Chapter 1
Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: Theodore H. Rand. _After a painting by J. W. L. Porter_]
SONG-WAVES
BY
THEODORE H. RAND
D. C. L.
_Author of "At Minos Basin and other Poems," "A Treasury of Canadian Verse."_
TORONTO
WILLIAM BRIGGS
1900
Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand nine hundred, by EMELINE A. RAND, at the Department of Agriculture.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
To EMELINE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
SONG-WAVES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 A bird on sudden, as I write . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Above the scarred cliff's iron brow . . . . . . . . 23 Across the hills the cattle call . . . . . . . . . . 39 After the winds there is surcease . . . . . . . . . 24 All day an ashen light serene . . . . . . . . . . . 55 A quiet breath distils in calm . . . . . . . . . . . 33 As on a hill-top near the sun . . . . . . . . . . . 46 As turns my heart its crimson leaves . . . . . . . . 53
Break into flower, O garden fair . . . . . . . . . . 93
Calm soul, unkindled by the sight . . . . . . . . . 36 Celestial sweetness swift outstrips . . . . . . . . 61
Dimly beheld, thou excellent . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 Doubt flies before the truth that's quired . . . . . 28
Fair as the light on fire-tipt hills . . . . . . . . 58 Far off and veiled it seems to me . . . . . . . . . 34 Far up the brook, beyond the lin . . . . . . . . . . 78 Filled oft with portents, oft withdrawn . . . . . . 25 Frail Lucia of a mutual love . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Fresh sprig of greenest southernwood . . . . . . . . 49
Green tracery of fern to rust . . . . . . . . . . . 74
Hail, Mary, honored of the race . . . . . . . . . . 86 Her steps fall sweet as summer rain . . . . . . . . 60 Hope's clear blue eye is open wide . . . . . . . . . 82 How swift soft-feathered Time sails on . . . . . . . 71
I dreamed I drew my parting breath . . . . . . . . . 80 I feel the season's dreamy call . . . . . . . . . . 50 If mighty angels fair and tall . . . . . . . . . . . 38 I keep one picture in my heart . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Immortal Love, immortal ruth . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 Impressions vast and vague flow in . . . . . . . . . 19 I see that power is not in art . . . . . . . . . . . 83 I would enshrine in silvern song . . . . . . . . . . 13
Like oxeye daisies of the field . . . . . . . . . . 91 Look now! The crested waters sleep . . . . . . . . 70 Love bows herself in holy prayer . . . . . . . . . . 45 Love's inspirations of the lyre . . . . . . . . . . 90
Man's highest word, as God's above . . . . . . . . . 44 Men plow and sow while moves the sun . . . . . . . . 27 My quickened sense can only plod . . . . . . . . . . 72
Never before has my ear heard . . . . . . . . . . . 56
O glorious light! Thy limpid wave . . . . . . . . . 85 O June has lit her splendid lamp . . . . . . . . . . 32 O patriot, ruler, leader great . . . . . . . . . . . 88 O soul that art essential change . . . . . . . . . . 17 Over the brow of lofty scar . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
Philosophy doth dig and draw . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 Pure lily, open on the breast . . . . . . . . . . . 30
Revolving without rest and goal . . . . . . . . . . 31
Says one who with the sad condoles . . . . . . . . . 76 Spirit of song, life's golden ray . . . . . . . . . 18 Sunshine, O soul, is not a mood . . . . . . . . . . 47 Superbest power with sweetness wed . . . . . . . . . 22 Sure in this realm of Sense and Time . . . . . . . . 54 Sweetheart, I dedicate to thee . . . . . . . . . . . 16
The bird of needle beak, and breast . . . . . . . . 29 The flecks of gold that glorify . . . . . . . . . . 41 The full ripe year, these maple hills . . . . . . . 79 The ideal is a lifting sky . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42 The infinite in grand repose . . . . . . . . . . . . 66 The mirrored silence of this pool . . . . . . . . . 68 The scarlet arch of evening fills . . . . . . . . . 63 The sovereign law of human life . . . . . . . . . . 92 The spirit firm and swelling soul . . . . . . . . . 43 The sweep, O heart, of Love's account . . . . . . . 21 The sword and spear and savage knife . . . . . . . . 89 The "trees of God," the prophet said . . . . . . . . 40 The world's a train at speeding rate . . . . . . . . 8l There are no solitudes to view . . . . . . . . . . . 37 There ever wakes an evil wraith . . . . . . . . . . 77 This golden-browed September land . . . . . . . . . 51 This tiny life, with exquisite wings . . . . . . . . 64 Thus wrought the Seen-Unseen the spell . . . . . . . 15 'Tis fit the bloodroot in white hood . . . . . . . . 20 Two lives made one, the man and wife . . . . . . . . 67
Unnumbered traits shine in thy face . . . . . . . . 62 Unveiled as kinsman, Love did seek . . . . . . . . . 84
Vast promise is the sea, and vast . . . . . . . . . 35
We talked of bird and flower and tree . . . . . . . 14 What nature mirrors and reveals . . . . . . . . . . 73 What though the sea-shell cheats the ear . . . . . . 75 Who loveth not the elm tree fair . . . . . . . . . . 26 With lathe of viewless hyaline . . . . . . . . . . . 59
THE WHITETHROAT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
SUMMER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
GLORY-ROSES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100
THE WIND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
THE CRYSTAL SPRING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
AY ME! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111
THE YEARS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
THE NOTE OF NATURE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
AT THE FORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
REPOSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120
[Greek: _ta panta e'n au'to sunesteken_.] (In Him all things hold together.)
