JACINTA AND OTHER VERSES By Howard V. Sutherland LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. T.5^ Chap Copyright No .8helf.,U_9._jV-^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Jacinta J A C I N T A A Californian Idyll And Other Verses By/ Howard V. Sutherland Doxey*s At the Sign of the Lark New York 1900 '4887 Library of Conqresa Two Copies Received NOV 13 1900 SN Copyright onlry SECOND COPY . Delivc-rod to ORDER DlViSION MOV 23 1900 No \'\P Copyright, 1900 Howard V. Sutherland UNIVERSITY PRESS • JOHN WILSON AND SON • CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. To FRANK DEARDORF Contents pVge Jacinta 3 The Lost Light 42 Our Lady of Great Consolation .... 43 San Francisco 44 Lyric 45 Close the Gates 46 Art 47 Science 48 The Evening Stars 49 This Day's Message 5° Compensation 5^ Death 52 The One Face 53 The Players' Question 54 The Midnight Visitation 55 vii Contents PAGE The Poet's Creed 56 Lyric 57 Hope at the Grave of Love 58 With a Volume of Elizabethan Lyrics . 59 With a Tanagra Statuette 60 Lyric 61 The Higher Praise 63 The Writing on the Wall 64 To One in Doubt 65 Lyric 66 Robert Browning 67 To One Who Wears Opals 6S The Higher Marriage 69 A Prayer for a Man's Passing .... 70 vin JACINTA : A CALIFORNIAN IDYLL JACINTA I SING of home, of western shore, Which hears each morn and night the sea With mighty crash and booming roar Give praise to God eternally ; Upon whose sands are sometimes hurled The wreckage of one half the world. I sing of home because I know My land of purple, green and gold ; Because I love it, and although I live in exile still I hold Of all earth's queenly lands the best Is still the sea-lapped, sun-lit West. 3 Jacinta I sing thereof because my soul Is sick with longing and I fain Would see the shining aureole That crowns the west, when down the main The sun goes royally ; the light Around him and behind — the night. How well I know that sea of mine When angry Tritons churn its deeps ; When maddened waves upheave their brine Against the land's rock -armored steeps ; And sullenly retreat again — Their frenzied onslaught all in vain. Towards the blind and barren beach Whose breast is strewn with shell and weed, The waves' white hands forever reach Until the waves themselves recede And arch their splendid backs in wrath And burst in floods of foam and froth. 4 Jacinta How well I know the wheeling gulls ; The hollow howling of the wind ; The barking seals ; the fitful lulls ; The surf; the dreary dunes behind ; The frowning clouds, close-wedged, enorme, The grim spectators of the storm. What bodes the ocean's empty rage? Why howl these foolish winds so loud? The Westland has its heritage — Immunity from storm and cloud. There cannot be eternal war Between the sea and this fair shore. While yet the sea-lashed Tritons fight The sun appears and bids them cease ; The skies are tinged with golden light, The winds and waters sign a peace. And ere the sands have drunk their fill A silence falls o'er sea and hill. 5 Jacinta How well I know my western land That clothes itself each month anew With blooms more golden than the sand, As white as snow, than sky more blue — Dear flowers that are content to be Like nuns in their humility ! The poppy, iris, marguerite, The larkspur and the violet ; The honeysuckle, fresh and sweet, The bluebell and the mignonette ; The pansy (loved of Proserpine), Forget-me-not and eglantine. And others which I cannot name Yet which are fair as flowers are ; Each morn, behold, they weep with shame At having wooed some distant star Which saw them not, but loved in turn The moon, for which all stars must yearn. 6 Jacinta Dear blooms, the world were drear indeed Were you not here to make it gay ; You make us think who sowed the seed, Who closes you at end of day. You may be humble, yet you teach Us more, perhaps, than they who preach. How fair those morns when o'er the deep Sets sail to wearied pagan lands The poppy-freighted ship of sleep To give men rest and ease their bands. Soft music seems to fill the air As though the angels choired there. How good each summer afternoon To lie amid the sedges tall And render thanks for God's best boon — To be alive and feel it all ; To be a part of land, of sea, The Past and of Eternity ; 7 Jacinta To hear the music of the shell, To feel the joyous wind's caress, To see the ocean's bosom swell And know Who makes it restless — yes, To be a very part of Him Who sends the mighty seraphim To beat the waters back and forth. And drag the ocean's silvered floors ; To tear the icefloes from the North, To light the lamps at heaven's doors ; To fling the snow on mountain crest And drive the sun from east to west. When evening falls, with crimson blush The sky beholds the earth prepare To woo the night. A solemn hush Pervades the faintly-perfumed air, Unless, perchance, by lonely bird The dreaming hills and woods are stirred. 