{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3815", "width": "2500", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "FIVE BOOKS OF SONG", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "THE NEW DAY\\nII. THE CELESTIAL PASSION\\nIII. LYRICS\\nIV. TWO WORLDS\\nV. THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nBY\\nRICHARD WATSON GILDER\\nFOURTH EDITION\\nNEW YORK\\nTHE CENTURY CO.\\n1900", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "fS Y\\\\^\\n(Jfflco \u00c2\u00bbf (I,\\nMAY 2 6 1900\\n\u00c2\u00ab\u00c2\u00ab\u00c2\u00abltt.r of C py,| rtt%\\n*3. /22^f\\n59063\\nCopyright, 1875, 1878, 1880, 1885,\\n1887, 1891, 1893, 1894, 1900.\\nBy Richard Watson Gilder.\\nAll rights reserved.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nTHE NEW DAY\\nPAGE\\nPRELUDE 3\\nPART I\\nI. Sonnet. (After the Italian) 4\\nII. Sonnet. (After the Italian) 4\\nIII, A Barren Stretch that slants to the\\nSalt Sea s Gray 5\\nIV. Love grown Bold 5\\nINTERLUDE 6\\nPART II\\nI. Words without Song 6\\nII. The Traveler 7\\nIII. Written on a Fly-leaf of Shakespeare s\\nSonnets 8\\nIV. And were that Best 8\\nV. There is Nothing New under the Sun 9\\nVI. Love s Cruelty 10\\nINTERLUDE 10\\nV", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "VI CONTENTS\\nPART III\\nPAGE\\nI. My Love for Thee doth march like Armed\\nMen ii\\nII. I will be Brave for Thee 12\\nIII. Love me not, Love, for that I first loved\\nThee 12\\nIV. Body and Soul\\nI. O Thou my Love, love first my lonely soul 13\\nII. But, Love, for me thy body was the first 13\\nV. Thy Lover, Love, would have some Nobler\\nWay 14\\nVI. Love s Jealousy 14\\nVII. Love s Monotone 15\\nVIII. Once Only 15\\nIX. Denial 16\\nX. Once when We walked within a Summer\\nField 16\\nXL Song: I love her gentle forehead 17\\nXII. Listening to Music 17\\nXIII. A Song of the Maiden Morn 18\\nXIV. Words in Absence 18\\nXV. Song The birds were singing 19\\nXVI. Thistle-Down 19\\nXVII. O Sweet Wild Roses that Bud and Blow 19\\nXVIII. The River 20\\nXIX. The Lover s Lord and Master .21\\nXX. A Night of Stars and Dreams 21\\nXXI. A Birthday Song 22\\nXXII. What can Love do for Thee, Love? 22\\nXXIII. The Smile of Her I Love 23\\nXXIV. Francesca and Paolo 23\\nXXV. The Unknown Way 24\\nXXVI. The Sower 25\\nXXVII. When the Last Doubt is Doubted 26\\nINTERLUDE 27", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS VU\\nPART IV\\nPAGE\\nI. Song Love, Love, my love 27\\nII. The Mirror 28\\nIII. Likeness in Unlikeness ,.28\\nIV. Song: Not from the whole wide world 29\\nV. All in One .29\\nVI. I Count my Time by Times that I meet\\nThee 29\\nVII. Song: Years have flown 30\\nVIII. The Seasons 30\\nIX. Summer s Rain and Winter s Snow .31\\nX. The Violin 31\\nXL O Silver River flowing to the Sea 32\\nXII. My Songs are all of Thee 33\\nXIII. After Many Days 33\\nXIV. Weal and Woe 34\\nXV. Oh, Love is not a Summer Mood 34\\nXVI. Love is not Bond to any Man 35\\nXVII. He Knows not the Path of Duty 35\\nAFTER-SONG 36\\nTHE CELESTIAL PASSION\\nPRELUDE 39\\nPART I\\nI. Art and Life 39\\nII. The Poet and his Master 41\\nIII. Mors Triumphalis 43\\nIV. The Master-Poets 47", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "Vlll CONTENTS\\nPART II\\nPAGE\\nI. A Christmas Hymn 48\\nII. Easter 49\\nIII. A Madonna of Fra Lippo Lippi 50\\nIV. Cost 51\\nV. The Song op a Heathen (Sojourning in\\nGalilee, a. d. 32) .51\\nVI. Holy Land 52\\nVII. On a Portrait of Servetus .52\\nVIII. Despise not Thou 53\\nIX. To Rest from Weary Work .53\\nPART III\\nI. Recognition 54\\nII. Hymn Sung at the Presentation of the\\nObelisk to the city of New York, Feb-\\nruary 22, 1881 56\\nIII. A Thought 57\\nIV. The Voice of the Pine 58\\nV. Morning and Night 59\\nVI. Day unto Day uttereth Speech .60\\nPART IV\\nI. The Soul 60\\nII. When Love Dawned 61\\nIII. Love and Death\\nI. Now who can take from us what we have\\nknown? 61\\nII. We know not where they tarry who have died 62\\nIV. Father and Child 62\\nV. Beyond the Branches of the Pine 63\\nVI. An Autumn Meditation 64\\nVII. Call me not Dead .65\\nVIII. Each Moment Holy is 66", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS ix\\nPAGE\\nIX. When to Sleep I Must 66\\nX. To a Departed Friend (J. G. H.) 66\\nXI. The Evening Star 67\\nXII. Life\\nI. Great Universe what dost thou with thy\\ndead 67\\nII. Ah, thou wilt never answer to our call 68\\nXIII. The Freed Spirit 68\\nXIV. Undying Light\\nI. When in the golden western summer skies 69\\nII. thou the Lord and Maker of life and light 69\\nLYRICS\\nPART I\\nOde o 73\\nA Song of Early Summer 75\\nA Midsummer Song 76\\nOn the Wild Rose Tree 78\\nA Song of Early Autumn 78\\nThe Building of the Chimney 79\\nA Word Said in the Dark 85\\nA Riddle of Lovers 85\\nBefore Sunrise 86\\nThe Woods that Bring the Sunset Near .86\\nSunset from the Train 87\\nAfter Sorrow s Night 88\\nA November Child .88\\nAt Night 89\\nCradle Song 89\\nNine Years =90\\nBack from the Darkness to the Light Again 91\\nPART II\\nFate 91\\nWe Met upon the Crowded Way 92", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "x CONTENTS\\nPAGE\\nThe White and the Red Rose 93\\nA Woman s Thought 95\\nThe River Inn 96\\nThe Homestead 97\\nAt Four- Score 98\\nJohn Carman 100\\nDrinking Song 103\\nThe Voyager 104\\nA Lament for the dead of the Jeannette brought\\nHOME ON THE FrISLA. I05\\nIII Tidings (The Studio Concert) .108\\nA New World 109\\nPART III\\nCongress: 1878 109\\nReform .110\\nMemorial Day in\\nThe North to the South 112\\nThe Burial of Grant. (New York, August 8, 1885). 112\\nThe Dead Comrade. (At the burial of Grant, a bugler\\nstood forth and sounded taps 114\\nOn the Life-Mask of Abraham Lincoln 115\\nThe President 115\\nPART IV\\nEssipoff .116\\nAdele aus der Ohe .117\\nModjeska 118\\nFor an Album. (To be read one hundred years after) 118\\nPorto Fino 119\\nTo F. F. C. (On the pansy, her class flower) .121\\nImpromptus\\nI. Art .121\\nII. To a Southern Girl 121\\nIII. For a Fan 122", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS XI\\nPART V\\nPAGE\\nMusic and Words 122\\nThe Poet s Fame 123\\nThe Poet s Protest .126\\nTo a Young Poet 127\\nWhen the True Poet Comes .127\\nYouth and Age 128\\nThe Sonnet 128\\nA Sonnet of Dante B 129\\nTanto gentile e tan to onesta pare.\\nThe New Troubadours (Avignon, 1879) .129\\nKeats 130\\nAn Inscription in Rome (Piazza di Spagna) -130\\nDesecration ,131\\nJocoseria 132\\nTo an English Friend, with Emerson s Poems 133\\nOur Elder Poets (1878) 133\\nLongfellow s Book of Sonnets 134\\n\u00c2\u00abH. H. 135\\nThe Modern Rhymer 135\\nTWO WORLDS AND OTHER POEMS\\nPART I\\nTwo Worlds\\nI. The Venus of Milo 141\\nII. Michael Angelo s Slave 141\\nPART II\\nThe Star in the City 141\\nMoonlight 142\\nI Care not if the Skies are White 144", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "XU CONTENTS\\nPAGE\\nContrasts 144\\nSerenade (For Music) 145\\nLargess 146\\nIndoors at Night 146\\nThe Absent Lover 146\\nTo-night the Music doth a Burden Bear 147\\nSanctum Sanctorum 147\\nThe Gift 148\\nAh, Time, go not so soon 150\\nThe Years are Angels 150\\nIn her Young Eyes 150\\nYesterday, when we were Friends 150\\nA Night Song (For the Guitar) .151\\nLeo 151\\nPART III\\nBrothers 153\\nLove, Art, and Time. (On a picture entitled The Por-\\ntrait, by Will H. Low) 153\\nThe Dancers. (On a picture entitled Summer, by T.\\nW. Dewing) 154\\nThe Twenty-Third of April 154\\nEmma Lazarus 155\\nThe Twelfth of December (Robert Browning) .155\\nPART IV\\nSheridan 156\\nSherman 157\\nPro Patria. (In memory of a faithful chaplain the Rev.\\nWilliam Henry Gilder) 159\\nTo the Spirit of Abraham Lincoln. (Reunion at\\nGettysburg twenty-five years after the battle) 162\\nFailure and Success 162\\nJ. R. L. on his Birthday 163\\nNapoleon 163\\nThe White Tsar s People 163", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS xill\\nPART V\\nPAGE\\nHide not Thy Heart 166\\nThe Poet from his own Sorrow .167\\nWhite, Pillared Neck 167\\nGreat Nature is an Army Gay .168\\nLife is the Cost 169\\nThe Prisoner s Thought 169\\nThe Condemned 171\\nSow Thou Sorrow 172\\nTemptation 172\\nA Midsummer Meditation .172\\nAs Doth the Bird 173\\nVisions 173\\nWith a Cross of Immortelles .175\\nThe Passing of Christ 175\\nCredo 178\\nNon Sine Dolore 179\\nPART VI\\nOde. (Read before the Society of the Phi Beta Kappa,\\nHarvard University, June 26, 1890) 183\\nAFTER-SONG (To Rosamond) 188\\nTHE GREAT REMEMBRANCE\\nPART I\\nThe Great Remembrance. (Read at the annual reunion\\nof the Society of the Army of the Potomac, Faneuil Hall,\\nBoston, June 27, 1893) 191\\nPART II\\nThe White City 199\\nThe Vanishing City 200", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "XIV CONTENTS\\nFAGET\\nThe Tower of Flame. (The Columbian Exposition, July\\nio, 1893) 203;\\nLowell 203\\nThe Silence of Tennyson 205.\\nOn the Death of a Great Man (Phillips Brooks) 205\\nA Hero of Peace. (In memory of Robert Ross: shot\\nMarch 6, 1894) 206\\nWashington at Trenton. (The Battle Monument,\\nOctober 19, 1893) 207\\nFame 208\\nA Monument by St. Gaudens 208\\nA Memory of Rubinstein 208\\nHow Paderewski Plays 209\\nHandel s Largo 210\\nThe Stairway 211\\nThe Actor .211\\nThe Stricken Player (Edwin Booth) .211\\nAn Autumn Dirge (E. F. H.) 212\\nEleonora Duse 214\\nKelp Rock (E. C. S\u00c2\u00bb) 214\\nCharleston, 1886 .215\\nAt Niagara 215\\nThe Child-Garden 216\\nThe Christ-Child. (A picture by Frank Vincent Du\\nMond) 217\\nA Child 218\\nTwo Valleys 219\\nOn the Bay 219\\nWashington Square 220\\nThe City 220\\nA Rhyme of Tyringham (In the Berkshire Mountains) 221\\nElsie 222\\nIndirection 224\\nAh, be not False 224\\nThe Answer 225\\nHow Death May Make a Man 225\\nCame to a Master of Song 227\\nBards 228\\nMeridian 229\\nEvening in Tyringham Valley 230", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nXV\\nPART III\\nPAGE\\nA Week s Calendar:\\nI. New Year 231\\nII. A New Soul 231\\nIII. Keep Pure Thy Soul 231\\nIV. Thy Mind is Like a Crystal Brook 232\\nV. One Deed May Mar a Life 232\\nVL The Unknown 233\\nVII. Irrevocable 233\\nPART IV\\nSongs\\nBecause the Rose Must Fade\\nFades the Rose\\nThe Wintry Heart\\nHast Thou Heard the Nightingale?\\nIn That Dread, Dreamed-of Hour\\nRose-Dark the Solemn Sunset\\nWinds to the Silent Morn\\nThe Unreturning\\nTwo Years\\n234\\n235\\n236\\n236\\n237\\n238\\n238\\n239\\n240\\nDecorations by H. de K\u00c2\u00bb", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "THE NEW DAY\\nA POEM IN SONGS AND SONNETS", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "THE NEW DAY\\nPRELUDE\\nTHE night was dark, though sometimes a faint star\\nA little while a little space made bright.\\nDark was the night and like an iron bar\\nLay heavy on the land till o er the sea\\nSlowly, within the East, there grew a light\\nWhich half was starlight, and half seemed to be\\nThe herald of a greater. The pale white\\nTurned slowly to pale rose, and up the height\\nOf heaven slowly climbed. The gray sea grew\\nRose-colored like the sky. A white gull flew\\nStraight toward the utmost boundary of the East\\nWhere slowly the rose gathered and increased.\\nThere was light now, where all was black before.\\nIt was as on the opening of a door\\nBy one who in. his hand a lamp doth hold,\\n(Its flame being hidden by the garment s fold)\\nThe still air moves, the wide room is less dim.\\nMore bright the East became, the ocean turned\\nDark and more dark against the brightening sky\\nSharper against the sky the long sea line.\\nThe hollows of the breakers on the shore\\nWere green like leaves whereon no sun doth shine,\\nThough sunlight make the outer branches hoar.\\nFrom rose to red the level heaven burned\\nThen sudden, as if a sword fell from on high,\\nA blade of gold flashed on the ocean s rim.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nPART I\\nI\\nI SONNET\\n(AFTER THE ITALIAN)\\nKNOW not if I love her overmuch\\nBut this I know, that when unto her face\\nShe lifts her hand, which rests there, still, a space\\nThen slowly falls t is I who feel that touch.\\nAnd when she sudden shakes her head, with such\\nA look, I soon her secret meaning trace.\\nSo when she runs I think t is I who race.\\nLike a poor cripple who has lost his crutch\\nI am if she is gone and when she goes,\\nI know not why, for that is a strange art\\nAs if myself should from myself depart.\\nI know not if I love her more than those\\nWho long her light have known; but for the rose\\nShe covers in her hair, I d give my heart.\\nII SONNET\\n(AFTER THE ITALIAN)\\nI like her gentle hand that sometimes strays,\\nTo find the place, through the same book with mine;\\nI like her feet and oh, those eyes divine\\nAnd when we say farewell, perhaps she stays\\nLove-lingering then hurries on her ways,\\nAs if she thought, To end my pain and thine.\\nI like her voice better than new-made wine\\nI like the mandolin whereon she plays.\\nAnd I like, too, the cloak I saw her wear,\\nAnd the red scarf that her white neck doth cover,\\nAnd well I like the door that she comes through", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "LOVE GROWN BOLD\\nI like the riband that doth bind her hair\\nBut then, in truth, I am that lady s lover,\\nAnd every new day there is something new.\\nIll A BARREN STRETCH THAT SLANTS\\nTO THE SALT SEA S GRAY\\nA barren stretch that slants to the salt sea s gray,\\nRock-strewn, and scarred by fire, and rough with\\nstubble,\\nWith here and there a bold, bright touch of color\\nBerries and yellow leaves, that make the dolor\\nMore dolorous still. Above, a sky of trouble.\\nBut now a light is lifted in the air\\nAnd though the sky is shadowed, fold on fold,\\nBy clouds that have the lightnings in their hold,\\nThat western gleam makes all the dim earth fair\\nThe sun shines forth and the gray sea is gold.\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 LOVE GROWN BOLD\\nThis is her picture painted ere mine eyes\\nHer ever holy face had looked upon.\\nShe sitteth in a silence of her own;\\nBehind her, on the ground, a red rose lies\\nHer thinking brow is bent, nor doth arise\\nHer gaze from that shut book whose word unknown\\nHer firm hands hide from her there all alone\\nShe sitteth in thought-trouble, maidenwise.\\nAnd now her lover waiting wondereth\\nWhether the joy of joys is drawing near;\\nShall his brave fingers like a tender breath", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nThat shut book open for her, wide and clear\\nFrom him who her sweet shadow worshipeth\\nNow will she take the rose, and hold it dear\\nINTERLUDE\\nTHE sun rose swift and sent a golden gleam\\nAcross the moving waters to the land\\nThen for a little while it seemed to stand\\nIn a clear place, midway twixt sea and cloud\\nWhence rising swift again it passed behind\\nFull many a long and narrow cloud-wrought beam\\nEncased in gold unearthly, that was mined\\nFrom out the hollow caverns of the wind.\\nThese first revealed its face and next did shroud,\\nWhile still the daylight grew, and joy thereby\\nLit all the windy stretches of the sky\\nUntil a shadow darkened from the east\\nAnd sprang upon the ocean like a beast.\\nPART II\\ni\\nTHERE was a field green and fragrant with grass\\nand flowers, and flooded with sunlight, and the air\\nabove it throbbed with the songs of birds. It was yet\\nmorning when a sudden darkness spread over the earth,\\nand out of the darkness lightning, and after the light-\\nning fire that consumed every green thing; and the\\nsinging birds fell dying upon the blackened grass. The", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELER\\nthunder and the flame passed, but it was still dark\\ntill a ray of light touched the field s edge and grew, lit-\\ntle by little. Then one who listened heard not the\\nsongs of birds again, but the flutter of broken wings.\\nII THE TRAVELER\\nI met a traveler on the road\\nWhose back was bent beneath a load\\nHis face was worn with mortal care,\\nHis frame beneath its burden shook,\\nYet onward, restless, he did fare\\nWith mien unyielding, fixed, a look\\nSet forward in the empty air\\nAs if he read an unseen book.\\nWhat was it in his smile that stirred\\nMy soul to pity When I drew\\nMore near it seemed as if I heard\\nThe broken echo of a tune\\nLearned in some far and happy June.\\nHis lips were parted, but unmoved\\nBy words. He sang as dreamers do,\\nAnd not as if he heard and loved\\nThe song he sang I hear it now\\nHe stood beside the level brook,\\nNor quenched his thirst, nor bathed his brow,\\nNor from his back the burden shook.\\nHe stood, and yet he did not rest\\nHis eyes climbed up in aimless quest,\\nThen close did to that mirror bow\\nAnd, looking down, I saw in place\\nOf his, my own familiar face.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "8 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nHI_WRITTEN ON A FLY-LEAF OF\\nSHAKESPEARE S SONNETS\\nWhen shall true love be love without alloy\\nShine free at last from sinful circumstance\\nWhen shall the canker of unheavenly chance\\nEat not the bud of that most heavenly joy\\nWhen shall true love meet love not as a coy\\nRetreating light that leads a deathful dance,\\nBut as a firm fixed fire that doth enhance\\nThe beauty of all beauty Will the employ\\nOf poets ever be too well to show\\nThat mightiest love with sharpest pain doth writhe\\nThat underneath the fair, caressing glove\\nHides evermore the iron hand and though\\nLove s flower alone is good, if we would prove\\nIts perfect bloom, our breath slays like a scythe\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 AND WERE THAT BEST!\\nAnd were that best, Love, dreamless, endless sleep\\nGone all the fury of the mortal day\\nThe daylight gone, and gone the starry ray\\nAnd were that best, Love, rest serene and deep\\nGone labor and desire no arduous steep\\nTo climb, no songs to sing, no prayers to pray,\\nNo help for those who perish by the way,\\nNo laughter midst our tears, no tears to weep\\nAnd were that best, Love, sleep with no dear dream,\\nNor memory of anything in life\\nStark death that neither help nor hurt can know", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "THERE IS NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN\\nOh, rather, far, the sorrow-bringing gleam,\\nThe living day s long agony and strife\\nRather strong love in pain; the waking woe\\nV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THERE IS NOTHING NEW\\nUNDER THE SUN\\nThere is nothing new under the sun\\nThere is no new hope or despair\\nThe agony just begun\\nIs as old as the earth and the air.\\nMy secret soul of bliss\\nIs one with the singing stars,\\nAnd the ancient mountains miss\\nNo hurt that my being mars.\\nI know as I know my life,\\nI know as I know my pain,\\nThat there is no lonely strife,\\nThat he is mad who would gain\\nA separate balm for his woe,\\nA single pity and cover;\\nThe one great God I know\\nHears the same prayer over and over.\\nI know it because at the portal\\nOf Heaven I bowed and cried,\\nAnd I said Was ever a mortal\\nThus crowned and crucified\\nMy praise thou hast made my blame\\nMy best thou hast made my worst\\nMy good thou hast turned to shame\\nMy drink is a flaming thirst.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "io FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nBut scarce my prayer was said\\nEre from that place I turned;\\nI trembled, I hung my head,\\nMy cheek, shame-smitten, burned\\nFor there where I bowed down\\nIn my boastful agony,\\nI thought of thy cross and crown\\nO Christ I remembered thee.\\nVI LOVE S CRUELTY\\nAnd this, then, is thy love, I hear thee say,\\nAnd dost thou love, and canst thou torture so\\nAh, spare me, if thou lov st me, this last woe\\nBut I am not my own I must obey\\nMy master I am slave to Love his sway\\nIs cruel as the grave. When he says Go\\nI go when he says Come I come. I know\\nNo law but his. When he says Slay I slay.\\nAs cruel as the grave? Yes crueler.\\nCruel as light that pours its stinging flood\\nAcross the dark, and makes an anguished stir\\nOf life. Cruel as life that sends through blood\\nOf mortal the immortal pang and spur.\\nCruel as thy remorseless maidenhood.\\nINTERLUDE\\nTHE cloud was thick that hid the sun from sight\\nAnd over all a shadowy roof outspread,\\nMaking the day dim with another night\\nNot dark like that which passed, but oh more dread", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "MY LOVE FOR THEE II\\nFor the clear sunlight that had gone before\\nAnd prophecy of that which yet should be.\\nLike snow at night the wind-blown hills of sand\\nShone with an inward gleam far down the land\\nBeneath the lowering sky black was the sea\\nAcross whose waves a bird came flying low,\\nBorne swift on the wind with wing-beat halt and slow,\\nFrom out the dull east toward the foamy shore.\\nThere was an awful waiting in the earth\\nAs if a mystery greatened to its birth.\\nThough late it seemed, the day was just begun\\nWhen lo at last, the many-colored bow\\nStood in the heavens over against the sun.\\nPART III\\nI_\u00c2\u00abMY LOVE FOR THEE DOTH MARCH\\nLIKE ARMED MEN\\nMY love for thee doth march like armed men,\\nAgainst a queenly city they would take.\\nAlong the army s front its banners shake\\nAcross the mountain and the sun-smit plain\\nIt steadfast sweeps as sweeps the steadfast rain\\nAnd now the trumpet makes the still air quake,\\nAnd now the thundering cannon doth awake\\nEcho on echo, echoing loud again.\\nBut, lo the conquest higher than bard e er sung\\nInstead of answering cannon, proud surrender\\nJoyful the iron gates are open flung\\nAnd, for the conqueror, welcome gay and tender i\\nOh, bright the invader s path with tribute flowers,\\nWhile comrade flags flame forth on wall and towers", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "12 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII- I WILL BE BRAVE FOR THEE\\nI will be brave for thee, dear heart for thee\\nMy boasted bravery forego. I will\\nFor thee be wise, or lose my little skill\\nCoward or brave wise, foolish bond or free.\\nNo grievous cost in anything I see\\nThat brings thee bliss, or only keeps thee, still,\\nIn painless peace. So heaven thy cup but fill,\\nBe empty mine unto eternity\\nCome to me, Love, and let me touch thy face\\nLean to me, Love; breathe on me thy dear breath\\nFly from me, Love, to some far hiding-place,\\nIf thy one thought of me or hindereth\\nOr hurteth thy sweet soul then grant me grace\\nTo be forgotten, though that grace be death\\nIII_\u00c2\u00abLOVE ME NOT, LOVE, FOR THAT I\\nFIRST LOVED THEE\\nLove me not, Love, for that I first loved thee\\nNor love me, Love, for thy sweet pity s sake,\\nIn knowledge of the mortal pain and ache\\nWhich is the fruit of love s blood-veined tree.\\nLet others for my love give love to me\\nFrom other souls, oh, gladly will I take,\\nThis burning, heart-dry thirst of love to slake,\\nWhat seas of human pity there may be\\nNay, nay, I care no more how love may grow,\\nSo that I hear thee answer to my call\\nLove me because my piteous tears do flow,\\nOr that my love for thee did first befall.\\nLove me or late or early, fast or slow\\nBut love me, Love, for love is all in all", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "BODY AND SOUL 13\\nIV BODY AND SOUL\\nO thou my Love, love first my lonely soul\\nThen shall this too unworthy body of mine\\nBe loved by right and accident divine.\\nForget the flesh, that the pure spirit s goal\\nMay be the spirit let that stand the whole\\nOf what thou lov st in me. So will the shine\\nOf soul that strikes on soul make fair and fine\\nThis earthy tenement. Thou shalt extol\\nThe inner, that the outer lovelier seem.\\nRemember well that thy true love doth fear\\nNo deadlier foe than the impassioned dream\\nShould drive thee to him, and should hold thee near-\\nNear to the body, not the soul of him.\\nLove first my soul and then both will be dear.\\nBut, Love, for me thy body was the first.\\nOne day I wandered idly through the town,\\nThen entered a cathedral s silence brown\\nWhich sudden thrilled with a strange heavenly burst\\nOf light and music. Lo that traveler durst\\nDo nothing now but worship and fall down.\\nHe thought to rest, as*doth some tired clown\\nWho sinks in longed-for sleep, but there immersed\\nFinds restless vision on vision of beauty rare.\\nMoved by thy body s outer majesty\\nI entered in thy silent, sacred shrine\\nT was then, all suddenly and unaware,\\nThou didst reveal, O maiden Love to me,\\nThis beautiful, singing, holy soul of thine.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "14 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nV THY LOVER, LOVE, WOULD HAVE\\nSOME NOBLER WAY\\nThy lover, Love, would have some nobler way\\nTo tell his love, his noble love to tell,\\nThan rhymes set ringing like a silver bell.\\nOh, he would lead an army, great and gay,\\nFrom conquering to conquer, day by day\\nAnd when the walls of a proud citadel\\nAt summons of his guns far-echoing fell,\\nThat thunder to his Love should murmuring say\\nThee only do I love, dear Love of mine\\nAnd while men cried Behold how brave a fight\\nShe should read well, oh well each new emprise\\nThis to her lips, this to my lady s eyes\\nAnd though the world were conquered, line on line,\\nStill would his love be speechless, day and night.\\nVI LOVE S JEALOUSY\\nOf other men I know no jealousy,\\nNor of the maid who holds thee close, oh close\\nBut of the June-red, summer-scented rose,\\nAnd of the barred and golden sunset sky\\nThat wins the soul of thee through thy deep eye\\nAnd of the breeze by thee beloved, that goes\\nO er thy dear hair and brow the song that flows\\nInto thy heart of hearts, where it may die.\\nI would I were one moment that sweet show\\nOf flower or breeze beloved that toucheth all\\nOr sky that through the summer eve doth burn.\\nI would I were the song thou lovest so,\\nAt sound of me to have thine eyelid fall\\nBut I would then to something human turn.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "ONCE ONLY 15\\nVII LOVE S MONOTONE\\nThou art so used, Love, to thine own bird s song,-\\nSung to thine ear in love s low monotone,\\nSung to thee only, Love, to thee alone\\nOf all the listening world, that I among\\nMy doubts find this the leader of the throng\\nHaply the music hath accustomed grown\\nAnd no more music is to thee my own\\nToo faithful argument works its own wrong.\\nLove, Love, and must I learn for thy sweet sake\\nThe art of silence Ah, then hide the light\\nOf thy dear countenance, lest the music wake\\nYet should thy bird at last fall silent quite,\\nWould not thy heart an unused sorrow take\\nThink not of me but of thyself to-night.\\nVIII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 ONCE ONLY\\nOnce only, Love, may love s sweet song be sung\\nBut once, Love, at our feet love s flower is flung\\nOnce, Love, once only, Love, can we be young\\nSay shall we love, dear Love, or shall we hate\\nOnce only, Love, will burn the blood-red fire\\nBut once awakeneth the wild desire\\nLove pleadeth long, but what if Love should tire\\nNow shall we love, dear Love, or shall we wait\\nThe day is short, the evening cometh fast\\nThe time of choosing, Love, will soon be past\\nThe outer darkness falleth, Love, at last\\nLove, let us love ere it be late, too late", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "16 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 DENIAL\\nWhen some new thought of love in me is born\\nThen swift I seek a token fair and meet\\nThat may unblamed thy blessed vision greet\\nWhether it be a rose, not bloodless torn\\nFrom that June tree which hideth many a thorn,\\nOr but a simple, loving message, sweet\\nWith summer s heart and mine, these at thy feet\\nI straightway fling; but all with maiden scorn\\nThou spurnest. What to thee is token or sign,\\nWho dost deny the thing wherefor it stands\\nThen I seem foolish in my sight and thine,\\nLike one who eager proffers empty hands.\\nThou only callest these my gifts unfine,\\nWhile men are praising them in distant lands.\\nX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 ONCE WHEN WE WALKED WITHIN\\nA SUMMER FIELD\\nOnce when we walked within a summer field\\nI plucked the flower of immortality,\\nAnd said, Dear Love of mine, I give to thee\\nThis flower of flowers of all the round year s yield!\\nT was then thou stood st, and with one hand didst\\nshield\\nThy sun-dazed eyes, and, flinging the other free,\\nSpurned from thee that white blossom utterly.\\nBut, Love the immortal cannot so be killed.\\nThe generations shall behold thee stand\\nAgainst that western glow in grass dew-wet\\nLord of my life, and lady of the land.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "LISTENING TO MUSIC 17\\nNor maid nor lover shall the world forget,\\nNor that disdainful wafture of thy hand.\\nThou scornful sun and flower shall find thee yet.\\nXI SONG\\nI love her gentle forehead,\\nAnd I love her tender hair\\nI love her cool, white arms,\\nAnd her neck where it is bare.\\nI love the smell of her garments\\nI love the touch of her hands\\nI love the sky above her,\\nAnd the very ground where she stands.\\nI love her doubting and anguish\\nI love the love she withholds;\\nI love my love that loveth her\\nAnd anew her being molds.\\nXII LISTENING TO MUSIC\\nWhen on that joyful sea\\nWhere billow on billow breaks where swift waves follow\\nWaves, and hollow calls to hollow\\nWhere sea-birds swirl and swing,\\nAnd winds through the rigging shrill and sing;\\nWhere night is one vast starless shade\\nWhere thy soul not afraid,\\nThough all alone unlonely,\\nWanders and wavers, wavers wandering;\\nOn that accurs6d sea", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "18 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nOne moment only,\\nForget one moment, Love, thy fierce content\\nBack let thy soul be bent,\\nThink back, dear Love, O Love, think back to me\\nXIII A SONG OF THE MAIDEN MORN\\nA song of the maiden morn,\\nA song for my little maid,\\nOf the silver sunlight born\\nBut I am afraid, afraid,\\nWhen I come my maid may be\\nNothing, there, but a shade.