fyxmW Winivmii^ JiJmg THE GIFT OF .K.Q.A. 2041 Cornell University Library PS 3505.H49D7 Dreams of Hellas and other poems,by AnnI 3 1924 022 323 335 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022323335 DREAMS OF HELLAS AND OTHER POEMS BY ANNIE ELIZABETH CHENEY LLOYD PUBLISHING CO. NEW YORK AND LOS ANGELES 1917 COPYRIGHT, 1917 BT WILLIAM ATWELL CHENEY Dedicated TO William Atwell Cheney CONTENTS PAGE Dkeams of Hellas Part One — ^Daphnis 11 Part Two — Psyche . 20 Part Three— Athos .... .... 27 Phrtne 37 Miscellaneous Poems The Heart of my Song ... 42 Passion ... 42 "Queen of the Broideied Throne" 43 Magic ... .... 43 Adonis ... 44 The Gardens of the Hesperides . . 45 O Music, Love and Light! .... .46 O Think of Me! . . 47 The Bird of Paradise .48 Your Eyes — Passion 49 Hyacinthus ... 49 A Fragment SO Rhythm 50 Who Are the Men That Do Things? 61 A Coyote Prowled 52 Even the Rock 52 Constant? 53 Smiling ... 63 Laughing .... 54 The West 55 O Let Me Sing! ... 56 O Beautiful Boy! 56 A Broken Wing 58 O Sing and Sing More 69 The Roses 59 ii CONTENTS MiscEUiANEOus PoEMS — (Continued) page O Memory! 60 The Scarab 61 The Lotus— Fancy .61 "WhatisaPriend?" 62 Your Friends 63 Tones Celestial .63 Fragment . . 65 Forever 66 A Fair California Day 67 Peace 68 The Wireless 69 A Bhapsody 70 O Let Me Dream My Dream! 75 But Alas! 76 A Cheat , 76 Foam 77 Isolate 77 Efficient, Primitive and More 77 Misery 79 Forgetting . . 79 The Fffst and Last 80 O Shining Moon 81 Far Land 81 Rubies 81 Orchestral 82 The Sleep of Brahm 83 The Master 86 Have I Forgot? 86 Herself 88 Hush! — ^A Fragment 89 Lone Bird 89 Fragment ... 89 Seaphita ... 90 The Song 90 . Love, Be Kind! 91 Lovers 91 Poise 92 Sorrow 92 Mona Lisa 92 Bed Bose 93 O Bose! 93 Where? 93 A Memory 94 Vanished ! 95 To Helen ! 96 CONTENTS iii Miscellaneous Poems — (Continued) page Captured 97 Happiness 97 Thy Name? .98 Happiness — ^Alas! 99 There's a Boy in the House 99 Ashes — A Fragment 102 Pain— What? 103 Harpstrings 103 A ^Fragment 105 The Whistler 105 Beauty 106 Extremes 106 The Emerald — ^Immortality 107 The Stars 108 Success 108 Louise 109 Fragment 109 Eadb Day 110 To Sarah Elizabeth Lloyd Ill Doom ... 112 Near Asia 112 Poems of Place Massachusetts 115 California 116 The Cliffs of San Juan 118 The Blue Grotto 119 Domr€my 119 Vale Yosemite! 120 The Most Beautiful! — ^At the Mosque of Sultan Hassan . 121 The Temple of Minerva 121 At the Mosque of Mohammed Ali 122 The Desert Loth— Iran 122 The Pearl of the Antilles 123 A Sierra Minster .... .... 123 From Lesbos . . 125 Attica 126 InThessaly 127 Kailasa .127 Aspasia — ^Mdetus . 128 The Taj Mehal .129 1 Have Been Under Irish Skies . . 131 Among the Azores 132 iv CONTENTS Poems of Place — (Continued) page The Mediterranean 132 The Euphrates 133 A Kiss 135 Old Cathay Chang Tzu 136 'Twas in the Days of Sanghu 137 Ah Kim 189 The Light on Namsan 141 Nippon The Sword of Old Japan 142 Nippon's "Go-Down" 144 Akagi 145 O the Saki of Kioto! ... 146 Renderings from the Japanese Suma Beach, Japan (Kinza Hirai) 147 Otowa Falls, Japan (Kinza Hirai) 147 On the Genkai Sea (Kinza Hirai) 148 The Nightingale 149 A Love Poem 160 The Cherry 150 The Plum 151 Palace of Prince Boyal 152 Gazing Upon the Capital 152 The Willow Tree Near Saidaiji 152 To What Can the World be Compared? . . . .152 Russia To Lermontov 153 To My Russian Friend P. A. Demens 154 Renderings from the Russian of Lermontov Oath of the Demon ... 156 Extract from the Poem of Lermontov written in 1837 on the Death of Pushkin 158 The Gifts of Terek 158 CONTENTS Renderings from the Russian of Lermontov — (Continued) The Rock The Valley of Groosia On the Dnieper — Winter . On the Dnieper — Dawn The Gates of the Caucasus 162 162 163 164 164 Egypt The NUe A Tale of Ehem 166 170 ClBCE Circe — My Apology Part One— The Sea (Actaeon) . Part Two— The Desert (Nana) Part Three— The Mountain (Leon) 185 188 198 209 DREAMS OF HELLAS PART ONE— DAPHNIS PART TWO— PSYCHE PART THREE— ATHOS PART ONE DAPHNIS HellaS;, mother of Immortals, Did Zeus witli lightning quicken thee. Or Helios kindle fires within thy breast? The hem of thy enchanted robe Is kissed by amorous seas; Did sly Poseidon steal within thine arms When rose the impassioned Deep, Or were thy sons conceived Through Love descending from the skies. Or by the rays of iridescent stars? And were thy daughters nursed upon a breast Whose milk thou didst secrete from honeyed flowers? A dreamer dreamed beside the sea. He pondered wonderingly on man. And age and death. The ancient, young, the deep, deep sea. The sea alive. Between the dim and distant isles And upland of the hazy hills Great Helios lies in couch of gold. And watches with his sleepy eyes The soft and ever-changing view, II 12 DREAMS OF HELLAS Designed with tender tints and true On misty background of the skies. The limner streams the blue and red. The amethyst and purple dyes. Along the water's foamy edge And up the lofty vault Of heaven's dusky dome. Far cities with their minarets And pale dim seas with phantom ships, Fair maids with robes of filmy lace. Grim scenes of war with charging steeds. Green islands where young lovers dream. With forests dim where Cupids hide. All these he paints, while singing winds TriU music into raptured ears. And crashing in, and rushing on, The white-maned valiant ocean steeds Dash up the sandy beach. At last the poet slept, while frothy waves Stole softly over sandalled feet And fringed with bubbling foam His clinging robe. A haze more golden than his hair. Through whose pure sheen The drowsy sun sent parting beams. Fell like a blessing on his form. Sweet visions of young pleading eyes, Sea-tinted, changing like the deep. Entranced his dreaming soul. DAPHNIS 13 The god of Love stole softly by^ While sea-nymphs tangled in his locks Small shells and dripping moss. And one — ah one! — ^bent low and kissed his brow. O mnsic, beauty, bliss! A song was born to that mad kiss. And music rolled within his ears To torture his too happy soul With still more happiness. He plunged to gloomy ocean depths And roamed about in crystal caves. He rose to lofty mountain peaks And floated in ethereal space. He rode upon the rushing stars And lashed his chariot steeds of suns Across the trackless sky. With sudden start the dreamer wakes. Thou art most charming, Daphnis, and most fair. Some siren needs must envy thee thine eyes; Another fain would steal thy yellow hair. Hellenic maids by ruse alone can win Such dazzling whiteness as thy skin. Too fair art thou for virile man. And yet a man thou surely art; No sign of weakness can be traced In thy strong sinewy limbs. Methinks thou shouldst contest For honors at Olympic games. Ah! woman fain might kneel in joy to thee And sue for love eternally. 14 DREAMS OF HELLAS "What news ?" he said. "Ah, me ! I've slept, And yet the rhythmic wheel turns round. The ancient comes again to light. Poor fools are we who see no farther Than our eyes can roam. To-day is but a slow return Of some sad, other day Which has been lived before. "What cheat is that within the mind That touches up the old With powders, paints and dyes. To call it new? "And yet, and yet, I know that he Who views the sea, the sky, and man Through love's clear, truthful lens Perceives a beauty, changing, yet unchanged. Innumerable in One. "I know not. love this hour, But what of love, Uranian love! Desire transcendent in delight Yet never satiate? Hast thou not felt the subtle thrill That steals from virgin hearts to clinging hands. The magic fire that flashes from the eye And kindles in another's breast A never-dying flame? To wander in the hazy realm of soul, To revel in its sweets DAPHNIS 15 And pluck its flowers of thought. Aye, to explore its depths, Is losing self in maze of Paradise. "And Fame, O what of Fame? A fickle wanton Is this cherubLn of Hell. "Thou art not dear to me, O Fame ! I asked for love, upon my knees I plead for friendship — thou didst come. I spurn thee as I ever spurn The tempter of a struggling god. I scorn thee as I ever scorn Seducers of a blushing maid. What offerest thou in lieu of love? Show me thy charms, and weigh them now Against the beauty of a friend. "When I would grasp thy hands outstretched I wring mine own in grief. When I would fold thee in mine arms Thou meltest as the tearful snow Beneath a heavenly kiss. O, go and stay, forever stay Beside the soul that longs for thee! Twine thou the bay about his brows. And cut his name in marble shafts Till thy worn chisel breaks. Announce the centuries with blasts Of trumpet's heralding. 16 DREAMS OF HELLAS Invoke wild thunders to delight His ears insatiate. But leave thou me, I called thee not. I toss my laurels at thy feet, I bribe thee with my jewelled rings, I kiss the border of thy robe And cringing beg of thee, depart! O leave! and I will pray the gods To send me one adoring friend. "And thou, O Muse, come tell to me The secret of my joy! What strange afflatus, subtle, strong, And sweet with perfume dost thou breathe, That by the magic of thy wUe In face of death I still do smile? Tell me, O Muse, thy charm! Dost thou look out from eyes of doves. Or warble in the throats of larks? Art thou concealed in misty lace That trembles near a woman's heart? Dost thou go singing on in brooks. Or clingest thou about the pine In emerald moss? Art thou the voice within the wind That rings along the cloud? Art thou the spirit of the fire Which shines in starry space. Or dost thou thunder from the deep Which bears upon its restless breast The heaving, foam-flecked waves? DAPHNIS 17 "And, thou. Old Age! O what of thee? Thou hateful, noisome thing! That leavest trails of slime along thy path. And spittest venom at fair youth. Thou vampire, sucking children's veins ! Thou carrion-bird, gorged with decay! Thou animated corpse! That crunchest with thy toothless jaws A scrap to keep thyself alive; Touch thou not me! The heart that loves is ever young. "O Shade, phaatasmal Death! Why lurkest thou in shadowy places dark, unseen. To breathe thine icy breath on me? Thou canst not chill a heart that loves !" He bared his head unto the storm. And faced with folded arms The charging blast. The lightning wreathed him round and round In curling tongues of flame; The thunders, impotent, denounced. But still he stood unmoved and smiled. "And Psyche what of thee?" he asked, For Daphnis heard the singing Through the garden ringing. So lifting up his eyes. He called Adonis from the skies. "Adonis, speak! what bringest thou? I long to sleep upon thy breast. 18 DREAMS OF HELLAS Upon thy heart I beg to rest. Or waken to thy tender eyes And dream again of Paradise, Of streams where white-limbed naiads play And deck their locks in jewelled spray. Of breezes wantoning with trees. And islands born of sapphire seas. Of stars enticing stars in skies Whose blue would rival Psyche's eyes. Of blushing mountains kissed by dawns. Each redder than her sister mom, And lovers — ^how my heart doth beat! — Say truly, can love be so sweet. Celestial, pure, eternal, mine, Inspiring, like a subtle wine. Delighting with its smouldering fire. Desire born gently from desire, A bird which dreams upon the wing Or pierces heaven again to sing, A star that wheels towards passion's goal To quench its quenchless burning soul, A song which catches 'mid the calm The echo of its thrilling charm, A rhythmic sea enamored yet Of moons it never can forget? Speak, speak to me! what bringest thou? Adonis, speak! and bless me now." Adonis: "Immense abyss of blue ethereal gleam, Wild oceans raging over earth DAPHNIS 19 Are naught to Love And his eternal dream. No depth was yet so dark, so deep. That Love could not explore; No mountain peak so high, so steep. But Love hath struggled o'er. Transcending all he cleaves the sky. And borne on amber-flaming wings He dares to live, and scorns to die." PART TWO PSYtCHE "Ourane ! Love ! With pasision bid me melt and tremble. Fire of suns, nor yet dissemble ! Prostrate to thee I am lying. For thy blessing ever sighing. For thy kisses living, dying. Come, O come! "With eyes uplifted I implore thee. Come from thy far starry portal. Come to me a sad Immortal, Open wide the jewelled door. Love me. Love, for evermore! Nor can I soaring rise to thee — O fly, and flying, fly to me! "Come with soul forever vernal, All thy power of love eternal. Heaving breast divinely young. Songs within thy heart unsung. To me, to me O come! 20 PSYCHE 21 "O cover me in matchless splendor With thy glances, fiery, tender, Warmer than her burning blushes When the smiling Eos flushes Rosy red with dawn ! "Intoxicate and softly woo me. Love, enamour and pursue me. Till my heart with thine is throbbing. Till my breast on thine is sobbing. Come, Ourane, come !" Then Psyche rose, and called aloud to Love: "O Love, dear Love ! I strained mine eyes To look beyond the stars. To search the heavens for thee; I lay upon the ground With face upturned. That I might see thee 'mid the clouds. If thou hadst cast thy shadow at my feet, I should have swooned with joy, O Love, dear Love! I strained mine eyes To view the mountain top. To pierce the misty deep. And then I scanned my very heart. My very heart. Where thee I foimd." 22 DREAMS OF HELLAS From bird and bower Strange voices came. From fountains and from singing brooks, From raindrops, pelting dripping leaves. From grasses breathing secret hopes. And all in concert sang: "Within thy soul behold him, Seest thou the rushing waves That run mad races on the shore. And never-dying blooms On patriots' graves? Seest thou the sea far down and deep. The caves of pearl where sirens sleep. The caverns haimted by strange shapes That slimy weed in beauty drapes. And faces sad and pale, with eyes Still watching for the tide to rise? Look deeper yet within thy soul, Around, and down the mystic whole; Behold volcanoes breathing fire And suns which scintillate desire; See stars reflected from above. And one, the brightest. Star of Love. "And wouldst thou know Love's voice? Hear, hear the whirring wings of birds That, cleaving the resistant air. Are scattering music everjrwhere. The warble of the nightingale PSYCHE 23 That sings unto a star And calls her mate from far. Or to the echo as it flies Back to its mother's breast and dies. Ahj listen! Over all thou hearest Catch thou the purest tone and dearest, Rising clear and sad and lone. 'Tis thine? Ah, yes. It is his own!" Psyche: "Whence comes this stillness Following softly in the wake of storms? With fury of the elements My heart in all its passion raged. But now like this soft eve It floats on seas of calm. Last night, when fiercest fought the clouds, A passing gust of hurrying wind Tossed me a message, fleeing as it spake: 'The poet Daphnis loveth thee.' Ah, yes, 'tis true, 'tis true. The poet Daphnis loveth me. The soul of music whom the Muses know. Clear merry streams laugh happily, Cool fountains sing with him. Sweet sea-nymphs, all enamoured, sport. While goddesses seductively implore. And Aphrodite — Ah me! — Aphrodite Smiles and coaxes more. To me he never yet hath spoken Yet silently I, too, adore. 24 DREAMS OF HELLAS "O Daphnis^ waves in tides do rise. And so my soul aspires to thee. Thou mortal, yet invincible. More lofty than the skies. Yet deeper than the deepest sea. Thou siagest and the birds are mute; Thou smUest, and the sim is dark. "I hear the dewdrop fall upon the grass, I see the life-sap Qcfw in quivering leaves, I feel the earth move when thou passest by. And pausing thou, my head is bowed. Laughter is silent, water falls in holy song. Yet still the weaving of the spider's web goes on. "Oft times at night the sun doth shine — A strange sun Whose blended light in violet glows — Alone am I in thought with thee; I cannot rise on pinions golden-tipped. So thou descendest unto me. "What matters it if ocean parts? Can distance sunder loving hearts? What matters it where he may be? In mind he ever dwells with me. Together we may never walk. Yet 'mid the blue we meet and talk. "I look into a star, my Love is there; In silvery lakes I gaze, he smiles at me. PSYCHE 25 He comes upon the breeze that softly steals O'er far enchanted mountains to my door; He sighs among the trees, I hear his voice In cadence tender where the shadows fall; His breath is on my cheek when lilies bloom. His face is cut in flame where embers die. Yet where, dear Love, In all this wide world, where, O where art thou?" The answer came like falling rain, Upon her heart it fell: — "Lo, everywhere!" So Psyche strolled among the sleepy shrubs, To talk to melancholy trees And waken dreaming birds. From plant to plant she strayed And learned a secret here, A love-tale there. Or comforted a drooping bud. And trained a wilful vine. At last her soul its love did teU In singing. Its music through the garden ringing On to the stars. "My heart wiU burst with ecstasy ! O Love forgive! Departed all expectancy, 'Now, now I live ! 