;>y >j \ri y LATTER-DAY LOVE SONNETS LATTER-DAY LOVE SONNETS SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY BOSTON : MCMVII Copyright, igoy, By Small, Maynard & Company, Incorporated. I^ASYoC congress] AUG 19 ««^ CCFY t3. #. P ^ The U niv er &ily Press, Cambridge, U. S. A. A SONNET ON THE SONNET [RANT me tti>ice seven splendid words, OMuset [(Like JeJt>et pauses on a rosary chains Jo tell us "where the aves start again) ; \Of these, in each verse, one I mean to use- \Like Theseus in the labyrinth — for clues To help lost Fancy striving in the brain; And, Muse, if thou 7i>ilt still so kindly deign. Make my rhymes move by courtly f^os and t^os! Oh, pardon, shades of Avon and Vaucluse, This rush- light burning ti>hereyour lamps yet shine; A sonnet should be like the cygnefs cruise On polished waters ; or like smooth old wine. Or earliest honey, garnered in May dews — And all be laid before some fair lovers shrine I Edith M. Thomas. PREFACE N selecting and arranging this anthology the compiler has had in mind a double purpose: first, to make it as representative as pos- sible of the love sonnets of our present-day poets, not omitting a few of the older generation who are still con- tributing to our poetry, and three or four who, belonging to the present period, have been cut ofT by death prematurely; and second, to group the poems as nearly as possible in sequences, in the belief that while the intrinsic beauty of the sonnets will lose nothing by this arrangement, such a thread of apparent connection may enhance the reader's interest in the volume- With the simple suggestion that the first section includes such sonnets as approach their subject in so general a manner as to forbid any other arrangement than as " songs for a prelude," it is hoped that the rapport of the other sections will be easily discerned. For the inclusion of one unrhymed sonnet and another in octosyllabic measure, the compiler believes no apology is necessary. Certainly it would be difficult to find a sonnet better fitted for a vii keynote to this collection than Mr. Burton's "The Eternal Feminine," and Mr. Lodge's "Perfect Peace" not only fits excellently into the sequence, but, except in its measure, fulfils the most exacting requirements of the sonnet. It may, however, be frankly admitted that in one or two instances where the purposes of sequence have been served, a sonnet has been used which, on its own merit, had fallen a little below the general standard; and it is much to be regretted that, owing to the unwillingness of a few owners of copyright to permit reprints, except under conditions which seemed impracticable to the publishers, some of the younger writers of the day, whose love sonnets amply deserve inclusion in such a collec- tion, are not represented. The following poems are herein printed for the first time : "Mortality," by Maud Lyons ; " Love's Patience," by Arthur Upson ; " Love's Path," by Agnes Lee; and "The Full Hope," by William Stanley Braithwaite ; the last having been written expressly for this volume. Several other sonnets are taken from practically inaccessible sources, having been printed only in limited editions for private circulation. Laurens Maynard. • .* viu ACKNOWLEDGMENTS HE thanks of the publishers are due to the authors whose poems appear in this volume, and special acknowledgments are hereby given to the following publishers for per- mission to reprint the copyrighted poems specified in the subjoined list. Mr. Richard G. Badger: Frederic Fairchild Sherman, ''The Love-Letter" (from ''Twelve Sonnets''); Virginia Wood- ward Cloud, '*An Old Street'' and "Let Me Not Be Too Sure" (from "A Reed by the River") ; Hildegarde Haw- thorne, " The Hour " and '* Reward " (from " Poems"). The Century Company: Richard Watson Gilder, "Body and Soul" (from "The New Day ") ; Marshall Illsley, " Re- linquishment " (from "The Century Magazine"). Messrs. Dodd, Mead & Company: Paul Laurence Dunbar, ^' Love " (from " Lyrics of the Hearthside "). Messrs. Duffield & Company: George Santayana, "Although I Decked a Chamber for My Bride" (from " Sonnets and Other Poems"). Messrs. D. P. Elder & Company: Irend Hardy, "A Bird Sings in My Heart" and " My Heart's Astronomer" (from "Poems"). The Harvard Advocate: Witter Bynner, "The Ancient Lovers." Messrs. Harper & Brothers: Helen Hay Whitney, "Flower of the Clove" and "With Music" (from "Son- nets and Songs"); Curtis Hidden Page, "Her Protest" (from " Harper's Magazine "). ix Messrs. Dana Estes & Company: Frederick Lawrence Knowles, ^* Love at Death's Court'' (from '*Love Tri- umphant "). The Grafton Press: Owen Innsley, ^* Love's Calendar" (from '*Love Poems and Sonnets"). Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Company: Edith M.Thomas, *' A Sonnet on the Sonnet" and '' Time " (from '' Shadow, land ") ; Florence Earle Coates, " Let Me Believe " (from '' Poems ") ; George Cabot Lodge, '* Perfect Peace " (from '' The Great Adventure") ; Edward Rowland Sill, " In Separation" (from "Poems"); Louise Imogene Guiney, *' Friendship Broken" (from "Poems"); Anna Hempstead Branch, "Divinity" and "Foreshadowed" (from "The Heart of the Road"); Lizette Woodworth Reese, "The Old Path" (from " A Handful of Lavender"). Messrs. Little, Brown, & Company: Arlo Bates, "Re- membrance" (from " Sonnets in Shadowland "). Messrs. L. C. Page & Company : Charles G. D. Roberts, "Moonlight" (from " Poems "). Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons : Stephen Henry Thayer, "Betrothed" (from "Songs of Sleepy Hollow"); Dora Read Goodale, "Confession" (from "Apple Blossoms"). Mr. William Marion Reidy : Ernest McGaffey, " Wor- ship," "Jealousy," and "In the Fields" (from "Sonnets to a Wife"). Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons: Josephine Daskam, "At Parting" (from "Poems"); George Cabot Lodge, " Tell Me Again " (from " The Song of the Wave "). Messrs. Herbert B. Turner & Company : William Stanley Braithwaite, *'On a Pressed Flower" (from " Lyrics of Life and Love "). CONTENTS A Sonnet on the Sonnet Edith M. Thomas Page V The Eternal Feminine Love and Life Love The Gentle Heart The Ancient Lovers Night on the Sea- Wall Time Tasso to Leonora Mortality Death as the Teacher of Love Lore Richard Burton . . Lloyd Mifflin .... Paul Laurence Dunbar Frank B. Sanborn . . 3 4 5 6 Witter Bynner 7 Clinton Scollard 8 Edith M. Thomas 9 Margaret L. Woods .... 10 Maud Lyons 11 Frank T. Marzials .... 12 II First Meeting Illumination One Autumn Night The First Kiss Revelation " Nature Hath Crowned Thee '* . . "I Think You Never Were of Earthly Frame" The Woman Aphrodite Love's Reckoning W^orship Love's Calendar Body and Soul, I Body and Soul, II The Aftermath " Let Me Believe " A Bird Sings in My Heart .... Juliet and Her Romeo xi Laurens Maynard 15 Sir Gilbert Parker 16 Herbert Bashford 17 Theodore Watts-Dunton . . 18 Hugh McCulloch, Jr. . . 19 Edmond Holmes .... 20 William Watson .... 21 Philip Savage 22 Sir Gilbert Parker . . . 23 Ernest McGaffey .... 24 Owen Innsley 25 Richard Watson Gilder . 26 Richard Watson Gilder 27 Samuel Waddington . . 28 Florence Earle Coates . . . 29 Irend Hardy . 30 Richard Le Gallienne . . • 31 The Love-Letter Frederic Fairchild Sherman . 32 Her Letter Sir Gilbert Parker 33 A Southern Balcony Frank Dempster Sherman . 34 Love's Patience Arthur Upson 35 Dreams George Barlow 36 A Sea Sonnet Richard Hovey 37 Betrothed Stephen Henry Thayer . . 38 Epithalamium Mary E. Richmond .... 39 Nuptial Sleep . Laurens Maynard 40 Jealousy Ernest McGaffey 41 ** Tell Me Again" George Cabot Lodge . ... 42 "All That I Know of Love" . . . Arthur Symons 43 Completion Hugh McCuUoch, Jr. ... 44 In the Fields Ernest McGaffey 45 After Business Hours Richard Hovey 46 Perfect Peace George Cabot Lodge ... 47 At Last Arthur Upson 48 Eternity for Love Warren Holden 49 Life and Death Edmond Holmes 50 HI An Old Street Virginia Woodward Cloud " Your Love Shall be Gain "... Curtis Hidden Pagej . . . To Lilith William Carman Roberts . Faith and Fate Richard Hovey Love's Path Agnes Lee 53 54 55 56 57 Love at Death's Court Frederick Lawrence Knowles 58 59 60 Young Memories Wilfred Scawen Blunt . . Regret Arthur Christopher Benson ** Although I Decked a Chamber for My Bride " George Santayana "'Why Do I Cling to Thee" . . . Wilfred Scawen Blunt In Separation Edward Rowland Sill " Love Turns to Hate, They Say " . Arthur Symons . . . When Love Dies Philip Savage . . . Untimely Love Mathilde Blind . . . 61 62 63 64 65 66 xii IV Across the Years . Lloyd Mifflin The Assignation Herbert E. Clark .... Love's Wisdom Alfred Austin At Parting Josephine Daskam . . . Relinquishment , Marshall Illsley Fare You Well, Joy Josephine Preston Peabody Friendship Broken Louise Imogen Guiney . . Meeting After Absence and Change Lilla Cabot Perry .... 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 Flower of the Clove Helen Hay Whitney Penelope Ella Dietz Clymer . . . Nocturne Jeannette Bliss Gillespy Confession Dora Read Goodale . . The Hour Hildegarde Hawthorne . Love, Death, and Art A. Mary F. Robinson . Divinity Anna Hempstead Branch " Oh, Foolish Dream '* A. Mary F. Robinson . A Desire Susan Marr Spalding . Love's Mastery Edmond Holmes . . . Ambition Grace Ellery Channing . " As Dreams the Fasting Nun " . . A. Mary F. Robinson . " Let Me Not Be Too Sure "... Virginia Woodward Cloud Reward Hildegarde Hawthorne . Her Protest Curtis Hidden Page . . With Music Helen Hay Whitney My Heart's Astronomer Irene Hardy Surrender Amelie Rives .... Foreshadowed Anna Hempstead Branch Postponement Florence Brooks , , . 