He sees us not, nor heeds the din Of clanging car and scuffling throng; His eyes see fairer sights within, And memory hears the robin’s song As once it trilled against the day, And shook his slumber in a room Where drifted with the breath of May The lilac’s sweet perfume.

The heart of boyhood in him stirs; The wonder of the morning skies, Of sunset gold behind the firs, Is kindled in his dreaming eyes: How far off is this sordid place, As turning from our sight away He crushes to his hungry face A purple lilac spray.

Anthology of Massachusetts Poets — Part 17

GOD, THROUGH HIS OFFSPRING NATURE, GAVE ME LOVE

Anthology of Massachusetts Poets — Part 17

God, through his offspring Nature, gave me love, Though man in opposition saith me nay, And taketh from my heart its life to-day, As through the valley of the world I rove. Still unaccompanied, within the grove That doth enamored beings hold at play, My spirit must pursue its lonely way, And strive to pluck some flowers that bloom above. Oh, wherefore then doth Nature give desire To have that which mankind may not possess, And force him to endure on earth hell’s fire, And live in one perpetual distress? Some evil power must such love inspire, And with it masquerade in Cupid’s dress!

Anthology of Massachusetts Poets — Part 17

“Music, the language, the atmosphere of the Soul.”

Fly back where Melodies like lilies grow, My weary heart is bending low;

Fly higher yet to joyful realms above, Where holy Angels dwell in love.

Fly higher still and hear the Angel throng And bring to me their Glory-song:

Ah Music, thou and I above the World May dwell where heaven with shining song is pearled!

While Sun and Moon and all the planets roll I’ll love thee, Music, language of my soul!

Music-lark from on high, song that doth fly, Spark of the sky!

High in the apple bough jauntily swinging, Hid by the branches in bridal array, Straight from his heart, all his life in his singing, Chants a wee bird, lures his mate with his lay. “Sweet, sweet, my sweet, Hear I entreat! Say, love, together, this bright sunny weather, Gold of the west we shall weave in a nest! Have no fear! Trust me, dear! Sunshine of May that will gild every day Pledge I to thee if thou’lt harken to me.”

Lo! in the light thro’ the gay branches streaming, Quivering in answer to all the bird sings, Warm on a breath, leaps a soul with love gleaming, Speeds to its mate on its glittering wings. “Dear, on thy breast Earth yields its best! Loud in the singing I heard thy call ringing, Pleading and strong in the voice of the song, Whisper low,—Yes, just so!— Softly revealing the depth of thy feeling, Words in whose fire glow thy love and desire.”