26 DREAMS OF HELLAS "Waves of rapture rolling o'er me— Love, I am thine! Sweet Ourane, I implore thee. Be ever mine! "Ah the music! Ah the feeling! All, all my heart Is itself to thee revealing. Thou, thou a part. "Doubt has flown on sable pinions. Faith strong, divine. Bears me home to her dominions. Bliss, bliss is mine! "My heart wiU burst with ecstasy! O Love forgive! . Departed all expectancy. Now, now I live!" PART THREE ATHOS— OLYMPUS "O Zeus almigMy! Thou who canst entwine A chain of lightning round the form divine Of proud Olympus, Snatch young Athos to thy powerful arms. Protect him from a woman's charms ! Be still, thou Tempter! He who soars on reason's wings To vast unending space of mind Must rise alone. Untrammelled by seducing arms, Unfettered by the tangling charms Of woman's locks. Unloved by children, who but carry on The curse of woe." For Athos spake in plaintive tone Grim words which seemed to sigh and moan Along the quivering, shivering leaves That rustled 'mid the stately trees Across the valley and the lea Of classic Hellas to the sea. 27 28 DREAMS OF HELLAS "Beneath the brooding wings of love Hate lies concealed; Black shadow sharply cuts across The noonday sun; The ebb-tide follows close upon The leaping sea; From womb of Hope Despair is bom ; Indifference dances near Supreme desire; But pure tranquility is found On that lone height Where all of nature blends. "I seek the goal of mind Where love and hate. Indifference, passion's flame, and hope Are seen from far. And through the lucent air of soul Are merged within the One." He ceased, and sadly gazed around. Was it a voice or did he dream? Some siren from a distant wood, A Naiad from a whispering stream, A soft vibration in the air. Pathetic like a woman's prayer. Had startled him. "Adonis, loved of Aphrodite!" — Aye, 'twas such a cry As one would raise about to die. ATHOS-OLYMPUS 29 It flew along electric air in very frenzy of despair. Then prone he lay beneath the moon^ The pitiless^ white moon! Ah! he was young, if one can be, Who lives and lives eternally, And he was fair, if men are so. With eyes as bright As orbs of night. "Once more, fair Athens, then will I depart, I'll tear from my revolting breast, my heart!" He struggled to his feet and went Desirous, vacillating, spent. Amid the pile of Hellas' palaces. Helios arose and over Athens gleamed. Ah ! what cares he for wisdom's lore or maid's virginity ? Upon the evil and the good Impartially he sheds his beams. On palace roofs and rushing streams. Save where the wood conceals their purity. He listens not to human prayer. Nor loveth he the young and fair. But dandles with the locks of age voluptuously. On haunts of guilt he blandly smiles. And boldly he himself beguiles In dens of infamy. " so DREAMS OF HELLAS Beneath his glarings scorching rays. More searching than a woman's gaze. Walked Athos wearily, TiU, strolling near a palace door. He turned, as if to stay were sin. But halted once again, ah more ! He went within. O passion — man! Immortal, but his soul, alas ! Is bound by chains of sense. Desire intoxicates his blood And leaps along his nerves To rule his yielding heart. And strike his reason blind. In vain does his aspiring mind Attempt, as would a captured bird. To rise to those supernal heights Where dwell the conquering gods. Again, again he dreams of love. Of music and sweet summer nights. Of Aphrodite and her doves. But as cold breezes from the North Bring doom to tender flowers. So down from ice-peaks of his mind The frost of logic fell. And quenched the fire of his desire. He broke the honeyed, subtle film ATHOS-OLYMPUS 31 That held him like a vicious snare, And spake aloud harsh virile words That sprang from soul itself. "To scale the heights of mind From passion must I flee. To stand upon the dizzy crest Mine eyes must upward gaze. Truth shivers on the mountain peak, She is my hope, 'tis she I seek." Adonis, shivering, bowed his golden head; Fair Aphrodite with her doves had fled; The tearful clouds all rushed in quick alarm To wrap the sky which lay within the arm Of willing earth. The sun retired to depths of dark, Nor upward soared the rapturous lark; In discord music moaned and sighed. While fascination drooped and died. The night was dark; The moon in fright had hid herself. And startled stars had fled. Black clouds, in sullen groups. Had crowded in the gloom. Until their sap of life, the oozing rain. Fell spattering to the ground. The winds in mad battalions shrieked. And giant oaks fought grimly with the blast. Fantastic music, struck from Orphic lyre. Rang past the quivering pines 32 DREAMS OF HELLAS Which swayed in pantomimic dance To Delphic rhapsody. Now fiercer raged the battle 'mid the clouds That shocked the earth with thunderbolts And hurled hot balls of fire. While cutting with sharp knives of sleet The vanquished and the dead. Great Athos sat apart; His flashing eyes gleamed like the double stars. And when the thunder ceased Its tragic moan, he spake: "Ah, how my youth has flown ! Now Truth and I are here alone. Nay, wait! Yet much I have not found; So vast is she that when I touch the hem Of her white robe, her face is lost above. And when I fly on wings of thought To spaces 'twixt the stars, And gaze into her eyes. Her form hath vanished from my view. "Shall I go back to earth and worms," he said, "Give up my quest and dally with the dead, Dig up a grave, embrace an old desire. Play with decay and bum with evil fire? No, no, forever no ! Though heaven's bolts were hurled at me, Though lightnings blinded me. Though gods should weep Apd demons curse! ATHOS-OLYMPUS 33 Put me upon the rack And twist my tortured limbs. Pile faggots high And scorch me in their flames, Hang me upon a cross And jeer and spit at me ! No, no, forever no ! "I stand on that lone height Where silent stars and I Hold converse sad. The clouds are far beneath. Like breath of mist. No friend have I save the white moon; Love could not climb so far; He shivered and turned back Unto the plains below. Hate comes not here. Nor proud Ambition; There are none. For star-eyed Hope, And cold Despair have flown. No bird of song E'er soars to realms which I have won. In spaces silent, desolate, I dwell and brood alone. "I slew Earth's joy as up I came. Fair children's eyes Grew dim beneath my glance. Sweet flowers were crushed. 34 DREAMS OF HELLAS And beauty fled dismayed. Now bleeding, torn. With thorn-pierced hands. Indifferent eyes. Upon this crag where love comes not. Erect and poised, I stand alone." WINTER OLYMPUS How the dark clouds glower and threaten, Climbiog up and gliding down the mountain peaks! The tyrant Death, in heartless glee. Holds festivals in palaces of ice on winter nights. And ghosts of maids, whose roses He has blasted with a kiss. Strong youth, stabbed ruthlessly in jealous rage. Sweet children stolen with the flowers, AH gather there. When 'twirt the somber curtains hung aloft The moon peeps out and shivers with the cold, Aeolus plays upon a harp of many strings. And one loud discord rolls through depths of space In waves of misery. Ice ! Ice ! Sharp, cutting swords of ice! Long, jagged knives of ice! That cleave straight to the marrow-bone Like ground and burnished steel. Or tear and hack like metal red with rust. ATHOS-OLYMPUS 35 Ice needles, fine and sharp And stinging like an insect's barb. Stilettos, piercing tender veins For drops of scarlet blood, Cold forms of women, men and children, Stiff and stark, all, all of ice. And the snow, an endless main of snow! A sea of pallid faces staring up with glazed eyes Into the sky. Great, shivering oaks that strive ia vain to die. Young plants enwrapped in shrouds. And weary mountains Crouching 'neath a weight of woe. And the winds 'Mid snapping branches wrestling. Moaning 'mong the skeletons of trees As if Love's heart were breaking. Near to the mountain top There stands a pine That sways and sings To wail of winter storms. Though buffeted by savage blasts. And bent to earth with weight of snow. Defiant and alone It flings at Death A challenge with its long, green arms. And firmly holds its place Upon Olympus' noble crest. Thou Mountain deified, Olympus, battle-scarred! 36 DREAMS OF HELLAS Through fire thy head Was reared above the clouds. Into dim blue thou loomest, And mdsty, distant, lone. Thy brow is lost above! And Athos, thou Upon the icy heights of mind To Reason wed, think on. While down in- dim and verdant vales The song of earth is sung. PHRYNE 'Tis terrible to live; 'Tis passion, power, to feel ajid quiver Till the moon grows warm From glances of one's eyes; To wrestle with the shade of thought Till sunlight turns to glare of ice; To love and hate, to know and understand. Alas, and I have lived ! Here cold and haggard on the verge of death. All charm departed, a wingless bird, I still remember mine own beauty. As though in ivory cut. Beauty! 'Twas mirrored and flashed back at me From passion's glittering eyes. Each day I saw myself in wells of light More lovely, fairer. Flushing full-blooded to the heart of him Who worshipped most. Yet kissing right and left ambitious lips; For I was vain. Oft have I wound my red-gold hair About the form of one Who strove, alas ! to chisel me in stone. 37 38 DREAMS OF HELLAS Ha! ha! Can marble quiver with the wild heart's beat, Or cheat the world to dreams of life? Praxiteles ! — I laugh — Ambitious, yet defied, A^id by a woman's breasts. To capture Love is but to soil the hands With dust of butterflies. To imprison beauty is to strike her blind. The statue has but sightless eyes. Yet those were golden days. And Athens flamed with light. My hair tossed back the beams Whence they had come. So beautiful was I That blushes found no spot Whereon to paint me. Like Eros I was flushed with dawn. And rosy with the lust of life. Nor virgin shy, yet modesty looked on Forgetful of her name. Ah me! Nor shame nor modesty Did taunt me then. How pink the gleaming of my skin. How fair on that enchanted day. When naked, save my hair, — A mantle that did here and there Divide about my arms and panting breast. Half hiding, half revealing faultless limbs — A shimmering veil about my face. PHRYNE 39 Through which mine eyes flashed deadly sweet. On that charmed day Before the gaze of Athens And ApelleSj the beloved, I walked into the amorous sea As passionate as she Who rose upon the melting foam — And shall I breathe it? — As unearthly fair. The Sim's enraptured stare Unveiled the ultimate. And there of beauty was no more Than it revealed in me. Phryne ! and thou sittest here Dabbling thy withered limbs In icy stream of death, To prate of beauty While thy straggling locks Lie scant about thy neck, Phryne! Ah, that day When man elected thee as queen. That golden day! Who forced the cup of life upon my lips, A chalice sparkling o'er with rosy blood, Till drugged with drippings From Love's bursting veins I caught the taint of death? Who forced the cup of life upon my lips? Ye gods, O pity me! 40 DREAMS OF HELLAS 'Tis sin to grow so cold. To shrivel like the moon and freeze; 'Tis sin to pant no more with love. Hesperides! I shrank When last I yielded to thy mad embrace. My flesh aglow. Myself a clod. My love-lit eyes Seductive lies. My smile a hint Of frozen lips. Alas, the shock! I see thee yet! Forgive, For sake of me — forget. The fire but smouldered. And I read my doom. Loved Attica! O where Have vanished smnmer suns? Who stole mine eyes' hot glances My lips a wine cup. Who did dare To drink the dregs? My arms, my white arms ! Where, O Phryne, fairest Once among the fair. Has Eros fled? Life sleeps with pillowed head On sterile breast. PHRYNE 41 While crawls the sluggish snake In August sun. Sluggish? Aye, I thrill no more. Hark to the faint beat of my heart ! Across my knee there lies a wrinkled babe, Lank-haired and fanged; His very locks among themselves can move; A leer is on his lips. His wicked eyes are old. When passion's fire burned low The embers desperately I stirred And found incarnate evil there. Once, Phryne, once Thy blood was warm with solar heat, The sun once whitened thee like snow And fondled thy long hair With fiery finger-tips. With kisses once He rouged thy willing cheek. While twining amorous arms About thy breasts; Now rotten, wretched, cursed and old. His cruel rays Like vultures pick The carrion from thy bones. A frozen monster thou, and cold in heaven's heat. Debauched, condemned, afraid. Alone. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS THE HEART OF MY SOING O Muse! Raia nmsic in sounds That falling rebound whence they flew. O Muse! Send words from above. The magic-fire language of love. Catch, catch the Ideal and make it the real! Lost in the web of spider-Kke words That entangle and hold, AUure and enfold The heart of my song! O Muse! Send words from above. The magic-fire language of love. PASSION Passion that tears the stars from the heaven. That brings up the pearls from the sea. Fire that burns the dross from the leaven And thrills with the love of the free! The bard who yields to flesh his emotion, Ejiows naught of the frenzy divine. The dreamer who ladles the drops from the ocean Is scorned by the gods and the Nine. 42 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 43 "QUEEN OF THE BROIDERED THRONE" Winged bird of flame, cleaving the ether, Up, up, where the doves of Love flutter For me bear a message, even to Eros Tenderly utter the passionate plaint of my soul. Tell him the heart of me breaks with its sighing; In music — O sing it — flying, aye flying High to the throne of the Queen. Gaze in her eyes. Close, close to her lean. Dove of the ethers, dove of the skies ! A mortal — I love like a God; My King lieth down on the sod. And hugs the black breast of the earth. Queen of mid-sky! Thrill him through; thrill him through With passion of you — That he hear me, adore me, — or die. MAGIC Alas! Alas! Red rapture dies; The glow on noon's hot breast must fade. Sad evening with regretful eyes Must sit and ponder in the shade. 'Twill vanish soon, my song, my love, As passes Aphrodite's dove. 44 DEEAMS OF HELLAS Where goes this happiness of mine? I'd know the deeps of this delight; This ecstasy that rivals wine I'd drink and drink, all day, all night. Where steals this subtle, unsolved bliss. This joy, this curse, this frown, this kiss? If dregs of rapture I might madly quaff. The bitterness, the grief of bliss. At death thereafter would I mock and laugh. If once, once only I might taste of this. ADONIS I love thee, Phaon ! How I love thee The ocean tells the moon. White the cliffs of Leucas, Deep the sea! I'd perish in thy beauty, But death is shy of me. The laurel thou didst give me. For love hath taught me song. And still it sweeps the lyre's strings along Through my soft fingers. Ah, I love thee! AH my singing I do sing for thee. Naught for the ages care, MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 45 Alone for thine eyes' glances. Thy sun-fingered hair. Naught for the Nine or Lesbos, Only for thee. White the clifEs of Leucas, Deep the sea. THE GARDENS OF THE HESPERIDES Oft I dream of vales supernal. Nectar glistening on the vine. Shadowy home of Love eternal. Serpent-guarded, dim, divine. Oft I sense Elysian roses, Moon-kissed phantom lilies see. Ah, the couch where Love reposes — Love whose glance has flashed on me ! Love, Hesperides, and rapture! Love, the singer. Love, the song; Love with eyes that subtly capture. The beautiful, the strong. Peril? Aye, for bliss means danger! Kiss Hesperides and die. Or to joy remain a stranger — Golden apples glisten high! 46 DREAMS OF HELLAS O, to feel Elysian breezes ! One more draught of nectar, one ! Lest my soul to rapture freezes, Lest a raven hide the sun. Die ? Ah, yes — ^to rise in beauty ! Die? To wake by Eden's stream! Where, forgetting heartless duty, I may live for Love's sweet dream. Westwind! o'er the Gardens blowing. Thrilled with fair Hesperides, Come, O come, my cheeks are glowing! Westwind! float across the seas. Waft a flower to me, a stranger. One rare leaf or petal bring; What care I for death or danger? Waft a rose, for I would sing! O MUSIC, LOVE AND LIGHT! O music, love and light! If I should ever Enjoy their awful charm complete. If from me they need vanish never, I then might rest at Beauty's feet. But ah! The real is only known through sorrow. The day from darkness leaps alive at dawn; The yearning of my struggling soul to-morrow Must sing itself into the fire of morn. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 47 The grip of pain will sometime cease and rapture Will hurl despair to dimgeon depths afar; Through cloud and mist I yet shall fly and capture The lovelight of the Morning Star. O THIINK OF ME! In lone, high places, think of me. Where pines grow rank and earth is fair. When you on mountain crest are free, Lo, I am there! Beside the ever-plaintive sea, Half buried in the shifting sand, When weary of the world you flee From sight of land. Eemember one whose eyes with thine Have gazed far off across the blue. To life's divine horizon line I've looked with you. The heights and depths are ours forever, All else may force us far apart. But naught these vast extremes can sever. Nor heart from heart. 48 DREAMS OF HELLAS THE BIRD OF PARADISE Once, aye once, I tasted rapture. Haunting still in dreams to-day, O to know again, to capture Bliss, the bird that flew away! Come, descend, descend unto me ! Bird of Paradise, be mine. For 'twas thou didst once renew me, I was thine. Oh I was thine! On some sunny stream of splendor, Come thou Soul of trembling rays! Come through azure depths and tender. As before in happy days. Flash thy rainbow-tinted singing 'Cross my sense, entrance, entrance! To mine ears thy music bringing. To mine eyes, thy glance, thy glance. Once, aye once, I tasted rapture. Haunting still in dream to-day, O to know again, to capture Bliss, the bird that flew away ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 4,9 YOUR EYES— PASSION Your eyes! An instant! Ah, the spell! Hereafter they are heaven or hell To me — your eyes! Blue, profoimd and infinite. Aglow with wild desire. Azure dark with mystery. Passionate with fire. Your eyes, alas ! have won me. Nor can I turn and flee, Nor find on earth some lonely spot Where your blue, desperate eyes are not. HYACINTHUS Apollo sees thy charm, loved boy, And fascinated, beams; While dwelling on some vanished joy The muses, startled from their dreams. Walk restless by their native streams. Fair Lesbos, fair, where once long past. The Tenth Muse struck the quivering lyre. And all the Nine stood hushed, aghast. At Sappho's song, that ever higher Hath upward flown on wings of fire. so DREAMS OF HELLAS / ■ Here, Hyacinthine Boy, ablaze! Thou then didst bind Apollo's hands. And still mid flowery, perfumed maze. In Hellas he enraptured stands Enamoured of these favored lands. A FRAGMENT My tears are for myself alone, My smiles for those I love ; His plumage o'er his wound he spreads. When pants the injured dove. RHYTHM To-night your promise you ignore, and I, Intense with listening for your wayward feet. Grow angry, grieved, and stare along the street. Alive with hope and fear as minutes fly. Condemning you and loving, too. I see To-morrow your life's tide will turn, and then You'll madly long to view my face again. But O, lost love, you'll look in vain for me ! You came not here; you went your wanton way. Believing me forgiving and most kind. That my rapt passion must your faults condone. Ah, Rhythm! The ebb of love is hate; some day You'll long and search for her you cannot find, And on life's lonesome trail will walk alone. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 51 WHO ARE THE MEN THAT DO THINGS? The men of brawn or the men of wings — Who are the men that do great things? Who make our vivid dreams come true? To whom say we, "It's up to you"? Who dares the confines called ideal? Who seizes plans and makes them real? Who tears the shaft from fertile brain, To raise in marble high again? Who fashions, fuses, welds and rears; Who digs and cleanses, forms and clears? Who naked, sweats in ditch and well; Who mines for gold, who laughs at hell? Does wizardry in reason lie? Does genius dare and do and die? Or is it brawn, the lump of clay. That makes the fight and wins the day ? An Edison were less a god Were he not brother to the sod. Yet men of brawn are but a herd. Till haughty genius speaks the word. And urges strength to bring to light The wonder that is out of sight. Who are the men that do things? O rank and file, that sweat and swear ! 52 DEEAMS OF HELLAS O winged minds that cleave the air! Strike hands and imderstand^ and then Combine and build the world again. The ideal yielding like a wife. To physical demand and life. Comes down to matter, sinew, bone. On earth at last to claim its own. A COYOTE PEOWLED A coyote came one night to the sea. And howled at the waves and howled at me. And the white-maned monster roared and mumbled At the dog that prowled and starved and grmnbled. Thin and lank and rufiCied and grey. He stalked and stalked in search of prey. And snarled and snapped and wailed at fate That dealt him dust and the dregs of hate. I gave him a bone and words and sighs. And he showed me his teeth and he showed me his eyes ; And his teeth were clean and strong and white. And his eyes were fine as a frosty night. EVEN THE EOCK The barren rock, 'tis said — ah, no! Upon its bosom lichens grow; And lichens nourished by the dew. May strengthen me and succor you. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 53 CONSTANT? O Moon! As constant as art thou am I, A strange one-sided thief of light like thee. I give my heart, the fickle soul of me. And then from all I fain would love, I fly. Ah, thou returnest, stealing softly nigh O'er those adored to subtly brood and smile. Unstinting, lavish, full of transient guile, A mocking splendor forced to poise on high. We wax and wane together, come and go Anon a phantom's shifting glimpse of fire. Like mask of hallowe'en, or sickle's show. To thrill with doubtful rapture and desire. And promise give of glamour's brighter glow. Ere we to longing, distant loves aspire. SMILING They tell us to smile all the while, "Keep on smiling, the world beguiling. Smile, smile, lie and smile." But who are they, these imps of wile That caution us to smile, smile, smile? I cannot tell a lie. For smiling when I ought to cry My conscience I defy; And yet they say, lie. 54 DREAMS OF HELLAS I ■wonder if grim fiends they are Who laugh by proxy. And spend their time Suggesting orthodoxy. An unctuous hierarchy Nudging us from astral spsices. Urging us to court the graces. If I were Mona Lisa, I'd comply. But being just a human I'd rather cry Than smUe and lie. LAUGHING With the Immortals laughing at us And the grim world all awry, I try to pierce the arch above And gaze into the sky. I can hear their sharp staccatoes, For angels laugh aloud. But they hide behind a rampart Of grey and sullen cloud. We play our little game for them. Old earth is but a stage. We fume and fret and curse and sweat. We storm and dance and rage. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 55 We £ght and challenge, blind and kill, And live by rule and text. And down they gaze on us and thrill. And breathless wait the next. And then they laugh, O how they laugh ! Their very souls ashape With fun of living while they watch Our game of give and take. We slay or torture, pray or preach. And grovel on the clod; We smirk and sputter, scold and teach. And implicate our God. THE WEST Wings that are glancing, wings of my soul, That speeding like arrows fly to their goal ; Wings that have cut the keen ethers above, O carry me on to the West of my love ! The West it is magic, perspective and fire. Its peaks are like daggers thrust up by desire; It is Tyre, it is Sidon and Ophir in one. This land by the waters, this land of the sun. 56 DREAMS OF HELLAS O LET ME SING! Just one night let me sing to you; The years are many and long! One night remembered forever Through my heavenly gift of song. I would pour out my soul in music^ With tones that should carry far. Like the longing bird in the zenith. Who covets the distant star. O just one night I would stand, Love, Beneath your easement alone. And strike the gamut of living In rhythm for you, my own! For the years stretch on into nowhere. The bird and the star must part; But for one rare night — O yield. Love, To the mad, wild song of my heart ! O BEAUTIFUL BOY! There is often in my dreaming, Though the vision is but seeming, A fair Levantine country where the stately stone-pine grew. In the spell of dear romancing, Is Ariadne dancing Where the restless sea remembers its springtime love of you. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 57 The ghost of Ischia lying On the waters that are sighing. Where Crete is floating dimly on a mystic haze of blue; And Corfu's swooning splendor, Makes a rhapsody so tender That my heart and soul are weeping with tragic thoughts of you. Only in a dream I find you. With the garlands that must bind you To the happy realm of laughter, the magic Southern seas. Lost in some fair land of singing Where the wind-blown bells are ringing. And the lyre is struck divinely by fingers of the breeze. All of spring was woven round you WTiere Eros searching found you. And Diomede was fruitful in its flowery beds of love; But Apollo spied you playing By Eurotas, nor delaying Struck with deadly aim and malice from his fiery realm above. Yet the hyacinth is growing Where your sacred blood was flowing. For the bloom is self-revealing, its petals stamped with woe. And I forlorn am grieving. No joy today relieving The pain of your departing in the ages long ago. 58 DREAMS OF HELLAS Ah! The stone-pine tells the story. And the grapes of Hellas glory In libations poured so freely for Beauty, Spring and Love; And the wind bells whisper faintly. Of the Boy so young and saintly. His virtues purple-tinted like the ringed and tragic dove. A BROKEN WING A bird flew heavenward, soaring high. To poise in blue, blue air and sing ; An archer saw it upward fly. And broke its glorious, fluttering wing. A Poet rose to spaces lone, i To pour his music from the skies; Hate aimed and struck where he had flown. The singer fell no more to rise. Alas, frail bird with broken wing! The Poet's hope like thine is dead; No more does genius rise to sing. The Muse in- agony has fled. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 59 O SING AND SING MORE O sing and sing more, Sweet lark in high spaces. To Venus or Mars Your melody pour. Along the waste places Far out to the stars! Sing beauty and love. Send harmonies swelling, To verge of the sky Around and above. That music impelling May fall from on high. THE ROSES Pluck not the rose but kiss it Full, full upon the mouth; 'Tis quivering with the rapture And the glamour of the South. Bruise not sweet Love with frenzy. But breathe its perfumed breath; In tenderness is paradise. In mad desire is death. 60 DREAMS OF HELLAS O, music turned to witchery- Warm blushes on the flower, When west winds fan the roses In Love's entangled bower! O, wine and fair Adonis ! Aroma on the breeze That steals from fragrant gardens Of far Hesperides! O MEMORY! Dear Heart! I loved you once long since; Remember, can you not? That kiss, that rapture quivering joy We've lost, but ne'er forgot. Though you are you, and I am I, We two were one that day. But ah! the kiss on gauzy wings Has softly flown away. A sweetheart once, a stranger now; In memory still my lover. The real is fair, but O the dream Where fluttering kisses hover! The dream! The dream! Once bliss new-bom Gleamed lambent from your eyes. While I, disdaining desert earth. Was lost in paradise. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 6l Yes, I am I, and you are you — AlaSj that other day! Eros has flown; but memory, love. Can never pass away. THE SCARAB Old, a gem before the Parthenon Rose like a dream in snow On rock-ribbed, famed Acropolis; Or doomed and sad Jerusalem Re-echoed with a Master's voice. Old as the pillared halls of Thebes, And shrivelled, mummied king of Khem, This scarab, cut, mysterious, clean. Fresh from antiquity's shrunk hand. The subtle spell has brought along Of ancient time and silent land. THE LOTUS— FANCY Ah! love before had ne'er been spoken. Nor lover's tragic heart been broken, Till these soft, azure, lotus eyes Looked upward to the vaulting skies. 61 DREAMS OF HELLAS And I, in shimmering, golden fancies, Have revelled in phantasmal dances With moonbeams, trembling, timid, fair. That stole along the silent air To kiss the lotus o'er and o'er. And thrill my soul forevermore. O Fancy ! lock the door of day. Lest love ecstatic pass away. "WHAT IS A FRIEND?" Near to the brink of some high peak I go. And watching the dim, fading vale below, I dumbly wonder: is this then the end? O speak, my Soul! What is a friend? Far out at sea the billows melt like dreams. The ocean gulfs its transient, golden gleams. As once I lost in dread embrace of night, A love whose eyes were wells of liquid light. Is aught secure? On what may I depend? speak, my Soul! What is a friend? Through crowded city streets I stray, And seek the Lost both night and day. 1 search the faces that I pass. And searching breathe, alas! alas! What is a friend? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 63 YOUR FRIENDS Your friends^ with eyes like sunsets, That lean on shadows grey, And smiles as vague as Buddha's When Dawn kneels down to Day, Hang on your dim remembrance. With pleasure and with gloom. For lives are bound to lives and lives. By womb of Earth — ^the tomb. TONES CELESTIAL (March 10, 1915, on hearing the compositions of Count Axel Raoul Wachtmeister.) I have loved pure tones terrestrial. Earthly music, virile, strong, All the gamut of grim matter, From bass to lyric song. I have loved the growl of thunder. The boom of mighty seas, The rattle of the shingle, The whimper of the breeze. I have loved the blare of trumpets. The tom-tom, drum and flute. Barbaric, pagan rhapsodies On zither, harp or lute. 64 DREAMS OF HELLAS Ah ! my soul is tuned to frenzy. Like pipes of magic Pan, Ah ! my heart leaps wild to singing Of primal earth and man. But now I hear in depths of azure. Falling sheer as from on high. Downward, downward, nearer, nearer, A rain of music from the sky. Grand contraltos, pure sopranos. Weird fantasias hurrying fast, Mighty fugues of earth translated. Witching melodies recast. Hark ! 'Tis magic of great spaces ! Echoes roam and shiver there, Madly seeking natal places. In rapture or despair. Hymns of ghostly Goths and Vandals, Trained to sing with morning stars. Love notes of the Saxon Siren Calling from the river bars. Faint stornello flying softly. Like Aphrodite's dove. Tonal tints of Southern oceans. The fluttering wings of Love. A wizard waves his wand, and lo! Harmonics from on high, Are caught by flute and harp and lyre. And flung back to the sky. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 65 FRAGMEiNT Thou towerest silent, lone, O Rock! Eternal Truth! The fiercest onslaughts of our narrow creeds Are but the touch of vultures' wings Upon thy crags. FOREVER (To Champa) Once in Greece the gods were busy. Forming friendships hard and fast; Then Athena called Artemis: "Make one friendship that will last; "One to stand the test of ages. Distance, helplessness, despair; One defying rules of sages. One that's constant everywhere. "Whether felt at Himalaya, Persia, Khem, eternal Rome, Ancient Troas, grim Parnassus, High Olympus, here at home. "Make this friendship in the furnace Of experience fierce with fire, Throw in love, aye, adoration. Tears and laughter, pain, desire. 66 DREAMS OF HELLAS "Drive these twin-locked souls asunder, Oceans, aeons, put between. Yet perchance they'll meet to wonder. And live again the old-time dream. "In some tender soft-eyed glory. Of virgin land or fairy fen. An ancient, half- forgotten story Will break love's rusty chains again. "Eyes will flash at eyes and kindle. Embers smouldering into flame; Hands will clasp with hands in rapture, Memory calls the ancient name. "All the mornings, all the evenings, Hopes and longings centering then. On this recurring magic union, When friend with friend shall meet f^ain.' Artemis glanced along her quiver. Strung taut her fatal bow and strong, This huntress of the mount and river. This virgin of the land of Song. Athene in upper air was waiting. The aegis round her, stormy, drear. Her spear the lightning; truth impatient. Wrung with rapture, stung with fear. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 67 And yet and yet Artemis pondered, Her splendid being sifting light As gleams the haunting moon o'er Hellas^ On stream and mountain pass at night. At last she raised her eyes to heaven. And caught Athene's commanding glance. She saw the shadow on her aegis, The keen-edged glitter of her lance. "This miracle, this ring-like wonder, Is forged already, I declare ! Nor flash of yours nor threatening thunder. Can make eternity more fair. "True friendship is of past and future, The life behind, the life ahead; 'Tis never born, begun, created, 'Tis never lost; 'tis never dead. "Beyond the Gods is the Eternal. Athene begone! Mad boars are free. Rise, rise to regions more supernal. And spare the hunter's moon to me." A FAIR CALIFORNIA DAY Like a dream of a dream were the mountains. Like the mist of a dream was the sea, And paradise captured the valley. The vista, the woodland and me. 68 DREAMS OF HELLAS i A day when the earth and the heavens. The sun, and the glamour-screened moon. The oak-shadowed etchings, the roses. The Madre Sierra at noon Wove a spell that wiU rival fair Egypt, The swan-called Damascus, the glow Of the Alps, or the veiling Of Chamouni's peaks in the snow. Sunbeams vying with poppies. Perspectives of infinite line, A mezzo-tint stolen from Hellas, Hauntings of temple and shrine. I love them forever and ever. Fair epic and lyric in one. This land of the mountain and ocean. This dream of the shadow and sun. PEACE Peace conceived mid scenes of plunder. Caught in mesh from lightning wove. When the sky to crash of thunder Flashed the blood-red bolts of Jove ; Fathered by the demon Chaos, Mothered by insane desire. Kin to passion, blood and frenzy, Quickened by eternal fire; MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 69 Peace that sucked the cloud's red nipple. Tragedy its grim behest. Swathed in smoke from field of carnage. Soothed upon barbaric breast; Tell me, perfect Peace, O tell me! Mate art thou some time of one That clangs the bell of destiny. And shrouds the living sim? Then the voice of Peace rang clarion : "Cruel war and I are wed; We kiss on field of battle And marry mid the dead." THE WIRELESS Young Genius gazes rapt on his ideal. And worships its evasive, subtle charm. While doubt vmveils before his eyes the real. And strives his muse to humble and alarm. But he, enamoured of transcendent strings. That quiver 'cross the singing harps on high. Defiant to the winds his message flings. And waits the answer from the pregnant sky. What need has he for gross material wire. When vibrant azures to his touch resound.'' Fulfilled at last is his sublime desire; The secret of ethereal air is found. And some day I may calmly send afar, A wireless message to my lucky star. 70 DREAMS OF HELLAS A RHAPSODY Immeasurable blue, far-reaching space ! Where in the ether, where, in what place. Tired with my seeking, tired with my flight. Shall I rest me this night? Sirius, color and fire, star of desire. To music aeonic I've come from afar. To wander and wander around you, my star ! And yet have I flown from the Earth — little Earth, Where life without hope is despair. The place of my birth is a clod Which rushes through space with a sun for its god. Whose passionate face Is darkness to you, darkness to you. With wings of the soul have I come And followed a dove, the ghost of a dove. In search of my love. Speak, speak, is she where the splendor, the glare Are lost in the azures of space? A dove! cease your race with a star And tell me how far must I fly Ere paradise lie on the breast of the sky? No note, nor an echo, but silence so sad That sobbing of grief would make the heart glad; Deeps ever more deep, height piled upon height. Day dead at its birth, night buried by night. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 71 Alas in rapture's madness, There sleeps the germ of sadness; In womb of ecstasy Is infant misery. Old Earth has drawn me back, aye back. Though I fled from her arms On the track of a sun, And followed a dove. The ghost of a dove. In search of my love. How the wind doth tease the leaves ! How maliciously it grieves The cracking branches. Shaking with its blows and breaking the great trees ! How the sea melts into foam. As if to woo the land and roam On islands' rounded breast were bliss. And love and life ebbed in a kiss; And kissing, how it steals Some treasure from the fields Of shining sands! Soul of the winds ! Grim spirit of the sea ! Twin brothers, speak to me! Tell me wherefore is your madness. Your misery and your gladness? 72 DREAMS OF HELLAS Have you lost her ; have you found her ; Is endless blue of space around her; Or has she subtly vanished, By heaven's fiat banished Evermore ? The night broods o'er the deep. And grief and I with hands together Upon the strand may walk and weep, 'Mid wintry winds and chilling weather. While shrouds of deathless beings glisten. Who float upon the waves and listen With dull eyes staring at the sky So vacant, pitiless and high, A heaven with stars and moon departed. And rayless to the broken hearted. * * * I dreamed — 'twas when the crescent lingered on the blue — I dreamed, O Love, I dreamed of you! Your eyes glanced backward as you passed, 'Twas passion's look, ah me ! the last. Eternity is long again. But where, O where, mine own, and when, On what cool, far-off silvery strand. What tropic, green, enchanted land. What island, or what emerald sea. Will you bring rapture unto me? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 73 Black clouds, put out the star Which glares on me from far; I would be bridegroom of the moon And bask in borrowed light. I hate the lustre of the noon, I love the shades of night. Passion burning me like fire. Freeing from my heart desire Which leaps to heaven and drinks The wine of stars, or d^-'vnward sinks, And revels there. With vicious phantoms ' despair. At what eternal, ghastly- cost Am I myself disgraced and lost.'' 'Twas once I lay beside a placid brook. Where lilies vain with beauty look. And watching their reflections gleam, I lost myself within a dream. I heard the bended grass that grieves. Tell plaintive secrets to the leaves; I saw the field of grain afire With captured sunbeams, and yet higher On distant mountain's gleaming crest. Beheld a black-winged bird at rest. Would she descend or upward go.'' I waited. From the mountain, lo, she soared; Then noiseless sank and poised Beside the placid river bank; 74 DREAMS OF HELLAS Unerring, quickly there she found The ghastly dead upon the ground; With carrion gorged, she strove to rise Endowed with wings, and yet the skies Were vague, impossible and high. For fool of lust she could not fly. I wake and wrench the chains that bind me. For wanton passion has confined me. I tear and wrestle with the gyves That hold me to a thousand lives. I wring my clenched hands in prayer To one who dwelleth everywhere ; And like a mist upon the sea. Comes brooding peace and shelters me. Melody faint as the sound of the dew That falls on the roses; Music that fluttered and flew With the bird on the wing; Songs that come sighing over the waste Where echoes are dying; Melody, show me your beauty, your color, your form ! Conquer the rage, the passion, the storm Of my heart! Siren of magic, fidl-throated lark. Pour out your music, sing to the dark, Sing unto death! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 75 Nightingale, torture my ears with delight, Warble to women all the long night! Passionate dove, rain notes from above Though Venus should suffer with love ! Even in chaos harmonies tremble; In storm and disaster, sweet notes assemble. In agony's shriek love's laughter is glad. Death marshals a chorus; the harps of the sky. Strung true to the pitch of the stars as they fly. Are melody mad. The ghost of the dove will woo me along. And I 'mid the clouds am thrilling with song. O LET ME DREAM MY DREAM! O let me dream my dream ! Why crudely break the sun-lit spell And drag me down from my blue sky. To your cold scientific hell Where visions fade and poets die? O let me dream my dream! I've had no joys like yours of yore. Nor gems wore I, nor cloth of gold. Nor fair, far lands have wandered o'er; I'm young, I'm young, and you are old. 76 DREAMS OF HELLAS O let me dream my dream! My mystic world alone have I, Your cruel facts are my despair; 'Twere better that I droop and die Than that my hopes lie shattered there. O let me dream my dream! BUT ALAS! Once into my soul Came the peacock shimmer of wings. That subtle, that flagrant delight That flames but to pale in the night. And dims but to glimmer in flight. And drunk with the wine of my madness I prayed the Eternal to pause And time to revel in gladness. That all my soul's rapture Might crystallize then to a gem. But alas ! A CHEAT The sea with fingers white and thin. Takes living jewels from the sand; With hiss and roar he rakes them in. And pays in weeds the beggared land. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 77 FOAM The rock with silent taunt and sneer. Stares scornfully across the brine In strength content; and yet the sea With foam and sputter whispers, "Mine." ISOLATE One lonesome ship upon the sea. One camel on the scorching plain. One bird in heaven, and I — and I Am with myself again. EFFICIENT, PEIMITIVE AND MORE Efficient, primitive and more — My hating soul will gangrene, die. Revolt I must, my heart is sore. From these most sickening terms I fly. Tautology is naught indeed To "cave man," "mate" and "primal need" ; And repetition stands abashed At tougae-end phrases, glib, rehashed. 