\\nBut oh, her shadow is more to me\\nThan the shadowless light of eternity\\nXIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 WORDS IN ABSENCE\\nI would that my words were as my fingers,\\nSo that my Love might feel them move\\nSlowly over her brow, as lingers\\nThe sunset wind o er the world of its love.\\nI would that my words were as the beating\\nOf her own heart, that keeps repeating\\nMy name through the livelong day and the night;\\nAnd when my Love her lover misses,\\nLongs for and loves in the dark and the light,\\nI would that my words were as my kisses.\\nI would that my words her life might fill,\\nBe to her earth, and air, and skies.\\nI would that my words were hushed and still\\nLost in the light of her eyes.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "O SWEET WILD ROSES, ETC. 19\\nXV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 SONG\\nThe birds were singing, the skies were gay\\nI looked from the window on meadow and wood,\\nOn green, green grass that the sun made white\\nBeyond the river the mountain stood\\nBlue was the mountain, the river was bright\\nI looked on the land and it was not good,\\nFor my own dear Love she had flown away.\\nXVI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THISTLE-DOWN\\nFly, thistle-down, fly\\nFrom my lips to the lips that I love!\\nFly through the morning light,\\nFlee through the shadowy night,\\nOver the sea and the land,\\nQuick as the lark\\nThrough twilight and dark,\\nThrough lightning and thunder\\nTill no longer asunder\\nWe stand\\nFor thy touch like the lips of her lover\\nMoves her being to mine\\nWe are one in a swoon divine\\nFly, thistle-down, fly\\nFrom my lips to the lips that I love\\nXVII O SWEET WILD ROSES THAT\\nBUD AND BLOW\\nO sweet wild roses that bud and blow\\nAlong the way that my Love may go", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "20 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nO moss-green rocks that touch her dress,\\nAnd grass that her dear feet may press\\nO maple-tree whose brooding shade\\nFor her a summer tent has made\\nO goldenrod and brave sunflower\\nThat flame before my maiden s bower\\nO butterfly on whose light wings\\nThe golden summer sunshine clings;\\nO birds that flit o er wheat and wall,\\nAnd from cool hollows pipe and call;\\nO falling water whose distant roar\\nSounds like the waves upon the shore;\\nO winds that down the valley sweep,\\nAnd lightnings from the clouds that leap\\nO skies that bend above the hills\\nO gentle rains and babbling rills;\\nO moon and sun that beam and burn\\nKeep safe my Love till I return\\nXVIII THE RIVER\\nI know thou art not that brown mountain-side,\\nNor the pale mist that lies along the hills\\nAnd with white joy the deepening valley-fills;\\nNor yet the solemn river moving wide\\nInto that valley, where the hills abide\\nBut whence those morning clouds on noiseless wheels\\nShall lingering lift and, as the moonlight steals\\nFrom out the heavens, so into the heavens shall glide.\\nI know thou art not this gray rock that looms\\nAbove the water, fringed with scarlet vine\\nNor flame of burning meadow; nor the sedge", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "A NIGHT OF STARS AND DREAMS 21\\nThat sways and trembles at the river s edge.\\nBut through all these, dear heart to me there comes\\nSome melancholy, absent look of thine.\\nXIX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE LOVER S LORD AND MASTER\\nI pray thee, dear, think not alone of me,\\nBut sometimes think of my great master, Love\\nHis faithful slave he is so far above\\nThat for his sake I would forgotten be\\nThough well I know that hidden thus from thee\\nNot far away my image then might rove,\\nAnd his sweet, heavenly countenance would move\\nEver thy soul to gentler charity.\\nSo when thy lover s self leaps from his song\\nThou him may love not less for his fair Lord.\\nBut that thy love for me grow never small\\n(As bow long bent twangs not the arrowed cord,\\nAnd he doth lose his star who looks too long),\\nSometimes, dear heart, think not of me at all.\\nXX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A NIGHT OF STARS AND DREAMS\\nA night of stars and dreams, of dreams and sleep\\nA waking into another empty day\\nBut not unlovely all, for then I say\\nTo-morrow Through the hours this light doth\\ncreep\\nHigher in the heavens, as down the heavenly steep\\nSinks the slow sun. Another evening gray,\\nMade glorious by the morn that comes that way\\nAnother night, and then To-day doth leap", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "22 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nUpon the world Oh quick the hours do fly,\\nOf that new day which brings the moment when\\nWe meet at last Swift up the shaking sky\\nRushes the sun from out its dismal den\\nAnd then the wished for time doth yearn more nigh\\nA white robe glimmering in the dark and then!\\nXXI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A BIRTHDAY SONG\\nI thought this day to bring to thee\\nA flower that grows on the red rose tree.\\nI searched the branches, oh, despair!\\nOf roses every branch was bare.\\nI thought to sing thee a birthday song\\nAs wild as my love, as deep and strong.\\nThe song took wing like a frightened bird,\\nAnd its music my maiden never heard.\\nBut, Love the flower and the song divine\\nOne day of the year will yet be thine\\nAnd thou shalt be glad when the rose I bring,\\nAnd weep for joy at the song I sing.\\nXXII WHAT CAN LOVE DO FOR THEE\\nLOVE?\\nWhat can love do for thee, Love\\nCan it make the green fields greener\\nBluer the skies, and bluer\\nThe eyes of the blue-eyed flowers\\nCan it make the May-day showers\\nMore warm and sweet; serener\\nThe heavens after the rain", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "FRANCESCA AND PAOLO 23\\nThe sunset s radiant splendor\\nMore exquisite and tender\\nThe Northern Star more sure\\nCan it take the pang from pain\\n(O Love! remember the curtain\\nOf cloud that lifted last night\\nAnd showed the silver light\\nOf a star Can it make more certain\\nThe heart of the heart of all,\\nThe good that works at the root\\nThe singing soul of love\\nThat throbs in flower and fruit,\\nIn man and earth and brute,\\nIn hell, and heaven above\\nCan its low voice musical\\nMake dear the day and the night\\nXXIII THE SMILE OF HER I LOVE\\nThe smile of her I love is like the dawn\\nWhose touch makes Memnon sing.\\nO see where wide the golden sunlight flows\\nThe barren desert blossoms as the rose\\nThe smile of her I love when that is gone,\\nO er all the world night spreads her shadowy wing.\\nXXIV FRANCESCA AND PAOLO\\nWithin the second dolorous circle where\\nThe lost are whirled, lamenting thou and I\\nStood, Love, to-day with Dante. Silently\\nWe looked upon the black and trembling air;", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "24 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWhen lo from out that darkness of despair\\nTwo shadows light upon the wind drew nigh,\\nWhose very motion seemed to breathe a sigh\\nAnd there Francesca, and her lover there.\\nThese when we saw, the wounds whereat they bled,\\nTheir love which was not with their bodies slain\\nThese when we saw, great were the tears we shed;\\nAs, Love, for thee and me love s tears shall rain\\nThe mortal agony the nameless dread\\nThe longing, and the passion, and the pain.\\nXXV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE UNKNOWN WAY\\nTwo travelers met upon a plain\\nWhere two straight, narrow pathways crossed;\\nThey met and, with a still surprise,\\nThey looked into each other s eyes\\nAnd knew that never, oh, never again\\nCould one from the other soul be lost.\\nBut lo these narrow pathways lead\\nNow each from each apart, and lo\\nIn neither pathway can they go\\nTogether, in their new, strange need.\\nFar-orT the purple mountains loom,\\nVague and far-off, and fixed as fate,\\nWhich hide from sight that land unknown\\nWhere, ever, like a carven stone\\nThe setting sun doth stand and wait,\\nAnd men cry not Too late too late!\\nAnd sorrow turns to a golden gloom.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "THE SOWER 25\\nBut oh, the long journey all unled\\nBy track of traveler o er the plain\\nThe stony desert, bleak and rude,\\nThe bruised feet and the tired brain\\nAnd oh, the twofold solitude,\\nThe doubt, the danger, and the dread\\nXXVI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE SOWER\\nA Sower went forth to sow;\\nHis eyes were dark with woe\\nHe crushed the flowers beneath his feet,\\nNor smelt the perfume, warm and sweet,\\nThat prayed for pity everywhere.\\nHe came to a field that was harried\\nBy iron, and to heaven laid bare\\nHe shook the seed that he carried\\nO er that brown and bladeless place.\\nHe shook it, as God shakes hail\\nOver a doomed land,\\nWhen lightnings interlace\\nThe sky and the earth, and his wand\\nOf love is a thunder- flail.\\nThus did that Sower sow\\nHis seed was human blood,\\nAnd tears of women and men.\\nAnd I, who near him stood,\\nSaid When the crop comes, then\\nThere will be sobbing and sighing,\\nWeeping and wailing and crying,\\nFlame, and ashes, and woe.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "26 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nIt was an autumn day\\nWhen next I went that way.\\nAnd what, think you, did I see,\\nWhat was it that I heard,\\nWhat music was in the air\\nThe song of a sweet-voiced bird\\nNay but the songs of many,\\nThrilled through with praise and prayer.\\nOf all those voices not any\\nWere sad of memory\\nBut a sea of sunlight flowed,\\nA golden harvest glowed,\\nAnd I said Thou only art wise,\\nGod of the earth and skies\\nAnd I praise thee, again and again,\\nFor the Sower whose name is Pain.\\nXXVII WHEN THE LAST DOUBT IS\\nDOUBTED\\nWhen the last doubt is doubted,\\nThe last black shadow flown\\nWhen the last foe is routed\\nWhen the night is over and gone\\nThen, Love, oh then there will be rest and peace\\nSweet peace and rest that never thou hast known.\\nWhen the hope that in thee moveth\\nIs born and brought to sight\\nWhen past is the pain that proveth\\nThe worth of thy new delight\\nOh then, Love then there will be joy and peace\\nDeep peace and joy, bright morning after night.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "SONG 27\\nINTERLUDE\\nAS melting snow leaves bare the mountain-side\\nIn spaces that grow wider and more wide,\\nSo melted from the sky the cloudy veil\\nThat hid the face of sunrise. Land and ledge\\nAnd waste of glittering waters sent a glare\\nBack to the smiting sun. The trembling air\\nLay, sea on sea, along the horizon s edge\\nAnd on that upper ocean, clear as glass,\\nThe tall ships followed with deep-mirrored sail\\nLike clouds wind-moved that follow and that pass\\nAnd on that upper ocean, far and fair,\\nFloated low islands all unseen before.\\nGreen grew the ocean shaken through with light,\\nAnd blue the heavens faint-flecked with plumy white.\\nLike pennants on the wind, from o er the rocks\\nThe birds whirled seaward in shrill -piping flocks\\nAnd through the dawn, as through the shadowy night,\\nThe sound of waves that break upon the shore\\nPART IV\\nI SONG\\nIOVE, Love, my love,\\nj The best things are the truest!\\nWhen the earth lies shadowy dark below\\nOh then the heavens are bluest!\\nDeep the blue of the sky,\\nAnd sharp the gleam of the stars,\\nAnd oh, more bright against the night\\nThe Aurora s crimson bars", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "28 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII THE MIRROR\\nThat I should love thee seemeth meet and wise,\\nSo beautiful thou art that he were mad\\nWho in thy countenance no pleasure had\\nWho felt not the still music of thine eyes\\nFall on his forehead, as the evening skies\\nThe music of the stars feel and are glad.\\nBut o er my mind one doubt still cast a shade\\nTill in my thought this answer did arise\\nThat thou shouldst love me is not wise or meet,\\nFor like thee, Love, I am not beautiful\\nAnd yet I think that haply in my face\\nThou findest a true beauty; this poor, dull,\\nDisfigured mirror dimly may repeat\\nA little part of thy most heavenly grace.\\nIll LIKENESS IN UNLIKENESS\\nWe are alike, and yet, oh strange and sweet!\\nEach in the other difference discerns\\nSo the torn strands the maiden s finger turns\\nOpposing ways, when they again do meet\\nClasp each in each, as flame clasps into heat;\\nSo when this hand on this cool bosom burns,\\nEach sense is lost in the other. So two urns\\nDo, side by side, the selfsame lines repeat,\\nBut various color gives a lovelier grace,\\nAnd each by contrast still more fine has grown.\\nThus, Love, it was, I did forget thy face\\nAs more and more to me thy soul was known\\nVague in my mind it grew till, in its place,\\nAnother came I knew not from my own.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "I COUNT MY TIME BY TIMES, ETC.\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 SONG\\nNot from the whole wide world I chose thee,-\\nSweetheart, light of the land and the sea\\nThe wide, wide world could not inclose thee,\\nFor thou art the whole wide world to me.\\nV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 ALL IN ONE\\nOnce when a maiden maidenly went by,\\nOr when I found some wonder in the grass,\\nOr when a purple sunset slow did pass,\\nOr a great star rushed silent through the sky\\nOnce when I heard a singing ecstasy,\\nOr saw the moon s face in the river s glass\\nThen I remembered that for me, alas\\nThis beauty must for ever and ever die.\\nBut now I may thus sorrow never more\\nFrom fleeting beauty thou hast torn the pall\\nOf beauty, Love, thou art the soul and core\\nAnd though the empty shadow fading fall,\\nThough lesser birds lift up their wings and soar,-\\nIn having thee alone, Love, I have all.\\nVI I COUNT MY TIME BY TIMES THAT\\nI MEET THEE\\nI count my time by times that I meet thee\\nThese are my yesterdays, my morrows, noons,\\nAnd nights these my old moons and my new moons.\\nSlow fly the hours, or fast the hours do flee,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "3\u00c2\u00a9 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIf thou art far from or art near to me\\nIf thou art far, the bird tunes are no tunes\\nIf thou art near, the wintry days are Junes\\nDarkness is light, and sorrow cannot be.\\nThou art my dream come true, and thou my dream\\nThe air I breathe, the world wherein I dwell\\nMy journey s end thou art, and thou the way;\\nThou art what I would be, yet only seem\\nThou art my heaven and thou art my hell\\nThou art my ever-living judgment-day.\\nVII SONG\\nYears have flown since I knew thee first,\\nAnd I know thee as water is known of thirst\\nYet I knew thee of old at the first sweet sight,\\nAnd thou art strange to me, Love, to-night.\\nVIII THE SEASONS\\nO strange Spring days, when from the shivering ground\\nLove riseth, wakening from his dreamful swound\\nAnd, frightened, in the stream his face hath found\\nO Summer days, when Love hath grown apace,\\nAnd feareth not to look upon Love s face,\\nAnd lightnings burn where earth and sky embrace\\nO Autumn, when the winds are dank and dread,\\nHow brave above the dying and the dead\\nThe conqueror, Love, uplifts his banner red\\nO Winter, when the earth lies white and chill\\nNow only hath strong Love his perfect will,\\nWhom heat, nor cold, nor death can bind nor kill.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "THE VIOLIN 31\\nIX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 SUMMER S RAIN AND\\nWINTER S SNOW\\nSummer s rain and winter s snow\\nWith the seasons come and go\\nShine and shower\\nTender bud and perfect flower;\\nSilver blossom, golden fruit\\nSong and lute,\\nWith their inward sound of pain\\nWinter s snow and summer s rain\\nFrost and fire\\nJoy beyond the heart s desire\\nAnd our June comes round again.\\nX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE VIOLIN\\nBefore the listening world behold him stand\\nThe warm air trembles with his passionate play\\nTheir cheers shower round him like the ocean spray\\nRound one who waits upon the stormy strand.\\nTheir smiles, sighs, tears all are at his command\\nAnd now they hear the trump of judgment-day,\\nAnd now one silver note to heaven doth stray\\nAnd fluttering fall upon the golden sand.\\nBut like the murmur of the distant sea\\nTheir loud applause, and far off, faint, and weak\\nSounds his own music to him, wild and free\\nEar from the soul of music that doth speak\\nIn wordless wail and lyric ecstasy\\nFrom that good viol pressed against his cheek.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "32 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nXI O SILVER RIVER FLOWING TO\\nTHE SEA\\nsilver river flowing to the sea,\\nStrong, calm, and solemn as thy mountains be\\nPoets have sung thy ever-living power,\\nThy wintry day, and summer sunset hour\\nHave told how rich thou art, how broad, how deep;\\nWhat commerce thine, how many myriads reap\\nThe harvest of thy waters. They have sung\\nThy moony nights, when every shadow flung\\nFrom cliff or pine is peopled with dim ghosts\\nOf settlers, old-world fairies, or the hosts\\nOf savage warriors that once plowed thy waves\\nNow hurrying to the dance from hidden graves\\nThe waving outline of thy wooded mountains,\\nThy populous towns that stretch from forest fountains\\nOn either side, far to the salty main,\\nLike golden coins alternate on a chain.\\nThou pathway of the empire of the North,\\nThy praises through the earth have traveled forth\\n1 hear thee praised as one who hears the shout\\nThat follows when a hero from the rout\\nOf battle issues, Lo, how brave is he,\\nHow noble, proud, and beautiful But she\\nWho knows him best How tender So thou art\\nThe river of love to me\\nHeart of my heart,\\nDear love and bride is it not so indeed\\nAmong your treasures keep this new-plucked reed.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "AFTER MANY DAYS 33\\nXII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 MY SONGS ARE ALL OF THEE\\nMy songs are all of thee, what though I sing\\nOf morning when the stars are yet in sight,\\nOf evening, or the melancholy night,\\nOf birds that o er the reddening waters wing\\nOf song, of fire, of winds, or mists that cling\\nTo mountain-tops, of winter all in white,\\nOf rivers that toward ocean take their flight,\\nOf summer when the rose is blossoming.\\nI think no thought that is not thine, no breath\\nOf life I breathe beyond thy sanctity\\nThou art the voice that silence uttereth,\\nAnd of all sound thou art the sense. From thee\\nThe music of my song, and what it saith\\nIs but the beat of thy heart, throbbed through me.\\nXIII AFTER MANY DAYS\\nDear heart, I would that after many days,\\nWhen we are gone, true lovers in a book\\nMight find these faithful songs of ours. O look\\nI hear him murmur while he straightway lays\\nHis finger on the page, and she doth raise\\nHer eyes to his. Then, like the winter brook\\nFrom whose young limbs a sudden summer shook\\nThe fetters, love flows on in sunny ways.\\nI would that when we are no more, dear heart,\\nThe world might hold thy unforgotten name\\nInviolate in these eternal rhymes.\\nI would have poets say Let not the art\\nWherewith they loved be lost To us the blame\\nShould love grow less in these our modern times.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "34 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nXIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 WEAL AND WOE\\nO highest, strongest, sweetest woman-soul\\nThou holdest in the compass of thy grace\\nAll the strange fate and passion of thy race\\nOf the old, primal curse thou knowest the whole.\\nThine eyes, too wise, are heavy with the dole,\\nThe doubt, the dread of all this human maze\\nThou in the virgin morning of thy days\\nHast felt the bitter waters o er thee roll.\\nYet thou knowest, too, the terrible delight,\\nThe still content, and solemn ecstasy\\nWhatever sharp, sweet bliss thy kind may know.\\nThy spirit is deep for pleasure as for woe\\nDeep as the rich, dark-caverned, awful sea\\nThat the keen- winded, glimmering dawn makes white,\\nXV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 OH, LOVE IS NOT A\\nSUMMER MOOD\\nOh, Love is not a summer mood,\\nNor flying phantom of the brain,\\nNor youthful fever of the blood,\\nNor dream, nor fate, nor circumstance.\\nLove is not born of blinded chance,\\nNor bred in simple ignorance.\\nLove is the flower of maidenhood\\nLove is the fruit of mortal pain\\nAnd she hath winter in her blood.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "HE KNOWS NOT THE PATH OF DUTY 35\\nTrue love is steadfast as the skies,\\nAnd once alight she never flies\\nAnd love is strong, and love is wise.\\nXVI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 LOVE IS NOT BOND TO ANY MAN\\nLove is not bond to any man,\\nNor slave of woman, howso fair.\\nLove knows no architect nor plan,\\nShe is a lawless wanderer,\\nShe hath no master over her,\\nAnd loveth not her worshiper.\\nii\\nBut though she knoweth law nor plan,\\nThough she is free as light and air,\\nLove was a slave since time began.\\nLo, now, behold a wondrous thing\\nThough from stone walls she taketh wing\\nLove may be led by a silken string.\\nXVII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 HE KNOWS NOT THE PATH OF\\nDUTY\\nHe knows not the path of duty\\nWho says that the way is sweet\\nBut he who is blind to the beauty,\\nAnd finds but thorns for his feet.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "36 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nHe alone is the perfect giver\\nWho swears that his gift is nought\\nAnd he is the sure receiver\\nWho gains what he never sought.\\nHeaven from the hopeless doubter\\nThe true believer makes\\nAgainst the darkness outer\\nThe light God s likeness takes.\\nLike the pale, cold moon above her\\nWith its heart of the heart of fire,\\nMy Love is the one true lover,\\nAnd hers is the soul of desire.\\nAFTER-SONG\\nTHROUGH love to light Oh wonderful the way\\nThat leads from darkness to the perfect day\\nFrom darkness and from sorrow of the night\\nTo morning that comes singing o er the sea.\\nThrough love to light Through light, O God, to thee,\\nWho art the love of love, the eternal light of light", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "THE CELESTIAL PASSION", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "PRELUDE\\nTHE CELESTIAL PASSION\\nWHITE and midnight sky O starry bath\\nWash me in thy pure, heavenly, crystal flood\\nCleanse me, ye stars, from earthly soil and scath\\nLet not one taint remain in spirit or blood\\nReceive my soul, ye burning, awful deeps\\nTouch and baptize me with the mighty power\\nThat in ye thrills, while the dark planet sleeps\\nMake me all yours for one blest, secret hour\\nO glittering host O high angelic choir\\nSilence each tone that with thy music jars;\\nFill me even as an urn with thy white fire\\nTill all I am is kindred to the stars\\nMake me thy child, thou infinite, holy night\\nSo shall my days be full of heavenly light\\nPART I\\nI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 ART AND LIFE\\nSAID the Poet unto the Seer\\nHow shall I learn to tell\\nWhat I know of Heaven and Hell\\nI speak, but to ashes turn\\nThe passions that in me burn.\\nI shout to the skies, but I hear\\n39", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "40 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nNo answer from man or God.\\nShall I cast my lyre to the sod,\\nRest, and give over the strife,\\nAnd sink in a voiceless life\\nSaid the Seer to the Poet: Arise\\nAnd give to the seas and the skies\\nThe message that in thee burns.\\nThrice speak, though the blue sky turns\\nDeaf ears, and the ocean spurns\\nThy call. Though men despise\\nThe word that from out thy heart\\nFlameth do thou thy part.\\nThrice speak it, aloud, I say,\\nThen go, released, on thy way\\nLive thou deeply and wise;\\nSuffer as never before\\nKnow joy, till it cuts to the quick;\\nEat the apple, Life, to the core.\\nBe thou cursed\\nBy them thou hast blessed, by the sick\\nWhom thou in thy weakness nursed.\\nWith thy strength the faint endue\\nBe praised when t were better to blame;\\nIn the home of thy spirit be true,\\nThough the voice of the street cry shame.\\nBe silent till all is done,\\nThen return, in the light of the sun,\\nAnd once more sing.\\nOh, then fling\\nInto music thy soul Tell the seas\\nAgain all thy thought; Oh, be strong\\nThy voice as the voice of the waves, as the\\nvoice of the trees", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "THE POET AND HIS MASTER 41\\nTell the blast,\\nThat shall shudder as onward it flies\\nWith thy word, with thy song\\nTell the skies,\\nAnd the world, that shall listen at last\\nII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE POET AND HIS MASTER\\nOne day the poet s harp lay on the ground,\\nThough from it rose a strange and trembling sound\\nWhat time the wind swept over with a moan,\\nOr, now and then, a faint and tinkling tone\\nWhen a dead leaf fell shuddering from a tree\\nAnd shook the silent wires all tremulously\\nAnd near it, dumb with sorrow, and alone\\nThe poet sat. His heart was like a stone.\\nThen one drew near him who was robed in white\\nIt was the poet s master he had given\\nTo him that harp, once in a happy night\\nWhen every silver star that shone in heaven\\nMade music ne er before was heard by mortal wight\\nAnd thus the master spoke\\nWhy is thy voice\\nSilent, O poet Why upon the grass\\nLies thy still harp The fitful breezes pass\\nAnd stir the wires, but the skilled player s hand\\nMoves not upon them. Poet, wake Rejoice\\nSing and arouse the melancholy land\\nMaster, forbear. I may not sing to-day\\nMy nearest friend, the brother of my heart,\\nThis day is stricken with sorrow, he must part\\n3*", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "42 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nFrom her who loves him. Can I sing, and play\\nUpon the joyous harp, and mock his woe\\nAlas, and hast thou then so soon forgot\\nThe bond that with thy gift of song did go\\nSevere as fate, fixed and unchangeable\\nEven though his heart be sounding its own knell\\nDost thou not know this is the poet s lot\\nMid sounds of war, in halcyon times of peace,\\nTo strike the ringing wire and not to cease\\nIn hours of general happiness to swell\\nThe common joy and when the people cry\\nWith piteous voice loud to the pitiless sky,\\nT is his to frame the universal prayer\\nAnd breathe the balm of song upon the accursed air\\nBut t is not, O my master that I borrow\\nThe robe of grief to deck my brother s sorrow\\nMine eyes have seen beyond the veil of youth;\\nI know what Life is, have caught sight of Truth\\nMy heart is dead within me a thick pall\\nDarkens the midday sun.\\nAnd dost thou call\\nThis sorrow Call this knowledge O thou blind\\nAnd ignorant Know, then, thou yet shalt find,\\nEre thy full days are numbered neath the sun,\\nThou, in thy shallow youth, hadst but begun\\nTo guess what knowledge is, what grief may be,\\nAnd all the infinite sum of human misery\\nShalt find that for each drop of perfect good\\nThou pay est, at last, a threefold price in blood\\nWhat is most noble in thee, every thought\\nHighest and best, crushed, spat upon, and brought", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "MORS TRIUMPHALIS 43\\nTo an open shame; thy natural ignorance\\nCounted thy crime; the world all ruled by chance,\\nSave that the good most suffer but above\\nThese ills another, cruel, monstrous, worse\\nThan all before thy pure and passionate love\\nShall bring the old, immitigable curse.\\nAnd thou who telPst me this, dost bid me sing\\nI bid thee sing, even though I have not told\\nAll the deep flood of anguish shall be rolled\\nAcross thy breast. Nor, Poet, shalt thou bring\\nFrom out those depths thy grief! Tell to the wind\\nThy private woes, but not to human ear,\\nSave in the shape of comfort for thy kind.\\nBut never hush thy song, dare not to cease\\nWhile life is thine. Haply, mid those who hear,\\nThy music to one soul shall murmur peace,\\nThough for thyself it hath no power to cheer.\\nThen shall thy still unbroken spirit grow\\nStrong in its silent suffering and more wise\\nAnd as the drenched and thunder-shaken skies\\nPass into golden sunset thou shalt know\\nAn end of calm, when evening breezes blow\\nAnd looking on thy life with vision fine\\nShalt see the shadow of a hand divine.\\nIll MORS TRIUMPHALIS\\nIn the hall of the king the loud mocking of many at\\none;\\nWhile lo with his hand on his harp the old bard is\\nundone", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "44 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nOne false note, then he stammers, he sobs like a child,\\nhe is failing,\\nAnd the song that so bravely began ends in discord and\\nwailing.\\nii\\nCan it be it is they who make merry, t is they taunting\\nhim?\\nShall the sun, then, be scorned by the planets, the tree\\nby the limb\\nThese bardlings, these mimics, these echoes, these shad-\\nows at play,\\nWhile he only is real they shine but as motes in his\\nday!\\nin\\nAll that in them is best is from him all they know he\\nhas taught;\\nBut one secret he never could teach, and they never\\nhave caught\\nThe soul of his songs, that goes sighing like wind through\\nthe reeds,\\nAnd thrills men, and moves them to terror, to prayer,\\nand to deeds.\\nIV\\nHas the old poet failed, then the singer forgotten his\\nart?\\nWhy, t was he who once startled the world with a cry\\nfrom his heart;\\nAnd he held it entranced in a life-song, all music, all\\nlove;\\nIf now it grow faint and grow still, they have called him\\nabove.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "MORS TRIUMPHALIS 45\\nAh, never again shall we hear such fierce music and\\nsweet\\nSurely never from you, ye who mock, for his footstool\\nunmeet\\nE en his song left unsung had more power than the note\\nye prolong,\\nAnd one sweep of his harp-strings outpassioned the\\nheight of your song.\\nVI\\nBut a sound like the voice of the pine, like the roar of\\nthe sea\\nArises. He breathes now he sings oh, again he is\\nfree.