{"1": {"fulltext": "\\\\ws^ ;s", "height": "3582", "width": "2349", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\nChap. Copyright No.\\nShelf. .A\u00c2\u00b1L$ 4-\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3508", "width": "2201", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3508", "width": "2201", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "Beyond the Hills\\nof Dream\\nBy W. Wilfred Campbell\\nBoston and New York\\nHoughton, Mifflin and Company\\n1899", "height": "3508", "width": "2201", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "TWO COPIES RECEIVED\\nlibrary of Congret8|\\nOffice of the\\nNO\\nRegister of Copyright!,\\n48562\\nCOPYRIGHT, 1899, BY W. WILFRED CAMPBELL\\nALL RIGHTS RESERVED\\nSECOND COPY,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "To the Right Honourable Sir Wilfrid Laurier, P. C,\\nG. C. M. G., by whose appreciation, sympathy, and\\nfriendship the author has been aided and encouraged,\\nthis volume is affectionately dedicated.\\nOttawa, August, 18pp.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nPAGE\\nBEYOND THE HILLS OF DREAM\\nI\\nMORNING\\n5\\nOUT OF POMPEII\\n6\\nMORNING ON THE SHORE\\n8\\nBEREAVEMENT OF THE FIELDS\\n9\\nA WOOD LYRIC\\n13\\nAN AUGUST REVERIE\\n*5\\nIN THE SPRING FIELDS\\n19\\nTHE DRYAD\\n20\\nPENIEL\\n23\\nAFTERGLOW\\n30\\nTHE TREE OF TRUTH\\n3i\\nGLORY OF THE DYING DAY\\n36\\nSEPTEMBER IN THE LAURENTIAN\\nHILLS\\n38\\nLAZARUS\\n39\\nTHE MOTHER\\n43\\nDUSK\\n48\\nTHE LAST PRAYER\\n49\\nPAN THE FALLEN\\n52\\nTHE VENGEANCE OF SAKI\\n55\\nLOVE\\n66\\nVICTORIA\\n67", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "VI\\nCONTENTS\\nENGLAND\\nSEBASTIAN CABOT\\nTHE WORLD-MOTHER\\nTHE LAZARUS OF EMPIRE\\nIN HOLYROOD\\nUNABSOLVED\\nHER LOOK\\nTHE WAYFARER\\nTO THE OTTAWA\\nDEPARTURE\\nPHAETHON\\nTHE HUMMING BEE\\nTHE CHILDREN OF THE FOAM\\nHOW ONE WINTER CAME\\n74\\n78\\n86\\n92\\n94\\n95\\n107\\n109\\n116\\n117\\n120\\n129\\n132\\n136", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "Beyond the Hills of Dream\\nOVER the mountains of sleep, my Love,\\nOver the hills of dream,\\nBeyond the walls of care and fate,\\nWhere the loves and memories teem;\\nWe come to a world of fancy free,\\nWhere hearts forget to weep\\nOver the mountains of dream, my Love,\\nOver the hills of sleep.\\nOver the hills of care, my Love,\\nOver the mountains of dread,\\nWe come to a valley glad and vast,\\nWhere we meet the long-lost dead\\nAnd there the gods in splendor dwell,\\nIn a land where all is fair,\\nOver the mountains of dread, my Love,\\nOver the hills of care.\\nOver the mountains of dream, my Love,\\nOver the hills of sleep\\nCould we but come to that heart s desire,\\nWhere the harvests of fancy reap,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "Beyond the Hills of Dream\\nThen we would know the old joys and hopes,\\nThe longings of youth s bright gleam,\\nOver the mountains of sleep, my Love,\\nOver the hills of dream.\\nYea, there the sweet old years have rest,\\nAnd there my heart would be,\\nAmid the glad ones loved of yore,\\nAt the sign of the Fancy Free\\nAnd there the old lips would repeat\\nEarth s memories o er and o er,\\nOver the mountains of might-have-been,\\nOver the hills of yore.\\nUnto that valley of dreams, my Love,\\nIf we could only go,\\nBeyond the mountains of heart s despair,\\nThe hills of winter and snow,\\nThen we would come to those happy isles,\\nThose shores of blossom and wing,\\nOver the mountains of waiting, my Love,\\nOver the hills of spring.\\nAnd there where the woods are scarlet and gold,\\nAnd the apples are red on the tree,\\nThe heart of Autumn is never old\\nIn that country where we would be.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "Beyond the Hills of Dream\\nAnd how would we come to that land, my Love\\nFollow the midnight stars,\\nThat swim and gleam in a milk-white stream,\\nOver the night s white bars.\\nOr follow the trail of the sunset red\\nThat beacons the dying deeps\\nOf day s wild borders down the edge\\nOf silence, where evening sleeps\\nOr take the road that the morning wakes,\\nWhen he whitens his first rosebeam,\\nOver the mountains of glory, my Love,\\nOver the hills of dream.\\nSometime, sometime, we will go, my Love,\\nWhen winter loosens to spring,\\nAnd all the spirits of Joy are ajog,\\nAfter the wild-bird s wing,\\nWhen winter and sorrow have opened their doors\\nTo set love s prisoners free,\\nOver the mountains of woe, my Love,\\nOver the hills of dree.\\nAnd when we reach there we will know\\nThe faces we knew of yore,\\nThe lips that kissed, the hands that clasped,\\nWhen memory loosens her store,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "Beyond the Hills of Dream\\nAnd we will drink to the long dead years,\\nIn that inn of the golden gleam,\\nOver the mountains of sleep, my Love,\\nOver the hills of dream.\\nAnd all the joys we missed, my Love,\\nAnd all the hopes we knew,\\nThe dreams of life we dreamed in vain,\\nWhen youth s red blossoms blew\\nAnd all the hearts that throbbed for us,\\nIn the past so sunny and fair,\\nWe will meet and greet in that golden land,\\nOver the hills of care.\\nOver the mountains of sleep, my Love,\\nOver the hills of dream,\\nBeyond the walls of care and fate,\\nWhere the loves and memories teem,\\nWe come to a land of fancy free,\\nWhere hearts forget to weep,\\nOver the mountains of dream, my Love,\\nOver the hills of sleep.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "Morning\\nWHEN I behold how out of ruined night\\nFilled with all weirds of haunted ancient-\\nness,\\nAnd dreams and phantasies of pale distress,\\nIs builded, beam by beam, the splendid light,\\nThe opalescent glory, gem bedight,\\nOf dew-emblazoned morning when I know\\nSuch wondrous hopes, such luminous beauties\\ngrow\\nFrom out earth s shades of sadness and affright\\nO, then, my heart, amid thy questioning fear,\\nDost thou not whisper He who buildeth thus\\nFrom wrecks of dark such wonders at his will,\\nCan re-create from out death s night for us\\nThe marvels of a morning gladder still\\nThan ever trembled into beauty here\\n5", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "Out of Pompeii\\nQHE lay, face downward, on her bended arm,\\nIn this her new, sweet dream of human bliss,\\nHer heart within her fearful, fluttering, warm,\\nHer lips yet pained with love s first timorous\\nkiss.\\nShe did not note the darkening afternoon,\\nShe did not mark the lowering of the sky\\nO er that great city. Earth had given its boon\\nUnto her lips, love touched her and passed by.\\nIn one dread moment all the sky grew dark,\\nThe hideous rain, the panic, the red rout,\\nWhere love lost love, and all the world might\\nmark\\nThe city overwhelmed, blotted out\\nWithout one cry, so quick oblivion came,\\nAnd life passed to the black where all forget\\nBut she we know not of her house or name\\nIn love s sweet musings doth lie dreaming yet.\\nThe dread hell passed, the ruined world grew still,\\nAnd the great city passed to nothingness\\n6", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "Out of Pompeii\\nThe ages went and mankind worked its will.\\nThen men stood still amid the centuries press,\\nAnd in the ash-hid ruins opened bare,\\nAs she lay down in her shamed loveliness,\\nSculptured and frozen, late they found her there,\\nImage of love mid all that hideousness.\\nHer head, face downward, on her bended arm,\\nHer single robe that showed her shapely form,\\nHer wondrous fate love keeps divinely warm\\nOver the centuries, past the slaying storm.\\nThe heart can read in writings time hath left,\\nThat linger still through death s oblivion\\nAnd in this waste of life and light bereft,\\nShe brings again a beauty that had gone.\\nAnd if there be a dav when all shall wake,\\nAs dreams the hoping, doubting human heart,\\nThe dim forgetfulness of death will break\\nFor her as one who sleeps with lips apart\\nAnd did God call her suddenly, I know\\nShe d wake as morning wakened by the thrush,\\nFeel that red kiss across the centuries glow,\\nAnd make all heaven rosier by her blush.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "Morning on the Shore\\nTHE lake is blue with morning and the sky\\nSweet, clear, and burnished as an orient\\npearl.\\nHigh in its vastness scream and skim and whirl\\nWhite gull-flocks where the gleaming beaches die\\nInto dim distance, where great marshes lie.\\nFar in ashore the woods are warm with dreams,\\nThe dew-wet road in ruddy sunlight gleams,\\nThe sweet, cool earth, the clear blue heaven on\\nhigh.\\nAcross the morn a carolling school-boy goes,\\nFilling the world with youth to heaven s stair\\nSome chattering squirrel answers from his tree\\nBut down beyond the headland, where ice-floes\\nAre great in winter, pleading in mute prayer,\\nA dead, drowned face stares up immutably.\\n8", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "Bereavement of the Fields\\nIN MEMORY OF ARCHIBALD LAMPMAN, WHO DIED\\nFEBRUARY 10, 1 899\\nSOFT fall the February snows, and soft\\nFalls on my heart the snow of wintry pain\\nFor never more, by wood or field or croft,\\nWill he we knew walk with his loved again\\nNo more, with eyes adream and soul aloft,\\nIn those high moods where love and beauty reign,\\nGreet his familiar fields, his skies without a stain.\\nSoft fall the February snows, and deep,\\nLike downy pinions from the moulting breast\\nOf all the mothering sky, round his hushed sleep,\\nFlutter a million loves upon his rest,\\nWhere once his well-loved flowers were fain to\\npeep,\\nWith adder-tongue and waxen petals prest,\\nIn young spring evenings reddening down the\\nwest.\\nSoft fall the February snows, and hushed\\nSeems life s loud action, all its strife removed,\\n9", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "10 Bereavement of the Fields\\nAfar., remote, where grief itself seems crushed.\\nAnd even hope and sorrow are reproved\\nFor he whose cheek erstwhile with hope was\\nflushed,\\nAnd by the gentle haunts of being moved,\\nHath gone the way of all he dreamed and loved.\\nSoft fall the February snows, and lost,\\nThis tender spirit gone with scarce a tear,\\nEre, loosened from the dungeons of the frost,\\nWakens with yearnings new the enfranchised year,\\nLate winter-wizened, gloomed, and tempest-tost\\nAnd Hesper s gentle, delicate veils appear,\\nWhen dream anew the days of hope and fear.\\nAnd Mother Nature, she whose heart is fain,\\nYea, she who grieves not, neither faints nor fails,\\nBuilding the seasons, she will bring again\\nMarch with rudening madness of wild gales,\\nApril and her wraiths of tender rain,\\nAnd all he loved, this soul whom memory veils,\\nBeyond the burden of our strife and pain.\\nNot his to wake the strident note of song,\\nNor pierce the deep recesses of the heart,\\nThose tragic wells, remote, of might and wrong\\nBut rather, with those gentler souls apart,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "Bereavement of the Fields 1 1\\nHe dreamed like his own summer days along,\\nFilled with the beauty born of his own heart,\\nSufficient in the sweetness of his song.\\nOutside this prison-house of all our tears,\\nEnfranchised from our sorrow and our wrong,\\nBeyond the failure of our days and years,\\nBeyond the burden of our saddest song,\\nHe moves with those whose music filled his\\nears,\\nAnd claimed his gentle spirit from the throng,\\nWordsworth, Arnold, Keats, high masters of his\\nsong.\\nLike some rare Pan of those old Grecian days,\\nHere in our hours of deeper stress reborn,\\nUnfortunate thrown upon life s evil ways,\\nHis inward ear heard ever that satyr horn\\nFrom Nature s lips reverberate night and morn,\\nAnd fled from men and all their troubled maze,\\nStanding apart, with sad, incurious gaze.\\nAnd now, untimely cut, like some sweet flower\\nPlucked in the early summer of its prime,\\nBefore it reached the fulness of its dower,\\nHe withers in the morning of our time\\nLeaving behind him, like a summer shower,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "1 2 Bereavement of the Fields\\nA fragrance of earth s beauty, and the chime\\nOf gentle and imperishable rhyme.\\nSongs in our ears of winds and flowers and buds\\nAnd gentle loves and tender memories\\nOf Nature s sweetest aspects, her pure moods,\\nWrought from the inward truth of intimate eyes\\nAnd delicate ears of him who harks and broods,\\nAnd, nightly pondering, daily grows more wise,\\nAnd dreams and sees in mighty solitudes.\\nSoft fall the February snows, and soft\\nHe sleeps in peace upon the breast of her\\nHe loved the truest where, by wood and croft,\\nThe wintry silence folds in fleecy blur\\nAbout his silence, while in glooms aloft\\nThe mighty forest fathers, without stir,\\nGuard well the rest of him, their rare sweet wor-\\nshipper.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "A Wood Lyric\\nINTO the stilly woods I go,\\nWhere the shades are deep and the wind-flow-\\ners blow,\\nAnd the hours are dreamy and lone and long,\\nAnd the power of silence is greater than song.\\nInto the stilly woods I go,\\nWhere the leaves are cool and the wind-flowers\\nblow.\\nWhen I go into the stilly woods,\\nAnd know all the flowers in their sweet, shy hoods,\\nThe tender leaves in their shimmer and sheen\\nOf darkling shadow, diaphanous green,\\nIn those haunted halls where my footstep falls,\\nLike one who enters cathedral walls,\\nA spirit of beauty floods over me,\\nAs over a swimmer the waves of the sea,\\nThat strengthens and glories, refreshens and fills,\\nTill all mine inner heart wakens and thrills\\nWith a new and a glad and a sweet delight,\\nAnd a sense of the infinite out of sight,\\nOf the great unknown that we may not know,\\n13", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "14 A Wood Lyric\\nBut only feel with an inward glow\\nWhen into the great, glad woods we go.\\nO life-worn brothers, come with me\\nInto the wood s hushed sanctity,\\nWhere the great, cool branches are heavy with\\nJune,\\nAnd the voices of summer are strung in tune\\nCome with me, O heart outworn,\\nOr spirit whom life s brute-struggles have torn,\\nCome, tired and broken and wounded feet,\\nWhere the walls are greening, the floors are sweet,\\nThe roofs are breathing and heaven s airs meet.\\nCome, wash earth s grievings from out of the face,\\nThe tear and the sneer and the warfare s trace,\\nCome where the bells of the forest are ringing,\\nCome where the oriole s nest is swinging,\\nWhere the brooks are foaming in amber pools,\\nThe mornings are still and the noonday cools.\\nCast off earth s sorrows and know what I know,\\nWhen into the glad, deep woods I go.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "An August Reverie\\nA ^HERE is an autumn sense subdues the air,\\nThough it is August and the season still\\nA part of summer, and the woodlands fair.\\nI hear it in the humming of the mill,\\nI feel it in the rustling of the trees,\\nThat scarcely shiver in the passing breeze.