Part 2

'Neath northern skies thou hid'st thy punctual nest By crystal waters in their lonely play, Meeting the challenge with which instant day And night thy chariness and courage test. Half bird, half spirit!--O elusive quest That thinks thy dappled mould but common clay! Thou wak'st with demon laughter Ha Ha Bay, Art soul of solitariness, unblest.

Flash of pure wildness on dusk Saguenay, Awareness of wild nature's subtle breast, Freight and athrill with weirdsome life, yet gay, Thou cleav'st the deluge dense, a wingëd jest!-- That rallying mock and jeer's an impish mark-- The echo of thy flout of Noah's ark!

HEPATICAS.

A shining troop of cherubs just alit From the low-bending skies,--child faces sweet, Upturned and open to our human greet,-- Fresh from the gladsome fount of life emit! Heralds of spring, forewinging, as ye flit, The garland seasons with their sheaves of wheat, And to all listening ears Christ's words repeat: "Man shall not live by bread alone, 'tis writ"!

Evangelists fair of the new-made year, This news from God, forgot, blow everywhere, And fill the hollow sky, the haunting air; Till from His loving mouth, as sphere to sphere, Man knows the beautiful, the good, the true, Divinest manna dipt in heavenly dew!

IN THE MAYFLOWER COPSE.

With gladsome note the robin debonair Heralds bright May. Pale sky and earth-stained snow Warm at the touch of south winds as they blow Their wafts of life through winter's lingering air. Hid, like some laughing child, shy Mayflower fair, Beneath the leafy shield, with face aglow, Thy pearly self the coy spring's first tableau, Come to the day and yield thy fragrance rare!

Ah me! while thrushes pipe and plumy winds Fan northward all their balmy fervors sweet, And groves are misty with the reddening bud, A gentle spirit from the past unbinds The peace of Lethe, and with quickening beat Stirs to divine unrest my fevered blood.

JUNE.

Now weave the winds to music of June's lyre Their bowers of cloud whence odorous blooms are flung Far down the dells and cedarn vales among,-- See, lowly plains, sky-touched, to heaven aspire! Now flash the golden robin's plumes with fire, The bobolink is bubbling o'er with song, And leafy trees, Æolian harps new-strung, Murmur far notes blown from some starry choir.

My heart thrills like the wilding sap to flowers, And leaps as a swoln brook in summer rain Past meadows green to the great sea untold. O month divine, all fresh with falling showers, Waft, waft from open heaven thy balm for pain, Life and sweet Earth are young, God grows not old!

AN INLAND SPRUCE.

Peasant of northern forests, humble tree, Kirtled and frocked in all-year homespun green, And lacking not among thy kind the mien Of such as bear the white sails gallantly! Magician thou! Thy full-breathed symphony Of spacious dream dissolves the walls between Me now and nature's organ-voicëd queen, The multitudinous ongoing sea!

The sheeny garb from thy tall shoulders hung, Making thy spiry form like vase antique For resinous balms of frankincense and myrrh, And round the bearded skirts the drowsy purr Of life, and murmurings of thy sea-harp strung,-- Touch thee to kinship fine with Celt and Greek.

THE GHOST FLOWER.

Like Israel's seer I come from out the earth Confronting with the question air and sky, _Why dost thou bring me up?_ White ghost am I Of that which was God's beauty at its birth. In eld the sun kissed me to ruby red, I held my chalice up to heaven's full view, The wistful stars dropt down their golden dew, And skyey balms exhaled about my bed. Alas, I loved the darkness, not the light! The deadly shadows, not the bending blue, Spoke to my trancëd heart, made false seem true, And drowned my spirit in the deeps of night. O Painter of the flowers, O God most sweet, _Dost say my spirit for the light is meet?_

ANNAPOLIS BASIN.

The full-fed crystal streams from east and west And south, thy rich-wrought cup filled to the brim, Till where the northern star soft gilds the rim, Thy waters, called, o'erbroke at love's behest. O to have seen thy cataract's white breast, Rifted with ruth through the lone centuries dim, For toiling Fundy's wooing tide--for him To blend thy sylvan calm with world unrest! Far floods thy bridal brought, fair lake, brave sea! And late, the wingëd ships--Champlain, De Monts, With Poutrincourt, and sequent games of war. Thy marge, now crowned with peaceful husbandry, And set with England's rose where bloomed _fleur d'or_, Still croons all day love's wedded tidal song.

IN AUTUMN'S DREAMY EAR.

