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 | Poems of experience |  |
5
THE LONDON ‘BOBBY’
A TRIBUTE TO THE POLICEMEN OF ENGLAND'S CAPITAL
Here in my cosy corner,
Before a blazing log,
I'm thinking of cold London
Wrapped in its killing fog;
And, like a shining beacon
Above the picture grim,
I see the London ‘Bobby,’
And sing my song for him.
Before a blazing log,
I'm thinking of cold London
Wrapped in its killing fog;
And, like a shining beacon
Above the picture grim,
I see the London ‘Bobby,’
And sing my song for him.
I see his stalwart figure,
I see his kindly face,
I hear his helpful answer
At any hour or place.
For, though you seek some by-way
Long miles from his own beat,
He tells you all about it,
And how to find the street.
I see his kindly face,
I hear his helpful answer
At any hour or place.
For, though you seek some by-way
Long miles from his own beat,
He tells you all about it,
And how to find the street.
6
He looks like some bold Viking,
This king of earth's police—
Yet in his voice lies feeling,
And in his eye lies peace;
He knows and does his duty—
(What higher praise is there?)
And London's lords and paupers
Alike receive his care.
This king of earth's police—
Yet in his voice lies feeling,
And in his eye lies peace;
He knows and does his duty—
(What higher praise is there?)
And London's lords and paupers
Alike receive his care.
He has a regal bearing,
Yet one that breathes repose;
It is the look and manner
Of one who thinks and knows.
Oh, men who govern nations,
In old worlds or in new,
Turn to the London ‘Bobby’
And learn a thing or two.
Yet one that breathes repose;
It is the look and manner
Of one who thinks and knows.
Oh, men who govern nations,
In old worlds or in new,
Turn to the London ‘Bobby’
And learn a thing or two.
7
READ AT THE BENEFIT OF CLARA MORRIS
(AMERICA'S GREAT EMOTIONAL ACTRESS)
The Radiant Rulers of Mystic Regions
Where souls of artists are fitted for birth
Gathered together their lovely legions
And fashioned a woman to shine on earth.
They bathed her in splendour,
They made her tender,
They gave her a nature both sweet and wild;
They gave her emotions like storm-stirred oceans,
And they gave her the heart of a little child.
Where souls of artists are fitted for birth
Gathered together their lovely legions
And fashioned a woman to shine on earth.
They bathed her in splendour,
They made her tender,
They gave her a nature both sweet and wild;
They gave her emotions like storm-stirred oceans,
And they gave her the heart of a little child.
These Radiant Rulers (who are not human
Nor yet divine like the gods above)
Poured all their gifts in the soul of woman,
That fragile vessel meant only for love.
Still more they taught her,
Still more they brought her,
Till they gave her the world for a harp one day:
And they bade her string it,
They bade her ring it,
While the stars all wondered to hear her play.
Nor yet divine like the gods above)
Poured all their gifts in the soul of woman,
That fragile vessel meant only for love.
Still more they taught her,
Still more they brought her,
8
And they bade her string it,
They bade her ring it,
While the stars all wondered to hear her play.
She touched the strings in a master fashion,
She uttered the cry of a world's despair:
Its long hid secret, its pent-up passion,
She gave to the winds in a vibrant air.
For oh! the heart of her,
That was the art of her.
Great with the feeling that makes men kin.
Art unapproachable,
Art all uncoachable,
Fragrance and flame from the spirit within.
She uttered the cry of a world's despair:
Its long hid secret, its pent-up passion,
She gave to the winds in a vibrant air.
For oh! the heart of her,
That was the art of her.
Great with the feeling that makes men kin.
Art unapproachable,
Art all uncoachable,
Fragrance and flame from the spirit within.
The earth turns ever an ear unheeding
To the sorrows of art, as it cries ‘encore.’
And she played on the harp till her hands were bleeding,
And her brow was bruised by the laurels she wore.
She knew the trend of it,
She knew the end of it—
Men heard the music and men felt the thrill.
Bound to the altar
Of art, could she falter?
Then came a silence—the music was still.
To the sorrows of art, as it cries ‘encore.’
And she played on the harp till her hands were bleeding,
And her brow was bruised by the laurels she wore.
She knew the trend of it,
She knew the end of it—
9
Bound to the altar
Of art, could she falter?
Then came a silence—the music was still.
And yet in the echoes we seem to hear it;
In waves unbroken it circles the earth:
And we catch in the light of her dauntless spirit
A gleam from the centre that gave her birth.
Still is the fame of her
Felt in the name of her—
But low lies the harp that once thrilled to her strain;
No hand has taken it,
No hand can waken it—
For the soul of her art was her secret of pain.
In waves unbroken it circles the earth:
And we catch in the light of her dauntless spirit
A gleam from the centre that gave her birth.
Still is the fame of her
Felt in the name of her—
But low lies the harp that once thrilled to her strain;
No hand has taken it,
No hand can waken it—
For the soul of her art was her secret of pain.
10
TWO GHOSTS
Two dead men boarded a spectral ship
In the astral Port of Space;
On that ghost-filled barque, they met in the dark,
And halted, face to face.
In the astral Port of Space;
On that ghost-filled barque, they met in the dark,
And halted, face to face.
‘Now whither away’—called one of the ghosts,
‘This ship sets sail for Earth.
On the astral plane you must remain,
Where the newly dead have birth.’
‘This ship sets sail for Earth.
On the astral plane you must remain,
Where the newly dead have birth.’
‘But I could not stay and I would not stay,’
The other ghost replied;
‘I must hurry back to the old Earth track
And stand at my loved one's side.
The other ghost replied;
‘I must hurry back to the old Earth track
And stand at my loved one's side.
‘She weeps for me in her lonely room,
In the land from whence I came;
Oh! stow me away in this ship, I pray,
For I hear her call my name.’
In the land from whence I came;
Oh! stow me away in this ship, I pray,
For I hear her call my name.’
11
‘You must not go, and you shall not go,’
The first ghost cried in wrath.
‘Your work is planned, in the astral land,
And a guide will show you the path.’
The first ghost cried in wrath.
‘Your work is planned, in the astral land,
And a guide will show you the path.’
‘But the one I love’—‘I loved her too,’
The first ghost stood and cried;
‘And year on year I waited here,
Yea, waited till you died.
The first ghost stood and cried;
‘And year on year I waited here,
Yea, waited till you died.
‘For I would not come between you two,
Nor shadow her joy with fear,
But mine is the right, I claim this night
To visit the earthly sphere.
Nor shadow her joy with fear,
But mine is the right, I claim this night
To visit the earthly sphere.
‘For you are dead, and I am dead,
And you had her long—so long.
And to look on the grace of her worshipped face,
Ah! now it can do no wrong.
And you had her long—so long.
And to look on the grace of her worshipped face,
Ah! now it can do no wrong.
‘I am fettered to Earth by love of her,
And hers is the spell divine,
That can help me rise, to the realm that lies
Just over the astral line.
And hers is the spell divine,
That can help me rise, to the realm that lies
Just over the astral line.
12
‘I have kept to the laws of God and man,
I have suffered and made no moan;
Now my little share of joy, I swear
I will have—and have it alone.’
I have suffered and made no moan;
Now my little share of joy, I swear
I will have—and have it alone.’
A skeleton crew the anchor drew,
And the ship from the port swung free;
With a muffled clang the ghost bell rang,
And the boat sailed out to sea.
