Unrest (poems)

Front matter

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?§fi m s

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I. "And jasper, first :" To you, my king

I come, and, at your feee I kneel, and bring

To you my gift : such gems as make, so we are told,

The glories of that Land more manifold, —

And lay, from street to portal, its foundations, fair,

— Its streets pure gold, — the portals sloping there

One pearl ; — its walls of jasper : — jasper first, they say, Of all that City where is endless Day ! So, gath'ring, one by one, with woman's strength, and hand A-tremble with such treasure, — understand, —

— For woman's strength is small, but, tho' this be, her heart Endowed of gracious Heaven, seems, to do her part, — And, where her feet do falter in the ways

Of rough and daily-passing, — still the praise

Of her soul's wealth, in l>ewg woman, lies

Upon her lips ; — and, in her eyes

The tears of overgladness, as she lifts

And lays, as I do now, her holiest gifts

Upon the Altar where her king

Doth minister : — high-priest of love,

Toward whom the utmost of her being swift doth move

To prove the deep religion of her life, — to bring the sacrifice

of introspective hours, — To pour, bedewed w'th her heart's blood, the flowers

Her arms o'erflow, to cast them where the feet

— Of none save huii hath pressed : — the sacred aisles That lead from lintel to the chancel of his smiles ! — None other entereth in : — and dim and sweet

The light doth fall, — as if the peace of God

Lay quiet where his feet, — her jDriest's, — have trod.

II

And such is woman : — And so I — ■ — I, being woman, find within to lie,

— In soul and heart, the blest desire to give,

— To yield my votive off 'ring, and to live

As one who makes her life's religion her one aim; And so, my lord, since that and love's the same, Do know myself full true in soul and heart, — And something over-willing, then, to live such part As doth but make me worshipper and subject, too, Finding my lord, my king, high-priest, my all in you /

III

And, gathering, one by one, the gems were sought, I lay before you what my heart has brought :

— "And jasper, first." Of heaven the founding-stone : And, so, of love — for that, alone,

Means suffering : — When Heaven 's won

That must be ; — and love and Heaven are one.

— " The second, sapphire : " — that is peace. And love thro' pain at last finds its surcease. And so I 've followed, gem by gem ; — the years That slow have passed have held no lack of tears,

— Tho' secret, — since that man

Would not of woman's tears, since time began,

With patience j — and, so, by happy ways,

Methought, my life would gain your gracious praise ! — ■

Chalcedony, third : and thus throughout the list,

'Till, sweet reflection of them all, there shines the amethyst ! —

God's bow of promise is not more, —

Nor, yet, in woman's soul, her treasured store

Doth fain surpass this one : — Her promise, sweet,

— Her utmost faith, — her truth ! — Here, at your feet, I lay my jewels down : — your crov,-n's fair gems, — And, from the flowers, your feet to press, the stems

I 've thornless made, — See ! my hands bleed ! — But, in your face, my lord, I find my meed If you but smile ! — for pain is best To woman when there follows rest,

— Such rest as comes from love fulfilled, —

— Such peace as comes when all the pain is stilled !

— Yes, my hands bleed, — but women count their hours By blood-drops from their pulses spilled on flow'rs They pluck the thorns from, — that they lay

With tender hands beneath the feet of men they love, — the way

Of such was always so ; — 'tis sweeter so to prove ; —

I think that Christ, Himself, taught women how to love ! —

IV

And what I am is yours ! — and what I was,

Before mine eyes had rested on your face,

I have no mem'ry of, because

My soul knew neither time nor space ; —

For, what the world was e'er God bade the sun

To shine on chaos, seems my past, before that love begun

To cast its glory o'er me ! — O, my king.

My future lies without myself ! There is no thing

The wide earth holds for which 't were worth to live

Save this : Your love to take, and mine to give !

Do with me as you \yill, — I have no choice

But this : To be forever where your voice

May fall upon mine ears ; —

And where the light that 's on your face, thro' all life's years

May rest upon my own,

— I at your feet, and you upon your throne, —

Your throne my heart Reach forth your

hands, — The hour is late ! The swaying censer throbs its breath Of spiced sweetness on the dusky air ; — — ' Tis morning now in other lands, somewhere ! Somewhere ! Ah, me ! There is no thought of death !

— Reach forth your hands and lay them on my hair ! — Eternal morning ! and, no need for prayer !

