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AH, BE NOT FALSE

Of the tiny mouth, and lo!

From those eyes two tearlets flow; ·
Just two kisses, and they go!
Like a sunburst after showers,
Like white light upon the flowers,
Now again the dimples show.

But she could not understand
Why so long the answer waited
For the loved and not the hated,
While he held that little hand,

And like a bird she sang and said, –
Half in earnest, half in fun,·
"Do you love me, Solemn One?
Do you love me, Cousin Ed?

Do you love me? Do you love me?
Love me, love me, Cousin Ed?"

INDIRECTION

223

I SAW not the leaf

But its shadow trembling, trembling down.

I faced to northward, to my grief,

When from the southern sky a crimson meteor lit the

star-dark town.

I saw not naked Love

Lean from his porphyry throne above

And touch her heart to flame,

Yet on her brow I saw the swift, sweet, virgin shame.

"AH, BE NOT FALSE"

Aн, be not false, sweet Splendor!
Be true, be good;

Be wise as thou art tender;

Be all that Beauty should.

Not lightly be thy citadel subdued;
Not ignobly, not untimely.

Take praise in solemn mood;
Take love sublimely.

THE ANSWER

THROUGH starry space two angels dreamed their flight, 'Mid worlds and thoughts of worlds, through day and

night.

Then one spake forth whose voice was like the flower That blossoms in the fragrant midnight hour.

This white-browed angel of the other asked:

"Of all the essences that ever basked

In the eternal presence; of all things,

All thoughts, all joys, all dreads, all sorrowings
Amid the unimaginable vast-

Being, or shall be, or forever past —

Profound with dark, or hid in endless light
Which of all these most deep and infinite?”

Then did the elder speak, the while he turned
On him who asked clear eyes that slowly burned
The spirit through, like to a living coal:
"No depth there is so deep as woman's soul."

HOW DEATH MAY MAKE A MAN

DEATH is a sorry plight,

It bringeth unto man

End of all delight.

Yet many a woeful wight

Only dying can

Quit him like a man.

CAME TO A MASTER OF SONG

Dawdling, drawling, silly,

Maundering, scarce a man;

Driven will y-nilly;

When he's dying will he

Run as once he ran,

Or quit him like a man?

Vile from out the wrack

Crawls he less than man;

Cowering in his track

Beaten, broken, black;

Curse him if you can

Death may make him man.

In life the wretch did naught
Worthy of a man;

Now by Death he's caught,
What a change is wrought!

Whom the world did ban
Quits life like a man.

Braced stiff against the wall,
Behold, at last, a man.

Lost

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life and honor, all!

At Death's quick touch and call

See, the craven can

Quit him like a man.

"CAME TO A MASTER OF SONG”

CAME to a master of song

And the human heart

One who had followed him long

And worshiped his art;

225*

One whom the poet's singing
Had lured from death,
Joy to the crusht soul bringing
And heaven's breath;

Came to him once in an hour
Of terror and stress,

And cried, "Thou alone hast power
To save me and bless;
Thou alone, pure heart and free,
Canst pluck from disaster,

If to a wretch like me

Thou wilt stoop, O master!"

Answered the bard with shame, And sorrow and trembling: "Was I false, was my song to blame? Was my art dissembling?

I of all mortals the saddest,

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SOME from books resound their rhymes Set them ringing with a faint, Sorrowful, and sweet, and quaint Memory of the olden times,

Like the sound of evening chimes.

Some go wandering on their way
Through the forest, past the herds,
Laughing maidens, singing birds;
On their sylvan lutes they play —
Danceth by the lyric Day!

MERIDIAN

Bards there be the deep sky under
Who in high, authentic verse
Mysteries and moods rehearse
With a voice like Sinai's thunder,
Chanting to a world of wonder.

And those have sung whose melody,
Drawn from out the living heart
With a quick, unfaltering art,
Hath power to make the listener cry:
"God in heaven! It is I."

227

MERIDIAN

HENCEFORTH before these feet

Sinks the downward way;

A little while to greet

The light and life of day,

Then night's slow fall
Ends all.

Now forward, heart elate,

Tho' steep the pathway slope.
Time yet for love and hate,
Joy, and joy's comrade, hope,
Ere night's slow fall

Ends all.

Still the warm sky is blue,

No fleck the sunlight mars;

"Twixt hills the sea gleams through;

With twilight come the stars;

And night's slow fall

Ends all.

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