\'ii-L Class IE Book^ C)opy]iglit}J"-B^?^ CQEffUGHT OEPOSeC I MY GARDEN OF VERSE By GRETCHEN LEWIS COURTNEY PUBLISHED BV GILES C. COURTNEY BICHMOND, VA. Copyright, 1922 by Gretchen Lewis Courtney XU602e44 DEC 30 '22 SONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS Songs (he Spirif Sii)(i.s — echoes of light — What ecstasy rings in their genius and might; Borne out of the ether, cradled in thought; In silence they enter the soul and are wrouglit. To a lass whoso failli in a slender talent was my spur, and to a knight whose service of love with skilful hands made thi^ little volume possible. O N G »S THE S P I E I T SING MY GARDEN OF VERSE MY GARDEN Out in the cool of my garden silence My thoughts, unleashed, leap up and on. No jarring note nor mortal nearness To consciously direct their course. I'Vom subterranean depths of memory Spontaneously a golden stream Winds in and out of tlowers and grasses, Paints pictures that the sky reflects, Leaves jewels in the tangled masses. Etches trees with leaves of lace, Floods the soul with inspiration Found in solitude sublime — A nature's Trinity unsullied Combined in Go.l and love and mind. SONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS BEAUTlFrL TiioraiiTs Dedicated to Woodrow irHsoii Beautiful thoughts from the minds of men Speed straight to God and He blesses tlieni Ere they come like the sun and the fragrant rain To warm and refresh us again and again,. Such thoughts are flowers, and their costly seed Are nurtured in hearts that ache and bleed With the woes of the world and the sorrows of life, With the burdens' of others, the stress and the strife ; Till out of it all bursts the soul that lives. Strengthens and grows, blossoms and gives; Till the stalk IxMids down and sleeps 'neath the sod To awaken at last in the image of God. AS A MAN THINKETH "Touch not mine anointed," But thine own cup cleanse, And deep within its shining lens Thou soon shalt see reflected there Thy Brother's s'oul with beauty rare. Do we crush the rose because of the thorn? Or rail at the night that follows the morn? Love lifts the heart and faith the soul ; Doubt chokes the will, the way, the goal. Pluck out the beam that makes thee blind If thou wouldst help another find The tiny mote that floats away "When perfect love shines as the day. SONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS TO AN OLD WEDDING RING Oh, littk' treasured circlet, What memories you hold Of love and faitli and constancy Within vuur virtfin t;old. A talisman so piecious, So fragile, old and rare; The glory of your beauty Eternally you wear. What a wealth of bliss you fettered; What happy hearts you bound; What joyous- hopes and blessings \Vithin two lives you wound. You are a byg-om^ relic, A sweet and tender thing; A cherished gift, an amulet — An old, worn wedding ring. Though thin and pale from wear and age Your nu\ssage still you bear. Lettered deep inside your rim, A poem and a prayer. "Mizpah," that magic word of yore, The years have loved so well. Will live and shine from age to age. And love's sweet srtorv tell. SONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS TO WALLER Beyond the trees there's a silver sea And my heart holds the gold of the sun, For my little pal has come back to me With his riot of laughter and fun. The breezes are having their autumn meet, While the glowing leaves scamper with joy ; They echo the gladness far down in the street Of a rollicking dear little boy. Vacation is o'er and books, laid away, Have been gathered again in a pack For little brown hands to carry each day Along the old beaten track. The lessons' of life and the visions they give Must breathe of God's own great love, For the soul of a child was created to live And its heart was a gift from above. So my prayers arc winging away to the skies And my hopes are singing with glee For my dear little pal with the handsome eyes Ay he dances back home to me. S0NG8 THE SPIRIT SINGS A DESECRATED FRIENDSHIP I loved aiul lost you, Linda, But iu the uiehe I held \Yirhin my heart to shrine you there An angel I beheld, I prayed and plead with this fair one To bring- you back to me. Alas. I eannot, cried my guest, Thy i'l'iend rejected thee. I've come to give thee comfort And teach the faith that heals The wounds that men leave gaping AYlien envy conscience steals. Earthly idols do not hold, But as they fall away A light appears- to lead us up Where love shines as the day. Where moth and rust do not corrupt, Nor thieves break through nor steal; Where treasures old and new are kept. Their beauties unrevealed ; T^ntarnished is the casket That holds these gifts so rare, Trar.isligured with immortal life To greet and bles-s us there. 