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 MEDLEY AND PALESTINA 
 
 J. w: DkFOREST 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE DOWNING LEGENDS, A LOVER'S REVOLT, PLAYING THE 
 
 MISCHIEF, JUSTINE'S LOVERS, KATE BEAUMONT, OVERLAND, 
 
 THE WETHERELL AFFAIR, HONEST JOHN VANE, 
 
 MISS RAVENEL'S CONVERSION, ETC., ETC- 
 
 NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT : 
 The Tuttle, Morehouse & Taylor Company 
 
 PUBLISHERS and PRINTERS 
 1902 
 

 »H6 LJ««A«V ®ir] 
 0ONGi?gSS, 
 
 [TwoCoftM ft£C6lVfi»| 
 
 fEB. f4 1902 
 
 ^C©f»y«(QHT BNTRy 
 
 L-Asa ^ xxa «««. 
 
 COPY 3. 
 
 .,x^i 
 
 Copyright, 1902, 
 
 by 
 
 John W. DeForest. 
 
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CONTENTS 
 
 MEDLEY 
 
 Under -the Colors 
 
 The Battalion, 3 
 
 The Combat, . . .■.'••. . . . 4 
 
 Campaigning, . . • . •. . . . . 6 
 
 Forward, ii 
 
 The Storming Column, . . . . , . 11 
 
 The Bloody Grove, 13 
 
 Lost and Won, ........ 14 
 
 The Battle Flag, 17 
 
 The Boy Soldier, 18 
 
 After the War, 19 
 
 The Echo Drummer, ....... 21 
 
 Pickett's Charge, ........ 23 
 
 Raven Van Ross, ........ 24 
 
 Recollections and Reveries 
 
 The Phantom Ship, ....... 29 
 
 The City of Souls, ....... 30 
 
 The Owl, 31 
 
 The Tableau Vivant, 33 
 
 Romances, ......... 34 
 
 Hail, Augusta, ........ 36 
 
 The Archer's Plea, 37 
 
 The Skater, 39 
 
 The Solo, ......... 40 
 
IV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Haunted Lady, 
 
 The Coming Goodbye, 
 
 Recollection, 
 
 Separation, 
 
 Cherished Illusions, 
 
 Sunset on Lebanon, 
 
 The Lottery Valentine, 
 
 Underneath, . 
 
 The Wizard, 
 
 Despondencies, 
 
 En Voyage, 
 
 New York Bay in 1624, 
 
 The Oldtime Village, . 
 
 Tales and 
 A Seaside Story, . 
 
 I The Mermaiden, 
 II The Seaside Lake 
 
 III The Meeting,. 
 
 IV Remembrance, 
 Tender and True, 
 
 I The Stroll, . 
 II A Hope, 
 
 III The Wedding, 
 
 IV The Grove, 
 V The Sleep, 
 
 VI The Dead March, 
 The Same in the Ending, 
 The Vestal, . 
 The Bishop of Thule, . 
 The Lost Hunter, 
 
 Ballads 
 
 41 
 
 41 
 42 
 
 43 
 44 
 45 
 46 
 47 
 48 
 
 49 
 50 
 
 51 
 53 
 
 57 
 57 
 58 
 58 
 59 
 60 
 60 
 61 
 62 
 64 
 65 
 67 
 68 
 69 
 70 
 72 
 
CONTENTS. V 
 
 The Goat, ......... 73 
 
 A Fable of Salem, 75 
 
 The Brave, ......... 76 
 
 The Pilgrim, . . . . . . . -77 
 
 The Demon's Story, 78 
 
 The Dark Comrade, ....... 78 
 
 Calenture, . . . . . . . . .79 
 
 The Plaything Sky, 80 
 
 The Fastidious Goblin, . . . . . .82 
 
 The Old Knight and the Damozel, .... 84 
 
 The Vanished Castle, ....... 87 
 
 Niffer, 88 
 
 The Oldtime People, 89 
 
 Lochinvar in the South, ...... 89 
 
 Judge Boodle, ........ 91 
 
 The Cannibal Conquest, ...... 96 
 
 PALESTINA 
 The Battle of the Kings (Genesis, xiv), . . .101 
 
 Joseph, 112 
 
 Delilah, . . . . . . . . .113 
 
 Gilboa (I Samuel, xxviii, xxxi, and sequel), . . 114 
 
 The Pastor 
 The Vision (Job, iv, 13-21), 131 
 
 The Despondent (Job, ix, 25-26; x, 18-22), 
 The Human (Job, xiv, 1-14 and 21), . 
 The Redeemer (Job, xix, 2-26), . . . . 
 The Fall of the Evil (Job, xxi, 7-18 and 28-30), 
 The Divine (Job, xxv), . . . . . 
 
 132 
 133 
 134 
 135 
 136 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Bard 
 
 The Gracious (Psalm, viii), 
 
 The Deliverer (Psalm, xiii), 
 
 The Protector (Psalm, xx), 
 
 The Avenger (Psalm, Ixx), 
 
 The Splendor of Jehovah (Psalm, xcvii) 
 
 The Unchangeable (Psalm, cii), 
 
 The Merciful (Psalm, cxlv, 1-18) 
 
 Adoration (Psalm, cxviii), . 
 
 139 
 140 
 141 
 142 
 142 
 144 
 145 
 146 
 
 The Burden of Samaria 
 Jeroboam (I Kings, xii, 28-33), • • • • -151 
 
 Ahijah's Curse (I Kings, xiv, passim), . . .151 
 Elijah's Curse (I Kings, xvi, 30-34, and xvii, i), . 152 
 
 Carmel (I Kings, xviii, 17-40), 153 
 
 The Death of Ahab (I Kings, xxii, passim), . . 154 
 Jezebel at the Window (II Kings, ix, 30-37), . . 156 
 Hosea's Curse (Hosea, passim), .... 156 
 
 The Story of Jerusalem 
 The Messenger (Isaiah, vi, 1-8), 
 The Message (Isaiah, ii, 8-22), . 
 The Curse (Isaiah, Ivii, 1-13), 
 The Judgment (Ezekiel, vi, 1-7), 
 The Fast (Isaiah, Iviii, 3-10), 
 The City of Destruction (Isaiah, passim), 
 The Chambers of Imagery (Ezekiel, viii). 
 The Warning (Joel, ii, 1-14), 
 The Spoiler (Jeremiah, vi, 19-26), 
 The Siege (Jeremiah, xiv, 18-21), 
 
 161 
 162 
 163 
 165 
 166 
 167 
 168 
 169 
 171 
 172 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Vll 
 
 19 
 
 Overthrow (Jeremiah, iv, 23-28), 
 
 Unsepulchred (Jeremiah, viii, 1-3, and Isaiah, ii 
 
 and 21), 
 
 The Sorrowful City (Lamentations, i, i-5), 
 
 The Lament (Lamentations, v), . 
 
 By the Rivers of Babylon (Psalm, cxxxvii) 
 
 The Vision of the Glory (Ezekiel, i, 3-26), 
 
 The Scroll of Retribution (Ezekiel, i, 26-28, and ii) 
 
 The Burden of Tyre (Ezekiel, xxvi and xxvii), 
 
 The Burden of Babylon (Isaiah, xiii, passim) 
 
 The Feast of Bel (Daniel, v), 
 
 Lucifer (Isaiah, xiv, 4-20), . 
 
 Appeal (Isaiah, Ixiv), . 
 
 Hope in Sorrow (Lamentations, iii), 
 
 The Promise (Isaiah, i, 4-20), 
 
 The Revival (Ezekiel, xxxvii, 1-14), 
 
 The Return (Jeremiah, xxx, 17-22, and xxxi, 8 and 9), 
 
 Re'establishment (Jeremiah, xxxiii, 7-13), . 
 
 173 
 
 174 
 175 
 175 
 176 
 178 
 180 
 181 
 183 
 184 
 192 
 193 
 195 
 196 
 197 
 199 
 200 
 
 The New Glory 
 The Man of Sorrows (Isaiah, liii), 
 The Fathers (Hebrews, xi, 32-39), 
 The Heralds (Revelation, viii, ix and x). 
 The Golden City (Revelation, xxi). 
 The White Robed (Revelation, vii, 9-17), 
 
 203 
 
 204 
 205 
 206 
 208 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Under the Colors. 
 
 Counting service in war and in peace, I was six 
 and a half years under the colors. I was in three 
 storming parties, six days of field engagement, and 
 thirty-seven days of siege duty, making forty-six days 
 under fire. 
 
 My chief regret with regard to this matter is that I 
 could not take part in one of the greater battles, such 
 as Gettysburg or Chickamauga. I am not only glad, 
 but I am sincerely thankful that I did not miss Port 
 Hudson and the final victories in the Shenandoah 
 Valley. In the finishing fight there I was on the staff 
 of General Emory, carrying various orders for him 
 and one for General Sheridan. 
 
 In "Under the Colors" there are souvenirs of several 
 of my fighting days. "The Combat" refers to the 
 engagement of Labadieville, or Georgia Landing, in 
 Louisiana. "Forward" was suggested by an incident 
 of Banks' first attempt to carry Port Hudson. "The 
 Storming Column" sketches the night assault of June 
 19th, on the same, fortress. "The Bloody Grove" is 
 a recollection of a sanguinary struggle for a little 
 woodland during Sheridan's battle of The Opequan. 
 "Lost and Won" narrates a small part of what I saw 
 in the famous fight of Cedar Creek. 
 
x preface. 
 
 Recollections and Reveries. 
 
 ''The Phantom Ship" sketches the famous Palatine 
 Light of Block Island, as it appeared to myself. In 
 order to show it as it has appeared to other and more 
 gifted eyes, I copy here some of the testimony which 
 I took down from the lips of an insular witness. 
 
 'T was a-rakin seaweed, 'bout midnig-ht," said Mr. J. 
 Ball, " when I seed the Palatine a-comin' straight for 
 the pynt, an' I couldn't see nobody on deck, but she 
 were bark-rigged. I run up to the lighthouse to call 
 two men as were sleepin' there, but before we got to 
 the pynt she struck the rocks an' went to pieces." 
 
 "Nuther time," continued Mr. Ball, "some o' our 
 folks (I expec' they'd been drinkin a bit) was comin' 
 from New London by night in a boat, when they met 
 the Palatine in the chan'l, an' she kep' a straight course, 
 an' they had to sheer off for her.'" 
 
 Here Mr. Ball closed his statement, not, I think, 
 because there was no more to tell, but because he ran 
 short of language wherewith to tell it. I submit that 
 the above narrations bear strong internal proof that 
 the man who narrated them believed them. I believe 
 them also, with certain abatements. There is a Pala- 
 tine Light, or at least there was one formerly, and I 
 have seen it as sure as J. Ball. For a faithful, cold- 
 blooded, scientific description of its appearance and 
 behavior, I refer the reader to my verses entitled "The 
 Phantom Ship." 
 
 To me (not being a seafaring man) the Light did 
 not look like a vessel, whether bark-rigged or otherwise. 
 It rather resembled a wheatsheaf, made of silvery 
 
PREFACE. Xi 
 
 aurora borealis, about half a mile high and ten miles 
 away, drifting rapidly seaward alono; the wide channel 
 between Block Island and Newport. Every few min- 
 utes it toppled forward, went completely under the 
 water-line, and then reappeared miles further east, with 
 a preliminary glow like that of the moon rising from 
 a marine horizon. Through the broad, hazy base 
 shone the tiny lanterns of fishing-smacks, and also the 
 huge, staring beacons (a red and a green) of two coast- 
 ing steamers, allying the extravagant apparition to our 
 workaday world and helping the human spectator 
 to believe himself awake and in his sober wits. 
 
 I w^atched the Light for thirty minutes or more, in 
 company with a dozen other seasiders, all fascinated 
 and puzzled. At that time Whittier's fine poem about 
 it was to me completely unknown. I had heard of the 
 Palatine, however, and promptly divined her in the 
 sight before me. My own verses were written the next 
 day at Block Island, and appeared not long afterward 
 in "Harper's Monthly." 
 
 Palestina. 
 
 I have not attempted to settle the chronology of the 
 Hebrew writings known as The Prophets. Nor have 
 I attempted to distin,s:uish, in their matter, between 
 what is history, what is denunciation or imprecation, 
 and what is prophesy. I have written as a poet, or as 
 a minor minstrel, whichever I may be. 
 
 As to measure, or stanza, I have had no theory or 
 preestablished purpose, but have simply accepted what- 
 
Xll PREFACE. 
 
 ever might be suggested to my ear by some guiding 
 phrase of the original, meaning thereby the EngHsh 
 version. If my admiration for this original does not 
 appear in my fragmentary renderings of it, then I have 
 failed to express myself distinctly. 
 
 With regard to the battle on Mt. Gilboa, it will be 
 noted that I have supposed it to be something like the 
 Homeric battles. It seems fairly certain that "the 
 lords of the Philistines" were an invading race from 
 Crete, consisting partly of "well-greaved Achaeans," 
 such as fought against Troy under Agamemnon, not 
 far from the period of the glorious death of Saul. 
 
 Another superb ending of an Israelitish chieftain is 
 the death scene of Ahab, concealing his mortal wound 
 for fear of discouraging his army, and having himself 
 held up till evening in his blood-stained chariot. 
 
UNDER THE COLORS 
 
MEDLEY AND PALESTINA 
 
 MEDLEY 
 
 UNDER THE COLORS. 
 
 The Battalion. 
 
 A thousand strong we marched to battle ; 
 
 The city roared around the host ; 
 The tambours blared their vaunting rattle ; 
 
 The bugles yelled their joyous boast. 
 
 No thought had we to die asunder, 
 Companions sworn, a brother throng; 
 
 We looked to sweep through battle's thunder 
 In mighty lines, a thousand strong. 
 
 But ah, the fever's poisoned arrow ! 
 
 The jungle's breath! the summer's glow! 
 Our broad array grew swiftly narrow, 
 
 And scanty hundreds met the foe. 
 
 O fervid longings, thoughts and fancies 
 
 That tread the city of the soul, 
 How few of all your spirit-lances 
 
 Arrive where glory's trumpets roll ! 
 
MEDLEY. 
 
 The Combat. 
 
 Without a ripple stretched the plain ; 
 
 For months we had not seen a hill; 
 
 The endless, hot savannah still 
 Fatigued the eye Avith waving cane. 
 
 A jungly forest lay before, 
 
 (The ambush of the wary foe) ; 
 In front, a stagnant sluice with low, 
 
 Reed-bordered, spongy, inky shore; 
 
 Along the right a mildewed swamp 
 Where alligators slept or crawled. 
 And pallid cypress-titans sprawled. 
 
 And mosses drooped their funeral pomp ; 
 
 While leftward crept a dull lagoon, 
 As black as Charon's woful tide, 
 With plains beyond it blistering wide 
 
 Beneath the white-hot gleam of noon. 
 
 Gray, fitful spits of musketry 
 
 Announced our skirmishers at work ; 
 We saw their darkling figures lurk 
 
 In thickets, firing from the knee. 
 
 Our cannon searched the distant wood 
 With humming, shrieking, cracking shell, 
 When suddenly the mouth of hell 
 
 Reclaimed its polyphemic food. 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 
 
 Menacing ghosts of whirling smoke 
 Arose a hundred yards ahead, 
 And deadly storms of hissing lead 
 
 From rifle-pit and canefield broke. 
 
 Then, while the bullets whistled shrill 
 
 And hidden batteries boomed and growled, 
 "Make ready! Aim!" the colonel howled; 
 
 "Battalion, forward ! Fire at will !" 
 
 Right on against the foeman's wold, 
 With eager, gladsome, deafening fire 
 And whoops that keened each moment higher, 
 
 The dark-blue, living billow rolled. 
 
 The color-guard was at my side ; 
 
 I heard the giant sergeant groan ; 
 
 I heard the bullet crush the bone ; 
 I might have touched him as he died. 
 
 I had no malice in my mind; 
 
 I only cried, "Close up! Guide right!" 
 My single purpose through the fight 
 
 Was quick advance with ranks aligned. 
 
 The foemen rose, then turned and fled ; 
 
 A loosened, grey-clad multitude 
 
 Receded, vanished 'mid the wood. 
 And left us smiling o'er the dead. 
 
 Again the march, the endless plain. 
 
 The father-river hedged in dykes ; 
 
 Gray cypresses, palmetto spikes, 
 Bayou and swamp and yellowing cane ; 
 
MEDLEY. 
 
 With rare plantations, richly spelled 
 In blooms, bananas, orange groves, 
 Where laugh the sauntering negro droves. 
 
 Reposing from the task of eld ; 
 
 And, rarer, half-deserted towns. 
 Devoid of men, where women spit 
 Their helpless hate, and sidling flit 
 
 With writhing scowl and flouting gowns; 
 
 But everywhere, 'mid toils and scorns, 
 
 A noble sense of honor won, 
 
 A nobler sense of duty done, 
 A crown achieved, though sharp with thorns. 
 
 Campaigning. 
 
 The war was weary long. 
 
 How long and wearisome it was. 
 That strife 'twixt valiant right and valiant wrong, 
 
 'Twixt anarchy and crystallizing laws ! 
 How weary, weary were the marches 
 In lands where noontide parches 
 
 The pulsing torrents of the veins ! 
 
 How many steaming plains, 
 Now ashy waste, 
 
 Now thick with honeyed canes, 
 Our footfalls slowly paced 
 
 From glaring rim to rim, 
 While fever's vipers strayed 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 7 
 
 Through aching head and hmb, 
 And gnawing hunger preyed 
 
 Till e'en that garish land grew dim ! 
 The poison-sucking moons 
 Hung over black lagoons 
 
 And poured their venom through the hazy night; 
 
 The dawns were damp with blight, 
 And all the golden-quivered noons 
 
 Shot arrows glowing white 
 That struck full many down in mortal swoons. 
 
 II 
 
 Yea, long and fearful was the strife. 
 
 How many mighty champions, 
 How many evil Titans, bounded 
 
 From caves of Chaos and Affright 
 To spend their savage life 
 
 In wrestling with the shining ones 
 
 Who guard the fortress of the right ! 
 How many cruel clarions sounded 
 
 More hortative and loud 
 
 Than Roland's trumpet when he bowed 
 To death in Roncesvale! 
 I heard all notes that wail 
 Through battle's vibrant scale. 
 
 I heard the dying when they sighed 
 Like wearied children pitiful and meek ; 
 
 I heard the wounded when they cried 
 Their wild, astonished shriek, 
 
 The cry of one who feels his pulses fail 
 And all his strength turn weak 
 
MEDLEY. 
 
 Because beneath him seems to sHde 
 And open swiftly wide 
 A black and bottomless abyss. 
 
 Ill 
 
 I heard the bullet's hiss, 
 
 Incessant, sharp and fell, 
 The keenest, deadliest note 
 That bursts from battle's throat ; 
 
 The piercing screech and jarring whirr 
 
 Of grape and canister ; 
 And flying from afar, the shell 
 With changeful, throbbing, husky yell, 
 
 A demon tiger, leaping miles 
 To spread his iron claws 
 
 And tear the bleeding files ; 
 While oft arose the charging cry 
 
 Of men who battled for a glorious cause 
 And died when it was beautiful to die. 
 
 IV 
 
 In long pursuits. 
 
 When every blistered footstep seemed to bleed, 
 When reeling ranks outwore the very brutes 
 
 And every furlong showed its dying steed, 
 How strange, with aching eyes to scan 
 
 The flying dust of cavalry, 
 (The horsemen of our van) 
 That up and down the roadways ran 
 
 Untiringly as billows of the sea. 
 Retreating and attacking, coming, going. 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 
 
 As wayward as a firefly's glowing, 
 
 While here and there 
 
 A sabre's glare 
 
 Revealed that Death was busy there. 
 Strange, too, again, 
 Athwart some scintillating plain. 
 
 To see advance through tremulous rays 
 
 The solemn, columned haze 
 Of mighty marchings, visible afar, 
 The dim afreets of war, 
 
 The gliding pillar-clouds of Death's simoom, 
 
 The tempest-demons, charged with doom, 
 That over war's Sahara swarm, 
 
 ^lenacing, monstrous, climbing skies 
 And hasting to descend in* storm 
 
 Of crashing ranks and booming batteries. 
 
 V 
 
 In middle night. 
 
 In dewy silence, ocean-deep, 
 The hundred-pounder on the bastioned height 
 
 Awakened from its ponderous sleep 
 And poured with all its iron might 
 
 A lion-like, a grandly solemn roar 
 That boomed and shuddered on 
 From horizon to horizon 
 
 Until the lofty frame 
 
 Of darkness shook from roof to floor. 
 Then rose the bomb a-sky, 
 
 A lurid, crimson, bloody fiend of flame 
 That mounted swiftly while that awful cry 
 
10 MEDLEY. 
 
 Along the rocking welkin fled. 
 It clomb, it soared, it curved its flight, 
 
 It paused one fearful moment overhead, 
 A meteor as red as hell ; 
 Then burst in ruins deadly white, 
 In ghastly shatterings of livid light, 
 
 Magnificent, sublime and fell ; 
 
 While, clanging like a Pandemonic bell. 
 The great explosion shuddered on 
 From horizon to horizon ; 
 
 And once again the monstrous dome of night 
 Reeled outward from the roar 
 And shook from awful peak to boundless floor. 
 
 Yea, fearful were the sights and sounds 
 That swept the war's wide bounds. 
 
 It seemed at times as though we trod 
 Another and most fearful world. 
 
 Unknown perchance to God, 
 Or else long since to ruin hurled. 
 
 Yet never did our spirit shrink ; 
 We marched and fought with steady heart ; 
 
 We marched to Hades' brink 
 Without a coward start. 
 
 Our cause was good, 
 
 Befitting manhood's noblest mood ; 
 And it was noble, too, to brave 
 The great unknown beyond the grave. 
 
 All this was godlike, worthy all 
 That we had power to give, 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. II 
 
 Though in the giving we should fall 
 Sore wounded ; yea, should cease to live. 
 
 Forward. 
 
 A soldier laid him down to die : 
 
 His wound was deep, his life a-f ailing: 
 
 He called a comrade charging by : 
 The shells were flying, balls a-hailing. 
 
 *'0 brother, take this purse of gold :" 
 
 The steeds were rushing, cannon leaping: 
 
 "And bear it to my mother old :" 
 
 His voice was shaken here with weeping. 
 
 "O brother," said the comrade then : 
 
 The turf was red with blood a-streaming: 
 
 "Your errand fits but wounded men : 
 The bayonets came on a-gleaming. 
 
 *T came to fight, and not to fly : 
 
 I shall not live to see your mother : 
 So pray that I may bravely die. 
 
 And trust your treasure to another." 
 
 The Storming Column. 
 
 Do you remember the storming column 
 That Banks sent up one night of June? 
 
 Do you recall the grandly solemn 
 Advance withouten star or moon ? 
 
 The tangled wood and the boding cry 
 
 Of owls that jeered us on to die? 
 
1 2 MEDLEY. 
 
 Afar in stifling night we heard 
 The picket rattle rise and fall ; 
 
 Now and then the leaves were stirred 
 Above our heads by a random ball ; 
 
 There were no clamored orders then, 
 
 The orders came from whispering men. 
 
 Our road by dark battalions ran, 
 
 By sections harnessed, man and steed ; 
 
 We heard them croak, "There goes the van' 
 And then we knew that we should lead 
 
 The battle; but our hearts would roam, 
 
 And many thought, "Adieu to home." 
 
 The colonel groped before the files 
 Of bayonets bare and sabres drawn ; 
 
 We roamed and stumbled dusky miles, 
 And night had paled to filmy dawn 
 
 When yellow earthworks loomed ahead 
 
 And howling battle called our dead. 
 
 Then officer and soldier yelled. 
 
 And wildly charged the old brigade ; 
 
 The hoarse hurrahs one moment quelled 
 The rifle crash and cannonade ; 
 
 I think the very caves of death 
 
 Reechoed that heroic breath. 
 
 For the dying shouted as they died. 
 Cheering their panting comrades on ; 
 
 And though the clanging bronze replied, 
 They heard it not, for they were gone ; 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 1 3 
 
 And thus I think their final call 
 Entered the gates of Odin's hall. 
 
 We reached the trench ; our foremost dead 
 Dotted the smoking mounds with blue ; 
 
 The bastions flushed with clotting red, 
 And still the hissing bullets flew ; 
 
 They hailed along the gullied banks 
 
 And thinned the wearied, broken ranks. 
 
 In vain supporting cannon roared, 
 
 In vain renewed battalions pressed; 
 The Southern flag triumphant soared, 
 
 We could not smoor the flaming crest ; 
 We could not conquer — could but die. 
 Yet all the war was a victory. 
 
 The Bloody Grove. 
 
 The wood was strewn with gray and blue. 
 
 The smoke was coiled and looping. 
 When onward came the foe anew 
 
 With shrieking and with whooping. 
 
 The cannon tore the leafy aisles. 
 
 The beeches flew asunder 
 And tottered through the scanty files 
 
 In plunging, crackling thunder. 
 
 We knelt beside the fallen trees. 
 
 Beside our fallen brothers, — 
 We thought of others on their knees. 
 
 Of darlings and of mothers. 
 
14 MEDLEY. , 
 
 We glanced aloft and bade farewell 
 • To earth, its joy and beauty; 
 Then made our every bullet tell 
 For honor and for duty. 
 
 The wood was strewn with dying men, 
 The turf was red and reeking. 
 
 When onward came the foe agen 
 With whooping and with shrieking. 
 
