Chapter I: Know How Mary Felt, There in the Hay,

MY LITTLE SON WAS BORN ON CHRISTMAS DAY!

SINGING ON THE MARCH

God put a song into my heart one day,
A little song as light as ocean form,
A little song of love and hope and home,
A little song to cheer me on my way.

And though I bowed beneath the load I bore,
I found that, when I sang, the way was bright,
And that my footsteps swifter grew, and light;
And all my life seemed fairer than before.

God has a song that fits in every heart,
And though that song may seem a tiny thing,
It is your task--so forge ahead, and SING--
And you will find that you have done your part!

EASTER

He came to call last night--
And we began to talk, as young folk will,
Half carelessly, and half in awe, of God.
It was the springtime, and the night was still
And fragrant, all about us.
And the sod
Was fresh with tender grass,
And overhead a crescent moon shone bright.
And, "God," he said, "Has built the world on laws,
"Like some great watch, and every breathing space
"Is measured; and the system has no flaws,
"And nothing moves from its appointed place.
"God is the Master Scientist," he said,
His voice was bold and had a ring of truth--
But God seemed ponderous, and far away....

And then a gentle breeze danced overhead,
And caused the timid, new-born leaves to sway,
And we began to talk of love, and youth.

And then, I sent him home, and went upstairs,
To my still room, and flung the windows wide;
And as I knelt to say my evening prayers
I saw the stars, far smiling, in the sky.
And, all at once, I knew the reason why
I worshipped God... knew why He had sent
His son to save the world from sin and shame;
And, suddenly, like some sweet, healing tide,
The meaning of my life swept over me;
And, through the dark, my groping soul could see
The Christ Who loved us, and was crucified.

And, as I knelt and watched the star's faint shine,
I felt God's hand, a moment, touching mine!

RESURRECTION

You took the lilt from my heart of hearts,
And the breath of song from my soul;
And the mind of me that had once been free
And buoyantly young, and whole;
Grew calm and still as a barren sea,
Where never a star beam shone,
A sea where never a ripple danced--
That reflected your face along.

I walked in a daze down well-worn paths--
Paths that your feet had trod;
I thought your thoughts and I spoke your tongue,
I knelt to your hostile God.
And the dreams that had been a part of me,
I tossed with a sigh away,
And left to rust in the misty dust
Of the land called Yesterday.

My hands lay folded in slim repose,
Quite as you bade them rest;
Folded, meek, o'er the leaden heart
That tortured my gypsie breast.
And I smiled with my lips--my eyes were numb--
I smiled for I never knew,
That the mind of me was a lifeless sea,
Reflecting the face of you!

You took the lilt from my carefree life,
And the song from my singing heart;
But there came a day when the world grew gray,
When I knew that we must part....
So I tore you out of your soul-bound shrine--
And, oh, though it caused me pain,
I raised my face to the sky and knew
That my song would come again!

THE QUEEN

"Barefooted came the beggar maid,"
So ran the minstrel's lay--
"Barefooted came the beggar maid
"Before the King Corpethua."
But, oh, her face was like a light,
Her hair was black as middle night,
And whispers ran from left to right--
"She is more beautiful than day!"

"In robe and crown the king stepped down,"
So ran the minstrel's lay--
"In robe and crown the king stepped down,
"To meet and greet her by the way."
And so the beggar maid became,
A Queen, but just a queen in name,
For, with her gypsie eyes aflame,
Her mirror heard her say--

I was a beggar maid, I used to lie
Silent and unafraid, beneath the sky,
And watch the stars--my little sisters, they,
I used to wake at dawning time of day
To plunge my body in some mountain stream--
I was a beggar maid!
Is this a dream,
This golden crown I wear upon my head?
This robe of royal purple and of red,
This rope of pearls, this ring, these silken shoon?

Not long ago the silver crescent moon
Was like a hand that beckoned me to stray,
And cities seemed vast centuries away;
And as my feet--swift feet, they were, and light--
Carried me through the wonder of the night,
I never thought of kings, or kingly power--
My life was all one splendid, singing hour!

I love my king--He raised me from the dust,
And looked at me with wonder, and with trust;
My hair hung, tangled, to the waist of me,
He brushed it from my eyes, that he might see
Deep into them!
He set me on his steed,
He never knew my name, or asked my creed,
He just believed in me--and told me so.
I love my king, I love him well, but, oh--
Once I wore poppies, red upon my brow,
(A crown seems very heavy to me, now,)
And once I wore, for all the world to see
A gown of rags. (Now, velvets stifle me!)
And once my hands (how soft they are!) were strong
To toil for me.
The days seem very long
While I must sit in state above the land--
I love my king... But does he understand?
I was a beggar maid, I used to lie
Silent and unafraid beneath the sky--
And, now that I am queen, my being longs
To hear, once more, the little slumber songs
Of night birds nesting in some forest tree--
I want to be myself, again, and free!
I want to climb the crest of some great hill,
And watch the sunset clouds, again, and thrill
Before the color of them! I would stand
Alone, once more, and see the wistful land
Take on the tint of twilight.
I would pray
My gypsie prayer, again, at close of day!

