Poems POEMS By Henriette de Saussure Blanding 1909-1910 [PRIVATELY PRINTED EDITION] San Francisco, California I Q I I Ctfjright, 1911 By GORDON BLANDING Printed T>y The Stanley-Taylor Company San Francisco TABLE OF CONTENTS The Master Touch . . . . . ."" i The Cataract 2 The Poet's Soul . 3 Sunset Land 6 Sunset v . 7 Love 8 On Reading Rosegger's "Waldschulmeister" . 9 To Eileen . 10 Twilight ii "Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things" . . . .12 Beethoven (Suggested by Lang's "Odyssey") . 14 Epitaph of a Nameless Hero . . . .15 On Reading Pater's "Child in the House" . 15 At a Concert \ 16 "The Rest Is Silence" 17 "Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire" . 18 To the Wind 20 Song . . . . . ' . . .21 Dawn \ . 22 Such Is My Love ...... 23 Aridness . . . . . . 24 Liberty , . 25 Beyond 26 Cecily ......... 27 Memories ....... 28 Sea Longing . 30 On a Portrait by Van Dyck .... 32 Friends 33 Storm 34 Apart . . . 38 Sandman's Land . . . ... 41 To Katherine ....... 43 Wordsworth (after reading "Tintern Abbey"). 44 Premonition ....... 45 Song . . :\ ,; * ^ . . v*; 46 Death in Life * 47 Life's Purpose 48 Isolation ........ 49 The Nature Lover ... . . . 50 Absence 5 2 To Dicky 53 Exile * . .54 At Dusk 55 Spring Song . . . . . 56 To the Skeptic . 57 Butterflies . . 58 Ashtoreth 59 Sunlight and Shadow 61 Revelation ....... 62 From a Window ....... 63 Two Prayers . ... . . . 64 Moods . . . 65 Man . ..... . . 66 Solitude . . . . . . . -67 Sea Fog . . . . . ... 68 The Call of the Sea . . . . .69 The Matilija Poppy ..... 71 Resurrection . . ' . . -73 Noon in the Sierra . . . , . . 77 Sunrise Over Shasta 80 In an Art Gallery . . . . 83 Necessity ........ 88 To Dorothy 89 To My Father 93 Sonnets 97-101 The Idealist 102 Sonnet 103-105 The Artist 106 Sonnets 107-109 Sonnet . - .no Poems THE MASTER TOUCH He dreamed and sought divinest minstrelsy, Would praise the gods in some immortal song, Bequeath to ages dim a harmony Wrung from his soul, in utterance rich and strong. With forceful hand he struck his magic lute Harsh dissonance and screeching discord woke The heavenly tones he sought, forever mute; In hopeless rage the quivering string he broke. Another found the maimed and piteous thing, Across the jangling strings his fingers drew, Some tender, simple melody to sing He touched a note, and, lo, the chord rang true! [i] THE CATARACT In the regions cold of those summits old Whose pines pierce the azure sky, In the crevice deep where in crystal heap The ice-bound glaciers lie, On the steep heights gray where in golden ray Glows the first cold gleam of morn, In the chilling frost of the still white North, In a snowbank was I born. The harsh winds roar and the hailstones pour, As I rush with exultant whirl O'er the stone cliffs bare, round which fiercely fair The cloudships wildly swirl; The tall pines groan as with strength unknown I dash over tree and snag; With a mighty song, out of bondage long, Do I leap from crag to crag. Of the thunder's crash, of the lightning's flash, Of the blast of the Storm King's breath, Of the wild beast's cry to the lowering sky, Of the swift-winged shaft of Death, Of the torrent wide that with surging tide Rushes onward through cleft and glen, From my Northland white, of great Freedom's might Do I sing to the hearts of men. [2] THE POET'S SOUL In forest glades primeval When gods and earth were young, Ere clashing din of evil Across the world had rung, A bright-eyed wood sprite slender Sought vainly one soul tender, Who fittingly might render The song as yet unsung. He stole Aurora's glory, That crimsoned all the earth; The breezes' whispered story; The robin's note of mirth; Spring's passionate caresses; Apollo's fiery tresses; The sigh which love confesses All April's golden worth; The calm of twilight even, With purple cloud drifts far, When from the depths of heaven Shines forth Orion's star; The surging wild emotion With which the restless ocean Beats in undying motion Upon the distant bar; [3] The tenderness of lovers Alone in moonlit bowers, Where subtle fragrance hovers Of dew-distilled flowers; Sweetness of feigned embraces; Pathos of long loved faces Oblivion soon effaces With Time's relentless hours; Suffering and sin and sorrow And weary weight of years; Dead past and dread tomorrow Filled with foreboding fears; Worn eyes in vigil waking; Strong hearts with sorrow breaking; Weak hearts with dullness aching, And helpless, human tears; Bright childhood's splendor golden That knows no hope deferred; Faith of the ages olden, By doubting thought ne'er stirred; Desire and passion burning; Heart for a heaven yearning; Power of at last discerning Life's hidden secret word; [4] The melody immortal That sings through all the world; The light through heaven's portal Of angel wings unfurled; The peace of woe's cessation; The joy of all creation; The wild wind's exultation; The sheen of dewdrops pearled These with the waste of waters That spread from pole to pole- Earth's fairest sons and daughters, The bright-eyed spirit stole; And into things diurnal He breathed with lips supernal The breath of life eternal And made the poet's soul. [5] SUNSET LAND There lies a land beyond the sunset's gold, A land of fancies where all dreams come true, Where that is found for which the soul has cried: The hopes, the fond desires of ages old, The longing deep for all man never knew, The vague unrest, forever satisfied. Yon bright star, glittering on the saffron breast Of evening, brings to tortured hearts release: Here lies the goal toward which man aye has striven; Here is his heart's desire; his endless rest; His twilight home blessed with eternal peace; His fair ideal realized; his heaven. Here come the wounded loves with bruised wings; The faded flowers, so loved, so early blown; The radiant fancies of a youth grown gray; The moaning wave that of its sorrow sings; The sobbing wind that sighs in caverns lone; Red rays of morn; pearl lights of dying day. The vales are verdant with the balm of tears Shed by sad mortals; dewy twilight's breath Is soft with sighs yet none are heard to weep. Hushed is the clamor of Time's rolling years, Hushed broken hearts, and calmed all fears of Death, Cradled alike in an eternal sleep. [6] SUNSET Calmness of light in the west, Peace o'er the sea. Fog stealing soft o'er the breast Of the ocean; for weary ones, rest- Rest e'en for me! Peace after weariness, rest Rest long to be! Gold o'er the mountain's dark crest, Calmness of night in the west, Death o'er the sea. LOVE There is a river born on some far height, Some snow peak nearest heaven, roused by the breath Of Spring's awakening from its sleep of night; Out of the void of ice and snow and death It leaps, engulfing boulder, snag and rock, Strewing wild wrecks along its frenzied path; But soon the surging waters cease to mock, Through some dark glen it flows, now stilled its wrath; Silent it winds through fairy lands of dream, Refreshing weary flowers with dewy sleep; Now a gay brooklet, bright with crystal sheen; Now a wide river, peaceful, calm and deep, It rolls its waves toward dim Eternity To sweeten with its flood life's bitter sea. [8] ON READING ROSEGGER'S "WALDSCHUL- MEISTER" A giant mount dark hued against the sky, Rock ribbed and pine clad; rough with brier and cliff; Silvered with crystal streams of torrent foam; Surging with winds that sigh through forest boughs, Waking a thousand mystic harmonies; Purpled by twilight shades of dusky eve; Soaring aloft to meet night's patient stars; Girt with embattled cloudships of the air; Brow beaten by the tempest's mighty rage To such far heights as these men may aspire. Some, wearied by the steepness of the road, Turn them aside into a verdant glen; Some strive, and fall upon the stony way; Some may attain, but stricken by the cold Bleak desolateness of this lonely land, Fail in achievement. To a few great souls 'Tis given to rise above the solitude, The tempest's wrath, the bitter loneliness, And clear eyed, gaze across the wastes of Time To the vast ocean of Eternity. [9] TO EILEEN Thy brow is fairer than the purest snow; Thy cheek is rosier than the blush of morn; Thy hair is golden as the sunlight glow O'er glistening corn. Thy slender hands and feet are lily white; Violet and daisy in the verdant grass Wake at the fairy touch of footprint light To see thee pass. Thy breath is sweeter than the rippling sigh Of fragrant wind; like music from afar Steals thy soft voice; the radiance of thine eye Dims yon bright star. [10] TWILIGHT We spoke no word, nor did we look again At one another. Down yon purple steeps The glow of evening faded; from the deeps Uprose the sullen roaring of the main. A sudden wind swept o'er the misty plain, Then silence and the stars; and lo, a cry, Voiceless, as of a soul in agony, Rang through the stillness, while our hearts with pain Throbbed wildly through the darkness, as a clod Roused by Spring's life; then nothing. Though no word We spoke, nor looked again, we silent heard Through all our being ring the voice of God. "Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." Who knows not suffering has not learned to love. Nay, I mean not the common byword love, The jest of idle youth, the scorn of age; Not even the fiery passion of two souls Pledged each to each by oath for life or death; Not that unfathomable tenderness Of mother love that worships but its own; Not that clear eyed enduring faithfulness Of two strong hearts bound close by friendship's tie The truest, purest bond of human love Not these I mean. But something deeper far A love all comprehending, limitless, Checked by no barriers of time and space, Prompted by no self-interest, seeking naught Of recompense, but loving for love's sake Humanity for man's own sake alone; Filled with a wide o'erflowing sympathy Which ever understands and thus forgives; Not human, but a thing of source divine. [12] As we partake of it, so do we share That divine nature, shown but once to man In all its fulness; He whose love alone Raised Him above the level of the world, Exalted to the Godhead, yet whose name Remains the "Man of Sorrows"; by His death Saviour of men but not by death alone. Not in the torturing hours of Calvary But in the quiet streets of Nazareth Did He redeem man's sins with His life-blood, There, by His wide and all-embracing love, Bear in His soul the burden of