Class:£S_iil5_ Book ,1 SljV^ I q 1 GopightN"—: COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. ^p Cl)eotiore €♦ Wiilimti POEMS OF BELIEF. With frontispiece. i2mo, $i.oo net. Postage extra. THE >ENEID OF VIRGIL, translated into English verse. 8vo, $1.50, net. Postpaid. THE ELEGIES OF TIBULLUS, translated into English verse. 8vo, 90 cents, net. Postage, 8 cents. HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY Boston and New York POEMS OF BELIEF yf«5?'-. POEMS OF BELIEF BT THEODORE C. WILLIAMS WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY ELIHU VEDDER BOSTON AND NEW TOUK HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 1910 COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY THEODORE C. WILLIAMS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Published April iqio C?C!.A;^611G9 DEDICATION Ere our waking loves begun, Dreams alone to song gave wing; Thou at last discovered, won, Hast thy part in all I sing. Though my songs appear to rove. Never could they rove from thee. When the theme was less than love. Love beside me struck the key. CONTENTS THE LILY AND THE PINE 1 MY SHELL 2 THE VOYAGE OF LIFE 3 THE TRUE PRIEST 4 A PRAYER FOR LIFE 5 THE SINGING SOUL 6 ALL IN ALL 7 THY BROTHER 8 MY FRIEND 9 A THANATOPSIS 10 TWICE GIVEN 11 PASTOR BONUS 12 A LENTEN SECRET 13 THE FREE SPIRIT 14 THE WINTER VICTORY 15 STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS 16 THE SILENT HOUR 17 THE ENDLESS QUEST 18 THE AUTUMNAL HOPE 19 [ vii ] CONTENTS A SABBATH EVENING . ^ . . . 20 THE OFFENDING 21 BENEDICTION 23 GOD IN ALL 24 THE FELLOW LABORERS 25 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD . . . .26 THY HEART IN CHAMBERS TWAIN ... 27 POSSESSION 28 HOSPITALITY 29 DEMOCRACY 30 man's INFINITY 31 NOVEMBER 32 THE THESEUS OF THE PARTHENON ... 33 MY HOST 34 THE SOUL IN BONDAGE 35 GIBRALTAR 36 IN A TIME OF NATIONAL SCANDAL ... 37 .ENEAS 38 TO VIRGIL 39 TO DEATH 40 THE EARTH CELESTIAL 41 TO A POET WHO FEARED THE LOSS OF YOUTH 42 BOUNDLESSNESS 43 [ viii ] CONTENTS RESURRECTIO CARNIS 45 A SOUL IN STORM 46 THE SPHINX 47 THE ROYAL SELF 49 SURSUM CORDA 51 IMMORTAL MIND 53 HERAKLEITOS 55 LAGO DI COMO 57 AT A TUSCAN VILLA 59 THE DREAM-BUILDER 61 RETRO SATHANAS 63 AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS . . . . . 66 A stoic's creed 69 SENECA ON THE SOUL 71 THE ROXBURY LATIN SCHOOL . . . .74 TO OUR OLD HEAD-MASTER .... 76 INDEPENDENCE DAY 78 TO JAPAN VICTORIOUS 80 THE MAKING OF MAN 83 [ « ] POEMS OF BELIEF THE LILY AND THE PINE I FOUND a lily near my door Which bloomed an hour, then bloomed no more ; And her pure-hearted perfectness My heart did bless. I saw high up the mountain cold A pine a hundred winters old ; For his strong-hearted patience there I breathed a prayer. O hour of sweetly breathing life! century of strength and strife! 1 only know that in each one God's will was done. [ 1 ] MY SHELL A SHELL upon the sounding sands Flashed in the sunshine where it lay. Its green disguise I tore; my hands Bore the rich treasure-trove away. Within, the chamber of the pearl Blushed like the rose, like opal glowed ; And o'er its domes a cloudy swirl Of mimic waves and rainbows flowed. "Strangely," I said, "the artist-worm Has made his secret bower so bright! This jeweller, this draftsman firm Was born and died in eyeless night. "Deep down in many-monstered caves His miracle of beauty throve; Far from all light, against strong waves, A Castle Beautiful he wove. " Take courage, soul ! Thy labor blind The lifting tides may onward bear To some glad shore, where thou shalt find Light, and a Friend to say, ' How fair ! ' " [ 2 ] THE VOYAGE OF LIFE Life is a voyage. The winds of life come strong From every point ; yet each will speed thy course along, E thou with steady hand when tempests blow. Canst keep thy course aright and never once let go. Life is a voyage. Ask not the port unknown Whither thy Captain guides his storm-tossed vessel on ; Nor tremble thou lest mast should snap and reel; But note his orders well, and mind, unmoved, thy wheel. Life's voyage is on the vast, unfathomed sea Whereof the tides are times, the shores, eternity; Seek not with plummet, when the great waves roll. But by the stars in heaven mark which way sails thy soul. [ 3 ] THE TRUE PRIEST^ Lord, who dost the voices bless Crying in the wilderness, And the lovely gifts increase Of the messengers of peace. Thou, whose temple is with men, Show us Thy true priest again. In the holy place may he Thine immediate presence see; Or through deserts, Father, led. Show Thy people heavenly bread. While his lips at Thy control Warn, instruct, inspire, console. Give him to his priestly dress Faith and zeal and righteousness. Then, lest all Thy gifts be lost. Breathe Thy gift of Pentecost, — Love, whose many-languaged fire Finds each listening soul's desire. ^ Ordination Hymn. Tune "Refuge." [ 4 ] A PRAYER FOR LIFE Be with me, Lord ! My house is growing still, As one by one the guests go out the door; And some who helped me once to do Thy will Behold and bless Thee on the Heavenly Shore. Uphold my strength ! My task is not yet done. Nor let me at the labor cease to sing; But from the rising to the setting sun, Each faithful hour, do service to my king. Show me Thy light ! Let not my wearied eyes Miss the fresh gladness of life's passing day. But keep the light of morn, the sweet surprise Of each new blessing that attends my way. And for the crowning grace, O Lord, renew The best of gifts Thy best of saints have had: With the great joy of Christ my heart endue. To share the whole world's tears and still be glad. [ 5 ] THE SINGING SOUL A hundred leagues of land and sea, A boundless reach of sky. Closed round the singing soul of me. And woke this glad reply. I marvel what such vast expense Of power is nourished by. And how my microcosmic sense Such height and depth can spy. Yet where my eyes the fragments scan. Or view the glorious whole, I find free harmony with man, And truth that feeds his soul. Not all your powers, earth, sky, and se; My watchful heart appall: The same just laws guard you and me, One life sustains us all. [ 6 ] ALL IN ALL Every atom gives resistance not the universe can break ; Each rose-petal holds perfection angel artists could not make. As each white wave feels the motion of the moon-led, tidal main, Plato and the seven sages shine in every human brain. Each true prayer foretastes the glory saints and pro- phets burn to teach; In my brother's heart enfolded lies the kingdom Christ would reach. Under every power and passion stirs the element divine : If I grasp the moment's meaning, all eternity is mine. [ 1 ] THY BROTHER* When thy heart with joy o'er-flowing Sings a thankful prayer, In thy joy, O let thy Brother With thee share. When the harvest sheaves ingathered Fill thy barns with store, To thy God and to thy Brother Give the more. If thy soul with power uplifted Yearn for glorious deed, Give thy strength to serve thy Brother In his need. Hast thou borne a secret sorrow In thy lonely breast? Take to thee thy sorrowing Brother For a guest. Share with him thy bread of blessing, Sorrow's burden share. When thy heart enfolds a Brother, God is there. * Tune "Geneva." [ 8 ] MY FRIEND A FRIEND I had who, when his heart was cold. Warmed it, he said, with Hfe-enkindHng wine. Made from no mortal grape, but of a vine Planted by Christ and never waxing old. This wondrous man, when wearily and slow A comrade walked, would make his shoulders bare And whisper, " Brother, put thy burden there." He walked, he said, with Christ, and rested so. Then one black day I knew my friend must die. I wept and strove. My heart was torn in twain. But he ! — he smiled like heaven upon my pain And said, "Would God thou wert as blest as I." [ 9 ] A THANATOPSIS Death is an angel with two faces: To us he turns A face of terror, blighting all things fair; The other burns With glory of the stars, and love is there; And angels see that face in heavenly places. Two strong, sharp swords are in the hands of Death One smites to dust Dear beauty's idol and the thrones of power, And long, sweet years in that brief, awful hour Vanish because they must; His other and his stronger sword is just: It slays untruth, and mocks at this world's lust, — O liberating Death! Strive, O my soul, to see The heavenly face and that delivering sword ! Till I