xt7qjq0stw34_1460 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474.dao.xml unknown archival material 1997ms474 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. W. Hugh Peal manuscript collection Frank W. Gunsaulus signed poems text 43.94 Cubic Feet 86 boxes, 4 oversize boxes, 22 items Poor-Good Peal accession no. 11453. Frank W. Gunsaulus signed poems 2017 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474/Box_14/Folder_10/Multipage4661.pdf 1894, undated 1894 1894, undated section false xt7qjq0stw34_1460 xt7qjq0stw34 0n hearing of William Watson’s illness.

“In am sorry to hear that Mr.Watson has been less well during the
present week. The nervous tension whibh always follows upon publication
may well have proved too much for him; it is to be hoped the relapse is
only momentary”.

The Critic’s” London Correspondence.

I 1
No; not the sending forth his printed lines
has robbed the poet of his calmer mood;
But finding them along this life’s confines
Where mysteries within our knowledge brood,
He faltered first,not when he spake her namei
But when Truth kissed him with her radiant flame.

Tense chords are his,and yet so fine that Day
Shining upon them for a lucent while,
Makes light too heavy; and what time his lay
euthreathes,his lovers may not speak or snile,
Lest their too urgent gladness his brain
And sheet the harp aeolian of its strain.

This is the price he pays,whose eager youth
Has waited long upon earth‘s farthest shores and strained
Dear eyes of love and longing after Truth —
This-~that ’neath lightning-flash,the vision gained,
The soul's eyes ache to rest their happy sight,
E’en though the darkness deepen into night.

The poet’s mind climbs highest;and his flesh
Refines to filament of wonderment.
This bears him up within its wing~like mesh
Until he grasps the goal of his intent;
And,holding fast the gain,his overweight
Fhlls through to flesh again,inviolate.

0 what an hour shall he,when full withdrawn
From that high tower he grapes in toward the stars,
He,fearing not its fragile steps,feels dawn
Enswathe his soul unfleshed;and through broad bars
Of morning,hight and Truth herself shall say:
“Fear not; thou livest in unclouded day.”

Christmas Night,


 The Feet and the soldier.

A poet‘s pipe lay lost within the wood,
And dryads came and played about its mouth;

Enanoured hgéezes from the fragrant South

Found all the sweetness;thoy the dryads stood

To hear new music pour its gracious wine

Beneath a bower of roses and eglantine.

A hero’s sword lay gleaming on cold ground;

Dry drops elablood were brown on edge and sheath;
And near the blade a ruined laurel-wreath

Lay rotting on a moss-grown burial-mound.

Beside them,robed in garments for the tomb,

Sat a lone maiden with a passionwbloom.

Then wild and brazen throats of righteous war

Shivered the morning stillness with their cry;

And where the truth paused tremblingly to die,
W ‘

At that last stand,a poet from afar

Willed the lost piye with music,while a youth

Baurelled and brave, waved the bare sword of Truth.

0 poet—soldiers,ye who sing and fight;

Nor pipe or sword was ever lost in vain.

New nannies form. Retreating 0*er Time's plain,
Beside your graves they stand at last for Right;
And none may say if poet’s pipe,or sword,

Win the best triumphs gfiateful years record.




Red bloom of Lesbian apple—orchards waited through long years
Falls on these shriveled parohments, like a rain of fragrant fire;
Yet burns not, save where love’s half-hidden palimpsest appears,
Flame meeting flame,in rain of Sapphp’s tears--- love’s rapt desire.
if these he leaves of song,blown hither o’er an aeon mute,
0ft eddyiug with the aeon’s tempests-—ever borne along,
How sweeter far the hour when green—hid boughs bent low with fruits
And Sappho read her love=lay,bloom and fruitage,all a song.
If these be ruins of the gems crushed ’neath the feet of time,
Firm’:“bhambered lights efen yet to love—crowned souls illuminate,
Glints of her pasSion,fragments of a flaming jewel rhyme;
What was the ooronet she wore ? O,answer,shameless late.

O’er these from Lesbos and her love—oouoh,shine reflugeut moons,

Grow thick brownih:k§le,starry jonquil,floating maiden-hair.

Out of her heart-throb,quiok and troubled,breath aeolian tunes;
Red Oleander,loveeemblazoned,tints the dreamy air.
These be not vineyards on the hi11side,olustered fruit and vine:
These be not blossoms in the valley,gold of daffodil:-~
These are the red drops,in'time's.ohallice,of love's wildering wine:

These are the perfume from life’s garden Sappho’s songs distil.
37w 2W