{13}
TO EMELINE.
I would enshrine in silvern song The charm that bore our souls along, As in the sun-flushed days of summer We felt the pulsings of nature's throng;
When flecks of foam of flying spray Smote white the red sun's torrid ray, Or wimpling fogs toyed with the mountain, Aerial spirits of dew at play;
When hovering stars, poised in the blue, Came down and ever closer drew; Or, in the autumn air astringent, Glimmered the pearls of the moonlit dew.
{14}
We talked of bird and flower and tree, Of God and man and destiny. The years are wise though days be foolish, We said, as swung to its goal the sea.
Our spirits knew keen fellowship Of light and shadow, heart and lip; The veil of Maya grew transparent, And hidden things came within our grip.
And then we sang: "In Arcady All hearts are born, thus happy-free, Till film of sin shuts out the Vision That is, and was, and that is to be."
{15}
Thus wrought the Seen-Unseen the spell To which our spirits rose and fell. As drops of dew throb with the ocean, We felt ourselves of His tidal swell.
"Nature's enchantment is of Love,-- Goodness, and truth, and beauty wove; In Him all things do hold together, And onward, upward to Him they move."
And as we spake the full moon came, A splendid globe in silver flame, From out the dusky waste of waters, Reposeful sped by His mighty name.
{16}
Sweetheart, I dedicate to thee These Song-Waves from life's voiceful sea. They ebb and flow with swift occasion, Bearing rich freight, and perhaps debris.
Each murmuring low its song apart May hint a symphony of art, Since under all, within, and over, Is diapason of Love's great heart.
For thee, as on the bridal day, (Sweet our November as the May!) Are joined in one our high communings; So take them, dear, as thine own, I pray.
TORONTO, 1900.
{17}
SONG-WAVES
O soul, that art essential change, Bickering beams, a flutter strange, Lightning of thought and gust of passion, A silver thread in this mountain range;
The waters of thy shimmering rill, More real are they than granite hill; Thy tremulous waves of mystic feeling Nourish a life of enduring will.
The sun and moon from spacious height, And stars, may crumble into night; Why shouldst thou cease to move forever, A living glow of eternal light?
{18}
Spirit of Song, life's golden ray That burneth in this house of clay, Despite the stress of blast and tempest To quench the flickering light and play;
Rapture of seraphs bright thou art, Yet kindlest in the human heart The fluid soul's upbreathed emotion, Whose light shines clear as a star apart,--
A fairer light of sweeter fame Than science knows to praise or blame, Wherein the soul has open vision, And feels the glow of His holy flame.
{19}
Impressions vast and vague flow in From Somewhat that to me is kin. Shall I assemble them all careless In the mind's garret or waste dust-bin?
Nay. In solution in the soul's Own hot equators, frosty poles, I'll more and more their import cherish, Their deeps on deeps to my shelving shoals.
O heart, with tentacles in sea, Like oral-disked anemone, Taste thou the wine of shoreless oceans, And feed on food that was meant for thee!