\\nT is but a touch of Winter ere his time,\\nA presaging of sleep and icy death,\\nWhen skies are rich and fields are in their prime,\\nAnd heaven and earth commingle in a breath:\\nWhen hazy airs are stirred with gossamer wings,\\nAnd in shorn fields the shrill cicada sings.\\nSo comes the slow revolving of the year,\\nThe glory of nature ripening to decay,\\nWhen in those paths, by which, through loves aus-\\ntere,\\nAll men and beasts and blossoms find their\\nway,\\nBy steady easings of the spirit s dream,\\nFrom sunlight past the pallid starlight s beam.\\nis", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "1 6 An August Reverie\\nNor should the spirit sorrow as it passes,\\nDeclining slowly by the heights it came;\\nWe are but brothers to the birds and grasses,\\nIn our brief coming and our end the same\\nAnd though we glory, god-like in our day,\\nPerchance some kindred law their lives obey.\\nThere are a thousand beauties gathered round,\\nThe sounds of waters falling over-night,\\nThe morning scents that steamed from the fresh\\nground,\\nThe hair-like streaming of the morning light\\nThrough early mists and dim, wet woods where\\nbrooks\\nChatter, half-seen, down under mossy nooks.\\nThe ragged daisy starring all the fields,\\nThe buttercup abrim with pallid gold,\\nThe thistle and burr-flowers hedged with prickly\\nshields,\\nAll common weeds the draggled pastures hold,\\nWith shrivelled pods and leaves, are kin to me,\\nLike-heirs of earth and her maturity.\\nThey speak a silent speech that is their own,\\nThese wise and gentle teachers of the grass\\nAnd when their brief and common days are flown,\\nA certain beauty from the year doth pass", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "An August Reverie lj\\nA beauty of whose light no eye can tell,\\nSave that it went and my heart knew it well.\\nI may not know each plant as some men know\\nthem,\\nAs children gather beasts and birds to tame\\nBut I went mid them as the winds that blow\\nthem,\\nFrom childhood s hour, and loved without a\\nname.\\nThere is more of beauty in a field of weeds\\nThan in all blooms the hothouse garden breeds.\\nFor they are nature s children in their faces\\nI see that sweet obedience to the sky\\nThat marks these dwellers of the wilding places,\\nWho with the season s being live and die\\nKnowing no love but of the wind and sun,\\nWho still are nature s when their life is done.\\nThey are a part of all the haze-filled hours,\\nThe happy, happy world all drenched with light,\\nThe far-off, chiming click-clack of the mowers,\\nAnd yon blue hills whose mists elude my sight\\nAnd they to me will ever bring in dreams\\nFar mist-clad heights and brimming rain-fed\\nstreams.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "1 8 An August Reverie\\nIn this dream August air, whose ripened leaf,\\nPausing before it puts death s glories on,\\nDeepens its green, and the half-garnered sheaf\\nGladdens the haze-filled sunlight, love hath\\ngone\\nBeyond the material, trembling like a star,\\nTo those sure heights where all thought s glories\\nare.\\nAnd Thought, that is the greatness of this earth,\\nAnd man s most inmost being, soars and soars,\\nBeyond the eye s horizon s outmost girth,\\nGarners all beauty, on all mystery pores\\nLike some ethereal fountain in its flow,\\nFinds heavens where the senses may not go.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "In the Spring Fields\\nTHERE dwells a spirit in the budding year\\nAs motherhood doth beautify the face\\nThat even lends these barren glebes a grace,\\nAnd fills gray hours with beauty that were drear\\nAnd bleak when the loud, storming March was\\nhere\\nA glamour that the thrilled heart dimly traces\\nIn swelling boughs and soft, wet, windy spaces,\\nAnd sunlands where the chattering birds make\\ncheer.\\nI thread the uplands where the wind s footfalls\\nStir leaves in gusty hollows, autumn s urns.\\nSeaward the river s shining breast expands,\\nHigh in the windy pines a lone crow calls,\\nAnd far below some patient ploughman turns\\nHis great black furrow over steaming lands.\\n9", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "The Dryad\\nHER soul was sown with the seed of the\\ntree\\nOf old when the earth was young,\\nAnd glad with the light of its majesty\\nThe light of her beautiful being upgrew.\\nAnd the winds that swept over land and sea,\\nAnd like a harper the great boughs strung,\\nWhispered her all things new.\\nThe tree reached forth to the sun and the wind\\nAnd towered to heaven above.\\nBut she was the soul that under its rind\\nWhispered its joy through the whole wood s\\nspan,\\nSweet and glad and tender and kind\\nFor her love for the tree was a holier love\\nThan the love of woman for man.\\nThe seasons came and the seasons went\\nAnd the woodland music rang\\nAnd under her wide umbrageous tent,\\nHidden forever from mortal eye,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "The Dryad 21\\nShe sang earth s beauty and wonderment.\\nBut men never knew the spirit that sang\\nThis music too wondrous to die.\\nOnly nature, forever young,\\nAnd her children, forever true,\\nKnew the beauty of her who sung\\nAnd her tender, glad love for the tree;\\nTill on her music the wild hawk hung\\nFrom his eyrie high in the blue\\nTo drink her melody free.\\nAnd the creatures of earth would creep from their\\nhaunts\\nTo stare with their wilding eyes,\\nTo hearken those rhythms of earth s romance,\\nThat never the ear of mortal hath heard\\nTill the elfin squirrels would caper and dance,\\nAnd the hedgehog s sleepy and shy surprise\\nWould grow to the thought of a bird.\\nAnd the pale wood-flowers from their cradles of\\ndew\\nWhere they rocked them the whole night long,\\nWhile the dark wheeled round and the stars looked\\nthrough\\nInto the great wood s slumbrous breast,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "22 The Dryad\\nTill the gray of the night like a mist outblew\\nHearkened the piercing joy of her song\\nThat sank like a star in their rest.\\nBut all things come to an end at last\\nWhen the wings of being are furled.\\nAnd there blew one night a maddening blast\\nFrom those wastes where ships dismantle and\\ndrown,\\nThat ravaged the forest and thundered past\\nAnd in the wreck of that ruined world\\nThe dryad s tree went down.\\nWhen the pale stars dimmed their tapers of gold,\\nAnd over the night s round rim\\nThe day rose sullen and ragged and cold,\\nOver that wind-swept, desolate wild,\\nWhere the huge trunks lay like giants of old,\\nProne, slain on some battlefield, silent and grim;\\nThe wood-creatures, curious, mild,\\nSearching their solitudes, found her there\\nLike a snowdrift out in the morn\\nOne lily arm round the beech-trunk bare,\\nOne curved, cold, under her elfin head,\\nWith the beechen shine in her nut-brown hair,\\nAnd the pallor of dawn on her face, love-lorn,\\nBeautiful, passionless, dead.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "I\\nPeniel\\nN a place of the mountains of Edom,\\nAnd a waste of the midnight shore,\\nWhen the evil winds of the desolate hills\\nBeat with an iron roar,\\nWith the pitiless black of the desert behind,\\nAnd the wrath of a brother before\\nIn a place of the ancient mountains,\\nAnd the time of the midnight dead,\\nWhere the great wide skies of his father s land\\nLoomed vastly overhead,\\nJacob, the son of the ancient of days,\\nStood out alone with his dread\\nAnd there in that place of darkness,\\nWhen the murk of the night grew dim,\\nUnder the wide roof-tree of the world\\nAn unknown stood with him,\\nWhether a devil or angel of God,\\nWith presence hidden and grim,\\nAnd spake Thou Son of Isaac,\\nOn mountain and stream and tree,\\n23", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "24 Peniel\\nAnd this wide ruined world of night,\\nTake thy last look with me\\nFor out of the darkness have I come,\\nTo die, or conquer thee.\\nThen Jacob made stern answer,\\nUntil thy face I see,\\nThough I strive with life or wrestle with death,\\nYet will I strive with thee\\nFor better it were to die this hour\\nThan from my fate to flee.\\nYea, speak thy name or show thy face,\\nElse shall I conquer thy will.\\nBut the other closed with an iron shock,\\nTill it seemed the stars so still,\\nWith the lonely night, in a wheeling mist,\\nWent round by river and hill.\\nAnd Jacob strove as the dying strive,\\nIn the woe of that awful place.\\nYea, he fought with the desperate soul of one\\nWho fights in evil case:\\nAnd he called aloud in the pauses dread,\\nO give me sight of thy face.\\nYea, speak thy name, what art thou, spirit,\\nOr man, or devil, or God", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "Peniel 25\\nYea, speak thy name But no voice came,\\nFrom heaven or deep or sod\\nAnd the spirit of Jacob clave to his flesh\\nAs the dews in a dried-up clod.\\nThen they rocked and swayed as Autumn storms\\nDo rock the centuried trees\\nYea, swayed and rocked that other strove,\\nAnd drave him to his knees,\\nAnd Jacob felt the wide world s gleam\\nAnd the roar of unknown seas.\\nLike to a mighty storm it seemed,\\nThere thundered in his ears\\nThen a mighty rushing water teemed\\nLike brooks of human tears,\\nAnd opened the channels of his spent heart,\\nAnd washed away his fears.\\nAnd he rose with the last despairing strength\\nOf life s tenacity,\\nAnd he swore by the blood of man in him,\\nAnd God s eternity,\\nT is my life, my very soul he wants\\nThat he shall not have of me.\\nThen his heart grew strong and he felt the earth\\nGrow iron beneath his feet,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "26 Peniel\\nAnd he drank the balmy airs of night\\nLike rose-blooms rare and sweet\\nAnd his soul rose up as a welling brook,\\nHis life or death to meet.\\nAnd he spake to that unknown enemy there,\\nBy yon white stars I vow,\\nThat be thou devil or angel or man,\\nThou canst not conquer me now;\\nFor I feel new lease of life and strength\\nIn this sweat that beads my brow.\\nThey locked once more the stars, it seemed\\nWent round in dances dim,\\nWhere the great white watchers over each hill,\\nWith the black night, seemed to swim\\nBut Jacob knew his enemy now,\\nCould nevermore conquer him.\\nYea, still with grip of death they strove,\\nIn iron might, until,\\nPlanet by planet, the great stars dropped\\nDown over the westward hill\\nAnd Jacob stood like one who stands\\nIn the strength of a mighty will.\\nThen at that late, last midnight hour,\\nWhen the little birds rejoice,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "Peniel\\nAnd out of the lands of sleep life looms\\nWith the rustle of day s annoys,\\nThat other spake as one who speaks\\nWith a sad despairing voice,\\nAnd cried aloud, I have met my fate,\\nLoosen, and let me go\\nFor I have striven with thee in vain,\\nTill my heart is water and woe.\\nNay, nay, cried Jacob, we strive, we twain,\\nTill the mists of dawning blow.\\nThen spake that other, I hate thee not,\\nMy spirit is spent, alas,\\nThou art a very lion of men\\nRelease, and let me pass\\nFor thou hast my heart and sinews ground\\nAs ocean grinds his grass.\\nThen answered Jacob, Nay, nay, thou liar,\\nThis is the lock of death\\nFor thee or me it must be thus,\\nThe will of my being saith\\nThou man or devil, I hold thee here\\nUnto thy latest breath\\nFor I do feel in thee I hold\\nMy life s supremest hour\\n27", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "28 Ptniel\\nI would as lief let all life slip\\nAs thee from out my power,\\nUntil I gaze on thy hid face,\\nAnd read my spirit s dower.\\nYea, show thy face or who thou art,\\nOr, man or angel or fiend,\\nI rend thy being fold from fold,\\nAnd scatter thee to the wind.\\nThen they twain rocked as passions rock,\\nWhen madness wrecks the mind.\\nFor each now knew this was the end,\\nAnd one of them must die,\\nThen Jacob heaved a mighty breath,\\nWith a last great sobbing cry,\\nAnd gripped that other in a grip\\nLike the grip of those who die.\\nFor he felt once more his spirit faint,\\nAnd his strong knees quake beneath,\\nAnd it seemed the mountains flamed all red\\nAt the coming of his breath\\nAnd he prayed if he were conquered now\\nThat this might be his death.\\nThe tight grip eased, the huge form slipped\\nBack earthward with a moan,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "Peniel 29\\nAnd Jacob stood there neath the dawn,\\nLike one new-changed to stone;\\nFor in the face of the prone man there\\nHe read his very own.\\nNot as man sees who reads his fellows\\nIn the dim crowds that pass\\nNor as a soul may know himself,\\nWho looks within a glass\\nBut as God sees, who kneads the clay,\\nAnd parts it from the mass.\\nAnd over his head the great day rose\\nAnd gloried leaf and wing,\\nAnd the little boughs began to tremble,\\nAnd the little birds to sing\\nBut on his face there shone a strength\\nLike the power of a new-crowned king.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "Afterglow\\nA FTER the clangor of battle,\\nThere comes a moment of rest,\\nAnd the simple hopes and the simple joys\\nAnd the simple thoughts are best.\\nAfter the victor s paean,\\nAfter the thunder of gun,\\nThere comes a lull that must come to all\\nBefore the set of the sun.\\nThen what is the happiest memory\\nIs it the foe s defeat\\nIs it the splendid praise of a world\\nThat thunders by at your feet\\nNay, nay, to the life-worn spirit\\nThe happiest thoughts are those\\nThat carry us back to the simple joys\\nAnd the sweetness of life s repose.\\nA simple love and a simple trust\\nAnd a simple duty done\\nAre truer torches to light to death\\nThan a whole world s victories won.\\n30", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "The Tree of Truth\\nTHERE grows a mighty centuried tree,\\nIts roots athwart the world,\\nIts branches wide as earth s wide girth\\nBy thousand dews impearled.\\nIts top is hoary, its wide boughs\\nReach out to heaven above,\\nIts roots are knowledge, and its sap\\nThe yearning heart of love.\\nMen hack its branches, curb its roots,\\nTo trim it to their ken,\\nOr hide its green in poisonous vines\\nFrom evil s grimmest fen.\\nBut evermore while ages wane,\\nAnd centuries rise and die,\\nThrough dark, through light, through good and ill,\\nIts saps the years defy.\\nFor deeper in the heart of things,\\nAnd older far than time,\\nIts roots are fixed in those sure deeps\\nFrom which the centuries climb.\\n31", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "32 The Tree of Truth\\nAges ago its girth was great\\nIts boughs o er earth s wide lands\\nAll peoples gathered neath its glades\\nWhere now old ruin stands.\\nBut form and custom staled its green\\nAnd curbed it into bounds\\nOf pruning hooks and greedy walls\\nThat hemmed its sacred rounds.\\nAnd vast and wide where once to all\\nIts radiant leaves were free,\\nFar peoples paid, with earth s red gold,\\nIts sacred home to see.