And the ship from the port swung free;
With a muffled clang the ghost bell rang,
And the boat sailed out to sea.
And one ghost stood on the deck and laughed,
As only a glad ghost can;
While a swooning soul was dragged to his goal,
To work out the astral span.
As only a glad ghost can;
While a swooning soul was dragged to his goal,
To work out the astral span.
And a woman wept, and prayed ere she slept,
For a dream to ease her pain;
But she dreamed instead of a man long dead,
Who had loved her all in vain.
For a dream to ease her pain;
But she dreamed instead of a man long dead,
Who had loved her all in vain.
17
BATTLE HYMN OF THE WOMEN
They are waking, they are waking,
In the east, and in the west;
They are throwing wide their windows to the sun;
And they see the dawn is breaking,
And they quiver with unrest,
For they know their work is waiting to be done.
In the east, and in the west;
They are throwing wide their windows to the sun;
And they see the dawn is breaking,
And they quiver with unrest,
For they know their work is waiting to be done.
They are waking in the city,
They are waking on the farm;
They are waking in the boudoir, and the mill;
And their hearts are full of pity
As they sound the loud alarm,
For the sleepers, who in darkness, slumber, still.
They are waking on the farm;
They are waking in the boudoir, and the mill;
And their hearts are full of pity
As they sound the loud alarm,
For the sleepers, who in darkness, slumber, still.
In the guarded harem prison,
Where they smother under veils,
And all echoes of the world are walled away;
Though the sun has not yet risen,
Yet the ancient darkness pales,
And the sleepers, in their slumber, dream of day.
Where they smother under veils,
And all echoes of the world are walled away;
Though the sun has not yet risen,
Yet the ancient darkness pales,
And the sleepers, in their slumber, dream of day.
18
And their dream shall grow in splendour
Till each sleeper wakes, and stirs;
Till she breaks from old traditions, and is free;
And the world shall rise, and render
Unto woman what is hers,
As it welcomes in the race that is to be.
Till each sleeper wakes, and stirs;
Till she breaks from old traditions, and is free;
And the world shall rise, and render
Unto woman what is hers,
As it welcomes in the race that is to be.
Unto woman, God the Maker
Gave the secret of His plan;
It is written out in cipher, on her soul;
From the darkness, you must take her,
To the light of day, O man!
Would you know the mighty meaning of the scroll.
Gave the secret of His plan;
It is written out in cipher, on her soul;
From the darkness, you must take her,
To the light of day, O man!
Would you know the mighty meaning of the scroll.
19
MEMORIES
I am thinking of the Springtime
On the farm out in the West,
When my world held nothing for me that I wanted,
(Save a courage all undaunted),
And my foolish little rhymes,
Were but heart beats, rung in chimes,
That I sounded, just to ease my life's unrest.
Yes, I sang them, and I rang them,
Just to ease my youth's unrest.
On the farm out in the West,
When my world held nothing for me that I wanted,
(Save a courage all undaunted),
And my foolish little rhymes,
Were but heart beats, rung in chimes,
That I sounded, just to ease my life's unrest.
Yes, I sang them, and I rang them,
Just to ease my youth's unrest.
When I heard the name of London,
In that early day, afar,
In that Springtime of my Country over yonder,
Then I used to sit and wonder
If the day would come to me,
When my ship should cross the sea,
To the land that seemed as distant as a star.
In my dreaming, ever gleaming
Like a distant unknown star.
In that early day, afar,
In that Springtime of my Country over yonder,
Then I used to sit and wonder
If the day would come to me,
When my ship should cross the sea,
To the land that seemed as distant as a star.
20
Like a distant unknown star.
Now in London in the Springtime,
I am sitting here, your guest.
Nay—I think it is a vision, or a fancy—
Part of dreamland Necromancy;
And I question: is it true
That the great warm hearts of you,
Heard the winging of that singing in the West,
Heard the chiming of my rhyming
From the farmhouse in the West?
I am sitting here, your guest.
Nay—I think it is a vision, or a fancy—
Part of dreamland Necromancy;
And I question: is it true
That the great warm hearts of you,
Heard the winging of that singing in the West,
Heard the chiming of my rhyming
From the farmhouse in the West?
Let me linger in the fancy,
For the soul of me is stirred
As I dream that I am sitting here among you;
And the songs that I have sung you
Shall grow stronger through the art
Of heart speaking unto heart,
Through the gladness of the singer who is heard.
Lo! my songs have crossed the ocean
But the voice of my emotion finds no word.
For the soul of me is stirred
As I dream that I am sitting here among you;
And the songs that I have sung you
Shall grow stronger through the art
Of heart speaking unto heart,
Through the gladness of the singer who is heard.
Lo! my songs have crossed the ocean
But the voice of my emotion finds no word.
Written to be read at Luncheon, given by my Publishers to the London and Provincial Booksellers, April 12, 1910.
21
SEE?
If one proves weak who you fancied strong,
Or false who you fancied true,
Just ease the smart of your wounded heart
By the thought that it is not you!
Or false who you fancied true,
Just ease the smart of your wounded heart
By the thought that it is not you!
If many forget a promise made,
And your faith falls into the dust,
Then look meanwhile in your mirror and smile,
And say, ‘I am one to trust!’
And your faith falls into the dust,
Then look meanwhile in your mirror and smile,
And say, ‘I am one to trust!’
If you search in vain for an ageing face
Unharrowed by fretful fears,
Then make right now (and keep) a vow
To grow in grace with the years.
Unharrowed by fretful fears,
Then make right now (and keep) a vow
To grow in grace with the years.
If you lose your faith in the word of man
As you go from the port of youth,
Just say as you sail, ‘I will not fail
To keep to the course of truth!’
As you go from the port of youth,
Just say as you sail, ‘I will not fail
To keep to the course of truth!’
22
For this is the way, and the only way—
At least so it seems to me.
It is up to you, to be, and do,
What you look for in others. See?
At least so it seems to me.
It is up to you, to be, and do,
What you look for in others. See?
23
THE PURPOSE
Over and over the task was set,
Over and over I slighted the work,
But ever and alway I knew that yet
I must face and finish the toil I shirk.
Over and over I slighted the work,
But ever and alway I knew that yet
I must face and finish the toil I shirk.
Over and over the whip of pain
Has spurred and punished with blow on blow;
As ever and alway I tried in vain
To shun the labour I hated so.
Has spurred and punished with blow on blow;
As ever and alway I tried in vain
To shun the labour I hated so.
Over and over I came this way
For just one purpose: O stubborn soul!
Turn with a will to your work to-day,
And learn the lesson of Self-Control.
For just one purpose: O stubborn soul!
Turn with a will to your work to-day,
And learn the lesson of Self-Control.
26
A MOORISH MAID
Above her veil a shrouded Moorish maid
Showed melting eyes, as limpid as a lake;
A brow untouched by care; a band of jetty hair,
And nothing more. The all-concealing haik
Fell to her high arched instep. At her side
An old duenna walked; her withered face
Half covered only, since no lingering grace
Bespoke the beauty once her master's pride.
Showed melting eyes, as limpid as a lake;
A brow untouched by care; a band of jetty hair,
And nothing more. The all-concealing haik
Fell to her high arched instep. At her side
An old duenna walked; her withered face
Half covered only, since no lingering grace
Bespoke the beauty once her master's pride.