{20}
'Tis fit the bloodroot in white hood Should brave the parting winter's mood,-- Come, thou, pale violet, streaked, sweet-scented, Beside the runs of this tempered wood.
I hunger for thy gentle face, Sweetest of all the wildwood race! O flower, at once ideal and essence, Why stayest thou from thy wonted place?
Thou art not dead? Nay, when death crept Upon thy form, thy full life leapt Defiance at the harsh destroyer, And slept as seed! Thou hast overslept.
{21}
The sweep, O heart, of Love's account! Hearken: "I am of life the Fount; All are within My deeps of Being, The toiling city, the sea, the mount.
"Yea, when thou cleav'st the pillared tree, Raisest the stone, I am with thee; Darkness and light, flux and becoming, Signal My presence, and ceaselessly.
"Regard Me not as though afar; Ope thine heart's eyes, and, lo, My Star Burns 'neath Time's vesture, true Shekinah, Centre and Soul of the things that are."
{22}
Superbest power with sweetness wed The inner eye doth overspread, And vasts of nature blend as beauty Suffused with awe at the Fountain Head.
The stream of power that floweth here I see in pageant of the year, Aye shimmering as light and shadow-- A wonderment on the verge of fear!
The world's not dead but animate, And gives as free to mean as great; Wealth of true power is not a kingdom Of time and place, but the soul's estate.
{23}
Above the scarred cliff's iron brow There speeds the fruitful crooked plow; While on the soft west wind come odors Of plumy pine and of balsam bough.
Here at the base another sight-- It ceaseth not by day nor night-- Ormudz and Ahriman contending, Destroyer dark and White Soul of light!
Bared by life's ever beating brine, The rocky bases that define Of good and ill the place of meeting, Be bugle-call to this heart of mine!
{24}
After the winds there is surcease; Take courage, heart, and be at peace; The printless beach, all combed and shining, In beauty lies with its windrow fleece.
Impetuous as a torrent's speed White horses raced this watery mead, With manes of chrysoprase aflowing, Each neighing loud to its neighbour steed.
The wastes that finger pebbly shores, Unplowed by ship nor cut by oars, His music wake as sweet as attar, And flash in light as the heavenly floors.
{25}
Filled oft with portents, oft withdrawn, My inward skies, from earliest dawn To this full hour, have borne their witness Of one who out of the darkness shone.
The soul is dowered with awful things, Mystic as sound of unseen wings,-- The sense of God, of Law, of Duty, Of Life, and Destiny. Signet rings
Flash on these fingers of one hand-- The Hand of God! The mean, the grand, Tremble beneath the fearsome covert Till lurid sky with the Rainbow's spanned.
{26}
Who loveth not the elm tree fair, A fountain green in summer air, Whose tremulous spray cools the faint meadow, And croons to all of a careless care?
It shades the city's paven way, Where redbreast knows the white moon's ray; It sentinels the moss-grown homestead, And waits the men of a coming day.
Its curving lines that fill the sight, Like mellow meteor's path of light, Or orbed spring of walls of azure, My spirit greet from the infinite.
{27}
Men plow and sow while moves the sun Away, away from work begun; Ofttimes they've heard "Seedtime and harvest Are sure"--the word of the Sovereign One.
We link our deeds with law supreme, In field and flood, in wood and stream; We test Omnipotence by labor, And reap rewards of no idle dream.
Obedience is the astringent wine That's quaffed by strenuous souls and fine, Of cloudy doubt the heavenly solvent, The Christ's elixir of life divine.
{28}
Doubt flies before the truth that's quired When earth in living green 's attired, As ghosts before the daystar's rising,-- The grass is ever God finger-spired.
When life is low my awe-stirred soul No vision has of nature's whole; It would unsheathe a weapon naked And cut the bands of divine control.
The Nazarene knows no decrease,-- He shed His beams on Rome and Greece! O radiant is His word: Consider The springing grass, and have rest and peace!
{29}
The bird of needle beak, and breast Of orange flame, doth weave its nest At tip of branch, a cradle swinging To all the airs of the south and west.
Who schooled thy needle to begin Its forth and back and out and in, Till plaited cot, a gourd-like pendant, Shall temper winds to thy first of kin?
Thy sun-bright mate, his joy to prove, Flutes sweet his ardors from above. O golden robin, skyey-nested, Thou rockest safe in the arms of Love.