8 Jacinta But soon the singer seeks its nest, Night's sentries guard the purpled dome ; The very sea incHnes to rest And gives the ocean birds a home. The hopeless moon, like pale-faced nun, Still dreams about the kingly sun. O'er sands and sea, o'er hill and vale, A sense of peacefulness descends ; No more the insects drone the tale Of how the day's short pleasure ends ; No more the straggling bees make known Their love in language all their own. But very soon the winds arise And murmur softly to the trees The songs they hear in Paradise — The holy angels' symphonies. And while they sing with voices deep The West, my West, is lulled to sleep. * * * * * * * * * Jacinta THE IDYLL A HILLY sea-coast, cleft in two, Some rocks, with barking seals at play ; A ruined fort which dares the blue And gray Pacific day by day. Deceptive slopes where bugles blow ; A bay secure from storm or foe. A youthful city, throned on hills, A city loved of wind and sun — A chalice which the evening fills With peacefulness when day is done ; O'er which the golden rays decline In steady streams of amber wine. To some a mother, on whose breast Most weary men from older lands Can lay their tired heads and rest Till strength returns to heart and hands ; Till will returns to up and move The slow world upward, groove by groove. lO Jacinta To some a youth, alert and proud, Whose Titan father sought his mate Among our hills, half- veiled in cloud ; A youth unfearing, sure of Fate, Determined, friend of Right and Truth - A type of noblest western youth. To some who look with lovers' gaze And point her beauty out at night, She seems a mistress all ablaze With countless jewels, red and white ; Outstretched above the sea she lies, Unuttered dreamings in her eyes. The four great winds of heaven strive To do her service loyally ; When stars wax amorous they drive The spectral mist from off the sea And hide her underneath its wings Until the day's first herald sings. II Jacinta The waters play about her feet, The breezes sport above her head ; In winter's cool, in summer's heat Amid the hills she hath her bed ; And be her pillow green or brown 'Mid flowers she can lay her down. In future years, it hath been writ. This western State shall rise and draw All earnest-purposed men to it, All laden ships towards its shore ; And proudly on the wooing air Shall float the Banner of the Bear. And San Francisco shall be made The arbitress 'twixt West and East, Adjudging fairly, unafraid ; Her tribunals toward the least And to the greatest e'er shall be A very spring of Equity. Jacinta Religion, Industries and Arts Shall here abide in those dim years When older lands, with older marts. Are blotted out beneath the tears Of humble workers ; worn away By breath of Time's sad serf — Decay. * * * western land, O western town, O western women, western men. When comes the day that I go down To sunless lands and sleep, ah, then, 1 beg ye grant to me the love So hard a-winning here above. So hard a-winning, though I sought By humble means to make it mine ; Not only has the soldier fought, But even he who hears divine Sad songs within his sunless heart And strives their message to impart 13 Jacinta To men and women wed to toil ; To those who have no time to hear The voice that rises o'er the broil Yet reaches only dreamer's ear, And whispers him of peace and rest And recompense for earth's oppressed. And very oft the man who sings Is wounded ; but he dares not tell About his wounds, his sufferings — He smiles, and all seems passing well. The song is heard ; but who shall heed The singer or the singer's need ? And though I heard a spirit sing About these sundown seas and lands, I could not tell ye everything — I do my best. God understands. And ye ? Ye will remember, then. My western women, western men ? 14 Jacinta Upon a hill that faced the sea A cottage stood, a humble place, Yet built of fragrant redwood tree And fashioned with a certain grace That spoke of taste and made one fain To pause and look at it again. Its walls were hid beneath a veil, Where birds made nests, of lasting green ; And roses red and roses pale And one big bunch of jessamine Entwined the latticed porch and made A scent as of a forest glade. A garden filled with shady trees And old-time flowers grew around ; They nodded idly in the breeze Or cast their petals on the ground ; While watchful hedges kept at bay The dune's encroachment day by day. 15 Jacinta 'T was early morn. The sun as yet Just stained the peaks with golden dye ; From out its leafy minaret A songster carolled at the sky And sought from out its nest to stir Each sleepy feathered worshipper. The sea was like a silver shield, Which scarcely seemed to rise or fall ; But when the sunbeams lit each field The shield was sapphire-hued, and all The waves awoke and clapped their hands And raced towards their love — the sands. And suddenly one sound was heard, The mingled music of the deep. The joyful wind, the careless bird — All nature, fresh-aroused from sleep. One endless song, one mighty hymn ; God's playthings giving thanks to Him. i6 Jacinta The door was opened and there came From out the house with stately tread And peaceful mien an aged dame ; The silvered hair upon whose head Was like a crown Time gives the old — More honored than a crown of gold. Your golden crowns are only worn In empty pomp by fated kings ; But silvered hair, like crown of thorn, Suggestive is of higher things. It tells of sorrow and of care Yet hints of triumph o'er despair. The dame's arrival seemed a sign For chicks of every size and kind In piping chorus to combine And follow noisily behind Their chatelaine, who also fed The birds that twittered overhead. 