4 1 | j j 4~ §8ZLOELEOX _ iii AYVHSEIT VINIDHIA 40 ALISHSAPree ee res LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA PRESENTED BYe $US GEG iad GG ADDHEEIGEETSTRTTE/ TREE RPE Pata STS¥ et enenvanSitnttvnayisTveyeayesivi dst fsva tstevea ERRTPETHRTTTTAARRTEREGE Toate tee DREAM SHIPS* ekEe | eas PERE Le ; bee SiDELALELL CERES SEESS EES: babuehiake| AECL ct Tee aT ay Hee a ibe ii DREAM SHIPS A Book of Poems by BETH WALKER PETER G. BOYLE : PUBLISHER 267-275 West Seventeenth Street, New York CityCOPYRIGHT, 1923, PETER G. BOYLE eee eee PPP eT rr Serr ers reorere : : r eee eee eee errr rere ctSLAG A a eT Te DEDICATION The past, that makes the present, and the dead That draws the living near—I could not bring My heart for all to see, had I not you Forever, both. It is for youl sing; The glory of your love fades never . . . so I give you this—my heart—that you may know.Among the magazines and newspapers in which some of these poems have appeared are the Mayflower, Bruno’s Weekly, The Literary Digest, the Boston Transcript and the Spring- field Republican, to whom thanks is given for permission to reprint them.{LITA eH A ag a LT TITTLE eee TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE ue REE VEE TROPOLEPAN: <5: 5 ae BEDOUIN ee ee ee IBUBEERSOWEED 9 556 9 a ee CANZONE, (0 eee CHANGELING. 00 6 = IDAGUERREGTYPE 4. °°). 25° 4 ee DEFEAT SE Ee Fe Be pee IOESIRES fet oO ee ee NOAINUEASIAY (go ge ee ee ae BEEUR VERER: (cco 6 ISRAGMENT) (602.0508 oe (GURVIPSE sige ee a ee eG FRERPDITY On ep a el ee i NCOGNUDON fc (a) ee ee ee KE PN RIE Hi in NEENIORIAM © 2 eo Se oe ! NUSE-FOR YOU ©... 3) 4 a KEEPSAKES ates SG ee ee MeEmoriES—NEw York ee WEBSSAGE = ee NIORGUE © 0 a a a ee Wier a ee Ce ene eee My LITTLE Son ne so peel My Love WILL Naucur OF ‘ME ee es No-MaAn’s LAND . . i a eae OncE I KNEWTABLE OF CONTENTS—Continued On READING Browninc’s “SAUL” PASTORAL. ; PENDULUM PoEMS : PopPliES oes PYGMALION WAKES. Ours .: REMORSE SPRING LOVER SWAMP © 6: 2. THe GoLpEN Cr RCLE . Tue Least oF THESE THERE Is ONE Boy ‘THISTLEDOWN -To A FIcKLE LaApy To Love’s MASTER SINGER To One DEAD To THe New ScHoor EVVASTE: . . WHat PRICE? WHEN First Sprinc B W HISPERINGS resres You Nrver KNEw REEZES BLowsLLELU AEH RU ie aadE aU AET AE Tne DREAM SH ipsSo FSTe PEERUUERES TPP eS EEE ETE SECETFESREESES CS BUERETSEU SERVER EER EEEjLLLHAMELHHEddHdIH AL ASASAAALAH aMAdEA UHM AAA HAA ELLE LSI HTT Vases aes DAGUERREOTYPE This dreamer, deep in youth, this girl With childhood’s gaze, yet woman’s chin, Who seems all eager to begin The fight of life . . . who would unfurl Her standard boldly . . . and would Wil. Is she the woman—weary, hurt and sad— Torn by life’s cruelties—who never knew The victory certain or the dream come true? Is she the mother—broken, dully glad I; At death’s release at last, so long o’er due? li Ah, no... . for years ago,—why, she was old! She never sat so straight or knew such grace; Yet somehow . . . there’s myself . hecsoull = - = iy tace, And I’ve her dreams; and they shall all be told, For Ilamshe . . . and she has made my place!MUTE I found my Love with laughter When the year was young; But time was all too short, and Love Went all unsung. I lost my Love with weeping When the year was fled; And time is al] too sad for song When Love is dead.{LAL MUHER ETA disbbod SA USHA ATHLETE eee TMM 4 i [ iis PASTORAL Where yet the blossom lingers and the leaf still clings The pipes call ever; Spring long since hath fled, Summer forgotten lies, and Autumn, dead These many weary years, no longer flings Her flaming beauty down the world. Yet sings The lover wind through immortal Philemon To kiss his Sweet, and Glaucus, being won Forever, ever whispers echoings. So comes the Spring again, transcendant Youth, Answering swift and sure when wood-gods call; Eternal wonder of eternal truth: Life liveth ever where the dead leaves fall. My Winter comes apace—give faith to know Where all is ice, yet will the snow-drop blow!TO A FICKLE LADY I cannot love you always, I dare not say I’m true, But I will love full merrily— Perhaps—as long as you.fH Lt AL eR LG eT THe ee a f i ite CANZONE | ! Pen points etched a tracery— Words upon a page; But laughter made sweet melody From age to age. Eyes were made for seeing And ears to hear, But songs unborn, to hearts that sing Are passing dear.EYLLERYESESEASEPERES ELESERESEREESESECESSESFSEOSESSERSSERSLESEEFSAEREAPEOELOO BESTE MESSAGE I sat with one just dead—and not again Can petty wrong or careless word prevail To wound, as once so keenly,—tongues shall fail, And all that is not Beauty shall be vain. Since I have seen Life’s whole of pattern plain No soil must touch my weaving—I must know Only the true, the proved thread, and so Make perfect copy where the stamp is lain. Peace hath her own—no bitterness may come Within the