The Project Gutenberg eBook ofSong-wavesThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Song-wavesAuthor: Theodore H. RandRelease date: October 14, 2008 [eBook #26916]Most recently updated: January 4, 2021Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Al Haines*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONG-WAVES ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Song-wavesAuthor: Theodore H. RandRelease date: October 14, 2008 [eBook #26916]Most recently updated: January 4, 2021Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Al Haines
Title: Song-waves
Author: Theodore H. Rand
Author: Theodore H. Rand
Release date: October 14, 2008 [eBook #26916]Most recently updated: January 4, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Al Haines
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONG-WAVES ***
Theodore H. Rand. _After a painting by J. W. L. Porter_Theodore H. Rand.After a painting by J. W. L. Porter
Theodore H. Rand. _After a painting by J. W. L. Porter_Theodore H. Rand.After a painting by J. W. L. Porter
Entered according to Act of theParliament of Canada, in the yearone thousand nine hundred, byEMELINE A. RAND, at theDepartment of Agriculture.
PAGETo EMELINE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .13SONG-WAVES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .17A bird on sudden, as I write . . . . . . . . . . . .48Above the scarred cliff's iron brow . . . . . . . .23Across the hills the cattle call . . . . . . . . . .39After the winds there is surcease . . . . . . . . .24All day an ashen light serene . . . . . . . . . . .55A quiet breath distils in calm . . . . . . . . . . .33As on a hill-top near the sun . . . . . . . . . . .46As turns my heart its crimson leaves . . . . . . . .53Break into flower, O garden fair . . . . . . . . . .93Calm soul, unkindled by the sight . . . . . . . . .36Celestial sweetness swift outstrips . . . . . . . .61Dimly beheld, thou excellent . . . . . . . . . . . .57Doubt flies before the truth that's quired . . . . .28Fair as the light on fire-tipt hills . . . . . . . .58Far off and veiled it seems to me . . . . . . . . .34Far up the brook, beyond the lin . . . . . . . . . .78Filled oft with portents, oft withdrawn . . . . . .25Frail Lucia of a mutual love . . . . . . . . . . . .87Fresh sprig of greenest southernwood . . . . . . . .49Green tracery of fern to rust . . . . . . . . . . .74Hail, Mary, honored of the race . . . . . . . . . .86Her steps fall sweet as summer rain . . . . . . . .60Hope's clear blue eye is open wide . . . . . . . . .82How swift soft-feathered Time sails on . . . . . . .71I dreamed I drew my parting breath . . . . . . . . .80I feel the season's dreamy call . . . . . . . . . .50If mighty angels fair and tall . . . . . . . . . . .38I keep one picture in my heart . . . . . . . . . . .52Immortal Love, immortal ruth . . . . . . . . . . . .94Impressions vast and vague flow in . . . . . . . . .19I see that power is not in art . . . . . . . . . . .83I would enshrine in silvern song . . . . . . . . . .13Like oxeye daisies of the field . . . . . . . . . .91Look now! The crested waters sleep . . . . . . . .70Love bows herself in holy prayer . . . . . . . . . .45Love's inspirations of the lyre . . . . . . . . . .90Man's highest word, as God's above . . . . . . . . .44Men plow and sow while moves the sun . . . . . . . .27My quickened sense can only plod . . . . . . . . . .72Never before has my ear heard . . . . . . . . . . .56O glorious light! Thy limpid wave . . . . . . . . .85O June has lit her splendid lamp . . . . . . . . . .32O patriot, ruler, leader great . . . . . . . . . . .88O soul that art essential change . . . . . . . . . .17Over the brow of lofty scar . . . . . . . . . . . .69Philosophy doth dig and draw . . . . . . . . . . . .65Pure lily, open on the breast . . . . . . . . . . .30Revolving without rest and goal . . . . . . . . . .31Says one who with the sad condoles . . . . . . . . .76Spirit of song, life's golden ray . . . . . . . . .18Sunshine, O soul, is not a mood . . . . . . . . . .47Superbest power with sweetness wed . . . . . . . . .22Sure in this realm of Sense and Time . . . . . . . .54Sweetheart, I dedicate to thee . . . . . . . . . . .16The bird of needle beak, and breast . . . . . . . .29The flecks of gold that glorify . . . . . . . . . .41The