Thetall carnations down the garden walks
Bowed on their stalks.
Said Jock-a-dreams to John-a-nods,
“What are the odds
That we shall wake up here within the sun,
When time is done,
And pick up all the treasures one by one
Our hands let fall in sleep?” “You have begun
To mutter in your dreams,”
Said John-a-nods to Jock-a-dreams,
And they both slept again.
The tall carnations in the sunset glow
Burned row on row.
Said John-a-nods to Jock-a-dreams,
“To me it seems
A thousand years since last you stirred and spoke,
And I awoke.
Was that the wind then trying to provoke
His brothers in their blessed sleep?” “They choke,
Who mutter in their nods,”
Said Jock-a-dreams to John-a-nods.
And they both slept again.
The tall carnations only heard a sigh
Of dusk go by.
At the Granite Gate
Therepaused to shut the door
A fellow called the Wind.
With mystery before,
And reticence behind,
A portal waits me too
In the glad house of spring,
One day I shall pass through
And leave you wondering.
It lies beyond the marge
Of evening or of prime,
Silent and dim and large,
The gateway of all time.
There troop by night and day
My brothers of the field;
And I shall know the way
Their woodsongs have revealed.
The dusk will hold some trace
Of all my radiant crew
Who vanished to that place,
Ephemeral as dew.
Into the twilight dun,
Blue moth and dragon-fly
Adventuring alone,—
Shall be more brave than I?
There innocents shall bloom
And the white cherry tree,
With birch and willow plume
To strew the road for me.
The wilding orioles then
Shall make the golden air
Heavy with joy again,
And the dark heart shall dare
Resume the old desire,
The exigence of spring
To be the orange fire
That tips the world’s gray wing.
And the lone wood-bird—Hark,
The whippoorwill night long
Threshing the summer dark
With his dim flail of song!—
Shall be the lyric lift,
When all my senses creep,
To bear me through the rift
In the blue range of sleep.
And so I pass beyond
The solace of your hand.
But ah, so brave and fond!
Within that morrow land,
Where deed and daring fail,
But joy forevermore
Shall tremble and prevail
Against the narrow door,
Where sorrow knocks too late,
And grief is overdue,
Beyond the granite gate
There will be thoughts of you.
Exit Anima
“Hospes comesque corporis,
Quae nunc abitis in loca?”
Cease,Wind, to blow
And drive the peopled snow,
And move the haunted arras to and fro,
And moan of things I fear to know
Yet would rend from thee, Wind, before I go
On the blind pilgrimage.
Cease, Wind, to blow.
Thy brother too,
I leave no print of shoe
In all these vasty rooms I rummage through,
No word at threshold, and no clue
Of whence I come and whither I pursue
The search of treasures lost
When time was new.
Thou janitor
Of the dim curtained door,
Stir thy old bones along the dusty floor
Of this unlighted corridor.
Open! I have been this dark way before;
Thy hollow face shall peer
In mine no more. . . . .
Sky, the dear sky!
Ah, ghostly house, good-by!
I leave thee as the gauzy dragon-fly
Leaves the green pool to try
His vast ambition on the vaster sky,—
Such valor against death
Is deity.
What, thou too here,
Thou haunting whisperer?
Spirit of beauty immanent and sheer,
Art thou that crooked servitor,
Done with disguise, from whose malignant leer
Out of the ghostly house
I fled in fear?
O Beauty, how
I do repent me now,
Of all the doubt I ever could allow
To shake me like the aspen bough;
Nor once imagine that unsullied brow
Could wear the evil mask
And still be thou!
Bone of thy bone,
Breath of thy breath alone,
I dare resume the silence of a stone,
Or explore still the vast unknown,
Like a bright sea-bird through the morning blown,
With all his heart one joy,
From zone to zone.
Scituate, June, 1895.
Transcriber’s Note:One ten-line block of the title poem, beginningYet while they last how actual they seem!and endingWithout a flaw.was printed without a stanza break. This may be a typographical error, but it was left as printed.One illustration was changed for the second edition, issued by a different publisher. Shown are the title page, the new illustration for “Exit Anima”, and the back page.
Yet while they last how actual they seem!
Without a flaw.
Exit Anima, illustration from second edition
publisher's back-page logo from second edition