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 VI Renouncement Alice Meynell The Old Path Lizette Woodworth Reese • • • XIU lOI 102 Moonlight Charles G. D. Roberts . . . 103 On a Pressed Flower William Stanley Braithwaite 104 Remembrances Arlo Bates 105 A Night Prayer Elizabeth Hale Oilman ... 106 The Awakening Lucy Lefifingwell Cable . . 107 The After-Glow Mathilde Blind 108 Love Lives in Sacrifice Emily Pfeiffer 109 Loss Mary E. Richmond .... no The Full Hope . William Stanley Braithwaite iii XIV I FEMININE OREVERshallshe beckon. Men may prate Of custom, fashion, change, — still doth she call |To high endeavour; dreams begotten thence Turn with the day To deeds chivalric; vows Are pledged eternally before this shrine Whose taper lights are stars, whose choristers Are souls bowed down with Beauty. Years on But dim the garments of her worshippers, [years The light, the lure, are constant. All too brief Is time wherein to follow from afar The way of wonder leading down to love. Look, at the alley-end she sways and smiles, Fresh as a morn-birth, fair as Paradise, — Yet ancient as the moaning of the sea. Burton "LOVE AND LIFE" From the Painting by George Frederick Watts. UFFERING and weak, what ill has come to thee, O piteous Life? Up what bloom-barren slope Cam'st thou, so deso- lately fair, to grope Thy perilous way in un- voiced agony? Behold, Love pleads ! Oh, listen to his plea ! Be lifted where thy spirit doth aspire, For thou hast reached the rose of thy desire — Love leading Life from Infelicity. O innocent One, masking thy grievous wound In touching silence, who shall dare to tell The yearning pain — the bitterness profound Of tremulous hope that looks through longing eyes Made sadder by that smile ineffable. And pathos of thine inarticulate cries ? Lloyd Mifflin. LOVE LIFE was mine full of i the close concern Of many-voiced affairs. The world sped fast; } Behind me ever rolled a [pregnant past. I A present came equipped with love to learn. lArt, science, letters, in /their turn. Each one allured me with its treasures vast ; And I staked all for wisdom, till at last Thou cam'st and taught my soul anew to yearn. I had not dreamed that I could turn away From all that men with brush and pen had wrought ; But ever since that memorable day When to my heart the truth of love was brought, I have been wholly yielded to its sway, And had no room for any other thought. Paul Laurence Dunbar. THE GENTLE HEART f Y Heart, forthlooking in the purple day, I Tell me what sweetest image there may'st see, Fit to be type of thy dear I love and thee ? Lo ! here where sunshine I keeps the wind away, Grew two young violets, — humble lovers they, — With drooping face to face, and breath to breath. They look and kiss and love and laugh at death. Yon bluebird singing on the scarlet spray Of the bloomed maple in the blithe spring air. While his mate answers from the wood of pines, And all day long their music ne'er declines; For love their labour is and love their care. ** These pass with day and spring," the true heart *' Forever thou wilt love and she be fair." [saith,— Frank B. Sanborn. THE ANCIENT LOVERS HIS was a vigorous place, with planted trees, With marble figures, and a colonnade — VV^ith fountains agile as a shimmery maid Dancing in moonlight. This was where the breeze Found lovers, happy laden with their ease Of love. And here to-morrow was to-day, To-day was yesterday ; the while decay Dragged in from shade to shade its pitted knees. No more the fountains dance, but rigid lie In mummy-cloth of moss and weeds. And see How broken is the ancient stone ! How dead The ancient vigour, this its tomb instead That was its pleasure-place. Yet by this tree Still sit the ancient lovers — you and I. Witter Bynner. NIGHT ON THE SEA-WALL THWART the bay the lAnastasia light Pencils a golden pathway up whose beams *One might ascend unto i the port of dreams, — Some vision-haven in the I heart of night. In silvery syllables the I tides recite Their luring lyrics, plaintive old-time themes Of days when hither, drawn by gold's red gleams, Spain winged her galleons on their far sea-flight Now hath the imperial aegis of her power Waned as the wasted moon adown the sky ! Here all is changed, yet strange doth it befall That Love, of yore the monarch of the hour When lips to lips make passionate reply, Is still the sovereign of the old sea-wall ! Clinton ScoUard. 8 eI TIME ' IME is no rushing torrent, dark and hoarse, As thou hast heard from bards and sages old; Sit here with me (would'st thou the truth behold) And watch the current hour run out its course. See how without uproar or sullen force Glides this slim shadowy rill of atom gold, Which, when the last slow guileful grain is told. Forever is returned unto its source ! This is Time's stream, by whose repeated fall The numbered fond ones, since the world was new. Loitered as we, unwarned of doom the while ; Would 'st think so slender stream could cover all? But as we speak, some eddy draws us, too — Meseems dim grow thine eyes and dim thy smile! Edith M. Thomas. TASSO TO LEONORA SHALL forget thee — yes, I shall forget Thee and the Heavens that glorify the night. Those silver summits trembling in the light Of the descended moon, suns that have set, Earth and the shoreless waters, all that yet Has winged my soul for her tempestuous flight — And dreams they send to seek me shall but light On some gray stone wreathed with the violet. Mingling thy dust with men that knew thee not. Of me forgetful then thou 'It not complain. And all we were shall be so much forgot They who the history of our days rehearse Shall call my grief a phantom of the brain, Thy name a flower wrought on a poet's verse. Margaret L. Woods. 10 MORTALITY [LITTLE longer dream of paradise I And bid the sweetness of f the time delay, I While thou hast heart to love ; too soon the ray Of sunlight slips from I these uncertain skies: iMake hopes at ease, and fin thy hopes surprise A living joy, the blossom of the day. Then, as thou art a lover, pause and pray That heaven and hell may yet confuse the wise. Aye, take thy dream, an opal island set In twilight deeps of sheltering mystery — If so that love and life in this have met — Thine earthly heaven thy paradise to be ; Even this last loveliness thou must forget When Death shall lay his perfect spell on thee. Maud Lyons. IX DEATH AS THE TEACHER OF LOVE LORE WAS in mid Autumn, and the woods were still. A brooding mist from out the marshlands lay Like age's clammy hand upon the day, Soddening it ; — and the [night rose dark and chill. 1 1 watched the sere leaves (falling, falling, till Old thoughts, old hopes, seem'd fluttering too away, And then I sighed to think now life's decay. And change, and time's mischances. Love might Sudden a shadowy horseman, at full speed [kill. Spurring a pale horse, passed me swiftly by. And mocking shrieked, "Thy love is dead indeed, Haste to the burial ! " — With a bitter cry I swooned, and wake to wonder at my creed. Learning from Death that Love can never die. Frank T. Marzials. 12 II 13 S one red rose within a garden fair [Blossoms sometimes, and o perfection blown Amid the wealth of flowers stands alone ; (For none can with its matchless hues compare) And coming on the beauty unaware We watch it enviously where it was grown, Yet hesitate to pluck and make our own So rich a bud of loveliness so rare ; — E'en so amid a throng of maidens sweet, [grace Whose fairness seemed when matched beside thy As light of stars before the queenly moon, Thou stood'st when first I gazed upon thy face ; And though I dared not hope so great a boon, With eager longing quick my pulses beat ! Laurens Maynard. ILLUMINATION S one would stand who saw a sudden light Flood down the world, and so encompass him, And in that world illumined Seraphim Brooded above and gladdened to his sight ; So stand I in the flame of one great thought, That broadens to my soul from where she waits. Who, yesterday, drew wide the inner gates Of all my being to the hopes I sought. Her words come to me like a summer-song, Blown from the throat of some sweet nightingale; I stand within her light the whole day long. And think upon her till the white stars fail : I lift my head toward all that makes life wise. And see no farther than my lady's eyes. Sir Gilbert Parker. i6 ONE AUTUMN NIGHT k AN r forget that glorious autumn night, [So full of joyous pain, [when you and I Stood on the shore beneath^a cloudless sky, And watched the moon, all drenched with holy light, Sail slowly up, and toss a veil of white Across the heaving sea ? — when waves rode by And pressed broad palms upon the rocks, to try And bear away the rough stone from our sight ? Ah no ! 'twas then I spoke to you of love, — My secret which you long ere that had guessed ; 'T was then I first knew passion's fiery heat And kissed your cheek, your lips, while high above A great star shook, and in its burning breast. As in my own, a red heart beat and beat. Herbert Bashford. 