\\nAnd summer by summer, yea, year by year,\\nStill lower shrank its head,\\nTill shallow deceit and life s despair\\nDeclared its heart was dead.\\nThen men cried, We will hew it down,\\nAnd build from out its wood\\nA temple rare wherein to teach\\nUs memory of its good.\\nAnd neath its shelter we will keep,\\nTo hold the ages youth,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "The Tree of Truth 33\\nu Those holy dreams our fathers drew\\nFrom out the tree of truth.\\nThey hacked and hewed, they sawed and planed,\\nThey lopped its branches wide,\\nTill shorn and bare the old tree stood\\nTo every wind and tide.\\nAnd round its scathed and ruined trunk,\\nWhence life had fled aloof,\\nThey built a temple carved and arched\\nFrom floor to groined roof.\\nAnd reared a shrine where art was all\\nThe end of human pain,\\nTill a sprout shot forth from the old tree s trunk\\nAnd burst its walls amain\\nA sturdy, wayward, wilding growth,\\nThat mocked their maimed dream\\nOf life and truth in legend carved\\nOn groined arch and beam.\\nMen stood amazed. The teachers cried,\\nBehold the curse of earth\\nIts life must die or all our words\\nAre but as nothing worth.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "34 The Tree of Truth\\nNay, nay, cried others, but let it stand,\\nPerchance a miracle.\\nThen straight about its burgeoning boughs\\nOld bloody battles fell.\\nWild clamor and clash of fiery arms,\\nThe old against the new.\\nMad hosts arrayed with banner and blade,\\nWhere war s wild trumpets blew.\\nBut as they strove by gates of blood,\\nWith glad unconscious youth,\\nHigher and wider skyward climbed\\nThe newer tree of truth.\\nAnd blithe within its boughs their nests\\nThe birds of heaven made,\\nWhile at its foot mid earth s old ruins,\\nThe happy children played.\\nAnd form and cant were swept away,\\nWhile under its dream sublime,\\nMen drank anew neath heaven s arch\\nFrom nature for a time.\\nYea, still it spreads its antres vast,\\nThrough peace and clash of arms,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "The Tree of Truth 35\\nAnd blossoms brave and blithe and free,\\nO er all earth s shrunk alarms.\\nAnd still men battle to destroy\\nThe living for the dead\\nOld ruined trunk of that which towers\\nIts glories overhead\\nAnd strive for art s distorted ways,\\nWhile from earth s heart of youth,\\nHigher and wider heavenward spreads\\nThe ancient tree of truth.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "Glory of the Dying Day\\nO GLORY of the dying day\\nThat into darkness fades away\\nO violet splendor melting down\\nBy river bend o er tower and town\\nO glory of the dying day\\nThat into darkness fades away\\nO splendor of the gates of night\\nO majesty of dying light\\nThat all a molten glory glows,\\nTill purple-crimson fades to rose\\nAnd dying, melting, outward goes\\nIn ashes on the even s rim,\\nWhen all the world grows faint and dim\\nO silvern sound of far-off bells\\nRinging, ringing miles away\\nOver river, fields, and fells,\\nRound the crimson and the gray j\\nPealing softly evening out\\nAs the dewy dusk comes down,\\nAnd the great night folds about\\nRiver, woodlands, hills, and town\\n36", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "Glory of the Dying Day 37\\nO glory of the fading hills\\nSplendor of the river s breast\\nO silence that the whole world fills\\nSanctity of peaceful rest\\nAlien from the care of day,\\nNow a petalled star peeps in:\\nNow night s choruses begin,\\nMusical and far away.\\nO glory of the dying day,\\nWhen my life s evening fades away,\\nMay it in splendid peace go down\\nLike yours o er river-bend and town\\nNot into silence blind and stark,\\nNot into wintry muffled dark\\nBut, heralded by stars divine,\\nMay my life s latest evening ray\\nMelt into such a night as thine.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "September in the Laurentian\\nHills\\nALREADY Winter in his sombre round,\\nBefore his time hath touched these hills\\naustere\\nWith lonely flame. Last night, without a sound,\\nThe ghostly frost walked out by wood and mere.\\nAnd now the sumach curls his frond of fire,\\nThe aspen-tree reluctant drops his gold,\\nAnd down the gullies the North s wild vibrant lyre\\nRouses the bitter armies of the cold.\\nO er this short afternoon the night draws down,\\nWith ominous chill, across these regions bleak\\nWind-beaten gold, the sunset fades around\\nThe purple loneliness of crag and peak,\\nLeaving the world an iron house wherein\\nNor love nor life nor hope hath ever been.\\n38", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "Lazarus\\nO FATHER ABRAM, I can never rest,\\nHere in thy bosom in the whitest heaven,\\nWhere love blooms on through days without an\\neven\\nFor up through all the paradises seven,\\nThere comes a cry from some fierce, anguished\\nbreast,\\nA cry that comes from out of hell s dark night,\\nA piercing cry of one in agony,\\nThat reaches me here in heaven white and high\\nA call of anguish that doth never die;\\nLike dream-waked infant wailing for the light.\\nO Father Abram, heaven is love and peace,\\nAnd God is good eternity is rest.\\nSweet would it be to lie upon thy breast\\nAnd know no thought but loving to be blest\\nSave for that cry that nevermore will cease.\\nIt comes to me above the angel-lyres,\\nThe chanting praises of the cherubim\\nIt comes between my upward gaze and Him,\\n39", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "40 Lazarus\\nAll-blessed Christ; a voice from the vague\\ndim\\nO Lazarus, come and ease me of these fires.\\nO Lazarus, I have called thee all these years,\\nIt is so long for me to reach to thee,\\nAcross the ages of this mighty sea,\\nThat loometh dark, dense, like eternity\\nWhich I have bridged by anguished prayers and tears\\nWhich I have bridged by knowledge of God s love,\\nThat even penetrates this anguished glare\\nA gleaming ray, a tremulous star-built stair,\\nA road by which love-hungered souls may fare\\nPast hate and doubt, to heaven and God above.\\nSo calleth it ever upward unto me\\nIt creepeth in through heaven s golden doors\\nIt echoes all along the sapphire floors\\nLike smoke of sacrifice, it soars and soars,\\nIt fills the vastness of eternity\\nUntil my sense of love is waned and dimmed\\nThe music-rounded spheres do clash and jar,\\nNo more those spirit-calls from star to star,\\nThose harmonies that float and melt afar,\\nThose belts of light by which all heaven is rimmed.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "Lazarus 4 1\\nNo more I hear the beat of heavenly wings,\\nThe seraph chanting in my rest-tuned ear:\\nI only know a cry, a prayer, a tear,\\nThat rises from the depths up to me here\\nA soul that to me suppliant leans and clings.\\nFather Abram, thou must bid me go\\nInto the spaces of the deep abyss\\nWhere far from us and our God-given bliss,\\nDo dwell those souls that have done Christ\\namiss\\nFor through my rest I hear that upward woe.\\n1 hear it crying through the heavenly night,\\nWhen curved, hung in space, the million moons\\nLean planet-ward, and infinite space attunes\\nItself to silence. As from drear gray dunes\\nA cry is heard along the shuddering light,\\nOf wild dusk-bird, a sad, heart-curdling cry,\\nSo comes to me that call from out hell s coasts\\nI see an infinite shore with gaping ghosts\\nThis is no heaven, with all its shining hosts\\nThis is no heaven, until that hell doth die\\nSo spake the soul of Lazarus, and from thence,\\nLike new-fledged bird from its sun-jewelled nest,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "42 Lazarus\\nDrunk with the music of the young year s quest,\\nHe sank out into heaven s gloried breast,\\nSpaceward turned, toward darkness dim, immense.\\nHellward he moved like a radiant star shot out\\nFrom heaven s blue with rain of gold at even,\\nWhen Orion s train and that mysterious seven\\nMove on in mystic range from heaven to\\nheaven\\nHellward he sank, followed by radiant rout.\\nThe liquid floor of heaven bore him up\\nWith unseen arms, as in his feathery flight\\nHe floated down toward the infinite night\\nAnd each way downward, on the left and right,\\nHe saw each moon of heaven like a cup\\nOf liquid, misty fire that shone afar\\nFrom sentinel towers of heaven s battlements\\nBut onward, winged by love s desire intense,\\nAnd sank, space-swallowed, into the immense,\\nWhile with him ever widened heaven s bar.\\nT is ages now long-gone since he went out,\\nChrist-urged, love-driven, across the jasper walls\\nBut hellward still he ever floats and falls,\\nAnd ever nearer come those anguished calls\\nAnd far behind he hears a glorious shout.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "I\\nThe Mother\\nT was April, blossoming spring,\\nThey buried me, when the birds did sing\\nEarth, in clammy wedging earth,\\nThey banked my bed with a black, damp girth.\\nUnder the damp and under the mould,\\nI kenned my breasts were clammy and cold.\\nOut from the red beams, slanting and bright,\\nI kenned my cheeks were sunken and white.\\nI was a dream, and the world was a dream,\\nAnd yet I kenned all things that seem.\\nI was a dream, and the world was a dream,\\nBut you cannot bury a red sunbeam.\\n1 This poem was suggested by the following passage in Tyler s\\nAnimism: The pathetic German superstition that the dead mother s\\ncoming back in the night to suckle the baby she had left on earth\\nmay be known by the hollow pressed down in the bed where she lay.\\n43", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "44 The Mother\\nFor though in the under-grave s doom-night\\nI lay all silent and stark and white,\\nYet over my head I seemed to know\\nThe murmurous moods of wind and snow,\\nThe snows that wasted, the winds that blew,\\nThe rays that slanted, the clouds that drew\\nThe water-ghosts up from lakes below,\\nAnd the little flower-souls in earth that grow.\\nUnder earth, in the grave s stark night,\\nI felt the stars and the moon s pale light.\\nI felt the winds of ocean and land\\nThat whispered the blossoms soft and bland.\\nThough they had buried me dark and low,\\nMy soul with the season s seemed to grow.\\nii\\nFrom throes of pain they buried me low,\\nFor death had finished a mother s woe.\\nBut under the sod, in the grave s dread doom,\\nI dreamed of my baby in glimmer and gloom.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "The Mother 45\\nI dreamed of my babe, and I kenned that his rest\\nWas broken in wailings on my dead breast.\\nI dreamed that a rose-leaf hand did cling\\nOh, you cannot bury a mother in spring\\nWhen the winds are soft and the blossoms are red\\nShe could not sleep in her cold earth-bed.\\nI dreamed of my babe for a day and a night,\\nAnd then I rose in my graveclothes white.\\nI rose like a flower from my damp earth-bed\\nTo the world of sorrowing overhead.\\nMen would have called me a thing of harm,\\nBut dreams of my babe made me rosy and warm.\\nI felt my breasts swell under my shroud\\nNo star shone white, no winds were loud\\nBut I stole me past the graveyard wall,\\nFor the voice of my baby seemed to call\\nAnd I kenned me a voice, though my lips were\\ndumb\\nHush, baby, hush for mother is come.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "46 The Mother\\nI passed the streets to my husband s home;\\nThe chamber stairs in a dream I clomb.\\nI heard the sound of each sleeper s breath,\\nLight waves that break on the shores of death.\\nI listened a space at my chamber door,\\nThen stole like a moon-ray over its floor.\\nMy babe was asleep on a stranger arm.\\nO baby, my baby, the grave is so warm,\\nThough dark and so deep, for mother is there\\nO come with me from the pain and care\\nO come with me from the anguish of earth,\\nWhere the bed is banked with a blossoming girth,\\nWhere the pillow is soft and the rest is long,\\nAnd mother will croon you a slumber-song,\\nA slumber-song that will charm your eyes\\nTo a sleep that never in earth-song lies\\nThe loves of earth your being can spare,\\nBut never the grave, for mother is there.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "The Mother 47\\nI nestled him soft to my throbbing breast,\\nAnd stole me back to my long, long rest.\\nAnd here I lie with him under the stars,\\nDead to earth, its peace and its wars\\nDead to its hates, its hopes, and its harms,\\nSo long as he cradles up soft in my arms.\\nAnd heaven may open its shimmering doors,\\nAnd saints make music on pearly floors,\\nAnd hell may yawn to its infinite sea,\\nBut they never can take my baby from me.\\nFor so much a part of my soul he hath grown\\nThat God doth know of it high on his throne.\\nAnd here I lie with him under the flowers\\nThat sun-winds rock through the billowy hours,\\nWith the night-airs that steal from the murmuring\\nsea,\\nBringing sweet peace to my baby and me.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "Dusk\\nDOWN by the shore at even, when the waves\\nLap lightly on the reedy rims, and soft,\\nOne trembling star, a blossom, flames aloft,\\nWhere the sunk sun the western heaven laves\\nWith lowest tides of day the tired world craves\\nFor the great night that cometh brooding in,\\nWith draught of healing over earth s far din,\\nAnd blessed rest that recreates and saves.\\nFar in the breathing woods the whip-poor-will\\nReiterates his plaintive note and hark\\nA dusky night-hawk whirrs athwart the dark,\\nHaunting the shadows, till in silvern swoon,\\nHunted by her own spirit, strange and still,\\nOver the waters comes the wan, white moon.\\n4 8", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "The Last Prayer\\nMASTER of life, the day is done\\nMy sun of life is sinking low\\nI watch the hours slip one by one\\nAnd hark the night-wind and the snow.\\nAnd must thou shut the morning out,\\nAnd dim the eye that loved to see\\nSilence the melody and rout,\\nAnd seal the joys of earth for me\\nAnd must thou banish all the hope\\nThe large horizon s eagle-swim,\\nThe splendor of the far-off slope\\nThat ran about the world s great rim,\\nThat rose with morning s crimson rays\\nAnd grew to noonday s gloried dome,\\nMelting to even s purple haze\\nWhen all the hopes of earth went home\\nYea, Master of this ruined house,\\nThe mortgage closed, outruns the lease;\\n49", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "50 The Last Prayer\\nLong since is hushed the gay carouse\\nAnd now the windowed lights must cease.\\nThe doors all barred, the shutters up,\\nDismantled, empty, wall and floor,\\nAnd now for one grim eve to sup\\nWith death the bailiff at the door.\\nYea, I will take the gloomward road\\nWhere fast the Arctic nights set in,\\nTo reach the bourne of that abode\\nWhich thou hast kept for all my kin.\\nAnd all life s splendid joys forego,\\nWalled in with night and senseless stone,\\nIf at the last my heart might know\\nThrough all the dark one joy alone.