78 DREAMS OF HELLAS Why get we back to herd with brutes. Unshackle instincts held in leash. Or prate initial useless strength To scale the sky and stick and line To gauge its azure length? We boast of our eflSciency In one long bluffing breath. And next of our primeval gifts Of sex and blood and death. And when crude man calls loud his mate. As roars the lion 'cross the sands. We plug our ears and calmly wait In guru-pose, with meek limp hands; For pass, it will, this fakir's God That kills the Modern with its fist, Dissolves veneer, displays the raw, And scrapes and scrubs until the gist Of life, the bare initiative wrist. Is pulsing with efficiency. And cramps and brutal twist Of idiocy. * * * Come back. Illusion ! Beauty, come ! Wear all your clothes and frills and lace, Paint out your scars, evolve and grow, O come with smiling old time grace! Come, hypnotize and wield your spell, Till dreams shall once again be true. Wave but your hand, and all the world Will kneel again to love and you. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 79 MISERY Come to my arms, O Misery ! My heart is sick with sighs. Great angel o'er me brooding, come! Fold round me your black wings. Gaze in my mournful eyes, O Misery, Misery, come! To see you fluttering there Drear, drear, beyond compare. Is more than I can bear. There's light of fire in hell; Break now this awful spell. Come Misery, Misery, come ! A pearl hast thou concealed 5 — 'Tis mine, black Misery, mine! 'Twas tinted by the wine From my impassioned veins. Give me the gem, the glory Of our dark, tragic story. Misery, Misery, come! FORGETTING Long, coiling, fog-swept Lethe, Silent, slumbering, free, I'd drink of thy still waters. And lose myself in thee ! 80 DEEAMS OF HELLAS I'd yield as lyric music Yields to the sway of rhyme. And blend as fading distance Forever blends with time. Forgetting joy and sorrow. Sweet Lethe, still and grey, I'll drink of thee; to-morrow Shall banish yesterday. THE FIRST AND LAST I kissed you! 'Twas the first one. I never shall forgetl The dew was on the rose leaves. The garden grass was wet. And tears were in your startled eyes, And mist feU from the blue; When all the world was weeping, I said farewell to you. I kissed you! 'Twas the last one. Though lonely years have passed. The first kiss when the dew fell, O dearest, was the last ! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 81 O SHINING MOON O shining Moon ! Why tremble on the surging deep? O'er me above you softly float. And yet on breast of ocean sleep, O Moon! O Moon! And I in heavenly azure sail. On, on like you, in sunlight's gleam. Yet here below, on earth's rough breast A clod, I kiss the sod and dream. FAR LAND Far sky, whose zenith bids the sun stand still. Far land, where serpent crawls and vulture flies. Where trembling moons have swooned with thrill Of dead-black, fatal eyes ! Far land of amorous joy and flame. Far land, far land without a name ! RUBIES Blood fell softly drop by drop. From quivering wounds of pain. And rubies grew and multiplied In this red, gruesome rain. 82 DREAMS OF HELLAS ORCHESTRAL I hear the symphonies of harps celestial. That falling softly on the ear terrestrial. Lull me to dreams of ecstasy. I catch the echo of a far voice singing; Through centuries a hymn is ringing. As though by Miriam sung triumphantly. A song comes stealing over years of sighing. To soothe the heart which otherwise were dying In dreary throes of agony. From distant, misty, long-forgotten ages. The tones of lonely ones, the Sages, In music flood my life unceasingly. Ah ! never lone, for mystic ones supernal From out of all the universe eternal Seek and combine true hearts mysteriously. Those subtle souls that know not time nor nation. But in the vast, unlimited creation, Find me my loved and lost unerringly. And when in stubborn mood or bitter sorrow I ponder on the unrevealed to-morrow, I catch the tones of symphonies celestial. That falling softly on the ear terrestrial. Lull me to dreams of ecstasy. From far off times and climes still softly ringing, I hear the echo of a voice yet singing The hymn that Miriam sang triumphantly. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 83 THE SLEEP OF BRAHM Brahm slept. Long since the universe of suns Had passed away as do our dreams, And like a statue frozen Darkness Sat upon the throne. The never-ending sky Had rolled upon itself As doth a scroll. While gently rose and fell The rhythmic pulse of God. Far, far where thought goes not. Into the distance far Stole Echo on her naked feet Through night and endless space, Alive, alone. Nay, not alone. For near her glowing in the dark As fireflies gleam. Were living memories Quivering on the wing. Dim recollections hovering close. Enchanted by the passion of her voice. For Echo sang of love and hate. Of life and death. Even the ceaseless drip of tears That once had fallen on a storie. An army's solemn tread 84 DREAMS OF HELLAS Like beat of surf upon the strand. The mountains' lava speech. The bittern's cry. The hiss of fiery tongues Where yellow snakes of flame Once shot across the breast Of new-born suns. The groans of Stellar Mothers Bringing forth their young. The crash and clash From shock of star on star Mad in each other's arms. The thunder of the universe When skies bombarded skies That pregnant burst With lightning storms, — All this is Echo's voice. While firefly memories Gleamed and paled. The blood of tragedy Dyes red the cheek of youth. Alas, and they had not forgot! The eyes of many memories stared Far down the spaces Whence flew patient Time, And gazed on ancient dawns When Mons born from iffions Painted bright those morning skies ; And on some fated planet Saw the Immortal — mortal. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 85 Dead — alive, A winged man Whose ether plumes He strove to hide, A clod — a God. Brahm dreamed a dream That once in far off days He quivered in the aspen's Ikres «■ > And sucked the breast of Ei%:'.-' Then burrowed in the grouA A crawling thing. Till on a summer's morn He saw the light. And hot for blood In jimgles roved A red-tongued beast of prey. At last he stood erect — A Man, And climbed upon a cross. And died. And while he dreamed A woman's voice Rose pure and passionate. High, high above The echo paean of the vanished stars. And wove upon the soul of Brahm The magic spell of human love. 86 DREAMS OF HELLAS THE MASTER A hermit, silent as a mountain crag, For years a thinker, dumb; Then thought in thunder breaks the spell. And lo, the Master speaks ! Night drug-s'xtr victim till he prostrate lies A breathing « '^'^et in her arms ; But day Sis^latwiim with her fawning kiss. And rousing, drunk with nectar of her lips. He marries her and lives. Rest sleepily rocks to and fro. And suckles Action at her breast. The Master dreams and dreams and dreams, Then wakes to level mountains to the plain. And wrench the continents apart. HAVE I FORGOT? If I am I again and yet again. Why know I not the wherefore and the when? If vanished years and friends are ever mine, Then Memory's shock should thrill like ancient wine. Thief-like she steals and takes me unaware, A vision veiled, coquettish, fair. Insidious Memory, tantalizing, weak. Thy proof I ask. Speak, Memory, speak! MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 87 leveal the homes where I have grown and dwelt, ?he mother soils where I have thought and felt, ?he mountain's crest, the inland or the sea Vhere other suns have flashed their beams on me. Lround me weave the rainbow-tinted spell )f love's one ecstasy, and tell )f one dear face, O let me hear once more forgotten music I have heard before ! k- ihock me with rapture, magic, fine, .■'•*.■ Vnd haunt with passions rare, divine. \hl vaguer than sweet Zephyr's faint good-bye, s Memory's answer shading to a sigh; But Reason, on his icy throne, the Czar, iiurls logic through the spaces far: 'Set is the black, imperial seal )n buried ages which can none reveal save one, the Prophet; he and he alone Trora off this sacred tomb may lift the stone. ie feels the mystic, subtle ebb and flow Df tidal aeons, and can backward go Till in some ancient time and land he sip The potent nectar from the rose's lip. 'On vantage point of now he stands, ^nd gazes far o'er many lands; i.long the centuries casts his glance, n lightning flash and dizzy trance, limself he sees in many. One, ind like the rising, setting sun. 88 DREAMS OF HELLAS He feels the earth turn east away To find him young another day. "The spinning universe whirls round and round. But poised, alive, he hears the echo sound Of ancient strains; the Coming Age he sees, And scents tfee spices on the unborn breeze." Have I forg^;? Propheti' fflKitps! Seeming mocking lies — Cocoons iiy wealth? My garments hang in rags. ly valiant deeds? No sword have I. ly prospects ? Death is on my track. -ook you at me, distressed and sick, in poverty and old, ind yet I dare to tell you, friend, iuccess is mine. LOUISE I loved thee when the sunshine fell Upon thy shining head; I love thee still, though moans the pine. And thou, they say, art dead. Sad tale of woe ! Sweet song of hope ! The pine tree moans and sighs. The shadow on the sunshine falls. But genius never dies. If thou art dead, thou still dost live. The heart can ne'er forget; Though flown, as flies the shivering bird. Thy soul is with me yet. FEAGMENT Hark ! the breeze. Pregnant with song frenzy. Heavy with the scents of tropic seas. no DREAMS OF HELLAS Hark! O listen! Zephyr woos the yellow poppies. Kisses nodding buds to waking. Listen rapturously ! Hark! the sighing of the pine! The undying plaint of Time, Weighted to his shaggy locks with snow. Hark! the song of woe! EACH DAY The dawn grows pale And dies just after birth. But from its grave Upon the edge of earth Will rise again And gaze across the sea, As Cupid smiles And slyly passes me. The sun descends From heaven's azure arc. But from its tomb Of shadows and the dark Will jlash once more Across the endless skies. As love returns And looks into mine eyes. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 111 TO SARAH ELIZABETH LLOYD The bards were feasting once in Greece^ The sun flashed fire on Attica, And sifted gold upon the board Weighed down with fruit from vine and tree. It was a day Olympian, rare. And you, I feel, were with us there. Ah, wine we drank to all the gods. And poured libations on the ground To Aphrodite and to Zeus. I see you faintly, yet afar. As if upon some other star. That muse-mad, dancing, happy throng, Alive with rapture and with song. Has Mitylene faded, gone? Or floats it in your realm of dreams? The vines that trailed upon the ground. The wine, the oil, the shifting gleams. The soft Levant, The breath of Asia, fancies' flights. The golden days, the silvery nights? Have you forgot the Sapphic lyre. Its tone, its ecstasy, its fire? 112 DREAMS OF HELLAS DOOM Are we doomed as the sky is doomed. To the lightning and the thunder? Are we doomed as the beast is doomed, To save his life by plunder? Are we doomed to love and despair, To ecstasy, fierce or slow. To choke in heaven's air From the grip and clutch of woe? Fate ! Down, down, down on your knees ! Go smother your head in the wave! My doom is adrift on the seas And Liberty scorns her grave. NEAR ASIA Back to the heights, O Asia ! Back to the rivers where Kailasa soars. The Satlej, Indus, Ganges, Tsangbo flow Down from the Lake of Brahm, whose water pours In mighty torrents to the sea below. Back to the source, O Golden East! The peaks of my soul's Himala MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 113 'ierce heaven and melt in blue. The burning desert of my dreary pain s merging into glittering crests anew That soughtj long since, for paradise in vain. Ay clear, calm eyes look o'er the path I've trod. And o'er the rivers where my barque has sailed, ["he savage heights I've tried to climb to God, The valleys where I've dreamed and failed. ' know the West-wind singing still of love. The distant plateau, poppy-tinted fields, The trees, the lakes, the nightingale, the dove. The passion, the despair that nature yields. ^t last, the love, the hate, the friend, the foe. The dear, sweet eyes that laughed and laughed in mine, The scowling brow, the desert sign, the woe Of my high destiny, the hair-breadth line Twixt life and death I calmly scan, bid poising now, myself I see the Man Vith bow stretched taut for Mastery. The puzzling questions of the years are not, The answer looms, my doubts forgot, ^s clear as sunlight after night has flown, VTien I was stumbling on by faith alone. 114 DREAMS OF HELLAS O Asia! The incense and the perfumes come, The far soft jangle of a thousand bells, The minaret, the dome, the hum Of life, the tale it tells Of jewelled glass and subtle eyes. Of mystic brothers ancient, wise. The pageant of the East I see; My Asia, take me back to thee ! Back to thy heart and mind and fate. The weary eagle seeks his nest; Tired on the wing, I cannot wait, O Asia, take me home to rest! POEMS OF PLACE MASSACHUSETTS Land of the bramble-bush and thorn, O hardy land where I was born! The home of ice and sleet and fire, Of golden-rod and spruce and brier. Where simbeams burn into the snow. And eastern winds on lilies blow. Where autumn leaves are dipped in dyes The frost has stolen from the skies, Where huddled hills hug close together The shivering woods in stormy weather. Where white-robed birches straight and clean Are temple-priests 'mid evergreen. Land of the clover-field and kine. From thee I came, and thou art mine ! From thee, where clouds sink low and glower In lightning-tragedy and power; Where sullen the Atlantic roars Along the edge of jagged shores. And dashes treasures high on strands That dare the wrath of alien lands! O Mother Mine! Wan genius nurses at thy breast. Thy bitter-sweet on fame shall rest, 115 116 DREAMS OF HELLAS The great that thou didst wake through pain. Upon thy heart shall sleep again. O Mother Mine, I've wandered far. And followed Fortune's luring star. Yet ever, ever, I remember Thy rosy Jmie and grey December, Thy bramble bush and hidden thorn. Thou hardy land where I was born! CALIFORNIA There are lands where the poppies are golden. Where the skies are a rapture in blue. Where the breezes on roses are stealing. But land of my love, what of you? There are lands where the birds warble ever. Where the air is a thrill in the sun. Where the singer and song sever never. And beauty and passion are one. There are lands where the pine and the palm-tree. The rose and the lily are fair, Where color is married to music. But magic — thy magic — O where? There are lands where the hiUs silver-crested Flash far on a foam-glitt'ring sea. Where Winter weds amorous Summer, But land of my love, what of thee? POEMS OF PLACE 117 Thy heart like thy poppy is golden, Thy story is writ in a gleam, Thy magic like wine it is olden. And hid in the web of a dream. When the padre and poet had found thee. Thy bells with a prophecy tolled. For duty loved beauty, and round thee The fabric of romance was rolled. The vale with the snow peak above her Through ages in sunlight has lain. Here art fondles nature, a lover Forever in shine or in rain. There is fire where the poppy is dreaming. And romance in woman's large eyes. There is splendor where sunbeams are streaming From the far, lucid vault of thy skies. And the stars and the moon look in wonder On thy mountains and ocean and vale. From azures too tender for thunder. Too clear for the lightning or gale. There are lands drunk with summer and beauty. But none, magic country, like thee ! Where the palm and the pine — love and duty — Are friends from the hills to the sea. 118 DREAMS OF HELLAS THE CLIFFS OF SAN JUAN Past the cliffs of San Juan enchanted I gaze Far over the waste till the soft lucent haze Of the air and the wave dim islands enshroud. And the wings of my fancy are lost in a cloud. The ocean majestic defying the sky. His green-dragon splendor imrivalled and high. His scales flashing flame, his voice a soft lull. Caresses Hawaii, his tropic sea-gull. And farther my sight pierces, certain and keen. Till the bridge of delight "Arkashima" is seen. And Hondo and Yezo appear like the morn With sunrise and softness and dew of the dawn. And Pacific Sargasso all flotsam and wreck Like a ravishing serpent entangles the deck. Of a derelict caught by the folds that entwine The sails and the hulks of the tramps of the brine. O the range of my eyes ! no limits have they Astray with the muse on this vast water-way. Afar in the north, cut and ground, I behold The diamonds of ice that flashing and cold Mock curtly my sight with their glamour and spell. The flame of delight or the prescience of hell. Great sea of the Seven ! the awful, the blue. The mirror of heaven, away far from you. Must I draw my rapt fancy, and strive to forget The cliffs of San Juan that are haunting me yet. POEMS OF PLACE 119 THE BLUE GROTTO A blue more subtle than the heaven's gleam. More azure than the open sea. No artist yet has dreamed thy dream, No Tyrian dye has rivaled thee. Nor easily is beauty bought. Nor cheap is magic fair as thine — The tints of paradise I've sought In thee are found, intense, divine. DOMREMY Oh, the gnarled, wizened shrubs of Domremy Are telling us yet of Joan, Her adorers as ardent and many As when she rode head of her clan. Not a bird but is valiantly singing Of her, the courageous, supreme; Not a bell in the vale but is ringing Its tale of the Maid and her dream. The trees where she talked with the Angels, The blossoms that spring from the sod, Are harking again for the voices. And waiting the mandate of God. 120 DREAMS OF HELLAS And the storms are the crash and the thunder When she scaled the enemies' crag. While the foe^ in despair, fled from under The lilies of France on her flag. Domremy remembers forever, Nor France, nor Orleans can forget. Champagne from Lorraine cannot sever; The flag of Joan flutters yet. O VALE YOSEMITE! Thy dome imperial, vanishing above. Thy pinnacles sharp shafts of flame. Forked lightning flung from thy sheer flanks. Belligerent scorn upon thy crest Speak thy Divinity. With tremolos the singing air Above, below and everywhere. Throbs tone on tone, a rhapsody. Thy spell, thy wizard chanting spell. Thy snare of light and shade, thy witchery On me shall brood and brood forevermore. POEMS OF PLACE 121 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL! (At the Mosque of Sultan Hassan.) Dead beauty? Ah no, yet alive! Mid the ruin and wreck there survive The mimbar, the court and the span, The marvel and grace of the plan. The holy of holies, designs Lily-formed, the curves and the lines. The gigantic sweep of the arches, Maksoorah, where often there marches One faithful to prayer. Dead beauty? Ah no, all the air Is alive with the thrill of the old. Exquisite, stupendous and bold. THE TEMPLE OF MINERVA Nor Sabine hills, nor Alban height — Sierra Madre is our own — Nor snare of Italy, but light Of flaming Southern skies alone Shall cast the spell, when one shall rear Minerva's matchless temple here. 122 DREAMS OF HELLAS AT THE MOSQUE OF MOHAMMED ALI Its minarets that stab the blue. Like needles pierce the azure through; The sharp defiance that can dare To laugh at Khem in upper air But foils its citadel sublime, A challenge to the Nile and time. ' Within, desire that melts away Is caught in mesh of lantern's play. Or on the alabaster's gleam Is traced a Saracenic dream. THE DESERT LOTH— IRAN Desert Loth ! Like metal seething. I, alas ! thy hot air breathing. Fascinated still am gazing Where an angry sun is blazing. Dread remembrance! burning ever, Haunting vision ! fading never. Void of green or shadow, deadly. Hue of blood and gleaming redly. Break, O break this awful spell. Thou, O dearest Loth, art Hell! Nay, far out upon iJiy brink Uplands misty, purple, pink. Loom like wavering phantoms high — Iran's mountains touch the sky. POEMS OF PLACE 123 O desert of my soul ! is there Some distant verge, where rosy-j fair, The upland rises soft of view, And deadly wastes are lost in blue? THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 'Twas long ago a tropic sky Came down to greet the sea, and I Saw floating on the shrouded deep A fog-draped island lost in sleep. Beneath the mystic, hazy dome I walked the ship's broad deck alone. And listened to the tragic sigh That stole in echoes faintly by. Off to a phantom shore the breeze Flew gently — Ah, 'twas long ago ! — The mist-draped isle, the midnight seas. The echoes' sad refrain, the sky. The lonely deck, far space — and I ! A SIERRA MINSTER Those aisles among the trees of pine. Those far dim aisles, I see them yet! The temple where long since I strayed Amid its columns hoary, great. 