In autumn's dreamy ear, as suns go by Whose yellow beams are dulled with languorous motes, The deep vibrations of the cosmic notes Are as the voice of those that prophesy. Her spirit kindles, and her filmy eye! In haste the fluttering robe, whose glory floats In pictured folds, her eager soul devotes-- Lo, she with her winged harper sweeps the sky!

Splendors of blossomed time, like poppies red, Distil dull slumbers o'er the engagëd soul And thrall with sensuous pomp its azured dower; Till, roused by vibrant touch from the unseen Power, The spirit keen, freed from the painted dead, On wings mounts up to reach its living Goal.

VICTOR IS HE!

Victor is he whose tremulous soul the notes Of starry spaces hears, their far appeal, And cries "Amen!" and sets thereto the seal With which winged aspiration life devotes! That seal rays golden flame, and bright connotes The transmutation through the spirit's zeal Of earthly passions to the high anneal That rings the harmony that heavenward floats.

While other triremes vain withstood the guile, The lyric prow of Orpheus easeful past In gladsome scorn's disdain the Sirens' Isle; And proud Calliope o'er each black mast Whispered her thrilling taunt in ears of pain: "I taught my Thracian boy a heavenlier strain!"

McMASTER UNIVERSITY.

As some grey captain of a merchantship, Whose prosperous voyage o'er the watery strife Has large concern for all, knows that his wife Waits his home-coming up the horizon's dip With holier heart than crowds that throng the slip, So He well knew, thou--flower-elect of life! Chosen from out a clamor of voices rife-- Waitedst his voyage o'er with prayerful lip.

Fair Bride, forget him not through circling years! But with a Christ-like love, deep as unfeigned Surpassing that of commerce or of state, With holy hands thy dower devote with tears Of gratitude and loyal heart unstained; Thy sacred vow perform with soul elate.

CONDUCT.

Nay, Arnold, not "three-fourths" but all "of life"! The ethic spirit that makes conduct so, Slays all mythologies and witchcrafts, lo, False sciences as well, with ruthless knife, Lest intercourse of human souls be rife With demi-gods and unclean things below, And work corruption at the founts that flow, From hearts of fellowmen in loving strife.

That spirit more than science is the hope Of man's uplifting, and doth knowledge make Servant of individual, social worth. Not truth for truth's own sake, as tense we cope With life, but rather truth for love's own sake Calls forth heaven's plaudit round the girdled earth.

INTERNATIONAL ARBITRATION.

Boom, boom, ye mellow joy-bells, like the sea! Peace, peace on earth, good-will! (and all hell gapes!)-- Yet immemorial sadness ever drapes The upward way of far humanity: All prone through dark and strait Gethsemane Thou cam'st in blood, a cluster of trod grapes!-- O bruisëd race, whose wail so surgeful shapes Melodious sorrow's awful threnody!

Late, late, love's Areopagus unfurled Right-reason's sun-glad banner from the height, While rage the Furies in their cave beneath! Hush, hush, it is the daybreak of the world! Man's warring sky is passing out of night, And stark black demons flit with sword in sheath.

THE HOUSE OF GOD.

[G. A. G.]

No finished castle is the house of God. The mind of Christ, supremest Architect, Man's puny apprehension doth correct From age to age, and turns afresh the sod. The vast historic temple now is trod 'Neath loftier roof and heavenlier aspéct; New light, new need, revealed, each ripe defect Goes down beneath man's feet diviner shod.

Alas, humanity no more can grasp Of thought of the divine Artificer, Than holds of ocean crinkled shell on beach! Yet His unfolding plan in vital clasp Possess, O human soul, amid the stir Of speeding worlds Love's flying-goal to reach!

BEN NACHMANI.

"O the brightness, clearness, beauty of heaven! Seer Ben Nachmani," Rabbi Levi said, "Of the Hagada Master thou of seven, Would that I knew whence Light, its fountainhead?" The Master whispered in the Rabbi's ear: "The Holy One, blessëd be He, in white Himself doth robe, and then the whole world clear In beauty glows with His majestic light." "Sayest thou so? That's word for word the psalm: 'The light Thy garment is which Thou dost wear.' Thou tell'st it here a secret 'neath the palm, O Master thou of seven with whitened hair!"

_And softer fell the Master's whispered word: "I heard it this; O Rabbi, hast thou heard?"_

RENEWAL.