\\nHe has flung from his flesh, from his spirit, their shackles\\naccursed,\\nAnd he pours all his heart, all his life, in one passionate\\nburst.\\nVII\\nAnd now as he chants those who listen turn pale, are\\nafraid\\nFor he sings of a God that made all, and is all that was\\nmade;\\nWho is maker of love, and of hate, and of peace, and\\nof strife\\nSmiles a world into life frowns a hell, that yet thrills\\nwith his life.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "46 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nVIII\\nAnd he sings of the time that shall be when the earth\\nis grown old;\\nOf the day when the sun shall be withered, and shrunken,\\nand cold\\nWhen the stars, and the moon, and the sun, all their\\nglory o erpast,\\nLike apples that shrivel and rot, shall drop into the Vast.\\nIX\\nAnd onward and out soars his song on its journey sub-\\nlime,\\nMid systems that vanish or live in the lilt of his rhyme;\\nAnd through making and marring of races, and worlds,\\nstill he sings\\nOne theme, that o er all and through all his wild music\\noutrings\\nx\\nThis one theme that whate er be the fate that has hurt\\nus or joyed;\\nWhatever the face that is turned to us out of the void\\nBe it cursing or blessing or night, or the light of the\\nsun;\\nBe it ill, be it good; be it life, be it death, it is One\\nXI\\nOne thought, and one law, and one awful and infinite\\npower;\\nIn atom, and world in the bursting of fruit and of\\nflower;", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "THE MASTER-POETS 47\\nThe laughter of children, and roar of the lion untamed\\nAnd the stars in their courses one name that can\\nnever be named.\\nXII\\nBut sudden a silence has fallen, the music has fled\\nThough he leans with his hand on his harp, now indeed\\nhe is dead\\nBut the swan-song he sang shall for ever and ever abide\\nIn the heart of the world, with the winds and the mur-\\nmuring tide.\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE MASTER-POETS\\nHe the great World- Musician at whose stroke\\nThe stars of morning into music broke\\nHe from whose Being Infinite are caught\\nAll harmonies of light, and sound, and thought\\nOnce in each age, to keep the world in tune\\nHe strikes a note sublime. Nor late, nor soon,\\nA godlike soul, music and passion s birth,\\nVibrates across the discord of the earth\\nAnd sets the world aright.\\nOh, these are they\\nWho on men s hearts with mightiest power can play-\\nThe master-poets of humanity,\\nFrom heaven sent down to lift men to the sky.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "48 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nPART II\\nI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A CHRISTMAS HYMN\\nTELL me what is this innumerable throng\\nSinging in the heavens a loud angelic song\\nThese are they who come with swift and shining feet\\nFro?n round about the throne of God the Lord of Light\\nto greet.\\nII\\nOh, who are these that hasten beneath the starry sky,\\nAs if with joyful tidings that through the world shall fly\\nThe faithful shepherds these, who greatly were af eared\\nWhen, as they watched their flocks by night, the\\nheavenly host appeared.\\nIll\\nWho are these that follow across the hills of night\\nA star that westward hurries along the fields of light\\nThree wise men from the east who myrrh and treasure\\nbring\\nTo lay the?n at the feet of him their Lord and Christ\\nand King.\\nIV\\nWhat babe new-born is this that in a manger cries\\nNear on her bed of pain his happy mother lies.\\nOh, see the air is shaken with white a7id heavenly\\nwings\\nThis is the Lord of all the earth, this is the King of\\nkings.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "EASTER 49\\nTell me, how may I join in this holy feast\\nWith all the kneeling world, and I of all the least\\nFear not, O faithful heart, but bring what most is meet:\\nBri?ig love alone, true love alone, and lay it at his feet.\\nII EASTER\\ni\\nWhen in the starry gloom\\nThey sought the Lord Christ s tomb,\\nTwo angels stood in sight\\nAll dressed in burning white\\nWho unto the women said\\nWhy seek ye the living among the dead\\nii\\nHis life, his hope, his heart,\\nWith death they had no part\\nFor this those words of scorn\\nFirst heard that holy morn,\\nWhen the waiting angels said\\nWhy seek ye the living among the dead\\nin\\nO, ye of this latter day,\\nWho journey the selfsame way\\nThrough morning s twilight gloom\\nBack to the shadowy tomb\\nTo you, as to them, was it said\\nWhy seek ye the living among the dead", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "50 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIV\\nThe Lord is risen indeed,\\nHe is here for your love, for your need\\nNot in the grave, nor the sky,\\nBut here where men live and die\\nAnd true the word that was said\\nWhy seek ye the living among the dead\\nWherever are tears and sighs,\\nWherever are children s eyes,\\nWhere man calls man his brother,\\nAnd loves as himself another,\\nChrist lives The angels said\\nWhy seek ye the living among the dead\\nIII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A MADONNA OF FRA LIPPO LIPPI\\nNo heavenly maid we here behold,\\nThough round her brow a ring of gold\\nThis baby, solemn-eyed and sweet,\\nIs human all from head to feet.\\nTogether close her palms are prest\\nIn worship of that godly guest\\nBut glad her heart and unafraid\\nWhile on her neck his hand is laid.\\nTwo children, happy, laughing, gay,\\nUphold the little child in play\\nNot flying angels these, what though\\nFour wings from their four shoulders grow.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "THE SONG OF A HEATHEN\\nFra Lippo, we have learned from thee\\nA lesson of humanity\\nTo every mother s heart forlorn,\\nIn every house the Christ is born.\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 COST\\nBecause Heaven s cost is Hell, and perfect joy\\nHurts as hurts sorrow and because we win\\nSome boon of grace with the dread cost of sin,\\nOr suffering born of sin because the alloy\\nOf blood but makes the bliss of victory brighter\\nBecause true worth hath surest proof herein,\\nThat it should be reproached, and called akin\\nTo evil things black making white the whiter j\\nBecause no cost seems great near this that He\\nShould pay the ransom wherewith we were priced;\\nAnd none could name a darker infamy\\nThan that a god was spit upon, enticed\\nBy those he came to save, to the accursed tree,\\nFor this I know that Christ indeed is Christ.\\nV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE SONG OF A HEATHEN\\n(SOJOURNING IN GALILEE, A. D. 32)\\nIf Jesus Christ is a man,\\nAnd only a man, I say\\nThat of all mankind I cleave to him,\\nAnd to him will I cleave alway.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "52 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nIf Jesus Christ is a God,\\nAnd the only God, I swear\\nI will follow Him through heaven and hell,\\nThe earth, the sea, and the air\\nVI HOLY LAND\\nThis is the earth he walked on not alone\\nThat Asian country keeps the sacred stain;\\nAh, nof alone the far Judasan plain,\\nMountain and river Lo, the sun that shone\\nOn him, shines now on us when day is gone\\nThe moon of Galilee comes forth again\\nAnd lights our path as his; an endless chain\\nOf years and sorrows makes the round world one.\\nThe air we breathe, he breathed the very air\\nThat took the mold and music of his high\\nAnd godlike speech. Since then shall mortal dare\\nWith base thought front the ever-sacred sky\\nSoil with foul deed the ground whereon he laid\\nIn holy death his pale, immortal head\\nVII ON A PORTRAIT OF SERVETUS\\nThou grim and haggard wanderer, who dost look\\nWith haunting eyes forth from the narrow page,\\nI know what fires consumed with inward rage\\nThy broken frame, what tempests chilled and shook\\nAh, could not thy remorseless foeman brook\\nTime s sure devourment, but must needs assuage\\nHis anger in thy blood, and blot the age\\nWith that dark crime which virtue s semblance took", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "TO REST FROM WEARY WORK 53\\nServetus that which slew thee lives to-day,\\nThough in new forms it taints our modern air\\nStill in heaven s name the deeds of hell are done\\nStill on the high-road, neath the noonday sun,\\nThe fires of hate are lit for them who dare\\nFollow their Lord along the untrodden way.\\nVIII DESPISE NOT THOU\\nDespise not thou thy father s ancient creed,\\nOf his pure life it was the golden thread\\nWhereon bright days were gathered, bead by bead,\\nTill death laid low that dear and reverend head.\\nFrom olden faith how many a glorious deed\\nHath lit the world its blood-stained banner led\\nThe martyrs heavenward yea, it was the seed\\nOf knowledge, whence our modern freedom spread.\\nNot always has man s credo proved a snare\\nBut a deliverance, a sign, a flame\\nTo purify the dense and pestilent air,\\nWriting on pitiless heavens one pitying name\\nAnd neath the shadow of the dread eclipse\\nIt shines on dying eyes and pallid lips.\\nIX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 TO REST FROM WEARY WORK\\nTo rest from weary work one day of seven\\nOne day to turn our backs upon the world,\\nIts soil wash from us, and strive on to Heaven\\nWhereto we daily climb, but quick are hurled\\nDown to the pit of human pride and sin.\\nHelp me, ye powers celestial to come nigh\\nAh, let me catch one little glimpse within\\nThe heavenly city, lest my spirit die.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "54 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nThese be my guides, my messengers, my friends\\nBooks of wise poets the musician s art\\nThe ocean whose deep music never ends;\\nThe silence of the forest s shadowy heart\\nAnd, too, the brooding organ s solemn blare,\\nAnd kneeling multitudes low-murmuring prayer.\\nPART III\\nI RECOGNITION\\nIN darkness of the visionary night\\nThis I beheld Wide space and therein God,\\nGod who in dual nature doth abide\\nLove, and the Loved One, Power and Beauty s self;\\nHim even the spirit s eye might not transfix\\nBut sidelong gazed, fainting before the light.\\nAnd forth from God did come, with dreadful thrill,\\nAnd starry music like to million wires\\nThat shiver with the breathings of the dawn,\\nCreation, boundless, bodiless, unformed,\\nAnd white with trembling fire and light intense,\\nAnd outward pulsings like the boreal flame.\\nOne mighty cloud it seemed, nor star, nor earth,\\nOr like a nameless growth of the under-seas;\\nCreation dumb, unconscious, yet alive\\nWith some deep, inward passion unexpressed,\\nAnd swift, concentric, never-ceasing urge\\nResolving gradual to one disk of fire.\\nAnd as I looked, behold the flying rim\\nGrew separate from the center this again", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "RECOGNITION 55\\nDivided, and the whole still swift revolved,\\nRing within ring, and fiery wheel in wheel;\\nTill, sudden or slow as chanced, the outmost edge\\nWhirled into fragments, each a separate sun,\\nWith lesser globes attendant on its flight.\\nThese while I gazed turned dark with smoldering fire\\nAnd, slow contracting, grew to solid orbs.\\nThen knew I that this planetary world,\\nCradled in light, and curtained with the dawn\\nAnd starry eve, was born though in itself\\nComplete and perfect all, yet but a part\\nAnd atom of the living universe.\\nii\\nUnconscious still the child of the conscious God\\nCreation, born of Beauty and of Love,\\nBeauty the womb and mother of all worlds.\\nBut soon with breathless speed the new-made earth\\nSwept near me where I watched the birth of things,\\nIts greatening bulk eclipsing, star by star,\\nHalf the bright heavens. Then I beheld crawl forth\\nUpon the earth s cool crust most wondrous forms\\nWherein were hid, in transmutation strange,\\nSparks of the ancient, never-ending fire\\nShapes moved not solely by exterior law\\nBut having will and motion of their own,\\nFirst sluggish and minute, then by degrees\\nMonstrous, enorm. Then other forms more fine\\nStreamed ceaseless on my sight, until at last,\\nRising and turning its slow gaze about\\nAcross the abysmal void, the mighty child", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "56 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nOf the supreme, divine Omnipotence\\nCreation, born of God, by him begot,\\nConscious in Man, no longer blind and dumb,\\nBeheld and knew its father and its God.\\nII HYMN\\nSUNG AT THE PRESENTATION OF THE OBELISK TO THE\\nCITY OF NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 22, 1 88 1\\nGreat God, to whom since time began\\nThe world has prayed and striven\\nMaker of stars, and earth, and man,\\nTo thee our praise is given.\\nHere, by this ancient Sign\\nOf thine own Light divine,\\nWe lift to thee our eyes\\nThou Dweller of the Skies;\\nHear us, O God in Heaven\\nOlder than Nilus mighty flood\\nInto the Mid-Sea pouring,\\nOr than the sea, thou God hast stood\\nThou God of our adoring!\\nWaters and stormy blast\\nHaste when thou bid st them haste\\nSilent, and hid, and still,\\nThou sendest good and ill;\\nThy ways are past exploring.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "A THOUGHT 57\\nIII\\nIn myriad forms, by myriad names,\\nMen seek to bind and mold thee\\nBut thou dost melt, like wax in flames,\\nThe cords that would enfold thee.\\nWho madest life and light,\\nBring st morning after night,\\nWho all things did st create\\nNo majesty, nor state,\\nNor word, nor world can hold thee\\nIV\\nGreat God, to whom since time began\\nThe world has prayed and striven\\nMaker of stars, and earth, and man,\\nTo thee our praise is given.\\nOf suns thou art the Sun,\\nEternal, holy One\\nWho us can help save thou\\nTo thee alone we bow\\nHear us, O God in heaven\\nIll\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A THOUGHT\\nOnce, looking from a window on a land\\nThat lay in silence underneath the sun,\\nA land of broad, green meadows, through which poured\\nTwo rivers, slowly widening to the sea,\\nThus as I looked, I know not how nor whence,\\nWas born into my unexpectant soul\\nThat thought, late learned by anxious-witted man,\\nThe infinite patience of the Eternal Mind.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "58 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE VOICE OF THE PINE\\nT is night upon the lake. Our bed of boughs\\nIs built where, high above, the pine-tree soughs.\\nT is still and yet what woody noises loom\\nAgainst the background of the silent gloom\\nOne well might hear the opening of a flower\\nIf day were hushed as this. A mimic shower\\nJust shaken from a branch, how large it sounded,\\nAs gainst our canvas roof its three drops bounded\\nAcross the rumpling waves the hoot-owl s bark\\nTolls forth the midnight hour upon the dark.\\nWhat mellow booming from the hills doth come\\nThe mountain quarry strikes its mighty drum.\\nLong had we lain beside our pine-wood fire,\\nFrom things of sport our talk had risen higher.\\nHow frank and intimate the words of men\\nWhen tented lonely in some forest glen\\nNo dallying now with masks, from whence emerges\\nScarce one true feature forth. The night-wind urges\\nTo straight and simple speech. So we had thought\\nAloud no secrets but to light were brought.\\nThe hid and spiritual hopes, the wild,\\nUnreasoned longings that, from child to child,\\nMortals still cherish (though with modern shame)\\nTo these, and things like these, we gave a name;\\nAnd as we talked, the intense and resinous fire\\nLit up the towering boles, till nigh and nigher\\nThey gathered round, a ghostly company,\\nLike beasts who seek to know what men may be.\\nThen to our hemlock beds, but not to sleep\\nFor listening to the stealthy steps that creep", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "MORNING AND NIGHT 59\\nAbout the tent, or falling branch, but most\\nA noise was like the rustling of a host,\\nOr like the sea that breaks upon the shore\\nIt was the pine-tree s murmur. More and more\\nIt took a human sound. These words I felt\\nInto the skyey darkness float and melt\\nHeardst thou these wanderers reasoning of a time\\nWhen men more near the Eternal One shall climb\\nHow like the new-born child, who cannot tell\\nA mother s arm that wraps it warm and well\\nLeaves of His rose drops in His sea that flow,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nAre they, alas, so blind they may not know\\nHere, in this breathing world of joy and fear,\\nThey can no nearer get to God than here.\\nV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 MORNING AND NIGHT\\ni\\nThe mountain that the morn doth kiss\\nGlad greets its shining neighbor\\nLord heed the homage of our bliss,\\nThe incense of our labor.\\nNow the long shadows eastward creep,\\nThe golden sun is setting\\nTake, Lord the worship of our sleep,\\nThe praise of our forgetting.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "60 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nVI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 DAY UNTO DAY UTTERETH\\nSPEECH\\nThe speech that day doth utter, and the night,\\nFull oft to mortal ears it hath no sound\\nDull are our eyes to read upon the ground\\nWhat s written there and stars are hid by light.\\nSo when the dark doth fall, awhile our sight\\nKens the unwonted orbs that circle round,\\nThen quick in sleep our human sense is bound\\nSpeechless for us the starry heavens and bright.\\nBut when the day doth close there is one word\\nThat s writ amid the sunset s golden embers\\nAnd one at morn by them our hearts are stirred\\nSplendor of Dawn, and Evening that remembers\\nThese are the rhymes of God thus, line on line,\\nOur souls are moved to thoughts that are divine.\\nPART IV\\nI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE SOUL\\nTHREE messengers to me from heaven came\\nAnd said There is a deathless human soul\\nIt is not lost, as is the fiery flame\\nThat dies into the undistinguished whole.\\nAh, no; it separate is, distinct as God\\nNor any more than He can it be killed\\nThen fearless give thy body to the clod,\\nFor nought can quench the light that once it\\nfilled!", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "LOVE AND DEATH 61\\nThree messengers the first was human Love;\\nThe second voice came crying in the night\\nWith strange and awful music from above;\\nNone who have heard that voice forget it quite\\nBirth is it named the third, O, turn not pale\\nT was Death to the undying soul cried, Hail\\nII WHEN LOVE DAWNED\\nWhen love dawned on that world which is my mind,\\nThen did the outer world wherein I went\\nSuffer a sudden, strange transfigurement\\nIt was as if new sight were given the blind.\\nThen where the shore to the wide sea inclined\\nI watched with new eyes the new sun s ascent\\nMy heart was stirred within me as I leant\\nAnd listened to a voice in every wind.\\nO purple sea O joy beyond control\\nO land of love and youth O happy throng\\nWere ye then real, or did ye only seem\\nDear is that morning twilight of the soul,\\nThe mystery, the waking voice of song,\\nFor now I know it was not all a dream.\\nIll\u00e2\u0080\u0094 LOVE AND DEATH\\ni\\nNow who can take from us what we have known\\nWe that have looked into each other s eyes\\nThough sudden night should blacken all the skies,\\nThe day is ours, and what the day has shown.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "62 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWhat we have seen and been, hath not this grown\\nPart of our very selves We, made love-wise,\\nWhat power shall slay our living memories,\\nAnd who shall take from us what is our own\\nSo, when a shade of the last parting fell,\\nThis thought gave peace, as he deep comfort hath\\nWho, thirsting, drinks cool waters from a well.\\nBut soon I felt more near that fatal breath\\nMore near he drew, till I his face could tell,\\nTill then unseen, unknown I looked on Death.\\nii\\nWe know not where they tarry who have died;\\nThe gate wherein they entered is made fast;\\nNo living mortal hath seen one who passed\\nHither, from out that darkness deep and wide.\\nWe lean on Faith and some less wise have cried\\nBehold the butterfly, the seed that s cast\\nVain hopes that fall like flowers before the blast\\nWhat man can look on Death unterrified\\nWho love can never die They are a part\\nOf all that lives beneath the summer sky\\nWith the world s living soul their souls are one\\nNor shall they in vast nature be undone\\nAnd lost in the general life. Each separate heart\\nShall live, and find its own, and never die.\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 FATHER AND CHILD\\nBeneath the deep and solemn midnight sky,\\nAt this last verge and boundary of time\\nI stand, and listen to the starry chime\\nThat sounds to the inward ear, and will not die.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "BEYOND THE BRANCHES OF THE PINE 63\\nNow do the thoughts that daily hidden lie\\nArise, and live in a celestial clime,\\nUnutterable thoughts, most high, sublime,\\nCrossed by one dread that frights mortality.\\nThus, as I muse, I hear my little child\\nSob in its sleep within the cottage near\\nMy own dear child Gone is that mortal doubt\\nThe Power that drew our lives forth from the wild\\nOur Father is we shall to him be dear,\\nNor from his universe be blotted out\\nBEYOND THE BRANCHES OF THE\\nPINE\\nBeyond the branches of the pine\\nThe golden sun no more doth shine,\\nBut still the solemn afterglow\\nFloods the deep heavens with light divine.\\nThe night-wind stirs the corn-field near,\\nThe gray moon turns to silver clear,\\nAnd one by one the glimmering stars\\nIn the blue dome of heaven appear.\\nNow do the mighty hosts of light\\nAcross the darkness take their flight\\nThey rise above the eastern hill\\nAnd silent journey through the night.\\nAnd there beneath the starry zone,\\nIn the deep, narrow grave, alone,\\nRests all that mortal was of her,\\nThe purest spirit I have known.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "64 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nVI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 AN AUTUMN MEDITATION\\nAs the long day of cloud and storm and sun\\nDeclines into the dark and silent night,\\nSo passed the old man s life from human gaze\\nBut not till sunset, full of lovely light\\nAnd color that the day might not reveal,\\nBathed in soft gloom the landscape.\\nThus kind Heaven\\nLet me, too, die when Autumn holds the year,\\nSerene, with tender hues, and bracing airs,\\nAnd near me those I love with no black thoughts,\\nNor dread of what may come Yea, when I die\\nLet me not miss from nature the cool rush\\nOf northern winds; let Autumn sunset skies\\nBe golden let the cold, clear blue of night\\nWhiten with stars as now then shall I fade\\nFrom life to life pass on the year s full tide\\nInto the swell and vast of the outer sea\\nBeyond this narrow world.\\nFor Autumn days\\nTo me not melancholy are, but full\\nOf joy and hope, mysterious and high\\nAnd with strange promise rife. Then it meseems\\nNot failing is the year, but gathering fire\\nEven as the cold increases.\\nGrows a weed\\nMore richly here beside our mellow seas\\nThat is the Autumn s harbinger and pride.\\nWhen fades the cardinal-flower, whose heart-red bloom", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "CALL ME NOT DEAD 65\\nGlows like a living coal upon the green\\nOf the midsummer meadows, then how bright,\\nHow deepening bright like mounting flame doth burn\\nThe goldenrod upon a thousand hills\\nThis is the Autumn s flower, and to my soul\\nA token fresh of beauty and of life,\\nAnd life s supreme delight.\\nWhen I am gone,\\nSomething of me I would might subtly pass\\nWithin these flowers twain of all the year\\nSo might my spirit send a sudden stir\\nInto the hearts of those who love these hills,\\nThese woods, these waves, and meadows by the sea.\\nVII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 CALL ME NOT DEAD\\nCall me not dead when I, indeed, have gone\\nInto the company of the everliving\\nHigh and most glorious poets Let thanksgiving\\nRather be made. Say He at last hath won\\nRest and release, converse supreme and wise,\\nMusic and song and light of immortal faces\\nTo-day, perhaps, wandering in starry places,\\nHe hath met Keats, and known him by his eyes.\\nTo-morrow (who can say Shakespeare may pass,\\nAnd our lost friend just catch one syllable\\nOf that three-centuried wit that kept so well\\nOr Milton or Dante, looking on the grass\\nThinking of Beatrice, and listening still\\nTo chanted hymns that sound from the heavenly hill.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "66 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nVIII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 EACH MOMENT HOLY IS\\nEach moment holy is, for out from God\\nEach moment flashes forth a human soul.\\nHoly each moment is, for back to him\\nSome wandering soul each moment home returns.\\nIX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 WHEN TO SLEEP I MUST\\nWhen to sleep I must\\nWhere my fathers sleep\\nWhen fulfilled the trust,\\nAnd the mourners weep\\nWhen, though free from rust,\\nSword hath lost its worth\\nLet me bring to earth\\nNo dishonored dust.\\nX\u00e2\u0080\u0094 TO A DEPARTED FRIEND\\nDear friend, who lovedst well this pleasant life\\nOne year ago it is this very day\\nSince thou didst take thy uncompanioned way\\nInto the silent land, from out the strife\\nAnd joyful tumult of the world. The knife\\nWherewith that sorrow cut us, still doth stay,\\nAnd we, to whom thou daily didst betray\\nThy gentle soul, with faith and worship rife,\\nLove thee not less but more as time doth go\\nAnd we too hasten toward that land unknown\\nWhere those most dear are gathering one by one.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "LIFE 67\\nThe power divine that here did touch thy heart\\nHath this withdrawn from thee, where now thou art\\nWould thou indeed couldst tell what thou dost know\\nXI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE EVENING STAR\\nThe evening star trembles and hides from him\\nWho fain would hold it with imperious stare\\nYet, to the averted eye, lo unaware\\nIt shines serene, no longer shy and dim.\\nOh, slow and sweet, its chalice to the brim\\nFills the leaf-shadowed grape with rich and rare\\nCool sunshine, caught from the white circling air\\nHome from his journey to the round world s rim,-\\nThrough lonely lands, through cloudy seas and vext,-\\nAt last the Holy Grail met Launfal s sight.\\nSo when my friend lost him who was her next\\nOf soul, life of her life, all day the fight\\nRaged with a dumb and pitiless God. Perplexed\\nShe slept. Heaven sent its comfort in the night.\\nXII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 LIFE\\nGreat Universe what dost thou with thy dead\\nNow thinking on the myriads that have gone\\nInto a seeming blank oblivion,\\nWith here and there a most resplendent head,\\nEyes of such trancing sweetness, or so dread,\\nThat made the soul to quake who looked thereon,-\\nAll utterly wiped out, dismissed, and done\\nLost, speechless, viewless, and forever fled", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "6 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nMyriad on myriad, past the power to count\\nWhere are they, thou dumb Nature Do they shine,\\nReleased from separate life, in summer airs,\\nOn moony seas, in dawns or up the stairs\\nOf spiritual being slowly mount\\nAnd by degrees grow more and more divine\\nAh, thou wilt never answer to our call,\\nThou Voiceless One nought in thee can be stirred,\\nWhat though the soul, like to a frightened bird,\\nDash itself wildly gainst thy mountain- wall.\\nFrom Nature comes no answer, though we fall\\nIn utmost anguish praying to be heard,\\nOr peer below, or our brave spirits gird\\nFor steep and starry flight t is silent all.\\nIn vain to question save the heart of man,\\nThe throbbing human heart, that still doth keep\\nIts truth, love, hope, its high and quenchless faith.\\nBy day, by night, when all else faints in sleep,\\nNought is but Life, it cries there is no death\\nLife, Life doth only live, since Life began.\\nXIII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE FREED SPIRIT\\nBrother of sorrow and mortality\\nNot always shall we chide the failing flesh\\nThat lets the netted soul to silence fly,\\nLike a wild bird that breaks the treacherous mesh\\nNot always shall men curse in stormy sky\\nThe laughter and the fury of a Power\\nThat sees its chance-born children sink and die\\nHurling or death or life for dole or dower.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "UNDYING LIGHT 69\\nWho deep his spirit searches can deny\\nOh nevermore, that life doth leave a trace\\nOf something not all heavenly though we try\\nDaily to turn toward Heaven a steadfast face.\\nEven grief assoils us with its poisonous breath\\nThen free our spirits utterly, pure Death 1\\nXIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 UNDYING LIGHT\\nWhen in the golden western summer skies\\nA flaming glory starts, and slowly fades\\nThrough crimson tone on tone to deeper shades,\\nThere falls a silence, while the daylight dies\\nLingering but not with human agonies\\nThat tear the soul, or terror that degrades\\nA holy peace the failing world pervades,\\nNor any fear of that which onward lies.\\nFor well, ah well, the darkened vale recalls\\nA thousand times ten thousand vanished suns\\nTen thousand sunsets from whose blackened walls\\nReflamed the white and living day that runs,\\nIn light which brings all beauty to the birth,\\nDeathless forever round the ancient earth.\\nO thou the Lord and Maker of life and light\\nFull heavy are the burdens that do weigh\\nOur spirits earthward, as through twilight gray\\nWe journey to the end and rest of night\\n5", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "70 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nThough well we know to the deep inward sight\\nDarkness is but thy shadow, and the day\\nWhere thou art never dies, but sends its ray\\nThrough the wide universe with restless might.