\\nYea, thou mayst quench the latest spark\\nOf life s weird day s expectancy,\\nRoll down the thunders of the dark\\nAnd close the light of life for me.\\nMelt all the splendid blue above\\nAnd let these magic wonders die,\\nIf thou wilt only leave me Love\\nAnd Love s heart-brother Memory.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "The Last Prayer 51\\nThough all the hopes of every race\\nCrumbled in one red crucible,\\nAnd melted mingled into space,\\nYet, Master, thou wert merciful.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "Pan the Fallen\\nHE wandered into the market\\nWith pipes and goatish hoof;\\nHe wandered in a grotesque shape,\\nAnd no one stood aloof.\\nFor the children crowded round him,\\nThe wives and graybeards, too,\\nTo crack their jokes and have their mirth,\\nAnd see what Pan would do.\\nThe Pan he was they knew him,\\nPart man, but mostly beast,\\nWho drank, and lied, and snatched what bones\\nMen threw him from their feast j\\nWho seemed in sin so merry,\\nSo careless in his woe,\\nThat men despised, scarce pitied him,\\nAnd still would have it so.\\nHe swelled his pipes and thrilled them,\\nAnd drew the silent tear\\nHe made the gravest clack with mirth\\nBy his sardonic leer.\\n5*", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "Pan the Fallen 53\\nHe blew his pipes full sweetly\\nAt their amused demands,\\nAnd caught the scornful earth-flung pence\\nThat fell from careless hands.\\nHe saw the mob s derision,\\nAnd took it kindly, too,\\nAnd when an epithet was flung,\\nA coarser back he threw\\nBut under all the masking\\nOf a brute, unseemly part,\\nI looked, and saw a wounded soul,\\nAnd a god-like, breaking heart.\\nAnd back of the elfin music,\\nThe burlesque, clownish play,\\nI knew a wail that the weird pipes made,\\nA look that was far away,\\nA gaze into some far heaven\\nWhence a soul had fallen down\\nBut the mob only saw the grotesque beast\\nAnd the antics of the clown.\\nFor scant-flung pence he paid them\\nWith mirth and elfin play,\\nTill, tired for a time of his antics queer,\\nThey passed and went their way", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "54 Pan the Fallen\\nThen there in the empty market\\nHe ate his scanty crust,\\nAnd, tired face turned to heaven, down\\nHe laid him in the dust.\\nAnd over his wild, strange features\\nA softer light there fell,\\nAnd on his worn, earth-driven heart\\nA peace ineffable.\\nAnd the moon rose over the market,\\nBut Pan the beast was dead\\nWhile Pan the god lay silent there,\\nWith his strange, distorted head.\\nAnd the people, when they found him,\\nStood still with awesome fear.\\nNo more they saw the beast s rude hoof,\\nThe furtive, clownish leer;\\nBut the lightest spirit in that throng\\nWent silent from the place,\\nFor they knew the look of a god released\\nThat shone from his dead face.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "The Vengeance of Saki\\nWHEN the moon is red in the heaven, and\\nunder the night\\nIs heard on the winds the thunder of shadowy\\nhorses,\\nThen out of the night I arise, and again am a\\nwoman\\nAnd leap to the back of an ebon steed that knows\\nme,\\nAnd hound him on in the wake of hoofs that\\nthunder,\\nOf smoking nostrils, and gleaming eyes, and\\nfoam-flecked\\nFlanks that glow and flash in the flow of the moon-\\nlight;\\nWhile under the mirk and the moon, out into the\\nblackness,\\nRound the world s edge with an eerie, mad, echo-\\ning laughter,\\nLeaps the long cry of the hate of the wild snake-\\nwoman.\\n55", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "56 The Vengeance of Saki\\nHa Ha it is joy for the hearts that we crush as\\nwe thunder\\nHo Ho for the hate of the winds that laugh to\\nmy laughter!\\nHa Ha it is well for the shriekings that pass\\ninto silence,\\nAs under the night, out into the blackness forever,\\nRides the wild hate of Saki, the mad snake-woman\\nI was a girl of the South, with eyes as tender\\nAnd dreamy and soft and true as the skies of my\\npeople\\nBut I was a slave and an alien captured in battle,\\nAnd brought to the North by a people ruder and\\nstronger,\\nWho held me as naught but a toy, to be played\\nwith and broken,\\nThen thrown aside like a bow that is snapped\\nasunder.\\nLithe and supple my limbs as the sinuous serpent,\\nAnd quick as the eye and the tongue of the serpent\\nmine anger\\nThat flashed out the fire of my hate on the scorn\\nof my scorners.\\nBut hate soon softened to love, as fire into sunlight,\\nWhen my eyes met the eyes of the chieftain, my\\nlord, and my master.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "The Vengeance of Saki 57\\nSweet as the flowers that bloom on the blossoming\\nprairie,\\nGladder than voices of fountains that dance in the\\nsunlight,\\nWere the new and tremulous fancies that dwelt in\\nmy bosom;\\nFor he was my king and my sun, and the power of\\nhis glance\\nTo me as at springtime the returning sun to the\\nlandscape,\\nAnd his touch and the sound of his voice that set\\nmy heart throbbing.\\nSweet were the days of the summer I dwelt in his\\ntent,\\nAnd glad and loving the nights that I lay on his\\nbosom.\\nBut woe, woe, woe, to the summer that fades into\\nautumn,\\nAnd woe upon woe is the love that dwindles and\\ndies,\\nAnd ere my hot heart was abrim with its summer\\nof loving\\nI knew that its autumn had come, that his love\\nwas another s\\nA blue-eyed haughty captive they brought from\\nthe East,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "58 The Vengeance of Saki\\nHer hair like moving sunlight that rippled and ran\\nWith the golden flow of a brook from her brow\\nto her girdle.\\nHe saw her, he looked on her face, and I was for-\\ngotten\\nYea, I and the love that fed on my soul in its an-\\nguish\\nHa Ha it is joy for the hearts that we crush as\\nwe thunder\\nHo Ho for the hate of the winds that laugh to\\nmy laughter\\nHa Ha it is well for the shriekings that pass into\\nsilence,\\nAs under the night, out into the darkness forever,\\nRides the wild hate of Saki, the mad snake-woman\\nI bowed my head with its woe to him in my an-\\nguish\\nI veiled my face in my hair like the night of my\\nsorrow\\nAnd I plead with him there by the love that was\\ntrue and forgiving\\nOh my lord and my love, by the days that are\\npast of our loving,\\nOh slay thy poor Saki, but send her not forth in\\nher anguish", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "The Vengeance of Saki 59\\nAnd I fell to the earth with my face, like the moon\\nhid in heaven,\\nIn the folds of my hair. But he sate there and\\nuttered no answer\\nAnd the white woman sate there, and scorned at\\nthe woe of my sorrow.\\nThen I bit my tongue through that had prayed\\nfor the pity ungiven,\\nAnd I rose with my hate in my eyes, like the light-\\nning in heaven\\nThat leaps red to kill with a hiss like the snake\\nthat they called me\\nAnd I looked on them there, and I cursed them,\\nthe man, and the woman\\nThe man whose lips had kissed my love into being,\\nAnd the woman whose beauty had withered that\\nlove into ashes\\nWith curses so dread and so deep that he rose up\\nand smote me,\\nAnd hounded me forth like a dog to die in the\\ndesert.\\nHa Ha it is joy for the hearts that we crush\\nas we thunder\\nHo Ho for the hate of the winds that laugh to\\nmy laughter", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "60 The Vengeance of Saki\\nHa Ha it is well for the shriekings that pass\\ninto silence,\\nAs under the night, out into the blackness for ever,\\nRides the wild hate of Saki, the mad snake-woman\\nThen wandered I forth an outcast hounded and\\nbeaten\\nCareless whither I went or living or dying,\\nWith that load of despair at my heartstrings wear-\\ning to madness.\\nLong and loud I laughed at the heaven that mocked\\nme\\nWith its beautiful sounds and its sights and the joy\\nof its being,\\nFor I longed but to die and to go to that region of\\ndarkness\\nWhere I might shroud me and curse in my mad-\\nness for ever.\\nFar, oh far I fled till my feet were wounded\\nAnd bruised and cut by the ways unkindly and\\ncruel.\\nThen all the world grew red and the sun as a fur-\\nnace,\\nAnd I raved till I knew no more for a horrible\\nseason.\\nThen I arose, and stood like one in a dream\\nWho, after long years of forgetting, sudden remem-\\nbers", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "The Vengeance of Sakt 6 1\\nThe dread wild cry of a wrong that clamors for\\nrighting\\nThen sending a curse to the heart of the night sky,\\nI turned me\\nAnd fled like the wind of the winter, the sound of\\nwhose footstep is vengeance.\\nLate, when the moon had lowered, I entered his\\nvillage,\\nAnd threading the silent streets came to the well-\\nknown tent-door,\\nAnd, dragging aside the skins, with serpentine mo-\\ntion\\nEntered now as a thief where once I had entered\\nas mistress.\\nAnd there in the gleam of the moon, with the flame\\nof her hair on his bosom,\\nLay the woman I hated like hell with the man I\\nloved clasped to her heart.\\nHa Ha it is joy for the hearts that we crush as\\nwe thunder\\nHo Ho for the hate of the winds that laugh to\\nmy laughter\\nHa Ha it is well for the shriekings that pass\\ninto silence,\\nAs under the night, out into the blackness forever,\\nRides the wild hate of Saki, the mad snake-woman", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "62 The Vengeance of Saki\\nIf hate could have slain they d have shrivelled up\\nthere in the moonlight\\nBut theirs was a sin too deep for the kiss of a\\nknife-blade.\\nLong did I stand like a poisoned wind in a desert,\\nGray and sad and despairing, and nursing my\\nhate;\\nWhen out of the night, like one voice that calls to\\nanother,\\nCame the far-off neigh of a horse, and a mad joy\\nleaped to my veins,\\nAnd a thought curled into my heart as a serpent\\ncoils into a flower;\\nAnd I turned me, and left them there in their\\nfoolish love and their slumber\\nThat my hot heart hissed was their last.\\nThen hurrying out of the door that flapped in the\\nnight-wind I fled,\\nWith a pent-up hunger of hate that maddened to\\nburst from its sluices,\\nAnd came to a place on the plain far up and out\\nfrom the village,\\nWhere tethered in rows of hurdles, champing and\\nrestless and neighing,\\nHalf a thousand horses were herded under the\\nnight.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "The Vengeance of Saki 63\\nHa Ha I live it anew, I dream it again in my\\nmadness.\\nI see that moving ocean of shimmering flanks in\\nthe moonlight\\nI snatch a brand from a watchfire that smoulders\\nand dwindles\\nI creep around to the side of the herd remote from\\nthe village\\nI cry, a low call, that is answered by a neigh and a\\nwhinny\\nThen I leap to the back of an ebon stallion that\\nknows me.\\nT is but the cut of a thong, a cry in the night,\\nA fiery waving brand like lightning to thunder,\\nA terrified moaning and neighing, a heaving of\\nnecks and of haunches\\nA bound, a rush, a crack of a thong, then a whirl-\\nwind of hoofs\\nLike a sweep of a wave on a beach we are thun-\\ndering onwards,\\nNeck and neck in the wake of my hate, that ever\\nbefore us\\nClamors from heaven to hell in its terrible ven-\\ngeance\\nWith neck outstretched and mad eyes agleam in\\nthe moonlight,\\nI see on ahead the sleeping huts in the moonlight.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "64 The Vengeance of Saki\\nHa Ha they will rest well under the sleep that\\nwe bring them\\nSee, see, we are nearing them now the first wild\\nthundering hoof-beats\\nHave ridden them down, mid the shriekings and\\ngroanings of anguish,\\nBlotting them out with their loves and their hates\\ninto blackness.\\nHa Ha ride, ride, my beauties, my terrible\\ntramplers\\nPound, pound into dust the mother, the child, and\\nthe husband\\nPound, pound to the pulse of my hate that exults\\nin your thunders\\nHa Over the little ones nestled to suckle the\\nbosom,\\nOver the man that I loved, we thunder, we thunder!\\nOver the woman I hate with the flame of her hair\\non his bosom\\nTrampling, treading them down out into silence\\nand blackness,\\nLike the swirl of a merciless storm we sweep on\\nto darkness forever\\nAnd now, when the moon is in heaven, and under\\nthe night\\nIs heard on the winds the thunder of shadowy\\nhorses,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "The Vengeance of Saki 65\\nThen out of the dark I arise, and again am a\\nwoman\\nAnd leap to the back of an ebon steed that knows\\nme,\\nAnd hound him on in the wake of hoofs that thun-\\nder;\\nWhile under the mirk and the moon, out into the\\nblackness,\\nRound the world s edge with an eerie, mad, echo-\\ning laughter,\\nLeaps the long cry of the hate of the wild snake-\\nwoman.\\nHa Ha it is joy for the hearts that we crush as\\nwe thunder!\\nHo Ho for the hate of the winds that laugh to\\nmy laughter\\nHa Ha it is well for the shriekings that pass\\ninto silence,\\nAs under the night, out into the blackness forever,\\nRides the wild hate of Saki, the mad snake-woman", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "Love\\nLOVE came at dawn when all the world was\\nfair,\\nWhen crimson glories, bloom, and song were\\nrife;\\nLove came at dawn when hope s wings fanned the\\nair,\\nAnd murmured, I am life.\\nLove came at even when the day was done,\\nWhen heart and brain were tired, and slumber\\npressed\\nLove came at eve, shut out the sinking sun,\\nAnd whispered, I am rest*\\n66", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "Victoria\\nJUBILEE ODE, A. D. 1 897\\nTT7ITH thunder of cannon and far-off roll of\\ndrum,\\nAnd martial music blaring forth her glory,\\nMid miles of thronging millions down each street\\nWhere all the earth is bound in one heart-beat\\nThe world s great Empire s greatest Queen doth\\ncome,\\nBorne on one mighty, rocking earthquake voice\\nWherein all peoples of wide earth rejoice\\nShe comes, she comes, to beat of martial drums,\\nAnd pageants blazoning England s ancient story\\nThe good, gray Queen, whose majesty and worth\\nHave lent their radiance to remotest earth\\nWhile the splendor and might and power of her\\nmighty empire bound her;\\nAnd the serried millions, mad with joy, are near\\nher,\\nAll to love her, none to fear her,\\nBut nearer far than power, than splendor dearer,\\nThe surging love of her loved people round her.\\n67", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "68 Victoria\\nShe comes, she comes, encircled by her people,\\nWhile praise to Heaven peals out from tower and\\nsteeple,\\nInto the great cathedral, hushed and dim,\\nWith thankful heart and humble queenly head\\nOver the sleep of England s mighty dead,\\nTo render up her heart s best thoughts to Him\\nThe King of Kings mid hush of priestly tread,\\nAnd gloried anthem s solemn pealing hymn.