I love my king--for he has given me
Rare pearls, the treasure of a sighing sea,
And rubies, red as sunset clouds a-glow
And opals like the wistful winds that blow
At twilight-time.

But I would wear, instead,
Wild forest flowers, twined about my head--
And I would dance, barefooted, on the sod,
An innovation to my pagan God!

Am I a queen? What is this crown I wear?
I tear it from my smoothly plaited hair--
I lay my ring, my rope of pearls, aside;
Am I a queen--am I a monarch's bride?
The soul of me is still a gypsie thing--
I pull them off, the glowing gems, the ring....

I love my king, I love him well--but, oh,
GIVE ME MY RAGS, AGAIN, AND LET ME GO!

FRAGMENTS

A WITHERED ROSE

A book of verse,
And one withered rose
Between two pages....

My love is as faded as the petals,
But still faintly fragrant
With sweet memories.

ASHES OF LOVE

Dust on the letters you sent me
And I did not know that they had been forgotten.

Does it mean that I love again?

IT'S LOTS OF FUN--

It's lots of fun to play around,
To dance and sing;
And not be tied to anyone,
Or anything!

It's lots of fun to live my life,
Beneath the sky;
To have no one who owns the right
To question "Why"?

It's lots of fun to come and go,
Through storm and strife,
With no one by my side who hopes
To mould my life.

(But sometimes at the twilight time,
When night birds cry;
I dream, perhaps, that something fair
Has passed me by!)

And yet--it's good to play around,
To laugh and sing;
And not be tied to anyone,
Or anything!

VALENTINE

I wonder if you know, up there in heaven,
That I have kept your roses, crumpled now.
I wonder if you guess that still I treasure
A faded ribbon that once touched your brow.
I wonder if you dream, as dusk is falling,
Of how I read that note you sent to me.
I wonder if you think, up there in heaven,
Of all the golden days that used to be.

I wonder if you smile up there in heaven,
And pass by, lightly, in your robes of white;
Or if you sometimes think of me a little.
You seem so near, so very near tonight.
I wonder if that last shy kiss I gave you
Can make you lonely, just a bit, for me.
I wonder if you long, up there in heaven,
For all the golden plans that used to be.

Do they have valentines up there in heaven?
A love like mine is surely strong to go
The little way from earth to where you wait me,
Although it be beyond the stars' faint glow.
I want you dear; my tired heart is calling;
My eyes are searching, though they may not see;
I wonder if you're lonely, there in heaven,
For all the golden dreams that used to be.

THE SACRIFICE

I started out in a cloak of pride,
With talent, too, that I did not hide;
I started out on Life's stony road,
Ambition's weight was my only load,
And the way seemed fair in the dawn's first glow,
And I hurried--ran--FOR I DID NOT KNOW!

Love smiled from a garden by the way,
And called to me, but I would not stray
From the road that stretched like a ribbon white,
Up endless hills to an endless night.
Love smiled at me, but I pushed ahead,
And love fell back in the garden--dead--
But I did not care as I hastened by,
And I did not pause for regret or sigh....
The road before was a path of hope,
And every hill with its gentle slope
Led up to heights I had dreamed and prayed
To reach some day--
Ah! I might have stayed
With Love and Youth in the garden gay,
That smiled at me from beside the way.

I plodded up, and the gentle hills
Grew hard to climb, and the laughing rills
Were torrents peopled with sodden forms;
The sky grew black with the threat of storms,
And rocks leaped out and they bruised my feet,
And faint I grew in the fever heat.
(But ever on led the path that lay
As grey as dust in the waning day.)
My back was bent, and my heart was sore,
And the cloak of pride that I grandly wore
Was rent and patched and not fair to see--
Ambition, talent, seemed naught to me....
But I struggled on 'till I reached the top,
FOR ONLY THEN DID I DARE TO STOP!

I stood on the summit gazing down,
And the earth looked sordid and dull and brown,
And neutral-tinted and neutral-souled;
And all of life seemed a story told,
And the only spot that was bright to see
Was a patch of green that had bloomed for me
Where a garden lived in a spring long fled,
When Love stood smiling--
BUT LOVE WAS DEAD!

TO A CERTAIN ROOM

Your room is still the dainty little place,
That used to seem so much a part of you--
The draperies of faded rose and blue
Still hold a shadow of their former grace.
The windows still are hung with frosty lace,
And sometimes, when the moonlight glimmers
through,
I watch your mirror, half expecting to
See once again, reflected there, your face!

