Chapter I: Heard the Desert Calling

I heard the desert calling, and my heart stood still--
There was winter in my world and in my heart;
A breath came from the mesa, and a message stirred my will,
And my soul and I arose up to depart.

I heard the desert calling, and I knew that over there
In an olive-sheltered garden where the mesquite grows,
Was a woman of the sunrise with the star-shine in her hair
And a beauty that the almond-blossom blows.

In the night-time when the ghost-trees glimmered in the moon,
Where the mesa by the water-course was spanned,
Her loveliness enwrapped me like the blessedness of June,
And all my life was thrilling in her hand.

I hear the desert calling, and my heart stands still--
There is summer in my world, and in my heart;
A breath comes from the mesa, and a will beyond my will
Binds my footsteps as I rise up to depart.

THE FORGOTTEN WORD

Once in the twilight of the Austrian hills,
A word came to me, wonderful and good;
If I had spoken it--that message of the stars--
Love would have filled thy blood;
Love would have sent thee pulsing to my arms,
Laughing with joy, thy heart a nestling bird
An instant passed--it fled; and now I seek in vain
For that forgotten word.

WHAT WILL IT MATTER?

What will this matter, dear, when you and I
Have left our sad world for some fairer sky?
What will it matter, dear, when, far apart,
We miss the touch of hand and beat of heart;
When one's at peace, while unto one is given
With lonely feet to walk the hills at even?
What will it matter that one fault more now
Brings clouds upon one eager mortal brow,
That one grace less is given to one poor soul,
When both drink from the last immortal bowl?
For fault and grace, dear love, when we go hence
Will find the same Eternal recompense.

THE COURIER STAR

Into a New World wandered I,
A strong vast realm afar;
And down the white peaks of its sky,
Beckoned my courier star.

It hailed me to mine ancient North,--
The meadows of the Pole;
It whistled my gay hunters forth,
It bugled in my soul.
On plateaux of the constant snow
I heard the meteors whir;
I saw the red wolves nor'ward go
From my low huts of fir.

The dun moose ran the deep ravine,
The musk-ox ranged the plain;
The hunter's song dripped in between
In notes of scarlet rain.

The land was mine: its lonely pride,
Its distant deep desires;
And I abode, as hunters bide,
With joy beside its fires.

Into a New World wandered I,
A world austere, sublime;
And unseen feet came sauntering by;
A voice with ardent chime
Rang down the idle lanes of sleep;
I waked: the night was still;
I saw my star its sentry keep
Along a southern hill.

O flaming star! my courier star!
My herald, fine and tall!
You gestured from your opal car,
I answered to that call.
I rose; the flumes of snow I trod,
I trailed to southward then;
I left behind the camps of God,
And sought the tents of men.

And where a princely face looked through
The curtains of the play
Of life, O star, you paused; I knew
The comrade of my day.
And good the trails that I have trod,
My courier star before;
And good the nor'land camps of God:
And though I lodge no more

Where stalwart deeds and dreams rejoice,
And gallant hunters roam,
Where I can hear your voice, your voice,
I drive the tent-peg home.

THE WORLD IN MAKING

When God was making the world,
(Swift was the wind and white was the fire)
The feet of His people danced the stars;
There was laughter and swinging bells,
And clanging iron and breaking breath,
The hammers of heaven making the hills,
The vales, on the anvils of God.
(Wild is the fire and low is the wind)

When God had finished the world,
(Bright was the fire and sweet was the wind)
Up from the valleys came song,
To answer the morning stars;
And the hand of man on the anvil rang,
His breath was big in his breast, his life
Beat strong 'gainst the walls of the world.
(Glad is the wind and tall is the fire)

HEW

None shall stand in the way of the lord,
The Lord of the Earth--of the rivers and trees,
Of the cattle and fields and vines:
Hew!
Here shall I build me my cedar home,
A city with gates, a road to the sea--
For I am the lord of the Earth:
Hew! Hew!
Hew and hew, and the sap of the tree
Shall be yours, and your bones shall be strong,
Shall be yours, and your heart shall rejoice,
Shall be yours, and the city be yours,
And the key of its gates be the key
Of the home where your little ones dwell.
Hew and be strong! Hew and rejoice!
For man is the lord of the Earth,
And God is the Lord over all.

O SON OF MAN

"Son of man, stand upon thy feet
and I will speak to thee."

O son of man, behold
If thou shouldst stumble on the nameless trail,
The trail that no man rides,
Lift up thy heart,
Behold, O son of man, thou hast a helper near!

O son of man, take heed
If thou shouldst fall upon the vacant plain,
The plain that no man loves,
Reach out thy hand,
Take heed, O son of man, strength shall be given thee!

O son of man, rejoice:
If thou art blinded even at the door,
The door of the Safe Tent,
Sing in thy heart,
Rejoice, O son of man, thy pilot leads thee home!

AT THE END OF THE WORLD

In the lodge of the Mother of Men,
In the land of Desire,
Are the embers of fire,
Are the ashes of those who return.
Who return to the world;
Who flame at the breath
Of the Mockers of Death.
O Sweet, we will voyage again
To the camp of Love's fire,
Nevermore to return!

O love, by the light of thine eyes
We will fare over-sea;
We will be
As the silver-winged herons that rest
By the shallows,
The shallows of sapphire stone;
No more shall we wander alone.
As the foam to the shore
Is my spirit to thine,
And God's serfs as they fly,--
The Mockers of Death--
They will breathe on the embers of fire
We shall live by that breath.
Sweet, thy heart to my heart,
As we journey afar,
No more, nevermore, to return!

