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CONTENTS
OUR COUNTRY AND SOME MEN
I Love Thee,“
Columbia
Columbia’s CallTo the Nation ’s ConscienceThe White FleetAbraham LincolnWilliam McKin leyHenry GeorgeGeorge Wash ingtonNapoleon Bonaparte !
John KeatsThe Grave of Joseph Rodman Drake
TH OUGHTS , SCENES AND E! ENTS .
The IdealThe O ld PeddlerLorelei DespoiledTo the Egyptian ObeliskIrish MelodiesO ld PeriodicalsSouth AfricaIsrael , Mourning, 1905Alt Muetterchen
The WitchThe Electric CarFiddle NotesSaturday NightNature ’s NoblemenDe ProfundisThe HyacinthDenny ’s PoolChristmas
CONTENTS
MU SINGS AND PROBLEMS .
YouthTo TimeHuman WishesTo ManAt Midnight
Dreaming , DreamingThe Music of the StarsM idnight— “One Day Less
Avarice! uien Sabe ?ResemblanceAd Astra ?
Mors Pall ida
NATURE
To a RobinThe SeasonsNiagaraEarly SpringSpringThe BrookIn JuneJune Twil ight in Town
SongDaylight and StarlightThe OceanFarwell to the Moun tainsSunset
6
CONTENTS
PERSONAL AND EMOTIONAL .
RemembranceResurrectionTo My WifeWanderlustTo My DaughterTo My Son EdgarJune Child
GuidanceWoman ’s SphereTo Sadie C.
“Mizpah
Slumber SongMeeting— PartingCon servatlsm
My MotherVanishedAt MoonriseWhereforeVanitasThe Maiden ’s Lamen t
E! ERYDAY VERS E.
Satan’
s CommentsThe Road to Success for the Modern Poet .The Past to the PresentModern WarS icThe White Man ’s PrivilegeRags and RubbishWar, A. D. , 1900
—Peace, A. D . ?
7
CONTENTS
Trusts“Manly SportThe PoetLe Grand Tour
SONGS OF CH ILDH OOD.
SeasonsGamesWee Folks
OUR COUNTRY AND SOME MEN
I LOVE THEE, COLUMB IA!
I love thee, Columbia, fai r land of the west,By nature wi th lavish hand bounteously blestThy streams sparkl ing silver, thy plains waving
gold ,Thy lakes Heaven ’s mirrors , thy peaks towering
bold ;Where the palm ’s sunny leaves greet the evergreen
p ineAnd the fruits of the west and the east intertwine.
O refuge from oppress ion ,Thou home of l iberty ;Whose starry banner shel tersFreemen
,forever free !
I love thee, Columbia , for patriots diedTo wrest thee
.
from tyrants that j ustice denied .Thy sons bled to save, from disrupt ion and shame,Thy banner of stars and thy glory and fame ,That , still , from thy shores there may ring o
’
er thesea
The watchword of freedom , the song of the free .O refuge from oppression ,Thou home of l iberty ;Whose starry banner sheltersFreemen , forever free !
I love thee , Columbia. In progress and toil ,In love for thee rival the sons of thy soil ;From the Lakes to the Gulf , from Atlant ic
’s wildroar
To maj estic Pacific‘s gold-gl istening shoreWere
'
a foe thee to threaten , thy name to despise ,Thy sons in inv incible ranks would arise.
’! Copyright , 1900, by Carl Fischer, New York.Music by T. M . Toban i.
O refuge from oppression ,Thou home of l iberty ;Whose starry banner sheltersFreemen , forever free !
I love th ee , Columbia, and , true e’er to thee ,
I ’ll strive for thy glory , O land Of the free.May “Justice to all ,
” be thy motto so brave,“Where none shall be master, and none shall be
slave”
A nation united , as on e we will standOur hearts pledged to thee, our dear native land .
O refuge from Oppression ,Thou home of l iberty ;Whose starry banner shel tersFreemen , forever free !
COLUMBIA’S CALL
Hark ! ’tis the blast of the bugle,Hark ! ’ tis the blare of the drumArise in your might, ye patriots ,The time to act has come.Ye freemen , it is our country ’s callAmericans , warriors , one and all !To a rms ! To arms ! To arms !
Once more we’l l follow the banner ,Wh ose stars unblemished sh ine ;Our sacred flag of freedom ,
Blest by th e will d ivine.
Forward ! ye men of the northland ,Onward ! ye men of the west ;The south and the east send greet ings ,By on e dear mother blest.Columbia, thy sons have heard thee all ,Resolved to face the world at thy call .
12
To arms ! To arms ! To arms !Once more we’ ll follow the banner ,Whose stars unblemished shine ;Our sacred flag of freedom ,
Blest by the will d ivine.
Strike ! and remember the battlesYour sires for l iberty wonSeventy—six, and the spiritOf hallowed Lexington .
Columbia, with j oy we heed thy call ,United to sh ield thee , on e and all .To arms ! to arms ! to arms !Once more we’ ll follow the banner ,Whose stars unblemished shine ;Our sacred flag Of freedom
,
Blest by the will divine.1 898
TO THE NATION ’S CONSCIENCE
When you struck the shackles from himAnd you called your chattel manWho , through gloomy centuries , suffered
’Neath h is color’s darkened ban ;When you gave the rights of freemenTo the race your sires enslaved ,
How your hearts,'
with pride ennobled ,Cheered the saviors and the saved !
Writ with golden letters , gl isteningIn the sun of j uster days ,Flashed the purer constitution
,
Hailed and sung by poets’ praise.While the world , slow evolut ingFrom its prej udicial n ight
,
Marvell ed that a nation ’s conscienceBoldly dared assert i ts might.
I3
When , oppressed by powers of darkness,Faintly came a cry for aid ,With your Open hearts you lavished ,Blazed your will wi th gleaming blade.
!Yet , how strange ! With deeds recorded ,Glory gained in al ien landYou would snatch the gi ft you grantedFrom your brother ’s pleading hand ?
Name the day when , from his colors ,Cravenly the freedman fled !Speak the word ! With heart devoted ,For your land he fough t and bled !
’Neath the S tars and Stripes he conquered ,Side by side with brethren trueWhat that flag meant for the negro
,
Judge by what i t means for you !
Would you thrust h im from the hearth stoneThat your fathers , will ing, gave ?From him wrest the rights of freemen ,Whom your noblest d ied to save ?Justice dwells where men are equalHearken to her voice sublime ,Lest you banish her you cheri shed ,Turning back the hands of time.
Oh , remember your traditions !Progress pales that leaves behindBitter thoughts of wrongs unrighted ,In the march of humankind .Guard the flaming torch of freedom ,
Yours , by right , in sacred trust !Lead the world in might and glory !Fearlass, righteous , fair, and just !
1903
I4
THE WHITE FLEET
At Rivers ide
We are here , in our garmen ts°
of white,In the hour of triumph and peace.When we spake the world was listening,And its wonder will never cease .
There was need for our being and action,
That our country no laggard be ,Whose boast had become a legendThat she’d hold her own on the sea.
We arose when the people called us ,We arose from the brains that planned ,In strength , to stri ke death and terrorTo the foes Of our peerless land .
’Neath the torrid sun of AsiaWe spoke— none were left to replyAnd the Pearl of the smiling AntillesSaw us speak and our foemen die.
No more shal l the sad lamentationFor Columbia’s decl ine on the seaPierce the hearts of her sons with sorrowWe are strong, and thus ever shall be .
Flaunt the banner that blazed at ManilaAnd the flag at Santiago un furl ’d !When we spoke i t was ever to conquer,And our voice was heard all o ’er the world .
We are firm , and the mail that binds usIs no truer , indeed , than the steelOf the sons of the land of freedom
,
Who handle our guns and our wheel .
IS
We are here, in our garments of wh ite,In the hour of triumph and peace.When we spake the world was l istening,And its wonder will never cease.
1900
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
A rude log-cabin in the western wi lds ;A poor boy bent in study by the blazeOf home-made torch , and drink ing, with delight ,Wisdom
’
s pure waters , in the lonely night.
A stu rdy youth , whose blade hoar giants fellsTo mark the outposts of man ’s daring fightWith stubborn nature, and whose will ing toilWrings frugal sustenan ce from the virgin soil .
An honest heart , replete with simple faithIn the eternal righteousness of truth .
Wh en calumny casts o ’er the weak i ts bl ight ,An advocate of man ’s God-given right.
A matchless winner of his people’s trust ,Whose plea S incere is born of guileless thought ;Who towers , unreached , above the learned and staid ,Whose rugged grandeur makes mere culture fade.
A ruler by a sovereign nation ’s voice ;A chief in council with unsull ied soul ,Whose saddened visage speaks the crowding care ,Of burdens , he alone, of men , could bear.
A faithful helmsman in the raging storm ,
Whose trust , unshaken , guides the sh ip of stateO
’er seas that hunger, wi th tempestuous might ,To tear the covenant based on mutual right.
16
A bold eraser of the blot of shame ,Who strikes th e shackl es from a trodden race ,And crushes treason , with no faltering pause ,In faith abiding in a righteous cause.
An humble victor in a hapless strife ,To malice stranger , and to vengeance bl ind ,Whose outstretched hand would raise the fallen foe ,Whose
l)
Christ-l ike heart forgives the treacherouslow.
A martyr , whom malignant fate deniedThe modest mete his patient soul had craved ,E ’en when the sun , at last , burst through the pallThat hun g, tenacious, threatening woe to all .
A memory ! O a sainted shade—mankindWill ever cherish and will j ustly claim ,
While day and night on Time’s round d ial stand ,
The noblest gift God gave this western land .190 1
WILLIAM MCKINLEY
Died September 1 4th , 1 90 1
Toll slow , O mournful bells ,Our sorrow from dolorous throats ,Your sad and solemn knells ,Your woe-betokening notes !Ah , grief amongst us dwells ,And lowly our banner floats
Our leader , chosen and tried ,Our ch ieftain , benign and great ,Our trust , and our hope , and our pride ,Hath given his l ife for the state.
1 7
Your tribute , O cannons , roarO
’
er our ocean-gi rt land and the seas ,With your echoing thunder deplore,And the weighted silence release.Ah , well may our eagle soar,Half-hearted , in days l ike these
He hath fallen by coward hand ,Who, beloved and exalted , stood ;And a wail fills our cherished land ,At the loss of the great and the good .
Sound soft , O easeful airs ,Twining comfort with sorrow and tears ,Like a saint ’s ascending pray
’
rs,
When death li fe’
s blossom sears.Ah , virtue honored fares,Victorious o
’
er dread and fears
O faith from those dying lips !O love Of that failing voice !In your faintness pure ecl ipseA thousand sermons choice.
Be hushed , O million sounds ,Ye tireless wheels be stil l !For we all have a share in those wounds ,That our bosoms with an guish fill .Ah , reverence glideth i ts roundsWith a sad and tremulous thrill
Let us lay our leader to rest ,Our chieftain , fai th ful and great ,Enshrined in our hearts , ever bl est ,I! ho gave his l i fe for the state !
190 1
1 8
HENRY GEORGE
Died October 29th , 1 897
Though not thy follower, yet now, that thou art
gone ,I feel a void , as when some brill iant starIs van ished from the mortal eyes of menSome star that beamed its hopeful rays to guideThe hopeless and the struggl ing, lonely one.
Thou wast a man , a man , in these forlornConglomerate days, when many atoms striveVainly to build some homogeneous soulThat might pass muster as of sterner mouldSuch as our fathers
’
, when this land was born .
A latter Fran klin , in these days Of gain ,This era of aggrandizement ; —how strangeA man in publ ic l i fe , whose only aimThe welfare of h is fellows , and whose voiceWas raised to l i ft the lowly to a human plane !
Honest an d fearless —O how few can sayThat selfish interests flee their uttered word ;That circumstances do not shape their courseAnd bid them bow to some Gesslerian sham ,
Thei r manh ood at some idol ’s feet to lay !
Give me a man that cal ls a spade a spade !One who is bound to see his honest thoughtExpressed in words that quibblers cannot shake
,
And man enough to bear the sting of want ,The pa in of cen sure, struggling undismayed .
Truth must prevail , as the eternal sunHis rays yields to our helpless planet Earth
,
SO the inheren t consciousness of rightAnd j ustice will pursue i ts certain course
,
And warm the failing heart to work undone.1 9
Heroic men are few, and when they dieThe boastful strutters of this globe must feelHow vain is l ife before the giant-death ,That smites the great , the j ust , the small , al ikeAnd grinds to dust the frames that time defy.
