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Shapes and shadows : poems / by Madison Cawein. Cawein, Madison Julius, 1865-1914. 400dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Kentucky, Electronic Information Access & Management Center Lexington, Kentucky 2002 b92-188-30610123 Electronic reproduction. 2002. (Beyond the shelf, serving historic Kentuckiana through virtual access (IMLS LG-03-02-0012-02) ; These pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Shapes and shadows : poems / by Madison Cawein. Cawein, Madison Julius, 1865-1914. R.H. Russell, New York : 1898. 77 p. ; 20 cm. Coleman Microfilm. Atlanta, Ga. : SOLINET, 1994. 1 microfilm reel ; 35 mm. (SOLINET/ASERL Cooperative Microfilming Project (NEH PS-20317) ; SOL MN04382.10 KUK) Printing Master B92-188. IMLS This electronic text file was created by Optical Character Recognition (OCR). No corrections have been made to the OCR-ed text and no editing has been done to the content of the original document. Encoding has been done through an automated process using the recommendations for Level 1 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file. MADISON CAWEIN Under the Stars and Stripes. High on the world did our fathers of old, Under the stars and stripes, Blazon the name that we now must uphold, Under the stars and stripes. Vast in the past they have builded an arch Over which Freedom has lighted her torch. Follow it! Follow it! Come, let us march Under the stars and stripes ! We in whose bodies the blood of them runs, Under the stars and stripes, We will acquit us as sons of their sons, Under the stars and stripes. Ever for justice, our heel upon wrong, We in the light of our vengeance thrice strong! Rally together! Come tramping along Under the stars and stripes! Out of our strength and a nation's great need, Under the stars and stripes, Heroes again as of old we shall breed, Under the stars and stripes. Broad to the winds be our banner unfurled! Straight in Spain's face let defiance be hurled! God on our side, we will battle the world Uinder the stars and stripes! MADISON CAWEIN. From " Poems of American Pairiotism," selected by R. L. Page/. This page in the original text is blank. This page in the original text is blank. S h a p e s S h a d o w s This page in the original text is blank. S H S H A D O w S Po E M S by Madison Cawein Russell A p E S and NEW YORK: R. H. MDCCCXCN I II Ciprght, 1898, by R. H. 1ussell To HARRISON S. MORRIS This page in the original text is blank. A Table of Contents Trhe Evanescent Beautiful I August 2 The Higher Brotherhood 4 Gramarye 5 Dreams 7 The Old House 8 The Rock J o Rain 12 Standing-Stone Creek 13 T'he Moonmen 15 The Old Man Dreams '9 Since Then 20 Comrades 21 JJaiting 23 Contrasts 24 In J7une 25 Xfter long Grief and Pain 26 Can Iforget ' 27 The House of Fear 28 Xt Dawn 29 Storm 30 Memories 31 Which 32 Sunset in Autumn 34 The Legend of the Stone 36 C o n t e n t s Time and Death and Love 40 Passion 4! When the Wine-Cup at the Lip 42 Art 43 A Song for Old Age 45 Tristram and Isolt 46 The Better Lot 47 Dusk in the Woods 48 At the Ferry 50 Her Violin 52 Her Vesper Song 54 At Parting 55 Carissima Mea 56 Margery 59 Constance 6I Gertrude 63 Lydia 64 A Southern Girl 65 A Daughter of the States 66 An Autumn Nifght 67 Lines 68 The Blind God 69 A Valentine 70 A Catch 71 The New Year 73 Then and Now 75 Epilogue 76 The Dedication Ab, notfor us the Heavens that hold GOD'S message of Promethean fire! The Flame that fell on bards of old To hallow and inspire. ret let the Soul dream on and dare No less SONG's height that these possess: JYe can but fail; and may prepare She way to some success. This page in the original text is blank. Shapes Shadows By Madison Cawein THE EVANESCENT BEAUTIFUL. AY after Day, young with eternal beauty, Pays flowery duty to the month and clime; Night after night ereats a vasty portal Of stars immortal for the march of Time. But where are now the Glory and the Rapture, That once did capture me in cloud and stream Where now the Joy that was both speech and silence Where the beguilance that was fac and dream I know that Earth and Heaven are as golden As they of olden made me feel and see; Not in themselves is lacking aught of power Through star and flower-something's lost in me. Return ! Return! I cry, 0 Visions vanished, 0 Voices banished, to my Soul again!- The near Earth blossoms and the far Skies glisten, I look and listen, but, alas! in vain. [i] Shapes d5 Shadows August. I CLAD on with glowing beauty and the peace, C Benign, of calm maturity, she stands Among her meadows and her orchard-lands, And on her mellowing gardens and her trees, Out of the ripe abundance of her hands, Bestows increase And fruitfulness, as, wrapped in sunny ease, Blue-eyed and blonde she goes, Upon her bosom Summer's richest rose. II And he who follows where her footsteps lead, By hill and rock, by forest-side and stream, Shall glimpse the glory of her visible dream, In flower and fruit, in rounded nut and seed: She in whose path the very shadows gleam; Whose humblest weed Seems lovelier than Yune's loveliest flower, indeed, And sweeter to the smell Than Apri's self within a rainy dell. III Hers is a sumptuous simplicity Within the fair Republic of her flowers, Where you may see her standing hours on hours, [ 2 ] Poems Breast-deep in gold, soft-holding up a bee To her hushed ear; or sitting under bowers Of greenery, A butterfly a-tilt upon her knee; Or, lounging on her hip, Dancing a cricket on her finger-tip. IV Aye, let me breathe hot scents that tell of you: The hoary catnip and the meadow-mint, On which the honour of your touch doth print Itself as odour. Let me drink the hue Of ironweed and mist-flow'r here that hint, With purple and blue, The rapture that your presence doth imbue Their inmost essence with, Immortal though as transient as a myth. V Yea, let me feed on sounds that still assure Me where you hide: the brooks', whose happy din Tells where, the deep retired woods within, Disrobed, you bathe; the birds', whose drowsy lure Tells where you slumber, your warm-nestling chin Soft on the pure Pink cushion of your palm . . . What better cure For care and memory's ache Than to behold you so and watch you wake! [ 3 ] Shapes d5 Shadows THE HIGHER BROTHERHOOD. TO come in touch