10 SONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS VIA TRITA VIA TUTA Thr Brat r II Path Is the Safe Path Along the years there winds a trail That leads to radiant life. It is the trail the Master blazed Through thorns and blood and strife. It holds a Wilderness of gloom, Geths'emane's sorrow and pain, Calvary's cross — the angry mob, Peter and Judas again, Mary's and Magdalene's grief and loss. The hate of a world of sin Too hardened to see the light ahead And the Christ who enters in. To the fullness of a perfect life He won for the thief at His side And pleads to bestow on you and me At this glorious Eastertide. 11 bONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS TO II. B. S. "And a little child ft ; Wisdom and sense; a straiglit, slender I'or A vision — an ideal of real girlish charm. m 16 SONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS KISSES THREE Kisses three to my darling ] jjrive. And the tenderness they inspire Keep them as pure as an angel's song. Or the gleam of a vestal fire — The Good-bye Kiss wheji I say farewell. To ansAver the woild's many calls; The Twilight Caress when the shadows tell I'm hastening huek home to my love. Then under a rose-covered gateway, Or treading a moonlighted lea ; Or perhaps in a hammock just swinging; Or maybe she's smiling at me; When I feel surging up in my being A love so mighty and deep I pray God to ever be worthy Such affection to cherish and keep. The clasp of her hand is a solace; The tone of her voice is a song; The glow in her eyes is a poem Where silent thoughts linger and throng; And when all this womanly sweetness Best-owsl her rare graces on me There's a splendor of light in the kiss that I win Ne'er seen on land or sea. 17 SONGS THE SPIRIT SINGS SOME WEDDING TOASTS (To the Bride) To the sweet, quaint bride-elect I drink, And may the strongest, loveliest link That binds her heart to another's tight Be the circle she wears on her wedding night. God bless and keep you what you are So sweet, so fine, so true; J\lay you ever be the guiding star Of the life that's dear to you. Here's to a pretty girl. Here's to a priceless pearl, Here's' to her future life, Here's to God's sunshine. Here's to the marriage lines, Here's to a rare, s'weet wife. (To the Groom) May fate deal with you always As she did some years ago, When she kindly marked you as the man Whose answer was not "No." Here's to the love of a brother. Here's to the love of a son. Here's to the love of a lover, And here's to the three in one. I drink to a dear little home nest. And the joy it soon will know"; 1 driidv to the fellow who owns it — A big brave gallant beau. IS 8 O N G S T II IC ;3 P I R ] T « I N G TO MOTHERS To F. L. S. There '.s a beautiful sea of mystery That is never sailed by men ; It's a sea by the heights of Motherhood And it lies beyond their ken. Its ships- are manned with angels Whose smiles of courage keep A host of Mothers safe above Its waters- swift and deep. These angels are the pilots, And the precious freight that lands Upon those shores where life meets death Is lifted in their hands. Sometimes a little life is lost And s-ometimes, sadder still, The Mother Soul drifts out and leaves A void that none can till. Yet legions of these travellers AVho sail this sparkling sea Reach port with hearts and eyes aglow xVnd songs of vie.torv. 19 TALES THAT HUMOR TELLS Taks Tluit Humor Tells may be Tales on you as well as me; So don 't feel sad if here you see One on you instead of me. TALES THAT HUMOR TELLS ONE WAY BACK TO EDEN This world might be a pretty good place To live in and have a soft berth, Tf Adam and Eve had taken "pot luck" At that first meal they had upon earth. Eve must have been setting the table, And waiting for Adam to see The figs and grapes she had fixed on some leaves When Satan hopped out of the tree, And showed her those pretty red apples With wicked and fiendish glee; Offering to give her a big juicy bite Tf she'd only