{30}
Pure lily, open on the breast Of toiling waters' much unrest, Thy simple soul mounts up in worship Like ecstasy of a spirit blest!
Thy wealth of ivory and gold, All that thou hast, thou dost unfold! Fixed in the unseen thy life breathes upward A heavenly essence from out earth's mould.
Now comes the chill and dusk of night,-- Folds up thy precious gold and white! Thy casket sinks within veiled bosom, To ope the richer in morrow's light.
{31}
Revolving without rest and goal The way of life of budding soul, From seed to leaf and stalk, I see it, From leaf to bloom and from bloom to whole.
About the Daystar, God-indwelt, It turneth to His influence felt, Till, dusk beam-smitten into daylight, It in the palpitant heavens doth melt.
Lift, lift, ye gates of endless noons, That entrance yield on God's own boons Of liberty as law in fruitage, And timeless months of transcendent Junes!
{32}
O June has lit her splendid lamp In the broad meadow lush and damp, Where loves the brook in loops to loiter, And tufted vernal to pitch its camp!
Last night she veiled the starlit sky, And walked beside the brook so shy; She took from out her beating bosom A lighted orchis--and passed on high.
At dawn July came o'er the hills-- O light of eye and deep heart-thrills, As she beheld the glowing orchis Whose splendor now all the meadow fills!
{33}
A quiet breath distils in calm, And fills the fields with honeyed balm; It cools the rose's cheek, and rolleth In drops of dew on the poppy's palm--
Each crystal globe filled full of fire, And flashing like a color pyre, All heavened beneath the eye of morning, To sate the hunger of day's desire.
O Breath divine, that form and hue, And ecstasy of light and blue, Gave to Orion and the Pleiads, Thou hast begotten the orbs of dew.
{34}
Far-off and veiled it seems to me, The face of yester dreamy sea, That breathed so soft its shining waters Pungent with odors of rosemary.
No sculptured arabesque to-day, But unhewn strength in mighty play, That heaves the ship on bursting billow And smites the cliff in its ancient way!
Beneath its silken vestments beat A lion heart of jungle heat; Its couchant soul delights in battle To fell the rock and to whelm the fleet.
{35}
Vast promise is the sea, and vast Its pain. Its secret is held fast,-- Now hope's wide open eye and sunny, And now a weeping and wailing past.
(I have a grievance unredrest That stings my heart and rends my breast,-- Perhaps _it_ gathers in its bosom The sorrows wild of the world's opprest?)
Deformity or pain unstrings The music of the soul of things,-- Ah, suns burn bright in eyes of panther, And lightnings leap in the eagle's wings!
{36}
Calm soul, unkindled by the sight Of open heavens at noon of night, Thou'lt dread the fires of day of judgment When roll the skies as a parchment slight.
He waits not for that upward gaze-- The world is full of judgment days; And every night the page is written, "An atheist," or "Behold he prays!"
Ah, me! These lights so manifold, So silvern new, so golden old, Do witness swift, like fires of vengeance, Against indifferent hearts and cold.
{37}
There are no solitudes to view, The whole world lies in drop of dew; From where it hangs all space is open; It neighbors stars of the crystal blue.
This open vision has my soul Athrill with silent organ-roll Of immanence divine, and feels it Upgather all in harmonious whole,--
Deep waves of God's vast music clear, That pulse one choral atmosphere Of Love's concordant purposes, and Fore-score the song of His golden year.
{38}
If mighty angels fair and tall, Each robed as priestly seneschal, On altar-suns burn incense daily, As wheel the systems to Love's sweet call,
Earth's sun is sure an altar-rose, Abloom from dawn to day's bright close. The mighty angel stoops above it With pulsing wings, as it golden glows,
To fan the incense-waves through space. When buds the light or folds its grace, He lifts erect his glorious stature, Kindling the sky from his ruddy face.
{39}
Across the hills the cattle call, As black the boding shadows fall; Zigzag the lightning writes its message That's thundered forth from the mountain wall.
From out the overhanging frown The loosened rain comes rattling down! The swallow's gone, the daisy cowers-- But joy to fields in their tan and brown!
The burnished cypher of the sky Now lets the loud-tongued thunder die. Nature's delight, a timeless rapture, Glows in her face and rekindled eye.