But works remain , deeds of an honest soulLeave imprints on the sands of endless timeThus , this brave lover of mankind will live,This honest champion of the rights of man ,This friend of j ustice , whom the j ust extol .
1 897
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Serene and pure, thou loomst on History’s page
,
A man of action , and yet more than man ;For God doth mold on some supremer planA nation ’s founder, who creates his age.
In danger calm , and virtue’s favori te ch ild ,
Thy master-mind controlled a people’s fate ;
Thy sword carved out a free and happy state ;Thv wisdom curbed the passions keen and wild.
The fi rst among thy people, in whose heartThou ’ lt l ive exal ted and in love enshrined
,
While men may breathe of freedom ’s holy air.Thy spirit guide us when the heavens are fair,And lead us safely through the storms that bl ind ,Thy deeds our pole-star, and thy li fe our chart.
1 901
20
Deep in gloom forest ’s ban ished, throbb ing heart
Yet wistful eye may trace Hyperion sad,
Dim with the burden of unsceptred woe.0 Pan sti ll p ipes, an d Dian
’s virgin dartCleaves rustling fol iage where, in accents glad ,Undy ing songs through poesy’s kingdom flow.
1901
THE GRAVE OF JOSEPH RODMANDRAKE
Hun t’s Poin t, Bronx Borough
“Green be the turf above thee ,Friend of my better days !None knew thee but to love theeNor named thee but to praise.”
Halleck.
Scrubby knoll above the field ,Straggling sunbeams , scarce revealed .
Tangled bushes ; vagrant trees ;Weeds persisten t ; lull ing breeze.Cobwebs clinging, brambled mazeDim in twil igh t’s ghostly haze.Fallen stones and mouldering namesDust to dust , as Fate proclaims .
Softly step , lest careless treadPass upon the lonely deadIn their home , that kindly earthDestined for them at their b irth .
Alas for the poet , too soon called awayFrom the magic realm of the Culpri t Fay !From the slow-gl iding Bronx that inspired his museWith its waters pellucid , now prey to abuse.
22
O for the singer , whose voice rang on highIn his song of the Flag that he claimed from the sky !Had he been spared , O Columbia, to thee ,Proudly defiant from sea “
un to sea !Had he beheld thee , the queen of the world ,Envied wherever thy banner’s un furl ’d !Feared and respected , unsull ied and free ,Thy stars the bright beacons of l iberty !
Endless his sleep in his narrow cot,
By many unnoticed , by few not forgot ;Lonely, neglected—but l ittle to spareHad mother-Earth for this poet so rare.Running wild riot , the weeds rank enslave ,By blossoms unbrightened , the singer
’
s lonegrave.
Yet, when the summer-night silently falls ,Fire-fl ies fl it and the cricket calls ,And , from their slumber, elf, gobl in , an d fayHasten to guard h im who sang thei r lay ;Sang of their deeds in the long-ago ,W hen h is pulses beat and his cheeks we’reaglow.
Bright , on the swell Of the azure wave ,Flashes the flag of the free and the brave ;Blazons the emblem he proudly sung ,Deathless , his strains , and inspiring, have rung.And , in the distance , the echoing roarSpeaks of his country’s might from the shore ;Speaks from the mouth of the cannon grimTerror of foes , but a tribute to h im.
Tangled the bushes, neglected the spot ,Lonely and flowerless the singer
’s cot.Many the days since they laid him to rest ,
23
Gathered so young to the realms of the blest.And the moons that waned and the years thatdiedEnshroud his l i fe in eternity ’s t ide.
Faint , l ike a sigh from the d im spirit—land ,Glide the sad lines traced by friendsh ip ’s truehand ,Tears , thei r mute music , e
’er sac red they beHonoring the poet who sang of the free !
1 900
24
THOUGHTS , SCENES , EVENTS
THE IDEAL
When violets azure starred the meadAnd smil ing wreaths crowned happy trees,A youth strode on , where blade and weedSwayed gently in sweet vernal breeze.
’
Twas rapturous l ight illumed his eyes ,E ’en while he asked enthusiast-wise
O saw ye not the maiden rare ,With dreamy eye and raven hair ?Her form is l ight as sunbeam fair ;Her voice is soft as angel
’s pray r.
The ploughman halts_
his pat ient yoke,On knotty arm he leans his frame ;
“ I saw her ' not ,” he slowly spoke
,
“And doubt she ever hither came.
While fi elds rejoiced in flowers brightAnd nature throbbed with life and song,By hope ’s own pulsing blush bedight ,A sturdy traveller passed along.Though steadfastly he plod his way,Yet pause he would , to query aye
O saw ye not the maiden rare,With dreamy eye and raven hair ?Her form is l ight as sunbeam fai r ;
$ 7Her voice is soft as angel ’s pray r.
His sweeping scythe the reaper staidH is palm relieved toil ’s gl istening brow ;
“I saw her not ,” he thoughtful said ,
Nor ever passed she hence , I trow.
27
The shade was heaped w ith rounded fru it ,Ripe autumn stored the barns full well ;His path , a wanderer hoar, pursued ,Whose beard o ’er aching bosom fell .His frame on l imbs all-palsied sway
’
d ,Yet feebly quoth he, un dismay
’
d
O saw ye not the maiden rare,With dreamy eye and raven hai r ?Her form is l ight as sunbeam fai r ;
3Her voice is soft as angel ’s pray r.
The glean er glanced from stooping task,And pi ty smoothed his rugged face,
“I saw her not, for whom you ask,Nor on e l ike her, about th is place.
”
On hill and dal e white mantle lay,And hard and hopeless froze the ground ;The starl ight ’s lonely keep alwayRemained a bare, unfriended mound .
And from it floats, in ghostly breath ,The quest bequeath
’
d by l i fe to death
“O saw ye not the maiden rare ,With dreamy eye and raven hai r ?Her form is l ight as sunbeam fair ;Her voice is Soft as angel
’
s pray’
r.
”
The eyes of heaven search afarThroughout the pathless universe
“I saw her not ,” thus beams each star,
’Tis vain to seek such charms as hers.1 901
28
To l ighten and insp ire the human heart ,Burdened of worldly cares, and sore wi th griefSuch as the glad Immortals never knew ;Such as my poet felt as mortal man ,E
’
en while his sp iri t tasted joys d ivine,S ipping of nectar, on ambrosia fed ,Though fleshly tormen t racked his earthly frame.
Yet vain my craving, by the stream of song,The tabernacl e of Teutonic hearts ,My spirit’s ancien t haun ts, to muse and sing,While Hel ios’ rays, born from Oceanus
’ depths,With sparks li t on divine Olymp ian heights ,My tresses kissed , and shone my flashing comb ,Luring the woful youth to amorous spell.
For mortals tore my singer from his grave,Hurling anathemas upon his silen t l ips ,Piercing his heart with shafts of venomed hate,“Unpatriotic mocker, skept ic vagabond ,Sensuous voluptuary, scribbler bribed by foes,Doubter of doubtless rights of kings’ div ine,Base, ingrate proselyte, blasphemer,
” and the likeThey cried , and turned me from my native hauntsA restless wanderer on th is whirl ing orb.
Driven from home, mine eyes drank in the west,Where Phoebus settles in a burst of gold ,More splend id in its wealth than M idas knew ;Sacred to human freedom , where the starsShine forth in azure field and lend their sh ielding
rayTo mill ions, free and equal—sovereigns all ,By righ t divine, ordained of human will ;Where each may serve the Power his heart conceivesTo the full measure of his consci ence, free ,
30
In true adoremen t, of his neighbor’s thoughts ;
Yet where all kneel at Freedom ’s altar, raisedOn broadest base of equal rights for all .
Here lingered I , awaiting some fair placeWithin the confines of the garden-spot ,Wherein the tumult rests to dream an d play ;Where ch ildren , great and small , are void of care ,And Nature smiles with Art , their hands a-clasped .
But 10, with plans and tablets , learned men ,With compass , rule, and magnifying glass ,With the experience of the connoisseurAnd expert j udgment , came , and , forthwith , foundMe , an d my cherished emblematic train“ Ill-fitted , unaesthetic, ugly, vile ,And deviating from most sacred rules.And thus decreed my exile to extend ,Until some pitying heart might grasp my woe
,
With generous hand provide some welcome home ,Where I might rest from my long wandering.
Rumor, borne gently , on mild Notus’ wings .
Breathed softly that , from the bright ci ty, famedFor its surprising wealth Of women fair
,
The summons came to bid me j oin the throngOf chiselled images , that dare not vieWith the more perfect forms that grace its homes ;And from the shores of the maj estic stream
,
Yon supe rb rival of my native Rhine ,There floated , faintly, from the western bank,Amid the noise of traflic, and the clangOf whirring wheel and shrill
,disturbing valve
,
The cry subdued : “Ah come to us , fai r maid ,Within our fields , Elysian , rest be thine !
”
But vain the rumor, vain the welcome tones,
3 1
Beating but feebly on the surging throngsThat , rushing breathless , with unceasing toil ,Make, what she is, the Empress of the West .
At last , at last , I found a resting placeAmid the lonely regions of the B ronx ,Where, slow , the surging waves of trade subside ,And lovely nature sadly yields to fate ;Where tree and flower survive to mutely breathe
,
For some brief spell,of more poetic days
,
When frugal fare and honest,sober toil
Had fit reward in lengthened l ives of peace,
And madly-rushing crowds did not pursueTh e fleeting feet of Hermes, to o
’
ertake
The god an d grasp his store of glistening gold,
The goal of this industrial,noisy age.
Here, mid the swaying trees , they gave me restFrom my long wanderings
,step-child
,I,of scorn ,
Of narrow quibbl ing for my poe t ’s sake,
Of rigid rul ing in the name of art.Rest, rest I found , and thousands greeted meWith hearts Of welcome
,chanting my fair song
,
That made my singer deathless to th is world .
Ah me— I weep— at last to rest , and findMyself despoiled by an ignoble hand
,
E ’en on Columbia’s hospitable soilSad Melan choly’s lonely features crushed ;My fair Euterpe headless , and the roseShe offered my sweet singer, ruthless tornWith her soft arm , from her entrancing frame.
And why this act ? Did base , mal ignant spiteThus vent its wrath ? or gloomy prej ud ice
,
Sl ink darkly forth,enwrap-ped in inky night ,
To coward deed ? or were conceived , perchance,These fatal blows of some befuddled brain ?
32
Ah me ! Far have I wandered ; rudely coarseHath been my treatment at the hands of men ;But now , this heartless vandal adds disgraceTo all my Suffering, and I mutely bowMy head in sorrow, and my thoughts shall beUnuttered to th
’
impassive throng , and mute ,My lips— I dream of fairer days , when songOf glad Immortals filled my breast with j oy ,Nor breathed its sweetness on man ’s prose-dulled
ear,Till my great singer sang it to the world .
1 900
T0 THE EGYPTIAN OBELISK
Hail , Ancient Stranger from the land of Mom !
Who, in old age , hast sought these western cl imes ,From the veiled past where, mythic an d forlorn ,Rose Heliopolis in forgotten times .
On thee , O emblem of the rising sun ,A hundred generations gazed and died
,
And passed to nothing,while thou stand ’st as on e
Born for eternity— great Thotmes’
pride.
He, who once raised thee to Hor em akhou ,
Would have, as mighty Phra, thee grant and giveE
’
erlastin g l i fe , and thou , wi th language true,Imbuést mortal with desire to l ive.
Still , when thine age he calmly contemplatesAnd counts the hastening years ’
twixt birth anddeath ,
Life seems a mockery, and unkind the Fates ,That , when he wills to l ive, deny him breath.
33
O for a long existence , an d to seeThose scenes that thou complacently hast view ’
d !”
The soul’
s vain longing, whose philosophyTo search l ife ’s depths—serves only to delude.
Remind , mute wi tness of the distant past ,Remind the heedless of those gone before.Life’s van ity thy theme ,
,
wh ile thou shalt last,Oblivion , when towards heaven thou poin t
’
st no
more.1 88 1
IRISH MELODIES
I heard the soft plaint with i ts harmony floating,The sigh of a people, the voice of a race ;And the melody sad , with its accents denotingA tribute to love, wreathed with chival ry
’s grace.
