April 12th, 1910.
I step across the mystic border-land,
And look upon the wonder-world of Art.
How beautiful, how beautiful its hills!
And all its valleys, how surpassing fair!
The winding paths that lead up to the heights
Are polished by the footsteps of the great.
The mountain-peaks stand very near to God:
The chosen few whose feet have trod thereon
Have talked with Him, and with the angels walked.
Here are no sounds of discord—no profane
Or senseless gossip of unworthy things—
Only the songs of chisels and of pens,
Of busy brushes, and ecstatic strains
Of souls surcharged with music most divine.
Here is no idle sorrow, no poor grief
For any day or object left behind—
For time is counted precious, and herein
Is such complete abandonment of Self
That tears turn into rainbows, and enhance
The beauty of the land where all is fair.
Awed and afraid, I cross the border-land.
Oh, who am I, that I dare enter here
Where the great artists of the world have trod—
The genius-crowned aristocrats of Earth?
Only the singer of a little song;
Yet loving Art with such a mighty love
I hold it greater to have won a place
Just on the fair land’s edge, to make my grave,
Than in the outer world of greed and gain
To sit upon a royal throne and reign.
CONTENTS
| PAGE | |
| Worth while | [1] |
| The House of Life | [3] |
| A Song of Life | [6] |
| Prayer | [8] |
| In the Long Run | [10] |
| As you go through Life | [12] |
| Two Sunsets | [14] |
| Unrest | [18] |
| Artist’s life | [20] |
| Nothing but Stones | [22] |
| Inevitable | [24] |
| The Ocean of Song | [26] |
| “It might have been” | [29] |
| Momus, God of Laughter | [30] |
| I Dream | [32] |
| The Sonnet | [34] |
| The Past | [35] |
| A Dream | [36] |
| Uselessness | [37] |
| Will | [38] |
| Winter Rain | [39] |
| Life | [40] |
| Burdened | [41] |
| Let them go | [42] |
| Five Kisses | [44] |
| Retrospection | [48] |
| Helena | [50] |
| Nothing Remains | [52] |
| Comrades | [54] |
| What Gain? | [56] |
| To the West | [58] |
| The Land of Content | [60] |
| Warning | [62] |
| After the Battles are over | [63] |
| And they are dumb | [71] |
| Night | [73] |
| All for me | [75] |
| Into Space | [77] |
| Through Dim Eyes | [79] |
| The Punished | [81] |
| Half Fledged | [82] |
| The Year | [84] |
| The Unattained | [85] |
| In the crowd | [87] |
| Life and I | [89] |
| Guerdon | [91] |
| Snowed Under | [92] |
| “Leudemanns-on-the-river” | [94] |
| Little Blue Hood | [97] |
| No Spring | [99] |
| Midsummer | [101] |
| A Reminiscence | [103] |
| A Girl’s Faith | [105] |
| Two | [107] |
| Slipping Away | [109] |
| Is it done? | [111] |
| A Leaf | [113] |
| Æsthetic | [115] |
| Poems of the Week | [117] |
| Ghosts | [120] |
| Fleeing away | [122] |
| All mad | [124] |
| Hidden Gems | [126] |
| By-and-bye | [127] |
| Over the May Hill | [129] |
| Foes | [131] |
| Friendship | [133] |
| Two sat down | [135] |
| Bound and free | [137] |
| Aquileia | [139] |
| Wishes for a little girl | [142] |
| Romney | [144] |
| My Home | [146] |
| To marry or not to marry? | [148] |
| An Afternoon | [150] |
| River and Sea | [152] |
| What happens? | [153] |
| Possession | [154] |
WORTH WHILE
It is easy enough to be pleasant
When life flows by like a song,
But the man worth while is the one who will smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with the years,
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth
Is the smile that shines through tears.
It is easy enough to be prudent
When nothing tempts you to stray,
When without or within no voice of sin
Is luring your soul away;
But it’s only a negative virtue
Until it is tried by fire,
And the life that is worth the honour on earth
Is the one that resists desire.
By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,
Who had no strength for the strife,
The world’s highway is cumbered to-day—
They make up the sum of life;
But the virtue that conquers passion,
And the sorrow that hides in a smile—
It is these that are worth the homage on earth,
For we find them but once in a while.