xt7xsj19m599 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7xsj19m599/data/mets.xml Cawein, Madison Julius, 1865-1914. 1909  books b92-188-30609995 English G. Richards, : London : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. New poems  / by Madison Cawein. text New poems  / by Madison Cawein. 1909 2002 true xt7xsj19m599 section xt7xsj19m599 
















NEW POEMS

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NEW POEMS

        BY

  MADISON CAWEIN
AUTHOR OF 'KENTUCKY POEMS



    LONDON
GRANT RICHARDS
      1909

 






























All rights reserved


 



             CONTENTS



        THE MISTY MID-REGION
                                       HAGE
HESPERIAN (PROFM) .    .   .    .   .    .3
'THAT NIGHT WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE     6
THE ANGEL WITH TEIE BOOK.               16
DREAM ROAD                              19
THE PLACE .26
THE ROAD                                28
THE OLD LANE                            30
A FOREST CHILD                          33
IN THE WOOD                           .36
GARDEN GOSSIP                           39
THE OLD GATE MADE OF PICKETS            41
APRILIAN                                44
A GHOST AND A DREAM                     47
TRAMPS                                  48
LILITH'S LOVER                        .55
WITCHERY                                6o
THE FOREST WAY                          65
HYLAS.      .   .   .    .      .   .   68
THE WOOD THRUSH      .   .    .      .  73
ONE WHO LOVED NATURE   .   .    .9
AVALON        .   .      .    .   .     84
THE YARROW    .   .    .   .    .   .   86
                    V

 


CONTENTS



MIDSUMMER
WILLOW WOOD
ATTRIBUTES .
A SONG OF THE ROAD
THE LESSON.
VOICES
RAINLESS
AFTER AUTUMN RAIN
SEASONS
GARDEN AND GARDENER
A PRAYER FOR OLD AGE
THE SHADOW
NIGHT AND RAIN.
HAUNTERS OF THE SILENCE
SOUNDS AND SIGHTS
FROST IN MAY
IN THE STORM
ROSE AND LEAF
'SOME RECKON TIME BY STA
DRAGON-SEED
LINCOLN
POE
MRS. BROWNING



                 PAGN
                 89
                 93
                 98
              . 102
              . 105
              . 1o6
              . 108
              . 110
              . 114


    .       .  119
              . 123
              . 128
              . 131
              . 134
              . 136
                . 39
              .  141
ARS  .   .    . 143
              . 145
              . 147
              . 150
              . 151



IN OLD NEW ENGLAND



THE NORTH SHORE
GIPSIES
WITH THE WIND .
WOOD MYTHS



                 . 155
                 . 169
                 . 172
                 . 176
vi

 


CONTENTS



BY THE ANNISQUAM
GAMMER GAFFER .



                PAGE
 . .    .   .  180
 . .    .   .  184



SILHOUETTES AND SONNETS



RIDERS IN THE NIGHT
AN EPISODE.
THE FEUD
THE MOUNTAIN-STILL
IN THE MOUNTAINS
SONG OF THE NIGHT-RIDERS
THE TOWN WITCH
THE VILLAGE-MISER
THE INFANTICIDE.
THE HERB-GATHERER
THE RAG-PICKER .
THE BOY IN THE RAIN.
TREES
CONSECRATION
THE GOLDEN HOUR
OUR DREAMS
DROUTH
PREMONITION
AFTER A NIGHT OF RAIN
A MIDSUMMER DAY
THE CLOSE OF SUMMER.
MUTATIS MUTANDIS



         1. '9
 . .    . 196
 . .    . 198
.   .    . 200
 . .     202
 . .     205
.  .    . 208
 . .    . 209
 . .    . 210
 . .    . 211
 . .    . 212
.  .     213
.  .    . 214
 . .    . 215
 . .     219
.       .220
.   .   . 222
.  .    . 223
.   .     224
 . .   . 226
.  .   . 227
.  .   . 228



Vii

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THE MISTY MID-REGION

















B

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HESPERIAN



              (PROEM)

THE path that winds by wood and stream

Is not the path for me to-dayy;
The path I take is one of dream,
That leads me down a twilight way.