with mysteries T Of beauty idealizing Earth, Go seek the hills, grown old with trees, The old hills wise with death and birth. There you may hear the heart that beats In streams, where music has its source; And in wild rocks of green retreats Behold the silent soul of force. Above the love that emanates From human passion, and refles The flesh, must be the love that waits On Nature, whose high call eledts None to her secrets save the few Who hold that faIts are far less real Than dreams, with which all fads indue Themselves approaching the Ideal. [ 4 ] Poems GRAMARYE. THERE are some things that entertain me more T Than men or books; and to my knowledge seem A key of Poetry, made of magic lore Of childhood, opening many a fabled door Of superstition, mystery, and dream Enchantment locked of yore. For, when through dusking woods my pathway lies, Often I feel old spells, as o'er me flits The bat, like some black thought that, troubled, flies Round some darklpurpose; or before me cries The owl that, like an evil conscience, sits A shadowy voice and eyes. Then, when down blue canals of cloudy snow The white moon oars her boat, and woods vibrate With crickets, lo, I hear the hautboys blow Of Elf-land; and when green the fireflies glow, See where the goblins hold a Fairy Fete With lanthorn row on row. Strange growths, that ooze from long-dead logs and spread A creamy fungus, where the snail, uncoiled, And fat slug feed at morn, are Pixy bread Made of the yeasted dew; the lichens red, Besides these grown, are meat the Brownies broiled Above a glow-worm bed. [ 5 ] Shapes d5 Shadows The smears of silver on the webs that line The tree's crook'd roots, or stretch, white-wove, within The hollow stump, are stains of Faery wine Spilled on the cloth where Elf-land sat to dine, When night beheld them drinking, chin to chin, O' the moon's fermented shine. What but their chairs the mushrooms on the lawn, Or toadstools hidden under flower and fern, Tagged with the dotting dew ! -With knees updrawn Far as his eyes, have I not come upon PUCK seated there but scarcely 'round could turn Ere, presto! he was gone. And so though Science from the woods hath tracked The Elfin; and with prosy lights of day Unhallowed all his haunts; and, dulling, blacked Our eyesight, still hath Beauty never lacked For seers yet; who, in some wizard way, Prove Fancy real as Fak. [ 6 ] Poems DREAMS. M Y thoughts have borne me far away N4 To Beauties of an older day, Where, crowned with roses, stands the DAWN, Striking her seven-stringed barbiton Of flame, whose chords give being to The seven colours, hue for hue; The music of the colour-dream She builds the day from, beam by beam. My thoughts have borne me far away To Myths of a diviner day, Where, sitting on the mountain, NooN Sings to the pines a sun-soaked tune Of rest and shade and clouds and skies, Wherein her calm dreams idealize Light as a presence, heavenly fair, Sleeping with all her beauty bare. My thoughts have borne me far away To Visions of a wiser day, Where, stealing through the wilderness, NIGHT walks, a sad-eyed votaress, And prays with mystic words she hears Behind the thunder of the spheres, The starry utterance that 's hers, With which she fills the Universe. [ 7 ] Shapes C5 Shadows THE OLD HOUSE. QUAINT and forgotten, by an unused road, Q An old house stands: around its doors the dense Blue iron-weeds grow high; The chipmunks make a highway of its fence; And on its sunken flagstones slug and toad Silent as lichens lie. The timid snake upon its hearth's cool sand Sleeps undisturbed; the squirrel haunts its roof; And in the clapboard sides Of closets, dim with many a spider woof, Like the uncertain tapping of a hand, The beetle-borer hides. Above its lintel, under mossy eaves, The mud-wasps build their cells; and in the floor Of its neglefted porch The black bees nest. Through each deserted door, Vague as a phantom's footsteps, steal the leaves, And dropped cones of the larch. But come with me when sunset's magic old Transforms the ruin of that ancient house; When windows, one by one,- [8 ] Poems Like age's eyes, that youth's love-dreams arouse,- Grow lairs of fire; and glad mouths of gold Its wide doors, in the sun. Or let us wait until each rain-stained room Is carpeted with moonlight, pattened oft With the deep boughs o'erhead; And through the house the wind goes rustling soft, As might the ghost-a whisper of perfume- Of some sweet girl long dead. [9 I Shapes L5 Shadows THE ROCK. H ERE, at its base, in dingled deeps F1 Of spice-bush, where the ivy creeps, The cold spring scoops its hollow; And there three mossy stepping-stones Make ripple murmurs; undertones Of foam that blend and follow With voices of the wood that drones. The quail pipes here when noons are hot; And here, in coolness sunlight-shot Beneath a roof of briers, The red-fox skulks at close of day; And here at night, the shadows gray Stand like FRANCISCAN friars, With moonbeam beads whereon they pray. Here yawns the ground-hog's dark-dug hole; And there the tunnel of the mole Heaves under weed and flower; A sandy pit-fall here and there The ant-lion digs and lies a-lair; And here, for sun and shower, The spider weaves a silvery snare. The poison-ak's rank tendrils twine The rock's south side; the trumpet-vine, [ IO ] Poems With crimson bugles sprinkled, Makes green its eastern side; the west Is rough with lichens; and, gray-pressed Into an angle wrinkled, The hornets hang an oblong nest. The north is hid from sun and star, And here,-like an Inquisitor Of Faery Inquisition, That roots out Elf-land heresy,- Deep in the rock, with mystery Cowled for his grave commission, The Owl sits magisterially. L II ] Shapes 0S Shadows RAIN. A ROUND, the stillness deepened; then the grain A Went wild with wind; and every briery lane Was swept with dust; and then, tempestuous black, Hillward the tempest heaved a monster back, That on the thunder leaned as on a cane; And on huge shoulders bore a cloudy pack, That gullied gold from many a lightning-crack: One great drop splashed and wrinkled down the pane, And then field, hill, and wood were lost in rain. At last, through cloud; -as from a cavern hewn Into night's heart, -the sun burst, angry roon; And every cedar, with its weight of wet, Against the sunset's fiery splendour