I thought of your fate, your devot ion to freedom ;The ken of your stern resolution was mine ,And the struggle and stri fe for ideals you cherish,That l ink all your hearts, l ike a mission divine.
I thought of your valor— the vanguard in battle,Your bright wit and humor, your keen repartee ,Your love for that isle— and they all seemed trans
figuredYour songs drew the tears of affection from me.
190 1
OLD PERIODICALS
Mutely ye lie , and yet, how eloquentYour still appeal recalls to memoryThose by-gone days, when many an hourUpon your pictured page , and h istory,Romance, and science their enchantmen t
34
You spoke to me, in thousan d various ways,The thoughts of gi fted minds, and fancy
’s touchRevealed not, then , the toil , the pain , for praiseAnd fleeting gold —e ’en i f thei r lot was suchThat spurred long-orphaned pens in halcyon days.
Mutely ye l ie ; and heartless, base, i t seemsTo turn you from the home that welcomed onceYour weekly visit , and where youth
’s fond dreamsWove vision s of the future, in responseTo inspiration from your magic reams.
Ah grievous pi ty ! sheltering space is small ,So, to damp mouldering, you must be consigned ,In dismal subterranean gloom
,or fal l
To strangers who, perchance, may, scattered , findYour serried
!
numbers , at some petty stal l .
Thus , ye are fated , faithful friends of Old ,To share li fe’s round of harsh vi ciss itude.The world is Open for the young and bold ;I t gree ts the infant— yet, how destituteIn veneration — to the aged , how cold !1901
SOUTH AFRICA
Who seeks for cause in this unholy stri fe,That bids the very heavens cry for shame ;This hideous sacrifice of pulsing l i fe,This carnage for most pitiable fame ?
’Twas not the gold that Afric’s bosom bears ;’Twas not the mandate ’gainst an al ien rule,That smote th is earth with hellish pang, and tearsThe hearts that beat not in some wretch or fool.
3S
Human aggression an d man ’s stubborn mind ,These sway yon scions of a brother-race ,Whose sturdy valor dazzles all mankind ,Whose murderous struggle, Christ
’s own wordsgrace.
Aye , talk of progress , ye , who string the soulOn dry statistics and , with wrinkled mien ,Shake for your problem , lest survive the whole ,And not your fi ttest, as you fondly ween .
GO , preach your doctrine to the human beast,Enraged for blood , and call ing on i ts GodTo justi fy its ravage, un appeastBy gory streams and grave-uprooted sod .
Ah,glorious progress , w ise, enl ightened age ,
That cannot stay the fratricidal blow !Shame- faced , turn back cold Clio
’s blood-stainedpage
Ten centur ies or more , and vo iceless grow !
There seek , ye thoughtful sophists , i f ye must ,The cause , the j ustice of this sacrifice,That stamps God
’
s creatures into useless dust ,And mocks your culture , with its frenzied eyes.
1 90 1
ISRAEL , MOURNING,1 905
Aye , mourn thy slain , O Israel , weep , and mournThe gloomy powers that would efface thy nameWith gory torch , and blaze their own , base shame,In dullness brute, by envy
’s hand upborne.
The trifles of those buried days ,Like flowers, spr ing from memory
’s tomb ;An d Chi ldhood
’s j oys , the final raysOf dying stars, p i erce age
’
s gloom.
1901
THE WITCH
Lead forth the w itch !” the justice spakeShe hath been found , by Christian folk,All ied with Satan ’s goat and drake ,And willful sought the arch-fien d ’s yoke.
“So , therefore, for the common weal ,And in the name of the Most High ,It now is meet that j ustice sealHer fate , and , forthwi th , she mote die.
“Upon the stake she shal l expire ;Dark sin hath long defiled her heart ;Her soul be cleansed by flame and fire,And with her pe rish devil ish art.
The crowded square is hushed and still ,With agitation vain to trace ,Though yon accusers h ide but i llTheir bated breath an d ashen face.
An d eyes , bewitched in rigi d stare ,Behold a hapless creature ledBy law’s cold hands , a maiden fair,With gu ilt ’s base chaplet on her head .
She mounts the scaffold , lost in dream ,
NO sigh escapes her branded breast ;Nought, in her black eyes
’ furtive gl eam ,
Save awed bewildermen t exprest.38
Her frame is slight ; her cheeks are pale,Yet vagrant blushes o ’er them hasteAs
,rudely, though she , trembling, quail ,
A sinewed churl enchains her waist.
A fl ickering flame—a piercing sh riekTo heav
’
n ascends—an eager blaze,Whose tongues man ’s fiery sentence speak,And wrest her from man ’s fiercer gaze.
Still l ips are mute and hearts beat slow,
Nor silent pray’
r the spell can break ,That hisses in yon dazzling glow,
And , quivering, crimsons cloud and lake.
’Tis done — The throng, reluctant, leavesThe smouldering scene of vanquished shame,Where l ingering smoke stil l darkly weavesI ts funeral wreath o’er dying flame.
A sluggish stream subservient se eksIts hav ’n of peace, the meeting-houseWhose bare unworldl iness bespeaksThe parson ’s theme and knitted brows .
In sombre sermon he exhortsHis pass ive l isteners to bewareThe fiend , that modest virtue courts,An d gl ibly lays his treacherous snare.
“Go hence , ye sinners, to your homeH is thundering words, the voice of doom“Know ye, who from God
’s pathway roam ,
That sinful j oys reap death and gloom .
”
39
GO, contrite , hence , and , fervent, pray
That, humbly, ye may l ive and serveThe Lord , as He decides ye may,Nor from H is stern commandments swerve !
”
Morn ’s rosy smile becalms the sea ;The west-wind rocks the flowers of spring
,
And where may saints and sinners be ?
O ’er leveled graves the robins sing.
Through time ’s cool archways glides a sigh ;A ghostly whisper l inks the years ;The same sun gilds the same blue sky
,
And joy is wedded st il l to tears.1 901
THE ELECTRIC CAR
I come with a hiss and I pass with a roar ;I am gone l ike the blast on a desolate shore .My fram e is of i ron ; my soul is the sparkThat man has enslaved from the powers of dark.
For haste is my motto , and speed is my song ;My master must think when I ’m rushing along ;
For l i fe is a span , and time it is gold ,And man , to succeed , must be nimble and bold .
I care not for anguish ; I halt n ot for pain ;I note not the vict ims my hurry has slain ;None hinder my progress , n or curses nor tearsLife hinges on seconds
, an d seconds make years.1 901
FIDDLE NOTES
Di dee l i dee, —di lee , di l id-dle,Di dee l i dee, —d i lee, di l id-dleO ’er the distan ce, through the night ,While the silent stars are l istening.Nimble music wakes the fiddle
,
Winging laughter, silv’
ry bright.
Di dee l i dee,—di lee
,di l id-dle
,
Di dee l i dee , —di lee, di l id-dleCare is fled and mirth is king,For the glad brief summer hours ;Life has ceased to be a riddleHeart and voice concordant ring.
Di dee l i dee,—di lee
,di l id-dle
,
Di dee l i dee,— d i lee, di l id-dleEyes a—sparkl ing
,clear as day.
Cool , refreshing breezes dally.Agile fee t inspires the fiddle ;Graceful forms in rhythm sway.
Di dee l i dee, —d i lee , di l id-dle,Di dee l i dee
,— d i lee
,di l id-dle
Might thus e ’er the heart accent,
While it beats, this thoughtless pleasure ;Leaving sages solve the riddle
,
O ’er their gloomy pages bent.
Di dee l i dee,— di lee , di l id-dle ,Di dee l i dee
,—di lee
,d i lid-dle.
1 900
41
SATURDAY N IGHT
How sad the sight—a strong man ledBy yond er child along the street ,With staggering step and muddled head ,Wh ile curses
,foul
,his l ips repeat .
A slave to passions that degrade,Nor bind their chains on lowest beast ;That hol iest duties bid evade,And sway the greatest l ike the least.
It is not mine to cast the stone,I know mank ind is prone to sin ;But years of toil could not atoneFor wrongs l ike th is, to nearest kin .
My heart beats for yon anx ious boyWho feels his si re ’s keen d isgrace.What thoughts his young hopes must destroy,With shame stamped on his youthful face !
O subtle demon , that dost creepWith treacherous charm through helpless man ,
And dost thy weakened vict im keepFrom honor’s cal l and nature’s plan !
Ah,wretched beings , who incite
Such scenes as this , for petty gain !Yon child ’s sad eyes your deeds indict ;To God , his tears shall not be vain .
190 1
4a
NATURE ’S NOBLEMEN
Here is health to the man tha t says “yes or says‘C
n0,”
Be he wise O r unlearned , be he brill ian t or slow.
I am full , to the core, wi th d isgust an d disdainFor the quibblers an d gl iders, intriguers an d vain .
Here’s a shake for the hand that is warm and isfirm ;
For the snake and the worm are cold-blooded andsqu irm .
I detest the conceit that is blatant and loud ;I abhor the smooth villain that sl inks through the
crowd .
Here’s success to the work that is honest an d fair,Be it planted on earth , be it builded in air.
May the devi l confound his sl ick pupil that triesTo attain any goal by his cringing an d l ies.
190 1
DE PROFUNDIS
H ere, where men si t an d hear each other groan.
Keats.
0 Heal th , fair goddess of the beam ing face,Now but a memory, who wert once my friend ,My Childhood ’s rosy guard ian , wont to lendUncraved , thy presence, wi th benignan t grace.
O d id my midnight musings , and the traceOf siren Nicotine bid thee forefendMy l istless couch, that Morpheus dost not send ,From quivering brain enjoining t ime and space ?
43
Or is li fe ’s daily rack th ine mortal foe ?
S ince thou elud’
st me, when , with impish glee,Fears
,frights
,and torments palsy
,dumb and slow,
Mine onward step, an d throttle, dizzily,
Clear thought, nor wouldst my poor, weak heart
assuage,Fluttering
,l ike captive bird , in poisoned cage.
1 906
THE HYACINTH
Of all the youth whom Hellas bore ,None more than Hyacinthus fair ;Beloved Of the god of song,Endowed with charm and beauty rare.
Alas, for those, on whom their love ,In tender years , the gods bestow ;Not theirs the lot , the gifts divineTo scatter long, on earth below.
’Twas thus,decreed the envious Fates
,
Or j ealous ! ephyr ’s spiteful willThat from Apollo ’s hand should dartThe discus
,swift with fatal sk ill .
As,wounded sore , and faint with pain ,
In Attica’s embowered wood ,The god-loved boy, expiring, lay,On moss-bed , stained with precious blood ,
His heart transfixed with grief d ivine ,Apollo bade a flow
’
r to spring,From each red drop , eternally ,A fragrant ruby-wealth to bring.
44
The Manitou , grieved , in his sorrow shedA tear from his great , grey eye ;
An d i t fell with a splash, l ike a thunder-crash,And the riven rocks echoed his sigh .
But the red-man dreaded the Spirit’s wrath ,Onteora grew peaceful and stillAnd the pale-face came, and his axe and his nameBlazed boldly on mountain and bill .
Dan Denny set forth in the midsummer’s n ightWith his lure for the waters ’ queen ;And he cast about , for the wily trout ,The bushes and bowlders between ;
And he came to the rock that was riven in twainBy the tear from the Manitou ’s eye ;He saw, in the gloom ,
the watery tomb,
An d he whisked his moth-winged fly.
But the Great-Spirit,wroth , in his righteous wrath
Bid a monstrous trout to rise ,And Denny ’s l ine san g, and the dim forest rangWith his loud and exultant cries .
And he played h is prey in the d ismal gloom,
By the waning moon ’s faint ray ;And he coaxed and curst, and in anger burst ,Boding ill for his j udgment-day.
The sombre firs sighed ’
mid the cruel fray,
And the screech—owl hooted its cry,Wh en Dan Denny vowed , by h is soul and h is
shroud ,To conquer his game
,or to d ie.
46
As he leaned o’er the brink of the ebon crag,With a splash rose the k ing of the gloom ,
An d the angler was flung,unshriven , unsung,
To the bottomless depths of his tomb.
In midsummer’s night , when the moon hangs lowAnd the fire-fl ies flash on the stream ,
A ghost faint is seen , the bushes between ,Gliding on to the goal of his dream .