buy one for her mate; When forgetting herself and the tree it hung from She bought their dessert and they ate. So together they fell and together they roam Through a world of suspicion and doubt ; And there's only one way to the Paradise Gate From which they were both driven out. Tt lies "Over There" in the spirit land, Where nothing is sold or bought; Where dollars and cents have never been; Where envy and greed have not fought ; Where silver and gold are free as air, And all men are equal and blest ; Where our cares and our woes all fall away And we lay down our burdens and rest. 23 T A L E ti T H A T H U M O K T E L L £j TO A "WILDCAT" There wa.s a "Doc" in our town, And he was wondrous Avise ; He never told you what you had, Nor listened to your sighs. He let you talk your tool head off, And then he d calmly say : "Don't do this, and don't eat that, And rest three hours each day." His office was a roosting place For every kind of "nut." They took his powders, ate his pills, And liked the cross old "Mutt." Sometimes he got so red and mad, He almost tore his hair, And human nature then beheld A wildcat in his lair. To old folks he was tender, And with children he Avas dear. But on the squealing, idle sort He practiced with a leer. Yet he Avas' busy all the time. And couldn't get aAA'ay To take a rest just once a year And have a holiday. 24 TALES THAT HUMOR TELT-S He was a bright and clever chap ; He joked away one's fears; He bossed and ordered folks around, And laughed at silly tears. Once in awhile he was real nice, And sympathetic, too, With aches and pains, and even "nerves' His patients'' wonder grew. And while you wondered much about His methods rare and queer, This paradox was teaching you To help yourself, my dear. A courage must be fine and strong That dares to act a part, That others may win out and hope ; Look up and make a start. The knife did Jiot appeal to him Unless the case was grave. And nothing else Avas quick enough An ebbing life to save. His name will be emblazoned Down the ages, I'm quite sure, As one whose school of discipline Recorded manv a cure. 25 TALES THAT HUMOR TELLS A VALENTINE THAT MISSED THE MAIL I sing a song- of a newspaper gang, A gang that's hard to beat; They rant and snort and fuss and fight, But somehow fall on their feet. There's Lynn and Potts, Hess and Jones, Bosses of different types; Each thinks' he's "It," so don't wake them up Prom those dreams curling out of their pipes. "Doc" Freeman is a wonder man, With a rich and marvellous mind ; His knowledge is unlimited Of every sort and kind. There's "Cally" with the fertile brain And caustic pen. Oh, Son ! Here's hoping you are not the boob At whom she's poking fun. Among the upstairs union bunch Are many loyal guys, And some are good and clever, With open minds and eyes. 26 T ALES THAT ?I U M O R T E L li S Slaugrhtor is a wizard With wonderful speed and skill, And Mae is' a man with the kind of a job That only a man can fill. Jesse and Walter are good old scouts, And Giles is a smiling chap ; The three are pals and they form a squad Who for camouflage don't care a rap. There are numerous others in this gang, Whose names I can't recall, But ere I lay my pen aside, One more I would extol. lie is the modest, brilliant chief Of all this motley crew — A Christian and a diplomat — A person real and true. Contented to play fair and straight The game of life with men, John Stewart — leader, prince and chief Of all your tribe and ken. 27 '1' A L E S THAT HUMOR T E L Ix S JOURNALISM David was a clever scribe And so was Edmund, too; But David had the kopecJks, And Edmund not a sou ; So all the brains that Edmund had Dave thought he'd like to hire, Provided Edmund would agree To let him pull the wire. So Edmund said: Alright, Old Top, Gadsooks, I '11 let them go ; For what are brains without some coin I'd really like to know? I'll write your views and spill my words; Money's wh£t I'm after; News is what the public wants ; Genius is my grafter. Ideals won't buy auto cars; Visions are gold bricks; Unless I hustle while I dream I'll never take odd tricks. Facts and jokes, truths and lies, Politics, science, creeds Mingle and mould the minds of men ; Prompt their words and deeds. And when we live in a world like this Where nothing talks like cash, A poor guy s'ells most anything To cut