\\nO Lord of Light, steep thou our souls in thee\\nThat when the daylight trembles into shade,\\nAnd falls the silence of mortality,\\nAnd all is done, we shall not be afraid,\\nBut pass from light to light from earth s dull gleam\\nInto the very heart and heaven of our dream.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "LYRICS", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "LYRICS\\nPART I\\nODE\\nI AM the spirit of the morning sea\\nI am the awakening and the glad surprise\\nI fill the skies\\nWith laughter and with light.\\nNot tears, but jollity\\nAt birth of day brim the strong man-child s eyes.\\nBehold the white\\nWide threefold beams that from the hidden sun\\nRise swift and far\\nOne where Orion keeps\\nHis armed watch, and one\\nThat to the midmost starry heaven upleaps\\nThe third blots out the firm-fixed Northern Star.\\nI am the wind that shakes the glittering wave,\\nHurries the snowy spume along the shore\\nAnd dies at last in some far, murmuring cave.\\nMy voice thou hearest in the breaker s roar\\nThat sound which never failed since time began,\\nAnd first around the world the shining tumult ran.\\n73", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "74 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nI light the sea and wake the sleeping land.\\nMy footsteps on the hills make music, and my hand\\nPlays like a harper s on the wind-swept pines.\\nWith the wind and the day\\nI follow round the world away away\\nWide over lake and plain my sunlight shines\\nAnd every wave and every blade of grass\\nDoth know me as I pass\\nAnd me the western sloping mountains know, and me\\nThe far-off, golden sea.\\nsea, whereon the passing sun doth lie\\nO man, who watchest by that golden sea!\\nGrieve not, O grieve not thou, but lift thine eye\\nAnd see me glorious in the sunset sky\\nin\\n1 love not the night\\nSave when the stars are bright,\\nOr when the moon\\nFills the white air with silence like a tune.\\nYea, even the night is mine\\nWhen the Northern Lights outshine,\\nAnd all the wild heavens throb in ecstasy divine\\nYea, mine deep midnight, though the black sky lowers,\\nWhen the sea burns white and breaks on the shore in\\nstarry showers.\\nIV\\nI am the laughter of the new-born child\\nOn whose soft-breathing sleep an angel smiled.\\nAnd I all sweet first things that are\\nFirst songs of birds, not perfect as at last,\\nBroken and incomplete,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "A SONG OF EARLY SUMMER 75\\nBut sweet, oh, sweet\\nAnd I the first faint glimmer of a star\\nTo the wrecked ship that tells the storm is past\\nThe first keen smells and stirrings of the Spring;\\nFirst snowflakes, and first May-flowers after snow\\nThe silver glow\\nOf the new moon s ethereal ring\\nThe song the morning stars together made,\\nAnd the first kiss of lovers under the first June shade.\\nMy sword is quick, my arm is strong to smite\\nIn the dread joy and fury of the fight.\\nI am with those who win, not those who fly\\nWith those who live I am, not those who die.\\nWho die Nay, nay, that word\\nWhere I am is unheard;\\nFor I am the spirit of youth that cannot change,\\nNor cease, nor suffer woe\\nAnd I am the spirit of beauty that doth range\\nThrough natural forms and motions, and each show\\nOf outward loveliness. With me have birth\\nAll gentleness and joy in all the earth.\\nRaphael knew me, and showed the world my face\\nMe Homer knew, and all the singing race\\nFor I am the spirit of light, and life, and mirth.\\nA SONG OF EARLY SUMMER\\nNot yet the orchard lifted\\nIts cloudy bloom to the sky,\\nNor through the twilight drifted\\nThe whippoorwill s low cry;", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "76 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nThe gray rock had not made\\nOf the vine its glistening kirtle\\nNor shook in the locust shade\\nThe purple bells of the myrtle.\\nNot yet up the chimney-hollow\\nWas heard in the darkling night\\nThe boom and whir of the swallow\\nAnd the twitter that follows the flight\\nBefore the foamy whitening\\nOf the water below the mill\\nEre yet the summer lightning\\nShone red at the edge of the hill\\nIn the time of sun and showers,\\nOf skies half black, half clear;\\nTwixt melting snows and flowers\\nAt the poise of the flying year;\\nWhen woods flushed pink and yellow\\nIn dreams of leafy June\\nAnd days were keen or mellow\\nLike tones in a changing tune;\\nBefore the birds had broken\\nForth in their song divine,\\nOh then the word was spoken\\nThat made my darling mine.\\nA MIDSUMMER SONG\\nOh, father s gone to market-town, he was up before the\\nday,\\nAnd Jamie s after robins, and the man is making hay,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "A MIDSUMMER SONG 77\\nAnd whistling down the hollow goes the boy that minds\\nthe mill,\\nWhile mother from the kitchen- door is calling with a\\nwill:\\nPolly Polly The cows are in the corn\\nOh, where s Polly\\nFrom all the misty morning air there comes a summer\\nsound\\nA murmur as of waters from skies and trees and ground.\\nThe birds they sing upon the wing, the pigeons bill and\\ncoo,\\nAnd over hill and hollow rings again the loud halloo\\nPolly Polly The cows are in the corn\\nOh, where s Polly\\nAbove the trees the honey-bees swarm by with buzz and\\nboom,\\nAnd in the field and garden a thousand blossoms bloom.\\nWithin the farmer s meadow a brown-eyed daisy blows,\\nAnd down at the edge of the hollow a red and thorny\\nrose.\\nBut Polly Polly! The cows are in the corn\\nOh, where s Polly\\nHow strange at such a time of day the mill should stop\\nits clatter\\nThe farmer s wife is listening now and wonders what s\\nthe matter.\\nOh, wild the birds are singing in the wood and on the hill,\\nWhile whistling up the hollow goes the boy that minds\\nthe mill.\\nBut Polly Polly The cows are in the corn!\\nOh, where s Polly", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "78 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nON THE WILD ROSE TREE\\nOn the wild rose tree\\nMany buds there be,\\nYet each sunny hour\\nHath but one perfect flower.\\nThou who wouldst be wise\\nOpen wide thine eyes\\nIn each sunny hour\\nPluck the one perfect flower!\\nA SONG OF EARLY AUTUMN\\nWhen late in summer the streams run yellow,\\nBurst the bridges and spread into bays\\nWhen berries are black and peaches are mellow,\\nAnd hills are hidden by rainy haze\\nWhen the goldenrod is golden still,\\nBut the heart of the sunflower is darker and sadder\\nWhen the corn is in stacks on the slope of the hill,\\nAnd slides o er the path the striped adder.\\nWhen butterflies flutter from clover to thicket,\\nOr wave their wings on the drooping leaf;\\nWhen the breeze comes shrill with the call of the cricket,\\nGrasshoppers rasp, and rustle of sheaf.\\nWhen high in the field the fern-leaves wrinkle,\\nAnd brown is the grass where the mowers have mown;\\nWhen low in the meadow the cow-bells tinkle,\\nAnd small brooks crinkle o er stock and stone.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "THE BUILDING OF THE CHIMNEY 79\\nWhen heavy and hollow the robin s whistle\\nAnd shadows are deep in the heat of noon\\nWhen the air is white with the down o the thistle,\\nAnd the sky is red with the harvest moon\\nOh then be chary, young Robert and Mary,\\nNo time let slip, not a moment wait\\nIf the fiddle would play it must stop its tuning,\\nAnd they who would wed must be done with their\\nmooning\\nLet the churn rattle, see well to the cattle,\\nAnd pile the wood by the barn-yard gate\\nTHE BUILDING OF THE CHIMNEY\\nMy chimney is builded\\nOn a hill by the sea,\\nAt the edge of a wood\\nThat the sunset has gilded\\nSince time was begun\\nAnd the earth first was done\\nFor mine and for me\\nAnd for you, John Burroughs,\\nMy friend old and good,\\nAt the edge of a wood\\nOn a hill by the sea\\nMy chimney is builded.\\nMy chimney gives forth\\nAll its heat to the north,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "So FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWhile its right arm it reaches\\nToward the meadows and beaches,\\nAnd its left it extends\\nTo its pine-tree friends.\\nAll its heat to the north\\nMy chimney gives forth.\\nin\\nMy chimney is builded\\nOf red and gray granite\\nOf great split boulders\\nAre its thighs and its shoulders\\nIts mouth try to span it.\\nT is a nine-foot block\\nThe shelf that hangs over\\nThe stout hearth-rock.\\nThen the lines they upswell\\nLike a huge church-bell,\\nOr a bellying sail\\nIn a stiff south gale\\nWhen the ship rolls well,\\nWith a blue sky above her.\\nIV\\nMy chimney come view it,\\nAnd I 11 tell you, John Burroughs,\\nWhat is built all through it\\nFirst the derrick s shrill creak,\\nThat perturbed the still air\\nWith a cry of despair.\\nThe lone traveler who passed\\nAt the fall of the night", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "THE BUILDING OF THE CHIMNEY\\nIf he saw not its mast\\nStood still with affright\\nAt a sudden strange sound\\nHark a woman s wild shriek\\nOr the baying of a hound\\nThen the stone-hammer s clink\\nAnd the drill s sharp tinkle,\\nAnd bird-songs that sprinkle\\nTheir notes through the wood\\n(With pine odors scented),\\nOn their swift way to drink\\nA.t the spring cold and good\\nThat bubbles neath the stone\\nWhere the red chieftain tented\\nIn the days that are gone.\\nYes, twixt granite and mortar\\nMany songs, long or shorter,\\nAre imprisoned in the wall\\nAnd when red leaves shall fall,\\nComing home, all in herds,\\nFrom the air to the earth,\\nWhen I have my heart s desire,\\nAnd we sit by the hearth\\nIn the glow of the fire,\\nYou and I, John of Birds,\\nWe shall hear as they call\\nFrom the gray granite wall\\nYou shall name one and all.\\nThere s the crow s caw-cawing\\nFrom the pine-tree s height,\\nAnd the cat-bird s sawing,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "82 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nThe hissing of the adder\\nThat climbed this rocky ladder,\\nAnd the song of Bob White\\nThe robin s loud clatter,\\nThe chipmunk s chatter,\\nAnd the mellow-voiced bell\\nThat the cuckoo strikes well\\nYes, betwixt the stones and in\\nThere is built a merry din.\\nBut not all bright and gay\\nAre the songs we shall hear\\nFor as day turns to gray\\nComes a voice low and clear\\nWhippoorwill sounds his wail\\nOver hill, over dale,\\nTill the soul fills with fright.\\nT is the bird that was heard\\nOn the fields drenched with blood\\nBy the dark southern flood\\nWhen they died in the night.\\nBut you cannot split granite\\nHowsoever you may plan it,\\nWithout bringing blood\\n(There s a drop of mine there\\nOn that block four-square).\\nCertain oaths, I m aware,\\nSudden, hot, and not good\\n(May Heaven cleanse the guilt\\nIn these stone walls are built\\nWith the wind through the pine-wood blowing,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "THE BUILDING OF THE CHIMNEY 83\\nThe creak of tree on tree,\\nChild-laughter, and the lowing\\nOf the homeward-driven cattle,\\nThe sound of wild birds singing,\\nOf steel on granite ringing,\\nThe memory of battle,\\nAnd tales of the roaring sea.\\nVI\\nFor my chimney was builded\\nBy a Plymouth County sailor,\\nAn old North Sea whaler.\\nIn the warm noon spell\\nT was good to hear him tell\\nOf the great September blow\\nA dozen years ago\\nHow at dawn of the day\\nThe wind began to play,\\nTill it cut the waves flat\\nLike the brim of your hat.\\nThere was no sea about,\\nBut it blew straight out\\nTill the ship lurched over\\nBut t was quick to recover,\\nWhen, all of a stroke,\\nThe hurricane it broke.\\nGreat heavens how it roared,\\nAnd how the rain poured\\nThe thirty-fathom chain\\nDragged out all in vain.\\nWhat next the captain cried\\nTo the mate by his side\\nThen Tip Ryder he replied", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "84 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nFetch the ax no delay\\nCut the mainmast away\\nIf you want to save the ship\\nLet the mainmast rip\\nBut another said, Wait\\nAnd they did till too late.\\nOn her beam-ends she blew,\\nIn the sea half the crew-\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nStruggling back through the wrack,\\nThere to cling day and night.\\nNot a sail heaves in sight;\\nAnd, the worst, one in thirst\\n(Knows no better, the poor lad\\nDrinks salt water and goes mad.\\nEighty hours blown and tossed,\\nFive good sailors drowned and lost,\\nAnd the rest brought to shore\\nSome to sail as before;\\nNot Tip Ryder, if he starves\\nBuilding chimneys, building wharves.\\nVII\\nNow this was the manner\\nOf the building of the chimney.\\nT is a good old-timer,\\nAs you, friend John, will own.)\\nOld man Vail cut the stone\\nWilliam Ryder was the builder\\nStanford White was the planner;\\nAnd the owner and rhymer\\nIs Richard Watson Gilder.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "A RIDDLE OF LOVERS 85\\nA WORD SAID IN THE DARK\\nA word said in the dark\\nAnd hands pressed, for a token\\nNow, little maiden, mark\\nThe word that you have spoken\\nBe not your promise broken\\nHis lips upon her cheek\\nFelt tears among their kisses\\nO pardon I bespeak\\nIf for my doubting this is\\nNow all my doubting ceases.\\nA RIDDLE OF LOVERS\\nOf my fair lady s lovers there were two\\nWho loved her more than all nor she, nor they\\nGuessed which of these loved better, for one way\\nThis had of loving, that another knew.\\nOne round her neck brave arms of empire threw\\nAnd covered her with kisses where she lay;\\nThe other sat apart, nor did betray\\nSweet sorrow at that sight; but rather drew\\nHis pleasure of his lady through the soul\\nAnd sense of this one. So there truly ran\\nTwo separate loves through one embrace the whole\\nThis lady had of both, when one began\\nTo clasp her close, and win her dear lips goal.\\nNow read my lovers riddle if you can.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "86 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nBEFORE SUNRISE\\nThe winds of morning move and sing\\nThe western stars are lingering\\nIn the pale east one planet still\\nShines large above King Philip s hill\\nAnd near, in gold against the blue,\\nThe old moon, in its arms the new.\\nLo, the deep waters of the bay-\\nStir with the breath of hurrying day.\\nWake, loved one, wake and look with me\\nAcross the narrow, dawn-lit sea!\\nSuch beauty is not wholly mine\\nTill thou, dear heart, hast made it thine.\\nTHE WOODS THAT BRING THE SUNSET\\nNEAR\\nThe wind from out the west is blowing;\\nThe homeward-wandering cows are lowing\\nDark grow the pine- woods, dark and drear\\nThe woods that bring the sunset near.\\nWhen o er wide seas the sun declines,\\nFar off its fading glory shines,\\nFar off, sublime, and full of fear,\\nThe pine-woods bring the sunset near.\\nThis house that looks to east, to west,\\nThis, dear one, is our home, our rest\\nYonder the stormy sea, and here\\nThe woods that bring the sunset near.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "SUNSET FROM THE TRAIN 87\\nSUNSET FROM THE TRAIN\\nBut then the sunset smiled,\\nSmiled once and turned toward dark,\\nAbove the distant, wavering line of trees that filed\\nAlong the horizon s edge\\nLike hooded monks that hark\\nThrough evening air\\nThe call to prayer\\nSmiled once, and faded slow, slow, slow away\\nWhen, like a changing dream, the long cloud-wedge,\\nBrown-gray,\\nGrew saffron underneath and, ere I knew,\\nThe interspace, green-blue\\nThe whole, illimitable, western, skyey shore,\\nThe tender, human, silent sunset smiled once more.\\n11\\nThee, absent loved one, did I think on now,\\nWondering if thy deep brow\\nIn dreams of me were lifted to the skies,\\nWhere, by our far sea-home, the sunlight dies\\nIf thou didst stand alone,\\nWatching the day pass slowly, slow, as here,\\nBut closer and more dear,\\nBeyond the meadow and the long, familiar line\\nOf blackening pine;\\nWhen lo that second smile; dear heart, it was thine\\nown.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "88 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAFTER SORROW S NIGHT\\nAfter sorrow s night\\nDawned the morning bright.\\nIn dewy woods I heard\\nA golden-throated bird,\\nAnd Love, love, love, it sang,\\nAnd Love, love, love.\\nEvening shadows fell\\nIn our happy dell.\\nFrom glimmering woods I heard\\nA golden-throated bird,\\nAnd Love, love, love, it sang,\\nAnd Love, love, love.\\nOh, the summer night\\nStarry was and bright.\\nIn the dark woods I heard\\nA golden-throated bird,\\nAnd Love, love, love, it sang,\\nAnd Love, love, love.\\nA NOVEMBER CHILD\\nNovember winds, blow mild\\nOn this new-born child\\nSpirit of the autumn wood,\\nMake her gentle, make her good\\nStill attend her,\\nAnd befriend her,\\nFill her days with warmth and color\\nKeep her safe from winter s dolor.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "CRADLE SONG 89\\nOn thy bosom\\nHide this blossom\\nSafe from summer s rain and thunder\\nWhen those eyes of light and wonder\\nTire at last of earthly places\\nFull of years and full of graces,\\nThen, O then\\nTake her back to heaven again\\nAT NIGHT\\nThe sky is dark, and dark the bay below\\nSave where the midnight city s pallid glow\\nLies like a lily white\\nOn the black pool of night.\\nO rushing steamer, hurry on thy way\\nAcross the swirling Kills and gusty bay,\\nTo where the eddying tide\\nStrikes hard the city s side\\nFor there, between the river and the sea,\\nBeneath that glow, the lily s heart to me,\\nA sleeping mother mild,\\nAnd by her breast a child\\nCRADLE SONG\\nIn the embers shining bright\\nA garden grows for thy delight,\\nWith roses yellow, red, and white.\\nBut, O my child, beware, beware!\\nTouch not the blossoms blowing there,\\nFor every rose a thorn doth bear.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "90 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nNINE YEARS\\nNine years to heaven had flown,\\nAnd June came, with June s token\\nThe wild rose that had known\\nA maiden s silence broken,\\nT was thus the lover spoke,\\nAnd thus she leaned and listened\\n(Below, the billows broke,\\nThe blue sea shook and glistened,)\\nWe have been happy, Love,\\nThrough bright and stormy weather,\\nHappy all hope above,\\nFor we have been together.\\nTo meet, to love, to wed,\\nJoy without stint or measure,\\nThis was our lot, he said,\\nTo find untouched our treasure\\nBut had some blindfold fate\\nBound each unto another\\nTo turn from Heaven s gate,\\nEach heart-throb hide and smother\\nO dear and faithful heart\\nIf thus had we been fated\\nTo meet, to know, to part\\nToo early, falsely, mated\\nWere this our bitter plight,\\nAh, could we have dissembled\\nHer cheek turned pale with fright\\nShe hid her face, and trembled.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "FATE 91\\nBACK FROM THE DARKNESS TO THE\\nLIGHT AGAIN\\nBack from the darkness to the light again\\nNot from the darkness, Love, for hadst thou lain\\nWithin the shadowy portal of the tomb,\\nThy light had warmed the darkness into bloom.\\nPART II\\nFATE\\nI FLUNG a stone into a grassy field;\\nHow many tiny creatures there may yield\\n(I thought) their petty lives through that rude shock\\nTo me a pebble, t is to them a rock\\nGigantic, cruel, fraught with sudden death.\\nPerhaps it crushed an ant, perhaps its breath\\nAlone tore down a white and glittering palace,\\nAnd the small spider damns the giant s malice\\nWho wrought the wreck blasted his pretty art!\\nWho knows what day some saunterer, light of heart,\\nAn idle wanderer through the fields of space,\\nLarge-limbed, big-brained, to whom our puny race\\nSeems small as insects, one whose footstep jars\\nOn some vast world-orb islanded by stars,\\nMay fling a stone and crush our earth to bits,\\nAnd all that men have builded by their wits\\nAh, what a loss you say our bodies go,\\nBut not our temples, statues, and the glow\\nOf glorious canvases and not the pages\\nOur poets have illumed through myriad ages.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "92 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWhat boots the insect s loss Another day-\\nWill see the selfsame ant-hill and the play\\nOf light on dainty web the same. But blot\\nAll human art from this terrestrial plot,\\nSomething indeed would pass that nevermore\\nWould light the universe as once before\\nThe spider s work is not original,\\nYou hold, but what of ours I fear that all\\nWe do is just the same thing over and over.\\nTake Life you have the woman and her lover\\n*T is old as Eden nought is new in that\\nTake Building, and you reach ere long the flat\\nNile desert sands, by way of France, Rome, Greece.\\nAnd there is poetry our bards increase\\nIn numbers, not in sweetness, not in force,\\nSince he, sublimest poet of this globe,\\nForgotten now, poured forth the chant of Job\\nWhere Man with the Eternal holds discourse.\\nNo, no The forms may change, but even they\\nCome round again. Could we but truly scan it,\\nWe d find in the heavens some little, busy planet,\\nWhence all we are was borrowed. If to-day\\nThe imagined giant flung his ponderous stone,\\nAnd we and all our far-stretched schemes were done,\\nHis were a scant remorse and short-lived trouble,\\nLike mine for those small creatures in the stubble.\\nWE MET UPON THE CROWDED WAY\\nWe met upon the crowded way;\\nWe spoke and passed. How bright the day", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "THE WHITE AND THE RED ROSE 93\\nTurned from that moment, for a light\\nDid shine from her to make it bright\\nAnd then I asked Can such as she\\nFrom life be blotted utterly\\nThe thoughts from those clear eyes that dawn\\nDown to the ground can they be drawn\\nAmong the mighty who can find\\nOne that hath a perfect mind\\nAngry, jealous, cursed by feuds,\\nThey own the sway of fatal moods\\nBut thou dost perfect seem to me\\nIn thy divine simplicity.\\nThough from the heavens the stars be wrenched,\\nThy light, dear maid, shall not be quenched.\\nGentle, and true, and pure, and free\\nThe gods will not abandon thee\\nTHE WHITE AND THE RED ROSE\\nIn Heaven s happy bowers\\nThere blossom two flowers,\\nOne with fiery glow\\nAnd one as white as snow\\nWhile lo before them stands,\\nWith pale and trembling hands,\\nA spirit who must choose\\nOne, and one refuse.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "94 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nOh, tell me of these flowers\\nThat bloom in heavenly bowers,\\nOne with fiery glow,\\nAnd one as white as snow\\nAnd tell me who is this\\nIn Heaven s holy bliss\\nWho trembles and who cries\\nLike a mortal soul that dies\\nin\\nThese blossoms two\\nWet with heavenly dew\\nThe Gentle Heart is one,\\nAnd one is Beauty s own\\nAnd the spirit here that stands,\\nWith pale and trembling hands,\\nBefore to-morrow s morn\\nWill be a child new-born,\\nWill be a mortal maiden\\nWith earthly sorrows laden\\nBut of these shining flowers\\nThat bloom in heavenly bowers,\\nTo-day she still may choose\\nOne, and one refuse.\\nIV\\nWill she pluck the crimson flower\\nAnd win Beauty s dower\\nWill she choose the better part\\nAnd gain the Gentle Heart", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "A WOMAN S THOUGHT 95\\nAwhile she weeping waits\\nWithin those pearly gates\\nAlas the mortal maiden\\nWith earthly sorrow laden;\\nHer tears afresh they start\\nShe has chosen the Gentle Heart.\\nAnd now the spirit goes,\\nIn her breast the snow-white rose.\\nWhen hark a voice that calls\\nWithin the garden walls\\nThou didst choose the better part,\\nThou hast won the Gentle Heart\\nLo, now to thee is given\\nThe red rose of Heaven.\\nA WOMAN S THOUGHT\\nI am a woman therefore I may not\\nCall to him, cry to him,\\nFly to him,\\nBid him delay not\\nThen when he comes to me, I must sit quiet\\nStill as a stone\\nAll silent and cold.\\nIf my heart riot\\nCrush and defy it\\nShould I grow bold,\\nSay one dear thing to him,\\nAll my life fling to him,\\nCling to him", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "$6 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWhat to atone\\nIs enough for my sinning\\nThis were the cost to me,\\nThis were my winning\\nThat he were lost to me.\\nNot as a lover\\nAt last if he part from me,\\nTearing my heart from me,\\nHurt beyond cure\\nCalm and demure\\nThen must I hold me,\\nIn myself fold me,\\nLest he discover;\\nShowing no sign to him\\nBy look of mine to him\\nWhat he has been to me\\nHow my heart turns to him,\\nFollows him, yearns to him,\\nPrays him to love me.\\nPity me, lean to me,\\nThou God above me\\nTHE RIVER INN\\nThe night was black and drear\\nOf the last day of the year.\\nTwo guests to the river inn\\nCame, from the wide world s bound\\nOne with clangor and din,\\nThe other without a sound.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "THE HOMESTEAD 97\\nNow hurry, servants and host\\nGet the best that your cellars boast.\\nWhite be the sheets and fine,\\nAnd the fire on the hearthstone bright;\\nPile the wood, and spare not the wine,\\nAnd call him at morning-light.\\nBut where is the silent guest\\nIn what chamber shall she rest\\nIn this Should she not go higher\\nT is damp, and the fire is gone.\\nYou need not kindle the fire,\\nYou need not call her at dawn.\\nNext morn he sallied forth\\nOn his journey to the North.\\nOh, bright the sunlight shone\\nThrough boughs that the breezes stir\\nBut for her was lifted a stone\\nUnder the churchyard fir.\\nTHE HOMESTEAD\\n1\\nHere stays the house, here stay the selfsame places,\\nHere the white lilacs and the buttonwoods\\nHere are the pine-groves, there the river-floods,\\nAnd there the threading brook that interlaces\\nGreen meadow-bank with meadow-bank the same.\\nThe melancholy nightly chorus came\\nLong, long ago from the same pool, and yonder", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "98 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nStark poplars lift in the same twilight air\\nTheir ancient shadows nearer still, and fonder,\\nThe black-heart cherry-tree s gaunt branches bare\\nRasp on the same old window where I ponder.\\nAnd we, the only living, only pass\\nWe come and go, whither and whence we know not.\\nFrom birth to bound the same house keeps, alas\\nNew lives as gently as the old there show not\\nAmong the haunts that each had thought his own\\nThe looks that partings bring to human faces.\\nThe black-heart there, that heard my earliest moan,\\nAnd yet shall hear my last, like all these places\\nI love so well, unloving lives from child\\nTo child; from morning joy to evening sorrow\\nUntouched by joy, by anguish undefiled\\nAll one the generations gone, and new\\nAll one dark yesterday and bright to-morrow\\nTo the old tree s insensate sympathy\\nAll one the morning and the evening dew\\nMy far, forgotten ancestor and I.\\nAT FOUR SCORE\\nThis is the house she was born in, full four score years\\nago,\\nAnd here she is living still, bowed and ailing, but clinging\\nStill to this wonted life like an ancient and blasted\\noak-tree,\\nWhose dying roots yet clasp the earth with an iron hold.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "AT FOUR SCORE 99\\nThis is the house she was born in, and yonder across the\\nbay\\nIs the home her lover built, for her and for him and\\ntheir children;\\nDaily she watched it grow, from dawn to the evening\\ntwilight,\\nAs it rose on the orchard hill, mid the springtime\\nshowers and bloom.\\nThere is the village church, its steeple over the trees\\nRises and shows the clock she has watched since the\\nday it was started\\nOh, many a year ago, how many she cannot remember.\\nNow solemnly over the water rings out the evening hour.\\nAnd there in that very church, though, alas, how be-\\ndizened, and changed\\nThey ve painted it up, she says, in their queer, new,\\nmodern fashion,\\nThere on a morning in June, she gave her hand to her\\nhusband\\nHer heart it was his (she told him) long years and years\\nbefore.\\nNow here she sits at the window, gazing out on steeple\\nand hill;\\nAll but the houses are gone, the church, and the trees,\\nand the houses\\nAll, all have gone long since, parents, and husband, and\\nchildren\\nAnd herself she thinks, at times, she too has vanished\\nand gone.\\n*?Q.", "height": "3469", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "ioo FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nNo, it cannot be she who stood in the church that\\nmorning in June,\\nNor she who felt at her breast the lips of a child in the\\ndarkness\\nBut hark in the gathering dusk comes a low, quick moan\\nof anguish\\nAh, it is she indeed, who has lived, who has loved, and\\nlost.\\nFor she thinks of a wintry night, when her last was taken\\naway,\\nForty years this very month, the last, the fairest, the\\ndearest\\nAll gone ah, yes, it is she who has loved, who has\\nlost, and suffered,\\nShe and none other it is, left alone in her sorrow and pain.\\nStill with its sapless roots, that stay though the branches\\nhave dropped\\nHave withered, and fallen, and gone, their strength and\\ntheir glory forgotten\\nStill with the life that remains, silent, and faithful, and\\nsteadfast,\\nThrough sunshine and bending storm clings the oak to\\nits mother- earth.\\nJOHN CARMAN\\nJohn Carman of Carmeltown\\nWorked hard through the livelong day;\\nHe drove his awl and he snapped his thread\\nAnd he had but little to say.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "JOHN CARMAN IOI\\nHe had but little to say\\nExcept to a neighbor s child;\\nThree summers old she was, and her eyes\\nHad a look that was deep and wild.\\nHer hair was heavy and brown\\nLike clouds in a starry night.\\nShe came and sat by the cobbler s bench\\nAnd his soul was filled with delight.\\nNo kith nor kin had he\\nAnd he never went gadding about\\nA strange, shy man, the people said\\nThey could not make him out.\\nAnd some of them shook their heads\\nAnd would never tell what they d heard.\\nBut he drove his awl and snapped his thread\\nAnd he always kept his word\\nAnd the little child that knew him\\nBetter than all the rest,\\nShe threw her arms around his neck\\nAnd went to sleep on his breast.