17 THE FIRST KISS F only in dreams may man be fully blest, Is heaven a dream ? Is she I clasped a dream? — Or stood shehere even now where dewdrops gleam And miles of furze shine golden down the West ? I seem to clasp her still — still on my breast Her bosom beats — I see the blue eyes beam; — I think she kissed these lips, for now they seem Scarce mine: so hallowed of the lips they pressed! Yon thicket's breath — can that be eglantine ? Those birds — can they be morning's choristers ? Can this be earth ? Can these be banks of furze ? Like burning bushes fired of God they shine ! I seem to know them, though this body of mine Passed into spirit at the touch of hers ! Theodore Watts-Dunton. i8 REVELATION T came upon me like a flash of sun A-piercing through the cloudy raiment spread Beneath the sky : "Why, this is love! " I said, " And this is she, the love-appointed one." I know that long before I had love begun To turn my heart to her ere I had read Its timorous path ; and so the sun had sped Behind the threatening veil the clouds had spun. Oh, who can tell the rapture of the thought That some one sitteth, murmuring my name Even as I murmur hers ? So love hath brought Our souls into the compass of one frame; We are twin spirits in one body caught, Two sister sparks of God's eternal flame. Hugh McCulloch, Jr. 19 NATURE HATH CROWNED THEE ATURE hath crowned thee with her fairest crown ; Men call thee beautiful in form and face, I Praise thy dark eyes, thy jtresses golden-brown, [Thy stately height, thy figure's buoyant grace. I see these charms, but with another sight, As symbols of a charm still unexpressed ; — See in their loveliness thy spirit's light [confessed. Burning through clouds, — half hidden, half- Should I have loved thee hadst thou been less fair? Vain question ! for thy beauty is thine own — Thine own — thy self : 't is because thou art there That all thy grace to fuller grace has grown. Thy spirit made thee beautiful, and still It moulds thy form and features to its will. Edmond Holmes. 20 I THINK YOU NEVER WERE OF EARTHLY FRAME THINK you never were of earthly frame, O truant from some charmed world unknown ! A fairy empress, you forsook your throne, Fled your inviolate court, and hither came ; Donned mortal vesture; wore a woman's name; Like a mere woman, loved; and so are grown At last a little human, save alone For the wild elvish heart not Love could tame, And one day I believe you will return To your far isle amid the enchanted sea, — There, in your realm, perhaps remember me, Perhaps forget; but I shall never learn ! I, loveless dust within a dreamless urn. Dead to your beauty's immortality. William Watson. 21 THE WOMAN APHRODITlfi MARK you coming the accustomed way, As light of grace, your head uplift and high, Gray subtlety of flame in either eye. Your hair blown golden by the windy spray ; And bright about you, darting with the play Of beams of tint most delicate and shy, A light such as above the eastern sky Heralds the day-spring and adorns the day ; Such crown as, when the gates of June unclose, Plays like the veil of rose about the rose ; A snare, of grain so delicate, so mighty. Not Ares, not Adonis might prevail. Thou art the goddess of the golden veil, Mistress of men, the woman Aphrodite. Philip Savage. 22 LOVE'S RECKONING F Death should come to me to-night, and say, " I weigh thy destiny ; behold I give One little day with this thy Love to live Then, my embrace ; or leave her for alway. And thou shalt walk a full array of years; Upon thee shall the world's large honours fall, And praises clamorous shall make for all Thy strivings rich amends." If in my ears Thou saidst, "I love thee!" I would straightway cry " A thousand years upon this barren earth Is death without her: for that day I die, And count my life for it of poorest worth." Love's reckoning is too noble to be told By Time's slow fingers on its sands of gold. Sir Gilbert Parker. 23 WORSHIP kODS, idols, fetiches of [wood and stone, [Of carven ivory and of beaten brass. They rise and fall, they flourish and they pass. Or stand disfigured in some desert lone; Creeds come and go, and on the sands are strown, And wither like the winter-shaken grass. And all such things are shadows on a glass To this one love which I for you have known. For in my pagan heart I hold you dear. More than a miser might his store of gold. Or shipwrecked tar the rescuing sail unfurled. In my religion you are worship here Beyond all gods or temples manifold — The sole and only woman in the world. Ernest McGaffey. 24 LOVE'S CALENDAR TAKE no heed of month, or week, or day, Or of the times and seasons of the year. Springtime it is with me when she is near, And winter when the clouds of absence stray Across my heaven, holding its sun at bay. The morning dawns when her dear eyes appear, And night shuts down upon me, blank and drear, When those consoling orbs are taken away. As earth is gladdened when the snows depart. When woods and meadows are no longer bare, But tender blossoms nestle in the grass. So when my Love approaches, to my heart Her balmy breath brings floods of summer air, And fresh flowers spring where'er her footsteps pass. Owen Innsley. 25 BODY AND SOUL Thou my Love, love first my lonely soul ! Then shall this too un- worthy body of mine Be loved by right and accident divine. Forget the flesh, that the pure spirit's goal J May be the spirit; let that ystand the whole Of what thou lov'st in me. So will the shine Of soul that strikes on soul make fair and fine This earthy tenement. Thou shalt extol The inner, that the outer lovelier seem. Remember well that thy true love doth fear No deadlier foe than the impassioned dream Should drive thee to him, and should hold thee near- Near to the body, not the soul of him. Love first my soul and then both will be dear. Richard Watson Gilder. 26 BODY AND SOUL II jUT, Love, for me thy jbody was the first. 'One day I wandered idly through the town, Then entered a cathedral's silence brown Which sudden thrilled ^with a strange heavenly )urst iOi lights and music. Lo that traveller durst Do nothing now but worship and fall down. He thought to rest, as doth some tired clown Who sinks in longed-for sleep, but there immersed Finds restless vision on vision of beauty rare. Moved by thy body's outer majesty I entered in thy silent, sacred shrine : 'T was then, all suddenly and unaware, Thou didst reveal, O maiden Love ! to me. This beautiful, singing, holy soul of thine. Richard Watson Gilder. 27 THE AFTERMATH T was late summer, and the grass again Had grown knee-deep, — we stood, my love and I, Awhile in silence where the stream runs by ; Idly we listened to a plaintive strain, — A young maid singing to her youthful swain, — Ah me, dead days remembered make us sigh. And tears will sometimes flow we know not why ; " If spring be past,'' I said, " shall love remain ? " She moved aside, yet soon she answered me. Turning her gaze responsive to mine own, — " Spring days are gone, and yet the grass, we see, Unto a goodly height again hath grown ; Dear Love, just so love's aftermath may be A richer growth than e'er spring-days have known/' Samuel Waddington, 28 LET ME BELIEVE ET me believe you, Love, or let me die ! If on your faith I may not rest secure, Beyond all chance of peradventure sure. Trusting your half avowals sweet and shy, As trusts the lark the pallid, dawn-lit sky. Then would I rather in some grave obscure Repose forlorn, than, living on, endure A question each dear transport to belie. It is a pain to thirst and do without, A pain to suffer what we deem unjust. To win a joy and lay it in the dust ; But there 's a fiercer pain, — the pain of doubt : From other griefs Death sets the spirit free : Doubt steals the light from immortality ! Florence Earle Coates. 29 A BIRD SINGS IN MY HEART [BIRD sings in the garden I of my heart, I And all day long I hear its Jcarol clear ; r At night it folds its gentle I wings so near, jits tender pulsings stir my (blood and start The tears within my eyes Ito think Love's art Should stay her wings with me and make so dear The rude wild bowers of my demesne, nor fear But she should find her spirit's counterpart. All day I go resolved and thinking how To make more sweet for her that garden place ; How I will pluck away the weeds, the rose Of Love to plant there for her nesting- bough ; How I will school my heart to every grace That it may be her home, her one repose. Irene Hardy. 30 JULIET AND HER ROMEO (WITH MR. DICKSEE'S PICTURE) [AKE^ this of Juliet and her Romeo/ Dear Heart of mine, for though yon budding sky Yearns o'er Verona, and so long ago That kiss was kissed ; yet |Surely Thou and I, Surely it is, whom morn- ing tears apart. As ruthless men tear tendrilled ivy down : Is not Verona warm within thy gown. And Mantua all the world save where thou art ? O happy grace of lovers of old time. Living to love like gods, and dead to live. Symbols and saints for us who follow them ; Even bitter Death must sweets to lovers give : See how they wear their tears for diadem, Throned on the star of an unshaken rhyme. Richard Le Gallienne. 31 THE LOVE-LETTER JHIS fluttering sheet of [paper, snowy white, A dove of Venus is, whose glad behest It is to bear my message on its breast Unto my Sweet across the (leagues of night. jAnd when beneath the (changing stars its flight Is done, then it shall find a downy nest Amid the laces of her gown, and rest Upon her bosom, dreaming of delight. Up then, my bird, and spread your pinions wide, The quest is happy, though the way be long ; Joy your companion is, and Love your guide. And hope within your heart beats ever strong ; Godspeed ! would I might journey at your side, And hear with you her lips repeat my song! Frederic Fairchild Sherman. 