By towns, nmhere myths have only been;
By streams, no mortal foot hath crossed;

To gardens of hesperian sheen,
By halcyon seas for ever lost.


By forests, moonlight haunts alone,-
(Diana with her silvery fawn;)

By fields, whereon the stars are sonm,-
(The Wildflowers gathered of the Dawn.)



B 2



3

 
HESPERIAN



To orchards of eternal fruit,
That never mortal hand shall take;
Around whose central tree and root
Is coiled the never-sleeping Snake.


The Dragon, lost in listening, curled
Around the trunk whose fruit is gold:
The ancient wisdom of the world
Guarding the glory never old.


The one desire, that leads me non'
Beyond endeavour still to try
And reach those peaks that overbron
The islanms of the sunset sky.


The purple crags, the rosy peaks
Of somewhere, nowhere; where you nvill;-
But the one place where Beauty speaks
With the Greek rapture on her still.
                 4

 
H ES PE R 1AN



Where still she joins with old Romance
And iIyth and Legend pearl-white hands,
And leads the old immortal dance
Of Song in dim immortal lands.



5

 

'THAT NIGHT WHEN         I CAME TO THE

                 GRANGE'

  THE trees took on fantastic shapes
  That night when I came to the grange;
  The very bushes seemed to change;
  This seemed a hag's head, that an ape's:
  The road itself seemed darkly strange
  That night when I came to the grange.


  The storm had passed, but still the night
  Cloaked with deep clouds its true intent,
  And moody on its way now went
  With muttered thunder and the light,
  Torch-like, of lightning that was spent
  Flickering the mask of its intent.
                     6

 

I'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



Like some hurt thing that bleeds to death,
Yet never moves nor heaves a sigh,
Some last drops shuddered from the sky:
The darkness seemed to hold its breath
To see the sullen tempest die,
That never moved nor heaved a sigh.

Within my path, among the weeds,
The glow-worm, like an evil eye)
Glared malice; and the boughs on high
Flung curses at me, menaced deeds
Of darkness if I passed them by:
They and the glow-worm's glaring eye.

The night-wind rose, and raved at me,
Hung in the tree beside the gate;
The gate that snarled its iron hate
Above the gravel, grindingly,
And set its teeth to make me wait,
Beside the one tree near the gate.
                    7

 

'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



The next thing that I knew a bat
Out of the rainy midnight swept
An evil blow: and then there crept,
Malignant with its head held flat,
A hiss before me as I stept,
A fang, that from the midnight swept.

I drew my dagger then, the blade
That never failed me in my need;
'Twere well to be prepared; indeed,
Who knew what waited there what shade,
Or substance, banded to impede
My entrance of which there was need.

The blade, at least, was tangible
Among the shadows I must face;
Its touch was real; and in case
Hate waylaid me, would serve me well;
I needed something in that place
Among the shadows I must face.
                  8

 

'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



The dead thorn took me by surprise,
A hag-like thing with twisted clutch;
From o'er the wall I felt it touch
My brow with talons; at my eyes
It seemed to wave a knotted crutch,
A hag-like thing with twisted clutch.

A hound kept howling in the night;
He and the wind were all I heard:
The wind that maundered some dark word
Of wrong, that nothing would make right,
To every rain-drop that it stirred:
The hound and wind were all I heard.

The grange was silent as the dead:
I looked at the dark face of it:
Nowhere was any candle lit:
It looked like some huge nightmare head
With death's-head eyes. I paused a bit
To study the dark face of it.
                   9

 
'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



And then I rang and knocked: I gave
The great oak door loud blow on blow:
No servant answered: wild below
The echoes clanged as in a cave:
The evil mansion seemed to knew
Who struck the door with blow on blow.

Silence: no chink of light to say
That he and his were living there,
That sinful man with snow-white hair,
That creature, I had come to slay;
That wretched thing, who did not dare
Reveal that he was hiding there.

