 | The Invisible Playmate |  |
63
HER BOOK
65
THE INQUISITION
I woke at dead of night;
The room was still as death;
All in the dark I saw a sight
Which made me catch my breath.
The room was still as death;
All in the dark I saw a sight
Which made me catch my breath.
Although she slumbered near
The silence hung so deep
I leaned above her crib to hear
If it were death or sleep.
The silence hung so deep
I leaned above her crib to hear
If it were death or sleep.
As low—all quick—I leant,
Two large eyes thrust me back;
Dark eyes—too wise—which gazed intent;
Blue eyes transformed to black.
Two large eyes thrust me back;
Dark eyes—too wise—which gazed intent;
Blue eyes transformed to black.
Heavens! how those steadfast eyes
Their eerie vigil kept!
Was this some angel in disguise
Who searched us while we slept;
Their eerie vigil kept!
Was this some angel in disguise
Who searched us while we slept;
Who winnow'd every sin,
Who tracked each slip and fall,
One of God's spies—not Babbykin,
Not Babbykin at all?
Who tracked each slip and fall,
One of God's spies—not Babbykin,
Not Babbykin at all?
Day came with golden air;
She caught the beams and smiled,
No masked inquisitor was there,
Only a babbling child!
She caught the beams and smiled,
No masked inquisitor was there,
Only a babbling child!
66
THE FIRST MIRACLE
The huge weeds bent to let her pass,
And sometimes she crept under;
She plunged through gulfs of flowery grass;
She filled both hands with plunder.
And sometimes she crept under;
She plunged through gulfs of flowery grass;
She filled both hands with plunder.
The buttercups grew tall as she,
Taller the big dog-daisies;
And so she lost herself, you see,
Deep in the jungle mazes.
Taller the big dog-daisies;
And so she lost herself, you see,
Deep in the jungle mazes.
A wasp twang'd by; a hornèd snail
Leered from a great-leafed docken;
She shut her eyes, she raised a wail
Deplorable, heart-broken.
Leered from a great-leafed docken;
She shut her eyes, she raised a wail
Deplorable, heart-broken.
“Mamma!” Two arms, flashed out of space
Miraculously, caught her;
Fond mouth was pressed to tearful face—
“What is it, little daughter?”
Miraculously, caught her;
Fond mouth was pressed to tearful face—
“What is it, little daughter?”
BY THE FIRESIDE
I
Red-bosomed Robin, in the hard white weatherShe marks thee light upon the ice to rest;
She sees the wintry glass glow with thy breast
And let thee warm thy feet at thine own feather.
II
In the April sun at baby-house she plays.Her rooms are traced with stones and bits of bricks;
For warmth she lays a hearth with little sticks,
And one bright crocus makes a merry blaze!
67
THE RAIDER
Her happy, wondering eyes had ne'er
Till now ranged summer meadows o'er:
She would keep stopping everywhere
To fill with flowers her pinafore.
Till now ranged summer meadows o'er:
She would keep stopping everywhere
To fill with flowers her pinafore.
But when she saw how, green and wide,
Field followed field, and each was gay
With endless flowers, she laughed—then sighed,
“No use!” and threw her spoils away.
Field followed field, and each was gay
With endless flowers, she laughed—then sighed,
“No use!” and threw her spoils away.
BABSIE-BIRD
In the orchard blithely waking,
Through the blossom, loud and clear,
Pipes the goldfinch, “Day is breaking;
Waken, Babsie; May is here!
Bloom is laughing; lambs are leaping;
Every new green leaflet sings;
Five chipp'd eggs will soon be cheeping;
God be praised for song and wings!”
Through the blossom, loud and clear,
Pipes the goldfinch, “Day is breaking;
Waken, Babsie; May is here!
Bloom is laughing; lambs are leaping;
Every new green leaflet sings;
Five chipp'd eggs will soon be cheeping;
God be praised for song and wings!”
Warm and ruddy as an ember,
Lilting sweet from bush to stone,
On the moor in chill November
Flits the stone-chat all alone:
“Snow will soon drift up the heather;
Days are short, nights cold and long;
Meanwhile in this glinting weather
God be thanked for wings and song!”
Lilting sweet from bush to stone,
On the moor in chill November
Flits the stone-chat all alone:
“Snow will soon drift up the heather;
Days are short, nights cold and long;
Meanwhile in this glinting weather
God be thanked for wings and song!”
68
Round from Maytime to November
Babsie lilts upon the wing,
Far too happy to remember
Thanks or praise for anything;
Save at bedtime, laughing sinner,
When she gaily lisps along,
For the wings and song within her—
“Thank you, God, for wings and song!”
Babsie lilts upon the wing,
Far too happy to remember
Thanks or praise for anything;
Save at bedtime, laughing sinner,
When she gaily lisps along,
For the wings and song within her—
“Thank you, God, for wings and song!”