Beware, beware of Denny’s Pool ,
In its frame of forest ’s gloom ;With its haunting face,
’tis a gruesome place,
And grim as man ’s pitiless doom .
I9O !
CHRISTMAS
Christmas bells ! Christmas cheer !Happiest time in all the year ;Though , in winter
’s i cy clasp ,Nature slumbe r, cold and drear,Field and wood be chill and sere.Christmas bell toll the kn ellO
’
er the corpse of frantic strife,
Envy, hatred , selfish l i fe ;Let them lie in deepest grave
,
With no pray’
rs their souls to save.Hail the birth , aga in on earth ,Of sweet charity and worthChristmas come, to open , wide ,Hearts , by yule—l it fireside.
Christmas star ! Christmas tree !Tide of bl issful memory
,
Light our path wi th guileless thought,
47
Bring the joy, Oh joy of yore,From your unexhausted store.Christmas star
,from afar,
Beam thy blessings , meek and mild ,O ’er the world grown wise and wild ;Beam with blessed ray again :“Peace on earth
,good will to men .
Christmas brea the,with incense rare,
Love and kindness everywhere.
Christmas fair ! Christmas bright !Hail to thee, oh holy night !Thou , of nature
’s hope, the sign ,Gav
’
st to earth the babe d ivine ;G iv
’
st, unto these later days ,Grateful hearts, and l ips to praise.Wondrous night , that bid
’
st ariseVisions craved by fancy’s eyes :Fire-l it hills
,in thought , we see,
Brightest star o ’er Gal ilee ;Oak-tree wreathed with mistletoe ,Humble manger’s aureole glow.
Christmas tide, oh abideWith thy message, far an d wide ;Wave o ’er hearts thy magic wand
,
Bringing peace to every land .Christmas , with thy gentle mood ,Teach our common brotherhood .Bells and cheer
, an d star an d tree,Christmas ever welcome be !
1 905
MUSINGS AND PROBLEMS
YOUTH
An ample armchair, clouds of ambient smoke,And thoughts—O solace for thy buried years !And i f age chill thee —wisdom ’s sobe r cloakWrap snugly round thee, youth
’s own j oys and tearsNO longer warm ; of silvered strains, a throngCheers not the monotone of dull routine,Nor hastes thy pulses to their wonted pace.But faint , unstirring, sounds that once-loved song ;The breath of spring, i ts banner
’s emerald sheen ,To thine experienced mind seem commonplace.
O for the foun tain that, in legends Old ,Poured forth its waves in some meridian Thule !Fragran t with blossomed breezes manifoldFrom sun -girt lands, within whose crystal poolMen might wash off their years , and leap anewInto the turmoil , the glad stri fe of youth ,That grasps the day and lets the morrow restWith its own cares , and , laughing, l i fe
’s sore rueShakes on slow wisdom ,
—wild , perchance, uncouth ,Yet happy as yon warbler in its nest.
O fame and station l— piti ful array,Age-burdened , l imp beh ind youth
’s winged feet .Vain would the worry ing purse with red-checked
Or cares of state with boyhood ’s joy compete.O monarchs true ! whose steeds , subservient hours ,Bear you , at will , amid the magic trainOf pleasure, dedicate to rosy health .0 kings uncrowned ! that dream not of your powers,Yet ru le a realm age never can regain ,Armed , cap-a-pie , with years, wi th thought , and
wealth !1903
TO TIME
O fleeting spiri t that , impassionate,Pursuest, unhalting, thine eternal course,With naught to bid thy hastening foot to pause ,Nor genial welcome to thee, soulless fate !
Remorseless,chase, insensate, —unconcerned
By l ife or death , unmoved by smile or tear,Thou turn ’st the guiltless hope to trembl ing fear,And quen chest zeal that for perfection yearned .
What is to thee ambition ’s lofty fl ight ?
Tha t h ast seen empires sink to nam eless graves !What import to thee , sovereigns and slaves ?That hold
’
st, in equal balance , day and night !
The merry laughter of sweet childhood ’s j oy,The artless fancy of love-drunken hearts,The faith in toil , the care that trust imparts ,The tottering step creat
’
st thou , to destroy.
Thy breath doth bleach ; i t tears the raven gloomAnd blows the roses from the ruddy cheek ;Thy furrows plough
’
st thou on the strong and meek ;Thou rock ’st the cradle and thou d igg
’
st the tomb .
Coldly thou glidest through ages and through space ;Planets and suns thou l ight
’
st to shine and pale .Thou hear
’
st existence, but to draw the veil ,And nothingness dreams of its vaguish trace.
Thou guidest faiths to spring from hOpe and fear,Dogmas and creeds , to rise and sway awhile ;Fancy ’s d ivin ities dost form , to reconcileMen to thei r lot, and mould the hapless seer.
52
TO MAN
Why should ’st thou be my foeman , framed , l ike me ,Of mortal substance, since, by subtle chance,Our pathways meet in this brief space of t imeThe Power inscrutable allots to man ?
Our world is one vast graveyard where , forgot,The ashes of the myriad dead repose ,Who , too, as thou and I , had planned and hopedTo conquer
,bu t to find the tomb the i r goal .
’
Tis well to strive, to learn , to th ink, to actAmbi tion l ifts the soul to strength an d power.Yet but a moment , and the strong and weak,Alike, must close their eyes in endless sleep.
Give me thy hand , my brother, while we may,Let us rejoice that we have met to noteThe kindred spark that fills thy breast and mineWho knows , how soon we
’ll part forevermore ?
Though science preach that but the fit survive ,The strong must drive the weaker to the wal l ,That some elect shall shine l ike gorgeous stars ,And the great multi tude in darkness pass ,
Let i t suflice that we were born to l ive ,White, black, and yellow, Of all various faiths,Of mental heights , or deep in ignorance steeped ,We’re human all , whatever our degree .
Though competi tion be the l ife of trade ,Combat , unceasing, watchword of our l ife,And progress based upon the forward strideOf selfish strength
,tha t others leave behind
54
Yet still , with learn ing, science, art, and ski ll ,And mental gi fts to soar above the crowd ,With wealth and pride, what matter they forsooth ?All who were born to live, are born to die !
1 900
AT MIDNIGHT
Over the peaceful watersFloat the sounds of the midnight bell ,Like the voices of spi rits echoed ,Celestial , its musical spell .
Solemn and calm , as a token ,The death of another dayA signal to l i fe’s weary pilgrims,Of time - that passeth away.
Day and night , an d thei r burden ,Their joy and their mani fold care ,Forgotten in chan ges eternal ,A wish , a brief s igh and a pray
’
r.
We ’ve been , —and we a re not— an atomOn the restless ocean of l i fe ,Tossed by the unebbing current ,Creatures of pit iless stri fe.
Patience and toil , brave endeavorHonest endurance and faithHope, l ike a beacon of heaven ,Chance, —a terrestrial wraith.
What is an age ? what, a thousand ?Sunl ight and darkness succeed
,
E ’en l ike on e pulse-beat another,
Races and nations and creed .
55
Children are born and bear sires ;What is a l i fe’s barren yield ?Onward to sink into LetheGrains drop on fate’ s fatal field .
Works that endure —ask the seeming! uenchless star in the sky :Dead— though its rays fall for aeons ,Bright, on the wondering eye.
Riches , and fame , and honors ?Names ’luming history’s pageBuddhas and P latos were many,Nirvan a claims seer and sage.
But for the present, the era,Children of men , can you zeal ,For , of the future , no sibyl ,What is to be , can reveal .
Records of ancient convulsions ,Rocky, and speechl ess , and cold ;Though eternity’s bell toll a requiemYouthful this earth is , an d old .
Over the peaceful watersFloat the sounds of the midnight-bellA greeting, a warning, a summonsCreation -obl ivion its knell .
1 896
ONLY FOR A DAY
Wreathe the laurel for the victor,
Mingl ing roses with the bay.Crown his brow, for he has vanquishedClio whispersz—
“for a day.”
56
Bring the harp,its strains insp ired
Shall enchant thee with a lay,
That some mighty poet chan tethFashion hath it —“for a day.
”
Clasp thy loved one to thy bosom ,
Let thy heart its homage pay,Breath ing, softly , true devotionEros murmurs : “for a day.”
Hark , the thundrous words of warningFill the soul with awe-full sway ;Mercy crave repentant sinnersSighing saints weep — “for a day.
Fame and faith , and love and fancy,Life and l ight— how brief their stay.Man beholdeth , man en joyethGod so wills it— “
for a day.1 899
DREAMING, DREAMING
Dreaming,Dreaming
Of the days that ne’er shall be.
Hoping,hoping
For the ship from o ’er the sea.
Trusting,trusting
In the gift of strength an d mind .
Toiling, toil ingWith the zeal of humank ind .
Drifting,drifting
On the ebbing stream of l ife.
57
S ighing,sighing
At the endless waste and strife.
Yearning, yearningFor the rest that waits for all .
Sleeping,sleeping
At the Maker’s gentle call .
THE MUSIC OF THE STARS
God ’s golden notes are writ athwart the skyOn Hope ’s own page of deep
,eternal peace ;
Nor wait they, mutely, the great Master’s touch
To burst in echoing melody through spaceEndless as Time, th
’ unending Universe,For to the soul , whose lonely yearning soarsBeyond the bounds O f toil
,Of fell d isease,
Of mortal weakness and of crushing care,Immortal music fills the silent sphereWith rapturous sweetness, wafting calm serene.
What symphony maj est ic breathe the raysIn sparkl ing splendor, born of countless orbs
,
Unheard , yet drunk by more than sensual earIn ecstasy of spi rit , sanctifiedWith thought removed afar this fateful globe,And all i ts human frailty and its woes !
Hushed is the stri fe and healed the wound of war,
From envy ’s baneful blight the heart absolved,
S tilled e ’en the struggle for this earthl iness ,’Mid wondrous tunes that sing
,subl imely grand
,
Th ’ undying song of immortalityDivine perfection
,the Creator’s love
,
Dawning but d imly on man ’s awe-filled senseA faint reflection of the unrevealed .
58
What anthems swe ll from out th’ encircl ing vault ,Bounded by mortal eye, yet boundless as the
Th oughtThat bid it be , and be forevermore,And mill ion— mill ion years Of universal l i fe,Of being by the Word , an d having been ,And being still , th
’ Almighty Will of God !
Aeons and worlds,Creation ’s graspless maze,
Endless to human calculation , but a glan ce ,A breath of H im who was, and ever is,Whose Voice cal led forth what is and e’er will be ,Whose Will exalted sways the UniverseAnd bids H is Work Etern ity proclaim.
Wh at in sign ifican ce these human discords yield ;What motes , the turmoils on this mundane sphere ;What bubbles on th ’ unfathomed sea of Time :Earthquakes and floods , and stri fe of race and faith !When silent music from a myriad worlds
,
Uncomprehended in subl imity,Enfolds the soul in deepest depth of peace,God ’s radiant notes in heavenly harmony.
1900
MIDN IGHT ONE DAY LESS
One day less to spen d in watch ingO ’er the cherished l ittle flock.One day less to note their growing
,
Slow, the bell strikes twelve O’clock.
On e day less of toil and worry,Anxious of to-morrow’s care.One day l ess of hOpe and sorrow ,
And to God a heartfelt pray’
r.
59
On e day less— the moments swiftlyGl ide their stern eternal course.One day less—we crave the future ,Brightly pictured on i t soars.
One day less- the fleeting phantoms,Gain and comfort quickly fade.One day less—O hopeful mortal ,E ’en ambition lowly laid .
One day less— the goal approaching,Care and wor ry pass away.One day less no fight unceas ingI s thy lot , O frame of clay.
One day less— how soon , unnoticed ,Will the world its course pursue !One day less— a l ittle patienceThen eternal sleep for you .
One day less of pain and suffering ;One day less of power and fame ;On e day less of love devotedTide fast ebbing whence i t came.
1900
ENVY
Thy cursed mutterings make the heart unhappy ;Thy venomed sting strikes hatred in the mind ;Thou hybrid monster , with thy red eyes burn ingAnd feasting on the soul of humank ind .
The shallow dullard breathes thy breath seducingFrom plain contentment becks thy devil ish grin
,
Distorted pictures shows thy lying mirror,Voluptuous ease ,— but hides the worm within .
60
A! AR ICE
Cowering, thou sitt’
st with wh ite l ips thin ly spannmg
Thy hollow cheeks, whose ashen hue is death.Susp ici on drink thine ears, acutely l isten ing,For lurking fear instils the gui leless breath.