I broke my dagger on the door,
Yet woke but echoes in the hall
Then set my hands unto the wall
And clomb the ivy as before
In boyhood, to a window tall,
That was my room's once in that hall.
                   I0

 

'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



At last I stood again where he,
That vile man with the sneering face,
That fiend, that foul spot on our race,
Had sworn none of our family
Should ever stand again: the place
Was dark as his own devil's face.

I stood, and felt as if some crime
Closed in on me, hedged me around:
It clutched at me from closets; bound
Its arms around me; time on time
I turned and grasped, but nothing found,
Only the blackness all around.



The darkness took me by the throat:
I could not hear but felt it hiss-
"Take this, you hound ! and this! and this! "-
Then, all at once, afar, remote,
I heard a door clang.-Murder is
More cautious-yet, whose was that hiss
                   II

 

'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



Oh, for a light! The blackness jeered
And mouthed at me; its sullen face
Was as a mask on all the place,
From which two sinister sockets leered;
A death's-head, that my eyes could trace,
That stared me sullen in the face.

Then silence packed the hall and stair
And crammed the rooms from attic down,
Since that far door had clanged; its frown
Upon the darkness, everywhere,
Had settled; like a graveyard gown
It clothed the house from attic down.

And then I heard a groan-and one
Long sigh-then silence.-Who was near 
Was it the darkness at my ear
That mocked me with a deed undone
Or was it he, who waited here,
To kill me when I had drawn near
                  I2

 

'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



I drew my sword then: stood and stared
Into the night, that was a mask
To all the house, that made my task
A hopeless one. Ah ! had it bared
Its teeth at me-what more to ask
My sword had gone through teeth and mask'

It was not fair to me; my cause !
The villain darkness bound my eyes.
Why, even the moon refused to rise.-
It might have helped me in that pause,
Before I groped the room, whose size
Seemed monstrous to my night-bound eyes.

What was it that I stumbled on 
God! for a light that I might see
There ! something sat that stared at me-
Some loathsome, twisted thing-the spawn
Of hell and midnight.-Was it he -
God ! for a light that I might see!
                  13

 

'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



And then the moon! thank Heaven! the moon
Broke through the clouds, a face chalk-white:
Now then, at last, I had a light!
And then I saw-the thing seemed hewn
From marble at the moment's sight,
Bathed in the full moon's wistful white.

He sat, or rather crouched, there-dead:
Her dagger in his heart-that girl's:
His open eyes as white as pearls-
Malignant-staring overhead:
One hand clutched full of torn-out curls.-
Her dagger in his heart-that girl's.

I knew the blade. Why, I had seen
The thing stuck in her gipsy hair,
Worn as they wear them over there
In Spain: its gold hilt crusted green
With jade-like gems of cruel glare.
She wore it in her gipsy hair.
                   14

 

'WHEN I CAME TO THE GRANGE'



She called it her " green wasp," and smiled
As if of some such deed she dreamed
And yet to me she always seemed
A child, a little timid child,
Who at a mouse has often screamed-
And yet of deeds like this she dreamed.

Where was she now -Some pond or pool
Would yield her body up some day.-
Poor little waif, that 'd gone astray!
And I !-oh God! how great a fool
To know so long and yet delay!-
Some pond would yield her up some day.

The world was phantomed with the mist
That night when I came from the grange.-
So, she had stabbed him. It was strange.
Who would have thought that she who kiss'd
Would kill him too !-Well,women change.-
Their curse is on the lonely grange
                  I 5

 

THE ANGEL WITH THE BOOK



WHEN to that house I came which, long ago,
My heart had builded of its joy and woe,
Upon its threshold, lo! I paused again,
Dreading to enter; fearing to behold
The place wherein my Love had lived of old,
And where my other self lay dead and slain.


