xt77m03xsr05 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt77m03xsr05/data/mets.xml Rice, Cale Young, 1872-1943. 1910  books b92-280-32596657 English Doubleday, Page & Co., : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Song-surf  / by Cale Young Rice. text Song-surf  / by Cale Young Rice. 1910 2002 true xt77m03xsr05 section xt77m03xsr05 














SONG-SURF

 
















By the Same Author


   Nirvana Days
 Yolanda of Cyprus
 A Night in Avignon
 Charles di Tocca
       David
    Many Gods

 





SONG-S URF


         BY

  CALE YOUNG RICE



      NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
       MCMX

 









































ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION

INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGFS, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN


COPYRIGHT, 1970, BY DOlUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

           PUBLISHED, SEPTEMBER, 1910

 




















    TO

MY SISTERS

 This page in the original text is blank.

 
















            FOREWORD

  These poems, first published as " Song-
Surf " in i900, by a firm which failed before
the book left the press, were republished
with additions as the "lyrics" of "Plays &
Lyrics," by Hodder & Stoughton, of Lon-
don, in I 905. Revision and omissions have
been made for this volume of a uniform
edition in which they now appear.

 This page in the original text is blank.

 





CONTENTS



WITH OMAR

JAEL  .   .
TO THE SEA
THE DAY-MOON
A SEA-GHOST
ON THE MOOR
THE CRY OF EVE .
MARY AT NAZARETH
ADELIL       .
INTIMATION
IN JULY
FROM ABOVE

BY THE INDUS
EVOCATION .
THE CHILD GOD GAVE
THE WINDS

TRANSCENDED
LOVE'S WAY TO CHILDHOOD
AUTUMN

SHINTO       .
MAYA .    .



                  PAGE

                      3


                    22

                    25
                 27
                    29

                  31

                    35
                    38
                  40

                    41
               44

              P  45
                47
                    49
                    51
                  54
                55
               57
                    58
                    6o
ix

 




CONTENTS



A JAPANESE MOTHER
THE DEAD GODS.

CALL TO YOUR MATE, BOB-WHITE

THE DYING POET
THE OUTCAST   .

APRIL

AUGUST GUESTS .

TO A DOVE.    .

AT TINTERN ABBEY

OH, Go NOT OUT

HUMAN LOVE    .

ASHORE    .   .

THE VICTORY   .

AT WINTER'S END

MOTHER-LOVE   .

TO A SINGING WARBLER

SONGS TO A. H. R.:
    I. THE WORLD'S, AND MINE
    II. LOVE-CALL IN SPRING
  III. MATING .
  IV. UNTOLD .
  V. LOVE-WATCH
  VI. AT AMALFI
  VII. ON THE PACIFIC

THE ATONER    .   .

TO THE SPRING WIND.

THE RAMBLE    .   .
RETURN    .   .   .

LISETT'E  .       .



            PAGE
              62

        .. 64
              68

              70

         .73
        .. 76

            78

             79


              83

   .  .     85
              86

              88

           . 89
              91

            93


            95
              96
          97
              98
            99
         ..99
    ..   .  101

    ..   . 103

    ..   . 104

  .   .   .  I05

        . IO8
          . III

 





CONTENTS



FROM ONE BLIND

IN A CEMETERY

WAKING    .

STORM-EBB .

LINGERING

FAUN-CALL .

THE LIGHTHOUSEMLAN

SERENITY  .

WANTON JUNE

SPIRIT OF RAIN

TEARLESS  .  .

SUNSET-LOVERS .

THE EMPrY CROSS

UNBURTHENED   .

To HER WHO SHALL COME

STORM-TWILIGHT .



SLAVES         .

AVOWAL TO THE NIGHTINGALE

BEFORE AUTUMN .

FULFILMENT     .

LAST SIGHT OF LAND .

SILENCE   .   .