\\nOne day in that dreadful summer\\nWhen children died by the score,\\nJohn Carman glanced from his work and saw\\nHer mother there at the door.\\nHe knew by the look on her face\\nAnd his own turned deathly white\\nHe rose from his bench and followed her out\\nAnd watched by the child that night.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "102 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nHe tended her day and night\\nHe watched by her night and day.\\nHe saw the cruel pain in her eyes\\nHe saw her lips turn gray.\\nThe day that the child was buried\\nJohn Carman went back to his last,\\nAnd the neighbors said that for weeks and weeks\\nNot a word his clenched lips passed.\\nHe takes it hard, they gossiped,\\nPoor man, he s lacking in wit\\nI 11 drop in to-day, said Deacon Gray,\\nAnd comfort him up a bit.\\nSo Deacon Gray dropped in\\nWith a kind and neighborly air,\\nAnd before he left he knelt on the floor\\nAnd wrestled with God in prayer.\\nAnd he said O Lord, thou hast stricken\\nThis soul in its babyhood\\nIn Thy own way, we beseech and pray,\\nBring forth from evil good.\\nin\\nThat night the fire-bells rang\\nAnd the flames shot up to the sky,\\nAnd into the street as pale as a sheet\\nThe town -folk flock and cry.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "DRINKING SONG 103\\nThe bells ring loud and long,\\nThe flames leap high and higher,\\nThe rattling engines come too late\\nThe old First Church is on fire\\nAnd lo and behold in the crimson glare\\nThey see John Carman stand\\nA look of mirth on his iron lips\\nAnd a blazing torch in his hand.\\nYou say it was He who killed her\\n(His voice had a fearful sound)\\nI d have you know, who love him so,\\nI ve burned his house to the ground.\\nJohn Carman died in prison,\\nIn the madman s cell, they say\\nAnd from his crime, that I ve told in rhyme,\\nHeaven cleanse his soul, I pray.\\nDRINKING SONG\\nThou who lov st and art forsaken,\\nDidst believe, and wert mistaken,\\nFrom thy dream thou wilt not waken\\nWhe?i Death thee shall call.\\nLike are infidel, believer,\\nThe deceived, and the deceiver,\\nWhen the grave hides all.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "104 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nWhat if thou be saint or sinner,\\nCrooked graybeard, straight beginner,\\nWith empty paunch, or jolly dinner,\\nWhen Death thee shall call.\\nAll alike are rich and richer,\\nKing with crown, and cross-legged stitcher,\\nWhen the grave hides all.\\nin\\nHope not thou to live hereafter\\nIn men s memories and laughter,\\nWhen, twixt hearth and ringing rafter,\\nDeath thee shall call.\\nFor we both shall be forgotten,\\nFriend, when thou and I are rotten\\nAnd the grave hides all.\\nTHE VOYAGER\\ni\\nFriend, why goest thou forth\\nWhen ice-hills drift from the north\\nAnd crush together\\nThe Voice that me doth call\\nHeeds not the ice-hill s fall,\\nNor wind, nor weather.\\nii\\nBut, friend, the night is black;\\nBehold the driving wrack\\nAnd wild seas under", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "A LAMENT 105\\nMy straight and narrow bark\\nFears not the threatening dark,\\nNor storm, nor thunder.\\nin\\nBut oh, thy children dear\\nThy wife she is not here,\\nI haste to bring her\\nNo, no, it is too late\\nHush, hush I may not wait,\\nNor weep, nor linger.\\nIV\\nHark Who is he that knocks\\nWith slow and dreadful shocks\\nThe walls to sever\\nIt is my Master s call,\\nI go, whate er befall\\nFarewell forever.\\nA LAMENT\\nFOR THE DEAD OF THE JEANNETTE BROUGHT\\nHOME ON THE FRISIA\\nO gates of ice long have ye held our loved ones.\\nYe Cruel how could ye keep from us them for whom\\nour hearts yearned our dear ones, our fathers, our chil-\\ndren, our brothers, our lovers.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "106 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nCold and Sleet, Darkness and Ice hard have ye held\\nthem ye would not let them go.\\nTheir hands ye have bound fast; their feet ye have\\ndetained; and well have ye laid hold upon the hearts\\nof our loved ones.\\nO silent Arctic Night thou hast wooed them from us.\\nO secret of the white and unknown world too strong\\nhast thou been for us we were as nothing to thee thou\\nhast drawn them from us thou wouldst not let them go.\\nThe long day passed thou wouldst not let them go.\\nThe long, long night came and went; thou wouldst\\nnot let them go.\\nO thou insatiate What to thee are youth, and life,\\nand hope, and love\\nFor thou art Death, not Life thou art Despair, not\\nHope.\\nNought to thee the rush of youthful blood; nought\\nto thee the beauty and strength of our loved ones.\\nThe breath of their bodies was not sweet to thee\\nthey loved thee, and thou lovedst not them.\\nThey followed thee, thou didst not look upon them\\nbut still, O thou inviolate still did they follow thee.\\nThee did they follow through storm, through perils of\\nthe ice, and of the unknown darkness.\\nThe sharp spears of the frost they feared not; the\\nterrors of death they feared not. For thee, for thee,\\nfor thee, not for us only that they might look upon\\nthy face\\nAll these they endured for thee the thought of us\\nwhom yet they loved, this also they endured for thee.\\nFor thou art beautiful, beyond the beauty of woman.\\nIn thy hair are the stars of night. Thou wrappest\\nabout thee garments of fire that burn not, and are\\nnever quenched;", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "A LAMENT 1 07\\nWhen thou movest they are moved; when thou\\nbreathest they tremble.\\nYea, awful art thou in thy beauty with white fingers\\nbeckoning in mists and shadows of the frozen sea;\\ndrawing to thee the hearts of heroes.\\nLong, long have they tarried in thy gates, O North\\nBut now thou hast given them up. Lo, they come\\nto us once more our beloved, our only ones\\nO dearest, why have ye stayed so long\\nWith ye, night and day have come and gone, but\\nwith us there was night only.\\nBut no, we will not reproach ye, hearts of our\\nhearts, dearest and best our fathers, our children, our\\nbrothers, our lovers\\nCome back to us! Behold our arms are open for\\nyou ye are ours ye have returned unto us ye shall\\nnever go hence again.\\nBut why are ye silent, why do ye not stir, why do\\nye not speak to us, O beloved ones\\nWhite are your cheeks like snow; your eyes they\\ndo not look upon us.\\nSo long ye have been gone, and is this your joy to\\nsee us once more\\nLo do we not welcome ye Are not our souls\\nglad? Do not our tears, long kept, fall upon your\\nfaces\\nOr do ye but sleep well, after those hard and weary\\nlabors O now awaken, for ye shall take rest and\\npleasure here are your homes and kindred\\nListen, beloved here is your sister, here is your\\nbrother, here is your lover", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "io8 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIII\\nThey will not hearken to our voices.\\nThey are still their eyes look not upon us.\\ninsatiate! O Secret of the white and unknown\\nworld, cruel indeed thou art\\nThou hast sent back to us our best beloved; their\\nbodies thou hast rendered up, but their spirits thou\\nhast taken away from us forever.\\nIn life thou didst hold them from us and in death,\\nin death they are thine.\\nNew York, February 20, 1884.\\nILL TIDINGS\\n(the studio concert)\\nIn the long studio from whose towering walls\\nGreek Pheidias beams, and Angelo appalls,\\nEager the listening, downcast faces throng\\nWhile violins their piercing tones prolong.\\nAt times I know not if I see, or hear,\\nYon statue s smile, or some not sorrowing tear\\nDown-falling on the surface of the stream\\nThat music pours across my waking dream.\\nAh, is it then a dream that while repeat\\nThose chords, like strokes of silver- shod light feet,\\nAnd the great Master s music marches on\\n1 hear the horses of the Parthenon\\nBut all to-day seems vague, unreal, far,\\nWith fear and discord in the dearest strain,\\nFor neath yon slowly-sinking western star\\nOne that I love lies on her bed of pain.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "CONGRESS: 1878 109\\nA NEW WORLD\\nI know, he said,\\nThe thunder and the lightning have passed by\\nAnd all the earth is black, and burnt, and dead\\nBut, friend, the grass will grow again, the flowers\\nAgain will bloom, the summer birds will sing,\\nAnd the all-healing sun will shine once more.\\nBlind prophecy, she answered in her woe.\\nYet still, as time wore on, the prophet s words\\nCame true, but not all true. (So shall it be\\nWith all who here may suffer mortal loss.)\\nEre long the grass, the flowers, the birds, the sun\\nOnce more made bright the bleak and desolate earth\\nThey came once more, those joys of other days;\\nShe felt them, moved among them, and was glad.\\nGlad-\u00e2\u0080\u0094 glad! O mocking word! They came once\\nmore,\\nBut not the same to her. Familiar they\\nAs a remembered dream, and beautiful\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nBut changed, all changed, the whole world changed\\nforever.\\nPART III\\nCONGRESS: 1878\\nT A WAS in the year when mutterings, loud and deep,\\nJL Were heard in all the dark, distracted land,\\nAnd grave men questioned Can the state withstand\\nThe shock and strain to come Oh, will she keep\\nFirm her four walls, should the wild creature leap", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "no FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nTo ruin and ravish Will her pillars planned\\nBy the great dead, tremble to either hand\\nThe dead would heaven they might awake from\\nsleep\\nHaply (I thought) our Congress still may hold\\nOne voice of power when lo upon the blast\\nA sound like jackals ravening to and fro.\\nGreat God And has it come to this at last\\nSuch noise, such shame, where once, not long ago,\\nThe pure and wise their living thoughts outrolled.\\nREFORM\\nOh, how shall I help to right the world that is going\\nwrong\\nAnd what can I do to hurry the promised time of peace\\nThe day of work is short and the night of sleep is long\\nAnd whether to pray or preach, or whether to sing a\\nsong,\\nTo plow in my neighbor s field, or to seek the golden\\nfleece,\\nOr to sit with my hands in my lap, and wish that ill\\nwould cease\\nii\\nI think, sometimes, it were best just to let the Lord alone;\\nI am sure some people forget He was here before they\\ncame;\\nThough they say it is all for His glory, t is a good deal\\nmore for their own,\\nThat they peddle their petty schemes, and blate and\\nbabble and groan.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "MEMORIAL DAY III\\nI sometimes think it were best, and a man were little to\\nblame,\\nShould he pass on his silent way nor mix with the noisy-\\nshame.\\nMEMORIAL DAY\\nShe saw the bayonets flashing in the sun,\\nThe flags that proudly waved she heard the bugles\\ncalling\\nShe saw the tattered banners falling\\nAbout the broken staffs, as one by one\\nThe remnant of the mighty army passed\\nAnd at the last\\nFlowers for the graves of those whose fight was done.\\nii\\nShe heard the tramping of ten thousand feet\\nAs the long line swept round the crowded square\\nShe heard the incessant hum\\nThat filled the warm and blossom- scented air\\nThe shrilling fife, the roll and throb of drum,\\nThe happy laugh, the cheer. Oh glorious and meet\\nTo honor thus the dead,\\nWho chose the better part,\\nWho for their country bled\\nThe dead Great God she stood there in the street,\\nLiving, yet dead in soul and mind and heart\\nWhile far away\\nHis grave was decked with flowers by strangers hands\\nto-day.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "H2 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nTHE NORTH TO THE SOUTH\\nLand of the South, whose stricken heart and brow\\nBring grief to eyes that erewhile only knew\\nFor their own loss to sorrow, spurn not thou\\nThese tribute tears ah, we have suffered too.\\nNew Orleans, 1885.\\nTHE BURIAL OF GRANT\\n(NEW YORK, AUGUST 8, 1885)\\nI\\nYe living soldiers of the mighty war,\\nOnce more from roaring cannon and the drums\\nAnd bugles blown at morn, the summons comes\\nForget the halting limb, each wound and scar\\nOnce more your Captain calls to you;\\nCome to his last review\\n11\\nAnd come ye, too, bright spirits of the dead,\\nYe who flamed heavenward from the embattled field\\nAnd ye whose harder fate it was to yield\\nLife from the loathful prison or anguished bed\\nDear ghosts come join your comrades here\\nBeside this sacred bier.\\nin\\nNor be ye absent, ye immortal band,\\nWarriors of ages past, and our own age,\\nWho drew the sword for right, and not in rage,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "THE BURIAL OF GRANT 113\\nMade war that peace might live in all the land,\\nNor ever struck one vengeful blow,\\nBut helped the fallen foe.\\nIV\\nAnd fail not ye, but, ah, ye falter not\\nTo join his army of the dead and living,\\nYe who once felt his might, and his forgiving;\\nBrothers, whom more in love than hate he smote.\\nFor all his countrymen make room\\nBy our great hero s tomb\\nCome soldiers not to battle as of yore,\\nBut come to weep ay, shed your noblest tears\\nFor lo, the stubborn chief, who knew not fears,\\nLies cold at last, ye shall not see him more.\\nHow long grim Death he fought and well,\\nThat poor, lean frame doth tell.\\nVI\\nAll s over now here let our Captain rest,\\nSilent amid the blare of praise and blame\\nHere let him rest, while never rests his fame;\\nHere in the city s heart he loved the best,\\nAnd where our sons his tomb may see\\nTo make them brave as he;\\nVII\\nAs brave as he he on whose iron arm\\nOur Greatest leaned, our gentlest and most wise\\nLeaned when all other help seemed mocking lies,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "114 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWhile this one soldier checked the tide of harm,\\nAnd they together saved the state,\\nAnd made it free and great.\\nTHE DEAD COMRADE\\nAt the burial of Grant, a bugler stood forth and sounded taps.\\nI\\nCome, soldiers, arouse ye\\nAnother has gone\\nLet us bury our comrade,\\nHis battles are done.\\nHis sun it is set\\nHe was true, he was brave,\\nHe feared not the grave,\\nThere is nought to regret.\\nBring music and banners\\nAnd wreaths for his bier\\nNo fault of the fighter\\nThat Death conquered here.\\nBring him home ne er to rove,\\nBear him home to his rest,\\nAnd over his breast\\nFold the flag of his love.\\nin\\nGreat Captain of battles,\\nWe leave him with thee\\nWhat was wrong, O forgive it\\nHis spirit make free.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "THE PRESIDENT 115\\nSound taps, and away\\nOut lights, and to bed\\nFarewell, soldier dead\\nFarewell for a day.\\nON THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM\\nLINCOLN\\nThis bronze doth keep the very form and mold\\nOf our great martyr s face. Yes, this is he:\\nThat brow all wisdom, all benignity;\\nThat human, humorous mouth those cheeks that\\nhold\\nLike some harsh landscape all the summer s gold\\nThat spirit fit for sorrow, as the sea\\nFor storms to beat on the lone agony\\nThose silent, patient lips too well foretold.\\nYes, this is he who ruled a world of men\\nAs might some prophet of the elder day\\nBrooding above the tempest and the fray\\nWith deep-eyed thought and more than mortal ken.\\nA power was his beyond the touch of art\\nOr arm6d strength his pure and mighty heart.\\nTHE PRESIDENT\\nNot his to guide the ship while tempests blow,\\nWar s billows burst, and glorious thunders beat\\nNot his the joy to see an alien foe\\nFly down the dreadful valley of defeat", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "n6 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nNot his the fame of that great soul and tried,\\nWho conquered civil peace by arms and love\\nNor his the emprise of one who lately died\\nHand-clasped with foes, who weep his tomb above.\\nBut this his task, all passionless, unsplendid,\\nTo teach, in public place, a nobler creed\\nTo build a wall, alone or well befriended,\\nGainst the base partizan s ignoble greed.\\nOr will he fail, or triumph History lays\\nA moment down her pen. A nation waits and\\nprays.\\nPART IV\\nESSIPOFF\\ni\\nWHAT is her playing like\\nI ask while dreaming here under her music s\\npower.\\nT is like the leaves of the dark passion-flower\\nWhich grows on a strong vine whose roots, oh deep\\nthey sink,\\nDeep in the ground, that flower s pure life to drink.\\nii\\nWhat is her playing like\\nT is like a bird\\nWho, singing in a wild wood, never knows\\nThat its lone melody is heard\\nBy wandering mortal, who forgets his heavy woes.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "ADELE AUS DER OHE 1 17\\nADELE AUS DER OHE)\\n(Liszt)\\n1\\nWhat is her playing like\\nT is like the wind in wintry northern valleys.\\nA dream-pause; then it rallies\\nAnd once more bends the pine-tops, shatters\\nThe ice-crags, whitely scatters\\nThe spray along the paths of avalanches,\\nStartles the blood, and every visage blanches.\\n11\\nHalf-sleeps the wind above a swirling pool\\nThat holds the trembling shadow of the trees\\nWhere waves too wildly rush to freeze\\nThough all the air is cool\\nAnd hear, oh hear, while musically call\\nWith nearer tinkling sounds, or distant roar,\\nVoices of fall on fall\\nAnd now a swelling blast, that dies; and now no\\nmore, no more.\\n(Chopin)\\n1\\nAh, what celestial art I\\nAnd can sweet thoughts become pure tone and float,\\nAll music, into the tranced mind and heart\\nHer hand scarce stirs the singing, wiry metal\\nHear from the wild-rose fall each perfect petal!", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "n8 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAnd can we have, on earth, of heaven the whole\\nHeard thoughts the soul of inexpressible thought;\\nRoses of sound\\nThat strew melodious leaves upon the silent ground;\\nAnd music that is music s very soul,\\nWithout one touch of earth,\\nToo tender, even, for sorrow, and too bright for mirth\\nMODJESKA\\nThere are four sisters known to mortals well,\\nWhose names are Joy and Sorrow, Death and Love\\nThis last it was who did my footsteps move\\nTo where the other deep-eyed sisters dwell.\\nTo-night, or ere yon painted curtain fell,\\nThese, one by one, before my eyes did rove\\nThrough the brave mimic world that Shakespeare wove.\\nLady thy art, thy passion were the spell\\nThat held me, and still holds for thou dost show,\\nWith those most high each in his sovereign art,\\nShakespeare supreme, and Tuscan Angelo,\\nGreat art and passion are one. Thine too the part\\nTo prove, that still for him the laurels grow\\nWho reaches through the mind to pluck the heart.\\nFOR AN ALBUM\\n(to be read one hundred years after)\\nA century s summer breezes shook\\nThe maple shadows on the grass\\nSince she who owned this ancient book\\nFrom the green world to heaven did pass.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "PORTO FINO li\\nBeside a northern lake she grew,\\nA wild-flower on its craggy walls\\nHer eyes were mingled gray and blue,\\nLike waves where summer sunlight falls.\\nCheerful from mom to evening-close,\\nNo humblest work, no prayer forgot\\nYet who of woman born but knows\\nThe sorrows of our mortal lot\\nAnd she too suffered, though the wound\\nWas hidden from the general gaze,\\nAnd most from those who thus had found\\nAn added burden for their days.\\nShe had no special grace, nor art;\\nHer riches not in banks were kept\\nHer treasure was a gentle heart;\\nHer skill to comfort those who wept.\\nNot without foes her days were passed,\\nFor quick her burning scorn was fanned.\\nHer friends were many least and last,\\nA poet from a distant land.\\nPORTO FINO\\nI know a girl she is a poet s daughter,\\nAnd many-mooded as a poet s day,\\nAnd changing as the Mediterranean water;\\nWe walked together by an emerald bay,\\nSo deep, so green, so promontory-hidden\\nThat the lost mariner might peer in vain\\nThrough storms, to find where he erewhile had ridden,\\nSafe-sheltered from the wild and windy main.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "120 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nDown the high stairs we clambered just to rest a\\nCool moment in the church s antique shade.\\nHow gay the aisles and altars T was the festa\\nOf brave Saint George who the old dragon laid.\\nHow bright the little port The red flags fluttered,\\nLoud clanged the bells, and loud the children s glee;\\nWhat though some distant, unseen storm-cloud muttered,\\nAnd waves breathed big along the weedy quay.\\nWe climbed the hill whose rising cleaves asunder\\nGreen bay and blue immeasurable sea\\nWe heard the breakers at its bases thunder\\nWe heard the priests harsh chant soar wild and free.\\nThen through the graveyard s straight and narrow portal\\nOur journey led. How dark the place How strange\\nIts steep, black mountain wall as if the immortal\\nSpirit could thus be stayed its skyward range\\nBeyond, the smoky olives clothed the mountains\\nIn green that grew through many a moon-lit night.\\nBelow, down cleft and chasm leaped snowy fountains\\nAbove, the sky was warm, and blue, and bright\\nWhen, sudden, from out a fair and smiling heaven\\nBurst forth the rain, quick as a trumpet-blare\\nYet still the Italian sun each drop did leaven,\\nAnd turned the rain to diamonds in the air.\\nSo passed the day in shade, and shower, and sun,\\nLike thine own moods, thou sweet and changeful\\nmaiden\\nGreat Heaven deal kindly with this gentle one,\\nNor let her soul too heavily be laden.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "IMPROMPTUS 121\\nTO F. F. C.\\n(on the pansy, her class flower)\\nThis is the flower of thought\\nTake it, thou empress of a land\\nOf true hearts, from a loyal subject s hand;\\nAnd with it nought,\\nO nought beneath life s ever-brightening dome\\nOf sad remembrance May it bring\\nDreams of joy only, and of happy days\\nBackward and still to come\\nOf birds that sang last eve, and still shall sing\\nIn dawns of morrows only joyful lays.\\nOr yet, if thou shouldst go\\nNot utterly unscathed of mortal woe\\nThy blackest hour be touched by memory s gold,\\nAs is this flower s leaf. Then shalt thou hold\\nEver a young heart in thee, ever as now\\nA look of quenchless youth beneath thy peerless brow.\\nIMPROMPTUS\\nI. ART\\nFollowing the sun, westward the march of power\\nThe Rose of Might blooms in our new- world mart\\nBut see, just bursting forth from bud to flower,\\nA late, slow growth, the fairer Rose of Art.\\nII. TO A SOUTHERN GIRL\\nSweet rose that bloomed on the red field of war,\\nThink not too sadly of the dreadful Past\\nAre not old foes new friends not least, though last,\\nOne whose far home lies neath yon Northern star", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "122 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIII. FOR A FAN\\nEach of us answers to a call;\\nMaster or mistress have we all.\\nI belong to lovely Anne\\nDost thou not wish thou wert a fan\\nThus to be treasured, thus to be prest,\\nPleasuring thus, and thus caressed\\nPART V\\nMUSIC AND WORDS\\nTHIS day I heard such music that I thought\\nHath human speech the power thus to be wrought,\\nInto such melody, pure, sensuous sound,\\nInto such mellow, murmuring mazes caught\\nCan words (I said), when these keen tones are bound\\n(Silent, except in memory of this hour)\\nCan human words alone usurp the power\\nOf trembling strings that thrill to the very soul,\\nAnd of this ecstasy bring back the whole\\nAh no, t was answered in my inmost heart,)\\nUnto itself sufficient is each art,\\nAnd each doth utter what none other can\\nSome hidden mood of the large soul of man.\\nAh, think not thou with words well interweaved\\nTo wake the tones wherein the viol grieved\\nWith its most heavy burden think not thou,\\nAdventurous, to push thy shallop s prow", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "THE POET S FAME 123\\nInto that surge of well-remembered tones,\\nStriving to match each wandering wind that moans,\\nEach bell that tolls, and every bugle s blowing\\nWith some most fitting word, some verse bestowing\\nA never- shifting form on that which passed\\nSwift as a bird that glimmers down the blast.\\nin\\nSo, still unworded, save in memory mute,\\nRest thou sweet hour of viol and of lute\\nOf thoughts that never, never can be spoken,\\nToo frail for the rough usage of men s words\\nThoughts that shall keep their silence all unbroken\\nTill music once more stirs them; then like birds\\nThat in the night-time slumber, they shall wake,\\nWhile all the leaves of all the forest shake.\\nOh, hark, I hear it now, that tender strain\\nFulfilled with all of sorrow save its pain.\\nTHE POET S FAME\\nMany the songs of power the poet wrought\\nTo shake the hearts of men. Yea, he had caught\\nThe inarticulate and murmuring sound\\nThat comes at midnight from the darkened ground\\nWhen the earth sleeps for this he framed a word\\nOf human speech, and hearts were strangely stirred\\nThat listened. And for him the evening dew\\nFell with a sound of music, and the blue\\nOf the deep, starry sky he had the art\\nTo put in language that did seem a part\\nOf the great scope and progeny of nature.\\nIn woods, or waves, or winds, there was no creature", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "124 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nMysterious to him. He was too wise\\nEither to fear, or follow, or despise\\nWhom men call Science for he knew full well\\nAll she had told, or still might live to tell,\\nWas known to him before her very birth\\nYea, that there was no secret of the earth,\\nNor of the waters under, nor the skies,\\nThat had been hidden from the poet s eyes;\\nBy him there was no ocean unexplored,\\nNor any savage coast that had not roared\\nIts music in his ears.\\nHe loved the town\\nNot less he loved the ever-deepening brown\\nOf summer twilights on the enchanted hills\\nAnd long would listen to the starts and thrills\\nOf birds that sang and rustled in the trees,\\nOr watch the footsteps of the wandering breeze\\nAnd the quick, winged shadows flashing by,\\nOr birds that slowly wheeled across the unclouded sky.\\nAll these were written on the poet s soul;\\nBut he knew, too, the utmost, distant goal\\nOf the human mind. His fiery thought did run\\nTo Time s beginning, ere yon central sun\\nHad warmed to life the swarming broods of men.\\nIn waking dreams, his many-visioned ken\\nClutched the large, final destiny of things.\\nHe heard the starry music, and the wings\\nOf beings unfelt by others thrilled the air\\nAbout him. Yet the loud and angry blare\\nOf tempests found an echo in his verse,\\nAnd it was here that lovers did rehearse\\nThe ditties they would sing when, not too soon,\\nCame the warm night shadows, and stars, and moon.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "THE POET S FAME 125\\nWho heard his songs were filled with noble rage,\\nAnd wars took fire from his prophetic page\\nMost righteous wars, wherein, midst blood and tears,\\nThe world rushed onward through a thousand years.\\nAnd still he made the gentle sounds of peace\\nHeroic bade the nation s anger cease\\nBitter his songs of grief for those who fell\\nAnd for all this the people loved him well.\\nThey loved him well and therefore, on a day,\\nThey said with one accord Behold how gray\\nOur poet s head hath grown Ere t is too late\\nCome, let us crown him in our Hall of State\\nRing loud the bells, give to the winds his praise,\\nAnd urge his fame to other lands and days\\nSo was it done, and deep his joy therein.\\nBut passing home at night, from out the din\\nOf the loud Hall, the poet, unaware,\\nMoved through a lonely and dim-lighted square\\nThere was the smell of lilacs in the air\\nAnd then the sudden singing of a bird,\\nStartled by his slow tread. What memory stirred\\nWithin his brain he told not. Yet this night,\\nLone lingering when the eastern heavens were bright,\\nHe wove a song of such immortal art\\nThat there lives not in all the world one heart\\nOne human heart unmoved by it. Long long\\nThe laurel-crown has failed, but not that song\\nBorn of the night and sorrow. Where he lies\\nAt rest beneath the ever-shifting skies,\\nAge after age, from far-off lands they come,\\nWith tears and flowers, to seek the poet s tomb.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "126 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nTHE POET S PROTEST\\nO man with your rule and measure,\\nYour tests and analyses\\nYou may take your empty pleasure,\\nMay kill the pine, if you please\\nYou may count the rings and the seasons,\\nMay hold the sap to the sun,\\nYou may guess at the ways and the reasons\\nTill your little day is done.\\nii\\nBut for me the golden crest\\nThat shakes in the wind and launches\\nIts spear toward the reddening West\\nFor me the bough and the breeze,\\nThe sap unseen, and the glint\\nOf light on the dew-wet branches,\\nThe hiding shadows, the hint\\nOf the soul of mysteries.\\nin\\nYou may sound the sources of life,\\nAnd prate of its aim and scope\\nYou may search with your chilly knife\\nThrough the broken heart of hope.\\nBut for me the love-sweet breath,\\nAnd the warm, white bosom heaving,\\nAnd never a thought of death,\\nAnd only the bliss of living.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "WJtlJiJN LtiiL LKViL fUiLl (^UMJib 127\\nTO A YOUNG POET\\n1\\nIn the morning of the skies\\nI heard a lark arise.\\nOn the first day of the year\\nA wood-flower did appear.\\n11\\nLike a violet, like a lark,\\nLike the dawn that kills the dark,\\nLike a dewdrop, trembling, clinging,\\nIs the poet s first sweet singing.\\nWHEN THE TRUE POET COMES\\n1\\nWhen the true poet comes, how shall we know him\\nBy what clear token manners, language, dress\\nOr will a voice from heaven speak and show him\\nHim the swift healer of the earth s distress\\nTell us, that when the long-expected comes\\nAt last, with mirth and melody and singing,\\nWe him may greet with banners, beat of drums,\\nWelcome of men and maids and joybells ringing\\nAnd, for this poet of ours,\\nLaurels and flowers.