I feared to see some shape, some Hope once
    dear,
Behind the arras-dead; some face of Fear,
With eyes accusing, that would sear my soul,
Taking away my manhood and my strength
With heartbreak memories.... And yet, at
    length,
Again I stood within that house of dole.
                     I6

 

THE ANGEL WITH THE BOOK



Sombre and beautiful with stately things
The long hall lay; and by the stairs the wings
Of Life and Love rose marble and unmarred
And all the walls, hung grave with tapestry,
Gesticulated sorrow; gazed at me,
Strange speculation in their dark regard.

Tihlrough one tall oriel the close of day
Glared with its crimson face and laid a ray,
A burning finger, on the stairway where
A trail of tears, as of a wounded heart,
Led to a passage with a room apart,
A room where Love had perished of despair.

Now all was empty; silent even of sighs;
And yet I felt within that room were eyes,
Unearthly eyes I dared not look upon,
That had seen God; within them hell and heaven
Of all the past. I dared not look, yet, even
As I drew back, my feet were slowly drawn
    C                17

 

THE ANGEL WITH THE BOOK



Into that room lit with those eyes. . . . I saw
An Angel standing with the Book of Law;
His raiment lightening from head to feet,
And swords of flame and darkness in his eyes,
He stood, the great Book, open as the skies,
Like some great heart throbbing with rosy heat.

One moment blazed the vision: then I heard,
Not with my ears, but with my soul, this word:-
" I am the Law through which Love is. Each one
Through me must win unto his heaven or hell.
I build the house in which all memories dwell.
Thy house is finished, and my task is done."

And where the vision burned-was nothing. Fear
Bowed me to earth; for, flaming, very near,
I felt that Angel's presence, like a spell,
That turned my eyesight inward where I saw
That this was Love, whose other name is Law,
By whom was built my House of Heaven and Hell.
                     I8

 

DREAM ROAD



I TOOK the road again last night
On which my boyhood's hills look down
The old road leading from the town,
The village there below the height,
Its cottage homes, all huddled brown,
Each with its blur of light.



The old road, full of ruts, that leads,
A winding streak of limestone-grey,
Over the hills and far away;
That's crowded here by arms of weeds
And elbows of railfence, asway
With flowers that no one heeds:
    C 2               19

 

DREAM ROAD



That's dungeoned here by rocks and trees

And maundered to by waters; there
Lifted into the free wild air
Of meadow-land serenities:
The old road, stretching far and fair
To where my tired heart sees.

That says, " Come, take me for a mile;
And let me show you mysteries:
The things the yellow moon there sees,
And those few stars that 'round her smile:
Come, take me, now you are at ease,
And walk with me a while."

And I-I took it at its word:
And friendships, clothed in olden guise,
Walked with me; and, as I surmise,
Old dreams for twenty years unheard;
And love, who gazed into my eyes
As once when youth adored.
                     20

 

I)REANI ROAD



And voices, vocal silences;
And visions, that my youth had seen,
Slipped from each side, in silvery green,
And spoke to me in memories;
And recollections smiled between
My tear-wet face and trees.

Enchantment walked by field and farm,
And whispered me on either side;
And where the fallows broadened wide
Dim mystery waved a moon-white arm,
Or, from the woodland, moonbeam-eyed,
Beckoned a filmy form.

Spirits of wind and starlight wove
From fern to fern a drowsy dance;
Or o'er the -wood-stream hung a-trance:
And from the leaves, that dreamed above,
The elfin-dew dropped many a lance
Of light and, glimmering, drove
                     21

 

DREAM ROAD



Star-arrows through the warmth and musk,
That sparkled on the moss and loam,
And shook from bells of wildflower foam
The bee-like music of the dusk,
And rimmed with spars the lily's dome
And morning-glory's tusk.

And, soft as cobwebs, I beheld
The moths, they say that fairies use
As coursers, come by ones and twos
From stables of the blossoms belled
While busily, among the dews,
Where croaked the toad and swelled,

The nimble spider climbed his thread,
Or diagramed a dim design,
Or flung, above, a slender line
To launder dews on. Overhead
An insect drew its dagger fine
And stabbed the stillness dead.
                     22

 

DREAM ROAD



And there ! far at the lane's dark end,
A light showed, like a glow-worm lamp:
And through the darkness, summer-damp,
An old rose-garden seemed to send
Sweet word to me-as of a camp
Of dreams around the bend.