\\nThe mighty millions, awed, now bow the head,\\nThank Heaven for her simple, noble life,\\nEarth s queenliest empress, mother, daughter, wife\\nThank Heaven for all she held her dearest own\\nForgiveness for the weakness she hath known\\nBlessings on her wise old widowed head,\\nFor what her life is now, and what her life hath\\nbeen,\\nNoble mother, wife and Queen\\nLet the mighty organs roll, and the mighty throng\\ndisperse\\nShe is ours, and we are hers,\\nAnd both are Britain s. Both to Britain s God\\nLift up the heart-felt praise for the might of splen-\\ndid days,\\nFor the glory that hath been.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "Victoria 69\\nLet the cannon thunder out, and the miles of\\nvoices shout Victoria\\nLet the bells peal out afar, till the rocket tells the\\nstar,\\nAnd the ocean shouts its paean to the thunder-\\nanswering bar\\nEngland s glory, Britain s pride,\\nRevered of half a world beside,\\nO good gray Queen, Victoria\\nDaughter of monarchs, mother of kings 5\\nAll her sorrows we have shared,\\nAll her triumphs they are ours.\\nKind Heaven, that virtue still endowers,\\nBe with her, may her path be flowers\\nBe with her, may her days be spared,\\nDeath aloof with shadowing wings,\\nUnto nature s latest hours\\nDaughter of monarchs, mother of kings,\\nO good gray Queen, Victoria\\nLet all feuds of faction die,\\nLet the blaring party bugles cease to blow,\\nLet insincere and base detraction lie,\\nWith sore defeat and bitterness, her carping sisters,\\nlow,\\nIn this one supremest hour,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "70 Victoria\\nDay of Britain s ancient power,\\nDay of all her golden dower,\\nOf victory-towering centuries, tower on tower.\\nLet all our hatreds be forgot,\\nAll bitterness be swept away,\\nRemembering only the glory of our lot\\nIn this century-honoring day\\nCelt and Scot and Saxon, let us only know,\\nA mighty Queen comes to her own at last,\\nHer people s love and reverence as the glow\\nOf some splendid western heaven,\\nDeepening into richer even,\\nEre it purples to the vast.\\nPast the mailed gates of fears,\\nThe hooded menace of the years,\\nWhere rang the iron voices rolling on her ears,\\nOf royal dreams the requiem and pall,\\nAnd awful fates of thrones foredoomed to fall\\nOur aged Queen, on this glad day she stands\\nAmid the throbbings of her land s great love,\\nFirm in her rule, her faith in God above,\\nEarth s golden keys of happiness in her hands.\\nO splendid life of Britain s splendid days\\nO noble soul, above all blame or praise\\nO fame that will outlast our little fame", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "Victoria y i\\nO long-enduring honor greater than time or death\\nO name that will outlive even that immortal name,\\nEngland s more ancient glory, the great Elizabeth\\nAnd we, thy loyal subjects far away,\\nIn these new lands that own thy sceptre s sway,\\nBetwixt thy Royal Isle and far Cathay\\nAcross the thunder of the western foam,\\nO good gray Queen, our hearts go home, go\\nhome,\\nTo thine and thee\\nWe are thine own while empires rise and wane,\\nWe are thine own for blessing or for bane,\\nAnd, come the shock of thundering war again,\\nFor death or victory\\nNot that we hate our brothers to the south,\\nThey are our fellows in the speech of mouth,\\nThey are our wedded kindred, our own blood,\\nThe same world-evils we and they withstood,\\nOur aims are theirs, one common future good\\nNot that we hate them, but that there doth lie\\nWithin our hearts a golden fealty\\nTo Britain, Britain, Britain, till the world doth die.\\nAnd him we send thee as our greatest son,\\nThe people s choice, to whose firm hand is given", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "72 Victoria\\nThe welfare of our country under heaven\\nNo truer son hast thou in all thy coasts,\\nNo wiser, kindlier, stronger, Britain boasts\\nOur knightly leader, Norman in his blood,\\nBut truest Briton in heart and speech and mind,\\nBeloved well of all his fellow-kind,\\nIn statesmanship our nation s highest mood,\\nOur silver-tongued and golden-hearted one,\\nIn every inch and every thought a man,\\nOur noblest type, ideal Canadian\\nReceive him mid those, greatest, thou dost own,\\nThy mighty empire-builders, bastioning round thy\\nthrone.\\nO England s latest, greatest Queen,\\nGreatness more great than all her greatness that\\nhath been,\\nUnder thy sceptre the outmost continents hang,\\nAnd trackless oceans thunder out their surges.\\nThese are thy realms. Never in earth s old story\\nHath queen of earthly realm owned such resplen-\\ndent glory.\\nNot golden Homer such wondrous kingdoms sang.\\nRound earth s wide girdle thy mighty empire\\nverges,\\nOut-splendoring all prophecy of olden days", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "Victoria\\n73\\nThou, latest and greatest on that throne whose base\\nWithstood the shock of centuries, still withstands\\nThe lowering hate of Europe s iron bands\\nIn thy true keeping shall that sceptre be\\nA golden wand of happiness to the free\\nWho call thee Queen from outmost sea to sea.\\nThat throne to them a mighty lighthouse tower,\\nA truth-compelling majesty of light,\\nBlinding the mists of ignorance and night,\\nWhere round its base throughout the centuries\\nflight,\\nThunder in vain earth s hosts upon its iron power.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "England\\nENGLAND, England, England,\\nGirdled by ocean and skies,\\nAnd the power of a world and the heart of a race,\\nAnd a hope that never dies.\\nEngland, England, England,\\nWherever a true heart beats,\\nWherever the rivers of commerce flow,\\nWherever the bugles of conquest blow,\\nWherever the glories of liberty grow,\\nT is the name that the world repeats.\\nAnd ye who dwell in the shadow\\nOf the century s sculptured piles,\\nWhere sleep our century-honored dead\\nWhile the great world thunders overhead,\\nAnd far out miles on miles,\\nBeyond the smoke of the mighty town,\\nThe blue Thames dimples and smiles\\nNot yours alone the glory of old,\\nOf the splendid thousand years,\\nOf Britain s might and Britain s right\\n74", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "England 75\\nAnd the brunt of British spears.\\nNot yours alone, for the great world round\\nReady to dare and do,\\nScot and Celt and Norman and Dane,\\nWith the Northman s sinew and heart and brain,\\nAnd the Northman s courage for blessing or\\nbane\\nAre England s heroes too.\\nNorth and South and East and West,\\nWherever their triumphs be,\\nTheir glory goes home to the ocean-girt isle\\nWhere the heather blooms and the roses smile\\nWith the green isle under her lee\\nAnd if ever the smoke of an alien gun\\nShould threaten her iron repose,\\nShoulder to shoulder against the world,\\nFace to face with her foes,\\nScot and Celt and Saxon are one\\nWhere the glory of England goes.\\nAnd we of the newer and vaster West,\\nWhere the great war banners are furled,\\nAnd commerce hurries her teeming hosts,\\nAnd the cannon are silent along our coasts,\\nSaxon and Gaul, Canadians claim\\nA part in the glory and pride and aim\\nOf the Empire that girdles the world.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "j 6 England\\nEngland, England, England,\\nWherever the daring heart\\nBy Arctic floe or torrid strand\\nThy heroes play their part\\nFor as long as conquest holds the earth,\\nOr commerce sweeps the sea,\\nBy Orient jungle or Western plain,\\nWill the Saxon spirit be.\\nAnd whatever the people that dwell beneath,\\nOr whatever the alien tongue,\\nOver the freedom and peace of the world\\nIs the flag of England flung.\\nTill the last great freedom is found,\\nAnd the last great truth be taught,\\nTill the last great deed be done\\nAnd the last great battle is fought\\nTill the last great fighter is slain in the last great\\nfight\\nAnd the war-wolf is dead in his den,\\nEngland, breeder of hope and valor and might,\\nIron mother of men.\\nYea, England, England, England,\\nTill honor and valor are dead,\\nTill the world s great cannons rust,\\nTill the world s great hopes are dust,\\nTill faith and freedom be fled,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "England j y\\nTill wisdom and justice have passed\\nTo sleep with those who sleep in the many-cham-\\nbered vast,\\nTill glory and knowledge are charnelled dust in\\ndust,\\nTo all that is best in the world s unrest,\\nIn heart and mind you are wed.\\nWhile out from the Indian jungle\\nTo the far Canadian snows,\\nOver the east and over the west,\\nOver the worst and over the best,\\nThe flag of the world to its winds unfurled,\\nThe blood-red ensign blows.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "Sebastian Cabot\\ni\\n\\\\JEW startled from her sensual dreams,\\nEuropa half-expectant lay,\\nRevolving dimly broken gleams\\nOf some far-off unrisen day,\\nAs one sees through dim mists of night\\nSome far, majestic, moon-paved mountain way.\\nOn grim and barbarous couch reclined,\\nGroped blindly toward her ultimate goal,\\nWhen she through midnight of the mind\\nWould wake to knowledge of her soul.\\nSo with a prescience all divine,\\nShe left her bestial gods behind,\\nAnd turned her toward the western stars,\\nWhen this old rugged, princely tar-of-tars\\nBeat bravely out, where heaving leagues on leagues\\nBillowed the western brine.\\nii\\nGreater than power or splendor,\\nOr birth, or might of gold,\\nIs the noble life of a noble man\\n78", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "Sebastian Cabot 79\\nOf a heart both brave and bold\\nAll honor to the spirit\\nThat knows not earth s defeat,\\nThat meets with courage true and strong\\nWhat brave souls have to meet\\nAnd honor to the hero,\\nWho centuries ago\\nSailed out from old Bristowe\\nInto the trackless waters of the west\\nWho bravely beat and beat\\nWhere sky and waters meet,\\nTill he saw his white cliffs vanish\\nUnder ocean s heaving breast\\nNor cowardly turned him back,\\nBut held straight on his track,\\nThough old ocean rose up ravening in gray and an-\\ngry wrack,\\nAnd bravely beat and bore up to the west\\nAll honor to his spirit,\\nFor the glories we inherit,\\nAnd peace of mighty slumber\\nBreathe calmly round his rest\\nWhere er his earthy bed,\\nAbout his pillowed head\\nForever beats old Ocean s monotone\\nFor even from a child he loved its voices wild,\\nIts splendid throb that made his heart its own.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "8o Sebastian Cabot\\nIII\\nI dream his name, and there doth come to me,\\nA vision of league-long breakers landward hurled\\nOf olden ships far-beating out to sea;\\nOf splendid shining wastes of heaving green\\nFar-stretching round the world\\nOf many voices heard from many lands,\\nTorrid and Arctic, Orient, and the Line;\\nOf heaving of vast anchors, vanishing strands\\nAnd over all the wonder and thunder and wash\\nOf the loud, world-conquering brine.\\nOf sky-rimmed waste, or fog-enshrouded reef,\\nWhere some mad siren ever sings the grief\\nOf all the mighty wrecks in that weird span\\nSince ocean and time began.\\nIV\\nVenice and England cradled\\nCould this seaman be\\nOther than ocean s child,\\nWith heart less restless than that vast and wild\\nGreat heart of the thrilling sea\\nWakened to her long thunders,\\nCradled in her soft voice,\\nCould other voice of all earth s voices sweet\\nMake his stern heart rejoice", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "Sebastian Cabot 8 1\\nYea, this was better than all, greater than all to\\nhim,\\nTruer than youth s mad whim,\\nThe only love of his youth, the only lore of his\\nage,\\nTo gaze on her vast tumultuous scroll,\\nTo pore on her wrinkled page\\nFor he was very soul of her soul,\\nAnd she meet mother for him.\\nOver the hazy distance,\\nBeyond the sunset s rim,\\nForever and forever\\nThose voices called to him.\\nWestward westward westward\\nThe sea sang in his head,\\nAt morn in the busy harbor,\\nAt nightfall on his bed\\nWestward westward westward\\nOver the line of breakers,\\nOut of the distance dim\\nForever the foam-white fingers\\nBeckoning, beckoning him.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "82 Sebastian Cabot\\nVI\\nThis was no common spirit,\\nThis sailor of old Bristowe\\nNot one of the mart-made helots\\nSuch as the world doth know;\\nBut a bronzed and rugged veteran,\\nAdrift in the vanguard s flow\\nA son of the world s great highway\\nWhere the mighty storm winds blow.\\nVII\\nAll honor to this grand old Pilot,\\nWhose flag is struck, whose sails are furled,\\nWhose ship is beached, whose voyage ended;\\nWho sleeps somewhere in sod unknown,\\nWithout a slab, without a stone,\\nIn that great Island, sea-impearled.\\nYea, reverence with honor blended,\\nFor this old seaman of the past,\\nWho braved the leagues of ocean hurled,\\nWho out of danger knowledge rended,\\nAnd built the bastions, sure and fast,\\nOf that great bridgeway grand and vast\\nOf golden commerce round the world.\\nAll honor yea, a day shall come,\\nIf glory lives in human rhyme,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "Sebastian Cabot 83\\nWhen our poor faltering lips are dumb\\nA greater and more splendid time,\\nWhen larger men of mightier aim\\nShall do meet honor to his name.\\nYea, honor only greatness keeps\\nIts sanctuary where this seaman sleeps\\nThis old Venetian, Briton-born,\\nWho held of fear a hero s scorn,\\nWho nailed his colors to the mast,\\nWho sought in reverence for the true,\\nAnd found it in the rifting blue\\nOf those broad furrows of the vast\\nWho knew no honors, held no state,\\nBut in his ruggedness was great.\\nWho like some sea-shell, in him felt\\nThe universe of ocean dwelt,\\nWhose whole true being nature cast\\nLike his own ocean-spaces, vast\\nVIII\\nYea, he is dead this mighty seaman\\nFour long centuries ago.\\nBeating westward, ever westward,\\nBeating out from old Bristowe,\\nSaw he far in visions lifted,\\nDown the golden sunset s glow,\\nThrough the bars of twilight rifted,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "84 Sebastian Cabot\\nAll the glories that we know.\\nBeating westward, ever westward,\\nOver heaving leagues of brine,\\nBuffeted by arctic scurries,\\nLanguid trade-winds from the line\\nWith a courage heaven-gifted,\\nAnd a fortitude divine.\\nYea, he is dead but who shall say\\nThat all the splendid deeds he wrought,\\nThat all the lofty truths he taught\\n(If truth be knowledge nobly sought),\\nAre dead and vanished quite away\\nNay nay, he lives and such as he,\\nIn every lofty human dream,\\nIn every true sublimity\\nThat splendors earth and makes it teem\\nWith inward might and majesty\\nThis grand old Pilot of Bristowe,\\nIncarnate, comes to earth again,\\nAs when, four hundred years ago,\\nHe swept in storm and shine and snow,\\nAthwart the thunders of the main.