 Lost and Won. 
 I 
 The battle sprang through dingy dawn, 
 A stealthy battle shod with lawn. 
 It scared the morning with its leap, 
 A tiger battle slaying sleep. 
 One aster pierced the reddening east 
 And lit the monster to his feast. 
 From lofty heights that faced our camp 
 He crept on paws of velvet wiles 
 Down torrent gulches green and damp. 
 Up wooded slopes and gray defiles, 
 Till, stealing round our leftward wing. 
 He crouched and made his fearful spring. 
 
 II 
 My foot was on the stirrup plate. 
 My hand was on the saddle bow ; 
 I leaped astride and spurred agate 
 Through tangled paths to spy the foe. 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 1 5 
 
 But vainly might I lean and gaze ; 
 The lanskip showed no living shape. 
 I saw but woodlands draped in haze ; 
 One foreland groping like a cape 
 Through pallid gulfs ; beyond, a pall 
 Of tiding mists ; and that was all. 
 But still afar I heard the yell 
 Of men who conquered, men who fell. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Then presently a phantom grove 
 
 Disparted wide its filmy aisles ; 
 
 And through them, half discovered, drove 
 
 A drifting swarm of broken files, 
 
 Accoutred as they sprang from sleep ; 
 
 Half vestured ; herding close, like sheep 
 
 In terror ; glancing back amazed, 
 
 And croaking low, as creatures dazed 
 
 By some incredible mischance, 
 
 A thrust of magic's fated lance. 
 
 In vain were rally calls. They stared 
 
 Unanswering, and ever fared 
 
 To rearward, stolidly as hosts 
 
 Of brutes, and helplessly as ghosts. 
 
 So disappeared our shattered van, 
 And so the daylong fight began. 
 While downward drave that lurid star 
 (Red Thor menacing from his car), 
 And slowly clomb in rosy lawn 
 The unavailing peace of dawn. 
 
1 6 MEDLEY. 
 
 IV 
 
 Now silence fell — a moment's grace — 
 An anxious, fearful breathing space — 
 Like that between two evil dreams, 
 Two combing waves, two levin gleams, — 
 The while we swiftly altered form. 
 Battalions wheeling, swarm by swarm. 
 The ranks a-shake and intertwined. 
 The very chieftains groping blind 
 To meet the coming of a foe 
 Whose striking-place we could not know,- 
 A panther-footed foe whose claws 
 Crept daintily through morning's gauze. 
 
 Then battle's second billow broke, 
 With tongues of fire and spouting smoke. 
 With whirring grape and howling shell, 
 With yelping, piercing yell on yell. 
 The cannon-vapor folded high. 
 The spiteful bullet speeded by, 
 While back we drifted, ever back, 
 A bleeding, rifted, reeling wrack. 
 The field with mangled men bestrown, 
 With fallen steeds, guns overthrown. 
 And foul with sprinklings, trails and pools 
 Of blood, as 'twere a land of ghouls. 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 1 7 
 
 VI 
 
 Till noon the hurrying foe prevailed, 
 Nor any stroke of ours availed. 
 But then ! O what a change there was ! 
 He came ! the Roland of our cause ! 
 He came ! we needed but his glance 
 To halt, to rally, and advance, 
 To strike as 'twere a dying blow, 
 And see the day all laureled go. 
 
 O monstrous joy, akin to madness! 
 O cruel joy, the victor's gladness ! 
 His dearest comrade falls anear; 
 He rushes on without a tear. 
 He leaps along the roaring field 
 And laughs to see the foemen yield. 
 He faces death's demoniac jaws 
 And rends the air with gay hurrahs. 
 No other joy that earth may give. 
 No other moment man may live. 
 Outshines the radiant moment whiles 
 Red victory crowns the weary files. 
 
 The Battle Flag. 
 
 I beckon onward charging men, 
 I head the bleeding rally, 
 
 I flaunt along the rattling glen, 
 Along the booming valley. 
 
 I waver through the bloody sedge 
 That rims the black morasses ; 
 
1 8 MEDLEY. 
 
 I climb the mountain's smoky ledge 
 And rive the columned masses. 
 
 I span the river's icy flight, 
 I flout the squadroned horses, 
 
 I scale the rampart's steely height 
 And throb above the corses. 
 
 A dozen men have borne my staff. 
 And, clutching it, have perished ; 
 
 But still along the war I laugh. 
 And still my rags are cherished. 
 
 I lead my children through the flame. 
 All marching in their places ; 
 
 I cheer my darlings on to fame 
 And kiss their dying faces. 
 
 I muster scarce a himdred braves 
 Beneath my crimsoned glory. 
 
 O heroes, forward to your graves, 
 And plant my pike in story! 
 
 The Boy Soldier. 
 
 O my sunny 
 Boy, my beauty. 
 
 Mad to strike a blow ! 
 Not for money. 
 
 Not for duty 
 
 Would I let thee go. 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. I9 
 
 Spare the mother, 
 
 Growing hoary, 
 Not for long below; 
 
 Let another 
 Win the glory, 
 
 Rushing on the foe. 
 
 Ah, the ruddy 
 
 Soldier laddie, 
 Waking all aglow ! 
 
 What a bloody 
 Slumber had he 
 
 Ere the sun was low ! 
 
 Half a city, 
 
 Treading slowly, 
 Joined the funeral show. 
 
 Grant me pity. 
 Holy, holy 
 
 Comforter of woe! 
 
 After the War. 
 
 How few remember now the days, 
 The peddling days, before the war. 
 
 When life was like a one-horse chaise 
 And ''thirty cents" a morning star. 
 
 When Bunker Hill "descended down"* 
 
 If cotton planters deig^ned to frown ! 
 
 "Trumbull's McFingal. 
 
20 MEDLEY. 
 
 We washed them clean, those scrolls of shame, 
 In seas of blood. We crossed them off 
 
 With powder stain and scorch of flame. 
 The kings no longer grin and scoff 
 
 At Freedom throned on hosts of slaves. 
 
 We balanced that with hosts of graves. 
 
 comrades, render thanks to God 
 For Bull Run's day of panic terrors. 
 
 That overthrow was Yahveh's rod 
 
 To scourge afar the groveling errors 
 That trade is manhood's loftiest pride, 
 And man's most precious part, his hide. 
 
 Our fight was nobler for disaster, 
 No easy stroke were half so grand. 
 
 The nation's genius rose the vaster 
 Because of trial. Our spacious land 
 
 Gave narrow scope for such events 
 
 As trode its vast circumference. 
 
 Glorious braves those rebels were, 
 
 As gallant ranks as ever dashed 
 Up smoking steeps with bayonets bare, 
 
 While volleys whizzed and cannon crashed 
 Athwart the swarms of grey-clad men, — 
 The memory makes me drop the pen. 
 
 1 think it might be fine to hear 
 
 Their whoop again, — their panther yell : 
 No trained hurrah, no classic cheer ; 
 But savage yelps of wold and fell ; 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 21 
 
 A cry of wolves in hunting bout ; 
 And yet a stirring, martial shout. 
 
 At Gettysburg how swift they came, 
 
 Right-shoulder-shift, quick-step, guide right, 
 
 Defying all our roar and flame 
 
 A\'ith yell on yell as they clomb the height, 
 
 The fighting blood of a hero race 
 
 Ablaze in every swarthy face ! 
 
 The future of a country reeled 
 
 When Longstreet crowned the deadly hill ; 
 One more brigade had gained the field. 
 
 Perchance for centuries of ill ; 
 And never yet were statues run ■ 
 
 For worthier men than those vv^ho won. 
 
 The Echo Drummer. 
 
 The mellow drum of the echoes 
 Is beating beneath the crag. 
 
 And doubtless the elfin warriors 
 Are gathered round their flag. 
 
 I fancy I see them rally, 
 I fancy I see them form : — 
 
 Hurrah ! 'tis the oldtime banner ; 
 Once more, battalion, we storm. 
 
 Smoke eddies from ledge and thicket 
 Where skirmishers crawl and kneel 
 
 From forest and winding valley, 
 Where flanking regiments wheel. 
 
22 MEDLEY. 
 
 Along the base of the mountain 
 It streams like a line of spray ; 
 
 Above, the battery-tempest 
 
 Drives billows of curling gray. 
 
 I hear the yell of the colonel, 
 The captain's hurrying call, 
 
 The tramp of the panting soldiers, 
 The ramrod's hammering fall; 
 
 The clang of the brass howitzer. 
 The iron gun's muffled growl. 
 
 The thrum of the whirling splinter, 
 The grapeshot's tigerish howl; 
 
 The stunning crash of the volleys. 
 The longdrawn fire of the files, 
 
 The bullet's incessant whistle — 
 Exultings of death for miles. 
 
 And louder than all, and grimmer, 
 The jubilant charging yell, 
 
 The scream of the old battalion 
 As it storms through battle's hell. 
 
 Again the grasses are reddened 
 With earth's most precious of dies 
 
 The blood of heroes is flowing — 
 And tears are blinding my eyes. 
 
 I waken to hear but only 
 
 The summer's warble and hum, 
 
 And, stamping in mimic warfare. 
 An infant beating a drum. 
 
under the colors. 23 
 
 Pickett's Charge. 
 
 The war had robbed the cradle, 
 
 The war had robbed the grave, 
 And boys with ringlets golden 
 
 Bore bayonet and glaive, 
 And grandsires flung their olden 
 
 Thin hair to battle's wave 
 When Pickett charged the folden 
 
 Pale mists where slaughters rave. 
 
 He trode the smitten valley. 
 
 The headland's hissing glade, 
 Right through the bullet tempest, 
 
 Right through the cannonade. 
 Till rank tore rank asunder 
 
 With bayonet and blade, 
 Till earth arose in wonder 
 
 To see the death he made. 
 
 Six thousand were his heroes, 
 
 Three thousand those who bled ; 
 They marched without a shiver 
 
 To join the knightly dead; 
 They crossed the ghostly river 
 
 With swift and steady tread ; 
 And fame will shine forever 
 
 Around that column's head. 
 
 The war had robl^ed the cradle, 
 
 The war had robbed the tomb, 
 And men whose hair was hoary 
 
 And youngsters in their bloom 
 
24 MEDLEY. 
 
 Went shouting through the glory 
 That folds where cannon boom, 
 
 When Pickett stormed the gory 
 Sublimities of doom. 
 
 Raven Van Ross. 
 
 They say that the Vandals will come. 
 
 I would not believe it till now ; 
 But this horrible throbbing and hum 
 
 Is the tramp of their march drawing near 
 And the roll of their barbarous drum. 
 
 So let me remember my vow, 
 And hasten forth, robed for my bier, 
 To strike at the joy of their cheer, 
 
 To strike and leave some one dumb. 
 
 My lineage is gentle and old. 
 
 And my heart is virginal pure; 
 My hair is a girl's flossy gold 
 
 And my hand is of satiny gloss; 
 But no heart can more proudly endure 
 
 The anguish of honor's red cross ; 
 No hand with the pistol is truer. 
 And I'll shoot the first Yankee as sure 
 
 As my name is Raven Van Ross. 
 
 She speeded forth into the night 
 And spied the dark column anigh; 
 
 She stood there in delicate white, 
 A maiden too lovely to die ; 
 
UNDER THE COLORS. 2$ 
 
 Too precious for aught but the sight 
 Of love, and the kiss of his mouth, 
 
 And the clasp of his yearning delight; 
 
 But maddened by echoes of fight 
 
 And the passionate blood of the South. 
 
 She shot. But no death-cry replied. 
 
 The column sent backward no ball. 
 It trampled on, massive and wide. 
 
 From curbstone to curbstone across. 
 Dumb, solemn and black as a pall ; 
 
 Unknowing that close by its side, 
 \A'ithdrawn from life's hyssop and gall, 
 Heart-broken, death-stricken, lay all 
 
 That remained of Raven Van Ross.* 
 
 *An incident (somewhat disguised) of Sherman's entry into 
 Columbia, South Carolina. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND 
 REVERIES 
 
/ 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 
 
 The Phantom Ship. 
 
 We stood on the haunted island, 
 We stood by the haunted bay; 
 
 The stars were all over the skyland, 
 But the moon had loitered away. 
 
 The lights of fisher-boats glimmered, 
 The beacon was steady and red, 
 
 The harbor icily shimmered 
 
 Like the bodeful eye of the dead. 
 
 Then came the terror of ocean, 
 
 The fiend of the island came, 
 A vessel with ghostlike motion, 
 
 A bark with canvass of flame. 
 
 It shone with vaporous brightness, 
 
 A glamour of tremulous rays; 
 It was not fire, but the whiteness 
 
 Of a ghost of a perished blaze. 
 
 We watched it with wondering vision, 
 We watched it doubting and dumb; 
 
 We had heard of the thing with derision, 
 But we surely beheld it come. 
 
 We saw it glide o'er the water, 
 A phantom of pallid fire ; 
 
30 MEDLEY. 
 
 We saw it tumble and totter 
 To ruin, and then flash higher. 
 
 Again and again to leeward, 
 Its ghastly rigging fell o'er; 
 
 At last, far away to seaward, 
 It foundered and rose no more. 
 
 We had watched it with straining vision, 
 We had watched it with eye and glass ; 
 
 But gone were doubt and derision, 
 For surely we saw it pass. 
 
 Through many a winter and summer. 
 As the sons of the island know, 
 
 The gleam of this vampyre comer 
 Has prophesied storm and woe : 
 
 This ghost of a great three-master 
 That went in the days of yore 
 
 To fell and fiery disaster 
 
 Right off the Block Island shore. 
 
 The • City of Souls. 
 
 I traverse the humdrum station, 
 I enter the well-known street ; 
 
 But a bedlamite incantation 
 Transfigures the crowds I meet. 
 
 Their bodily shapes have vanished 
 To pallid planets of gholes ; 
 
 And the city of earth, astonished, 
 Beholds a people of souls. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 3 1 
 
 Nor neighbor I see, nor brother, 
 
 Nor lover nor foe I ken : 
 And they know not one the other, 
 
 These phantom women and men. 
 
 For many once quaint and homely 
 Outglitter the saints themselves, 
 
 And many once tall and comely 
 Are dwarfish and weird as elves. 
 
 And many who chided revel 
 
 Discover the lurking beast; 
 And the leer of the doubting devil 
 
 Supplants the smile of the priest. 
 
 The worshipped and trusted maiden, 
 The friend of my bosom, come; 
 
 But the darling would ruin Aidenn, 
 The friend is a scowling gnome. 
 
 I scout them in fierce derision. 
 
 Responses of fiends blaspheme; 
 Then in anger I rend the vision 
 
 And trust in men as they seem. 
 
 The Owl. 
 
 All day he sits in his vitreous dome 
 On the mantel stand of the hotel hall, 
 
 And stares at naught like a scornful gnome, 
 Regardless of me, and thee, and all. 
 
 Though many pass him with gleesome feet. 
 
 And many whose hearts in agony beat. 
 
32 MEDLEY. 
 
 Summoning bells on the under floor, 
 Hurrying steps on the. creaking stair, 
 
 Sobbing farewells and a mellow roar 
 Of music and mirth in the evening air, 
 
 Burial trains from the floors above, 
 
 Shouts of anger and whispers of love, 
 
 Succeed and reply like the fateful mell 
 
 Of comings and goings and joys and woes 
 
 That rave through Life's titanic hotel 
 To the far Beyond no traveler knows. 
 
 Arriving unknown — departed, forgot ; — 
 
 One leaving a name — another, a blot. 
 
 Yet nothing seemeth the owl to care, 
 A demon cruelly deaf and blind 
 
 To every passionate hope and despair 
 And gladness and grief of humankind, 
 
 Who never changes his stony gaze 
 
 While daylight glows or the gasbeaks blaze. 
 
 A whitefaced clock in a varnished case, 
 (A corpse a-stare through a coffin slide) 
 
 Tolls the knell of the minutes that chase 
 Each other to death over eventide. 
 
 One ! two ! three ! cries the sexton clock, 
 
 And the owl awakes at the magian shock. 
 
 He flutters down from his mossy bough ; 
 
 His eyes are awful with weird surmise ; 
 He cleaves the crystal, I know not how. 
 
 And rambles forth on a strange emprise, 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 33 
 
 Silently treading the carpeted floors 
 Where sentinel boots guard bedroom doors. 
 
 From every keyhole a wraith appears 
 And tells the soul of the sleeper within, 
 
 His secretest longings and plots and fears, 
 His holiest worth and foulest sin. 
 
 The grim fowl barkens with eyes of flame. 
 
 No marvel ! Who would not barken the same? 
 
 At morn he returns, a bewildered bird. 
 
 And sits all day in staring amaze. 
 Thinking unwinking of what he has heard 
 
 Of the spirit world and its hidden ways, 
 Musing entranced till the western sun 
 Leaves him more puzzled than when he begun. 
 
 O, the human heart ! O, the human soul ! 
 
 Enigma of being ! conundrum of time ! 
 Go guess me my riddle ! The centuries toll 
 
 Over guesser and guess their contemptuous chime. 
 I weary of bowing to college and cowl. 
 The oracles lie. I shall wait for the owl. 
 
 The Tableau Vivant. 
 
 She came in the diademed guise 
 Of Egypt's bewildering queen ; 
 
 Apparel of aureate dyes 
 
 Lent orient pomp to her mien ; 
 
 The stars in the heavens of her eyes 
 Cast magian glamor and sheen. 
 
34 MEDLEY. 
 
 The smile of astonishment told 
 
 How plainly our homage was shown; 
 
 The Phidian face glimmered cold, 
 The face of a goddess in stone ; 
 
 More regal with beauty than gold, 
 She needed no sceptre nor throne. 
 
 One moment I lived in the past. 
 Beside her pavilion I bowed. 
 
 Or ran to the templed Nile fast 
 
 To cheer where her galleon ploughed. 
 
 And prayed for the vision to last, 
 
 On my knees in a worshipping crowd. 
 
 And, maddened, I shouted that well 
 Might Roman with African strive 
 
 And stumble ensanguined to hell, 
 Yet cease not to grapple and rive 
 
 For a queen whose face was a spell, 
 For the fairest of women alive. 
 
 Romances. 
 
 I would I were mighty, victorious, 
 
 A monarch of steel and of gold ; 
 I would I were one of the glorious 
 
 Divinities hallowed of old, 
 A god of Olympian fashion 
 
 Who mingled with women and men, 
 A deity human in passion, 
 
 Transhuman in strength and in ken. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 35 
 
 For then I could render the pleasure 
 
 I win from the sight of your face ; 
 For then I could utter my treasure 
 
 Of homage and thanks for your grace ; 
 I could dower, illumine and gladden, 
 
 Could rescue from peril and tears. 
 And my speech could vibrate and madden 
 
 With eloquence worthy your ears. 
 
 You meet me ; your greeting is kindly ; 
 
 One minute I marvel and gaze, 
 Idolatrous, worshipping blindly. 
 
 Yet mindful of decorous ways. 
 You pass ; and the glory is ended, 
 
 Though lustre and taper may glow; 
 The goddess who made the night splendid 
 
 Has vanished ; and darkly I go. 
 
 You know not how quickly you mounted 
 
 The throne in the depths of my eyes ; 
 You care not how meekly I counted 
 
 Those moments for pearls of the skies ; 
 Or, knowing it, all is forgotten 
 
 The instant I fade from your sight, 
 Consigned to the visions begotten 
 
 Of chaos and slumber and night. 
 
 But I, I remember your glances. 
 
 Your chariest gesture and word. 
 And out of them fashion romances 
 
 Man never vet uttered nor heard, 
 
36 MEDLEY. 
 
 Romances too brilliant for mortals, 
 
 Too glad for a planet of dole, 
 Romances that open the portals 
 
 Of Eden and welcome my soul. 
 
 Hail, Augusta! 
 
 Undeserving to woo her, to win her, 
 
 I creep far below her and gaze 
 As up-gazes a vision-rapt sinner 
 
 To seraphim shining through haze. 
 Shall I grovel unworthy forever? 
 
 Ah no ! I will fight for my heart. 
 Let me grapple some dizzy endeavor 
 
 And mount where she glitters apart. 
 
 Shall I seek the sun-fleeces of Jason 
 
 And scatter their gold at her feet? 
 To Atlantis, to Indica hasten 
 
 And carve the unknown for her seat ? 
 Shall I foam to the Fortunate Islands, 
 
 Or-claim Eden's blooms for us two? 
 O illusions of earthlands and skylands. 
 
 Inspire me to will and to do ! 
 
 What Titans survive, what undying 
 
 Medusas, to challenge to fame? 
 What habergeoned destinies crying 
 
 Hortations to battle and flame ? 
 What achievement, what knighthood remaineth 
 
 To one who is panting for worth ? 
 Love repineth and wildly complaineth 
 
 That perils have vanished from earth. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 37 
 
 I would drape her in purple befitting, 
 
 Enthrone her and give her a crown, 
 In the world-coliseum high-sitting, 
 
 To regally smile and look down; 
 Her illumining arms marble-folded, 
 
 A thousand keen stars in her eyes. 
 And the face that a demigod moulded 
 
 Uplifted for human surprise; 
 
 Around her the terror and glory, 
 
 The laurels and blood of the scene ; 
 Eager visages, story on story, 
 
 All turning to her as their queen ; 
 While, allotted to perish before her, 
 
 Unchanging in color and breath, 
 I clamor, ''All hail ! Thy adorer 
 
 Salutes thee, and hastens to death." 
 
 The Archer's Plea. 
 
 You wouldn't shoot with me, Edith, 
 
 When the heavens were argent and blue 
 
 And now that the showers are falling, 
 Edith Anerly, what will you do? 
 
 To linger at breakfast and dinner. 
 
 To trifle a novelette through, 
 To walk in the porches with Leila, 
 
 Will that be sufficient for you? 
 
38 MEDLEY. 
 
 The evening will come with its music 
 And feet dropping gently as dew; 
 
 Perhaps with the murmurs and throbbings 
 Of a Douglas tender and true. 
 
 I hope it will all be delightful, 
 I trust there'll be nothing to rue, 
 
 Although I would gladly have had you 
 One hour with the target and yew. 
 
 The arrows that glint through the matches 
 Of life, do they all whistle true? 
 
 Are they missioned to centre the yellow, 
 Or even to edge on the blue ? 
 
 I trust that the shafts of your drawing 
 Will fly as Maid Marian's flew 
 
 So truly and duly and nobly 
 
 You may not regret that you drew. 
 
 But I shall depart and not see it, 
 
 Leave here and leave earth before you ; 
 
 Shall go unregretted, forgotten. 
 And apart as the Wandering Jew. 
 
 So remember, before Ihave vanished, 
 
 To do what alone you may do, 
 And give me one hour of Diana, 
 
 Lithe maid, lovely maid, of the yew. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 39 
 
 The Skater. 
 
 Along the frozen lake she comes 
 In linking crescents light and fleet; 
 
 The ice-embowered undine hums 
 A welcome to her fairy feet, 
 
 I see the jaunty hat, the plume, 
 
 Flit bird-like in the frosty gale, 
 The cheeks alight with burning bloom, 
 
 The dark eyes beaming through the veil. 
 
 The eager breath parts coral lips. 
 The marble neck parts tossing curls, 
 
 The witching vesture sways and dips 
 As round she wheels in rapid whorls. 
 
 Men pause and smile to see her go ; 
 
 They gaze, they smile in pleased surprise ; 
 They ask her name ; they long to show 
 
 Some silent friendship in their eyes. 
 
 She glances not ; she passes on ; 
 
 Her steely footfall quicker rings; 
 She guesses not the benison 
 
 That follows her on noiseless wings. 
 
 Smooth be her ways, secure her tread 
 
 Along the devious lines of life. 
 From grace to grace successive led, 
 
 A noble maiden, nobler wife! 
 
 So much I wish her while she strays 
 In sylphic dance from shore to shore. 
 
 Already fearful lest my gaze 
 
 May chance upon her nevermore. 
 
40 MEDLEY. 
 
 The Solo. 
 
 I gaze on the painted windows, 
 The columns ashy and cold, 
 
 The frescoed saints in the arches, 
 The ceiling of azure and gold. 
 
 The organ thunders and shudders 
 Like a monster dying in pain ; 
 
 The chorus has wailed its parting. 
 Lamenting, repenting in vain. 
 
 Then out of the gloom arises 
 
 An angel whose wings are furled 
 
 You lift your voice in the solo, 
 And I fly from a woful world. 
 
 I traverse ethereal oceans ; 
 
 Above me are marvellous skies ; 
 I win the islands of Glory 
 
 And the beaches of Paradise. 
 
 You guide me, I care not whither 
 So long as I hear you sing ; 
 
 Grief dies and toil is forgotten ; 
 Ah, life is a heavenly thing. 
 
 Then silence falls like a terror 
 That blanches the face of mirth ; 
 
 The solo ends, and I waken 
 To toil and sorrow and earth. 
 
recollections and reveries. 4i 
 
 The Haunted Lady. 
 
 You know not, lady, how often 
 
 A stranger follows your trace. 
 Or lies in wait for your coming 
 
 To win a sight of your face. 
 
 He wanders mute as a phantom 
 
 That haunts the populous street. 
 Yet may not murmur its burden 
 
 To those it chances to meet. 
 
 He longs, like the ghost, to utter 
 
 A sigh, a yearning, a word ; 
 But spells forbid, and the secret 
 
 Is spoken in heart, unheard. 
 
 The message is naught but kindness, 
 
 A prayer that your life may be 
 As fair and pure as the beauty 
 
 He walks so often to see. 
 
 The Coming Goodbye. 
 