the world. [13] BEETHOVEN (SUGGESTED BY LANG'S "ODYSSEY") As one that for an anguished spell hath made His home among the prison cells of men, Hath breathed the poisoned air of stagnant fen Where human souls in darkness long have stayed, Fearing to face the light toward which they strayed In agony of blindness, while the real, Base sordidness of life dimmed love's ideal, Which lame hands groping sought and dumb lips prayed As such an one were glad at twilight late To stand alone 'neath heaven's sublimity, So, from the modern masters' note of strife, Discord, and anguish, to a nobler life Men turn where thy deep tones reverberate Unto a chant of solemn majesty. [14] EPITAPH OF A NAMELESS HERO He wrought no art of sword or pen, Achieved no laurel, needs no stone To sing his praise; his work alone Lies writ in hearts of fellowmen. ON READING PATER'S "CHILD IN THE HOUSE' A fragrance sweet in the summer air Of a day remembered and half forgot, A cloud drift white in the dreamy blue And the breath of a June breeze mild A memory old in the scene so new, A homesick yearning for what is not, A desire regretful and half despair To be as a little child. [15] AT A CONCERT You could not reach across the trifling space That parted me from you, to touch my hand; Our hearts were strangers; you may never know How when your cry rang out across the gulf Of silences that lay between, my soul Thrilled out to yours in ecstasy of joy. Yet, though no word nor look between us passed. For one brief beat of time, our inward minds, Free as the very wind on mountain height, Not bound by iron fetters forged by men, Responded to the same eternal voice, Stirred with the selfsame passion, from this world, Exultant challenging the bonds of Self, Soared on light pinions upward to the blue, And were at one, resolving back again To that primeval Force, the Consciousness That animates all life, the very Source Of mind and matter that which lives and moves And breathes through all things. [16] "THE REST IS SILENCE" A tiny insect, blinded by the glare Of dazzling light that threw its circles wide O'er wall and ceiling, fluttering on frail wing, Uncertain, yet drawn on by some strange power Of fascination toward the burning globe, Whirred, swerved and whirred again, and then a sound Of something feathery fallen then a hush. So do we all, drawn by the larger hope Of greater brightness, beat our fragile wings Upon the iron prison walls of Space, So dimly lighted, holding still for true The faith that we shall one day reach the end Of our endeavor, in our frenzied whirl Of blindness, snatching at each feeble ray To find it but reflection, till at last, Weary, yet strong in desperation's might, We hurl ourselves into the blazing flame And fall in light or darkness, who can tell? "Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!" Intelligence supreme, a moral law Through all the workings of the universe, A love divine, a pity infinite, A fatherly compassion and tenderness, The God-mind infinite in finite man, So saith the Preacher so would we believe; Believe that, through the chaos and the strife, The bloody rapine of harsh Nature's laws, Who sows a thousand seeds that one may grow Unto perfection, maiming all the rest, One Will still works and watches o'er the world, Leading all life unto a noble end. Such is our faith. And yet, when one we love, One whose sweet life is dearer than our own, Is given the lesser part, denied the power To feel and love and know the soul's great truths, That right inalienable owed to man By his Creator, when we see this life Cast up a wreck upon the shoals of Time Before its trial, having never known The full deep seas beyond where others sail, Serving no nobler purpose than to rot Idly upon the sun-blanched waste of beach [18] Then we cry out in agony of soul Against this cruel scheme of workmanship, Which mars a thousand forms in shaping one, This Maker who, in moulding one fair soul, Rejects the others he had falsely made And casts them off to waste, denying e'en The joy which sacrifice and suffering bring. This still may be a Power unto an end, That end divine, through all a moral law, A high Intelligence but answer this, O thou eternal Justice, is this just? Father of men, is this the love of God? Is this His pity? Then, 'twas truly said It passeth knowledge! Oh, reveal Thyself! We would believe Thee, we must still believe That love is true and pity infinite, That these faint rays that flicker through the dark Are not delusion, lead us to that Light Which is the source of truth; do Thou forgive The blinded soul that cannot wait the dawn, And, since Thou'st fashioned doubt, forgive the heart That doubts Thy mercy when it needs Thee most! [19] TO THE WIND Free spirit of the sea and sky, Thou wanderer from the heaven's blue, Thou whose sweet breath doth life renew, At dawn of Spring hear thou my cry! I weary of the anguish rife, I faint amidst the vast world's strife, Free spirit of the sea and sky, Breathe through my soul the joy of life! Free spirit of the sky and sea, Thou wanderer from the ocean's brine, Thou sprite sea born beyond all Time, Thy boundless home, Infinity, My blind heart vainly craves the light, My captive soul strains toward yon height, Free spirit of the sky and sea Breathe through my soul vast Freedom's might! [20] SONG Were I a bird I would wing to thee, Were I the lark I would sing to thee, Were I a star I would shine for thee, Were I a lover I'd pine for thee. Were I the breeze I would blow for thee, Were I the rose I would grow for thee, Were I a wave I would break for thee, Were I a heart I would ache for thee. Were I the wind I would sigh for thee, Were I a hero I'd die for thee None of these gifts can I give to thee, Bid me, dear, only to live for thee! [21] DAWN I strayed alone through realms of night, And waiting hopeless for the dawn, I thought before the break of morn To see afar a beam of light And lo, the star I thought to rise, I found your eyes. I wandered through a sunless land Along the copper streaked sea That hurled itself in mastery Across life's barren waste of sand, And as I longed for Spring the while, I found your' smile. I gazed into the jaws of Hell And there I read that sin and shame Are life's true masters, and the name Of friendship false my idols fell, But when I fain would curse life's whole, I found your soul. [22] SUCH IS MY LOVE Unto what shall I liken my love? As the fragrant breath of the summer wind Bearing sweet from afar Scents of the pine and the infinite sea, Losing itself in a void more infinite still Such is my love. Unto what shall I liken my love? As the exquisite chord of a harmony rare Bringing home to the heart Memories and dreams of the great unfulfilled, Dying away in the mystic shadows of night Such is my love. Unto what shall I liken my love? As the golden beam of yon glimmering star, Constant and true, Lighting a way through the dark and the gloom, Piercing the cloud and defying the might of the storm Such is my love. Unto what shall I liken my love? As the roaring surge of the restless sea Beating wild on the shore, Yet concealing beneath its turbulent force Fathomless depths unknown, lying voiceless and still Such is my love. [23] ARIDNESS A rose she plucked of crimson hue And twined it in her golden hair. "A pretty flower" if she but knew The secret beauty lurking there! We gazed into the sunset's glow, My heart with untold yearning stirred; She gaily sang how should she know That silence deep that asks no word? Her girlish heart one day she brought In selfish confidence to mine And sought my aid nor ever thought Love might have made that heart divine! LIBERTY Ye Clouds that drift across the heavens' blue, Then hovering, fade into the infinite; Ye Streams that wind through canon, vale and glen, In ceaseless search of your eternal home, The throbbing heart of the engulfing Sea; Ye Mountains towering dark into the sky, Pointing the way toward which man's deepest thoughts And highest inspirations must aspire; Ye Stars that constant shine through gloom and cloud, Defying e'en the Storm King's mighty rage; Ye Winds, free spirits of the boundless heaven, Life breathing wanderers from a vaster world; Thou mighty Ocean, uncontrollable, Inexorable as adamantine Fate, Surging in passion o'er the puny wrecks Of man's endeavor strown along thy shores; Ye elements of earth and wind and wave That breathe of Freedom, hearken to my cry! Uplift this struggling soul that fain would soar On outstretched pinions to the infinite And trumpet forth to all the captive world Life's holiest cause divinest Liberty! [25] BEYOND Over the hill lies a vale of rest The dim blue hill with the piny crest, Towering dark in the crimson west. The breezes fill With a fragrance soft this valley fair, Bright flowers bloom sweet in the balmy air, And all that I love in the world lies there Over the hill. Over the hill is the joy of Spring, When the day is young and the robins sing, The peace that the hazy Summers bring, The Autumn still; But the hillside's stony and steep and bare, And the wintry blast I fear to dare Though all that I love in the world lie there Over the hill. Over the hill drifts an angel song I shall one day sing, though the way be long, Though my heart be weary that once beat strong, And as weak my will; Though my soul be burdened with weight of care, It glows with a hope that shall darken ne'er For all that I love in the world lies there Over the hill. [26] CECILY Her hair is dark, yet furtive rays of gold Play through her tresses, as the twilight gleam Steals through the slumbering branches dark and old Gilding the forest's dream. Her laughing voice is clear as song of Spring, Thrilling with all the joy of budding May, Yet sweet with all the sadness that doth sing In winds at close of day. Her starry eyes are bright as violets' hue, Yet in them shadows lurk, as when at even A sun-kissed cloud, in drifting o'er the blue, Darkens the peace of heaven. Her heart is whiter than the purest snow, Her soul all angel save that even here Her love shines human, as all flowers must blow Fairer for dewdrop's tear. [27] MEMORIES I cannot now recall The magic coloring of the dawn of day, Nor all the splendors that my childhood dreamed A dream now far away! But I can ne'er forget How, as I walked one day through forest glooms, Across my path a ray of sunlight streamed. Long since