32 HER LETTER UST now a wave of perfume floated up To greet my senses, as I broke the seal Of her short letter ; and I still can feel It stir me as a saint the holy cup. The missive lies there,— but a few plain words : A thought about a song, a note of praise, And social duties such as free the days Of women ; then a thing that undergirds The phrases like a psalm : a line that reads — " I wish that you were coming ! " Why, it lies Upon my heart like blossoms on the skies, Like breath of balm upon the clover meads. The perfumed words soothe me into a dream ; My thoughts float to her on the scented stream. Sir Gilbert Parker. 33 A SOUTHERN BALCONY N the soft glow and glamour of the night I heard the sound of music down the street, lA girl's voice singing some old ballad sweet, A song of love and all of love's delight. Above me hung the moon's great blossom bright, And swarms of stars like bees came forth to greet This bloom of wonder in its blue retreat, — This world-flower with a bosom lily white* Within the plaza drowsily the purl Of fountains fell upon the fragrant air, And I, aweary of the long, hot day, Slumbered and dreamed ; and still that singing girl Sang in her balcony, — and I was there With you, sweetheart, a thousand miles away ! Frank Dempster Sherman. 34 LOVERS PATIENCE LEARN to lag behind my life's desire That I, impelled not rashly to despair, May rather guide still [hope to some sweet air Of high achievement [where with statelier fire, Nearer the stars, I my passion may aspire ! Slow-tongued Experience teaches me to bear On lips more patient Life's impatient prayer, With toiling hands to weave my dream's attire ! Yet, oh, when fragrant evening dims the world What moon-flames burn in all the lamps of dew ! What lonely roses lift their hearts impearled ! What silence waits the step and voice of you ! Then, then, all fails ; my empty arms outstart For one brief hour to crush you to my heart ! Arthur Upson. 35 DREAMS HEREFORE I love the darkness and right gladly I lay me down, and close my eyes and wait, Wait, wondering half smilingly, half sadly, What dreams will issue through the Ivory Gate. 'Tis bliss to feel that I per- chance may meet her, And talk to her, and walk with her till morn, And falling low before her feet entreat her Till dreams at daylight-advent fly forlorn ; To think that ere I wake to brave the morrow Closed eyes may feast in rapture on her face, And heart forget its pain, and soul its sorrow, And life its labour, for some little space. While I, with lips half parted with delight Follow my lady through the halls of night. George Barlow. 361 .-^ SEA SONNET OON of my midnight ! Moon of the dark sea, Where like a petrel's ghost my sloop is driven ! Behold, about me and under and over me, The darkness and the waters and the heaven — Huge, shapeless mon- sters as of worlds in birth, Dragons of Fate, that hold me not in scope — Bar up my way with fierce, indifferent mirth. And fall in giant frolic on my hope. Their next mad rush may whelm me in the wave, The dreaded horror of the sightless deep — Only thy love, like moonlight, pours to save My soul from the despairs that lunge and leap. Moon of my night, though hell and death assail. The tremble of thy light is on my sail. Richard Hovey. 37 BETROTHED J FT have I seen her when her artless art Would seem to tell her secret to the eye ; lOr when her breast, ro'erburdened with its sigh, Should press to breathe Ithe language of the heart ; /And yet it was her jhighest joy to part From friend, even her dearest kin, and hie To solitudes of Eden-thought, and lie In wait for finer notes of Love ; then start Like frightened fawn at fancied sound of voice. To seek a covert, where, again alone, Secure, she 'd dream of him her plighted choice, Plead to herself the bliss she dare not own ; At last to end her revery in tears — Ideals of the long-expectant years ! Stephen Henry Thayer. 38 EPITHALAMIUM GO D of love and wonder f Ji)ho from far Hast draivn these fii>o together for thy praise )And their delight t do thou beset ] their 7i>ays With joys and duties. May no errors mar yTheir blissful course ; more , blest than brightest star They all unconsciously thy 'twill obey* May they obedient spend their shining days. Knowing their Father^ and from ^whence they are* May each inspire the other to be true. Brave and benignant in the midst of strife; Mild to resign andl^aitj but strong to lift The burdened from the dust* Do thou renew Their politer and hope for a completer life In Love the Giver and in Love the gift* Mary E. Richmond. 39 NUPTIAL SLEEP j S in the dusky night I ope mine eyes And gather back my thoughts from idle dreams Thy sleeping face beside Ime pillowed seems, ISuch phantasy as in my [dreams did rise ; JAnd I a moment won- ^dering gaze and fear Thy form will fade. I touch the silken hair Which shines about thy face, an aureole fair, And wonder still thou dost not disappear : But as I fold thee to my breast and see The wealth of love within thy wakened eyes, — As waters deep reflect the boundless skies, — And crush thy lips with kisses sweet to me, I know my bliss is real, that dreams are o'er. And I am thine, thou mine, forevermore ! Laurens Maynard. 40 JEALOUSY F to be jealous is to hope to gain Your every longing — make all other men As misty to your memory as when The shadows slip across a window-pane ; If to be jealous is to wish to reign Your one true lover, chide me once again. Call me as jealous as Othello then And all your chiding will be given in vain. For I am one who cannot hide my thought And curb my tongue and make my cheek a liar ; The tissue of my nature was not wrought Of lifeless clay, devoid of Pagan fire, And long in storm and anguish have I sought And now have found at last my Heart's Desire. Ernest McGaff ey. 41 TELL ME AGAIN ^ELL me again, and then lift up to me Those frail white arms of thine and touch my face, And wrap me wholly in thine eyes' embrace, [Till God's sure hand runs Ifire round me and thee. Tell me again, and let thy [speaking be A faint phrased echo, delicate as lace. Of seas sonorous through the void of space. The low, lost rhythm of immensity. Tell me again, and where thy breasts divide Pillow my weariness — the breath of fall Shall blow crisp crimson leaves upon thy hair; Thy presence is as where a song has died. And left its memory grieving over all This vital solitude of autumn air. George Cabot Lodge. 42 ALL THAT I KNOW OF LOVE [LL that I know of love I learnt of you, [And I know all that lover lever knew, [Since, passionately loving Ito be loved, JThe subtlety of your wise [body moved My senses to a curiosity, 1 And your wise heart adorned itself for me. Did you not teach me how to love you, how To win you, how to suffer for you now. Since you have made, as long as life endures, My very nerves, my very senses, yours ? I suffer for you now with that same skill Of self-consuming ecstasy, whose thrill (May Death some day the thought of it remove ! ) You gathered from the very hands of Love. Arthur Symons. 43 COMPLETION LOVED your body for its gracious might, Its suppleness, and for the ivast repose That were to me as per- fume, music, light, Complete in all things as |a perfect rose. I loved your heart, since it was utter truth, And felt no need to mask itself, or lie ; I loved it for its openness of youth. Which never stooped to flatter or decry. I loved your mind for its audacity. Not caring what the world might choose to think; Determined its own monitor to be ; Disdaining from frequented wells to drink. And all these three, which made one rounded I loved together, for I loved your soul. [whole, Hugh McCulloch, Jr. 44 THE FIELDS HEN on the hills the golden sunlight lies And apple trees are heavy ith the snow Of drifted bloom that shades the grass below, While far above are realms of cloudless skies ; When overhead the wan- dering swallow flies, And butterflies in loops of colour go ; Then as we wait together, do I know Some touch, some hint, some gleam of Paradise. The sweet song-sparrow from the poplar sings, The swaying leaves put forth their emerald shields, Each trembling blossom where the barred bee clings Its store of sweets through drowsy hours yields ; What sense of life, what joy that almost stings With you and I, there, loitering in the fields. Ernest McGaffey. 45 AFTER BUSINESS HOURS HEN I sit down with thee at last alone, Shut out the wrangle of the clashing day, The scrape of petty jars that fret and fray. The snarl and yelp of brute beasts for a bone ; When thou and I sit down at last alone, And through the dusk of rooms divinely gray Spirit to spirit finds its voiceless way, As tone melts meeting in accordant tone, — Oh, then our souls, far in the vast of sky, Look from a tower, too high for sound of strife Or any violation of the town. Where the great vacant winds of God go by, And over the huge misshapen city of life Love pours his silence and his moonlight down. Richard Hovey. 