THE ORCHARD OF STARS
Amid the orchard grass she'd stood
and watch'd with childish glee
The big bright burning apples shower'd
like star-falls from the tree;
and watch'd with childish glee
The big bright burning apples shower'd
like star-falls from the tree;
So when the autumn meteors fell
she cried, with outspread gown,
“Oh my, papa, look! Isn't God
just shaking apples down?”
she cried, with outspread gown,
“Oh my, papa, look! Isn't God
just shaking apples down?”
THE SWEET PEA
Oh, what has been born in the night
To bask in this blithe summer morn?
She peers, in a dream of delight,
For something new-made or new-born.
To bask in this blithe summer morn?
She peers, in a dream of delight,
For something new-made or new-born.
Not spider-webs under the tree,
Not swifts in their cradle of mud
But—“Look, father, Sweet Mrs. Pea
Has two little babies in bud!”
Not swifts in their cradle of mud
But—“Look, father, Sweet Mrs. Pea
Has two little babies in bud!”
69
BROOK-SIDE LOGIC
As the brook caught the blossoms she cast,
Such a wonder gazed out from her face!
Why, the water was all running past,
Yet the brook never budged from its place.
Such a wonder gazed out from her face!
Why, the water was all running past,
Yet the brook never budged from its place.
Oh, the magic of what was so clear!
I explained. And enlightened her? Nay—
“Why but, father, I couldn't stay here
If I always was running away!”
I explained. And enlightened her? Nay—
“Why but, father, I couldn't stay here
If I always was running away!”
BUBBLE-BLOWING
Our plot is small, but sunny limes
Shut out all cares and troubles;
And there my little girl at times
And I sit blowing bubbles.
Shut out all cares and troubles;
And there my little girl at times
And I sit blowing bubbles.
The screaming swifts race to and fro,
Bees cross the ivied paling,
Draughts lift and set the globes we blow
In freakish currents sailing.
Bees cross the ivied paling,
Draughts lift and set the globes we blow
In freakish currents sailing.
They glide, they dart, they soar, they break.
Oh, joyous little daughter,
What lovely coloured worlds we make,
What crystal flowers of water!
Oh, joyous little daughter,
What lovely coloured worlds we make,
What crystal flowers of water!
One, green and rosy, slowly drops;
One soars and shines a minute,
And carries to the lime-tree tops
Our home, reflected in it.
One soars and shines a minute,
And carries to the lime-tree tops
Our home, reflected in it.
70
The gable, with cream rose in bloom,
She sees from roof to basement;
“Oh, father, there's your little room!”
She cries in glad amazement.
She sees from roof to basement;
“Oh, father, there's your little room!”
She cries in glad amazement.
To her enchanted with the gleam,
The glamour and the glory,
The bubble home's a home of dream,
And I must tell its story;
The glamour and the glory,
The bubble home's a home of dream,
And I must tell its story;
Tell what we did, and how we played,
Withdrawn from care and trouble—
A father and his merry maid,
Whose house was in a bubble!
Withdrawn from care and trouble—
A father and his merry maid,
Whose house was in a bubble!
NEW VERSION OF AN OLD GAME
The storm had left the rain-butt brimming;
A dahlia leaned across the brink;
Its mirrored self, beneath it swimming,
Lit the dark water, gold and pink.
A dahlia leaned across the brink;
Its mirrored self, beneath it swimming,
Lit the dark water, gold and pink.
Oh, rain, far fallen from heights of azure—
Pure rain, from heavens so cold and lone—
Dost thou not feel, and thrill with pleasure
To feel a flower's heart in thine own?
Pure rain, from heavens so cold and lone—
Dost thou not feel, and thrill with pleasure
To feel a flower's heart in thine own?
Enjoy thy beauty, and bestow it,
Fair dahlia, fenced from harm, mishap!
“See, Babs, this flower—and this below it.”
She looked, and screamed in rapture—“Snap!”
Fair dahlia, fenced from harm, mishap!
“See, Babs, this flower—and this below it.”
She looked, and screamed in rapture—“Snap!”
71
THE GOLDEN SWING-BOAT
Across the low dim fields we caught
Faint music from a distant band—
So sweet i' the dusk one might have thought
It floated up from elfin-land.
Faint music from a distant band—
So sweet i' the dusk one might have thought
It floated up from elfin-land.
Then, o'er the tree-tops' hazy blue
We saw the new moon, low i' the air:
“Look, Dad,” she cried, “a shuggy-shue!
Why this must be a fairies' fair!”
We saw the new moon, low i' the air:
“Look, Dad,” she cried, “a shuggy-shue!
Why this must be a fairies' fair!”
ANOTHER NEWTON'S APPLE
We tried to show with lamp and ball
How simply day and night were “made”;
How earth revolved, and how through all
One half was sunshine, one was shade.
How simply day and night were “made”;
How earth revolved, and how through all
One half was sunshine, one was shade.
One side, tho' turned and turned again,
Was always bright. She mused and frowned,
Then flashed—“It's just an apple, then,
'at's always rosy half way round!”
