953 JC-NRLF 303 SOUL AND SENSE By Hannah Parker Kimball GIFT OF Pi?o JT s s 01* Hinds OATEN STOP SERIES IV SOVLttSENSE BY HANNAH PARKER K1MBALL BOSTON COPELAND AND DAY M D CCC XCVI 9 \- * r\ C 1 C O COPYRIGHT BY COPELAND AND DAY 1896 The lines given under the heading, " Earlier Pieces," were originally printed in a small volume entitled "The Cup of Life." For permission to reprint a few of the poems in the first section of "Soul and Sense," thanks are due to Scribner* s Mag- azine, to Harper's Weekly, and to The Chap-Book. CONTENTS Soul and Sense Page i Contrast i Revelation 2 The Smoke 3 The Heart's Dream of God 4 The Seeker 5 The False Quest 6 Man's Triumph 7 What Wonder? 7 How Long? 8 Poppies 8 Rough Copy 9 Two Points of View 9 When All Was Said and Done 10 A Certain Poet 1 2 Day-Dreamers 1 3 A Primitive Worship 14 The Soul 15 The Deeps of Sleep 15 The Refuge of the Ideal 1 6 Unfitness 1 7 The Sower 17 Thralls 18 The Nation 20 The Christ-child Alone 22 CONTENTS Sinners and Righteous Page 23 The Old Inconsistency 26 In Praise of Pain 27 Beauty Found 28 The Vision of the Fates 29 Consummation 30 Awakening 3 1 A New Drinking Song 32 Reality 33 Prayer 3 3 The Whole 36 The Saved 37 Climbing 38 Purity 38 Repose 39 Bethesda 40 Estrangement 40 Asleep 41 Dream-Music 42 Imperfection 44 Love's Thrift 44 Forget-me-nots 45 Love's Miracle 47 Love Is Kind 47 Fair Thoughts of Love 48 From Personal to Universal 48 Light 49 CONTENTS The Spirit That Affirms to the Spirit That Denies Page 49 Testimony 50 The Child and Sorrow 50 Surprisal 5 1 Old and Young 52 An Imperial Relic 53 A Modern Sir Galahad 55 That Day 57 Death the Lover 57 The Fading of the Light 58 The Voice of Death 59 Rumor from Beyond 62 Afield 63 Sun, Cardinal, and Corn Flowers 64 Stillness 65 Crags on the Hudson 65 The Place Is Chill 66 Torpor 67 The Heart of Man 67 Sunshine on the Lawn 68 Autumnal Peace 68 Sunset 69 The Bats' Revel 70 The Rune of the Wind 72 The Swallow 73 Transformation 74 CONTENTS EARLIER PIECES The Outside Sky Page 77 A Common Miracle 78 The Perfect Day 79 Sins of Omission 79 Failure 80 Dejection 81 Life Comes to Some 8 1 Heaven and Hell 82 In Your Mind 82 Alone 83 One Way of Trusting 85 Agnostics 85 The Heart of the Christian Town 86 Retribution 87 Peace 88 An Oracle 89 SOUL AND SENSE AND OTHER VERSES SOUL AND SENSE MYRIADS of motley molecules through space Move round triumphant. By their whirl- pool pace Shall five be shaken ? All in earth's vast span, Our very bodies, veer to other shapes; Mid the mad dance one stubborn power escapes, Looks on, and marvels, 'tis the soul of man. CONTRAST ROUT and defeat on every hand, On every hand defeat and rout; Yet through the rent clouds'" hurrying rack The stars look out. SOUL AND SENSE Decay supreme from west to east, From south to north supreme decay; -Vet Sf.iil the withered fields and hills 1 Grow green with May. ' Sri clod and man unending strife, Unending strife in man and clod; Yet burning in the heart of man The fire of God. REVELATION IN dreams my head is sunk between The daisy and the fern; I gaze into the deeps of Heaven, To me their blue repose is given; And when the clear stars twinkle keen, Their secret spells I learn. I hear Time fiercely pulse about This earth's re-echoing shell; I hear through space the eager rush; And then I feel God's mighty hush O'er-topping Time's loud coil and shout, And know that all is well. THE SMOKE And when I wake a vision clings, And wheresoever I go, Mankind is taller by a crown Of light, that drops from Heaven down, On gently sliding, silent wings, With silvery fire aglow. THE SMOKE DOVE-WINGED against a tender, turquoise sky The white smoke flits; or through the lam- bent air Quivers to fading, violet spirals fair; Or shifts to grey, curled upward heavily. It rises in strong, twisted columns high From grimy funnels, flecked with fitful flare; Or through the planks of creaking bridges bare Sifts a swift, sinuous way to trail and die. The still, vast skies are background for its strife; SOUL AND SENSE "T is like man's yearnings mounting from man's pain, Seeking the tranquil Heavens waveringly: Earth's ceaseless clash and clangor give it life; 'Tis like man's prayers that, born of toil and strain, Trail, and are lost in God's immensity. THE HEART'S DREAM OF GOD THERE came a shape; men said, "'Tis Reason bright." Can Reason be so ruthless, so severe? It slew my pretty flowers with a blight; It crushed my budding leaves as well as sere; And left my garden drear. There came a wind, and " Doubting" was its name. It blew and blew, my rose-leaves tore and cleftj THE SEEKER And whirling round, a giddy, empty game, It heaped much dust about, and more bereft My poor, bare garden left. Rejoice, my heart! What? On the tram- pled sod Bowed down, poor foolish thing, and sobbing low? It seems to think it was its dream of God That made the fountain in the garden flow, And even the roses blow! THE SEEKER I AM a diver, Into the deep of man's nature I dive; Ah, but there live there Monsters that sleep, that wrestle and strive. Wonders of thinking, Marvels of passion, breed there and thrive; Find I, deep sinking, Glorious in fashion, flowers alive. SOUL AND SENSE Patient, at leisure, Onward, still on, through the green whirl, Seek I one treasure, Priceless alone, seek I the pearl. I am a diver Into the sweeping, into the swirl ; Of all that may live there Cognisance keeping; but where is the pearl? Ah, where is the pearl? THE FALSE QUEST IN youth, "Let us arise, take sail,''' we say, " Over blue seas to find out happiness; There is a purple island, far away, Where life beneath the sun is shadow- less." The torn sails flap, the rudder is undone, The bright hulk rots that our young vis- ions bore; That purple island sleeps not 'neath the sun, And still we wander on a shadowy shore. 