124 DREAMS OF HELLAS Upholding with their giant strength The Minster's mighty dome of blue. O mystic haunt of wandering shade! The sun has left his frescoed arch. And Time is sleeping on the wing. Orchestral music gently steals Upon mine ears from unseen harps. While rhythmic anthems rise and fall With sobbing, soughing winds. Ah! singing voices come from far And float along these dimi, mysterious aisles. Like echoes from the ages gone. The place is haunted. Now a priest Peers round an altar draped with moss; Another strides with fine and lofty mien Along the vista of the nave. While suppliants kneel. Pale, pleading ghosts That shudder as they pray. Thou Minster, 'mid Sierra's snows — Thy lofty height, thy matchless dome. Thy long perspectives stretching on In shadowy, narrowing aisles. Thy mellow light and pregnant calm Set thee apart Unrivalled, mystical, alone! POEMS OF PLACE 125 FROM LESBOS Sappho, At thy white feet to-day are lovers kneeling, As they in Mitylene knelt. To-day thine endless passion fiercely feeling. As they in Mitylene felt. 'Twas Lesbos only that could bear thee, Alcaeus' mother and thine own. The Tenth Muse thou ! To whom compare thee ? The Nine have left thee here alone. Tear out the faded leaf of history, That tells of love's incarnate bliss. Enwrap the Parthenon in mystery, Forget the crowned Acropolis ! But thou! From Hellas' shores still ringing Comes music o'er the .Slgean sea, A spirit to a star is singing, And raptured tells the world of thee. . Speed on, fleet time ! Though pausing never. Eternity enfolds thee yet! To music wilt thou hurry ever. For Sappho thou canst not forget. 126 DREAMS OF HELLAS ATTICA Blue Dome! that arches high o'er Attica — Blue Dome ! I lift mine eyes Unto thy vastness — satisfied. Thy clouds, thy moon, thy stars! Blue Dome, o'er Attica — blue Dome ! To my enchanted ears comes thimdering An epic's grand refrain. While echoes on and ever The Greek's majestic strain. And to mine eyes a vision! Athena, peerless, strong! Ionic temples, marble white. The Porticoes, the Painted Porch, The five-fold gates. The virgin goddess, ivory, gold With griffin and with sphinx, Medusa on her breast, A spear within her hand. The aegis at her feet, A slimy serpent, subtle, near. O'erwhelmed, I close my wondering eyes. But wake again at Memory's thrill. Behold Ceramicus ! sculptured, sublime. And high above Acropolis, the bronze Colossus deified. Minerva flashing helmet plumes, The Hill of Mars ! an owl, a tomb ! And while entranced I onward gaze Across this spectral, classic land, POEMS OF PLACE 127 . hear the clash at Marathon, Salamis and Thermopylae, ^d shuddering, watch the ancient great That slowly, slowly, pass me by. IN THESSALY In Thessaly still are the bright-sandaled Muses Haunting the mountain, plucking the bay leaves, Weaving the garlands ; But where is the singer. Where is the song? Soft comes the breeze from afar North, Wafting the breath of the roses. Floating by Pelion, Ossa caressing. Soft like a spell. Droop must the roses. The poet has flown; And the Muses despairing Wander alone. KAILASA Thou Terrible, the Mount Meru! A "lotus pistil" in the blue. The Hindu thy far crest adores That like a gleaming symbol soars, 128 DREAMS OF HELLAS Or humble in thy shadow lies. And trembling lies, or trembling dies. The lips of thy mysterious cave The Satlej and the Indus lave, While down thy massive deep-gorged flanks, Between their sinuous, fickle banks, A Ganges or a Tsangbo steals And daringly thy wealth reveals. Near by, where float through coimtless dawns A flock of spotless sacred swans, A jewel lake lies blue and calm. Created by the breath of Brahm. Kailasa, one, unsealed, sublime. Death-scorning, thou repellest time! From thy scarped breast the sacred Four Rush on to xmplumbed depths, and pour Into the vast, dread human sea The myriad treasures born of thee. ASP ASIA— MELETUS She was Greek, and claiming this I'm singing you a song of Hellas' azure skies. And moons that gazed on sister moons In opal seas. She was Greek, and stately with long draperies, A noble breast, imperial brows. She swept Hellenic shores with splendid eyes. Where genius half-concealed and thinly veiled POEMS OF PLACE 129 stole glances at great Pericles, ^h, Pericles, thou wast undone ! Jpon thy soul she softly fell Vs dew upon the branching oak. Oid she conceal beneath her drooping sleeves iVith tender heart of Pericles , The throbbing heart of Greece? Did she entangle in Hellenic hair The sunbeams of her native skies, Vnd hide 'mid witching Grecian folds Sweet Loves with dangerous eyes? ?air Phantom of the Classic Past! ^mong the groves of Attica Dost 1;hou, unseen and sad, jaze wistfully on Hellas' ruined pile? Dr are transcendent memories of ancient palmy days still haunting thee Is thou dost haunt the magic Helicon? THE TAJ MEHAL O Beauty! loft sighs the wind within the echoing turrets of the Taj, ^'^hat fair, unearthly, dim mirage )n the horizon matches thee, )r what rare dream of ecstasy s like thy moonlit magic, O Mehal! 130 DREAMS OF HELLAS MajestiCj lone, Tinje brushes thee with feathery wing, While flying past the ages sing Of life, nor can the years forget. But chant of love eternal yet. The heart of Mogul merged itself in thee. Tribute divine to memory ! The Saracen yet calls unto his own. Where swells thy perfect, gleaming dome. The mind that glitters on and will not die Still dwells in marble under India's sky. In sadness oft I steal away to weep. When rises in my soul, though buried deep, A vision of this magic, peerless tomb. Where laughing gems defy the shadow's gloom; Where golden memories perfumed by the breeze Come floating in from somber cypress trees. A tomb to Love ! Transcendent irony ! As if a passion so divine could die! Beyond the Jumna rolls, To-day and yesterday a mystery. To-morrow still the same. While Fate stalks on Weighed down with written scrolls, Still unconcerned and young The Jumna rolls and" rolls. Ah ! I have prayed and yearned That life's deep river might flow on like thee From crystal source to sapphire sea. Young, changeless, unconcerned. POEMS OF PLACE ISl ilthough a tomb should send its minarets itraight to the sky, or mighty parapets Lnd mystic dome resound ^'^ith phantom singing and the ghost of sound. Lm I eternal? Am I wise? "hen let the skull have gems for eyes ! im I imperial — aye, a god? ["hen let the buried spurn the sod ! '"air Moomtaj, speak! Did Love depart? llusion, is its name the heart? )r is the god where Jumna flows, Vhere still the breeze through cypress blows, Vhere flash the jewels, gleam on gleam, )f fair Mehal, the lover's dream? I HAVE BEEN UNDER IRISH SKIES I have been under Irish Skies When the slant rain fell on the sod. Like the silver threads of a wind-swept harp Strung loose by the hand of God. I have been under Irish Skies As clear as the Shannon stream. As blue as a colleen's eyes That flash like the water's gleam. O, the Irish Skies are grey or fair As the breeze-tossed Irish Sea ! O, the Irish soul has cast its spell On the Irish land and me! 132 DREAMS OF HELLAS AMONG THE AZORES Down came the sky everywhere To the rim of the ocean, and there Blinked Fayal, Moorish and old Like tapestry sprinkled with gold. And Pico bit into the cloud That wrapped him about in a shroud, A frenzy of shades faded dim, A fantasy tuned to a hymn. THE MEDITERRANEAN I shall never forget, but cherish. Though the stone-pines cease to be. Though the grapes of Ischia perish. And dry is the matchless sea. 0,*Khem, I shall ever feel you! Though the reeds and date-palm go. Though the Libyan Sands conceal you. And the Nile shall cease to flow. For my soul in giving holds you. As harmony clings to time. And memory's scroll enfolds you As melody wraps a rhyme. POEMS OF PLACE 13S THE EUPHRATES The Vale of Anu drenched in light, Hugged close to milk and honey breasts, The huge, bold gem of Babylon, The sun sailed high Medusa-mad; It scorched the rocks and distant plains. And sent its tongues of flame To lick the luscious river dry. Along the banks seared mounds of earth Threw off malignant heat That burned the eyes of men. And made them dizzy, amorous, drunk With poisoned lust of life. Meandering here and there a lazy snake, Euphrates, sick, careened its neck. While spurting fire from jewelled scales That dared the jealous source of life. And flaunted sneers at burning hell. It clung to temples, columns, trees. Where Bel shot up from pyramidal base. And walls of chiselled brick Or gates of gleaming brass Defied the ramparts of the Syrian hills. From somewhere in the Taurus peaks it sprang. Its river-soul like winking dawn. As crystal-clear as morning air. Then down and down and down it came 134 DREAMS OF HELLAS To Vale of Anu. Ah! Aflame with love of life, in splendid heat. On Mesopotamia's breast it flowed, And carnal things, the rank, the good. Leaped forth and closed it in. While man with eyes bequeathed by Eve, Adored the waters gushing rich With seeds and bloom and fruit. The Moon, alas ! when full of ravished light, Still longs and strives for more. And staggering as she climbs the sky. In greed of getting, giving all. Spills beams in careless waste On mountain, valley, sea. A concubine of artful fate. Yet roaming free with men and gods. And drinking glances from their eyes. The Woman-soul of Babylon, Once soaring mid the purple heights Like moons and moons went glamour-mad. And down to Vale of Anu came. And rich with getting, gave up all: Her soul, Euphrates' own; Her ears, Euphrates' shells that sang; Her hair, the plaything of Euphrates' breath; Her eyes, the mirrors of Euphrates' dreams. The hanging gardens, panting air. The darts and quivers of its heat. The shivering dawn, the clouds, the night. POEMS OF PLACE 135 The ecstasies and pangs of birth. The rigors and extremes of death, Euphrates knew. And she? All Babylon was in her eyes, All evil and all good. A harlot of supreme unrest, A temple-virgin without stain. Prolific as the Tigris' banks. As barren as the desert sands. She fawned on earth with eyes afire Till Death was warmed to virile life And life lay swooning, trembling, dead. She was the pearl made flawless by the flaw. The ruby born of blood and pain. The sunset opal on horizon's rim. The diamond in the meteor's heart. Life's river on the desert's brim. A KISS In Ghilan and Mazandaran Caucasia's lips to Iran's cling; Afire with unspent melody The poet's soul must deathless sing. OLD CATHAY CHANG TZU O Chang Tzu ! remember the spice on the breeze. The sandalwood fragrance from over the seas, The ruler in yellow, Confucius, the seer, The passion of Hui Tzu, the glamour, the cheer When Hanchih was played in the wilds of Timg-ting The maddest of music on rhapsody's string. Remember the yin and remember the yang. The wind and the rain, the darkness, the light. Remember high Sung, remember great Tang, Mount Ming in the North, the distance, the night. O forget not the pipe, the reed and the flute. The singer that sang, the bard that was mute ! Forget not the cords that were knotted, and then Remember the women, remember the men. O Chang Tzu come back to your yellow Cathay ! Come back with your riddles and show us "the way" ! From the vastness of nowhere, O |Somewhere appear ! Come home to your people who wait for you here ! 136 OLD CATHAY 187 'TWAS IN THE DAYS OF SANGHU 'Twas in the days of Sanghu, Where keen Yin cuts the heights, Where the moon smiles o'er Liao, On the waning summer nights. Where the temple ceases climbing And yields its site to none. That you walked in magic sandals, And dreamed your dream alone. Softly backward go you floating. Like a sampan with the tide. To the music of the ages A^'^ith the symphonies you glide Into visions clear, imperial. Mystic subtleties sublime. The Yin and Yang, the earth and sky, Eternity and time. Ah! has the dream come over From the mighty Kingan snows? Does it cling upon the aeons, A perfumed, deathless rose? And the sparkle of Liao ! Are the diamonds flashing still? And the gold and silver emblems In the temple on the hill? 138 DREAMS OF HELLAS O look through glass of glamour To the summit and the moon^ To the ancient and the holy Of the morning and the noon ! For Tao you are searching. Once known hy young Hei Wy, The Tao of the streams and Ping, The Tao of the sky. Of the Great Bear and Kanpi That uplifted Kuen-Lun, The Tao of the streams and Ping, The Tao of the sun. Tzu Kimg was softly singing And the Zytha with him rang; I hear the echo ringing, I hear the song he sang. "Ah! Wilt thou come back to us Sanghu?" "Ah! Wilt thou come back to us Sanghu?" And the mystic Zytha shivers Yet with tremolos of song. And the phantom Orient quivers With the life for which you long. OLD CATHAY 139 AH KIM A white gull passes, like a love most fond, A fading sail skims on the ocean's rim, And solemn, calm as Buddha's image grim. Ah Kim is fixed on things beyond : The Flowery Kingdom, death and life. Tight-clenched in passion's gnawing feast. Creating pleasure, caution, strife. The soul, the jewel of the East. The spirit of the sword is there. The cry of torture, plague, despair. The clutch on earth, with sharp-nailed claws. That all her mountain flanks and flaws Which loom above this land of silk Yield from themselves a mother's milk. "Home, home to China!" where his own have died. And fluttering paper prayers are hung! Home, back to China where the temples bide. And trembling wind-blown bells are rung! Back to the Yangtse, Hoang-Ho, Back to Pekin, the yellow soil. Back to the wife and babies, lo! Back to the game, the luck, the spoil. 140 DREAMS OF HELLAS Back to the bones of honored sires That rattling in their boxes know His simple instincts and desires. Back to the chop-sticks, bowl of rice. Back to the cousins, back to life, "Back, back to China!" Land of extremes in bliss and sighs, Land of mysterious almond eyes. The mass a unit, tragic, grim, "Home, home to China!" prays Ah Kim. And still he gazes " 'cross the sea," On fertile field and magic stream. The sampan, hut, pagoda's gleam, And then, as patient as the beast That knows alone the mystic name. Evil as earth at. heaven's feast. He goes about his menial "game." This Chinaman, "a mere machine,'' "Automaton," "who never basks In mediaeval dream." He garnishes and sweeps and brews, A slave to modern cult and plan, His face a mask, his smile a cheat, "For Cathay never breeds a man !" His heathenism just a joke, A superstition, paper prayer. His joss and devil but the yoke That keeps him steady everywhere. OLD CATHAY 141 So carps the undiluted West, Complacent, understanding naught Save vetoes, negatives and words, Proof-positive or "ought." Meantime Kingan is soaring stiU, The Xiang flows, the flowers bloom, The dragon climbs the rugged hill. The great wall staggers to its doom. Along the bosses of the heights. The rice fields thrive in heaven's air, And 'neath the stars on winter nights Life grim, undaunted everywhere, Alert, and starving, out of breath Escapes, perchance, the fangs of death. THE LIGHT ON NAMSAN A beacon blazes on each Corean crest. Each hill in flame salutes the rest. From Namsan fiery signals fly Along the waste of sea and sky. From peak to peak, from height to height. Across the gloomy realms of night. The full, assuring news to tell In Corea's kingdom all is well. NIPPON THE SWORD OF OLD JAPAN Its sheen was more bewildering Than a rare Damascus blade; There was sunrise in its glitter. And a sunset in its shade. In the mirror of its surface Was the Inland Sea, a gleam, And the crest of Fujiyama, With a flash of ice, a dream. Chorus — O, the sword of Old Japan, Which was forged for the valiant clan That fought at Hinamoto For the feudal rights of man ! Its lover hugged his trusty sword As though it were his bride; In the making of his weapon A man, perhaps, had died. So keen its edge it vanished, 'Twas a danger out of sight, A blend of earth and sun and air, Of morning, noon and night. 142 NIPPON 143 And it lunged and glanced and glittered, A peacock frenzy when Its deadly shift of color Defied the foe, and then With a lightning flash and fury It rained a crimson shower From hilt to point, avenger, Compelling in its power. Chorus — O, the sword of Old Japan, Which was forged for the valiant clan That fought at Hinamoto For the feudal rights of man ! It was sacred, for the people In the sword had put their trust, 'Nor on its purple gleaming Was a hint of cloud or rust. From the sheath it came and flying Of Death a playmate made. For the living were the dying With the flashing of the blade. But like magic it has vanished; On a well-remembered day To the scabbard it was banished. And the sword was laid away. Yet keen its edge as ever When fought the valiant clan! Its ancient blade is potent yet. The sword of Old Japan. 