 The summer will come, with its music 
 Of birds, and its darting of plumes ; 
 
 The summer will come with its sunshine, 
 And odors, and glory of blooms. 
 
 The wizard, the magical summer, 
 Will dizen the town with his smile, 
 
 And make it a city well worthy 
 To sparkle in Eden a while; 
 
42 MEDLEY. 
 
 Will deck it with velvet of verdure, 
 With jewels of leaflet and flower, 
 
 With glamor of dawn and of sunset. 
 With shimmering glamor of shower. 
 
 But you will depart from the Eden 
 The moment its grace is complete ; 
 
 Your eyes will be lost from the window, 
 Your smile will abandon the street. 
 
 The beaches will hail you ; the ocean 
 Will anthem its welcome to you; 
 
 To you the glad billows will flutter 
 Their pennons of argent and blue ; 
 
 While I, in the sun-beaten city, 
 
 Shall watch for your passing in vain. 
 
 And think of your lighthearted greetings, 
 And wish it were winter again. 
 
 Recollection. 
 
 I well remember the moment 
 When first I beheld your face : 
 
 A moment: it passed like lightning: 
 But, like it, it left a trace. 
 
 I sat in the hall of music. 
 
 And hundreds beside were there, 
 All vanished now in the bygone, 
 
 All phantoms faded in air. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 43 
 
 One instant I saw the glances 
 
 Of blue, the braidings of gold; 
 Then swiftly that ghostly people 
 
 Around you, hiding you, rolled. 
 
 The others are all forgotten. 
 
 The music has left no tone, 
 I cannot recall the pageant, 
 
 I remember your face alone. 
 
 Separation. 
 
 Never to see her nor hear her, 
 
 To speak her name aloud never ; 
 Yet hold her always the dearer, 
 
 Yet love her forever. 
 
 To sleep and dream I am near her, 
 To curse the daybeams that sever ; 
 
 To hold her dearer and dearer, 
 To love her forever. 
 
 To see from day to day clearer 
 
 She blights both hope and endeavor ; 
 
 Yet absolve her, bless her, revere her. 
 Yet love her forever. 
 
 Never to see her nor hear her, 
 To speak her name aloud never; 
 
 To hold her always the dearer, 
 To love her forever.* 
 
 * Imitated from the French of Snlly-Prudhomme. 
 
44 MEDLEY. 
 
 Cherished Illusions. 
 
 Again the wonder-story is told. 
 
 Is she who hstens woman or vision? 
 I know the braidings of sunrise gold, 
 
 The tranquil gaze of azure elysian — 
 Such gold and azure as though the skies 
 Had rained their glory in braids and eyes. 
 
 Have all the cruel, malignant years 
 
 Been merely slumber, nightmare, illusion? 
 
 Has it only seemed that love was tears? 
 That hope was mockery, life confusion? 
 
 That those who purposed to walk together 
 
 Have walked apart through misery's weather? 
 
 Is it true that I am all I was 
 
 In days when joy partook of madness? 
 That I have broken destiny's laws 
 
 And torn from death a vanished gladness ? 
 Yea, all the happiness long as life 
 I dreamed to win in dreaming her wife ? 
 
 O let me believe the false to-day ! 
 
 No boding glance ! no cruel negation ! 
 Believe with me, Blondine, and say. 
 
 The morrow brings no separation. 
 Endow me richly, O love ! my treasure. 
 With all that dreams can coin of pleasure. 
 
 ;•: ^ >;< ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 O fair illusions of long ago! 
 / O why return in guise of a maiden ? 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 45 
 
 Too many the broken hopes I know 
 
 Since Yahveh drave me forth from Aidenn; 
 Too many phantoms and winning guiles 
 Follow and mock with remembered smiles. 
 
 Sunset on Lebanon. 
 
 Robed in vermilion the sun sinks behind Cypriot moun- 
 tains ; 
 Daintily many-hued eve mantles with rainbows 
 Libanus ; 
 Darkles already Beyroot between its gardens and 
 harbor ; 
 Beyond, the Mediterranean stretches in quest of 
 Atlantis. 
 Far is the sea, yet anigh ; furlongs below me the surges 
 Hammer the beaches with foam; yet, faintly rises 
 their clamor, 
 Softened to murmurings low — a scarcely audible 
 sighing. 
 Various glitters the sea — calms intermixed with 
 whitecaps ; 
 Many the breezes that cross it — orient, northern and 
 southern ; 
 Barks with favoring gales, steering for opposite 
 havens, 
 Driven by hectoring gods, or drawn by whimsical 
 tritons. 
 Broad and benign is the sea, yet few are the keels 
 that track it ; 
 Less than a dozen I mark, though Sidon is near and 
 Tyrus. 
 
4-6 MEDLEY. 
 
 But argosies manned by ghosts swiftly arrive, 
 uncountable, 
 Opulent navies of old flowing in endless procession; 
 Tyrian, Persian, Hellene, Roman and Arab and 
 Tartar ; 
 Galleys of crossletted knights, Godfrey and leonine 
 Richard ; 
 Frigates of gunpowder times reeling through vapor 
 of battle. 
 Thus for a little I gaze, wrapped in a dream of the 
 bygone. 
 Careless that glorious-eyed Lulu and Miriam, 
 near me. 
 Prattle their Syrian views concerning supper and 
 breakfast. 
 
 The Lottery Valentine. 
 
 By chance allotted as the mate 
 Of one you neither love nor know. 
 Who brings you neither joy nor woe. 
 
 What mockery is this of fate! 
 
 We play like children at a game, 
 We mime the deepest game of life, 
 We prattle words like love and wife 
 
 Whose fire should set the soul aflame. 
 
 No purpose hides beneath our vows, 
 
 No heartbeat storms athwart our mirth; 
 We hold our words as little worth 
 
 As bird-notes tinkling through the boughs. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 47 
 
 We shoot an arrow in the dark, 
 
 Nor know if destiny will guide 
 
 The careless missile all aside, 
 Or drive it through a throbbing mark. 
 
 And yet the fragile jest may live, 
 
 A prophecy of something sure, 
 
 Of something bitter to endure. 
 Or sweet as Paradise can give. 
 
 Underneath. 
 
 The skater lightly laughs and glides, 
 Unknowing that, beneath the ice 
 Whereon he carves his fair device, 
 
 A stiffened corpse in silence slides. 
 
 It glareth upward at his play ; 
 Its rigid, ashy fingers steal 
 Beneath his gaily flying heel ; 
 
 It floats along and floats away. 
 
 He has not seen its horror pass ; 
 
 His heart is blithe; the village hears 
 His distant laughter; he careers 
 
 In festive waltz athwart the glass. 
 
 We are the skaters, we who skim 
 The glare of life's enchanted flood. 
 And drive with gladness in the blood 
 
 A daring dance from brim to brim. 
 
48 MEDLEY. 
 
 Our feet are swift, our faces burn, 
 Our hopes aspire like soaring birds ; 
 The world takes courage from our words 
 
 And sees the golden time return. 
 
 But ever near us, silent, cold. 
 
 Are those who bounded from the bank 
 With eager hearts, like us, and sank 
 
 Because their feet were overbold. 
 
 They sank through breathing-holes of vice, 
 Through luring sheens of unbelief ; 
 They know not their despair and grief ; 
 
 Their hearts and minds are turned to ice. 
 
 The Wizard. 
 
 The pulse of sunlight, ocean, air and flame, 
 The pulse of rhythm along the cadenced line, 
 The pulse of music, Ponto's pulse and mine, 
 
 Are they diverse, O Wizard, or the same? 
 
 I heard the Wizard answer from the sky : 
 "The universe is but a phantom show ; 
 I bid one shadow come, another go; 
 
 There is but one thing real; it is I. 
 
 "Their strength is but a little heat ; their soul 
 Is but a little swiftness ; they are waves 
 That only move to find their sudden graves. 
 
 That only seem to live because they roll." 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 49 
 
 He said moreover, "Each to each I turn; 
 
 I interchange and play the game agen ; 
 
 I crown the water- jeUies kings of men; 
 I summon midges from the kingly urn. 
 
 "The same!" the Wizard said, "the very same! 
 
 The same in matter, rhythmus, heat and power ! 
 
 I know not why the fleeting shapes I shower 
 Around my throne bear difference of name." 
 
 Despondencies. 
 
 Where are the visions of my boyish nights? 
 
 And where the glowing hopes of yestermorn ? 
 
 Have I done anything since I was bom 
 But watch, with eyelids closed, unreal sights? 
 
 I sometimes think of labors gone before, 
 And say, "To-morrow morning I resume; 
 The treasured flask retains the old perfume." — 
 
 Alas ! the treasured flask retains no more. 
 
 Unless the sun of Austerlitz arise, 
 
 In vain the chieftain's head, the hero's heart; 
 
 Unless the tricksy wind of fortune start, 
 We cannot reach our Earthly Paradise. 
 
 An archer shot an arrow in the dark. 
 
 And laughed, " 'Tis but an arrow thrown away." 
 But when he sported forth at break of day 
 
 He found his brother lying white and stark. 
 
so 
 
 MEDLEY. 
 
 A Speck of dust has lost another speck, 
 
 And prays the Sund'ring Storm to soothe its woes ; 
 The Storm drives on, and every moment blows 
 
 A thousand other tiny loves to wreck. 
 
 Each century some mighty soul displays 
 The all-explaining Fact which all admit ; 
 But ere a hundred years his name is writ 
 
 Among the charlatans of bygone days. 
 
 ''No hell !" the sage proclaimed : we danced with mirth. 
 Apollyon heard, and answered with a smile : 
 "You cannot do without me yet awhile. 
 
 Unless you hanker for a hell on earth." 
 
 En Voyage. 
 
 I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Tears, 
 
 And sighed to see the spectres thronging through ; 
 But they replied, "You are the captive, you ! 
 
 We have been free as air these many years." 
 
 I watched the billows beat the Adrian shore; 
 
 Each tossed exultingly, then ceased to be ; 
 
 And one of them was you, and one was me : 
 But Ocean lived and thundered as before. 
 
 The Coliseum ! There at Caesar's feet. 
 The gladiator bowed his pale farewell ; 
 But pausing there, I mused of Heaven and Hell, 
 And worlds dismissed to triumph or defeat. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 5 I 
 
 While in the Pantheon I knelt to pray, 
 
 With thoughts of Jove and Jesus much perplext, 
 A broken Hermes scoffed, "What credence next?" 
 
 And haloed saints lamented, ''Who can say?" 
 
 To find the Truth, the Truth that cannot die, 
 I wandered darkling, wandered everywhere. 
 Until a statue, through the Grecian air. 
 
 All beautiful, responded, "Here am I." 
 
 New York Bay in 1624, 
 
 Skipper Cornelis Mey, hardy sea-rover of Holland, 
 Clutches with horny hand the galliot's squeaking 
 tiller. 
 Whistling a viking's prayer to indolent elves of breezes, 
 Marking the shaking sails and the streaky foam of 
 the currents ; 
 Whiles, in the hollowing waist, sombre of visage and 
 vesture, 
 Marvelling, stand the Walloons, dumb as if carven 
 in marble. 
 Watching the oncoming point of a hazy, forested 
 island. 
 Dotted with cabins of bark, where salvages scream 
 and signal 
 Wild invitation — to what? barter? or cannibal battle? 
 
 Wandering, swarthy Walloons, born of pre-Aryan 
 races, 
 
52 MEDLEY. 
 
 Chased from Numidian* plains to Europe in mythi- 
 cal aeons; 
 Hunters primeval beside the Tagus and Guadalquivir, 
 Threading the bald Pyrenees, the forests of Gaul and 
 Arden ; 
 Scattering Teuton and Kimber, yielding to Caesar and 
 Clovis, 
 Torn by unwearying war, shared among chaffering 
 princes. 
 Yet still existent, nor quite forgetful of name and 
 glory; 
 Whither betide you at last? sons of the Belgae — 
 my fathers — 
 Tracking the Occident wave under the lion of Holland. 
 
 "Tumults and terrors we leave, flying from Spain the 
 destroyer 
 Drunken with blood of the saints, thirsting for blood 
 forever ; 
 Battle-trod Europe we leave, seeking the shores of 
 Atlantis, 
 Daring the grave-digging sea, the deadly breath of 
 morasses. 
 Daring the puma and bear, the wolf and furtive 
 Mohican ; 
 Hoping, at least, to obtain peace from the warrings 
 of nations. 
 Peace from the scaffold and stake; yea, freedom of 
 word and worship." 
 
 * So say Collignon and others, while Ripley and others say 
 Armenian. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS AND REVERIES. 53 
 
 So answer the dark Walloons, pilgrims of numerous 
 ages, 
 Hunted from land unto land by stress of following 
 peoples. 
 
 The Old-Time Village. 
 
 Evening descends on the village. 
 The dew has jeweled the blooms, 
 
 The hawks are wheeling and darting, 
 The beetles whir in the glooms. 
 
 ^vloonlight silvers the rapid, 
 The waterfall pours its drone, 
 
 The frogs hold revel in chorus. 
 The whippoorwill grieves alone. 
 
 A somnolent handful gathers 
 
 In the dusky schoolhouse for prayer 
 
 Beneath the sharp nose of the pastor 
 Two candles gutter and flare. 
 
 A russet-faced deacon rises , 
 
 To speak — if ever he can. 
 He halts and mumbles : no matter : 
 
 God hears the worthy wee man. 
 
 A ringleted maiden's treble 
 
 Bewitches the schoolboy's ear : — 
 
 Even yet, O dimpled soprano. 
 Your anthem exults, and I hear ! 
 
54 MEDLEY. 
 
 The village remains, and the river 
 Beams, and the roses blow; 
 
 But the longs ince dead are the only 
 Abiders there I know. 
 
 The living pass me in silence, 
 Remembrance and welcome fail; 
 
 But the holy ones of the churchyard 
 Awaken to bid me, Hail ! 
 
TALES AND BALLADS 
 
TALES AND BALLx\DS. 
 
 A Seaside Story. 
 
 I 
 
 The Mermaiden. 
 
 There were jubilant sails on the ocean 
 And skeleton wrecks on the land ; 
 
 There were laughters of billows in motion 
 To dance and to die on the sand. 
 
 There were shadowy Thules of islands, 
 Where Edens of lovers might be ; 
 
 There was sea to the faraway skylands, 
 Wild, futile heartbeatings of sea. 
 
 There were sea-gods and nymphs in the waters 
 That burnished the beach with their spray ; 
 
 All the beautiful sons and the daughters 
 Of ocean had gathered in play. 
 
 But the marvel of all, and the jewel, 
 
 Was a heart that had worshipped for years, 
 
 Which a mermaiden laughing and cruel 
 Had flung to a tempest of tears. 
 
58 MEDLEY. 
 
 II 
 
 The Seaside Lake. 
 
 A lake beside the ocean's brim, 
 Where velvet lilies dream and swim, 
 And rushes nod beside the whisper 
 Of ripples shimmering faint and dim. 
 
 Anear, the yearning tempest cries ; 
 It comes from Love's lost paradise; 
 
 It leaps against the barring beaches ; 
 It foams in agony, writhes and dies. 
 
 In vain the surges sob and break; 
 They cannot reach the prisoned lake, 
 Nor rive the crystal of its ripples, 
 Nor kiss one silvery flower awake. 
 
 O love, our lives are shored apart, 
 And all the cyclones of my heart 
 
 Can never fling one throbbing billow 
 Among the refuges where thou art. 
 
 Ill 
 
 The Meeting. 
 
 Do you remember the night 
 Of crescented, astral glamor, 
 
 The beaches brindled with light. 
 The foam and the billowy clamor? 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 59 
 
 Do you remember the bliss 
 
 So stealthily sought and hidden? 
 
 The clasp, the pressure, the kiss, 
 That all the gods had forbidden? 
 
 Alas that a love for life 
 
 Must live and die without token ! 
 That the dearest of words, ''My wife" 
 
 Must be forever unspoken ! 
 
 As Heaven is my witness, I 
 
 Had gladly cherished that woman 
 
 In face of the sea and the sky. 
 The earth and all that is human. 
 
 Years hence that evening will beam 
 
 Athwart life's ocean of sadness. 
 And I shall see it, and dream 
 
 That loving was naught but gladness. 
 
 IV 
 
 Remembrance. 
 
 I had thought to see her no more, 
 
 But I dwell in Thules of fancy. 
 And she haunteth their every shore 
 
 With her beautiful necromancy. 
 
 In the midnight's hiddenmost lair, 
 
 In the morning's vividest portal, 
 I discern her aslant on air. 
 
 Like a spirit who greets a mortal. 
 
6o MEDLEY. 
 
 O the delicate, tender gleam 
 Of the carven Parian features, 
 
 Such as sculptors delight to dream 
 Of in marble for godlike creatures ! 
 
 As I worship she seems to chase 
 All of sombreness from my story, 
 
 And around me infinite space 
 
 Overbrims one moment with glory. 
 
 But a moment ! And then the spot 
 Is a cell for the broken-hearted, 
 
 And that portraiture, thus forgot. 
 Is another angel departed. 
 
 Tender and True. 
 
 I 
 
 The Stroll. 
 
 Do you remember the diadem 
 
 Of purple cliff where we stood together, 
 Beneath the canopied golden weather. 
 
 And saw the lanskip gleam like a gem ? 
 
 Saw burnished river, meadow and vales. 
 The lustrous domes of emerald highland, 
 The topaz strand of the distant island, 
 
 The turquoise mere and the pearly sails? 
 
 The pageant flashed like a jeweled dream; 
 
 But your enchantment doubled the splendor ; 
 
 You cast the glory, mighty and tender. 
 Of love on forest, meadow and stream. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 6 1 
 
 Far into heaven I soared the while; 
 
 Frail as you seemed, you had seraph pinions ; 
 
 You bore me to fanes in starry dominions ; 
 You made me god with merely your smile. 
 
 You made me god, companioned with you — 
 Ashtar and Adon — sister and brother; 
 But not alike divine to each other; 
 
 I was the sham god ; you were the true. 
 
 Do you remember — Alas, alas ! 
 
 'Tis I, and I alone, who remember ; 
 
 That hour, to you, is a perished ember, 
 A withered nosegay, an emptied glass. 
 
 II 
 
 A Hope. 
 
 A little hope ! 
 
 It may not be true ! 
 
 And the heavens above me seem to ope 
 Their curtains of blue; 
 
 And the angel ladders of sunlight slope 
 For me to mount and pass through. , 
 
 The tale that I heard 
 
 Was only the chirp of a random bird, 
 
 A babble some ancient grimalkin purred, 
 
 The repetition of nobody's word, 
 A note that hazard or fantasy blew, 
 That the freaky pigmies of elfland drew 
 From harebell trumpets jeweled with dew. 
 
62 MEDLEY. 
 
 Why should I mope, 
 
 I who have dared with heroes to cope, 
 
 Who barely yesterday ceased to gird 
 My loins for battle with treason's crew ? 
 
 Why should I throb and reel and shiver 
 
 Like a reed in the river. 
 Because an airy inanity stirred. 
 
 Because an arrow from falsehood's quiver 
 Out of vacancy whirred. 
 
 Into nothingness flew 
 And is spent forever? 
 
 Now peace has come, 
 The air with promise of love is laden ; 
 
 I will turn my back on the silenced drum 
 
 And seek the rest of my childhood's home, 
 There to worship once more and sue 
 
 Before the face of the fairest girl 
 
 God ever wrought in coral and pearl, 
 Or marble of Aidenn. 
 
 Ill 
 
 The Wedding. 
 
 I have fought and fallen. The strife was vain, 
 The maniac wrestle for unbelief — 
 
 Recoil of an idiot wild with pain — 
 A tortured idiot, mad for relief. 
 
 I have seen and believed. The tale stood well — 
 As strong as despair and sin and grief — 
 
 As true as — yes, that earth is a hell 
 
 Where onlv the damned and the devils dwell. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 63 
 
 I lurked by the lattice and saw — not all — 
 But more and clearer than heart could bear. 
 
 A taunting splendor illumined the hall; 
 The music clamored with insolent blare. 
 
 I cowered and glared while the careless tread 
 Of passers jostled my dumb despair, 
 
 Not knowing thev trampled a heart that bled, 
 
 Not knowing they stumbled against one dead. 
 
 The gibbering drunkard struck my cheek ; 
 
 But what to me was a stranger's blow ? 
 My friend had stabbed me; my soul was weak 
 
 And humble and unresenting with woe. 
 And she I worshipped had edged the blade, 
 
 And bidden me bare my breast. But no! 
 I cannot hate her; I was not made 
 To curse the altar where once I prayed. 
 
 They had craved my presence. A scented note 
 Arrived in bridal ribbons to plead — 
 
 Go ! I would sooner have held my throat 
 To the cannibal's knife and bid him feed. 
 
 Go! I trampled the billet to earth 
 
 And swore to have done with the human breed — 
 
 To house myself by my blighted hearth 
 
 Till the burial mutes should bear me forth. 
 
 And yet I went — like a beggar crept * 
 
 Through tainted alleys and reeled to the door ; 
 
 Shaded my visage and wept — yes, wept ! 
 To hear the viols their jubilee pour — 
 
64 MEDLEY. 
 
 Quivered with rage when the rhythmic beat 
 Of dancers hollowly thrummed the floor, 
 And started away with tremulous feet 
 If a waltzer paused by the window seat. 
 
 At last I wandered, crouching and dumb, 
 Like a starving tiger, balked of his prey, 
 
 To my lonely dwelling, my childhood's home 
 (My cell henceforth to my dying day). 
 
 Divided from hers by a wooded dell, 
 And watched in frenzy her window ray 
 
 Until it vanished, and with it fell 
 
 The only glimmer that lighted my hell. 
 
 IV 
 
 The Grove. 
 
 The wooded ravine fills with night 
 Between her roof and mine, 
 
 But through its boughs I mark the light 
 Of her chamber window shine, 
 
 A dazing glimmer, ruby bright. 
 That turns my brain like wine. 
 
 A little grove, a hundred trees: 
 ^ I know each oak and fir. 
 I wander there to hear the glees 
 
 Of the birds who sing of her. 
 To kiss the passing of the breeze 
 
 Whose plumes her curtain stir. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 65 
 
 A little grove, but cruel strong, 
 
 It rules us like to slaves ; 
 Between our lives its shadows throng 
 
 With the sweep of ocean's waves; 
 The power that sunders right from wrong 
 
 Pervades the leafy naves. 
 
 No might but his could break the spell 
 
 Who lords the demon sky. 
 How often would I thank him well. 
 
 If the beast w^ould steal anigh 
 And lead me through that barring dell — 
 
 To win her? — No, to die. 
 
 The Sleep. 
 
 He had threaded the wood; 
 
 He had paused in its utmost verge, 
 The verge where her dwelling stood ; 
 And there had laid him to brood 
 
 In tune to the night-wind's dirge. 
 To the wail of midnight's mournfulest mood. 
 
 And there he slept 
 When the morning threw 
 Its fragrant shadows athwart the dew 
 
 And dried the tears that the roses had wept 
 The tender light of the infant morn, 
 The light of a day just born, 
 
 Awoke from its cradle and touched his brow ; 
 
 A day that never knew him till now 
 
66 MEDLEY. 
 
 Parted the branches and touched and kist 
 
 More gently than kisses the frosted flake. 
 As though it loved the moment it wist. 
 
 It touched, but might not awake; 
 
 Alas ! nor evil nor good, 
 
 That slumber may shake. 
 He sleeps 
 
 In the midst of the mighty brood 
 Who inhabit the unknown caves 
 Beneath eternity's deeps, 
 Beneath the mere whose ripples are graves. 
 
 He knows the slumber that wakes not, 
 
 He has entered the rest that breaks not. 
 His eyes, while gazing upon her home, 
 Where footstep of his might never come, 
 
 Had drooped and closed forever. 
 They saw the Eden forbid to him ; 
 They saw — and then their sight was dim. 
 
 The heavens darkened, earth fell dumb. 
 The clock that striketh, "Forever ! Never !" 
 
 Rang out. He passed eternity's brim. 
 Gone was the thought of gladness departed, 
 
 Gone the sorrow that slew; 
 And there he lay, the brave loving-hearted, 
 
 Love's Douglas, tender and true. 
 
 J 
 
 I 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 6/ 
 
 VI 
 
 The Dead March. 
 
 The hoarse drum groans, the shrill fife greets, 
 The dead-march wails from hearth to tomb. 
 
 The ranked feet tramp through black-hung streets, 
 The swart steeds drag the bier's slow gloom. 
 
 The men he led still march with him. 
 They keep the step and speak no word ; 
 
 Their brows are knit, their eyes are dim. 
 
 Their thoughts are grave, their hearts are stirred. 
 
 They mind how oft in war's fierce blaze 
 
 He cheered them where a fiend might quail, 
 
 How red his cheek, how blithe his gaze — 
 
 That gaze now quenched, that cheek now pale. 
 
 With slow, set tread they pass her by. 
 
 She gives one glance and drops one tear. 
 They know he died, they ask not why; 
 
 They mark her not, though she is near. 
 
 They hold that death is lord of all, 
 
 They hold that no man owns his breath, 
 
 They hold that each must have his ball, 
 That life 'is war, and war is death. 
 
 They halt ; they fire the last sad shot 
 
 With calm, stern eyes and sure, strong hands ; 
 
 Then quickly, lightly leave the spot 
 To jubilant bars of brazen bands. 
 
68 . MEDLEY. 
 
 The Same in the Ending. 
 