6 MAN'S TRIUMPH MAN'S TRIUMPH WE call unto the gods; our cry Clamorous ascends the sky. Ever the gods incline them and reply: "Fight on in darkness; struggle to be brave; Battle with evil; wrestle for the right; Fight on in darkness; Heaven's is the light; t Man's triumph is in darkness to be brave." WHAT WONDER? AH, if the soul know all, yet is held blind And dumb by thwarting ligatures of flesh Bound o'er wise eyes and strong lips wis- dom-curled, What wonder it so often fails to find, In blindman's holiday, this life's mad mesh, Its clue to blindly conquer this blind world ? SOUL AND SENSE HOW LONG? O PRODIGAL of blood, and pain, And conflict, (since the human soul Thereby emerges free from stain,) Who never countest stress and dole: How many spans? what strife? what strain? How much of Thine eternity, Ere, pierced with truth again, again, Our souls, unswerving, turn to Thee? POPPIES GLEAN through the field, dread Lord, Thine is the field. Lo, here are blazing poppies, everyone A drop of blood-red joy that I have won; And other flow'rs than these the field shall yield. But His eyes seek the grain. Nay, Lord, refrain. May not the flow'rs suffice Thee? Woe, His eyes ROUGH COPY That seek the grain! How bare each furrow lies! I know not, Lord, the poppies choked the grain. ROUGH COPY AH life, rough copy of the life sublime The soul lives on her hill-top high apart; Blotted and blurred with poor, distorted art! Yet God stoops down to read the scrawl of Time. TWO POINTS OF VIEW I ALL this costly expense For a few white souls forgiven, For a smiling throng of a few elect, White harpers harping in Heaven. SOUL AND SENSE II Lord, Thy glance is wide, And Thy wide arms circle the whole, Shall out of Thy net of loving glide One wandering human soul? WHEN ALL WAS SAID AND DONE THIRST for the personal pang, the sacrifice, Made all his wide, bright leisure seem a maze Of tiny discords, intricate, shrill 5 and he Who could not lose himself in fancies, faced The passion-pure Madonna's rose-leaf cheek, The Sun-god's body's perfect grace in- tense, And all art's wealth of shameless, chosen joys, WHEN ALL WAS SAID Chilled by a secret hunger. His smooth books Lied, telling him that life was wondrous well. Before red sunset-glows, where poplars prim Pricked the pale pain of evening's sallow cheek Into great wrath and fierceness, ear astrain, He heard a wandering cry, and thought the sky Blushed brutally for murder in the streets. So he stood forth, and drank the fiery cup This Judas-life wrings out for those who strive. His heart dashed up its pity and revolt, Crimsoning the very stars 5 his voice grew shrill. II After long years of fever and demur A curious dumbness took him. Wistful- eyed, He did not struggle then; he softly lived, With deprecating nods and faded smiles SOUL AND SENSE As sweet as withered rose-leaves. Yet if one Lifted a violent voice to storm for truth, To goad for good, he spake, and gently said, With yearning eye, and loyal, trembling lip; " Strive, brother, strive, but strive in God's own peace, Strive in great peace, because God made the world." A CERTAIN POET HOW his fearful lips were shaken, By the faltering song he sung! By the thunderous tide of living, How his inmost soul was wrung! How the clamorous voice of Babel Smote him like a naked sword! How his eyelids longed for darkness, Eyes had seen the living Lord! Still before him rose the vision, Robed in light from heel to crown, 12 DAY-DREAMERS Still he saw the Lord of life, And all his quaking soul bowed down. And he sung, with shaken lips, And voice that quavered in his awe, Shrill, amid his hurrying heart-beats, Sung the Presence that he saw. DAY-DREAMERS LIKE those that wait for messages they stand 5 And Time sweeps by. Far, far away they see a golden band . Against the sky. JL a - Far, far away, from some song-haunted "grove, Sweet notes they hear, stir with silvery strains of certain love, But nothing near. Strange flutterings from afar the light breeze brings, Now quick, now slow; SOUL AND SENSE An airy strife of vast and distant wings Their spirits know. Yet never touch comes near them, never light, No strain draws nigh 5 Far, far against the sky the glory bright} And Time sweeps by. A PRIMITIVE WORSHIP 1DUG and dug in desert sands, The wilderness could see My faintness, and the thing my hands, Striving, upturned for me. O gross-lipped idol, trembling vows Have hovered round your lips, And woven a halo round your brows Of somnolent eclipse. Drift, desert sands, drift o'er this head, This cruel head of shame; Hide it from sight; let not the dead Even suspect its name. 14 THE SOUL THE SOUL 1SIT beside the borders of my soul; Upon the glancing surface, to and fro, The swift -winged thoughts and bright im- pressions go. But most I love to gaze far, far below, Where budding fancies grow, And through the crystal vistas, shoal on shoal, Swift feelings dart, mysterious currents flow; The while the quickening breeze sings low to me: "Vast is thy soul, ay, boundless, like the sea." THE DEEPS OF SLEEP UNDER the waves of the deeps of sleep (Fathoms deep, fathoms deep), Let me lie on the ocean's bed (Cradled, cradled), SOUL AND SENSE While the deep sea's swirl swings over me (Tenderly, tenderly), And I know of naught save that swaying sea, And that ocean's harmony. THE REFUGE OF THE IDEAL OUR souls are sick for permanence} this world Shifts wearily on creaking poles through space; No atom stays, no friend; there is no place Where man may rest a heart through tran- science whirled. And we are sick for permanence. We know Too well how cities sink upon the sands; Yet far away one cloud-tipped city stands Secure, and through it ever, to and fro, Surges a voice that cries: "Ye sons of care, Frequent, with hearts appeased, my gleam- ing walls; 16 UNFITNESS Tread my white streets, and hear your sad footfalls Rise deathless music through my radiant O to attain this city of our quest, This luminous shelter for our souls' unrest! UNFITNESS OLORD, how are we fit to live, Since bartering life for greed of sense, And cheating faculties divine Create to reach Thy inmost shrine, We lose Thy finer consequence? THE SOWER TURN up the clods, O Sower, lank and thin. What dost thou sow therein? The spindling trees look on 5 some languid sheep, Like spectres grey, amid the stubble creep. SOUL AND SENSE The fields arc wide. What rank crop sow'st therein, Fierce farmer, bone and skin? The blackened stumps like outraged vic- tims rise, And toss wild arms protesting to the skies. " Small, potent seeds, rich seeds, I sow therein,'* Quoth he, with sallow grin; "Small seeds, so dark, and smooth, and rich I drop; Black little seeds. They make a mighty crop; They grow," laughed Sin. I THRALLS N what dark age, by what nefarious fate, Was this thing consummate? The altar stands upon a hollow mound; We circle, reeling, round. Uprises in grim hideousness the god; Our feet a path have trod. 18 THRALLS Around its neck hang dangling, precious things, It gleams with glittering rings. Its monstrous, sallow cheeks are streaked with red, As if our hearts had bled. Its locks are lank, it hath an evil leer; Alas ! what do we here? We, as we wheel, with kisses burnish bright The ghastly, gruesome sight, Till the brass glows like gold, and down below, Our blood and sweat-drops flow. Outside the temple beat the lofty trees, Against such walls as these ! They whisper through the windows; and aghast, The birds fly madly past. SOUL AND SENSE Woe! woe! Will no one break the rank and file, Cease worship of the vile? No one starts forth; and round in empty show We, faintly reeling, go. In what dark age, by what nefarious fate, Was this thing consummate? THE