set, Frightened to beauty, seemed with rubies strewn: Then in drenched gardens, like sweet phantoms met, Dim odours rose of pink and mignonette; And in the East a confidence, that soon Grew to the calm assurance of the Moon. [ 12 ] Poems STANDING-STONE CREEK. A weed-grown slope, whereon the rain A Has washed the brown rocks bare, Leads tangled from a lonely lane Down to a creek's broad stair Of stone, that, through the solitude, Winds onward to a quiet wood. An intermittent roof of shade The beech above it throws; Along its steps a balustrade Of beauty builds the rose; In which, a stately lamp of green At intervals the cedar's seen. The water, carpeting each ledge Of rock that runs across, Glints 'twixt a flow'r-embroidered edge Of ferns and grass and moss; And in its deeps the wood and sky Seem patterns of the softest dve. Long corridors of pleasant dusk Within the house of leaves It reaches; where, on looms of musk, The ceaseless locust weaves [I 3 ] Shapes dT Shadows A web of summer; and perfume Trails a sweet gown from room to room. Green windows of the boughs, that swing, It passes, where the notes Of birds are glad thoughts entering, And butterflies are motes; And now a vista where the day Opens a door of wind and ray. It is a stairway for all sounds That haunt the woodland sides; On which, boy-like, the southwind bounds, Girl-like, the sunbeam glides; And, like fond parents, following these, The oldtime dreams of rest and peace. [ I' I Poems THE MOONMEN. I stood in the forest on HURON HILL When the night was old and the world was still. The Wind was a wizard who muttering strode In a raven cloak on a haunted road. The Sound of Water, a witch who crooned Her spells to the rocks the rain had runed. And the Gleam of the Dew on the fern's green tip Was a sylvan passing with robe a-drip. The Light of the Stars was a glimmering maid Who stole, an elfin, from glade to glade. The Scent of the Woods in the delicate air, A wildflower shape with chilly hair. And Silence, a spirit who sat alone With a lifted finger and eyes of stone. And it seemed to me these six were met To greet a greater who came not yet. And the speech they spoke, that I listened to, Was the archetype of the speech I knew. [ '5 ] Shapes LS Shadows For the Wind clasped hands with the Water's rush, And I heard them whisper, Hush, oh, hush! The Light of the Stars and the Dew's cool gleam Touched lips and murmured, Dream, oh dream! The Scent of the Woods and the Silence deep Sighed, bosom to bosom, Sleep, oh, sleep! And so for a moment the six were dumb, Then exulted together, They come, they come! And I stood expeolant and seemed to hear A visible music drawing near. And the first who came was the Captain Moon Bearing a shield in GOD'S House hewn. Then an Army of glamour, a glittering Host, Beleaguered the night from coast to coast. And the world was filled with spheric fire From the palpitant chords of many a lyre, As out of the East the MOONMEN came Smiting their harps of silver and flame. [ i6 ] Poems More beauty and grace did their forms express Than the QUEEN OF LOVE'S white nakedness. More chastity too their faces held Than the snowy breasts of DIANA swelled. Translucent-limbed, I saw the beat In their hearts of pearl of the golden heat. And the hair they tossed was a crystal light, And the eyes beneath it were burning white. Their hands that lifted, their feet that fell, Made the darkness blossom to asphodel. And the heavens, the hills, and the streams they trod Shone pale with th' communicated God. A placid frenzy, a waking trance, A soft oracular radiance, Wrapped forms that moved as melodies move, Laurelled with god-head and halo'd with love. So there in the forest on HURON HILL The MOONMEN camped when the world was still... [ I7 ] Shapes d5 Shadows What wonder that they who have looked on these Are lost to the earth's realities! That they sit aside with a far-off look Dreaming the dreams that are writ in no book! That they walk alone till the day they die, Even as I, yea, even as I ! [ i8 ] Poems THE OLD MAN DREAMS. T HE blackened walnut in its spicy hull Rots where it fell; And, in the orchard, where the trees stand full, The pear's ripe bell Drops; and the log-house in the bramble lane, From whose low door Stretch yellowing acres of the corn and cane, He sees once more. The cat-bird sings upon its porch of pine; And o'er its gate, All slender-podded, twists the trumpet-vine, A leafy weight; And in the woodland, by the spring, mayhap, With eyes of joy Again he bends to set a rabbit-trap, A brown-faced boy. Then, whistling, through the underbrush he goes, Out of the wood, Where, with young cheeks, red as an Autumn rose, Beneath her hood, His sweetheart waits, her school-books on her arm; And now it seems Beside his chair he sees his wife's fair form- The old man dreams. [' 9 ] Shapes d5 Shadows SINCE THEN. I found myself among the trees What time the reapers ceased to reap; And in the berry blooms the bees Huddled wee heads and went to sleep, Rocked by the silence and the breeze. I saw the red fox leave his lair, A shaggy shadow, on the knoll; And, tunnelling his thoroughfare Beneath the loam, I watched the mole- Stealth's own self could not take more care. I heard the death-moth tick and stir, Slow-honeycombing through the bark; I heard the crickets' drowsy chirr, And one lone beetle burr the dark - The sleeping woodland seemed to purr. And then the moon rose; and a white Low bough of blossoms-grown almost Where, ere you died, 'twas our delight To tryst,-dear heart !-I thought your ghost . The wood is haunted since that night. [ 20 ] Poems COMRADES. DOWN through the woods, along the way D That fords the stream; by rock and tree, Where in the bramble-bell the bee Swings; and through twilights green and gray The red-bird flashes suddenly, My thoughts went wandering to-day. I found the fields where, row on row, The blackberries hang black with fruit; Where, nesting at the elder's root, The partridge whistles soft and low; The fielas, that billow to the foot Of those old hills we used to know. There lay the pond, still willow-bound, On whose bright surface, when the hot Noon burnt above, we chased the knot Of water-spiders; while around Our heads, like bits of rainbow, shot The dragonflies without a sound. The pond, above which evening bent To gaze upon her rosy face; Wherein the twinkling night would place A vague, inverted firmament, [ 21 1 Shapes CS Shadows In which the green frogs tuned their bass, And firefly sparkles came and went. The oldtime woods we often ranged, When we were playmates, you and I; The oldtime fields, with boyhood's sky Still blue above them ! -Naught was changed! Nothing !