shall be All truly fashioned to th' Incarnate Word, And live, not knowing death, in Thee, O Lord ! [ 10 ] TWICE GIVEN God gave tlie world His Son ; and he was known For God's own Son, because he took the throne Of perfect love that seeketh not her own, And giving freely, as to him was given, Made love on Earth commune with love in Heaven. A perfect gift thy Father gives to thee, — Thyself, with all thy powers : yet all will be Imperfect, weak and in captivity. Till thou. His child, give all thyself away To God and to thy brother, day by day. [ 11 ] PASTOR BONUS A WHITE young lamb upon my breast I bore: My arms are empty now; and through my tears O'er a wide river, on a shining shore, Another Shepherd with my lamb appears. Each evening safely in his fold she lies; And every day, through pastures green and fair. Follows her Shepherd under sunny skies, — And all the flock of Christ walk with her there. A flock unnumbered ! Yet each star above With differing glory fills the heavenly frame, — And my white lamb, in those vast realms of love. The Shepherd knows and calls her by her name. [ 12 ] A LENTEN SECRET I STRUGGLED With my burden, till one day I strove no longer: then it fell away. I nursed my wounds in vain with skilful balm ; Not till I nursed them not my flesh grew calm. My heaviest cross I weeping would not bear; I lifted it, and lo ! 't was light as air ! Askest thou how such troubles so could bless ? God touched each one, — and it was nothingness. [ 13 ] THE FREE SPIRIT There is no fate: Thy high or low estate Comes of thy climbing or thy falling down. No baleful star A brave man's bliss can bar; No kingly planet keep a coward's crown. Dost thou complain Because God's frost and rain To thy white cheek seem much too wet or cold ? Dost thou not know God's angels, rain and snow, Swathe earth in robes of silver, fold on fold ? Cease, luckless man. To curse thy being's plan ! For wert thou to thine own true birthright true, Thou wert set free. As are the winds, the sea, Or eagles mounting in the trackless blue. [ 14 ] THE WINTER VICTORY We are not children of the sun. With myrtle garlands glad and gay, Who weep when Summer's mirth is done And fling the pipes of Pan away. The conquerors of a land of snow, We fear not Winter's leafless time; Swift winds and flames, our servants, go To fetch us flowers of every clime. Beneath the steadfast northern star Our blazing hearthstone never fails. Where heart to heart draws closer far Than lovers in Arcadian vales. Not ours to meet the Winter's birth With sighs, but with fresh tasks begun We rule the many-seasoned earth; We are not children of the sun. [ 15 ] STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS Father, to-day I humbly pray Into no sin my hasty feet may stray. My wilfulness, Till Thou shalt bless, Cannot sustain me in true holiness. My boasted might To choose the right. Forgetting Thee, my God, is mean and slight. My wing of love Not aimed above Goes trailing in the mire and is not love. My sight, my power. My love's brief hour Are loss and dross, until some starry dower From Heaven shall shine On what seems mine, And bless poor me with light and life divine. [ 16 ] THE SILENT HOUR* As the storm retreating Leaves the vales in peace, Let the world's vain noises O'er our spirits cease. Sounds of wrath and striving, Man with man at war. Hearts with Heaven contending, - Hear we now no more. Now the hours of stillness Wondrous visions show; Heaven unfolds before us. Angels come and go. Holy, human faces. From earth's shadows free. Look with love upon us. Bid us patient be. Almost we discern them, Almost read their smile. Almost hear them saying — "Wait a little while," Thus in hours of stillness Faith to Heaven shall rise. Till death's last, deep silence Quite unseals our eyes. Amen. » Tune "Merrial." [ 17 ] THE ENDLESS QUEST Ere true love its love can tell, Ere fond hope flies half its range, Trembling in the marriage-bell Sobs an undertone of change. Glory toiled for, fought for, won, Name and fame and conquest proud. Ere the conqueror's day be done, Melt like mad Ixion's cloud. Man was born on earth to roam, Dream-struck, dazed, and self -beguiled. Toward his migratory home In th' unnamed, unchartered wild. Could one man the realms possess Of his visionary eye, He would perish of excess. Or of disenchantment die. [ 18 ] THE AUTUMNAL HOPE Though the autumn's dying glory Flames along the lordly hill, Love will tell no mournful story, Faith not feel the season's chill. Leaves may fall, but all their fading Steals no life of living tree. Still, through deeper cells pervading, Thrills the life we cannot see. Hush, my heart, thy fancies dreary! Autumn's sadness is a cheat. Forests rest when they are weary, But their winter sleep is sweet. Buds beneath the branches dreaming. Roots that slumber in the snow, Whisper, " Death is but a seeming. Life the only truth we know." [ 19 ] A SABBATH EVENING I THANK thee, Lord, that just to-day I have not seemed to go astray, And that to-night the setting sun Shines only on my duty done. Father ! not thus Thy name I bless From proud or blind self-righteousness; Nor that I thus would hope to win Remission of some wilful sin. But if to-night I lift my eyes Unto the all-beholding skies. And seem to feel within me shine Some kinship with their calm divine, — The silent blessing bids me pray. By this one glad and blameless day. To learn what all my days might be, If each were holy unto Thee. [ 20 ] THE OFFENDING (After George Herbert) Pluck out my heart ! 'T is a stale piece of food shame ! — Unfit for Thee to taste. Take it, my God, at last. And frame A fair and good. Why is it that my heart should not be set On Thee.? I hasten to draw near. And ere I be aware, 1 flee. O spare me yet! My deeds which should be pageants to declare Thy praise. Do mock Thy mighty love. My God, when shall Thy Dove My ways Make straight and fair ? [ 21 ] THE OFFENDING Once did I think my furious eagle-soul Had eyes To stare upon the sun. My God, what have I done? Thy skies I have made foul. Blind eyes were better than this sight of smart. My sin. O make me blind, sick, dumb ! Then lest rebellion come Within, Pluck out my heart. [ 82 ] BENEDICTION God be with thee ! Gently o 'er thee May His wings of mercy spread ; Be His way made plain before thee, And His glory round thee shed. Safely onward, May thy pilgrim-feet be led. God be with thee ! With thy spirit His abiding presence be; Till thy heart that peace inherit, God alone can give to thee. His indwelling, Help, and heal, and set thee free. [ 23 ] GOD IN ALL The flowing Soul, nor low nor high. Is perfect here, is perfect there. Each drop in ocean orbs the sky, And seeing eyes make all things fair. The evening cloud, the wayside flower Surpass the Andes and the rose; And wrapped in every hasty hour Is all the lengthened year bestows. Therefore erase thy false degrees. From stock and stone strike starry fire. Lo! even in the least of these Dwells the Lord Christ, the world's desire. [ 24] THE FELLOW LABORERS Not a star our eyes can see Shines alone for you and me; Distant worlds behold its light, Ages hence 't will shine as bright. Not a flower that breathes and blows Just for us its perfume throws; Hosts of happy insect things Brush it with their quickening wings. Brooks, as from the hills they flow. Make green meadows as they go ; Cataracts of wrathful sound Turn the mill-wheels round and round. Each strong thing some service gives Far and wide; and nothing lives For itself or just its own : 'T is but death to live alone. [ 25 ] THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD Out of a vanishing cloud And the wind-blown dust that flies, God made a human heart, endowed With light from the central skies. 