46 PERFECT PEACE E loved too perfectly for praise The spread of noon's sun-startled sea, We loved the large tranquillity Of flowing distances and days. In calm, dark sunsets or the blaze Of moonlit waves, the ecstasy And spacious thought of liberty Thrilled us in deep and silent ways. We loved too much for song or speech The stars' exalted loneliness, And in the tacit tenderness Of hearts thrown open each to each We found the perfect peace that brings A foretaste of eternal things. George Cabot Lodge. 47 AT LAST S the clear fountain sparkles on the hill In some flowered basin, at a cool, sweet height, Yet comes from we guess I not what galleried night, [Devious, untraced, and [altogether ill, — iSo doth my love from /other days distill, Through channels occult groping up to light, Deeming all labours past as thrice requite If once thou stoop thy hollowed hand to fill ! Clear eyes that bend upon my love thou hast, And I would have them cloudless of dismay ; I thank the chastenings of that cryptic past Where those soiled waters crept their stains away,- Those slandered days, whose riddle, now, at last, Grows plain before this fair and final day ! Arthur Upson. 48 ETERNITY FOR LOVE TONGUE-TIED Love, too slow, too poor of speech, What wealth of meaning hast thou left unsaid ; What longing looks all blindly left unread Until the well-beloved is out of reach ! [And though love's in- tuition lend to each A clew whereby he cannot be misled, How oft the opportunity is fled Ere willing hand can do what heart may teach ! Surcharged regret, thy self-reproach forbear Couldst wish love's every duty fully done, No further use for fond affection's care ? On short-lived earth the work is scarce begun ; And bounteous heaven hath endless days to spare For service to thy best beloved one. Warren Holden. 49 LIFE AND DEATH TRONGER than life is death, for all things die. Stronger than death is life, for death is nought. Life, — what is life ? A flash that streaks the sky. Death, — what is death ? A name, a haunting thought. Stronger than life is death, for death subdues Life's flaring torchlight with its argent rays. Stronger than death is life, for life renews Through death the fire springs of its vanished days. Stronger than life is love, for love's warm breath Kindles and keeps aglow life's myriad fires. Stronger than death is love, for love through death Kindles a larger life when life expires. Life, — what is life ? Love's foreglo w in the skies. Death, — what is death? Love dawning on our eyes. Edmond Holmes. 50 i Ill 51 HE past walks here, noiseless, unasked, alone ; Knockers are silent, and beside each stone Grass peers,unhamied by lagging feet and slow That with the dawn and dark pass to and fro, iThe Past walks here, un- seen forevermore. Save by some heart who, in her half closed door, Looks forth and hears the great pulse beat afar, — The hum and thrill and all the sounds that are, And listening remembers, half in fear, As a forgotten tune re-echoes near. Or from some lilac bush a breath blows sweet Through the unanswering dusk, the voiceless street, — Looks forth and sighs,— with candle held above,— " It is too late for laughter, — or for love." Virginia Woodward Cloud. "YOUR LOSS SHALL BE GAIN" LITTLE girl I might have loved, and won, And cherished through the many changing years, I seek you where you hide, behind the tears Within a woman's eyes — and long to run And lure you out to laugh and play in the sun. Till you forget, and childhood reappears. And yet I would not change what pains and fears And strong pure will that conquers shame, have done. For who can dare to count the wondrous sum Of perfect love hid in a woman's heart Grown strong through pain to know love's deepest The years, the inevitable years, have come [lore? And robbed, yet given. I take all, not part. And love the child, yet love the woman more. Curtis Hidden Page. 54 TO LILITH EHIND such various vesture of strange dreams Abides my soul, I know not its true form ; Nor have I faith it is the thing it seems — Now hushed in calm, now crying of the storm. Forevermore the dreams are as a veil Of strangely wrought enchantment to my ken, Wherethrough my soul's eyes make my being Or bid me wanton with my joys again. [quail, I have no knowledge of the thing it is. Whether it be of fiend or angel born ; This much I know, beloved, only this : Beneath thy touch, of all its power shorn. It yields glad captive to the joy that lies Sweet on thy ruining lips and laughing eyes. William Carman Roberts. 55 FAITH AND FATE O horse, my dear, and out into the night! Stirrup and saddle and away, away ! Into the darkness, into the affright. Into the unknown on our trackless way ! Past bridge and town missiled with flying feet, Into the wilderness our riding thrills ; The gallop echoes through the startled street, And shrieks like laughter in the demoned hills ; Things come to meet us with fantastic frown. And hurry past with maniac despair ; Death from the stars looks ominously down — Ho, ho, the dauntless riding that we dare ! East, to the dawn, or west or south or north ! Loose rein upon the neck of Fate — and forth ! Richard Hovev. 56 LOVE'S PATH ONG parted are the shadows of the night, That bore away my dreams to other air. The cheated hours of life are lying bare, And what was far and fashioned out of sight Stark in the day is pitilessly bright ; Hypocrisy, so foul she seemeth fair, Walketh with pure pale blossoms in her hair, While Truth remains a thing of mould and blight. Think not mine eyes are veiled to earth's intrigues, That blindness led me to thee all the way. But long the new sands reach, the old retire. And many leagues have barred out many leagues, And all my soul speeds forth to thee to-day, A strong, white love, flown undismayed through fire. Agnes Lee. 57 i LOVE AT DEATH'S COURT IF Love were jester at the I court of Death, And Death the king of all, still would I pray, " For me the motley and the bauble, yea. Though all be vanity las the Preacher saith, I The mirth of Love be mine I for one brief breath ! '' Then would I kneel the monarch to obey. And kiss that pale hand, should it spare or slay ; Since I have tasted love, what mattereth ! But if, dear God ! this heart be dry as sand. And cold as Charon's palm holding Hell's toll. How worse, how worse ! Scorch it with sorrow's brand ! Haply, though dead to joy, 't would feel that coal ; Better a cross, and nails through either hand, Than Pilate's palace and a frozen soul ! Frederick Lawrence Knowles, 58 iSESSCS .ad YOUNG MEMORIES [LITTLE honey ! Ay, a little sweet, I A little pleasure when the /years were young, r A joyous measure trod by [dancing feet, I A tale of folly told by a floved tongue, — These are the things by Iwhich our hearts are wrung More than by tears. Oh, I would rather laugh. So I had not to choose such tales among Which was most laughable. Man's nobler half Resents mere sorrow. I would rather sit With just the common crowd that watch the play And mock at harlequin and the clown's wit. And call it tragedy and go my way. I should not err, because the tragic part Lay not in these, but sealed in my own heart. Wilfred Scawen Blunt. 59 REGRET HOLD it now more shameful to forget Than fearful to remember; if I may Make choice of pain, my Father, I will pray That I may suffer rather than regret ; And this dull aching at my heart to-day Is harder far to bear than when I set My passionate heart some golden thing to get And, as I clasped it, it was torn away. " The world is fair," the elder spirit saith, *' The tide flows fast, and on the further shore Wait consolation and surprises rare." But youth still cries, " The love that was my faith Is broken, and the ruined shrine is bare And I am all alone forevermore." Arthur Christopher Benson. 60 ALTHOUGH I DECKED A CHAMBER FOR MY BRIDE [LTHOUGH I decked a chamber for my bride And found a moonlit gar- den for the tryst Wherein all flowers looked happy as we kissed, iHath the deep heart of me [been satisfied ? tThe chasm betwixt our rspirit yawns as wide Though our lips meet, and clasp thee as I list The something perfect that I love is missed, And my warm worship freezes into pride But why — O waywardness of nature ! — why Seek farther in the world ? I had my choice, And we said we were happy, you and I, Why in the forest should I hear a cry. Or in the sea an unavailing voice, Or feel a pang to look upon the sky ? George Santayana. 6i WHY DO I CLING TO THEE? HY do I cling to thee, sad love ? Too long I Thou bringest me neither pleasure to my soul Nor profit to my reason save in song, My daily utterance. See, j thy beggar's dole Of foolish tears cannot I my tears cajole; Thy laughter doth my laughter grievous wrong ; Thy anger angereth me ; thou heapest coal Of fire upon my head the drear night long With thy forgiveness. What is this thou wilt? Mine ears have ceased to hear, my tongue to speak. And naught is left for my spent heart to do. Love long has left the feast ; the cup is spilt. Let us go too. The dawn begins to break. And there is mockery in this heaven of blue. Wilfred Scawen Blunt. 