NATION STRONG is the nation. High her splendid brow The vast Republic rears above the seas, Crested with clamorous cities, row on row, Where once calm Nature's old, prophetic trees Whispered together, as the fitful breeze Brought on a white, a timid-fluttering sail. Now loud, strange powers vociferously prevail, Thick breaths resound, and shrill shrieks multiply, THE NATION And burdened prows dip low with many a bale 5 And He hath blessed us with prosperity. Free is the nation. Free from hoary fears, From phantoms of earth's king-encumbered past, It glitters, glitters on its golden piers, A throbbing mart, a roaring warehouse vast, Thrilled by an eager life respiring fast. O strange fulfilment of the Pilgrims' scheme When every brow bears Plutus' brand! We deem The highest excellence plutocracy; And liberty? An ancient, austere dream, Since He hath blessed us with prosperity. Faithful the nation. On the savage beach, Beneath the brooding boughs our fathers bent, The rock their altar; and their God to reach, Ere they to splendid duties simply went, Through the blue air their fiery souls they sent, SOUL AND SENSE And dreamed who knows what Spirit-touch to feel? And we? We are their children. See, we kneel. The same hot zeal and fierce sincerity Our yearning vows to the gold calf reveal 5 For He hath cursed us with prosperity. THE CHRIST-CHILD ALONE IN the long pageant of man's destiny, A sweep of sunburnt country and a hill, Where sits a little child to watch the sky. O little Jesus, wide-eyed, charmed, and still, How doth thy hushed, expectant, wonder- ing will Commune with blade, and flower, and startled thing That flits across thy path on timid wing? What thoughts, what dreams, what hopes, what fantasies, Doth yon vast sweep of radiant heavens bring? In thy child's brain loom what strange images? 22 SINNERS AND RIGHTEOUS SINNERS AND RIGHTEOUS THE man is wronged. Ay, is he wronged or no? He hates, at least, and hatred is his means To frantic love, the love of his revenge. This creeps at night and clasps him by the throat, And clings about his panting, laboring heart. He ringers steel and cons in his hot brain The words that are most keen to stab and kill. Above all gifts he hungers for the hour When his rapt soul shall feed, in vulture- wise, And be appeased, because the foe lies prone, Slain at the promptings of his cruel will; Since the gnarled soul finds slaughter ex- cellent. The evil woman suns her by her door. Her net is spread beside her. In the house Are piles of spoil, a gleam of gaudy wares. SOUL AND SENSE Once, long ago, she sat beside a stream, And pranked her curls and glanced into the stream. A hunter stepped across the brook, and gazed Into her shallow soul. Those eyes of hers Turned his to smouldering fire. In her lap He tossed a ring. The sunlight from the brook Fled to the ringj the gem flashed out; she saw Its leaping fire blend with his burning eyes. Such gems, such looks, to her seem ex- cellent. How bright the hue of gold! How warm it is, The gleaming gold! It crackles and it burns Upon the heart of him who loves it well, Like fire on a hearthstone. More and more Must go to feed this fire, content this flame, Stronger than love of women in its power. And yet ambition's guerdon is the best, 24 SINNERS AND RIGHTEOUS High up a seat, and under either foot The neck of something human, 'neath the throne The throb of million hearts; and then to stretch A head that looks so little 'gainst the blue, And make the earth's face alter! This is best. These are the men and women! Then behold, Robed in pure white, before a spotless shrine, A priest who drops his sacrifice, and turns, Strides through the splendid temple to the gate, And sets himself, a pillar, in a strife Of creatures with hands crisped to hurt and kill. Calm on the mount, with hands out- stretched to bless, Arms spread upon the cross wide to em- brace And compass half a world, to Thee a life Epitomizing all that man can spend In loyalty to Good seems excellent; And beauty nestles earthward like a dove. SOUL AND SENSE THE OLD INCONSISTENCY THE world was at her feasting, when the world Fled wildly forth, with drunken eyes astare; Behold for toasting, at her glittering board Christ took a vacant chair. The world was at her ruling, when a cry Of fear rang shrilly from her perjured throat; For lo, Christ, entering in the polling booth, Would count the city" 1 s vote. The world was at her trading, whe'n she groaned, Lest once again the whip of cords were whirled And panic raised; the Christ, wide-eyed on change, Affrayed the money-world. IN PRAISE OF PAIN The world was at her loving, when her cheek From burning red turned to a ghastly pale; In the dim brothel, where her love was hid, Christ raised the silken veil. The world was at her dying, nearly spent, Her failing strength could scarcely breath afford ; When turning, weeping, on her clammy bed, She called on Christ the Lord. IN PRAISE OF PAIN POTENT is pain, C Goodly the flower Blooming in myriad thorns through the quivering brain, Thrusting triumphal its roots through the tissue that lives. Mighty the host, Palpitant, pieiced; 27 SOUL AND SENSE Greatest the one in the purple who suffered the most; Splendid the scarlet of wounds in the hands and the feet. Heaven a-wing, In rays from the Throne; Glory of light round a Godhead, whose seraphim sing Of pain triumphant, compassionate, inly- imposed. BEAUTY FOUND HE was so near, so near he almost caught Her flying robes, he thought. When lo, a rasping, grievous voice out- broke; A creature clutched his cloak. He saw two eyes, deep haunts of misery, Gaze on him piteously. THE VISION OF THE FATES He struggled * gainst their pleading, yet he turned, Compassion in him burned. He stooped, he soothed and smoothed the hideous head} Last he embraced the dead. Sudden, full-orbed, within his arms he caught That Beauty that he sought. THE VISION OF THE FATES /CIRCLING the caldron of life, V^l Cluster the Fates in a ring, And fierce is the frequent, bubbling strife Of the caldron strange as they sing: " Change, change, change, Since the life of the planet began ; Change, change, ever change, Through plant, and through beast, and through manj 29 SOUL AND SENSE "Change, change, change, Since the sands of the ages have run; Change, change, ever change; Will the changes then never be done? "Change, change, change; But we sing, for but lately we saw, Amid the fumes of the caldron strange, A Vision of Perfect Law. ' * And the fumes of the caldron rise, As they circle about in a ring, With worship and awe in their glittering eyes, Half-hid by the smoke as they sing. CONSUMMATION THE Lord of the centuries said, To the primitive woman who dandled her babe: "Love it well, love it well; Who can tell, who