And yet, the little room seems much too neat,
It seems quite colorless, and very bare,
Because the filmy things you used to wear
Are laid away. Because the perfume sweet
That clung about you has been swept aside....
Your room is there--but, oh, its soul has died!

OTHER DAYS

I wonder if you ever dream of other days,
Because, sometimes, at twilight when the sunset
plays
Half wistfully across the polished oaken floor,
I see you smiling--standing in your place once more.

(Do you remember little things we used to say?
They wouldn't mean so very much to us to-day....
Do you remember how I wore a gown of blue,
Because it brought the haze of autumn clouds to you?
Do you remember how I said you didn't care--
And how you laughed at me and rumpled up my
hair?
Do you remember how the tears stood in my eyes
At your good-by when darkness overhung the skies?)

I wonder if you ever dream of other days?
Because, sometimes at twilight when the sunset plays
Half wistfully across your empty cozy-chair,
I turn and half expect to see you smiling there!

THIS IS TO YOU, DEAR,
TO YOU, UNKNOWING;
JUST AS THE SOUTH WIND
WISTFULLY BLOWING
TOUCHES SOME FLOWER--

SO IS MY SONG, DEAR,
THROUGH EVERY HOUR,
ALL THE DAY LONG, DEAR,
TO YOU, UNKNOWING!

AT TWILIGHT

You came to me through the candlelight,
When the world, outside, was grey....
You came to me through the candlelight
When the day was done, and the misty night
Crept through the land.
And your eyes were bright,
And they seemed to laugh and pray.
You came to me through the candlelight,
And you took my hands, and you held them tight,
And you didn't speak, but, dear, I KNEW--
And my heart and my soul were part of you.

You came to me through the candlelight,
When the world, outside, was grey;
And I looked in your eyes and, glowing there,
I saw a hope and I read a prayer;
And I knew, at last, that I didn't care,
If life were a troubled, weary way,
As long as I walked with you.
You came to me, at the close of day,
Through the candlelight--when the world was grey--
And dreams of Heaven seemed strangely new....
And I told you, dear, to stay!

THERE ARE SUCH WEARY LITTLE LINES

There are such weary little lines about the mouth of
you,
Such tragic little mirthless lines--they mock at
dreams come true,
And twist your lips when you would smile, until all
joy is dead,
And I, who want to laugh with you, am fain to
weep instead!

There are such dreary little lines about the mouth of
you,
They make me want to whisper that summer sky is
blue,
And that the rain is like a lance of silver through
the air,
And that the flowers in the lane are growing tall
and fair!

There are such tired little lines about the mouth of
you--
As if you thought that life was cold and loving
friends were few....
They are such lonely little lines I think that I, some
day,
Will creep close to you in the dusk, and kiss them
quite away!

THREE SONGS OF AWAKENING

1.

The flowers spring from the broken heart,
Of the frozen winter sod--
Rending their prison bars apart,
They smile in the face of God!

The birds sweep up to the wind-blown plain,
E'er ever the land knows spring;
To sway on a budding branch again,
To challenge the world, and sing!

And I with my tired eyes a-dance,
And my weary heart a-flame;
Have felt the call of the old romance,
And thrilled to a whispered name!

2.

I saw a sky as blue as eyes I know,
I felt a breeze, as soft as kisses, blow;
And, dear, I saw one golden sunbeam creep
From Heaven, lighting all the world below,
Like love that wakens, dewy-eyed, from sleep!

3.

We who have wondered know the answer, now;
For Spring stands, joyous, on the purple brow
Of the far hill; and doubt is swept away,
And all the mirth-mad world makes holiday!

We who have wandered long, and half afraid,
Find answer in each dreaming woodland glade;
HEARTS THAT HAVE BROKEN MAY BE BOUND TOGETHER,
WHEN SPRING HAS TRIUMPHED OVER WINTER WEATHER!

IN A CANOE

Starlight, and the silver lake
Clasp the skies--
And two nearer, dearer stars,
Your eyes!

Elfin voices seem to call
Through the night,
But your arms are warm, and they
Hold me tight.

Pallidly the moon slides down,
Hour by hour slips;
Ah, the deathless magic of
Your lips!

Dark the shadows as we creep
Past the shore--
Dear, that we might drift like this
Evermore!

CAPTIVE-HEART

Now that the day is done I am ready to greet you,
Smiling, the way that I know you would have me
smile;
I will open the door, and will run down the walk
to meet you,
As if I had missed you, dear, for a weary while!
I will listen, breathless, the while you tell of your
toiling,
All day long in the dust and the city's heat;
And, dear, you will never know that my blood is
boiling--
Back of the smile that is calm and tenderly sweet.