Compressed , thine eyel ids , whence the fretful glancesOf trustless pupils dart uncertain raysOf stony coldness, freez ing, l ike Medusa
’s,The hapless mortals chancing in their gaze.
Deaf is thy sense to suffering an d mi sfortune ;Mute is thy voice at pain ’s tormen ting cry ;Tearless , thine eyes heed not the orphan
’s weeping ;Rigid , thy features, at the w idow
’
s sigh.
Thy words grate harshly, l ike the hail-stones beat !mg
Their icy death on buds of trustful spring ;Or l ike the blast that scatters from the casementThe roses that, in hope ful beauty, cling.
Thy spider-fin gers grasp with famished trembl ingThe petty idol which thy breast adores,Whose barren heart coun ts, as it slowly pulseth,The vain possessions reckless fortune stores.
Sweet music to thee is the hollow j ingl ingOf pal try coins that chance strews in thy way,Gleaned from this earth that, mocking, wi ll re-echoTheir sound , when tumbl ing on thy worthless clay.1901
62
! UIEN SABE ?
What is it all — a smile, a hope, a tear ;Some j oy and some sorrow sown
,scattered ,
tweenHelpless in -ushered , —helpless del ivered ,A struggle for space and a fl itting unseen .
! uibbles and combats, fai th-guided , despairing,A whence and a whither, none dare to essay.A breath on the ocean of t ime that rolls ever,Unending and tideless , from day unto day.
What is i t al l -ask the flower that bloometh ,The insect, that w ingeth its brief , pathless fl ightBudding an d b reathing, breathing and dying,Trusting, or trustless , -day followed by night.
1900
RESEMBLANCE
Man oft is martyr to h is memory.0 calmed m ind tortured on the pyre of thought ,And heart tormented when
,undreamt
,unsought ,
Death’s prey by l i fe is imaged ! Agony
Dwells on the arched l ines of beauty’s brow,
And living l ips mock al l the tomb hath seal edWith time’s insensate clay. -Once more, revealed ,Eyes snatch their speech , and cruelly endow
Li fe’s soulful features from the grave’s dull stare,And paint with memory ’s brush the blanched cheekThe earth-worm ’s revel — deck , in radiance rare ,The charge of Azrael
,bidd ing mute l ips speak
“From shrouded regions,hollow-eyed despair
Averts the strong,with madness smites the weak.
1902
63
AD ASTRA ?
Earth , sun , and stars thou fathom’
st, and , elate,Thou dwell
’
st the thought-companion of thy sire ,The cave-bear’s tenant , ere Promethean fireConvulsed Olympus ’gainst the reprobate.
Deeper and deeper sti ll , to penetrateThe secrets of dead ages , thy desire ,But, with soul-trembling, to behold exp ireA race of theories sprung from high estate.
Ah , seest thou not Jehovah’s faith-reared throne
Loom vague on ruins that held ! eus and PhraCircled by home-sick ravens
,woe-begone ,
Kung-fut-se and Buddha,mute in speechless awe ,
And the meek Christ,in prayer upon h is knees
,
Humbly,before eternal mysteries.
1 906
MORS PALLIDA
Mysterious lord of absolute domainWhose realm looms vague beyond a sea of tears ,Upon whose borders
,more than mortal pain
Vents voiceless anguish —trembl ing hopes and fearsIn vain would grasp thee , who , wild fancy
’s flight ,Spurn
’
st from thy threshold , where existence bows ,Meekly submissive to thy will subl ime ,That bids descend the d ismal Shades of nightO ’er l i fe
,- brief offspring of ephemeral vows
Light breathes unconscious in the ear of time.
Why do men fear thee, who art passing just ?Saying nay to the mightiest, nought but nay,To helpless suckl ings, to unfathomed trustFa ith may instil , as to the worm ,
whose dayIn sightless struggle stirs dumb grains of sand
,
Yet shrinks thy presence,e ’en as wisdom quails
,
Guideless and palsied , at thine only word ,That hushes thought and mutes supreme commandInto imperishable sil ence, palesThe flush of being w i th its tones unheard .
When men saw gods with elemental eyeIn ocean wastes , in fire , storm , and cloud ,When rustl ing woods were oracl es , and highOn misty summ i t dwelt a merry crowdOf deities, delight of human mind ,Thou camest, a smil ing youth , on wings of air,Bearing thy message , and , wi th unseen hand ,Led
’
st forth thy choice,nor wert thou deemed un
kind,
Nor did men shun thee, ho-peless, or despair
Of thei r winged journey to the nether land .
Imaged Of'
creakin g bone and orbless stare ,Scythe-bearing, stol
’
st thou through the age of faith ,When dream s were mighty, and the midnight glareShot heavenly warnings , fitful boreal wraith ,Of wars and horror ; thou did
’st cut a swath,
World-wide with carnage , pestilence , and plague.Gloating thou stood ’st beside the gloomy pyre,Which superstit ion clawed from every pathWhere reason fled , and pitying hearts did ache,That deemed thee harvester for Satan’s fire.
The world hath changed , yet, stil l, all creaturesdread
Thine icy presence, thine unechoed call ,That chills l i fe
’
s stream , and , to their dreamless bed ,Consigns though t, action , pleasure , suffering, all.Nurtured of being, thou dost grow apace,The wax ing shadow of each earthly day,To hound thy quarry with un ceasing lust,Crowding its progress with e ’er lessening space ,Till l i fe succumbs to fate’s unequal fray,And thou hast conquered , and thy prey is dust.
66
NATURE
Ruby and sapphire line th’ renascent east,Dipping their splendor in the cool sea-waves,Charmed to meek quietude , thei r wrath appeast,’Neath placid coun t’n an ce, in deep-bosomed caves.And spires upli fted
, pi ercing vanquished haze,Responsive flame to day’s great golden eye ,Rising, omniscient, in eternal pow
’
r,
Whose light is l i fe, ablazeWith promise of unnumbered springs , the skyDivinely pure in nature’s hol iest hour.
Bird-notes l ie budding in the fragran t wood ;Robin and thrush intone thei r dulcet lays’Mid bosquets green , and , heavenward borne , a floodOf marv’lous music pours the lark , in praise ,Melodious joy from bliss-en raptured throat.Were care a fable , mythic , sorrows keen ,Could Flora’s children peep more fair arrayed ,O r music’s spi rit floatMore tranquil , soothing, on i ts wings unseen ,To nest in hearts , alike from sky and glade ?1901
TO A ROB IN
O happy spiri t of the summer air,That flood ’st wi th melody the sunl it day,Life
’
s very essence, burst from gladness rareSoothing sore hearts with thine entrancing lay.Waking, soft echoed , Childhood
’s vanished hour,Wi th wizard notes thou weav’st ethereal dreamsOf golden ray, rose cloud , and zephyr
’s breath.A wonderland , create of music
’s pow’
r,
Floats on thy voice, and , in its spi rit-beams ,Folds the freed soul , unstung by fli tting death .
Thou dwe l lest ’mid the swaying boughs on h igh ,Afar from care
’
s sod-cl inging , sad domain ;An d , with thei r realm th
’ i ll imitable sky,What heed thy p inions fate ’s earth-binding chain ?Thy sustenance is scattered at thy feet ,And toil thou know ’
st not, save when , l ight ofheart,
Thou gather’
st wind-blown offerings for thy nest,And , ever j oyful , pour
’
st thanksgiving sweetFor nature ’s bounty, wi th consummate art,Serene and modes t, from thy grateful breast.
1901
THE SEASONS
Gentle showers ; peeping flowers ;Verdan t meadows ; budding trees.Sunl ight bringing songsters singing,Soften ed azure, fragran t breeze.
Youthful , the spi rit born of the spring-time ;Modest, the smile that en chan teth the heart.Bright as the dew, at the daybreak, that gl istens,Visions and hopes , dreaming, guileless , their art.
Golden glowing ; radiance , sowingSunny pastures ; leafy shade.Wealth of pleasure, nature
’s treasure,Gorgeous color, bright arrayed .
Deep is the spirit of l iving summer ;Warm , the affection its drowsiness binds.Flashing, the glances , as l ightn ing that dan cesFitful along the horizon , and blinds.
Ceaseless longing ; memories thronging ;Tone of sadness ; fading leaves .Light un heatin g ; night repeatingStarry spl endor ; ! igorous eves.
Sad is the spirit of warning autumn ;Spectre of brill iancy, mournful its glow ;Chill ing the hopes that ambition had kindledBorn of the seeds
,that the heart dared to sow .
I
Desolate reaches ; barren beachesOn the frigid shores of T ifne.
White and cheerless , cold and tearless,Soulless branch and rigid cl ime.
Frosty , the Spiri t that bleak winter beareth ,Blasted and dismal , the emblem of dearth .
Roaring with tempests and wrapping, enshrouding,Cloak of oblivion o
’
er passionless earth .
1 900
NIAGARA
Sublime Niagara ! Could thy glory findBut human pen to plant thee in man ’s soulWith words th ine image — Ah , one only handBut that has w i thered with the poet bl indWho san g Of our first parents— could extolThy marvels fitly ; -and yon demon-bandThat rage thy rapids fearfully and grindMan ’s heart in awful whirlpool l— their controlNone might depicture, save the gravely-grandDead bard who, sad-faced , trod the S tygian land .
O thunderous voice that drown ’
st with solemn roarThe clamorous turbulence of maddened waves,Unleashed and desperate for resistless leapO
’
er time-yoked rocks , where ghostly mist dothsoar
72
A hovering spiri t from Titanic caves,Gnawed by thy ceaseless hunger— while, in sweep,White as stern winter, lashed by raging Thor,Hastes thy deep current
,Time hath craved and
cravesVain with its gran i te chains enslaved to keep ,S ince Nature roused from elemental sleep .
O , dost thou sing the red-man’s deathless dirge ?
Who came to worship at thy shrine subl ime,
When pale-faced greed an d cunning dwelt afar ;Great Spiri t
,whose defiant torrents surge
From Earth ’s beginning to its end of time !Lit by the new-born moon and day ’s one star
,
When frail canoe bore to thy fearful vergeA death kissed maiden , while , in mournful rhyme,Pleading for plenteous peace , victorious war,The death-chant floated weird from shory bar.
Or doth Jehovah speak h is thought through thee ?To fil l with wondrous awe dull mortal ear,Deafly entranced by thine o
’
erwhelming voice ,And roll , maj estic in subl imi ty,This cataractine tumult that , in fear,Men ! iew thy vastness , yet would fain rejoiceAt Hope ’s fai r rainbow o
’
er thy milky sea,
E ’en as He showed it to the aged seer,Whose bark alone was spared by Godly choiceWhen mank ind sank beneath its Maker’s curse.
Ah, what is man— who, feebly, dares essayTo grasp thy grandeur, wrought by Nature
’s hand ,Kin to fierce tempest and unbridled deep ,That smite our foothold in d isdainful sway !What hopes are wrecked— what plans bestrew the
strand
73
In ru ins, as curbless , while men wake or sleep,Th ’ unti ring moments, snatched by Time away,In pauseless rapids seek yon cl imax grandWhere heart-beats stop , an d whirl ing Fate doth
reapWhat Life hath sown , yet cannot save or keep .
So rush thou on , in peerless wild career,Tumbling vast torrents to th ’ insatiate sea,While Time shal l be and man may view thy might ;Speechless , may drink thy beauty, an d be nearTh e great, unfathomable mystery,That l inks unconscious mom with shrouded night ;Till mountains crash and heavenward shall rearChaotic fragments— as
,in agony,
Our Mother-Earth shall groan her final pl ight ,And dust insensate mark her erstwhile fl ight.
1902
EARLY SPRING
The sullen sky is gray wi th clouds,
The mist l ies on the sea ;An d , chill, the win d blows o
’er the wasteAnd smites the barren lea.
The earth is damp wi th fog and rain ;The trees are lank and bare ;And yet a strange, mysterious breathIs floating through the air.
The boat despo iler ’
s loath to y ield ,But wondrous powers striveTo swell the buds on tree an d bush ,An d burst death into l i fe.
74
The sun his lengthening course p ursuesAnd rouses slumbering dayTo earlier toi l , his summons beamsWith each increasing ray.