\\nIX\\nGreater far than shaft or storied fane,\\nThan bronze and marble blent,\\nGreater than all the honors he could gain", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "Sebastian Cabot 85\\nFrom a nation s high intent,\\nHe sleeps alone, in his great isle, unknown,\\nWith the chalk-cliffs all around him for his mighty\\ngrave-yard stone,\\nAnd the league-long sounding roar\\nOf old ocean, forevermore\\nBeating, beating, about his rest,\\nFor fane and monument.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "The World-Mother\\n(Scotland)\\nBY crag and lonely moor she stands,\\nThis mother of half a world s great men,\\nAnd kens them far by sea-wracked lands,\\nOr orient jungle or western fen.\\nAnd far out mid the mad turmoil,\\nOr where the desert places keep\\nTheir lonely hush, her children toil,\\nOr wrapt in wide-world honor sleep.\\nBy Egypt s sands or western wave,\\nShe kens her latest heroes rest,\\nWith Scotland s honor o er each grave,\\nAnd Britain s flag above each breast.\\nAnd some at home. Her mother love\\nKeeps crooning wind-songs o er their graves,\\nWhere Arthur s castle looms above,\\nOj Strathy storms or Solway raves.\\n86", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "The World-Mother 87\\nOr Lomond unto Nevis bends\\nIn olden love of clouds and dew;\\nWhere Trosach unto Stirling sends\\nGreetings that build the years anew.\\nOut where her miles of heather sweep,\\nHer dust of legend in his breast,\\nNeath aged Dryburgh s aisle and keep,\\nHer Wizard Walter takes his rest.\\nAnd her loved ploughman, he of Ayr,\\nMore loved than any singer loved\\nBy heart of man amid those rare,\\nHigh souls the world hath tried and proved\\nWhose songs are first to heart and tongue,\\nWherever Scotsmen greet together,\\nAnd, far-out alien scenes among,\\nGo mad at the glint of a sprig of heather.\\nAnd he her latest wayward child,\\nHer Louis of the magic pen,\\nWho sleeps by tropic crater piled,\\nFar, far, alas, from misted glen\\nWho loved her, knew her, drew her so,\\nBeyond all common poet s whim", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "88 The World-Mother\\nIn dreams the whaups are calling low,\\nIn sooth her heart is woe for him.\\nAnd they, her warriors, greater none\\nE er drew the blade of daring forth,\\nHer Colin under Indian sun,\\nHer Donald 2 of the fighting North.\\nOr he, her greatest hero, he,\\nWho sleeps somewhere by Nilus sands,\\nGrave Gordon, mightiest of those free,\\nGreat captains of her fighting bands.\\nYea, these and myriad myriads more,\\nWho stormed the fort or ploughed the\\nmain,\\nTo free the wave or win the shore,\\nShe calls in vain, she calls in vain.\\nBrave sons of her, far severed wide\\nBy purpling peak or reeling foam\\nFrom western ridge or orient side,\\nShe calls them home, she calls them home.\\n1 Colin Campbell, Hero of Lucknow.\\n2 Sir Donald Mackay, first Lord Reay, whose Mackay Dutch regi-\\nment was famous in the thirty years war.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "The World-Mother 89\\nAnd far, from east to western sea,\\nThe answering word comes back to her,\\nOur hands were slack, our hopes were free,\\nWe answered to the blood astir\\nThe life by Kelpie loch was dull,\\nThe homeward slothful work was done,\\nWe followed where the world was full,\\nTo dree the weird our fates had spun.\\nWe built the brigg, we reared the town,\\nWe spanned the earth with lightning gleam,\\nWe ploughed, we fought, mid smile and frown,\\nWhere all the world s four corners teem.\\nBut under all the surge of life,\\nThe mad race-fight for mastery,\\nThough foremost in the surgent strife,\\nOur hearts went back, went back to thee.\\nFor the Scotsman s speech is wise and slow,\\nAnd the Scotsman s thought it is hard to ken,\\nBut through all the yearnings of men that go,\\nHis heart is the heart of the northern glen.\\nHis song is the song of the windy moor,\\nAnd the humming pipes of the squirling din", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "90 The World-Mother\\nAnd his love is the love of the shieling door,\\nAnd the smell of the smoking peat within.\\nAnd nohap how much of the alien blood\\nIs crossed with the strain that holds him fast,\\nMid the world s great ill and the world s great good,\\nHe yearns to the Mother of men at last.\\nFor there s something strong and something true\\nIn the wind where the sprig of heather is blown\\nAnd something great in the blood so blue,\\nThat makes him stand like a man alone.\\nYea, give him the road and loose him free,\\nHe sets his teeth to the fiercest blast,\\nFor there s never a toil in a far countrie,\\nBut a Scotsman tackles it hard and fast.\\nHe builds their commerce, he sings their songs,\\nHe weaves their creeds with an iron twist,\\nAnd making of laws or righting of wrongs,\\nHe grinds it all as the Scotsman s grist.\\nYea, there by crag and moor she stands,\\nThis mother of half a world s great men,\\nAnd out of the heart of her haunted lands\\nShe calls her children home again.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "The World-Mother 91\\nAnd over the glens and the wild sea floors\\nShe peers so still as she counts her cost,\\nWith the whaups low calling over the moors,\\nWoe, woe, for the great ones she hath lost.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "The Lazarus of Empire\\nTHE Celt, he is proud in his protest,\\nThe Scot, he is calm in his place,\\nFor each has a word in the ruling and doom\\nOf the Empire that honors his race\\nAnd the Englishman, dogged and grim,\\nLooks the world in the face as he goes,\\nAnd he holds a proud lip, for he sails his own ship,\\nAnd he cares not for rivals nor foes\\nBut lowest and last, with his areas vast,\\nAnd horizon so servile and tame,\\nSits the poor beggar Colonial\\nWho feeds on the crumbs of her fame.\\nHe knows no place in her councils,\\nHe holds no part in the word\\nThat girdles the world with its thunders\\nWhen the fiat of Britain is heard\\nHe beats no drums to her battles,\\nHe gives no triumphs her name,\\nBut lowest and last, with his areas vast,\\nHe feeds on the crumbs of her fame.\\n92", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "The Lazarus of Empire 93\\nHow long, O how long, the dishonor,\\nThe servile and suppliant place\\nAre we Britons who batten upon her,\\nOr degenerate sons of the race\\nIt is souls that make nations, not numbers,\\nAs our forefathers proved in the past.\\nLet us take up the burden of empire,\\nOr nail our own flag to the mast.\\nDoth she care for us, value us, want us,\\nOr are we but pawns in the game\\nWhere lowest and last, with our areas vast,\\nWe feed on the crumbs of her fame", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "In Holyrood\\n1897\\nI STAND in Edinburgh, in Holyrood,\\nWhere Scotland s Mary flaunted iron Knox\\ncame,\\nWith cavernous eyes and words of prophet-flame,\\nAnd broke her soul as bonds of brittle wood\\nAnd all stern Scotland s evil and her good,\\nHer austere ghosts, her souls of fiery shame,\\nHer adamantine passions none could tame,\\nArise anew and drip in Rizzio s blood.\\nHere in these walls, these guilty corridors,\\nBeside 1 that bed where Elizabeth s eyes look\\ndown\\nAcross the centuries with their fading band\\nOf angry years of Presbyterian frown,\\nI only know these tears 2 of weird remorse\\nThe woman rules. All else is shifting sand.\\n1 In Queen Mary s bedroom in Holyrood, a portrait of Queen\\nElizabeth hangs on the wall above the bed.\\n2 It is said that Knox, during this memorable interview, made the\\nQueen weep.\\n94", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "Unabsolved\\nA DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE\\n(This poem is founded on the confession of a man\\nwho went with one of the expeditions to save Sir John\\nFranklin s party, and who, being sent ahead, saw signs\\nof them, but, through cowardice, was afraid to tell.)\\nFATHER, hear my tale, then pity me,\\nFor even God his pity hath withdrawn.\\ndeath was dread and awful in those days\\nYou prate of hell and punishment to come,\\nAnd endless torments made for those who sin.\\nStern priest, put down your cross and hearken\\nme;\\n1 see forever a white glinting plain,\\nFrom night to night across the twinkling dark,\\nA world of cold and fear and dread and death,\\nAnd poor lost ones who starve and pinch and\\ndie;\\nI could have saved them I- yea, even I.\\nYou talk of hell Is hell to see poor frames,\\nWan, leathery cheeks, and dull, despairing eyes,\\nFrom whence a low-flamed madness ebbing out,\\n95", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "9 6 Unabsolved\\nGoes slowly deathward through the eerie hours,\\nTo hear forever pitiless, icy winds\\nFeel in the shivering canvas of the tent,\\nWith idle, brute curiosity nature hath,\\nWhile out around, one universe of death,\\nStretches the loveless, hearthless arctic night\\nThis is my doom, it sitteth by my side,\\nAnd never leaves me through the desolate years.\\nGo, take your hell to men who never lived,\\nSave as the slow world wendeth, sluggish, dull.\\nEven they must suffer also, poor bleak ones,\\nThen is your feeble comfort nothing worth.\\nYou tell me to have hope, God will forgive.\\nO Priest, can God forgive a sin like mine\\nYou say He is all-loving, did He lie\\nWith me that night amid the eyeless dark,\\nAnd writhe with me, and whisper, Save thyself,\\nThat way to north lies cold and age and death,\\nAnd awful failure on men s awed tongues,\\nTo linger years hereafter; Southward lies\\nHome heat and love, and sweet, blood-pulsing life,\\nLife, with its morns and eves and glad to-morrows,\\nAnd joy and hope for many days to be\\nDid He, I say, lie with me there that night,\\nAnd know that awful tragedy beyond,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "Unabsolved 97\\nAnd my poor tragedy enacted there\\nThen must He feel Him since as I have felt,\\nAnd live that hideous misery in His heart.\\nAnd, knowing this, I say unto thee, priest,\\nHe could not be a God and say, forgive.\\nYou plead my soul s salvation the one end\\nAnd aim of all my thought j then hearken, priest,\\nFor this my sin hath made me more than wise\\nThat seems to me the one great sin I sinned\\nIn selling all to save mine evil self.\\nStay, hearken, priest, and haunt me not with hopes\\nAs futile as those icy-fingered winds\\nThat stirred the canvas there that arctic night.\\nI bid thee hark and mumble not thy prayers\\nLike August bees heard in a summer room,\\nThat drone afar, but keep them for the dead,\\nThe dull-eared dead who sleep and heed them not.\\nThen hearken, priest, and learn thee of my woe,\\nFor I have lain afar on northern nights,\\nBy star-filled wastes, and conned it o er and o er,\\nAnd thought on God, and life, and many things,\\nAnd all the baffling mystery of the dark.\\nAnd I have held that awful rendezvous\\nOf naked self with self alone and bare,\\nAnd knew myself as men have never known", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "98 Unabsolved\\nHave fought the duel, flashing hilt to hilt,\\nAnd blade to blade, of flesh and spirit there,\\nUntil I lay a weak and wounded thing,\\nLike some poor, mangled bird the sportsman leaves,\\nWrithing and twisting there amid the dark.\\nYou talk of ladders leading up to light,\\nOf windows bursting on the perfect day,\\nOf dawns grown ruddy on the blackest night.\\nYea, I have groped about the muffled walls,\\nAnd beat my spirit s prison all in vain,\\nOnly to find them shrouded fold on fold;\\nAnd still the cruel, icy stars look down,\\nAnd my dread memory stayeth with me still.\\nIt was a strange, mad quest we went upon,\\nTo seek the living in the lifeless north.\\nFor days and days and long, lone, loveless nights\\nWe set our faces toward the arctic sky,\\nAnd threaded wastes of that lone wilderness,\\nBeyond the lands of summer and glad spring,\\nBeyond the regions kind of flower and bird,\\nPast glint horizons of auroral gleams,\\nA haunted world of winter s wizened sleep,\\nWhere death, a giant, aged, and stark and wan,\\nKept fast the entrance of those sunless caves\\nWhere hides the day beyond the icy seas.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "Unabsolved 99\\nLong day by day a desolation went\\nWhere our wan faces fared, o er all that waste\\nAnd I was young and filled with love of life,\\nAnd fear of ugly death as some weird black,\\nThe enemy of love and youth and joy\\nA lonely, ruined bridge at edge of night,\\nFading in blackness at the outer end.\\nAnd those were cold, stern men I went with there,\\nWho held their lives as men do hold a gift\\nNot worth the keeping men who told dread tales,\\nThat made a madness in me of that waste\\nAnd all its hellish, lonely solitude,\\nAnd set my heart abeating for the south,\\nUntil that awful desolation ringed\\nMy reason round, and shrunk my fearful heart.\\nYea, Father, I had saved them but for this\\nWhy did they send me on alone, ahead,\\nPoor me, the only weak one of that band,\\nWho was too much of coward to show my fear\\nWhy did life give me that mad fear of death,\\nTo make me selfish at the very last\\nWhy did God give those men into my hand,\\nAnd leave them victim to a craven fear\\nThat walked those lonely wastes in form of man\\nNo, Father, take your cross, mine is a pain\\nThat only distant ages can out-burn.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "100 Unabsolved\\nForgiveness No, you know not what you say\\nYou churchmen mumble words as charmers do,\\nAnd talk of God and love so glib and pat,\\nAnd think you reach men s souls and give them\\nlight,\\nWhen all the time my spirit is to you\\nA land unfound, a region far-removed,\\nWhere walk dim ghosts of thoughts and fears and\\npains\\nYou never dreamed of. What know you of souls\\nLike this of mine that hath girt misery s sum,\\nAnd found the black with which God veils His\\nface\\nYou say the church absolves, you speak of peace\\nYou talk of what not even God can do,\\nBe He but what you make Him. In my light,\\nAnd mine is light of one who knows the case,\\nThe facts, the reasons, and hath weighed them\\ntoo\\nThere is but one absolver, the absolved.\\nFor I, since that far, fatal, arctic night,\\nHave been alone in some dread, shadowy court,\\nWhere I was judge and guilty prisoner too.\\nWords, words are empty were life built on words,\\nHow rich the poor would grow, the weak be\\nstrong,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "Unabsolved i o I\\nThe hateful loving, and the scornful weak\\nThe king would be a peasant, and the poor\\nA king in his own right the murderer, red\\nFrom his foul guilt, would pass to God s own\\nbreast,\\nAnd all damned things, long damned of earth s con-\\nsent,\\nAnd some dread law much older far than we,\\nWould blossom righteous under heaven s face.\\nStill fared we north across that frozen waste\\nOf icy horror ringed with awful night,\\nTo seek the living in a world of death\\nAnd as we fared a terror grew and grew\\nAbout my heart like madness, till I dreamed\\nA vague desire to flee by night and creep,\\nBy steel-blue windless plain and haunted wood,\\nAnd wizened shore and headland, once more south.