his little dash. 28 TALEB THAT HUftlOR TELLb SUMMER, 1921 I'm crazy niit the heat, I am; I'll say I am, Old Sun, So take your rays some seven ways And let us have some fun. For three months you've been on the job, And each day has been hotter, Till I'm disposed to think, Old Slob, You're just a huge "self starter." Your hot old face is quite a bore ; Your blistering glare is bokl ; I'd like to see it rain a month, Then — blessed thought — turn cold. You've scorched and burnt, fried and stewed All nature's garb so green. Men's brains' and thoughts you've melted red — Such nerve has ne'er been seen. Get up behind the clouds, Old Blast, And give the winds a show. The autumn gales are on the way, And I'm darned glad it's so. 29 TALES THAT HUMOR TELLS THE GAME OF LIFE Said a Saint to a Sinner I'll give you a tip fn the game of Life that we play ; While you bid on the Hearts that you hold in your gi'ip. I Avin with No Trumps every day. You stack the deck with cheat and bluff, And steal your tricks with a lie. But in the end my Honor Score Counts up with Aces high. Your fussy partner, Money-Mad Greed, Deals with deceit and s-tealth, E^rgetting the fact that methods like these Are sigiuils of failure and death. The first prize, Virtue, is always mine; The second, Contentment, I get ; But the "booby" you draw, and it's labeled "Despair" — You take it with groans of regret. So in this game of Life, "Old Boy," You are a sorry lout, And bye-and-bye I'll wear a crown When vou are down and out. 30 EAINBOW RAYS OF OTHER DAYS Rainboiv Rays of Other Days On youthful, Mppy hours Leave golden beams across those drcanus Reflecting memory 's flowers. EAINBOW RAYS OF OTHER DAYS 9 EAST GRACE STREET Back over the years I trip with joy To those days that are no more, When my brothers and I played hide and seek In a yard of the long ago. Where today only part of the old house stands, Where we first saw the light of day; Where we romped through the fun of Santa Claus land, And rollicked with laughter and play. AVhere the woman who nurtured and loved us, A mother who was a saint, Sat in the cool of the evening In a garden lovely and quaint. Where her spirit communed with the flowers. And her influence, lofty and fine. Cast a spell o'er the children she fondled. Like music that echoes through time. This old fashioned garden, secluded. With specimens fragile and rare. Was planted and brought to perfection By one whom we called "Grandpere." A fun-loving soul and a doctor; A physician who filled every need ; , A soldier, veteran, author ; A congenial companion, indeed. A botanist, teacher and surgeon, AVhose bills bore the Red Cross? seal ; Whose patients were poor and adored him; Whose wealth was his power to heal. 35 E A I N B O W R A Y b OF O T H E E DAYS There was ivy i'roni Kenilworth Castle In this garden of roses and vines; A trellis, a picturesque bower, Where the Microphylla clustered and twined. A lily nook, sunken and shaded ; High ground, where the tulip beds lay, Where jonquils and starry narcissus Reflected the glory of day. A cold frame, a basement for nurslings. With steps leading down in the ground, Where the Night-Blooming Cereus was guarded, And other exotics were found. The one I remember for beauty AVas exquisitely chiselled and white, But a touch or a breath on its petals Would injure and leave there a blight. Cape Jasmine, odor from Edom; Faultless, but where is it now? Perhaps it has gone wath those gardens, Or just doesn't linger, somehow. W^here nothing seems natural or loving, Like it did in those years long ago. When trysting and romance and gardens Were hallowed and hidden and slow. RAINBOW EAYS OF OTUER DAYb AN IDEAL Give me a thoughtful man, With a face that is honest and strong ; One that will fight for right, And needs none to help him along; One that God fashioned to be — Not perfect — just a man, every inch ; One who never knovv s fear ; Who from duty and work does not flinch ; A man who, when seen in a crowd, A woman instinctively knows Is the one she could trust and believe Through a life of joys or woes. His profile is no artist's dream; Conceited he could not be, Yet among all the handsome men In his face there is more to see. But it rarely appears in this life, Though once in awhile you can, By watching intently discover The face of a real manly man. 37 