can tell; Love it living, and love it dead," The Lord of the centuries said. 30 AWAKENING The Lord of the centuries said, To the wild, wolf-like man in the shadowy cave: " Shield the child, shield the wife, With thy blood, with thy life; Shield thine own, shield thine own, be they living or dead," The Lord of the centuries said. The Lord of the centuries said: "I have sown me a marvellous, fruit-bear- ing seed. Love shall grow to the cross, Till man love his own loss, Love my love after Me, after Me, heart and head. Ah joy, my joy! " the Lord of the centu- ries said. AWAKENING HEAVEN is a state of fine resolve, I deem; And shall he breathe in Heaven who never drew SOUL AND SENSE His soul's breath deeply, as enraged to do, Drunk with some glimpse of God's con- summate scheme? O we are never saved until it seem, In some mad moment, that the Truth is true, Inexorable, insatiate to pursue, Hem us around, and hurl us from our dream; Then find our souls fit allies marshalling, A Heaven alert for our awakening. A NEW DRINKING SONG DRINK of my wine, O God; Thou know'st the feet that trod The groaning press; the hands were also Thine That hewed the clusters with the sword, To make this wine of mine; Drink to the lees, O Lord, Drink of Thy wine. 32 REALITY REALITY THE rough, bare sides of stern reality I clasp, to them I cling, Too close for song. Once from a golden goblet full of gleams, I poured me streams of dreams; But that was long ago, how long! Slow God unveils the massive peaks of stone, The chasmed cliffs, to these I turn alone, For these alone are strong. As ivy clings, God's stern reality I clasp, to it I cling. PRAYER I IN mine own hell, mid tools to torture me, Forged by myself long since, unwittingly, I sit me down to pray. 33 SOUL AND SENSE The beckoning shadows, sloping on the wall, Make all things living, sinister, and tall, In mine own hell. Sometimes a molten fire sears my face 5 Then o'er my naked hearth the chill winds race, And whistle shrill. Sometimes I feel dog-memory's shrewd bite; Then nothing visits me the livelong night, So dark, so long! I am aghast at the grim hush and gloom, At the ghost-haunted precincts of this room, Of mine own place. Yet in mine hell, mid tools to torture me, Forged by myself long since, unwittingly, I sit me down to pray. 34 PRAYER II No more mine eyes peruse the shadowy floor, Nor fasten wildly on the barred door, For help delayed. Sweet peace now seals them, and I know such thrills, As when fresh hope the twigs and blossoms fills, And spring is here. Toward me flows rapture 5 such a rush of life, Giving the lie to fear, to loss, to strife, Hell is not hell. So in mine hell, mid sights to madden me, Learning how God may find and gladden me, I sit me down to pray. 35 SOUL AND SENSE THE WHOLE A SOUL may wander through dim shades of night, In doubt and darkness dense, in pain and dole 5 Yea, sin and pain may bow to loathsome plight A soul. Yet could our faint eyes grasp the wondrous whole, See life emerge through failure into might, As swims the cloud-rid moon from pole to pole, Should we not see, through darkness, bane, and blight, God drawing to Himself, Himself the goal, Through shifting shadows, to the perfect light, A soul? THE SAVED THE SAVED THOUGH ye shift, O times, as the world spins round, Swift as the waters turn and drift, What care we, who the word have found, Though ye shift? We have found the word that fills the rift In the lute of life here over the ground, We can list to the strain, and the meaning sift; Whispered in Heaven where joys abound, Breathed by the winds as the light leaves lift, Taught us by God. We shall hear the sound, Though ye shift. 37 SOUL AND SENSE CLIMBING WITH thee to climb to, I could scale The skyey, topmost towers of Heaven above; With thee to climb to, could I fail To reach clear heights where radiant pow- ers prevail? With thee to climb to, love? PURITY IF I should bathe me for a thousand years, O love, my love, In crystal fountains full of cleansing tears Of saints above; If I should pray, And beat my breast, and fasting day by day, Weep bitterly; As pure as you are pure I could not be, When, at still eventide, unto the light 38 REPOSE You lift your eyes to watch the swallow's flight, Lost in the sky's unfathomed mystery, Where God may be. REPOSE I THANK you, love, for your supreme repose, Slow-moving grace; You bring a dream of clinging hands that softly close An instant's space. You move as in the green-hung forests sway The happy boughs; One seems to feel leaf-touches light, that flickering, play On burning brows. And when you raise your calm and stead- fast eyes, Our soul-pangs cease; It is as if the fair, unchanging summer skies Had spoken: " Peace." 39 SOUL AND SENSE BETHESDA WHAT though I dragged me to the pool alone? Crowded with other cripples round its brink? What though, by propping me against a stone, I somehow found the strength to stoop and drink? Of what avail to strain, to strive, to sink? - In Heaven God's pity woke and gave me thee; O love more true than this poor heart can think, Stooping, thou stirredst the pool of life for me. ESTRANGEMENT IF death had intervened to whisper, "Nay, No farther!" But not thus she slips beyond My world of word, and look, and musing fond, Invisible, and just across the way. 40 Nn nther Hi ASLEEP No other life than this life laps her round} I can suspect the sunshine shining there In warm caress upon her braided hair; Her head turns gracefully at some quick sound. Into some book her slender finger slips To mark her reading; through her house- plants bright, Green, delicate rays touch her calm cheek with light, And linger on the straight line of her lips. The welcome of her grey eyes goes her way To greet some chance incomer. Ah, sad heart, Lost exile from her where she sits apart, If death had intervened to whisper, " Nay ! * ' ASLEEP T TNERRINGLY as swallows seek the \J South, In sleep my thoughts, unerring, fly to thee; SOUL AND SENSE By day I chide them for audacity; By night they know thy hands and feel thy mouth. Alas ! they may not stir thy life-stream deep, Yet let them skim the current of thy dreams. How fly they? Nay, I only know it seems Thy cheek is laid to my cheek, being asleep. DREAM-MUSIC I DREAMED we sat in silence, she and I. Long, long the stillness brooded. Where- fore speak Since words are poor and weak? At last I saw upon a shelf close by, A viol small and graceful, such of eld The kindly masters held. Into my hands I took it eagerly. The tones were brief and broken, low and pained, As if by dread restrained, * 42 DREAM-MUSIC As my love for my lady still must be. Yet my soul entered in the instrument, O'er which I trembling bent, So that at last I knew not, verily, Whether I swept a viol or my heart For her who sat apart. Then with set lip, with large, dilated eye, She whom I loved leaned toward me, fall- ing fast Her pitying tears at last; Herself was in her look, and all for me. I held, possessed her; rang out every string With keen, triumphant ring. One broke at length. Her eyes turned heavily. Was it a viol or my heart string broke? What matter? I awoke. 