In the old days Vannucci, color-dowered, Lit up young eyes with vision large and pure, That gathered in its iris-glow the lure Of sea and sky, and beauty earth-embowered; And Rafael Santi on the master showered The rich-hued passion of his soul, secure In art that should for evermore endure,-- But as he wrought his vision was defloured. For sake of art divine a seer bright-stoled, Whose eyes had drunk the steadfast splendors true Of sacred gems, this precious secret told: "Oft sight of these doth color-sense renew!"

_Ah thus, true soul assoiled of life, thou ey'st, Mid thy enduring work, the quickening Christ!_

THE CHRIST.

The noonday Truth In its sevenfold beam, Is the Christ, sandal-shod; Yea, the Truth in warm gleam Of color and shine, Both of age and of youth, As on life's plains and wolds His soul's prism unfolds The white thought of God, In human passion divine.

REVELATION.

As rising waves, rich jeweled by the sun, In movement link their brilliants each to each, And flash their glories in one crest of light, E'en so, unveiling, the Eternal One Did shew Himself by signs and glimmering speech, Then flashed in Christ His love-lit glory bright.

LIGHT AT EVENTIDE.

Through skies of molten gold and green the sun Floats with its cloud-wake o'er the glowing rim Of closing day; the same horizon brim Glows green and gold with a glad day begun. So closes life's full day, its guerdon won, To those whose trustful souls are joined to Him-- The world's great Light--whose hand the splendors limn At once of breaking day and day that's done.

BEN SHALOM.

Ben Shalom read one night from out a roll: "Vessel of honor, consecrate ('O soul!') Prepared for every worthy work, and meet For the Master's use!" And finger on scroll, He prayed aloud: "Make me his silvern bowl!" Lo! Emeth at his side, God's angel fleet: "Yea, in His mansion here; and when unfold The everlasting doors, chalice of gold Brimming with His great love--heaven's vintage sweet!"

BANISHMENT.

As tiptoe dawn extinguished all the stars, There lay on a fevered flower the cooling dew; Full soon the scornful sun, with white heat glare, Forever bade the offending thing from view; But as day closed, it outshone flaming Mars, Or wheeling splendors of the Northern Bear.

NOW ARE THE BRIDALS OF THE LEAFY WOOD.

Now are the bridals of the leafy wood, O'er dusky brooks the golden sunbars fall, Birds fan the moonbeams in the balmy dark-- Look me! the banners of the holy rood Shake in the battle's roar; sweet duty's call Wings all my spirit like a soaring lark.

MAY'S FAIRY TALE.

Under the yellow chestnut tree The children played right merrily.

From leafy gold came pattering down The prickly burs with nuts of brown.

"I do believe," said bright-eyed May, "We're pelted by some startled fay!

For fairies love no tree so well As chestnut broad in which to dwell."

"Tell us a fairy tale," they said, "A fairy tale," they eager pled,

"About the fairies of to-day!" And circled round the wise-eyed May.

With air of one who tells new truth, The gentle May, with touch of ruth,

This tale of Elfland sweetly told, While all stood deep in autumn's gold:

"Long, long ago the fairies found Their homes in flowers on the ground.

The buttercups were full of them, And pansies sparkled like a gem.

But fields by men were often mown, The flowers were plucked as soon as grown.

Thus without tents to shed cold dews, The pixies lost their brilliant hues.

Their kirtles green and mantles gold Were crushed and torn and smeared with mould.

(You should have seen Mab's ermine cape, Draggled in muck till black as crape!)

At last, his gossamer hammocks gone, Their daylight king, bright Oberon,

(Who could not find two crimson heads Of clover strung with spider-webs)

And Mab, the moonlight queen of elves Took solemn counsel with themselves.

'Twas in the early summer days They met at twilight all the fays,

Under a grove with fronded plumes, Whose trees were white with spikes of blooms.

With elfin lance of wild-bee sting Stood Oberon, at the outer ring.

His knights each wore upon his breast A firefly lamp in beetle's vest.

With glow-worm crown of greenish light, Sitting her fairy palfrey white,

The queen, by wave of saffron brand, Hushed into silence fairyland.

Then with her sandaled foot she pricked Her wasp-sting spur (and palfrey kicked!)--

Her moonbeam bridle firm in grip, She plied the silken milkweed whip,

And rode straight up the waiting tree, And out each branch its blooms to see.

When Mab (her own and palfrey's wings Of gauzy blue outspread) the rings

Of wistful pixies leapt into, Sitting erect her horse so true,

In silvery laughter broke each fay, Like silvery tinkling brook in May.

Waving her saffron brand, she said: 'Fairies! your future home and bed!'