 Our eyes greet often and often, 
 Yet know each other no better, 
 
 Though sometimes hers seemed tO' soften 
 When sudden and near I met her. 
 
 And once -I thought she grew paler 
 Because I approached too boldly. 
 
 What folly ! No heartbeat would fail her. 
 Though I slept starkly and coldly. 
 
 No doubt 'twould waken her scorning 
 To know that such fancies cheer me ; 
 
 To know that I rise each morning 
 From visions throning her near me; 
 
 To know that throbbing and humming 
 And dizziness stir my senses 
 
 When far off I see her coming 
 And hope for one of her glances. 
 
 What could she care for a stranger, 
 Grave, silent, passing in hurry. 
 
 Whose love would be but a danger, 
 Whose gaze perhaps is a worry? 
 
 Farewell! We part without meeting; 
 
 Yet the senseless word rings sadly. 
 Farewell ! 'Tis my only greeting 
 
 To one I might have loved madly. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 69 
 
 With tears it was felt and written ; 
 
 Alas ! it could not be spoken. 
 Years flitted ; those hearts v/ere smitten 
 
 By others ; by others broken. 
 
 'Twas all the same in the ending; 
 
 'Twas only sobbing and sighing; 
 Their smiles were naught but pretending; 
 
 Their first true gladness was dying. 
 
 'Twas all the same in the sorrow 
 
 As though they had tower'd in sinning; 
 
 And if God's to-day had no morrow, 
 
 His smile were scarcely worth winning. ^ 
 
 The Vestal. 
 
 All the day we are holden asunder 
 
 By destiny's infinite hands, 
 By society's carping and wonder; 
 
 By creeds and their stony commands. 
 By the chidings of dogma and virtue, 
 
 By maidenhood's blush in your face. 
 By my terror lest loving may hurt you. 
 
 By conscience and grace. 
 
 But at night, in the Eden of slumber. 
 All obstacles fade and depart; 
 
 Nor the planets nor man may encumber 
 My way to your side and your heart ; 
 
70 MEDLEY. 
 
 I believe that my longings have won you 
 To render my soul its desire; 
 
 I believe that my kisses fall on you 
 Like rose leaves of fire. 
 
 So we live till the moment of waking 
 
 Removes you and joy from my side; 
 Yes, the day in its envious breaking 
 
 Has stolen my virginal bride, 
 Who laid on my shoulder her tresses 
 
 And smiled when I called her my own ; 
 It has borne her from vows and caresses. 
 
 And left me alone. 
 
 The Bishop of Thule. 
 
 The Lord Archbishop of Thule 
 ( God grant him honor and ruth ! ) 
 
 Believed most truly and duly 
 In all that he held for truth. 
 
 As angels know in the skylands 
 High grace the bishop achieved; 
 
 He sailed to the Fairy Islands 
 
 And preached there what he believed. 
 
 He summoned the elfin legions 
 To leave their heathenish creed. 
 
 And told them of lofty regions 
 More lovely than fairy mead. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. /I 
 
 Far into the night lie pleaded ; 
 
 The moon went hearkening by, 
 And only the starlight beaded 
 
 The magical elfland sky. 
 
 ''O brothers," he cried, "great wonders 
 The truth of my words shall prove; 
 
 Belief can loosen the thunders 
 And cause the hills to remove. 
 
 ''But thunders would sorely frighten. 
 
 And never a hill is here ; 
 I'll pray that the stars which brighten 
 
 This welkin may disappear." 
 
 His honest old hands he lifted. 
 
 And closed his honest old eyes. 
 And prayed till the daybeams drifted 
 
 In argosies through the skies. 
 
 Then yearning, hoping, confiding. 
 
 Upturning his grateful gaze, 
 He saw the galaxies hiding 
 
 Their glory in morning's haze. 
 
 Thereon the little brown people, 
 
 The trolls and fairies and elves, 
 Erected a chapel and steeple. 
 
 And prayed for wonders themselves. 
 
 And the bishop proclaimed in Thule, 
 
 "A miracle God hath wrought ;" 
 And all that he said he truly 
 
 Believed in his inmost thought. 
 
72 MEDLEY. 
 
 The Lost Hunter. 
 
 The mountains grow daily stranger, 
 The river windings betray; 
 
 And the raiiger who laughed at danger 
 Has lost forever his way. 
 
 Full many a shore he trended, 
 Full many a desert crost. 
 
 Full many a crest ascended ; 
 
 But Boone, the hunter, was lost. 
 
 At last, as the day fell dimmer. 
 He came to a peak of snow. 
 
 Revealing with ghostly glimmer 
 
 More countries than mortals know. 
 
 And there, on the topmost glisten. 
 The ranger saw phantoms three, 
 
 Each warning, "O pilgrim, listen !" 
 Each pleading, "O come with me !" 
 
 A seraph was one from glory. 
 And one was a darkling sprite, 
 
 And one was a chieftain of story 
 The hunter had slain in fight. 
 
 Three trails they showed him, divided 
 The one from the other far; 
 
 The first through firmaments glided 
 To ramparts bright as a star; 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 73 
 
 The second slanted through shadows 
 Beyond earth's somberest bounds ; 
 
 The third sought emerald meadows — 
 The Beautiful Hunting Grounds. 
 
 Said Boone, ''The skyland is brighter 
 
 Than sinner like me may scale, 
 And only a craven fighter 
 
 Belongs in the murky trail ; 
 
 ''So now to my ancient foeman 
 
 I proffer my troth and say: 
 Guide me, O bowman, where no man 
 
 Unearths the hatchet to slay." 
 
 The Goat. 
 
 When Lucifer fled from Salem 
 
 He rode a reverend goat 
 Who talked like the beast of Baalam 
 
 And knew all magic by rote. 
 
 No steed had ever such motion. 
 Or strength, or terrible mien; 
 
 He vaulted mountain and ocean, 
 He frighted as soon as seen. 
 
 Wherever his footfalls dallied 
 
 They withered the blooms and grass 
 
 The comets and stars went pallid 
 With horror to see him pass. 
 
74 MEDLEY. 
 
 The witches welcomed his coming, 
 The dead arose from their graves, 
 
 The fiends fled husthng and humming 
 From Sheol's shadiest caves. 
 
 The goat got prouder and prouder, 
 He fancied this power his own; 
 
 Each minute he boasted louder, 
 And talked of himself alone. 
 
 "Dear Satan, the day is breaking 
 When earth will know me," he said; 
 
 "The stars in the sky are quaking 
 Already to hear my tread. 
 
 "My force and knowledge of magic 
 Are surely beyond compare ; 
 
 I long to do something tragic 
 And make the universe stare. 
 
 "I long to throw down a quarter. 
 Or so, of the heavenly host. 
 
 And trample the trash to mortar. 
 To show who governs the roast. 
 
 Just then the pilgrimage ended 
 Beside the portal of Hell ; 
 
 In silence Satan descended. 
 
 Scarce nodding the goat farewell. 
 
 That moment his gifts departed — 
 Gab, sorcery, speed and pluck ; 
 
 No longer Creation started 
 Whenever he reared to buck. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 75 
 
 A Fable of Salem. 
 
 "'Come quickly !" wept the dying Grace ; 
 
 ''Abide with me, my pastor! 
 Then might I finish well the race, 
 
 And mount and fly the faster ; 
 Then might I suffer the Maker's face 
 
 And kiss the feet of the Master." 
 
 But far away the forest rocked 
 
 With storms from curst dominions ; 
 
 The witches skirred, the wizards flocked. 
 The air was thick with pinions ; 
 
 And there the minister danced and mocked 
 With Satan's sootiest minions. 
 
 He mocked and danced in priestly black ; 
 
 No warlock matched his leaping. 
 Apollyon clapped his portly back 
 
 And laughed almost to weeping; 
 And the parson skipped like a jumping- jack 
 
 To think his deacons were sleeping. 
 
 But high above the mongrel herd, 
 
 Above the maddened Endor, 
 The mighty, shining cohorts gird 
 
 A throne of awful splendor. 
 And a seraph sternly writes a word 
 
 No language of earth can render. 
 
'J^ MEDLEY. 
 
 The Brave. 
 
 The river hastens and gHstens. 
 
 (Has destiny's stream a shore?) 
 The weary voyager Hstens, 
 
 And hears the cataract's roar. 
 
 The foam is flashing and leaping, 
 But strongly he rows for life. 
 
 (Ah, who can think without weeping 
 Of many a hopeless strife?) 
 
 The banks are luscious and glowing 
 With flowers and flowery breath; 
 
 The vines their fruitage are showing 
 To him who wrestles with death. 
 
 The woodland carols and twitters 
 Bravuras from every limb; 
 
 The whole earth warbles and glitters 
 With gladness for all but him. 
 
 The paddles quiver — they shiver! 
 
 But nothing may shake a chief; 
 He yields his life to the river, 
 
 But conquers terror and grief. ' 
 
 His robe around him he gathers. 
 Defying his howling grave, 
 
 And chants the dirge of his fathers. 
 And dies the death of a brave. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. // 
 
 So let me face the disaster 
 
 That ravens beneath my prow, 
 Affrontmg woe as a master 
 
 And plunging w4th changeless brow. 
 
 The Pilgrim. 
 
 Afar, above sorrow and peril. 
 
 He sees the Bright City unfold 
 Its walls of sardonyx and beryl, 
 
 Of chrysoprase, jacinth and gold, 
 Its galaxied turrets and portals. 
 
 Its glories that never grow dim, 
 While, crowning its splendor, immortals 
 
 Wave welcome, a welcome to him. 
 
 Below him, he watches the regions 
 
 Of death and the shadow of death; 
 He hears the oncoming of legions 
 
 Who threaten with flamings for breath ; 
 Behind them Hell luridly lightens, 
 
 The smoke of its torment ascends ; 
 But calmly his armor he tightens 
 
 And swiftly to battle descends. 
 
 Thus doeth the valiant pure-hearted, 
 
 The lofty, the leader of men; 
 Thus vanquished the noble departed 
 
 Whose trophies remain to our ken; 
 They blenched not for labor or sorrow ; 
 
 They charged, though Avernus might glow. 
 Then so let me meet my to-morrow, 
 
 Though bucklered and cuirassed with woe. 
 
78 MEDLEY. 
 
 The Demon's Story. 
 
 Now hearken ! derided the devil 
 (Buffoon of the powers of air) ; 
 
 I wearied of tempting the evil, 
 I wearied of vexing despair; 
 
 I hardly arrived for the revel ; 
 
 I flew, but the mourning was there. 
 
 Then cycle on cycle I waited 
 
 For one who was joyous and pure ; 
 
 With mortals uncounted I mated, 
 Aye searching for happiness sure ; 
 
 For innocence such as I hated, 
 To practice my torture or lure. 
 
 I found him, the raptured, the holy. 
 The man without trespass or tear; 
 
 His visage was loving and lowly, 
 His eyes beheld Paradise near; 
 
 But slowly his breathing fell; slowly 
 His riven heart reddened a spear. 
 
 The Dark Comrade. 
 
 Through days of enigma and sorrow 
 (From doubt and dejection unscreened) 
 
 Through vigils that dreaded the morrow 
 (Ah, never a star intervened!), 
 
 I walked with the friend of my bosom, 
 And that friend was a mournful fiend. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 79 
 
 For years we were pilgrims united ; 
 
 Oh, strange were those otherworld years ! 
 We darkled like goblins affrighted, 
 
 We whispered of perils and tears; 
 Yes, terrible friend of my bosom, 
 
 Thoii sharedst my anguish and fears. 
 
 Long since that companion departed; 
 
 I know not the wherefore nor when. 
 Henceforth I was humaner hearted. 
 
 And herded and labored with men; 
 Yet often, dark friend of my bosom, 
 
 I would change the Now for the Then. 
 
 Yea more ! I would greet thee with gladness 
 
 And nevermore part from thy side ; 
 Would follow thee. Shadow of madness, 
 
 Wherever thy moaning may guide ; 
 Yea, follow thee, friend of my bosom. 
 
 Though seraphim beckon and chide. 
 
 Calenture. 
 
 She came ; she was my father's child ; 
 
 She bore my mother's guise. 
 She came ; a cunning fiend beguiled ; 
 
 They dazed each other's eyes. 
 The joy that on my bridal smiled 
 
 Fell swiftly from the skies. 
 
 I heard them parting in the night; 
 
 Three hearts together bled 
 If ever woman pitied wight, 
 
80 MEDLEY. 
 
 I pitied him who plead; 
 If ever maid won crown of Hght, 
 She won it well who fled. 
 
 But since, a darkness covers all, 
 The sun no more will shine; 
 
 Dim phantoms flit along the wall, 
 Low incantations whine; 
 
 Unearthly creatures weave a pall. 
 And whisper it is mine. 
 
 The Plaything Sky. 
 
 Where do the children fly 
 When they are dreaming? 
 
 Straight to the Plaything Sky, 
 Soaring and beaming. 
 
 Over the Wonder Sea 
 Sparkle the darlings, 
 
 Clapping their hands with glee, 
 Singing like starlings. 
 
 Wonderful lands appear. 
 
 Wonderful cities ; 
 AVonderful talk they hear. 
 
 Wonderful ditties. 
 
 Squirrels come out to them, 
 Butterflies sing to them. 
 
 Guinea-pigs shout to them. 
 Tulip-bells ring to them. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 8 1 
 
 Hosts of tin soldier men 
 
 Wave their tin banners, 
 Candy-wigged aldermen 
 
 Make their wigged manners. 
 
 Gingerbread gentles whack 
 
 Gingerbread ponies ; 
 Sugarstick ladies smack 
 
 Sugarstick cronies. 
 
 Sitting in royal state, 
 
 Counting her tea things, 
 Giggles the little-great 
 
 Queen of the playthings. 
 
 Manikin troopers stand 
 
 Round her wee palace ; 
 Manikin maidens hand 
 
 Cream-pot and chalice. 
 
 Wooden horns clamor out, 
 
 ''Children are coming" ; 
 Wooden drums hammer out 
 
 Welcome becoming. 
 
 Down trips her majesty, 
 
 Smiling and kissing; 
 Roundabout busses she, 
 
 Not a child missingf. 
 
 'fe- 
 
 Then to her regal hall 
 Kindly she leads them ; 
 
 Gives them her playthings all. 
 Aprons and feeds them. 
 
82 MEDLEY. 
 
 Gaily the children play, 
 
 Chatter and simper; 
 Then, of a sudden, they 
 
 Wake np and whimper. 
 
 Where is the Plaything Queen? 
 
 Where are her treasures? 
 Gone to the Neverseen — 
 
 Gone, like earth's pleasures. 
 
 The Fastidious Goblin. 
 
 There was an imp of Endor, 
 
 Eternities gone by, 
 Who saw the Lord of Splendor 
 
 Create his starry sky. 
 
 He saw the great suns stealing 
 From nothing and from night. 
 
 The worlds begin their wheeling. 
 The comets take their flight. 
 
 The mighty, mingled forces 
 Suffused creation's frame; 
 
 Along the astral courses 
 
 Throbbed motion, heat and flame. 
 
 The galaxies went singing 
 Adown their wondrous ways ; 
 
 The universe was ringing 
 
 With gladness and with praise. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 83 
 
 Then boasted Master Goblin 
 
 He too would make a sphere, 
 And straight began his cobbling, 
 
 And wrought perchance a year. 
 
 But nothing could he fashion ; 
 
 No world for him might be: 
 He lacked the godlike passion; 
 
 Creative love lacked he. 
 
 His work had neither motion, 
 Nor light, nor form, nor grace — 
 
 A wreck on being's ocean, 
 A blur on glory's face. 
 
 So, seeing that no creature 
 
 Of his might thread the skies, 
 He throned himself as teacher, 
 
 And dared to criticise. 
 
 He called the comets crazy. 
 
 The systems badly massed ; 
 The Milky Way was hazy. 
 
 The suns were overcast. 
 
 The plan was accidental, 
 
 The start foretold the close, 
 The tone was sentimental. 
 
 The scenes lacked Greek repose. 
 
 In nature all was lacking. 
 
 And lacking too in art ; 
 A little wholesome hacking 
 
 Would better every part. 
 
84 MEDLEY. I 
 
 The motives should be fewer, | 
 
 The aim more pure and high ; | 
 
 And any good reviewer | 
 
 Could make a better sky. ' 
 
 Or, if he praised, 'twas only 
 
 The dimmest of the host ; 
 The great orbs shining lonely 
 
 Were those he flouted most. 
 
 And, ever since, his mission J 
 
 Has been to blame and sneer, j 
 
 Consigning to perdition | 
 
 The lights God holdeth dear ; • 
 
 The first, the greatest critic. 
 
 The model of his kind, 
 The goblin analytic 
 
 Who hates creative mind. 
 
 The Old Knight and the Damozel. 
 
 I think these limbs are strong again, 
 These scanty locks are newly brown ; 
 
 In thought I mount my steed amain 
 And ride afar for her renown. 
 
 In dusty lists, where trumpets blare, 
 I quell the dourest knights that live, 
 
 And crown her queen of beauty there, 
 And kiss the glove she bends to give. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 85 
 
 I sail afar 'neath orient stars, 
 
 Climb terraced slopes of Palestine, 
 Shout Agnes through the helmet bars, 
 
 And break the Paynim's turbaned line. 
 
 I carry slaughter through the tents, 
 I stain with blood the Kedron's tide ; 
 
 I mount the holy battlements, 
 
 And aye for her I strike and ride. ' 
 
 Thou fair and noble Damozel, 
 
 Thy name shall be my battle-cry 
 In joust and storm and charging mell, 
 
 Wherever knight may do or die. 
 
 II 
 
 He summoned archer, squire and steed. 
 He pledged anew his lordly wealth; 
 
 Then raised a golden cup of mead. 
 And, ere he mounted, drank her health. 
 
 Alas, O loving heart and pure! 
 
 The light is fading from his eyes ; 
 And sighing, "Agnes, reine d'Amour !" 
 
 He drinks to her, but drinking dies. 
 
 And where was she? — In castle hall 
 She danced to pipe and dulcimer; 
 
 She knew not anything at all 
 
 Of him who dying drank to her. 
 
^6 
 
 MEDLEY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 In the Golden City. 
 
 The Old Knight: 
 
 Lord, thou knowest what befell 
 That latest love thou grantedst me 
 
 While I was living. Was it well 
 To quench it as it 'gan to be ? 
 
 The Lord: 
 
 'Twas well. No rosebud damozel 
 Can bloom aright on blighted tree ; 
 
 And time it was for thee to see 
 
 The mansions where my good knights dwell. 
 
 The Old Knight: 
 
 1 thank thee, Lord, I worship Thee; 
 Thy grace is more than tongue can tell. 
 
 But, one last favor. Lord ! will she. 
 My love, betide to Heaven or Hell? 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 He loved a rosebud maiden, 
 
 The knight of silver hair; 
 And never a saint in Aidenn 
 
 Will seem to him so fair; 
 And, be it in Hell or Aidenn, 
 
 He hopes to find her there. 
 
tales and ballads. 8/ 
 
 The Vanished Castle. 
 
 I tread the site of the castle 
 
 Where dwelt my fathers of yore ; 
 The castle, the lords and the ladies 
 
 Have vanished forevermore. 
 
 Yet the magian hour refashions 
 
 Moat, portcullis and hall, 
 Where phantoms grovel in donjon. 
 
 Or revel in blazoned hall ; 
 
 Where, clutching a dizzy turret, 
 
 A damozel kneels to pray, 
 Her wet eyes chasing a rider, 
 
 In armor, glinting away. 
 
 Hubert and Hugh and Walter, 
 
 Agnes, Matilde, Isabeau, 
 They see me, they beckon — but sudden 
 
 They are whirled to the long-ago. 
 
 The villagers, gathering round me. 
 
 My name and race demand; 
 Then ask with a stare of terror, 
 
 ''Comest thou back for the land?" 
 
 The query commingles the ages : — 
 
 Who am I, friends, but he 
 Hubertus, the old crusader 
 
 Who fell by the Tyrian sea? 
 
MEDLEY. 
 NiFFER. 
 
 I delve in the temple of Niffer, 
 The town that Cannes planned 
 
 Ages ere Babylon lifted 
 
 Her towers in Nebo's land. 
 
 The levels of Accad and Shinar 
 Around me glimmer and steam; 
 
 And I swoon in the quivering slumber 
 Of fever ; and madly I dream. 
 
 O copperhued spademen of Accad, 
 Why do you bellow for gold? 
 
 Backsheesh is the cry of the living; 
 And you went to Sheol of old. 
 
 A myriad moons before Nimrod 
 
 You tickled these plains with the hoe. 
 
 You walled and turreted Niffer, 
 You routed the Kings of the Bow. 
 
 But now you are dead as Merodach, 
 
 And I am as dead as you ; 
 So let us shovel, O brothers, 
 
 To bury each other anew. 
 
tales and ballads. 89 
 
 The Old-Time People. 
 
 I cruised with Sindbad the Sailor 
 
 When this old world was new; 
 We entered ship at Bassora 
 
 And down the Tigris flew. 
 
 We traversed the Gulf of Ormus, 
 
 Where chantiiTg Peris roam, 
 And Mermen abide in cities 
 
 Beneath the whispering foam. 
 
 We coasted the shore of spices, 
 
 The incense-breathing capes ; 
 And we reached the marvellous island 
 
 Where dwell the Manlike Apes. 
 
 But what those Eldermen told me 
 
 I never dared rehearse, 
 Lest mollah and mufti and softa 
 
 Should clench their fists and curse. 
 
 LOCHINVAR IN the SoUTH. 
 
 Oh, young Lochinvar is around in the South ! 
 He has plenty of muscle and plenty of mouth ; 
 Through all the Tar Country his gun is the best, 
 And his knife is plumb ready inside of his vest. 
 
 He rides a grey courser of Messenger breed ; 
 The turpentine forest resounds to his speed ; 
 He minds not the painter's cantankerous squeals, 
 And the moccasins waggle in vain at his heels. 
 
go MEDLEY. 
 
 There's a castle of joyance on Wilmington Bay 
 Where lovers and ladies dance night into day ; 
 Each gent at that shindig is valiant and tall, 
 And rifles by dozens stand loaded in hall. 
 
 But young Lochinvar romps up to the gate, 
 Unheeding of aught but of being too late; 
 He kicks the hounds outen, wades into the swim, 
 And scowls at those suitors, all scowling at him. 
 
 "Fve nothing 'gainst you 'uns," says young Loch- 
 invar ; 
 "Just hold up your flippers and stand as you are ; 
 There's a lady I want here, a tailor-made dame, 
 And Imogen Bill is her idolized name." 
 
 He pranced through the revel, he swarmed for that 
 
 girl, 
 He gave her a cinch and he gave her a whirl. 
 She gurgled a gasp, but she couldn't gasp "No" ; 
 And right down the middle they waltzed for the 
 
 "do'." 
 
 There was mounting in haste among Wilmington 
 
 squires ; 
 A mile in a minute they scored on their flyers ; 
 They hummed over level and valley and hill. 
 But they found not a symptom of Imogen Bill. 
 
 Beside the French Broad, there's a palace of logs. 
 Surrounded by mashes and furnished with dogs, 
 Where Lochinvar sits on a catamount's hide, 
 And watches for rivals, and watches his bride. 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 9 1 
 
 With deerkiller ready and courser and whip, 
 He watches her constant for fear she may skip ; 
 He watches Carhny from mountain to shore ; 
 And Imogen needs all his watching, and more. 
 
 Judge Boodle. 
 
 A congressman Judge Boodle was, 
 
 A cunning chief in caucus, 
 Unversed in statesmanship and laws, 
 
 But able to out-talk us. 
 
 To Boodle came a lady fair, 
 In rich and radiant raiment, 
 
 Whose coaxing smile and lovelorn air 
 Betokened her a claimant. 
 
 *'My name," she sighed, "is Edith Jane 
 Van Tromp de Duval Bates, sir; 
 
 And I am of the noblest strain 
 In these United States, sir. 
 
 "My father's sires in davs of old 
 
 Led armies forth to battle ; 
 My mother's kin had stores of gold 
 
 And lands and countless cattle. 
 
 "But cruel Time brought dark reverse. 
 
 Alas ! the sad confession ! 
 A claim against Columbia's purse 
 
 Is now my sole possession. 
 
92 MEDLEY. 
 
 ''To battle rode George Washington 
 Upon my grandsire's courser, 
 
 And when the victory was won 
 The courser was no more, sir. 
 
 "That faithful steed had borne our race 
 
 In saddle, chaise and pillion; 
 My father never saw his face, 
 
 But called him worth a million. 
 
 ^'And now, my gracious friend, display 
 
 The skill you oft have shown us ; 
 Bring in a noble claim, and pay 
 Your labors with a bonus. 
 
 ''Nor will I promise pelf alone; 
 
 This heart — my courage falters — 
 A woman's grateful heart shall throne 
 
 Your image on its altars." 
 
 John Boodle shed a manly tear 
 
 To see that lady's sorrow; 
 Then squeezed her hand, and said, "My dear, 
 
 I'll mount that horse to-morrow. 
 
 "I know my fellow congressmen 
 Will back a righteous measure ; 
 
 And now, my Edith Jane, — or then, — 
 Be thou my life-long treasure." 
 
 "She chided not, nor drew aside. 
 
 But leaned her drooping tresses 
 Against his heaving heart, and sighed, 
 "I'll pay you in caresses." 
 
TALES AND BALLADS. 93 
 
 So Boodle every wire did pull, 
 
 Rolled logs with all creation, 
 And piped our glorious Capitol 
 
 To push his legislation. 
 