full ripe year, these maple hills . . . . . . .79The ideal is a lifting sky . . . . . . . . . . . . .42The infinite in grand repose . . . . . . . . . . . .66The mirrored silence of this pool . . . . . . . . .68The scarlet arch of evening fills . . . . . . . . .63The sovereign law of human life . . . . . . . . . .92The spirit firm and swelling soul . . . . . . . . .43The sweep, O heart, of Love's account . . . . . . .21The sword and spear and savage knife . . . . . . . .89The "trees of God," the prophet said . . . . . . . .40The world's a train at speeding rate . . . . . . . .81There are no solitudes to view . . . . . . . . . . .37There ever wakes an evil wraith . . . . . . . . . .77This golden-browed September land . . . . . . . . .51This tiny life, with exquisite wings . . . . . . . .64Thus wrought the Seen-Unseen the spell . . . . . . .15'Tis fit the bloodroot in white hood . . . . . . . .20Two lives made one, the man and wife . . . . . . . .67Unnumbered traits shine in thy face . . . . . . . .62Unveiled as kinsman, Love did seek . . . . . . . . .84Vast promise is the sea, and vast . . . . . . . . .35We talked of bird and flower and tree . . . . . . .14What nature mirrors and reveals . . . . . . . . . .73What though the sea-shell cheats the ear . . . . . .75Who loveth not the elm tree fair . . . . . . . . . .26With lathe of viewless hyaline . . . . . . . . . . .59THE WHITETHROAT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .95SUMMER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .97GLORY-ROSES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .100THE WIND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .103THE CRYSTAL SPRING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .104AY ME! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .111THE YEARS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .112THE NOTE OF NATURE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .114AT THE FORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .117REPOSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .120
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would enshrine in silvern songThe charm that bore our souls along,As in the sun-flushed days of summerWe felt the pulsings of nature's throng;
When flecks of foam of flying spraySmote white the red sun's torrid ray,Or wimpling fogs toyed with the mountain,Aërial spirits of dew at play;
When hovering stars, poised in the blue,Came down and ever closer drew;Or, in the autumn air astringent,Glimmered the pearls of the moonlit dew.
We talked of bird and flower and tree,Of God and man and destiny.The years are wise though days be foolish,We said, as swung to its goal the sea.
Our spirits knew keen fellowshipOf light and shadow, heart and lip;The veil of Mâyâ grew transparent,And hidden things came within our grip.
And then we sang: "In ArcadyAll hearts are born, thus happy-free,Till film of sin shuts out the VisionThat is, and was, and that is to be."
Thus wrought the Seen-Unseen the spellTo which our spirits rose and fell.As drops of dew throb with the ocean,We felt ourselves of His tidal swell.
"Nature's enchantment is of Love,—Goodness, and truth, and beauty wove;In Him all things do hold together,And onward, upward to Him they move."
And as we spake the full moon came,A splendid globe in silver flame,From out the dusky waste of waters,Reposeful sped by His mighty name.
Sweetheart, I dedicate to theeThese Song-Waves from life's voiceful sea.They ebb and flow with swift occasion,Bearing rich freight, and perhaps debris.
Each murmuring low its song apartMay hint a symphony of art,Since under all, within, and over,Is diapason of Love's great heart.
For thee, as on the bridal day,(Sweet our November as the May!)Are joined in one our high communings;So take them, dear, as thine own, I pray.
TORONTO, 1900.
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soul, that art essential change,Bickering beams, a flutter strange,Lightning of thought and gust of passion,A silver thread in this mountain range;
The waters of thy shimmering rill,More real are they than granite hill;Thy tremulous waves of mystic feelingNourish a life of enduring will.
The sun and moon from spacious height,And stars, may crumble into night;Why shouldst thou cease to move forever,A living glow of eternal light?