Above her veil, the Moorish maid beheld
The modern world, in Paris-decked Algiers;
Saw happy lad and lass, in love's contentment pass,
Or in sweet wholesome friendship, free from fears.
She saw fair matrons, walking arm-in-arm
With life-long lovers, time-endeared, and then
She saw the ardent look in eyes of men,
And thrilled and trembled with a vague alarm.
The modern world, in Paris-decked Algiers;
Saw happy lad and lass, in love's contentment pass,
Or in sweet wholesome friendship, free from fears.
She saw fair matrons, walking arm-in-arm
With life-long lovers, time-endeared, and then
She saw the ardent look in eyes of men,
And thrilled and trembled with a vague alarm.
27
Above her veil she saw the stuccoed court
That led to dim secluded rooms within.
She followed, dutiful, the dame unbeautiful,
Who told her that the Christian world means sin.
Some day, full soon, she would go forth a bride—
Of one whose face she never had beheld.
Something within her, wakened, and rebelled;
She flung aside her veil, and cried, and cried.
That led to dim secluded rooms within.
She followed, dutiful, the dame unbeautiful,
Who told her that the Christian world means sin.
Some day, full soon, she would go forth a bride—
Of one whose face she never had beheld.
Something within her, wakened, and rebelled;
She flung aside her veil, and cried, and cried.
31
RESURRECTION
Pausing a moment ere the day was done,
While yet the earth was scintillant with light,
I backward glanced. From valley, plain, and height,
At intervals, where my life-path had run,
Rose cross on cross; and nailed upon each one
Was my dead self. And yet that gruesome sight
Lent sudden splendour to the falling night,
Showing the conquests that my soul had won.
While yet the earth was scintillant with light,
I backward glanced. From valley, plain, and height,
At intervals, where my life-path had run,
Rose cross on cross; and nailed upon each one
Was my dead self. And yet that gruesome sight
Lent sudden splendour to the falling night,
Showing the conquests that my soul had won.
Up to the rising stars I looked and cried,
‘There is no death! for year on year, re-born
I wake to larger life: to joy more great,
So many times have I been crucified,
So often seen the resurrection morn,
I go triumphant, though new Calvaries wait.
‘There is no death! for year on year, re-born
I wake to larger life: to joy more great,
So many times have I been crucified,
So often seen the resurrection morn,
I go triumphant, though new Calvaries wait.
32
THE VOICES OF THE CITY
The voices of the city—merged and swelled
Into a mighty dissonance of sound,
And from the medley rose these broken strains
In changing time and ever-changing keys.
Into a mighty dissonance of sound,
And from the medley rose these broken strains
In changing time and ever-changing keys.
I
Pleasure seekers, silken clad,
Led by cherub Day,
Ours the duty to be glad,
Ours the toil of play.
Led by cherub Day,
Ours the duty to be glad,
Ours the toil of play.
Sleep has bound the commonplace;
Pleasure rules the dawn.
Small hours set the merry pace
And we follow on.
Pleasure rules the dawn.
Small hours set the merry pace
And we follow on.
We must use the joys of earth,
All its cares we'll keep;
Night was made for youth and mirth,
Day was made for sleep.
All its cares we'll keep;
Night was made for youth and mirth,
Day was made for sleep.
33
Time has cut his beard, and lo!
He is but a boy,
Singing, on with him we go,
Ah! but life is joy.
He is but a boy,
Singing, on with him we go,
Ah! but life is joy.
II
We are the vendors of beauty,
We the purveyors for hell;
The carnal bliss of a purchased kiss
And the pleasures that blight, we sell.
God pity us; God pity the world.
We the purveyors for hell;
The carnal bliss of a purchased kiss
And the pleasures that blight, we sell.
God pity us; God pity the world.
We are the sad race-victims
Of the misused force in man,
Of the great white flame burned black with shame
And lost to the primal plan.
God pity us; God pity the world.
Of the misused force in man,
Of the great white flame burned black with shame
And lost to the primal plan.
God pity us; God pity the world.
We are the Purpose of Being
Gone wrong in the thought of the world.
The torch for its hand made a danger brand
And into the darkness hurled.
God pity us; God pity the world.
Gone wrong in the thought of the world.
The torch for its hand made a danger brand
And into the darkness hurled.
God pity us; God pity the world.
34
III
We are the toilers in the realm of night
(Long, long the hours of night),
We are the human lever, wheel, and bolt,
That keeps the civic vehicle from jolt,
And jar upon the shining track of day
(The unremembered day).
(Long, long the hours of night),
We are the human lever, wheel, and bolt,
That keeps the civic vehicle from jolt,
And jar upon the shining track of day
(The unremembered day).
We sleep away the sunlit hours of life
(Unsatisfied, sad life),
We wake in shadow and we rise in gloom,
False as a wanton's artificial bloom
Is that made light we labour in till dawn
(The lonely, laggard dawn).
(Unsatisfied, sad life),
We wake in shadow and we rise in gloom,
False as a wanton's artificial bloom
Is that made light we labour in till dawn
(The lonely, laggard dawn).
Like visions half remembered in a dream
(A strange and broken dream)
Our children's faces, seen but while they sleep,
Within our hearts these weary hours we keep.
We are the toilers in the realm of night
(Long, long the hours of night).
(A strange and broken dream)
Our children's faces, seen but while they sleep,
Within our hearts these weary hours we keep.
We are the toilers in the realm of night
(Long, long the hours of night).
CHORUS
We are hope and faith and sorrow,We are peace and pain and passion,
35
We are happy mothers crooning,
We are rosy children dreaming,
We are honest labour sleeping,
We are wholesome pleasure laughing,
We are wakeful riches feasting,
We are lifted spirits praying,
We the voices of the city.
Out of the medley rose these broken strains,
In changing time and ever-changing keys.
In changing time and ever-changing keys.
36
IF CHRIST CAME QUESTIONING
If Christ came questioning His world to-day,
(If Christ came questioning,)
‘What hast thou done to glorify thy God,
Since last My feet this lower earth plane trod?’
How could I answer Him; and in what way
One evidence of my allegiance bring;
If Christ came questioning.
(If Christ came questioning,)
‘What hast thou done to glorify thy God,
Since last My feet this lower earth plane trod?’
How could I answer Him; and in what way
One evidence of my allegiance bring;
If Christ came questioning.
If Christ came questioning, to me alone,
(If Christ came questioning,)
I could not point to any church or shrine
And say, ‘I helped build up this house of Thine;
Behold the altar, and the corner stone’;
I could not show one proof of such a thing;
If Christ came questioning.
(If Christ came questioning,)
I could not point to any church or shrine
And say, ‘I helped build up this house of Thine;
Behold the altar, and the corner stone’;
I could not show one proof of such a thing;
If Christ came questioning.
If Christ came questioning, on His demand,
(If Christ came questioning,)
No pagan soul converted to His creed
Could I proclaim; or say, that word or deed
Of mine, had spread the faith in any land;
Or sent it forth, to fly on stronger wing;
If Christ came questioning.
(If Christ came questioning,)
No pagan soul converted to His creed
Could I proclaim; or say, that word or deed
37
Or sent it forth, to fly on stronger wing;
If Christ came questioning.
If Christ came questioning the soul of me,
(If Christ came questioning,)
I could but answer, ‘Lord, my little part
Has been to beat the metal of my heart,
Into the shape I thought most fit for Thee;
And at Thy feet, to cast the offering;
Shouldst Thou come questioning.
