The Project Gutenberg EBook of Contrasted Songs, by Marian Longfellow This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 at www.gutenberg.org Title: Contrasted Songs Author: Marian Longfellow Release Date: February 11, 2013 [EBook #42076] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONTRASTED SONGS *** Produced by Greg Bergquist, Mary Akers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) Transcriber's note: Minor spelling and punctuation inconsistencies have been harmonized. The original use of accented words has been retained. Missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the original text. Marian Longfellow Title Page CONTRASTED SONGS BY MARIAN LONGFELLOW logo BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER The Gorham Press 1905 Copyright 1904 by Marian Longfellow All Rights Reserved Printed at THE GORHAM PRESS Boston, U. S. A. In Perpetual and Loving Remembrance of M. P. F. Who Has Gone Before, and of E. T. L. Who Still Walks with Me, These Songs are dedicated by The Author PREFACE In presenting to the public the within collection, some of which were published originally under the nom- de-plume of "Miriam Lester," I have had to go into the highways and byways to gather the children who had strayed into various paths. Some have been easily found in books of which they were a part, and I desire to thank the editors of "The Library of Religious Poetry," the family of the late Charles Henshaw Dana, of Worcester, Mass., the Boston "Herald," and others for permission to use such. The task of gathering the children who made their debut within the columns of the Boston "Transcript," the Eastport "Sentinel," the Washington "Post," the "Saturday Gazette" (Boston), and other journals, has been no light task, and some are still straying beyond my ken. Among these "Contrasted Songs" I trust that the reader will find something to which the heart may respond. Faithfully yours, Marian Longfellow. Washington, D. C. CONTENTS PAGE. A Song of the Sea 11 The Spirit of the Water 12 With the Tide 13 Grand Manan 14 Leeward 15 A Song in the Evening 19 Meadow Bloom 21 The Iris 23 Liebeslied 27 Longing 27 On the Sea 29 The Red Rose 30 The Maiden and the Boat 30 My Ship 32 An Old Song 33 To Miss H., Wearing a Rose 34 The Cloud 35 Sehnsucht 36 Selection 38 The Mansion that Endured 41 The Chimes 44 Francis Coster's Story 48 The Old Cemetery 53 Lines on Immortality 54 A Dream 54 On Empyrean Heights 56 A Little While 61 Reverie 62 Heimweh 64 Grand Manan 65 Madeleine 66 Where the Shadows Play 67 A Valentine 68 The Martins 69 Never Again 70 Hadst Thou Denied 72 Why Should I Remember if you Forget 73 To H. N. T. 74 And They Shall Rise Again 77 Mine Onward Path 78 After Many Days 79 Some Day 80 Lake Winnepesogee 81 Jesus of Nazareth Passeth By 82 Nearer My Rest 83 So Many Years 83 Sorrow 84 Unknown 85 Our Birthright 89 Lexington 89 O Land of our Birth 91 Our Flag 92 The National Flower 94 Roll Muffled Drums 97 The Dead Musician 98 The Nation Weeps 100 In Memoriam 101 In Memoriam 102 Consolation 103 SONGS OF THE SEA A SONG OF THE SEA The mystic sea is singing its golden song to me; I bend to catch its murmur in silent ecstasy; Till, as the music ringeth in sweet and solemn tone, An answering echo waketh a music all mine own! The sea sings softly, softly upon my listening ear, And still its notes fall ever in cadence full and clear. The song that waxeth stronger within my beating heart Seems but a second measure—seems of the sea a part! And far from all the burdens that day brings in its train, My soul hath found Elysium—renews its youth again! I hear the golden billows beat on the rock-bound shore, And still my heart is singing that sweet song o'er and o'er! O happy Youth, how quickly the sands of life have run! The shades of eve are falling ere yet the day is done! The golden sea eternal beats loud and strong and free, And bears upon its bosom a joy eternally! THE SPIRIT OF THE WATER 'Tis the Spirit of the Water! it breathes upon the sea; As phantom in its motions it glides mysteriously! I see the snow-clad islands that deck the opal bay, And the Spirit of the Water now robed in mist and spray. The charm that clings eternal to ocean fills my soul, As mist-wreathed waves in grandeur pass on unto their goal! Ye phantoms on Life's ocean! how like the mist ye seem, As backward turneth memory across Life's glow and gleam! For ye figure forth Life's pleasures, its cares, its tears and pain, And recall with all their glamour Youth's joyous dreams again! While still the fateful presence glides on across the wave, Nor lifts its veil of mystery until we reach the grave! O speak! is it endeavor, or is it blighted faith? Or is it but the passing of pain—this silent wraith? We know not, oh, we know not here, for o'er Life's restless sea We too glide on, as phantoms all, this side Eternity! WITH THE TIDE 11 12 13 Calm seas that lie 'neath summer skies And mirror back those skies to me, Upon whose breast white sails arise And glide like spirits grand and free. Calm seas beneath whose hidden deep Are wonders far beyond my ken, There, rocked in murmuring currents, sleep The secrets not revealed to men! Peace, like a white-winged