\\n11\\nThus shall ye know him, this shall be his token\\nManners like other men, an unstrange gear\\nHis speech not musical, but harsh and broken\\nWill sound at first, each line a driven spear.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "128 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nFor he will sing as in the centuries olden,\\nBefore mankind its earliest fire forgot\\nYet whoso listens long hears music golden.\\nHow shall ye know him Ye shall know him not\\nTill, ended hate and scorn,\\nTo the grave he *s borne.\\nYOUTH AND AGE\\ni\\nI like your book, my boy,\\nT is full of youth and joy,\\nAnd love that sings and dreams.\\nYet it puzzles me, he said\\nA string of pearls it seems,\\nBut I cannot find the thread.\\nii\\nO friend of olden days\\nDear to me is your praise,\\nBut, many and many a year\\nYou must go back, I fear;\\nYou must journey back, I said,\\nTo find that golden thread\\nTHE SONNET\\nWhat is a sonnet T is the pearly shell\\nThat murmurs of the far-off murmuring sea\\nA precious jewel carved most curiously\\nIt is a little picture painted well.\\nWhat is a sonnet T is the tear that fell\\nFrom a great poet s hidden ecstasy;\\nA two-edged sword, a star, a song ah me\\nSometimes a heavy-tolling funeral bell.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "THE NEW TROUBADOURS 129\\nThis was the flame that shook with Dante s breath\\nThe solemn organ whereon Milton played,\\nAnd the clear glass where Shakespeare s shadow falls\\nA sea this is beware who ventureth\\nFor like a fiord the narrow floor is laid\\nMid-ocean deep to the sheer mountain walls.\\nA SONNET OF DANTE\\nTanto gentile e tanto ones fa pare.\\nSo fair, so pure my lady as she doth go\\nUpon her way, and others doth salute,\\nThat every tongue becometh trembling-mute,\\nAnd every eye is troubled by that glow.\\nHer praise she hears as on she moveth slow,\\nClothed with humility as with a suit\\nShe seems a thing that came (without dispute)\\nFrom heaven to earth a miracle to show.\\nThrough eyes that gaze on her benignity\\nThere passes to the heart a sense so sweet\\nThat none can understand who may not prove\\nAnd from her countenance there seems to move\\nA gentle spirit, with all love replete,\\nThat to the soul comes, saying, Sigh, O sigh\\nTHE NEW TROUBADOURS\\n(Avignon, 1879)\\nThey said that all the troubadours had flown\\nNo bird to flash a wing or swell a throat\\nBut as we journeyed down the rushing Rhone\\nTo Avignon, what joyful note on note", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "130 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nBurst forth beneath thy shadow, O Ventour\\nWhose eastward forehead takes the dawn divine\\nAh, dear Provence ah, happy troubadour,\\nAnd that sweet, mellow, antique song of thine!\\nFirst, Roumanille, the leader of the choir,\\nThen graceful Matthieu, tender, sighing, glowing,\\nThen Wyse all fancy, Aubanel all fire,\\nAnd Mistral, mighty as the north-wind s blowing;\\nAnd youthful Gras, and lo among the rest\\nA mother-bird who sang above her nest.\\nKEATS\\nTouch not with dark regret his perfect fame,\\nSighing, Had he but lived he had done so\\nOr, Were his heart not eaten out with woe\\nJohn Keats had won a prouder, mightier name\\nTake him for what he was and did nor blame\\nBlind fate for all he suffered. Thou shouldst know\\nSouls such as his escape no mortal blow\\nNo agony of joy, or sorrow, or shame\\nWhose name was writ in water What large laughter\\nAmong the immortals when that word was brought\\nThen when his fiery spirit rose flaming after\\nHigh toward the topmost heaven of heavens up-caught\\nAll hail our younger brother Shakespeare said,\\nAnd Dante nodded his imperial head.\\nAN INSCRIPTION IN ROME\\n(Piazza di Spagna)\\nSomething there is in Death not all unkind;\\nHe hath a gentler aspect, looking back;\\nFor flowers may bloom in the dread thunder s track,\\nAnd even the cloud that struck with light was lined.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "DESECRATION 13*\\nThus, when the heart is silent, speaks the mind\\nBut there are moments when comes rushing, black\\nAnd fierce upon us, the old, awful lack,\\nAnd Death once more is cruel, senseless, blind.\\nSo when I saw beside a Roman portal\\nIn this house died John Keats for tears that sprung\\nI could no further read. O bard immortal\\nNot for thy fame s sake but so young, so young\\nSuch beauty vanished; spilled such heavenly wine;\\nAll quenched that power of deathless song divine\\nDESECRATION\\nThe poet died last night\\nOutworn his mortal frame.\\nHe hath fought well the fight,\\nAnd won a deathless name.\\nBring laurel for his bier,\\nAnd flowers to deck the hearse.\\nThe tribute of a tear\\nTo his immortal verse.\\nHushed is that piercing strain\\nWho heard, for pleasure wept.\\nHis were our joy and pain\\nHe sang our sorrow slept.\\nYes, weep for him no more\\nShall such high songs have birth\\nGone is the harp he bore\\nForever from the earth.\\nWeep, weep, and scatter flowers\\nAbove his precious dust\\nChild of the heavenly powers\\nDivine, and pure, and just.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "132 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWeep, weep for when to-night\\nShall hoot the horned owl,\\nBeneath the pale moon s light\\nThe human ghouls will prowl.\\nWhat creatures those will throng\\nWithin the sacred gloom,\\nTo do our poet wrong\\nTo break the sealed tomb\\nNot the great world and gay\\nThat pities not, nor halts\\nBy thoughtless night or day,\\nBut, O more sordid-false\\nHis trusted friend and near,\\nTo whom his spirit moved\\nThe brother he held dear;\\nThe woman that he loved.\\nJOCOSERIA\\nMen grow old before their time,\\nWith the journey half before them;\\nIn languid rhyme\\nThey deplore them.\\nLife up-gathers carks and cares,\\nSo good-by to maid and lover\\nFind three gray hairs,\\nAnd cry All s over\\nLook at Browning How he keeps\\nIn the seventies still a heart\\nThat never sleeps\\nStill an art", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "OUR ELDER POETS 133\\nFull of youth s own grit and power,\\nThoughts we deemed to boys belonging\\nThe springtime s flower\\nLove-and-longing.\\nTO AN ENGLISH FRIEND\\nWITH EMERSON S POEMS\\nEdmund, in this book you 11 find\\nMusic from a prophet s mind.\\nEven when harsh the numbers be,\\nThere s an inward melody\\nAnd when sound is one with sense,\\nT is a bird s song, sweet, intense.\\nChide me not the book is small,\\nFor in it lies our all in all.\\nWe who in El Dorado live\\nHave no better gift to give.\\nWhen no more is silver mill,\\nGolden stream, or iron hill\\nSearch the New World from pole to pole,\\nHere you 11 find its singing soul\\nOUR ELDER POETS\\n(1878)\\nHe is gone We shall not see again\\nThat reverend form, those silver locks\\nSilent at last the iron pen\\nAnd words that poured like molten rocks.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "134 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nHe is gone, and we who thought him cold\\nMiss from our lives a generous heat,\\nAnd know that stolid form did hold\\nA fire that burned, a heart that beat.\\nHe is gone, but other bards remain\\nOur gray old prophet, young at heart,\\nOur scholar- poet s patriot strain\\nAnd he of the wise and mellow art.\\nAnd he who first to science sought,\\nBut to the merry muses after\\nWho learned a secret never taught\\nThe knowledge of men s tears and laughter.\\nHe also in whose music rude\\nOur peopled hills and prairies speak,\\nResounding, in his modern mood,\\nThe tragic fury of the Greek.\\nAnd he, too, lingers round about\\nThe darling city of his birth\\nThe bard whose gray eyes looking out\\nFind scarce one peer in all the earth.\\nLONGFELLOW S BOOK OF SONNETS\\nT was Sunday evening as I wandered down\\nThe central highway of this swarming place,\\nAnd felt a pleasant stillness not a trace\\nOf Saturday s harsh turmoil in the town\\nThen as a gentle breeze just stirs a gown,\\nYet almost motionless, or as the face\\nOf silence smiles, I heard the chimes of Grace\\nSound murmuring through the autumn evening s\\nbrown.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "THE MODERN RHYMER 135\\nTo-day, again, I passed along Broadway\\nIn the fierce tumult and mid-noise of noon,\\nWhile neath my feet the solid pavement shook;\\nWhen lo it seemed that bells began to play\\nUpon a Sabbath eve a silver tune\\nFor as I walked I read the poet s book,\\nH. H.\\nI would that in the verse she loved some word,\\nNot all unfit, I to her praise might frame\\nSome word wherein the memory of her name\\nShould through long years its incense still afford.\\nBut no, her spirit smote with its own sword\\nHerself has lit the fire whose blood-red flame\\nShall not be quenched this is her living fame\\nWho struck so well the sonnet s subtle chord.\\nNone who e er knew her can believe her dead\\nThough should she die they deem it well might be\\nHer spirit took its everlasting flight\\nIn summer s glory, by the sunset sea\\nThat onward through the Golden Gate it fled.\\nAh, where that bright soul is cannot be night.\\nTHE MODERN RHYMER\\n1\\nNow you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,\\nHave not we sworn it, many a time,\\nThat we no more our verse would scrawl,\\nFor Shakespeare he had sung it all", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "136 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAnd yet whatever others see\\nThe earth is fresh to you and me\\nAnd birds that sing, and winds that blow,\\nAnd blooms that make the country glow,\\nAnd lusty swains, and maidens bright,\\nAnd clouds by day, and stars by night,\\nAnd all the pictures in the skies\\nThat moved before Will Shakespeare s eyes\\nLove, hate, and scorn j frost, fire, and flower\\nOn us as well as him have power.\\nGo to our spirits shall not be laid,\\nSilenced and smothered by a shade.\\nAvon is not the only stream\\nCan make a poet sing and dream\\nNor are those castles, queens, and kings\\nThe height of sublunary things.\\n11\\nBeneath the false moon s pallid glare,\\nBy the cool fountain in the square\\n(This gray-green dusty square they set\\nWhere two gigantic highways met)\\nWe hear a music rare and new,\\nSweet Shakespeare was not known to you\\nYou saw the New World s sun arise\\nHigh up it shines in our own skies.\\nYou saw the ocean from the shore\\nThrough mid-seas now our ship doth roar\\nA wild, new, teeming world of men\\nThat wakens in the poet s brain\\nThoughts that were never thought before\\nOf hope, and longing, and despair,\\nWherein man s never-resting race", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "THE MODERN RHYMER 137\\nWestward, still westward, on doth fare,\\nDoth still subdue, and still aspire,\\nOr turning on itself doth face\\nIts own indomitable fire;\\nO million-centuried thoughts that make\\nThe Past seem but a shallop s wake!", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "TWO WORLDS\\nAND OTHER POEMS", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "TWO WORLDS\\nAND OTHER POEMS\\nPART I\\nTWO WORLDS\\nI. THE VENUS OF MILO\\nGRACE, majesty, and the calm bliss of life\\nNo conscious war twixt human will and duty\\nHere breathes, forever free from pain and strife,\\nThe old, untroubled pagan world of beauty.\\nII. MICHAEL ANGELO S SLAVE\\nOf life, of death the mystery and woe,\\nWitness in this mute, carven stone the whole.\\nThat suffering smile were never fashioned so\\nBefore the world had wakened to a soul.\\nPART II\\nTHE STAR IN THE CITY\\nAS down the city street\\nXI I pass at the twilight hour,\\nMid the noise of wheels and hoofs\\nThat grind on the stones, and beat\\n141", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "I4 2 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nUpward, by spire and tower,\\nOver the chimneys and roofs\\nClimbs my glance to the skies,\\nAnd I see, with a glad surprise,\\nA mist with a core of light.\\nSlowly, as grows the night,\\nAs the sky turns blue from gray,\\nSlowly it beams more bright,\\nAnd keeps with me on my way.\\nSoul of the twilight star\\nThat leads me from afar,\\nSpirit that keener glows\\nAs the daylight darker grows\\nThat leaps the chasm of blue\\nWhere the cross-street thunders through,\\nAnd follows o er roof and spire,\\nIn the night-time soaring higher;\\nI know thee, and only I,\\nThou comrade of the sky\\nStar of the poet s heart,\\nThe light and soul of his art.\\nMOONLIGHT\\nT is twelve o the clock.\\nThe town is still;\\nAs gray as a rock\\nFrom gable to sill\\nEach cottage is standing.\\nThe narrow street\\n(Where the tree-tops meet),\\nFrom the woods to the landing,\\nIs black with shadows", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "MOONLIGHT H3\\nThe roofs are white,\\nAnd white are the meadows;\\nThe harbor is bright.\\nCan this be night\\nii\\nT is twelve o the clock.\\nThe town is still\\nAs still as a stock\\nFrom harbor to hill.\\nThe moon s broad marge\\nHas no stars near,\\nFar off how clear\\nThey shine, how large\\nSomething is strange\\nIn the air, in the light;\\nCome forth Let us range\\nIn the black, in the white,\\nThrough the day-like night.\\nin\\nIn the elm-trees all\\nNo flutter, no twitter;\\nFrom the granite wall\\nThe small stars glitter.\\nA filmy thread\\nMy forehead brushes\\nA meteor rushes\\nFrom green to red.\\nNought is but the bliss\\nOf this dark, of this white,\\nOf these stars of this kiss,\\nO my Love and my Light\\nIn the day and the night.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "144 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nI CARE NOT IF THE SKIES ARE WHITE\\ni\\nI care not if the skies are white,\\nNor if the fields are gold\\nI care not whether t is black or bright,\\nOr winds blow soft or cold\\nBut O the dark, dark woods,\\nFor thee, and me, and love.\\nii\\nLet all but us at last depart,\\nThe great world say farewell\\nThis is the kingdom of the heart,\\nWhere only two may dwell\\nAnd O the dark, dark woods,\\nFor thee, and me, and love.\\nCONTRASTS\\ni\\nThunder in the north sky,\\nSunshine in the south\\nFrowning eyes and forehead\\nAnd a smiling mouth.\\nii\\nMaiden in the morning\\nLove her Yes, but fear her\\nIn the moony shadows\\nNearer, nearer, nearer", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "SERENADE 145\\nSERENADE\\n(for music)\\nI\\nDeep in the ocean of night\\nA pearl through the darkness shines\\nAsleep in the garden of night\\nA lily s head reclines\\nAfar in the forest of night\\nDreams the nightingale\\nClouds in the sky of night\\nMake one bright star grow pale.\\nO thou, sweet soul of my love,\\nArt my pearl, my lily-flower\\nThou, hiding heart of my love,\\nArt my bird, in thy maiden bower\\nHeart of my only love\\nThat shin st in the heavens afar\\nThou, in the night of love,\\nArt my one, dear, trembling star.\\nin\\nLet me draw thee to the light\\nPearl of the shadowy sea\\nAwake, thou lily of light,\\nTurn thy face divine on me\\nArouse thee, bird of the night,\\nLet thy voice to my voice reply\\nStar of thy lover s night,\\nShine forth or I die I die", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "146 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nLARGESS\\n1\\nSweet mouth, dark eyes, deep heart\\nAll of beauty, all of glamour heaven could fashion\\nWith its divinest art;\\nA woman s life and love, a woman s passion\\n11\\nBut these, at last, to win,\\nLand, or sea, or hell, or heaven might well be ravished\\nAt price of any sin\\nYet freely all she on her lover lavished.\\nINDOORS, AT NIGHT\\nThe window s white, the candle s red,\\nShow evening falleth overhead;\\nThe candle s red, the window s black,\\nAnd earth is close in midnight s sack\\nThe candle fades,\\nThe midnight shades\\nTurn suddenly a starry blue\\nAnd now to dreams, my soul, of you\\nTHE ABSENT LOVER\\nThe purple of the summer fields, the dark\\nOf forests, and the upward mountain sweep\\nBroken by crag, and scar of avalanche;\\nThe trembling of the tops of million trees", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "SANCTUM SANCTORUM 147\\nA world of sunlight thrilled with winds of dawn\\nAll these I feel, I breathe, all these I am\\nWhen with closed eyes I bring thy presence near,\\nAnd touch thy spirit with my spirit s love.\\nTO-NIGHT THE MUSIC DOTH\\nA BURDEN BEAR\\nTo-night the music doth a burden bear\\nOne word that moans and murmurs doth exhale\\nTremulously as perfume on the air\\nFrom out a rose blood-red, or lily pale.\\nThe burden is thy name, dear soul of me,\\nWhich the rapt melodist unknowing all\\nStill doth repeat through fugue and reverie\\nThy name, to him unknown, to me doth call,\\nAnd weeps my heart at every music-fall.\\nSANCTUM SANCTORUM\\n1\\nI thought I knew the mountain s every mood,\\nGray, black with storms, or lit by lightening dawn\\nBut once in evening twilight came a spell\\nUpon its brow, that held me with new power\\nA look of unknown beauty, a deep mood\\nTouched with a sorrow as of human kind.\\nI thought I knew full well my comrade s face,\\nBut a new face it was to me this day.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "148 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nShe sat among the worshipers and heard\\nThe preacher s voice, yet listened not, but leaned\\nHer head unto a tone whose accents fell\\nOn her sweet spirit only. Deep the awe\\nStruck then upon me, for my friend no more\\nSeemed to be near, as with forgetting gaze,\\nAnd piteous features steeped in tenderness,\\nShe thought on things unspeakable unknown\\nTo all the world beside.\\nin\\nWhen forth doth pass,\\nIn holy pilgrimage and awful quest,\\nThe soul of thy soul s comrade, thou must stand\\nIn silence by, and let it move alone\\nAnd unattended far to the inner shrine\\nThou canst but wait, and bow thine head, and pray;\\nAnd well for thee if thou may st prove so pure,\\nEnded that hour, thy comrade thou regain st,\\nThine as before, or even more deeply thine.\\nTHE GIFT\\nLife came to me and spoke\\nA palace for thee I have built\\nWherein to take thy pleasure\\nI have filled it with priceless treasure;\\nSeven days shalt thou dwell therein\\nThy joy shall be keener than sin,\\nWithout the stain of guilt\\nEnter the door of oak", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "THE GIFT 149\\nII\\nI entered the oaken door;\\nWithin, no ray of light\\nI saw no golden store,\\nMy heart stood still with fright;\\nTo curse Life was I fain\\nThen one unseen before\\nLaid in my own her hand,\\nAnd said Come thou and know\\nThis is the House of Woe;\\nI am Life s sister, Pain.\\nin\\nThrough many a breathless way,\\nIn dark, on dizzying height,\\nShe led me through the day\\nAnd into the dreadful night.\\nMy soul was sore distressed\\nAnd wildly I longed for rest;\\nTill a chamber met my sight,\\nFar off, and hid, and still,\\nWith diamonds all bedight\\nAnd every precious thing;\\nNot even a god might will\\nMore beauty there to bring.\\nIV\\nThen spoke Life s sister, Pain\\nHere thou as a king shalt reign,\\nHere shalt thou take thy pleasure,\\nThis is the priceless treasure,\\nThe chamber of thy delight\\nThrough endless day and night\\nRejoice, this is the end\\nThou hast found the heart of a friend.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "IS\u00c2\u00a9 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAH, TIME, GO NOT SO SOON\\nAh, Time, go not so soon\\nI would not thus be used, I would forego that boon\\nTurn back, swift Time, and let\\nMe many a year forget\\nLet her be strange once more an unfamiliar tune,\\nAn unimagined flower,\\nNot known till that mute, wondrous hour\\nWhen first we met\\nTHE YEARS ARE ANGELS\\nThe years are angels that bring down from Heaven\\nGifts of the gods. What has the angel given\\nWho last night vanished up the heavenly wall\\nHe gave a friend the gods best gift of all.\\nIN HER YOUNG EYES\\nIn her young eyes the children looked and found\\nTheir happy comrade. Summer souls false-bound\\nIn age s frosty winter, without ruth,\\nLived once again in her their long-lost youth.\\nYESTERDAY, WHEN WE WERE FRIENDS\\ni\\nYesterday, when we were friends,\\nWe were scarcely friends at all\\nNow we have been friends so long,\\nNow our love has grown so strong.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "LEO ISI\\nII\\nWhen to-morrow s eve shall fall\\nWe shall say, as night descends,\\nAgain shall say Ah, yesterday\\nScarcely were we friends at all\\nNow we have been friends so long\\nOur love has grown so deep, so strong.\\nA NIGHT SONG\\n(for the guitar)\\nThe leaves are dark and large, Love,\\nT is blue at every marge, Love\\nThe stars hang in the tree, Love,\\nI 11 pluck them all for thee, Love\\nThe crescent moon is curled, Love,\\nDown at the edge of the world, Love\\nI 11 run and bring it now, Love,\\nTo crown thy gentle brow, Love\\nFor in my song\\nThe summer long\\nThe stars, and moon, and night, Love,\\nAre but for thy delight, Love\\nLEO\\n1\\nOver the roofs of the houses I hear the barking of Leo\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nLeo the shaggy, the lustrous, the giant, the gentle New-\\nfoundland.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "1 52 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nDark are his eyes as the night, and black is his hair as\\nthe midnight\\nLarge and slow is his tread till he sees his master\\nreturning,\\nThen how he leaps in the air, with motion ponderous,\\nfrightening\\nNow as I pass to my work I hear o er the roar of the\\ncity\\nFar over the roofs of the houses, I hear the barking of\\nLeo;\\nFor me he is moaning and crying, for me in measure\\nsonorous\\nHe raises his marvelous voice, for me he is wailing and\\ncalling.\\nii\\nNone can assuage his grief though but for a day is the\\nparting,\\nThough morn after morn t is the same, though home\\nevery night comes his master,\\nStill will he grieve when we sever, and wild will be his\\nrejoicing\\nWhen at night his master returns and lays but a hand\\non his forehead.\\nNo lack will there be in the world of faith, of love, and\\ndevotion,\\nNo lack for me and for mine, while Leo alone is living\\nWhile over the roofs of the houses I hear the barking of\\nLeo.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "LOVE, ART, AND TIME 153\\nPART III\\nBROTHERS\\nPASSION is a wayward child,\\nArt his brother firm and mild.\\nLonely each\\nDoth fail to reach\\nHeight of music, song, or speech.\\nIf hand in hand they sally forth,\\nEast or west, or south or north,\\nNought can stay them\\nNor delay them.\\nSlaves not they of space or time\\nIn their journeyings sublime.\\nLOVE, ART, AND TIME\\nON A PICTURE ENTITLED\\nBY WILL H. LOW\\nSweet Grecian girl who on the sunbright wall\\nTracest the outline of thy lover s shade,\\nWhile, on the dial near, Time s hand is laid\\nWith silent motion fearest thou, then, all\\nHow that one day the light shall cease to fall\\nOn him who is thy light how lost, dismayed,\\nBy Time, and Time s pale comrade Death,\\nbetrayed,\\nThou shalt breathe on beneath the all-shadowing\\npall!", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "154 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nLove, Art, and Time, these are the triple powers\\nThat rule the world, and shall for many a morrow\\nLove that beseecheth Art to conquer Time\\nBright is the picture, but, O fading flowers\\nO youth that passes love that bringeth sorrow\\nBright is the picture sad the poet s rhyme.\\nTHE DANCERS\\nON A PICTURE ENTITLED SUMMER, BY T. W. DEWING\\nBehold these maidens in a row\\nAgainst the birches freshening green\\nTheir lines like music sway and flow\\nThey move before the emerald screen\\nLike broidered figures dimly seen\\nOn woven cloths, in moony glow\\nGracious, and graceful, and serene.\\nThey hear the harp its lovely tones\\nEach maiden in each motion owns,\\nAs if she were a living note\\nWhich from that curved harp doth float.\\nTHE TWENTY-THIRD OF APRIL\\nA little English earth and breathed air\\nMade Shakespeare the divine so is his verse\\nThe broidered soil of every blossom fair\\nSo doth his song all sweet bird-songs rehearse.\\nBut tell me, then, what wondrous stuff did fashion\\nThat part of him which took those wilding flights\\nAmong imagined worlds whence the white passion\\nThat burned three centuries through the days and\\nnights", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "THE TWELFTH OF DECEMBER 155\\nNot heaven s four winds could make, nor the round earth,\\nThe soul wherefrom the soul of Hamlet flamed;\\nNor anything of merely mortal birth\\nCould lighten as when Shakespeare s name is named.\\nHow was his body bred we know full well,\\nBut that high soul s engendering who may tell\\nEMMA LAZARUS\\nWhen on thy bed of pain thou layest low\\nDaily we saw thy body fade away,\\nNor could the love wherewith we loved thee stay\\nFor one dear hour the flesh borne down by woe\\nBut as the mortal sank, with what white glow\\nFlamed thy eternal spirit, night and day\\nUntouched, unwasted, though the crumbling clay\\nLay wrecked and ruined Ah, is it not so,\\nDear poet-comrade, who from sight hast gone\\nIs it not so that spirit hath a life\\nDeath may not conquer But, O dauntless one S\\nStill must we sorrow. Heavy is the strife\\nAnd thou not with us thou of the old race\\nThat with Jehovah parleyed, face to face.\\nTHE TWELFTH OF DECEMBER\\nOn this day Browning died\\nSay, rather On the tide\\nThat throbs against those glorious palace walls\\nThat rises pauses falls", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "156 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWith melody and myriad- tinted gleams;\\nOn that enchanted tide,\\nHalf real, and half poured from lovely dreams,\\nA soul of Beauty, a white, rhythmic flame,\\nPassed singing forth into the Eternal Beauty whence it\\ncame.\\nPART IV\\nSHERIDAN\\n1\\nQUIETLY, like a child\\nThat sinks in slumber mild,\\nNo pain or troubled thought his well-earned peace to\\nmar,\\nSank into endless rest our thunderbolt of war.\\n11\\nThough his the power to smite\\nQuick as the lightning s light,\\nHis single arm an army, and his name a host,\\nNot his the love of blood, the warrior s cruel boast.\\nin\\nBut in the battle s flame\\nHow glorious he came\\nEven like a white-combed wave that breaks and tears\\nthe shore,\\nWhile wreck lies strewn behind, and terror flies before\\nIV\\nT was he, his voice, his might,\\nCould stay the panic-flight,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "SHERMAN 157\\nAlone shame back the headlong, many -leagued retreat,\\nAnd turn to evening triumph morning s foul defeat.\\nv\\nHe was our modern Mars\\nYet firm his faith that wars\\nEre long would cease to vex the sad, ensanguined earth,\\nAnd peace forever reign, as at Christ s holy birth.\\nVI\\nBlest land, in whose dark hour\\nArise to loftiest power\\nNo dazzlers of the sword to play the tyrant s part,\\nBut patriot-soldiers, true and pure and high of heart\\nVII\\nOf such our chief of all\\nAnd he who broke the wall\\nOf civil strife in twain, no more to build or mend\\nAnd he who hath this day made Death his faithful friend\\nVIII\\nAnd now above his tomb\\nFrom out the eternal gloom\\nWelcome his chieftain s voice sounds o er the can-\\nnon s knell\\nAnd of the three one only stays to say Farewell\\nSHERMAN\\n1\\nGlory and honor and fame and everlasting laudation\\nFor our captains who loved not war, but fought for the\\nlife of the nation", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "158 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWho knew that, in all the land, one slave meant strife,\\nnot peace\\nWho fought for freedom, not glory made war that war\\nmight cease.\\n11\\nGlory and honor and fame; the beating of muffled\\ndrums\\nThe wailing funeral dirge, as the flag-wrapped coffin\\ncomes.\\nFame and honor and glory, and joy for a noble soul\\nFor a full and splendid life, and laureled rest at the goal.\\nin\\nGlory and honor and fame the pomp that a soldier\\nprizes;\\nThe league-long waving line as the marching falls and\\nrises;\\nRumbling of caissons and guns the clatter of horses\\nfeet,\\nAnd a million awe-struck faces far down the waiting\\nstreet.\\nIV\\nBut better than martial woe, and the pageant of civic\\nsorrow\\nBetter than praise of to-day, or the statue we build\\nto-morrow\\nBetter than honor and glory, and History s iron pen,\\nWas the thought of duty done and the love of his\\nfellowmen.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "PRO PATRIA 159\\nPRO PATRIA\\nIN MEMORY OF A FAITHFUL CHAPLAIN\\nErewhile I sang the praise of them whose lustrous\\nnames\\nFlashed in war s dreadful flames\\nWho rose in glory, and in splendor, and in might\\nTo fame s sequestered height.\\nHonor to all, for each his honors meekly carried,\\nNor e er the conquered harried\\nAll honor, for they sought alone to serve the state\\nNot merely to be great.\\nhi\\nYes, while the glorious past our grateful memory\\ncraves,\\nAnd while yon bright flag waves,\\nLincoln, Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, the peerless four,\\nShall live forever more\\nIV\\nShall shine the eternal stars of stern and loyal love,\\nAll other stars above\\nThe imperial nation they made one, at last, and free,\\nTheir monument shall be.\\n1 The chaplain referred to lost his life through taking upon\\nhimself the visitation of the army smallpox hospital, near the\\ncamp of his regiment, the 40th New York Volunteers, at Brandy\\nStation, Virginia, April, 1864.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "160 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAh yes but ne er may we forget the praise to sound\\nOf the brave souls that found\\nDeath in the myriad ranks, mid blood, and groans, and\\nstenches\\nTombs in the abhorred trenches.\\nVI\\nComrades To-day a tear- wet garland I would bring\\nBut one song let me sing,\\nFor one sole hero of my heart and desolate home\\nCome with me, Comrades, come\\nVII\\nBring your glad flowers, your flags, for this one humble\\ngrave;\\nFor, Soldiers, he was brave\\nThough fell not he before the cannon s thunderous\\nbreath,\\nYet noble was his death.