(If Christ came questioning,)
I could but answer, ‘Lord, my little part
Has been to beat the metal of my heart,
Into the shape I thought most fit for Thee;
And at Thy feet, to cast the offering;
Shouldst Thou come questioning.
‘From out the earth-fed furnaces of desire,
(Ere Thou cam'st questioning,)
This formless and unfinished gift I brought,
And on life's anvil flung it down, white hot:
A glowing thing, of selfishness and fire,
With blow on blow, I made the anvil ring;
(Ere Thou cam'st questioning).
(Ere Thou cam'st questioning,)
This formless and unfinished gift I brought,
And on life's anvil flung it down, white hot:
A glowing thing, of selfishness and fire,
With blow on blow, I made the anvil ring;
(Ere Thou cam'st questioning).
‘The hammer, Self-Control, beat hard on it;
(Ere Thou cam'st questioning,)
And with each blow, rose fiery sparks of pain;
I bear their scars, on body, soul, and brain.
Long, long I toiled; and yet, dear Lord, unfit,
And all unworthy, is the heart I bring,
To meet Thy questioning.’
(Ere Thou cam'st questioning,)
And with each blow, rose fiery sparks of pain;
I bear their scars, on body, soul, and brain.
Long, long I toiled; and yet, dear Lord, unfit,
And all unworthy, is the heart I bring,
To meet Thy questioning.’
38
ENGLAND, AWAKE!
A beautiful great lady, past her prime,
Behold her dreaming in her easy chair;
Gray robed, and veiled, in laces old and rare,
Her smiling eyes see but the vanished time,
Of splendid prowess, and of deeds sublime.
Self satisfied she sits, all unaware
That peace has flown before encroaching care,
And through her halls stalks hunger, linked with crime.
Behold her dreaming in her easy chair;
Gray robed, and veiled, in laces old and rare,
Her smiling eyes see but the vanished time,
Of splendid prowess, and of deeds sublime.
Self satisfied she sits, all unaware
That peace has flown before encroaching care,
And through her halls stalks hunger, linked with crime.
England, awake! from dreams of what has been,
Look on what is, and put the past away.
Speak to your sons, until they understand.
England, awake! for dreaming now is sin;
In all your ancient wisdom, rise to-day,
And save the glory of your menaced land.
Look on what is, and put the past away.
Speak to your sons, until they understand.
England, awake! for dreaming now is sin;
In all your ancient wisdom, rise to-day,
And save the glory of your menaced land.
39
BE NOT ATTACHED
Be not attached.’ So runs the great command
For those who seek to ‘know’ and ‘understand.’
Who sounds the waters of the deeper sea
Must first draw up his anchor and go free.
For those who seek to ‘know’ and ‘understand.’
Who sounds the waters of the deeper sea
Must first draw up his anchor and go free.
But not for me, that knowledge. I must wait
Until again I enter through life's gate.
I am not brave enough to sail away
To farther seas, and leave this beauteous bay.
Until again I enter through life's gate.
I am not brave enough to sail away
To farther seas, and leave this beauteous bay.
Love barnacled, my anchor lies; and oh!
I would not lift it if I could, and go
All unattached, to find those truths which lie
Far out at sea, beneath a lonely sky.
I would not lift it if I could, and go
All unattached, to find those truths which lie
Far out at sea, beneath a lonely sky.
Though peace of heart, and happiness of soul,
Await the seeker at that farther goal,
With love and all its rapture and its pain,
Close to the shores of earth I must remain.
Await the seeker at that farther goal,
40
Close to the shores of earth I must remain.
Nor yet would I relinquish my sweet dream
To gain possession of the Fact supreme.
I am attached, and well content to stay,
Learning such truths as love may send my way.
To gain possession of the Fact supreme.
I am attached, and well content to stay,
Learning such truths as love may send my way.
43
THE VOICE OF THE VOICELESS
I am the voice of the voiceless;
Through me the dumb shall speak;
Till the deaf world's ear be made to hear
The cry of the wordless weak.
From street, from cage, and from kennel,
From jungle and stall, the wail
Of my tortured kin proclaims the sin
Of the mighty against the frail.
Through me the dumb shall speak;
Till the deaf world's ear be made to hear
The cry of the wordless weak.
From street, from cage, and from kennel,
From jungle and stall, the wail
Of my tortured kin proclaims the sin
Of the mighty against the frail.
I am a ray from the centre;
And I will feed God's spark,
Till a great light glows in the night and shows
The dark deeds done in the dark.
And full on the thoughtless sleeper
Shall flash its glaring flame,
Till he wakens to see what crimes may be
Cloaked under an honoured name.
And I will feed God's spark,
Till a great light glows in the night and shows
The dark deeds done in the dark.
And full on the thoughtless sleeper
Shall flash its glaring flame,
Till he wakens to see what crimes may be
Cloaked under an honoured name.
The same Force formed the sparrow
That fashioned man, the king;
The God of the Whole gave a spark of soul
To furred and to feathered thing.
And I am my brother's keeper,
And I will fight his fight,
And speak the word for beast and bird,
Till the world shall set things right.
That fashioned man, the king;
44
To furred and to feathered thing.
And I am my brother's keeper,
And I will fight his fight,
And speak the word for beast and bird,
Till the world shall set things right.
Let no voice cavil at Science—
The strong torch-bearer of God;
For brave are his deeds, though dying creeds,
Must fall where his feet have trod.
But he who would trample kindness
And mercy into the dust—
He has missed the trail, and his quest will fail:
He is not the guide to trust.
The strong torch-bearer of God;
For brave are his deeds, though dying creeds,
Must fall where his feet have trod.
But he who would trample kindness
And mercy into the dust—
He has missed the trail, and his quest will fail:
He is not the guide to trust.
For love is the true religion,
And love is the law sublime;
And all that is wrought, where love is not,
Will die at the touch of time.
And Science, the great revealer,
Must flame his torch at the Source;
And keep it bright with that holy light,
Or his feet shall fail on the course.
And love is the law sublime;
And all that is wrought, where love is not,
Will die at the touch of time.
And Science, the great revealer,
Must flame his torch at the Source;
And keep it bright with that holy light,
Or his feet shall fail on the course.
45
Oh, never a brute in the forest,
And never a snake in the fen,
Or ravening bird, starvation stirred,
Has hunted its prey like men.
For hunger, and fear, and passion
Alone drive beasts to slay,
But wonderful man, the crown of the plan,
Tortures, and kills, for play.
And never a snake in the fen,
Or ravening bird, starvation stirred,
Has hunted its prey like men.
For hunger, and fear, and passion
Alone drive beasts to slay,
But wonderful man, the crown of the plan,
Tortures, and kills, for play.
He goes well fed from his table;
He kisses his child and wife;
Then he haunts a wood, till he orphans a brood,
Or robs a deer of its life.
He aims at a speck in the azure;
Winged love, that has flown at a call;
It reels down to die, and he lets it lie;
His pleasure was seeing it fall.
He kisses his child and wife;
Then he haunts a wood, till he orphans a brood,
Or robs a deer of its life.
He aims at a speck in the azure;
Winged love, that has flown at a call;
It reels down to die, and he lets it lie;
His pleasure was seeing it fall.
And one there was, weary of laurels,
Of burdens and troubles of State;
So the jungle he sought, with the beautiful thought
Of shooting a she lion's mate.