62 IN SEPARATION I HE bliss that happy lovers dream will bloom i Forever new shall scarce I outlast the year: [ Their calmer kisses wake nor smile nor tear ; I Love's nesting-place al- 1 ready is its tomb, [Since sated eyes grow [weary of their prey, And constant vows their own best hopes betray, And love's June lily, marred but by a breath, Falls where the other lilies lie in death. Therefore the doom of land and sea that bar My life from hers I do accept. At least No passion will rise jaded from the feast, My pure respect no passing fires can stain ; So without hope I love her, without pain. Without desire, as one might love a star. Edward Rowland Sill. 63 LOVE TURNS TO HATE, THEY SAY OVE turns to hate, they say ; and surely I Have cause enough to hate you till I die. Do you not hate me ? Must I not hate you ? Show me the way it 's done and I '11 outdo Your bravest. But what 's this ? If I surprise, Not tears in these inexorable eyes ? Ah ! by these tears, think not that we shall bring So dear a love to be an outcast thing. Love turns to hate : I would it turned to hate ! We were not then so wholly desolate. You will not let me love you ; yet now, see, If hate be not impossibility. What shall we do, O God in heaven above. Who cannot hate, and yet who may not love ? Arthur Symons. 64 WHEN LOVE DIES HEN Love dies, and the funeral plumes are set, And mourners come to take you by the hand Regard them not ; they do not understand Who bid you bless your sorrow and forget. When Love has died (if Love should die !) regret Will bind you broken in the former land. And warp your life with one supreme command To tend the dead in Love's dark oubliette. For you have loved, and all your life is altered ; And you have lost, and appetite unfed Will drive you seeking solace with the dead. Be there your life ; and know that, having faltered, You seek among the living folk in vain. For Love is dead. You shall not meet again. Philip Savage. 65 UNTIMELY LOVE [EACE, throbbing heart, I nor let us shed one tear O'er this late love's un- iseasonable glow ; Sweet as a violet blooming in the snow, [The posthumous offspring 1 of the widowed year, iThat smells of March I when all the world is sere, And, while around the hurtling sea- winds blow — Which twist the oak and lay the pine tree low — Stands childlike in the storm and has no fear. Poor helpless blossom orphaned of the sun, How could it thus brave winter's rude estate? Oh Love, more helpless Love, why bloom so late, Now that the flower-time of the year is done? Since thy dear course must end when scarce begun. Nipped by the cold touch of untoward fate. Mathilde Blind- 66 IV 67 ACROSS THE YEARS HE old rememberable barn — how gray It loomed above the orchard and the spring ! — The orchard where the |robin used to sing, Building his nest beneath the blossomed spray. 'Where are the rosebud maidens of that day? Some, like the birds, afar have taken wing ; Some sleep below, but memories oft they bring Faint as remembered odours of the hay. Ah, yet once more across the shadowy years She meets me in the gloaming ! Down the lane We hear the dropping of the pasture bars ; It is the trysting hour, and kindly stars Bloom in the twilight trees . . . O Love ! O Tears ! O Youth that was— that will not come again! Lloyd Mifflin. THE ASSIGNATION HE darkness throbbed that night with the great heat, And my heart throbbed at thought of what should be ; The house was dumb, the lock slid silently ; I only heard the night's hot pulses beat lAround me as I sped with quiet feet Down the dark corridors ; and once the sea Moaned in its slumber, and I stayed, but she Came forth to meet me lily-white and sweet. Was there a man's soul ever worth her kiss ? Silent and still I stood, and she drew near. And her lips mixed with mine, and her sweet breath Fanned my hot face, and afterward I wis. What the sea said to us I did not hear ; But now I know it spake of Doom and Death. Herbert E. Clarke. 70 LOVE'S WISDOM O W on the summit of love's topmost peak Kiss we and part ; no further can we go : 'And better death than we from high to low Should dwindle or decline from strong to weak. We have found all, there is no more to seek ; All have we proved, no more is there to know ; And Time could only tutor us to eke Out rapture's warmth with custom's afterglow. We cannot keep at such a height as this ; For even straining souls like ours inhale But once in life so rarefied a bliss. What if we lingered till Love's breath should fail ! Heaven of my earth ! one more celestial kiss Then down by separate pathways to the vale. Alfred Austin. 71 AT PARTING H, all too well beloved, at last I know That for us two the part- ing of the ways Has come, and brought the ending of sweet days. Bid me good-bye, and \loose my hand, and go. 'o-day's fair peak we ran to climb, and low Before us, glowing in our last sun's rays, The path slopes down, nor undivided stays; The path slopes down, but separate and slow. Henceforward you and I alone must fare. Nay, look not all so sad ! Was ever done A deed to merit all that we have won Of joy? I tell you, there are those whose prayer Is nightly on their knees that they might bear Our shadow, could they but have known our sun ! Josephine Daskam. 7a RELINQUISHMENT 'HE hardest gift that any man can give Is to give back the heart he wins in vain ; To yield with grace [what he may not retain When low consent turns Ipleading negative ; JTo slip the latch where [joy had come to live — Sweet singing Joy, that with so dear disdain Flooded with melody its small domain, It seemed love could for liberty retrieve. But liberty weighed more than love's exchange, And such a longing did the song betray. Regretful, tender ; tender, appealing, strange — What could the soul of any captor say ? Go, beauteous, winged, singing Joy, go range ; Your cage is open, little bird, away ! Marshall lUsley. 73 FARE YOU WELL, JOY O W fare you well, my joy, that would not stay ; Count it as nothing I besought you so. The place is dim, the needy fire burns low ; Go hand in hand with the unheeding day. It is mine own heart's fault that must alway Nest on the edge of all the winds that blow. Forgetful that there comes a day of snow ; Forgetful that the young year must grow gray. But joy 's so rare that it has taught me thrift ; No moth lays waste my rich remembering ; And I may see, with quiet eyes uplift, — Some even, when the fire takes heart to sing, — The dusk all white with petalled snow adrift Like the dear ghost of young unburied Spring. Josephine Preston Peabody. 74 FRIENDSHIP BROKEN E chose the faint chill morning, friend and friend, Pacing the twilight out beneath an oak. Soul calling soul to judgment; and we spoke Strange things and deep as any poet penned. Such truth as never truth again can mend. Whatever arts we win, what gods invoke ; It was not wrath, it made nor strife nor smoke : Be what it may, it had a solemn end. Farewell, in peace. We of the self-same throne Are foemen vassals ; pale astrologers. Each a wise sceptic of the other's star. Silently, as we went our ways alone, The steadfast sun, whom no poor prayer deters, Drew high between us his majestic bar. Louise Imogen Guiney. 75 MEETING CHANGE AFTER ABSENCE AND AN I indeed be I, and you be you, Happy yet parted ? This far stranger seems jThan all the wild imagin- lings of dreams, And yet your face that once so well I knew Smiles through the whirl- ing darkness — yes 'tis true! The past is past — and memory without pain Wakes as I feel my hand in yours again And pictures in my mind our last adieu. With trembling voice, cold hand, and paling cheek You said good-bye at sunset — and alone Went stumbling down the hill to meet the night, And I — I watched the ever- fading light And felt my heart slow turning into stone And waved the last farewell I could not speak. Lilla Cabot Perry. 76 77 FLOWER OF THE CLOVE [7H, Love, have pity!— I am but a child; I ask but light and laugh- ter, and the tears Darken the sunlight of my fairest years. By Love made desolate, by Love beguiled, I waste the spring. Love's harvest wains are piled With poppies and gold grain — I glean but fears Of empty hands, grim hunger, and the jeers Of happy wives whose loves are reconciled. But mine! Ah, mine is like a tattered leaf Upon a turbid stream. I have no pride, No life, but love, which is a bitter grief. As a lost star I wander down your sky. Give me your heart. Open it wide — so wide ! I must have love and laughter, or I die. Helen Hay Whitney. PENELOPE [EN ELOPE sat weaving fall the day Her web ; and I weave Jmine of tender thought, I And many a quaint device jby me is wrought [Of Fancy's golden threads. [What will he say I when he shall come? I Will he entreat and pray To see the legend ? Will his heart be taught By it ? Night comes and brings me naught ; I must unweave : Ulysses is away, But when my hero shall at last have come, And his dear eyes have proved my colours true, I wonder will my stammering lips be dumb. My heart's great love unspoken ? Then must you, Dear woven thing, keep eyes and blushing cheek To tell him all I feel, but cannot speak. Ella Dietz Clymer. 80 NOCTURNE [PEAK softly, Sweet, and bid the lutes play low ; I Let the low laughter live ibut in your eyes ; JDusk be the air and dim [where, spirit- wise, I Move we in noiseless jpassage to and fro. [One lies asleep beside the ^fountain's flow. Lulled by the murmurous water's fall and rise ; Him may we not awake to other guise Than this still shape that doth not hear or know. Fair on the borders of a dream he lies. Loth to let slip the ways by which he came. Stilling each sense that seeks the world of men. Hush, Sweet ! — no whisper — nay, no speech of eyes- Lest, roused at last by mention of his name. Love shall awake that will not sleep again. Jeannette Bliss Gillespy. 