The birds are on their northward fl ight,Their notes hie on the breeze ;They bid the playful waves defyThe blast that made them freeze.
The heralds are a-wing, afloat,An d spring is their device,Whose smile, triumphant over death ,Melts winter’s heart of ice.
190 1
SPRING
In pra ise of Spring,AwakeningThe world from frosty sleep ;With j oy we ha i lThe snowdrops frail ,That from some shelter peep .
Again to l ive,An d thanks to giveFor bud and blade an d tree ;From death restored ,To touch a chordWith in our soul , with glee.
Ah , magic t ime ,When songs can cl imbEmpyreal heights, nor pause.Wh en love an ew,
With nought to rue,To heaven in rapture soars.
75
Should Ceres fail ,Of no availMight be Apollo ’s string.And Venus’ smileCould n one begu ile,But for the birth of Spring.
THE BROOK
Silently, pure ,Clear, un defiled ,Strong in its weakness
,
Nature’
s sweet child .
Murmuring,gently
,
Pebbles among,
Kiss ing green mosses,
Wood land ’s fair song.
Cleaving the granite,Turbulent spray ;Youth ’s lusty vigorReady for fray.
Gathering,bravely
,
Rills to i ts sideRushing wild torrent
,
H indran ce defied .
Wax ing in wisdom,
Slowing its pace ;Deeper and broader
,
Maj est ic i t sways .
Bearing its burden,
Dimmer its flow ;Vain to discoverSurface below.
76
O Sunday-stillness ! Nature spreadingHer loveliest gi fts to weary hearts :A radiant day, mild peace, fair flowers,And music, ere thy charm departs.
1 900
JUNE TWILIGHT IN TOWN
The children singing “London BridgeThe spa rrows ’ chi rp among the trees ;Afar, the rumbling of a train ;A steamboat ’s whistle on the breeze.
The hurried homeward strides of men ,At last from daily drudgery free,In twi l ight ’s cooling air
,suffused
With wafted breath from distan t lea .
More sweet endows eve ’s gathering shadeTh ’ unfolding rose , a rare old tune,The honeysuckle’s lavish wealth ,An d hearts grown l ight in wondrous June.1 901
NIGHT IN JUNE
On the waters gl istening,S ilvering leaf and blade
,
Shedding dreamy splendorO
’er the silent glade,In the peaceful heavensSails the orb of n ight,’Mid the gl ittering myriad ,Golden points of light.
78
Dewy blossoms, nodding,In thei r breeze fan n ed sleep ,Jessamine and rosesSnow and blushes deep.Hedges green , and giants ,Reared by nature’s care,Fostered by her bounty,Drink the balmy air.
Emerald swords,the rushes ,
Guard the tranquil shore,Laved by cooling ripples ,Gently wafted o
’
er.
Silver stars,the l il ies ,
Beam with golden eyes,Pour their sweetest fragranceFrom the mirrored sk ies.
S ilence , dreamy stillness ,Perfume
,peace an d rest
Nature’s gentle offering,
Bounteous , beauty—blest .Sighing branches
,swaying
In harmonious tune,
Lisping sounds of zephyrsHeavenly n ight in June.
SONG
Lonely, the moon my companion ,I stroll by the reed-bordered lake.Rustling, the trees , their weird music ;Elves
,all-enraptured
,awake.
79
Danc ing, fan tastic an d graceful ,S ilvery thei r slender forms sway.Over the waters come gl id ingNymphs fair
,in splash ing array
Past the dark branches a-fl ittin g,A spirit
,the whip-poor-will ’s note
Dream Of the dreamland of fancy,My soul , l ike a phantom ,
afloat.
Drowsily, fragrant blossoms ,Crimson
,and l il ies Of white
Hearken the strains that,enchanting
,
Summer breathes sweetly o ’er night.1900
DAYLIGHT AND STARLIGHT
When waning day ascends the mountain-topAnd leaves the imprints of her rosy feet
,
The sealed l ids from curious star-eyes dropAnd golden glan ces seek the monarch fleet.But mother n ight spreads out her dusky cloakAn d bids her children modestly to beam ,
And,lest they fear
,she l ights with magic stroke
Her silver lantern in the milky stream .
Yet , yearning still , the l ittle eyes are opeTo greet
,at dawn
,the queen that traceless sped ,
With ceaseless longing and undying hope ,Year in
,year out, by vain desire led .
For,when pure day steps from the flaming sea
,
Her dazzl ing splendor blinds the timid orbs ;Their sheltering lids must close unwill ingly,And l ingering shades her rad iant glance absorbs.
80
Thus vain the yearn ing of ambitious menTo grasp the brill ian ce of supremer mind ,Too late thei r waken ing and too slow their ' ken ,
With eyes unused to dazzling gifts that bl ind .Perchance, in twilight
’s haze to feebly shine,Their fate, or
,modest , beam through narrowed
night,With faint illuming, since the touch divineDen ied them , vain they crave creation
’s might.1 90 1
THE OCEAN
At Newport
O raging sea,in flaky showers break ing
Upon the rocks — O vast , unfettered soul !Whose crowding currents surge from pole to pole ,Augmenting, threatening, trembling, pausing, slak
mg.
Creatures Of chance,thine own maj estic waves
,
Some rol l superbly to the further shore ;Some yield their strength on granite spurs before
,
And feebly thei r embrace grim bowlders laves.
O restless spiri t , doomed to toss and surge,Mark ing the pulse—beats of immortal t ime ;In ever-changing aspect bearingThy countenance ,— thou roar
’
st a constant dirgeFor al l thy victims , seized in every clime,With ravenous greed , insat iate and unsparing.
1 886
FAREWELL TO THE MOUNTAINS
Farewell , unrivalled hills ,With all your sparkl ing rills
,
Whose ceaseles mirthGave gladsome birth
To golden moments and to bubbling thought.
Farewell , inviolate peaks,Where light inconstan t seeksI ts fitful moods to showGray mist and brill iant glow,
Move not your sturdy heart of granite wrought.
Farewell , ye legioned trees ,Whose myriad leaves releaseLife ’s breath to quickened air,And fill with essence rare
The craving lung and sti r l i fe ’s ruby stream.
Farewe ll , ye boundless skiesWith all your golden eyes ,Undimm ed by smoky haze,In glisten ing radiance gaze
On scenes unshorn by greed ’s defilin g scheme.
Farewell,sweet nature pure ,
That,fearless ,
‘ canst endureThe serpent—l ightning
’
s flash ,The rending thunder
’
s crash ,The grasping freshet and the cloudburst
’
s roar.
Farewell ,— but not for ayeI hai l the unborn day,When
,free an d unrestrained ,
From town and toil unchained ,O ’er cumbrous care my soul again shall soar.
1 901
82
SUNSET
Sunset—Mild zephyrs woo the yearn ing boughs,Sweetened with song from elm and purpling copse,Rustl ing, in imitably soft, thei r vows ,Cool ing sti ll dal es and pearl-veiled mounta in-tops.
A lonely cloud l ies dream ing o’
er the haze,Floating, in silen ce , smiles an d tears above ,Light as the soul es caped li fe’s torturous maze ,Earth ’sl soi l-sprung offspring clasped by heaven ’s
ove.
Dazzl ing, descending Phoebus flames his way,Golden god-monarch of the blazing car,Beckoning chaste Dian ’s virgin, silvered sway,Crowning the west with Love’s fai r even ing star.
1901
REMEMBRANCE
Across the sea, ac ross the ebbing tideOf years , a happy , happy home I seeFond parents , a babe , and , at his mother
’
s knee,A little boy, red-checked , and dreamy—eyed.
O happy home ! fond love — O hope deniedUnbidden came a guest , and mute was heTo pray
’
rs and tears , and wrested ruthlesslyThe noblest mother from her loved ones
’
side.
My mother ! Time’s receding tide has borneThy dear voice far beyond my longing ear,Thine image faded , but stil l , unforlorn ,Thy love abides with me, and ever nearThy blessing has been lingering, since the n ightWhen heav’n disclosed its beauty to thy sight.
1 9 1 1
RESURRECTION
Though thou art dead , yet is my thought thy tomb ,Whence dreams arise to give thee l i fe, forsooth,In wondrous resurrection of thy youth,With al l i ts hopes and strivings— through the gloom
Of orphaned years , an d blot the silent urnFrom anguished memory — I again beholdThe hearty man , with courage firm and bold ,On life ’s rough journey , with deep learning earn
The grudged reward to sacrifice that standsBy man in sore d istress ; that heals the woundOf combat , and , with wise and patien t skill ,Wards off the foe that knocks with fleshless hands.O faithful father ! —in thy love I foundLi fe
’
s burdens l i fted , healed its every ill .19 1 1
87
TO MY WIFE
Upon me rests the magi c of thine eyesIn dreamy splendor, for their sparkling l ightBedims the stars of silent winter-night ,That steeped thy tresses in its ebon guise.
Upon thy velvet checks the warm blush hiesFrom envious rosebuds , and the soft del ightOf cloudless cl imes endows thy features brightWith sunl i t tint of bl issful paradise.
The lark its silver notes bestowed on theeThy voice melodious charmed my yearning soulAnd lulled our babes with gentle lullaby.O , may thy sunny spirit e
’
er controlOur destiny, and thou , with counsel wise ,Give me, dear love, the guidance of thine eyes !
19 1 1
WANDERLUST
To H . N. K.
O restless roamer l— hath no charm for theeThe peace of hom e, the warm , inviting hearth ?Th at thou must wander, nomad-l ike, on earth ,A bird of passage , wilful-winged , and free !
What stran ge ancestral power may it beThat drives thee on— from sober toil and mirth ,To spum thy home, the city of thy birth ,And e’en thy parents ’ sheltering roof fo flee ?
88
O Wanderlust -through generations thrivesThine elemental strai n
,and heedless roam
The knights of brush , of song, and minstrelsy !World-wisdom marks the sphere for normal l ives,But to the artist al l the world is home,And in our thoughts , dear son , we roam with thee. ,
1 9 1 1
TO MY DAUGHTER
Like snowy blossom warmed by morn in May,A little face
,—illumed by lustrous eyes ,
So innocent,yet twinkl ing, strangely-wise
Enframed in raven floss,soft-pillowed lay.
Our home ’s own sunshine, —ever bright and gayWith happy baby-talk
,as oft she tries
To stand,—but falls ,— yet laughs , —at last to rise
On tiny feet , and run the l ivelong day.
O dearest Helen ! how those memories cheerThese sober hours
,when I see thee stand ,
My little maid , with features , fai r and clear,And those dark eyes , become a lady grand ,Whose love, whose joyful spi ri t , and whose smileB id time to pause for me
,and rest awhile.
1 9 1 1
TO MY SON EDGAR
Indifferent thousands fl itted past , n or triedTo leave an impress on my ardent mind ;But some , with souls responsive , strove to findTheir way into my heart , and there abide.
Yet treasured most,those who, by blood all ied ,
Are k in to me, an d to my trust consigned .O ’er them my love shall watch , and firmly bindThe bonds by fate, by chance, or nature tied .
89
O thou , my son , who always hast been trueTo thine own sel f , as thou wast true to me ;With love and k indness striving e ’er to doA good son ’s part
,e ’en from thine infancy,
The kindred spark , that ties—I find in theeThy soul to mine for all eternity.
1 9 1 1
JUNE CH ILD
When to their highest goal the steeds of Phoebusrose
And poured thei r qu ick’
n in g fire on craving earth ,An infant soul
,ath irst for mortal b irth ,
In our baby-boy its human dwell ing chose.
Sweet June caressed the babe with sunn iest smile ;She bathed his t iny form in fragrant spray,And , showering rosy petals where he lay ,She bade soft-zephyrs nurse his sleep the while.
O black-eyed boy ! bright be thy dest iny !Who lov
’
st fair nature with receptive heart .May cl imaxed Phoebus
,ever spurring thee ,
In science gu ide thee , an d inspire in art.For thee , rare June her loveliest roses twine ,Her spirit pure, breathe gently over thine.19 1 1
TO MY SISTER
One home once knew us. —In our Childhood ’sWe shared the joys , the sorrows , as they cameInto our l ives, and e
’er the holy flameOf love burned brightly
,l it by kinship ’s ray.
90
We ’re severed now—divergent runs the wayIn l ife ’s stern duties — but our parents’ nameWill l ink us ever, mutual interest claim ,
While God permits our lessening earthly stay.