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pirit of Song, life's golden rayThat burneth in this house of clay,Despite the stress of blast and tempestTo quench the flickering light and play;
Rapture of seraphs bright thou art,Yet kindlest in the human heartThe fluid soul's upbreathed emotion,Whose light shines clear as a star apart,—
A fairer light of sweeter fameThan science knows to praise or blame,Wherein the soul has open vision,And feels the glow of His holy flame.
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mpressions vast and vague flow inFrom Somewhat that to me is kin.Shall I assemble them all carelessIn the mind's garret or waste dust-bin?
Nay. In solution in the soul'sOwn hot equators, frosty poles,I'll more and more their import cherish,Their deeps on deeps to my shelving shoals.
O heart, with tentacles in sea,Like oral-disked anemone,Taste thou the wine of shoreless oceans,And feed on food that was meant for thee!
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is fit the bloodroot in white hoodShould brave the parting winter's mood,—Come, thou, pale violet, streaked, sweet-scented,Beside the runs of this tempered wood.
I hunger for thy gentle face,Sweetest of all the wildwood race!O flower, at once ideal and essence,Why stayest thou from thy wonted place?
Thou art not dead? Nay, when death creptUpon thy form, thy full life leaptDefiance at the harsh destroyer,And slept as seed! Thou hast overslept.
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he sweep, O heart, of Love's account!Hearken: "I am of life the Fount;All are within My deeps of Being,The toiling city, the sea, the mount.
"Yea, when thou cleav'st the pillared tree,Raisest the stone, I am with thee;Darkness and light, flux and becoming,Signal My presence, and ceaselessly.
"Regard Me not as though afar;Ope thine heart's eyes, and, lo, My StarBurns 'neath Time's vesture, true Shekinah,Centre and Soul of the things that are."
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uperbest power with sweetness wedThe inner eye doth overspread,And vasts of nature blend as beautySuffused with awe at the Fountain Head.
The stream of power that floweth hereI see in pageant of the year,Aye shimmering as light and shadow—A wonderment on the verge of fear!
The world's not dead but animate,And gives as free to mean as great;Wealth of true power is not a kingdomOf time and place, but the soul's estate.
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bove the scarred cliff's iron browThere speeds the fruitful crooked plow;While on the soft west wind come odorsOf plumy pine and of balsam bough.
Here at the base another sight—It ceaseth not by day nor night—Ormudz and Ahriman contending,Destroyer dark and White Soul of light!
Bared by life's ever beating brine,The rocky bases that defineOf good and ill the place of meeting,Be bugle-call to this heart of mine!
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fter the winds there is surcease;Take courage, heart, and be at peace;The printless beach, all combed and shining,In beauty lies with its windrow fleece.
Impetuous as a torrent's speedWhite horses raced this watery mead,With manes of chrysoprase aflowing,Each neighing loud to its neighbour steed.
The wastes that finger pebbly shores,Unplowed by ship nor cut by oars,His music wake as sweet as attar,And flash in light as the heavenly floors.
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illed oft with portents, oft withdrawn,My inward skies, from earliest dawnTo this full hour, have borne their witnessOf one who out of the darkness shone.
The soul is dowered with awful things,Mystic as sound of unseen wings,—The sense of God, of Law, of Duty,Of Life, and Destiny. Signet rings
Flash on these fingers of one hand—The Hand of God! The mean, the grand,Tremble beneath the fearsome covertTill lurid sky with the Rainbow's spanned.
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ho loveth not the elm tree fair,A fountain green in summer air,Whose tremulous spray cools the faint meadow,And croons to all of a careless care?
It shades the city's paven way,Where redbreast knows the white moon's ray;It sentinels the moss-grown homestead,And waits the men of a coming day.
Its curving lines that fill the sight,Like mellow meteor's path of light,Or orbèd spring of walls of azure,My spirit greet from the infinite.
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en plow and sow while moves the sunAway, away from work begun;Ofttimes they've heard "Seedtime and harvestAre sure"—the word of the Sovereign One.
