♦ °o '♦ AT "^ *;' ,v >- • -^0^ .-^^^ .1 V ; A": \/ •^■^ %.** -a^--: \/ ' %.^^ ^ .• %.^^ ^f \'^y^sy^% -.^p^/ /\ ^:f^Ws ^^'\ I A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR BY CLARENCE THOMAS URMY AUTHOR OF A ROSARY OF RHYME A WREATH OF CALIFORNIA LAUREL A VINTAGE OF VERSE UNDER THE TO YON TREE (in preparation) My lute on lifted hands I hold And pray this prayer: Tune Thou the strings^ ■ let them unfold Thy mercy, love and care. And let it now and ever be An instrument that pleases Thee. SAN FKANCISCO A. M. ROBERTSON 1912 7^ 3^4-1 The verses in this volume originally appeared in Appleton's, The Atlantic Monthly, The Bookman, The Century, The Cosmopolitan, East and West, Everybody's, Harper's Bazar, The Independent, Lippincott's, The Munsey, The Outlook, Peter- son's, Putnam's, The Reader, The Smart Set Sunset, The Times Magazine, Vogue, and The Youth's Companion. Copyright, 1912 by A. M. Robertson San Francisco Printed by Taylor, Nash & Taylor San Francisco [iii] From them to you, how great the span. When measured by the life of man ; From you to them, how short the space. When measured by your verses' grace ! Dead are the Lovers, dead each Dame — Deathless their Songs, enrolled by Fame ! Of Beauty and of Love they sang. With praise of Love their verses rang. With praise of Beauty rang their verse. While Lovers' fealty they rehearse. And you, in newer word and phrase. The same sweet themes of olden days. The worth of Beauty, truth of Love, Love's faith, all other faith above. In newer phrase and word you sing, — The self-same praises of the Spring — Spring of the World, Spring of the Heart, That Spring whence springs all truth in Art! So may some song of yours enshrine A lambent spark of fire divine. To kindle newly by your art The flame of Spring-tide in the heart — You'll not have lived and loved in vain If one dead heart shall glow again ! R. H. P. Sonoma, California, Christmas Day, Nineteen Hundred and Ten. [v] Contents Page Dedication iii Come, Troubadours ... 1 Blondel 2 Wood-Wind 4 The Groves of Pan ... 6 Dreams in the Redwoods 8 Loiterland 9 A Jewel Song 12 **One Whose Name Was Writ in Water" ... 13 A California Song ... 14 A California River . . .15 To Bliss Carman ... 16 The Trail Beautiful . . 17 The Sleepless 20 Forest Couplets . . . .21 Poetry 22 Revealment 23 By the Guadaloupe . . 24 "I Lay My Lute Beside Thy Door" 25 Sword, Go Through the Land 26 The Poet Touch .... 27 To Ina Coolbrith ... 28 Friend of Mine .... 30 A Roundelay 31 Dream-Song 32 The Unattained .... 33 At a Wayside Shrine . . 34 The Cameo-Cutter . . .35 Coronach 36 A Woodland Revel ... 38 At Santa Cruz .... 40 Beside the Western Sea . 41 California Skies .... 43 In a Cathedral .... 44 A Casement Canzonet . . 45 Mountain Haze .... 46 Nectar 47 Page TheWay to the Violet Hills 48 ■ " 49 50 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 The Vanished Voice An Elfin Skein , The Golden Legacy To a New Acquaintance The Necklace . . . A Lyric for a Lute . A Little Love-Song . When You Come Home Angel Lore . . . Lay A Pilgrim Song . . In a Mission Garden In a Pergola . . . A Legend of the Madonna 63 A Song of Far and Near . 65 How Steep the Stairs . . 66 Dream Chimes .... 67 Rosemary 68 The Praise of Hope . . 69 The Evening Star ... 70 The Willow Stream . . 71 A Rainbow Fancy ... 73 Water, Leaf and Wing . . 74 A Rhyme Rose .... 75 Via Crucis 76 A Day of Days .... 77 The Golden Age . . . .78 Afternoon Callers ... 79 A California Psalm ... 80 The Things That Count . 81 "' ' ~ 82 83 84 86 87 88 89 90 91 The Language of Love The Singing Wind An Old Guitar The Unseen Ships At Sunset .... A Wedding Song Chansonnette . . The Silhouette City A Signal at Sea . A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [1] Come, Troubadours Troubadours ! Come sing again To the heart of hearts of men ; Come with arms heaped full of roses. Wreath and garland bright with posies. For we need your fragrant lays In these dull and sordid days. Troubadours ! Again to Earth Bring love-music and love-mirth ; Sing of glance and smile and kisses. Lover's vow and kindred blisses. For your arts and wiles we need In this age of grind and greed. Troubadours ! Fair fellowship. Sweet of lute and sweet of lip. Strike the love-cord that entices With its many rare devices. For we need love-tunes and rhymes In these heartless, faithless times. Troubadours ! Come sing once more Chaunt and lai of tender lore ; Come in true, old minstrel fashion. Heart and tongue aflame with passion. Bringing from those days afar Once again "Le Gai Savoir^^l A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [2] Blondel Within my heart I long have kept A little chamber cleanly swept. Embroidered with a. fleur-de-lis. And lintel boughs of redwood tree ; A bed, a book, a crucifix. Two little copper candlesticks With tapers ready for the match The moment I his footfall catch. That when in thought he comes to me He straightway at his ease may be. This guest I love so to allure — Blondel, King Richard's troubadour ! He often comes, but sings no more (He says his singing days are o'er!); Still, sweet of tongue and filled with tales Of knights and ladies, bowers and vales. He caps our frugal meal with talk Of langue d'dil and langue d'oc. Of Picardy and Aquitaine, Blanche of Castile and Charlemagne, Of menestrel, trouvere, conteur. Mime, histrion, and old harpeur — Small wonder that I love him well. King Richard's troubadour, Blondel ! Still, as he comes at candle-light And goes before the east is bright, I have no heart to beg him keep A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [3] Late hour with me when wooed hy sleep ; But one request I ever make. And ever no for answer take : He will not make the secret mine, What song he sang at Diirrenstein ! Sleep, troubadour ! Enough that thou With that sweet lay didst keep thy vow And link thy name by deathless art With Richard of the Lion Heart ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [4] Wood -Wind Hither, Wood-wind, lend thy lips Where this mountain hrooklet slips Under alder, huckeye, hay. Oaken hough and willow spray ; Lend thy lips, and let the tone Be like fairy hugles hlown. Fairy hugles hlown afar In the Land of Evening Star. Hither, Wood-wind, touch thy tongue To the flutes with garlands hung; There are notes that only thou Canst awake from branch and hough, Notes that Pan with piping sweet Charms Terpsichore's light feet, Or the softer notes that dwell Deep in Orpheus' golden shell. Hither, Wood-wind, horns are here. Elfin horns to woodmen dear. Hanging at the ivory door Of each spreading sycamore ; Breathe upon these alder houghs And thy gentle strains shall rouse Dreams that in hushed valleys dwell. Crowned with wreaths of asphodel. Hither, Wood-wind, thou dost know Haunt of pebbly piccolo. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [5] And the cave of clarionet In the reeds with ripples wet ; There are diapason stops In the sky-tipped redwood tops ; Blow thereon and we shall hear Music of a primal year ! Welcome, Wood-wind, at our call ; Or was it the waterfall Or a falling leaf's low cry That didst hid thee wander hy ? Breathe and blow and drive away All the care and fret of day. While the pine trees' soft bassoon Murmurs magic to the moon. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [6] The Groves of Pan Take my hand, and we will stroll To the foot of yonder knoll, Down a valley, through a brake, By a lily-mantled lake. O'er a meadow Eden-fair, ( Pegasus is pastured there ! ) Up a little wooded slope. Then a wicket gate we ope ; In this dew your finger dip, And unseen we then shall slip Down this willow-bowered wynd. Through this coppice, fir-confined. Now step softly as you can : We have reached the Groves of Pan ! Oh, the beauty of the breeze In the leafy laurel trees. And the rhymes when down the glade Branch and bough are zephyr-swayed ! List the rhythmic, quiet call Of the woodland waterfall. And the strophe of the streams — Melody adrift in dreams ! From a covert, cool and dim. Floats an elfin morning hymn. Hark ! Three nymphs in dalliance met Trill a tuneful triolet. Hush ! A dryad and a faun Sing a duo to the dawn. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [7] Now comes Pan, his syrinx set To a joyous canzonet. All his court, a jocund train. Joining in the glad refrain ; Every insect, bee and bird In the perfect cadence heard ; Every tree in every grove Bowing at the name of Jove ! To some sylvan temple bound Moves the train with choral sound ; On from grove to grove they wend Till with dusk and dark they blend. Let us seek the haunts of man ; Farewell to the Groves of Pan ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [8] Dreams in the Redwoods ^Then early stars down twilight pathways rove. And deep-set, leaf-set canyon streamlets croon Their canticles unto the crescent moon. What rare enchantment fills this redwood grove ! Gone is the net of care that Daylight wove. The toil and weariness of afternoon. And up from crimson sea and rose lagoon Night drives her dreams, a misty, drowsy drove. These redwood dreams ! The silver Mission bells. The footprints of the Padres, fading fast. The sails adventurous that decked the shore ; Then on and on into the purple past Where redwood after redwood softly tells Mysterious tales of immemorial lore ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [9] Loiterland Take the road that sharply turns To the right at Point of Ferns, Then straight on until you see On a hough of laurel tree : Linger Lane, foot-path, no freight ; Traveler, please close the gate. Ope the portal; lo, you stand On the edge of Loiterland ! Oh, the song and shade and scent In one benediction blent. Here where earth and air are rife With alluring Eden-life ! Vision vouchsafed but to those Walking where the sunset rose Strews its leaves of gold and red O'er a land with dreams bespread ! Let us first all grief assuage At the Halcyon Hermitage, Drinking luscious hydromel From a sylvan, moss-grown well ; Nothing now our course deters — Bird and wind for couriers. Milestones writ in fairy script. Vocal guide-posts, elfin-lipped ! Shall we wander down this road To the Vale of Calm Abode, A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [10] Or to Fancy's Cottage, caught In a net of roses wrought ? Where those purple hillocks rise Honeysuckle Hollow lies, Close where Sleep her scepter wields Over Day-dream Poppy-fields. If you cross this vineyard crest You will come to Roamer's Rest ; Then 't is but a step or so To the Drowsy Bungalow; Clover Croft is just behind Oaken boughs with moss entwined, And the inn called Heart's-ease stands Where the grove and brook clasp hands. Listen ! Was that music ? Hark ! Fountains talking in the dark, In the dark of spruce and fir. Dreams for their interpreter; Rills along the roadside run Seemingly of silver spun. Spun of silver in whose net Emerald and sard are set. Here a canyon, lily-lit. Stately redwoods arching it, Woos with stream-sung serenade On to dimmer, deeper shade ; Winds that down this valley veer Whisper, " Lotusland is near ! " A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [11] Is that ocean, sea or lake Gleaming through yon bank of brake ? Lo, on Dreamland's coast we stand ! White-sailed ports on every hand ; See, a shallop trimmed with flowers Waits that we may call it ours ! Let us quickly step aboard. Sailing softly twilightward. Seeking o'er celestial seas Gardens of Hesperides ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [12] A Jewel Song Three gems upon a golden chain I ever keep, Clasped 'round my neck in joy, in pain, Awake, asleep. The red of flame, the green of Spring, The white of tears Glow, gleam and sparkle on my string Of golden years. The ruby of the Present, bright. Of value vast. The Future's emerald, and the white Pearl of the Past. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [13] One Whose Name Was Writ in Water" {February 23, 1821) "Writ in water" — yea, in all the springs That bubble into birth with murmurings Strange, untranslatable, of darks and deeps Where Lamia her serpent-vigil keeps. "Writ in water" — yea, in all the brooks Along whose banks, with bosom-clasped books. Rapt poets, young and old, with faces wan Seek further word of lost Hyperion. " Writ in water " — yea, in lake and sea Where e'er the mirrored moon may chance to be. Fond dreamers find their sweetest solace there Along the path Endymion made fair. " Writ in water " — yea, in ocean's breast. In every azure billow's foam-tipped crest — In every bubble, ripple, fountain, wave. Thy name in water written, cheats the grave. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [14] A California Song I come to you with a gift in my hand, A flower that grew in a golden land, A land on whose head is a poppy crown And the scent of the blossoms is wafted down To the amber bay and the topaz sea And the sun-god's grave by the cocoa tree. I come to you with a flower whose face Is the zenith of beauty, the acme of grace ; There are dreams in its eyes, and the song on its lips Is the lullaby song of the shadow that slips O'er the tall purple mountain that watches like Fate The silver sails threading the fair Golden Gate. I come to you with a flower whose breath Brings freedom from fear of disaster and death. For though El Dorado be blackened, and rock Through the demon of fire and the earthquake shock. There is peace in the hearts of her children who know The scent of the fields where the poppies grow. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [15] A California River This is the Yuba River, filled with tales Of camp and cabin. Argonauts and gold. With dear romance of fir-set mountain trails. What wondrous legends might thy lips unfold. If but our eager ears were rightly tuned To nature's rhapsody by thee outrolled ! And yet thy liquid lyric, rhymed and runed Among the rocks that guard thy yellow bed. By echo in my heart is softly crooned. And seaward on thy bosom, fancy led. Through canyons calm and cool I downward float To vales with poppy gardens richly spread. Still on and on in slumber's dream-set boat. O'er seas of bygone years, and ever in mine ears The mellow music of thy golden throat ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [16] To Bliss Carman From Vagabondian ports a barque Sailed up the Sunset Sea, And just as daylight dawned from dark A voice called out to me : " Ho, Brother ! May I moor my ark Here at your Redwood Tree ? " Across the poppy fields I flung My welcome down the shore ; Oh, how I longed for tuneful tongue, For lay of Lydian lore. For harp with strings of silver strung My greeting to outpour — " Thrice welcome, Vagabondian Bard, Thou Modern Mariner, From haunts with Golden Rowan starred, Pan Pipes and Dulcimer, With Gamelbar the battle-scarred — Hail, Heart's Interpreter ! " With what delight I backward look Upon that golden day When for brief moments one forsook The Low Tide on Grand Pre, And bode with me and Bough and Book In rose-wreathed San Jose. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [17] The Trail Beautiful Here starts the trail — This redwood tree — Walk down the cool Dim depths with me ; No need of guide, We much prefer A butterfly For courier ! And if the path Should prove obscure We have the brook For troubadour To lead and lure With singing sweet Back to the trail Our straying feet. Is that the wind Among the trees. Or sounding of Pacific seas? Again, again, Ah, 't is the sea. And, troubadour. It calls to thee ! Down, down we stray. The woods grow dense. The air is rife With frankincense. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [18] The odor sweet Of fir and pine. For weary hearts The anodyne ! Here 's eglantine. And through the grass I think I saw A pixy pass — A shadow? No, I felt his wings — Hark! Is it he Who softly sings Far up the hill Where purple haze Hints at the home Of sprites and fays ? An upland slope. Then down again Where lilies light A dusky glen ; Now straightway out Into the sun. Then into shade Where, one by one. Day-dreams entwine A filmy veil That dims the wood And blurs the trail — ii Far up the hill A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [19] Is that a star That beckons us Afar, afar ? Come ! Back along The trail where now The moon peers through Still branch and bough; Up, up we climb Unto the crest That cradles home And sleep and rest ; Draw, troubadour. Dreams from the sky. Trail Beautiful Good night, good-bye ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [20] The Sleepless The woods at night for sleep were fain ; The Wind crept down each leafy lane And sang a lullaby ; First trunk and branch, then bough and spray. Then lastly leaf, in slumber lay — The Wind paused with a sigh. For Oh, my heart was fain for sleep ! I felt the Wood-wind closer creep And o'er my pillow stray ; Fear, Pain and Care with peace were filled, But Memory would not be stilled. And sobbed till dawn of day. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [21] Forest Couplets Beneath a redwood let me lie And all its harmonies untie : Melodic sequences of spray And bough and trunk in rich array ; Chromatic hue and tint and shade Of beryl, emerald and jade ; Cadenzas, day-dreams that enfold The padres, argonauts and gold ; Soft passing notes, the tones that tell Of poppy-field and mission bell ; With sea-wind cadences that blow In dominant arpeggio. Resolving into chords full blent Of solace, peace, and calm content. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [22] Poetry Call not by name of Poetry tlie verse That neither soothes men's worldly pains and cares Nor lifts the thoughts of men by golden stairs To starry thrones ; a name so high, so terse, Should never join a blessing and a curse. Nor give to idle songs and vulgar airs The christening we give to praise and prayers That laureled poets on their harps rehearse. But call by name of Poetry the lines That show us stars where scarcely stars belong, That grow us golden fruit on barren vines. That fill deep silences with deeper song. And grant us glimpses of the worlds that lie Beyond the reach of human ear and eye. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [23] Revealment Let me tell liow rhythm with its rime should flow As the laugh of leaves when soft zephyrs hlow. As the waves with gracile hand Write their names upon the sand. Let me tell how music with its verse should mate ; As the dark with dawn, rapt, inviolate. As the soil and sun disclose Sweet communion in a rose. Let me tell how fancy from the heart should leap As the cloud full-fraught rises from the deep. As the Spring at God's behest Wakes, and, lo, the world is blest ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [24] By the Guadaloupe From happy haunts in hills afar. The sparkling water dances. Attuned to song and gay guitar Of olden-day romances. A cahallero^s serenade, A sehorita's laughter, With gleams of chillies fair arrayed On smoky wall and rafter. Beneath this turquoise-tinted sky. Here in this green pavilion, At peace with all the world I lie Enwrapped in dreams Castilian ; Blue lie the hills of Santa Cruz ; Low in the sky hangs Hesper; And Santa Clara's hells diffuse The holy balm of vesper. It falls on dreamful eye and ear. Bids care depart and bliss come ; A ghostly padre passes near — How sweet his "Pax vobiscum ! " A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [25] I Lay My Lute Beside Thy Door Wh^t was it Colin gave to thee ? — A blossom from the hawthorn tree ? A flower of song is all I own, A little dreamland rose, half blown. Oh, deck thy tresses, I implore — I lay my lute beside thy door ! What was it Damon sent to thee ? — A gleaming pearl from Eastern sea ? A gem of song is all I own, A tiny, glistening, tear-stained stone. Oh, wear it — 'twill my peace restore I lay my lute beside thy door ! What was it Lubin brought to thee? — A falcon from the dewy lea ? A bird of song is all I own. And to thy heart it now has flown. Oh, cage it, let it roam no more — I lay my lute beside thy door ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [26] Sword, Go Through the Land ! Sword, go through the land and slay Guile and Hate, Revenge, Dismay ! Now where is such a sword, you say ? Sword, go through the land, but spare Love and Hope and Peace and Prayer ! Now who, you ask, that sword shall bear ? Sword, go through the land, and youth. Prime and age shall cry : " Forsooth, How mighty is the sword called Truth ! " A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [27] The Poet-Touch "WTiat is the poet-touch ? Ah me, that every bard might gain it. And having once attained the prize, forever might retain it : — To touch no thing that 's vile, unless to teach the world to scorn it. To touch no thing that 's beautiful, save only to adorn it ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [28] To Ina Coolbrith Poppy Fields, what shall I say ? " Tell her of our love, alway ; Tell her that our huds unfold More of grace and more of gold Since her singing chanced to stray O'er this land with hlossoms gay." Redwood Groves, what shall I say ? " Tell her of our love, alway ; Of a primal love sincere Whereby we her name revere. Teaching it to sprite and fay And to tender, new-born spray." Western Winds, what shall I say ? " Tell her of our love, alway ; Tell her how we bear afar Songs of hers from star to star, "Where they sweep and swing and sway Till the angels homage pay." Sun-down Seas, what shall I say ? " Tell her of our love, alway ; Tell how Wave and Shore desire Speech like that of her fond lyre. How they fain would learn one lay That her golden strings convey." A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [29] Sunset Skies, what shall I say? "Tell her of our love, alway ; Tell her of the peace that lies Far heyond all earthly skies, Peace that shall be hers for aye When shall dawn that Perfect Day." A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [30] Friend of Mine You have bound yourself so closely round my heart. Friend of mine. That it seems as if our paths could never part, Friend of mine ! Oft the vine forsakes the wall. Stars have e'en been known to fall — You are not like star or vine. Friend of mine ! You have played upon the lute-strings of my soul. Friend of mine, Singing blissful songs that through my being roll. Friend of mine ; There are silences somewhere, Songless lips of mute despair — Sing for aye your song divine. Friend of mine ! You have decked my life with roses red as flame. Friend of mine. And of Paradise made more than just a name. Friend of mine ; Flowers fade, their perfume dies. Visions pass from watching eyes. But in heaven our roses shine. Friend of mine ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [31] A Roundelay Come, stroll down this lane with me, Weave a bright chain with me. And sing a sweet strain with me. Over and over ; Love's harp is in tune with us. Now it is June with us, And joy is triune with us, Joy, the young rover ! No telling what Time may bring. What a new rhyme may bring ! For Fate from far clime may bring Sad call to sever ; The harp may be strung again. Songs may be sung again. But we shallbe young again — Never, ah, never ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [32] Dream -Song Magic perfume of a rose That in Allah's garden grows. Pale, pale light by Cynthia set Deep in Twilight's coronet. Angel music, reed and string. Through the starlight quavering. Music, perfume, light enshrine Thee in every dream of mine. May this little dream-song be Music, perfume, light to thee ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [33] The Unattained Like some rapt Poet, hand-clasped with Desire, Pacing through dew and dark. If haply he may learn upon his lyre The lyric of a lark — So I, hand-clasped with Dreams, oft-times afar Through spheres celestial stroll. If haply I may reach the certain star. Where dwells Her sainted soul. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [34] At a Wayside Shrine Fair shrine of Mary ! What sweet lure, I wonder. Has led me to this leaf-embroidered glen. As with unfettered feet I sought to sunder My soul and body from the haunts of men ? I say the sweet "Hail Mary"; never dearer Have Gabriel's tender words seemed to my soul. For something in this spot has made them clearer And marks a golden milestone toward life's goal. The checkered shine and shade through branches drifting. The new-born birds that strive so hard to sing. The ''Pax Vobiscum " of the breeze uplifting The tendrils of the baby vines of Spring — The fair enfoldment of the alders bending (It was upon a tree His body hung) — And with it all ''Magnificat " is blending By waters of the brooklet sweetly sung. The sun behind the hill is slowly creeping. Far up the canyon sounds the Angelus — Ring on, sweet bell, her memory sacred keeping — Oh, sweet and blessed Mother, pray for us ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [35] The Cameo -Cutter Worker in that most venerable art So much esteemed in medieval days. And now brought forth for fresher, brighter bays. What talismanic dreams must crowd thy heart. Of brilliant booths in Greek and Roman mart. Where careful, cunning workmen deftly raise On jasper, onyx, bloodstone, chrysoprase. The life and scenes of which they form a part. O patient lapidary ! in the stone What wondrous arabesques of shine and shade Abide their time thy tracing to adorn — Imprisoned beams, perchance, that one day shone In primal Eden-bower, glen or glade. Waiting thy touch — their resurrection morn ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [36] Coronach ''Earth to earth" — then let it be Something that was dear to me. Earth whose fond arms guarded well Some great giant sentinel That aloft his proud head rears. Warder of two hemispheres ! Earth from some leaf-littered aisle Dimly stretching mile on mile Through dark temples where naught stirs Save the shy wind-worshipers. Nymph and dryad, faun and fay. And a poet, far astray ! "Ashes to ashes" — let it be Something that was dear to me. Branch and bough and leaf that made By the road a pleasant shade ; Manzanita, fir or pine. Laurel, with its leaf divine. Build the fire of spruce or oak. Or of any kindred folk, Only let the blaze not be Kindled with the redwood tree ; Sacred be those columns vast Of the immemorial past ! "Dust to dust"— but let it be Something that was dear to me. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [37] Dust the padres' feet have pressed Following their high behest. Where they reared the sainted shrine. Planted olive grove and vine ; Dust within whose lifted cloud Fantasies and visions crowd — Dreams Castilian, dreams of gold. Tales of Argonauts, untold Save at night by starlit breeze To the groves of redwood trees ! Earth from redwood-darkened trail. Dust from El Camino Real — Ashes of a mountain tree. On me let tliem sprinkled be. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [38] A Woodland Revel Hither, Strephon, Chloe, Phyllis, Corydon and Amaryllis ; Hasten, Lubin and Lysander, Daphne, Colin, and Sylvander ; Come, Jocunda, Delia, Doris, Let us dance the merry morris ; Play up, pipers ! Bee and cricket. All ye minstrels of the thicket. Tune up, strike up to the measure Of the golden wand of pleasure ; Dance, ye rustics, swain and yokel. Making all the greenwood vocal. Filling joy's glad cup completely. As we sing and foot it featly. Now what dear delight to wander While our hearts grow fond and fonder. Breathing incense, balm, and spices. Gazing on the fair devices Arabesqued by shade and shimmer Through the tree-tops, dim and dimmer ; Up the hill and down the hollow. Through the paths deer love to follow. With a bubbling spring for ending Under redwood boughs low-bending ; Filling fardels with pomander Of the wildwood oleander ; Laurel-wreaths our boughs entwining. Love-light in our eyes soft shining ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [39] Shepherds, rest ! Ye shepherdesses. Here are crispy water-cresses. Ripe-red berries sunlight-basking. To be had without the asking ; And in high and dim seclusion Hazel-nuts in rare profusion ; Nectar from a fairy fountain Hidden in a misty mountain. Spread in wondrous rich libation For our ease and delectation. See, the shadows deeply darting Bid us sing a song of parting; Hey for home ! Lo, for our guiding Hesper in the dusk abiding ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [40] At Santa Cruz The white cliffs wooed me and I slept Within their fond embraces. Foam-flowers wooed the moon and crept From out their crystal vases, Crept not so near * * * crept not so high '^ '^ * We were alone — the cliffs and I. The mountain breeze from forest lanes Brought echoes, piped and choral. From dryads hid in dark domains Of redwood, fir and laurel — 'T was sweet to hear the drowsy bay Croon to a Pan-piped virelay ! Calypso called me to her cave Adown the shining shingle. And far beyond the utmost wave Where moon and ocean mingle I heard the Lorelei, and felt Earth, sea and sky in music melt. A boat came sailing down the dark By some sweet necromancy. Perchance it was a fairy barque Bound for the Isles of Fancy ; I stepped aboard * * * go ask some star Just where those Ports of Dreamland are ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [41] Beside the Western Sea From some faint star I passed to earth. And here found hreath and mortal birth In land that lies along a reach Of rock-bound coast and palm-bound beach ; Pass but its golden threshold — lo ! A spell from out the long ago. Conceived by some strange sorcerer Who captive binds each voyager ; A landscape bright and Eden-fair, A mighty magic in the air, With names that sweetly slide and slip Across the soft Castilian lip. And bid the heart-strings gently stir Like sound of lute and dulcimer — This was my fortune, born to be A brother to the Western Sea. The days unfold — I joy to list The songs of bard and balladist. Whose chanting woos me with the wine That purples peaceful Palestine, Or weaves in graceful silhouette Tall tapering tower and minaret; Or tales of river, lake and sea Set sapphire-like by hill and lea. Bestrewn with garden hue and scent From far-famed bowers of Orient, And echoed notes from dewy dales A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [42] Where moons are wooed by nightingales — But no, their perfect portraiture Enchants, but has no power to lure My faithful heart, content to be A dweller by the Western Sea. This my reward — I breathe the air Blest by Franciscan praise and prayer. Made holier still by silver swell From many a dulcet Mission bell ; I have my northern snow-capped peaks. From whose grand heights fair Nature speaks To ocean, valley, plain, and calls Afar to wondrous waterfalls ; I have my skies of sunset gold. Dream-fields where poppy leaves unfold. And hammock-swung 'twixt pine and palm Life runneth as a song-set psalm ; Time drifting goes — each year anew Still finds me constant, loyal, true. And more and more content to be A dreamer by the Western Sea. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [43] California Skies California skies ! Balm for the eyes ! Where orange groves or redwoods rise ; By Shasta's snow, Diego's sand Or old Diablo's dream-set land ; By San Francisco Bay so blue. Or down some cypress avenue Near Monterey; by lake Sierra-rimmed, Or yet afar in valleys vineyard-trimmed ; On plain where Ceres waves her wand. Or where Pomona fond And all her train in foothill orchards drowse Under low-bending boughs — Look up ! And from the turquoise cup Drain dreams and rest ! Ah, none so blest As one who weary of life's endless quest In this fair meadow poppy-pillowed lies Day-dreaming 'neath these California skies — Balm for the eyes ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [44] In a Cathedral ^'The Lord is in His holy temple." I Through Sentence, Psalter and the Credo stand. With mind upon the Architect Who planned These columned walls, this fane so fair, so high ; What graceful arabesques, what wondrous dye In windows fashioned by a Master-hand, And where in all the world a nave so grand — This grove of redwoods reaching to the sky ! Hush ! Listen to the Litany of leaves A-murmur to the breeze that, seaward set, Is bearing spice from canyons far above ; And now, with sunset-veiling. Twilight weaves A purple altar-cloth, and lingers yet The Nunc Dimittis of a woodland dove. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [45] A Casement Canzonet I know a little window in frame of ivy set, A tiny cottage casement clasped with emerald amulet ; And looking through this window you see a garden old — Petunia, dahlia, mullein-pink, and rose and marigold. But oh, this little window with ivy curtains hung, I would my sweetest singing might in praise of it be sung ! For, looking through this window, a world of joy is mine — Dreams, visions, hopes and fantasies, all golden, all divine! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [46] Mountain Haze The purple shadow of an angel's wing Is flung across the range, and softly creeps Adown the mountain-side ; the rocky steeps Are blurred with veils of amethyst that fling Their filmy folds 'round barren spots that cling To jagged slopes ; the yawning canyon keeps Fond tryst with Dusk, the windless forest sleeps, With naught save one faint, long line lingering. So, when the angel-shadow falls on me. And from Life's landscape I am blotted out. Ne'er to return to my accustomed place. In Memory's haze let my shortcomings be Concealed, forgotten, but may no one doubt That I the line of beauty sought to trace. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [47] Nectar In a golden bowl I brew Leaf of rose and violet dew. And the essences of things Natal to Pierian springs : Bird-song, brook-song, breeze a-blow. Sweets that in dream-gardens grow ; Spray that leaped the harbor bar Amorous of the twilight star ; Bubbles of delight that float From a seraph's liquid note ; Bloom from Joy's low-bending bough ; Cupid, drop a kiss — and now. Sweetheart, here 's a health to thee. Drink the draught, Sweetheart, with me ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [48] The Way to the Violet Hills The guide-posts are a song, a rose. The star that marks the daylight's close. The crescent moon, or hreeze that blows From valleys where the dream-flower grows. Adown the lane of lover's eyes. On through the gates of glad surprise, Then up the path of low replies — Ah, breathe the fragrance Love distils From out the heart of the Violet Hills ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [49] The Vanished Voice You slipped your Mother-hand from mine And went your way with seraphim. But in my heart your voice divine Grew never dumb, grows never dim ; It leads me up the Path of Dreams That rambles through the Vale of Rhyme, And on and on by silver streams That haunt the Hills of Chant and Chime. Your voice ! I hear it in the call Of woodland wind in redwood boughs. And in the wild-bird notes that fall Across the field where poppies drowse ; And all the sweetness to be found In word or tune my songs among Is in the dear and dulcet sound I fain would echo of your tongue ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [50] An Elfin Skein A ripple through the redwoods ran. An echo from a fairy clan Slipped down the sky; And suddenly the groves began To voice a sibylline reply Caught from the mellow pipes of Pan, Now far, now nigh. A Mystery enrobed in mist. With girdle set with amethyst And sapphires three, Came down the hill-path, twilight-kissed. Crept softly to my trysting tree ; It caught and held me by the wrist. And spoke to me : Tonight the elfin skein is spun ; Ere vigil of the moon is done. The mesh we wind Round redwood circles, every one. And mortals whom therein we bind Shall at the dawning of the sun Great gladness find." I slipped into a redwood ring ; The Mystery took sudden wing. And down the glade I heard the fauns and dryads sing Chant, madrigal and serenade. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [51] And then — it was so strange a thing ! I felt them fade! I woke, sun kissed, and gossamer Spun by some moonlit messenger Bedecked my bed ; I hardly dared to breathe or stir. So deftly was the fiber spread — I, Fortune's happy prisoner. Held by a thread ! I must not break the magic spell Revealing what great joy befell ; But oh, I fain Would wish that all the world might dwell One night within that sweet domain. And wake to love, as I love well. An elfin skein ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [52] The Golden Legacy My mother had no gold to share. Nor land, nor herd, nor merchandise — (My brother has her silken hair. My sister has her azure eyes!) To me she left no comeliness That to the form or face belong. But oh, one gift I do possess. The blessed heritage of song ! Long, long ago in cradle days Her sweet voice would my heart beguile. When I could nothing do but gaze Into the heaven of her smile ! I learned the songs in later years And with her sang them o'er and o'er — O Memory, thy lute and tears Must meet and mingle evermore ! 