have I forgot The melody of an immortal song That thrilled my heart a moment and then died In silence deep and long. But I can still recall How all one autumn night there ceaseless rose The restless moaning of the ebbing tide. And I have soon forgot Rare works of beauty, genius, and of art, In which the artist, measuring life's great whole, Revealed the human heart [28] But I can still recall How, as I paused for lack of words, a friend Turned, looked, and in his eyes laid bare his soul. I cannot now recall Strong words of comfort or of counsel sage With which philosophers of every land Enrich life's every age. But I can ne'er forget How one day, as I dumbly hid my grief, You smiled through tears and gently pressed my hand. [29] SEA LONGING River that rollest so still past the towering walls of the city, Wild are the throngs on thy shores, thy banks ring loud with their laughter, Loud ring their strife and their cries, but under the deafening clamor Still can I hear thy voice with its message that men understand not, Their hearts being dulled by the din, not hearing thy moaning so restless, But tonight as I draw apart from the feverish unrest of the toilers, In thee have I found the expression of all that my heart fain would utter. Thou, e'en as I, art a pilgrim on earth, eternally seeking, Not knowing the purpose, direction, or goal of thy wanderings endless, Often with hope deferred and a heart that is weary of roaming, Still with unfaltering trust to reach the end of thy journey The sea! The sea with its gleaming flames of emerald and silver, [30] Blended with gold of the sun and sapphire sheen of the heavens The sea, with its wind tossed crests, and its glittering sparkle of diamonds Scattered afar o'er the ridges of waves with the shimmer of rainbow The sea, with its wild unrest, and its mad moods of fury and vengeance, Storming, and shifting, and sinking, the mirror of life's human passions The sea, with its weird lament, its voice eternally calling, Its harsh note of fate, and its endless song of unutterable music The sea, with its vast, calm strength, and its soul- engulfing oblivion! River that rollest so still past the towering walls of the city, And yet in thy floods concealest the longing that men understand not, Bear me along on thy waves to the shore where we fathom life's meaning, Losing our hearts in the heart of the vaster, the infinite Ocean! ON A PORTRAIT BY VAN DYCK A row of paintings from the artist's hand, But from them all stood out one single face There spoke the Master! All intent I stood And gazed into that face until I found Beneath the lifeless lines a living soul. Ethereal, pale, of contour delicate, Womanly beauty rather than man's strength Distinguished it; yet as the heavenly host Of angels, standing nearest to God's throne, Must in their smiles reflect the infinite love They contemplate, so was this lofty brow Illumined with a tenderness divine, As of a soul at peace, who found at last The mystic presence of the unseen world Grow to reality. Nor had he lost The human in attaining the divine, For suffering on those lips was eloquent, And all the longing of the unfulfilled Yearned in those eyes that gazed into my own With such a luminous pity that I knew That soul had fathomed all, and understood The throbbings of the world's great human heart. [3*1 FRIENDS Like a mosaic, rich in varied hue And form, yet with a unity that blends Into one perfect whole gems old and new Such is my world of friends. Each suited to his own peculiar part, The loss of one would make life incomplete; Each blossoms in the garden of my heart With differing fragrance sweet Each one a single need can satisfy, Through eyes of each a separate world I see, Yet all are bounden by the common tie Of human sympathy. E'en thus I mused one day a lonely while, Until your voice I heard, my hand you pressed- Then, worshipping the heaven in your smile, Lo, I forgot the rest! [33] STORM Loud shrieked the storm, and the blast of the wind in my face Smote with the pelting drops it had wrung from the heart of the cloud, Lowering dark o'er the brown of the winter swept plains. I rejoiced in the rush of the rain and the sting of the wind, Crackling, and whistling, and screeching through boughs of the stark, dead trees; And my heart exultant cried out to the strength of the storm, Defying its might to subdue the storm in my breast. Free is the blast of the wind, Free is the rush of the rain, Freedom in wings of the cloud, Freedom in strength of the storm Freedom e'en Fate to defy! Only man, with his lordlier mind, Man, with his brain to think, his will to command, Man, with his conscience to guide, his great human heart To struggle, and suffer, and love he alone is unfree! [34l What is life to the men who toil For some sordid, paltry end in their petty schemes, Who labor and sweat and despairing seek the relief Of the empty, meaningless pleasures the barren days bring, Dulling the soul's perception of holier joys What is life to these men But a vast eternal wheel, a remorseless machine Grinding to dust the pitiful wrecks of their souls? But they they know not the cost! They dream not the price they have paid, All the Heaven and the Hell they forego For the moment's oblivion. With a careless, pitiful grace They have flung their souls away, Nor ever counted the loss. And the rest? Ah, those are the hearts Whose fate craves the pitying tear! They have seen a light through the gloom, They have heard a song through the din; Bound in prison chains, they have felt The pulse of Liberty's heart; They have dreamed the dreams of the world; Cold in Death, the stirring of Life Has coursed through their veins, and their eyes. [35] Still blinded have sought for the dawn, Their dumb lips in agony prayed, And their hearts, still hungering for truth, Have striven, and anguished, and died For the dream they might never fulfill, For the beauty they might not express. Have the gods thus allotted man's fate Stagnation, oblivion, death, Or the mad, unending pursuit Of an ever elusive Ideal? To the topmost crest of a hill On the frenzied wings of the storm I was borne, my tempest-tossed brain And my captive, revolting soul A part of the chaos of strife Of the raging elements. At the topmost crest of the hill I paused with a lull in the blast And the whirl of my wind driven thoughts. O'er the ridge, where the hills meet the sky, The threatening martial host Of thundering war clouds broke, [36] And a stream of luminous white Shot out clear through the night blackened West And my soul that had struggled in vain With the baffling wrath of the storm, The world weight crushing it down, In an agonized ecstasy Felt the binding shackles burst For a moment's eternity Stood fearless, erect, alone, Face to face with the Infinite! Slowly the splendor died, The vision faded away, The bars of the prison fell, And indifferent life returned. [37] APART You call me friend, you touch my hand, Your eyes a thousand words would say, And yet I feel you far away, And know you will not understand. You think I blame you? Dearest, no! Should man regret that God has made The rose too perfect, or the shade Of lily purer than the snow? I struggled boldly for the truth, I spared no throe of heart or brain My quest was fruitless: none remain Of all the fleeting dreams of youth. You came a while I found release, A respite from my weariness In your sweet spirit's gentleness, Your hallowed, soul refreshing peace. But was this love? We cannot make Our lives what we would have them, dear, Or never had I known this fear My silence and your heart to break. [38] Your angel soul is all too white What should you know of my despair? Your eyes are heaven, your lips a prayer I struggle blindly for the light. You fain your sympathy would give; I long to tell you all my heart. But sin and tears have done their part And you have not begun to live! My agonies, why should you know, My ecstasies, my thirst for truth? Between us lie your radiant youth, Your innocence 'tis better so! Those heights and depths now all unknown I would not to your eyes reveal, Though at that cost I might unseal Your heart, and make your soul my own! I would not sacrifice your faith To any selfish will of mine: A man must worship the divine, E'en though that reverence mean his death. Of friendship have I given you much; Fain would I more, but your ideal [39] Is cold I thirst for all the real, I hunger for the human touch. I crave the suffering, the strife, The rapture of the world's great whole; Some day one great enough in soul May come to share your spirit life. The truth is out; past the dull ache Of self-deceit; in your dear eyes A wistful, childlike pathos lies At sight of it my heart could break. 'Tis cruel to leave you all alone? Ah, dear, there is no other way! You'll understand some future day The misery we might have known. And understanding all the pain With which my soul is scarred, may ask God's pity on the endless task For which He did my life ordain. [40] SANDMAN'S LAND The sandman is both old and wise, He creeps in at the door And shakes his sand grains in my eyes, While playing on the floor. Then I forget my boats and farms, My ball and soldiers red, And Nursie takes me in her arms And carries me to bed. I know that he must be alive, I try 'most every night To see him when he comes at five, But yet I haven't quite. He brings with him two little boys, Their names are Sleep and Dream; I'd love to show them all my toys How funny it would seem! But they take me with them instead, When Nurse puts out the light And tucks me all alone in bed, So comfy, warm and white. She thinks that I go fast asleep When she has heard my prayers. How scared she'd be if she should peep And find I'd gone downstairs With those two boys the Sandman brings, And out into the night, Where near the moon an angel sings All dressed in silver bright. The angel has a golden key That opens Sandman's Land Where all good little boys like me Build castles in the sand, And bake mud pies, and have their fun With no one there to say "Run home and wash your hands, my son, You must be tired of play." The trees are made of pep'mint stick, And lemonade's the stream (The kind that never makes one sick), The flowers are all ice cream. A pretty lady there we meet With hair all shiny gold; Her mouth is full of kisses sweet, She doesn't ever scold. [42] She loves to