I would to God to-night that we were there !

i6

Serenade,

See, as the shadows deep

Tenderly foil, Hark ! to his mate asleep,

The nightingale call !

II.

Sweet as the bee that sips,

Light as the swallow dips, Taste I as wine thy lips,

— Rarer than all.

III.

Now from my troubled breast

Banish alarms, — Low let me sink to rest

Love, in thine arms \ 17

Deatb,

A SONNET.

When some Beloved, unto us most dear,

Most sweet and kind, of all the world most true, Be taken from us, and we wander here

So full of grief we know not what to do, — When sound of other voices fails to wake

The old, rare bliss of days that have gone by, When each and every chord doth seem to break

In low and cadenced pleading, — like a sigh, — When that the songs are hushed that used to sing.

And life is like some bird with broken wing, — Then most like holding flowers that overflow

The tender hands, that plucked and loved them so, With dying fragrance, is the breath

Of that rare presence passing life to death.

failure.

There are seeds that were blossoms of beauty,

That I hold in my hands here to-night.

And I stand in the pathway of duty

With my face upward- turned to the light Of God's stars, and I think of the treasure

I hold, — that will be in exquisite measure, — When, lo ! 'midst earth's shadows of wo,

Half the seeds are blown far and are scattered By the light winds that over them go, —

Shall I say, sometime, that it mattered That the seeds I intended to sow,

Drifted out from my impotent keeping Into far better soil at the last,

Than I, in my heavy heart-sleeping.

In my weakness could ever have cast ? —

When sometime, in some fairer morning, On the other side of the sea,

I shall stand with my face t'ward the dawning Of the day of Eternity,

And look t'ward the land overflowing, — In richest abundance replete.

Shall look on the flowers there growing So near the Redeemer's dear feet,

Will it be with a wistful regretting — With the hot tears obscuring ray sight? 19

Looking back on the weakness besetting My heart, as I stand here to-night ?

Or shall I know the fair flowers supenial,- Know them as mine, and then rest,

When He lifts them in beauty eternal, And lays them, in love, on His breast? 20

XTbe Clou^ witb tbe Silver Xining.

Last night, as the sunset faded

Out of the skies in the west, I sat by the firelight, thinking

The thoughts that I love the best, And weaving a bit of a fancy

Into a bit of a rhyme, Founded upon a story

That I'd read somewhere, some time

How once a little maiden

Made a quest for the strangest thing, A good deal like the hunting

For the hiding-place of spring.

Or a search in the throats of the robins

For the first sweet notes they sing !

The story, as I remember.

Told of a rainy day.

And the maiden growing tired

And restless at her play, — Told how, at the close of the daylight,

She wandered out and away.

Away 'twixt the drops of water

Coming out of the low'ring sky. ** I think I can go and not get wet ;

But anyhow, I '11 try!"

"But where are you going, darling?"

They asked ; and she answered low : " Over the hills to find the cloud

That is silver-lined, you know ! "

Over the hills and through the woods,

And across the rivulet's bed, And over the meadows, where, in spring.

The violet lifts its head,.

And on t'ward the dawn where the morning lark

Is singing his praise to the newborn day. And up where the sky bends down to the hills

At the coming of eve, alway.

But ever afar the clouds lay low.

As far as could see the human eye ; And at last of a traveler, bent and old,

The maiden asked with a sigh : " Can you tell me the way to the silver-lined cloud,

And what pathway leadeth by?

Do you think that I could reach it to-night

If ever so hard I should try?

I have asked the trees and the flowers and grass,

And the birds and the running stream.

And they all said * Yes, they had seen it pass

But 'twas only seen m a dream.' "

" Your journey lies my way, my dear.

And your feet are weary and sore : If you '11 lay your head on my shoulder here, You need not walk any more !

And I '11 carry you safe to the home that lies

Just across on the opposite shore : To the shore that lies beyond the sea

Whose waters glitter and glisten, Where the music is sweet as music can be —

You can scarce hear it now, if you listen ; But just over there where the sea touches shore,

And the radiant sun is shining, Where the light begins and the dark is o'er.

Lies the cloud with the silver lining ! "

So he lifted her up, and lay her head So close to his own so hoary. *'I'm Father Timer' he softly said, "And yours is life's olden story."

So she lay in peace and watched the gleam

Of the sails out on the ocean.

Till her eyes closed fast, and so, to dream. She was cradled to sleep by the motion. So she slept ; and she dreamed that the boat touched shore, — And she thought of the silver lining, — At the sound she awoke— the morning had broke, And the golden sun was shining.