dove descends And hovers o'er the waters bright, While glory of the sunset blends With tones of the approaching night. My glad soul bids thee welcome, and Goes forth upon the ocean's tide! Far from the care that fills the land, To where my spirit would abide! Till, as the cares of day depart And the glad sea its greeting calls, I rise unshackled, strong of heart, And from my life the burden falls! Thus in this quiet nook I find All that I longed and sought in vain In the world's haunts, my soul to bind, And, seeking, found but grief and pain. Now, like a blessing falls thy grace, O grand, beloved, glorious sea! Drawn by thy message, face to face, My longing greets thy mystery! GRAND MANAN (1881) 14 O solemn cliffs of Grand Manan! In silent might ye rise, As bounded by th' eternal sea And by the azure skies! Like a proud soul that stands apart, Unknown, unloved, unsought, Ye guard your stronghold silently Through many battles fought. The sea-gull sweeps across your wall, And seaward shapes his course! While at your feet the waves beat loud In measure wild and hoarse. O solemn heights! O grand and calm! Ye hold my heart in thrall! And not a sound is heard beyond The ocean's rise and fall. But as the waves beat strong and loud Upon your rugged shore, Through it the sea's sad monotone I hear forevermore! The sunset glow hath kissed your heights, As loth to leave you yet; And, bathed in glories red and gold, The eve and you have met. The boat speeds on—we may not stay, But from my brooding heart Your image, while this life remains, Can nevermore depart! LEEWARD O for the bounding wave, and the salt, salt spray on my face! For the sweep of the filling sail, and its free, untrammeled pace! For the life that hath no bound to its path but the open sea; For the soul as free as air, that by right belongs to me! For power to cast aside these fetters dark and strong, To bound over heaving deep—and no more to feel the thong That cuts through the quivering heart and the restless soul, as well! I yearn for a fuller life, with a might I cannot quell! O for the bounding wave, and the salt, salt spray on my face! For the strength to grasp and hold the plan of a waning race. For might to compel the tide in its turn to serve my will, That my heart of the fountain deep, may drink to the brim its fill! SONGS OF THE FIELDS AND WOODS A SONG IN THE EVENING 15 19 O sweetest bird that ever sang In notes of wild rejoicing; Thine even-song as first it rang, Was thrilling in its voicing! I felt thy rapture as I heard Thy song in all its beauty; To me it scarce seemed but a bird; 'Twas life, and love, and duty! I could not see thy tiny form, As softly closed the gloaming; And like a wanderer in the storm My heart was blindly roaming. While, as thy song rang pure and clear O'er sweet smell of the haying, Mem'ry sped back through many a year, Both light and shade displaying. And still thy notes of reed-like tone Came clear o'er mead and river, With tender meaning all its own, And trilled and trilled forever! "O heart," it sang, "let thine own life Become a song to others, That thou mayst count them in the strife Not alien, but as brothers! Sing on, sing on, thy notes repeat, Sing life, and love, and duty, That mystic three whose names replete Are e'er with heavenly beauty. Sing life, the gift of ray divine That pierced the gloom of even; The first upon our path to shine, A heritage of Heaven! And love—oh, what were life without This second gift eternal, That bids the glad earth blossom out In summer's garb supernal! Yet love and life were both in vain Were duty not a flower That springs beneath the blesséd rain To crown Life's darkest hour!" Not unto me a bird, that eve, In notes of earth was singing, But a pure voice its way did cleave From Heaven its message bringing! MEADOW BLOOM 20 21 My one wee bud that grows in the meadow, Far apart from the flaunting garden blooms, Afar, where the brook and birds are singing, And the soft noon haze o'er the distance looms. My one wee bud, but to grow so bravely Where the rushes rise from the moorland green, Where birds skim close o'er the grassy billows And the low breeze murmurs its plaint between. My one wee song I sing in the even, When the home doth gather its loved ones close, And the world's afar and hearts grow nearer, And the jar of life sinks into repose. My one wee song, like a flower growing In this life of mine that were else so bare! Ah! shalt thou go forth to do my bidding— My love, shall he cull it as blossom fair? Ah! flower and song, be this thy meaning, Thy mission of love in the world is clear; The grace once born of seed sown in shadow Shall bloom in the hearts that now hold thee dear! A SONG OF THE AUTUMN Scarlet and gold and crimson, Their banners flung to the breeze, Like monarchs' brilliant vesture The ranks of the maple trees. Golden and brown and russet The oaks in their Autumn dress; Soldiers in ranks deploying, To the front they onward press. Pale in their coats of yellow, Tinged and with orange flecked, The chestnuts on the hillside, As with royalty bedecked. Scarlet and gold and crimson, And golden and russet brown; Pale with a sun-kissed yellow Are the leaves now fluttering