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"There was a meaning and a purpose in each of its seven branches, and such a candlestick cannot be lost forever/' The Marble Faun, CONTENTS The Sacred Fire 11 Daybreak 27 Mid-morning 43 Noon 59 Western Windows 75 Eventide 91 The Perfect Light 107 THE SACRED FIRE I A poet heard, one happy summer day, A tender maiden speaking low and sweet, And, caring only that he might obey. Plunged deep into the waters at her feet. Where, in the slime of ages long since dead. He found a lamp of tawny, twisted gold. And, bearing it aloft above his head, He pleaded that its story should be told. But lo ! she only turned her radiant eyes Upon the distance where the Holy Land Rested at peace beneath the peaceful skies. Nor touched the treasure in his eager hand, — Then breathed upon him, ''Who enthralls the night, Of his own spirit must control the light." 13 II If it were but a dream he never knew When afterwards he Uved the time again ; But from that hour his highest purpose grew To finer feehng for the needs of men. The virgin metal beaten from the soul Of God's own workman lifted out and up On each good branch its consecrated bowl, — And his the task to fill each wondrous cup. For he had wandered through the wilderness, And through the desert had been curtained in ; In many a temple he had knelt to bless The boundless love that triumphs over sin ; Nor would he ever spare the purest oil That he had pressed from out the heart of toil. 15 Ill He read once more, as on the sacred page, The mystic meaning of the deathless fire That blent into the Christly heritage In full fruition of the world's desire ; And slowly tracing through the eastern lands The flame that burnt with such transcendent power, The faith that blossomed for its deep demands Burgeoned again into more perfect flower. And every flower in turn, transformed to flame, Illumined every heaven-lifted dome That, bravely buih upon the mighty Name, Upheld the glory of eternal Rome, — Then fixed a path upon the circling seas, Forever leading unto wider ministries. 17 IV The life that holdeth love a thing apart From any slightest labor must disclose The utter weakness of the rarest art Its dearest aspiration ever knows. Who does not give in constant sacrifice The buoyant blood that courses through his veins Has less than naught for all his best emprise In righteous ruling of his utmost pains. For without love no worthy work may be, And without death creative power were done ; Herein there lies all happy victory, And here all growth and gladness are begun. Cast in a mould beyond a fleck or flaw, 'T is only love that can fulfill the law. 19 And even as the majesty of day Gives to the v^orld a part of every hue The sun has braided in each royal ray, So love to many a chord must e'er be true. Surely it sifts its life and loveliness From every turn and tint of circumstance^ Nor leaves the purity it would express To any shadow of untoward chance ; But never wearied in its patient quest, It searches out its own high destiny, And by the truth made wholly manifest, It gains the touch of perfect liberty. What seeming good shall ever be denied. The freedom of the spirit must abide. 21 VI What endless lines of beauty curve about The central force that doth all things create ! What splendid color, woven in and out, Imbues the wonder of the earth's estate ! And, ever widening to the reverent hand, What deep dominion lies in human skill Exalted, step by step, to understand Some little measure of the sovereign will ! From round to round the sweet, triumphant breath Inspires the humblest craft and highest art ; The greatest word a mighty poet saith Finds in the lowliest life a certain counterpart. So be that it is good when it be done, All work is beautiful, all beauty one. 23 VII And thus my poet mused, his ripening thought Reaching into the changing harmony Whereby the changing centuries are taught How days long done are linked with days to be. The Voice that throbbed across the formless deep, Setting the shining spheres in ordered space, Must speak forever in the precious sweep W^here wandering souls are given primal place. And with the burden of a glad new song Upon his ready lip he went his way, His spirit lifted all serene and strong Unto the splendor of a vast new day. And whoso rightly heareth shall behold The light that burns within the lamp of gold. 25 DAYBREAK I When first I felt the wonder drawing near 'T was when, a helpless alien, all alone, I bent my head beneath the dark and fear That pressed upon me from the great unknown. There was no thought of any light to be In all the limits of the brooding night ; No glimmer in the dense obscurity To give the slightest hope of surer sight. Yet even as the motionless profound Was moved to meet the first transcendent day. My soul was stirred within its