You will never know that the soul of me, dear, is
flying,
Out where the seagull dips in the ocean's foam;
You will never know that something of me is dying,
Every night as I smile and welcome you home.
You will never know that my heart is soaring above
you--
You will be content with my mask of a smile--
KNOWING I LOVE YOU!

EVENING SONG

I do not want to be worshipped,
From a distance;
Like some idol carved in wood,
Or stone.
I want to be loved
As every real woman
Wants to be loved!

And so....
Lay aside the book that you are reading from--
What if Leander did swim the Hellespont?
And what if burning Sappho
Did sing?
What do I care for
Launcelot and Elaine,
Or Tristram and Isolt,
Or Aucassin and Nicholette?

Lay aside the book that you are reading from,
And cross the room quickly,
And take my cold hands between your two
Warmer ones....
And here, in the vivid dusk,
We will make our own love songs!

AFTER A DAY OF WAITING

All day long I waited--waited with soul aflame--
And then through the still of evening, humming a
tune, you came;
Came with a jest on your smiling lips, and eyes that
were all too gay;
And the light died out of my waiting heart with the
words that I could not say.

We laughed through the star-flecked twilight--what
though my laugh was strained?
You, who were there beside me, laughed with a mirth
unfeigned!
And at last when I bade you leave me you went, and
you never knew
That with soul aflame I had waited, all through the
day, for you.

INTANGIBLE

Dear, you are like the summer dusk to me,
The summer dusk when all the world seems still;
When purple shadows creep along the hill,
And birds are softly crooning in each tree.
You are the gentle-cool-eyed mystery
Of twilight hours. Sometime I think you will
Melt from me out into the dark, until
You turn to star-shine, silvering the sea.

Dear, even when your head is on my breast,
You seem no nearer than a moonbeam thrown
Across my heart. Your fingers have caressed
My hair so lightly that I scarce have known
Their pressure. You are like that time when rest
Steals up so softly that one feels alone!

AT FIRST SIGHT

Seeing you once, how can I forget
That our eyes have smiled and our hands have met?
That our souls have known and our hearts have cried,
Though our lips were dumb.
Ah, the world is wide,
And love there is for us both to know--
But my eyes were dim as I watched you go!

You may wander far, you may come no more,
But you hold the key to the inmost door
Of my heart of hearts!
For our hands have met,
And our eyes have smiled, and I CAN'T FORGET!

FIVE SONNETS

I. THE COMING

I know that Love will come to me, some day,
Though I have never loved, or looked on Love;
I know that Love will wait beside the way
And smile at me. The tender skies above
Will be alight with all the joy of spring,
And flowers will life their heads above the earth,
And some far bird will stay its flight and sing,
And fill the land with silver throated mirth.

I know that Love, at last, with smiling eyes,
Will pause beside my half-swung cottage door,
And I will lift my gaze, without surprise,
To see his shadow dance across the floor.
I know that Love will come to me, some day,
When springtime blossoms, shyly, into May!

II. REALIZATION

I know that you are not the one that I
Should fall in love with, for your eyes are blind
To all the things that make my world the kind
I want to live in. Often, when I cry
At some vague beauty that has caught my eye,
You laugh! You cannot dream the dreams I find,
In forest places where dim pathways wind
Up to the Heaven-land so far and high.

I know that I should never learn to care,
And yet, sometimes the blueness of your eyes
Can make me half forget the smiling skies....
And, when I see the sunlight on your hair,
I do not stop to reason, dear, for oh--
My heart throbs faster, and I know--I know!

III. THE RAIN OUTSIDE

You close beside me, and outside, the rain,
Which, stealing through the darkness of the night,
Seems tapping out with fingers softly light,
A world-old song upon my window pane--
A song of happiness with a refrain
That throbs in suffering. You hold me tight,
Your eyes, that search my own, are warmly bright,
Your lips touch mine again, and yet again!

Ah, what though years must pass, though you and I
May live our lives, quite silently, apart?
Whenever rain comes, when the day is through,
And, tapping on my casement, seems to sigh,
A dream will blossom, fragrant, in my heart,
A dream of youth eternal, and of--you.

IV. I USED TO WRITE

I used to write so many songs of love--
I wrote them carefully, I did not know
That love was more than moonlight from above,
And pretty words set in an even row,
I held my pencil calmly in my hand,
And sang of arms and lips and tender eyes;
I wrote of love--who did not understand--
And hoped that folk would think me very wise!

I used to write so many songs... To-day
My hands are folded, and I cannot sing,
I sit, instead, and watch the sunlight stray
Across my desk. And I am wondering
If God, who lights a million stars each night,
Laughed at the groping words I tried to write!