Dear Helen — well I know that, though apartThrough l ife we wander, and oft void and coldThe world may seem , yet warm , in fai thful heartStill l ives the spark which li t those days of old.
Our j oys quench not the flame of long ago ;Our sorrows fan it but to brighter glow.
19 1 1
GUIDANCE
To Edgar
’Tis coward fear that makes men slaves to power,That bids them kneel to idols
,mean and base,
Or join in clamorous turbulence, to raiseMad mob-rule’s standard for its on e brief hour.
Some envy lures, and many victims cowerBefore glib tongue -with smil ing, unguent waysThe hypocrite o
’er mindless mortals sways ;E ’en sober judgment may des ign devour.
DO what is right and fear no mortal foe !But ’ware deceit ; trust not the winn ing smile.And , i f the evil challenge , fearless goAnd falsehood smite , and crush des igning guile !As I have known thee, so the world shall knowThat thou art true, and can
’st give blow for blow.
19 1 1
9 1
WOMAN ’
S SPHERE
ToMy Dizughter H elen
Fair is the maid whom nature kindly gaveThe gentle smi le, her modest maiden-way,Sweet grace, a heart awake to noble swayIn deeds of kindness , e
’er alert and brave.
To man abhorrent , strides , w ith wrinkles grave,The new man-woman ,— poring, nigh t and day,O
’er learned volumes, to assert her say,By intellectual force make man her slave.
My child ! let nature be thy loving guide,Through l i fe’s ordeals she wil l lead thee wise ;And ask thy heart its counsel to provide ,I f doubts becloud , the world deceive thine eyes .Man ’s proper sphere , and woman
’s were reveal’
d
By God ’s own laws , which nature stamp’
d andscal ’d .
19 1 1
TO SADIE C.
Maiden , whose gentle smileLendeth me peace ;In thy sweet presenceSorrow must cease.
Maiden,thy dreamy eyes,
Winning my heart ,Seem to say softly“Ne’er shal l we part .
Maiden , thine image fairLives in my dreams.All past affl ictionsThy being redeems.
92
N IGHT AND DAY
! To S . C.)
I am Night, and love and sadnessReign within my yearning breast ;But its veiling melan cholyYieldeth dreams and gentl e rest.
Thou art Day, thy smiles are sunbeamsShedding golden radiance
’round ;Roses bright adorn thy bosom ,
And w ith j oy thy brow is crown ed.
Night and Day must wed , sweet be ing !Mirth must sink to calm repose ,Gathering stren gth for new effulgence ;Light on care i ts spark bestows.
Rosy mom and golden twi l ightFrom their fond embrace wi ll spring.Night and Day, in happy un ion ,Forth rare thoughts and j oy shal l bring.
1 886
SLUMBER SONG
To My Li ttle Daughter H elen
Rest, dear child ! May an gels , gently,Guard thee in thy peace ful sleep,And no anxious dreams oppress thee,Loving sp irits vigi l keep .
Rest, dear child ! May glorious v isionsFloat around thee, pure and sweet,And thy son ],on fancy
’
s p in ions,Al l thou loy ’st most dearly, greet.
94
Rest,dear child ! I
’m watching by thee,Faithful , with a father
’s care.May the good Lord ever shield thee ,Guide thee always , maiden fair.1 895
MEETING—PARTING
Meeting : —O golden lightStream s from the vernal sky ;Gently, soft zephyrs playLove surely cannot d ie !
Parting : —O dismal day ;Low hangs the sombre cloud ;Strewing, the moaning wind ,Dead leaves— Earth
’
s funeral shroud .
Ways of this changing world ,Man ’s proud domain ,
Lord , he, an d slave alikeFate rules the twain .
CONSERVATISM
Two birds met at the close of dayAnd sought the sel f-same place of restOne from the Orient
,far away,
The other from the youthful West.
They sang their even ing songs and toldOf all the scen es they loved the best ;But with the morrow they had to partOne came from the East , and on e from the West .
Th ey met,and gladly would have stayed ,
And been a happy,well-matched pair
But then , five thousand years ago,Their S ires san g not the se l f-same air.
1 886
95
MY MOTHER
I long for the love of my mother,The guide of my youthful day ;The loving mother who kissed me
,
As on her warm bosom I lay.
Away has she passed , and forever,I see her now only in dreams .Her voice soundeth
‘ nevermore cheering ;Her smile on me nevermore beams.
Alas,l ike the Spring ’s tender flowers
,
She sank to a cold , early grave.I weep , when the thought comes o
’er meHow kindly my faults she forgave.
At night , when , thus sad , I am think ing,An d wishing the dead might return
,
I fancy my mother is sigh ing,The cause of my sorrow to learn .
1 880
VANISHED
The door-way is vacant , a spirit is gone,The stars and the moon from the heavens are flown .
And a moment of j oy, a brief , fanciful dreamHas vanished forever in Lethe ’s dark stream.
O,beauty endures not, and happiness dies
Ere the soul to its perfect enj oyment can rise.When the sunbeams the realm of the night-born
invade,The sweet rose begin n eth to wither an d fade.
96
SO my trust and my hope are shattered and fled ;A wraith hovers dim o
’
er the haunts of the dead .A face and a Spirit have vanished in gloomWhere violet sprang
,the pal e moonwort shall
bloom .
1 885
AT MOONRISE
When the white moon , slowly ris ing,Veils the earth in spectral glare,Then I think of those departed ,And for them ascends my pray
’
r.
For I have not e ’er forgottenHow dear voices cheered my heart
,
How warm hands were clasped in friendship ,And how
'
soon we had to part.
Though my Old hopes all be van ished ,And , with them , l i fe
’s joy and care ,When I see the white moon rising
,
For those gone ascends my pray’
r.
1 885
WHEREFORE ?
The sun shines from the azure sky,
The birds sing love, the brook goes by,Murmuring sweet lullaby
,
And happy, oh, thrice happy am IWherefore ? Wherefore ?
The clouds are gloomy the heavens o ’er,
The rain in streams its flood doth pour,
And sorrow fills my breast once more,
Oh sad , unspeakably sad am IWherefore Wherefore ?
1 885
97
VANITAS
’Twas but too brief,— a swee t, a fleeting dream ,
Too beauti ful to last ;As heavenly visions to the poet seem ,
A gl impse— forever pas t.
An angel veiled , the halo of the blest,I ts charms too pure for mortal eye ;Divine fulfillmen t of a hope exprest,An instant born— to die.
Ah , Fate ! who would attempt to change thy course ?Vain soarer to the pe rfect realms of l ight,By passion spurred , then torn by grim remorse ;Kissed by the sun , to be enrobed in n ight !1 885
THE MAIDEN ’
S LAMENT
O , why are you mocking my sorrow ?I cry to your roll ing surgeYour answer— monotonous roaring,Your solace, —a heartless d irge.You come from the earth ’s furthest regions ;Your waves bear no message , false sea.O , what have you done to my darl ing ?You bring him not back to me.
I ’ve wa tched you at daybreak , when slumberCam e not to my weary eyes ;I ’ve watched you at sunset’s fai r promise,With hope emblazed on the skies .You tossed l ike a creature in anguish ,Like a soul tormented
, 0 sea ;But vain were my tears , my beseechingYou brough t him not back to me.
98
I ’ve stood in the moonl ight consol ing,An d peered o
’
er your silvered waste,Where weird shapes uncanny seemed dancingAnd fl itt ing in ghostly haste.You gl i ttered and sparkled deceptive ;You moaned and you laughed , as in glee.My heart broke wi th vain supp l icationYou brought him not back to me.
When winter ’s fierce tempests were howling ,I fled not the gale or snow ;In hurrican e ’s shrieking and terrorI stood alone with my woe.You thun dered enraged , and threaten ingYou roared , O merciless sea ;But wi th all your fury and dash ingYou h im not back to me.1901
SATAN ’S COMMENTSWARS , STRIKES , LOCKOUTS , ETC.
“When men fall out and can ’ t agree ,Thrice ha iled the glorious chance for me !I l ight the fires of sp ite and hate ;I loose the tongues to boast and prateTo stubborn nes s I goad the mule ;I prick the brains Of knave an d fool.
When men fal l out for greedy fight,O pleasure mine ! 0 rare del ight !My turn to harvest many a soulWhose better nature lost control .Mine al l ies kind , ye passions fierce ,Be than ked for bursts that cut an d pierce.
“When men fall out and won’t give in
How rich my dragnet proves in sin !I turn my nose at pseudo proof ;On man
’
s pretension set my hoof ;I snap my fin gers in their faceWho man ’s development would trace.
“When men fal l out an d get apart,0 triumph mine o’er trustful heart !I strangle gasping common-sense ;I thrust my fork through faith intense ;And , from my blaz ing judgmen t seat,I vote concession but a cheat.”
When men fall out, I laugh in glee ;With keenest pleasure suffering seeThe wr etched beings , who have no shareIn quarrels, meek their burdens hear:I saddle troubles on their back,Their l ives with care and pain attack.
03
When men fall out, then wildly rageMy fiercest hel l-hounds on the stage
,
Where some, with mock-heroic mien ,An d some , with comic mask, are seen ;While blank amazement , as a rule,Betokes the great unthinking school .
“When men fall out and angels sigh ,While virtues crushed to heaven cry,I en ter on triumphant swayAnd lead my host in brave array.With envy , rancor, wrath , and strifeI prove the vanity of l ife.”
I9O3
THE ROAD TO SUCCESS FOR THEMODERN POET
Shun simpl icity ;Woo duplici ty ;
Twist and invert to thy heart ’s content.Speak enigmatical ;Seem problematical ;
Leave it to wi sdom a key to inven t.
Aim to be serious ,Veiled and mysterious.
Learn to devise a symbol ic refrain .
Flee all plain—speaking,Serpent-l ike sneaking,
Creeping, and crawling the laurel will gain .
Truthful be sparely ;Miss the nail squarely,
Stroking thy words at a leisurely pace.Truckle to fashion ;Screen fiery passion ,
Critics to please, who will gran t thee the race.104
You speak of your mercy, my blood-thirst decry ,To vie with your era all Others defy,In grac e, and in prowess , in j ust ice , and fame,Your praise with your brazenest trumpe ts proclaim.
“ I l ived as you l ive, and the human heartCannot be transformed by fit and by start.I fought as you fight, and my heroes were greatAs any you offered to crown an d to state.”
“ I thought as you think, and the human mindIs riven by doubts and by prej udice bl ind .I slaughtered for faith, an d you slaughter for gain ,And death is but death
,though of names he bear
twain .
”
You swear by your culture and , madly, you pace,I f need be, destroy an obstructive race.I ate, when I hungered , of human flesh ;Your quarry hangs l imp in your trade-woven mesh.
“ I worsh ipped the sun and I tolled the hell ;I peopled the heavens and rancorous hell .You ransack the sky, and the stars you hand down ,Mere ciphers
,to puzzle both scholar an d clown .
”
“Your com fort for body, your haste for the mindThe soul to its earthly abiding place bind ;You cl ip its apt wings and you hem its rapt fl ightTo the luminous orbs of the olden night .”
“Yet day follows day , and the time, too, shall beWhen your breed wi ll scoff you , as you now scoff at
me.For pride meets i ts doom in its surfeit and age,When the Author of All turns the sel f-sated page .
I9O3
106
MODERN WAR
Addressed to the Chr istian Nations
Ye, who wage war in honor’s name,
And strive wi th valorous deed for fame ;Who save the suffering, spare the weak,An d never cruel vengean ce wreak,Will hea r the plaud its of the world ,An d praise
'
where’er your flag’
s un furl’
d .
An d ye, defen ders of your land ,No matter where your home may stan d ,No matter what your race may be,By despot ruled , or sovereigns freeWho can den y your homage true,An d blessings on your courage, too ?
But ye, who fight but to en slaveOr , proselyting, souls to save,Who thrust your faith and power where,Content, a people say their pray
’
r,
Are fitter for Mohammed ’s band ,With sword and Koran in your han d .
This is the twentieth century,The nations’ eyes are ope to see.
Beware, i f, in the Saviour’s name,
You put the Christ ian world to shameWith lust and plunder, greed an d painYou cruci fy your Christ again .1901
107
SIC
With knowledge armed , rare sci ence bequeathed ,Electric haste of skillful aidThe sooth ful anaesthet ic breathed ,Excision antiseptic made.