 Another tax! another loan! 
 
 The syndicates made honey; 
 The people drained out, groan by groan, 
 
 John Boodle's darling's money. 
 
 Then Edith Jane de Duval Bates 
 
 Invited to her wedding 
 The lobbyists of all the states 
 
 That paid her plate and bedding. 
 
 They came and bowed; the nuptial knot 
 
 Was tied ; the time went cheery ; 
 And not a knave or fool or sot 
 
 But envied John his deary. 
 
 Till midnight, revel swelled apace ; 
 
 Till midnight, danced the lady. 
 But when the clock struck twelve, her face 
 
 Fell strangely weird and shady. 
 
 "Away ! away !" she wildly cried. 
 
 "No need of wedding coaches ! 
 One beast will carry groom and bride ; 
 
 And swiftly he approaches." 
 
 Then galloped creaking to the door 
 
 That steed of legislation 
 Who nobly died in days of yore 
 
 To rise and munch the nation. 
 
94 MEDLEY. 
 
 John Boodle scarcely caught his breath, 
 And pallid turned all faces, 
 
 To see that grinning horse of death 
 Curvet and show his paces. 
 
 The lady clapped an iron grip 
 Upon the bridegroom, saying, 
 
 "Away ! begin your wedding trip ! 
 The crisis grants no staying." 
 
 Oh, gladly had the Judge delayed 
 
 Another hour ! till supper ! 
 She mounted, beckoned; he obeyed. 
 
 And scrambled to the crupper. 
 
 One arm around his wife he threw, 
 Much longing for a saddle ; 
 
 And then away, away, they flew 
 As fast as Hell could straddle. 
 
 The bridal feasters howled with fright. 
 The bridegroom bellowed louder ; 
 
 But naught availed ; adown the night 
 He darted, quick as powder. 
 
 He clutched his frightful charger's bones 
 To save himself from falling, 
 
 And rode with many twists and groans. 
 For fearful was the mauling. 
 
 Between the yellow ribs, the air 
 Sucked rawly with a whistle ; 
 
 He looked behind, no' tail was there 
 Except a point of gristle. 
 
I 
 
 TALES AND BALLADS. 95 
 
 Grim riders joined them, fearful things, 
 
 Bent warlocks, withered witches, 
 Some scaling high on wilted wings, 
 
 Some shooting low on switches. 
 
 ''Hurrah ! hurrah !" the wizards bawled ; 
 
 ''Judge Boodle leads the rabble." 
 "Push on ! push on !" the witches squalled ; 
 
 ''What fun to see him scrabble!" 
 
 At last, afar, yet drawing nigh, 
 He spied that monstrous scorcher, 
 
 The lake of Eblis burning high. 
 The red abyss of torture. 
 
 He strove to coax, he strove to chide. 
 He clamored hoarse and hoarser; 
 
 But nothing recked his fearful bride. 
 And nothing checked his courser. 
 
 The steed became a shooting star. 
 
 The wife became a devil ; 
 And on they sped, the swiftest far 
 
 Of all the hell-bound revel. 
 
 He reached the lake, and leaped, and lit, 
 
 A flashing, ashing ember ! 
 No more in Washington may sit 
 
 And spout and steal our member. 
 
96 MEDLEY. 
 
 The Cannibal Conquest. 
 
 The king of the Cannibal Islands 
 
 Decided to conquer some drylands ; 
 
 So he marched over valleys and highlands 
 
 With twenty- four cannibal braves ; 
 
 With two dozen man-eating knaves, 
 
 All hungry as so many graves, 
 He skirmished through earthlands and skylands, 
 
 Defiant of weather and waves. 
 
 He came to Atlantis the Holy 
 
 Whose burghers were lamblike and lowly. 
 
 Though growing a touch roly-poly 
 
 And languid in fasting and prayers. 
 
 They fasted while sleeping, like bears, 
 
 And prayed without leaving their chairs, 
 And walked in the narrow way slowly, 
 
 Much cumbered with Beelzebub's wares. 
 
 Then followed a wonderful battle; 
 Good lack, how the cannons did rattle ! 
 The women, the children, the cattle 
 
 Took part in the desperate strife. 
 
 They carried the war to the knife ; 
 
 With slaughter Atlantis was rife ; 
 About it the muses will prattle 
 
 While Jupiter granteth them life. 
 
 The Cannibals came out the winners, 
 They made twenty-five hearty dinners. 
 They gobbled the saints and the sinners. 
 And put all Atlantis to sack. 
 
I 
 
 TALES AND BALLADS. 97 
 
 They spared neither yellow nor black, 
 The hungriest, greediest pack 
 Of robbers and pickers and skinners 
 That ever sent region to rack. 
 
 Henceforth they were chiefs of the nation 
 And lived by relief legislation ; 
 They served up a bill for collation 
 
 And fattened a law like a beast. 
 
 Their appetites daily increased ; 
 
 A lunch was a patent, at least, 
 While railroads and steam-navigation 
 
 Scarce furnished the joints for a feast. 
 
PALESTINA 
 
 L.ofC. 
 
PALESTINA 
 
 The Battle of the Kings. 
 
 Chedorlaomer of Elam, 
 
 The eldest of conquering kings, 
 Established a mighty empire 
 
 In the grey beginning of things ; 
 In the plain of the four great rivers 
 
 That come from fountains unknown, 
 In the paradise realm of Babel, 
 
 He set and established his throne. 
 
 Beside him thundered in battle, 
 
 And beside him reveled at feast. 
 Three monarchs who did him homage 
 
 For ancient domains in the east. 
 The king of the land of Shinar, 
 
 And the king of Ellasar's land. 
 And Tidal king of the tribesmen 
 
 Who wander the southern sand. 
 
 In the days of our father Abram 
 These four took counsel to smite 
 
 The citied vale of the Jordan 
 And the hills of the Amorite; 
 
I02 PALESTINA. 
 
 They gathered their tufted lances, 
 They gathered their crescent bows, 
 
 And quitted the templed valley 
 Where arrowy Hiddekel flows. 
 
 Athwart the mid-river desert 
 
 They spread their locust wings ; 
 Devouring the green oases 
 
 And drinking a-dry the springs; 
 Devouring the shepherd nomads 
 
 And the smiths who dwell in caves ; 
 Devouring the trains of merchants, 
 
 And leaving behind but graves. 
 
 The eastward border of Bashan 
 
 They harried with bow and spear; 
 They smote the giant Rephaim 
 
 And the Horite dwellers in Seir; 
 The Zuzim, sons of the giants, 
 
 And the Emim of Kiriathaim ; 
 Yea, all the valley of Jordan 
 
 They reddened with blood and flame. 
 
 So warring bitterly onward 
 
 And filling the earth with wail, 
 They came to the Dead Sea cities, 
 
 The towns of the bitumen vale. 
 The cities Gomorrah and Sodom, 
 
 Renowned in cycles of old 
 For music and dance and revel, 
 
 And for treasure of silver and gold. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE KINGS. IO3 
 
 Now Birsha, king of Gomorrah, 
 
 Held feast in his tower of pride 
 With Bera tyrant of Sodom 
 
 And many a chief beside; 
 The table sparkled, with goblets 
 
 Wrought by the Canaanite, 
 And the goblets bubbled over 
 
 With wine of amber light. 
 
 The dancers and dancing women, 
 
 With wantoning smile and glance, 
 Wound slowly adown the mazes 
 
 Of Ashteroth's wicked dance; 
 While harp and organ and cymbal 
 
 And dulcimer poured their glee. 
 For the sons of Jubal were cunning 
 
 In lands of the bitumen sea. 
 
 But right in the midst of the joyance 
 
 A whimpering reached the hall, 
 As though the city Gomorrah 
 
 Were wailing already its fall; 
 And heralds shouted to Birsha 
 
 That Kadesh was flaming high. 
 
 And that up from the southland desert 
 
 Chedorlaomer drew nigh. 
 
 * 
 
 Then leaped up Birsha and Bera 
 
 With faces like withered leaves. 
 Forsaking the brimming goblets. 
 
 The flesh of sheep and of beeves; 
 
104 PALESTINA. 
 
 They called for helmet and buckler, 
 For javelin, brand and bow. 
 
 And swiftly through scared Gomorrah 
 They hasted to meet the foe; 
 
 Commanding heralds to summon 
 
 Their allies, the king of Zoar, 
 And the kings of Zeboim and Admah, 
 
 Five kings to battle with four ; 
 Commanding also to rally 
 
 And marshal their native powers, 
 And to set the phalanx of battle 
 
 In front of Gomorrah's towers. 
 
 Thereon, in the vale of Siddim; 
 
 In the vale of the marvellous mere, 
 Where now the apples are ashes 
 
 And the birds soar high in fear ; 
 In the rich, hot Dead Sea valley 
 
 The clamor of war began. 
 The shock of nation with nation. 
 
 The wrestle of man with man. 
 
 Long wavered the balance even. 
 
 Four kings in battle with five; 
 For long did the brazen tempest 
 
 Both forward and backward drive; 
 For the men of the stranger peoples 
 
 Were valiant and trained to strife, 
 While the men of the Siddim cities 
 
 Were fighting for land and life. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE KINGS. IO5 
 
 At last the chief of the spoilers, 
 
 Chedorlaomer the strong, 
 Smote Birsha, king of Gomorj-ah, 
 
 With an arrow weighty and long, 
 That clove his glittering harness 
 
 And pierced his wicked heart, 
 On one side trembling the feather. 
 
 On one side gleaming the dart. 
 
 Thereon the sheikhs of the city. 
 
 Beholding their chieftain fall. 
 Tottered and tumbled asunder 
 
 Like stones of a battered wall; 
 While, smitten with menial terror. 
 
 The common herd turned to fly. 
 None fearing to stain his manhood. 
 
 But only fearing to die. 
 
 Then Tidal, king of the Nomads, 
 
 Led on his mingled breeds. 
 And parted the ranks of Sodom 
 
 As a lion parts Jordan's reeds; 
 The rush of his swarthy archers 
 
 Was like a hurricane's breath. 
 And the serpent hiss of their arrows 
 
 Fulfilled the noontide with death. 
 
 Back reeled the Sodomite bucklers. 
 
 King Shinab fell in his gore. 
 Back trembled the spear of Admah, 
 
 The sword of Zeboim and Zoar, 
 
:o6 PALESTINA. 
 
 Till, smitten at every footstep, 
 
 The men of the valley fled. 
 With ear turned over the shoulder 
 
 To hear the pursuer's tread. 
 
 The bitumen pits of Siddim 
 
 Were choked with wounded and slain. 
 And the yellow ripples of Jordan 
 
 Bore many a crimson stain. 
 Right through the gates of the cities 
 
 The torrent of battle roared. 
 And tower and temple and palace 
 
 Re-echoed the clank of the sword. 
 
 The carven and molten idols 
 
 Saved not their worshippers then, 
 And the heathen altars were dabbled 
 
 With the blood of heathenish men. 
 While hither and yon the spoilers 
 
 Ran, gathering wealth untold 
 Of armor and goodly garments 
 
 And graven silver and gold. 
 
 Then perished the wise in counsel, 
 
 And perished the strong in war, 
 While the youths and maidens were herded 
 
 And driven to serve afar; 
 Yea, only a feeble remnant 
 
 A remnant goaded and pressed, 
 Escaped to the arid mountains 
 
 That shadowed the sunset west. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE KINGS. lO/ 
 
 Now Lot, the nephew of Abram, 
 
 With sheep and cattle in store, 
 Wide feeding from mount to river, 
 
 Abode in the Siddim Ghor; 
 In peace abode and in plenty 
 
 Till El should punish his sin 
 Of strife with our father Abram, 
 
 The chief of his clan and kin. 
 
 The patriarch's beard was lifted 
 
 In prayer and his knees were bent, 
 When the camel-riders of Tidal 
 
 Drew halter before his tent. 
 And leaned on their spears, awe-stricken. 
 
 Believing him half divine. 
 So august he seemed and holy, 
 
 And so did his countenance shine. 
 
 He knelt, but not to the foeman; 
 
 He rose, but drew not his sword. 
 His soul was bowed in contrition: — 
 
 How should he strive with the Lord ? 
 Then Tidal, kissing his forehead. 
 
 Said, "Follow, O prophet and priest; 
 And thou shalt serve at the altars 
 
 Of Bel in the templed east." 
 
 So gently the spoilers guided 
 
 The chief and his daughters twain. 
 
 His herders and flocks and cattle. 
 In honor along the plain ; 
 
I08 PALESTINA. 
 
 In honor and fear they led him, 
 Yet suffered him not to go, 
 
 For El had blinded their spirits . 
 In order to work them woe. 
 
 Now messengers came to Abram, 
 
 Who held his pasture and fold 
 In the country of hoary Hebron, 
 
 By Hittites builded of old ; 
 With garments rent and with weeping 
 
 They told how a stranger band 
 Was bearing Lot and his people 
 
 To Bel Merodach's land. 
 
 Then bowed the reverend ancient. 
 
 He bowed and prayed in grief, 
 "Now help us. El of the Hebrews ; 
 
 Now guide us and be our chief. 
 Our foes are many and mighty; 
 
 They deafen the earth with boasts : 
 But thou canst give us the battle. 
 
 For thou art the Lord of Hosts." 
 
 This said, his glittering falchion 
 
 He girded on, and then 
 Led eastward his valiant herders. 
 
 Three hundred and eighteen men. 
 With Aner and Eshcol and Mamre, 
 
 Three clans of the Amorite, 
 Who banded with him in vengeance 
 
 For kinsmen slain in fight. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE KINGS. lOQ 
 
 They passed the hilltop of Jebus, 
 
 Where Zion now lifts her wall ; 
 They passed the mount of Gilboa 
 
 (Since red with the blood of Saul) ; 
 They entered the vale of Jordan 
 
 And forded the arrowy tide ; 
 At last, in the skirts of Haran 
 
 The foeman's camp they spied. 
 
 Its countless fires of feasting 
 
 Flaunted an insolent glare, 
 And a clamor of drunken revel 
 
 Blasphemed through the twilit air, 
 The babble of heathen thousands 
 
 Who jeered at the captive's moan. 
 And scoffed at the God of Abram, 
 
 And vaunted their idols of stone. 
 
 Then said the chief of the Hebrews, 
 
 ''God giveth them into our hand. 
 Divide ye quickly, my children. 
 
 Each ancient leading his band. 
 Lie close till the fires are feeble ; 
 
 Then circle the Elamite horde. 
 Await my summoning trumpet; 
 
 Then strike in the might of the Lord." 
 
 In the thickest of night the signal 
 
 Of Abram shattered the gloom ; 
 It roared through the plain like a lion, 
 
 It scared like the trumpet of doom ; 
 
lO PALESTINA. 
 
 While forward the ambushers bounded 
 Like hunters who close on the prey, 
 
 And sought the throats of the heathen, 
 And slew till the breaking of day. 
 
 Full many the sleepers who perished 
 
 Or ever they opened the eye, 
 Or wakened to gaze on the slayer 
 
 One terrible moment, and die. 
 Oh, mighty and swift was the slaughter 
 
 It ran and consumed like a flame. 
 The corpses were piled upon corpses 
 
 Wherever the ambushers came. 
 
 And direr yet was the horror 
 
 When the rabble of pagans rose. 
 Drowsy and stumbling and groping. 
 
 To battle with unseen foes ; 
 For comrade wrestled with comrade 
 
 And people with people strove, 
 While everywhither, at random. 
 
 The arrows of Tidal drove. 
 
 In vain the shouting of captains. 
 
 The scream of trumpets in vain ; 
 In vain the kings of the nations 
 
 Clamored and beckoned amain; 
 For the very princes and nobles 
 
 Recked not of banner or crown. 
 And the soldiers, maddened with panic, 
 
 Went beating each other down. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE KINGS. I I I 
 
 Yea, even the glow of morning- 
 Redoubled the crazed affright; 
 
 Xo fugitive turned to chasten 
 
 The handful that gored the flight ; 
 
 The stricken host of the aliens 
 
 Dissolved and vanished like dew, 
 
 While fiercely our father Abram 
 Pursued, made captive and slew. 
 
 Past snowy Hermon he chased them 
 
 To Hobah, beyond the plain 
 Where ancient Damascus glitters 
 
 'Mid olives and figs and grain. 
 He gathered the beeves and camels 
 
 That the archers of Tidal drave, 
 And dried the tears of the orphan, 
 
 And brake the bonds of the slave. 
 
 But, gladdest of all his triumphs. 
 
 He rescued his brother's son. 
 His daughters and herders and cattle, 
 
 Not lacking a single one. 
 How beautiful were the kinsmen, 
 
 How princely in mien and face, 
 \Mien, weeping, they kissed each other, 
 
 And honored El for his grace ! 
 
 So Abram returned in glory 
 
 The hero of Jordan's land. 
 While shoutings of grateful peoples 
 
 Resounded on every hand; 
 
112 PALESTINA. 
 
 Wherever he fared, the elders 
 Of cities brought corn and wine, 
 
 Bowing their heads and revering 
 The savior of Palestine. 
 
 And when to the hill of Hebron 
 
 His lordly journey drew nigh, 
 Melchizedec, monarch of Salem, 
 
 The priest of the Great Most High, 
 Came forth to meet him and greet him 
 
 With holy hands lifted in praise. 
 Came forth to caress him, and bless him 
 
 In the name of the Ancient of Days. 
 
 Joseph. 
 
 Superb in viceregal habiliments. 
 With Pharaoh's ring on his hand, 
 
 He stood in the chamber of porphyry, 
 The chief of the land. 
 
 Sedate, like a king, and yet tenderly 
 He gazed in the wanderers' eyes. 
 
 While meekly they bended and timidly 
 Looked up in surprise. 
 
 His father, the pastures of Palestine, 
 The gladness of infancy's years. 
 
 Arose on his vision, and suddenly 
 He melted in tears. 
 
DELILAH. 113 
 
 ^'Behold me, the darling of Israel!" 
 He cried. ''Doth my father yet live? 
 
 Mourn not that ye sold me in slavery. 
 God rules. I forgive." 
 
 Delilah. 
 
 The lady of Sorek, Delilah, 
 
 AVas winsome and gladsome as day ; 
 She smiled on the son of Manoah 
 
 And lured him to tread in her way ; 
 Her kisses were sweeter than honey, 
 
 And she could betray. 
 
 She flattered the hero; she pleaded, 
 "Now tell me where lieth thy might." 
 
 He told her. She lulled him to slumber. 
 And shredded his hair in the night. 
 
 She opened the gate to her kinsmen, 
 And murmured, "Now smite !" 
 
 O daughter of aliens and strangers. 
 What child of Jehovah may stand 
 
 Who joys in the light of your glances 
 And loveth the touch of your hand ! 
 
 His glory and gladness shall tumble 
 Like houses on sand. 
 
114 PALESTINA. 
 
 GiLBOA. 
 
 When Saul was king of Hebrews- 
 Alas, the heedless king! — 
 
 Our land was full of sorrows, 
 Our strength a feeble thing; 
 
 For Saul, the false and fickle. 
 Forgot the Lord's command 
 
 To hold in hate the heathen 
 
 And drive them from the land. 
 
 He spared the life of Agag, 
 
 Who ravaged Israel's coasts; 
 The sons of cruel Edom 
 
 Were captains in his hosts; 
 The bands of thievish Amalek 
 
 Bare Ephraim's lance and shield 
 Yea, many were the aliens 
 
 Who marched with him afield. 
 
 Because of this his kingdom 
 
 Was rent with grievous ills; 
 The hordes of gentiles ravaged 
 
 Our fruitful vales and hills ; 
 They stripped us and disarmed us 
 
 From Jordan to the mere ; 
 Yea, scarce a man in Canaan 
 
 Had buckler, brand, or spear. 
 
 In all those days of battle 
 
 The fiercest of our foes 
 Were they who held the seacoast 
 
 That south to Egypt goes. 
 
GILBOA. 115 
 
 The pale and tall Philistim 
 
 Who came from Japheth's isles, 
 
 The men of brazen armor 
 
 Who charg-ed in ordered files. 
 
 t>' 
 
 O princes of Philistia, 
 
 How often have ye shed 
 The lifeblood of our warriors 
 
 And robbed our babes of bread ! 
 How often have ye herded 
 
 Our gracious youths for slaves, 
 And sold our tender maidens 
 
 Beyond the sunset waves ! 
 
 And now again ye gather 
 
 To slaughter us like sheep; 
 Your tents are pitched in Shunem 
 
 Before Gilboa's steep; 
 Ye lift your gleaming bucklers 
 
 Against a naked swarm ; 
 And Israel sees, affrighted, 
 
 Your serried phalanx form. 
 
 Yea, mighty was the terror 
 
 That shook our brothers' souls; 
 They lurked within Gilboa 
 
 Like foxes in their holes ; 
 The hireling braves of Amalek 
 
 And Edom ceased to boast. 
 And even war-worn Abner 
 
 Was whiter than a ghost. 
 
I I 6 PALESTINA. 
 
 In vain our noble princes, 
 
 The warrior sons of Saul, 
 Went forth with smiling faces 
 
 And cheerly spake to all ; 
 In vain the valiant Jonathan, 
 
 The kingliest of the three. 
 Said, ''God hath often helped us; 
 
 So wherefore should we flee?" 
 
 No man of those who listened 
 
 Could muster heart of hope; 
 All eyes were set in anguish 
 
 On Shunem's brazen slope; 
 We heard across the valley 
 
 The foe's defiant cheer; 
 We saw, we heard, nor ever stirred 
 
 The livelong day for fear. 
 
 Yea, none would leave the mountain 
 
 Except the light-armed men ; 
 And they set on but shyly, 
 
 And quickly turned agen. 
 Our slingers lurked in coverts 
 
 And cast with feeble throw. 
 While boldly shot the archers 
 
 Who drew the Cretan bow. 
 
 So passed a day of waiting 
 
 While each surveyed the field. 
 
 The foe secure of triumph. 
 Our hearts prepared to yield ; 
 
GILBOA. 1 17 
 
 So passed a day of skirmish, 
 And when the sun went down, 
 
 No heart, I think, was sadder 
 Than his who wore the crown. 
 
 He sought a lonely thicket ; 
 
 He bowed his head to earth. 
 "O El !" he prayed, "O Yahveh, 
 
 Who gave the Hebrews birth ! 
 O Mighty One of Jacob 
 
 Who brought us from Misraim! 
 Adoniah of battles, 
 
 I call upon Thy name ! 
 
 "Thou heedest not our altars, 
 
 Though rich with fat and gore; 
 Thine oracles are silent, 
 
 Thy prophets speak no more; 
 And now thou helpest aliens 
 
 To drive us from our place. 
 O Yahveh of the Hebrews, 
 
 Why hidest thou thy face? 
 
 ''Once more upon thy people 
 
 Let all thy mercies shine; 
 Send down some helping angel, 
 
 Accord some gracious sign; 
 Fulfill our hearts with valiance, 
 
 Strike dumb the heathens' boasts; 
 And when we smite for Israel, 
 
 Be there, O Lord of Hosts !" 
 
I I O PALESTINA. 
 
 He prayed ; but naught responded ; 
 
 No seraph flew anear; 
 No brightness shone of Urim ; 
 
 No prophet brought him cheer; I 
 
 And when he sank in slumber f 
 
 God sent him dreams abhorred : : 
 
 He woke and cried in anguish, : 
 
 "I cannot find the Lord." 
 
 He rose; he changed his vesture; 
 
 He laid his crown aside ; 
 He called his heathen henchmen, 
 
 And through the night he hied. 
 "I go to seek the wizards," 
 
 He muttered, mad with grief; 
 "There was a God in Shiloh,' 
 
 But he is dead or deaf." 
 
 He rode; he came to Endor, 
 
 Where dwelt a withered crone 
 Who ruled familiar demons 
 
 And showed the things unknown, — 
 An evil crone who worshipped 
 
 The gods of olden days 
 When giants reared the temples 
 
 Ye find in desert ways."^' 
 
 The sky was hung with blackness, 
 
 No aster pierced the night; 
 Yet far away her cabin 
 
 Revealed a spectral light, — 
 
 * Dolmens, menhirs and stone circles still exist in Palestine, 
 especially in Gilead and Bashan. 
 
GILBOA. 119 
 
 A light like that which glimmers 
 From wood of mouldered trees, 
 
 A light like that which chases 
 The galley through the seas. 
 
 He won the door and entered, 
 
 Yet found no taper there, 
 Nor ever knew what lustre 
 
 It was that rayed the air. 
 He stood with covered visage: 
 
 The beldame rose in dread. 
 "'Why comest thou?" she queried. 
 
 "On thee be peace !" he said. 
 
 ''Fear not, O cunning woman. 
 
 No man shall do thee harm. 
 I come to seek the spirits 
 
 Thou knowest how to charm. 
 Now use thy divinations, 
 
 However weird they be. 
 And summon him from Sheol 
 
 Whom I shall name to thee." 
 
 She answered, "Lo, thou kennest 
 
 What Saul the king hath done. 
 How he hath slain my brethren, 
 
 The wizards, every one. 
 Of all who loved ^he demons 
 
 No creature lives but I. 
 Now wherefore dost thou purpose 
 
 A snare to make me die?" 
 
I20 PALESTINA. 
 
 "As El of Israel liveth," 
 
 Replied the woful king, 
 No hurt shall come upon thee 
 
 For this or anything. 
 Now therefore speak the syllables 
 
 That even death can hear, 
 And call the awful spirit 
 
 Of Samuel, the Seer." 
 