And so 't was a dream, and she only a child,

I thought as I sat in the firelight there —

A child whose life was undefiled,

And whose heart unacquainted with care, 23

But between the lines of the childish tale

Runs the story of every day : Of restless hearts, and hopes that fail.

And at last the going away, Asleep, like the child worn out with life's quest ;

And, too, like the child, resigning, O'er the ocean of time we drift and rest, —

And awake on the Shore Where the ocean's breast

Meets the cloud with the silver lining. 24 nt

If we had known before the flowers perished,

And chill and cold the darkness came at last, Before was gone the warmth our souls had cherished,

And lighi and fragrance mingled with the past ; If had been proved what sweetness of thanksgiving

Could burst from solitary harps that still have lain. Before had passed the glory of our living,

And rarest bliss had given place to pain —

If, through the silence of these weary hushes. The thought of past time music had not come,

And to our lips had memory sent no sudden flushes To mark the old-time kisses of the lips now dumb, —

If this had been — and, to our restless spirits.

The past had granted not some blessed days — If all things sweetest that our life inherits

Had passed without the limits of our common ways — I wonder if our hearts could still sing of God's glory —

While with our tears the sweet, sad sight were dim — Or if, recounting all the olden story,

Our human lips were mute in praise of Him ?

What matters it, since not one note of sweetness But answers 'neath the touch of God's own hand ? 25

Since that, that seems a lack of life-completeness, Is but our heritage within this Better Land ?

— Albe the earth- time noises hush the sweeter strain Of harp and lute that all too silent lay —

Albe that to our longing sight comes not again The fairer light that's hid in sudden day !

But yet our lips are so athirst for life's rare wine ! — And yet our hearts so long for earth-time music grown divine !- And still from hushed harps God gives no sign !

H 1bear& Sweet Sounds.

I heard sweet sounds, and lo ! thy voice was brought

Unto my soul on the white wings of thought ;

The voice that mem'ry's sweet, sad self hath sought.

A tiny flower breathed upward from its dewy bed,

And to my hungry heart my soul hath said :

" It is his voice that breathed in days that dawned and fled.

I dreamed a dream : that I, in Paradise,

Awakened to a glad and sweet surprise.

When that my soul found grace within thine eyes.

And, back to-day the breaths of violets blow,

— Warm with the sweet south wind of long ago,

The sweetness of the days I used to know. 27

Ifii /IDemoriam.

[As published in New York World.]

With pulseless hands enfolded on the silent breast, He lies asleep in sweet, eternal rest :

No more for him the count of earthly days to be, Who now has fathomed God's divinest mystery.

Love dareth not to even question why,

But feels how sad a thing it was for him to die, —

For whom Love's pallid lips make constant moan, — Grief's sweeter self, that, silent, sits alone

With her own great and solitary woe

That only God can understand and know ; —

For those he loved, long nights and weary days : For him, glad paeans of immortal praise.

And sudden brightness of life's morrow blend Li sweet, eternal calm that knows no end.

For those he loved, no praise of worthy deeds Can fill the weary lack of sacred needs.

For him, availeth not the mete of praise or blame. Since that he Hstened and heard God call his name !

Beneath the fainting forms of those who wait This side the fair and heavenly Gate,

Still lies the strong protection of his creed.

And th' Everlasting Arms in hours of helpless need.

Ifncompleteness.

One sou! against the flesh of all mankind.

I.

I dream of the strains of a soft-tuned lyre

In a wordless song of sweetness

That fills my heart with its passion fire,

And my soul with incompleteness ; —

I listen in vain for a word of the lay,

As each throb of the music closes, —

But the sweet, deep meaning is hid away,

As the fragrance concealed in the rose is !

II.

I dream of the song of a twilight bird, —

And its melody, richer and rarer

Than aught in the world thro' life I've heard.

And the songster than morning is fairer : — ■

But I think how the sunset's tint and glow,

And the tiny bird that 's nested

Within my bosom's drifted snow,

Bring no more of peace than the rest did !

III.

And I know that in vain, of bird and lute.

The far, sweet echo hngers, —

Of the bird's song hushed, and the lyre mute,-

Uncaressed by Love's dear fingers, —

And I ponder life's wonderful, wordless lay, —

And still long for the blissful sweetness

That I know is hidden far away

Somewhere in God's completeness ! 29

Jerusalem tbe 6ol&en,

" And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day, for there shall be no night there."