                  PAGE
   .   .   .   .  1 1 3

   .  .   .   .  114


   .   .   .   .  II6
          . . II7

   .   .   .   .  II9

   .   .   .   .  121

         .   .  I23

   .      .    125

                  127

      .   .   . 129

                  131

                  133

              '35

              137

                  139

      .   .   .  I42

                   143

                  I44

                  147

                  I49

           '5'

                  53



xi

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SONG-SURF

 This page in the original text is blank.

 


WITH OMAR



I SAT with Omar by the Tavern door,
Musing the mystery of mortals o'er,
  And soon with answers alternate we strove
Whether, beyond death, Life hath any shore.



"Come, fill the cup," said he. "In the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling.
  The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter - and the Bird is on the Wing."



"The Bird of Time" I answered. "Then have I
No heart for Wine. Must we not cross the Sky
Unto Eternity upon his wings -
Or, failing, fall into the Gulf and die"

                      3

 

SONG-SURF



"Ay; so, for the Glories of this World sigh some,
And some for the Prophet's Paradise to come;
   But you, Friend, take the Cash - the Credit leave,
 Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!"



 "What ! take the Cash and let the Credit go
 Spend all upon the Wine the while I know
   A possible To-morrow may bring thirst
 For Drink but Credit then shall cause to flow"



 "Yea, make the most of what you yet may spend,
 Before we too into the Dust descend;
   Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
 Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End I"



 "Into the Dust we shall descend -we must.
 But can the soul not break the crumbling Crust
   In which he is encaged To hope or to
 Despair he will - which is more wise or just"



4

 

SONG-SURF



"The worldly hope men set their hearts upon
Turns Ashes -or it prospers: and anon,
   Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
 Lighting a little hour or two - is gone."



 "Like Snow it comes - to cool one burning Day;
 And like it goes - for all our plea or sway.
   But flooding tears nor WVine can ever purge
 The Vision it has brought to us away."



 "But to this world we come and Why not knowing,
 Nor Whence, like water willy-nilly flowing;
   And out of it, as Wind along the waste,
 We know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing."



 "True, little do we know of Why or Whence.
 But is forsooth our Darkness evidence
 There is no Light - the worm may see no star
Tho' heaven with myriad multitudes be dense."



5

 

SONG-SURF



"But, all unasked, we're hither hurried Whence
And, all unasked, we're Whither hurried hence
  0, many a cup of this forbidden IVine
Must drown the memory of that insolence."



"Yet can not -ever! For it is forbid
Still by that quenchless Soul within us hid,
  Which cries, 'Feed - feed me not on Wine alone,
For to Immortal Banquets I am bid.' "



"Well oft I think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Cxsar bled:
  That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her lap from some once lovely Head."



"Then if, from the dull Clay thro' with Life's throes,
More beautiful spring Hyacinth and Rose,
  Will the great Gardener for the uprooted soul
Find Use no sweeter than-useless Repose"



6

 

SONG-SURF



" We cannot know - so fill the cup that clears
To-day of past regret and future fears:
  To-morrow/ -Why, To-morrow we may be
Ourselves with Yesterday's sev'n thousand Years."



"No Cup there is to bring oblivion
More during than Regret and Fear-no, none6
  For Wine that's Wine to-day may change and be
Marah before to-rr )rrow's Sands have run."



"Mlyself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument
  A bout it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same Door where in I went."



"The doors of Argument may lead Nowhither,
Reason become a Prison where may wither
  From sunless eyes the Infinite, from hearts
All Hope, when their sojourn too long is thither."



7

 

SONG-SURF



" Up from Earth's Centre thro' the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the throne of Saturn sate,
  And many a Knot unravelled by the Road-
But not the Master-knot of Human fate."



" The Master-knot knows but the Master-hand
That scattered Saturn and his countless Band
  Like seeds upon the unplanted heaven's Air:
The Truth we reap from them is Chaff thrice fanned."



" Yct if the Soul can fling the Dust aside
A nd naked on the air of Heaven ride,
  Wer't not a shame - wer't not a shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide "



"No, for a day bound in this Dust may teach
More of the Sdki's Mind than we can reach
  Through eons mounting still from Sky to Sky -
May open through all Mystery a breach."