 Her evil spells she muttered. 
 
 She wrought her magic might; 
 Then suddenly she uttered 
 
 A cry of great affright. 
 "Why seekest thou," she clamored, 
 
 "To lure me to my fall ? 
 No common mortal art thou. 
 
 I know thee; thou art Saul." — 
 
 "Be not afraid," he bade her; 
 
 "What thing beholdest thou?" — 
 "I see the gods ascending 
 
 From earth," she said. "And now 
 I see behind them follow 
 
 An elder bent with years. 
 Whose mantle hides his visage, 
 
 As is the wont of seers." 
 
 Then quickly bowed •the monarch. 
 He bowed upon his face, 
 . For well he knew the prophet. 
 
 And much he craved his grace. 
 
GILBOA. 121 
 
 Alas, the king of sorrows! 
 
 How bitter was his dole 
 When sternly said the awful dead, 
 
 ''Why troublest thou my soul?'' 
 
 "Forgive me, O my father!" 
 
 Returned the stricken chief. 
 "The grave's repose is sacred, 
 
 But sacred too is grief. 
 I dared to vex thy slumber 
 
 Because our need is sore, 
 For Israel's foes are mighty 
 
 And Yahveh helps no more. 
 
 "The legions of Philistim 
 
 Have gathered like a flood; 
 To-morrow morn the battle 
 
 Will roll its robes in blood; 
 Our breasts are bare of harness. 
 
 Our bravest are dismayed, 
 And Jacob's stem will perish 
 
 Unless the Lord shall aid. 
 
 'Tn vain I seek his visage. 
 
 In vain my altars rise; 
 He answers not by Urim, 
 
 Nor dreams, nor prophesies; 
 Wherefore, thou mighty phantom, 
 
 I dare to break thy sleep, 
 And ask how Ephraim's shepherd 
 
 May save his feeble sheep." 
 
1 22 PALESTINA. 
 
 Then said the seer of Sheol, 
 
 "Why comest thou to me? 
 If God refuse his guidance, 
 
 What guidance can there be? 
 Behold the Lord performeth 
 
 According to his word; 
 The armies of the heathen 
 
 Are but Jehovah's sword. 
 
 ''Go forth to fight and perish! 
 
 Death calls the mighty ones; 
 Yea, where I am thou comest. 
 
 To-morrow, with thy sons. 
 Thy princes and thy captains 
 
 And all the Hebrew band; 
 For El will help Philistia, 
 
 And none can stay His hand." 
 
 Thus spake the bodeful phantom. 
 
 And vanished into space. 
 While, crushed with grief, the fated chief 
 
 Fell fainting on his face. 
 What king had ever sorrow 
 
 So terrible as Saul, 
 Foredoomed to lose his people. 
 
 His crown, his sons, his all? 
 
 Alas! his swooning passes; 
 
 Its mercy may not stay; 
 He rises, mounts his courser 
 
 And swiftly rides away. 
 
GILBOA. 123 
 
 He goes to death, yet hastens 
 Without a halt or moan; 
 
 He speeds to fall with Israel, 
 His children and his throne. 
 
 Gilboa glowed with sunrise 
 
 When battle climbed its height; 
 On spear and shield and corselet 
 
 Fell sweet the morning light. 
 How splendid were the warriors 
 
 Who charged the Hebrew hold! 
 Yea, glorious was Philistia 
 
 With brass and steel and gold. 
 
 From rock to thicket clamber 
 
 The lurking Cherethites; 
 Their feathered arrows whistle 
 
 In swift and deadly flights; 
 From covert on to covert 
 
 The cunning archers win, 
 And slowly drive before them 
 
 The slings of Benjamin. 
 
 Behind, the spearmen follow 
 
 In deep and steady ranks; 
 Their pikes are dense as thickets 
 
 Of reeds on Jordan's banks; 
 Their shields are locked together 
 
 In straight and burnished walls, 
 And all their feet keep even beat 
 
 To ringing trumpet-calls. 
 
124 PALESTINA. 
 
 What could the sons of Jacob, 
 
 What could their fragile darts, 
 Their feeble wicker bucklers, 
 
 Their naked limbs and hearts. 
 Against Philistia's cohorts. 
 
 Complete in brazen gear. 
 Who pushed with comrade shoulders 
 
 The long and weighty spear? 
 
 In vain they hurled the javelin, 
 
 In vain they swung the brand. 
 Or crept within the pike-points 
 
 To struggle hand to hand. 
 The shield repelled the missile. 
 
 The helmet turned the sword; 
 And all the while each thickened file 
 
 Of spearmen thrust and gored. 
 
 On throve the panting phalanx, 
 
 With slow and toilsome tread; 
 But every forward footstep 
 
 Bestrode the mangled dead. 
 Down went the best and foremost 
 
 Of Ephraim's mighty ones; 
 Right in the front of battle 
 
 Died Saul's great-hearted sons. 
 
 Still sounding high his battle-cry. 
 Still lifting glaive to strike, 
 
 The good and valiant Jonathan 
 Received the heathen pike; 
 
GILBOA. 125 
 
 And striving hard to rescue 
 
 His body from the foe, 
 His youthful brothers perished, 
 
 Returning blow for blow. 
 
 Afar, their father knew not 
 
 That they had sunk to rest; 
 He led his lordly household 
 
 Against Philistia's best; 
 Except the ranks of foemen 
 
 He saw not anything; 
 His royal brazen trumpet 
 
 Made all the mountain ring: 
 ''And if I die," he shouted, 
 
 "At least I die a king!" 
 
 At last one sped and told him 
 
 His darling ones were slain. 
 *'Now death," he said, "is welcome. 
 
 O Hebrews, charge again !" 
 But vain his call for vengeance, 
 
 And vain his eager steel ; 
 Down go his first and bravest. 
 
 And back their comrades reel. 
 
 Back, fighting, bleeding, dying. 
 
 The Hebrews reeled in rout. 
 While forward strove the heathen 
 
 With stern, exulting shout. 
 All over Mount Gilboa 
 
 The greaved Achaean slew ; 
 All over Mount Gilboa 
 
 The Cretan arrow flew. 
 
26 PALESTINA. 
 
 Sore hampered by the tumult 
 
 Of bloody flight and chase, 
 The woful king of Israel 
 
 Drew back a little space; 
 Retired, yet often halted, 
 
 Unwilling yet to yield. 
 Though none remained to help him 
 
 But him who bare his shield. 
 
 Hard after him the archers 
 
 Pursued with twanging bow ; 
 In vain he whirled his falchion 
 
 And laid the boldest low ; 
 They rallied and they volleyed. 
 
 They beat upon him sore ; 
 And soon his burnished armor 
 
 Was dimmed with trickling gore. 
 
 So, seeing that his battle 
 
 Was drawing to its end. 
 He called to him who followed, 
 
 ''Come hither, faithful friend ! 
 Prevent the heathens' boasting; 
 
 Prevent their bow and spear. 
 Strike quickly! Strike and slay me 
 
 Before they draw anear !" 
 
 "Nay," wept the loyal servitor ; 
 
 *T cannot smite my lord." — 
 Then bared the king his bosom. 
 
 And fell upon his sword; 
 
GILBOA. 127 
 
 Nor deigned the armor-bearer 
 To draw one further breath ; 
 
 And there PhiHstia found them, 
 Secure and grand in death. 
 
 Ye mountains of Gilboa, 
 
 Let neither rain nor dew 
 Bedeck your lofty places 
 
 Nor tint your dells anew ; 
 For there the blood of heroes 
 
 Was trampled intO' clay, 
 The buckler of the mighty 
 
 Was vilely cast away. 
 
 The beauteous ones of Israel 
 
 Are slain upon your heights. 
 How are the lofty fallen. 
 
 The chiefs of many fights ! 
 Oh, tell it not in Askelon ! 
 
 From Gath withold the voice ! 
 Lest Dagon's prophets triumph 
 
 And Dagon's maids rejoice. 
 
 Weep, daughters of the Hebrews, 
 
 For Saul, the gracious king. 
 Who decked you fair with scarlet 
 
 And golden chain and ring! 
 For him and for his princes. 
 
 The eagles of our pride, 
 Who lived in lovely concord 
 
 And undivided died ! 
 
THE PASTOR 
 
The Pastor. 
 
 The Vision. 
 
 In thoughts of the visions of night, 
 When slumber possessed me, 
 
 My spirit was seized with affright 
 And horrors oppressed me. 
 
 A phantom appeared to my eyes, 
 
 A vapor of error; 
 I could not discover its guise, 
 
 I saw but a terror. 
 
 The darkness with silence was shod ; 
 
 A voice queried lowly : 
 "Shall mortals be juster than God? 
 
 More pure than the Holy? 
 
 *Tn angels He putteth no trust, 
 Thev tremble before Him ; 
 
 How then may the creatures of dust 
 Approach to implore Him? 
 
 "They vanish from morning to eve, 
 
 They perish like stubble ; 
 And none who regardeth will grieve, 
 
 Or succor their trouble. 
 
132 PALESTINA. 
 
 "Their excellence fadeth to naught, 
 Their gladness to sorrow ; 
 
 And even the wisdom they taught 
 Lasts not till the morrow." 
 
 The Despondent. 
 
 My days are swifter than a steed; 
 They find no joy and flee away, 
 Like eagles hasting to the prey. 
 
 Or galleys winged with stormy speed. 
 
 I would that I had died in birth. 
 That I had fallen unto death, 
 Before I learned to love my breath. 
 
 Or tasted one delight of earth. 
 
 I should have been as one unborn ; 
 
 I should have flyted to the tomb, 
 
 Unheeding of my early doom 
 As any moth of summer morn. 
 
 Are not my days a feeble few? 
 
 Cease then from troubling ! Stand apart, 
 And let me take some little heart 
 
 Before I sink beyond the view ; 
 
 Before I go to sombre lands 
 
 Where blindness sits ; to lands of night. 
 Where darkness is the only light, 
 
 And Sheol lifts obscuring hands. 
 
THE PASTOR. I 33 
 
 The Human. 
 
 His days are few and full of woe : 
 
 He springs and burgeons like a flower : 
 The sickle finds him ere an hour: 
 
 He goeth as the shadows go. 
 
 The flower may win a second birth : 
 
 But man is dead and vanisheth : 
 
 He sighs away his feeble breath, 
 And who can find him on the earth? 
 
 His children grow to power and fame; 
 They fall to grievous want and sin: 
 He sleeps his narrow grave within, 
 
 Nor cares for all their grace or shame. 
 
 He sinks to rest and will not rise : 
 
 The firmament shall pass away; 
 
 But still he sleeps in calm decay, 
 And none can make him lift his eyes. 
 
 Oh, that thou mightest hide me fast. 
 Conceal me, fold me safe in gloom. 
 Yea, draw the curtains of my tomb. 
 
 Until thy judgments hasten past! 
 
134 PALESTINA. 
 
 The Redeemer. 
 
 Have pity on me, O my friends ! 
 
 A mighty hand hath touched me sore. 
 
 Why should ye chasten more and more 
 A man whose sorrow never ends? 
 
 Ye sit upon the judgment seat; 
 As gods ye judge and persecute: 
 And I, shall I be meek and mute, 
 
 Like one whose pulse hath ceased to beat ? 
 
 I would that all my words were writ 
 On graven rock or lettered page, 
 That they might last from age to age, 
 
 And men might read them every whit. 
 
 I know that my Redeemer bides ; 
 I know that in the latter days 
 His feet shall stand in earthly ways 
 
 And search the glooms where sorrow hides. 
 
 Yea, though I sleep beneath the sod, 
 
 Though worms destroy this strength and bloom, 
 Yet I shall part the shrouding tomb. 
 
 And see my Savior, see my God ; 
 
 Shall see him for myself alone, 
 
 And not with eyes of other men ; 
 
 Shall look upon His glory when 
 He lifts me to His gracious throne. 
 
f 
 
 THE PASTOR. 135 
 
 The Fall of the Evil. 
 
 The evil grow to wealth and might; 
 Their kindred prosper in their sight ; 
 Their sons inherit long delight. 
 
 Their tables groan with costly cheer ; 
 Their hearts are fenced away from fear; 
 God toucheth not their plenteous gear. 
 
 They take the timbrel, pipe and lyre; 
 Their voices rise in gladsome choir; 
 The children dance before the sire. 
 
 They say to God, "Depart ! away ! 
 We hate thy way and flout thy sway. 
 What profits us to fast and pray ?" 
 
 They love the law of carnal sense; 
 They spend their days in opulence; 
 Then eftersoon they vanish hence. 
 
 They cannot keep their faces hale. 
 Nor bear their wealth beyond the veil. 
 But fly like chaff before the gale. 
 
 In vain ye seek their dwelling place. 
 The lofty towers, the halls of grace, 
 The mansions of the princely race. 
 
 Long since they vanished from the spot; 
 
 Their very glory is forgot; 
 
 Men answer back, "We know them not." 
 
136 PALESTINA. 
 
 The Divine. 
 
 On dizzy altitudes he stands ; 
 Dominions glitter in His hands ; 
 His terrors march in awful bands. 
 
 Who knoweth how to count His hosts ? 
 His mornings shine on all the coasts ; 
 His glances pierce the realm of ghosts. 
 
 He looks upon the moon as dim ; 
 In vain the starry oceans brim; 
 They seem but darkling voids to Him. 
 
 How then should man, the child of dust, 
 Lift Edenward a brow of trust 
 Or vaunt himself as pure and just? 
 
 His worth is vile, his strength infirm; 
 He carries death within the germ ; 
 Behold, he seemeth but a worm. 
 
THE BARD 
 
The Bard. 
 The Gracious. 
 
 O Name all names excelling! 
 
 Jehovah ! secret name ! 
 Thou hast Thy wondrous dwelling 
 
 Above the midday flame. 
 
 When I behold Thy wonders, 
 The marvels of Thy hands, 
 
 The temple of Thy thunders. 
 The moon and starry bands, 
 
 Lo, what is man, the human. 
 
 That Thou dost grant him grace? 
 
 Yea, man the son of woman. 
 
 That Thou dost turn Thy face? 
 
 Yet Thou hast made him master 
 Of air and earth and sea. 
 
 And crowned his head with lustre, 
 Viceregal under Thee. 
 
 In honor and in station 
 Scarce less than seraphim, 
 
 He ruleth Thy creation 
 Because Thou lovest him. 
 
 O God all gods excelling, 
 How vast Thy mercies are ! 
 
 Thy power is past all telling. 
 Thy grace is greater far. 
 
I40 PALESTINA. 
 
 The Deliverer. 
 
 How long wilt Thou forget me, 
 
 My Lord? Forever? 
 How long shall woes beset me, 
 
 And spare me never? 
 
 Alas, Thy face is hidden, 
 
 King immortal ! 
 
 I stand and knock, forbidden 
 To pass Thy portal. 
 
 My soul is clothed in sadness ; 
 
 1 perish daily ; 
 
 My foes are crowned with gladness, 
 And jeer me gaily. 
 
 Behold, my footsteps totter 
 
 Without foundation; 
 I walk like one on water, 
 
 Nor find salvation. 
 
 Consider now and hear me, 
 
 Mighty! Cherish 
 
 My fainting life, and cheer me. 
 Lest I should perish. 
 
 O gracious one, my Savior, 
 
 1 will not quiver. 
 
 Nor swerve, nor change behavior. 
 But serve Thee ever. 
 
THE BARD. I4I 
 
 The Protector.. 
 
 God bring thee out of harm, 
 And God be Thy defender ! 
 
 God show thee that His arm 
 Is strong and also tender ! 
 
 He sees thine altar fire, 
 
 Thy gift, thine offered treasure, 
 And grants thee thy desire. 
 
 Fulfilled beyond thy measure. 
 
 Rejoice, O friends, in Him 
 
 Who breaks the bands of sadness 
 
 Let all your banners swim 
 
 Above your mounts of gladness. 
 
 I know that God alone 
 
 Can rescue them that perish ; 
 
 He bendeth from His throne 
 To seek, to save, to cherish. 
 
 Trust not in spear and glaive. 
 Nor courser shod with terror. 
 
 For steeds are vain to save. 
 And battles reel in error. 
 
 Our savior is the Lord 
 
 Who rides upon the thunder ; 
 
 And when He lifts his sword 
 The nations fall asunder. 
 
142 PALESTINA. 
 
 The Avenger. 
 
 Make haste, my King, to deliver; 
 
 Make haste to aid me, my Lord; 
 Confound and scatter and shiver 
 
 All those who hold me abhorred ; 
 
 All those who weary my soul. 
 
 Who chase me with bow and quiver 
 
 Confound their evil endeavor 
 And bring them to dole. 
 
 Yea, those who grin and who chatter. 
 Who follow with scofiing and leer, 
 
 Disperse them, O Helper, and scatter. 
 Confound and fill them with fear ! 
 
 But those who seek Thee in sadness. 
 Who wait for thy coming, in grief. 
 
 Make haste, O Giver of gladness, 
 To grant them relief. 
 
 Be swift to aid me, my Lord; 
 
 Be swift, O Strong, to deliver; 
 I hold, I cling, to thy word, 
 
 And trust Thee forever. 
 
 The Splendor of Jehovah. 
 
 Jehovah reigns ! 
 
 O earth, bloom forth in smiles ; 
 Be glad, ye rivers, hills and plains; 
 
 Rejoice, O multitude of isles ! 
 
THE BARD. 1 43 
 
 He reigns alone, 
 
 Around Him folding clouds and night; 
 The dwelling-places of His throne 
 
 Are justice and eternal right. 
 
 Before Him runs a fire 
 
 That burnetii up his foes ; 
 
 His lightning through creation goes, 
 And earth recoils before his ire; 
 
 Yea, hills and mountains melt apace 
 
 Beneath the splendor of His face. 
 
 The heavens declare His holiness; 
 
 The nations see His glory shine; 
 The heathen bow in humbleness ; 
 
 The gods of every alien shrine 
 
 Acknovvdedge Him divine. 
 
 Jerusalem makes mirth ; 
 
 Her daughters sing in sweet accord 
 
 Because Thou comest, Lord, 
 To judge the earth. 
 
 For high above the world art Thou, 
 Yea, high above the skies 
 And greater than the graven lies 
 
 Whereto the heathen bow\ 
 
 O ye who love His name, 
 
 I pray you hate all sinfulness ; 
 
 So shall He guard when foemen press, 
 And save your souls from flame. 
 
144 PALESTINA. 
 
 The righteous walk in fields of light, 
 In pastures lit by dazzling suns; 
 
 Yea, wondrous beams of glory smite 
 The ways of upright ones. 
 
 O spirits pure and lowly, 
 
 Rejoice! make jubilee! 
 
 For Yahveh giveth you to see 
 How great He is and holy. 
 
 The Unchangeable. 
 
 My heart is smitten very sore, 
 
 My soul is withered like the grass, 
 My days like driven vapor pass. 
 
 Or bubbles breaking 'gainst the shore. 
 
 I wander with the desert birds, 
 I bide among the owls of night. 
 While sons of evil brave the light 
 
 And deafen earth with haughty words. 
 
 Because of Thee my drink is tears, 
 And ashes are my daily bread — 
 Because Thine anger flameth red 
 
 Against the sins that mark my years. 
 
 But Thou wilt turn again to save 
 The children of Thy holy hill ; 
 And all the cruel Sires of ill 
 
 Shall cringe before thy shining glaive. 
 
THE BARD. 1 45 
 
 Thy glances pierce the morning's breath ; 
 Thou bendest from Thine azure throne 
 To hear the captive's whispered moan 
 
 And free the spirits led to death. 
 
 Of old, beyond our feeble thought, 
 Before the ages came to be, 
 Thy fingers made the earth and sea. 
 
 Thy hand the astral spaces wrought. 
 
 Lo these, the wonders of thy power. 
 Shall fall like garments tO' decay; 
 Their stateliness shall pass away, 
 
 And Thou shalt change them in an hour. 
 
 But Thou, O Father, art the same; 
 
 Thy wondrous, dazzling years endure; 
 
 And they shall stand rejoiced, secure, 
 Who love the beauty of Thy Name. 
 
 The Merciful. 
 
 I will extol Thee, O my King, 
 
 Forever with uplifted face; 
 
 Forever magnify Thy grace. 
 While harp can sound or voice can sing. 
 
 Thy works adore Thee, stars and suns. 
 The stable earth, the flying storms. 
 The broods unborn, the living swarms, 
 
 The multitude of sainted ones. 
 
146 PALESTINA. 
 
 We fall ; we grovel in the dust ; 
 
 Because of sin we cannot stand ; 
 
 Yet dost Thou reach a loving hand, 
 As though our sorrow made us just. 
 
 The eyes of all look up to Thee : 
 Because we hunger we are fed : 
 And if Thou gavest not Thy bread, 
 
 How soon our life would cease to be ! 
 
 But chiefly those who seek Thy throne 
 Discover that Thy love is sweet: 
 They never walk with stumbling feet ; 
 
 They never walk, O Lord, alone. 
 
 Adoration. 
 
 Ye broods of deserts, isles and wildernesses, 
 
 Ye monsters of the den. 
 Ye gentle flocks and herds whose tribute blesses 
 
 The toil of men; 
 
 Ye finny habitants of rills and fountains. 
 
 Ye songsters of the breeze. 
 Ye vales, ye oaken hills, ye cedarn mountains. 
 
 Ye fruitage trees ; 
 
 I bid ye praise the Maker who upbuilded 
 
 Creation's wondrous frame. 
 Who jewelled night with galaxies, and gilded 
 
 The sun with flame. 
 
THE BARD. I47 
 
 Ye also, sons of Adam, all ye nations 
 
 Of regions far and nigh, 
 Exalt your antiphon, of adorations 
 
 To God most high. 
 
 Let all adore, the monarch robed in splendor. 
 
 The sage with hoary hair. 
 The mighty man of war, the stripling tender, 
 
 The maiden fair; 
 
 Ungovernable tempests, fierce commotions. 
 
 Of fire and sleet and foam; 
 Abysses, awful deeps, mysterious oceans 
 
 Where dragons roam; 
 
 O azure-tinted firmament of waters, 
 
 Of thunder, v/ind and fire; 
 O sun and moon, O starry sons and daughters 
 
 Of God's desire ; 
 
 seraphim and angels, bowing lowly 
 Around the blinding throne ; 
 
 1 bid you praise the Maker, great and holy, 
 
 And Him alone. 
 
THE BURDEN OF SAMARIA 
 
The Burden of Samaria. 
 
 Jeroboam. 
 
 Israel, hearken to me! 
 Said Jeroboam, the king; 
 
 Go not to Zion to bend the knee ! 
 Said the son of Nebat, the king. 
 
 A golden Apis I make in Dan, 
 An Apis of gold in Beth-El; 
 
 So bear your offerings, every man, 
 To them, and all will be well. 
 
 Gods are they who brought your sires 
 From Egypt in days agone; 
 
 So gather about their altar fires 
 And worship from eve to dawn. 
 
 1 burn the incense, I am the priest, 
 
 Said Jeroboam, the king; 
 O Ephraim, come to my holy feast, 
 Said the son of Nebat, the king. 
 
 Ahijah's Curse. 
 
 The blinded seer, the Shilonite, 
 
 Ahijah, worshipped Yahveh's name; 
 And when the queen of Israel came. 
 
 An angel brought him second-sight. 
 
152 PALESTINA. 
 
 ''Approach !" he bade, "and bow the knee ! 
 
 I know thee, wife of Ephraim's king ; 
 
 I know the query thou dost bring. 
 Go, bear thy husband God's decree. 
 
 " 'Because thou floutest Me,' He saith ; 
 'Because thou madest gods of gold, 
 And leddest Jacob from my fold, 
 
 I summon Nebat's sons to death; 
 
 " 'The dog shall tear them in the street. 
 The vulture tear them in the field ; 
 Their bones shall whiten, unconcealed, 
 
 Beneath the scorn of alien feet.' 
 
 "And thou, O weeping mother, fly 
 To find thy stricken one alive; 
 Yet even while thy steps arrive 
 
 Beneath thy portal, he shall die." 
 
 Elijah's Curse. 
 
 O son of Omri, Ahab, king 
 In Jacob ! evil hast thou done 
 Above the kings before thee. None 
 
 Have served like thee the Cursed Thing. 
 
 O son of Omri, was it well 
 
 To worship molten calves, but thou 
 
 Must also diadem the brow 
 Of Sidon's heathen Jezebel? 
 
THE BURDEN OF SAMARIA. 1 53 
 
 Moreover, thou hast let her rave 
 
 Against Jehovah's faithful seers 
 
 Till I alone, a child of tears, 
 Have 'scaped the slayer's bloody glaive. 
 
 Yea, lofty stones of Ashtar, and 
 
 A fane to Sidon's brazen Boast, 
 
 And altars to the starry host 
 Beside thine ivory palace stand. 
 
 Wherefore, O king, Jehovah saith, 
 
 I send thee neither rain nor dew 
 
 For years, till Israel shall rue 
 His wanton ways, and long for death. 
 
 Carmel. 
 
 The Holy One of Shiloh bade: 
 "Elijah, speak to Ephraim's king, 
 And I, the merciful, will bring 
 
 My rain anew on hill and glade." 
 
 And Ahab railed : "Art thou the man 
 Who troubles thirsting Israel?" — 
 "Not I, but Sidon's Jezebel; 
 
 Not I, but Omri's heathen clan." 
 
 "Why should the Highest bless a fold 
 That turns from Him to ways of death, 
 Adoring Baal and Ashtoreth 
 
 And Jeroboam's beasts of gold? 
 