8i CONFESSION ELIEVE me, dear, un- yielding though I be, Ambitions flourish only in the sun — In noisy daylight every Irace is run, I With lusty pride for all the iworld to see. ^hen darkness sinks the iearth in mystery ; When eye or ear or sight or sound is none, But death, a tide that waits to bear us on, And life, a loosening anchor in the sea. When time and space are huge about the soul, And ties of custom lost beyond recall. And courage as a garment in the flame, Then all my spirit breaks without control, Then the heart opens, then the hot tears fall To prove me wholly woman that I am. Dora Read Goodale. 82 THE HOUR HE slow, sweet hour that shrines the setting sun, Or that which broods above the summer noon Perfect in golden beauty — gone too soon After its vanished sisters ! or the one Long looked for, when the meavy day is done, That comes, dim-lighted by the rising moon, And fragrant with the roses born to June, To whisper sorrow past and joy begun ; Nor these, nor any, do I name the best ; But if an hour shall dawn that sees us meet. That brings us close, thou, all unknown, yet mine. Stranger, yet most myself ! above the rest — Above that hour which sees us at Love's feet — I '11 set it, token of the Power Divine. Hildegarde Hawthorne. 83 LOVE, DEATH, AND ART |ORD, give me Love ! [give me the silent bliss lOf meeting souls, of an- swering eyes and hands ; IThe comfort of one heart [that understands ; I The thrill and rapture of [Love's sealing kiss. [Or grant me — lest I (weary of all this — The quiet of Death's unimagined lands, Wherein the longed-for Tree of Knowledge stands. Where Thou art, Lord — and the great mysteries. Nay, let me sing, my God, and I '11 forego. Love's smiling mouth. Death's sweetlier smiling Better my life long mourn in glorious woe, [eyes. Than love unheard in a mute Paradise — - For no grief, no despair, can quail me long. While I can make these sweet to me in song. A. Mary F. Robinson. 84 DIVINITY Y silences are not my own, for lo Thy speech is in them always ; I abide In waiting for thee, as the eventide Expects the dew ; and that thou art, I know, And what thou art I know not, but I go Hearing thy voice always, far and wide. Strange in its bidding, not to be denied, Deeper than thought, since thou wilt have it so. For when my thoughts are silent every one. Like vanished rain, and all my heart is bare Of any wistful dream that comes and goes. Thy speech falls on me subtle as the sun. And I receive thee as the summer air Is touched with the slow blooming of the rose. Anna Hempstead Branch. 85 OH, FOOLISH DREAM [H, foolish dream, to hope that such as I [Who answer only to thine easiest moods (Should fill thy heart, as I o'er my heart there broods The perfect fulness of thy .memory! I flit across thy soul as [white birds fly Across the untrodden desert solitudes : A moment's flash of wings ; fair interludes That leave unchanged the eternal sand and sky. Even such to thee am I ; but thou to me As the embracing shore to the sobbing sea, Even as the sea itself to the stone-tossed rill. But who, but who shall give such rest to thee ? The deep mid-ocean waves perpetually Call to the land, and call unanswered still. A. Mary F. Robinson. 86 A DESIRE ET me not lay the lightest feather's weight Of duty upon Love. Let not, my own, The breath of one reluctant kiss be blown Between our hearts. I would not be the gate That bars, like some inexorable fate, The portals of thy life ; that says, " Alone Through me shall any joy to thee be known.*' Rather the window, fragrant early and late With thy sweet, clinging thoughts, that grow and twine Around me, like some bright and blooming vine : Through which the sun shall shed his wealth on thee In golden showers; through which thou may'st look out Exulting in all beauty, without doubt. Or fear, or shadow of regret from me. Susan Marr Spalding. 87 LOVE'S MASTERY I Y love must love be jmastered, fire by fire, Passion by passion. When the heart grows warm, Its flame must quench the flame of its desire, Its new-found strength must quell the gathering jstorm. I Not law, not duty, not the warning voice Of saint or angel keeps love's compass true : Reckless of fate, love makes its fateful choice : To love alone is love's allegiance due. Love's power alone can make love's passion pure; Love's voice alone can bid love's tumult cease ; Love's pain alone can make love's bliss endure ; Love's fire alone brings to love's fever peace. O Love ! inflame my heart, and set it free From every wild unhallowed dream of thee. Edmond Holmes. 88 AMBITION |0 have enriched his life by one sweet hour ; By one glad hope to have lo'ergilt his gray ; [Chased but one darkening shadow from his day ; To his long winter given one single flower ; And bride-like to have 'brought him but the dower Of one brief moment's bliss, which would not stay But even as he clasped it fled away And left behind not e'en a memory's power ; To know that once, through me, he drained delight ; That once, because of me, his earth was heaven ; And in the compass of one day or night By gift of mine was infinite rapture given ; — O crowned reward ! O rich indemnity ! Paying life, death, and all eternity. Grace EUery Channing. 89 DREAMS THE FASTING NUN IS dreams the fasting nun of Paradise, And finds her gnawing [hunger pass away, [In thinking of the happy [bridal day JThat soon shall dawn (upon her watching eyes ; Jo, dreaming of your love, i/do I despise Harshness or death of friends, doubt, slow decay, Madness, — all dreads that fill me with dismay And creep about me oft with fell surmise. For you are true, and all I hoped you are, O perfect answer to my calling heart ! And very sweet my life is, having thee. Yet must I dread the dim end shrouded far ; Yet must I dream: should once the good planks start. How bottomless yawns beneath the boiling sea ! A. Mary F. Robinson. 90 LET ME NOT BE TOO SURE ET me not be of life's bequest too sure, Nor hazard on a frail to- morrow's light, But answering day's be- hest forget its lure, Lest there shall rise no stars upon my night ; Let me not rest on joy's improvidence, Nor build upon the fabric of a dream. Nor time's irrevocable coin cast hence. However near its fair fulfilment seem ; Thou, who alone hast ward of certainties. Let me not spend of gift or grace too soon. Nor squander any sweet that therein lies, But for high service keep the utmost boon. Lest I shall be too sure, — or seek to prove. And break the alabaster box of love ! Virginia Woodward Cloud. 91 REWARD [LL they who walk in joy or in despair [The ways of life, through [shadow and through light, [Ask for some boon, some guerdon, some delight, JTo crown their living. Tempted by the glare Some seek but gold ; for ifame some greatly dare ; While nobly others toil to help the right, To strengthen truth, to gain a finer height Of wisdom. But to me this seems most fair And above all life's gifts I would choose this : That one with Love's deep voice should turnand say, When night drew down and it was time to rest: "Sweet, you have helped me," bending down to kiss My clinging hands, "and but for you the way Would have been barren — you have made it blest." Hildegarde Hawthorne. 92 HER PROTEST HRONE me not so apart, my poet-king, Nor on so high a dais — see, I reach Impotent arms of yearning • — while you sing Your fealty, we are distant each from each. Build me no altars, O my worshipper ! Here in the cloistered church's dim alcove You heap my shrine with frankincense and myrrh And stifle me for lack of simple love. And set me not to be your guiding-star Beyond the spaces where the heavens unfold. Who knows but many a light that comes so far Has left its source long since burnt out and cold ? Not Queen, Saint, Star — let me be none of those, But just your human love, held close, held close. Curtis Hidden Page. 93 WITH MUSIC JHEAR, did we meet in some 3k] dim yesterday ? I half remember how the birds were mute Among green leaves and tulip-tinted fruit, And on the grass, beside a stream, we lay In early twilight ; faintly, far away, Came lovely sounds adrift from silver lute, With answered echoes of an airy flute, While Twilight waited tiptoe, fain to stay. Her violet eyes were sweet with mystery. You looked in mine, the music rose and fell Like little, lisping laughter of the sea; Our souls were barks, wind wafted from the shore — Gold cup, a rose, a ruby, who can tell ? Soft — music ceases — I recall no more. Helen Hay Whitney. 94 MY HEART'S ASTRONOMER |S Dante's soul uplifted, whiter grew When thinking Beatrice's prayer would be For his ennobling, so mine turns to thee, My heart's astronomer, to find the clue To guiding stars yet hidden from my view, But risen to thine. The clouded orbs I see Through mists of earth, barely suffice to me To show the devious path I still pursue. Could I conspire with the archangel there Before my heart's flamed-guarded paradise ! Fear not, sweet spirit; I should walk unshod Its ways, and kneeling where thou kneeVst at If I should hear my faltered name, arise [prayer, Assured of life, of love, of thee, of God. Irene Hardy. 