144 DREAMS OF HELLAS Chorus — O, the sword of Old Japan, Which was forged for the valiant clan That fought at Hinamoto For the feudal rights of man! NIPPON'S "GO-DOWN" Her blade with its fire and its edge and its sheen. Her sword that has rivaled the famed Damascene Is laid in the scabbard, they say. Her battleship Fugi may shiver and growl. Her cruiser Asama may tremble and howl. But the demon, the devil that rivaled the fan. The subtle, the flashing, quick sword of Japan Is laid in the "Go-down" away. Her gunboat Akagi may blaze on the foe, Defiant of Russia, of death or of woe, But look, surly Bear, For a gleam in the air That might be a sunbeam, or might be a blade, A moonbeam gone rampant, a sword in the shade. An icicle fallen from Fuji's white crown! Have a care, have a care. Lest the scabbard, old Bear, Lie empty in Nippon's "Go-down"! There are fighters and fighters and fighters ashore. On mines of torpedoes are fighters still more; NIPPON 145 There's the bomb and the bullet^ the rifle and gun. The battle well lost, the battle well won, — Have a care, have a care ! For the edge in the air. The demon, the devil that rivaled the fan. The subtle, the tragic, quick sword of Japan. AKAGI Shot in the back ! Ah, what a destiny ! Killed at his post, as fits a man! And this, the hero's tragic victory. Who saved the honor of Japan. From far, the mainmast of Akagi, Rang out his voice above the wave. Defiant, lone, erect in majesty He challenged death, for he was brave. No more cared he for years of living; A fame immortal he has won. His land to him her heart is giving, On his escutcheon shines the sun. The rising sun! A cloudless morning! Aye, nail the gleaming banner fast! Flag of Japan, the East adorning. Float on above Akagi's mast! 146 DREAMS OF HELLAS O THE SAKI OF KIOTO! Far in the West is Fujiyama, Great phantasmal "Ar Kishima"! Waves of blue are thundering on "The Bridge of Heaven" — Fair Nippon. Where the cherry-blossoms tremble And their petals fly like snow, 'Mid the temples of Kioto, Where the royal plum-trees grow. Sits the smiling, patient Buddha, On Nirvana pondering long. While the rhythmic river sighing Flows to melody and song. O the saki of Kioto Where the priest and scholar tread ! O the wine of Hinamoto! O the living and the dead ! RENDERINGS FROM THE JAPANESE SUMA BEACH, JAPAN (From Kinza Hirai) O where did Tara's army drown? Far north the Rocko's towering peak Frowns grimly on the Inland Sea. Like distant echo comes the shriek Of steamer whistle, frantic, free. Where rushes swiftly the black breath Of dusky smoke, as if to flee From melancholy fate of death. O where did Tara's army drown? The restless, sighing breakers With their tragic undertone Unfold no tale, but rend my heart As listening here I brood alone. OTOWA FALLS, JAPAN (From Kinza Hirai) Among the clouds the temple roof And massive terrace seem to float, 147 148 DREAMS OF HELLAS While darkly-robed the priest-like pines With e£Eort climb the steep hillside To pause before the sacred door. And chant in melancholy tones, A hymn to Daishi, the divine. Three waterfalls, like silver threads. Leap from Otowa's rugged loin And fill the air with cooling sound That mingles tenderly its tones With the Cicada's winged notes, And fills the sacred, calm retreat With purest melody. ON THE GENKAI SEA (From Kinza Hirai) The singing wind hums round the straining sail While moonlight glitters on the rail And flashes, from an angry sea That tosses up its spray at me. A monster wave, a slimy whale. Spouts fibny froth into the gale. Or like a dragon turns and coils To clutch the ship within its toils. The Genkai sea is lost in night. And timid souls are faint with fright. Above, the yawning, eager wave. Is open like a hungry grave. RENDERINGS FROM THE JAPAlSTESE 149 THE NIGHTINGALE The spring has come: Does the nightingale fancy the snow is the flower. When she warbles sweet notes on the snow-sprinkled bower ? (Sosei Heshi) The nightingale has failed to sing; Whate'er men say, it is not Spring. (Mibu no Tadamine) (At the Poetry Match in the Empress' Palace in the period of Kwampei) By the wind the bloom's fragrance I send far and wide. For enticing 'twill serve As the nightingale's guide. (Ki no Tomonori) The valley breezes cleave the ice, And out from crevice here and there. The flower-hued ripples quickly rise. Like Spring's first blossoms everywhere. (Minamoto no Masazumi) 150 DREAMS OF HELLAS A LOVE POEM Inconstant seems the cherry-bloom. Yet lovely petal scatters not. It waits for one who for a year To gaze on it has quite forgot. Reply Inconstant to the flower, you say. To-day I timely come, nor wait. To-morrow like the snow 'twill fall. And though not dead 'twere loved too late. (Nauhira no Asomi) When cherry-blossoms fluttering fly Like ebbing tides in limpid air, Then roll the white waves in the sky Although the water is not there. THE CHERRY To pluck the charming cherry-bloom. Makes sad my tender heart; Come let me lodge beside the tree Until its splendor shall depart. Who knows where dwells the cruel wind. That on the cherry-blossoms blow? Who knows, I ask, show me the way. And there to tell my woes I'll go. RENDERINGS FROM THE JAPANESE 151 (Address to flower newly opened on a cherry-tree) Young cherry-flower^ one Spring alone Canst thou this whole year know ; Avoid the fate of kindred blooms That from thy tree shall sometime blow. (Tsuiayumi) THE PLUM More winning than its hue^ The perfume of the flower. Whose sleeve, I wonder, softly touched The plum-tree of my bower? (Unknown) Near home no plum-tree will I plant. Lest I its fragrance should mistake For that of one for whom I wait. (Unknown) O where is the bloom of the plum? All things on the earth are white. To follow its scent is my only guide On a gleaming, moonlight night. 152 DREAMS OF HELLAS PALACE OF PRINCE ROYAL Thou wind of Spring, Blow not upon the flowers, If petals scatter willingly. Without the aid of thee. (Fugiwara no Toshikaza) GAZING UPON THE CAPITAL The willows interlace and twine, The Capital is overlaid With interweaving cherry-blooms. The Miya Ko is Spring's brocade. (The willow-tree near Saidaiji, a temple) Spring's willow! From its boughs the light green twisted threads are hung; Like beads the snowy drops of dew Are close together lightly strung. (Sojo Haijo) To what can the world be compared? The deep abyss of yesterday is the shoal of to-day. RUSSIA TO LERMOINTOV Thou bard of Caucasus, Whose melancholy eyes Once swept the Russian plains. To thee I bring from distant clime An offering. They said that thou wast dead; Love knelt to thee and bade thee speak; Thy lips, thy youthful lips were dumb. Hark, hark! is that thy golden voice StiU ringing mid the giant pines .'' Does yon lone bird sing thy weird song? And are those thundering tones Which echo from the hills thine own? Lave bade thee open thy young eyes. Those stars that saw the face of God; Thy pallid lids were still — Nay! nay! dost thou behold again The light that blazes far for thee On land and sea? » * * 163 154 DREAMS OF HELLAS Where £asbek glitters^ and the Dnieper flows. Where Terek flashes 'midst eternal snows. Across the Steppes, or in the forest depths, Where rises high the spire and dome Of Caucasus, As once before, we crown thee now. Here, here, in Muscovy art thou ! TO MY RUSSIAN FRIEND P. A. DEMENS We've dreamed on the heights together. We've scanned the Russian plain. We've listened in sunny weather. And faced the gale and rain. For the bard of bards was singing The famous minstrel song. Tzar Terrible was bringing His mighty hosts along. And Orsha wildly shouted, Arsense with lightning played; Injustice he had flouted. His heart was with the maid. The Demon too was calling Where Terek leaped and roared. And we saw the flash of Kasbek, As the bird of the mountain soared. EUSSIA 155 Or young Tamara dancing Where beauty was like fire, And sunbeams hotly glancing Were symbols of desire. We've pierced the fog together On the Dnieper, cold and drear. We've seen the trees that bowed like ghosts And the wild beast shrunk with fear. We've gazed on the vale of Groosia Where song birds love and sing, And the shades of green-decked Chinar Enhance the bliss of Spring. On Moscow in the sunrise And on the Kremlin white We saw the shifting clouds in skies That played with day and night. Ah yes ! the poet with us. We've gone to the Steppes afar. From North to Caspian's border Under the Russian star. From you I've ravished splendor Of the old-time court and king. From you the beauty tender Of the Groosian vale in Spring. RENDERINGS FROM THE RUSSIAN OF LERMONTOV OATH OF THE DEMON (Rendered into English by Annie E. Cheney and P. A. Demens) I swear by creation's first day, I swear by its last day, I swear by disgrace of crime. By the triumphs of truth ! I swear by the bitter torture of my fall. By my short hope of victory. I swear by my meeting with thee. And by the coming parting; I swear by the hosts of spirits, My subordinates by fate. By the words of the passionless angels. My watchful foes; I swear by Hell and by Heaven, By all that is sacred on Earth, And by thee! I swear by thy last look. By thy first tear. By the breath of thy life, By waves of thy silken curls, 156 RENDERINGS FROM THE RUSSIAN 157 I sweaf by bliss and by sorrow, I swear by my love: Thou art my religion. Thou art my God. My might I east at thy feet. I wait for thy heart as a gift, And O, for one moment of bliss Take thou Eternity! Forget thy past desires. Leave this revolting spot. Instead of it, I'll freely give Proud Wisdom's fruits. Aye, from the Eastern Star for thee I'll tear her golden crown. I'll take the midnight dew from flowers And deck thy coronet. I'll bring a ribbon of the dawn To twine about thy form. With pure aroma will I fill The lucid balmy air. I'll ravish thy yoimg ears With melody divine; With amber and with turquoise gems I'U build a home for thee. I'll plunge into the ocean's depths, I'll fly beyond the clouds, I'll give thee all the earth — ZiOve me! 158 DREAMS OF HELLAS EXTRACT FROM THE POEM OF LERMONTOV WRITTEN IN 1837 ON THE DEATH OF PUSHKIN Gone the Poet! He, proud honor's slave, By slander crushed, is dead With lead and vengeance in his breast. A grave Entombs his haughty head. The petty stings of trifles never Could his great soul retain; Against the world, alone as ever. He rose; and he was slain. No more will music follow him. Nor will he sing his song again. The Poet's house is narrow, grim; A seal is on his lips and pen. THE GIFTS OF TEREK (A Free Rendering from Lermontov) Terek, wild and angry, midst the great rocks roars, And like a storm is moaning, sighing. While in foam his tears are flying, Nearing the green valley sppng Caspian's shores. RENDERINGS FROM THE RUSSIAN 159 He calm becomes^ and close' beside the sea He whispers, gently smiling, smiling: "Make a place for me," — ^thus whiling With tender soft beguiling, — "Make a place for me." "Tired of freedom, I desire sweet rest to take. I was born where Kasbek wonders. Nursed upon a breast that thunders; With the power of man who blunders Bitter war I make, "For Daryal ruined I, thy children to delight, Their greed to gratify. A mass of stones that lie Where valley grasses die, I brought with all my might." The blue sea dreams as if asleep beside the shore, Voluptuous banks his form encasing. Their tender arms with love embracing, While. Terek now is boldly facing Old Caspian to implore. And whispering low: "A treasure I have brought to thee; No common gift is this I hold. From where the clouds of battle rolled I bring a warrior true and bold, A brave Circassian he ! 160 DEEAMS OF HELLAS "His brow is knit, a trace of blood has left its track; His look is fearless as the day With hatred that will not away. His forelock recklessly doth stray Across his back. "Beyond a price the cuirass on his breast. With plates of steel where lies enrolled A holy verse inscribed in gold, A motto from the Koran old Is there to rest." But lying low by curving shores dmnb Caspian slept. And trembling Terek spoke once more: "O, listen, listen I implore! For surely now must thou adore The gift I've kept. "All else is naught, the world alone could this avail, I'll bring thee with my rushing waves. The boon thy longing spirit craves, A Cossack girl. The water laves Her shoulders pale. "Her dreamy face is sorrowful, but free from care; In sleep her aspect is most sweet. A wound bleeds where her heart once beat. The blood is streaming to her feet. Her locks are fair. RENDERINGS FROM THE RUSSIAN l6l "One only feels no sorrow for the maiden dead, A noble Cossack, proud and brave. Who caring not his life to save Will seek a melancholy grave And lose his head. "He saddled his black horse, and in a midnight fray Must be by fatal dagger killed; By vile Circassian will be spilled The blood he ruthlessly has willed To flow away." The river ceases talk so querulous and grim, For white above him as the snow A head, where dripping tresses show And tremble on the waves that flow. Looks down at him. A glittering king, the sea in majesty of strength arose As mighty as a thunder storm. His dark blue eyes with passion warm. While vanished from his slippery form Was sweet repose. He trembled with expectancy, he thrilled with passion's joy. Then clasped in his embracing arms The Cossack girl with all her charms And murmured love that conquers, calms Without alloy. 162 DREAMS OF HELLAS THE ROCK (Rendering from the Russian of Lermontov) There softly stole upon the breast Of lonely rock, gigantic, grim, A golden cloud to sleep and rest. And dream and dream again of him. It sweetly slept the whole night through, But in the early hour of dawn Whence it had come into the blue It gaily went on wings of morn. Imbued with thought, upon its brow The rock retains a moistened trace. Alone as once before, but now The tears are trickling down his face. THE VALLEY OF GROOSIA (Rendering from The Demon) Beneath him came floating a vale. Fair Groosia ! a picture new-spread With a carpet of green, A region of columned ruins Where murmuring streams ever glide Over beds of translucent stones, Rose-vines where the nightingales sing RENDERINGS FROM THE RUSSIAN l63 To women their song Unravished by sound of their love, The chinar's deep shadows crowned by thick ivy. The cavern where hides through the heat of the day The graceful gazelle. The light and the life, the murmur of leaves. The hundred-voiced throng, all alive. The breathing of numberless plants, The sensual heat of the noon. The ever-full nights with aroma of dews. And the bright magic stars, Like a Groosian girl's eyes. ON THE DNIEPER— WINTER (Rendering from Lermontov) 'Tis winter, from a ghastly depth Appear the sable trunks of trees That to the freezing Dnieper bow like ghosts. Day dim and wan is gazing in a glass of ice. And all the rifts are full of snow. A rabbit finds his hole at dawn. And springing back and forth leaves many tracks. Ofttimes at night the house-dog barks and growls When steals a thin and hungry wolf too near. Or 'cross the quiet fields His trampling steps and gnashing teeth are heard. And in the dark amid the bush, by hundreds Glittering eyes like candles flash. 164 DEEAMS OF HELLAS ON THE DNIEPER— DAWiN (Rendering from Nobleman Orsha) 'Tis early morn and peaceful are the fields. Thick fog, a fleecy arras silver-trimmed Above the Dnieper hangs. And through its mists upon the rugged bank The trees gaze on themselves within the waves. Beyond the forest sails a group of clouds. And far, like fire, appears the ruddy dawn. THE GATES OF THE CAUCASUS (Rendering from The Demon) And the exile from Paradise over the Caucasus flew. Under him Kasbek flashed white with eternal snow. Cut like a diamond's edge. And like an abyss deep and black, The reptiles' cavernous home. Gleamed the meandering Daryal. Like a lion Terek leaped. His thick-massed mane on his back. And plunging and bounding roared. While the mountain, beast, and the bird. Up, up in the azure heights. His voice, like the thunder, heard. And violet clouds from the South Follow him far to the North, RENDERINGS FROM THE RUSSIAN 165 As the peaks embracing him. Full of mysterious dreams, Bend low their sleepy heads To watch his glittering waves, Their lofty, haggard brows Piercing the tattered fog, Gigantic sentinels grim. The Gates of the Caucasus. EGYPT THE NILE Once in Memory's misty realm I saw the tawny Nile And that far azure line that cuts the desert's brink. Whence crept the Libyan sands Close to the river's edge To drink and drink and drink, And clothe themselves in green. And I? Alas for memory! Listening I heard a plaintive chant. As though the river sang: "H^ail to thee, Osiris, Hail to thee, Osiris, Each day is Ammon with thee. Hail to thee, Osiris ! Thou seest with thine eyes ; Thou hearest with thine ears; Thy soul is made divine in heaven; Thyself thou canst transform; Joy of the Persea-tree in On, Hail to thee, Osiris !" * • At the burial of the dead, the departed soul if justified by Osiris, was always addressed as Osiris, probably because It was believed that he had become a creative unit of energy, or the ultimate power and had conquered In death the malignant principle, or the opposite of Osiris, called by the Egyptians Set or Typhon. This chant In the poem, "Hall to thee, Osiris," is taken from one of the sacred boolis of Egypt. 166 EGYPT 167 And calmly looking down I saw a dead man's face. "Hail! hail!" I also sang, "Hail to thee, Osiris !" How like a snake the river moved. How like a serpent I ! How musical and lithe the reeds. How gaunt the sycamores; — "Hail to thee, Osiris!" O man! Osiris dead! And I alive. Aflame with motion. Clear of eye, a thing of power. While close art thou to earth. Inert, cold, rigid. Sunken down before thy grave is dug. Sucked toward thy mother's heart. How scornfully I spurn the sod. How airy, how far off, how high My fancy roves ! My eyes see heaven where stars are sown. My ears discern soft, soughing sounds Which float in breezes off the Nile. But thou? Thine eyes are set. Thine ears are stopped. "Hail to thee, Osiris !" Here Libya lies in never ceasing trance; Bedecked with countless gems 168 DREAMS OF HELLAS It stretches outward toward the sky A swooning ecstasy that cannot die ; But thrilled with rhythmic, surging life, The epic-singing Nile rolls on, Though ruins hug its curving banks. And Age rots slowly in its tombs. Though Karnak casts a mummied spell Across the hoary land of Khem, And Thebes lies drugged beneath the sky. What, what, alluring Nile, tell me ! what is death ? Then to my soul the river sang: "The bittern booms Amid the tombs. The raven cries When mortal dies. But cheated of his prey Great Typhon sighs and sighs. Earth unto earth — Behold Osiris rise!" "Hail to thee, Osiris! Escaped hast thou thy prison; The soul of man hath risen. Hail to thee, Osiris!" 1 said, "Thou sinuous, subtle stream Alive amid the dead, O Nile, the mystic's dream, Where hath Osiris fled?" EGYPT 169 And as I spake I gazed again Upon the dead man's face, While sang once more The flowing Nile: "Hail to thee, Osiris, Joy to the Persea-tree in On, The immortal soul is God and One, Hail ! Hail to thee, Osiris !" A TALE OF KHEM As India produced a Gautama, and Syria a Jesus, it would seem that Egypt must have flowered in another than the imagined Hermes Trismegistus. The history of Egypt dates only from its decline, and yet it brought over with it from a palmy -age a tenet of immortality, implying a teacher and a school of thought unwritten in hieroglyphics. Egypt, mysterious. Embalmed, and yet with eyes That from their sockets gaze As if a deathless soul were dwelling there, O tell me ! art thou dead ? Do I forget thee, Nile, Where dreams are lost in dreams. And moons have drowned themselves in thee. Where suns with passion kiss thy breast. And stars smile down at stars — do I forget? Some mystic impulse felt by thee Impelled me far where records fail. Ere Memnon's statue spoke at Thebes Or Isis wore the mocking veil. 170 EGYPT 171 I stood beside the pyramid. And where the tombs of Gizeh rise I conjured time whose tragic eyes Gazed into mine. Erect and coming nearer, near. Majestic, bmnan, cameo-clear I saw the ancient Khem of Khem, And then to me, as flowers mifold, The tale of Egypt there was told. His voice like echoes sighed and sung; His words were pearls as yet unstrung ; A shade, a man, he showed in part The secret splendors of his heart. "As Buddha caiiie the truth to teach," he said, "As Jesus rose celestial from the dead. As Mecca held Mohammed's shrine, So here to weave his spell divine The son of Khem once wandering, lone. Through teaching made this land his own." And then the unwrit past, nor scrip nor scroll. Was etched and stabbed into my soul: "I lived beside a stream Where sycamores and palms Threw shadows over rustling reeds That 'mid its ripples bathed their lives away. Along the river bank strange birds Stalked 'mid the waving grass In that lone time when lotus throve And Isis sat apart and nursed her child. 