deadening round. In dim desire of some superior sway, — And then the word spake through me from afar, And stayed the shadows with a silver bar. 29 II And, slowly wakened to the broadening line That slowly cleft the smothering mist in twain, My senses came a little to define The earth and sky in half-considered gain ; Then, with the flushing heavens bent to me. And some strong certainty beneath my feet, I turned my face full on the mystery, — My poet's music sweeter and more sweet, — For, once aware, in my great impotence. Of rhythm and of courage, all my heart Yearned forth beneath the mystic Where and Whence, The How and Why that measure life and art. And dreamed of curious questions one by one. Had not the dreaming dawn for once begun ? 31 Ill blessed wonderings of the blessed time When life looks out upon the rose and gray That hold the secret of a perfect prime Folded within the promise of the day ! When life looks out, and all its ignorance Is like all knowledge in the endless space That may not feel the wavering touch of chance In any realm of its unmeasured grace. The buoyant breath of universal air To every throbbing thought makes due reply ; And throbbing thought, in its unfretted care. No marvel in the meaning can deny ; And, working out the forces of new birth, The heights and depths reveal their matchless worth. 33 IV No wonder when the dayspring from on high Descended on the weary sons of men The angels chanted in the kindhng sky Such joyous chorus over and again, Since every daybreak, in some certain sense, The splendor of that morning should unfold In tender glimpses of omnipotence Beyond the filmy veil of gray and gold ; And every spirit that should come to see Its own great gift of gladness in the light Should join the deep, encircling harmony In freedom from the subtle bonds of night. And dark and dawn, forever reconciled. Should mirror forth the glory of the Child. 36 'T was well for me that on that precious morn When heaven and my poet found me out, And to myself my nobler self was born Beyond the power of questioning or doubt, I was a child in body as in heart, With radiant reaches of my time to grow. And, stretching up, absorbed my little part Of all my little world rejoiced to show. And yet I knew not anything was small. For, looking through so sweet an atmosphere, The widest portals opened at my call. And mighty mysteries came close and clear, And all the royal heralds of the sun Brought me their boundless treasures one by one. 37 VI The after years hold nothing half so sweet As this first conscious turning toward the hills. And first discoveries so fair and fleet Among the shining fields of daffodils ; No after song-search may at all compare, However fortunate the soul may be, With this first sense that all the ambient air Is filled with song but waiting to break free ; — When budding life breathes in on every hand, The life and love of stone and stream and flower, And grows, not knowing how to understand, Into some likeness of creative power, — Careless of words, but reaching for the tone Made through the ages for its very own. 39 VII In such delight and fertile eagerness, My sovereign singer, I reached forth at length Thy miracle within me to express, In timid test of all my utmost strength ; But all my efforts only could repeat The magic measures I had learned of thee, — Gould only take thy rhythm to complete My broken thread of groping melody. Yet, breathing over each beloved line. And shaping every note in reverent rote, I came, in sudden greatness, to define The power and purpose of thy leading note ; And then my heart leapt out free as a bird — I too should sing, — and, singing, should be heard ! 41 MID-MORNING I He values freedom most who once hath been Deprived of his accustomed hberty ; And when my stupid teachers shut me in, The outer world was everything to me. To follow round the wearisome routine Of tedious lessons that were never done Inspired the morning with a dazzling sheen It only knew when lessons were begun ; The sunny sweetness of the beaten way By which I reached betimes my prison door Was ne'er so sweet as when its bright array Thro' troubled texts shone brighter than before, And painted over every tiresome task The rarest pictures human heart could ask. 45 II How good it was beneath the mounting morn To loiter past the hazel thicket where The baby nuts in such green growth were born And hid away with such especial care ! And then to lean against the ancient elm That always watched my journeys to and fro, And, looking upward, find the fairy realm That only birds and children ever know ! Or, stretched full length upon the mossy ground. Where fringing fern so tenderly uncurled. How dear it was to catch the elfin sound That sometimes echoes from the under-world, And learn the secrets of the quiet nook So fondly cherished by the faithful brook ! 