And one came down from the pulpit,
In the pride of a duty done,
And his cloth sufficed, as his emblem of Christ,
While murder smoked out of his gun.
Of burdens and troubles of State;
So the jungle he sought, with the beautiful thought
Of shooting a she lion's mate.
And one came down from the pulpit,
In the pride of a duty done,
And his cloth sufficed, as his emblem of Christ,
While murder smoked out of his gun.
46
One strays from the haunts of fashion
With an indolent, unused brain;
But his sluggish heart feels a sudden start
In the purpose of giving pain.
And the fluttering flock of pigeons,
As they rise on eager wings,
From prison to death, bring a catch in his breath:
Oh, the rapture of killing things!
With an indolent, unused brain;
But his sluggish heart feels a sudden start
In the purpose of giving pain.
And the fluttering flock of pigeons,
As they rise on eager wings,
From prison to death, bring a catch in his breath:
Oh, the rapture of killing things!
Now, this is the race as we find it,
Where love, in the creed, spells hate;
And where bird and beast meet a foe in the priest
And in rulers of fashion and State.
But up to the Kingdom of Thinkers
Has risen the cry of our kin;
And the weapons of thought are burnished and brought
To clash with the bludgeons of sin.
Where love, in the creed, spells hate;
And where bird and beast meet a foe in the priest
And in rulers of fashion and State.
But up to the Kingdom of Thinkers
Has risen the cry of our kin;
And the weapons of thought are burnished and brought
To clash with the bludgeons of sin.
Far Christ, of a million churches,
Come near to the earth again;
Be more than a Name; be a living Flame;
‘Make Good’ in the hearts of men.
Shine full on the path of Science,
And show it the heights above,
Where vast truths lie for the searching eye
That shall follow the torch of love.
Come near to the earth again;
Be more than a Name; be a living Flame;
‘Make Good’ in the hearts of men.
Shine full on the path of Science,
And show it the heights above,
Where vast truths lie for the searching eye
That shall follow the torch of love.
71
FICTION AND FACT
In books I read, how men have lived and died,
With hopeless love deep in their bosoms hidden.
While she for whom they long in secret sighed,
Went on her way, nor guessed this flame unbidden.
With hopeless love deep in their bosoms hidden.
While she for whom they long in secret sighed,
Went on her way, nor guessed this flame unbidden.
In real life, I never chanced to see
The woman who was loved, and did not know it,
And observation proves this fact to me:
No man can love a woman and not show it.
The woman who was loved, and did not know it,
And observation proves this fact to me:
No man can love a woman and not show it.
73
HOW THE WHITE ROSE CAME
The roses all were pink and red,
Before the Bumble Bee,
A lover bold, with cloak of gold,
Came singing merrily
Along the sunlit ways that led
From woodland, and from lea.
Before the Bumble Bee,
A lover bold, with cloak of gold,
Came singing merrily
Along the sunlit ways that led
From woodland, and from lea.
He paused beside an opening rose,
The garden's pet and pride;
She burst in flower that very hour,
While wooing zephyrs sighed;
No smile had she for one of those,
And hope within them died.
The garden's pet and pride;
She burst in flower that very hour,
While wooing zephyrs sighed;
No smile had she for one of those,
And hope within them died.
The ardent butterfly in vain
On radiant wings drew near;
The hapless moth in vain grew wroth—
The fair rose leaned to hear
The deep-voiced stranger's low refrain
That thrilled upon her ear.
On radiant wings drew near;
The hapless moth in vain grew wroth—
The fair rose leaned to hear
The deep-voiced stranger's low refrain
That thrilled upon her ear.
74
She gave her heart in love's delight
And let the whole world see;
Alas! one day, away, away,
Sped truant Bumble Bee;
'Twas then the red rose turned to white—
So was the tale told me.
And let the whole world see;
Alas! one day, away, away,
Sped truant Bumble Bee;
'Twas then the red rose turned to white—
So was the tale told me.
75
I LOOK TO SCIENCE
I look to Science for the cure of Crime;
To patient righting of a thousand wrongs;
To final healing of a thousand ills.
Blind runner now, and cruel egotist
It yet leads on to more than mortal sight,
And the large knowledge that means humbleness,
And tender love for all created things.
To patient righting of a thousand wrongs;
To final healing of a thousand ills.
Blind runner now, and cruel egotist
It yet leads on to more than mortal sight,
And the large knowledge that means humbleness,
And tender love for all created things.
I look to Science for the Coming Race
Growing from seed selected; and from soil
Love fertilised; and pruned by wisdom's hand,
Till out of mortal man spring demi-gods,
Strong primal creatures with awakened souls
And normal passions, governed by the will,
Leaving a trail of glory where they tread.
Growing from seed selected; and from soil
Love fertilised; and pruned by wisdom's hand,
Till out of mortal man spring demi-gods,
Strong primal creatures with awakened souls
And normal passions, governed by the will,
Leaving a trail of glory where they tread.
I look to Science for the growth of faith.
That bold denier of accepted creeds—
That mighty doubter of accepted truths—
Shall yet reveal God's secrets to the world,
And prove the facts it seeks to overthrow.
And a new name shall Science henceforth bear—
The Great Religion of the Universe.
That bold denier of accepted creeds—
76
Shall yet reveal God's secrets to the world,
And prove the facts it seeks to overthrow.
And a new name shall Science henceforth bear—
The Great Religion of the Universe.
77
APPRECIATION
They prize not most the opulence of June
Who from the year's beginning to its close
Dwell, where unfading verdure tireless grows,
And where sweet summer's harp is kept in tune.
We must have listened to the winter's rune,
And felt impatient longings for the rose,
Ere its full radiance on our vision glows,
Or with its fragrant soul, we can commune.
Who from the year's beginning to its close
Dwell, where unfading verdure tireless grows,
And where sweet summer's harp is kept in tune.
We must have listened to the winter's rune,
And felt impatient longings for the rose,
Ere its full radiance on our vision glows,
Or with its fragrant soul, we can commune.
Not they most prize life's blessings, and delights,
Who walk in safe and sunny paths alway.
But those, who, groping in the darkness, borrow
Pale rays from hope, to lead them through the night,
And in the long, long watches wait for day.
He knows not joy who has not first known sorrow.
Who walk in safe and sunny paths alway.
But those, who, groping in the darkness, borrow
Pale rays from hope, to lead them through the night,
And in the long, long watches wait for day.
He knows not joy who has not first known sorrow.
80
MOST BLEST IS HE
Most blest is he who in the morning timeSets forth upon his journey with no staff
Shaped by another for his use. Who sees
The imminent necessity for toil,
And with each morning wakens to the thought
Of tasks that wait his doing. Never yet
Has unearned leisure and the gift of gold
Bestowed such benefits upon the young
As need and loneliness; and when life adds
The burden of a duty, difficult,
And hard to carry, then rejoice, O soul!
And know thyself one chosen for high things.
Behind thee walk the Helpers. Yet lead on!
They only help the lifters, and they give
But unto those who also freely give.
Not till thy will, thy courage, and thy strength
Have done their utmost, and thy love has flowed
81
(The worthless, the ungrateful, and the weak,
As well as to the worthy and the strong)
Canst thou receive invisible support.
Do first thy part, and all of it, before
Asking the helpers to do aught for thee.