-Alas, then tell me why Should we be whom long years estranged. [ 22 ] Poem s WAITING. COME to the hills, the woods are green- S The heart is high when LOVE is sweet- There is a brook that flows between Two mossy trees where we can meet, Where we can meet and speak unseen. I hear you laughing in the lane- The heart is high when LOVE is sweet- The clover smells of sun and rain And spreads a carpet for our feet, Where we can sit and dream again. Come to the woods, the dusk is here - The heart is high when LoVE is sweet- A bird upon the branches near Sets music to our hearts' glad beat, Our hearts that beat with something dear. I hear your step; the lane is passed ; - The heart is high when LOVE is sweet- The little stars come bright and fast, Like happy eyes to see us greet, To see us greet and kiss at last. [ 23 ] Shapes LS Shadows CONTRASTS. N eve of summer ever can attain N The gladness of that eve of late 7uiy, When 'mid the roses, filled with musk and rain, Against the wondrous topaz of the sky, I met you, leaning on the pasture bars,- While heaven and earth grew conscious of the stars. No night of blackest winter can repeat The bitterness of that December night, When at your gate, gray-glittering with sleet, Within the glimmering square of window-light, We parted,-long you clung unto my arm,- While heaven and earth surrendered to the storm. [ 24 ] Poems IN 7une. D EEP in the West a berry-coloured bar D Of sunset gleams; against which one tall fir Is outlined dark; above which-courier Of dew and dreams-burns dusk's appointed star. And flash on flash, as when the elves wage war In Goblinland, the fireflies bombard The stillness; and, like spirits, o'er the sward The glimmering winds bring fragrance from afar. And now withdrawn into the hill-wood belts A whippoorwill; while, with attendant states Of purple and silver, slow the great moon melts Into the night-to show me where she waits,- Like some slim moonbeam,-by the old beech-tree, Who keeps her lips, fresh as a flower, for me. [ 25 ] Shapes C Shadows AFTER LONG GRIEF AND PAIN. THERE is a place hung o'er with summer boughs T And drowsy skies wherein the gray hawk sleepsi Where waters flow, within whose lazy deeps, Like silvery prisms that the winds arouse, The minnows twinkle; where the bells of cows Tinkle the stillness, and the bob-white keeps Calling from meadows where the reaper reaps, And children's laughter haunts an old-time house; A place where life wears ever an honest smell Of hay and honey, sun and elder-bloom- Like some dear, modest girl-within her hair: Where, with our love for comrade, we may dwell Far from the city's strife whose cares consume- Oh, take my hand and let me lead you there. [ 26 ] Poems Can I Forget CAN I forget how LOVE once led the ways C Of our two lives together, joining them; How every hour was his anadem, And every day a tablet in his praise! Can I forget how, in his garden place, Among the purple roses, stem to stem, We heard the rumour of his robe's bright hem, And saw the aureate radiance of his face ! - Though I behold my soul's high dreams down-hurled, And FALSEHOOD sit where Truth once towered white, And in LOVE's place, usurping lust and shame . . . Though flowers be dead within the winter world, Are flowers not there and starless though the night, Are stars not there, eternal and the same [ 27 ] Shapes L5 Shadows THE HOUSE OF FEAR. VAST are its halls, as vast the halls and lone V Where DEATH stalks listening to the wind and rain; And dark that house, where I shall meet again My long-dead Sin in some dread way unknown; For I have dreamed of stairs of haunted stone, And spedtre footsteps I have fled in vain; And windows glaring with a blood-red stain, And horrible eyes, that burn me to the bone, Within a face that looks as that black night It looked when deep I dug for it a grave,- The dagger wound above the brow, the thin Blood trickling down slantwise the ghastly white;- And I have dreamed not even GOD can save Me and my soul from that risen Sin. [ 28 ] Poems AT DAWN. FAR off I heard dark waters rush; The sky was cold; the dawn broke green; And wrapped in twilight and strange hush The gray wind moaned between. A voice rang through the House of Sleep, And through its halls there went a tread; Mysterious raiment seemed to sweep Around the pallid dead. And then I knew that I had died, I, who had suffered so and sinned- And 't was myself I stood beside In the wild dawn and wind. [ 29 ] Shapes CS Shadows STORM. I looked into the night and saw GOD writing with tumultuous flame Upon the thunder's front of awe,- As on sonorous brass,-the Law, Terrific, of His judgement name. Weary of all life's best and worst, With hands of hate, I-who had pled, I, who had prayed for death at first And had not died-now stood and cursed GOD, yet he would not strike me dead. t 30 ] Poems M EMORIES. H ERE where LOVE lies perished, FiLook not in upon the dead; Lest the shadowy curtains, shaken In my Heart's dark chamber, waken Ghosts, beneatH whose garb of sorrow Whilom gladness bows his head: When you come at morn to-morrow, Look not in upon the dead, Here where LOVE lies perished. Here where LOVE lies cold interred, Let no syllable be heard; Lest the hollow echoes, housing In my Soul's deep tomb, arousing Wake a voice of woe, once laughter Claimed and clothed in joy's own word: When you come at dusk or after, Let no syllable be heard, Here where LOVE lies cold interred. [ 3' : Shapes L5 Shadows WHICH THE wind was on the forest, T And silence on the wold, And darkness on the waters, And heaven was starry cold; When Sleep, with mystic magic, Bade me this thing behold: This side, an iron woodland; That side, an iron waste; And heaven, a tower of iron, Wherein the wan moon paced, Still as a phantom woman, Ice-eyed and icy-faced. And through the haunted tower Of silence and of night, My Soul and I went only, My Soul, whose face was white, Whose one hand signed me