presence, holy, haunting, still; A seal is set that none may open ’til The soul shall speak again that now is dumb. I sat with Death, and lo, was written there The truth of Life, all beautiful and fair! REPU REESE ER ES ERIGERERSE t PPPRROE SESE SREE® Poe Soe oo < ee PPEFFVEREFETERRSET roi Tests EETT SeaERESEPEECeSctr sree bees brakes Stes ret the eee iLUT ET gu adc EET TEST eee ONCE I KNEW The city silent lay Before the dawn, Beneath a silent sky, A hush of waiting, like a veil, was drawn Across the world;—and God walked by, And it was day!QUEST One cried me, passing, whom the world held wise, And grieved there was no laurel for my brow Like unto his,—nor dimly visioned how Who knows the forest seeks no higher prize. Came, too, the golden treasurer, his eyes Alight with joy of power, and for me Sweet pity, for that greater wealth than he I treasured in the ever-changing skies. Prayed then the singer: might be born to me The flame he knew, and words to tell the dream; Yet could I listen only—greater gleam I glimpsed: the song eternal of the sea. Each unto each, to envy or condone, The world may pass—for I have found my own |!dd AMGL SL a gOU ANA GHD ALA dHH AT ade ESL SPILLS LGuL EI AAA LAHAT ATTA UATE SHINee INCOGNITO On her hand the hard skin, deep crack and rough mount, In her eyes the dull light, dead lid and red rim, Sad and old the bent back, tired feet and flat breast, And over all the maimed heart, that knows no rest. But in her mind the red dawn, song of bird and green field, Glint of gold in blue sky, rose leaves and Spring, And in her soul a babe’s laugh, light of love and day-dreams— Ah me, strange it is, Life is never what it seems. egeteatetasgestgeatatittiststesiiatesi sia ae pesasl si taal oaeastaseuem eas ses cede us faeSPUPESER ER SPEER SEER ESTE ES SeSeeR PER RER PEER EEG REESE i EESESESES eehesebay DEFEAT You gave me love, and I have nothing now Of all the things I used to hold so dear; I am too safe within the harbor bar, The sighing, crying sea—I cannot hear! The world is all before me, yet I dare not ask Your word to go;—I have no gifts to bring; My lips are soft with kisses, and my hands No longer reach and help—they only cling! You took my love, and I have nothing left For anyone but you. How sweet to know I shall be always sheltered, always safe, And underneath, I wish—it were not so! EEE| ELE GMT eT ner HELM ae HEREDITY At mid-life, pause . . . and despair . Where stand my ancestors—grey ghosts of yesterday Who will not die; Who wait . . . sullen—pleading—defiant Seeking life always again in me, Holding me fast in their footsteps Despite all efforts. Pll match you—yes! And loose the hold forever; Doom all to death without fulfillment. You—who will not let me be myself— Why should I join your band, haunting, like you, My second self, who shall be part of me And yet apart? No! I'll have none of you! Mine’s the whip-hand; . . . I am the last! I'll cut the thread forever. So—tremble then—good, wise and bold, Blessed, accurst and kind—yet murderers each Of me, the last. Weep then, you parasites, At me, the very boldest of you all; i At me, somehow the wisest and most kind; a At me—the murderer. fises tet SESEESSEREEES ‘ AT THE METROPOLITAN Down the long gallery of the Great, I gazed, Drinking in life from the dead sculptor’s hand, What miracle he planned Was worked anew in me; I stood amazed At all but quivering flesh and moving line. And then (comes disenchantment of desire grown bold) I reached to touch the pulsing figure . And the stone was cold. It seemed the loss of vision was too great to bear, When sudden I grew conscious of two children near Who looked in awe and silence, and to them The truth came clear; | They found what age, despairing, ever seeks, And I, beholding, felt their joy was mine, For art was there; In the soft curve of living children’s cheeks, The slender limbs, grace all unsought, the wide-eyed stare Of Youth-soul, that has caught Beauty, un- aware.EULA LTE ee eee fe TO LOVE’S MASTER-SINGER When first the dream was vanished, ah, how drear The empty day, the night how joy bereft! Nothing the world held longer good or dear— Only the sad and bitter had Love left! My heart so ill cast all but grieving o’er, Nor sun nor moon nor stars took count to see; Silent it sat, behind a tight-shut door, And joyed that Bitterness cell-mate should be. Yet came your voice—immortal memory That sang Love ever—won or lost—to bring Sweet Beauty close. And I, your votary, I, too,—from grieving—lI at last shall sing! In song from sorrow so I too may find Love lives forever—dreams are of the mind!Picrtsrecebenecestecctettitittrctstiicite i LaSbsseiSPERESESLESESESESTESSLSESEES WHAT PRICE? What price forgetting? Joy a space, A moment’s rapture, Soul giv’n o’er, And then, more poignant than before, New agonies to face. What price