Poetry

Beautiful Eyes

Eyes like the violet—in them I see
All that is fair, that is holy to me!
Eyes that shed fragrance, so constant, so true,
Pure as a clear drop of morning dew.

Eyes like the violet, gently along
Lead me to vespers—to prayer and to song.
Eyes like the violet, let me I pray
Live within range of thy glances all day!

Fame

Through the land of tribulation,
O’er the river of despair,
When the taut heart snaps with tension,
Fame awaits you, smiling there.

After love has all been wasted,
After every song is sung;
Late—too late, the world will crown you,
Useless! Love and song are done.

The Final Strain

I climbed the craggy hill of fame,
Heart-sore and wearily,
Stood on her gleaming goal at length,
And sighed in ecstasy.

“O God,” I cried, “what bliss”—when lo!
Came stealing like a pall,
The strains of Life’s Last Symphony,
In Prelude, to—the call.

Heritage

Happy youth in joyous laughter,
Wafts me pensively alone
O’er the winding way, where sorrow
Claims the Mantled for her own.

I can hear their voices ringing
Down the corridor of years,
As they lift their twilight faces,
Through a mist of falling tears!

The Heart of a Woman

The heart of a woman goes forth with the dawn,
As a lone bird, soft winging, so restlessly on,
Afar o’er life’s turrets and vales does it roam
In the wake of those echoes the heart calls home.

The heart of a woman falls back with the night,
And enters some alien cage in its plight,
And tries to forget it has dreamed of the stars
While it breaks, breaks, breaks on the sheltering bars.

The Dreams of the Dreamer

The dreams of the dreamer
Are life-drops that pass
The break in the heart
To the soul’s hour-glass.

The songs of the singer
Are tones that repeat
The cry of the heart
’Till it ceases to beat.

Gossamer

The peerless boon of innocence,
The first in nature’s list,
Is fading, ere the rising sun
The world awake has kist.

The early dew upon the grass,
The purity of morn,
The glint that lies in virgin cheek,
Frail cobwebs—of the dawn.

Sympathy

My joy leaps with your ecstasy,
In sympathy divine;
The smiles that wreathe upon your lips.
Find sentinels on mine:

Your lightest sigh I’m echoing,
I tremble with your pain,
And all your tears are falling
In my heart like bitter rain.

Contemplation

We stand mute!
No words can paint such fragile imagery,
Those prismic gossamers that roll
Beyond the sky-line of the soul;
We stand mute!

Dead Leaves

The breaking dead leaves ’neath my feet
A plaintive melody repeat,
Recalling shattered hopes that lie
As relics of a bygone sky.

Again I thread the mazy past,
Back where the mounds are scattered fast—
Oh! foolish tears, why do you start,
To break of dead leaves in the heart?

Dawn

Trailing night’s sand-sifted stars,
Rainbows sweep, as day unbars,
Fragrant essences of morn,
Bathe humanity—new-born!

Elevation

There are highways in the soul,
Heights like pyramids that rise
Far beyond earth-veilèd eyes,
Sweeping through the barless skies
O’er the line where daylight dies—
There are highways in the soul!

Peace

I rest me deep within the wood,
Drawn by its silent call,
Far from the throbbing crowd of men
On nature’s breast I fall.

My couch is sweet with blossoms fair,
A bed of fragrant dreams,
And soft upon my ear there falls
The lullaby of streams.

The tumult of my heart is stilled,
Within this sheltered spot,
Deep in the bosom of the wood,
Forgetting, and—forgot!

Whither?

Minutes swiftly throb and pass,
Shadows cross the dial-glass,
Speeding ever to some call,
Weary world and shadows, all.

Down the closing aisles of day,
Tramping footsteps die away,
But no tidings thread the gloom,
From the hushed and silent tomb.

Quest

The phantom happiness I sought
O’er every crag and moor;
I paused at every postern gate,
And knocked at every door;

In vain I searched the land and sea,
E’en to the inmost core,
The curtains of eternal night
Descend—my search is o’er.

Mate

Our separate winding ways we trod,
Along the highways, unto God,
Unbonded by the clasp of hand,
Without a vow—we understand,
Estranged for aye, the fusing kiss,
Omnipotent, we bide in this—
They need no trammeling of bars
Whose souls were welded with the stars.

Emblems

A wordless kiss, a stifled sigh,
A trembling lip, a downcast eye,
“Alas,” they say,
“A-day, a-day,”
The cruse has failed, the lamp must die!

Mirrored

When lone and solitaire within your chamber,
With lamp unlit, as evening shades unroll,
If you reveal the trail your thoughts are taking,
I then may read the riddle of your soul.

For it is then, the tired mind unveiling,
Drifts stark into the holy after-glow,
Within the hour of quiet meditation,
The tidal thoughts, like limpid waters, flow.