And there a gate! whereat, mid deeps
Of honeysuckle dewiness,
-S'he stood-whose lips were mine to press-
How long ago !-for whom still leaps
My heart with longing and, no less,
With passion here that sleeps.

The smiling face of girlhood; eyes
Of wine-warm brown; and heavy hair,
Auburn as autumn in his lair,
Took me again with swift surprise,
As oft they took me, coming there
In days of bygone ties.
                     23

 

DREAM ROAD



The cricket and the katydid
Pierced silence with their stinging sounds;
The firefly went its golden rounds,
Where, lifting slow one sleepy lid,
The baby rosebud dreamed; and mounds
Of lilies breathed half-hid.

The white moon waded through a cloud,
Like some pale woman through a pool:
And in the darkness, close and cool
I felt a form against me bowed,
Her breast to mine; and deep and full
Her maiden heart beat loud.

I never dreamed it was a trick
That fancy played me; memory
And moonlight. . . . Yet, it well may be
The old road, too, that night was quick
With dreams that were reality
To every stone and stick.
                      24

 
DREA M ROAD



For instantly when, overhead,
The moon swam-there! where soft had gleamed
That vision, now no creature seemed-
Only a ruined house and shed.
Was it a dream the old road dreamed 
Or I-of her long dead



25

 

THE PLACE



                    I
WHEREIN is it so beautiful -
In all things dim and all things cool:
In silence, that is built of leaves
And wind and spray of waterfall;
And, golden as the half-ripe sheaves,
In light that is not light at all.

                    II

Wherein is it like joy and spring -
In petaled musk and singing wing:
In dreams, that come like butterflies
And moths, dim-winged with downy grey;
And myths, that watch with bark-brown eyes
Beauty who sleeps beside the way.
                    26

 
THE PLACE



                   III

Wherein, heart, is it all in all -
In what to me did there befall:
The echo of a word once said,
That haunts it still like some sweet ghost;
Youth's rapture, bright and gold of head,
And the wild love there found and lost.



27

 

THE ROAD



ALONG the road I smelt the rose,
  The wild-rose in its veil of rain;
And how it was, God only knows,
  But with its scent I saw again
  A girl's face at a window-pane,
  Gazing through tears that fell like rain.
'Tis twelve years now, so I suppose.

Twelve years ago. 'Twas then I thought,
  " Love is a burden bitter-sweet:
And he who runs must not be fraught:
  Free must his heart be as his feet."
  Again I heard myself repeat,
  " Love is a burden bitter-sweet."
Yet all my aims had come to nought.
                 28

 

THE ROAD



I smelt the rose; I felt the rain
  Lonely I stood upon the road.
Of one thing only was I fain-
  To be delivered of my load.-
  A moment more and on I strode.
  I cared not whither led the road
That led not back to her again.



29

 
THE OLD LANE



AN old, lost lane ;-where can it lead -
To stony pastures, where the weed
Purples its plume, or sails its seed:
And from one knoll, the vetch makes green,
  Trailing its glimmering ribbon on,
Under deep boughs, a creek is seen,
  Flecked with the silver of the dawn.

An old, green lane;-where can it go -
Into the valley-land below,
Where red the wilding lilies blow:
Where, under willows, shadowy grey,
  The blue-crane wades, the heron glides;
And in each pool the minnows sway,
  Twinkling their slim and silvery sides.
                 30

 

THE OLD LANE



An old, railed lane ;-where does it end -
Beyond the log-bridge at the bend,
Towards which our young feet used to wend:
Where, 'neath a dappled sycamore,
  The old mill thrashed its foaming wheel,
And, smiling, at its corn-strewn door
  The miller leant all white with meal.