17 Jacinta And then among the younger flowers She moved and gathered, one by one, The sweet companions of the hours Whose lives, alas, so soon are done ; And thought, perhaps, how even she Must brave some day the Greater Sea. But ere her posy was complete The door was opened once again By one who ran with tripping feet That touched the path like summer rain To where the smiling mother stood — Still conscious of her motherhood. Jacinta this ; a simple girl Of seventeen, who had not spent Her childhood in the fevered whirl Of city life, where backs are bent And souls are dwarfed beneath the load We all must pack along the road. i8 Jacinta A child at heart, who had not known The city's base temptations ; for With mother she had Uved alone Above the sea, above the shore — Above the rocks, above the wrecks, Beyond the touch of derelicts. A flower born 'neath redwood trees Transplanted to the peaceful heights ; A playmate of the rain and breeze, Of shadows and of changing lights. As much a part of nature as The poppies and azaleas. A simple girl whose faith was still As whole as piping bird's may be ; Who saw a glory on the hill And heaven's mirage on the sea ; Whose trust in all her kind was sure Because herself was good and pure. 19 Jacinta A comely maid she was. Her hair Was golden as the autumn grain ; Her eyes were blue ; her skin was fair Despite the touch of wind and rain. She seemed a dryad of the wood Just merging into womanhood. She kissed her mother ; then she placed, With girlish pride in girlish strength, A rounded arm about her waist ; And so they slowly walked the length Of all their world, until at last 'T was time to break the morning's fast. * * * O ye who idly while away The morn, the noon, the eve, the night, Forget not those who never play — The little ones who have to fight To earn their daily loaf of bread, To pay for clothes or trundle-bed. 20 Jacinta They are so young, they are so frail, They were not made to work like men ; The blood that leaves those cheeks so pale Can ne'er be conjured back again. Those little limbs, so weak, so thin, How can these children conquer sin ? How few of them have seen the sea! How few have spent a holiday Among the trees where they should be Instead of withering away Beneath the tiles, upon the street, Exposed alike to cold and heat ! Had ye a sister? Look at these ! A brother ? See those urchins there ! The sweat shops and the factories Are fed with such from year to year ; And later on the prisons reap The unripe harvest. Can ye sleep? 21 Jacinta There are so many to assist ; There is so much that ye can do To help the httle ones who missed The joys of Hfe. If ye but knew How oft they hunger, I am sure Ye 'd help the children of the poor. WITHIN the city there did dwell An unknown youth, John Orme by name ; Whom fortune favored not too well Although he fought his way to fame In after years — as all must do Who wish to join the chosen few. 22 Jacinta An upright lad of kingly heart, Of kingly mien and kingly soul ; A lad to take and play a part And leave his name on honor's scroll. A lad whom men would love and whom A girl would follow to the tomb. A western lad who had not been Beyond the borders of his State, But knew full well (for he had seen) What makes our California great j And was content to stay and be A partner in her destiny. * * * Look out upon your fertile land, Ye Californians, and be proud ; The sea is yours, that golden sand. Those mountains which defy the cloud ; Those valleys rich in fruit and corn Those streams where trout and salmon spawn. 23 Jacinta Ye have of precious ore your share, Ye have your cattle and your steeds ; Ye have your solemn forests where No drunken Pan e'er piped on reeds To break the dreams of redwood trees As hoary as the centuries. Your sons are clean souled, brave and strong, Good men to love, good men to fight ; Good men to rectify a wrong When once they start to set things right, And make new laws and simpler creeds To suit their fellows' many needs. Your daughters are as fair as pearls. As pure as purest pearl can be ; (A health to all dear western girls Across the land, across the sea !) Behold their strength of limb, their grace ; Ye need not fear for western race. 24 Jacinta Look out upon this State of yours, Ye Californians of to-day ; The world is at your very doors — Ye cannot keep the world away ; And in your dreams when ye are dead Ye '11 hear it tramping overhead. * * * They met at first beside the sea — The sea which gives and takes again ; The restless priest of Destiny Whose very voice is fraught with pain ; The sea which never sleeps, and sees Such sorrow and such tragedies ! And then they met upon the hills Each drawn towards the other by That force which guides and sometimes stills The flaming meteors of the sky. And soon Jacinta knew no more The peace that had been hers before. 25 Jacinta For though they talked of other things, About their hopes, about their fears, Love touched them gently with its wings And lo ! it seemed that they for years Had wandered thus on hills or sand. Two happy children, hand in hand. And soon John loved her, as a weed Might love a rose ; for he was poor And never dreamed that she had need Of him to make her peace secure. And she, whose prayers were still unheard. Knew all, but could not say a word. The months passed by till one late noon The maiden and the mother sat Beside their door, nor thought how soon A Visitor would knock thereat And beckon one to come and see The glory of God's majesty. 