listen, One bore a taper-light. For, lo! a voice behind me Kept sighing in my ear The dreams my flesh accepted, My mind refused to hear- Of one I loved and loved not, Whose spirit now spake near. [ 32 ] Poem s And, lo! a voice before me Kept calling constantly The hopes my mind accepted, My flesh refused to see- Of one I loved and loved not, Whose spirit spake to me. This way the one would bid me; This way the other saith:- Sweet is the voice behind me Of LIFE that followeth; And sweet the voice before me Of LIFE whose name is DEATH. [ 33 ] Shapes L5 Shadows SUNSET IN Au4Utumn. BLOOD-COLOURED oaks, that stand against a sky B of gold and brass; Gaunt slopes, on which the bleak leaves glow of brier and sassafras, And broom-sedge strips of smoky pink and pearl-gray clumps of grass, In which, beneath the ragged sky, the rain-pools gleam like glass. From West to East, from wood to wood, along the forest- side, The winds,-the sowers of the LORD,-with thunderous footsteps stride; Their stormy hands rain acorns down; and mad leaves, wildly dyed, Like tatters of their rushing cloaks, stream round them far and wide. The frail leaf-cricket in the weeds rings a faint fairy bell; And like a torch of phantom ray the milkweed's windy shell Glimmers; while wrapped in withered dreams, the wet autumnal smell Of loam and leaf, like some sad ghost, steals over field and dell. [ 34 1 Poems The oaks against a copper sky-o'er which, like some black lake Of Dis, dark clouds, like surges fringed with sullen fire, break- Loom sombre as Doom's citadel above the vales, that make A pathway to a land of mist the moon's pale feet shall take. Now, dyed with burning carbuncle, a Limbo-litten pane, Within its wall of storm, the West opens to hill and plain, On which the wild geese ink themselves, a far triangled train; And then the shuttering clouds close down-and night is here again. [ 35 1 Shapes d5 Shadows THE LEGEND OF THE STONE. THE year was dying, and the day T Was almost dead; The West, beneath a sombre gray, Was sombre red. The gravestones in the ghostly light, 'Mid trees half bare, Seemed phantoms, clothed in glimmering white, That haunted there. I stood beside the grave of one, Who, here in life, Had wronged my home; who had undone My child and wife. I stood beside his grave until The moon came up - As if the dark, unhallowed hill Lifted a cup. No stone was there to mark his grave, No flower to grace- 'T was meet that weeds alone should wave In such a place. I stood beside his grave until The stars swam high, And all the night was iron still From sky to sky. [ 36 ] Poems What cared I if strange eyes seemed bright Within the gloom! If, evil blue, a wandering light Burnt by each tomb! Or that each crooked thorn-tree seemed A witch-hag cloaked! Or that the owl above me screamed, The raven croaked! For I had cursed him when the day Was sullen red; Had cursed him when the West was gray, And day was dead; And now when night made dark the pole, Both soon and late I cursed his body, yea, and soul, With the hate of hate. Once in my soul I seemed to hear A low voice say,- 'Twere better toforgive,-andfear Thy God,-and pray. I laughed; and from pale lips of stone On sculptured tombs A mocking laugh replied alone Deep in the glooms. [ 37 1 Shapes L Shadows And then I felt, I felt-as if Some force should seize The body; and its limbs stretch stiff, And, fastening, freeze Down, downward deeper than the knees Into the earth- While still among the twisted trees That voice made mirth. And in my Soul was fear, despair,- Like lost ones feel, When knotted in their pitch-stiff hair, They feel the steel Of devils' forks lift up, through sleet Of hell's slant fire, Then plunge,-as white from head to feet I grew entire. A voice without me, yet within, As still as frost, Intoned: ny sin is thrice a sin. Thrice art thou lost. Behold, how God would punish thee! For this thy crime- fhy crime of hate and blasphemy- Through endless time! [ 38 ] Poems O'er him, whom thou wouldst not forgiv4, Record what good He did on earth! and let him live Loved, understood! Be memory thine of all the worst He did thine owvn! There at the head of him I cursed I stood-a stone. [ 39 1 Shapes U Shadows TIME AND DEATH AND LOVE. LAST night I watched for Death- L So sick of life was I !- When in the street beneath I heard his watchman cry The hour, while passing by. I called. And in the night I heard him stop below, His owlish lanthorn's light Blurring the windy snow- How long the time and slow! I said, Why dost thou cower There at my door and knock Come in! It is the hour! Cease fumbling at the lock! Naught 's well! 'Tis no o'clock! Black through the door with him Swept in the Winter's breath; His cloak was great and grim- But he, who smiled beneath, Had the face of Love not Death. [ 40 1 Poems PASSION. THE wine-loud laughter of indulged Desire TUpon his lips, and, in his eyes, the fire Of uncontrol, he takes in reckless hands,- And interrupts with discords,-the sad lyre Of LOVE'S deep soul, and never understands. [ 41 ] Shapes dS Shadows When the Wine-Cup at the Lip. W HEN the wine-cup at the lip NV Slants its sparkling fire, O'er its level, while you sip, Have you marked the finger-tip Of the god DESIRE slip, Of the god DESIRE Saying-Lo, the hours run! Live your day before 'tis done! When the empty goblet lies At the ended revel, In the glass, the wine-stain dyes, Have you marked the hollow eyes Of a mocking Devil rise, Of a mocking Devil Saying-Lo, the day is through! Look on joy it gave to you ! [ 42 ] Poems ART. [A Phantasy.] I know not how I found you With your wild hair a-blow, Nor why the world around you Would never let me know: Perhaps 'twas Heaven relented, Perhaps 't was Hell resented My dream, and grimly vented Its hate upon me so. In Shadowland I met you Where all dim shadows meet; Within my heart I set you, A phantom bitter-sweet: No hope for me to win you, Though I with soul and sinew Strive on and on, when in you There is no heart or heat! Yet ever, aye, and ever, Although I knew you lied, I followed on, but never Would your white form abide: [ 43 ] Shapes L5' Shadows With loving arms stretched meward, As Sirens beckon seaward To some fair vessel leeward, Before me you would glide. But like an evil fairy, That mocks one with a light, Now near, you led your