rememb’ring? Heart-ache still, All barren days and empty night, But won through pain, new strength to fight, Old bitterness to kill.cE AU fu ATE oe MY LOVE WILL NAUGHT OF ME My Love will naught of me it seems, and so— Shall I retire, glooming, from her sight? What heed the sun how dark or drear the night? } What care to her how cold the wind may blow? Then shall I take my wounded heart and show The world how cruel its beloved Queen? How could I prove my hurt when all have seen Only her splendor? And her glory know? Perhaps if I should quiet wait, alone, And trust some day there will be need of me— A little weeping only, where no eyes can see— My Love will call me back, and so atone. When into quiet pools there falls the rain, The Sun hath need to draw it up again! 556 PETSBerserbcstctttretoctecesl BEESESERRESES GLIMPSE Once on a time, I saw Your half-shut eyes, and through them, deep In mirrored truth, far in your heart, beheld Sweet things asleep. Once on a time, I caught Your whispered voice, and in it, led By tender tone, deep in your soul, I heard Sweet words unsaid. Once on a time, I touched Your yielding lips, and on them, cold But trembling still, answer to mine, I felt Sweet dreams untold.a ri eiiait: Patstetcataseapeataeaia ace: " POTEET Stee tee right tis ietel iets SR erreste _ 7 “ Trt arta Tritt, Ss Trittth : EEE ERTHAT aASARAAED EAMAAAaLdAAA EAL AA MAAA AA SUALAIAA AAG AAAA LEA Ada AAU LUA ILLITE eee itty TO ONE DEAD Your softly curving throat, and the one spot Where seeking lips might rest at last, content, The lift of your dear eyes, your head, down-bent, Your heart against my own—these things are not forgot. And You—are where? . . . They say dead bodies rot And moulder to decay, that I sometime shall know Your soul, somewhere. I will not have it so! Your soul was never mine. I want it not. Only the warm and yielding flesh, that caught Answering life from mine, the fire that came From pulsing heart—these will not be the same If by some chance ’tis true—that death is naught. I cannot think a Christ could die to save A formless soul—when you are in the gravel 3 = = = eas = é, jareted By rarry = Gia faliad peisgaoyi aeiniet fet is 1 WONT iii (tietiagiieistesiiisias teTHISTLEDOWN Sang Love, the darling Sprite who knows all: Gossamer or hempen—fetters never bind. Where seek a girdle for the wind? (Oh, Luring Love, who beckons, dancing on) He holdeth not who holdeth, when all’s done | Who hath a blinder for the sun? (Sweet Love, still lingering, why make call?) Seek not a treasuring—moonbeams flee— How make a measure for the sea? Sang Love, the cruel Sprite—and was gone!ieaea7 id daddd $4841 88001 0 SH0Ud SHEAd EA add BAdadALGMDA Hdd HU Aad AS EGdS SHALE LULA LLL THLE Lee eee FLEUR JETEE Could you not guess—you of a thousand loves Yet fancy free— That of a thousand flowers, idly cast, one rose Must come to me? Could you not know, after the tale was told, The song complete— That of a thousand kisses, memory of one Would still be sweet? Will you not see—here, where I offer you, Its petals blown— Seed for another sowing, that your heart at last May claim its own? 3 PAI a eit eititiesiatestieiise ee eeT eer Ty PET Soe sTna ee Tae OPED TREES Tia UTED PoP eae eH ee Ma ets 1s SEL tEASALRAL Gee tad eo seat Seba de tease ot hen Aceh oa he tat ees B SSELTEOVELSIES 2 . cb ae + - aSe nrrerrerrrererrerrrrirrirrtrererrerirrrr rrr trrtireritecrer ters PEPETEETESTTTTETaTtCeTeiTeTreeet eat citereceeieeRinLelEeenLeeeEReeeeeee TPPATTDPUOAEEPEPERESSEREAPESESHESELSERESOURERS COREE EESEGDERESPEEDSESEEROESREROSESEOEESUUROEEDESESSEOEE Haiti siteieeiss ist i SWAMP There’s a dank marsh And brake between, Where strange birds nest Unseen There’s 2 black pit All brush be-spurred, Where strange beasts talk Unheard. | There’s a curst heart : Cast out alone, Hi There ghoul-loves dwell Unknown. LEE Cr REE Pere EET EET SSreS rey Ererrercerre * : — DIRtt eee EhPER ERE SRseeeReecee ee eeee SIRE EEETEESOSES ESE ERE ie La Tetra PEPESPEa TEP EEPEEEST TEPER EGER TEEPE EES PRET EEEEESET EEE EERE AGE EERE PESEFTEEPESPEREPBFOETRESPEE DC TerrercerstreterTtetErtrertitttrt esr erreera ert ) 'TO THE NEW SCHOOL There is no home for beauty any more In quatrain quaint, or sonnet sweet, or song Writ for the joy of singing, star-dust’s light Is all but dimmed forever, dreams belong Only in dreamland. Was there once a lad Who sang of birds and flowers in simple rhyme, And were there verses made to Beauty’s form And Youth Immortal, once upon a time? Where are the seekers for the song of gold They knew and loved? Ah, they, from ages past Have followed down the years, their spirit selves One with all singers, singing. So, at last We have renounced them, and the tale is told. Their song is ended, and the soul they gave Stifles and dies in darkness and despair, And poison taints the flowers