154 PALESTINA. 
 
 "Why should He pour His fruitful rain 
 Upon the realm of her who drave 
 His faithful seers from cave to cave, 
 . And spilled their blood on mount and plain ? 
 
 "Now gather thou on Carmel all 
 The prophets of the starry horde 
 And Arbel's queen and Sidon's lord; 
 
 Yea, whoso scoffs at Yahveh's call. 
 
 "And they shall cry to gods of stone, 
 
 And I to El's eternal name; 
 
 And whoso sends consuming flame. 
 The earth shall hail him God alone." 
 
 * * * Hi * Hi 
 
 O fire of Heaven ! Sinai's breath ! 
 
 Elijah's altar blazes high! 
 
 The priests of Baal and Ashtar lie 
 By Kishon's river, dumb in death. 
 
 Then wailed the Canaanitish queen : 
 "O gods infernal ! Death and Fear ! 
 Avenge me on this bloody seer ! 
 
 Or slay me also, gods unseen !" 
 
 The Death of Ahah. 
 
 To Yahveh's prophet Ahab cried : 
 "Shall Ephraim's host to battle go, 
 And Judah lift the spear and bow 
 
 Against Benhadad's armored pride?" 
 
THE BURDEN OF SAMARIA. I55 
 
 *'Yea, go and prosper," scoffed the seer. 
 
 ''Have not the oracles of Baal 
 
 Assured thee triumph over all? 
 Why seekest thou the future here? 
 
 "But canst thou bear Jehovah's word? 
 I saw thy people scattered far, 
 Like sheep upon a mountain scar: 
 
 And, 'These are masterless !' I heard." 
 
 So Ahab changed his broidered cloak, 
 
 And laid his golden armor by; 
 
 Then raised his lordly battle-cry. 
 And through the ranks of Syria broke. 
 
 A nameless Aramean drew 
 
 A random arrow, aimed by chance; 
 But Yahveh winged the fragile lance, 
 
 And smote the jointed harness through. 
 
 Thereon the king: "O charioteer. 
 
 Turn thou aside, for I must die; 
 
 But let no soldier come anigh. 
 Lest Ephraim yield in panic fear." 
 
 At even, when the chariot fled. 
 
 The king alone knew not defeat. 
 
 His warder stayed him in his seat. 
 Erect and proud. The king was dead. 
 
1 5 6 PALESTINA. 
 
 Jezebel at the Window. 
 
 She decked herself with chain and ring, 
 She rouged her cheek and tyred her fleece, 
 Yet ever shrilled, "Had Zimri peace ? 
 
 Had Zimri peace who slew his king?" 
 
 She trembled not at treason's horde, 
 She fronted Jehu's lion eye, 
 Nor ceased to shriek that boding cry, 
 
 "Had Zimri peace who slew his lord?" 
 
 "Ho there, above! who stands for me?" 
 
 The slayer clamored : "Fling her down I" * * * 
 O Sidon's lineage! Ephraim's crown! 
 
 O what a fall was there to see! 
 
 Her royal blood besprinkled horse 
 
 And wheel and wall and trampling foot; 
 Her gracious beauty gorged the brute 
 
 That snarled above her queenly corse. 
 
 Hosea's Curse. 
 
 Ephraim forgetteth Sinai's El, 
 
 And buildeth fanes to calves of gold ; 
 His Baalim-stones are manifold. 
 
 His altars burden hill and dell. 
 
 Yet shall he tremble with affright 
 Because of the shame of Beth Aven, 
 Where batten the vulture and raven, 
 
 And smoke of offering dims the sight. 
 
THE BURDEN OF SAMARIA. I 57 
 
 Beth Aven, sin of Israel, cry ! 
 
 Thy shafts of Ashteroth shall fall, 
 
 And thorn and thistle cover all 
 The altars where thy Baalim lie. 
 
 Behold, thy glory disappears ! 
 
 The idols of Jacob are shattered. 
 The hosts of Samaria scattered. 
 
 And none shall dry the captive's tears. 
 
 The Ninevite shall tread your land 
 Your palaces shall hear his mirth, 
 And you shall bring your children forth, 
 
 And give them tO' the slayer's hand. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM 
 
The Story of Jerusalem. 
 The Messenger. 
 
 I saw the Mighty on His throne, 
 
 UpHfted, awful, beautiful. 
 
 His angels round him thronging full 
 The temple to its topmost stone. 
 
 Above Him soared the seraphim 
 With pinions folded o'er the face 
 Because the brightness of the place 
 
 Might make immortal senses swim. 
 
 Then one invisible to me 
 
 (So dazzled was I by the flame). 
 Cried, "Holy, holy is his name ! 
 
 His glory covers earth and sea." 
 
 Meanwhile the brazen gateways reeled 
 And all the temple rocked in smoke, 
 So mighty was the voice that spoke. 
 
 So fearful was the sight revealed. 
 
 Then said I, "Woe is me ! undone ! 
 
 Because I am a man unclean ; 
 
 And yet my sinful eyes have seen 
 The Lord of hosts, the Holy One." 
 
 Thereon a seraph flew anear 
 And laid upon my lips a coal : 
 
1 62 PALESTINA. 
 
 "Lo this hath purified thy soul 
 And made thee worthy to be here." 
 
 Then where the glory folded high 
 A heavenly voice responded low : 
 "Who is my herald? Who will go?"— 
 
 I answered : ''Send me ! Here am I." 
 
 The Message, 
 
 O land of carven imageries, 
 
 Where every man doth hew his god, 
 And every forehead beats the sod 
 
 Before the dumb and sightless lies ! 
 
 The peasant v/orships in his cot. 
 The lordling in his pictured hall; 
 They turn from Thee, both great and small ; 
 
 Therefore, my God, forgive them not. 
 
 The anger of the Lord is rolled 
 On all the arrogant and proud, 
 The steeds and chariots clanking loud, 
 
 The stores of silver and of gold ; 
 
 The groves of terebinth and oak 
 
 Where Baal delights in dance and song, 
 And Moloch scowls upon his throng 
 
 Of worshippers through flame and smoke; 
 
 Tlie beetling towers and battlements, 
 The marble courts and palaces. 
 The ships of Tarshish cleaving seas 
 
 From isles of gum and frankincense. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 163 
 
 In that affrighted day shall men 
 Cast out their idols to the moles, 
 And hide within the mountain holes, 
 
 And fight with monsters for a den. 
 
 For terribly shall God descend 
 
 Upon the wicked, wicked earth 
 
 To sweep it like a besomed earth 
 Till Judah's strong delusions end. 
 
 The Curse. 
 
 The righteous dieth day by day. 
 
 The merciful is borne apart; 
 
 And none receiveth it to heart. 
 Or saith, "Behold they 'scape away." 
 
 They 'scape from cruelty and stress ; 
 
 They enter into perfect calm ; 
 
 They sleep upon their beds of balm, 
 Each folded sweet in holiness. 
 
 But you, the sons of pagan shame. 
 Vile heritors of breeds perverse. 
 Draw near and hearken to the curse 
 
 That God hath bidden me proclaim. 
 
 O brood unholy, evil born, 
 
 Ye mock the voice that angels fear. 
 Ye thrust the tongue in wicked leer, 
 
 Ye open wide a mouth of scorn. 
 
164 PALESTINA. 
 
 On every hill ye worship lies, 
 In every grove ye mutter spells, 
 And slay your sons in bloody dells 
 
 To gods who cannot hear their cries. 
 
 In rivulets of glen and cave 
 
 Ye pour your offerings of wine. 
 And call the senseless flints divine 
 
 That glimmer through the senseless wave. 
 
 Shall I rejoice, Jehovah saith, 
 
 In rites and blasphemies like these. 
 In dances underneath the trees. 
 
 And chants upon the mountain heath ? 
 
 Behold, when foemen mount your wall. 
 And ye discern your temples blaze ; 
 When slaughter reddens all your ways,' 
 
 And spoilers run from hall to hall; 
 
 When judgment overtakes your crime. 
 And ye beseech me from the dust; 
 Let those deliver whom ye trust, 
 
 The tempest-driven sons of time! 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 65 
 
 The Judgment. 
 
 Thus sayeth Jehovah, the Lord : 
 
 Go speak to the mountains of Zion, 
 Yea, cry to the valleys and waters : 
 
 Behold, I arrive with a sword, 
 Behold, I come up like a lion ; 
 
 I come to destroy your high places. 
 To spoil and defile them with slaughters. 
 
 Your idols shall fall on their faces. 
 Your altars shall totter and crumble. 
 
 Your soothsaying prophets shall die. 
 And there, where your graven gods tumble. 
 
 The slain of your people shall lie. 
 The hand of my fury shall blight • 
 
 And wither and utterly humble 
 The oaks of your heathen delight. 
 
 The beautiful groves that ye cherish. 
 The breath of my anger shall waste 
 
 Your armies with sudden affright 
 And fill your strongholds with amaze. 
 
 Your populous cities shall perish. 
 The warders shall fall in their haste. 
 
 Shall stumble and die in their flight 
 And cumber w4th corpses the ways. 
 
 Yea, mingled with imageries shattered 
 In temples and groves and by waters; 
 
 Yea, piled around altars bespattered 
 By victims of Baalim abhorred; 
 
 The bones of your sons and your daughters 
 Shall whiten unburied and scattered. 
 
 To witness that I am the Lord. 
 
1 66 PALESTINA. 
 
 The Fast. 
 
 "Behold," the sons of Judah say, 
 
 "How many solemn fasts we hold ! 
 How many contrite psalms are rolled ! 
 
 And yet He turns his face away." 
 
 Alas ! ye fast for hate and strife, 
 To smite with cruel fist the poor. 
 And drive the beggar from the door 
 
 That guards your light and pampered life. 
 
 Is this the fast that God decrees, 
 A day for man to scourge his soul 
 And bow in counterfeited dole 
 
 Like rushes smitten by the breeze? 
 
 What boots it though ye crawl and weep, 
 In sackcloth hiding garments fair. 
 And sprinkle cinders on the hair. 
 
 All day upon the ashen heap? 
 
 Behold the fast that God ordains : 
 To break the yoke of wickedness ; 
 To ease the burden of distress ; 
 
 To loose the slave's and debtor's chains ; 
 
 To lead the houseless one within; 
 
 To cheer his fainting soul with bread ; 
 
 To clothe him, warm him, in thy stead ; 
 To be a brother to thy kin. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 6/ 
 
 Then, when thou askest any boon, 
 Thy God will answer, "Here am I !" 
 His sun will rise upon thy sky. 
 
 And all thy darkness turn to noon. 
 
 The City of Destruction. 
 
 Woe, woe to the city imperial. 
 
 The delicate city ! 
 There cometh a shadow funereal, 
 
 A doom without pity. 
 
 Thy daughters walk pertly and haughtily; 
 
 They mince as in dances ; 
 They bridle the neck ; they turn naughtily 
 
 With wantoning glances. 
 
 Thine ancients are misers, usurious; 
 
 Thy judges are knavish; 
 Thine opulent ones are luxurious ; 
 
 Thy mean ones are slavish. 
 
 Thy magistrates creep in senility; 
 
 Thy prophets dissemble; 
 Thy counsellors babble sterility; 
 
 Thy men of war tremble. 
 
 Thou wast altogether victorious 
 When God was thy pleasure; 
 
 Thy visage was shining and glorious. 
 Thy joy had no measure. 
 
1 68 PALESTINA. 
 
 But now art thou wayward, undutiful 
 
 To Him, thy salvation; 
 And so art thou blemished, unbeautiful, 
 
 A doom-stricken nation. 
 
 Because thou hast borne thee exultingly 
 
 And trampled the lowly; 
 Because thou hast chattered insultingly 
 
 Of things that are holy ; 
 
 Because thou despiseth admonishment 
 
 And boldest to error ; 
 Thy judgment shall be an astonishment. 
 
 Thy scourging a terror. 
 
 The Chambers of Imagery. 
 
 I saw the image of the Name. 
 
 The loins and robe were amber bright. 
 The waist was girt about with light, 
 
 And all above was dazzling flame. 
 
 It reached the likeness of a hand. 
 And bore me 'twixt the earth and sky 
 To where an idol brazens nigh 
 
 The holy fane of Judah's land ; 
 
 And showed me all the evil ways 
 Of Zion, lost in unbelief, 
 And wandering from grief to grief. 
 
 From guilt to guilt, in blinded maze. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 69 
 
 I saw the under courts of sin, 
 
 The hidden shrines of carven hes, 
 
 The darkhng vaults of imageries, 
 And Judah worshipping therein; 
 
 The chosen ancients of our race. 
 
 The hallowed seventy, kneeling there, 
 With solemn eyes and silver hair, 
 
 While incense clouded all the place; 
 
 Judean maids with humbled head 
 And ashen locks and rended vest, 
 Who cut the arm and beat the breast 
 
 In wicked wail for Tammuz dead ; 
 
 Yea, men within the holy gate. 
 Who reverenced the star of day. 
 And turned their senseless gaze away 
 
 From Yahveh's choir and templed state. 
 
 Then said the Holy One, "Behold ! 
 
 Thou seest what my people do: 
 
 Therefore I will not spare nor rue, 
 But smite them fiercely, young and old." 
 
 The Warning. 
 
 Storm out, ye trumpeters of death ! 
 
 Along my holy mountain, blow ! 
 
 Awaken larums wild with woe ! 
 Blow, cruel trumpets ! spare no breath ! 
 
I/O 
 
 PALESTINA. 
 
 For lo, Jehovah's day of might 
 Is nigh : a day of bitter doom : 
 A day of darkness and of gloom: 
 
 Of thickened clouds and heavy night. 
 
 Like morning mists, that overspread 
 
 The mountains, comes a northern swarm, 
 A people great and fierce, whose form 
 
 The living knew not, nor the dead. 
 
 Before their swiftness rolls a smoke; 
 
 Behind them angry flamings rise; 
 
 Before, the land is Paradise; 
 Behind, a waste devoid of folk. 
 
 Their guise is like to steeds who stride ' 
 And foam along the front of wars ; 
 Their clamor, like to leaping cars 
 
 That thunder down the mountain side. 
 
 As mighty ones they run apace. 
 
 As chosen ones they mount and climb ; 
 Each keeps his even rank and time. 
 
 Nor ever falters from his place. 
 
 They scale the battlemented walls. 
 They speed along the city streets ; 
 Behold them in your fair retreats ! 
 
 Behold them in your lordly halls ! 
 
 The earth recoils before their tread. 
 The sun and moon withdraw their light, 
 The starry armies faint in night, 
 
 The hollow welkins reel in dread. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. I/I 
 
 Wherefore, renounce your ways of ill, 
 O house of Judah ! Turn ! Repent 
 With eager fasting and lament! 
 
 Perhaps your God will pardon still. 
 
 The Spoiler. 
 
 I bring destruction — hear, O land ! — 
 I bring destruction on your race, 
 Because ye turn away the face, 
 
 Because ye scoff at my command. 
 
 What care I for your honeyed cane, 
 Your smoke of Sheba's frankincense? 
 Go, take your sacrifices hence ! 
 
 Your loaded altars burn in vain. 
 
 Behold, I lay a stumbling stone 
 Before you ; all shall perish, all ; 
 The fathers and the sons shall fall ; 
 
 The friend, the comrade; every one. 
 
 A people hastens from afar 
 
 To desolate your might and mirth ; 
 It journeys from the sides of earth 
 
 To seek and overtake and mar. 
 
 Their hearts are merciless to slay; 
 
 They clamor like the ocean storm ; 
 
 They brandish bow and lance ; they swarm 
 On horses ranked in war array. 
 
']2 PALESTINA. 
 
 Be fearful; hold within the gate; 
 
 Avoid the harvests of your field; 
 
 They hide the foeman's sword and shield 
 On every side the slayers wait. 
 
 O daughter of my people, cry! 
 Cry out with ashes on your head, 
 Like one bewailing o'er the dead. 
 
 For lo', the spoiler draweth nigh! 
 
 The Siege. 
 
 I seek the fields, the gardens fair. 
 And stumble o'er the bloody slain ; 
 I creep within the gates again. 
 
 And lo, they die of famine there. 
 
 The prophet wanders in amaze, 
 As one who gropeth with the hand 
 He knoweth not his native land, 
 
 He findeth not the ancient ways. 
 
 Why hast Thou scorned Jerusalem, 
 And hated all Thy holy hill? 
 Why hast Thou smitten us, until 
 
 No hand may heal the broken stem ? 
 
 We know our wickedness, O Lord, 
 The wickedness of son and sire ; 
 Yet veil Thy countenance of ire, 
 
 Nor hold us evermore abhorred. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1/3 
 
 Because of Thy majestic name, 
 
 Because Thy throne is glorious, 
 
 Break not Thy covenant with us, 
 Thy prostrate people, clothed in shame. 
 
 Overthrow. 
 
 I looked upon the earth ; and lo 
 
 A hollow void where life was spent; 
 I looked upon the firmament. 
 
 And saw nor sun nor aster glow. 
 
 The hills were stricken to their fall. 
 
 The mountains reeled like driven waves ; 
 Mankind had vanished into graves. 
 
 And silence brooded over all. 
 
 The melodists of morn had failed, 
 The fragrant gardens lay a-waste ; 
 The haughty cities were abased 
 
 To ruins, where the owlet wailed. 
 
 Because of rushing steeds, and din 
 Of archers, they arose in flight 
 To fen and wold and rocky height. 
 
 Nor any man remained therein. 
 
 Yea, scattered were they ; hurled before 
 The coming of the Lord of hosts ; 
 His anger quelled their swelling boasts 
 
 And swept them like a besomed floor. 
 
1 74 PALESTINA. 
 
 "Because I purposed it," he saith, 
 "Because I promised in my wrath, 
 I will not turn upon my path, 
 
 Nor sorrow when they sink to death. 
 
 "Because I prophesied their doom. 
 The land shall lie a wilderness, 
 The earth shall mourn in sore distress. 
 
 The firmament be veiled in gloom." 
 
 Unsepiilchred. 
 
 The glory o£ the land hath ceased 
 And scornful hands bring forth the bones 
 Of those who sate on Judah's thrones, 
 
 The bones of noble, seer and priest; 
 
 To scatter them before the host 
 
 Of shining heaven, the sun of noon, 
 The multitude of stars, the moon. 
 
 The senseless gods they worshipped most; 
 
 And none shall see with pity ; none 
 
 Shall hide them from the prowling brute ; 
 But they shall lie beneath the foot 
 
 Without a covering or stone ; 
 
 While those who lurk in mountain caves, 
 The remnant of an evil tribe. 
 Lean forth with bitter scowl and gibe, 
 
 Curse God and men, and pray for graves. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1/5 
 
 The Sorrozvfitl City. 
 
 How doth the city bide alone 
 
 That lately rang with multitudes, 
 A queen among the gentile broods, 
 
 A princess glorious on her throne! . 
 
 She weepeth sorely through the night, 
 Her tears disguise her smitten face; 
 She wins no comforting nor grace 
 
 From those who called her their delight. 
 
 Her foes pursued her flying tread 
 
 And caught her 'mid the narrow ways; 
 She bowed her head in pale amaze ; 
 
 In alien lands she bows her head. 
 
 The hallowed streets of Zion moan 
 Because her solemn feasts are spent; 
 Her gates are void, her towers rent. 
 
 Her virgins weep, her prophets groan. 
 
 Because her sins were manifold 
 
 Her children bear the heathen's chain. 
 Her adversaries thrive amain. 
 
 Her spoilers riot uncontrolled. 
 
 The Lament. 
 
 Remember, Jehovah, our strait. 
 
 Remember our noyance. 
 The elders have failed from the gate, 
 
 The youths from their joyance. 
 
17^ PALESTINA. 
 
 Our fathers have sinned, and are not, 
 
 We bear their offences ; 
 The stranger inherits our lot, 
 
 The foe our defences. 
 
 Our princes are tortured and slain. 
 Our daughters win scorning; 
 
 Our triumph hath ended in pain, 
 Our dances in mourning. 
 
 The temple of God is defaced, 
 
 The temple of Zion ; 
 Our beautiful hill is a waste 
 
 For foxes to lie on. 
 
 Thy kingdom remaineth, O Lord, 
 
 Forever and ever; 
 Why needest Thou hold us abhorred 
 
 And pardon us never? 
 
 Behold us, O God, we implore. 
 
 Behold us in pity; 
 Restore thy sad people ; restore 
 
 Thy sorrowing city. 
 
 By the Rivers of Babylon. 
 
 Beside Babylonian waters 
 
 We halted ; we rested unsleeping ; 
 
 We hushed ; we remembered the slaughters 
 Of Zion; remembered them weeping. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. I// 
 
 We covered our sorrowing faces, 
 
 Remembering Zion the splendid, 
 Her grandeurs, her delicate graces, 
 
 Now smitten and trampled and ended. 
 
 With sobbing and tears we remembered. 
 And hung up our harps on the willows 
 
 For beautiful Canaan dismembered. 
 For Judah gone down in the billows. 
 
 And they who destroyed us, whose fury 
 
 Had ravined and torn like a lion, 
 Said, "Sport ye, O captives of Jewry; 
 
 Now sing us the anthems of Zion." 
 
 Ye cruel ! our anthems are praises 
 To God ; they are joyous as bridals. 
 
 How may we attune the sweet phrases 
 To chains, amid aliens and idols? 
 
 Jerusalem, should I forget thee, 
 
 Thou ruin that Babel disdaineth, 
 Or fail but a moment tO' set thee 
 
 Above every joy that remaineth ; 
 
 Then perish the hand that hath holden 
 The harp while our choruses thundered ! 
 
 And perish the cadences golden 
 That billowed till Israel wondered ! 
 
1 78 PALESTINA. 
 
 The Vision of The Glory. 
 
 I sate with those who sighed 
 
 In bonds abhorred 
 Beside the Chebar's aHen tide, 
 And saw the heavens cloven wide, 
 
 And saw the vision of the Lord. 
 
 II 
 
 Behold a northern hurricane 
 
 Whereon a monstrous cloud did sit. 
 
 Infolding whirls of fiery rain 
 With amber in the midst of it, 
 
 While brightness girdled all again. 
 
 Ill 
 
 From out the flying storm 
 
 Of circling flame 
 
 And luminous amber color, came 
 Four wondrous living creatures. 
 
 Alike to Adam's sons in form 
 But other far in features ; 
 
 For each beheld with fourfold eyes 
 And showed a fourfold face. 
 One countenance of human grace. 
 
 The others lordly beasts in guise. 
 
 Expressing things beyond surmise. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 79 
 
 IV 
 
 On fourfold wings they sped 
 
 Straight forward, never turning, 
 Suffused with gleams from foot to head 
 Like coals of altars glowing red, 
 
 Or golden lamps a-burning. 
 While issued from the spangled splendor 
 Incessant lightnings keen and slender. 
 
 Above their fo-reheads shone, 
 And trembled as they went, 
 A plumage woven of the firmament, 
 
 In color like a dreadful crystal stone. 
 The clamor of their wings surpassed 
 The noise of waters vast. 
 
 The roar of rivers downward driven, 
 
 The shout of billows tempest-riven. 
 
 VI 
 
 I saw them fly 
 
 Athwart the earth's dominions. 
 Till suddenly, above the sky, 
 
 A mighty voice resounded ; 
 Whereon they drooped their pinions 
 
 And stood with faces turned on high 
 Like creatures all confounded 
 
 Because of some great glory nigh. 
 
l80 PALESTINA. 
 
 VII 
 
 Then, far beyond unaided ken, 
 
 Appeared a blinding sapphire throne, 
 Whereon sate One, subHme, alone, 
 
 In fashion like the sons of men. 
 
 The Scroll of Retribution. 
 
 I saw the great and holy One, 
 In fashion like a man divine. 
 Devised of amber wondrous fine. 
 
 And filled with flamings like the sun. 
 
 Around him bright apparel blew. 
 Of mingled color, stain on stain. 
 Like to the bow that follows rain 
 
 Because Jehovah's word is true. 
 
 Then falling on my face, I heard 
 A thunder far above my head, 
 A voice of thunderings that said, 
 
 "'Arise and listen to my word. 
 
 "'Arise and listen, son of man! 
 
 I send thee to an evil race 
 
 That scorns and ever scorned my grace, 
 Since first its little life began. 
 
 "Their utterance is full of stings, 
 
 Their looks are sha^rper than a spear ; 
 Yet, even though they will not hear. 
 
 Proclaim the burden of these things." 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. l8l 
 
 Then, reaching through the cloven skies, 
 A hand, resplendent, swiftly stole. 
 That held the seeming of a roll 
 
 And opened it before my eyes. 
 
 I looked upon the roll, and lo 
 
 'Twas written close on either side ; 
 Yet naught was written there beside 
 
 Lamenting, mourning, wail and woe. 
 
 The Burden of Tyre. 
 
 O island city, throning high 
 Beside the gate of many seas, 
 Your tribute comes on every breeze 
 
 From lands beyond the circled sky. 
 
 It comes in many a galleon 
 
 Whose rowers toil on ivory seats. 
 While blue and purple broidered sheets 
 
 Curve out from masts of Lebanon. 
 
 For you the Persians bend the bow. 
 The Gammadim uplift the spear. 
 The helms of Lybia sparkle clear. 
 
 The shields of Lud and Arvad glow. 
 
 Your markets echo back the fume 
 Of merchants come from many a land 
 Beyond the wilderness of sand. 
 
 Beyond the wilderness of spume. 
 