'T was cast on a furious flood Of a million changeful things, And fever and fear consumed its blood : — But the creature was born with wings. The wings were a banner of flame Among the stars unfurled ; And the Light in Man at the last became The light of the whole round world. [ 26 ] THY HEART IN CHAMBERS TWAIN {From the German) Thy heart in chambers twain Doth shelter Two neighbors, Joy and Pain. If Joy be wide awake, Her neighbor A longed-for rest will take. O Joy, if thou be wise. Step lightly, Lest Pain from sleep arise. [ 27 ] POSSESSION Let not my own my owner be. Possessions, if they serve not me. Are golden-chained captivity. [ 28 ] HOSPITALITY In vain my host at banquet free Gives far-fetched fruit and wine: If soul to soul he meets not me. On beggar's crust I dine. [ 29 ] DEMOCRACY The kings are drones, the angered people cried. The strong have gagged us, robbed us, and their eyes Are blinded. Let the people's wit be tried! Much work and little bread have made us wise. [ 30 ] MAN'S INFINITY To mete and sway a bounded sphere With patient heart and free, And harvest all his Now and Here, Is Man's infinity. [ 81 ] NOVEMBER The bare November, like a stern divine, Frowned on my soul, discoursing of decay, Of time, flesh, dust, and pleasure's hasty day. Reiterating weary line on line Death's threadbare homily. " O Nature mine," I cried in wrath, " thou who didst breathe last May The spirit of gladness in young lambs at play. Show thyself potent yet, by one sure sign." Then the moon rose. I saw her, full and calm. Move through the large clouds, as a mother might From room to room where sleeping children lie, " My son, " she said to me, " since yesternight I made my blissful round through Italy, From far Cathay and silvered isles of palm." [ 32 ] THE THESEUS OF THE PARTHENON 'T IS the scarred ruin of a god-like face. Lost, lost forever, the proud light it wore! The lirabs, the robe are lovely as of yore; The lordly neck still keeps an awful grace; The clear brows front us still without a trace Of earth's imperf ectness : while we deplore That men of our frail mould may blend no more Man's self-poised strength with god-like charm and peace. Yet even the ruin speaks. That beauteous mien Of Theseus, hero of a vanished prime, Would look on Athens only while she bred Men valorous and youth high-souled and clean; He blessed all Hellas through her golden time, Then veiled those eyes from Greeks enslaved and dead. [ 33 ] MY HOST A GUEST was I. My Host lived rich and free ; Feasts, gardens, music, guests of noble name, Sweet sleep, good talk, gay youth and lovely dame, — All made my pleasures. Said my Host to me: "The house is yours. I bid its servants be Quick to obey you. Make increasing claim Of all your heart can wish. It is my aim These guests of mine shall use whatever they see." Then some one said : " Since here we have such powers, All is our own ; and better place it were Could we forget this potent Master nigh. And feast unwatched of his all-seeing eye.'* Through all the guests great trouble then did stir: And voices cried, "This house is God's, not ours." [ 34 ] THE SOUL IN BONDAGE {See Frontispiece) I SAW a heaven-born soul, whose earthly frame Was strength and beauty. But about her twined Loose-woven bonds; and slave-like she resigned Her limbs to hopeless sleep, which seemed the same As coming death; nor felt she any shame Of bonds and nakedness, but locked her mind In her unopening eyes, and, wilful blind. Saw not behind her the sun's orb of flame. For groping at her bonds, she said, "They hold The skies from which I fell." Yet her own hand Held immortality. I could but see Her bonds were gossamer; and I was told That she must feel her strength some day, and stand Unbound, awake, her heavenly wings set free. [ 35 ] GIBRALTAR Dost thou, great England, guard thy greatness here By thy bold Lion Rock's imperial pride, Only that thy swift merchant ships may ride. Encircling the rich globe, without a fear Of any wrath but heaven's ? Dost thou uprear These bastions in mere greed ? Hast thou defied Navies of many kings and multiplied Thy strongholds in all seas, that year by year Only thine English greatness might increase? Not so, Gibraltar ! Let thy fortress stand To keep the oceans free, and hold each land In righteous brotherhood with all, till Peace, At last uplifting her resistless hand. Shall bid the nations from their discord cease. [ 36 ] IN A TIME OF NATIONAL SCANDAL Her own sons shamed my country with much gold : The lavish gifts her own full bounty gave Imperilled what our sires brought o'er the wave Of freedom and of faith in God. Men told In lands where lords, priests, slaves and monarchs hold The soul in chains, that freedom could not save Our new-world men from sinking in that grave Where over Babylon or Rome have rolled The oblivious centuries. We knew and blushed. Yet the great people's heart was in the way Of wisdom ever. Fortune's pampered son May wander or go mad. But in the hushed Most holy temple where men love, toil, pray. In common manhood, freedom's cause is won. [ 37 ] ^NEAS If after kingdoms lost, dark griefs and shames, Storms and sad exile, some stern power pursues The sacred hero still ; yet may the Muse In his prophetic heart evoke the names Of mightier, more benignant gods: she claims Consolatory office, to infuse Faith in the future and high heart to use The present task, though base, for kingly aims. Nor is it least of her good gifts to show The exile among alien shores and seas. How human hearts are touched by human tears Even in unknown eyes. For strangers know If men have toiled and wept, and make with these Concord of song the Muse approving hears. [ 38 ] TO VIRGIL Thy Rome died many deaths. Her native power By slow diseases, such as nations know When liberty is lost, became a show And pageantry for slaves ; then came the hour Of outward death, as when a withered flower Falls in a tempest; o'er her lying low The barbarous legions in resistless flow Rained seas of death on temple, street and tower. But thou, imperial Virgil, couldst not die. Still through strange seas thy storm-tossed Trojans fare; Thy visions live; thy voice is singing still. We wanderers to a vaster West descry New worlds, new sorrows : but true hearts that bear The sacred past, seek Heaven's prophetic will. [ 39 ] TO DEATH Why art thou blind, O Death ? Why dost thou choose At random whither thy keen shaft is flung ? Gray-bearded crime and virtue dying young Look all alike to thee. Thou dost confuse Th' oppressor with his prey ; fond love may lose Its loveliest; or justest hate be stung By its long-lingering object. With what tongue Canst thou, fool Death ! thy frenzied strokes excuse ? But haply thy dark wisdom would make scorn Of mortal judgments, and would loudly say: " Nothing is sure ; nor beauty, wit, nor worth Have long to stay. Oh, therefore, sons of Earth, Draw close, clasp hands, give life's best gifts away, And ere love passes, prove why love was born." t 40 ] THE EARTH CELESTIAL Roll, little Earth, along thy star-lit round ! Light at the sun thine own quenched lamp of power ! Thy slow-evolving age and swiftest hour Are measured by the light that knows no bound. What if thou borrow all ? No stir, nor sound. Nor life, nor spark of thought, but is the dower Of thy celestial birth; thy least field-flower Is fed by stars across the gulf profound. Thy beauty never of itself was bred ; By their star-clock thy seasons punctual be. Let fading centuries pass ! Old Earth in thee Let land and ocean hide their millions dead J On with the stars, swift globe ! Thy warm dust rolls Through the same sky that breathed thee full of souls. [ « ] TO A POET WHO FEARED THE LOSS OF YOUTH Dost thou forebode the passing of the morn While yet thy rose of youth is wet with dew ? Doth thy fresh laurel twine itself with yew, And when thou shouldst be glad, art thou forlorn ? Or is there on thy lip some curve of scorn. Seeing how meanly men grow old, how few But feel the world's false kiss has worked them rue, Like Samson by Delilah mocked and shorn ? Follow the Muses, brother! They endow With youth immortal; and give equal praise To gray Mseonides of sightless eyes, Or flushed youth singing life's first wild surprise. Honor each Muse ! But mark Urania's brow Lifting unruffled o'er our lapse of days ! [ 42 ] BOUNDLESSNESS (" La Nature est prodigue, non parce-qu'elle est folic, mais parce qu'elle est riche.") So many seeds that will not grow ! So many planets black and bare! So many creatures writhing slow Through lives which seem dumb chaos, where Wild, empty dreams drift on in aimless flow ! Unnumbered life-engendering beams Speed forth from every potent star; But most are lost, — mere pin-point gleams Whose light is quenched by travelling far. What goal or gain the boundless waste redeems ? Hath Nature, who with sparing hand Weighs out each morsel to the worm, Like madmen building towers of sand. Bound