For this alone the Universe exists,
That man may find himself is Destiny.
82
NIRVANA
A drop of water risen from the ocean
Forgot its cause, and spake with deep emotion
Unto a passing breeze. ‘How desolate
And all forlorn is my unhappy fate.
I know not whence I came, or where I go.
Scorched by the sun, or chilled by winds that blow,
I dwell in space a little time, then pass
Out into the night and nothingness—alas!’
Forgot its cause, and spake with deep emotion
Unto a passing breeze. ‘How desolate
And all forlorn is my unhappy fate.
I know not whence I came, or where I go.
Scorched by the sun, or chilled by winds that blow,
I dwell in space a little time, then pass
Out into the night and nothingness—alas!’
‘Nay,’ quoth the breeze, ‘my friend, that cannot be.
Thou dost reflect the Universe to me.
Look at thine own true self, and there behold
A world of light, all scintillant with gold.’
Just there the drop sank back into the wave
From whence it came. Nay, that was not its grave!
Thou dost reflect the Universe to me.
Look at thine own true self, and there behold
A world of light, all scintillant with gold.’
Just there the drop sank back into the wave
From whence it came. Nay, that was not its grave!
83
It lived, it moved, it was a joyous part
Of that strong palpitating ocean heart;
Its little dream of loneliness was done;
It woke to find, Self, and Cause, were one.
So shalt thou wake, sad mortal, when thy course
Has run its karmic round, and reached the Source,
And even now thou dost reflect the whole
Of God's great glory in thy shining soul.
Of that strong palpitating ocean heart;
Its little dream of loneliness was done;
It woke to find, Self, and Cause, were one.
So shalt thou wake, sad mortal, when thy course
Has run its karmic round, and reached the Source,
And even now thou dost reflect the whole
Of God's great glory in thy shining soul.
86
TWO MEN
So much one thought about the life beyond
He did not drain the waters of his pond;
And when death laid his children 'neath the sod
He called it—‘the mysterious will of God.’
He would not strive for worldly gain, not he.
His wealth, he said, was stored in God's To Be.
He kept his mortal body poorly drest,
And talked about the garments of the blest.
And when to his last sleep he laid him down,
His only mourner begged her widow's gown.
He did not drain the waters of his pond;
And when death laid his children 'neath the sod
He called it—‘the mysterious will of God.’
He would not strive for worldly gain, not he.
His wealth, he said, was stored in God's To Be.
He kept his mortal body poorly drest,
And talked about the garments of the blest.
And when to his last sleep he laid him down,
His only mourner begged her widow's gown.
One was not sure there was a life to come,
So made an Eden of his earthly home.
He strove for wealth, and with an open hand
He comforted the needy in his land.
He wore new garments often, and the old
Helped many a brother to keep out the cold.
He said this life was such a little span
Man ought to make the most of it,—for man.
And when he died the fortune that he left
Gave succour to the needy and bereft.
So made an Eden of his earthly home.
He strove for wealth, and with an open hand
He comforted the needy in his land.
He wore new garments often, and the old
Helped many a brother to keep out the cold.
87
Man ought to make the most of it,—for man.
And when he died the fortune that he left
Gave succour to the needy and bereft.
89
PARDONED OUT
I'm pardoned out. Again the stars
Shine on me with their myriad eyes.
So long I've peered 'twixt iron bars,
I'm awed by this expanse of skies.
The world is wider than I thought,
And yet 'tis not so wide, I know,
But into its remotest spot
My tale of shame can go.
Shine on me with their myriad eyes.
So long I've peered 'twixt iron bars,
I'm awed by this expanse of skies.
The world is wider than I thought,
And yet 'tis not so wide, I know,
But into its remotest spot
My tale of shame can go.
I'm pardoned out. Old Father Time
Who seemed to halt in horror, when
I stained my manhood by a crime,
With steady step moves on again,
And through the black appalling night,
That walled me in a gloom accurst,
The wonder of the morning light
In sudden glory burst.
Who seemed to halt in horror, when
I stained my manhood by a crime,
With steady step moves on again,
And through the black appalling night,
That walled me in a gloom accurst,
The wonder of the morning light
In sudden glory burst.
90
I'm pardoned out. I shall be known
No more by number, but by name.
And yet each whispering wind has blown
Abroad the story of my shame.
I dread to see men shrink away
With startled looks of scorn or fear,
When in life's crowded marts some day,
That name falls on their ear.
No more by number, but by name.
And yet each whispering wind has blown
Abroad the story of my shame.
I dread to see men shrink away
With startled looks of scorn or fear,
When in life's crowded marts some day,
That name falls on their ear.
I'm pardoned out, ah God! to roam
Like some whipped dog among my kind.
I have no friends, I have no home,
Save these bleak walls I leave behind.
How can I face the world of men,
My comrades in the days of yore?
Oh! hide me in my cell again,
And, warden, lock the door.
Like some whipped dog among my kind.
I have no friends, I have no home,
Save these bleak walls I leave behind.
How can I face the world of men,
My comrades in the days of yore?
Oh! hide me in my cell again,
And, warden, lock the door.
94
PROGRESSION
To each progressive soul there comes a day
When all things that have pleased and satisfied
Grow flavourless, the springs of joy seem dried.
No more the waters of youth's fountains play;
Yet out of reach, tiptoeing as they may,
The more mature and higher pleasures hide.
Life, like a careless nurse, fails to provide
New toys for those the soul has cast away.
When all things that have pleased and satisfied
Grow flavourless, the springs of joy seem dried.
No more the waters of youth's fountains play;
Yet out of reach, tiptoeing as they may,
The more mature and higher pleasures hide.
Life, like a careless nurse, fails to provide
New toys for those the soul has cast away.
Upon a strange land's border all alone,
Awhile it stands dismayed and desolate.
Nude too, since its old garments are outgrown;
Till clothed with strength befitting its estate,
It grasps at length those raptures that are known
To souls who learn to labour, and to wait.
Awhile it stands dismayed and desolate.
Nude too, since its old garments are outgrown;
Till clothed with strength befitting its estate,
It grasps at length those raptures that are known
To souls who learn to labour, and to wait.
95
ACQUAINTANCE
Not we who daily walk the city's street,
Not those who have been cradled in its heart,
Best understand its architectural art
Or realise its grandeur. Oft we meet
Some stranger who has staid his passing feet
And lingered with us for a single hour,
And learned more of cathedral, and of tower,
Than we who deem our knowledge quite complete.
Not those who have been cradled in its heart,
Best understand its architectural art
Or realise its grandeur. Oft we meet
Some stranger who has staid his passing feet
And lingered with us for a single hour,
And learned more of cathedral, and of tower,
Than we who deem our knowledge quite complete.
Not always those we hold most loved and dear,
Not always those who dwell with us, know best
Our greater selves. Because they stand so near
They cannot see the lofty mountain crest,
The gleaming sun-kissed height, which fair and dear
Stands forth—revealed unto the some-time guest.
Not always those who dwell with us, know best
Our greater selves. Because they stand so near
They cannot see the lofty mountain crest,
The gleaming sun-kissed height, which fair and dear
Stands forth—revealed unto the some-time guest.
97
THE TOWER-ROOM
There is a room serene and fair,
All palpitant with light and air;
Free from the dust, world's noise and fuss—
God's Tower-room in each of us.
All palpitant with light and air;
Free from the dust, world's noise and fuss—
God's Tower-room in each of us.