\\nVIII\\nTrue soldier of his country and the sacred cross\\nHe counted gain, not loss,\\nPerils and nameless horrors of the embattled field,\\nWhile he had help to yield.\\nIX\\nBut not where mid wild cheers the awful battle broke,\\nA hell of fire and smoke,\\nHe to heroic death went forth with soul elate\\nHarder his lonely fate.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "PRO P ATRIA 161\\nSearching where most was needed, worst of all endured,\\nSufferers he found immured,\\nTented apart because of fatal, foul disease,\\nBalm brought he unto these\\nXI\\nCelestial balm, the spirit s holy ministry,\\nHe brought, and only he\\nWhere men who blanched not at the battle s shell and\\nshot\\nTrembled, and entered not.\\nXII\\nYet life to him was oh, most dear, home, children,\\nwife,\\nBut, dearer still than life,\\nDuty that passion of the soul which from the sod\\nAlone lifts man to God.\\nXIII\\nThe pest-house entering fearless stricken he fearless fell,\\nKnowing that all was well;\\nThe high, mysterious Power whereof mankind has\\ndreamed\\nTo him not distant seemed.\\nXIV\\nSo nobly died this unknown hero of the war;\\nAnd heroes, near and far,\\nSleep now in graves like his unfamed in song or story\\nBut theirs is more than glory", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "1 62 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nTO THE SPIRIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN\\n(REUNION AT GETTYSBURG TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER\\nTHE BATTLE)\\nShade of our greatest, O look down to-day\\nHere the long, dread midsummer battle roared,\\nAnd brother in brother plunged the accursed sword\\nHere foe meets foe once more in proud array-\\nYet not as once to harry and to slay\\nBut to strike hands, and with sublime accord\\nWeep tears heroic for the souls that soared\\nQuick from earth s carnage to the starry way.\\nEach fought for what he deemed the people s good,\\nAnd proved his bravery by his offered life,\\nAnd sealed his honor with his outpoured blood\\nBut the Eternal did direct the strife,\\nAnd on this sacred field one patriot host\\nNow calls thee father, dear, majestic ghost\\nFAILURE AND SUCCESS\\nHe fails who climbs to power and place\\nUp the pathway of disgrace.\\nHe fails not who makes truth his cause,\\nNor bends to win the crowd s applause.\\nHe fails not, he who stakes his all\\nUpon the right, and dares to fall\\nWhat though the living bless or blame,\\nFor him the long success of fame.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "THE WHITE TSAR S PEOPLE 163\\nJ. R. L.\\nON HIS BIRTHDAY\\nNavies nor armies can exalt the state\\nMillions of men, nor coined wealth untold\\nDown to the pit may sink a land of gold\\nBut one great name can make a country great.\\nNAPOLEON\\nA soul inhuman No, but human all,\\nIf human is each passion man has known\\nScorn, hate, and love the lust of empire, grown\\nTo such a height as did the world appal\\nIf the same human soul may soar and crawl\\nAs soared his and as crawled if to be shown\\nThe utmost heaven and hell if to atone\\nFor fame consummate by colossal fall\\nIf human t is to see friend, partizan\\nTurn, dastardly, the imperial hand to tear\\nThat fed them if through gnawing years to plan\\nVengeance, and space to breathe the unfettered air\\nNo alien from his kind but very man\\nSlow perished on that island of despair.\\nTHE WHITE TSAR S PEOPLE\\nPART I\\nThe White Tsar s people cry\\nThou God of the heat and the cold,\\nOf storm and of lightning,\\nOf darkness, and dawn s red brightening", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "1 64 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nHold, Lord God, hold,\\nHold Thy hand lest we curse Thee and die.\\nThe White Tsar s people pray\\nThou God of the South and the North,\\nWe are crushed, we are bleeding\\nT is Christ, t is Thy Son interceding\\nForth, Lord, come forth\\nBid the slayer no longer slay.\\nThe White Tsar s people call\\nAloud to the skies of lead\\nWe are slaves, not freemen\\nOurselves, our children, our women\\nDead, we are dead,\\nThough we breathe, we are dead men all.\\nBlame not if we misprize thee\\nWho can, but will not draw near.\\nT is Thou who hast made us\\nNot Thou, dread God, to upbraid us.\\nHear, Lord God, hear\\nLest we whom Thou madest despise Thee.\\nPART II\\nThen answered the most high God,\\nLord of the heat and the cold,\\nOf storm and of lightning,\\nOf darkness, and dawn s red brightening\\nBold, yea, too bold,\\nWhom I wrought from the air and the clod\\nHast thou forgotten from me\\nAre those ears so quick to hear", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "THE WHITE TSAR S PEOPLE 165\\nThe passion and anguish\\nOf your sisters, your children who languish\\nNear Ah, not near\\nFar off by the uttermost sea\\nWho gave ye your hearts to bleed\\nAnd brains to weave and to plan\\nWhy call ye on heaven\\nT is the earth that to you is given\\nPlead, ye may plead,\\nBut for man I work through man.\\nWho gave ye a voice to utter\\nYour tale to the wind and the sea\\nOne word well spoken\\nAnd the iron gates are broken\\nFrom me, yea, from me\\nThe word that ye will not mutter.\\nI love not murder but ruth.\\nBegone from my sight ye who take\\nThe knife of the coward\\nEven ye who by heaven were dowered\\nWake ye, O wake,\\nAnd strike with the sword of Truth\\nFear ye lest I misprize ye\\nI who fashioned not brutes, but men.\\nAfter the lightning\\nAnd darkness the dawn s red brightening\\nMen Be ye men\\nLest I who made ye despise ye", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "166 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nPART V\\nHIDE NOT THY HEART\\ni\\nTHIS is my creed,\\nThis be my deed\\nHide not thy heart\\nSoon we depart;\\nMortals are all;\\nA breath, then the pall\\nA flash on the dark\\nAll s done stiff and stark.\\nNo time for a lie\\nThe truth, and then die.\\nHide not thy heart\\nii\\nForth with thy thought\\nSoon t will be nought,\\nAnd thou in thy tomb.\\nNow is air, now is room.\\nDown with false shame\\nReck not of fame\\nDread not man s spite;\\nQuench not thy light.\\nThis be thy creed,\\nThis be thy deed\\nHide not thy heart\\nin\\nIf God is, he made\\nSunshine and shade,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "WHITE, PILLARED NECK 167\\nHeaven and hell\\nThis we know well.\\nDost thou believe\\nDo not deceive\\nScorn not thy faith\\nIf tis a wraith,\\nSoon it will fly.\\nThou, who must die,\\nHide not thy heart\\nIV\\nThis is my creed\\nThis be my deed\\nFaith, or a doubt,\\nI shall speak out\\nAnd hide not my heart.\\nTHE POET FROM HIS OWN SORROW\\nThe poet from his own sorrow\\nPoured forth a love-sad song.\\nA stranger, on the morrow,\\nDrew near, with a look of wrong,\\nAnd said Beneath its pall\\nI have hidden my heart in vain\\nTo the world thou hast sung it all\\nWho told thee my secret pain\\nWHITE, PILLARED NECK\\nWhite, pillared neck; a brow to make men quake;\\nA woman s perfect form;\\nLike some cool marble, should that wake,\\nBreathe, and be warm.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "1 68 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nA shape, a mind, a heart,\\nOf womanhood the whole\\nHer breath, her smile, her touch, her art,\\nAll save her soul.\\nGREAT NATURE IS AN ARMY GAY\\nGreat nature is an army gay,\\nResistless marching on its way\\nI hear the bugles clear and sweet,\\nI hear the tread of million feet.\\nAcross the plain I see it pour;\\nIt tramples down the waving grass;\\nWithin the echoing mountain-pass\\nI hear a thousand cannon roar.\\nIt swarms within my garden gate\\nMy deepest well it drinketh dry.\\nIt doth not rest; it doth not wait;\\nBy night and day it sweepeth by\\nCeaseless it marches by my door;\\nIt heeds me not, though I implore.\\nI know not whence it comes, nor where\\nIt goes. For me it doth not care\\nWhether I starve, or eat, or sleep,\\nOr live, or die, or sing, or weep.\\nAnd now the banners all are bright,\\nNow torn and blackened by the fight.\\nSometimes its laughter shakes the sky,\\nSometimes the groans of those who die.\\nStill through the night and through the livelong day\\nThe infinite army marches on its remorseless way.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "THE PRISONER S THOUGHT 169\\nLIFE IS THE COST\\n1\\nLife is the cost.\\nBehold yon tower,\\nThat heavenward lifts\\nTo the cloudy drifts\\nLike a flame, like a flower\\nWhat lightness, what grace,\\nWhat a dream of power\\nOne last endeavor\\nOne stone to place\\nAnd it stands forever.\\n11\\nA slip, a fall\\nA cry, a call\\nTurn away, all s done.\\nStands the tower in the sun\\nForever and a day.\\nOn the pavement below\\nThe crimson stain\\nWill be worn away\\nIn the ebb and flow\\nThe tower will remain.\\nLife is the cost.\\nTHE PRISONER S THOUGHT\\n1\\nIs t I for whom the law s brute penalty\\nWas made to whom the law once seemed a power\\nFar off and not to be concerned withal\\nAm I indeed this rank and noisome thing", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "170 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nFit for such handling; to be pushed aside\\nInto a human, foul receptacle,\\nA fetid compost of dull, festering crime\\nEven not meet for nutriment of earth,\\nBut only here to rot in memories\\nOf my own shame, and shame of other men?\\nHere let me rot then there s a taste one has\\nFor just the best of all things, even of sin.\\nHe s a poor devil who in deepest hell\\nKnows no keen relish for the worst that is,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe very acme of intensest pain,\\nNor smacks charred lips at thoughts of some dear crime,\\nThe sweetest, deadliest, damnablest of all.\\nSometimes I hug that hellish happiness;\\nAnd then a loathing falls upon my soul\\nFor what I was, and am, and still must be.\\n11\\nAnd this same I there comes to me a time,\\nAnd often comes, when all this slips away;\\nStays not one stain, nor scar, nor fatal hurt.\\nPerhaps it is a sort of waking dream\\nBut if I dream, I m breathing audibly,\\nI feel my pulse beat, hear the talk and tread\\nDown these long corridors see the barred blue\\nOf the cell s window, hear a singing bird\\nYes, O my God, I hear a singing bird,\\nSuch as I heard in childhood. Now, you think,\\nI dream I am a child once more. Not so\\nI am just what I am; a man in prison\\n(Damn them I m innocent of what they swore\\nAnd proved with cant, and well-paid perjury\\nThough other crimes, they know not of, I did)", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "THE CONDEMNED 17\\nBut suddenly my soul is pure as yours\\nMy thought as clean my spirit is as free\\nAs any man s, or any purest woman s.\\nI think as justly, as for instance, sir,\\nYou think; as circumspectly, wisely, freely,\\nAs does my jolly keeper, or the smith\\nWho enters once a day to try the bars\\nThat shut my body out from freedom Not\\nMy soul. Why, this my soul has thoughts that strike\\nInto the very heights and depths of Heaven.\\nYou 11 think it passing strange, good friend, no doubt.\\nT is strange but here s a further mystery\\nThink you that in some other living state\\nAfter what we call death, or in this life,\\nThe thinking part of us we name the soul\\nCan ever get away from its old self;\\nCan wash the earth all off from it, that so\\nIt really will be, what I sometimes seem\\nAs sinless as a little child at birth,\\nWith all a woman s love for all things pure,\\nAnd all a grown man s strength to do the right\\nTHE CONDEMNED\\nThou art not fit to die Why not\\nThe fairest body ripes to rot.\\nThy soul Oh, why not let it go\\nFree from the flesh that drags it low\\nTo die Poor wretch, do not deceive\\nThyself who art not fit to live.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "I7 2 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nSOW THOU SORROW\\nSow thou sorrow and thou shalt reap it\\nSow thou joy and thou shalt keep it.\\nTEMPTATION\\nNot alone in pain and gloom,\\nDoes the abhorred tempter come\\nNot in light alone and pleasure\\nProffers he the poisoned measure.\\nWhen the soul doth rise\\nNearest to its native skies,\\nThere the exalted spirit finds\\nBorne upon the heavenly winds\\nSatan, in an angel s guise,\\nWith voice divine and innocent eyes.\\nA MIDSUMMER MEDITATION\\ni\\nFace once the thought This piled up sky of cloud,\\nBlue vastness, and white vastness steeped in light,\\nStruck through with light, that centers in the sun,\\nThis blue of waves below that meets blue sky\\nBut a white, trembling shore between, that sweeps\\nThe circle of the bay this green of woods,\\nAnd keener green of new-mown, grassy fields\\nThis ceaseless, leaf-like rustle of the waves\\nThese shining, billowy tree-tops songs of birds\\nStrong scent of seaweed, mixed with smell of pines\\nFace once this thought Thy spirit that looks forth,\\nThat breathes the light, and life, and joy of all,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "VISIONS 173\\nShall cease, but not the things that pleasure thee\\nThey shall endure for eyes like thine, but not\\nFor thine own eyes for human hearts like thine,\\nBut not for thine own heart, all dust and dead.\\n11\\nFace it, O Spirit, then look up once more,\\nBrave conqueror of dull mortality\\nLook up and be a part of all thou see st\\nOcean and earth and miracle of sky,\\nAll that thou see st, thou art, and without thee\\nWere nothing. Thou, a god, dost recreate\\nThe whole breathing thy soul in all, till all\\nIs one wide world made perfect at thy touch.\\nAnd know that thou, who darest a world create,\\nArt one with the Almighty, son to sire\\nOf his eternity a quenchless spark.\\nAS DOTH THE BIRD\\nAs doth the bird, on outstretched pinions, dare\\nThe dread abysm s viewless air,\\nTake thou, my soul, thy fearless flight\\nInto the void and dark of death s eternal night.\\nIn the Catskills.\\nVISIONS\\nCast into the pit\\nOf lonely sorrow,\\nThe suffering soul,\\nLooking aloft,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "174 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nSees with amaze\\nIn the daytime sky\\nThe shine of stars.\\nii\\nCame to me once\\nIn the seething town\\nA form of beauty,\\nInnocent brow,\\nAnd soul of youth\\nDeep, sweet eyes,\\nAn angel s gaze,\\nAnd rose-leaf lips\\nThat murmured low\\nI, lost, forgotten,\\nLong left, long dead,\\nI am thy sin.\\nin\\nWith full-toned beat\\nOf the happy heart,\\nIn a day of peace,\\nIn an hour of joy,\\nOnce in my life\\nAnd only once,\\nOf a sudden, I saw,\\nThe end of all!\\nDeath", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "THE PASSING OF CHRIST 175\\nWITH A CROSS OF IMMORTELLES\\nWhen Christ cried It is done\\nThe face of a small red flower,\\nLooking up to the suffering One,\\nTurned pale with love and pain,\\nAnd never shone red again.\\nIn memory of that hour\\nWhich holds the secret of bliss\\nAnd the darker secret of sorrow\\nThat shall come to each, to-morrow\\nSweet friend, I send you this.\\nTHE PASSING OF CHRIST\\n1\\nO Man of light and lore\\nDo you mean that in our day\\nThe Christ hath passed away\\nThat nothing now is divine\\nIn the fierce rays that shine\\nThrough every cranny and thought\\nThat Christ as he once was taught\\nShall be the Christ no more\\nThat the Hope and Saviour of men\\nShall be seen no more again\\nThat, miracles being done,\\nGone is the Holy One\\nAnd thus, you hold, this Christ\\nFor the past alone sufficed\\nFrom the throne of the hearts of the world\\nThe Son of God shall be hurled,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "176 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAnd henceforth must be sought\\nNew prophets and kings of thought\\nThat the tenderest, truest word\\nThe heart of sorrow hath heard\\nShall sound no more upon earth\\nThat he who hath made of birth\\nA dread and holy rite\\nWho hath brought to the eyes of death\\nA vision of heavenly light,\\nShall fade with our failing faith\\nHe who saw in children s eyes\\nEternal paradise\\nWho looked through shame and sin\\nAt the sanctity within\\nWhose memory, since he died,\\nThe earth hath sanctified\\nHath been the stay and the hold\\nOf millions of lives untold,\\nAnd the world on its upward path\\nHath led from crime and wrath\\nYou say that this Christ hath passed\\nAnd we cannot hold him fast\\nAh no If the Christ you mean\\nShall pass from this time, this scene,\\nThese hearts, these lives of ours,\\nT is but as the summer flowers\\nPass, but return again,\\nTo gladden a world of men.\\nFor he, the only, the true,\\nIn each age, in each waiting heart,\\nLeaps into life anew\\nThough he pass, he shall not depart.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "THE PASSING OF CHRIST 177\\nBehold him now where he comes\\nNot the Christ of our subtile creeds,\\nBut the lord of our hearts, of our homes,\\nOf our hopes, our prayers, our needs\\nThe brother of want and blame,\\nThe lover of women and men,\\nWith a love that puts to shame\\nAll passions of mortal ken\\nYet of all of woman born\\nHis is the scorn of scorn\\nBefore whose face do fly\\nLies, and the love of a lie\\nWho from the temple of God,\\nAnd the sacred place of laws,\\nDrives forth, with smiting rod,\\nThe herds of ravening maws.\\nT is he, as none other can,\\nMakes free the spirit of man,\\nAnd speaks, in darkest night,\\nOne word of awful light\\nThat strikes through the dreadful pain\\nOf life, a reason sane\\nThat word divine which brought\\nThe universe from nought.\\nAh no, thou life of the heart,\\nNever shalt thou depart\\nNot till the leaven of God\\nShall lighten each human clod;\\nNot till the world shall climb\\nTo thy height serene, sublime,\\nShall the Christ who enters our door\\nPass to return no more.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "178 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nCREDO\\nHow easily my neighbor chants his creed,\\nKneeling beside me in the House of God.\\nHis I believe he chants, and I believe,\\nWith cheerful iteration and consent\\nWatching meantime the white, slow sunbeam move\\nAcross the aisle, or listening to the bird\\nWhose free, wild song sounds through the open door.\\nThou God supreme, I too, I too, believe J\\nBut oh forgive if this one human word,\\nBinding the deep and breathless thought of thee\\nAnd my own conscience with an iron band,\\nStick in my throat. I cannot say it, thus\\nThis I believe that doth thyself obscure\\nThis rod to smite this barrier j this blot\\nOn thy most unimaginable face\\nAnd soul of majesty.\\nT is not man s faith\\nIn thee that he proclaims in echoed phrase,\\nBut faith in man faith not in thine own Christ,\\nBut in another man s dim thought of him.\\nChrist of Judea, look thou in my heart\\nDo I not love thee, look to thee, in thee\\nAlone have faith of all the sons of men\\nFaith deepening with the weight and woe of years.\\nPure soul and tenderest of all that came\\nInto this world of sorrow, hear my prayer\\nLead me, yea lead me deeper into life,\\nThis suffering, human life wherein thou liv st", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "NON SINE DOLORE 179\\nAnd breathest still, and hold st thy way divine.\\nT is here, O pitying Christ, where thee I seek,\\nHere where the strife is fiercest where the sun\\nBeats down upon the highway thronged with men,\\nAnd in the raging mart. Oh deeper lead\\nMy soul into the living world of souls\\nWhere thou dost move.\\nBut lead me, Man Divine,\\nWhere er thou will st, only that I may find\\nAt the long journey s end thy image there,\\nAnd grow more like to it. For art not thou\\nThe human shadow of the infinite Love\\nThat made and fills the endless universe\\nThe very Word of him, the unseen, unknown\\nEternal Good that rules the summer flower\\nAnd all the worlds that people starry space\\nNON SINE DOLORE\\n1\\nWhat, then, is Life, what Death\\nThus the Answerer saith\\nO faithless mortal, bend thy head and listen\\nDown o er the vibrant strings,\\nThat thrill, and moan, and mourn, and glisten,\\nThe Master draws his bow.\\nA voiceless pause then upward, see, it springs,\\nFree as a bird with unimprisoned wings\\nIn twain the chord was cloven,\\nWhile, shaken with woe,\\nWith breaks of instant joy all interwoven,\\nPiercing the heart with lyric knife,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "180 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nOn, on the ceaseless music sings,\\nRestless, intense, serene\\nLife is the downward stroke the upward, Life\\nDeath but the pause between.\\nii\\nThen spake the Questioner If t were only this,\\nAh, who could face the abyss\\nThat plunges steep athwart each human breath\\nIf the new birth of Death\\nMeant only more of Life as mortals know it,\\nWhat priestly balm, what song of highest poet,\\nCould heal one sentient soul s immitigable pain\\nAll, all were vain\\nIf, having soared pure spirit at the last,\\nFree from the impertinence and warp of flesh,\\nWe find half joy, half pain, on every blast;\\nAre caught again in closer-woven mesh\\nAh who would care to die\\nFrom out these fields and hills, and this familiar sky\\nThese firm, sure hands that compass us, this dear\\nhumanity\\nin\\nAgain the Answerer saith\\nO ye of little faith,\\nShall, then, the spirit prove craven,\\nAnd Death s divine deliverance but give\\nA summer rest and haven\\nBy all most noble in us, by the light that streams\\nInto our waking dreams,\\nAh, we who know what Life is, let us live\\nClearer and freer, who shall doubt\\nSomething of dust and darkness cast forever out", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "NON SINE DOLORE 181\\nBut Life, still Life, that leads to higher Life,\\nEven though the highest be not free from the immortal\\nstrife.\\nThe highest Soul of man, oh, be thou bold,\\nAnd to the brink of thought draw near, behold\\nWhere, on the earth s green sod,\\nWhere, where in all the universe of God,\\nHath strife forever ceased\\nWhen hath not some great orb flashed into space\\nThe terror of its doom When hath no human face\\nTurned earthward in despair,\\nFor that some horrid sin had stamped its image there\\nIf at our passing Life be Life increased,\\nAnd we ourselves flame pure unfettered soul,\\nLike the Eternal Power that made the whole\\nAnd lives in all he made\\nFrom shore of matter to the unknown spirit shore\\nIf, sire to son, and tree to limb,\\nCycle on countless cycle more and more\\nWe grow to be like him\\nIf he lives on, serene and unafraid,\\nThrough all his light, his love, his living thought,\\nOne with the sufferer, be it soul or star\\nIf he escape not pain, what beings that are\\nCan e er escape while Life leads on and up the unseen\\nway and far\\nIf he escape not, by whom all was wrought,.\\nThen shall not we,\\nWhate er of godlike solace still may be,\\nFor in all worlds there is no Life without a pang, and\\ncan be nought.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "152 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nNo Life without a pang It were not Life,\\nIf ended were the strife\\nMan were not man, nor God were truly God\\nSee from the sod\\nThe lark thrill skyward in an arrow of song\\nEven so from pain and wrong\\nUpsprings the exultant spirit, wild and free.\\nHe knows not all the joy of liberty\\nWho never yet was crushed neath heavy woe.\\nHe doth not know,\\nNor can, the bliss of being brave\\nWho never hath faced death, nor with unquailing eye\\nhath measured his own grave.\\nCourage, and pity, and divinest scorn\\nSelf-scorn, self-pity, and high courage of the soul\\nThe passion for the goal\\nThe strength to never yield though all be lost\\nAll these are born\\nOf endless strife this is the eternal cost\\nOf every lovely thought that through the portal\\nOf human minds doth pass with following light.\\nBlanch not, O trembling mortal\\nBut with extreme and terrible delight\\nKnow thou the truth,\\nNor let thy heart be heavy with false ruth.\\nNo passing burden is our earthly sorrow\\nThat shall depart in some mysterious morrow.\\nT is His one universe where er we are\\nOne changeless law from sun to viewless star.\\nWere sorrow evil here, evil it were forever,\\nBeyond the scope and help of our most keen endeavor.\\nGod doth not dote,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "ODE 183\\nHis everlasting purpose shall not fail.\\nHere where our ears are weary with the wail\\nAnd weeping of the sufferers; there where the Pleiads\\nfloat\\nHere, there, forever, pain most dread and dire\\nDoth bring the intensest bliss, the dearest and most sure.\\nT is not from Life aside, it doth endure\\nDeep in the secret heart of all existence.\\nIt is the inward fire,\\nThe heavenly urge, and the divine insistence.\\nUplift thine eyes, O Questioner, from the sod\\nIt were no longer Life,\\nIf ended were the strife\\nMan were not man, God were not truly God.\\nPART VI\\nODE\\nRead before the Society of the Phi Beta Kappa, Harvard University.\\nJune 26, 1890.\\nIN the white midday s full imperious show\\nWhat glorious colors hide from human sight\\nBut in the breathing pause twixt day and night\\nForth stream those prisoned splendors, glow on glow;\\nLike billows on they pour\\nAnd beat against the shore\\nOf cloud-wrought cliffs high as the utmost dome,\\nTo die in purple waves that break on dawns to come.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "184 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nDivine, divine Oh, breathe no earthlier word\\nBehold the western heavens how swift they flame\\nWith hues that bring to mortal language shame\\nSwelling and pulsing like deep music heard\\nOn sacred summer eves\\nWhen the loud organ grieves\\nAnd thrills with lyric life the incensed air,\\nWhile mid the pillared gloom the people bow in prayer.\\nin\\nNow is it some huge bird with monstrous vans\\nThat through the sunset plies its shadowy way,\\nCatching on outstretched pinions the last play\\nOf failing tint celestial See it spans\\nDarkly the fading west,\\nAnd now its beamy crest\\nFollows from sight the glittering, golden sun\\nAnd now one mighty wing-beat more, and all is done.\\nIV\\nBut in those skyey spaces what dread change\\nThus have we seen the mortal turn immortal\\nSo doth the day s soul die, as through death s portal\\nThe soul of man takes up its heavenward range.\\nA million orbs endue\\nThe unfathomable blue\\nTill, the long miracle of night withdrawn,\\nThe world beholds once more the miracle of dawn.\\nDawn, eve, and night, the iridescent seas,\\nBright moon, enlightening sun, and quivering stars,\\nThe midnight rose whose petals are the bars", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "ODE 185\\nOf Boreal lights, the pomp of autumn trees,\\nThe pearl of curved shells,\\nThe prismy bow that swells\\nGainst stormy skies these witness, these are sign\\nOf thee, O spirit of Beauty, eternal and divine\\nVI\\nAnd fairer still than all, chief sign of all,\\nThe naked loveliness in Eden s bower,\\nWhose flesh blushed back the tint of fruit and flower;\\nWhose eye reflamed the starlight who could call\\nFather and friend the God\\nThat plucked them from the sod\\nThe Almighty s image, and Creation s height\\nWhose deep souls mirrored clear the circling day and\\nnight.\\nVII\\nSpirit of Beauty neath thy joyful spell\\nMan hath been ever therefore doth each breeze\\nBring to his tranced ears glad melodies,\\nVoices of birds, the brook s low, silvery bell,\\nWild music manifold,\\nWhich he hath power to hold\\nHis own enchanted harmonies among,\\nThat echo round the world the songs that nature sung.\\nVIII\\nAnd thus all Beautiful in Holiness\\nDoth Israel stand before the Eternal One;\\nStriking his harp with rapt, angelic tone,\\nTill tribes and nations the Unseen God confess\\nKnowing that only where\\nHis face makes white the air", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "1 86 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nCould such seraphic song have mortal birth,\\nOne saving faith sublime to keep alive on earth.\\nIX\\nAnd therefore with most passionate desire\\nAnd longing, man yearned ever to express\\nThy majesty, and light, and loveliness,\\nO Spirit of Beauty, unconsuming fire\\nTherefore by ancient Nile\\nRose the vast columned aisle,\\nAnd on the Athenian Hill the wonder white\\nWhose shattered ruins are the world s supreme delight.\\nSo is it that to thy imperial shore,\\nBright Italy the generations fly,\\nEven but once to breathe, or e er they die,\\nWhere did a godlike race its soul outpour\\nIts birth divine revealing\\nOn glorious wall and ceiling,\\nWhile dome and rhythmic statue, Beauty- wrought,\\nDeclare all human art is but what Heaven hath taught.\\nXI\\nFair Italy whose dread and peerless height\\nThe song is of the awful Ghibelline\\nPoet who mid the threefold dream divine\\nDidst follow Art and Love to the Central Light\\nTell us, O Dante tell\\nWhat thou dost know so well,\\nThat horror and death are but the shade and foil\\nOf Beauty, deathless, godlike, and without assoil.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "ODE 187\\nXII\\nSpirit divine man falls upon the sod\\nIn awe of thee, in worship and amaze\\nThou older than the mountains, or the blaze\\nOf sunsets, or the sun thou old as God\\nAs God who did create\\nLong ere man reached his state\\nAll shapes of natural Beauty that men see,\\nAnd his wide universe did dedicate to thee.\\nXIII\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094Ye who bear on the torch of living art\\nIn this new world, saved for some wondrous fate,-\\nDeem not that ye have come, alas, too late,\\nBut haste right forward with unfailing heart\\nYe shall not rest forlorn;\\nBehold, even now, the morn\\nRises in splendor from the orient sea,\\nAnd the new world shall greet a new divinity.\\nxiv\\nShall greet, ah, who can say a nobler face\\nThan from the foam of Cytherean seas\\nLoveliness lovelier mightier harmonies\\nOf song and color an intenser grace\\nBeauty that shall endure\\nLike Charis, heavenly-pure\\nA Spirit solemn as the starry night,\\nAnd full as the triumphant dawn of golden light.