43 SOUL AND SENSE IMPERFECTION APPLES of friendship, not earth's warm- est sun Can make you perfect? Tainted, every one? Yet taint and all, I needs must find you sweet, And lest I starve stretch forth my hand and eat. LOVE'S THRIFT IN the merry month of May, Let young Love go wood-cutting. Do you ask why such employ For this saucy, lovely boy? Dear, it is not airways May. Down his shafts and crossbow gay, For a hatchet let him fling. See the fagots piled with care By his fingers debonair, While the woods ring loud with May. FORGET-ME-NOTS Rough Love' s labor would you say? Dear, when angry blasts would sting, He must keep our hearthstone warm, Though without us howl the storm, And it is not always May. FORGET-ME-NOTS THE valley is in shade, for hills rise high Like gaping jaws with sharp and jagged teeth, That mutter threats against the impassive sky, And overawe the cowering spot beneath. About the summits clings a twisted sheet Of ghostly snow, and ever in a wreath Of formless mist, of gusty, drifting sleet, A vaporous breath uprises icily. Amid the crags the flocks forlornly bleat, And up and down their hoof-tracks heavily Score the old slopes of herbage faint and rare. Down in the valley, creaking ceaselessly, 45 SOUL AND SENSE Grows one dark pine. What bird would ever dare To perch upon its sapless boughs of want, Or sing by yonder hovels grim and bare? Crushed 'neath cold roofs of stone, laid all aslant, Anchors to stay them 'gainst the winter dread, These huts seem tombs men's wraiths alone should haunt. The road winds by them as in haste it fled To leave such dim, sad thresholds in its wake; Yet by the ditch-side, mid the sorrel red, Bloom blue forget-me-nots, for love's sweet sake. LOVE'S MIRACLE LOVE'S MIRACLE LOVE, work thy wonted miracle to-day. Here stand, in jars of manifold design, Life's bitter waters, mixed with mire and clay, And thou canst change them into purest LOVE IS KIND LOVE abhorreth not the cross, Even the cross j Truest love avoids not loss, Courteth loss. Love is patient and resigned, Still resigned; Being akin to God in kind, Love is kind. 47 SOUL AND SENSE FAIR THOUGHTS OF LOVE FAIR thoughts of Love loom over us like birds, And brood upon our lives and nurse our days. These are the agencies, the genial powers And winged things of Fate. These angels search our very hearts. Their words Tremble through chaos 5 countless subtle ways They find to instigate our drowsy hours To fellowship with God. FROM PERSONAL TO UNIVERSAL SEE how the circles widen, till they meet The world' s far-distant verge, with ten- der stir: And even the world's dim, distant shores are sweet, Because (O Love, the Lord!) I think of her. 48 LIGHT LIGHT HE wills we may not read life's book aright, Wrest from each awful line its meaning clear, Till we have bowed to read it by the light Of pallid tapers on some true-love's bier. THE SPIRIT THAT AFFIRMS TO THE SPIRIT THAT DENIES THE incurable hoper smiled: " Saved, saved at last! " "How?" cried the doubter, that grim sceptic base Who haunts us, fearful questions on his face. " By dying," gasped the other as they passed. 49 SOUL AND SENSE TESTIMONY "T TIS end," we say. Ah, foolish words AA and weak We dare to whisper whenas God would speak, Yea, utter speech from death's black portal grim : " Shall man not live, since / have lived with him? " THE CHILD AND SORROW WITH never a thought of the morrow, Into the greenwood wild Wandered a gleeful child} Saw there a quivering shape, Nerveless and terrible-eyed; " Who are you? " cried the boy. " Sorrow,' 1 the shape replied. And lower the clear birds sung, As her ominous voice replied, And slower the green leaves swung: Till sudden the wood was stilled By the pang that her deep eyes filled. 5 SURPRISAL " Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow!'* Carolled he, shrill and light, Turning to butterflies bright. Awfully starting away, Crooning low like a Fate, Awfully Sorrow frowned : (t l can wait, wait, wait," So her dolorous descant ran, " I can wait, wait, wait, I can wait till the child is a man/'' Sobbed the green leaves round his head Like mourners who sob for the dead. SURPRISAL WE have known slack threads in life, vain, vacant hours That brittly broke from off Fate' s rattling reel, In tag and tatter; Far out of reach hung our accustomed powers, We could not lift the shield nor wield the steel; Ah well, what matter? SOUL AND SENSE Ah, what if Death (ere the tranced soul awoke) Had stolen on us with stealthy steps, as thus We dozed in the sun? And grinning like a showman with his joke, Before God and His angels ushered us, Ashamed, undone? OLD AND YOUNG /CHILDREN and old folk greet us on VJ the road As we ride onward. Trailing his long goad Beside the ox-cart, the bowed peasant grey, The bent old woman crawling from the field, Dragging the scythe her arms no more can wield, Give wistfully, " Good-day." The baby, striving in the door to stand, Pleased with our jingling mule-bells, waves his hand, Not us to greet, but life. The old muse thus: 5* AN IMPERIAL RELIC "Who knows if our dim eyes shall e'er behold Another traveller? " With grimaces cold, Death peers at them through us. AN IMPERIAL RELIC THE church is old and dim. The sacristan, With tremulous murmurs, waves us to a room Of chilly masonry and daylight wan. There by a press, slow-fumbling in the gloom, He lights his dusty lamp, with unction strange, While we look on, too idle to assume A faded interest. Now he throws a range Of doors agape 5 the swiftly leaping light Begins its riot inward. Lo, the change! 