airy, Now far, your fitful flight: With red-gold tresses blowing, And eyes of sapphire glowing, With limbs like marble showing, You lured me through the night. To some unearthly revel Of mimes, a motley crew, 'Twixt Angel-land and Devil, You lured me on, I knew, And lure me still! soft whiling The way with hopes beguiling, While dark Despair sits smiling Behind the eyes of you! [ 44 ] Poems A SONG FOR OLD AGE. NOW nights grow cold and colder, N And North the wild vane swings, And round each tree and boulder The driving snow-storm sings- Come, make my old heart older, o memory of lost things ! Of Hope, when promise sung her Brave songs and I was young, That banquets now on hunger Since all youth's songs are sung; Of Love, who walks with younger Sweethearts the flowers among. Ah, well! while Life holds levee, Death's ceaseless dance goes on. So let the curtains, heavy About my couch, be drawn- The curtains, sad and heavy, Where all shall sleep anon. [ 45 1 Shapes d Shadows Tristram AND Isolt. N IGHT and vast caverns of rock and of iron; N Voices like water, and voices like wind; Horror and tempests of hail that environ Shapes and the shadows of two who have sinned. Wan on the whirlwind, in loathing uplifting Faces that loved once, forever they go, TRISTRAM and ISOLT, the lovers, go drifting, The sullen laughter of Hell below. [ 46 ] Poems THE BETTER LOT. H ;ER life was bound to crutches: pale and bent, 11 But smiling ever, she would go and come: For of her soul GOD made an instrument Of strength and comfort to an humble home. Better a life of toil and slow disease That LOVE companions through the patient years, Than one whose heritage is loveless ease, That never knows the blessedness of tears. r47 ] Shapes 0 Shadows DUSK IN THE WOODS. THREE miles of hill it is; and I T Came through the woods that waited, dumb, For the cool Summer dusk to come; And lingered there to watch the sky Up which the gradual sunset clomb. A tree-toad quavered in a tree; And then a sudden whip-poor-will Called overhead, so wildly shrill, The startled woodland seemed to see How very lone it was and still. Then through dark boughs its stealthy flight An owl took; and, at sleepy strife, The cricket turned its fairy fife; And through the dead leaves, in the night, Soft rustlings stirred of unseen life. And in the punk-wood everywhere The inse6ls ticked, or bored below The rotted bark; and, glow on glow, The gleaming fireflies here and there Lit up their Jack-o'-lantern show. E 48 ] Poems I heard a vesper-sparrow sing, Withdrawn, it seemed, into the far Slow sunset's tranquil cinnabar; The sunset, softly smouldering Behind gaunt trunks, with its one star. A dog barked; and down ways, that gleamed, Through dew and clover faint the noise Of cow-bells moved. And then a voice, That sang a-milking, so it seemed, Made glad my heart as some glad boy's. And then the lane; and full in view A farmhouse with a rose-grown gate, And honeysuckle paths, await For night's white moon and love and you- These are the things that made me late. [ 49 ] Shapes d Shadows AT THE FERRY. OH, dim and wan came in the dawn, 0 And gloomy closed the day; The killdee whistled among the weeds, The heron flapped in the river reeds, And the snipe piped far away. At dawn she stood -her dark gray hood Flung back-in the ferry-boat; Sad were the eyes that watched him ride, Her raider love, from the riverside, His kiss on her mouth and throat. Like some wild spell the twilight fell, And black the tempest came; The heavens seemed filled with the warring dead, Whose batteries opened overhead With thunder and with flame. At night again in the wind and rain, She toiled at the ferry oar; For she heard a voice in the night and storm, And it seemed that her lover's shadowy form Beckoned her to the shore. [ 50 ] Poems And swift to save she braved the wave, And reached the shore and found His riderless horse, with head hung low, A blur of blood on the saddle-bow, And the empty night around. [ 5' 1 Shapes CS Shadows HER VIOLIN. I H ER violin ! -Again begin The dream-notes of her violin; And dim and fair, with gold-brown hair, I seem to see her standing there, Soft-eyed and sweetly slender: The room again, with strain on strain, Vibrates to LovE's melodious pain, As, sloping slow, is poised her bow, While round her form the golden glow Of sunset spills its splendour. II Her violin !-now deep, now thin, Again I hear her violin; And, dream by dream, again I seem To see the love-light's tender gleam Beneath her eyes' long lashes: While to my heart she seems a part Of her pure song's inspired art; And, as she plays, the rosy grays Of twilight halo hair and face, While sunset burns to ashes. III O violin 1-Cease, cease within My soul, 0 haunting violin! [ 52 ] Poems In vain, in vain, you bring again Back from the past the blissful pain Of all the love then spoken; When on my breast, at happy rest, A sunny while her head was pressed- Peace, peace to these wild memories! For, like my heart naught remedies, Her violin lies broken. [ 53 1 Shapes 5 Shadows HER VESPER SONG. THE Summer lightning comes and goes T In one pale cloud above the hill, As if within its soft repose A burning heart were never still- As in my bosom pulses beat Before the coming of his feet. All drugged with odorous sleep, the rose Breathes dewy balm about the place, As if the dreams the garden knows Took immaterial form and face- As in my heart sweet thoughts arise Beneath the ardour of his eyes. The moon above the darkness shows An orb of silvery snow and fire, As if the night would now disclose To heav'n her one divine desire- As in the rapture of his kiss All of my soul is drawn to his. The cloud, it knows not that it glows; The rose knows nothing of its scent; Nor knows the moon that it bestows Light on our earth and firmament- So is the soul unconscious of The beauties it reveals through LOVE. [ 54 ] Poems AT PARTING. W HAT is there left for us to say, Now it has come to say good-by And all our dreams of yesterday Have vanished in the sunset sky- What is there left for us to say, Now different ways before us lie A word of hope, a word of cheer, A word of love, that still shall last, When we are far to bring us near Through memories of the happy past; A word of hope, a word of cheer, To keep our sad hearts true and