\\nThere, as we went, the days grew wan and shrunk,\\nAnd nights grew vast and weird and beautiful,\\nWalled with flame-glories of auroral light,\\nRinging the frozen world with myriad spears\\nOf awful splendor there across the night.\\nAnd ever anon a shadowy, spectral pack\\nOf gleaming eyes and panting, lurid tongues\\nHaunted the lone horizon toward the south.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "102 Unabsolved\\nThen life ebbed lower in the bravest heart,\\nAnd spake the leader, If in ten more days\\nWe chance on nothing, then will we return,\\nAnd set our faces once more to the south.\\nFor that dread land began to close us in,\\nWith cold and hunger, bit at our poor limbs,\\nTill life grew there a feeble, flickering flame,\\nAmid the snows and ice-floes of that land.\\nThen ten days crept out shrunk and gray and wan,\\nWith nothing but the lonely, haunted waste.\\nThen spake the leader, If in five more days\\nThen parcelled out those five gray, haggard days,\\nWhile life to me grew like an ebbing tide,\\nThat surged far out from some dread death-like\\nstrand.\\nAnd horror came upon me like the night,\\nThat seemed to gird the world in desolate walls.\\nThen spake the leader, If in three more days\\nBut when the third day waned we came, at last,\\nUnto the shores of some dread, lonely sea,\\nThat gloomed to north and night, and far beyond,\\nWhere ruined straits and headlands loomed and sank,\\nThere seemed the awful endings of the world.\\nThen spake the leader, Let us go not yet,\\nBut stay a little ere we turn us south,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "Unabsolved 103\\nPerchance, poor souls, they might be somewhere\\nhere.\\nAnd then to me, You go, for you are young\\nAnd strong, and life throbs quickest in your veins,\\nAnd you have eyes more strong to see, for ours\\nAre dimmed by the dread frost-mists of this land\\nAnd creep out there beyond yon gleaming ledge,\\nAnd bring me word of what you there may see.\\nAnd if you meet no sign of mast or sail,\\nOr hull or wreck, or mark of living soul,\\nThen we will turn our faces to the south\\nFor this great ocean s vastness hems us in,\\nAnd death here nightly creeps from strand to strand,\\nAnd binds with girth of black the gleaming world.\\nThen, whispering Madness, madness, to the dark,\\nI crept me fearful o er that gleaming ledge,\\nAnd saw but night and awful gulfs of dark,\\nAnd weird ice-mountains looming desolate there,\\nAnd far beyond the vastness of that sea.\\nAnd then O God, why died I not that hour\\nAmid the gleaming floes far up that shore,\\nSo far it seemed that man s foot scarce could go,\\nThe certain, tapering outline of a mast,\\nAnd one small patch of rag and then I felt\\nNo man could ever live to reach that place,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "104 Unabsolved\\nAnd horror seized me of that haunted world,\\nThat I should die there and be froze for aye,\\nAmid the ice-core of its awful heart.\\nThen crept I back, the weak ghost of a life,\\nA miserable, shaking, coffined fear,\\nAnd spake, I saw but ice and winds and dark,\\nAnd the dread vastness of that desolate sea.\\nAgain he spake, Creep out once more and look\\nPerchance your sight was misled by the gleam.\\nAnd then once more I crept out on that ledge,\\nAnd saw again the night and awful dark,\\nAnd that poor beckoning mast that haunts me yet\\nAnd as I lay those moments seemed to grow,\\nAs men have felt in looking down long years,\\nAnd there I chose twixt evil and the good,\\nAnd took the evil then began my hell,\\nAnd back I crept with that black lie on lips,\\nAnd spake again, I only saw the night,\\nAnd those weird mountains and the awful deep.\\nAt that he moaned and spake, Poor souls poor\\nsouls\\nThen they are doomed if ever men were doomed.\\nWhereat a sudden, great auroral flame\\nFilled all the heaven, lighting wastes and sea,\\nAnd came a wondrous shock across the world,\\nLike sounds of far-off battle where hosts die,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "Unabsolved 105\\nAs if God thundered back mine awful lie,\\nAnd I fell in a heap where all was black.\\nWhen next I lived, we were full three days south,\\nAnd two had died upon that dreadful march\\nThe memory came, and I went laughing mad,\\nBut kept mine awful secret to this hour.\\nNo, priest, you can do nothing pain like mine\\nMust smoulder out in its own agony,\\nTill there be nought but ashes at the last.\\nBut something mid the pauses of the dark\\nDoth teach me that I am not all alone,\\nFor I have dreamed in my dread, maddest hour,\\nAn awful shadow, blacker than my black,\\nWent ever with me. Hearken to me now\\nI never felt a hand or saw a face,\\nI never knew a comfort more than sleep,\\nThe winters they are only barren snows,\\nAnd age is hard, and death waits at the last.\\nBut I have felt in some dim, shapeless way,\\nAs memories long remembered after youth,\\nThat back of all there is some mighty will,\\nBeyond the little dreams that we are here,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "1 06 Unabsolved\\nBeyond the misery of our days and years,\\nBeyond the outmost system s outmost rim,\\nWhere wrinkled suns in awful blackness swim,\\nA wondrous mercy that is working still.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "Her Look\\nI V IME may set his fingers there,\\nFix the smiles that curve about\\nHer winsome mouth, and touch her hair,\\nPut the curves of youth to rout\\nBut the something God put there,\\nThat which drew me to her first,\\nNot the imps of pain and care,\\nNot all sorrow s fiends accurst,\\nCan kill the look that God put there.\\nSomething beautiful and rare,\\nNothing common can destroy\\nNot all the leaden load of care,\\nNot all the dross of earth s alloy\\nBetter than all fame or gold,\\nTrue as only God s own truth,\\nIt is something all hearts hold\\nWho have loved once in their youth.\\nThat sweet look her face doth hold\\nThus will ever be to me;\\n107", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "io8 Her Look\\nJoy may all her pinions fold,\\nCare may come and misery\\nThrough the days of murk and shine,\\nThough the roads be foul or fair,\\nI will see through love s glad eyne\\nThat sweet look that God put there.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "The Wayfarer\\nHE woke with the dawning\\nMet eyes with the sun,\\nAnd drank the wild rapture\\nOf living begun.\\nBut he went with the moment\\nTo follow the clue,\\nEre the first red of dawning\\nHad drunk the blue dew.\\nFollow him, follow him,\\nWhere the world will,\\nUnder the sunlight\\nBy meadow and hill.\\nDown the blue distance,\\nRound the world s rim,\\nWhere the hosts of the future\\nAre horning for him.\\nFollow him, call to him,\\nPray to him, Sweet,\\n109", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "no The Wayfarer\\nTell him the morning\\nIs fresh for his feet\\nSing him the rapture,\\nThe glamour, the gleam\\nOf pearly dew-azure\\nThat curtains the stream\\nSing the glad thrushnote\\nThat never knew pain,\\nBut sing him and call him\\nAnd pray him in vain.\\nFor ere the red dewdrop\\nIn sunlight was pearled,\\nHe heard that mad ocean\\nThat whelms the world.\\nYea, heard that voice calling\\nPast sunlight and dew,\\nThat rarest, alluringest,\\nEver heart knew.\\nThat siren of sunrise,\\nThat weaver of songs,\\nTill the heart of man hearkens\\nAnd gladdens and longs,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "The Wayfarer in\\nTill o er the blue distance,\\nAs opens the rose,\\nThe yearning impulsion\\nOf all his life goes\\nAnd many a dragon\\nChimera so grim,\\nDown the dream of the morning\\nIs vanquished by him.\\nYea, sing to him, call him through\\nHeartache in vain.\\nBut the gladdest day wakened\\nTo glory, must wane\\nAnd the noonday he longed for\\nTo fierce light will burn,\\nAnd the battles he wages\\nGrow bitter and stern\\nAnd the surge of life sink\\nTo the moan of a bar\\nAnd the hopes of the morning\\nGrow hollow and far\\nAnd the road that he follows\\nLess luring and true,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "112 The Wayfarer\\nTill he longs for a whiff\\nOf the morning he knew.\\nFor he hears thy far singing,\\nThat lures not in vain,\\nTill he comes to thy beauty\\nOf dawning again.\\nBut the roads of returning\\nAre never the same\\nAs the sweet dewy meadows\\nOf morning we came.\\nBut the song of alluring\\nIs ever as true,\\nTo lead the heart back\\nTo the beauty it knew\\nAnd vain the mad magic\\nWhere life s glories burn,\\nFor the heart of the yearner\\nWho longs to return\\nFor he hears that voice calling,\\nVoiced never in vain,\\nTo world-heart aweary\\nFor all dreamings fain", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "The Wayfarer 113\\nAnd he hears the low grasses,\\nThe green tents of sod,\\nFrom roof-trees of slumber,\\nAs voices of God\\nAnd the spinning and turning,\\nOf madness amain\\nFade out from his dreaming\\nAs night from the pane,\\nWhen the rosy-red splendor\\nIn dewdreams impearled,\\nFrom ashes of slumber,\\nLifts over the world.\\nYea, back from those echoes\\nOf bugles that blew,\\nHeart-weary, life-broken,\\nHe wanders to you;\\nYea, back to his truest,\\nThose far broken gleams\\nOf that rosy-red, morning-lit\\nHouse of his dreams.\\nWhere all hours were splendid,\\nAnd all hearts held true,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "114 The Wayfarer\\nIn those glory-lit visions\\nOf beauty and you.\\nYea, call to him, cry to him,\\nMother of all\\nYou lit his youth s torches,\\nYou saw their flames fall.\\nYou loved him, upheld him,\\nThis child of thy breast,\\nAnd now give him surcease\\nIn dreamings and rest.\\nThy note was the one note\\nHe heard in the fray,\\nThat bore him far out\\nIn the heat of the day\\nThy call is the one call\\nThat beckons him home,\\nWhen day-fires darken\\nBy forest and foam.\\nWhen o er all the heartache,\\nThe visions untrue,\\nLove draws her dim curtains\\nOf duskfire and dew.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "The Wayfarer 115\\nWhile the bells ring for slumber\\nAs out of the deep,\\nCome pleading those velvet-winged\\nSpirits of sleep.\\nAnd there at thy doorways\\nOf slumber he stands,\\nLike him of old Horeb,\\nAnd sees his heart s lands;\\nAnd under the white awe\\nOf planets that swim,\\nKnows dawning and even\\nAs one world to him.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "o\\nTo the Ottawa\\nUT of the northern wastes, lands of winter\\nand death,\\nRegions of ruin and age, spaces of solitude lost\\nYou wash and thunder and sweep,\\nAnd dream and sparkle and creep,\\nTurbulent, luminous, large,\\nScion of thunder and frost.\\nDown past woodland and waste, lone as the haunt-\\ning of even,\\nOf shrivelled and wind-moaning night when\\nWinter hath wizened the world\\nDown past hamlet and town\\nBy marshes, by forests that frown,\\nBrimming their desolate banks,\\nYour tides to the ocean are hurled.\\n116", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "Departure\\nOLD house now ruined, wrecked and gray,\\nHome once enshrined of love s delight\\nAnd all glad promise of the May,\\nNow hushed in shades of wintry night,\\nOnce garment of a thousand loves,\\nNow but a shroud of glooming stone,\\nWhile sad October moans and roves,\\nOld house, old house, we are alone\\nWe are alone yea, you and I,\\nWho dreamed old summers in their prime\\nNow sad and late, to see them die\\nAlong this ruined verge of time.\\nOld rooms now empty, once so bright,\\nStaircases climbed of gladdening feet,\\nDark windows erstwhile filled with light\\nWhere now but rains of autumn beat\\nWhere now but lorn months call and call\\nAnd sea and gust and night complain,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "1 1 8 Departure\\nWith ghost-boughs shadowing on the wall,\\nOr dead vines knocking at the pane.\\nOld place, whose ceilings, walls and floors\\nStill redolent of love and May\\nOnce more, once more I leave your doors,\\nInto the night I take my way.\\nHuge yawning hearths, once flaming bright\\nOn many a well-loved face and form\\nLong gathered out unto the night\\nTo meet the vastness and the storm,\\nInto the night where I, too, go,\\nBeyond your sheltering walls and doors\\nWhere death s October drives his woe\\nOver a thousand midnight moors,\\nBeyond your sheltering, where I beat\\nTo sleep with stars of dark o ergleamed,\\nOr breast the night of moan and sleet\\nTo meet that morn a world hath dreamed.\\nHath dreamed Hope-hungering heart hath read,\\nAnd carolled morning-lifted lark\\nYea, back of all this muffled dread\\nPerchance some splendor rifts the dark.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "Departure 119\\nYea, though no magic reach its gleams,\\nNor heart of doubting prove it true,\\nOld house, beloved, of my dead dreams,\\nWhile I go forth from love and you.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "Phaethon\\nT PHAETHON: dwelling in that golden house,\\nWhich Hephaistos did build for my great sire,\\nOld Helios, king of glowing heaven and day\\nKnowing this life but mortal in its span,\\nHedged in by puling youth and palsied age,\\nWhere poor men crawl like insects, knowing pain\\nAnd mighty sorrow to the gates of death\\nBesought the god my father by his love,\\nTo grant me that which I did long for most\\nOf all things great in earth and heaven and sea,\\nThe which he granting in his mighty love,\\nOf all things splendid under the splendid sky\\nBuilt of old by toil of ancient gods,\\nTo me the dearest for one round golden day,\\nTo stand in his great chariot built of fire,\\nAnd chase the rosy hours from dawn to dusk,\\nGuiding his fleeting steeds o er heaven s floors.\\nHe gave to me. No god yet brake his word.\\nSpeaking to me in sorrow O my son,\\nKnow what thy foolish pride hath made for thee.\\nThat mortal life which is to men a span,\\nFrom childhood unto youth, and manhood s prime,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "Pbaethon 121\\nReaching on out to happy olden age,\\nFor thee must shrink into one woeful day.\\nFor, O my son, impetuous in thy pride,\\nWho would be as the gods and ape their ways,\\nAnd sacrilegious leave thy mortal bounds,\\nKnow thou must die upon that baleful day,\\nThat terrible day of days thou mountest up\\nTo ride that chariot never mortal rode,\\nAnd drive those steeds that never man hath driven.