1 82 PALESTINA. 
 
 Your stalls abound in precious wares : 
 Judea's olives, balm and grain ; 
 The robes that Syrian maidens stain; 
 
 The gleaming ore that Tarshish bears ; 
 
 The wool of Kedar's sable tents ; 
 
 Togarmah's steeds and Javan's swords ; 
 
 The bars of Ophir's aureate hoards ; 
 The spice of Sheba and the scents. 
 
 The merchants of a hundred isles 
 
 Have made you perfect, full of grace ; 
 The earth is dazed before your face, 
 
 The sea entangled by your wiles. 
 
 "But you shall perish," saith the Lord ; 
 "Your glories wither like to flowers : — 
 Behold I bring against your towers 
 
 The King of Kings, the orient horde. 
 
 "The king of Babylon shall raise 
 
 His mound against your high estate ; 
 His cars shall clash beneath your gate. 
 
 His horsemen slay along your ways. 
 
 "The isles shall tremble at your fall. 
 Your sailors stand afar and cry. 
 And fishers spread their nets to dry 
 
 Where beetled once your lordly wall." 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 83 
 
 The Burden of Babylon. 
 
 A noise of steeds and battle-cars ! 
 
 The Lord of battles calls his bands ; 
 
 They come from far and foreign lands, 
 From kingdoms known to alien stars. 
 
 The mountains echo back the tread 
 And shout of nations drawing nigh; 
 A dust of peoples palls the sky, 
 
 As though the sun and moon were dead. 
 
 The wicked perish in their wrong. 
 The arrogance of nobles pales. 
 The valiant utter woman wails, 
 
 The arrow smiteth through the strong. 
 
 And glorious, queenly Babylon, 
 The beauty of Chaldean pride, 
 Shall be as when Gomorrah died 
 
 By Sodom's side in ages gone. 
 
 While God remembereth her sin 
 
 No people there may build and breed, 
 Nor Arab tether there his steed, 
 
 Nor shepherd fold his flock within ; 
 
 But all the desert creatures there 
 Shall habit; bodeful monsters call; 
 The vulture flap from hall to hall ; 
 
 The satyr dance in temples bare. 
 
1 84 PALESTINA. 
 
 In ruined palaces and towers 
 
 Shall wail the daughters of the owl, 
 And slimy dragons crawl and howl 
 
 Where lofty gardens hung their bowers. 
 
 Her doom is near. O judgment day! 
 O day of vengeance, when the Lord 
 Shall lift the bow of Media's horde 
 
 And Marduk fall to long decay ! 
 
 The Feast of Bel. 
 
 The golden king Belshazzar 
 
 Was full of joy and boast 
 Because his walls and warriors 
 
 Withstood the Persian host. 
 "Behold," he cried, ''my people. 
 
 Your God hath served you well ; 
 So keep ye fair and debonair 
 
 The feast of Marduk Bel." 
 
 Then all the Chaldees triumphed 
 
 With pipe and dance and song; 
 From golden wine to golden shrine 
 
 They reeled in bacchant throng; 
 The captains o'er the turrets 
 
 Were daft with drink and mirth ; 
 The warders 'neath the portals 
 
 Lay prone along the earth. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 8$ 
 
 Belshazzar also reveled 
 
 Within his marble hall ; 
 He gathered there his damozels, 
 
 His queen, his sons and all. 
 A hundred score of nobles 
 
 Caroused before his face, 
 While dancers wheeled and cornets pealed 
 
 And incense filled the place. 
 
 And when his heart was merry 
 
 With song and jest and tale. 
 And when his magians anthemed 
 
 "O Lord Merodach, hail !" 
 He bade to bring each holy thing 
 
 That Zion used of old, 
 The candlesticks and vessels 
 
 Of argent, bronze and gold. 
 
 He bade to fill the goblets 
 
 In honor of the fanes 
 Where Babel's myriads worshipped 
 
 And Judah served in chains. 
 They brought the sacred beakers. 
 
 They brimmed them and they quaffed 
 While priest and knave and lord and slave 
 
 Exalted Bel and laughed. 
 
 But even while they jested 
 
 The king beheld a hand 
 Against the stone above his throne 
 
 Where ghost alone might stand ; — 
 
1 86 PALESTINA. 
 
 A hand ! no other presence ! 
 
 An awful hand! alone! 
 That scored the alabaster 
 
 With writing all unknown. 
 
 He saw it bright and blinding, 
 
 He saw the fingers gleam ; 
 They traced their mystic message 
 
 And vanished like a dream ; 
 But there, distinct, unfading, 
 
 Remained the occult words 
 Above the king's pavilion-rings, 
 
 Where none might reach but birds. 
 
 Then changed Belshazzar's visage ; 
 
 It shook from chin to hair. 
 His lips were dry and ashen, 
 
 His eyes were all a-stare. 
 And like to him his nobles 
 
 Uplifted brows of gloom. 
 For well they spied those lines abide, 
 
 And guessed a coming doom. 
 
 "Ye priests, ye seers, ye sages !" 
 
 The monarch shrieked at last ; 
 "Ye dolts who search the welkins, 
 
 Why sit ye there aghast ? 
 Whatever man may open 
 
 This secret thing, shall hold 
 The third high place of royal grace 
 
 And wear the chain of gold." 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 8/ 
 
 Yet none divined the writing, 
 
 Tliey stared with stifled breath; 
 And there was such a silence 
 
 As chills the caves of death, 
 Until the queen stood forward 
 
 Where crouched the king in fear, 
 And calmly said, "Be comforted! 
 
 The man ye need is here." 
 
 "Hast thou forgotten Daniel, 
 
 The seer of ancient fame 
 Who sate before thy father's door 
 
 And sentenced in his name? 
 His God hath made him cunning 
 
 In omen, dream and sign; 
 So let thy heralds call him 
 
 To read the mystic line." 
 
 Thereon the holy prophet 
 
 Was brought, and thus the king : 
 "The gods are v/ith thee, Daniel, 
 
 To teach thee everything; 
 They give thee magian wisdom 
 
 To render dreams and seize 
 The hidden light of second sight 
 
 And show the dark decrees. 
 
 "And now behold this message 
 Which came, I know not whence. 
 
 If thou hast power to solve it 
 And tell its fearful sense, 
 
1 88 PALESTINA. 
 
 Then shalt thou wear the scarlet 
 In Marduk's wide domain 
 
 And ride in state from gate to gate 
 And bear the golden chain." 
 
 '*0 king," replied the Hebrew, 
 
 "To others be thy meed. 
 Yet will I read the riddle 
 
 And show the things decreed. 
 O king ! the king, the mighty king. 
 
 Thy father, ruled the earth 
 Until he turned from Yahveh 
 
 Who gave him birth and worth. 
 
 "Then Yahveh veiled his glory, 
 
 And drave him forth from men 
 To herd with humble cattle 
 
 And share their food and pen, 
 Until he knew his error 
 
 In lowliness and tears 
 And worshipped One who rules alone, 
 
 Enthroned upon the years. 
 
 "But thou hast scoffed at warning 
 
 And walked in f roward ways ; 
 To Him who gave thee empire 
 
 Thou hast not given praise ; 
 And now, behold, thou bringest 
 
 The spoils of Zion's shrine 
 To pour therein for Baals of sin 
 
 Thine offerings of wine. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. I89 
 
 "Therefore the Lord appointed 
 
 This hand to write thy fate ; 
 The words are words of number, 
 
 Of measure and of weight. 
 Thy sceptred years are counted, 
 
 Thy merit strikes the beam, 
 Thy fair domain is torn in twain, 
 
 The Persian comes supreme." 
 
 Then said the king, "O princes, 
 
 This Hebrew bodeth ill; 
 But lo, my word is given. 
 
 And kings their word fulfill. 
 Put on the golden girdle. 
 
 Put on the scarlet gown. 
 Proclaim him third in Babel's herd 
 
 And lead him through the town." 
 
 Now if he spake in earnest. 
 
 Or wrath, or mirthful scorn. 
 What man could tell who liveth. 
 
 Or ever yet was born? 
 For even while he mumbled 
 
 The bacchant words ye know, 
 He slept the sleep that bibbers keep. 
 
 Nor ever babbled moe. 
 
 For El deboshed our tyrants, 
 
 The king and all his sons. 
 The princes, lords and magians, 
 
 The chiefs, the mighty ones ; 
 
:90 PALESTINA. 
 
 He gave them wine of slumber 
 That they might drowse and die ; 
 
 That none might rise, or ope his eyes 
 Till shouting death were nigh. 
 
 No warder hears a larum, 
 
 No captain lifts his head, 
 The while a Persian army 
 
 Descends the river bed; 
 And when they wake, their vision 
 
 Is dim with trickling gore. 
 And through the maze of Babel's ways 
 
 Dart foemen smiting sore. 
 
 Hot herald runs to herald, 
 
 Post panteth on to post, 
 To wake the fated monarch 
 
 Who dreams amid his host; 
 Through many streets their panic fleets. 
 
 Through spacious courts they wend 
 To tell him that his city 
 
 Is taken at one end; 
 
 To tell him that his warriors 
 
 Are palsied with affright. 
 And all the postern outlets 
 
 Are stopped against his flight ; 
 To bid him break from slumber 
 
 And rise in lion mood 
 Toi crush the foe, or fighting go 
 
 To death, as monarchs should. 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. I9I 
 
 But vainly rode the heralds ; 
 
 The chasers followed nigh, 
 And king Belshazzar started 
 
 From dreaming but to die. 
 Great Babylon was hurtled 
 
 Like Lucifer to Hell ; 
 Her Nebo bowed in ruin loud 
 
 Beside her fallen Bel. 
 
 The spoilers were upon her, 
 
 They breached her mountain walls, 
 They brake her brazen portals. 
 
 They burned her ivory halls. 
 In vain her dwellers labored 
 
 To quench her funeral pyre; 
 Her anguish rose in tossing throes 
 
 Of all-including fire. 
 
 A scream of woman's terror, 
 
 A howl of man's despair, 
 Fulfilled the golden city 
 
 From blazing square to square; 
 The slain of many peoples 
 
 Ensanguined all her ways 
 And redly dyed her arrowy tide 
 
 For woful days and days. 
 
 Thus God repaid to Babel 
 
 The havoc she had hurled 
 Against our lovely Zion, 
 
 The jewel of His world; 
 
192 PALESTINA. 
 
 And ever may His fury 
 
 Remain upon the spot 
 Till Babel's might is wrapped in night, 
 
 And Babel's name forgot. 
 
 Lucifer. 
 
 How hath the strong oppressor ceased 
 Who smote the lands with tireless stroke! 
 Yea, he who held the earth in yoke, 
 
 The golden city of the East. 
 
 Hell rose to meet thy coming tread ; 
 
 It stirred the ghostly ones for thee; 
 
 They scoffed, Art thou become as we? 
 Behold, like us thou liest dead ! 
 
 Thy pomp is humbled in the dust ; 
 
 Thy viols hush their cheerful noise; 
 
 The worm is underneath thy joyg 
 And overlays thine every lust. 
 
 O Lucifer ! O son of morn ! 
 
 How art thou fallen from thy state! 
 
 How art thou vanquished, desolate. 
 Who trode the sons of men in scorn ! 
 
 For God remembereth thy boast: 
 Thou saidst, 'T will ascend on high. 
 And build my throne amid the sky 
 
 Above Jehovah's starry host." 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. I93 
 
 Thy purpose was to overstride 
 
 The cloudy heights of seraphim, 
 
 And reign confederate with Him 
 Whose years eternally abide. 
 
 But thou art fallen unto night; 
 
 And they who look upon thee there 
 Shall scan thee with a narrow stare, 
 
 As doubting if they see aright; 
 
 And say, "Is this the mighty one 
 Who filled the nations with distress 
 And made the world a wilderness, 
 
 Nor ever let the captive run?" 
 
 Lo, many kings of many lands 
 Sleep grandiose in royal tombs. 
 Nor know amid their tranquil glooms 
 
 The cruel scorn of spoiling hands. 
 
 But thou art cast apart like those 
 Who lie unburied on the field 
 Where all their might and valor reeled 
 
 To death amid triumphant foes. 
 
 Appeal 
 
 Oh that Thou mightest rend the skies, 
 Yea, part the welkin and descend, 
 While all the mountain summits bend 
 
 And melt before Thine awful eyes ! 
 
194 PALESTINA. 
 
 Behold, we are unclean within, 
 
 Our righteous deeds are rags and grime ; 
 
 And like the leaves of winter time 
 We drive before the storms of sin. 
 
 Yea, none invokes Thy mighty name, 
 Or riseth up to crave thy grace ; 
 And thou hast turned away thy face. 
 
 Or answered with consuming: flame. 
 
 Yet Thou art father of us all. 
 
 And rulest man with perfect sway; 
 Thou art the maker, we 4;he clay. 
 
 And thou canst bid us stand or fall. 
 
 Remember not our deeds of ill. 
 
 And be not angry very sore; 
 
 Though justice slay us evermore. 
 Behold, we are Thy children still. 
 
 Our hallowed city is destroyed, 
 Our fathers' land a desert land ; 
 Yea, Zion's broken turrets stand 
 
 In regions desolate and void. 
 
 Our beautiful and holy fane. 
 
 Where Judah worshipped thee of old. 
 We saw its golden cloisters rolled 
 
 In flamings, while we wept in vain. 
 
 Wilt Thou forget our many tears ? 
 
 Wilt Thou forego Thy chastenings? 
 
 Return, O Lord, on mercy's wings. 
 And bring again the gracious years ! 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM, 1 95 
 
 • Hope in Sorrozv. 
 
 Behold me, the man who hath known 
 
 Affliction and scorning; 
 I wander in darkness alone 
 
 And find not the morning. 
 
 The hand of Jehovah is turned 
 
 Against me forever; 
 He heareth me not, he hath spurned 
 
 My prayer and endeavor. 
 
 And yet His compassions are sure 
 
 And new every morrow ; 
 Or how should we ever endure 
 
 The arrows of sorrow? 
 
 Oh, well for a man that he grieve 
 
 While yet he is youthful ; 
 Yea, well that he calmly believe 
 
 In Him who is ruthful. 
 
 He sitteth in silence profound, 
 Rememb'ring his punishment ; 
 
 He boweth his mouth to the ground, 
 Accepting admonishment. 
 
 He giveth his cheek unto him 
 
 Who executes sentence ; 
 His spirit is filled to the brim 
 
 With trustful repentance. 
 
PALESTINA, 
 
 For God will redeem us at last, 
 Though sorely He chasten; 
 
 His anger will quickly be past, 
 His mercies will hasten. 
 
 He hates not the children of dust, 
 To cause them to perish ; 
 
 And though his resentment be just, 
 He yearneth to cherish. 
 
 The Promise. 
 
 elders of a wicked land, 
 
 people born in evil coasts, 
 
 1 weary, saith the Lord of Hosts, 
 Of incense waved by sinner's hand. 
 
 1 weary of the blood of beasts, 
 
 The blackened altars crowned with flame. 
 The loud hosannas to my name, 
 The sabbaths, moons and stated feasts. 
 
 Your lifted hands I hold abhorred, 
 So full are they of blood and snares ; 
 Yea, when ye make your many prayers, 
 
 I will not hear them, saith the Lord. 
 
 Behold, your land is desolate. 
 
 Your cities crumbled, wall and tower ; 
 The stranger sits within your bower 
 
 And eats the fruit your fathers ate. 
 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 1 9/ 
 
 Go wash you ; make you white as snow ; 
 
 Forsake your refuges of hes ; 
 
 Deal justly; hear the widow's cries; 
 Console the orphan in his woe. 
 
 « 
 Repent ; tread softly ; walk in fears ; 
 
 Pray meekly in your secret place ; 
 
 Seek naught beside your Maker's grace ; 
 And seek that carefully with tears. 
 
 So shall your princes rule anew, 
 Your counsellors arise from death ; 
 I promise it, Jehovah saith. 
 
 And all my promises are true. 
 
 The Revival. 
 
 The Mighty One put forth his hand 
 And bore me to the vale of bones, 
 Uncountable as mountain stones 
 
 And dry as burning desert sand. 
 
 ''O son of man," he said to me, 
 *'Can these be ever made to rise 
 Anew in gracious human guise ?"- 
 
 I answered, 'Tt is known to thee." 
 
 Then bade He, ''Prophesy and say. 
 Arise, O skeletons, and live ; 
 And I, the Maker, I will give 
 
 Again the life I took away." 
 
198 PALESTINA. 
 
 According to His word I cried, 
 Whereon a shaking filled the vale, 
 A tremor dry as rattling hail. 
 
 While murmurs ran from side to side. 
 
 From side to side the murmurs ran. 
 And lo, the bones together drew, 
 Together closed, together grew. 
 
 Till every heap became a man. 
 
 ■ Yea, warriors lay in thousands there. 
 As warriors lie along the field, 
 The stiffened arm within the shield, 
 The visage white, the eyes a-stare. 
 
 Then said He, ''Prophesy again; 
 
 Uplift the hand and prophesy; 
 
 Command the winds of every sky 
 To breathe upon these many slain." 
 
 Thereon I summoned, "Come, O breath! 
 
 From all the sides of heaven, come! 
 
 Inspire the armies of the dumb ! 
 Arouse the companies of death!" 
 
 They stirred ; they lifted up the head ; 
 
 In awful lines of war they stood, 
 
 A mighty, living multitude 
 Who knew not they were ever dead. 
 
 Then said He: ''Thus will I revive 
 The vanished ones of Israel ; 
 Yea, I will gather them from Hell 
 
 And make their verv slain alive." 
 
THE STORY OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 The Return. 
 
 Thus saith the Gracious One : Behold, 
 I bring again my chosen race 
 To find the father's dwelling place 
 
 And rest within the ancient fold. 
 
 I gather them from every land, 
 The hoary sire, the valiant one, 
 The mother and her little son, 
 
 The lame, the blind, a mingled band. 
 
 With supplications, moans and tears, 
 A hallowed, meek array, they come ; 
 And I will lead them to their home 
 
 In ways devoid of snares and fears. 
 
 My holy city shall arise 
 
 Upon the remnant of her wall. 
 And every turret, gate and hall 
 
 Exult anew where ruin lies. 
 
 Thanksgiving, praise and holy song 
 Will echo there; the dulcimer 
 And tabret set the heart astir; 
 
 The dancers wheel in happy throng. 
 
 Her multitude will live anew. 
 
 Her kings revive the perfect days, 
 Her temple ring again with praise. 
 
 Because my promises are true. 
 
200 PALESTINA. 
 
 Re establishment. 
 
 Thus saith the Lord of mercies : Lo, 
 I bring again the captive host 
 Of Judah from the heathen coast 
 
 To build anew the long-ago. 
 
 I wash away their many sins, 
 I pardon every evil thought, 
 Although against my law they wrought 
 
 And pierced my love with keen chagrins. 
 
 The many tribes of earth shall fear 
 Because I lift my children up, 
 Because I fill their humble cup 
 
 So full of comforting and cheer. 
 
 Again, yet once again, this land 
 Of sunny mountain, fruitful vale, 
 Refreshed by humid western gale, 
 
 Yet barren now as desert sand ; 
 
 This ravined land, devoid of life. 
 Will see the shepherd fold his sheep 
 And number them in holy sleep. 
 
 Secure from bloody sons of strife. 
 
 Again, yet once again, this place. 
 
 This Zion, stripped of man and brute. 
 These dwellings desolate and mute 
 
 This temple smitten to its base. 
 
 Shall hear the bridegroom and the bride 
 The gladsome noise of dance and game, 
 The psalm of those who praise my name. 
 
 Because my promises abide. 
 
THE NEW GLORY 
 
The New Glory. 
 
 The Man of Sorrozvs. 
 
 He hath no form nor comeliness 
 Nor beauty in our sinful eyes ; 
 We look upon him and despise 
 
 A visage marred by long distress. 
 
 A man of sorrows, known to grief, 
 We would not take him into grace ; 
 We hid our faces from his face. 
 
 And when he pleaded we were deaf. 
 
 We thought him stricken of the Lord ; 
 
 We judged him worthy taunt and blow ; 
 
 Yet surely he had borne our woe 
 And been because of us abhorred. 
 
 For our transgression was He slain, 
 And bruised for our iniquity ; 
 Because of Him we do not die. 
 
 Nor suffer any stripe of pain. 
 
 Like foolish sheep we went astray, 
 
 We wandered each his wayward path; 
 But He alone endured the wrath 
 
 Of Him who hates the sinner's way. 
 
204 PALESTINA. 
 
 Afflicted, smitten, bleeding, torn, 
 He opened not his mouth to weep. 
 But patient suffered Uke the sheep 
 
 Who moaneth not when he is shorn. 
 
 Because He gave his soul to death. 
 Because he bare the sins of earth. 
 The world at last shall know his worth 
 
 And praise Him to its latest breath. 
 
 The Fathers. 
 
 The time would fail to tell of those 
 
 Who wrought the wondrous deeds of faith; 
 Who kept their crowns despite of skaith, 
 
 And ran their course through many woes ; 
 
 Who quenched the violence of fire, 
 
 And 'scaped the sharpness of the sword ; 
 Who turned to flight the alien horde. 
 
 And quelled th'e lion in his ire; 
 
 Of mothers who received their dead, 
 Through fervent prayer, to life again; 
 Of men who suffered mortal pain. 
 
 Nor ever for deliverance plead; 
 
 Or those who fronted scourge and scorn 
 And biting bonds without regret, 
 Because their holy thoughts were set 
 
 Upon the resurrection morn ; 
 
THE NEW GLORY. 20$ 
 
 AVhile others, hunted, destitute. 
 Sought refuges in mountain caves. 
 Or found their nameless, noble graves 
 
 Among the coverts of the brute ; 
 
 Unspotted souls of whom the earth 
 Was undeserving, though they strove 
 To lift it on their mighty love 
 
 And give its dust some little worth. 
 
 All these, whose gracious names endure, 
 Saw not the Christ that we haVe seen, 
 But kept their hallowed hope serene 
 
 Because they held the promise sure. 
 
 The Heralds. 
 
 I saw the seraph seven who stand 
 Before the awful throne of light, 
 Each one arrayed in blinding white, 
 
 Each one a trumpet in the hand. 
 
 An eighth beside the altar came 
 And waved a golden censer high. 
 Whose incense sweetened all the sky. 
 
 As though the sun were fragrant flame. 
 
 Therewith he offered up the prayers 
 
 Of that innumerable throng 
 
 Who fought against the sires of wrong 
 And quelled the princes of the airs. 
 
206 PALESTINA. 
 
 Next, taking from the altar hearth 
 
 A censer full of ruddy fire, 
 
 He lifted it in holy ire 
 And cast it o'er the trembling earth. 
 
 Then lightnings every whither went. 
 Incessant thunderings were hurled, 
 And earthquakes tottered round the world, 
 
 While answered voices of lament. 
 
 Thereon the herald seven arose 
 
 And blew their trumpets one by one. 
 Fulfilling earth and moon and sun 
 
 With desolations, dooms and woes ; 
 
 Till presently, on sea and shore. 
 Another angel stood alone, 
 Who pointed to the judgment throne 
 
 And swore that time should be no more. 
 
 The Golden City. 
 
 The elder firmament and earth 
 Had passed away in awful flame ; 
 Thereon another welkin came, 
 
 Another world received its birth. 
 
 Then, looking up, I saw descend 
 The Golden City, strong and high, 
 Yet clear as crystal to the eye. 
 
 Transparent gold from end to end. 
 
THE NEW GLORY. 20/ 
 
 Its walls were jasper, standing on 
 A plinth of onyx, chrysolite. 
 Of jacinth, beryl, sapphire bright, 
 
 Sard, amethyst and chalcedon. 
 
 From pearly portals argentine 
 Immeasurable streets unrolled. 
 With pavements wrought of solid gold, 
 
 Yet amber-clear like golden wine. 
 
 No temple was there in the place. 
 
 No heavenly luminary shone; 
 
 The fane thereof is God alone, 
 The sun thereof, Jehovah's face. 
 
 Then, far above all mortal ken, 
 I heard a mighty voice proclaim: 
 "Forever holy be His name! 
 
 God Cometh down to dwell with men. 
 
 "He comes to wipe away their tears. 
 
 To give the stricken ones relief ; 
 
 Yea, death shall be no more, nor grief, 
 Nor any mourning, pain, or fears." 
 
 Then God upon His throne replied: 
 
 "Behold I make creation new ! 
 
 These promises are faithful true; 
 So write, and let my words abide!" 
 
208 PALESTINA. 
 
 The White Robed. 
 
 I saw in wonder-dreams of slumber 
 A mighty, mingled multitude 
 Of every region, tongue and brood, 
 
 Too infinite for man to number. 
 
 With waving palms, arrayed in brightness. 
 And sounding golden harps, they choired 
 Round One, in jasper bloom attired. 
 
 Who sate a throne of blinding whiteness. 
 
 Then spake an elder clothed in glory: 
 
 "What men are these in robes of snow?" 
 I answered : "How may sinner know ? 
 
 Thou knowest, Lord, their hallowed story." 
 
 He said : "Behold the sons of noyance 
 Who kept the faith in weary stress. 
 Nor ever trusted God the less 
 
 Because they found no earthly joyance; 
 
 "Wherefore the gracious One, the tender 
 Redeemer, wiped away their tears, 
 And lifted them to astral spheres 
 
 To share His perfect love and splendor." 
 
1 
 
Vet. 9 4,19* 
 
W^ 1902 
 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 005 907 993 1