fast. What is there left for us to do, Now it has come to say farewell And care, that bade us once adieu, Returns again with us to dwell- What is there left for us to do, Now different ways our fates compel Clasp hands and sigh, touch lips and smile, And look the love that shall remain- When severed so by many a mile- The sweetest balm for bitterest pain; Clasp hands and sigh, touch lips and smile, And trust in GOD to meet again. [ 55 1 Shapes LYf Shadows CARISSIMA MEA. I look upon my lady's face, And, in the world about me, see No face like hers in any place: Therefore it is I sing her praise. It is not made, as others sing Of their dear loves; like ivory, But like a wild rose in the spring: Therefore it is I sing her praise. Her brow is low and very fair, And o'er it, smooth and shadowy, Lies deep the darkness of her hair: Therefore it is I sing her praise. Beneath her brows her eyes are gray, And gaze out glad and fearlessly, Their wonder haunts me night and day: Therefore it is I sing her praise. Her eyebrows, arched and delicate, Twin curves of pencilled ebony, Within their spans contain my fate: Therefore it is I sing her praise. [ 56 ] Poems Her mouth, that was for kisses curved, So small and sweet, it well may be That it for me is yet reserved: Therefore it is I sing her praise. Between her hair and rounded chin, Calm with her soul's calm purity, There lies no shadow of a sin: Therefore it is I sing her praise. Of perfel form, she is not tall, Just higher than the heart of me, Where'er I place her, all in all: Therefore it is I sing her praise. She is not shaped, as some have sung Of their dear loves, like some slim tree, But like the moon when it is young: Therefore it is I sing her praise. Her hands, that smell of violet, So white and fashioned gracefully, Have woven round my heart a net: Therefore it is I sing her praise. [ 57 ] Shapes U Shadows Yea, I have loved her many a day; And though for me she may not be, Still at her feet my love I lay: Therefore it is I sing her praise. Albeit she be not for me, GOD send her grace and grant that she Know nought of sorrow all her days: Therefore it is I sing her praise. ( 58 ] Poems Ma rgery. I W HEN Spring is here and MARGERY NV Goes walking in the woods with me, She is so white, she is so shy, The little leaves clap hands and cry- Perdie! So white is she, so shy is she, Ah me! The maiden May hath just passed by! II When Summer's here and MARGERY Goes walking in the fields with me, She is so pure, she is so fair, The wildflowers eye her and declare- Perdie! So pure is she, so fair is she, lust see, Where our sweet cousin takes the air! III Why is it that my MARGERY Hears nothing that these say to me She is so good, she is so true, [ 59 ] Shapes S Shadows My heart it maketh such ado; Perdie! So good is she, so true is she, You see, She can not hear the other two. [ 6o I Poems Constance. BEYOND the orchard, in the lane, B The crested red-bird sings again- 0 bird, whose song says, Have no care. Should I not care when CONSTANCE there,- My CONSTANCE, with the bashful gaze, Pink-gowned like some sweet hollyhock,- If I declare my love, just says Some careless thing as if in mock Like-Past the orchard, in the lane, How sweet the red-bird sings again! There, while the red-bird sings his best, His listening mate sits on the nest- o bird, whose patience says, All 's well, How can it be with me, now tell When CONSTANCE, with averted eyes,- Soft-bonneted as some sweet-pea,- If I speak marriage, just replies With some such quaint irrelevancy, As, While the red-bird sings his best, His loving mate sits on the nest. What shall I say what can I do Would such replies mean aught to you, o birds, whose gladness says, Be glad Have I not reason to be sad [ 6i ] Shapes L Shadows When CONSTANCE, with demurest glance, Her face a-poppy with distress, If I reproach her, pouts, perchance, And answers so in waywardness - What shall I say what can I do My meaning should be plain to you! [ 62 1 Poems Gertrude. W HEN first I gazed on GERTRUDE'S face, NV Beheld her loveliness and grace; Her brave gray eyes, her raven hair, Her ways, more winsome than the kiss Spring gives the flowers; her smile, that is Brighter than all the summer air Made sweet with birds:-I did declare,- And still declare !-there is no one, No girl beneath the moon or sun, So beautiful to look upon! And to my thoughts, that on her dwell, Nothing seems more desirable- Not OPHIR gold nor ORIENT pearls- Than seems this jewel-girl of girls. [ 63 Shapes 5 Shadows Lydia. W HEN Autumn's here and days are short, NV Let LYDIA laugh and, hey! Straightway 'tis May-day in my heart, And blossoms strew the way. When Summer's here and days are long, Let LYDIA sigh and, ho ! December's fields I walk among, And shiver in the snow. No matter what the Seasons are, My LYDIA is so dear, My soul admits no Calendar Of earth when she is near. [ 64 ] Poems A SOUTHERN GIRL. SERIOUS but smiling, stately and serene, S And dreamier than a flower; A girl in whom all sympathies convene As perfumes in a bower; Through whom one feels what soul and heart may mean, And their resistless power. Eyes, that commune with the frank skies of truth, Where thought like starlight curls; Lips of immortal rose, where love and youth Nestle like two sweet pearls; Hair, that suggests the Bible braids of RUTH, Deeper than any girl's. When first I saw you, 'twas as if within My soul took shape some song- Played by a master of the violin- A music pure and strong, That rapt my soul above all earthly sin To heights that know no wrong. [ 65 ] Shapes dY Shadows A DAUGHTER OF THE STATES. SHE has the eyes of some barbarian Queen Leading her wild tribes into battle; eyes, Wherein th' unconquerable soul defies, And Love sits throned, imperious and serene. And I have thought that Liberty, alone Among the mountain stars, might look like her, Kneeling to GOD, her only emperor, Kindling her torch on FREEDOM'S altar-stone. For in her self, regal with riches of Beauty and youth, again those Queens seem born- BOADICEA, meeting scorn with scorn, And ERMENGARDE, returning love for love. [ 66 ] Poems AN Autumn NIGHT. SOME things are good on Autumn nights, ) When with the storm the forest fights, Arnd in the room the heaped hearth lights Old-fashioned press and rafter: Plump chestnuts hissing in the heat, A mug of cider, sharp and sweet, And at your side a face petite, With lips of laughter. Upon the roof the rolling rain, And tapping at the window-pane, The wind that seems a witch's cane That summons spells together: A hand within your own awhile; A mouth refleffing back your smile; And eyes, two stars, whose beams exile All thoughts of weather. And, while the wind lulls, still to sit And watch her fire-lit needles flit A-knitting, and to feel her knit Your very heartstrings in it: Then, when the old clock ticks 't is late, To rise, and at the door to wait, Two words, or at the garden gate, A kissing minute. [ 67 ] Shapes 5 Shadows LINES. IF GOD should say to me, Behold!