26 Jacinta The mother's thoughts were with the past, Her soul was with her patient dead ; But Hfe's blue sky was overcast For sweet Jacinta, and instead Of dreaming of the coming years She dreamed of John amid her tears. And soon she knelt beside the dame And sobbed unhindered ; then she told About her love and how he came Across her path, like knight of old ; And how the very dunes seemed fair And beautiful when he was there. And how a glory clothed the sea Because she saw it through his eyes ; And how the bright stars seemed to be The outer lamps of Paradise, And all because God's ministers Had made her his and made him hers. 27 Jacinta Alone they were, those sacred ones — The maid and mother ; both akin In purity to purest nuns Who ever pray for those who sin ; The maid and mother — links that bind The spirit world with humankind. Across the embowered portico The first sad heralds of the mist With faces veiled and footsteps slow Crept past to keep their phantom tryst, And laid their cool moist fingers on The roses' cheeks in benison. The sea was hid beneath a pall Which spread along the sand's soft bed, And soon the lonely dunes and all The shore was hid ; while overhead The mist swept past and every hill Wore Death's gray robe and was as still. 28 Jacinta The mother kissed her grieving child And stroked her hair and bade her be Less sad of heart and reconciled To God's own will and surely He Would one day, when He deemed it best, Set both their troubled hearts at rest. * * * That self-same night there softly trod The winding stairways of the skies An angel from the courts of God — A Gardener, with kindly eyes Most calm with age, most kind with love, Who tends the gardens there above. He was not heard, he was not seen. Nor did he make his presence known ; For though the Gardener has been Each night to earth since first were sown The flowers he culls, and holds so dear, Men think of him, and will, with fear. 29 Jacinta They do not know how good he is, How very wise, how very kind ; As old as human frailties — To all our imperfections bhnd. They do not know he plants us all In gardens near God's tribunal. That night he walked along the shore And saw among the hills afar A cottage he had passed before, The door of which was left ajar. He went thereto and oped it wide And saw two flowers, side by side. Asleep they lay. The one still fair — A simple child whose cheeks were wet ; The angel saw her golden hair And folded hands and said : " Not yet, Sweet one, so young ; for thou must learn The joys of life ere I return. 30 Jacinta " The flowers of yonder land above Have known life's joy, have known its pain ; Have known its grief, have known its love, Have seen night turn to day again. The buds are only gathered when They might be bruised by thoughtless men." He passed to where the other lay, Narcissus-white, with heart of gold ; He touched her, saying : " Come away To where thy petals may unfold ! " She sighed in sleep, then sweetly smiled And woke to plead for her dear child. 31 Jacinta ''' I ^ WAS evening now. Two days had gone -■• To join the Past since on the heights The angel walked and left thereon A simple flower to brave the nights — The awful nights, the barren days When one departs and one still stays. The air was now so calm, serene, So full of subtle promisings, One scarce believed that Death had been Along that way, or that his wings Perhaps were drooping even then Above the heads of boastful men. The sun was setting. O'er the grass Belated sunbeams cast their gold Like careless spendthrifts whom, alas, The cloak of night must soon enfold, And who can never read the sky And learn how soon they have to die. 32 Jacinta The sky was robed in pearly gray, With fringe of violet and blue, With lemon tints where yet the day Was disappearing, passing through The heaven's arch to light the least Of all the mountains in the East. The glinting city seemed asleep. Its revelry was laid aside ; For men are glad to rest and keep The Sabbath holy, o'er the wide. Wide world wherein they come and go* Like human ships, tossed to and fro. And e'en the sea was very still. The waves rolled softly up the sand ; No sound was heard on dunes or hill — The world appeared to understand That Grief had left her biding place To be on earth a little space. 3 33 Jacinta Among the hills where few men tread There lies an acre hedged around, Wherein repose the peaceful dead — A silent place where ne'er a sound Except the piping of a bird Or crash of distant surf is heard. A humble place except to them Who sojourn there, and know that they Will some day see the cherubim Pour forth the mighty vials of Day Upon the purpled robes of Night And flood the world with purest light. Without, the restless sedges wave Their lissome arms towards the sea ; Within, above each grass-locked grave Sweet flowers bloom eternally. Without, nor winds nor worries cease ; Within is ever rest and peace. * * * 34 Jacinta Whoe'er thou art thou shalt be borne One day to such a resting place ; And though thy heart be glad or torn When thou hast run thy little race Thou, too, shalt lay thee down and find Good rest in death, and peace of