play with us her dress Is never far too fine; She never says we make a mess, Or that we pout and whine. She lets me be the grizzly bear And never minds the noise; She tells us stories, and takes care Of all our broken toys. And here in Sandman's Land we stay Until for Nursie's sake I have to run back home and play That I'm but just awake! TO KATHERINE When first God framed the garden of the world, He made the rose and lily all so fair That many love His glowing flowers dew pearled, Yet few may find His spirit hidden there. When first God framed the garden of your soul, He made your heart so fair, so free from sin, All love you, dear a few may read the whole, The depths of tenderness that lie within. [43] WORDSWORTH (AFTER READING "TINTERN ABBEY.") Thou worshipper of Nature, thou the chief Of all the immortals kneeling at her shrine, Thou who didst comprehend her mind and heart In all its fullness, thou unto the end Her lover and her priest, interpreter Of mysteries too sacred for the eyes Of those unseeing throngs outside the veil Thy work long since is ended, thy true heart Absorbed in those primeval elements, The vast, unfathomable Infinite Whence it emerged, a light athwart the gloom Of cold indifference and unfeeling doubt. Yet though thy task is done, and thou are passed Into that greater void we may not know, Still Nature, even in death, hath not betrayed The heart that loved her for thy very soul Is entered in a sense still more sublime Into her essence, and thy spirit breathes Through all her fragrant flowers, and through the hush Of murmuring streams, and through the song of birds, And through the streaming light of setting suns, And through the hallowed calm of eventide Purpling the wooded mountain and the plain With starry silence of engulfing peace. And they who feel the beauty that doth lurk Beneath the fairy grace of trembling flower, Who hear the deeper music that doth lie Dumbly eternal in the joyous song Of birds, or in the wilder sea's lament These feel thy spirit dwelling with them still, And know the beauties thou in love expressed Fairer for thy love's sake, and Nature's joys Made nobler by thine own nobility. PREMONITION Yes, I know it is Winter still That the trees are brown and the skies are gray, And the snow lies white o'er the western hill, That the stars are dim, and the cold night long, That the brook is dumb, and the sweet bird song Is fled to the Southland far away And yet in my heart the sudden thrill Of music that over the years doth ring And my eyes with a mist of yearning fill The voice of the coming Spring! [45] SONG What light may e'er relieve the gloom Through which men blindly grope? I looked into your eyes, my sweet, And found that light was Hope. What power of men or e'en of gods May rend the bonds of death? I looked into your heart, my sweet, And felt that power was Faith. What truth may lift our sordid lives From earth to heaven above? I looked into your soul, my sweet, And knew that truth was Love. [46] DEATH IN LIFE If, while your love were still my very own, Cold Death had laid his hand upon your heart, I would have bowed my head and made no moan, Scorning a power too weak our souls to part. I would have longed for voice and lips and hands, Yet with the wandering night winds from the sea, Our souls had still embraced in mystic lands Known only to Love's holy sympathy. Such sacred grief were blessedness. . . . Tonight Mine is the anguish of a different lot: To know your lips as sweet, your eyes as bright, And, searching for your soul to find it not! [47] LIFE'S PURPOSE "Pis not with tongues of angels I would speak, Nor knowledge wide, to comprehend life's whole, I crave, nor faith inviolate I seek: Are such ends worth my agony of soul? I ask not even the relief of art To voice my yearning for the great unknown; 'Tis not for me to claim so great a part Glad will I work in silence and alone. This one thing, and this only I demand: That all my suffering be not spent in vain. Out of my anguish let me stretch the hand That may have power to ease another's pain. Grant me the strength to bear another's weight Of grief; the faith to calm another's fears; The sympathy that makes man's varied fate Its own, and shares all human joys and tears. [48] ISOLATION When I was but a child and knew not pain, One day you clasped me closely to your breast 3 And on my cheek your lips convulsive pressed, While o'er my face the hot tears fell like rain. That hour was long ago. Then why today When years have given me my rightful part In the soul's sorrow, do you close your heart To love, and smiling, turn your face away? [49] THE NATURE LOVER Say not that you know the hills, You who have seen from afar The wavering purple line With the blue horizon blend Your thoughts ever earthward bend; A loftier joy is mine: I have lain 'neath the giant pine, I have watched the evening star Sink low o'er the mountain height, While the soft mists wrap from sight The plain in their snowy fleece, Till the ache of daylight cease In Night's all-enfolding peace. You who love the calm that stills, The joy that with rapture thrills You alone have known the hills! Say not that you know the wood, You who have walked through its shade With your hearts in the world away, And no thought for the flower at your feet- I, out of the blazing heat Of the scorching noontide's ray, Worn with the toil of day, Into forest glooms have strayed; [50] The earth has drawn me to rest Like a tired child on her breast, Till the birds and the whispering stream And the singing silence seem A part of my slumbering dream. You who love the calmer good, Who have felt that deep heart brood You alone have known the wood! Say not that you know the sea, You who have strolled on the shore And have watched the green waves creep Up the golden line of sand Your love is born of the land, But mine is the soul of the deep Where the white-maned billows leap And the swirling whirlpools roar; Where the arched waves kiss the sky, And the spray-winged seagull's cry Rises shrill o'er the deeper tone Of the ceaseless, sobbing moan Of a breaking heart you alone Who have felt its ecstasy, Who have shared its agony You alone have known the sea! ABSENCE Tonight I cannot see your eyes Smile sweet into my own; The last faint ray of daylight dies, I sit in dark alone. Yet through yon stars that brightly shine I know your heart is seeking mine. Tonight I cannot hear your call Across the deadening years That rise between a giant wall That yields not to my tears. Yet in the sobbing of the sea I know your spirit speaks to me. Tonight I may not feel the touch Of clinging finger tips; Tonight my heart yearns overmuch With hungering for your lips; Yet love may bid time backward roll This hour I clasp you soul to soul. [52] TO DICKY One day when I had all my dreams forgot, And thought to fail from very weariness Of cold, blank disillusion, in your eyes I read the answer to my questioning thought, And knew that purity is holiness Which in the face of dreaming children lies. And so for one brief hour your trusting hand You laid in mine, and led me far away From earth's dull cares into the freedom clear Of your boy's world where life is fairyland, And poetry truth, and every child heart gay, And white-winged angels hovering ever near. Only a single hour so long ago, You have forgot. I, who remember still, Pray unto Him who bade the children come, That many years may pass ere you shall know How dreary are the barren truths that fill The wastes that lie beyond your dreamland home. And when at last the rosy gates must close, And you pass out with bravely eager feet To play in the vast world your own great part In dreams' fulfillment in the bitter throes Of disappointment, may God's message sweet Lie writ for you in some child's trusting heart. [53] EXILE I think perchance if I might hear once more The sobbing surge upon a distant bar, The thundering surf upon a well-loved shore, That I might then perceive The music hidden 'neath the deafening jar Of jangling din for him that will believe. I think perchance if I might once more gaze On steel-gray blue of twilight o'er the sea, Or purple mountains' mellow evening haze, That once again would shine 'Neath life's dull tints a richer harmony, And through the blinding glare a gleam divine. I think perchance if I might look again Into those eyes I loved long years ago, I might not dream the quest of beauty vain, But I at last would feel That through earth's common forms must ever flow Some glory from the heart of the Ideal. [54] AT DUSK Through the warm light of hazy summer eves, How long have we sat dreaming, you and I, The splendor streaming from the western sky, The sea wind sighing through the slumbering leaves. Bright in our eyes the fading glory burned, Chill in our hearts unfathomed sorrow stirred As twilight slowly died we spoke no word, But in the silent dusk our whole heart yearned. Dusk deepened into night then in your eyes There dawned the great calm of a soul at rest In worlds beyond all thought, as o'er the crest Of yonder hill we watched the bright stars rise. E'en so, beloved, we see the fading light Of golden dreams our child heart found so fair Vanish, despite regret and wild despair And futile hope, into the darkening night. Yet, could we gaze into the heavens above, The dark, vast stretches of the Infinite, Would we not find that void of blackness lit With stars of calmer thought and deeper love? [55] SPRING SONG Spring is here! The sky lark trills his message clear Let earth rejoice! While brooks and birds and fresh winds gay Sing out the gladness of the May ***** Beloved, what is Spring without thy voice? Spring is here! The May flowers smile through April's tear Where bright dew lies On spangled pansy, mignonette, White lily, glowing violet ***** Beloved, what is Spring without thine eyes? Spring is here! The buzzing bee on gauze wing sheer Sweet honey sips. Winds fragrant breathe of flowering lands, Blue sea waves kiss the gleaming sands ***** Beloved, what is Spring without thy lips? [56] TO THE SKEPTIC No fairies, you say? Who wake the flowers at the break of day? Whose voices sing in the passing breeze? What spirits sigh in the whispering trees? Who strew the sea with its rainbow foam? Who talk with the birds in their forest home? Who light the stars in the heavens at night, And the tiny lamps for the fireflies bright? Who