Oh! many a stair our feet must press,
And climb from self to selflessness,
Before we reach that radiant room
Above the discord and the gloom.
And climb from self to selflessness,
Before we reach that radiant room
Above the discord and the gloom.
So many, many stairs to climb,
But mount them gently—take your time;
Rise leisurely, nor strive to run—
Not so the mightiest feats are done.
But mount them gently—take your time;
Rise leisurely, nor strive to run—
Not so the mightiest feats are done.
Well doing of the little things:
Repression of the word that stings;
The tempest of the mind made still
By victory of the God-like will.
Repression of the word that stings;
The tempest of the mind made still
By victory of the God-like will.
98
The hated task performed in love—
All these are stairs that wind above;
The things that trouble and annoy,
Up to the Tower-room of joy.
All these are stairs that wind above;
The things that trouble and annoy,
Up to the Tower-room of joy.
Rise leisurely; the stairs once trod
Reveal the mountain peaks of God;
And from its upper room the soul
Sees all, in one united whole.
Reveal the mountain peaks of God;
And from its upper room the soul
Sees all, in one united whole.
99
FATHER
He never made a fortune, or a noise
In the world where men are seeking after fame;
But he had a healthy brood of girls and boys
Who loved the very ground on which he trod.
They thought him just a little short of God;
Oh you should have heard the way they said his name—‘Father.’
In the world where men are seeking after fame;
But he had a healthy brood of girls and boys
Who loved the very ground on which he trod.
They thought him just a little short of God;
Oh you should have heard the way they said his name—‘Father.’
There seemed to be a loving little prayer
In their voices, even when they called him ‘Dad.’
Though the man was never heard of anywhere,
As a hero, yet you somehow understood
He was doing well his part and making good;
And you knew it, by the way his children had
Of saying ‘Father.’
In their voices, even when they called him ‘Dad.’
Though the man was never heard of anywhere,
As a hero, yet you somehow understood
He was doing well his part and making good;
And you knew it, by the way his children had
Of saying ‘Father.’
He gave them neither eminence nor wealth,
But he gave them blood untainted with a vice,
And the opulence of undiluted health.
He was honest, and unpurchable and kind;
He was clean in heart, and body, and in mind.
So he made them heirs to riches without price—This father.
But he gave them blood untainted with a vice,
And the opulence of undiluted health.
He was honest, and unpurchable and kind;
100
So he made them heirs to riches without price—This father.
He never preached or scolded; and the rod—
Well, he used it as a turning pole in play.
But he showed the tender sympathy of God
To his children in their troubles, and their joys.
He was always chum and comrade with his boys,
And his daughters—oh, you ought to hear them say ‘Father.’
Well, he used it as a turning pole in play.
But he showed the tender sympathy of God
To his children in their troubles, and their joys.
He was always chum and comrade with his boys,
And his daughters—oh, you ought to hear them say ‘Father.’
Now I think of all achievements 'tis the least
To perpetuate the species; it is done
By the insect and the serpent, and the beast.
But the man who keeps his body, and his thought,
Worth bestowing on an offspring love-begot,
Then the highest earthly glory he has won,
When in pride a grown-up daughter or a son Says ‘That's Father.’
To perpetuate the species; it is done
By the insect and the serpent, and the beast.
But the man who keeps his body, and his thought,
Worth bestowing on an offspring love-begot,
Then the highest earthly glory he has won,
When in pride a grown-up daughter or a son Says ‘That's Father.’
101
THE NEW HAWAIIAN GIRL
EXPLANATORY
Kamehameha First, of the Hawaiian Islands, conquered his foes in a great battle, driving them over the high mountain peak known as Pali—one of the famous scenic views of the world, and the goal of all visitors in Honolulu.
The Hula (pronounced hoola) was the national muscle and abdominal dance of Hawaii, and the late King Kalakua was its enthusiastic patron. The costume of the dancers was composed chiefly of skirts of grass. The Hula (so attired) is now forbidden by law. The Hula Kui is a modification of the dance and exceedingly graceful.
Many charming young self-supporting women in Honolulu trace their ancestry back to Kamehameha with great pride. The chant is a weird sing-song which relates the conquests of the race.
It is the custom in Honolulu to present guests at feasts and festivals, or departing visitors, with long wreaths of natural flowers, and which are worn by men, as well as women, about the head, hat, and neck. These wreaths, called lais (pronounced lays), sometimes reach below the waist.
The flower-sellers are one of the national features of Honolulu.
Scene made to represent grounds at Hawaiian Hotel. Sort of open café or pavilion with palms, vines, and tropic flowers. RALPH sitting alone with a dreamy air.Enter ETHEL—in short travelling suit—typical American girl—blonde and petite.
102
Oh, here you are. Your sister and your mother
Commissioned me detective, sleuth, and spy,
To find the disappearing son and brother;
And tell him that the time is slipping by.
Our boat will sail in just two hours, you know.
Dear Honolulu, how I hate to go.
RALPH
Don't mention it; I shun the very thought.
ETHEL
You see this is the sort of thing one hears
And don't believe, until one sees the spot.
We left New York in snow up to its ears;
And now a Paradise! the palm, the rose,
The Boaganvillia, and the breath of summer.
RALPH
I tell you, Honolulu is a hummer.
It pays for six long days upon the ocean—
And those sad memories of a ship's queer motion.
103
There's one thing, though, that's disappointed me,—
The much exploited Honolulu maid.
I haven't seen a beauty in the town.
RALPH
They're thick as ripe bananas on a tree.
You have not been observing, I'm afraid.
ETHEL
(shrugging her shoulders)
Oh well, tastes differ; I don't care for brown,
At least for this pronounced Hawaiian shade;
I really can't imagine how a man
Could love a girl dyed to a chronic tan.
RALPH
Some one has said, ‘Love goes where it is sent.’
ETHEL
(sadly)
I think that true; one can not guide its bent.
But I must go; and will you come along?
Your mother said to bring you.
RALPH
Not quite yet;
I'll wait until that bird completes its song;
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Just tell the folks I'll meet them on the pier.
[Exit ETHEL, looking disappointed.
RALPH
(sitting down in a reverie)
A nice girl, Ethel; but, by Jove, it's queer
The way a fellow's stubborn mind will turn
To something that he should forget. That face—
I saw once on a San Francisco street,
How well I do recall the time and place.
‘A girl from Honolulu,’ some one said.
I wonder where she is now! Married? Dead?
[A silent reverie for a moment. Then speaks again.]
I planned this trip with just one crazy thought—
To look upon that strange girl's face once more.
That is the luny project which has brought
The four of us to this idyllic shore.
[Laughs and lights a cigar.]
My scheme was worked with such consummate care
That mother thinks she planned the whole affair.
Then she invited Ethel as her guest.
[Silence for a moment.]
Well, sometimes mothers know just what is best
For wayward sons.
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Why is it one girl's face I can't forget?
Why is it that I feel despondent hearted
In missing that fool hope for which I started?
Four thousand miles is something of a chase
To run to cover one elusive face
And then to fail.
[Reverie. A chant is heard outside. The man listens. The chant ceases and then a maiden slowly approaches calling out her flower wares, which she carries in a basket; she wears several lais herself, on hat and neck. She does not observe the man at first.]