mind. Whoe'er thou art, or rich or poor. The Gardener will come for thee And place thy cross this side the door And lay thee with his company. And thou shouldst not be loath to leave The life wherein one has to grieve. Whoe'er thou art, or sick or well. Thou shalt be borne by others there ; Thou dost not know, no man can tell Of thy hence-taking, when or where. But thou shouldst not be loath to sleep Where none will dream and none will weep. 35 Jacinta Whoe'er thou art, or young or old, Thou shouldst be more than glad to go, To leave thy poverty or gold For those who still must reap and sow j For there among those silent friends All toil is o'er, all sorrow ends. * * * Along the central path there crept A slow procession ; first there were The men who bore the one who slept And who would soon be resting there ; While many women walked behind With children restless as the wind. Towards a grave they wound their way — An open grave which soon would hide Until the final Judgment Day The humbled dust that lay inside. And when at last they came thereto They laid the casket down and drew 36 Jacinta Around their priest who knew each one — Had blessed them all before at birth And when their little lives were done Would bless and lay them in the earth, And pray for them by night and day Until he, too, was lured away. He spoke to them in simple speech And told them all that man can tell, The lessons that the Scriptures teach — The promise that it shall be well With those who do their humble best And lay them down in faith to rest. He told them how each mortal must Pass on towards that higher sphere. And leave as tribute here his dust Which grows so heavy as we near The little door that closes fast When once the wanderer has passed. 37 Jacinta He told them of that fairer place Where we shall meet at trumpet call And see our Maker face to face And learn the reason of it all : Where loved ones linger side by side And are forever satisfied. He paused awhile till sturdy men The casket lowered to its bed Upon the yellow clay, and then He cast on it some earth and said Those mighty words that promise hfe Yet wound the heart like keenest knife. The mourners stayed until the grave Was satisfied. When all was through The priest to each his blessing gave And all went homewards ; all save two Jacinta, one ; the other, John, Who could not leave but lingered on. Jacinta They stood together, hand in hand, A western lad, a western maid ; Afar was heard upon the sand Each wave's faint murmur as it laid Its tribute at her golden feet And died ere conquest was complete. And solemn bells would chime and then Be lost in space ; content to be Of moment's use — reminding men Of prayer and of eternity. And how they too must fade away As fades the sunshine, ray by ray. The heavens were darkened now ; the stars, Like vestal virgins whom the sun Keeps prisoners behind the bars. Stepped slowly forth and, one by one. Prepared to greet and glorify The stately empress of the sky. 39 Jacinta The winds in numbers sad and slow Had sung the dead day's requiem ; Had seen its courtiers seawards go, Had seen the evening follow them ; They lingered now upon the hill Where all, except the sedge, was still. One almost seemed to feel the breath Of angels on the scented air ; Or was it yet the wings of Death, The Gardener, who hovered there Above the silent, grieving twain And fain had made them glad again? Jacinta sobbed as though her heart Were like to break ; for still it seemed She could not dare to play her part Alone in life, where no star gleamed To set her wandering feet aright And comfort her throughout the night. 40 Jacinta i She knelt and prayed for help and strength To do her work, to find her way Throughout life's maze, and when at length She rose again, it seemed a ray Of light suffused her doubting soul And made it strong again and whole. And still they lingered side by side Although they never spoke a word ; But He whom she had asked to guide Her bark across the sea had heard Her girlish prayer ; for even while She turned to John with weary smile, To bid him take her home, he stood In front of her and told his love ; And something whispered he was good So, with a prayer to God above. She gazed in his clear eyes and saw Not only heaven something more. 41 Jacinta THE LOST LIGHT AS one in dreams awhile may clearly see The much-loved face of one long passed away, So, too, there comes, when saddest seems the day, A fleeting glimpse of Paradise to me. I see the hosts who wait with bended knee Before the Throne whence glory streams alway ; I seem to hear the very words they say In tones that make the wind's sweet melody. But when my soul, returned from heaven, tries With gentle song to still the hapless sighs Of my pale fellows, slaves to grief and pain, Expression fails me and while yet I seek In halting rhyme the words I heard to speak. The curtain falls and all grows dark again. 