And pointed up the flower-lit tree,-- Thither they swarmed as swarms the bee!

In turn each bole and fronded roof Was trod by Elf-queen palfrey's hoof,

Till fays who bore the flame-wood lamp, Swung in their peaceful airy camp.

That was a chestnut grove they found! And as the sunny spring comes round,

Queen Mab, when shines the silver moon, And elfin bugles blow in tune,

Still rides high up each chestnut tree, That fays may know where safe they'll be,

And golden-belted Oberon Swing in his hammock like a Don,--

For palfrey prints his tiny shoe On every branch that's wet with dew.

My story's told, now for our play!" "And is the story true, O May?"

With air of one who knows the truth, The sweet-eyed May, tall for her youth,

The overhanging branch down drew, And shewed the prints of palfrey's shoe--

And laughing said: "Now you all see Why it is called _Horse_-Chestnut tree."

MY ROBIN.

[B. B. D.]

At the very dawn of day, My robin from the hill flies down, And from the fence across the way, With black cap on his handsome head, And slatish cloak and vest of red, He calls me from my easeful bed: Dear _up_, dear _up_, dear! Cheer up, cheer up, cheer!

Constant as the coming morn, He leaves his green fir copse to see If I will greet his breezy horn, And share his joy that day is here To shimmer the sea, the fog to clear, And yellow the corn of the hasting year: Dear _up_, dear _up_, dear! Cheer up, cheer up, cheer!

Ah robin, so debonair, So glad of the darkness gone away, So heedful of this heart of care, Sweet to me is your roundelay, Born of a spirit so tender, so gay,-- Let me join you in duet for aye! _Dear up, dear up, dear! Cheer up, cheer up, cheer!_

ELISSA.

I hold my secret fast! Sunset I watch, and dawn, Wait the white moonbeam cast, The pall of night down-drawn. Then in the ebon dark I whisper to myself, While every sense doth hark Lest blade, or leaf, or elf, Should catch the trembling word, And all the listening air Be to its utmost stirred, The giddy world aware!

The willow heedful is, And the titmouse peers at me, The kingcups nod and quiz With an air of mystery; But no one knows at all-- I hold my secret fast! The wizard loon may call Till night be overpast, Troops of bright eyes may smile, The people look me o'er, The parson turn the stile, Friends tarry at the door!

I hold my secret fast! Sunset I watch, and dawn, See the blue heavens o'ercast, The pall of night down-drawn; And then in raven dark I whisper to myself,-- My whitest soul ahark Lest blade, or leaf, or elf, Should hear the trembling word, And all the listening air Be to its farthest stirred, The rolling world aware

THE HUMMING-BIRD.

Thought-sudden presence Out of blank air-- Humming of wings! Here--a whisk and a flash! Sipping red balm there-- And the silence sings.

Thy will works its end In freedom complete,-- Deed flashing in sheen; Forward or backward As easeful, as fleet, As a spirit unseen.

Plumed gem all athrob, Thy ruby throat burns As from the hot kiss Of a heaven-smit soul As it panteth and yearns, In its rapture of bliss!

Thing of beauty, of life, Bright wink of a day When we'll be what we are-- Freed of this garment's hem! O soul, get thy wings, Find the red balm for aye, (Life of earth and of star!) Flash with love, a live gem!

THE HEPATICA.

Hail, first of the spring, Pearly sky-tinted thing Touched with pencil of Him Who rollest the year! Lo, thy aureole rim No painter may limn-- Vision thou hast, and no fear!

Fair child of the light, What fixes thy sight? Wide-open thy roll From the seal of the clod, And thy heaven-writ scroll Glows, beautiful soul, With the shining of God!

Thou look'st into heaven As surely as Stephen, So steadfast thy will is! And from earth's inglenook Seest Christ of the lilies And daffadowndillies, And catchest His look.

And a portion is mine, Rapt gazer divine, From thy countenance given-- Angel bliss in thy face! I've looked into heaven As surely as Stephen, From out of my place!

THE WHITE ROSE.

(AT ----'S GRAVE.)

Rose pendent in calm of the sun, (A type of my holiest thought) Fair substance and emblem in one,-- Sweet rose--sweet soul without spot! Sweetness of beauty of God Both over and under the sod.

Each moulded in earth's cloud and shine, White fulness of being complete, Love's rose of beauty divine! Thy past, but evolvings sweet, Now, moment of essence for aye, Thy future, eternity's day!

O rose in the mirror of time-- Calm image from under the sod-- O form of eternal prime, All-peaceful beauty of God,-- Fulness of seventy times seven, Made without hands, in the heaven!