around the grave. ater sy + eases tea ease SEGRSCEP SETHE PS ESS Se i Talis iiss sacs seas aseahstedtese aaa sesigitsisaaaese7 SORPEEE EER PER PPS ES EE SE FE Petre rere Pre se - 3 ¥ PESTS ee Tevoee eres EUSESKAE . SEREGERES? PEstSboreny BESEED EEE DCCOECEREBLSOLCS CAL ECEDERSEGECSEE SESS ERESEREEESECS Sea? ESSE BISERSEICSEDEESSEEESASESESEISEL BED-TIME When Mother takes away the light And leaves me all alone at night, I do not mind at all. And yet, I am so very small It seems as though I might. But listen, and I’ll tell you why— She lifts my curtain way up high, And so, most all the nights I can look out and see God’s lights All shining in the sky.Plsdetedicauededeatetes £332 ibis SAEHESAAASSAAHSUAAI UGA LGHdHUAAd AA cad adddd gL SU Hada ATL ELAHT HU ECO LLL HH ee eT eee Hts Yaka Basiiii qs PEE! BITTER-SWEET Alone, to dream of that which cometh not, Nor evermore will come; to know desire For the communion of the spirit fire That with a soul atune, I one time caught And held, a glorious captive in my heart— Ah, Memory, thou hast all too sweet a smart. To see the ghosts of dead ambition rise From ashes of despair and travail long, To suffer still the uncompleted song Struggling for birth, and where defeat now lies To raise, miraged, a triumph of the brain— Ah, Vision, stay, thou art so sweet a pain. $rajehaedenKEEPSAKES Sometimes, when I am all alone, I sit And dream of you, and count my keepsakes o’er: The way you smiled one day, how sweet you were In your new shyness, and the dress you wore The night I kissed you first; the way your door Could never seem to shut me from your love Or you from mine . . . Though we shall meet no more, And you are gone, and I am growing gray, I bless the picture keepsakes of my heart That only Death can ever take away. 3 + EERE EEPERE z FPrerE re Aes ESTEE EE ERUPETERESE ES EESSEEREEE TEPER ESTER ER EES ESE EEE EPETER EEE ERE EEEEE FERED PEED EET TEPER SEES Peet rirars Eo eLReher lease teehee eee re herete coarse Loe epies Sette eee RrasieaeGerciatciasiae $338 ert ititis ie aiaidais iad W HISPERINGS I. Rainy Dawn The night-smell of a fresh-dewed world, Across my window-pane, wet leaves; And gently through my sleep, the tap Of raindrops on the eaves. Il. Noon PEACE Beach swallows drift like lazy waves to shore, Cloud shadows on the marshland idly play, ‘The sun leans kindly to the silent sand, And Love and I sleep sweet through hot mid- day.Il]. SEA-WALL AT [TWILIGHT Old loves, lost loves, across the mists are calling, Half-forgotten dream-ships are drifting in from sea ; Heart-yearn, at sun-down, when the night is falling, Beacons home my argosies of echo-love to me. IV. MIDNIGHT The waves leap madly to the reaching shore, Under the moon the wind-tossed white caps fly; And in my heart is still the unbarred door, And in my soul is still the unheard cry. SET RT PRET ERTS REET TET FEE REET ETESE ERED PEE ESEESTE CPS EREFEEEERE EET ERT EES T TREE TEEFERE PEPER!Pade ties dieaeg Bees trieitieis stitaisiceteccaratiatigircrttsviaces Henerrereerereerrrre eee a ead Aidiabad saad lAdGi091994400 691 0985)444040) 4401085 §4484 044 5484109 12184 Ldd Had SHALASIATAATEA THA TG Lal IL LTT dciaia diac SPRING LOVER (FOR MUSIC) Sing ho, sing hey, On an April day When the wind blows where it will Oh must I love the old love still? When new buds spring And birds do sing, Sing hey! Sing ho, sing hey, On an April day When all around is new Must I to the old love still be true? When winter’s done New sap will run, Sing hey! Sing ho, sing hey, On an April day When all the world is freshly dresst Oh must I find the old love best? Ah no—ah nay— Oh not ’til May, Sing hey! Winco tadtsisodimeeaieasancnaasaa’ PTS TESTS STS TST Tae eta Tea TTT aaa rea erated ae eatsFETTTEeeTs tT TiiTTEREEEHELEGeEAEeHaTeatETERETEALEERERERERSERTOELLIGE REESEERT TEDEETEALEEEEAEEERELaEOSEitRtaeeccusraseateceseceeen | SLED ESLESLERDSRE REDD REESE RREESOSEESEELEREDETEDEE vin peee trate rcebeetetaes LEEERDEREREREESERSOSELESSSECESSEESSESECESES EES DSRERERORAES 5 ESELEGESSESSISEDSESEERE £ehi | DESIRE Torturing, soul-consuming fires that burn Against the mind’s stern reasoning: force unspent In the first passion of its wild intent, A flood-tide that must ever backward turn. Love? Glory? Power? Ambition? Bit of God? What, then, This gnawing hunger at the hearts of men? Leave me not, wonder-pain of mine, but keep Relentless hold upon the best of me, Lash me with whips of steel along life’s road Of work, nor let one time the check rein free For misspent vigor, lest I lose the goal— Surpassing peace, and an Immortal Soul.qiedeeiriiaieies aatdead pata taastestiaidtsaseaiiiseesiestist rity AiiAAIEASUUAGESIESEAAASSAASAASAIHL ATH LAiAgIAadeadeabadiuadebad Hai} steasaiyicalawiedicisci et iatteitriaiteaiaviaietiet ete Testi tt ei eT teet eet Tete ‘i