8

 

SONG-SURF



" You speak as if Existence closing your
Account, and mine, should know the like no more;
  The Eternal Sikifrom that Bowl has poured
.Mfillions of bubbles like us, and will pour."



"Bubbles we are, pricked by the point of Death.
But, in each bubble, may there be no Breath
  That lifts it and at last to Freedom flies,
And o'er all heights of Heaven wandereth"



" A moment's halt - a momentary taste
Of Being from the Well amid the Waste-
  And Lo -- the phantom Caravan has reached
The Nothing it set out from - Oh, make haste!"



"And yet it should be - it should be that we
Who drink shall drink of Immortality.
The Master of the Well has much to spare:
Will He say, 'Taste'- then shall we no more be"

 

SONG-SURF



" The Moving Finger writes; and having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
  Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all your tears wash out a word of it."


"And were it other, might we not erase
The Letter of some Sorrow in whose place
  No truer sounding, we should fail to spell
The Heart which yearns behind the mock-world's
    Face "


"Well, this I know; whether the one True Light
Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me, quite,
  One flash of it within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright."



"In Temple or in Tavern 't may be lost.
And everywhere that Love hath any Cost
  It may be found; the Wrath it seems is but
A Cloud whose Dew should make its power most."



IO

 
SONG-SURF



"But see His Presence thro' Creation's veins
Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains;
  Taking all shapes from .lah, to Afahi; and
They change and perish all - but He remains."



"All - it may be. Yet lie to sleep, and lo,
The soul seems quenched in Darkness -is it so
  Rather believe what seemeth not than seems
Of Death - until we know - until we know."



"So wastes the Hour - gone in the vain pursuit
Of This and That we strive o'er and dispute.
  Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit."



"Better - unless we hope that grief is thrown
Across our Path by urgence of the Unknown,
  Lest we may think we have no more to live
And bide content with dim-lit Earth alone."

 

SONG-SURF



" Then, strange, is't not  that of the myriads who
Before us passed the door of Darkness through
  Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too "



"Such is the Ban! but even though we heard
Love in Life's All we still should crave the word
  Of one returned. Yet none is sure, we know,
Though they lie deep, they are by Death deterred."



"Send then thy Soul through the Invisible
Some letter of the After-life to spell:
  And by and by thy Soul returned to thee
But answers, 'I myself am Heaven and Hell.'"



"From the Invisible, he does. But sent
Thro' Earth, where living Goodness tho' 'tis blent
  With Evil dures, may he not read the Voice,
'To make thee but for Death were toil ill spent'"



I2

 

SONG-SURF



"Well, when the Angel of the darker drink
At last shall find us by the river-brink
  And offering his Cup invite our souls
Forth to our lips to quaff, we shall not shrink."



"No. But if in the sable Cup we knew
Death without waking were the wilful brew,
  Nobler it were to curse as Coward Him
Who roused us into light - then light withdrew."



" Then Thou wio didst with pitfall and with gin
Beset the Road I was to wander in,
  Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round
Enmesh, and then impute my fall to sin."



"He will not. If one evil we endure
To ultimate Debasing, oh, be sure
  'Tis not of Him predestined, and the sin
Not His nor ours - but Fate's He could not cure."

 

SONG-SURF



" Yet, ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rosel
That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close
  The Nightingale that on the branches sang,
Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows "



"So does it seem -no other joys like these!
Yet Summer comes, and Autumn's honoured ease;
  And wintry Age, is't ever whisperless
Of that Last Spring, whose Verdure may not cease"



"Still, would some winged Angel ere too late
Arrest the yet unfolded roll of Fate,
  And make the stern Recorder otherwise
Enregister, or quite obliterate I"



"To otherwise enregister believe
He toils eternally, nor asks Reprieve.
  And could Creation perfect from his hands
Have come at Dawn, none overmuch should grieve."