What though thy time-garment fade And vanish from out of my sight, Thy beauty shall never know shade With the Chief of the sons of light-- Redeemed from under the sod, Ravishing beauty of God!

THE WAR HERCULES.

Under Mount [OE]ta The blue Artemisium, Flanked about with huge crags, Stilled its wild winter drum,-- The sun turned aside, The sea nestled in calm, Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- Rude Hercules died!

A wine-glass of azure From the breast of the bay, Caught up by the sun, Smiled on by the sun,-- Hope's halcyon ray! Kiss of love for a bride, Kiss of peace and of calm, Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- Wild Hercules died!

A nest and a home On the wintry sea, On the blue Artemise, In the rough country, Heaven set in the azure tide! The sea nestled in calm, Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- Fierce Hercules died!

O halcyon of rest, Sweet azure of peace, Brood thy sky-tinted eggs, Fill the world with increase-- On the sea's bosom ride! Now it nestles to calm, Zeus's wisdom of calm,-- Mad Hercules died!

_January, 1896._

IN THE COOL OF THE DAY.

I.

To him that hears the calling in the calm, And, naked, feeds his soul at Wisdom's lip, Bird, grove, and brook--God's voice in silver psalm-- Are like a secret honeycomb adrip.

II.

Remote in thought from every living thing, Silent the sage without his threshold sate, Pondering the mysteries of Gyges' ring, Dreaming of timeless years and iron fate.

The whirr of sudden wings his ear awoke,-- A lark rose free in its grey singing robe. "O miracle of life," in speech he broke, "A bird is greater than the solid globe!"

III.

But yesterday I saw a hillside grove Whose trunks were clad with lichens grey as frost; At night a storm of rain and wind fierce drove,-- Each bole to-day in living green's embossed!

And so, I said, the clinging lives which make Yearful and spectral those who yield them ruth, Shall, when o'er these the night in storm doth break, Wreathe them in freshness of immortal youth.

IV.

Adown the steep cliff's face I saw unurn Its waters full, a crystal brook to-day; The silvery bubbles coursed each scar by turn, Safe as on a full-fed meadow stream in May.

I thought of that sweet Scripture Satan used To tempt the Christ, and knew it true they bear In woven hands our souls, else deadly bruised, By hell thrust down some precipice's stair.

V.

Still at the breeze of day doth nature's God Forth in earth's paradisal bowers walk, And of soul-freedom, Love's restoring rod, And angel guardianship, He deigns to talk.

BEAUTY.

I.

"Had I two loaves of bread--ay, ay! One would I sell and hyacinths buy To feed my soul."--"Or let me die!"

Beauty, dew-sweet, of heavenly birth, Thy flower is writ of grief, not mirth, Thy rainbow's footed on the earth.

Rainbows and hyacinths! O seers, Your voices call across the years: "The bread of Beauty's wet with tears!

II.

The living words from Beauty's mien, Than blade by swordsman swung more keen, Spirit and soul divide between:

"Pure as the sapphire-blue from blame, Humble as glad, of holiest aim-- Love's seven-fold beam a flashing flame!"

III.

It yearns me sore, so near, so far! My heart moans like the harbor-bar, For coming of the morning star.

Buy hyacinths--a goodly share! Ascend, O soul, love's iris-stair, The bridegroom waiteth for thee there!

THE DRAGONFLY.

I.

Winged wonder of motion In splendor of sheen, Cruising the shining blue Waters all day, Smit with hunger of heart And seized of a quest Which nor beauty of flower Nor promise of rest Has charm to appease Or slacken or stay,-- What is it you seek, Unopen, unseen?

II.

Are you blind to the sight Of the heavens of blue, Or the wind-fretted clouds On their white, airy wings, Or the emerald grass That velvets the lawn, Or glory of meadows Aflame like the dawn? Are you deaf to the note In the woodland that rings With the song of the whitethroat, As crystal as dew?

III.

Winged wonder of motion In splendor of sheen, Stay, stay a brief moment Thy hither and thither Quick-beating wings, Thy flashes of flight; And tell me thy heart, Is it sad, is it light, Is it pulsing with fears Which scorch it and wither, Or joys that up-well In a girdle of green?

IV.

"O breather of words And poet of life, I tremble with joy, I flutter with fear! Ages it seemeth, Yet only to-day Into this world of Gold sunbeams at play, I came from the deeps. O crystalline sphere! O beauteous light! O glory of life!

V.