ride on the white moon's glistening beams Bringing the little children dreams? No angels, you say? Whose song do we hear at the close of day When the earth is hushed in the twilight still And the sky bends low o'er the western hill? Who veil the blue with their cloud wings light And wrap the earth in its snow shroud white? Who draw the souls of the flowers to rest In the twilight land of the gleaming west? Who rise to the heights by men untrod Bearing the children's prayers to God? [57] BUTTERFLIES Scarlet, and purple winged, and gold, Light, rainbow tinted sprites of poesy, Flitting from flower to flower, Gladdening the eye with glow of radiant Spring, Delighting every heart That love of color and of song doth hold, With rhythmic whir of fairy feathered wing Ephemeral nothings of an hour Have you no sacred part In Nature's universal harmony? Light, laughing souls of fairy birth, Glowing with love of life and joy of youth, Gliding from day to day Unconscious of the burden others bear, Knowing no nobler art Than that of smiling on the tear-stained earth With radiant eyes undimmed by darkening care, Exquisite flower souls of May, Have you no sacred part In Life's vast realm of beauty and of truth? . [58] ASHTORETH Night only, Night fevered with dim unrest Of the dull Earth, worn with the toil of day; Silence profound and fearful, as the lull Of threatening calm ere the onrushing storm, Silence of thousand inarticulate sounds, Voiceless, yet making silence audible; Darkness intense, save where one pale spot glows On yon black hilltop where the waning moon Leans weary on her couch of saffron cloud. Rich perfumed flowers embalm the midnight air With subtle scent of hyacinth and rose Exhaling souls of fragrance to the stars, And soft winged winds caressing brush my cheek. Blank, soulless solitude, save where two forms Stand close in the shadow, save where two hearts 'throb Wild in the stifling gloom God! I and thou! No other sound save of thy fluttering breath Fanning my face in gasps; no other light Save the divine gleam thrilling in thine eyes; No other touch save of thy flower hand That trembles lily-like against my own No hour save this of all eternity For thee and me one hour, our hour alone! [59] Ah, God! Can this be sin, this maddening joy Of thy wild heart-beats close against my breast, This rending tumult of fierce ecstasy With which I drink oblivion in thine eyes While time, space, Hell and Heaven drop away As our two souls, indissolubly one, Soar starward at the meeting of our lips? ***** Hark! Like the tortured moan of some damned soul The hollow wail of the reechoing tide Sobs through the silence, and thy hand is cold That trembling burned upon my fevered palm, Thy lips are white and distant, and thy soul I search it vainly in the blinding dark. The hour is past; earth and its hell return Nay, not e'en hell that hope the gods deny! There I had known the memory of thy face. Now that, too, fades, and o'er my soul doth surge. An engulfing flood of isolation grim, A sea illimitable, infinite, Sweeping o'er life's drear wrecks and treasures fair, And swallowing all alike in the abyss, While man, who thought to merge his own life stream In that of others, finds his puny strength Bowed by relentless fate, and learns at last His utter and eternal loneliness. [60] SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW How do I know the fulness of your woe? Dear, for remembrance of those other hours Of summer sunshine and of glowing flowers We laughed together in the long ago. How may I know the fulness of your joy? Dear, for the memory of those other years When died our dream, Illusion's empty toy, At touch of stark-eyed grief that knew not tears. [61] REVELATION A moment since my life was all bare prose, Saved only from a baser sordidness By that light, careless laughter, with which men Oft seek to grace earth's dreary commonplace, And think to hide their poverty of soul. You mocked with me, and hid your hungering want 'Neath subtle sallies of a keenedged wit, That I with merry jest returned, nor dreamed How the gods laughed at our masked comedy. Then, as the soft, still magic of Night's peace Began to shame the mockery of our hearts Aching with too much merriment, the mask Slipped from your soul, and as I saw the pain That throbbed within your eyes, and heard your voice In tense, strained tones, the feverish laughter died, Frozen with horror on my jesting lips, And, gazing awed and humbled on those depths My shallow selfishness had so profaned, My kneeling soul cried out to yours, "Forgive!" And in one glance whose joy seemed keenest pain, I read the values of our lives anew, Heard the eternal harmony ring clear, And felt the perfect poetry of your love. [62] FROM A WINDOW The jeweled hills lie silent 'neath the stars, Spangled with fairy gems; the city sleeps, A glittering constellation on the rim Of the still waters silvered bright with bars Of moonbeams mirrored in translucent deeps, Where melting ghost lights blend with shadows dim. Peace on all earth peace with the calm of Death In cloud dreams drifting o'er the hills' dark crest, In moonkissed flowers, in sigh of sea born air; Alone the ocean draws its anguished breath Great sobbing heart whose longing knows no rest, My yearning soul has found her echo there! [63] TWO PRAYERS One day in sudden anguish of despair Born of vain hungering for a dim ideal, From lips long mute was wrung the tortured prayer For strength of will my vision to reveal. But even ere the ringing words had died, I laughed in scorn to play so low a part, And while my lips still prayed, my soul denied, Knowing no God so great as mine own heart. And proudly cried no force might e'er control That destiny which I alone decreed By strength of individual mind and soul Which knows no higher power, nor feels its need. Such was my faith until I sought to bless Your heart, and make your life a thing divine; Then once again I knelt in humbleness To pray before my long forgotten shrine, And knew that though for me the heavens were bare, For you, dear heart, must dwell in worlds above Some purer spirit soul to hear my prayer, Since none but God were worthy of your love. [64] MOODS Ask not, dearest, how I love thee Could the sky lark half express Ecstasies of happiness, Surging ever clear and strong Through melodious maze of song, Swelling heavenward endlessly Thou wouldst know 'tis joy to love thee. Ask not, dearest, how I love thee Could the dew-kissed flowers that turn Patient eyes to heaven and yearn For the dawning sun to give Light and strength by which they live Voice their -prayer more trustfully Thou wouldst know 'tis faith to love thee. Ask not, dearest, how I love thee Could the ocean's moan confess All the bitter loneliness, All the agonies that roll O'er that restless, surging soul Grasping at infinity Thou wouldst know 'tis grief to love thee. [65] Ask not, dearest, how I love thee Could the south wind's soft caress Half reveal its tenderness; Could yon stars that tranquil shine Breathe to men their truth divine, Strength and self-sufficiency Thou wouldst know 'tis peace to love thee. MAN Calm on the threshold of a million worlds, Alone and self-sufficient, firm he stands And clear eyed gazes through the blinding maze Of rapine wrought by Nature's bloody hands. To him alone is given the power to hear, 'Neath jarring din, the Master's harmony; He only acts and questions, thinks and dares, And through the finite, grasps infinity. [66] SOLITUDE Three solitudes of soul: one, ecstasy Gift of a few great minds who stand alone On the vast threshold of eternity And know themselves immortal, as the sun, Scorning the winds and waters tempest-blown, Knowing his soul and that of God at one, Pours out his heart to all infinity. Three solitudes: the second born of change, Common to all men, as th' inconstant moon Must ever wander through the heavens' wide range Of glittering constellations numberless, Nor ever find, though singing winds may croon Of love, and sighing waves the shores caress, A friendly heart, or eyes that look not strange. Three solitudes: the third an agony Of loneliness that only he may know Who in the silent deeps of ecstasy Leans yearningly on some beloved heart, Yet feels a boundless sea between them flow, Wide as the endless leagues of space that part The closely shining stars eternally. SEA FOG Spirit of mist, soul of the infinite sea, Pearl hued with rainbow tints from the foam of the deep, Borne by the wide, free winds o'er the emerald ocean, Clouding the blue horizon with shadows of gray, Wrapping the sun crowned hills in a mantle of purple Bordered with flames of gold from the gleaming West, Shrouding from cold the weary heart of the lowland, Stretching o'er valley the unfurled wings of compassion, Stooping in tender caress o'er the crest of the mountain, Breathing the blessing and balm of an infinite silence E'en so my thoughts, soul of an infinite love, Tinted with opalescent hues of the rainbow Radiant fancies of rose, and joy that is golden, Violet regret, and the gray of unutterable sadness, Mother-of-pearl, the peace and hope of the angels Winged with the winds that sweep o'er the soul's wide ocean, Stretch through the mist of the years and the tear- dimmed darkness, Folding the heights and the depths of your soul in a pity Voiceless and vast as the sea of our love's deep silence. [68] THE CALL OF THE SEA The sun-blanched, arid waste of desert sand Stretches in sullen silence to the rim Of the horizon, where the barren coast Melts into purple nothingness; the sea, A creeping, fawning monster, cringing crawls, In gnawing hunger foaming out its life On the dull sands that hide the shattered bulk Of a proud vessel, hurled by tropic storm To welter in the blaze of glaring beach. Long, burning years her stately prow has lain Prostrated on the shore, till pitying winds That once had softly swelled her shining sails, Strewed o'er the lifeless wreck a pall of sands To hide her shame from the all-searching eye Of the proud sun, and from the sea's disdain, And from the merciless wrath of driving storm That sought to desecrate her lowly grave. Silent she lies there, humbled in the sands And yet, a restless spirit stirs and broods As if a wandering soul still yearned for peace, Driven by fate upon an alien shore, Yet ever longing to regain its own. And now the fading flower of