47 Ill Oh, sweeter far than flute or flageolet That ever caught the breath of Arcady, The silver stream at every turn was set To some new phase of liquid harmony ; And when I crossed the shining stepping-stones, The magic music, slipping slowly past, Wove such a web of soft, enchanting tones It could not fail to hold me safe and fast ; Nor could I fail to give back song for song In murmurous croonings 'neath the happy spell, Forgetting that I still must fare along Until I heard the master's brazen bell. What poor exchange for wood and stream and sky. The utmost skill that he might hope to try ! 49 IV How great a puzzle that the lettered lines Upon one page make only puzzles clear, While through another all the sunlight shines, And marshaled ranks of poetry appear. But whoso follows, though with lagging feet, The mighty music of the mighty host In every problem finds a rhythmic beat. And hardly knows which reading means the most. And so I came, because my poet willed. To see how God's two worlds together grow — The springing fountain must be wholly filled Before the grateful waters overflow ; The poorest master then had learned to teach Some bit of beauty that I longed to reach. 61 From book to book, like some quick honey-bee That flits all day from flower to fresher flower, I dipped into each wondrous treasury, And gathered sweetness with unwearied power. The wildest weed and fairest garden-rose Gave forth the bounty of the summer sun ; Impassioned rhyme and cultivated prose — All sorts of blossoming — to me were one. And so I built from cell to golden cell, Scarce conscious of the swarming human hive Where countless other creatures stored as well The same delight in everything alive. Is not the nectar of the dear unknown Most deeply generous when sipped alone ? 68 VI To feel the joy of effort more and more, To gleam and glow with iridescent thought, In very gladness opens wide the door Upon the selfish hoard so sweetly sought. But none may enter in who does not share His own attainments to the last degree, — Such interchange hath everything to spare And everything to keep most sacredly. And when I found a bright prophetic face Impressed with all I meant some time to know, I could not hide the slightest gift or grace That in my solitude had charmed me so, — No matter what ambition may bestir, Love is the only true interpreter. 55 VII Together — the dear, dehcious word — We pressed upon the smihng universe, Uniting all that we had seen and heard Like golden coin within a common purse; Together cast a splendid horoscope, Each for the other in our eager pride. Nor ever dreamed the most ethereal hope Too frail or fair to be a proper guide. And so each forward step in our emprise Brought such increasing wonder and acclaim. We knew that we might lift our favored eyes To any height that we should chance to name, And every marvel of the precious time I fashioned over into precious rhyme. 57 NOON I As when a happy mocking-bird essays To imitate amid the forest choir The rarest and most varied roundelays In very overflow of glad desire, My joyous verse attempted many a strain In likeness of the world's great minstrelsy, Nor counted any cost that might attain The skill that lies in such dear mimicry. But while the bird, despite its borrowing, Perfects the beauty of its own sweet song, 'T was such device that taught me how to sinj And how to listen to the gifted throng, — And though I tried so much without avail, I felt the force that cannot wholly fail. 61 II How can I ever pay the debt I owe To that high company whose royal line Upgathers every thought that life can know In harmony so deep and so divine ? How shall I prove me worthy of the love That lifted me into the radiant sphere, And placed within my hands the keys thereof As one ordained for vision free and clear? love, my Love, and love of poetry. Although thy largess hath no measurement. There is no debt that can be due to thee Save poetry and love in full content ; But no one can fulfill his dearest vow Without the double seal upon his brow. 63 Ill The poet's question and its sure reply In the beginning gave my quickened touch The strength my Love was quickest to descry, Rejoicing that it promised me so much. And wrapped so close in love I could not guess Between the two great masters of my heart, That either was the greater or the less, Until the world began to praise my art. Then I was certain that my verse should take The noblest that was in me hour by hour, And even love, for its surpassing sake, Should sacrifice all claim upon my power, — Could any consecration e'er abide That did not thrust the inmost self aside ? 