PASARAASDSUARGSSEAALEAASSUSERGARAaEAREadSdaddATAAda;eadcddheaiiaataltiiiiiiitiit ee d IN EXILE Who has seen the little light that hangs beside the door, Swinging in the night wind and calling through the rain? It beacons to her hearthstone half the world and more, But for one the little light will never shine again. Who has heard the little tap of wooden knocker quaint, Thumping at the oak door and praying her to come? It answers to the bold hand, the weary and the faint, But for one the little knock forevermore is dumb. Who has known the joy and peace that dwell within her heart, Blessing every bitterness, sorrow, hurt or pain? All may share who enter, but for one there is no part, And to one no rest or peace can ever come again.ss AES ae oan : as _ re er eer TT TT ae eres eer ESE EES: Perretsttl ST TLORSREGReSTeeree SEETTTiCTtyY FEET OTRE LEE STTERTEEEELESESOECECEERE bee TETECSRGEESSEE PIEREDSEMPRERLERRCEL LE CRERDERTOERCAESSEOIEL ESSE CESS ECLEtstEceee FEEPEEREARBEEDES EEE ELERAEEERGARELERGORELERERECEDEOEREESESERESEEE EEASEREESESSAN ERESSESEPIEDED SER ELGESLSESSIERESEDS SSC EE i EES: { { | | 4 Ht) NO-MAN’S LAND Life is so sweet, with faith and love so fair, So big with hope, with heights to scale so grand, That, seated here in peace by ivyed wall, My heart grows cold at thought of “over there” Where misery and death forever call Through sunset skies, when evening shadows fall In No-Man’s Land. Death is so wonderful, with touch so sure Of purpose, though we cannot understand, That, visioning the souls as they pass by, I know them called to prove that faiths endure. ‘Tis all. No tears. I will not question why, But feel God’s blessing on them, as they lie In No-Man’s Land.Meage i iitiiieteaiedicieitstetestevtatetretaistrsertriti rete? Tatsits teieiaaitatate ERT EEREEG LEELA Haines ernie? SiAiGANAAAAAUAAAASA USASSESUNIEAESISSESSSNS/AAIAUH LALA EAILGd baad add edaN LUMA MHAAANEULANINHA HHI LUA LIL didLbsdte edd diledeatea tial (iiditiees ase te 744% seeeas etait i - PETS ELEISP PEEP Petes ty < coeey ens THERE IS ONE BOY There is one boy, somewhere in France today, One little boy I held with sheltering arm Against my heart, safe from all fear and harm, One little boy I guided in his play, And urged and praised in work. In France today There is one boy. There is one boy, somewhere today will fall, One boy, who, falling, will cry out my name, And I, who have the first, the mother’s claim, Must wait, while others hush his anguished call: The wounded tear my heart, but most of all There is one boy. There is one boy on some red field, tonight Lies still; one little boy whose race is run, Whose faith has triumphed, and whose goal is won. And be his cause the unworthy or the right, I thank Thee, O, my God, that in Thy sight There is one boy.| | s =e oe PeSbarsteccatscrstetuiteckstsicitecistceeelb E HHIEE PEEL AESIEEEESEESES| } — errr tT Te > meee tere ee det Cee ere eee eee eet et ESLER SSE BREE ELE EST teed LSUSTPERPMLSEESSEEREESESSECSELELESEESEGES Sikh gRIEE MORGUE Where fad loves sleep I sought in vain For the face I knew. Who claims: 1. The old man with the thin crooked nose And a mole on his right temple; 2 The five-feet-two female body without a head; (Plain ring marked “Mizpah” was found on one of the fingers) 3. The infant—male—with the disfiguring birth- mark; 4. The beautiful black haired boy who lies Like a sleeping faun; 5. The six bones with the watch, chain and stick- pin, Found when they razed the old Hotel Brighton; 6. The aged Jew with the yellow skin And three thousand in cash; 7, The woman they picked up on Tenth Avenue— Black and blue still—and seven gold teeth— Well preserved female of about thirty, it seems— 8. Various and sundry bundles—odd lots—odds and ends, as it were— The face I hunted for wasn’t there. ButI know . . . for I killed it Yesterday. 42Pete sea vaste ate em is tii ress s 48 aaeeead fateetey 7i3% . . eae = a iuueiHadd Sihdiadeas tds sisscsstassaaesiissediade: tarts! THE LEAST OF THESE In the rain—at midnight— Up the street and down— Through and around— And back again to the steps under the awning To watch— To touch a sleeve, timidly, And to plead in a low, hoarse voice For . . . Odd change, I thought, But when I went with my silver She hurried off. At last the car came and I got aboard But at the next block—and all the way home— I saw her again Still watching— Up the street and down— Through and around— A tired, lonely old prostitute— In the rain—at midnight.f | | i : corre = SRT e 4741 shoe bRES Reiesrereteel & SECTS Sr eee Tee ree he reer ose Tneeeha PEESERSEREES Ta et eee it: SPReGEEOE DAG ELOSERESERERDERDCES LSLEES SERGPSEGESRERRAEEDERSE Hibs PeRPSRR CSO EERE SER SEEFER EY Ett EDELBEEE: dl FY ON READING BROWNING’S “SAUL” With weary feet, sad eyes and empty heart Long time I journeyed aimlessly, somehow My soul, though