\\nThen I My father, know me, thine own son,\\nBetter to me to live one day a god,\\nGoing out in some great flame of death,\\nThan live this weary life of common men,\\nMisunderstood, misunderstanding still,\\nHalf wakeful, moving dimly in a dream,\\nConfused, phantasmic, men call history\\nChasing the circles of the perishing suns,\\nThe summers and dim winters, hating all,\\nHeart-eaten for a longing ne er attained,\\nDespising all things named of earth or heaven,\\nOr mortal birth that they should ever be\\nKnowing within this mystery of my being,\\nThis curbed heredity, lies a latent dream\\nOf some old vanished, banished, lease of being,\\nWhen life was life and man s soul lived its hour,\\nUncurbed, uncabined, like the mighty gods,\\nVast, splendid, capable, and heraclean,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "122 Phaethon\\nTo drain the golden beaker of his days.\\nThus I My father, I am over weary,\\nChained in this summer-plot of circumstance,\\nBeaten by fearful custom, childish, chidden,\\nHounded of cruel wolves of superstition,\\nAnd rounded by a petty wall of time,\\nPlodding the dreary years that wend their round,\\nAping the sleeping sensual life of beasts,\\nFearful of all things, dreading mostly death,\\nPast pain and age and all their miseried end,\\nWhere all must rot, who smile and weep and sleep,\\nAnd be a part of all this grim corruption.\\nNay, better to me than the long-measured draught,\\nTrickling out through many anxious years,\\nIron-eaten, haggard, to the place of death\\nTo drain my flagon of life in one glad draught,\\nTo live, to love, aspire, and dare all things\\nBe all I am and others ought to be,\\nReal man or demi-god, to blossom my rose,\\nTo scale my heights, to live my vastest dream,\\nTo climb, to be, and then, if chance my fate,\\nTo greatly fall.\\nThen my great father, laden\\nWith woe divine My son, take thou thy way\\nAs thou hast chosen, thus t will be to thee\\nAnd passing, darkened down his godlike face,\\nAnd shadowed splendor thence forevermore.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "Phaethon\\n123\\nT was night ambrosial down the orient meads,\\nWith stars like winking pearls far-studding heaven,\\nAnd dews all glorious on the bending stem,\\nOdorous, passionate as the rose of sleep\\nHalf-budded on the throbbing heart of night,\\nAnd in the east a glowing sapphire gloomed\\nWhen I awoke and lifted up mine eyes,\\nAnd saw through rose and gold and vermeil dyes,\\nAnd splendid mists of azure hung with pearl,\\nHalf-hid, half-seen, as life would apprehend,\\nAs in a sleep, the presence of dim death\\nAnd fate and terrible gods, the car of day.\\nLike morn within the morning, glad, it hung,\\nLight hid in light, swift blinding all who saw,\\nDazzled, its presence; motionless though vibrate,\\nWhere it did swing athwart the deep-welled night,\\nThe heart of morning in the folds of dark,\\nPulsating sleep, and conquering death with life\\nSo glowed its glory, folded, cloud in cloud,\\nGold within azure, purple shut in gold,\\nThe bud of morning pulsing ere it break,\\nAnd spill its splendors many vermeil-dyed,\\nReddening Ocean to his outmost rim.\\nHere charmed dreams and drowsed magic hung,\\nAnd winged hopes and rosy joys afloat", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "1 24 Phaethon\\nFilled all the air, and I was quick aware\\nThat this was life, and this mine hour supreme,\\nTo seize and act and be one with the gods.\\nSo dreamed I reckless when to think, to act,\\nAnd moved, elate, with swift life-flaming step\\nAthwart the meadow s budding asphodels,\\nSong on my lip, and life at heart and eye,\\nExultant, breathing flame of pride and power.\\nJoy rose and sang, a bird, across the fields,\\nHope s rosy wings shot trembling to the blue,\\nAnd Courage with dauntless steps before me went,\\nBrushing the veils of fierce cobwebby fires.\\nAnd there, before me, sprawled grim ancient Power,\\nA hideous ethiope, huge in sodden sleep,\\nThe golden reins clutched in his titan hands.\\nI snatched, leaped, shouted morning rose in flame,\\nAnd ashweed paled to lily, lily blushed\\nTo ruddy crocus, crocus flamed to rose,\\nAnd out of all, borne on the floors of light,\\nI floated, gloried, up the orient walls,\\nAnd all things woke, and sang of conquering day.\\nHigher, yet higher, out of fiery mists,\\nFilling those meadows of the dew-built dawn,\\nGloried and glorying, power clutched in my hand,\\nWreathed about in terrible splendors, I drave,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "Phaethon 1 25\\nGlowing, the dawn s gold coursers, champing\\nsteam\\nOf snow and pearly foam from golden bridles,\\nForged in blue eidolon forges of the night,\\nBeaten on steely anvils of the stars.\\nThese, champing, reared their fetlocks breathing\\nflame,\\nIn red, dew-draining lances, thundered on,\\nWhelming night, as golden stair by stair\\nThey climbed the glimmering bridgeway of the day.\\nFar under, wreathed in mists, old ocean swayed\\nAnd, cyclops-like, the bearded mountains hung.\\nVast shining rivers with their brimming floors\\nAnd broad curved courses gleamed and glanced and\\nshone,\\nAnd loneliness and gloom and gray despair\\nWith sombre hauntings fled to shuddering night\\nHidden in caves and coral glooms of seas.\\nLow down the east the morn s ambrosial meads\\nSank in soft splendors. Sphering out below,\\nGilded in morning, anchored the patient earth,\\nMountain and valley, ocean and wide plain,\\nOpening to dawn s young footsteps where we\\nwheeled,\\nAnd blossomed wide the rosebud of the day.\\nGlory was mine, but greater, sense of power,", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "126 Phaethon\\nNor marred by fear, as loftier we climbed,\\nWith glinting hoofs, that clanged the azure bridge\\nThat arched from dawning up to flaming noon.\\nDauntless my soul, and fiery-glad my heart,\\nAnd vastness, vastness, sang through all my\\nbeing,\\nAs gloved with adamant I guided on\\nThe day s red coursers up their flaming hill,\\nTo reach the mighty keystone of the day.\\nAll things conspired to build my upward road\\nThe fitful winds of morning, the soft clouds,\\nThat fleece-like swept my cheek, the azure glint\\nOf ocean swaying, restless, on his rim,\\nWhere slept the continents like a serpent curled\\nIn sleep, leviathan, huge, about the world.\\nThen sudden all my waking turned to dream,\\nA madness wherein, hideous, all things hung.\\nThought fled confused, and awful apprehension\\nShadowed my spirit, power and reason fled\\nAnd, maddening, day s red coursers thundered\\non,\\nUncurbed, unguided by my palsied hand.\\nThen with loud ruin, blundering from the bridge,\\nThrough space went swaying, now high up, now\\ndown,", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "Phaethon 127\\nScattering conflagration and fierce death\\nO er earth s shrunk verges where their scorchings\\nscarred.\\nTime fled in terror, forests shrivelled up,\\nOcean drew back in shudderings to his caves,\\nHuge mountains shook and rumbled to their base,\\nGreat streams dried up, old cities smoked and fell,\\nAnd all life met confusion and despair,\\nAnd dread annihilation.\\nThen the Gods,\\nPitying wrecked nature, in their sudden vengeance,\\nMe, impious, hurled from out my dizzying height.\\nTime vanished, reason swooned, then left her\\nthrone,\\nAnd darkness wrapt me as I shuddering fell,\\nOblivion-clouded, to the plunging seas.\\nOcean received me, folding in her deeps,\\nCooling and emerald. Here in coral dreams\\nI rest and cure me, never wholly waking,\\nFilled with one splendor, fumbling in a dream,\\nAs waves do fumble all about a cave,\\nFor one clear memory of that one high day.\\nI failed, was mortal where I climbed I fell.\\nBut all else little matters life was mine,\\nI dreamed, I dared, I grappled with, I fell 5", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "128 Phaethon\\nAnd here I live it over in my dreams.\\nAll things may pass, decline, and come to naught,\\nDeath whelm life as day engulfed in dark,\\nBut I have greatly lived, have greatly dared,\\nAnd death will never wholly wrap me round\\nAnd black me in its terrors. I am made\\nOne with the future, dwelling in the dreams\\nAnd memories dread of envious gods and men.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "The Humming Bee\\nLAD music of the summer s heart\\nJargoning from flower to flower,\\nA part of each unconscious hour\\nUntil the happy days depart\\nG\\nThou dream-like toiler of the fields\\nEach honeyed spot thou knowest well\\nWhere Nature s heart her sweetness yields,\\nSome ruined trunk thy citadel\\nThere buildest a home for Winter s hour\\nIn some lone, sunlight-haunted place,\\nWhen all the year is at its power,\\nAnd June s high-tide on bank and bower\\nMirrors in blossoms Nature s face.\\nAt early morn by breathing wood,\\nOr in some dewy clover dell,\\nTuning the young day s solitude,\\nOr down the slumbrous afternoon,\\nRich-freighted, wingest thy tuneful way,\\nSelf-musing, murmurous, musical\\n129", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "130 The Humming Bee\\nAmid the whole world s dreamy swoon,\\nSole voice of all the drowsed day,\\nUntil the gradual shadows fall\\nThen, by some lonely pasture-fell\\nAt ruddy eve when homeward come\\nPast deepening shade or fading ray\\nThe weary children of the day.\\nI hear thy joyous, drowsy hum,\\nTill stars peep out and woods breathe low,\\nAnd sounds of human toil grow dumb,\\nAnd Night, the blessed, comes apace,\\nBending to Earth s her cooling face,\\nWhile airs across the dark outblow:\\nThen rocked on some glad blossom s breast,\\nThou dreamest to rest.\\nWhen Summer wanes to Autumn s age,\\nAnd come the days of fate and rage,\\nO happy Humming Bee\\nThen wilt thou sink to wintry sleep,\\nWhen storms are hoarse along the deep,\\nIn hushed tranquillity.\\nNo more wilt wind thy subtle horn\\nBy dreamy eve or misty morn,\\nWhen trees are leafless, pastures shorn.\\nAh me ah me\\nCould we, like thee, go down the days", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "The Humming Bee 131\\nOf summer hush to autumn haze.\\nHousing, with what we built before,\\nThe gold of all our memory s store\\nAnd garnered thought\\nSo when the bleak December s hate\\nBeat round the bastions of our fate,\\nWe, wrapt in wealth of honeyed dreams\\nOf kindlier visions, far-off streams,\\nMight heed it not.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "The Children of the Foam\\n/^\\\\UT forever and forever,\\n^S Where our tresses glint and shiver\\nOn the icy moonlit air;\\nCome we from a land of gloaming,\\nChildren lost, forever homing,\\nNever, never reaching there;\\nRide we, ride we, ever faster,\\nDriven by our demon master,\\nThe wild wind in his despair;\\nRide we, ride we, ever home,\\nWan, white children of the foam.\\nIn the wild October dawning,\\nWhen the heaven s angry awning\\nLeans to lakeward, bleak and drear;\\nAnd along the black, wet ledges,\\nUnder icy, caverned edges,\\nBreaks the lake in maddened fear;\\nAnd the woods in shore are moaning\\nThen you hear our weird intoning,\\nMad, late children of the year\\n132", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "The Children of the Foam 133\\nRide we, ride we, ever home,\\nLost, white children of the foam.\\nAll gray day, the black sky under,\\nWhere the beaches moan and thunder,\\nWhere the breakers spume and comb,\\nYou may hear our riding, riding,\\nYou may hear our voices chiding,\\nUnder glimmer, under gloam\\nLike a far-off infant wailing,\\nYou may hear our hailing, hailing,\\nFor the voices of our home;\\nRide we, ride we, ever home,\\nHaunted children of the foam.\\nAnd at midnight, when the glimmer\\nOf the moon grows dank and dimmer,\\nThen we lift our gleaming eyes\\nThen you see our white arms tossing,\\nOur wan breasts the moon embossing,\\nUnder gloom of lake and skies\\nYou may hear our mournful chanting,\\nAnd our voices haunting, haunting,\\nThrough the night s mad melodies\\nRiding, riding, ever home,\\nWild, white children of the foam.\\nH", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "134 The Children of the Foam\\nThere, forever and forever,\\nWill no demon-hate dissever\\nPeace and sleep and rest and dream;\\nThere is neither fear nor fret there\\nWhen the tired children get there,\\nOnly dews and pallid beam\\nFall in gentle peace and sadness\\nOver long surcease of madness,\\nFrom hushed skies that gleam and gleam\\nIn the longed-for, sought-for home\\nOf the children of the foam.\\nThere the streets are hushed and restful,\\nAnd of dreams is every breast full,\\nWith the sleep that tired eyes wear\\nThere the city hath long quiet\\nFrom the madness and the riot,\\nFrom the failing hearts of care\\nBalm of peacefulness ingliding,\\nDream we through our riding, riding,\\nAs we homeward, homeward fare;\\nRiding, riding, ever home,\\nWild, white children of the foam.\\nUnder pallid moonlight beaming,\\nUnder stars of midnight gleaming,\\nAnd the ebon arch of night;", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "The Children of the Foam 135\\nRound the rosy edge of morning,\\nYou may hear our distant horning,\\nYou may mark our phantom flight\\nRiding, riding, ever faster,\\nDriven by our demon master,\\nUnder darkness, under light\\nRide we, ride we, ever home,\\nWild, white children of the foam.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "How One Winter Came\\nIN THE LAKE REGION\\nFOR weeks and weeks the autumn world stood\\nstill,\\nClothed in the shadow of a smoky haze\\nThe fields were dead, the wind had lost its will,\\nAnd all the lands were hushed by wood and hill,\\nIn those gray, withered days.\\nBehind a mist the blear sun rose and set,\\nAt night the moon would nestle in a cloud\\nThe fisherman, a ghost, did cast his net\\nThe lake its shores forgot to chafe and fret,\\nAnd hushed its caverns loud.\\nFar in the smoky woods the birds were mute,\\nSave that from blackened tree a jay would\\nscream,\\nOr far in swamps the lizard s lonesome lute\\nWould pipe in thirst, or by some gnarled root\\nThe tree-toad trilled his dream.\\n136", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "How One Winter Came 137\\nFrom day to day still hushed the season s mood,\\nThe streams stayed in their runnels shrunk and\\ndry;\\nSuns rose aghast by wave and shore and wood,\\nAnd all the world, with ominous silence, stood\\nIn weird expectancy\\nWhen one strange night the sun like blood went\\ndown,\\nFlooding the heavens in a ruddy hue\\nRed grew the lake, the sere fields parched and\\nbrown,\\nRed grew the marshes where the creeks stole down,\\nBut never a wind-breath blew.\\nThat night I felt the winter in my veins,\\nA joyous tremor of the icy glow;\\nAnd woke to hear the north s wild vibrant strains,\\nWhile far and wide, by withered woods and plains,\\nFast fell the driving snow.", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "ELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED\\nBY H. O. HOUGHTON AND CO.\\nCAMBRIDGE, MASS., U. S. A.", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "NOV 28 1899", "height": "3518", "width": "2222", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3508", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3638", "width": "2331", "jp2-path": "beyondhillsofdre01camp_0156.jp2"}}