65 IV Who has not journeyed in the pride of youth Amid the perils of a mountain track, Where but a step, regardless of the truth, Would quench all hope in some abysmal wrack? And thus I traveled on my chosen height Along the dreadful verge of self-deceit, Veiled in vain-glory from the gracious light That God had sent to guide my wayward feet. And, hastening on, mv danofer unconfessed, I trembled o'er the chasm of despair, Until love drew me back upon its breast, And gave me new belief and courage there. And loving my dear Love so much the more, I loved my art still better than before. 67 This love of ours was no exotic bloom, Though all so rare in every tint and vein ; No gorgeous growth freighted with dense perfume, Perfected through imprisoned heat and rain ; It was the flowering of the out-door air, The common soil, and cool, caressing dew, — The simple bounty of the heavenly care. And fraught with heavenly odors through and through. Its rootlets struck so deep into the mold. That every finest fiber found the heart Wherein the hidden springs of life unfold, And burgeon out in endless counterpart ; And, facing up before the searching sun, It touched its high commissions one by one. 69 VI To give again all that it ever knows Through earth and sky in calyx-cup and seed,— The purpose of the humblest flower that grows Must be the spirit of the highest creed ; And our great love in no wise could forget How wide a service in our boundary Demanded that its marvels should be met For every gift with utmost ministry. Art could be great only as love revealed The truth triumphant and the sacred way, And most exalted love were half-concealed Only as art should perfectly obey. With such a message always to repeat What inflorescence were so passing sweet ? 71 VII As one who is anointed from on high For every holy issue made for men, For love and labor in untold supply, I set me to my singing once again. The wondrous work had fully chosen me Beyond all question or remotest doubt, And I could only fashion fearlessly What life and love together pointed out. So, like the Sibyl at her wave-washed door, Who cast her countless leaves upon the wind, Freely I flung abroad my gathering store For any needful traveler to find, — When all the mid-day burns so crystal-pure The slightest utterance is strong and sure. 73 WESTERN WINDOWS I The gladdest singer voices many a strain, Beneath the anguish sobbing through the world, That feels the impress of the sacred gain Within the heart of grief so purely pearled. He cannot rightly gauge the major chords That measure out his own great happiness, Without the minor meaning that affords The fullest force to all he would express. But though he touches every precious note His art demands for perfect harmony, The sweetest song that pulses from his throat Only defines the singer's sympathy, — He may not reach the poet's highest grace Till he has stood with Sorrow face to face. 77 II I told myself the truth, divining how The life about me found its finest tone Within the beauty of the holy vow The spirit makes through suffering alone. To sing my joy were service far too small, When grief demanded comfort everywhere, — What could avail unless I too should fall Into the deeps and learn to triumph there? I thought my strength sufficient to endure The keenest trial known to human heart. Nor felt my calling could be really sure Till pain had purged the dross from out my art, But when the moment of my trial came Only the common weakness met the flame. 79 Ill How could I know the swift-descending fire Would kindle all about the golden shrine Where I had heaped the fruits of glad desire Withholding nothing in my rare design? How could I see, so suddenly bereft, The hand of mercy in the cruel loss, Or feel that any slightest hope were left Beneath the burden of so great a cross ? And so, forgetting Christ had gone before Along the crowded way to Calvary, My stricken soul but questioned more and more How it could live through such deep agony, — How should the mother-heart be comforted. If all its highest quickening were dead ? 81 IV dear Strong-Heart, how had I ever kept The feeblest faith but for thy steadfast hold Upon the surety I had most bewept As thrusting me away from its fair fold ? 1 had not come in my distress to prove The precious power I could not hope to reach, When through the glass of our transcendent love I sought so much of heavenly grace to teach. I had but touched upon the boundless sphere Of God's compassion, measured from our own. Nor felt my straitened spirit draw so near The sacred source of all that we had known ; Oh, but for thee, this righteous chastening Had well destroyed the least desire to sing ! 