14

 

                  SONG-SURF                   15

So till the wan and early scent of day
We strove, and silent turned at last away,
  Thinking how men in ages yet unborn
Would ask and answer - trust and doubt and pray.

 

JAEL



JEHOVAHI JehovahI art Thou
  not stronger than gods of the heathen
I slew him, that Sisera, prince
  of the host Thou dost hate.
But fear of his blood is upon me,
  about me is breathen
His spirit - by night and by day
  come voices that wait.


Athirst and affrightened he fled from
  the star-wrought waters of Kishon.
His face was as wool when he swooned
  at the door of my tent.
The Lord hath given him into
  the hand of perdition,
                 z6

 

SONG-SURF



I smiled - but he saw not the face
  of my cunning intent.



He thirsted for water: I fed him
  the curdless milk of the cattle.
He lay in the tent under purple
  and crimson of Tyre.
He slept and he dreamt of the surge
  and storming of battle.
Ah ha! but he woke not to waken
  Jehovah's ire.



He slept as he were a chosen
  of Israel's God Almighty.
A dog out of Canaan! - thought he
  I was woman alone
I slipt like an asp to his ear
  and laughed for the sight he
Would give when the carrion kites
  should tear to his bone.



' 7

 

SONG-SURF



I smote thro' his temple the nail,
  to the dust, a worm, did I bind him.
My heart was a-leap with rage
  and a-quiver with scorn.
And I danced with a holy delight
  before and behind him -
I that am called blessed o'er all
  unto Judab born.



"Aye, come, I will show thee, 0 Barak,
  a woman is more than a warrior,"
I cried as I lifted the door
  wherein Sisera lay.
"To me did he fly and I
  shall be called his destroyer-
I, Jael, who am subtle to find
  for the Lord a wayl"



  Above all the daughters of men
  be blest-of Gilead or Asshur,"



I8

 


SONG-SURF



Sang Deborah, prophetess, then, from
  her waving palm.
"Behold her, ye people, behold her
  the heathen's abasher;
Behold her the Lord hath uplifted-
  behold and be calml



"The mother of him at the window
  looks out thro' the lattice to listen -
Why roll not the wheels of his chariot
  why does he stay
Shall he not return with the booty
  of battle, and glisten
In songs of his triumph -ye women,
  why do ye not say"



And I was as she who danced when
  the Seas were rended asunder
And stood, until Egypt pressed in
  to be drowned unto death.



19

 


SONG-SURF



My breasts were as fire with the glory,
  the rocks that were under
My feet grew quick with the gloating
  that beat in my breath.



At night I stole out where they cast him,
  a sop to the jackal and raven.
But his bones stood up in the moon
  and I shook with affright.
The strength shrank out of my limbs
  and I fell, a craven,
Before him -the nail in his temple
  gleamed bloodily bright.


Jehovah! Jehovah! art Thou
  not stronger than gods of the heathen
I slew him, that Sisera, prince
  of the host Thou dost hate.
But fear of his blood is upon me,
  about me is breathen

 

SONG-SURF



His spirit -by day and by night
  come voices that wait.



I fly to the desert, I fly to the
  mountain - but they will not hide me.
His gods haunt the winds and the caves
  with vengeance that cries
For judgment upon me; the stars in
  their courses deride me -
The stars Thou hast hung with a breath
  in the wandering skies.



Jehovah! Jehovah! I slew him,
  the scourge and sting of Thy Nation.
Take from me his spirit, take from me
  the voice of his blood.
With madness I rave - by day
  and by night, defamation!
Jehovah, release me! Jehovah'
  if still Thou art God!



