In marble, bronze, and porphyry; here ne'er wane The cinctured fires beneath whose light hath lain Through centuries long Rome's ancient sacrifice. Here Art in sculpture lays her chisel down To dry her tears above immortal tombs. And captured rainbows in mosaics thrown, Irradiate the vasty, graven glooms; Here hovering Heaven might find on earth a home Within the grandeur of great Angelo's dome. 65 UNFORGETFUJ NESS AS some persistent, haunting melody Breathes oi long-sainted, unforgotten things, So to uiv soul on quiet, shadow)! wings Prifts a dear dream oi olden ecstasy ! — You gave me onee a rose, and as 1 ove's fee Piopped mid its leaves a kiss, with whispering \ on read to roe a verse Its lilt still sings When loneliness knows rest in reverie. What wells of peaee I found in your deep eves. Heart of nn heart, whose every word brought JOYj No blight, thought we. could ever more destro) The wonder of our love; yet, the wild cries Of Memory I hush with mute command, For only you could know, or understand! 66 TO •'■• Bn OLD I I [7 'are thy depths, Q, filmy bee, ■ Where stately stitches move w ^d, As on they march, all to the pattern wed, A mellow memory, v. out with grace ; '-.'-/: h;/.:. fiv.v-.: ar.'i ::>:: ''..:. y ■'.-"■',[ !