42 Jacinta OUR LADY OF GREAT CONSOLATION SHE stands secure above the world's unrest To plead with God the sorrows of our race ; A mother's smile relights her thoughtful face As each lone soul creeps sadly to her breast. Within her arms (O arms so softly pressed About thy babe !) each one may find a place Who yearns for love and that all-sacred grace With which at last earth's weary ones are blest. Each one to her can falter out the tale Of tasks attempted, how results would fail The soul's ideal and the heart's desire ; And when, at last, the childish murmurs cease, With soothing glance she gives the griever peace And strength to brave the daytime's purging fire. 43 Jacinta SAN FRANCISCO (from the hills) '"|\ yriD sedges tall this summer day I lie ^^■^ And hear the waves fall softly on the sand. So pure the air, it seems with outstretched hand One e'en might touch that veil we call the sky. From o'er the sea the wind with fretful sigh Betakes its way across the fertile land, Whose flaunting poppies form a golden band, And dance before the sun's voluptuous eye. Beyond the dunes a city, young but proud, Uprears its front in sunshine or through cloud — The fairest jewel on our country's breast ; A man-made city, whose strong voice shall sound In days to come life's truths the world around, And wake earth's leaders from their gold-drugged rest. 44 Jacinta I LYRIC N the wake of the moon is one faithful attendant Who finds his delight In watching the face of his mistress resplendent, The Queen of the Night. The moon has attained to the height of her power, The star is still pale ; 'Twixt aught save the sun and the heaven's fair flower What love can avail? So the nights turn to years, and the moon in her glory Still travels through space ; And the star gives no sign of his love or his story But watches her face. 45 Jacinta CLOSE THE GATES MAKE fast the gates through which for years have poured The lawless hosts from yonder side the world ; Against our land these human shafts are hurled And spread contagion from their own foul horde. Dear to their souls are fire and the sword, Like snakes they lie within the shadow curled ; They flout our flag — the flag which floats unfurled Above their heads them freedom to aflbrd. Our men are idle and our women weep, Their little babes go hungrily to sleep ; And still they come — Italians, Slavs and Greeks. Make fast the gates against this human slime For Want will drive our stalwart men to crime And tempt their daughters with their whitened cheeks. 46 Jacinta ART THE same to-day with dim, dead yesterdays True Art remains, beyond Death's welcome thrall, And pays no heed to that imperious call Whereby earth's great obtain their deathless bays. Through gray-hued years, in drear, unlightened ways, From on her throne she sees vast empires fall Whose crumbling wrack ne'er soils her temple's wall, Strong built and high, of envious chrysoprase. And one sweet chord doth bind all souls who kneel. Or once have knelt at her dear feet, and feel That quenchless flame her chosen understand ; Thus they who sleep beneath Italian skies Are one with those who hear the wind's soft sighs With restful requiems woo our western land. 47 Jacinta SCIENCE WITH cool, calm brow and eyes dispassionate She sits near Art, and sees her children wrest The veil aside which shields the earth's warm breast And, one by one, their victories consummate. To those who dare, she shows both cause and fate Of all vain things, and helps their eager quest To read the words that crown life's sunlit crest Before they seek, pale-lipped, Death's shadowed gate. A teacher she, who makes her pupils find Mysterious meanings in the rain and wind. And hints of heaven in the humblest sod ; And though she rends, the rents but help to prove The law behind — the law of ceaseless love That proves Man's grand affinity with God. 48 Jacinta THE EVENING STARS THE stars that light the firmament, I often think, are nuns, Who purely lived and gladly went To chant their orisons In chorus at the golden door Whence mercy streams forevermore. We only see those nuns at night ; By day they kneel and pray And ask of God to send us light To drive our gloom away. But every eve they sing and smile And heavy hearts are glad the while. 49 Jacinta THIS DAY'S MESSAGE MAKE thou no plan of deeds that will be done To-morrow — day that may not dawn for thee; Perchance 'tis writ this night the night shall be Wherein thy soul by hungry Death is won. E'er morning light thy Hfe's last sands may run Their fleeting course, and thou must brave that sea Whose fearsome waters glide eternally Between earth's shores and heaven's outpost sun. To-day thou art ; a few short hours are thine Wherein to quaff of life's enchanting wine Whose bitter dregs must, too, be drained at last. To-morrow is to-morrow's. Canst thou say What thou wilt do, or how wilt while away The unborn hours to which thy right is past ? 50 Jacinta COMPENSATION I DREAMED one night I stood before the seat Of God in heaven, brooding o'er my past. With bitter smile my bleeding soul I cast For judgment in the flames about His feet. But very soon my soul, made pure and sweet. Flew back to me, and I beheld at last My nobler self, angelic grown and vast. And all my life seemed rounded and complete. Abashed I stood, until an angel came And led me thence to where the blessed Dame Awaited us, upon her breast a dove. She understood the look upon my face Which seemed to ask: "Wherefore this gift of grace?" So smiled and said : " Our God, is He not Love?" 51 Jacinta DEATH TT /"ITH restful lips, o'er which no laughter And mighty limbs, in gray hues garmented, She sits and waits life's outcast, weary dead To seal their mouths and close their frightened eyes. No heed she pays to pleadings, nor to sighs. But lays her hand on each care-weighted head And gives it rest — God's promised rest — instead. Until each one from sleep shall rearise. And unto each she doth a gift bequeath — To those who strived, perhaps, a laurel wreath ; To others sleep and sweet forgetfulness. While unto those whose lips ne'er knew, above. The fond communion of another's love, She doth bestow, unknown, their first caress. 