I.

We stand outside of the gates — the gates of the city of God — And long for a gUmpse of its streets — the streets which no mortal

hath trod.

Some glory falls over our path, as much as He deemeth is best ; Its foundations o'ershadow our ways, as the shade of a marvellous

rest.

Yes, outside of the walls and the gates, whereby there entereth in Only whom He hath called by name — only whom He hath cleans(^d

from sin ; We wait in the place of His presence, so near to the foot of the

throne.

And are filled with the blest contemplation of wonders and glories

unknown !

II.

O, Jerusalem ! beautiful city ! what stones of fair colors are thine ! I would the sv.'eet signification of all thy foundation were mine ! Thy name o'er the tide of the human wings its way as of old did

the dove — With its message of heavenly mercy, of safety, of wonderful love ; Thou liest in beauty so tranquil — so fair in unspeakable grace, That souls, in beholding, have slumbered to wake to the light of

His face !

We wait outside of the gates — the gates of the city of God ! And look back o'er the ways of life's journey — the ways that we,

weary, have trod — Till we've paused when the sound of far waters with jubilant music

was rife, And dreamed 'twas the flow of the river — theRiver of Water of Life!

III.

A twilight of rest at the noontide, a mingling of darkness and light, A sound as of whispering breezes in trees that are just out of sight ; And v/e know 'neath His wings is a shadow, a shade from the

wearisome heat.

That the trees for the healing of nations are dropping their fruits

at the feet Of those who will gather them freely — the fruits that are golden

and fair — That river, and refuge, and twilight, all, even the healing, are

there ; A twilight that meaneth not nightfall — a glory that meaneth the

Lamb !

O, Jerusalem ! fairest of cities, that showeth me just what I am !

rv.

We wait outside of thy gates, and long for a glimpse of thy

streets.

For the portals whereby we ma,y enter, and, ent'ring, find rest at

His feet ;

To breathe out our souls from the mortal, and know that 't were

praising Him so — To touch but the hem of the garment that cleanseth us whiter

than snow !

We wait outside of thy walls, Jerusalem, city of God, And long for a gUmpse of thy streets — the streets which no

mortal hath trod ; Thy glory falls over our path, as much as He deemeth is best ; Thy foundations o'ershadow our ways, as the shade of a; marvellous

rest !

i[f Me Coum mnow!

I.

Do souls grow weary with their longing over there,

In that fair Land departing spirits seek? Do wistful eyes close in the raptured prayer

For that which wistful hearts bespeak?

And shall we there behold the sweet fulfilling

Of cherished dreams we love to dream below ? I sometimes think, if God were only willing,

How sweet would be the knowledge, — could we know !

II.

Is it vain-dreaming that the snowy buds of earth,

On which hath smiled its sunlight incomplete, — In the sunshine of His face shall have new birth.

And open radiant blossoms at His feet?

Will human love, that could not know completeness,

In bonds of human-forming here below, Be ours in all the dear and olden sweetness

That oft our hearts have been a-thirst to know?

III.

If we could know of the waking over There, .

— The ending of our conflict here, —

That all were to be ours, — the burden of each prayer, —

— All our hungered souls have deemed most dear !

But beyond the flowing of the River

The mountain-tops are bright with richer glow, — — No need of shade to hide the pain and quiver

We vainly strive to bury here below ! — And we shall leave all baneful weight of unbelief

To wander by the streams that crystal flow Among the meadows, fresh with bud and leaf,

— More beautiful than earth can know, -^ ShaU linger at His feet, — and near Him dwell,

— Beholding all the glories of that promised land. And look, in peace, o'er all that He deemed best.

And know what now we could not understand. 34

Jealous !

I.

To see the sunlight fall upon his head,

And leave its smiles and kisses nested there — To feel the earth astir beneath his tread,

To know his step has even rested there ; — II.

To know the shadowed Night enfolds him, hour by hour,

And lays her touch upon him — head and heart — And holds him, in her sweet voluptuous power,

From brow to feet, from all the world apart ;

HI.

To know that all the sweet, warm flesh is hers. And that he lies and dreams beneath her kiss, —

That all the dusky hours are her interpreters. And that / am shut out from all such bliss !

IV.

To know he sleeps within her bosom clasped tight, So close she feels his heart-throbs on her own,

— To lie awake and think of such things out of sight And to the world give neither sigh nor moan !