An old, wild lane;-I know it well:
The creek, the bridge across the dell:
The old house on the orchard-swell:
The pine-board porch above the creek,
  Where oft we used to sit and dream,
Two children, fair of hair and cheek,
  Dropping our flowers in the stream.


An old, old lane;-1 follow it
In fancy; and, where branches knit,
Behold a boy and girl who sit
                 31

 
THE OLD LANE



Beside the mill-dam near the mill;
  Or in a flat-boat, old and worn,
Oar lilyward. I see them still-
  Her dress is rent, his trousers torn.


An old, lost lane.-Come, let us find,
As here I have it in my mind,
As boyhood left it far behind!
Yes; let us follow it again,
  And meet her, wild of foot and hair,
The tomboy, sweet as sun and rain,
  Whom once we worshipped to despair.



32

 

A FOREST CHILD



THERE is a place I search for still,
  Sequestered as the world of dreams,
A bushy hollow, and a hill
  That whispers with descending streams,
Cool, careless waters, wandering down,
Like Innocence who runs to town,
  Leaving the wildwood and its dreams,
  And prattling like the forest streams.



But still in dreams I meet again
  The child who bound me, heart and hand,
And led me with a wildflower chain
  Far from our world, to Faeryland:



D



33

 

A FOREST CHILD



Who made me see and made me know
The lovely Land of Long-Ago,
  Leading me with her little hand
  Into the world of Wonderland.



The years have passed: how far away
  The day when there I met the child,
The little maid, who was a fay,
  Whose eyes were dark and undefiled
And crystal as a woodland well,
That holds within its depths a spell,
  Enchantments, featured like a child,
  A dream, a poetry undefiled.



Around my heart she wrapped her hair,
  And bound my soul with lips and eyes,
And led me to a cavern, where
  Grey Legend dwelt in kingly guise,
                 34

 

A FOREST CHILD



Her kinsman, dreamier than the moon,
Who called her Fancy, read her rune,
  And bade her with paternal eyes
  Divest herself of her disguise.


And still I walk with her in dreams,
  Though many years have passed since
    then,
And that high hill and its wild streams
  Are lost as is that faery glen.
And as the years go swiftly by
I find it harder, when I try,
  To meet with her, who led me then
  Into the wildness of that glen.



D 2



35

 

IN THE WOOD



THE waterfall, deep in the wood,
Talked drowsily with solitude,
A soft, insistent sound of foam,
That filled with sleep the forest's dome,
Where, like some dream of dusk, she stood
Accentuating solitude.



The crickets' tinkling chips of sound
Strewed all the twilight-twinkling ground;
A whippoor-will began to cry,
And, staggering through the sober sky,
A bat went on its drunken round,
Its shadow following on the ground.
                  36

 

IN THE WOOD



Then from a bush, an elder-copse,
That spiced the dark with musky tops,
What seemed, at first, a shadow came
And took her hand and called her name,
And kissed her where, in starry drops,
The dew orbed on the elder-tops.

The glaucous glow of fireflies
Flickered the dusk; and fox-like eyes
Peered from the shadows; and the hush
Murmured a word of wind and rush
Of fluttering waters, fragrant sighs,
And dreams unseen of mortal eyes.

The beetle flung its burr of sound
Against the hush and clung there, wound
In night's deep mane: then, in a tree,
A grig began deliberately
To file the stillness : all around
A wire of shrillness seem unwound.
                 37

 
IN THE WOOD



I looked for those two lovers there:
His ardent eyes, her passionate hair.
The moon looked down, slow-climbing wan
Heaven's slope of azure: they were gone:
But where they'd passed I heard the air
Sigh, faint with sweetness of her hair.



38

 

             GARDEN GOSSIP


THIN, chisel-fine a cricket chipped
  The crystal silence into sound;
And where the branches dreamed and dripped
A grasshopper its dagger stripped
  And on the humming darkness ground.