WAYFARERS

War does the fire no longer burn?
(I am so lonely)
Why does the tent-door swing outward?
(I have no home)
Oh, let me breathe hard in your face!
(I am so lonely)
Oh, why do you shut your eyes to me?
(I have no home)

Let us make friends with the stars;
(I am so lonely)
Give me your hand, I will hold it;
(I have no home)
Let us go hunting together:
(I am so lonely)
We will sleep at God's camp to-night.
(I have no home)

THE RED PATROL

He stands in the porch of the World--
(Why should the door be shut?)
The grey wolf waits at his heel,
(Why is the window barred?)
Wild is the trail from the Kimash Hills,
The blight has fallen on bush and tree,
The choking earth has swallowed the streams,
Hungry and cold is the Red Patrol--
(Why should the door be shut?)
The Scarlet Hunter has come to bide--
(Why is the window barred?)

He waits at the threshold stone--
(Why should the key-hole rust?)
The eagle broods at his side,
(Why should the blind be drawn?)
Long has he watched and far has he called--
The lonely sentinel of the North--
"Who goes there?" to the wandering soul
Heavy of heart is the Red Patrol--
(Why should the key-hole rust?)
The Scarlet Hunter is sick for home,
(Why should the blind be drawn?)

Heavy of heart is the Red Patrol--
(Why should the key-hole rust?)
The Scarlet Hunter is sick for home,
(Why should the blind be drawn?)
Hungry and cold is the Red Patrol--
(Why should the door be shut?)
The Scarlet Hunter has come to bide,
(Why is the window barred?)

THE YELLOW SWAN

In the flash of the singing dawn,
At the door of the Great One,
The joy of his lodge knelt down,
Knelt down, and her hair in the sun
Shone like showering dust,
And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn.
And she cried to her lord,
"O my lord, O my life,
From the desert I come;
From the hills of the Dawn."
And he lifted the curtain and said,
"Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?"

And she lifted her head, and her eyes
Were as lights in the dark,
And her hands folded slow on her breast,
And her face was as one who has seen
The gods and the place where they dwell;
And she said, "Is it meet that I kneel,
That I kneel as I speak to my lord?"
And he answered her, "Nay, but to stand,
And to sit by my side;
But speak: thou has followed the trail,
Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?"
And she stood as a queen, and her voice
Was as one who hath seen the Hills,
The Hills of the Mighty Men,
And hath heard them cry in the night,
Hath heard them call in the dawn,
Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan.
And she said, "It is not for my lord";
And she murmured, "I cannot tell;
But my lord must go as I went,
And my lord must come as I came,
And my lord shall be wise."

And he cried in his wrath,
"What is thine, it is mine,
And thine eyes are my eyes,
Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan."
But she answered him, "Nay, though I die.
I have lain in the nest of the Swan,
I have heard, I have known;
When thine eyes too have seen,
When thine ears too have heard,
Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt."

And he lifted his hand to strike,
And he straightened his spear to slay;
But a great light struck on his eyes,
And he heard the rushing of wings,
And his long spear fell from his hand,
And a terrible stillness came:
And when the spell passed from his eyes
He stood in his doorway alone,
And gone was the queen of his soul
And gone was the Yellow Swan.

THE HEART OF THE PIONEER

My dear love, she waits for me,
None other my world is adorning;
My true love I come to thee,
My dear, the white star of the morning.
Eagles, spread out your wings,--
Behold where the red dawn is breaking!
Hark, 'tis my darling sings,
The flowers, the song-birds, awaking--
See, where she comes to me,
My love, ah, my dear love!

THE NORTH TRAIL

"Oh, where did you get them, the bonny, bonny roses
That blossom in your cheeks, and the morning in your eyes?"
"I got them on the North Trail, the road that never closes,
That widens to the seven gold gates of Paradise."
"O come, let us camp in the North Trail together,
With the night-fires lit and the tent-pegs down."

ALONE

O, O, the winter wind, the North wind--
My snow-bird, where art thou gone?
O, O the wailing wind, the night wind--
The cold nest; I am alone.
O, O my snow-bird!

O, O, the waving sky, the white sky--
My snow-bird, thou fliest far;
O, O the eagle's cry, the wild cry--
My lost love, my lonely star.
O, O my snow-bird!

THE SCARLET HILLS

Brothers, we go to the Scarlet Hills--
(Little gold sun, come out of the dawn.)
There we will meet in the cedar groves--
(Shining white dew, come down.)
There is a bed where you sleep so sound,
The little good folk of the Hills will guard,
Till the morning wakes and your love comes home--
(Fly away, heart, to the Scarlet Hills.)

THE WOODSMAN LOVER

High in a nest of the tam'rac tree,
Swing under, so free, and swing over;
Swing under the sun and swing over the world,
My snow-bird, my gay little lover--
My gay little lover, don, don! . . . don, don!

When the winter is done I will come back home,
To the nest swinging under and over,
Swinging under and over and waiting for me,
Your rover, my snow-bird, your lover--
My lover and rover, don, don! . . . don, don!

QUI VIVE

Qui vive!
Who is it cries in the dawn,
Cries when the stars go down?
Who is it comes through the mist,
The mist that is fine like lawn,
The mist like an angel's gown?
Who is it comes in the dawn?
Qui vive! Qui vive! in the dawn.

Qui vive!
Who is it passeth us by,
Still in the dawn and the mist--
Tall seigneur of the dawn,
A two-edged sword at his thigh,
A shield of gold at his wrist?
Who is it hurrieth by?
Qui vive! Qui vive! in the dawn.

Qui vive!
Who saileth into the morn,
Out of the wind of the dawn?
"Follow, oh, follow me on!"
Calleth a distant horn.
He is here--he is there--he is gone,
Tall seigneur of the dawn!
Qui vive! Qui vive! in the dawn.

THE LITTLE HOUSE