seeking, missed the Vision, yet I glimpsed it through my sin. Dear God, and Thou, All pitying, gave me one moment when Through eyes of Thine elected, mine could see, And like to David, sudden I beheld’ The Christ stand free.treats: TTTTER FANTASIA Midnight . . . and city streets without are bright With voices gay and eyes agleam, and joy Of hurrying, good-natured theatre crowds Bound for the madness of the cabaret. Somewhere a murderer waits the call to die: A child is born; a young lad stirs in sleep; A fast express goes rushing through the night; And somewhere, on a snow-swept mountain top The lone wolf howls . . . Men toil in agony Against the overmastering wish to sleep . On silken cushions in an incensed room, White arms hold fast the burning heart of youth ~.-. While o’er the sick-bed of an injured lamb A shepherd watches wearily for dawn. Midnight !—all compassing! What life is yours! Human relationships of every form Take on new meaning in the magic night. I sit in darkness, with my window wide, Py 7 a tiaes oF : *% aisaiadaiieadaaiaiial| | | i . 3 , Pe eee eee th TPTTTTTTreetrrTiEsteterirTrRTTeereeese PPETeTTTTTTTTTTTTeTLiTeriititerteecieecEeeETeeeeEeeSeetteRoERechechocd battazee PEESELLOLELSEEEEESSSRESEESEREEEEEESEGERE LERESEERPRERUESGESLGEDEDSERS OOS DESESEUGERSOEASEOREISS ELGESEGRESEEESEEDSERCEE IRE | And gaze across the world, and in the smoke That floats so lightly from my cigarette I steal away. God! Jam that murderer Who waits for death! My soul? . . . Well, never mind, I am a care-free seeker after song And dance and laughter where the lights are bright . No, stay—what joyous agony is mine With the thin wailing of my first-born babe; Is this, then, life? . . . I would be wild and free To roam the lonely hilltops in the storm— A wolf, with jaws to kill . . . What sound was that That roused me from my dream? I thought just then My mother came to kiss me in my sleep, And now I’ll never find the golden chest I watched old Captain Kidd hide fast away. . . My love, how sweet it is to stroke your hair And lean upon your lips; let day ne’er come, For I would lie forever by your side And gaze, aflame; . . . So, little one, art better now? Then with the dawn we’ll take thee to the fold And put thee back to graze... . 46Sijedigieiiaietesfrseare tsar ataaereat ester et trite tte etree Tite TT eeT eT eet eT eee ee ee erreterert a veer eee aa jibad HAA NA ASAd aL GaANdETEG Gd L414441 00 44 444 dH 144109 03)84 Lil Bla da HALAL EEA LETTE ELAR Gd uiaieet ten tetiay : ag I am a part with it: Fluge iron wheels that pound o’er flashing rails, i And hissing steam and smoke and oil and Girt. | And the clean wash of water on the decks . A dizzy flight to earth from the great crag . . ., A tiny brooklet trickling neath the stones. Yet peace draw near, in stillness I would rest Beneath thy wings of light, with dawn forget That I am all the world—man, woman, child, Beast, bird and element—my vision closed But to the trifling duty of the day i And the command which gives the right to live: | : ‘One part thou playest; only one,” and so, i Playing that well, haply the time will come When earth and sky and air, ocean and wood, Fire and form and force will re-unite, And I, God-made anew, at last shall find A place in each, as all, and so shall know Soul’s peace, and immortality.} | " er er . P . Serer ers, HAT EhEESESRRESREAERIERELEES GES SETTTEEERSESEEEEEECTEOEEOEEER EES TEL etLaTETaal| SHEEREEEEESEDREEEESE i pehisse LEDGES BRODER EELEELEEEOE|[ BRALESENETTTTEES ETT rTretertrietrs Tie titttetititts ELEGEUDEREASLRERERUESEEAESEEDESILLLSESAES EPRASSLERLRELS JUST FOR YOU If life were all a happy holiday Of music, flowers, laughter, dance and song, How gladly I would take you by the hand And wander, care-free, through the wonderland Of joyous love, to which our lives belong. Since life is mostly real and work-a-day, With strife, goals unattained, disaster, wrong, Still would I have your hand in mine, to hold Along the road,—so, as the years unfold, Thus journeying, we might find the deeper song.saae hae WHEN FIRST SPRING BREEZES BLOW The years go by, once more alone When first spring breezes blow I walk my ways, but in my own Are phantom hands I know. It was in March, in Barrington, Along a Berkshire trail, That shy young first love sweet was won Among the wind-flowers pale. I tramped a road in Monterey With love, beside the sea, But ah, to hear what Spring might say She dared not stop with me. In Cheverie, on Easter day The Spring came back, to sing The old-new promise of the May For young hearts’ whispering. But Monterey was ne’er confessed, First love long since was fled, | There came long Winter, Spring unguessed, When Cheverie was dead. Once more, when first spring breezes blow I walk the years alone, But clinging, phantom hands I know Are clasped within my