A bat, against the gibbous moon,
  Danced, imp-like, with its lone delight;
The glow-worm scrawled a golden rune
Upon the dark; and, emerald-strewn,
  The firefly hung with lamps the night.
                     39

 

GARDEN GOSSIP



The flowers said their beads in prayer,
  Dew-syllables of sighed perfume;
Or talked of two, soft-standing there,
One like a gladiole, straight and fair,
  And one like some rich poppy. bloom.


The mignonette and feverfew
  Laid their pale brows together:-" See!"
One whispered: "Did their step thrill through
Your roots  "-" Like rain."-" I touched the two
  And a new bud was born in me."


One rose said to another:-" Whose
  Is this dim music song, that parts
My crimson petals like the dews  "
"My blossom trembles with sweet news-
  It is the love of two young hearts."



40

 

THE OLD GATE MADE OF PICKETS



THERE was moonlight in the garden and the chin
    and chirp of crickets;
There was scent of pink and peony and deep
    syringa thickets,
When adown the pathway whitely, where the fire-
    fly glimmered brightly,
She came stepping, oh, so lightly,
To the old gate made of pickets.

                     II
There were dew and musk and murmur and a
    voice that hummed odd snatches
Of a song while there she hurried, through the
    moonlight's silvery patches,
                     41

 

THE OLD GATE MADE OF PICKETS



To the rose-grown gate,-above her and her softly-
    singing lover,

With its blossom-tangled cover
And its weight and wooden latches.

                     III
Whom she met there, whom she kissed there, mid
    the moonlight and the roses,
With his arms who there enclosed her,-as a tiger-
    lily encloses
Some white moth that frailly settles on its gold
    and crimson petals,
Where the garden runs to nettles,
No one knows now or supposes.

                     IV
Years have passed since that last meeting; loves
    have come and loves departed:
Still the garden blooms unchanging; there is
    nothing broken-hearted
                     42

 
THE OLD GATE MADE OF PICKETS



III its beauty, where the hours lounge with sun
    and moon and showers,
Mid the perfume and the flowers
As in days when those two parted.


                     V

Yet the garden and the flowers and the cheerily
    chirring crickets,
And the moonlight and the fragrance, and the
    wind that waves the thickets,-
They remember what was spoken, and the rose
    that was a token,
And the gentle heart there broken
By the old gate made of pickets.



43

 

APRILIAN



COME with me where April twilights
Wigwam blue the April hills;
Where the shadows and the high lights
Swarm the woods that Springtime fills.

Tents where dwell the tribes of beauty,
Tasseled scouts whose camp-fires glow
Over leagues of wild-flower booty
Rescued from the camps of snow.


                 11
A thousand windflowers blowing!-
They print the ways with palest pearl,
As if with raiment flowing
Here passed some glimmering girl.
                 44

 

A PRILIAN



A thousand bluets breaking !-
They take the heart with glad surprise,
As if some wild girl waking
Looked at you with bewildered eyes.

A thousand buds and flowers,
A thousand birds and bees:-
What spirit haunts the bowers!
What dream that no one sees!


                 III
Her kirtle is white as the wild-plum bloom,
Her girdle is pink as the crab;
Her face is sweet as a wood perfume
Or haw that the sunbeams stab.

Her boddice is green as the beetle's wing
That jewels the light o' the sun;
And the earth and the air around her sing
Wherever her mad feet run.
                 45

 

APRILIAN



Her beautiful feet, that bloom and bud
And print with blossoms each place.-
Oh, let us follow them into the wood
And gaze on her, face to face.



46

 

A GHOST AND A DREAM



RAIN will fall on the fading flowers,
  Winds will blow through the dripping tree,
When Fall leads in her tattered Hours
  With Death to keep them company.


All night long in the weeping weather,
  All night long in the garden grey,
A ghost and a dream will talk together-
  And sad are the things they will have to say:


Old sad things of the bough that's broken;
  Heartbreak things of the leaf that's dead;
Old sad things no tongue hath spoken;
  Sorrowful things no man hath said.