172 DREAMS OF HELLAS I was a poet and I -wandered there Deep breathing the enchanted air, While gazing with young, ardent eyes On cloudless, vast, mysterious skies. Though far extended, ne'er begun. An opal setting for the dazzling sun. "With lotus blooms I wooed the moon, I whispered with the Cyprus leaves. And kissed the hand of Isis As she hurried by. Dim nights ! Fair nights ! Come back and bring again Your virgin spell. When all was passion, passionless. And in my heart the germ of love slept on. And as I dreamed, upon mine ears there fell The music of the spaces far. Faint whisperings passed from star to star. And soimd of trembling ethers Where the mystics are. Yet this was but the flow of life; The ebb, alas, was near ! Egyptian nights. When from the haunts of Horror Crept Despair and Fear. "And on my heart — ^upon my startled heart There fell the woe of Earth, The pain of mothers at their infants' birth, Their sorrow when they die. EGYPT 173 The eyes of frightened children peering out 'Neath dripping lashes at the world. The puzzled mind of youth. Strong men who wrestled restlessly, Sweet tenderness rebuffed. And kisses met with blows. And then I wrenched the stern- jawed tomb apart And prayed the gods to strike me dead. Dost thou know love and passion. Mighty as a torrent by the sun excited, By the moon impelled? Knowest thou its mystery, its terror. And its rapture? "When the night of Egypt Kissed the lips of morning. When the Nile rolled inland. When the embers smouldering in the ashes Burst to flame, I looked into the glorious eyes of Isis, Caught the frenzy of Osiris, Felt the warm desire of heaven. Trembled with the quivering earth. Then, then, I loved. "Alas, a god goes straying forth To woo a mortal woman; He seeks a star amid the blue. The land beside the sea, A tree upon the sands. And so he lights as daintily 174 DREAMS OF HELLAS As does a feather By the river, 'mid green grasses, Coaxes woman's eyes to waking. Kisses woman's lips to singing. This and more, when a god Comes straying over earth. When man ascends to distant heaven. Begging love of an Immortal, Scaling heights in golden sandals, Winging flights with flaming pinions. He storms the very gates of Bliss, To wed the sacred muse in her." And then in rhapsody the Ancient sang : "O Love, I see thee yet, and ever shall. When singing blends with singing, 'Mid the sycamores and palms. When music floats to music. In the ripples of the Nile! Love, I see thee yet When rise the mists of morning From lilies on the stream. When fall the dews of evening On the sorrow-stricken reeds ! 1 remember all the glory of thy hair ; Like shadows on the sunlight, night on the noon. Was the glory of thy hair. I remember all the glamour of thine eyes. All the splendor of their blackness. All the magic of their flashing into mine. Even yet, though the ages EGYPT 175 Are sepulchred or buried, though temples have arisen On the ruined site of tombs, Even yet they flash into mine. "Something misty and uncertain, Revealing, unrevealed. Ever blending, ever ending Was our love. She retreated to advance. Averted, yet her glance met my own, I felt her arms about me, Though she lived amid the stars, I knew her burning kisses. Though I dwelt all alone." The Ancient paused with head bent low, Then suddenly addressed the night long gone. Which once had been so bitter And again so sweet; Invoked it as he oft had done In other days: "Come ye Shades that walk abroad at night ! The Sim went down long hours ago. My heart was hot from basking in the light. I wait — O come ! Sweet Love, arise and gaze with me into the moon ! Sweet Love, art thou still weaving dreams? Come, O thou dearest, . Who left me when the sunlight shone! Come, O thou nearest! For I am sad, alone. 176 DREAMS OF HELLAS "Roll back thy curtain, awful Night ! Unveil still other stars! Then 'mid thy splendors may I roam. And hear the voice of Earth Whose breath comes fast. Ah, passion sweet! The shade of Love has wandered near And our lips meet. "Dim Night, indefinite, uncertain Night, Stay but the coming of the day one hour! Veil it with clouds, black like thyself. Enshroud the Dawn in mourning for the dead. Keep back the sun, and bid the moon To gleam still longer in the arch o'erhead That I may know the secret of thy heart. O stay the onward march of the approaching day Till she, my Love, doth come I" Then turned great Khem And looked into mine eyes and spake again: "Ah! once in that remembered time My life was ecstasy. But ere she sought the river bank and died She bore a child, and prophesied: 'A paradox, his hour is near; Thy son shall be the uncrowned seer.' " Osiris shudders; Isis trembles. Where, O where 'mid wilds of Egjrpt Strayed the Teacher, sang the Singer ? EGYPT 177 The Nile rolls on and tells no tale. The desert bears a sphinx upon its breast. And skies above are blank and dumb. Then towering in full majesty. This lofty phantom Formed from mist impalpable. The ancient Khem, Addressed the Libyan Sphinx: "Shall man succumb to thy weird eyes? Humanity, triumphant, knows no sphinx Save unsolved Law. Behold a paradox: The Mystic ignores mystery. Before thy symbol rose on Libyan sands. Ere Hellas caught the meaning of thy spell. Another Edipus had dared thy glance, Supreme, magnificent above thy head. No rival hath he 'neath the sun aiid moon." I watched this mighty Shade, as thus he stood Against the background of the blue, . Where Libya spread far out to meet the sky. "O thou," I said, "who conquerest rhythm itself and time. Interpret to my wondering mind thy speech." "Learn lessons from revolving stars," he sighed, "From waves along the ocean strand. From shifting seasons in their flight. From fire in wake of ice, and ice in trail of fire." And then a smile like sunlight Flashed athwart his face. 178 DREAMS OF HELLAS "Unless with Ammon thou art wed, death eonquer- eth thee. If it thou knowest. Time will speed thee by Like flock of birds across the blue, And leave no mark upon the sky. Our gods seem many„ but are One, Creation uncreated, proof unproved. Sin sinless, this knows he Who learns the truth of Khem." "But tell me of the Flower, thy son,'' said I, "How lived he? Was he doomed to die?" "On others' wings thou canst not rise. By others' lives thou livest not. The Nameless did himself disguise, Lest in the Singer were the song forgot. In tremolos the dewdrop falls on lotus leaves. So falls his love upon the heart that grieves. "O eyes, that wandered restfuUy From star to star. Deep eyes, simlit and calm; How soft their look when they on Egypt gazed! "Mysterious, restless Nile, flow on. And murmuring, breathe of Him. Where rushes grow and reeds are wet. His echoing words are whispered yet. EGYPT 179 "I remember that fair heaven whence he came, A world of hallowed rapture, and its name Lingers still half-forgotten like the gleam Of moon-enchanted lilies on the stream. "In His heart he carried with him all the bliss. And the sweetness, of His mother, when her kiss Thrilled like wine, and the story softly told In a life did then unfold. It was mine! "Yet sunlight 'neath the cypress weds the dark; For the loved, the lost, the longing, sings the lark. My son had heard the bittern's tragic cry; For Egypt did he live, for Egypt did he die. "Sweet Paradise! It hangs imconscious over hell Like floating garden, reckless, green Above the Stygian wave. "Sad Paradise! The poet's eyelids gravely droop. To veil from glamour of the stars. While music, sad with melody, weeps on. "Where art thou. Rapture? Eyes, thine own, I see above the precipice When danger hovers near, A whirr of wings, a rainbow gleam. And thou hast vanished like a dream. Sweet Paradise! 180 DREAMS OF HELLAS "A teacher, he forgot to teach; A lover, he forgot to love; Inconstant is mankind, and why? Defame the temple, and the dove wOl fly. "Behold my Son, a white-limbed slave Who fights for liberty ! The arena stretches toward a distant '-y. The gleaming stars look on. Himself his enemy. Yet one by one his chains he wrenches off; Then glows the moon with fire. Earth trembles. Constellations flash, 'Tis victory. "And didst thou ask me how he died? It was alone as falls the stag. Bewildered, staring with large eyes at man. As poets die who sing their songs too soon. My son! My son!" Then turned the ghost of Khem Unto the site of Memphis solemnly: "Thou mausoleum of the dead. Earth's center, Mem- phis! With thy huge stones, great Cairo sports; Is this stupendous wreck But sign of Egypt's fall? Or dost thou dream, O man Who wanders melancholy midst these graves. EGYPT 181 That all these buried treasures Point to Egypt's prime? Priest of Amakis, knowest thou this pile is young When measured by the flight of years Above the ruLas of the past? — That Kephren is a puny child Of a once splendid art That flourished in an age When thou didst sleep? Seest thou these pyramids, Cemented stone to stone with blood? Ahj Egypt had grown hoary in her crimes When these her monster monuments were reared ! "Though man hath foimd the Nile's mysterious source. Doth he yet know the spring Whence gushed Egyptian life. That long forgotten spring Concealed beneath the debris of the past? Dig up the sands of Africa. Bring scholars from afar By science labeled. Conjure ghosts of Thebes, And call the gods, aye God, To point thee whence great Egypt sprang! Peer down the centuries. And as thou gazest hear the voice That comes from far Where lips alive still speak! Awaking to the moon. 182 DREAMS OF HELLAS The lotus trembling sighs, A nation buds to bloom. And blooming dies; Yet from its grave behold a phantom rise That chants in echoes still." I lifted up mine eyes. Which, as the Ancient spake, I reverently had closed. And scanning Libyan vastness at a glance, I found myself alone — Beside the Pyramid. CIRCE— MYSTERY IN THREE PARTS THE SEA THE DESERT THE MOUNTAIN To Alma CIRCE— MY APOLOGY I am well aware that the world's conception of Circe is quite tmlike my own; nevertheless, basing on the myth, I have conceived of a far different motif as the initiative of her acts from that ascribed to her by the general public. Though a goddess in a sense, she roams over earth in the form of woman and is found here and there imder a guise entirely her own and never to be mistaken for that of the majority of mothers, sweethearts, sisters and wives that go to make up a part of the human race. Her unique, subtle, almost unbearable charm is caused by the fire celestial, rather than earthly flame. She turns men into swine by her dangerous fascination, which in her own soul is simply ideal aspiration. She is seeking "the lost" — ^her other self — and in the search is often misled by the light of men's eyes, imagining each lover the divine aflSnity that constantly eludes her. The Ulysses of her soul, whom she would carry with her to the high place of her dreams, not having sailed to her across seas through storm and danger, she waits and watches, irresponsible for the utter temptation which her alluring attitude presents, unconscious of the beasts 185 186 DREAMS OF HELLAS she has made of men, till the bitter truth bursts upon her. In ideal, intense being, the parado-ai is inevitable, Jind Circe by her celestial fervor presents to the eyes of animal man the effect of a siren. She becomes a veritable Scylla to wreck and degrade him. Her far- glancing eyes, straining over seas for the sight of the dim sail of Ulysses, are misconstrued into those of a courtesan. Such is the Circe of my dream. CIRCE Words! Words! Words! Come like the rush of the birds. Come and express the passion, the stress Of my heart! Cease to conceal, but clearly reveal The subtle ideal, the perilous real. Like fireflies thrilling in flight, Unalarmed at the clutch of the night! Words ! Words ! Words ! Spiders that yearn as they spin. That catch and entangle and win The singer, the listener, the song! Muse of my soul, I crave in thy name The language of danger and flame ! 187 PART I THE SEA— ACTION Perchance upon our senses steal The plaint and shudder of the world, A fugue in tremolo. We feel Its vast crescendos onward whirled To faint at last in vaulted air. Enshrouded, shriven by despair. Where echoes, humming, dream and play Mid flame and cloud of dying day. Waves of quivering ether, space unending. Skies above the haze of skies extending. Oceans into dimmer oceans blending. Waste of air and water, seeming two. But wed by distance, blue on blue. Upheaving monsters of the unsolved deep. That lap with foamy tongues the curving shore. Green dragons flashing as you coil and leap, To dive again with sullen hiss and roar, With you, O Sea, we mount to rhythm's flow. Ere down into the ebb of life we go! 188 CIRCE 189 CIRCE AND ACTiEON At Circe's feet sat Actaeon, And gazed bewildered in her magic eyes Along the mazy labyrinth That led unto the try sting place of love. Ahj Circe's glance ! And when she smiled — When Circe smiled — Alas, when Circe smiled ! No gross desire had surged as yet Like ruddy wine through Actaeon's blood, He asked no other bliss than this. To touch the hem of Circe's robe. "Loved Siren, whence your charm?" he plead, "I fain from you would fly, yet here am I." She glanced afar, through balmy space afar, And gazing smiled, and smiling softly sighed. Behind a cloud there sailed a fading star, A Zephyr drooped its wings and died. "Brave Actaeon, leave me ere it be too late. Go forth and dare the shafts of fate !" "Alas, and still I stay! Enough for me to breathe this tropic air. To watch the fires resplendent in your eyes. To revel in the tangle of your hair. Alas, and still I stay I" 190 DEEAMS OF HELLAS "Lo, women like rich mushrooms spring," she said, "From earth, clean, luscious and to spare; Why worship me with mingled bliss and dread? The world's alive with women everywhere." "You snare me with your tawny braids Till willing prey am I; A chain about me you have wound. As strong as destiny. By jewel glances of your eyes Transfixed am I with ecstasy. Dear love, mysterious love !" "Am I, O Action, Fate disguised?" "You seem forever young; Your speech means centuries. Your face in years a score; A Phoenix, Circe, do you rise From glowing ash that never dies, A mystic wonder and surprise !" "My father is the burning Sim," she said, "Speak not of age to me; Immortals live, the old are dead, And youth alone is free." "Your smile of mystery — Fair Circe, history Is writ upon your face, A legend for its theme. CIRCE 191 The lore of some great race Its paradox^ its dream. You conjure melody from far; I hear the plaint of Zephyr — ^then The singing of a love-mad star — Sweet Circe^ smile again !" "Unreasoning Actaeon, Tell your chief desire! What fans your smouldering flames to fire?" "O Circe! You!" "Apart from me, what love you best?" "My native land." "Has it a soul? Do you revere its peaks and vales. Its orchards and its streams?" "Lay bare the heart of pain. The spirit of the law ; And I will tell you then. What love of country means." "Impassioned fool, you have a foe! Go challenge him! O go, O go! 'Tis ecstasy, 'tis bliss to die! Ye gods above, if only I Were mortal too!" she sighed. "Your land is but yourself grown great. Within you are its streams and vales. 192 DEEAMS OF HELLAS Its trees and mountain crest. Its rulers and its laws of state. Its North, its South, its East and West. Within you are its calm and gales ; In you its peoples' heart and dreams; In you its stars and soft moonbeams; In you its joy, in you its woe. Go serve yourself, and kill your foe !" "But Circe! " "What deadly charm have I That you should hold my sight More dear than honor's crown? Could I behold you in your might But strike your victim down. Or could I see you cold and prone Where vultures wheel and dive. Your dead face stern and fixed and lone. Though I were yet alive; Or would you now but say Adieu; Then should I love, and love but you!" "O, Circe, have you loved?" "Loved ! ActaBon, — loved ! A fair enchantress I, so prates the world. By all mankind condemned. A harlot clad in red! A sorceress, a wily snake Entwining the limp limbs of men And kissing their warm mouths CIRCE 193 With poisoned lips. Loved ! Actaeon, — loved ! Could Circe love? Immortal^ I the mortal seek^ My other half, the fallen man. What value has eternity Without its erring mate in time? What reason for infinity If finite failure is not there? What charm has immortality Unless it knows despair?" She raised a sea-shell from the waves And listened to its haunting strain. "O hark! It sings of mystery — again and yet again — Circe misunderstood; Of vestal purity, the good. Of beauty fleeing from desire. No tender wind-swept lyre Is keyed to such high destiny. Ah, Music of Eternity! The deep-sea heart within this shell Is sighing for the loved-lost wonder That descending into hell Then soared aloft to voice of thunder. As virgin moons majestic rise Aloof and regal to the skies. "O sad, sad heart in this pink shell ! Tried heart of all the tragic seas ! 194 DREAMS OF HELLAS Like me you seek the Lost. 'Tis well! Among these mortals, on his knees, Perchance my other self I'll find. My other self — for Love is kind. Can it be true that vestal glow Is flame too bright for profane eyes ? And is it right of gods alone To watch the fires of Paradise? "I, Circe, stranded here Like this sad-singing shell. And harking to the gods with fear. And gazing far from heaven to hell Have stumbled on a man, and see Perchance a beast — perchance divinity. "Like all immortals humanized I'm innocent, unwise, disguised And lost in woe and ecstasy. I pray to heaven; in cold disdain It flashes fire upon my pain. I hug the earth and kiss the sod And plead with Nature for its God, But only weeds spring up and grow To wrap me in a shroud of woe. O ask me not if I have loved!" Paler than lilies Grew young Actaeon's face. "Perchance in me you'll find," he said, "The mortal self you love and dread." CIRCE 195 "In you? Give me a sign!" "A sign! Love's sign is passion. His colors white and red. His gems, blood-rubies pilfered from the dead. His pass-word is 'Surrender.' Again, again, again The flag of truce he scorns, nor waits. But fiercely holds and subjugates. A glutton tasting, he devours And plucks the bud before it flowers. Love loves himself, through all Love's hours !" "Ye gods !" she wrung her hands and cried, "If, Actseon, you have told the truth. Love is a brute, undeified, And Cupid but a fabled youth. Ha, Ha ! And I have thought of love As heaven-aspiring like the dove. Is earth on high, the sky below? Can rivers to their sources flow? Do human beings walk on air And stalk their victims everywhere? Are birds struck dumb that long to sing? Does beast four-footed sprout a wing? Of mortal and Immortal wed. Which is the living, which the dead? Your ship's a stranded wreck," she sighed, "Your trireme bruised and danger tried. Yourself sea-battered seeking wine That burns your lips, alas ! and mine. 196 DREAMS OF HELLAS Your passion quenches that soft fire That flashed in many-hued desire When once you proudly onward bore From mountain pass to ocean shore The flag, the sword, the shield — ^Ah me ! Can you not see that banner yet Afloat from yonder parapet? Can you not see? Can you not see The flames of burnished copper there, The metaled sun, sunk in despair, The splendor of that fine-tipped spear, Translucent as a lake and clear. The edge, the keenness, gleam and glare Of that unbuckled sword, the flare Of knife and cutlass ? Can you hear The solemn beat of drums, the sheer, The sharp shrill shrieks, the awful groans Of human throats, the sobs, the moans ? O can you hear and can you see Your life; your fate, yet think of me?" He looked upon her rapt and dazed; Deep in her stormy eyes he gazed; Then far in fancy's distant seas Beheld again upon the breeze The signal of himself a part. The unfurled ensign of his heart. But back he flew; his hope was dead; For lo, his vestal love had fled. "Circe! Circe! Where art thou?" The sullen waves moaned on the shore. CIRCE 197 Sepulchral thunder, nothing more. "Circe! Circe! Where art thou?" He strove to rend the mist in twain In frenzy calling, yet in vain, "Circe! Circe! Where art thou?" * * * Hid by the arras of the haze She lay upon a jagged stone. And iNature in her tender ways Brought comfort to herself alone. With love she clung to Circe there. With soothing fingers combed her hair. And on her lips she pressed the kiss Of mingled misery and bliss. O Circean sea ! Sea of intensity ! Deep with the depths of drear immensity ! Deep to the realms of dumbness and desire Where sound is not and Siren's shell and lyre Are deadly mute ! Sea of unfathomed mystery, Attuned to poignant thrills of pain, Potential with primeval ecstasy. Sea of the Circean heart! Again Your surging billows storm and rise To greet the stars, the moon, the skies; And on voluptuous summer days. Empyrean blest your gems ablaze, You call and call Urania's dove. In far mid-air awaiting love. PART II THE DESERT— NANA Far gleaming, farther, farther on The desert stretches. Upon its bosom here and there An emerald flashes. And where it steals into the blue The topaz pierces through. How it glitters, glitters, glitters ! Scintillating rays That dazzle human eyes. How it scatters fire that reaches Even up to amorous skies ! Thou scorner of all life Save what is bred by thee, Immensity of rank desire That boldly dares to be. Gigantic Sphinx! That filches jewels from the sun. And steals the white milk of the moon. What kisses thou dost give! 198 CIRCE 199 And what fierce joy of heat and space Is granted him who gazes on thy face. Fair Circe singing Sat beneath the boughs of brooding trees Near to the desert's trysting place, With verdant soil. The perfumed breeze With wings aquiver cooled and fanned The grasses of this tropic land. "O longing soul, grieve thou no more ! Life surges to the flow, The tide is high, Hope will not go. O longing soul, grieve thou no more ! Forget thy tragedies and fears. Thy weary waiting and thy tears; Forget thine agony of years. Grieve thou no more !" And as she sang The boughs were softly parted As if by muses tender-hearted. And in his priestly robe and youth Stood Nana, harbinger of truth. "Why wait I wistfully," she said, "Beneath this sheltering tree? 