53 SOUL AND SENSE What pomp is here? Our listlessness takes flight Before the splendid crucifix, the shrine, The grey saints' skulls enriched with rubies bright, With emerald eyes ablaze around a sign On a pale scroll, the mark of Charles the Great, Strong hieroglyph, that strides amid the fine And priestly script of Alciun sedate, Above a seal, indented by the end Of the king's dagger-hilt of ponderous weight. Over the symbol breathlessly we bend; The whitewashed room grows reverend and vast. It is as if we, too, must needs descend, As Otho did, through the majestic past; And in a death-vault's dimly-lighted space, Some ancient grave-digger, with look aghast, 54 A MODERN SIR GALAHAD Raising a coffin-lid, with old grimace, And trembling hand, half paralyzed and weak, Had bared the Emperor's sepulchred face, With color still in the stern brow and cheek. A MODERN SIR GALAHAD THIS is Sir Galahad. Clear from the mist Of the past we can see him, gracious, fair; The lips that the Spirit loved and kissed; The halo of palely golden hair; The brow to the light of the vision bare. But a doubt to the depths of his bright soul creeps, And Sir Galahad weeps. Is it Sir Galahad? Forged to endure This armor; these are his true young eyes; These are the wasted profile pure, The eager hands that should grasp the prize, The voice that should thrill with the glad surprise; 55 SOUL AND SENSE But a doubt to the heart of the Knight is come, And Sir Galahad's dumb. Himself he has questioned: " What is the grail, That by the vision should be revealed?" He has waited. Alas, now visions fail! So he mounts his steed and takes his shield, And now he fares through town and field $ Since doubt has entered Sir Galahad's breast, The Knight cannot rest. Poor Sir Galahad! Visionless Knight! The other knew visions} ah, happy he! But for thee, who seekest the mystery bright, Full of agony, bend we the knee And pray that thy soul its hope may see, Even if it come with thy latest breath, And through that revealer whom men call Death. THAT DAY THAT DAY OHOLY day, how still shall be their tread That bear me out from the loud halls of life, From where the conflicts rage, the feast is spread ! I can endure, can steep me in the strife, Since mid life's jars thou wait'st unwearied, Calm, holy day, the day when I lie dead. DEATH THE LOVER DEATH, let me grip thine hand. I cannot understand What Life is buzzing to me, bending low, Low by my listening ear j But thou art plain, thy speech is calm and clear, Certain thy brief command. Death, let me know thine arm Shall shield me from Life's harm, Tell me again thou waitest still beside, 57 SOUL AND SENSE Beside yon low-browed gate; True lover, so in steadfastness to wait, In patient, perfect calm. Do, Life, thy silly best, Tempt on some frantic quest Poor souls with piping preludes; ever Death, Death waits by yon yew tree, And strong and imperturbable is he, And in his arms is rest. THE FADING OF THE LIGHT IN limpid light the glacier's silvery flow Flashes to splendor; half way down the height, Dark pines turn vivid, clothed with mellow might; And, lava-like, the stream pours fire below. Above the ice-peaks, lucidly aglow, The slow sun lingers; fine-spun cloud- shreds bright THE VOICE OF DEATH Dapple the radiant air and swim in light, Till sinks the orb. Now outlines vanish slow; First at our feet the flow'rs grow faint and wan; Then calm, dread fading out from peak and tree Of light the eye still clings to, lapses on; While to the heart pierces, with night's chill breath, Presageful knowledge of the hour of death, When from us light shall fail inexorably. THE VOICE OF DEATH LOVE of the dead hath wrought in me some shame. My sins besiege, beset me, without end; My being falters like a slender flame Rocked by resistless currents, fain to bend, To call on some strong name. 59 SOUL AND SENSE In lieu of that I dreamed to be the whole, The vast mechanic rise and fall of law, I feel strange eyes that fasten on my soul, Strange shapes that pluck my garments, and would draw To some dear-purchased goal. Great Death hath passed this way, his noise- less tread Hath shook the very centre of my heart; His hand once laid upon my shrinking head, Hath left a brand that never shall depart; I mind me what he said: "Dost thou yearn after him hath come with me? Then listen, thou : There is one law, one hope, one destiny, For then and now. Wouldst thou be near him, touch his golden hair, See his calm face, And know his heart-throbs? One sole road leads there. To my still place Full many pathways wander, full of gloom, One, only one, 60 THE VOICE OF DEATH Leads where he lives, to that clear, radiant room This soul hath won Through loyal love; love's yoke he bore in life With lofty cheer; Shalt thou, O faithless, find through love- less strife, His presence dear?" Death's voice goes echoing on. Mid dark- ened graves I seem to stand, and ever closer wind The shapes about me in strong, eddying waves. How shall I find my dead? How ever find That reverent love that saves? I stumble in the darkness, every breath Drawn gasping in thick twilight all about. Is here the pathway? Naught the dim night saith, But through the dark those shapes that find me out, The echoing voice of Death. 61 SOUL AND SENSE RUMOR FROM BEYOND AH, heavy leisure of a cureless grief! Yet while earth grows unreal, from un- dreamed spaces Dim, shadowy figures slant their solemn faces, Their deep eyes splendid with appeased belief. Close to the heart, this light throng whis- pereth A rumor. Swift as darts the skimming swallow The quick breath finds the heart's death- chamber hollow, The silvery strain smites through the hush of death. Transfusing yearning's bitter discontent With promise of large doom, ethereal voices, Make music, for a hidden hope rejoices 5 Thrill, for the heart shall yet give back assent. AFIELD And, " Peace," they breathe, "a peace unstained of strife; Life for the dead, undying glorious life." AFIELD I HAVE gazed upon the earth with happy eyes; I have given their due to blossom, blade, and tree; Beneath my feet the great field's golden glee Flees up to where grey, gaunt old fences And bar its flight in zigzag, clinging-wise, Lest on the shadowy hills' immensity Of purple shade, it rush, impetuously, To scale yon blue tranquillity of skies. Here quiver, on the nut's sun-dappled bole, Red squirrel-flanks; there cheeps a swal- low's bill; Mid-field a robin pauses, perks, is still. SOUL AND SENSE An ecstasy of life thrills through the whole. Now my eyes float with clouds, having climbed the hill, And floods of quenchless light my being fill. SUN, CARDINAL, AND CORN FLOWERS WHENCE gets earth her gold for thee, O Sunflower? Her woven, yellow locks so fine Must go to make that gold of thine. And whence thy red beside the stream, O Cardinal-flower? She pricks some vein lies near her heart That thy rich, ruddy hues may start. And whence thy blue amid the corn, O Corn-flower? Her deep-blue eyes gleam out in glee, The glories of her work to see. STILLNESS STILLNESS THIS morning it was very still. Like wild-rose petals cloudlets lay In the wide hush; there was no thrill Of any leaf-point; far away, The burnished mirror of the bay Reflected, in clear depths aglaze, The tranquil-tinted cheeks of day, Half drowsing through a cobweb haze. CRAGS ON THE HUDSON LIKE fierce, impetuous lions rushing fast To lave their burning feet, then suddenly, Stopped, turned to stone, they stand im- movably, Their crests upreared to Heaven, as in a last, Mad howl of grim despite. Bare to the blast Their wrinkled crowns, but down below a ring About their captive feet the earth hath cast Of delicate verdure redolent of spring. 