This gun shoots fifteen hundred timesWithin on e minute
’s thoughtless reignTo purify earth
’
s narrowing cl imes,And travail prove a thankless pain.
Were Jove al ive, methinks, a roarOf laughter would Olympus rock,And l ichened Pan ’s awakening snoreFull nineteen centuries ’ progress mock
In sav ing and slaying.1901
THE WHITE MAN ’S PRIVILEGE
Luke vi , 3 1
I f the skin be white, e’en wrong is righ t,
A man ’s a patriot and hero ;Though he lie and cheat , and grasp and beat,And his honest aims be zero .
For color can ne ’er make a man ,Nor love of home engender.The brain ’s too small to break the thrall ,Saint Progress cries :
“Surrender !”
Hypocrisy, no ken of theeHave backward , simple races.Wi th Fai th , a cloak, a l ightning stroke,The sword its pathway blazes.
108
Waist-deep, in ambien t eternity’s waters ,Standeth, gigantic, Old scrubwoman Time ,Drowning, unceasing, her sons and her daughters,Murmuring forever her p i t iless rhyme
“Rags an d rubbish ; rubbish and rags ,Rags and rubbish ; rubbish and rags .
1902
WAR, A. D. , 1 900—PEACE , A. D. i‘
l,‘Ready ! Charge bayonets ! Forward“Rush them and cut ’em down !What i f the shrapnel tear ye,Hell and perd i tion frown ?”
“Blood —ugh ! i t spurts all overThe devil —h is face gone , ye say ?That reek ing mass yonder— his body ?
Forward , —to hell , to—day !”
“Smoke , and flashes , and crashes,Roaring, and clattering dinA racket— Old N ick is command ing,And Heaven seems caving in .
”
“Slay, and be slain— for honorKill , an d be k illed— for gain ,Fight , and d ie for your country ;Life be not l ived in vain.”
“God ?
” d ’ye say, and Courage ?”
Whate’
er your home may be,Whether a savage heathen ,Or Christian-born , and free,
1 10
Whatever tongue ye rant in ,Where’er your cradle stood ,Listen— some folks cal l i t murderTo shed your fellow
’
s blood .
Of course, i t’s taken for granted
It ’s proper and right to slayIn war — Only piti ful cowardsThis statement dare gainsay.
But the mighty Lord in Heaven!Whom ye more or less bel ieveWhether your sk in be white or yellowYour course may watch with grief.
For He ’s fashioned ye all in H is imageAnd made ye men , not beasts ;He ’s given ye heads to think with,To shun such gory feasts.
Your mother,who suffered to bear ye ,
Who watched ye with every care,Did surely not want ye to murder,To save ye from harm was her pray
’
r.
Ye ’re men , first of all , human beings ,And it ’s men ye are called on to slay
,
Men , who should all be your brothers ,Yet who
’
re ready to kill ye to-day.
Pity ,— that yet are not wiped outBoundaries, color, and creed ,Racial d istinctions and id ioms
,
Narrow ideas and greed .
Pity— this globe isn ’t larger,
With greater abundance Of grainThat gold is a metal that gl i tters ;That loss is contrasted wi th gain.
I I I
I f ye were nearer the angels,Had less of the spiri t for fray ;I f the beast
,that still cl ings to ye,
Would leave your mortal clay,
There might be time for talk ingOf peace an d brotherhood ;But love ’s sweet milk is wastedOn savage th irst for blood .
1 900
TRUSTS
We trust in God ! The Trust trusts not
Trustee of our weal and woe .
The Lord ’s great bounty he forgotThe Trust so wi lls , and it be so.
We trust in God ! and He hath breathedWithin our soul the sense of right ;Some spark of Sinai ’s fire bequeathedIn righteous cause our way to l ight .
We trust in God ! The time draws nighWhen His command we shal l obey,And trustless trusts , unwept , shall die ,And universal trust hold sway.1900
MANLY SPORT
First blood ! Hurrah— the ruby streak !Great Scott — j ust see that st inging blow !
Another ! Look — he reels , he fallsMy
,what a fist ! that laid him low.
”
1 1 2
Of course’t is Rome ,—say A. D. on e,
When heathen rites held godless sway ;Or bloody an d ben ighted Spain ,When she, alone, did crave Cathay.
Why no, good friend , look’r0und , or read
The papers, and rejoice to seeYour chance , at home -United S tates ,Progressive twentieth century !1 901
THE POET
He ’s quite a useless fellow,
That fellow what writes them rhymes.He ain ’t worth a cent in pol it ics,And acts queer at sundry times .
He ’s careless about his dressin ’
,
And don’ t give the barber a show.
He can’
t make a decent l ivin ,’
And is rather unusual slow.
His views is always contraryHe don ’t see the good in a deal ;He
’
ll never, I’
m sure , make h is fortune ;And he says to graft is to steal .
When other folks talk , he’s quiet,
And dreams hal f his l i fe awayAbout human possib il it ies ,While we go a makin ’ hay.
He sees splendor in the sunl ightWhen we others feel blazin ’ hot ;And when i t comes to the moonshine
,
A mania, by gosh , he’
s got.
1 14
I wouldn ’t employ him a clerkin’
,
At two-and-a-hal f per week.H e couldn ’ t manage a shovel ,Of ploughin
’v ouldn
’
t speak.
He’s down on lyuchin ’ and baitin’
,
An d he must be color-bl ind ,When he says he sees no d iff’ren ceIn the make-up of all mankind .
When it comes to trade an d expansion ,He ’s nowhere up
-to-date ;And he’s got scruples and outlandish notionsAbout our progressive fate.
When we tal k of usin’ our elbows
And the greatest philosopher cite ,He says “the survival of fittestMay be true, but it isn
’ t right.
He don ’ t j o in in spreadin’ the eagle
And boastin ’ what we can do!He’l l come with his dreams of milleniumAnd peace, that never come true.
I’
m sure I’
ve no use for that fellow,
That fellow what makes them rhymes ;He
’
s out with all practical notions,And never quite up to the times.
For one thing, though , I’ll give him credit,
I’
ve never known, h im to cheat ;But when it comes to o
’
erchargin’
,
He’
s a deuce of a cuss to beat.1900
1 1 5
LE GRAND TOUR
Get the children ready, Bess ie ;Have the carriage at the gate ;See that all the trunks are fastened ,For the steam er sails at eight.
Six days on the proud Atlant ic ;Seven weeks in smil ing France ,With the loveliest time in Paris ,Where the hours and minutes dance.
Then for Germany’
s gray castlesOn the dreamy, sunl it Rhine ;Sweet “
Gemuethl ichkeit,”
an d RoemersBrimmed with golden , sparkl ing wine.
Switzerland ’s cloud-piercing summitsIn thei r cloak of gl i ttering snow,
We’
l l ascen d , and drink, at twilight ,Rapture and the alpine glow.
Slowly, then , we’ll search the garden ,
Europe’
s flowery paradise ,Milan , Florence , Rome and Naples ,Art an d beauty feast our eyes .
As the season wanes , we’ll travel
O’
er the blue and tranquil sea ;Taste of Turkey
’s real coffee,Up the Nile steam leisurely.
Sphinx and Pyramids we’ ll visi t,
With a side-trip to Khartoum,
Then embark, and sail for Jaffa,Through the Holy Lan d to roam .
1 16
SONGS CH ILDHOOD
SUMMER
In the east the sun is glowing,Hear the rooster sound his note
Cock-a-doodle-dooWho is going now a-mowing ?Golden-ripe the wheat is growing,
Cock-a—doodle-doo
In the leafy coverts h idden ,S ings the cuckoo-bird its song
Cuckoo,Cuckoo !
And the curious boys,unbidden ,
Seek the paths,by thorns forbidden ,
Cuckoo , Cuckoo !
Round the barn , the swallows flying ,Swiftly darting, ever chi rp . :
Cheew it, Cheew it !
On their graceful wings relying,Like a band of air—sprites , crying
Cheewit, Cheew it !
Out of doors, the ch ildren playing ;Shouts of pleasure fill the ai r '
Heigho , Heigho !Summer’s beck ’n ing glad obeying,O
’
er the sun l it pastures straying,
Heigho , Heigho !
AUTUMN
Gone are the flowers , the b ird ies have flown,
Grey clouds in the sky by the chill ing wind blown .
But Nancy and Harry sk ip over the field,
In glee at the sports that the season W i l l yield .
122
’Tis the t ime of ripe chestnuts , of apples , a store,With a peep at Thanksgiving and pop-corn galore.How it braces , this ai r of the bounti ful fall ,Red cheeks , j oyous laughter, while chasing the bal l .
1 898WINTER
Come , my l ittle darl ing Nell ,Golden-haired
,come hither.
Fair, the story I shal l tell ,Spite the dreary weather.
When the snow lies, soft and white ,All the ground enwrapping ;Where the nothern -l ight shines brightSanta is not napp ing.
And for l ittle gi rls and boysWho have been behaving
,
0 what wondrous gi fts and toysSanta Claus is saving.
At the dawn of Christmas morn ,All the stock ings swell ingWi th the good th ings , hither borneFrom dear Santa’s dwell ing.
Joy to every l ittle on eAt sweet Christmas bringing ;Happy day of gifts an d fun ,
Day of love an d singing.1898
123
II. GAMES
PLAYING BALL
Here’s the bal l , -now watch it , Harry,S trai ght i t soars into the airCatch it ! don ’t be ’ fraid or tarry,You ’re a clever boy, for fair.
Chorus
On e, two, three ! D’
you see it fly,
Almost way up to the sky ?
Down it comes— n ow, don’
t be rash
Good ! -you
’
ve caught it l ike a flash .
Upon again l— you must be ready,Not so h igh , but swift and true,Here it goes , for l ittle Freddy,With his faithful eyes of blue.
And once more —so far it’s rising,Run in
,nimble Will ie l— there ,
That ’s a ball , -there’s no despisingFor that boy with auburn hair.
1 898 .
SK IPP ING TH E ROP E
Turn the rope ; turn the rope lOne
, two, three ; one, two, three.And I jump so gracefully,One
,two, three ; one, two, three.
Never miss my turn , I hope ,One
,two three ; one, two, three.
Whirl ing ever fai thfully,One
, two three ; on e, two, three.
124
PLAYING TAG
You art it; you are itCatch me , i f you can !Over stones and fencesRun
,my l ittle man .
Never touched me, n ever .
Run wi th all your might,An d I ’l l always dodge you ,Till I ’m out of sight.
Thought you had me, did you ?’Guess you ’re wrong this time.Now I ’l l try a-walking,While the hill you cl imb.
My, but you came n earlyTagging me, for fairAt the post I
’l l meet you ,Yonder—over there .
H IDE AND SEEK
Are you ready, al l of you ?
Ready ! Ready ! Ready !Now I ’ ll fi nd you , sure, I doSteady ! Steady ! S teady !
I n the pantry on e must be! uiet be , oh sissy !Some one's h iding there, I seeRun , my l i ttle missy !
And behind the kitchen doorHa l I guess he
’
s found me.Touch the mark upon the floor !You walked all around me.
126
II I. W'
EE FOLKS
FAMILIAR ! OICES
Can you tell me, l i ttle fellow,
How the rooster crows at morn,Dressed in red and green and yellow,
Greeting, loud the day, j ust born ?Cock-a-dood le-doo!
And the bird that, in the forest,Leaves its nest and fl ies away,That some foster-mother birdieBy the li ttle ones must stay ?
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
When at eve—now l isten , sonnyBy the barn they swi ftly fly,To and from their nests so bonnie,What do speed ing swallows cry ?
Cheew itl Cheewit!
After dark, when all are sleeping,With her glowing eyes so bright,How does pussy, steal thy creeping,Break the stillness of the night ?
Meow ! Meow !
DOLL SONG
Good morning, l ittle doll ie ;I hope you ’ve ' slept all righ t ,For I have been a-dreamingOf you the long, dark night.
Chorus
Dear little dollie, my darling,You a lways smile so true .
I n ever will, n ever n eglect you,
My dollie, I surely love you .
My see, how you look drowsy ;I ’ll comb your fluffy hair ;An d I must wash you , darl in g,To make you bright and fair.
Right after breakfast, dollie,I ’m going to wheel you out,Tugged n icely in your ca rriage,For you must be about.
We’l l cal l on pa and mamma,On baby brother too ;For I am sure he loves you ,As all children do.
1 28