52 Jacinta THE ONE FACE AS one late rose, unspoiled by autumn winds, Makes bright the garden, desolate and bare So one dear face, the soul's fond comforter. Can with a smile make all the world seem fair. 53 Jacinta THE PLAYERS' QUESTION " TT THENCE come the countless phantoms » » which we see Filling our house, new-visaged every day? Where do they go when once they pass away, Silent, unnoticed, wrapt in mystery? Who is this One (if One there truly be) Who has the power to create and slay Us, the poor puppets of this ghostly play Which may continue through eternity? " So ask the weary players ; but, alas. No answer comes till one by one they pass (The priest, the fool, the soldier and the sage) Behind the misty curtain and, revealed. See what was once conjectured, though concealed — A host of actors on a mighty stage. 54 Jacinta THE MIDNIGHT VISITATION BUT yesternight my own Beloved came — My sad soul's light, both wondrous fair and wise — And lit awhile with rays from her sweet eyes The humble room wherein I toil for fame. So fair she seemed ! About her head the same Rich glory hovered that one sees in skies That gain the day's last blessing, ere it flies To tell earth's sorrow to the star-crowned Dame. How good it was on that still ripening breast. Forgetting all, my weary head to rest, And cool my lips within her tresses' shade ; But when I sought, grown strong, to hold her hand Within mine own that she might understand, I sighed, and then — ah well, each dream must fade. 55 Jacinta THE POET'S CREED I FAIN would teach the beauties of belief, In that grand creed wherein the one God bides, Above all worlds and in all things, and guides Our faltering steps, or long our lives or brief. For good it is for us to know that grief Is but a veil, without whose darkness hides The Light of Lights in whom each soul confides When Death to Life's sad doubting brings relief. As phantom lights upon some lonely fen Have lured astray the feet of weary men. So worldly thought our bonds with God has rent. In 6&^ipe years a star, a smile, a shower, The morn's soft dew, the storm, the waking flower. Will speak of Him and thus give men content. 56 Jacinta LYRIC COMMAND me not, my Queen, to go From out thy sight ; To brave the storm, the bUnding snow. The starless night. Within thy heart the shrine is placed Whereat I pray ; Ah, send me not, fore'er disgraced. In tears away. But let on me the love-light shine Within thine eyes, Wherein is stored the light divine When daytime dies. 57 Jacinta HOPE AT THE GRAVE OF LOVE OLOVE, dear Love, I stand my guard alone In night's sad calm beside thy sacred tomb ; Weary am I, and frightened at the gloom And at the sorrow in the poor wind's moan. Oh, my Beloved ! art thou not my own ? No fear have we to parted be by doom, For we are one. Thou only canst relume My lamp's pale light, half-spent and feeble grown. My heart is stifled by these flowers' breath, Which seems to whisper thou art one with Death And not with me. Yon lonely cushat dove Has ceased its song, and o'er the moistened grass The hopeless shadows with vague movements pass And pity me, who cry to thee, O Love ! 58 Jacinta WITH A VOLUME OF ELIZABETHAN LYRICS THESE songs, dear friend, may softly speak to thee Of happy hours, and soothe thy tender heart Of all unrest, and heal perchance the smart Of all thy woe and maiden misery. These men could sing ; their lovely melody In many eyes has made the tear-drops start. Their ware was love, the world was but the mart In which they showed their songs to you and me. And as you turn the throbbing pages o'er Remember this : that though they are no more Their words still live, like stars which shine above ; They ne'er will die, for hearts are still the same, And sure are men of everlasting fame Who croon the world to rest with songs of love. 59 Jacinta WITH A TANAGRA STATUETTE AS old, perhaps, though not so fair as She Who through long years of restlessness has stood The type of highest, purest womanhood, This statue is, I herewith proffer thee. That other's eyes look forward and they see Thy sisters* future ; these in pity brood Above their past. Thus both are truly good And worthy a true woman's sympathy. Dear Lady, then, within some shrined recess Place thou this one, whose downcast glances bless The pallid brows of her most patient dead ; So she may gain, when thou shalt hover near, Thy lamp's own light, and bear to each lonei^ier New words of peace and hopefulness instead. 60 Jacinta LYRIC PALE lips that yearn for kisses, Sad lips that ever grieve, Red lips that know what bliss is And taste of it at eve — Bethink you how the flowers Beneath the mould must He ; They bloom a few short hours And then they fade and die. O blue eyes live with fire, O black eyes lit with flame, O eyes that wake desire And eyes still soft with shame — Bethink you time is flying And love is passing, too ; At dawn you may be lying Beneath the sombre yew ! 