fast her parts in form and term. But for the whole mere dull confusion planned ? Why hold I in my sanest mind Such faith in Nature's wise excess ? Why does my soul, so small, so blind. Glory so much in boundlessness? Why ask I not that heaven have one star less ? [ 43 ] BOUNDLESSNESS Oh, what if this exuberant whole, O'er-leaping measure, mark and bound. Be subject to unseen control ? What if all lost notes gathered up shall sound God's endless music to Man's deathless soul ? [ 44 ] RESURRECTIO CARNIS O LIVING flesh I call my own, My portion brief of earth and air, Men bring thee bread from every zone And fetch from far thy substance rare. The dew of morning fills thy veins. The cool, salt sea within thee flows. The sunbeam's throb thy heart sustains, Thy blush is fellow to the rose. Thou hast no commerce with decay. Thine elements are star-fed fires. Each frail breath of thy mortal day From boundless life its life respires. O living flesh, what wilt thou be When my brief tenancy is done ? Still shalt thou not in earth or sea Take golden tribute of the sun ? So kindred to what will not die, Dear flesh, I scorn thy doubts and fears. Thy mortal portents pass me by And melt in God's eternal years. [ 45 ] A SOUL IN STORM Continually stirred man's soul must be By agonies, by whirlwinds of desire, Lest it should stagnate, lest the living flow Of elemental power should be cut off Both from its fount and goal. Oh, what is death? 'T is the last tempest in life's little pool To rouse it to the depth, until it burst Its inland bound and flow forth upon tides That sweep unmeasured to the utmost shore Of God's last star, so finding rest at last. Rest ? Who can tell if rest indeed be gain ? Who fears great storms, fears what shall surely blow If oceans he would cross : and if my soul From star to star would travel, if I be Not land-locked ever in earth's transient haven, Must I not pray God, not for peace and calm, But to sail storm-proof o'er His vaster seas? [ 46 ] THE SPHINX Out of the changeful fury of the tide-rifts stream- ing by Wilt build thee, O World, a place of peace, and show God by and by? Or all the riot of roses and the loves that escape control. Are they rainbows shed on a melting cloud from the central sun of my soul ? O musical storms and stars, do ye strike wild chords unplanned ? Or is there a master-musician, who leads with uplifted hand ? If a god's will shape the heavens, is he perfect, boundless, free ? Or feels he the bondage of violent dust? Does he suffer and strive like me ? I know that I never shall answer the riddles that haunt the mind. I see but a spark of the infinite flame, — to all the rest born blind. [ 47 ] THE SPHINX Yet envy I not the gazers who boast of their clearer sight; For safer I walk if I know I am blind, than calling the darkness light. For all my riddle unanswered, for all my blindness known, I would rather keep asking the secret than to make it all my own. I believe that the stir of the questions is the spirit's ultimate breath. All life is a passionate question. Wilt thou not answer it. Death? t 48 ] THE ROYAL SELF If to this earth from some superior star My spirit fell, and if, as Plato dreamed. My task is to recover from afar The vigor lost, from servitude redeemed. It were not hard to bear the darkened day. Or not impossible to find once more. Though blind, though bleeding, the returning way. And hope for home upon this alien shore. Or if I be the heir of victor-beast, And, born of victory, may hopeful strive, Because ascent is life: so at the least, I think I could sustain my soul alive. But I refuse to drift. I will not be A bubble on a stream of stars, to dance. To eddy round and shine like something free. Then burst my film of being at a chance. Yes, I refuse. The powers beyond my ken May laugh as tyrants do upon a slave. My will may be delusion, and we men May at the last snatch nothing from the grave. [ 49 ] THE ROYAL SELF Yet in this moment that I call my own, This flash-light life of mine shall be a thing Colored by my soul's act. If this brief throne Must fall, — at least I'll use it like a king. [ 50 ] SURSUM CORDA Not a star a moment stays; Every beam it gives replaces Starry beams of vanished days Into endless darkness sped. The lifted Alp's perpetual head Crumbles away, and every storm defaces Some fragment of its fiery prime; The mountain granite yields to time Surely as blown roses fail, Or the cheek of youth turns pale, Or o'er the poet's would-be deathless rhyme Oblivious years prevail. Why, then, O my frivolous soul ! Sue or execrate the skies, If visibly before thy wrathful eyes Some mansion melt which once thou couldst control ? Shall the fading rainbow grieve thee ? Or if lovely music leave thee. Wilt thou curse it as it goes ? Wilt thou in scorn Keep the thorn. And trample fiercely on a faded rose ? [ 51 ] SURSUM CORDA Rather thou shalt be aware. As Hfe's apparition flows, Of earth and sky whence thou didst pluck thy rose; Of a boundless wealth and free That can a million-fold repair The broken beauty that now grieveth thee. Battle lost, or battle won, Glorious the conflict done. Go, rainbows ! I have found the sun. [ 52 ] IMMORTAL MIND What are centuries or seons, but as flowers that bloom and die? What is earth ? One planet-blossom in the garden of the sky. What is Man? OTime! O Planet! Shall he ripen by and by? Through the formless deep, they tell us, ere the spheres in order ran. Stirred a beam, a breath of godhead, dawned a demi- urgic plan. While the throbbing star-dust atoms danced in pro- phecy of Man. Who beheld the myriad epochs vanished since the earth was born. Who beheld from pole to centre the fresh globe con- vulsed and torn. Who beheld her isles and oceans shifting like the clouds of morn ? [ 53 ] IMMORTAL MIND If the angels watched the wonder, 't was as mortal eyes behold Surf that breaks, or flames outleaping, or the rainbow's transient gold; None but God saw why or whither the tumultuous ages rolled. Say not yon unfathomed heavens yield to Man their deep decree; Say not all-adventuring Science knows what is or what shall be. Where are alpha and omega ? Who has written, who can see? Shall the limpet on the sea-cliff pathway o'er the ocean find? Knows the insect in the sunbeam what far orbs our planet bind? Oh! if dust to dust returneth, Man, no less, dies, cosmos-blind. Is God's glorious work forever witnessed by Himself alone ? Shall there be no deathless creature standing near th' Eternal Throne ? If one soul be God's companion, — Child of Man, why not thine own ? [ 54 ] HERAKLEITOS Through the universe I see Movement, rhythm and degree. Nothing is but was before Something less or something more. Wave on wave the starry light Strikes our fluctuating sight. Through the glory of the sun Fields of ebbing darkness run. Life from life forever breeding. Life on life forever feeding, Th' invulnerable parasite Finds a glory and delight Always in some vaster whole: As stars of stars receive control, And oceans into oceans roll. Nothing lives of its own labor, Each must borrow of a neighbor. Kings by beggars' pence are fed, And the serf has daily bread Only if the wise and great Fructify his mean estate. Nature's rapine and decay Takes a smooth, melodious way. [ 55 ] HERAKLEITOS See the serpent on 'the bough Coiling surely, fixing now On the dove his jewelled eye, — Bids her his new pleasures try. She in wonder at such wooing, Ratifies her own undoing. Yields her in a dreamful trance To his life-consuming glance. Till in her breast with scarce a pang Thrusts the worm his glittering fang. Soon the eagle with the snake His delicious sport will take : And through boundless upper air The unresisting coiler bear, In a rapture of confusion. In ecstatical delusion; And when on the eagle's eyrie Falls the serpent stunned and weary. He resigns without a strife His short heritage of life. Thus by soothing drugs of death Nature healeth, fresheneth All her tribes, and by such giving Maketh short life well worth living; While round her ancient, wreckful shore Full tides of youth forever pour. [ 56 ] LAGO DI COMO Out of the fight I fled ; yet not As cowards fly, but striking at my foe With every backward step, and not one jot Abating truth and honor, nor with show Of courtesy to knaves nor truce with folly. But not the less did bitter melancholy