golden day Dies in the cloudless splendor of the West When suddenly a giant inky hand Crumples the last rose petal in its grasp, [69] Withering its fading loveliness, while night Dims the horizon with her veil of smoke, Doubling the distance, and the inky hand Rushes o'er heaven, wiping out the stars. The bleak sands shiver at the shuddering cry Of the hoarse ocean, and a flood of fire Flames through the heavens, followed by the crash Of thundering armies and of battling winds Warring with all the raging elements. Once more the black-hued pit of night is riven With shafts of lightning, and the ravening sea Tears the firm sands asunder, and unearths The groaning carcass of that shattered wreck Lying so stark and white with throbbing fear Beyond the eager reach of the wild surf. Only a moment longer lies she there The next, she hears the sea's resistless call, The mocking waves loose the cold bonds of years And whirl her forth, a giddy, staggering thing, To plunge in one last maddening ecstasy, One wild, delirious second of fierce joy, With the old freedom, through the blinding surge Of hissing salt, and stinging, shrieking blast. ***** A moment later, and the sea's strong arms Have drawn her down, down in a close embrace To rest forever on that mighty heart. THE MATILIJA POPPY The garden blossoms with a thousand hues Of varied flowers: tender mignonette, Tall, flaming cannas, and proud hollyhocks, Amber, and rose, and purple; heliotrope Scenting the fragrant honeysuckle's breath With rarer sweetness; ivy scarlet-tongued Crowning the lustre of the gleaming oak; Feathery acacia, star-eyed marguerites, And spangled pansies laughing with the sun At wind blown petals of the crimson rose. Yet calm amidst this wealth of radiant bloom Glowing with joy of life thou stand'st alone, Gleaming in regal white. An alien soul, Too proud to heed the breath of passing breeze And fling thy heart's full fragrance to the winds; Too coldly passionate to share the joy Of roses blushing 'neath the sun's caress; Too scornful even to bend thy weary head Beneath the scorching heat of noontide's ray, Thou lean'st in glistening pallor 'gainst the wall Of cool gray stone, disdainful of the power That withers other souls less frail than thou Those souls from whom thy very purity Doth isolate thee ever, though thy heart Yearn vainly in its hopeless solitude For one pure spirit it may claim its own. * * * * * Only on calm nights when the crooning sea Hath hushed the earth to rest in its embrace, When silver moonbeams kiss the dewy eyes Of dreaming roses cradled in soft airs, When sea winds steal through darkened boughs and wake A thousand mystic harmonies that rouse Vain love and old desire and wild unrest Then, from the shadowed silence of the pines, Sleepless alone among the slumbering flowers, Thy crystal soul doth raise expectant eyes, Fearlessly bright with holier ecstasy, And breathe her anguished yearning to the stars. [72] RESURRECTION Long had he labored through the weary day, Only to turn at twilight hopeless eyes Upon the polished form of gleaming stone The proud conception of a giant brain Perfected with the skill of highest Art. Yet baffled now he stood, while o'er his soul Waves of unutterable emotion surged, As all the pent-up longings of his life, The striving toward elusive, dim ideals, The craving to express unfathomed truths And voice the yearning hope of all the world Clutched at his heart in anguished ecstasy And cried for utterance. But the figure stood Serenely still, in calm tranquillity Of crystal white a form without a soul. Then, gazing on his failure leaden-eyed, The sculptor flung aside his useless tools, And, huddled on the floor in mute despair, Blank weariness o'ercame him, and he slept. He waked to find the darkened, barren room Brilliant with moonlight, and his struggling heart Soothed with a strange, deep peace; his weary brain Strong in the sense of bold creative power. Then leaping up he seized his tools again, And with a genius-born facility [73] Chiseled the anguish of his heart's despair In gleaming marble, waxen 'neath his touch. Long hours he worked in frenzied, feverish haste, Till, as the walls grew rosy hued with dawn, The statue stood in glistening harmony Beauty of soul expressed in perfect form. But now the agile hands grew numb with cold, And o'er his face a ghastly pallor spread, His limbs turned marble with rigidity, And in his lustrous eyes the glassy stare Of grim Death gazing into formless void Effaced the glow of genius and of life. Centuries rolled away, till even his name Died in the clutch of the relentless years. Yet Time, whose adamantine hand can blot So many hopes, so many fears and loves From man's frail memory, awestruck bowed her head Before the grandeur of this harmony Of simple beauty and gigantic thought. Now, far in alien lands the statue stood, "A Grecian Runner," famed in halls that held The fairest fragments of Hellenic art. And here the rude crowd often stood agape, Some idly staring, some indifferent, Some wondering at the grace of curve and line, Some at the purity of tone, and some, Who searched more deeply than the common eye [74] And felt a broader, keener sympathy With hopes and dreams' illusions and despair Greater than their small hearts might ever know, Pitied the mute appeal in those grave eyes, And gazing at the sad, expectant face That left them fearful and unsatisfied, Reverenced the soul they might not understand. Thus through the weary years the Greek youth stood, Crouched low with nerves astrain, as one who waits In hushed and eager-eyed expectancy For some miraculous deliverance. It came at last One summer afternoon When the long twilight streaked the floors with gold, And all without lay white in throbbing heat, Across the vibrant hush of marbled space There rang the sound of footsteps, as alone A solitary artist chanced to stray Into the dim lit corridor, and stand Leaning against the column opposite In self-absorbed reflection. Suddenly The sense of some disturbing element Jarred the calm silence the compelling dread Of some mysterious external force Gripped at his heart, and though the solitude Remained unbroken, yet his trembling soul Thrilled with the consciousness of vital power Of some invisible presence. Then it was [75] His wild eyes roving in dumb inquiry Caught the rapt gaze of the inspired Greek: Alert and poised, his every nerve drawn tense, The marble limbs suffused with glow of youth, The sightless eyes gleamed with a strange lost light, And as his being glowed with conscious power, The struggling soul, imprisoned in the stone, Yearning in vain through all the countless years For self-expression, realized its hope In flash of recognition, as once more It thrilled, and stirred, and breathed a living thing! [76] NOON IN THE SIERRA I Noon floods the world with golden quivering light, Long heat waves whiten o'er the burning plain, And parched winds listless droop their trembling wings Fainting from very weariness of life. No sound, no motion other than the heat Throbbing across the silence of the pines That sunward soar, erect and shadowless. A wavering, liquid sea of molten haze Purples the melting curves of phantom hills, Ethereal ships afloat 'twixt earth and heaven. Above the hush of this enchanted land, A lustrous pearl set in the sapphire sky, Gleams lofty, silent Shasta, glacier crowned. Veiling the mountain crest the pallid clouds, Wan with their wanderings through the heat of noon, Furl wearily their wings and patient rest, Drawn to that tender heart in mute embrace For one long moment, while the hurrying hours Hang breathlessly suspended, till the winds In gentle sadness bear the cloud souls forth Dying, to fade into the Infinite. I, e'en as they, feel the strong hand of Time Checked in its course, 'as though great Nature's heart Had ceased to pulse, and every moment's gold, Hushed by the soothing spirit of thy peace, Stretched to a fathomless eternity. [77] II Now, gazing northward through a mist of dreams, I seem to see a Grecian temple rise Fair as the white foamed marble that once crowned The fairy aisles that star th' JEgean's blue. I see the white robed priests that reverent kneel, The smoke arising from the sacrifice, The cloud winged incense rolling heavenward, The adoration and the solemn hush Of those who stand before the oracle Waiting the god's dread answer. But no sound Disturbs the mystic, sacred solitude That hallows this fair temple. Yet to those Whose fevered hearts reach out through wastes of years, And hunger for the lost ideals of Greece, Thy single purity of line and tone, Thy simple grandeur and thy lofty strength, Thy smiling calm, thy still serenity, Breathe silent words of comfort and of hope. Ill Slowly the vision fades, till even sight Is blinded in the golden glare of noon. And now the phantom mountain seems to stir With vibrant sound, as swelling harmonies, Sonorous chords of long forgotten worlds, [78] Peal through the voiceless stretches of the pines. Calm with a faith beyond all reach of doubt, Pure with a joy beyond all fear of pain, Deeper than man's sublimest thought of love, The ringing tones of the triumphal chant Reecho* through the vastness of the hills. IV And now the music dies, lost in the void Of all-engulfing Silence, fathomless. Light fades, sound vanishes, the earth dissolves, And conscious being ceases, as the soul, Absorbed in the primeval giant force Of the vast mountain, soars through boundless space Into the freedom of the Infinite. [79] SUNRISE OVER SHASTA Once only have I stood at the world's rim Where Night and Morning meet, and watched the Dawn Ride over Darkness. . . . Far below, the hills Dropped into purple blackness, as the moon That once had silvered pine and river foam, Wearily wan, paled with the paling stars, Bright opals fading in the amber east, And hid her face in veil of pearl-winged cloud. Star-fingered Silence held the slumbering world In solemn stillness, and the forest harps Responsive to the touch of wandering winds With strains of wild, mysterious harmony, Grandly majestic, whispering wistfully, Lay hushed and voiceless as the wonted call Of dreaming song birds; through the silent dark One sound alone made silence yet more deep: As organ tones, vibrating through the hush Of saints' communion, fill the reverent heart With deeper solitude and mystery, So now through canons