6i Jacinta There rest the old-time lovers, There sleep they, man and maid ; Too late each one discovers The sunshine turns to shade. Bethink you, you must follow, As night-time follows day, To where the hills are hollow And Love no more holds sway. 62 Jacinta THE HIGHER PRAISE (at the grave of RICHARD REALF, LONE MOUNTAIN) WITH curling lip I sought that chosen place Wherein, at last, earth's toilers rest, nor hear The fretful call of songbird, or the drear Dull boom of waves against the sad shore's face. The hopeless fog had ceased its spectral race In search of peace, which restless man holds dear And seldom finds. The air was cool and clear ; The flowers slept and night came on apace. Beneath a mound of simple green there lay A man who sang, yet lacks the deathless bay. And lies unheeded, though his art was great ; But while I mused the wind from o'er the sea With scented breath crept gently up to me And whispered low : ** Unloved of all — save Fate ! " 63 Jacinta THE WRITING ON THE WALL I LOOK beyond the sunshine and I see Two ominous clouds grow larger day by day : Across the gloom with fitful flashes play The lightnings of our bondmen's enmity ; Our shackled hordes creep forward as the sea O'erfloods the land the which it gnaws away, And 'neath each smile I see a blank dismay Of what behind the future's veil may be. I hear a tramping as of men at arms, The bugles' shrilling and the drums' alarms. The cries of children and the mothers' groans ; The country trembles and the cities shake, The fools make merry but the wise men quake — They know the meaning of the undertones. 64 Jacinta TO ONE IN DOUBT IN one who treads each morn the mountains' height And sees the golden glory everywhere There is excuse, I hold, for sweet despair When sunbeams fade before encroaching night. The heart and soul crave ever ceaseless light And prove thereby dependance on His care From whom we say come all things good and fair — Each feathered priest and petaled anchorite. So when the shades with muffled footsteps creep Along the paths to put the flowers to sleep And phantom mists drop down o'er hill and dell, The heart grows sad because the spirit seems Too weak alone to face night's sombre dreams Forgetting this : The gloom is God's as well. S 6s Jacinta LYRIC O SWEET my loved one, hear my prayer, Be thou mine own and love me ! So dear art thou, so proud, so fair — Alas, so far above me. Yet thou, perchance, dear love, wilt deign To soothe a heart long steeped in pain, For pity is a maiden's gain — O sweet my loved one, hear ! So oft I 've prayed, my heart is sore. When far from thee I sorrow. And yet, alas, it pains me more To meet thee on the morrow. Ah, would that I were fondly pressed Against thy true, all-sacred breast, Then, then, ah then, might I find rest — O sweet my loved one, hear ! 66 LofO. Jacinta ROBERT BROWNING OPOET Soul ! whose most melodious songs Can soothe the heart attuned to Life's sweet sorrow, Our doubting minds from thy great strength can borrow That wondrous faith for which the God-Soul longs. Star-pure and calm amidst seraphic throngs Thou watchest now our stumbling feet, which follow Thy beaten track which on some hallowed morrow Shall lead us home from out this world of wrongs. As minor stars from out the central sun Beget their light, so we, till all is done, May solace find in soul-born melody ; We turn to thee, between whose every line . The primal thoughts of human welfare shine — Life, Love and God, and Immortality ! 67 Jacinta TO ONE WHO WEARS OPALS THINK not, dear lady, that a fateful gem Around thy form can cast unhallowed spell ; But rather know that it belongs full well Among the stones that form thy diadem. Fair are they all, but mistress over them. Lady, thou art, as rules the asphodel Among the drooping flowers, when the knell Of day's sad burial sounds their requiem. Nay, I do hold, at sight of thy kind face Those opals gain fresh virtues and the grace That is, dear lady, thine and e'er will be ; They thus become thy guards, whose duties are From hurt and harm of envious, baneful star Through night's and day's long hours to keep thee free. 68 Jacinta THE HIGHER MARRIAGE ONE summer's eve in yonder church I whiled An hour away in meditative prayer, And while I dreamed, a maid, most young and fair. With silent step approached the Dame most mild. Before her feet, with loving touch, the child Laid fresh-culled roses, odorous and rare, Whose scents commingled and possessed the air In purest passion, warm yet undefiled. Ah, when the soul forsakes this house of clay To roam untrammelled through the courts of Day And seek its fond companions of the past, May it not be that we (whose love is vain) May taste the sweets of innocence again And share the perfumes' purity at last? 69 Jacinta A PRAYER FOR A MAN'S PASSING LET me not pass till eve, Till that day's fight is done ; What soldier cares to leave The field until it 's won ! And I have loved my work and fain Would be deemed worthy of the ranks again. Let twilight come, then night, And when the first birds sing Their matin songs, and light Wakens each slumbering thing, Let Someone waken me, and set My feet to steps that lead me upward yet. 70 In Preparation BIGGS'S BAR, & OTHER KLONDYKE BALLADS J^UY A*^ ■•*'