Go with me ever, and my solitude Was haunted by a brood Of disillusions, doubts and scornful smiles: Seeing how men are ruled by shallow wiles, And in the world's high places False hearts and hideous faces Claim flattery and crowns, And over gaping clowns Have empire which no power but time effaces ; So strong the power of brainless, soulless gold By palsied hands controlled ! Unto the hills I fled. There at the feet Of snowy-mantled summits, the swift tides Of joy and pain seemed breaking evermore Like foaming ripples beautiful and fleet On some impregnable shore [ 57 ] LAGO DI COMO Where land and ocean me(ft, And where in ceaseless conflict peace abides. The terraced vineyards and the towered town Along the mountain marges sloping down, Flooded with purples by Italian eve, The castle on the peak, for which the night Prepared a holy crown Of stars, the sun-smit village gleaming bright, — All seemed like cloudy creatures winged for flight, Poising a moment to receive The gift of air and ecstasy of light. The works of man dissolved : or were one beam In the supreme effulgence, proud to be Transfigured, and to give their passing gleam Of beauty to th' eternal joy they see. My heart stood still and had no power for tears; I felt the lost and lamentable years Fall from me like a dream. A little mountain maiden with large eyes Offered me cyclamens ; with smiles she stood. The spirit of the springtime and the hills. So I smiled with her; and the scornful mood Vanished in sunset, as a discord dies In vaster music; my remembered ills Were but the harmless noise of yonder vale. [ 58 ] AT A TUSCAN VILLA Beneath your villa's ample vines I drank your fragrant native wines; I heard your cattle low, and saw Your faithful servants heed your law. It seemed a temperate retreat From winter winds and summer's heat. Where under smiling Tuscan skies It were a pleasure to be wise. Such was the house beside the sea Of Virgil at Parthenope; Such the felicity and charm For Horace of his Sabine farm; And nobler souls than these have found In some sequestered plot of ground Room for immortal thoughts, and friends To serve imperishable ends. Yon uplands of the Apennine Have beckoned to a life divine; And many a hermit breathing there An unperturbed and cloistral air. Has found, remote from friends and foes. Fulfilment, triumph and repose. Not less, old friend, though you and I [ 59 ] AT A TUSCAN VILLA Climb no steep pathway to the sky, Mankind compels us to confess That cities are a loneliness. And bids us oft prefer to these Festivity with birds and trees. It is because our hearts refuse To live unloved, that thus we choose To seek among plain folk and rude What the spoiled world calls solitude. [ 60 ] THE DREAM-BUILDER A POTENT wizard of forgotten name, Whose hut was on a range of sand-blown hills Between two towns of ancient Tartary, By secret incantation and strong charm Could draw men's dreams out from their sleeping brains And give them visible shape. Some reached the stars And filled the sky's deep dome with golden wings; Some earthward clung; while others to and fro Would wander in the formless air, like clouds Which flock in mountain vales, or on the Sea Spread the gray mantle of the mist, that hides All else from sight yet shows no shape itself. These dreams forthwith, such virtue had the spell, Took their own places in the earth and sky, Not less than if the finger of the Lord Outreaching from the darkness round His throne, Had shaped their being when the world was new. So from the sand-blown range of treeless hills Sprang new-born galaxies, dream after dream. Yet all was magic. Uninvited eyes Saw nothing. Travellers from their path astray [ 61 ] THE DREAM-BUILDER In that magician's dwelling ft)und a man Sunk deep in thought, — no more. Some fancied him A penitent in loveless hermitage, Self -tortured by his own soul's fixed decree; Or madman long forgot, concealing there The ruins of his mind, as wounded birds Hide dying in dark caves and are not seen. Few heard his incantation; few believed His magic could call substance from the void ; Still fewer through his dream-built worlds could move. Yet no man wandering through Tartary Passed o'er the sand-blown hills, but felt his soul Uplifted into freedom and reborn; And in the wilderness for many a day Each found smooth ways, cool wells and balmy shade. And heard the dear speech of his native land. [ 62 ] RETRO SATHANAS I WOKE one night all trembling; a dim beam Of moonlight slanted down my chamber-wall; But blackness swam about me, and I saw Close at my side a shape with human brows. Which looked with odious eyes deep, deep in mine With pale and beckoning hands, it seemed to say ; I am a spirit from the waning moon ; A thousand days I crouch with half-shut eyes On that cold shore where the dull silver fades From the mid-crescent into the abyss Of shadow stretched between the icy horns. Darkness and death are ever where I dwell. I am thine own bad angel. I am he Who, with what skill the moon-god trained me to. Do torture that soft thing within thy breast. I vex thy mind with doubts insoluble. I lead in mockery beside the edge Of soundless gulfs of being, — where below Thy human pathway roars the deep of deeps. Or where, more terrible than noise of storm, The silence seems to make thine own light steps Startle the dead abyss with evil sound. Before thy mother looked upon thy face, I nestled at thy side. I prompted thee [ 63 ] RETRO SATHANAS Through all thy childish sins; and when in age Thy desperate tears flow fast, thy withered face Will show among time's honest wrinkles there The lines my finger drew. All men who read My writing in thy face will shrink from thee : — But I will carve it on thee day by day." So ceased the phantom. But my angered soul Shuddered no whit. I rose; I faced him square. And gave him gaze for gaze, with words like these: " Good brother demon ! 't was unmannerly To break my sleep thus, — though the thing may pass If thou art such an old acquaintance here. Why is my young soul worth such long-laid plot To ruin ? Is thy moon-god in the cold So much at loss for ways to spend his power. That he must teach thee this industrious trick Of netting minnows ? Do I seem so pure. Or was I ever so angelical. That thy malicious hands befouling me. Accomplish some bold insult against God ? Be not deceived. Old Snake ! For wert thou he Who coiled in Eden to sting simple Eve, — I tell thee plainly 't is my simple creed That souls enslaved by thee were self -betrayed. I do defy thy poison-plague to touch The clean, sound part of me. O enemy Of sickly souls ! I mock thee, when I see [ 64 ] RETRO SATHANAS How good men are, how good is my true self, In spite of this perpetual devil's art With which thou pliest us. See, spider, see The one fly in thy webs, — and through the air A million wings flash rainbows in the sun ! Such luck is Satan's setting traps for men. I call thee thy right name now — do I so ? Go, Goat-foot! drop thy large, pretentious style! Prince of the Air, art thou, whose royal garb So savors of the dung-heap and the ditch ? If thou art devil, hear me! I am man. I do defy, deride, exorcise thee. I know thou dwellest not in any star, Nor in the moon, nor nether deep dost hide. Thou art the shadow of my own false fears; Thou hast not even the names men call thee by; For thou art nothingness and vacancy." Then, waking with these words as one from swoon, I saw the day-star at my casement shine; A silver zone spread round the dawning East, And singing through my chamber came a voice: " My child, resist the devil, he will flee From thee." And all that day was quietness. [ 65 ] AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS Eternal Rome ! They change thy robes of pride And rend thy beauty from thee, as of old Thy women in their mourning tore away The vesture from the breast, and let loose hair Flow tangled to the wind. Yet of thy soul No Vandal, nor thine own unheeding sons, Can spoil thee; and the soul of thee survives All change and spoliation, — though it be The envy of slow time, or sudden hand Of unconsidered slaughter that consigns Thy body to its doom of endless change. Ruin in thee is perfect. Scars of shame, Dark prodigies of chastisement and sin. Have made themselves thy beauty; and men gaze Entranced with fear and wonder that become A