{40}
The "trees of God," the prophet said, Great trees, with sap, and laurelled head; Ay, trees of God! all strength, all beauty, Wove by invisible Hand and thread,--
With anchors flexed as lissome withe; With boles like mighty monolith; These arms of brawn, outstretched in power To brave the storms that would test their pith!
Lords of the scene in blasts and calms, The breath of life within their palms, They rhythmic sway in choral murmur While seas and suns chant their rolling psalms.
{41}
The flecks of gold that glorify The forest floors to loving eye, Withdraw from me,--a splendor lingers On trees of God, in their crowns on high.
And as the arch with stars is sprent, I hear balm-dew from firmament Drip richly from their whispering leafage To soothe the fields to a sweet content.
In bloom of dark they softly stir, Till arrowy dawn the shadow-blur Dispels--God's tingling kiss of morning On oak and maple and pine and fir.
{42}
The ideal is a lifting sky Wherein my soul may upward fly; It moveth as I onward journey, Solace of heart and the light of eye.
Spirit to spirit! Thus is wrought All that uplifts the world of thought Or wings the soul with aspiration, By which the life to its height is brought.
Great souls the mount of vision trod, While plumy fire their sandals shod; They saw the unseen and eternal. O life is life when 'tis seen in God!
{43}
The spirit firm and swelling soul Are heart of noble self-control, Sources of power transmuting danger To clarion-call to the man as whole.
'Tis courage helms the bark that's tost By wild typhoon, or swept by frost, While sailing life's surprising ocean,-- Strike sail to fear and the bark is lost.
O muse, thou sing'st no siren strain To him who plows this heaven-domed main! Thy starry eyes look down all-wistful On souls that toy with a tangled skein.
{44}
Man's highest word, as God's above, The golden word of words, is love; Its whisper is the soul's one rapture, Its voice the voice of the brooding dove.
Immortal rose of joy elate, Thy perfume's waft by palace gate Or hovel door, in cloud or sunshine, That breath of Eden which all hearts wait.
Ensouled in clay man's glory is, Yet love dilates this soul of his Till chrysalis of earth be shattered, And comes the answer to Psyche's quiz.
{45}
Love bows herself in holy prayer To worship ever the All Fair; She coins her heart in largess golden, And beggars self on her altar-stair.
Love lifts her hands that, liker yet To One whom on the way she met, All hearts may glow, as sea to sky light, Till earth shall never its heaven forget.
Love bears upon her ardent breast The fainting ones in east and west, And yearning cries: Let come Thy kingdom, Be Thou of sorrowing hearts the guest.
{46}
As on a hill-top near the sun The stars are unseen, every one, While from its base within the valley Their festal pomp is e'en now begun;
So lowly lives 'mid shadows passed Have higher skies above them massed, See galaxies and constellations-- The many mansions o'er them englassed.
Encamped am I; earth's not my home. The glory flashing 'neath yon dome, Refusing to be leashed, like music, Supernal is, and it beckons, Come!
{47}
Sunshine, O soul, is not a mood-- Open the life unto the good. The great sun globes itself at morning In dewy lawns, but 'tis dark in wood.
Up, up, and purge thy spirit's sight. See wheeling wings, superb in flight, Of golden eagle's aspiration! E'en thus aspire to the Central Light.
In loom divine the clouds are wove, And shot with hues of irised dove, The blinding shafts of light to temper With airy curtains of Love's own love.
{48}
A bird on sudden, as I write, Through open door in eager flight Seeks refuge from a falcon's talons, Upon my breast, in its fearful plight.
Slight bird and dark in olive green, With yellow throat, thy living sheen Doth come and go with thy heart's throbbing,-- Safe, safe art thou from his talons keen!
I am as God to thee, poor thing! Now take thee to thy heaven and sing A virelay for thy deliverance, Sweet vireo of the olive wing!
{49}
Fresh sprig of greenest southernwood, Thou call'st me back to my childhood! Thy aromatic odors waken A thousand echoes. I hear the good
Old man of God, long-haired and tall, In the old church, to great and small, His lightning message give, and listen The echoing thunder that rolled o'er all.
The tiny child twirls oft its spray Of southernwood,--'tis a far day, Yet fresh I smell the keen aroma, See arms ahovering--"Let us pray!"
{50}
I feel the season's dreamy call In hawkbit, asters, 'pyeweed tall,-- Glory of August ere September Trumpet the note of the hasting fall.