FLOWER GIRL
(calls in a musical voice)
Lais, lais, royal lais, beautiful flowers in bloom;
Colours of splendour, fragrance so tender,
Blossoms to brighten your room;
Lais, lais, royal lais, who buys—
RALPH
(leans forward and says aside)
(Eve and the serpent meet in Paradise.)
[He moves forward as the maid enters the doorway. Recognition shows in both faces. Then the maiden recovers her self-possession and starts to go.]
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(with sudden boldness and excitement)
I'll buy you out, in case you then are free
To stay awhile, beneath this banyan tree,
And tell me all about your lovely land.
FLOWER GIRL
(with dignity)
Your pardon, sir, I do not understand.
RALPH
(who seems drunk with exhilaration)
Oh well, 'tis plain enough; from realms of snow
I landed here, some little time ago,
A lonely orphan, without kith or kin.
I need a friend.
[FLOWER GIRL gives him an indignant, surprised glance. Then speaks with quiet sarcasm.]
Sir, they will take you in
On Hotel Street. The Y.M.C.A. there
Shelters all homeless youths within its pale.
RALPH
(shaking his head sadly)
They wouldn't take me in. I am from Yale.
GIRL
(with mock sympathy)
Oh, that is sad. Because no skill or tact
You might employ could ever hide the fact
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Now Harvard, Princeton, Stanford men, we see
And never know, until they speak the name;
But Yale,—it bears its brand.
RALPH
(reproachfully)
You're making game
Of me, and of my College, cruel girl.
[Approaches her excitedly.]
Come, drop those flowers, and let us have a whirl.
I'll give you both the Yale Yell and the Boola,
If you will dance for me your famous Hula.
GIRL
(drawing back haughtily)
I dance the Hula? You mistake, my friend;
You heard my chant, but did not comprehend
The meaning of it. Hark, while I repeat it.
[Repeats the chant.]
RALPH
(puzzled)
I'm sure there's nothing in the world can beat it;
But—er—the language is a little queer;
I did not quite catch all the words, I fear;
Besides, I'm so distracted by your face.
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(proudly)
That chant relates the conquests of my race;
Though I am poor, and hawk about these lais
To earn my bread, yet in the olden days
There was no prouder family on earth
Than mine. But Polynesian pride of birth
Is quite beyond the white man's scope of brain,
And so perchance I speak to you in vain.
[Takes her flowers and starts to go.]
RALPH
(intercepts her)
Great Scott! but you are splendid when you're mad!
Now, please, don't go; I'm really not so bad:
I don't mean half I say.
GIRL
(turns blazing eyes upon him)
Oh, all you men
Of pallid blood, again, and yet again
Have offered insults to our island races.
I own we once were savage; and the traces
Of those wild days remain; but, sir, go back
A little way, on your ancestral track,
And see what you will find. A horde of bold
And lawless cut-throats, started many an old
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The bloody groundwork for pretentious fame
When Might was Right. If every royal tree
Were dug up by the roots, the world would see
That common mud first mothered the poor sprout.
Your race is higher than my own, no doubt;
Then shame upon you, for the poor display
Of noble manhood that you make to-day,
Thinking each brown-faced girl your lawful prey.
[Turns her back upon him and starts to go.]
RALPH
(pleadingly)
Oh, say now, let a fellow have a show.
I never meant to rouse your anger so;
I only meant—I—well, you see the change
Of climate was so sudden; and the strange
And gorgeous scenery, and your glorious eyes
Upset my brain. But you have put me wise.
I own that I had heard—
[Hesitates, and GIRL breaks forth again.]
Oh, yes, I know you heard
Wild tales of Honolulu; and were stirred
With high ambitions to return to Yale,
The envied hero of a wilder tale;
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Wore skirts of grass, and danced the Hula dance;
And gave her lips to any man for gold.
RALPH
(interrupting)
Oh, 'pon my honour, I was not so bold—
GIRL
(ignoring, and with vehemence)
You thought the old time licence still prevailed;
You did not know across the heavens had sailed
A beautiful star in brilliancy arrayed,
The Self-Respecting New Hawaiian Maid—
Who prides herself upon her blood and birth
And holds her virtue at its priceless worth;
And stands undaunted in her rightful place
Snow white of soul, however brown of face,
Warmer in blood than your white women are
And yet more moral in her life by far
Than many a leader in your halls of fashion.
RALPH
(gazing at her with admiration)
I vow I like to see you in a passion;
Such royal rage! Your forbear was, I know
Kame-a-lili-like-kalico,
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And tumbled all his foes down off the cliff.
I feel I'm lying with them in the valley
While you stand all triumphant, on the Pali.
GIRL
(smiling and softened)
You mean Kamehameha First, I'm sure.
Yes, I am of his line.
RALPH
May it endure
Until the end of time; for you are great;
The world needs women like you.
[GIRL turns to go.
RALPH
Oh, now wait!
I want some flowers; please hang about my neck
A dozen lais; and give me half a peck
Of nice bouquets; then I will hire a band
And celebrate my entrance to your land.
I'll dance the Hula, up and down the street
And cry Aloha, to each girl I meet;
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I'll shout, Long Live the New Hawaiian Girl—
Rah, rah, rah, Yale, Yale, Yale!
[A Hawaiian Band is heard approaching.]
GIRL
(laughingly, as she hangs lais about his neck)
Well, there's your band; and since you are so kind,
To purchase all my flowers, I've half a mind
To favour you with, not the Hula, sir,
But something more refined, and prettier.
I'll teach it to you; ask the band out there
To play the Hula Kui dancing air;
Then follow all I do, and copy me.
This is the way it starts, now one, two, three.
[After the dance ends, RALPH approaches the GIRL with tense face and speaks with great seriousness.]
Girl, though I do not even know your name,
Yet here I stand, and offer you my own;
It was for you I came, for you alone,
Across the half world. I have never known
Forgetfulness, since first your face I saw.
In coming here, I but obeyed Love's law;
I thought it fancy, passion, or caprice;
I know now it is Love.
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(with emotion)
I pray you, cease;
You do not understand yourself; go, go;
[Urges him towards exit.
RALPH
(seizing her hand)
I will not go until I hear you say
That you remember even as I do
That brief encounter on the street one day.
[FLOWER GIRL turns her face away and tries to free her hand.]
RALPH
(exultantly)
Oh, it is Fate; and Fate we must obey.
[Takes ring from his finger.]
Let the ship go; but with my heart I stay.
[Attempts to place ring on GIRL'S finger. She wrenches her hand free, and stands with both hands behind her as she speaks with suppressed emotion.]
The heart of every Island girl on earth
I think hides one sweet dream, and it is this:
To one day meet a man of higher birth—
To win his heart,—to feel his tender kiss—
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This too has been my dream; wherein your face
Shone like a beacon.
[Repels RALPH as he starts forward.]
But I know your race,
Too well, too well. I know how such dreams end,
You could not claim me in your land, my friend,
For colour prejudice is rampant there.
RALPH
(impetuously)
But I will stay for ever here, I swear,—
FLOWER GIRL
Nay, do not swear, you would but break the vow
As many another has. Our tropic sun
Affects men like a fever; when 'tis run,
Then their delusions pass. Oh leave me now;
I hear the whistle of your ship,—adieu!
Alohoa oie—may God be with you.
[Enter ETHEL hurriedly]
Come, Ralph, your mother and your sister wait
Quite frantic at the pier, lest you be late.
They sent me for you.
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| Poems of experience | |