83 The fiercest storm that sweeps across the land, Blotting the glory from the summer skies, Unfolds new leaves of love on every hand All richly charactered for chosen eyes. And when the conquering sun shines forth again, As if he were rejoicing through and through. The endless service of the wind and rain From breadth to breadth expands before the view ; Then heaven and earth unitedly reveal Such wondrous depths of God's encirchng care That all the depths beyond can scarce conceal The fuller revelation other- where ; No longer holden, I had come to see What all the strain and stress had done for me. 85 VI I looked abroad into the broadening west As I had looked into the growing morn, Eager to make the promise manifest Enfolded in the beauty yet unborn. Yet with the wonder of the early day I had the touch of every passing hour, And every messenger that came my way Had given me some portion of his dower. Both good and ill, but always inmost good. Had shaped me ready for my grave new birth, And in my grave new joy I understood What worlds of rhythm bind us to the earth, — The lark that soars upon the highest round. Still keeps its nesting-place upon the ground. 87 VII The heavenly chrism fresh upon my head, And every power renewed in quickened trust, I could but follow where the spirit led. And simply sing whatever song I must. I could but share, as in the mid-day glow, The dearest forces throbbing to my hand ; But I had come by so much more to know The wider issues waiting my demand, — By so much more, that every thread of thought My larger purpose loyally defined. In all the shining reaches that I sought Held me the nearer to all human kind ; And more and more the words I found to speed Were drawn from out the depths of human need. EVENTIDE I Why should it be when one has barely come To find the forces that he may command, That his dear day completes its largest sum Within the darkness creeping o'er the land ? Why should the warning come so soon, so soon, That all his bravest work must change and pass, And but the margin of the afternoon May be reflected from his finest glass ? The spirit falters 'neath the sinking sun, But whoso reads himself and God aright Must know that even when the day is done He still may grasp new measures of delight, — That all his strength may haply be more strong As moved upon by some great even-song. 93 II How sweet the shadows are that softly close Upon the shifting boundaries of the world Against the gonfalons of gold and rose Through all the sky so wondrously unfurled ! How fair and free the countless banners float, Borne onward in their royal pageantry, Till every hill and plain, howe'er remote. Thrills back the sense of some new harmony ! And when the glory fades amid the hush That deepens downward with the deepening mist. The dreams of men take on the morning flush That shimmers through the evening amethyst. Only the blessed child may enter in The kingdoms where the heavenly powers begin. 95 Ill ''What matter if the earth grow less and less," My heart repeated in a glad refrain, ' ' When such a revelation can express The fulness of such far exceeding gain?" All I had ever known or felt before Of truth or fealty or transcendent toil, Appeared to me a new-created store Upspringing from a new-created soil ; Yet all I was and all I yet might be Was holden by the world's unbroken claim, I could not draw the breath of liberty Save in the service it should chance to frame, — With every fiber of the soul's increase Some new demand requires the touch of peace. 97 irfiatfi H IV I felt myself encompassed by a cloud Of shining witnesses for love and truth, In life-long mysteries that breathed aloud The blessed surety of eternal youth. The tender tones that tremble o'er the line Where silence waits upon the shores of sound Filled all my thought with music so divine Utmost desire no further could abound. And with my sacred joy I marveled much That any human heart had ever heard The dull half-notes that my imperfect touch Had ventured forth as my expressive word, — So small my labor seemed, so large the sphere Where heaven and earth as blent in one appear. 99 loyal Love, whatever may betide The simple song that means so much to me, What guerdon may be given or denied, Still every chord is true as truth to thee ; It still responds to that great over-love Which from the first has prompted all my quest. And, knowing this, how should we care to prove By praise or blame what may be worst or best? Yet with the sweet assurance and content That good work brings throughout the busy day, 1 could but feel the forces still unspent. And press more earnestly upon my way. But with the very most my love could do. To thee, Love, it still were only true. 101 VI I well remember once when we had read How every spoken word that men might share Can never be as lost or void or dead, But lives forever in the moving air, — How long we questioned if the careless tones That we sent forth should circle round again. And if we should escape the playful moans We mingled with the speech we uttered then. But now the echoes whispering far and near Brought back so much of my poor melody, Through every change I could not help but hear The lingering burden of its varied key, — And then I knew that no one might evade The slightest winged note he had betrayed. 