- real, who shall doubt- They who love others more than me, Shall I not turn, as oft of old, My face from them and cast them out So let it he with thee, behold / - I should not care, for in your face Is all GOD'S grace. If GOD should say to me, Behold!- Is it not well- They who have other gods than me, Shall I not bid them, as of old, Depart into the outer HELL So let it be with thee, behold!- I should not care, for in your eyes IS PARADISE. [ 68 ] Poems THE BLIND GOD. I know not if she be unkind, If she have faults I do not care; Search through the world-where will you find A face like hers, a form, a mind I love her to despair. If she be cruel, cruelty Is a great virtue, I will swear; If she be proud -then pride must be Akin to Heaven's divinest three- I love her to despair. Why speak to me of that and this All you may say weighs not a hair! In her,-whose lips I may not kiss,- To me naught but perfeftion is ! - I love her to despair. [ 69 3 Shapes Sf Shadows A VALENTINE. M Y life is grown a witchcraft place NIThrough gazing on thy form and face. Now 't is thy Smile's soft sorcery That makes my soul a melody. Now 't is thy Frown, that comes and goes, That makes my heart a page of prose. Some day, perhaps, a word of thine Will change me to thy VALENTINE. i: 70 3 Poems A CATCH. WITHEN roads are mired with ice and snow, V And the air of morn is crisp with rime; When the holly hangs by the mistletoe, And bells ring in the CHRISTMAS time:- It's-Saddle, my Heart, and ride away, To the sweet-faced girl with the eyes of gray! Who waits with a smile for the gifts you bring- A man's strong love and a wedding-ring- It's-Saddle, my Heart, and ride! When vanes veer North and storm-winds blow, And the sun of noon is a blur o'erhead; When the holly hangs by the mistletoe, And the CHRISTMAS service is sung and said:- It's-Come, 0 my Heart, and wait awhile, Where the organ peals, in the altar aisle, For the gifts that the church now gives to you- A woman's hand and a heart that's true. It's-Come, 0 my Heart, and wait! When rooms gleam warm with the fire's glow, And the sleet raps sharp on the window-pane; When the holly hangs by the mistletoe, And CHRISTMAS revels begin again: - It 's-Home, 0 my Heart, and love, at last! [ 71 ] Shapes (5 Shadows And her happy breast to your own held fast; A song to sing and a tale to tell, A good-night kiss, and all is well. It's-Home, 0 my Heart, and love! ( 72 1 Poems THE NEW YEAR. LIFT up thy torch, 0 Year, and let us see L What Destiny Hath made thee heir to at nativity! Doubt, some call Faith; and ancient Wrong and Might, Whom some name Right; And Darkness, that the purblind world c'alls Light. Despair, with Hope's brave form; and Hate, who goes In Friendship's clothes; And Happiness, the mask of many woes. Neglea, whom Merit serves; Lust, to whom, see, Love bends the knee; And Selfishness, who preacheth charity. Vice, in whose dungeon Virtue lies in chains; And Cares and Pains, That on the throne of Pleasure hold their reigns. Corruption, known as Honesty; and Fame That's but a name; And Inrnocence, the outward guise of Shame. And Folly, men call Wisdom here, forsooth; And, like a youth, Fair Falsehood, whom some worship for the Truth. [ 73 ] Shapes d5 Shadows Abundance, who hath Famine's house in lease; And, high 'mid these, War, blood-black, on the spotless shrine of Peace. Lift up thy torch, 0 Year! assist our sight! Deep lies the night Around us, and GOD grants us little light ! [ 74 ] Poems THEN AND Now. W HEN my old heart was young, my dear, 'NV The Earth and Heaven were so near That in my dreams I oft could hear The steps of unseen races; In woodlands, where bright waters ran, On hills, GOD's rainbows used to span, I followed voices not of man, And smiled in spirit faces. Now my old heart is old, my sweet, No longer Earth and Heaven meet; All Life is grown to one long street Where fadt with fancy clashes; The voices now that speak to me Are prose instead of poetry: And in the faces now I see Is less of flame than ashes. [ 75 ] Shapes C5 Shadows Epilogue. BEYOND the moon, within a land of mist, B Lies the dim Garden of all Dead Desires, Walled round with morning's clouded amethyst, And haunted of the sunset's shadowy fires; There all lost things we loved hold ghostly tryst- Dead dreams, dead hopes, dead loves, and dead desires. Sad are the stars that day and night exist Above the Garden of all Dead Desires; And sad the roses that within it twist Deep bow'rs; and sad the wind that through it quires; But sadder far are they who there hold tryst- Dead dreams, dead hopes, dead loves, and dead desires. There, like a dove, upon the twilight's wrist, Soft in the Garden of all Dead Desires, Sleep broods; and there, where never a serpent hissed, On the wan willows music hangs her lyres, ]EOLIAN dials by which phantoms tryst- Dead dreams, dead hopes, dead loves, and dead desires. There you shall hear low voices; kisses kissed, Faint in the Garden of all Dead Desires, By lips the anguish of vain song makes whist; [ 76 j Poems And meet with shapes that art's despair attires; And gaze in eyes where all sweet sorrows tryst- Dead dreams, dead hopes, dead loves, and dead desires. Thither we go, dreamer and realist, Bound for the Garden of all Dead Desires, Where we shall find, perhaps, all Life hath missed, All Life hath longed for when the soul aspires, All Earth's elusive loveliness at tryst- Dead dreams, dead hopes, dead loves, and dead desires. [ 77 1 Arranged in types by D. B. UPDIKE, The Merrymount Press, BOS TO N, U. S. A. Printed from plates by RED FIELD BROS. 411 Pearl St. New York