47

 
TRAMPS



On, roses, roses everywhere-but only one for
    me!
But one wild-rose for me, my boy,-your face that's
    like the morn's;
My rose of roses, dear my lad, my dark-eyed
    Romany;
The world may keep its roses now, that gave me
    only thorns.



Oh, song and singing everywhere; the woods are
    wild with song:
One simple song I knew, my lad,-you crooned it
    in my ears;
                    48

 

TRAMPS



It cheered my way by night and day; but, oh, the
    way was long!
And all the hard world gave to me was evil words
   and sneers.



01., song and blossoms everywhere-and nature
    full of love:
But one sweet look of love was mine, and that you
    gave, my joy:
A look of love, a look of trust-they helped my
    heart enough;
They helped me bear the look of scorn, the world's
    black look, my boy.



Oh, spring and love are everywhere; soft breezes
    kiss and woo:
Your kiss was all I had, my son, to ease me of my
    woe:



E



49

 

TRAM PS



But, oh, it helped me far, dear heart; how far I
    only knew:
But otherwise nor kiss nor smile, but only curse
    and blow.



But now I'm going to die, my boy; and now I'm
    going to rest;
The road was long, and tired am I ; and only you
    will care:
Give me a kiss, 0 boy I bore !-I did what I
    thought best:
But it was bad for me, my lad; 0 boy whom 1
    did bear!



"Your father  "-Ask me not of him !-He was a
    tramp, a thief:
And I-I was a country girl-a wayward, so they
    say,
                     50

 

TRAMPS



They kept too strict, perhaps, you see; and he, he
    brought relief:
I went with him, a woman tramp, and here I am
    to-day.



My dream of bliss was brief, ah me ! Wild spring
    had played its part,
A vagabond part in vagabond blood that mates
    with any kind.-
I woke one morn upon the straw with you upon
    my heart-
The man was gone, my all was gone, and shame
    was left behind.



Since then I've tramped the road, my lad, and
    faced the rain and sun;
In snow and sleet I've trudged and begged, with
    you hugged in my arms:
    E 2             51

 

TRAMPS



Oh, few would give a wanton work, or kindly word,
    dear one!
A baby at her breast, you see-they drove me
    from their farms.



Now you are big and strong, my boy; and you are
    twelve years young;
Oh, grasp your chance, when I am gone, and leave
    the past behind:
Perhaps by you, as 'tis your due, some fortune
    may be wrung
From what I missed in life and love, some good
    luck of some kind.



Now I am going to die, my boy; just lean me
    'gainst that tree,
And dig my grave and lay me in and make no
    more delay;
                     52

 

T R A I PS



Cut all the wildflowers down around, and throw
    them there, you see,
And bring a thorn and plant it here when I am
    laid away.



Perhaps you'll come again some day when you are
    big and grown,
And have a wife and boy yourself-but do not let
    them know!
They might not understand it, lad; so you must
    come alone
And tell your mother how it goes, the one who
    loved you so.



'Tis birds and blossoms everywhere; and now, how
    strange ! I see
How life and love are smiling down, 0 face that's
    like the morn's !
                      53

 
TR A M PS



Come! lay me in my gipsy grave you dug beneath
    the tree,
Away from all the roses there and deep among the
    thorns.



54

 

LILITH'S LOVER



"And round his heart onie stranglinr goldcn hair


WHITE art thou, 0 Lilith! as the foam that
    glimmers and quivers,
Glitters and clingingly silvers and snows from the
    balm
Of the beautiful breasts of the nymphs of the seas
    and rivers
That crystal and pearl by clusters of tropical
    palm,
Forests of tenebrous palm.-
Once didst thou beckon and smile, 0 Lilith! as
    givers
Of heavenly gifts smile: and, lo! my heart no
    longer was calm.
                      55

 

LILITH'S LOVER



                      11

Cruel art thou, 0 Lilith! as spirits that battle
In tempest and night, in ultimate realms of the
    Earth;
Immaterial hosts, that shimmer and shout and
    rattle
Eleme