Was always bright. She mused and frowned,
Then flashed—“It's just an apple, then,
'at's always rosy half way round!”
Oh, boundless tree of ranging blue,
Star-fruited through thy heavenly leaves,
Be, if thou canst be, good unto
This apple-loving babe of Eve's
Star-fruited through thy heavenly leaves,
Be, if thou canst be, good unto
This apple-loving babe of Eve's
NATURULA NATURANS
Beside the water and the crumbs
She laid her little birds of clay,
For—“When some other sparrow comes
Perhaps they'll fly away.”
She laid her little birds of clay,
For—“When some other sparrow comes
Perhaps they'll fly away.”
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Ah, golden dream, to clothe with wings
A heart of springing joy; to know
Two lives i' the happy sum of things
To her their bliss will owe!
A heart of springing joy; to know
Two lives i' the happy sum of things
To her their bliss will owe!
Day dawned; they had not taken flight,
Tho' playmates called from bush and tree.
She sighed: “I hardly thought they might.
Well,—God's more clever'n me!”
Tho' playmates called from bush and tree.
She sighed: “I hardly thought they might.
Well,—God's more clever'n me!”
WINGS AND HANDS
God's angels, dear, have six great wings
Of silver and of gold;
Two round their heads, two round their hearts,
Two round their feet they fold.
Of silver and of gold;
Two round their heads, two round their hearts,
Two round their feet they fold.
The angel of a man I know
Has just two hands—so small!
But they're more strong than six gold wings
To keep him from a fall.
Has just two hands—so small!
But they're more strong than six gold wings
To keep him from a fall.
FLOWERS INVISIBLE
She'd watched the rose-trees, how they grew
With green hands full of flowers;
Such flowers made their hands sweet, she knew
But tenderness made ours.
With green hands full of flowers;
Such flowers made their hands sweet, she knew
But tenderness made ours.
So now, o'er fevered brow and eyes
Two small cold palms she closes.
“Thanks, darling!” “Oh, mamma,” she cries
“Are my hands full of roses?”
Two small cold palms she closes.
“Thanks, darling!” “Oh, mamma,” she cries
“Are my hands full of roses?”
73
MAKING PANSIES
“Three faces in a hood.”
Folk called the pansy so
Three hundred years ago.
Of course she understood!
Folk called the pansy so
Three hundred years ago.
Of course she understood!
Then, perching on my knee,
She drew her mother's head
To her own and mine, and said—
“That's mother, you, and me!”
She drew her mother's head
To her own and mine, and said—
“That's mother, you, and me!”
And so it comes about
We three, for gladness sake,
Sometimes a pansy make
Before the gas goes out.
We three, for gladness sake,
Sometimes a pansy make
Before the gas goes out.
HEART-EASE
Last June—how slight a thing to tell!—
One straggling leaf beneath the limes
Against the sunset rose and fell,
Making a rhythm with coloured rhymes.
One straggling leaf beneath the limes
Against the sunset rose and fell,
Making a rhythm with coloured rhymes.
No other leaf in all the air
Seemed waking; and my little maid
Watched with me, from the garden-chair,
Its rhythmic play of light and shade.
Seemed waking; and my little maid
Watched with me, from the garden-chair,
Its rhythmic play of light and shade.
Now glassy gold, now greenish grey,
It dropped, it lifted. That was all.
Strange I should still feel glad to-day
To have seen that one leaf lift and fall.
It dropped, it lifted. That was all.
Strange I should still feel glad to-day
To have seen that one leaf lift and fall.
74
“SI J'AVAIS UN ARPENT”
Oh, had I but a plot of earth, on plain or vale or hill,
With running water babbling through, in torrent, spring, or rill,
With running water babbling through, in torrent, spring, or rill,
I'd plant a tree, an olive or an oak or willow-tree,
And build a roof of thatch, or tile, or reed, for mine and me.
And build a roof of thatch, or tile, or reed, for mine and me.
Upon my tree a nest of moss, or down, or wool, should hold
A songster—finch or thrush or blackbird with its bill of gold;
A songster—finch or thrush or blackbird with its bill of gold;
Beneath my roof a child, with brown or blond or chestnut hair,
Should find in hammock, cradle or crib a nest, and slumber there.
Should find in hammock, cradle or crib a nest, and slumber there.
I ask for but a little plot; to measure my domain,
I'd say to Babs, my bairn of bliss, “Go, alderliefest wean,
I'd say to Babs, my bairn of bliss, “Go, alderliefest wean,
“And stand against the rising sun; your shadow on the grass
Shall trace the limits of my world; beyond I shall not pass.
Shall trace the limits of my world; beyond I shall not pass.
“The happiness one can't attain is dream and glamour-shine!”
These rhymes are Soulary's; the thoughts are Babs's thoughts and mine.
These rhymes are Soulary's; the thoughts are Babs's thoughts and mine.
| The Invisible Playmate | |