95 SURRENDER 'AKE all of me — I am thine own — heart, soul, Brain, body — all; all that I am or dream Is thine forever; yea, though space should teem With thy conditions, I 'd fulfill the whole — Were to fulfill them to be loved of thee. Oh, love me ! — were to love me but a way To kill me — love me ; so to die would be To live forever. Let me hear thee say Once only, " Dear, I love thee '' — then all life Would be one sweet remembrance, — thou its king : Nay thou art that already, and the strife Of twenty worlds could not uncrown thee. Bring, O Time ! my monarch to possess his throne. Which is my heart and for himself alone. Am^lie Rives. 96 i FORESHADOWED HAT ? Thou art jealous of my past, while yet I was unknown to thee, Iwhile my first years 'Were sweet without thee, and with my own tears. Not thine, Beloved, my young eyes were wet ? But I can tell thee that before we met Thy splendour dropped athwart those golden spheres Which were my childhood. All my joys and fears Were strangely double. I shall not forget That look I loved so in my mother's eyes. Her glance I think did so contain thine own I felt a dim foreshadowing cast on me And read thy star concealed amid her skies. I cannot remember that first look alone Without some reminiscences of thee. Anna Hempstead Branch. 97 POSTPONEMENT I E great hours that are few [and full of love, j I see you as you rise supremely fraught, ' Out of the darkened pool [that is my thought, I Into the silver heaven [spread above. ^Rise and be glorified las ye remove. From human bondage ye should not be sought, Nor evermore by my volition brought From regions where your perfect periods move. O lesser moments, smooth your petty way As 't were a blessed prairie for my feet. So that my steps shall linger not nor stay Until the day when time shall show the road Leading sublime where blisses lost and sweet Hold the high heaven in their divine abode ! Florence Brooks. 98 VI 99 IRENOUNCEMENT MUST not think of thee; and, tired yet strong, I shun the love that lurks in all delight — The love of thee— and in the blue Heaven's height, And in the dearest pas- sage of a song. Oh, just beyond the sweet- est thoughts that throng This breast, the thought of thee waits hidden, yet But it must never, never come in sight; [bright; I must stop short of thee the whole day long, But when sleep comes to close each difficult day. When night gives pause to the long watch I keep, And all my bonds I needs must loose apart, Must doff my will as raiment laid away, — With the first dream that comes with the first I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart, [sleep Alice Meynell. THE OLD PATH LOVE! OLove! this way has hints of you In every bough that stirs, in every bee, Yellow and glad, droning 'the thick grass through, In blooms red on the bush, white on the tree ; And when the wind, just now, came soft and fleet. Scattering the blackberry blossoms, and from some Fast darkening space that thrush sang sudden sweet. You were so near, so near, yet did not come ! Say is it thus with you, O friend, this day ? Have you, for me that love you, thought or word? Do I, with bud or bough, pass by your way ; With any breath of brier or note of bird ? If this I knew, though you be quick or dead. All my sad life would I go comforted. Lizette Woodworth Reese. 102 .^j MOONLIGHT HE fifers of these amethystine fields, \A/^hose far fine sound the night makes musical, Now while thou wak'st and longing would'st recall Joys that no rapture of remembrance yields. Voice to thy soul, lone- sitting deep within The still recesses of thine ecstasy. My love and my desire, that fain would fly With this far-silvering moon and fold thee in. But not for us the touch, the clasp, the kiss. And for our restlessness no rest. In vain These aching lips, these hungering hearts that Toward the denied fruition of our bliss, [strain Had Love not learned of longing to devise Out of desire and dream our paradise. Charles G. D. Roberts. 103 ON A PRESSED FLOWER ^S Keats* old honeyed volume of romance I oped to-day to drink its jLatmos air, [l found all pressed a white flower lying where The shepherd lad watched Pan's herd slow advance. Ah, then what tender memories did chance To bring again the day, when from your hair, This frail carnation, delicate and fair. You gave me, that I now might taste its trance. And so to-day it brings a mellow dream Of that sweet time when but to hear you speak Filled all my soul. What waves of passion seem About this flower to linger and to break. Lit by the glamour of the moon's pale beam The while my heart weeps for this dear flower's sake. William Stanley Braithwaite. 104 REMEMBRANCES HERE is such power even in smallest things To bring the dear past back; a flower's tint, A snatch of some old song, the fleeting glint Of sunbeams on the wave, — each vivid brings The lost days up, as from ^the idle strings Of wind-harp sad a breeze evokes the hint Of antique tunes. A glove which keeps imprint Of a loved hand the heart with torture wrings By memory of a clasp meant more than speech ; A face seen in the crowd with curve of cheek Or sweep of eyelash our woe's core can reach. How strong is love to yearn and yet how weak To strive with fate, the lesson all things teach, As of the past in myriad ways they speak. Arlo Bates. 105 A NIGHT PRAYER GOD, O perfect Love, I pray thee care For him because it is for- bidden me. Grant that his sleep may soft and hallowed be, Because these prayer- clasped hands may never dare To smooth nor bless his bed. Close with thy rare. Caressing peace his weary-star eyes. Free From other ward some angel-guard, that he May keep the dark watch that I may not share. Greet with thy new day's joy his waking soul, Inspire him lest in weariness he slip Upon the day's descent. Grant me the bliss Of praying for him ; — Lord, take thou a coal From out thy altar fire, and on the lip That I may never touch lay thou its kiss. Elizabeth Hale Oilman. io6 THE AWAKENING AST night your name stole softly, ere I knew, Into the tangled meshes of my prayer : As when a patient hand with tenderest care On silken skein is laid, it deftly drew The threads to place, till all within me grew Strangely at rest. Ah, then I was aware How through the chaos thrilled me wondrous fair The word that darkness and disorder slew ! When first I saw your face I knew you mine. Yet was I wilful, while my life became Confused, disordered, nor could I divine The cause — till, lo, this whisper of your name ! Straightway confusion vanished and I saw Order and peace were love's eternal law. Lucy Leffiingwell Cable. I^ ^1 m Wml m Im m 107 THE AFTER-GLOW T is a solemn evening, golden clear — The Alpine summits flame with rose-lit snow, And headlands purpling on wide seas below, And clouds and woods and arid rocks appear Dissolving in the sun's own atmosphere And bright circumference of light, whose slow Transfiguration — glow and after-glow — Turns twilight earth to a more luminous sphere. heart, I ask, seeing that the orb of day Has sunk below, yet left to sky and sea His glory's spiritual after-shine : 1 ask if Love, whose sun hath set for thee, May not touch grief with his memorial ray. And lend to loss itself a joy divine? Mathilde Blind. io8 LOVE LIVES IN SACRIFICE AY; Love so lives in sacrifice, he could Be taught perchance to loose his highest hope — His hold on life — and dying, hail the good, The end to which the coming ages grope. But Love, sad Love, that should his all forego. What vision of the future were to show His yearning eyes ? If, looking through the years, He saw the generations halting past. More sad than ours, ay, if with rarer tears, And struggling onward, with no eye upcast — Still onward, onward, upward nevermore — Then Love, lost Love, would turn him from the To wait impatient till the end were won, [shore And the weird world were wrecked upon the sun! Emily Pfeiff er. log I LOSS lO love is given in vain — O Lord, receive This love of mine, and turn it into power. Bring strength from pain, fruit from the dying flower, And when I suffer most, let me believe No pang is useless — Souls that would achieve Must pass through joy and sorrow, sun and shower. Keeping strict watch, in soft enchanted bower, Hiding a secret hope when most they grieve. Love frustrate has its fair and perfect end : Let all my nature gather force, and move Like a strong river toward the eternal sea ; Feeling the goal through devious turn and bend By faith in fulness that I cannot prove. By hope in joy and beauty yet to be. Mary E. Richmond. no THE FULL HOPE |ORD of my life, before whose wilt I yield, Lo, Iwithdraiv the barriers of my pride; Let my heart flo'O) a Endless evening tide Till all the marshland of my past '5 concealed^ Let stillness in my ecstasy be sealed Deep as the swelling sea is deep and wide* Lord of my life, where all my dreams abide, Take me into thy dwelling who am healed* Ah Love, we shall dwell here forevermore. In this great dwelling of our Hope fulfilled; Ever the past behind us and before The golden future* What the gods have willed Of good or bad to enter at the door This is our dwelling till our hearts are stilled* William Stanley Braithwaite. Ill This edition of LATTER DAY LOVE SONNETS selected and arranged by Laurens Maynard consists of seven hundred and twenty-five copies (of which six hundred and seventy-five copies are for sale), printed for Small, Maynard & Company at The University Press in Cambridge, U.S.A., with dec- orations, borders, and initial letters designed by Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue. Auu 19 mf