'Twere far more seemly had you watched. And sighing, longed for me. 200 DREAMS OF HELLAS "Behold the jnoon! A dead globe desert-born. Soft glare of borrowed fire. The progeny this waste brings forth Is free from all desire." Said he regretfully, "I would that I some progeny might bear Full worthy of my vows; This arid desert fiUs my heart with shame That I, forbidden, give the world Naught save an honored name." "Most surely from the East are you," Sighed Circe tenderly, "And Orient-born are passion-true. Pray tell me, for I deem you wise, Why all your vows you sacrifice?" "What fatal glamour Has this waste," he said; "This Sphinx with heart of fire. This heat conceived in ice. This frenzy's calm. This love's disdain. This sorrow's ecstasy.? If you were not a sorceress, A riddle which yourself must solve. Then would I wander in the temple aisle And in a scroll of vellum lose your smile. Forgetting all save sanctity and lore I'd dream and dream of you no more." CIRCE 201 Then Circe's eyes filled full with tears, Her dark, unf athomed, haunting eyes ! She gazed through sorrow's mist of years Far out upon the glittering seas Of desert's sand. "O golden Orient! Fair country of my dreams Where sound and color blend, A rhapsody of incense-breathing form, A paradise of tombs, golden Orient! 1 long to blend with thee And scale thy soaring hills Or bask beneath thy flaming sun. "To-night the moon full-orbed and bright Is shining in this arc of blue. And turns to phantasy thy temples and tliy mosques, While snow-white palaces sail vaguely on the clouds Or sink to sombre depths of mystery. Fair land, whose perfume-laden air Intoxicates my raptured sense, I love thee with a passion bred of grief. In dimness floating to the music of the tides Thou camest on my soul a dream of ecstasy. O golden Orient! My heart is sick for thee. Must I a stranger roam again And view tixy mountain peaks from far In sorrow's realm of memory?" 202 DREAMS OF HELLAS She bowed her head upon her knees And sat in silence, while the breeze Sang hymns of woe amid the trees. "Sweet Circe, sigh no more," Plead Nana tenderly; "My country is your home. My heart your resting place. What claims have I to priestly vows? Have you not splendor in your eyes? "I thought this day that I mayhap Could tear myself away And fold about me once again The robes of sanctity; But now, divinity begone! This gem of mine, honor. Toss I in your lap. A jewel dearer than my very eye. It sparkles like Orion in the blue; I scorn it now for you. "This power of intellect With which I conquer mystery, Explain the imexplained And shatter trembling creeds. Or grapple with the riddles of the East, This proud ambition which can rise Above cold reason's peak To that volcanic crest of fire. The soul's white heat, All, all to you I give. CIRCE 263 "I spurn my vows, my creed, my fame. Compared with you I hold them worthless as the muddy pool To one who longs for wine. Fair Circe, set the seal Of your red lips on mine. And all my heart is ever thine !" "And after that?" she said. "If you could give me more. Together we would steal Far from this desert sea and verdant shore Into some mountain fastness near the sky Where spring the limpid drops Which gather in their flow The very dregs of India's woe. Alone in that celestial air Our lives would purer grow In temples of resisting ice Entombed in virgin snow. And O, to rest upon your beating heart, Absorb the mystery of your eyes. And taste the nectar of your Ups — 'Twere very bliss of woe!" He towered above the sheen of desert sands In rapture's majesty. In mad abandon of desire. That he might taste of mortal ecstasy, His pearl of immortality he threw At Circe's feet. 204 DREAMS OF HELLAS His classic face with roses all aglow That sprung from his voluptuous blood. His eyes ablaze with passion's flame Appalled and captured Circe's heart And drew her to his side As earth's most central fire Draws all its life down to itself. She listens — then admires, adores, Alas ! she fain would yield. When like the water to the flame A chill of cold suspicion steals Across her burning soul. Recoiling as one stung by asp Beneath the velvet leaves Of some voluptuous plant. She draws her trailing robe About her limbs And folds her arms across her breast; Then lifting high her head. Speaks words that cut like gleaming knives Clean through his panoply of sense Straight to his naked soul! "Your honor, fame and intellect Have you renounced? Pray would you die upon my breast While drinking carnal poison from my lips ? A God are you among mankind, A Master heaven-sent. Ordained to re-create the world CIRCE 205 And leave within the archives of the years The essence of your thought; But like a swine you are. And I, alas ! have been the cause. Ah, I had longed to come to you As steals a zephyr to a burning brow! To you would I have been the moon That guides the traveller on his way. The star, the very sun! To you would I have been the voice Heard through the din of sound Like haunting bells that ring afar. To you the dream of dreams. But if myself I sully for your sake My love will perish in your mad embrace As in a hot simoon the wanderer dies." She paused; A prayer was on her lips, A supplication in her eyes ; But he, as if some living thing Had turned at once to stone Or molten mass to ice. Stood rigid, deaf, a fiend! Then suddenly in imprecation spoke. His voice an echo from some nether world. So far away it seemed. "I kneel to you no more! A freezing liquid courses through my veins; My nerves are silver cords. 206 DREAMS OF HELLAS My muscles tempered steel. I loved you, aye, and hated too, But heaven and bell are blotted out. smile, and smile again ! Beam over me with lustrous eyes ! Caress me with your finger tips. Or clasp me in your pliant arms ! Sing in my ears — Sing, sing Unto my very soul ! But what care I ? Forever are you cursed! Doomed to virginity, of love you make a lie ! Stripped of my majesty. With beasts I'll herd — With beasts I'll die!" An instant with her eyes on his. Defiant Circe stood. Enfolded in white light Then spoke in voice as vibrant As a wind-swept harp Struck by harsh fingers in the gloom: "Circe am I, who changes men' to swine ! Great God above, can I transform A thing divine ? What slimy trail is that Which creeps from you away And vanishes in mist? 1 thought that I had found a god, When from your eyes there peered the beast. Go — go! I make no self-defense. CIRCE 207 And pitiless, lio pity ask. Go! Suffer what I too shall bear! Get down to earth and kiss the clodj You, whom I thought a man — a god! "White peaks of Himala, farewell! And thou, blue dome, Where all thy fires are suns And all thy suns transcendent stars ! Farewell ye streams of India! And Cashmere's verdant vale, • And thou, great desert. With thy jewelled breast. Thy million diamonds Scintillating flame. To thee I bid adieu! Ye gods that comfort hearts of men. What consolation bring you now? I call upon you! Come, And on my longing lips one drop Of your narcotic pour. Or plunge me deep beneath the waves Of Lethe's sluggish stream. And to my tortured soul Send you the balm of sleep once more!" She waited while her upraised glance Searched longingly the vast expanse. Then turning to the earth below She cursed her body that had bred such woe: 208 DEEAMS OF HELLAS "On these bright eyes of mine May blindness steal, And may the bane of deafness Strike mine ears. And these enticing braids Be blasted as with touch of years ! Nor would I smile Nor walk erect. But bent and crippled be Till God shall end this misery !" PART III THE MOUNTAIN— LEON Asceadingj rugged, scarped in limpid air, Like Ida, this hoar summit seeks the light. And flings to man a challenge here and there To dare its awful height; Like Ida, bearing Zeus upon its breast. Who brooding groans in thunder Till the mountain's crest Has shocked grim earth to wonder At flash of deadly eyes That glance o'er Thessaly and rise To scorn the stars; like Ida here This god-like peak, intrepid, sheer. Has thrust itself aloft, sublime and drear. A comrade of the Moon art thou. Wedded to lunar charm! The bans are published, and the vow. She nestles in thine arm. Caressing thy large virUe head. While on thy breast her prayer is said. One other ! This Moon-soul of thine Has bred a singer, young, divine, 209 210 DREAMS OF HELLAS Who like Minerva climbs thy sides And with thy love and thee abides. He bathes himself in Imiar light As on thy crest he rests at nighty And paints his words on fragrant air With color's magic everywhere. An Eden midst the crags he sees, A temple 'mong the storm-tossed trees. Within his tender, fleeing notes A soul, complaining, strives to break The spell of music as it floats Adrift with griefs which softly make Harmonics, like the plaintive lute That wailing tenderly stops mute And waits the echo of its strain In dread that it may sigh again. Immortal are the gods and great; But he whose tones are big with fate The knees of Zeus one time embraced And stroked his chin, then boldly faced His scowling eyes and sang his song That deathless through the space along Hums on mid azures of the sky. Hums on and on, and does not die. While birds, enravished, beat their wings In harmony with that which sings. And Zeus, entranced, is listening yet To music he would fain forget. Barbaric! Aye, barbaric, rare These mystic tones of lucid air. CIRCE 211 Initial in their greed of sounds Like Nature in the matrix found, A wild tattoo of drums that thrill The dancing goblins of the hUl, Clear trumpet throats upon the height That lure and charm the soul of night. A soft, ■wind-fingered phantom lyre Sings to the mountain's heart of fire. Sweet viols and thin reeds love-lorn Cry out for life and light and dawn, Faint echoes, like a tale half told, A child's far whimper in the cold, The call of ghosts and ghouls, the drear Dank voice of wind and rain and fear. Barbaric ! Aye, and fierce and clear Intrinsic Nature lives again In these high tones of limpid air. The poet's rapture and despair. 'Twas dawn. A wild bird scattered pearls of foam As forth he flew the waste to roam. Till wed to clouds as white as he, He saw no more the surging sea. O Morning! Crowned with gems of pink and dusk. Beholding earth with blue-black sinless eyes, O Morning! redolent with rose and musk, Bewitched with youth that never dies ! Bridesmaid of Night and Day that marry where The Sun has kissed the Dark's long hair. gig DREAMS OF HELLAS Departing with the dallying star, O Dawn! thou still art not so far But that to-morrow thou wilt come once more To ravish hill and vale and shore ! From dawn till in the zenith shone the sun Young Leon searched for his loved Muse, the one Fair ideal of his hope,, the fire Of his impassioned strong desire, And wandering sang: "O Muse, show me thy face! To gaze but once into thine eyes Were essence of a burning bliss. I ask no greater joy than this. To gaze but once into thine eyes !" "And O, to hear but once thy voice ! The music it reveals in dreams. Where myriad-tinted beauty gleams, To hear but once thy voice!" "And O, to touch but once thy lips ! The perfect flower one instant mine. Eternal life were then divine — To touch but once thy lips !" " 'Twas only yesterday," young Leon said, "And when the sun was mounting high I met a priestess as she wandered by ; CIECE 213 And she was veiled. I've never seen before A garb so strange as that she wore." When in their witches' webs the spiders swarm, When lizards seek the sheltering rocks at noon. When plants droop lazily and hum and sigh^ And Earth in stupor seems about to die. He sought her lonely home and found her there. Fearless of light and sun in open air. "Why have you come?" she asked, "I dwell apart. Communing with my own sad heart. For me, alas ! mankind is not. By aU the world am I forgot." "Are you an oracle ?" he plead, — "a seer ? And can you riddles read and mysteries clear? You veil your features, which I cannot see, I pray you, flash their light on me ! A dreamer am I of true dreams and deep, A goddess comes to me in sleep. When I awake she steals away. If I might view her by the light of day. Like incense would my songs arise From magic memory of her eyes." "Is there no means by which to tell Who she may be that weaves this spell?" "At night," he answered, "when my soul is free. At night she smiles and broods o'er me. 214 DEEAMS OF HELLAS I know her longing and despair. Her reason^ rapture — shall I dare My burning heart lay bare to you And beg this boon, herself to view?" "Speak on!" she sighed. "By that strange gift akin to instinct of the birds, The weal it is of singers,, without words To feel, to see, to hear through naked soul; Upon creation's verge my love would find its goal! Since first I saw the stars above And greeted the forsaken moon. From far-off altitudes unknown Have floated magic notes of love. And vital pictures, color-burned, I've caught and held, like doves returned. The ravishment of amorous flowers. The droon and hum of busy bees. The chant of pines hard-beat with showers. The moans and groans of straining seas. The stress of pinioned winds and gales. The on-rush, the despair, the waUs Of tempests that a truce refuse — All these, incarnate, are my Muse, Who, seeing, I have yet not seen. And hearing, I have yet not heard. O tell me, woman, priestess, queen. If from her lips one kiss, one word May fall on me. Speak! Where, O where. Is she, the answer to my prayer?" CIRCE 215 "What if a curse is on her life," she said, "Her beauty withered by the touch of Pan, Her fatal charm extinguished, dead, The fire blown out by breath of man ! Love cruel may have pierced her heart. Rejected, wrecked her throbbing brain. The charms of woman soon depart; Why think you that from grief and strain Forth she shall come, unspoiled again? Still dazzling with Uranian fire. Time mocking and all vain desire. Her smiles alive, despising age, Head held erect, with eyes of rage. Or joy, outlooking space. The stellar flames, defying race, A soul alive with storm and bliss — O tell me, friend, how know you this?" "A soldier once and now deplored Her garments' very hem adored; Perchance she wrapped his body round And passion's subtle witchery found. A priest debased his ardent soul And drank the lees of dark despair. With her in hell he sought his goal — How know you but she's with him there? "By dower of her humanity She should be old and worn and bent, Her strength, her vanity By savage time entirely spent. 216 DREAMS OF HELLAS Her voice the rough, virago breeze Which croaks and mumbles mid the trees. Her eyes alone betraying fire That tells the tale of her desire. "O bard divine, may she refuse! Ask not, ask not, to view your Muse, Lest in the vision music fly And all the charm of genius die !" "Then grief be mine," he said, "Loved beauty dumb and music dead! Then perish all the gods above If from me flies my Muse, my Love ! If her mysterious charm is o'er And glamour veils the world no more, Then while I drag my years along I'll curse the singer and the song." "But man blasts beauty,'' she replied, "The Muse within his arms has died. As if the holy were a clod, He blames divinity, or God. The Bard is man with face reversed. He upward looks, not down !" Upon young Leon's brow there stole The shadow of a frown. "Would you behold your loved Muse now?" she sighs, And seeks the soul within his eyes. CIECE 217 "Aye, now!" "In body, face to face?" "Aye, face to face!" "O think! your joy may turn to pain, Your love to hate; Refrain! I beg of you, refrain! Nor challenge Fate." "No fear have I!" "If she find favor in your eyes, O can you, can you break the spell And in the fog of grief and sighs Bid her a long farewell? In realization let her go. In memory live the joy, the woe?" "Aye! all the future shall be this One hour of rapt and perfect bliss. One climaai shall suffice for me Through days and years — Eternity !" 'Twas strange, but she, the oracle, the seer, Was trembling as do poplar leaves, that sheer With beauty turn their sheen unto the light; And then she rose to her full, splendid height. And spake in voice that seemed to moan, So low and tender was its tone. 218 DREAMS OF HELLAS "Your Muse, O Bard of mountain crest and sky. Your Muse, O Leon of the Wilds, am I; Ah, rapture, color, paradise and song! One kiss ere from your clinging arms I fly — Love, Love, my Love! I've waited long." She stepped into the day's clear glow. And with a trembling hand and slow The veil uplifted that concealed her face. And then in all the splendor and the grace Of noon that quivers ere it turns and flies. She flashed the fire of her mysterious eyes Full into his, while to her longing breast She lured him, tenderly, as She caressed His cheeks, his hair, nor smiling ceased Till on his ardent lips were pressed The fiery kisses of the East; Then drew herself far back, away. As goes the spirit of the day. Till vanished save a rose-red gleam That haunts forever like a dream, Hi^ Circe that his lips had known. His Muse of Melody had flown Amid the foliage of the trees Whose branches like tumultous seas Called "Victory!" to the Bard alone. CIRCE 219 Vague time may pass, the day, the night. And stars spin onward in their flight, The hours skim by like butterflies Aflame with joy that seldom dies; Yet here on Hellas' wooded hUl, Where Pindus sheer, aspiring, true. Is looming in a waste of blue, A singer sang and singeth still.