passionate love of thee. Yet all thy shows Of visible wreck and glory overthrown Are passing ripples in the soundless deep Of thy forgotten grief. To mourn for thee, Thee and thy fallen kingdoms numberless. Is more than tears can do. For loss like thine [ 66 ] AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS Silence alone is fit. Nor needest thou The melancholy moon or midnight stars To clothe thee in sad thoughts. The brightest noon Shows best thy desolation, when the beams Of the great, scornful sun shine pitiless On the vast profanation of thy graves. In youth I pondered with a heavy heart On Rome so fallen. With shut eyes I sate In silent places, meditating long On death, fate, ruin, and all words of woe Young hearts still dare to speak. But now I hear A song of triumph in the ruins. Now For Rome I weep no more; because her soul Lives on, and they who love her learn at last That if she seem dead, prostrate, overthrown, 'T is but fantastic vision and untrue. I sing an Ave Roma! Soul of Rome, Thou art invincible and glad. The streams Of thine unnumbered fountains do not flow More clear and vital from their mountain caves, Than out of shadow speeds thy river of joy In haste to feel the sun. Thy children sing Right blithely o'er thy vacant sepulchres. Or take dry bones for toys. The royal rose Thrives well all winter long, amid the mould or Caesar's palaces. Th' Unconquered Sun, [ 67 ] AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS That Sol InvictuSy once a god of thine, Has quit us never; and the heart of man Renews itself forever in the Hght Of unexhausted heaven. Let the gods Die and be buried ! Let their altars fall ! O soul of Rome ! O soul of me and mine ! We carve the satyr's revel on the stone That hides the ashes of the dead — because Life is invincible. Rome cannot die. Her ruins bloom ; her gray, old marble dust Is youthful as her violets. 'T is here The vestal j&res burn forever bright Upon the holy hearthstone of mankind. Ave Roma Immortalis! We, The sons of lamentable chance and change, Touching thy wonder-relics, here receive Healing and consolation, gifts of power, And from thy world-worn heart perpetual song. Hear, Rome, our nameless pilgrim prayers, and bless ! The pilgrims of to-morrow like ourselves Will find great peace in thee when we are gone. A STOIC'S CREED A TRUE man shrinks not from his due of sweat. His hard-won virtue is of lofty strain, Even and all-subduing: it must grow By patient knowledge and discerning art To judge, clear-eyed, things human and divine. Such is life's end and goal. If thou attain, The fellow, not the suppliant, shalt thou be Of blessed gods. How reach this pinnacle? Not when thou toilest o'er the Apennine, Or through Candavian wilds ; no wreckful coast, Nor Scylla nor Charybdis, needst thou see; Nor buy safe-conduct of marauders bold. The way is safe and plain. 'T is Nature's track, From which not wandering thou shalt grow divine. Divine ! Can gold array thee like a god ? Or purple toga? Lo! the gods are naked. Fame hast thou and applause ? Remember, then, How God abides unseen, and men blaspheme Unpunished. Art thou great and worshipful When on thy litter through the staring street Thy slaves convey thee ? Yet the highest God Bears all things up, unaided and self-moved. Seek thou for that which cannot change nor fail ! Where ? In thy soul ! Be just, benignant, free ! [ 69 ] A STOIC'S CREED So in thy body a great god shall dwell. In slave or freedman or in Roman born The soul alone is great. Our names of rank Sprang from ambition or injurious deeds. Thy only honor, worth and high degree Is if a god inhabiteth in thee. [ 70 ] SENECA ON THE SOUL I PRAY thee note how natural it seems To send our thoughts out toward the infinite. The mind of man loves things of large emprise, Accepting for its own no humbler bounds Than gods themselves receive. The mind abjures A mean and local home. Though thou shouldst dwell In Alexandria or Ephesus, Or some more central city, yet thy mind Claims for a fatherland the total sphere, Yon round horizon clasping lands and seas. Yon middle air and realm of sacred sky Dividing and uniting gods and men, Where rolls the host of stars which watch our actions. Nor will thy mind accept the fatal bounds Of fleeting time. For all the past is thine; Each epoch gone stands legible and clear. Translucent to the peering lamp of reason. When comes the day — that day the foolish fear — Which separates the god and man within thee. Leaving thy body in the dust it sprang from. Thou journeyest to the gods, who even now [ 71 ] SENECA ON THE SOUL In this hard earthly prison, Bless and cheer. Through this short life's delays thou schoolest thee To meet the longer, nobler life to come. Oh, then what hidden things thy soul shall see! This fog-bank scatters, and from every side Light breaks upon thee. Thou shalt contemplate That glory of so many mingling stars. Streaming together in the tranquil deep Of heaven, where no cloud or stain can be. Both east and west in heaven look equal bright. For light and dark are little changes known Only in earthly air. Shalt thou not say, When on thy nature the true light shall shine. That all thy life was shadow hitherto ? Now dost thou but far off and dimly see. With eyes of flesh, so feeble and so small; But when at last upon thy total self The total light shall smite thee through and through, — O light of God ! what glory shall it be ! Think on these things ! From what is harsh and vile They do absolve and purge. Thy life below The gods are witness of ; and if thou strive To make thee worthy their eternal presence, No sound of war nor fearful trumpet's blare Can shake thee with one fear. To such as thee Death is a promise. In thy mortal hour [ 72 ] SENECA ON THE SOUL Thou shalt but break thy chain, and range abroad To be forevermore an influence, A memory, a goal, a high example, A thought of honor in some noble heart. Part of thy country's treasure and renown, — And all that hear thy voice shall call thee friend. r 73 ] THE ROXBURY LATIN SCHOOL Long may the light our fathers set Remain, our glory and our debt. And this small field bear harvest yet 'Neath many a changing star! Long may we guard the sacred flame. And honor each heroic name. And praise the men unknown to fame. Who made us what we are! Here Socrates shall smile and die. Here Caesar's chariot thunder by. Here laurelled Virgil sing and sigh. For listeners yet unborn. Yet each new age new light shall shed Upon the past and all its dead, And wisdom with uplifted head Face to the rising morn. Here youth with eye severely true Shall all the paths of glory view, And learn what shadows men pursue, Then choose its own proud way. For something that will ne'er be taught In every youthful soul is wrought, [ 74 ] THE ROXBURY LATIN SCHOOL Some free and self-enkindled thought, — The best of life's brief day. Then dear and hallowed be the house Where, with the sunlight on his brows, Young Galahad assumes his vows And takes the knightly part ! No need of priestly tapers pale. Nor crimson robe nor silvered mail; Enough, if to the Holy Grail He brings a stainless heart. [ 75 ] TO OUR OLD HEAD-MASTER (William Coe Collar) Hail, Guide and Friend ! Our fellow pilgrim now Choragus still, despite the silvered head ! Pause now, from climbing the hoar mountain's brow. And bless the long procession thou hast led ! Did Mentor with his wisdom thee invest ? Or Chiron lend thee his persuasive lyre? Or Socrates, of pedagogues the best, Teach thee the harp-strings of a youth's desire ? Or at Eleusis didst thou enter in To witness what solemnities austere Absolve the mystic soul from taint of sin, And render to the bright immortals dear? Or rather did the legends vast and fair Of sage or hero dead, bid thee no less Time's new occasions grasp, and so prepare Thy followers the age unborn to bless ? Not thine the blood-bought glory and applause The martial trumpets of their heroes tell, Who one brief day upheld their country's cause. Or one wild hour withstood her foemen well. [ 76 ] TO OUR OLD HEAD-MASTER Not thine the laurels mixed with mortal yew Of melancholy genius, which would drive Some vast thought to excess, till all but few Lose in the vacuous height the wings to strive. All thy long life was service. Thy free sword Struck like ^Eneas at a phantom brood Of