21

 

TO THE SEA



ART thou enraged, 0 sea, with the blue peace
Of heaven, so to uplift thine armed waves,
Thy billowing rebellion 'gainst its ease,
And with Tartarean mutter from cold caves,
From shuddering profundities where shapes
Of awe glide thro' entangled leagues of ooze,
To hoot thy watery omens evermore,
And evermore thy moanings interfuse
With seething necromancy and mad lore


Or, dost thou labour with the drifting bones
Of countless dead, thou mighty Alchemist,
Within whose stormy crucible the stones
Of sunk primordial shores, granite and schist,
Are crumbled by thine all-abrasive beat
                   22

 

SONG-SURF



With immemorial chanting to the moon,
And cosmic incantation, dost thou crave
Rest to be found not till thy wild be strewn
Frigid and desert over earth's last grave


Thou seemest with immensity mad, blind -
With raving deaf, with wandering forlorn;
Parent of Demogorgon whose dire mind
Is night and earthquake, shapeless shame and
  scorn
Of the o'ermounting birth of Harmony.
Bound in thy briny bed and gnawing earth
With foamy writhing and fierce-panted tides,
Thou art as Fate in torment of a dearth
Of black disaster and destruction's strides.


And how thou dost drive silence from the
  world,
Incarnate Motion of all mystery!
Whose waves are fury-wings, whose winds are
  hurled



23

 

SONG-SURF



Whither thy Ghost tempestuous can see
A desolate apocalypse of death.
Oh, how thou dost drive silence from the world,
With emerald overflowing, waste on waste
Of flashing susurration, dashed and swirled
O'er isles and continents that shrink abased!


Nay, frustrate Hope art thou, of the Unknown,
Gathered from primal mist and firmament;
A surging shape of Life's unfathomed moan,
Whelming humanity with fears unmeant.
Yet do I love thee, 0, above all fear,
And loving thee unconquerably trust
The runes that from thy ageless surfing start
Would read, were they revealed, gust upon
  gust,
That Immortality is might of heart!



24

 


THE DAY-MOON



        So wan, so unavailing,
Across the vacant day-blue dimly trailing!

        Last night, sphered in thy shining,
A Circe - mystic destinies divining;

        To-day but as a feather
Torn from a seraph's wing in sinful weather,

        Down-drifting from the portals
Of Paradise, unto the land of mortals.

        Yet do I feel thee awing
My heart with mystery, as thy updrawing

        Moves thro' the tides of Ocean
And leaves lorn beaches barren of its motion;
                     25

 

SONG-SURF



        Or strands upon near shallows
The wreck whose weirded form at night
  unhallows



        The fisher
"For himl-that
  unawares! "



maiden's
storms



prayers -
may take not



        So wan, so unavailing,
Across the vacant day-blue dimly trailing!


        But Night shall come atoning
Thy phantom life thro' day, and high enthroning


        Thee in her chambers arrased
With star-hieroglyphs, leave thee unharassed


        To glide with silvery passion,
Till in earth's shadow swept thy glowings ashen.



26

 


A SEA-GHOST



OH, fisher-fleet, go in from the sea
  And furl your wings.
The bay is gray with the twilit spray
  And the loud surf springs.



The chill buoy-bell is rung by the hands
  Of all the drowned,
Who know the woe of the wind and tow
  Of the tides around.



Go in, go in! Oh, haste from the sea,
  And let them rest -
A son and one who was wed and one
  Who went down unblest.



27

 

SONG-SURF



Aye, even as I, whose hands at the bell
  Now labour most.
The tomb has gloom, but Oh, the doom
  Of the drear sea-ghost!


He evermore must wander the ooze
Beneath the wave,
Forlorn -to warn of the tempest born,
  And to save - to save!



Then go, go in! and leave us the sea,
  For only so
Can peace release us and give us ease
  Of our salty woe.



28

 


ON THE MOOR



I MET a child upon the moor
  A-wading down the heather;
She put her hand into my own,
  We crossed the fields together.


I led her to her father's door -
  A cottage mid the clover.
I left her -- and the world grew poor
  To me, a childless rover.


                 2
I met a maid upon the moor,
  The morrow was her wedding.
Love lit htr eyes with lovelier hues
  Than the eve-star was shedding.



29

 

SONG-SURF



She looked a sweet good-bye to me,
  And o'er the stile went singing.
Down all the lonely night I heard
  But bridal bells a-ringing.