We link our deeds with law supreme,In field and flood, in wood and stream;We test Omnipotence by labor,And reap rewards of no idle dream.
Obedience is the astringent wineThat's quaffed by strenuous souls and fine,Of cloudy doubt the heavenly solvent,The Christ's elixir of life divine.
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oubt flies before the truth that's quiredWhen earth in living green 's attired,As ghosts before the daystar's rising,—The grass is ever God finger-spired.
When life is low my awe-stirred soulNo vision has of nature's whole;It would unsheathe a weapon nakedAnd cut the bands of divine control.
The Nazarene knows no decrease,—He shed His beams on Rome and Greece!O radiant is His word: ConsiderThe springing grass, and have rest and peace!
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he bird of needle beak, and breastOf orange flame, doth weave its nestAt tip of branch, a cradle swingingTo all the airs of the south and west.
Who schooled thy needle to beginIts forth and back and out and in,Till plaited cot, a gourd-like pendant,Shall temper winds to thy first of kin?
Thy sun-bright mate, his joy to prove,Flutes sweet his ardors from above.O golden robin, skyey-nested,
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ure lily, open on the breastOf toiling waters' much unrest,Thy simple soul mounts up in worshipLike ecstasy of a spirit blest!
Thy wealth of ivory and gold,All that thou hast, thou dost unfold!Fixed in the unseen thy life breathes upwardA heavenly essence from out earth's mould.
Now comes the chill and dusk of night,—Folds up thy precious gold and white!Thy casket sinks within veiled bosom,To ope the richer in morrow's light.
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evolving without rest and goalThe way of life of budding soul,From seed to leaf and stalk, I see it,From leaf to bloom and from bloom to whole.
About the Daystar, God-indwelt,It turneth to His influence felt,Till, dusk beam-smitten into daylight,It in the palpitant heavens doth melt.
Lift, lift, ye gates of endless noons,That entrance yield on God's own boonsOf liberty as law in fruitage,And timeless months of transcendent Junes!
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June has lit her splendid lampIn the broad meadow lush and damp,Where loves the brook in loops to loiter,And tufted vernal to pitch its camp!
Last night she veiled the starlit sky,And walked beside the brook so shy;She took from out her beating bosomA lighted orchis—and passed on high.
At dawn July came o'er the hills—O light of eye and deep heart-thrills,As she beheld the glowing orchisWhose splendor now all the meadow fills!
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quiet breath distils in calm,And fills the fields with honeyed balm;It cools the rose's cheek, and rollethIn drops of dew on the poppy's palm—
Each crystal globe filled full of fire,And flashing like a color pyre,All heavened beneath the eye of morning,To sate the hunger of day's desire.
O Breath divine, that form and hue,And ecstasy of light and blue,Gave to Orion and the Pleiads,Thou hast begotten the orbs of dew.
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ar-off and veiled it seems to me,The face of yester dreamy sea,That breathed so soft its shining watersPungent with odors of rosemary.
No sculptured arabesque to-day,But unhewn strength in mighty play,That heaves the ship on bursting billowAnd smites the cliff in its ancient way!
Beneath its silken vestments beatA lion heart of jungle heat;Its couchant soul delights in battleTo fell the rock and to whelm the fleet.
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ast promise is the sea, and vastIts pain. Its secret is held fast,—Now hope's wide open eye and sunny,And now a weeping and wailing past.
(I have a grievance unredrestThat stings my heart and rends my breast,—Perhapsitgathers in its bosomThe sorrows wild of the world's opprest?)
Deformity or pain unstringsThe music of the soul of things,—Ah, suns burn bright in eyes of panther,And lightnings leap in the eagle's wings!
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alm soul, unkindled by the sightOf open heavens at noon of night,Thou'lt dread the fires of day of judgmentWhen roll the skies as a parchment slight.
He waits not for that upward gaze—The world is full of judgment days;And every night the page is written,"An atheist," or "Behold he prays!"
Ah, me! These lights so manifold,So silvern new, so golden old,Do witness swift, like fires of vengeance,Against indifferent hearts and cold.