falsehoods, fevered thoughts, and shapes abhorred Which war against the spirit's lasting good. Like fond Prometheus thou didst chiefly love To mould firm shapes of men, and set them free With touch of heavenly fire; yet jealous Jove Frowned not, I deem, but lent high help to thee. lo triumphe! Let thy triumph find Something more sweet than praise to crown the strife ! See, second sire ! these children of thy mind ! Fame is a ghost, a shadow. Love is life. If aught in monument our age survive, Not only of the strugglers in the glare Of the gross world, who for fierce conquest strive, But of those habitants of upland air Who feed the springs of life, whereof mankind Must ever drink, — if this be lasting fame, — Then, friend, for whom our grateful hands have twined This garland of a night — long lives thy name. [ 77 ] INDEPENDENCE DAY Blood of the blond sea-rovers and fierce, black moun- tain-men. Mixed with a home-bred lowland race that fished in river and fen, — Such wild, red blood had England's youth, and it has not cooled since then. Rovers ever the race has bred, as all the world may know. But never a hearth like England's hearth so faithfully doth glow. And every clime where men can breathe has English homes to show. Out of the sea the New World rose ; and many a brave ship flew To plant old England's freedom there and bid it bloom anew. Till fruit for every race it bore, and great and greater grew. [ 78 ] INDEPENDENCE DAY Rovers out of the whole wide world poured in the land to fill; They yoked a continent with steel, broke monsters to their will, And wrought new things beneath the sun, with sinewy, scornful skill. Blithe was the new-born race of men. The lords of memory They met with mocking, or forgot; and under the vaster sky Did what they would or what they could, letting old falsehoods die. Many a race learned English speech, and under the flag of stars All free-born blood was mingled new and offered in holy wars To win for Man his manhood true, whatever the cost of scars. 'T was well for England's freedom and well for the hopes of Man, That the New World race from the mother race drew off an ocean-span. Yet are we all one brotherhood, according to God's plan. [ 79 ] TO JAPAN VICTORIOUS Land of flowers, land of fire. Of lava mountains and of azure seas ! Weaving webs of delicate desire, Imperial lady on a throne Of golden lotos, thou didst sit alone Watching the centuries, As one whose life was but a dream or song. While oft thy giant foes feared not to do thee wrong. But all thy beauty clothed a soul of flame; Thy cold and calm were like the glittering snows On Fuji's smouldering crest; For treasured in thy breast Was energy that never knew repose ; Thy princes went and came, Each with two swords, and terribly possessed The art to die for honor, freedom, fame. Light-hearted Europe — a barbaric boy — Bought of thee many a toy; And for the knick-knacks taught thee to employ More horrible and swifter ways to slay ; Harnessed thee lightnings and the seas subdued; [ 80 ] TO JAPAN VICTORIOUS Bade thee go cast thy gods of calm away, And joining Europe's unforgetful feud. Fight off thy foes with fire, like thy brood Of air-born dragons in Earth's primal day. Now are the dragon's teeth upon thee sown. Around thy fields of blood our plaudits roar. Thou art become as one of us ! We own Death, earth's old arbiter, our friend once more. For lo ! when thou didst launch, with well-poised hand. Thy new forged thunderbolt upon that land Where throne and people were alike in thrall, — Behold the mockery crumbled ! At thy call From their blind -eyed repose The tortured bondmen rose; And like a blood-red banner bright, A vast volcanic light Streams out of chaos round the thrones of wrong; While with fraternal song The free-born lands acclaim thy victory won : "Hail to our Sister of the Rising Sun!'* O bleeding, but invincible, arise! Pour forth more fire across the morning skies To quicken, to consume. Fruitful of doom. Kindling with death the glory Of new immortal story! [ 81 ] TO JAPAN VICTORIOUS Set the slave free ! Burn off from land and sea All that is fed on blood or bloody gold ! Save thee, our Sister ! Save thy lands and ours From ogres crowned with flowers, From clamorous vulture-powers. By whom our wailing world is half controlled, While snares of steel and fire their naked victims hold. Then, Sister, take once more Upon thy blossoming shore Thy throne of beauty on the Lotos pure; And with heroic heart. Achieve with us the art Of truth that shall endure, Of balm all plagues to cure, Of popular will subdued To sovereign peace and good. Till for late harvest our terrestrial ball Bear brotherhood for all. [ 82 ] THE MAKING OF MAN (Delivered before the ^ B K at Harvard, June, 1894) Long is the story of a ripening star; And if her sages guess their riddle true, Our green Earth tarries in the tender bud, Involving precious issues unforeseen Save this — her fruit is Man. For him, the storm Scarred the lone peak, and lashed the barren sea; For him the planet, in her cloudy prime. Endured the slow plasticity of life. Mere mindless gemmules, gross fecundity, Fierce joys of motion, shock of foe with foe. And ecstasies of stimulated sense; For him great Nature through all creatures poured Bacchantic drops of madness and desire. Which unto canticles of passion strange Surged on and on, until the rhapsody Burst the dim dreams of sense; then stirred the Soul Its wings in happy air; then wisdom woke. And love found words ; then looked the heavens on Man, Emerging from his chrysalis the brute, — Child of the Dust and Master of the World ! These miracles, like music whose full close The patient prelude justifies, prepared [ 83 ] THE MAKING OF MAN More signs and wonders. For then seemed to cease New fashions of the fleshly instrument. And Soul, henceforth contented to possess Man's body as the utmost flesh can do. Put forth intrinsic gifts. The art of words, First sign and vehicle of brotherhood, Supplanted the old, helpless monotones. And on remembered syllables of power Saved each man's truth for all. The truth-taught hand Shaped the hard flint, the mammoth brute subdued, Or seizing flame, — a half-celestial sword, — Conquered all climes, and on the kindly hearth. Found for the Sun a new vicegerent god, More exorable. So Man's kingdom grew Along vast rivers, and o'er islands green. Till in the chronicle of times forgot. His angel-tribe o'erran the finished globe; For after him the seas broke bound no more. And mountains moved not o'er the nether fire. Then rose a man-made world. The willing stone Soared into forms of worshipped loveliness; Sweet music borrowed from the choral stream Of Nature's unrestrained iEolian airs What best could flow in tempered melody. In dear, consenting numbers, oft renewed. The Poets then began : their mighty dreams [ 84 ] THE MAKING OF MAN Repeopled land and sea with shapes of gods, The eldest progeny of soul from soul. For Man's first god was his first dream of good. The disembodied glory of his mind In far-off clouds confining. By such prayers The soul was taught to feel its noblest powers Not self-begotten, not of mortal name. But from the central orb of wonder born, And all -creative Love, that cannot die. So Man's long childhood passed. The wonder was How rainbow fancies guided truth so well. And false Hesperides, or Fleece of Gold, To genuine treasures lured. Slowly, at last. Out of a chaos of dim dreams arose The sphere of Knowledge, — separable, firm, — Knowledge in demonstrable light displayed, Man's one sure standing-ground above the chasm And fathomless abyss beside his way. Each mighty people some new province won From dreams and darkness to the realms of light. The labyrinthine secrets multiplied And passed in heritage from race to race: Beneath the snow-topped Himalayan wall, In far Cathay, or on the Phrygian hills. Or 'mid the Babylonian multitude. Or shadowed shrines of immemorial Nile, [ 85 ] THE MAKING OF MAN The sons of light in nameless wisdom toiled, Till Athens laughed at Asia's priestly awe, Turned her firm forehead to the gods of dawn. Achieved for Europe's infancy the dower Of liberated reason, — then bequeathed To new-born nations her immortal name. Mighty the host of men who lived and died To conquer truth; but father of them all Prometheus was, whose dole of stolen fire