down. Garb of the season's bringing, Majestic it decks the hills, And Autumn's lavish splendor The soul with its beauty fills. THE IRIS Adown the grassy hill they come, To greet me, every morn; Those little maids (in Norman caps) Of joy and spring-time born. They march demurely, side by side, How many pair there be! Far as mine eye can reach, their forms In green and white I see. 22 23 Each sister wears with youthful grace Her snowy Norman cap, And in the long procession there I see no pause or gap. And so, I watch to see them come As morn by morn I pass, The green of shimmering robe and glint Of snow within the grass. They never speak and yet they nod A friendly greeting there, And all their beauty round me seems A fragrance in the air. I speak to them? Oh, yes, I speak And lovingly I bid Them welcome every summer morn, Those maids with downcast lid! They are so modest, pure and fair; They are so very sweet, I fain would linger there and call Them clustering round my feet. Far backward in the view my eyes The slow procession see, And yet they never leave the path Nor can they speak to me. 'Tis the flag-lily growing tall Amid the meadow grass; The Iris, as we often call Each snowy-snooded lass. In couples stately, there they stand As far as eye can scan, And round them waves the nodding grass As homage due from man. They stand a line of vestals pure, Or each a sweet-faced nun; While on each snowy cap there falls The radiance of the sun. Although the power of speech may not Be theirs in worldly phrase, They teach a lesson just as true, And just as full of praise. In their allotted path they walk, And fill their destined end, Their beauty gladdens every eye, As down the hill they wend. O flower-sisters, if ye make One heart in rapture rise; If ye but waken one pure thought To bloom in Paradise. Then have your lives, though brief, as boon To mortal man been given, To draw from earth his sordid thoughts And bid them rest on Heaven! LIEBESLIEDER 24 25 26 LIEBESLIED Like a frail shell on the breast of the ocean Sways now my heart to the rhythm of thine! Cradled, is borne on the crest of emotion, Sinks in the deep of a languor divine! And as the shell the wild waves onward carry, So doth thy love bear my heart to its shore! Here on its golden sands blissful to tarry Held in thy fond clasp to wander no more! Lay thy dear lips to my lips, oh my lover,— Read in mine eyes all my tongue may not tell! Love, as a bee, gaily sips (gallant rover!), Rove thou no more—nay, I yield to thy spell! I LONGING Oh, to be out on the Ocean! where the waves beat wild and free, Where there's naught 'twixt the sky and billows but the boat, and you, and me! Where the winds with their touch caress us, and the sea-gulls sweep on high, And the bell, from its rocky outpost, sends forth its warning cry! Oh, to be out on the Ocean! with the cold, salt spray to dash Athwart the bows of the vessel, and foaming, to merrily lash The boat to freer effort, as she plunges a-thrill with life O'er the crest of the bounding billows and above their surging strife! Oh, to be out on the Ocean! with no heart 'twixt you and me! With no bond that must bind forever here, but strong and brave and free! With the song of grand old Ocean, as it lulls us on its breast,— With the thought of a perfect union, and of perfect love and rest! Oh, to be out on the Ocean! although storms rise dark and strong, Though by wind and by wave through the tempest we sweep our way along; Till the stars come out in the Heavens, and the wind has sunk to rest, And I list to words of comfort as I lean on your faithful breast! Oh, to be out on the Ocean! and to leave the din and strife, To taste but once more of freedom and to drink of the wine of life! Oh, to be out on the Ocean! where the waves beat wild and free, With naught 'twixt the sky and the billows but the boat, and you and me! II ON THE SEA (The Answer) 27 28 29 We are sailing over the crest of the billow, Afar from the world and its sorrow and pain; While I on thy soft breast my head now may pillow And lull me to rest and to peace once again! Nay, Love, how thy heart in its prison is beating! It throbs 'neath mine ear as a fluttering bird; While swift to my lips comes thy low song, repeating The lilt of the waves, in a measure half-heard! "For oh! to be out on the Ocean, the Ocean,— And oh! to be far from the world, Love, with thee!" It rises and falls with the waves' rhythmic motion, Is filled with night's balm as with starbeams the sea! "With naught 'twixt the sky and the billows"—now singing The words keep repeating the tender refrain— "But the boat,"—comes once more in cadence clear ringing,— "'Twixt the sky and billows"—I hear it again! Now, "save thee and me"—falls the song in its measure Across the wide Ocean of thought, love, from thee, And I know to my heart's deep, mysterious treasure, Thy love, like a bird, flies to harbor with me! Nay, how could we dream that o'er Time's trackless ocean Thy soul, thus responsive, should answer to mine? Or, that out of the chalice of silent emotion My heart drink in equal communion with thine! THE RED ROSE I pinned a red rose o'er my heart, The rose my lover gave to me, With many vows