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER First there was dear old Heiny, When she was sweet sixteen, Just home from "The University," And as handsome as a dream ; They talked and danced and "had it" bad He made the sweetest lover, But she, alas, could not right then The answering spark discover. Of course dear Henry soon found out That there were maids galore, And straightway bowed at other shrines; Oh, but her heart was sore ; Not long, though, for a soldier boy Soon stole it right away ; He was the finest, noblest lad. In Y. M. I. array. Brass buttons, a buckle, letters sweet, Preserved with girlish care, Were happy, cherished relics Of this second love affair. A summons home, a broken date The night they planned to meet, A misunderstanding — then a break — And love made a quick retreat. In after years he made a plea For the love that might have been. Too late, though, for another then Right boldly had stepped in ; He was an athletic man, With shoulders big and grand; He rushed and wooed her gallantly,, And almost won her hand. 38 RAINBOW RAYS OF OTHER DAYS A ring, a locket and other gifts ; Love letters by the .score, And every da}- a little girl Learned to love him more. For two brief happy, golden years The course of love ran .smooth ; Then pride stepped in and parted wide Their lives for aye forsooth. Of minor loves and friends and beaux There were right many, too — On,e Tom, two Franks, Charles, Bob and Jim And, oh, yes, one named Hu — She liked them all, and likes to think, Now that they 're far apart. That each one keeps a thought for her Down somewhere in his heart. The last Prince Charming to appear Is gentle, brave and kind ; Considerate, good with winning ways, And broad, well-balanced mind. He may win out, and if he does I'll tell you why 'twill be — Because he's never loved before. And she? — well, onlv three. 19 It A 1 N li U W BAYS O F OTHER DAYS YESTERDAY AND TODAY Jii boyhood's golden pa.st 1 loved you alone, sweetheart. My hear! was yours to keeji and elaim From all the world apart. No other face smiled in my dreams But yours in the old sweet way ; No soul Avas one in thought Avith mine ; No voice or tone so gay — But that was Yesterday, And this is Today. We talked of love and life Together, just you and J, As we sat in the misty light That flooded the s'ummer sky, Sometimes we were s'ilent, little one, But your hand was in my oAvn, And I felt a thrill of holy love Till then 1 ne'er had known — But that Avas Yesterday, And this is Today. We Avere happy apart from the crowd, An,d you never sought to conceal Your love for me from others, And you neA^er seemed to feel Any lack of admiration From those Avho would fain have been Attentive to you, my darling. Had they thought you were free to win- But that Avas Yesterday, And this is Today. 40 K xV i N B O W K AYS U F O T 11 E j; 1> A V b "Well, we cannot alter fate, Nor keep the past always ; Destiny weaves a thread That saddens those bygone days, When faith and love and joy, Postered by innocent youth, Know no sorrow nor care, When all is beauty and truth — When all our Yesterdyys Hallow Today. You and 1 do not forget That boy and girl affair. Though now you talk to men galore, With a charming naivete air ; You don't avoid the noise and rush Of a crowded ballroom floor ; You divide one waltz into three pans, And find no man a bore. 1, too, am fond of society; I am called a blase man; 1 jolly the youn.g girls a little, And the old folks think 1 am grand I tit in the place I am wanted ; I enjoy life as a whole. At night — alone with my pipe — The rest of my story is told— For th<> love of Yes'terday Haunts me Today. 41 A BIRTHDAY RHYME Many l)right and happy returns Of this day for you, I pray ; Many joys aiul blessing's, dearest To sweeten the hard, rough Avay ; God's richest, choicest gifts surround Your life in flowing measure ; May iiappiness and love abound To give to you their treas'ure ; 1 also ask f<»r you beloved, The strength that makes the soul ; Tlie sweetness of a pure, true heart ; The peace and grace untold. That only Heaven itself can send, When shadows cloud the way. Good angels guard and keep you Forever and — Todav. 42 '"«;. ^"i^3\' ■'^■■'■'^$m'gf^-'i'W'^ / Ml VV\WI|IW' ///4%^/////,J)lllnV\\f\s&r, i LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 905 004 ft Sl^'