So shook the skies, and touched Man's drowsy clay With such celestial spark, that since his hour Heaven keeps no secret long. Age after age Such wanderers widen our small world for us. Dim stars, but true, resistless draw them on To find that glory just outside the dark. The half- won truth men guessed but dared not know ; And God's best gift to Liberty it is, To be a fruitful mother of such sons. So rises an eternal House of Truth, For Man to live in and make beautiful; Strong arch on arch is built, and founded deep Below the shifting sands of childish guess. Its solid towers outwatch the annual stars. Oh, strange, imperial fate ! Not from the stars Falls now the charter of Man's destinies. [ 86 ] THE MAKING OF MAN His glorious horoscope himself he draws, Where'er his mind is on its throne, set free From sluggish customs of the troglodyte. Now hath our busy race that labored so Its mere first foothold on this star to prove. To higher tasks arrived. For sovereign sway Profits but little, till the Conqueror Surround his throne with chivalry and song; And Man, earth's Lord and King, must keep his crown By beauty, virtue, and fair courtesies, And o'er his brows white, royal jewels wear Of stainless truth, clear faith and steadfast will, With love's great ruby flaming over all. Through the doleful past no more Peer with fond and fearful look ! Earth hath sealed that record- book Of the guests she housed before; Her hospitable board is spread For the living, not the dead. O that the golden Muse of Song Might her old, old runes forget. And find a race of singers strong To break her Libyan reed, her Doric shell, And in more potent numbers tell A music never vocal yet! ' ... [ 87 ] THE MAKING OF MAN Oh, that her heaven-gkincing eye Looked no more on Memory ! Say not earth was born too soon. Like her pale, sequacious moon ! Not racked with age is this old earth, All her throes are throes of birth, All the secrets that she knows She lavished on her last-blown rose. Too long we blamed the barren field. Too long the winds accused, The world we live in stands revealed Exhaustless, but unused ! Yet he who curbs the lightning's force Sweats drudging at his wheel; His art foretells the comet's course. Whose own the Fates conceal. But say not Man, the ages' heir. Of his primal force can fail, — Or receiveth an entail Of decrepitude, despair! Oft the reengendered race Will improve th' ancestral place. Renovate the mansion old. And statelier revels hold. [ 88 ] THE MAKING OF MAN Freshly from the burning sun Speeds the free ethereal jBre, In each new-born life to run, Flaming high in son as sire; Man's blest blood and quality Was not of his fathers bred; Son of the round-world is he, And his good health is nourished By confluence of every wind and sea, By stars no eye hath seen, By all the Past hath been. And by the powers not yet begun to be. Already dawns the gifted, golden time To heaven-instructed seer and sibyl known, When conquering quite the monsters of the prime Man shall be man indeed, And serving human need Hold an unshaken throne O'er all false gods and tyrants of an hour. O'er plague and famine, wrath and crime. Omnipotent in peaceful power. The waves by exiles crossed, Though loudly still the ocean-thunders roll. Their ancient power have lost To stop the speech of yearning soul with soul; No island in the tropic seas Looks at the sun in solitude; [ 89 ] THE MAKING OF MAN They signal on the conscious breeze The island-brotherhood. Some future wizard will control That cold aurora of the sunless pole; O'er the Alps his station take, Of the earth his magnet make, Touch a key, and master so The universal dynamo To turn a wheel, or tell a story, Flood the midnight sea with glory. Or flash across a thousand miles The sunlight in a lover's smiles. Then where'er an exile roam. Love will always be at home. But outcasts with a heavy heart Will cross strange lands as lost stars drop through space, Where every eye may trace The pathway of their fall. A vast Arachne, the electric art Will fold in glittering web this planetary ball.^ Then shall no nation wear A glory none may share; But each shall publish to the world its best, 1 Written before Marconi's invention. [ 90 ] THE MAKING OF MAN Each ask of all the rest Glad interchange of treasures or delight; And all will have more might If one grows strong; for strength will then incite, Not envy or pretence, Not hedge-hog self-defence. But emulation in true excellence; And no man then will try a hostile blow On aught but circumstance, his oft-revanquished foe. Each land another's grief shall feel ! ^ As ever in thy woe or weal, France ! unto thee all free-born hearts are kin ; But chiefly ours, who caught the sacred flame Of liberty from thy prophetic song, And watched with thee when freedom's morn came in. " O Liberty, what crimes are in thy name ! " What prodigies of wrong ! Like Dion, fallen in a festal hour, With palm and laurel o'er his bosom crossed. Lies that pure chieftain, to his people lost. But not to glory, or his country's fame. Oft had he put to shame The sensual traffickers in power; No tinselled soldier he. Of braggart chivalry! * The body of President Carnot then lay in state. [ 91 ] THE MAKING OF MAN No borrower of mighty names outworn ! A patriot's duty such as he fulfil By fruitful industry at eve and morn. By resolute and ever loyal will, And reconcile, by many-counselled light, The public good with clamorous private right. We praise thee, France, that such a noble son Fell not by rival, nor his own rash mind. Nor by compatriot-stroke undone. But by a frenzied foe of all mankind. We, who twice, since our wild grief of war. Have heard a nation's dirges toll. Twice arrayed the sable-trophied car — Thy sister-sorrow strikes us to the soul ! Too well we know, not yet appears the day When Liberty may cast her shield away. Man against his brothers striving, Sang triumphal songs in vain. Nobler contests are arriving. Battles without hate or pain. Let the captains of to-day Lead their men to bloodless fray! Inspire the rank and file with generous faith! Not liveried for the tasks of death, But ever o'er a calmer world [ 92 ] THE MAKING OF MAN Their federating flag unfurled. Lead on the legions of the free. Not to shield the crimes of thrones. Not to lacquey royal drones. But to fulfil the dear behest Of light-uplifting Liberty — Star-crowned Colossus of the West! Already from the Future's purple cloud A vast, dim shape looms clear, It is Cosmopolisy a city proud, Not bounded by what limit man may draw. But only by the round earth's atmosphere. To either pole, her sacred speech and law Shall give decree. Her suburbs are the islands of the sea, Her hanging gardens from the Andes crown To equatorial valleys sloping down. To solace her cold Northern citizens — Who haply, on their ships of air. In sultry June will idly fare Through clouds, above the green Siberian fens. We know not how Man's life shall look In that World-City; scarce our dreams may brook The beauty and delight of times unborn. And far from ours as Europe's glacial morn, God who protecteth man [ 93 ] THE MAKING OF MAN From dizzying view of things too vast and far. Diminishes the future's star To one white beam of hope within the sky. Which we may travel by ! But one clear truth we know : However huge Man's world may grow. The mother in her babe will see A universe of mystery. Love, in love's replying eyes. Meet perennial surprise. And the circumference of the starry whole Find centre in each human soul. For God made not His world for naught, Nor to a creature did resign Co-regency with star-enkindling thought, That one more soulless orb among His hosts should shine. Man did not get his planet for a toy. By spendthrift folly to despoil The fabric of iEonian toil, — But that the choral seas and skies With his own heart should harmonize In antiphones of praise and joy! Man's terrestrial primacy Is a symbol eloquent, [ 94 ] THE MAKING OF MAN That omnipotence can be Not in powers we touch and see. Our earth-born dust of Deity partakes, Only when th' interior spirit breaks The sleep of dust's captivity, And with illuminating love. Rules the sphere, as God his spheres above In self-forgetful sovereignty. t 95 ] CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS U . S . A APE 141910 One copy del. to Cat. Div.