303 VII Thanks be to God whose all-sufficient grace Inspires the faint beginning with the end : His mercy does not ask us to replace The broken chords no human power can mend ; But note by note he leads us surely on, And fashions all our effort to the plan Whereby the summits of eternal dawn Are lifted over every bar and ban. And so I sung the wider, freer hope That stretched away before my raptured sight,— Sung all I fathomed in the boundless scope That lay beyond the borders of the night; For I had found, with naught to intervene, The mighty rhythm of the vast serene. 105 THE PERFECT LIGHT I As day to day proclaims its tender speech, And nisfht to night its knowled2;e doth declare, The gift of Hfe can never fail to reach The kindred life created otherwhere. The living word speeds onward to its own, Nor stops for any guerdon or reply, Content to feel in every slightest tone The beauty and delight that never die. And so the singer who restored in song The sacred symbol of the heavenly fire. And those who come its marvels to prolong. Are linked forever in the one desire ; For God and man and music yet to be Have wrought upon their inmost harmony. 109 II Who seeks the source of song must look to Him In whom all rhythm and response are made, — From drifting dust to chanting cherubim Who sight his face serene and unafraid ; The One who was before the worlds could swing In their completion round the central sun Inspired the touch that countless eons bring To frame the inspiration just begun ; And through the ages every quickening strain That echoes through the rarest works of men Has found the self-same glory to attain, Repeated over ever and again : All that is good or true in any wise Only through Him receives its radiant guise. m Ill I wonder who in some transcendent time Shall read the story of our wondrous race, And measure forth the full prolific rhyme That waits upon the truth we cannot trace. We only glimpse the bright, unbroken thread That reaches from the first resultant power Through all the forces that have surely led Into the largess of the passing hour ; But when the sense of some surpassing seer Awakens in the world's supreme advance, Then all the splendid purpose shall appear That overrules the meanest circumstance, And men shall fathom out the blessed way That treasures up its gold in such poor clay. 113 IV Whatever beauty this dear life may see In full expression of divine intent, From first to last its matchless poetry Reflects the Christ in every element. What precious art found fruitage in the earth Before the dayspring touched the weary sky, Its ministry was guided in the worth The Son of God illumined from on high. And since he drained the sacrificial cup, Utmost humanity at last complete. Whatever loveliness is lifted up Bears out the mission of the Paraclete. The comfort and the joy and deep acclaim Attest the spirit of the cloven flame. 115 thou Great Love wherein all other love Must find the secret of its farthest sphere, The least adventure were enough to prove The need of love too great for any fear. And thy majestic work in shaping out Such royal profit for the heart of man Fulfills the freedom that is borne about The endless growth of his appointed plan. Thy tender touch hath set no metes or bounds Save its own law in any soul or sense, — No limit holds the promise that surrounds The imagery of thy omnipotence ; And love begetting love, it shall define From step to step its uttermost design. U7 VI Some things there be upon this sounding shore Where music makes such endless mysteries That have no measure in our deepest lore For any phase of their glad harmonies. But faith and feeling through the sacred tide Have no despair or danger of eclipse, Though every word may haply be denied That might affirm the great apocalypse ; And when the happy hope has passed the bar That holds it here from its supernal joy, No melody can be too fine or far For its unfettered forces to employ; The vision and the voice shall then essay All that the earthly form could not convey. U9 VII The end of song and its supreme delight, The end of life and its remotest art, Are given forth when life and song unite In keeping with the heavenly counterpart. When human love completes the shining round That love's divinity has breathed upon. And through the white effulgence God is found Blending the beauty of celestial dawn ; Then life and love together shall behold, As born anew within their vast estate. Their larger labor fitted to the mould That most exalted effort shall create, — And more and more the singer shall abide Whom love and life have wholly satisfied. 121 !;.» 'ii'^m.:r:^ii:u.rjXK^ ■t] M^^ri' :*Ik "Mfrr j*rj; 'M^ ^^V'^•fi^•• 's^Tfr^ 1 '^^ r«.