'T was " Hush, my babe," — as fades the light I hear her softly, sweetly croon, — Then " Afton Water," " Stilly Night," " Sanctissima," and " Silver Moon "; She sang them with such tender art. The art that only mothers know. And tied the tunes around my heart. Else it had broken long ago ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [53] To a New Acquaintance You speak my name and I speak yours, and up The curtain goes. What is the play to be — Like to a draught of nectar, or the cup That Hate drains from the deadly upas tree ? You take my hand and I take yours, the song Begins, our duo in the scheme of life ; What will the cadence be — full, sweet and strong. Or poor and thin, with jar and discord rife ? We look into each other's eyes, a light Is born — would we might read on Time's dim scroll If it be born to flicker for a night. Or brighten into Friendship's aureole ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [54] The Necklace Hand-clasped with dreams, I sought hoth far and near For jewels for the chain; Hand-clasped with dreams, no task was too severe Or could my steps detain. I found one stone within a steadfast star. Another in a rose. One lay beneath a deep-set, moaning bar Where beat a tide of woes. Some passed to me from out an angel's hand, Some from a dreamland tree. And one day, walking in an alien land, A stranger gave me three ! Close-hidden in a tear-dewed violet I found a priceless prize ; My fairest gem reflects the love-light set Within a dear one's eyes. And now, the jewels burnished, golden-bound. For me their charm diffuse In rarest rainbow gleams that glow around The white throat of my Muse ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [55] A Lyric for a Lute Bring the lute at vespertide. Ope the sunset casement wide. Let the breath from locust boughs Blow across our weary brows. While the daytime's vague unrest Still shall lie on Evening's breast. Hushed by tones that softly slip From thy dulcet lute and lip. Bring the lute at vespertide. Let the songs be true and tried. Olden themes and olden lays. Tender tunes of bygone days ; Let them quaver, fall and rise Through the faintly star-set skies. Echoing the bells that chime In the ivy towers of Time. Bring the lute at vespertide, Lo, a Spirit by our side. Crowned with mingled rose and rue. Dim with dusk and damp with dew- Memory! Oh, sing, and so We will restward gently go. Drifting down Sleep's silver streams To the peaceful Port of Dreams. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [56] A Little Love-Song My heart, my heart 's a bonny bird That carols songs the sweetest heard ; My heart, my heart 's a fountain fair That sparkles in the golden air ; My heart 's a rosy-raptured rhyme That echoes to the glad Spring-time. My heart, my heart 's a bud a-bloom That lights with love a greenwood gloom ; My heart, my heart 's a silver star That throws its beams afar, afar ; My heart 's a canticle divine — And all because your heart is mine ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [57] When You Come Home What golden suns will gild the happy skies. What incense from the meadow altars rise. What hymns fill all the groves with glad surprise- When you come home ! How Memory-bells will softly ring and rhyme Amid the dear old ivied towers of Time, As arm in arm we listen to their chime — When you come home ! At Joy's bright festal board shall we sit down. And Mirth and Music, each with myrtle crown. Will drive away the tear, the sigh, the frown — When you come home ! Suspense will quickly change to calm content. Desire with rare fulfilment will be blent. And meeting be one long, sweet sacrament — When you come home ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [58] Angel Lore Great was his joy and great his glad surprise. When to a Seraph, new in Paradise, Sandalphon beckoned, and into his ear Spoke thus, in measure sweet and calm and clear : " From one far world where never yet was heard The speech of man or sea or wind or bird, A voiceless earth, an orb in toneless air — From that sad people there has come a prayer, A prayer so simple and yet so profound — A pleading for the blessed gift of sound ! An answer to that plea I now confer. And thee I choose as its interpreter ! " The Angel wept and low obeisance made, Sandalphon's hand upon his head was laid — " Fly to that star, on pinions fresh and strong, And slay that virgin silence with a song ! " The Angel rose, and, smiling through his tears. Went singing down the pathway of the Spheres. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [59] Lay If I were to send thee roses. They would wither and decay. Beauty not for long reposes From her bower torn away. Or perchance if I should send thee In a golden cage a dove. Mute might he its song, nor lend thee E'en an echo of my love. So instead of bird or flower I would send a simple lay — Let it charm thy brightest hour And bedeck thy darkest day. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [60] A Pilgrim Song Sandal-shoon and scallop-shell, Tell me, where does Fancy dwell ? Up the pathway of the moon. Or adown the dewy dell Wherein Puck and Ariel Dance a merry rigadoon ? Come, you know the spot full well, Sandal-shoon and scallop-shell ! Scallop-shell and sandal-shoon. Is it o'er yon dim lagoon ? Or in haunts of shy gazelle, Where the starlit waters croon. And the lilies sway and swoon To the voice of Philomel? Oh, but bring me thither soon. Scallop-shell and sandal-shoon ! Sandal-shoon and scallop-shell. Listen, 't is the vesper bell ! Ever since the hour of noon I have waited for that knell ; Come, be gracious, and dispel Daylight's doubt, and grant the boon That we couch in Fancy's cell — Sandal-shoon and scallop-shell ! I A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [61] In a Mission Garden ( Santa Barbara ) Stand here, and watch the wondrous birth of Dreams From out the Gate of Silence. Time and Tide, With fingers on their lips, forever bide In large-eyed wonderment, where Thoughts and Themes Of days long flown pass down the slumbrous streams To ports of Poet-land and Song-land. Side By side the many-colored Visions glide. And leave a wake where Fancy glows and gleams. And then the bells ! One stands with low-bowed head While listening to their silver tongues recite The sweet tale of the Angelus — there slips A white dove low across the tiling red — And as we breathe a whispered, fond "Good night," A ""Pax Vobiscum" parts the Padres lips. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [62] In a Pergola Far in the west the glory of the day Fades o'er a redwood forest banked by hills Wherein a fairy sisterhood distils The dew of dreams in valleys twilight-gray. Come, dew of dreams, drift hitherward we pray. Sweet anodyne for grief and kindred ills, A benediction on the dusk that fills This garden where dim ghosts of memory stray. Through paths of poppy, palm and eglantine They move in long processional and slow, With smile and nod and kissing of their hands. Then disappear in one long, sinuous line Where through the purple of the afterglow A white star beckons toward elysian lands. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [63] A Legend of the Madonna Out of holy Bethlehem Into Egypt flying, Herod's hate pursuing them. Dangers multiplying. Hastened through the country wild Joseph, Mary and The Child. When some distance they had passed. Worn and weary growing. Came they to a field at last Where a man was sowing Seed of corn in fertile ground — Mary's heart gave sudden bound. To the husbandman she said : *^ If men bid you aid them. Asking if this way we fled. With your tongue persuade them. Saying : * Yes, they passed at morn On the day I sowed this corn.' " Then, a miracle, behold ! While the man was sleeping. All the field was turned to gold Ready for the reaping. Stalk and blade and ear were there Gleaming in the sunlit air ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [64] Came the men by Herod sent, Spied the man, and roughly Riding through the corn, they went. Calling to him gruffly : "Has an old man passed this way With a wife and child?" "Come, say?" And the man, o'er-whelmed with awe. Viewed his field and wondered . . . "Yes," he said, "those three I saw." " How long since ? " they thundered — " When I sowed this corn " — and then. Homeward rode King Herod's men. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [65] A Song of Far and Near When in hours relentless Far from thee I fare. All the fields are scentless. All the boughs are bare ; Skies are lone, forsaken, Sailless is the sea. Pain and grief awaken Faring far from thee. When in hours enravished Close by thee I bide, Joy seems to have lavished All her charms world-wide ; Perfume, song and sweetness. Color and embrace Blend in one completeness — Gazing on thy face ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [66] How Steep the Stairs 1 How steep the stairs that lead to fame — How steep the stairs ! To pilgrims weary, heart-sick, lame, Who journey toward that distant flame Where glisten glory, power, name. How steep the stairs ! How steep the stairs that lead to love — How steep the stairs ! That slender ladder fashioned of The purity of altar-dove. That leads to highest heaven above — How steep the stairs ! How steep the stairs that lead to God — How steep the stairs ! For seeds that strive to pierce the sod. For children smarting 'neath the rod. For feet with sin and sorrow shod. How steep the stairs ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [67] Dream Chimes Somewhere along the road that I am climbing I know that bells are ringing blithe and sweet ; I hear them in my dreams so gently chiming. And hasten on with glad, expectant feet. I wonder are they set within a steeple. Or are they hung beside a palace gate ? And will they ring for crowds of kindred people. Or just for me alone, and soon, or late ? In day-dreams, too, I hear them faintly, faintly. As if a fairy bevy rang the chimes ; And down into my heart they steal so quaintly. And weave their melodies into my rhymes. Sometimes they play a measure so alluring. Of laurel and wild olive crown I dream ; I wake — the dusty road ! New faith procuring, I follow, as Sir Galahad the gleam ! Perhaps they sound across a valley vernal. Perchance far up a rugged mountainside ; Ofttimes they ring with rapture so supernal It seems as if in heaven they must abide ! Sometime, somewhere, I know that I shall meet them And plainly hear them play the dear, old themes ; And withwhat joy my swelling soul will greetthem — Those bells of hope that chime adown my dreams! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [68] Rosemary The day is fair with golden glow, song stirs the brooklet's lip. And down the leafy avenues gay swallows dart and dip ; A balmy odor scents the air, soft winds low-laden bring The breath of violets — and yet, one cannot help remembering ! The lamps are lit, the blazing fire paints fancies on the floor. Close by the hearth I sit and hold a book of poet- lore; I part the curtains, peaceful stars their benediction bring. Across the sea the moon — and yet, one cannot help remembering ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [69] The Praise of Hope Believe me, truly 't was not I Who sang that Hope did ever seem Like saddest singing in a dream — Believe me, truly 't was not I, Because for me the song of Hope Is bright as harp tones of Apollo ; I hear it up life's laureled slope : " Oh, follow, follow, follow ! " Believe me, truly 't was not I Who sang that Hope did ever seem Like faded flowers in a dream — Believe me, truly 't was not I, Because for me the flower of Hope Blooms on each hill and down each hollow. And lured by fragrance up life's slope I follow, follow, follow 1 A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [70] The Evening Star Whene'er I see the evening star My thoughts fly far away to you — Thank God, there is no han or bar To what a loving thought may do. Though hands and lips must oft forego The dear delights that lure them so ! Whene'er the evening star appears Before my raptured sight, A veil falls from mine eyes and ears, I see and hear aright ; Thank God for memory that brings Close to the heart the dearest things ! The evening star — I cannot tell Wherein its magic lies ; Thank God, it nightly deigns to dwell Within these lonesome skies ; And ever may the fair star be A mizpah-light for you and me ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [71] The Willow Stream A wondrous wealth of flower and fern. Sequestered nooks at every turn. And pools with tiny caves and dens Enfolding timid citizens ; A stream from out whose ports of gloom. Float argosies of lotus hloom. And arched with trees whose branches wide Drop melodies adown the tide — The tuneful branches whereupon Were hung the harps of Babylon ! Today these willow boughs are hung With instruments more deftly strung — The fairy viol, lyre and lute, The elfin horn and fife and flute. And sweeter still the pipes of Pan Soft pressed by lips Eolian — An orchestra that seems to be In league with gay Terpsichore To which the leaves all afternoon Are dancing reel and rigadoon. Beside the willow-bowered stream How soon come dusk and dew and dream ! Through interwoven shine and shade I hear a night bird's serenade ; A note falls on a ripple's breast So gently soothing it to rest ; ACALIFORIVIA TROUBADOUR [72] And lo, the Lady Moon in white Draws back the curtain of the night. And with a kiss awakes a star — How still the stream and willows are ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [73] A Rainbow Fancy A seven-fold psalm of rapture spread along Heaven's vaulted aisle, And all because a Tear had told its sorrow to a Smile. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [74] Water, Leaf and Wing Tell me of a fairer thing Than the water, leaf and wing Unbound in the early spring ! Water from the springs that sleep In the hillsides dark and deep. Singing in its silver flight Down the Valley of Delight. Leaf that lifts an emerald eye To the turquoise-tinted sky. Hearkening that it may hear Flora's footfall drawing near. Wing of butterfly and bird, Air with rainbow colors blurred. Wing of dragonfly and bee O'er the honey-laden lea — Tell me of a fairer thing Than the water, leaf and wing Unbound in the early spring ! !l A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [75] A Rhyme Rose I fain would send thee dew-wet flowers — too far apart we bide. Thou on the strand that greets the dawn, I by the sundown tide ; So, up the ladder of my dreams a Romeo, I climb And to thy open casement bear a little rose of rhyme. Its petals gleam, its inmost heart a scent divine exhales — It bloomed within a bower hung with nests of nightingales ! But oh, to wed it to thy lute, and some sweet vesper- time To tell thee all the rapture of this little rose of rhyme ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [76] Via Crucis The vision of dawn is leisure. But the truth of day is toil. The sun comes up like a great, red rose. The perfume over the wide world blows. And, oh, to walk in the pathways fair With the rose-trimmed beds and scented air. And far at the garden's end a nook With You and a poet's dream-set book ! The sun goes down like a great red fire. And dies in ashes of vain desire. For my pathway lay outside the wall That girdled You and the roses tall. And my footprints show a deeper red And a crown of thorn is on my head ! Yet the vision stays with me all day. Sweet solace along the rough highway. Till the nails of Toil and spear of Want, Grief's bitter cup and the jeer and taunt Are touched by Sleep, and You softly glide Where I, with the dream, am crucified ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [77] A Day of Days Within the calendar of life Of every human heart. There shines a day with beauty rife. That stands alone, apart — Distinct from other times and tides. The sorrowful or gay. With Memory it ever bides, A rose-crowned, perfect day. No matter if fast fades the gold Of other morns to gray. And angel hands may not have rolled The stone of grief away Bright shining through life's fond regret. Through cloud and tearful haze. Love's golden sun has never set Upon that day of days. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [78] The Golden Age The golden age of golden dream — Oh, for the laureled brow When music laded every stream And burdened every bough ! The golden age of golden rhyme — Oh, for the tongue of flames When poesy was in its prime And nightingales had names ! The golden age of golden lyre — Oh, for the subtle string When love was wooed by heart's desire And song first heard of spring ! The golden age ! The golden source Whence dew of thought had birth — Turn, cycles, in your heavenly course And bring it back to earth ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [79] Afternoon Callers The summer leaves were overheard to say : "My ! What a dreary, dull and stupid day !" (Enter Sir Whiff, Prince Zephyr, Baron Breeze,) My I What a merry chatter in the trees ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [80] A California Psalm I lifted up mine eyes unto the hills Where fair Los Gatos like a lovely gem Is set in California's diadem ; The sky was wreathed with sunset daffodils. And honey-dew that twilight hour distils Lay on the poppy fields and wet the hem Of Evening's robe, who softly sang to them A slumber song of Dreamland vales and rills. Unto the hills I lifted up mine eyes As one who seeks some guerdon or reward. And lo ! into my heart of hearts there crept The grateful balm that weary mortals prize — The help that cometh even from the Lord, — And, gazing long, I ceased to gaze, and slept. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [81] The Things That Count Not what we have, but what we use ; Not what we see, but what we choose — These are the things that mar or bless The sum of human happiness. The things near by, not things afar ; Not what we seem, but what we are — These are the things that make or break. That give the heart its joy or ache. Not what seems fair, but what is true ; Not what we dream, but good we do — These are the things that shine like gems. Like stars, in Fortune's diadems. Not as we take, but as we give ; Not as we pray, but as we live — These are the things that make for peace. Both now and after Time shall cease. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [82] The Language of Love A speech defying all the arts and crafts of tongue or pen. And yet the universal speech of angels and of men. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [83] The Singing Wind Today the singing wind blows straight From o'er pacific seas ; It wafts a boat with precious freight. This wonder-laden breeze — A shallop whose white wings enfold Dim dreams of argonauts and gold ! Today the singing wind floats by In blue and gold and green. Turquoise of California sky. The poppy's yellow sheen. The redwood's tinge, hope's hue divine. That decks these natal groves of mine ! Today the singing wind is fraught With scent of inner shrines. The incense of a fair love-thought That round heaven's lattice twines — Oh, singing wind, my soul you stir With perfumed memories of Her ! She, whom to know was raptured bliss. To lose was sorrow sore — Oh, mother mine, I feel thy kiss, I feel thine arms once more ! See, singing wind, how thy blest art Has waked the lute-strings of my heart ! A CALIFORNIA I TROUBADOUR [84] An Old Guitar I picked it up in northern Spain, This "Relic of the rosy reign Of Francis First or Charlemagne." (So read the sign.) In woeful, stringless dishabille It made such fervent, mute appeal That on the spot I closed the deal That made it mine. It does not very kindly take To these six strings of modern make. And yet it is not hard to wake Its voice to song. The voice, perchance, that helped to seal The fate of fair Blanche of Castile When Thibault with designing zeal Sang low and long. This tracery of tortoise shell If it could speak might softly tell How many bosoms rose and fell With questionings; These ivory keys recall the touch Of fingers trembling over much Because of Master Cupid's clutch At other strings! It may be that some swarthy Moor Or gentle, love-sick Troubadour A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [85] Oft used these frets to reassure His lady fair ; Immortal Villon may, perchance. Have strummed the strings to gay romance. Some neat ballade of ancient France, Light, debonnaire. I joy to think that Blondel may Have home it on his weary way When through long night and lonely day By mead and hrine. He sought his long-imprisoned king — How throbbed with mighty joy each string When lo, at last he heard him sing At Diirrenstein ! And now, here in my studio. It breathes of that sweet Long Ago When Beranger, Ronsard, Marot, Clemence Isaure * * * With lai and chaunt beloved so well Wove wreaths of fadeless asphodel. And garlanded with magic spell Their deathless lore. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [86] The Unseen Ships Through seas more vast than those of earth, Blown straight by heavenly wind. They sail with freight of priceless worth. These merchantmen of mind. In alien zones, through sun and cloud. With varied cargoes fraught, What intercourse and traffic crowd The argosies of thought ! Oh, happy they who walk the strand Whereon those billows roll Whose ports by right divine command The commerce of the soul. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [87] At Sunset Over the tired world blows Breath of the sunset rose ; Wind in the redwood trees Swept from the sundown seas ; Gleam on the hilltop high Caught from a jeweled sky; Dusk in the canyon deep Shed from the wing of Sleep ; Prayer in a censer swung. Incense from heart and tongue. Dreams in a purple boat Sailing from ports remote ; " Peace ! " from a seraph fair Floating through twilight air. Over the tired world blows Rest from the sunset rose. A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [88] A Wedding Song Hang the walls with branch and vine. Rifle glen and glade, Roses, do your best to shine. Lilies, lend your aid ; Let the toast be gaily quaffied, Raise the potion high. Drop good wishes in the draught. Drain the chalice dry. Strike the strings and let us hear Mingle lute and lip. Up, ye minstrels, loud and clear Laud sweet fellowship ; Wherefore all this glad array ? Oh, for very joy ! Cupid is our guest today, Bless the precious boy ! k I A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [89] Chansonnette The joys that we have missed — The broken tryst, The friends we never knew. The harp and lute unstrung. The songs unsung — A little toast to you ! The joys that we have missed — The lips unkissed. The dreams that ne'er came true. The home-bound ships that sleep In havens deep — A little toast to you ! The joys that we have missed — Life's unground grist, Hopes unfulfilled — a few ! The days and nights unwreathed. The love unbreathed — A little toast to you ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [90] The Silhouette City {San Francisco) Against a sky of rose and violet The city's outline clearly, sharply shows Against a sky of violet and rose The shapes of turret, tower and minaret ; Twin Peaks, high hills in dream-repose are set. Around whose heads the poppy-zephyr blows. Twin Peaks, high hills are set in dream-repose Where Occident and Orient have met. And now the skies have turned to gold and green. Rare jewels blaze on steeple, spire and dome — Far, far across the deck's low rail I lean And throw a kiss to thee, my natal home ! Dream City! Pilgrim hearts alone can prize Such precious balm for weary, homesick eyes ! A CALIFORNIA TROUBADOUR [91] A Signal at Sea *'And there was no more sea"! O Love, Let this our grief beguile. An olive spray borne by a dove From far-off sacred isle. Now wafted through Fate's iron bars O'er seas that roll between Two ships that sail 'neath alien stars In search of port serene. 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