                 3
I met a mother on the moor,
  By a new grave a-praying.
The happy swallows in the blue
  Upon the winds were playing.


"Would I were in his grave," I said,
  "And he beside her standing!"
There was no heart to break if death
  For me had made demanding.



30

 

THE CRY OF EVE



DOWN the palm-way from Eden in the mid-
  night
Lay dreaming Eve by her outdriven mate,
Pillowed on lilies that still told the sweet
Of birth within the Garden's ecstasy.
Pitiful round her face that could not lose
Its memory of God's perfecting was strewn
Her troubled hair, and sigh grieved after sigh
Along her loveliness in the white moon.
Then sudden her dream, too cruelly impent
With pain, broke and a cry fled shuddering
Into the wounded stillness from her lips-
As, cold, she fearfully felt for his hand,
And tears, that had before ne'er visited
Her lids with anguish, drew from her the moan:

                     3'

 

SONG-SURF



"Oh, Adam! What have I dreamed
Now do I understand His words, so dim
To creatures that had quivered but with bliss!
Since at the dusk thy kiss to me, and I
Wept at caresses that were once all joy,
I have slept, seeing through Futurity
The uncreated ages visibly!
Foresuffering phantoms crowded in the womb
Of Time, and all with lamentable mien
Accusing without mercy, thee and me!
And without pity! for tho' some were far
From birth, and without name, others were near -
Sodom and dark Gomorrah-from whose flames
Fleeing one turned . . . how like her look to mine
When the tree's horror trembled on my taste!
And Babylon upbuilded on our sin;
And Nineveh, a city sinking slow
Under a shroud of sandy centuries
That hid me not from the buried cursing eyes
Of women who e'er-bitterly gave birth!



32

 

SONG-SURF



Ah, to be mother of all misery!
To be first-called out of the earth and fail
For a whole world! To shame maternity
For women evermore - women whose tears
Flooding the night, no hope can wipe away!
To see the wings of Death, as, Adam, thou
Hast not, endlessly beating, and to hear
The swooning ages suffer up to God!
And Oh, that birth-cry of a guiltless child
In it are sounding of our sin and woe,
With prophesy of ill beyond all years!
Yearning for beauty never to be seen -
Beatitude redeemless evermore!



"And I whose dream mourned with all motherhood
Must hear it soon! Already do soft skill,
Assuasive lulls, enticings and quick tones
Of tenderness - that will like light awake
The folded memory children shall bring
Out of the dark - move in me longingly.



33

 

34                SONG-SURF

Yet thou, Adam, dear fallen thought of God,
Thou, when thou too shalt hear humanity
Cry in thy child, wilt groaning wish the world
Back in unsummoned Void! and, woe! wilt fill
God's ear with troubled wonder and unrest!"



Softly he soothed her straying hair, and kissed
The fever from her lips. Over the palms
The sad moon poured her peace into their eyes,
Till Sleep, the angel of forgetfulness,
Folded again dark wings above their rest.

 

MARY AT NAZARETH



I KNow, Lord, Thou hast sent Him -
Thou art so good to me! -
But Thou hast only lent Him,
    His heart's for Thee!



I dared -Thy poor hand-maiden -
Not ask a prophet-child:
Only a boy-babe laden
   For earth - and mild.



But this one Thou hast given
Seems not for earth - or me!
His lips flame truth from heaven,
   And vanity

             35

 
SONG-SURF



Seem all my thoughts and prayers
When He but speaks Thy Law;
Out of my heart the tares
    Are torn by awe!



I cannot look upon Him,
So strangely burn His eyes -
Hath not some grieving drawn Him
    From Paradise



For Thee, for Thee I'd live, Lord!
Yet oft I almost fall
Before Him - Oh, forgive, Lord,
    My sinful thrall!



But e'en when He was nursing,
A baby at my breast,
It seemed He was dispersing
   The world's unrest.