65 SOUL AND SENSE THE PLACE IS CHILL THE place is chill as it were night; Inexorably the keen winds bite; High in this mountain's solitude, Stripped of the valley' s wavering mood, We feel all Nature's brutal might. Rough boulders span the stream; in fright It hurries on, its surface white With lingering foam ; with spray imbrued The place is chill. Yet look toward yonder peak's bare height; Grey walls still cling to that grim site. Here, then, with stalwart hearts endued, Men once braved Nature's menace rude. How few the blocks still left upright! The place is chill. 66 TORPOR TORPOR THIS afternoon life's good word trails its wing; I know not where to find a rumor kind. The hills are shrivelled, and no bird will sing, No bush will bloom, no brook will speak its mind; Life fails for torpor, and swift -footing by, A fierce wind plucks the last leaves faint and dry. THE HEART OF MAN I WAIT the word of destiny that shall explain, The word inexorable that shall impart. Meanwhile the sun drifts o'er the glittering plain, The lily's chalice gleams, the swallows dart; There is not anywhere a hint of pain; The pain for all the Universe is in my heart. 67 SOUL AND SENSE SUNSHINE ON THE LAWN UPON the lawn lie floods of yellow light, And yellow puffballs, downy, soft, and round, The dandelions make the greensward bright; Upon the lawn lie floods of yellow light. Above are yellow butterflies in flight, Gay sparks of light that flicker from the ground; Upon the lawn lie floods of yellow light, And yellow puffballs, downy, soft, and round. AUTUMNAL PEACE THESE still, translucent, and embalmed days, The emblazoned splendors of the silent wood Send to the very soul, in subtle ways, Calm benedictions phrased in quietude. Uplifting is the blue pond's fearless mood 63 SUNSET Of frankness flashed to Heaven. The mind is stilled To follow flights of birds; the heart fulfilled By calm, pervasive chorals' gentle strife, Tender, restrained, on lambent air distilled In drifting dirges of submissive life. SUNSET the sun drops low, ^Let us turn and go Through the still, old town, to the place Where the grey bridge lies, And the church towers rise Against a turquoise space. Against a fold Of the sunset's gold (For the sunset is gold to-night), Stark poplars stand On the near mainland, And bathe their peaks in the light. Betwixt the bridge And the mainland's ridge The basin is full of fire; 'Tis smooth and still, SOUL AND SENSE And down from the hill The tinkle of bells draws nigher. From a grassy side, To the pool's calm tide, The cattle straggle to drink Of the flame-colored stream, And the orange gleam, That tinges the water's brink, Makes flame their flanks * Gainst the shining banks, Where the golden bubbles wink, As the sun's broad rays, In a jewelled blaze Of royal colors, sink. THE BATS' REVEL LIKE a stronghold frowning, Armed men might enter, High the hillock crowning At the grey town's centre, Stands the old church massive, Bare, save from one corner Juts a shape impassive, Saint, or knight, or mourner, 70 THE BATS' REVEL Lady, page, or squire, None can now discover} All the windows higher, Ivy covers over. Dropping blossoms yellow, Crowd fair lindens blooming} And around stand mellow, Peaked old houses looming, Gables piled together, Rising high and higher} Moonlight, this clear weather} Then from the church spire, Into space out-sweeping, As the moon shines clearer, Myriad bats are keeping Revels queer and queerer, Whirling in strange manner From this Christian steeple, Worshipping Diana, Scandalizing people ! SOUL AND SENSE THE RUNE OF THE WIND OUT of limitless acres of space Flutters a voice, to die or obtain; Out of mystery's dwelling-place; Is it breathing of rapture or pain? O thou, aloft like a witch in the air, Now in the east and now in the west, Canst thou not lisp us the lifelong quest? Murmuring sayings of sibylline eld, Babbling messages blindly spelled, Tossed in the north and tossed in the south, Breathe us life's spell with thy lipless mouth, Pray the ineffable prayer. Prophet of mysteries, visions rehearse, Chant us the rune that we hunger to read; For Hell incommunicate voices we need, For Heav'n such anthems speechless and vast; Piercing the future, possessing the past, Recount us transcendence, grandilo- quent, come! Words avail us not. Lo, thou art dumb, Yet thou speakest the Universe. 72 THE SWALLOW As waiteth the earth for thee we would wait, Straining in stress at the sound of the sweep Of thy rapturous intoning, cadenced, deep} Trembling in hush at the tingling thrill Of thy delicate whisper small and still} Immersed in brightness, involved in gloom, Voice of man's latent, searchless doom, Thou inarticulate! Out of limitless acres of space Flutters a voice, to die or obtain; Out of mystery* s dwelling-place; Is it breathing of rapture or pain? THE SWALLOW HIGH in the air the swallow wings, Darts and swings; And the red sun's anguish is in the west. The red sun reaches the swallow's breast, The warm, white breast is dyed by the west, A dazzling red-gold is the breast. And now he wings, Darts and swings, A palpitant sunbeam, borne on wings. 73 SOUL AND SENSE TRANSFORMATION THE waters in resistless flow Give themselves over to the fall 5 Torn into spray they fume below, As if the extent of fate to know Against the cliffs' impassive wall. But when close by, 'twixt boulders high, Avoiding harm with steady wing, Yon wood-dove white soared suddenly, This wild place thrilled to ecstasy, And came to pass a wondrous thing. The vista' d cliffs appeared a nave, The blue sky shone a painted dome, The dove winged on men's souls to save, And 'twas God's Love, a torrent wave, Swept through this church in awful foam. 74 EARLIER PIECES THE OUTSIDE SKY SHALL I live in piles of masonry? Shall I sit me down in my palace of sense, And cognisance take, and mastery, Of every wonder brought from thence, From hither and yon, by my senses fine, And heaped up high in this palace of mine? Fair is the palace, O, fair to see; Carven with figures gay is the wall, And hung with storied tapestry ; And I could be happy here withal, But that out of the pierced windows high I can just catch a glimpse of the outside sky. SOUL AND SENSE A COMMON MIRACLE SOMETIMES we lie awake, too spent to weep, Longing for rest as deserts long for rain; Wondering what spirit stirs the tired brain; Why the poor heart should weary vigil keep; Why night withhold the pleasant touch of sleep From our pale eyelids; murmuring: "Life is pain; O for that rest that doth not wake again! " Then comes a sound of rushing through the air, And the baked sands drink up the plashing rain; Sleep