own.set terrtttrs Wepeverreverrerrrrerrrevrererrertrrrtrrrtectrcrrrtircrtrertcrrertrrrrcr icra thi taeperereseaetceceespeeseeeeaestenteoetee errr per sate ga EEEMLEEEE EERELLAPEAESEEREREEEL;OL ELSES PEEESESELGEAEESERREESPARREREORSBOEEERESSERERERAESERELOES GES EROEESEERIAE GREE EGESREGEELLEDEEELESERSAEEGAREEESIER S| IN MEMORIAM—No. 5716 ’Twas in a hospital for the insane I found Philosophy: . . . a small, frail woman Seated upon her bed, with her two hands Clasped dreamily in front of her, a light Of far-away, glad glory in her eyes. “Listen,” she called, as I passed by her cot, And, leaning toward me, opened her thin hands; “See, I’ve two jelly beans here, peppermint, Just what we used to eat when we were children. Listen! I shake them so, and can you hear The sound of horses’ hoofs upon the stones?” Again she shook them, and she smiled at me. “Oh, can you hear?” she cried. “I love them so! Of course I see they’re only jelly beans, But I can make them into horses’ hoofs That bear me flying off across the world!” I passed along my way and left her there,— A ‘happy human being. Who will say How many of us others, safe outside The walls that close her microcosm in, May sigh, and sighing, wish we too had faith In our own power to deal with jelly beans? SeParee RELEEEPET PETITE PEEEERER ERED ERE ET EEE TEREREE EERE TET EPET EEE DOebEe tS Peer CeeeePererecEeeereheleererer tee EEPAEeDe teehee ee teehee eesON ee ee ; f is : saisdedueaestatcecegsdeapeassiciriadt saeaiedieaaadisaisiaaeaaisiadind catcitadaitalisitiia ita tei eiiel tie tritateaterertee Crt ae a PEPFereerETESPtH TEP T eer ett TEeTEPUPETEHTET EET TEP ret eet EE TE edd RARGLSASAUAABAARSAGULALEAiGAIAdAaAD AGEL Lad EEA EUAALADAAA EARS AAT EADOAESSESEHATPEASEEETEST Tat ee gi say eadt “yee fe a i® | ‘ MY LITTLE SON My little son has black, black hair And eyes of blue, all unafraid; It seems that never anywhere Was such a lovely body made. My little son is good, and kind, And gentle, yet a boy to dare; Alert, with eager, seeking mind To know the game—to play it fair. My little son is shoulder free, His laugh has not yet touched with pain, For all life’s ills he brings to me— And I have kissed him whole again. My little son shall bear no load Until his strength is tried and sure, And then my love shall mark his road, My faith give courage to endure. And J shall live again in him When I am old, and life is done. . . : Ah, yes! The light would be less dim ie If I had had a little son. | Si| | | j PereHTerePrrrrrerrerrerrerreretrirertrr rrr err rrrreitrriiiTii tiie SFTTTETTTIFeTiTitTEPeTEEEEEEETGEOTETTREEeRS Lea TREaaeT ee SLEEETESEESELIELSELEALLILESAETEBERELEE AB ASESEEE REESE EU EABEERED GESERALLSEEGESGESESEPBESEEEESELSELL SESS HESEEEDELEEESESESN E REMORSE Whenever the gulls cry Odd little bits of memory Roll beachward. Inexorably they come— Borne on the flying spray— And snatch my brain when the wave breaks, Thundering its eternal insistence. Bt "eGinhe Waa ahisiiadiddadaisiiiiadaasaisiaiial Sate APRS ILIA IATL AT) ae BEES - eh 7 > j . = he ss at ae Eorrice etc Presheccctoceresresess ESERIES EL Loe ELEESEEPOPrenepeetprcrr recess FEFETESERPSEEDEPSEaERTeSterESeryE) TETINEETERT EOIN733? Nears x reicetetzire zy . Seidaeesidiaseelad fetrane! . 2 = a43e _ scdeveetSsecisitatcasctad LbddbaiHAaAadbtahaiad tea iatadindiaiaiaiiiil PRLGURLASSAUSASU SRR aa RS UALS TLad AA Aaddddaadneasdiadiadisaataatidiaiadd YOU NEVER KNEW You never knew that where you walked— Because I loved you so— Forget-me-not and mignonette Must there forever grow. You never knew that where you passed The heart’s-ease, hidden low, Lay crushed and bleeding—oh, my dear— Because I loved you so.| | | WRerrerer err eeererrrs Peerrrtrerrsrsrttreritrrirsrcretietriteted HLSLELEESTEGLLSDEGSEGASEGREIGESEGEE EES DUSREEEBS LE SULALESIERE MEMORIES. . . NEW YORK THE HARBOR It it a dream, or did I really see A fairy city, rising from the mist Of early morn? the ferries, and the white ships all sun-kissed ; And the huge buildings stretching to the sky, With pale smoke-wreaths like incense every- where— It seems Aladdin must have been at work For my delight, and traced it in the air! Hh Tuirp Ave. L—Sunpay One thing remains, intense, burned in my mind: Pale children’s faces in the scorching sun, Crowded at windows, penned in squalid rooms, Fighting for breath, themselves, food, bed, débris, all one; Women and men, like animals, sprawled out Upon the window-sills, all staring, mile on mile, Wearily wistful, hideously sad, Poignantly hopeless—God! Not one could smile! diac bo Ls etLELELLELESECLLILSELe Lessee i eise err eenstreeeg ist rerereeeeeeretertitreeyrett ety SEPTREIEEREDErerresctresress meses eros . REET TROL: PUPEESE SEL EcEReceLCurteercecreccticteecapereleee trees Crecerteetrterre etn ttte eam if ear % 5 Fe Ba seek bes lllFRAGMENT No sight, no sound, no written word, All silent, still the years go by; Yet there are greens beneath the snow That never die.