36

 
SONG-SURF



Thou bad'st me call Him "Jesus,"
And from our heavy sin
I know He shall release us,
    From Sheol win.



But, Lord, forgive! the yearning
That He may sometimes be
Like other children, learning
    Beside my knee,



Or playing, prattling, seeking
For help - comes to my heart. . .
Ah sinful, Lord, I'm speaking -
    How good Thou art!



37

 

ADELIL



PROUD Adelil! Proud Adelil!
Why does she lie so cold
  (I made her shrink, I made her reel,
    I made her white lids fold.)



We sat at banquet, many maids,
She like a Valkyr free.
  (I hated the glitter of her braids,
    I hated her blue eye's glee!)



In emerald cups was poured the mead;
Icily blew the night.
  (But tears unshed and woes that bleed
    Brew bitterness and spite.)
                 38

 

SONG-SURF



"A goblet to my love!" she cried,
"Prince where the sea-winds fly!"
(Her love! - it was for that he died,
    And for it she should die.)


She lifted the cup and drank - she saw
A heart within its lees.
  (I laughed like the dead who feel the thaw
    Of summer in the breeze.)



They looked upon her stricken still,
And sudden they grew appalled.
  ("It is thy lover's heart!" I shrill
    As the sea-crow to her called.)



Palely she took it -did it give
Ease there against her breast
  (Dead - dead she swooned, but I cannot
      live,
    And dead I shall not rest.)



39

 
INTIMATION



ALL night I smiled as I slept,
  For I heard the March-wind feel
Blindly about in the trees without
  For buds to heal.



All night in dreams, for I smelt,
  In the rain-wet woods and fields,
The coming flowers and the glad green hours
  That summer yields.



All night - and when at dawn
  I woke with the blue-bird's cheep,
Winter with all its chill and pall
  Seemed but a sleep.

                40

 

IN JULY



THIs path will tell me where dark daisies dance
To the white sycamores that dell them in;
Where crow and flicker cry melodious din,
And blackberries in ebon ripeness glance
Luscious enticings under briery green.
It will slip under coppice limbs that lean
Brushingly as the slowv-belled heifer pants
    Toward weedy water-plants
That shade the pool-sunk creek's reluctant trance.


I shall find bell-flower spires beside the gap
And lady phlox within the hollow's cool;
Cedar with sudden memories of Yule
Above the tangle tipped with blue skullcap.
The high hot mullein fond of the full sun



41

 

SONG-SURF



42



Will watch and tell the low mint when I've won
rhe hither wheat where idle breezes nap,
    And fluffy quails entrap
Me from their brood that crouch to escape mishap.



Then I shall reach the mossy water-way
That gullies the dense hill up to its peak,
There dally listening to the eerie eke
Of drops into cool chalices of clay.
Then on, for elders odorously will steal
My senses till I climb up where they heal
The livid heat of its malingering ray,
    And wooingly betray
To memory many a long-forgotten day.



There I shall rest within the woody peace
Of afternoon. The bending azure frothed
With silveryness, the sunny pastures swathed,
Fragrant with morn-mown clover and seed-fleece;
The hills where hung mists muse, and Silence calls

 

             SONG-SURF                   43

To Solitude thro' aged forest halls,
Will waft into me their mysterious ease,
    And in the wind's soft cease
I shall hear hintings of eternities.

 

FROM ABOVE



WHAT do I care if the trees are bare
And the hills are dark
And the skies are gray.


What do I care for chill in the air
For crows that cark
At the rough wind's way.


What do I care for the dead leaves there -
Or the sullen road
By the sullen wood.


There's heart iii my heart
To bear my load!
So enough, the day is goodl
                44

 

BY THE INDUS



THou art late, 0 Moon,
Late,
    I have waited thee long.
The nightingale's flown to her nest,
    Sated with song.
The champak hath no odour more
To pour on the wind as he passeth o'er -
    But my heart it will not rest.




Thou art late, 0 Love,
Late,
    For the moon is a-wane.
The kusa-grass sighs with my sighs,
    Burns with my pain.