and tender words, My love, my own, I love but thee. I wore the red rose o'er my heart, That summer day with gladness, And knew not doubt nor haunting care, Nor slightest touch of sadness. But ah! a thorn's within my heart, A thorn of false love's planting, Deceit had pressed its bitter sting, My life forever haunting. I took the red rose from my heart, No more, oh love, 'tis blowing, The thorn lies deep within my breast, Where never sign is showing. THE MAIDEN AND THE BOAT 30 A fair little boat went sailing the sea, Far over the bright blue wave; And she dipped and curt'sied, gay and free, As became a craft so brave. A blithe young maiden a song of love Sang out on the summer air; The birds took the notes, on their boughs above And answered her, cheerily, there! As the boat went out and over the bar The white sails set to the breeze, Her clear song followed on pinions afar; The birds sang forth from the trees. O boat in your path to the rising sun, To that land beyond the sea, Pray, what is the cargo,—your journey done— You will bear her, if Fate decree? For you take her heart (on your snowy deck) Where Love is now High Priest, And you take her troth—may there be no wreck, No tempest out of the East! Will you bring her the perfect love she gave, And keep it unsoiled and true? Will you bring her a heart as strong and brave As the one she gives to you? Else what does it matter if wreck betide; Or the sun go down in cloud? It were better for her, this day, you died Than that Love should wear a shroud. It were better far that her song were mute, To swell forth a later day; For Love that hath never a constant root Must fade and wither away. So boat sail on, if you be not true; And maiden, oh hush that song! For the years that are coming swift to you Bear a dearer love along! MY SHIP One day I cast my lot upon the troublous tides of life, And ventured all my hoarded love upon its fitful strife. On one frail mortal like myself I set the store of years, And freighted well the ship that day with all my hopes and fears. With all my hopes (for fears were not, upon that happy day), And never sign of cloud uprose above my sunlit way! Ah, me! can life e'er bring again such perfect trust as this, Such eager hopes, such joyous dreams of ever present bliss? My ship sailed forth—to many a storm she bared her gallant breast And still she sails the wide, wide seas, but never finding rest. One day! Ah, me! 'tis years ago since first I saw her sail, And sent my prayers and tears for her above the gathering gale! Will she come back, my noble ship, and captain brave and crew Of joys and hopes and high resolves, of love both deep and true? Or, solemn thought! shall she ne'er find the haven here below, But anchor in the "silent land," beyond Life's ebb and flow, Beyond vain fret and fond regard, and strivings e'er to see The reason why so oft denied our dearest hopes should be! 31 32 AN OLD SONG "Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine," I read in this old song, anew, this living love of thine! The old, old song that in the days now swift and sure are fled, Recalls its sparkle and its mirth, oblivious of its dead! It served to bear as lover's gift all tender thought and true, It wove among the garlands sweet red roses, never rue! "Drink to me only with thine eyes," ay with thy tender eyes— And read in mine, half-veiled from thee, my own heart's sweet surprise! "And I will pledge with mine," dear love, yea, pledge a thousand-fold The hours of life that thou alone in mem'ry shalt enfold. Only within thy dark, grave eyes would I be mirrored now, And only from thy folded lips learn love's own cherished vow. "Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine!" While overhead, above life's stream, shines out love's star divine. And life no more is dark and drear, and storms no more may break Where love's own glorious light shines forth and bids the heart awake! TO MISS H., WEARING A ROSE (May 13, 1890) O happy rose that bloometh upon her gentle breast! Of all thy joyous hours, this is, in truth, the best! Not sweeter is thy fragrance upon the balmy air Than her pure spirit sheddeth, so blithe and debonnaire! O happy rose that lieth upon that bosom white, To thee kind Fate hath granted a goal of pure delight! In vain I sigh and murmur, thy lot all envious view, And seek in vain to stifle this moment's pungent rue! O happy rose, as lying beneath her light caress, Now whisper to her softly, what I may not confess, And tell her she is fairer than bloom of earth, to-night, In that her soul exhaleth all virtues pure and bright! THE CLOUD A Cloud scarce larger than a feather Uprose in Love's bright sky one day, But, ah, it grew to stormy weather And shrouded all the sun's bright ray! A little cloud! but ah, the sorrow That springs from bitter words that jar; How deep the pain from which we borrow,— How strong the wall that forms the bar! We may in after-hours grow tender And strive to read our lives aright, But if to Love its due we render, We know Life's thread, at best, is slight! What if the look, the word, but spoken, Had been "the last" we ever met? Ah! Life had been too short, too broken, Its pang forever to forget! 33 34 35