dim and fathomless The music of the emerald-foamed McCloud, Glimmering faint athwart the sombre pines, Sang through the lonely silence of the hills. Far to the north, a sea of billowy mist, Tinged with the violet light of brightening dawn, Stretched o'er the formless void of ridge and cliff And wide expanse of plain, to veil the eyes Of dark cowled worshippers that reverent knelt At the proud mountain's foot, lest they should see The great transfiguration, and profane The heavenly vision hid from human sight. Above the purple-shadowed waves of mist, Strong with the calm of conquered agony, Scarred with an anguish deep beyond all tears, Sky towering in majestic solitude, Serenely silent with the peace of Death, Eternal Shasta, humanly sublime, Soaring through darkness, fearless faced the dawn. Then as I gazed across that sea of space, The spirit mountain stirred with quivering sigh, The snow-crowned summit flushed with rosy glow, A tongue of fire flamed down the eastern ridge, Flashed westward, lightning-pronged, and ringed the peak With circling diamonds, till the glacial heart Of the old crater burned anew with life, As all the pent-up passion of the years, The smouldering hope, the silent agony, [81] The wild regret of youth, the mute despair, Burst into one fierce flood of blinding fire. Then, standing spellbound on the mountain rim, I saw invisible spirits silent part The luminous veil that lay across the night, And watched the tall Crags crimson with the dawn. But as the daybreak tinged the hills with gold, Proud Shasta, calm in crystal purity, Gleamed isolate as in the noonday sun. [82] IN AN ART GALLERY Here fades the glaring light of garish day, The deafening tumult of the sordid mart, The weariness of all the wrinkled world, And, straying through these hallowed corridors, I breathe the fragrance of a purer life, And walk with gods and heroes . . . Lone and proud Stands bold Achilles, gripping firm his shield, As he would breathe defiance e'en of Jove. And here another glorious champion, Who wrested Athens from the Tyrant's clutch, Aristogeiton, with his giant arm Outstretched in mute appeal, and in his eyes The glowing rapture of a god's great strength, The shining tenderness of suffering man. II Soft from the shadow steals a nymph, with eyes Translucent as the deeps of emerald pool Where she disports amongst the shimmering rays Of sunlight filtering through the forest leaves In mystic glades, where mingling light and shade Blend in eternal twilight. On this bank, Worn with the very joy of fulsome life, [83] A sleeping faun has flung himself to rest. How quietly he breathes! What dreamless joy! And on the careless brow what innocence Of toiling, haggard man's morality! Tread lightly lest he wake in sudden fright At contact of a presence so profane, And vanish in the stillness of the wood. Ill Onward I pass, and now the golden dusk Reverently veils in pitying tenderness The shattered, crumbling bulk of ruined walls, And ashen wreck of temples hoar and old, Fair fragments of a lost antiquity. And yet not lost! For through the marble breathes The soul of ancient Greece, and every line Dreams an ideal perfection, every tone Weaves through the crumbling whole a harmony, As waves of varying, chaotic sound Blend in the music of a perfect note. Thus, through the maze of this discordant wreck, The artist sees the form complete, divine, And in the marred ideal, the human heart Reads the fulfillment of its dearest hope, The revelation of its highest truth That Beauty rails at Death, and knows no dread Of Time, the great Destroyer, for her life [84] Depends not on the outward, transient form Through which her spirit breathes: a ray of light, Kindling the fancy, dwells within the brain, Gilding each object that the eye beholds, Though lost in blackest night; a solemn tone Of music, echoing all along the heart, Sings, though dissolved in silence; and the hush That follows prayer is pregnant with the cries Of longing souls that, still unsatisfied, Yearn toward the Infinite. E'en so the soul Of Beauty must transcend th j external mould In which 'tis cast, and, varying ceaselessly, Through endless forms shall rise to vaster heights Beyond the touch of Time, or Pain, or Death, Greater than Art, surviving its decay, And breathing through the shattered wreck of years The glorious hope of immortality. IV Lo, through the shadowed arches of the hall, I see the white robed Cariatydes, Their trailing vestments purpled in the flush Of crimson sunset jewelling the dome. And now the shadows fade and all the world Golden with noonday calls me as I stand High on the art adorned Acropolis Crowning all Greece with glory. Far below [85] Lies white roofed Athens, glimmering as a pearl Ringed with the diamond sparkle of the surf Where sands of gold and sea of amethyst Mingle together. To the north the hills Green with the mystic gray of olive leaves Silvering before the wind, melt far away Into the sapphire of a cloudless sky. Close at my side rise proud Olympian forms, Before whose glance I bow my head in awe Not of the gods' but man's divinity, Who can create himself gods so divine. And here the clear eyed Cariatydes So still ah, still as everlasting Death, Gaze through the silent haze of golden noon. What may that constant clear eyed gaze beheld? The rosy flush of morn that fires the east With flames of crimson over Asia's coast, Streaking the purple sea with bands of gold, And gilding crystal Delos, the dread isle That holds Apollo's sacred oracle? The southern waves that kiss Cythera's shores, Where foam-bespangled Aphrodite rose Out of the sea with beauty of the gods? The Herculean Pillars of the west That front the sunset, far beyond the sight [86] Of mortal man in distant Sicily? Yea, all of this yet infinitely more! For in that clear eyed gaze I seem to see The eyes of Fate that pierce through wastes of years Unpitying, remorseless, yet serene, Calm in serenity that knows not fear, Nor hate nor love, nor hope nor vain despair, Nor justice for such passions are of men The great gods' hearts are sealed and feel them not. So ye, too, stand, and gaze across the world With wide, grave eyes that neither smile nor weep, Discerning joy and grief, laughter and tears, Justice and wrong, great Good and greater 111, And Life and Death immutably as one, And all things bounded by Eternity. NECESSITY The gay trees sing: "The Spring! the Spring! With her flowers that fling Their souls to the sky! And the golden gleam Of the sunlight's beam In the dancing stream Where the shadows lie!" * * * * But the songs that wing Where the wide woods ring, Were born of the whisp'ring wind's soft sigh. The gaunt trees groan: "Alone, alone, We sob and moan For the summer past, For our golden crown Of leaves whirled down, For the furrowed frown Of the skies aghast." * * * * But the haunting tone That they deemed their own, Was only the wild wind's shrieking blast. [88] TO DOROTHY Do you remember, dear, that far off day A hundred thousand years ago it seems, And yet it stands out clear through misty dreams Of other hours we then esteemed no less I asked you to come home with me and play. I was not six and you were barely eight. We little thought it was the hand of Fate Had drawn us there our future lives to bless! Do you remember, dear, our golden tales In French of dream world children, far more real Than all our dolls that we could touch and feel Although we loved them too; do you recall Those days of sandy lots and red tin pails, Those anxious walks across the long white hill That lay between us, and the sudden thrill Of joy to hear the dear, familiar call? Do you remember, dear, our summer home, The gray rocks where the sea waves kiss the sand, And how we wandered barefoot, hand in hand, The salt spray dashing in our eyes like rain, And chased the scudding balls of snow-white foam? [89] And how at sunset, as we turned to go, We silent stood to watch the afterglow With longing vague we could not quite explain? You always seemed to me so big and strong: 'Twas you who scaled the rocks, and built the fort, And you again invented each new sport You, in my eyes, a great heroic boy; To gain your strength and skill I'd often long. I still recall the day when, weak and shy, I shrank away, when first I heard you cry, Dreading to miss your sparkling glance of joy. Do you remember, dear, one afternoon We wandered down from school along the sea, And while the blue waves sang unceasingly We read the poetry that we loved best? Do you remember how, when springtime's moon Silvered the meadow and the Mesa steep, For love of Night we'd leave all thought of sleep To count the constellations in the West? Do you remember, dear, the music sweet On Sunday evenings when the lights were low, And all was still except the dancing glow That played o'er walls and faces from the fire, [90] And all was silent but our hearts that beat? A simple slumber song in those past years Could blind our eyes with rush of stinging tears And rouse our hearts to passionate desire. Do you remember, dear, the song we wrote That school song which should all our heart contain And, when they sang it first, the anxious strain, The moment's pride, the thrill of happiness? Since then I've striven to reach a higher note, But never held achievement half so dear As when you worked with me to render clear A loyalty no words could e'er confess. Do you remember, dear, the greater joys We found on meeting after months apart, The blessedness of talking heart to heart And knowing all as it had been of old, Only our friendship deeper for the toys, The childish dreams, the little griefs and fears Had fled, and left a love which other years Of God's eternity shall all unfold. Do you remember, dear, that last sweet night You lay within my arms and banished sleep For fear of the awakening, while the deep Still dark the sacred moments softly stole, Till suddenly the dreaded shaft of light Crimsoned the eastern casement with the dawn, And silently we watched the breaking morn Lest words should mar our ecstasy of soul? Ah, dear, these memories, fraught with joy and pain, So sweet, so sad, so burdened with the ache Of unshed tears that fain my heart would break With longing for your smile through lashes wet, Yearning to hold you in my arms again! Your soul is mine in absence but the touch Of hands and lips I feel their need too much! My