                45

 

46                 SONG-SURF

      The lotus leans her head on the stream -
      Shall I not lean to thy breast and dream,
          Dream ere the night-cool dies




      Thou art late, 0 Death,
      Late,
          For he did not comet
      A pariah is my heart,
          Cast from himr-dumbl
      I cannot cry in the jungle's deep -
      Is it not time for the Tomb -and Sleep
          0 Death, strike with thy dart!

 

EVOCATION



       (NIxKo, JAPAN, 1905)


DIM thro' the mist and cryptomeria
    Booms the temple bell,
Down from the tomb of IRyasd
    Yearning, as a knell.


Down from the tomb where many an aeon
    Silently has knelt;
Many a pilgrimage of millions -
    Still about it felt.


Still, for I see them gather ghostly
    Now, as the numb sound
Floats, an unearthly necromancy,
    From the past's dead ground.



47

 
SONG-SURF



See the invisible vast millions,
    Hear their soundless feet
Climbing the shrine-ways to the gilded
    Carven temple's seat.


And, one among them - pale among them -
    Passes waning by.
What is it tells me mystically
    That strange one was I  .


Weird thro' the mist and cryptomeria
    Dies the bell - 'tis dumb.
After how many lives returning
    Shall I hither come


Hither again! and climb the votive
    Ever mossy ways
Who shall the gods be then, the millions
    Meek, entreat or praise

 

THE CHILD GOD GAVE



"GIVE me a little child
To draw this dreary want out of my breast,"
    I cried to God.
"Give, for my days beat wild
With loneliness that will not rest
But under the still sod!"

It came - with groping lips
And little fingers stealing aimlessly
    About my heart.
I was like one who slips
A-sudden into Ecstasy
And thinks ne'er to depart.

"Soon he will smile," I said,
"And babble baby love into my ears -
                 49

 


50                SONG-SURF

        How it will thrill!"
    I waited - Oh, the dread,
    The clutching agony, the -fears! -
    He was so strange and still.

    Did I curse God and rave
    When they came shrinkingly to tell me 'twas
        A witless child
    No   . . . I . . . Ionly gave
    One cry . . . just one. . . I think . .
          because . . .
    You know   . . . he never smiled

 

THE WINDS



THE East Wind is a Bedouin,
    And Nimbus is his steed;
Out of the dusk with the lightning's thin
Blue scimitar he flies afar,
    Whither his rovings lead.
        The Dead Sea waves
        And Egypt caves
    Of mummied silence laugh
When he mounts to quench the Siroc's stench
    And to wrench
    From his clutch the tyrant's staff.


The West Wind is an Indian brave
    Who scours the Autumn's crest.
Dashing the forest down as a slave,

                5T

 

SONG-SURF



He tears the leaves from its limbs and weaves
    A maelstrom for his breast.
        Out of the night
        Crying to fright
    The earth he swoops to spoil -
There is furious scathe in the whirl of his wrath,
    In his path
    There is misery and moil.




The North Wind is a Viking - cold
    And cruel, armed with death!
Born in the doomful deep of the old
Ice Sea that froze ere Ymir rose
    From Niflheim's ebon breath.
        And with him sail
        Snow, Frost, and Hail,
    Thanes mighty as their lord,
To plunder the shores of Summer's stores -
    And his roar 's
    Like the sound of Chaos' horde.



52

 

                 SONG-SURF

The South Wind is a Troubadour;
    The Spring 's his serenade.
Over the mountain, over the moor,
He blows to bloom from the winter's tomb
    Blossom and leaf and blade.
        He ripples the throat
        Of the lark with a note
    Of lilting love and bliss,
And the sun and the moon, the night and t
    Are a-swoon -
    When he woos them with his kiss.



53



he noon,

 

TRANSCENDED



I wHo was learned in death's lore
  Oft held her to my heart
And spoke of days when we should love no more -
  In the long dust, apart.



"Immortal" No-it could not be,
  Spirit with flesh must die