| — —— ™ “ _ = me e op em = ? ~ THE MN ebeeeee Ae LiStELESSEEEESESESRERESEEES EFELELESEAEES Sia PEsPSESEESSOASEEDEE HESEESEEELREBSERER SEES PENDULUM What,—once again—before the work’s begun » Or living half made plain! While yet the glass would run Its sands in pain? Where then the end; and what the gain To~any God? If none, Why then a death be won Where death is vain! LEEPER FEET FREES ETEETES TEES TEESE TETES FETESERTETEEEEES FEEEEESEESE ETT ET ESTES ETET TEETER EEE ES ETE PETE EEESES EET ERCTES EETETEEEEEESEEDE CEE STRDeter hast teaiiitas caeaers SERASSURd 2570588 S58 sete e2e se aestbcectateteqtattagtateiietiseisieveistrietieitsietiatetts tte ttt tree etre Tete AAAAAALAALAUAASARALAAAaHEAAALSSUba ed Haa Ata aH AAA GD AH ITANA UUs LH GSHEE EAHA CHANGELING When I was young the bells sang, ‘‘Seek”’ And the wind called, Come”, And the world was mine. But I could not speak, For my heart was dumb. Now the bells are brass, the song is dead And the wind blows drear, | And the world is lost, though my heart out- pours, For no ears will hear.| | | FeboestretestetarnorearutReceuitenienotes TEEheERecECerSeEstyraeeechoeeicateseeseedy ie? EEDLRERGOEENPSHLAESERE AED EEREAGEEG POSEALSERSESUOBESEEASSEESIRAEESEEESLERSERSIEE EROS! POPPIES So sweet I sleep since I have sipped the cup Your lips made blessed; why then did you give Rose of delight to one, and lily pure? They live Each in your heart; and one is raised above By soul’s delight—and one has known your love. Yet I, beseeching also, found to sup But poppy dregs—I sleep, and yet forgive. PES EESEUEETEESEUEFSSESTEVENESTESETEETESELIEPELTEPERS [ Le EITE EEE FETESETEESELESTEELIISceeirretiry PEEPS ER ECERU ES TEEPCESESePEESeSeeesEStereerecersest ete crrrrsy rrr reese teametadeteapaaeaueciriitiieaisievies Srairicttiiats mate Ctaiasitsitai ariizsitaaiaiiitiiadiiiitt MESAALS ALAR AagAdASaibadasiadsaaacadiiadsasadadaaeediadieaa THE GOLDEN CIRCLE Come little knife-edged words again And cut so soon, so smoothly through The heart of me. Can it be you Not once foresense that wounds can pain? Or, since no error knows your name, No thoughtless act, nor fault to chide, Is it your perfectness rebels to hide Defect in me? Or do you find some shame In small deceit—even to succor Love? Alas! I would that love might sometime show In tolerance for failing, if ’twere so That Love could see, and yet itself would prove. But Love forgets—we kiss—and you are kind; —And Love sees not the scars—for Love is blind! {eeaieeiitieitatstiriiai sae AARURSRbd ass Added sad abegeios 3) es a j+34 eeteeei ies: § FETTSTEAPTEATESESLELELETEEETEEEEEEEPERESREEETESULIEEEEREEERTRA La: ERELRESEEELEREEBAURIE;SERESA AAS ROSAS EPESEEESS ESD SES ESDRESLERDELSEREERES| POEMS Your hands—sweet couplets held against my breast, A madrigal your laughter, lips uppres’t A pastoral of beauty. Triolet Your dancing feet and happy heart. But let All pass, so I may know at last as mine The perfect sonnet of your soul, sublime! sees os LTTSEESESESTESESETEEESLETESEEEIETESEETESESEESESEEETELEESEEEEEEETEEEIOTOTESTETETETETSESTETFEELEEETSETESEDESESSEETESERT ESE SEESES PEEDTS ESET EETESETEEEPYGMALION WAKES Perfect in beauty! Venus had been kind Beyond all hoping when she fashioned thee; Fairer in face or forming could not be, Nor anywhere such gracious sweetness find. Dear eyes—but lovely mirror of the god enshrined— Dear pulsing heart, so tender and so true, Soul ne’er before so fair an image knew, And ne’er such form so rare a soul defined. Low at her pedestal I knelt—in some strange dread Lest worship flee—I prayed my Loye be real: And swift the warm flesh stiffened: Soul unfed So quickly passes where truth sets a seal! Ah, Galatea—Thou the world hast shown So faira face! Love knows thee coldly stone!WASTE There was so much to do, the years so long,— Yet 1? I only made a little song. A little verse; was it two lines, or more? Somewhere, I know, it found an open door, Somewhere it dried a tear. Some mother smiled In some far place, and crooned it to her child. There was so much to do, the years so long,— Yet I? I only made a little song. SECEFEFEEDSFESEEETE r & : ESEESBEETLUSSESSOLSSa tro reerresesereesertercrepesrrecertectrereerererePereepESSPSEr PEELE ESTES TESEREELELEEER EES ES ERE EEEEE EEE err EeEEE 908 f 9 . amas p POOECEPEOEEEeErectErcerecetrtttertertestTiecereCAFSTF IITFRFERSESERSECREER TER ESETEETERE Eb tT PSECCELERERTeErceresEstrrrererr tity EFSECTSTESTEVEeT eter ritte yy RETEEEETSERTEy LELTERTETY EEE |. . : i eee |* ; + 53 2 : aSHEL LUIEIUEEREELERSE BUSES EERE 34 5 LI PSSESTSELETEETSEPLSPELSE PSPS TESTO ITE ESEFETUTERESUPEEOECEFLEEDTE ERED ETESEETECSTEPT TPEPSP SEL EP ESSER TEST ESEEEEEEPERER ER ER ESTEE -_ SECSERTET ESTES ETT ETEz aap heeead