will is brave my heart will not forget! [92] TO MY FATHER Dearest, I fain would seek, this Christmas tide, Some little gift that might express my love A tiny stream that ever seeks its home, The mighty ocean of your greater love That gave me life and blessed my every hour; And, seeking, I have thought the truest gift Would be a portion of my very heart, Could I express it: this I send to you And pray you, for your own sweet sympathy That makes all life a joy and love divine, That you forgive all its unworthiness. For how may I express in any verse A thought transcending all philosophies, Containing all the poetry of the world; A thought too high for words, too deep for tears, Wider than life, and stronger e'en than death? Together we have seen a fairer glow, A nobler light o'er mountain, hill and sea Than any artist's brush might imitate; Together we have hearkened to the sound Of music that has stirred the heart with joy And thrilled the struggling soul with ecstasy Of aspiration; but the deepest song Is that immortal, voiceless harmony That sings to each within his inmost soul. So there are thoughts that lie beyond all words, [93] Far too divine for utterance; to touch Th' eternity of silence where they dwell Were profanation of life's holiest. And yet 'tis man's fatality to seek Expression for the inexpressible; E'en so for untold years men vainly sought To name the source of all their deepest joy, The highest aspiration of their souls, The great Unseen that lies beneath the show Of visible form, eternal, infinite, The perfect Beauty and the perfect Love; But not one name of any single race Might satisfy the hunger of their souls, Until the Christ, whose universal mind Could comprehend the craving of the world, Of all the feeble words the tongues of men Had ever fashioned, chose the most sublime, And called God, "Father!" [94l Sonnets SONNETS Dear heart, your love has led me to this hour From the beginning not the moment blest When first I saw you, and your eyes confessed The beauty and the magic of love's power; But from that instant, far beyond all Time, When first the voice of God breathed o'er the deep, Rousing all Nature from her deathlike sleep, And in His image moulding life sublime. From that same instant have our hearts been one, Immutably the same, and in my grief I turned to thy dear love for woe's relief And through the darkness saw in thee my sun. Yea, e'en when dark Despair my faith had riven, Found in thy spotless soul the peace of Heaven. [97] Not Death himself can hold our lives apart, For when thou'rt absent, still I ever seem To feel thy presence in the summer's dream Of golden glory, and thy tender heart Calls unto mine across the depths of Night, Voiceless and fathomless, and from afar The fiery splendor of yon lonely star Gleams with a radiance no other light Than thy clear eyes may shed; in every flower I breathe thy spirit's fragrance, all the while The rose blooms sweeter for my dearest's smile, Striking as sun athwart the leafy bower. It seems the very thunder of the sea Had caught the echo of love's mystery. [98] Whene'er I gaze upon a landscape rare Of wondrous beauty, or I chance to hear A melody unutterable yet clear, As God-inspired, I feel that thou must share In my soul's ecstasy, because thy soul Is wedded so to mine, and all thy thought So fraught with loveliness, that surely naught Of beauty can without thee form a whole. So when I enter in some holy place I need but to reach out to touch thy hand, For thou with me hast entered this dim land Transcending common bounds of finite space, And though thy loving face I may not see, I still must feel thy spirit's sympathy. [99] When at the close of day I reverent kneel To offer my petition at God's shrine. All of the human in this love of thine Is merged completely in the great ideal, And yet not lost; for in that awful hour When individual consciousness must melt Before that vaster Spirit which is felt To animate all life with mystic power, The knowledge of thy love is as a fire Consuming all life's dross, a beacon bright Flaming beyond my reach upon some height Toward which all yearning hearts in fear aspire, A light gloom-piercing, whose revealing ray Shines ever more unto the perfect day. [100] If I would find a proof for the belief, So strong within me, that the soul of man Has something of divine, despite the ban Of sin and suffering which defy relief; If I should seek to show the yearning cry Of human hearts throughout the ages long Is but the minor plaint of some vast song Sure of fulfillment, nevermore to die And fade to nothingness; or would I rout The torturing thoughts that oft beset my soul, Making me long to grasp life's curious whole, Or to deny, that I may cease to doubt; Or would I prove man's immortality, I need remember but my love for thee. THE IDEALIST If the Ideal at which men wrongly jeer Because they have not wings to soar from earth, Nor minds nor hearts to grasp the dreamer's worth And rightly judge the thoughts he holds most dear If this Ideal be all you seem to fear For my rash heart a means whereby the dearth Of love and truth are manifest, the birth Of many a heartache, many a bitter tear E'en though I dreamed your warning words were truth, E'en though I thought I ne'er might reach the goal, E'en though I knew the cost were my life blood Still, for this hope I'd sacrifice my youth, For this vain dream I'd stake my very soul, And bear my broken, trusting heart to God. [102] SONNET I love thee not! E'en so the greater part Of men must judge me; yet I wrongly thought, Although the end with bitterness were fraught, Thou couldst not so misjudge a true friend's heart. Ah, well, 'tis best to know that what I deem Love's sacrifice, thou wilt not value more Than all the foolish gifts love gave before; 'Tis but the shattering of one other dream. I take thy hand why should we speak of pride In this last moment? For a little while I still may gaze into thine eyes and smile, Though knowing that the heart within has died. And now farewell. Pray God thou'lt never know How true the love that can thy love forego! SONNET That spirit choir of immortal song Who touch each human heart of every age Through color, harmony, or mystic page, Revealing the ideals for which men long Those souls, in close communion with our own Though all unseen, must know beyond all word How their great truths have moulded ours, and stirred Our thought to heights without them still unknown. But to those others bound to us by ties Of flesh and blood, whose patient gentleness, Whose faith and courage have a power to bless As great as in creative genius lies, We never may express how they have. given Our souls new love to draw them nearer Heaven. [104] SONNET How do I know that this strange love I feel Is something truly vital in my life? 'Tis certain other loves are far more real That have endured through years of change and strife ; 'Tis certain other hearts are far more dear Whose strings accord with mine through every tone Of life's vast, varying symphony; more near Those souls which smiles and tears have proved my own. You do not share my joy or agony Yet when I walk alone by wooded streams, An unseen presence calms and strengthens me, Your spirit shines through all my waking dreams, And when I would my inmost soul express, I pray God you may know that happiness. [105] THE ARTIST Sometimes the dread assails me lest my Art Become too all-absorbing; lest I lose Sincerity in words, and falsely choose Of all life's high ideals the lesser part, Being content these joys and griefs to take Merely as moods to grace a facile pen, These ties that bind my heart to other men, As sacred for their sole expression's sake. Yet, when I look into thine eyes, I find A thought which all my powers doth far o'erreach, A love too holy to profane with speech, A soul whose depth transcends the artist mind. And once again with common men I feel The glory of an unexpressed ideal. [106] SONNETS Because your thoughts have made my flowers more fair, My sun more golden and my heaven more blue, Have made me feel that Nature still is true Beneath the hostile frown she oft doth wear; Because your song has taught my lips to sing With gladness, that were dumb; because your heart Divined the secret of life's highest Art Beauty is touch of cloud in everything Because your faith has raised me from the cares Of blackest Doubt to Hope's all radiant beams, Revealed the truth of all my fading dreams, Inspired my loves and purified my prayers; Because your trust in man's divinity Has saved my soul, I give my all to thee. [H> 7 ] My all and yet how little! How should I Weak as I am, yet deem my will so strong That it might shield from any touch of wrong One who is far above me as the sky? Yet if 'tis true, as thou will'st e'er believe, That each of us is but a feeble ray Of the great Over Soul, and if we may In our dark hearts this light of God receive, Why then, the simplest prayer can never fall Unheeded through the void of space, alone, Unanswered for can God reject His own? Ah, surely he must hear my heartfelt call The highest aspiration that is mine That He will bless and keep thy life divine! [108] To share thy life? Ah, 'tis not that I ask! For I would have thee free as is the wind And ignorant of all these ties that bind The soaring soul to earth appointed task. My heart is far too weak to claim a share In aught thou may'st accomplish, for thy love Is fixed on radiant visions far above Thou walk'st with angels in a heaven more fair. Yet in thy solitude thou'rt not alone But rather art become a lesser part Of the World Spirit of that mighty heart Which breathing through all life makes all men one. Thine is the power that glory to reveal I can but dimly worship thine ideal! [109] SONNET As one who in some dim cathedral kneels, The long aisles shadowed with the close of day, And kneeling, sense benumbed, too weak to pray, While chilling dark through columned marble steals, Heartsick and soul bewildered, wondering feels An unknown peace his weariness allay, As o'er the void of silence, far away, Deep toned as night, the sea voiced organ peals So through the shadowed spaces of my heart, The hallowed vastness where I kneel alone, While round about the seas of darkness roll, There floods a harmony from earth apart, As o'er the silent deeps of monotone Reverberates the music of thy soul. [no] r