soaks our souls in answer to our prayer; And, marvelous! the next day life is plain, Easy and simple, profitable and fair. THE PERFECT DAY THE PERFECT DAY IT is so short a space 'twixt day and night! Can ye not keep it spotless, heart and brain? Will ye not league to keep the scutcheon bright Of these few hours? Then, without one stain, Bearing the blazon of a heavenly light, Thou shalt be hung aloft, O perfect day, In my dark halls of life, and to my sight Shalt gleam a star, to show me what I may. SINS OF OMISSION THAT deed I should have compassed yesterday Did grow and grow, till like a weight it lay Upon me, though I turned and went my way. 79 SOUL AND SENSE But not to safety, for around my bed All the undone doth gather, and like lead Will on my coffin weigh, when I am dead; And nailing me within, with deathly stress, Will keep from me the sun of righteous- ness, Which may not enter through, my sleep to bless. FAILURE SET the pale mark of failure on my brow When I am dead. Those who have won, the garland's grace may show, But not my head. I never touched achievement, still it fled; And what I wrought I did not see nor know. Set the pale mark of failure on my brow, And let me go. 80 DEJECTION DEJECTION LIKE to a bird with broken wings Is my soul, Which cannot rise from earthly things To view the whole. When it would rise its poor wings trail, - Alas, poor soul! It sees but one pool and the sedges pale, Not the whole. LIFE COMES TO SOME LIFE comes to some with aspect bright, Her hair ablaze With JQwels' rays, And in her cincture gleaming jets of light. To some with halting step and slow, With tangled hair, And eyes astare For what is not, she comes, and will not go. 81 SOUL AND SENSE HEAVEN AND HELL SHALL I seek Heaven that I may find a place Where with my soul 'tis well? If I seek thus, though I may strive for Heaven, My face is set toward Hell. IN YOUR MIND IN your mind (now you will think me fanciful), In its bright, breezeless, and clarified at- mosphere, Sit I and muse as in a sunlit garden, Or like a god move blissful to and fro. Never a day, passed mid that garden's loveliness, Love-sharp eyes scanning its beauty nar- rowly, Wandering under its sun-translucent foli- age, Never, my love, found I a single weed. 82 ALONE ALONE THOU art alone, my sister? Dost thou guess The meaning of such loneliness as thine? It is as if there towered a soaring pine Amid a vast and tangled wilderness Of lesser growth. Aloft, mid strain and stress Of weather, doth it rear its tapering, fine, And haughty peak. And how, without some sign, Should creeping things suspect its loneliness? How should they dream of pangs, to them unknown, That rend in growth each gently swaying limb? And how conceive the strange, insistent moan Of winds that stir such lofty branches dim? Earthward they look; while full of mystery, And skyward pointing, towers the stately tree. SOUL AND SENSE II But comes there not a time in which the wind Breathes music softly for the pine-tree's own Enchanted hearing? When for it alone The clouds their splendid, fleecy locks un- bind And spread them out in air? And though they find It ever soaring, while the world lies prone, 'Tis as the monarch is upon his throne, His solitary griefs with joys combined. Alone with wind and clouds, the lesser mould May not attain thy height, but thou o'er them Canst bend thy boughs and whisper. Mighty-souled, Tell them of wind and clouds j offer thy stem If they would climb ; and find it good to be That which thou art, O solitary tree. 84 ONE WAY OF TRUSTING ONE WAY OF TRUSTING NOT trust you, dear? Nay, 'tis not true. As sailors trust the shifting sea From day to day, so I trust you. They know how smooth the sea can be 5 And well they know its treachery When tempests blow; yet forth they thrust Their ships, as in security. They trust it, dear, because they must. AGNOSTICS YE led by hands ye cannot see To heights ye cannot know, Who call your Godhead, Destiny, And deem the soul's futurity May, or may not, be so; Areye our saints? Areye the men To make our Israel whole again? SOUL AND SENSE At least the dear old fables taught Of hope, and Heaven, and love; And taught so well that men have wrought And battled; for a thing of naught? Nay, God be judge above! Within the balance of the Lord, Their deeds are weightier than your word. THE HEART OF THE CHRISTIAN TOWN 1AM held by a thought in a dungeon deep, Deep under the earth. In a certain town, Where traffic and roar infect the air, Where the fresh, salt wind, that fain would sweep Straight to the river, is laden down With all pollution, I saw a pair Pitiful pair of babies sit, Back from the street, in a doorway dim, On a tenement threshold cold and bare, Stirling each his sobbing fit, Fearful each lest he cry aloud, And draw the curse or the blow on him. 86 RETRIBUTION And the thought that holds me fast-bound, down Under the earth in a dungeon grim, Is that these two knew the heart of the crowd, In the very midst of the Christian town. RETRIBUTION FALSE, false, false. Wealth have ye and your brothers lie in the straw; Knowledge have ye and your brothers grope in the dark; Leisure have ye and your brothers are bound to the wheel; O false, false, false! False, false, false. Down from your painted couches into the street, Into the grimy square. In the glare of day, Shall ye not stoop to reap that ye have sown? O false, false, false! SOUL AND SENSE PEACE PEACE, peace. But where? Everywhere. In the air; In torrent's roar, And brook's soft sweep ; In things that soar, And things that creepy Where gardens bloom, In desert sand; Where pine-trees gloom, Where vineyards stand ; In crowded street, On trackless hill; In motions fleet, And trances still; In sailing clouds, And ocean's green; In chilly shrouds, And bright eyes' sheen; In noontide bright, And darkest night; Peace, peace. AN ORACLE But where? Everywhere To him who reads aright. AN ORACLE TREMBLING weakly beneath the bur- den of worthily living, Came to the angel of Fate a struggling soul, where, sphinx-like, Solemn, the angel sat, regarding the past and the future. Wearily murmured the soul: "Dost see my burden, O angel? Crushed 'neath this weight, in my woe, be- hold how I falter and stumble; How may I lighten my load?*' "By love," the angel made answer. "Loving is all my pain," the soul sighed out; "'neath the sorrow, Anguish of others I bow. And what may I add to my living To lighten so grievous a load? " " More love," the angel made answer. THE FIRST EDITION OF THIS BOOK CONSISTS OF FIVE HUNDRED COPIES WITH THIRTY- FIVE ADDITIONAL COPIES ON HAND-MADE PAPER PRINTED DURING MARCH 1896 BY THE EVERETT PRESS BOSTON Kimball, Sovl & P&rke K49 sense M39994 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY YC159451