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "i88 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAFTER-SONG\\nTO ROSAMOND\\nROSE of the world,\\nBloom of the year,\\nBirth of the dawn\\nBy morn s one star\\nLighted to life\\nThou and my songs\\nCome to the day\\nHand clasped in hand.\\nFlung on this page\\nMay the glow of thy name\\nBack through each song\\nShine with the light\\nDrawn from the skies\\nThou birth of the dawn,\\nFlower of the morn,\\nRose of the world", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE\\nAND OTHER POEMS", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE\\nRead at the Annual Reunion of the Society of the Army of the\\nPotomac, Faneuil Hall, Boston, June 27, 1893.\\nCOMRADES, the circle narrows, heads grow white,\\nAs once more by the camp-fire s flaring light\\nWe gather and clasp hands, as we have done\\nThese many, many years. So long ago\\nA part we were of all that glorious show,\\nStood, side by side, neath the red battle-sun,\\nSo long ago we breathed war s thunderous breath,\\nKnew the white fury of that life-in-death,\\nSo long ago that troubled joy, it seems\\nThe valorous pageant might resolve to splendid dreams.\\nBut no Too deep t is burned into the brain\\nAs well were lightning-scar by summer rain\\nWashed clean away, when stroke on blinding stroke\\nHath torn the rock, and riven the blackened oak.\\nHow oft as down these peaceful streets we pass\\nAll vanishes save, lo the rutted grass,\\nWrecked caissons, frightened beasts, and, merciful God\\nThe piteous burden of the ensanguined sod\\nYet not all terror doth the memory save\\nFrom war s emblazonry and open grave\\nIn glimpses, flashing like a meteor s light,\\nA silent army marches through the night\\nThe guidons flutter in a golden valley\\nWhere, at the noonday halt, the horsemen dally\\nOr, look a thousand tents gleam through the black\\nOr, now, where quick-built camp-fires flame and crack,\\n12* 191", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "192 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nFrom blaze to shade men stretch o erwearied limbs,\\nChant songs, or wake the hills with chorused hymns\\nOr, ere the dawn makes pale the starry dark,\\nThe fiery signals, spark on trailing spark,\\nWrite on the silent sky their still command,\\nWhile the great army moves, drawn by a single hand.\\nSo long ago it seems, so long ago,\\nBehold, our sons, grown men since those great days,\\nBorn since the last clear bugle ceased to blow\\nIts summons down the valley since the bays\\nShook with the roar of fort and answering fleet,\\nOur very children look into our eyes\\nAnd find strange records, with a mute surprise;\\nAs they some curious traveler might greet\\nWho kept far countries in his musing mind,\\nBeyond the weltering seas, the mountain-walls behind.\\nAnd yet it was this land and not another,\\nWhere blazed war s flame and rolled the battle-cloud.\\nIn all this land there was no home where brother,\\nFather, or son hurried not forth where bowed\\nNo broken-hearted woman when pale Death\\nLaid his cold finger on the loved one s breath.\\nLike to a drama did the scene unroll\\nSome dark, majestic drama of the soul,\\nWherein all strove as actors, hour by hour,\\nYet breathless watched the whole swift, tragic play.\\nFaithful did each his little part essay,\\nUrged to an end unknown by one all-knowing Power\\nWhile if the drama pauses, now and then,\\nOn the huge stage, t is for a moment only\\nHere at the heart or in some vista lonely,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 193\\nA single hero or a million men,\\nAnd with the tragic theme the world resounds again.\\nFirst, in the awful waiting came the shock,\\nThe shame unbearable, the sacred flag assailed\\nAssailed in freedom s name by those who freedom mock!\\nAh, then the oath, to stand as stands the rock\\nGainst flood and tempest, lest that flag be trailed\\nAnd torn, or any star therefrom be lost\\nThe oath, murmured alone, or where the crowd,\\nAs by a wind of heaven swept and tost,\\nPassioned its soul to God, and strong men wept aloud.\\nThen sweet farewell O bitter-sweet farewell\\nO brave farewell Who were the bravest then,\\nOr they who went, or waited women or men?\\nThey who the cheers heard, or the funeral knell\\nThey who stepped proudly to the rattling drum,\\nInflamed by war s divine delirium,\\nOr they who knew no mad joy of the fight,\\nAnd yet breathed on through waiting day and weeping\\nnight\\nFarewell and forward Oh, to live it over,\\nThe first wild heart-beat of heroic hours\\nForward, like mountain-torrents after showers\\nForward to death, as to his bride the lover\\nForward, till quick recoils the impetuous flood,\\nAnd ends the first dread scene in terror and in blood\\nOnward once more, through sun and shivering\\nstorm,\\nA monstrous length with wavering bulk enorm,\\nWounded or striking, bringing blood or bleeding,\\nOnward, still on, the agony unheeding\\nOnward with failing heart, or courage high", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "194 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nOnward through heat, and hunger, and dismay,\\nTurning the starry night to murderous day\\nOnward, with hope appalled, once more to strike, and die\\nSo marched, so fought, so agonized, the hosts\\nBattling through forests rotting where slow crawls\\nThe deathly swamp-stream and like pallid ghosts\\nHaunting the hospitals, and loathed prison-walls.\\nThey knew what freedom was, and right to breathe\\nClean air who burrowed from the filth and seethe\\nOf foulest pens, only that dogs might track,\\nAnd to the death-pit drag their living corpses back.\\nOh, would to Heaven some sights could fade from out\\nClear memory s all too melancholy page\\nFade and be gone forever! Let the shout\\nOf victory only linger, and the rage\\nAnd glory of battle over land and sea,\\nAnd all that noblest is in war s fierce pageantry.\\nEchoes of deeds immortal, Oh, awake\\nTremble to language, into music break,\\nTill lyric memory takes the old emotion,\\nAnd leaps from heart to heart the ancient thrill\\nTell of great deeds that yet the wide earth fill\\nHow first upon the amazed waves of ocean\\nThe black, infernal, deadly armored-ships\\nTogether rushed, and all the world stood still,\\nWhile a new word of war burst from those iron lips\\nHow up the rivers thundered the strong fleets\\nHow the great captains gainst each other dashed\\nGigantic armies. What wild welcome meets\\nSome well-loved chief who, ere those armies clashed,\\nRides like a whirlwind the embattled line,\\nKindling the stricken ranks to bravery divine", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 195\\nAnd, hark, at set of sun, the cheer that greets\\nVictorious news from far-off armies, flashed\\nFrom camp to camp, with roar on answering roar,\\nLike bellowing waves that track the tempest down the\\nshore.\\nBut chiefly tell of that one hour of all\\nWhen threatening war rolled highest its full tide,\\nEven to the perilous northern mountain-side\\nWhere Heaven should bid our good cause rise or fall.\\nTell of that hour, for never in all the world\\nWas braver army against braver hurled.\\nTo both the victory, all unawares,\\nBeyond all dreams of losing or of winning\\nFor the new land which now is ours and theirs,\\nHad on that topmost day its glorious beginning.\\nThey who charged up that drenched and desperate slope\\nWere heroes all and looked in heroes eyes\\nAh heroes never heroes did despise\\nThat day had Strife its bloodiest bourn and scope\\nAbove the shaken hills and sulphurous skies\\nPeace lifted up her mournful head and smiled on Hope.\\nRushed the great drama on its tragic way\\nSwift to the happy end from that tremendous day.\\nHappy, indeed, could memory lose her power\\nAnd yield to joy alone the glad, triumphant hour\\nHappy if every aching heart could shun\\nRemembrance of the unreturning one\\nIf at the Grand Review, when mile on mile\\nAnd day on day the marching columns passed,\\nDarkened not o er the world the shadow vast\\nOf his foul murder he the free from guile,\\nSad-hearted, loving, and beloved, and wise,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "196 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWho ruled with sinewy hands and dreaming eyes.\\nWhat soul that lived then who remembers not\\nThe hour, the landscape, ah the very spot,\\nHateful for aye, where news that he was slain\\nFell like a hammer on the dazed brain\\nSo long ago it was, so long ago,\\nAll, all have passed; the terror and the splendor\\nHave turned like yesterevening s stormy glow\\nInto a sunset memory strange and tender.\\nHow beautiful it seems, what lordly sights,\\nWhat deeds sublime, what wondrous days and nights,\\nWhat love of comrades, ay, what quickened breath,\\nWhen first we knew that, startled, quailing, still\\nWe too, even we, along the blazing hill,\\nWe, with the best, could face and conquer death\\nGlorious all these, but these all less than nought\\nTo the one passion of those days divine,\\nLove of the land our own hearts blood had bought\\nOur country, our own country, yours and mine,\\nThen known, then sternly loved, first in our lives.\\nAh loved we not our children, sisters, wives\\nBut our own country, this was more than they,\\nOur wives, our children, this, our hope, our love\\nFor all most dear, but more the dawning day\\nOf freedom for the world, the hope above\\nAll hope for the sad race of man. For where,\\nIn what more lovely world, neath skies more fair,\\nIf freedom here should fail, could it find soil and air\\nIn this one thought, one passion, whate er fate\\nStill may befall, one moment we were great!\\nOne moment in life s brief, perplexed hour\\nWe climbed the height of being, and the power", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 197\\nThat falls alone on those who love their kind\\nA moment made us one with the Eternal Mind.\\nOne moment, ah not so, dear Country Thou\\nArt still our passion still to thee we bow\\nIn love supreme Fairer than e er before\\nArt thou to-day, from golden shore to shore\\nThe home of freemen. Not one stain doth cling\\nNow to thy banner. Argosies of war\\nOn thy imperial rivers bravely fling\\nFlags of the nations, but no message bring\\nSave of peace only while, behold, from far\\nThe Old World comes to greet thy natal star\\nThat with the circling century returns,\\nAnd in the Western heavens with fourfold beauty burns\\nLand that we love Thou Future of the World\\nThou refuge of the noble heart oppressed\\nOh never be thy shining image hurled\\nFrom its high place in the adoring breast\\nOf him who worships thee with jealous love\\nKeep thou thy starry forehead as the dove\\nAll white, and to the eternal Dawn inclined\\nThou art not for thyself but for mankind,\\nAnd to despair of thee were to despair\\nOf man, of man s high destiny, of God\\nOf thee should man despair, the journey trod\\nUpward, through unknown eons, stair on stair,\\nBy this our race, with bleeding feet and slow,\\nWere but the pathway to a darker woe\\nThan yet was visioned by the heavy heart\\nOf prophet. To despair of thee Ah no\\nFor thou thyself art Hope, Hope of the World thou art", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "198 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nComrades belov6d, see, the fire burns low,\\nAnd darkness thickens. Soon shall our brief part\\nOn earth forever end, and we shall go\\nTo join the unseen ranks; nor will we swerve\\nOr fear, when to the silent, great reserve\\nAt last we ordered are as one by one\\nOur Captains have been called, their labors done,\\nTo rest and wait in the Celestial Field.\\nAy, year by year, we to the dead did yield\\nOur bravest. Them we followed to the tomb\\nSorrowing; for they were worthy of our love\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nHigh-souled and generous, loving peace above\\nWar and its glories therefore lives no gloom\\nIn this our sorrow rather pride, and praise,\\nAnd gratitude, and memory of old days.\\nA little while and these tired hands will cease\\nTo lift obedient or in war or peace\\nFaithful we trust in peace as erst in war\\nAnd on the scroll of peace some triumphs are\\nNoble as battles won though less resounds\\nThe fame, as deep and bitter are the wounds.\\nBut now the fire burns low, and we must sleep\\nErelong, while other eyes than ours the vigil keep.\\nAnd after we are gone, to other eyes\\nThat watch below shall come, in starry skies,\\nA fairer dawn, whereon in fiery light\\nThe Eternal Captain shall his signals write\\nAnd shaken from rest, and gazing at that sign,\\nOn shall the mighty Nation move, led by a hand divine.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "THE WHITE CITY 199\\nPART II\\nTHE WHITE CITY\\nGREECE was; Greece is no more.\\nTemple and town\\nHave crumbled down;\\nTime is the fire that hath consumed them all.\\nStatue and wall\\nIn ruin strew the universal floor.\\nGreece lives, but Greece no more\\nIts ashes breed\\nThe undying seed\\nBlown westward till, in Rome s imperial towers,\\nAthens reflowers\\nStill westward lo, a veiled and virgin shore\\nin\\nSay not, Greece is no more.\\nThrough the clear morn\\nOn light winds borne\\nHer white-winged soul sinks on the New World s breast.\\nAh happy West\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nGreece flowers anew, and all her temples soar\\nIV\\nOne bright hour, then no more\\nShall to the skies\\nThese columns rise.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "200 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nBut though art s flower shall fade, again the seed\\nOnward shall speed,\\nQuickening the land from lake to ocean s roar.\\nv\\nArt lives, though Greece may never\\nFrom the ancient mold\\nAs once of old\\nExhale to heaven the inimitable bloom;\\nYet from that tomb\\nBeauty walks forth to light the world forever\\nTHE VANISHING CITY\\nEnraptured memory, and all ye powers of being,\\nTo new life waken Stamp the vision clear\\nOn the soul s inmost substance. Oh, let seeing\\nBe more than seeing let the entranced ear\\nTake deep these surging sounds, inweaved with light\\nOf unimagined radiance; let the intense\\nIllumined loveliness that thrills the night\\nStrike in the human heart some deeper sense\\nSo shall these domes that meet heaven s curved blue,\\nAnd yon long, white imperial colonnade,\\nAnd many-columned peristyle endue\\nThe mind with beauty that shall never fade\\nThough all too soon to dark oblivion wending\\nReared in one happy hour to know as swift an ending.\\nii\\nThou shalt of all the cities of the world\\nFamed for their grandeur, ever more endure", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "THE VANISHING CITY 201\\nImperishably and all alone impearled\\nIn the world s living thought, the one most sure\\nOf love undying and of endless praise\\nFor beauty only chief of all thy kind\\nImmortal, even because of thy brief days\\nThou cloud-built, fairy city of the mind\\nHere man doth pluck from the full tree of life\\nThe latest, lordliest flower of earthly art\\nThis doth he breathe, while resting from his strife,\\nThis presses he against his weary heart\\nThen, wakening from his dream within a dream,\\nHe flings the faded flower on Time s down-rushing\\nstream.\\nin\\nOh, never as here in the eternal years\\nHath burst to bloom man s free and soaring spirit,\\nJoyous, untrammeled, all untouched by tears\\nAnd the dark weight of woe it doth inherit.\\nNever so swift the mind s imaginings\\nCaught sculptured form, and color. Never before,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nSave where the soul beats unembodied wings\\nGainst viewless skies, was such enchanted shore\\nJeweled with ivory palaces like these\\nBy day a miracle, a dream by night\\nYet real as beauty is, and as the seas\\nWhose waves glance back keen lines of glittering light\\nWhen million lamps, and coronets of fire,\\nAnd fountains as of flame, to the bright stars aspire.\\nIV\\nGlide, magic boat, from out the green lagoon,\\nNeath the dark bridge, into this smiting glow", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "202 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAnd unthought glory. Even the glistening moon\\nHangs in the nearer splendor. Let not go\\nThe scene, my soul, till ever t is thine own\\nThis is Art s citadel and crown. How still\\nThe innumerous multitudes from every zone,\\nThat watch and listen while each eye doth fill\\nWith joyous tears unwept. Now solemn strains\\nOf brazen music give the waiting soul\\nVoice and a sigh it other speech disdains,\\nHere where the visual sense faints to its goal\\nAh, silent multitudes, ye are a part\\nOf the wise architect s supreme and glorious art\\nO joy almost too high for saddened mortal\\nO ecstasy envisioned Thou shouldst be\\nLasting as thou art lovely as immortal\\nAs through all time the matchless thought of thee\\nYet would we miss, then, the sweet, piercing pain\\nOf thy inconstancy Could we but banish\\nThis haunting pang, ah, then thou wouldst not reign\\nOne with the golden sunset that doth vanish\\nThrough myriad lingering tints down melting skies\\nNor the pale mystery of the New World flower\\nThat blooms once only, then forever dies\\nPouring a century s wealth on one dear hour.\\nThen vanish, City of Dream, and be no more\\nSoon shall this fair Earth s self be lost on the unknown\\nshore.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "LOWELL 203\\nTHE TOWER OF FLAME\\nTHE COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION, JULY IO, 1 893\\nHere for the world to see men brought their fairest,\\nWhatever of beauty is in all the earth\\nThe priceless flower of art, the loveliest, rarest,\\nHere by our inland ocean came to glorious birth.\\n11\\nYet on this day of doom a strange new splendor\\nShed its celestial light on all men s eyes\\nFlower of the hero-soul, consummate, tender,\\nThat from the tower of flame sprang to the eternal skies.\\nLOWELL\\nFrom the shade of the elms that murmured above thy\\nbirth\\nAnd the pines that sheltered thy life and shadowed the\\nend,\\nNeath the white-blue skies thee to thy rest we bore,\\nNeath the summer skies thou didst love, mid the\\nsongs of thy birds,\\nBy thy childhood s stream, neath the grass and the\\nflowers thou knewest,\\nNear the grave of the singer whose name with thine\\nown is enlaureled,\\nBy the side of the brave who live in thy deathless song,\\nHere all that was mortal of thee we left, with our tears,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "204 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nWith our love, and our grief that could not be quenched\\nor abated\\nFor even the part that was mortal, sweet friend and com-\\npanion\\nThat face, and that figure of beauty, and flashing eye\\nWhich in youth shone forth like a god s mid lesser men,\\nAnd in gray-haired, strenuous age still glowed and lus-\\ntered,\\nThese, too, were dear to us, blame us not, soaring spirit\\nThese, too, were dear, and now we shall never behold\\nthem,\\nNor ever shall feel the quick clasp of thy welcoming hand.\\nii\\nBut not for ourselves alone are we spent in grieving,\\nFor the stricken Land we mourn whose light is darkened,\\nWhose soul in sorrow went forth in the night-time with\\nthine.\\nLover and laureate thou of the wide New World,\\nWhose pines, and prairies, and people, and teeming soil,\\nWhere was shaken of old the seed of the freedom of men,\\nThou didst love as a strong man loveth the maiden he\\nwoos,\\nNot the woman he toys with, and sings to, and, passing,\\nforgets,\\nWhom he woos, whom he wins, whom he weds his pas-\\nsion, his pride\\nWho no shadow of wrong shall suffer, who shall stand\\nin his sight\\nPure as the sky of the evil her foeman may threat,\\nSave by word or by thought of her own in her whiteness\\nuntouched,\\nAnd wounded alone of the lightning her spirit engenders.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "ON THE DEATH OF A GREAT MAN 205\\nIII\\nTake of thy grief new strength, new life, O Land\\nWeep no more he is lost, but rejoice and be glad forever\\nThat thy lover who died was born, for thy pleasure, thy\\nglory\\nWhile his love and his fame light ever thy climbing path.\\nAugust 14, 1891.\\nTHE SILENCE OF TENNYSON\\nWhen that great shade into the silence vast\\nThrough thinking silence passed\\nWhen he, our century s soul and voice, was hushed,\\nWe who, appalled, bowed, crushed,\\nWithin the holy moonlight of his death\\nWaited the parting breath\\nAh, not in song\\nMight we our grief prolong.\\nSilence alone, O golden spirit fled\\nSilence alone could mourn that silence dread.\\nON THE DEATH OF A GREAT MAN\\nWhen from this mortal scene\\nA great soul passes to the vast unknown,\\nLet not in hopeless grief the spirit groan.\\nDeath comes to all, the mighty and the mean.\\nIf by that death the whole world suffer loss,\\nThis be the proof (and lighter thus our cross),\\nThat he for whom the world doth sorely grieve\\nGreatly hath blessed mankind in that he once did live.\\nThen, at the parting breath\\nLet men praise Life, nor idly blame dark Death.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "206 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nA HERO OF PEACE\\nIN MEMORY OF ROBERT ROSS: SHOT MARCH 6, 1 894\\nI\\nNo bugle on the blast\\nCalls warriors face to face\\nGrim battle being forever past,\\nGone is the hero-race.\\nAh no there is no peace\\nIf liberty shall live\\nNever may freemen dare to cease\\nTheir love, their life to give.\\nin\\nUnto the patriot s heart\\nThe silent summons comes\\nNot braver he who does his part\\nTo the sound of beating drums.\\nIV\\nAnd thou who gavest youth,\\nAnd life, and all most dear\\nSweet soul, impassionate of truth,\\nWhite on thy murdered bier!\\nThy deed, thy date, thy name\\nAre wreathed with deathless flowers.\\nThy fate shall be the guiding flame\\nThat lights to nobler hours.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "WASHINGTON AT TRENTON 207\\nWASHINGTON AT TRENTON\\nTHE BATTLE MONUMENT, OCTOBER 1 9, 1 893\\nSince ancient Time began\\nEver on some great soul God laid an infinite burden\\nThe weight of all this world, the hopes of man.\\nConflict and pain, and fame immortal are his guerdon\\nAnd this the unfaltering token\\nOf him, the Deliverer what though tempests beat,\\nThough all else fail, though bravest ranks be broken,\\nHe stands unscared, alone, nor ever knows defeat.\\nSuch was that man of men\\nAnd if are praised all virtues, every fame\\nMost noble, highest, purest then, ah then,\\nUpleaps in every heart the name none needs to name.\\nYe who defeated, whelmed,\\nBetray the sacred cause, let go the trust\\nSleep, weary, while the vessel drifts unhelmedj\\nHere see in triumph rise the hero from the dust\\nAll ye who fight forlorn\\nGainst fate and failure; ye who proudly cope\\nWith evil high enthroned; all ye who scorn\\nLife from Dishonor s hand, here take new heart of hope.\\nHere know how Victory borrows\\nFor the brave soul a front as of disaster,\\nAnd in the bannered East what glorious morrows\\nFor all the blackness of the night speed surer, faster.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "208 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nKnow by this pillared sign\\nFor what brief while the powers of earth and hell\\nCan war against the spirit of truth divine,\\nOr can against the heroic heart of man prevail.\\nFAME\\nFame is an honest thing,\\nIt is deceived not\\nIt passes by the palace gates\\nWhere the crowned usurper waits,\\nEnters the peasant-poet s cot\\nAnd cries Thou art the king\\nA MONUMENT BY ST. GAUDENS\\nThis is not Death, nor Sorrow, nor sad Hope;\\nNor Rest that follows strife. But, oh more dread\\nT is Life, for all its agony serene\\nImmortal, and unmournful, and content.\\nA MEMORY OF RUBINSTEIN\\nHe of the ocean is, its thunderous waves\\nEcho his music while far down the shore\\nMad laughter hurries a white, blowing spume.\\nI hear again in memory that wild storm\\nThe winds of heaven go rushing round the world,\\nAnd broods above the rage one sphinx-like face.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "HOW PADEREWSKI PLAYS 209\\nHOW PADEREWSKI PLAYS\\nIf songs were perfume, color, wild desire\\nIf poet s words were fire\\nThat burned to blood in purple-pulsing veins\\nIf with a bird-like thrill the moments throbbed to hours.\\nIf summer s rains\\nTurned drop by drop to shy, sweet, maiden flowers\\nIf God made flowers with light and music in them,\\nAnd saddened hearts could win them\\nIf loosened petals touched the ground\\nWith a caressing sound\\nIf love s eyes uttered word\\nNo listening lover e er before had heard\\nIf silent thoughts spake with a bugle s voice\\nIf flame passed into song and cried, Rejoice Rejoice\\nIf words could picture life s, hope s, heaven s eclipse\\nWhen the last kiss has fallen on dying eyes and lips\\nIf all of mortal woe\\nStruck on one heart with breathless blow on blow\\nIf melody were tears, and tears were starry gleams\\nThat shone in evening s amethystine dreams\\nAh, yes, if notes were stars, each star a different hue,\\nTrembling to earth in dew\\nOr if the boreal pulsings, rose and white,\\nMade a majestic music in the night;\\nIf all the orbs lost in the light of day\\nIn the deep, silent blue began their harps to play\\nAnd when in frightening skies the lightnings flashed\\nAnd storm-clouds crashed,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "210 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIf every stroke of light and sound were but excess of\\nbeauty\\nIf human syllables could e er refashion\\nThat fierce electric passion\\nIf other art could match (as were the poet s duty)\\nThe grieving, and the rapture, and the thunder\\nOf that keen hour of wonder,\\nThat light as if of heaven, that blackness as of hell,\\nHow Paderewski plays then might I dare to tell.\\nHow Paderewski plays And was it he\\nOr some disbodied spirit which had rushed\\nFrom silence into singing and had crushed\\nInto one startled hour a life s felicity,\\nAnd highest bliss of knowledge that all life, grief,\\nwrong,\\nTurn at the last to beauty and to song\\nHANDEL S LARGO\\nWhen the great organs, answering each to each,\\nJoined with the violin s celestial speech,\\nThen did it seem that all the heavenly host\\nGave praise to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost\\nWe saw the archangels through the ether winging\\nWe heard their souls go forth in solemn singing\\nPraise, praise to God, they sang, through endless\\ndays,\\nPraise to the Eternal One, and nought but praise", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "THE STRICKEN PLAYER 21 1\\nAnd as they sang the spirits of the dying\\nWere upward borne from lips that ceased their sighing\\nAnd dying was not death, but deeper living\\nLiving, and prayer, and praising and thanksgiving\\nTHE STAIRWAY\\nBy this stairway narrow, steep,\\nThou shalt climb from song to sleep\\nFrom sleep to dream and song once more\\nSleep well, sweet friend, sleep well, dream deep\\nTHE ACTOR\\ni\\nGlorious that ancient art\\nIn thine own form to show the fire and fashion\\nOf every age and clime, of every passion\\nThat dwells in man s deep heart\\nii\\nPlayer, play well, not meanly,\\nThy part in life, as on the mimic stage\\nFrom highest thought is born art s noblest rage\\nLive, act, end all, serenely\\nTHE STRICKEN PLAYER\\nWhen at life s last the stricken player lies,\\nWhen throng before his darkened, dreaming eyes\\nHis soul s companions, which more real then\\nThe human comrades, the live women and men", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "212 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nOf the large world he knew, or the ideal\\nImagined creatures his own art made real\\nWherein he poured his spirit s very being,\\nHis soul and body Are those dim eyes seeing\\nHimself as one of Shakespeare s men Are maids\\nAnd queens he wooed, the kings he was, or knew\\nUpon the tragic stage, are these the shades\\nThat now his visionary hours pursue,\\nAttendant on his passing Listen near\\nWhat breathed murmurs scape those pallid lips\\nTo which the nations hearkened, ere the eclipse\\nOf all that brightness Now lean close and hear;\\nAh, see that look, sweeter than when he smiled\\nUpon the applauding world, while she draws near\\nAnd hears a dear voice whisper Child, my Child\\nAN AUTUMN DIRGE\\n(E. F. H.)\\nI\\nOh ease my heart, sad song, oh ease my heart\\nIn all this autumn pageantry no part\\nHath sorrow Woods, and fields, and meadows glow\\nWith jeweled colors. All alone I go\\nAmid the poignant beauty of the year\\nToo heavy-hearted for one easeful tear.\\nFor she who loved this autumn splendor,\\nThese flaming marsh-flowers, oak-leaves rich and ten-\\nder,\\nAnd who in loving all, made all to me more dear,\\nNo more is here,\\nNo more, no more is here", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "AN AUTUMN DIRGE 213\\nSad song, oh bring some thought\\nWith music from some happy memory caught\\nNo light for me in all the lovely day\\nThose eyes being shut that first did lead the way\\nNeath these great pines whose green vault hides the sky,\\nAnd down the rock-strewn shore where the white sea-\\nbirds cry\\n11\\nAll fades but those young, happy hours\\nAnd in my soul once more the old joy flowers.\\nIt flowers once more only to bring new pain\\nFor all in vain,\\nO song thou singest in my grieving heart\\nThou hast no art\\nTo bring again the smile I loved so well,\\nThe voice that like a bell\\nSounded all moods of sorrow and of laughter,\\nAnd the dear presence that in childhood s earliest\\nthought\\nAnd all the bright or darkened days thereafter\\nInto my life a saddened sweetness brought\\nSomething of mother and of sister love,\\nA friendship far above\\nThe ties that bind and loosen as we tread\\nThe thronged pleasures of life s later days.\\nSweet maiden soul, I cannot praise\\nBut mourn thee, mourn thee, to the shadows fled.\\nin\\nShadows, O never more\\nFor when passed forth thy spirit it did seem\\nAs if against the black a golden door\\nWere opened and a gleam", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "214 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nFrom the eternal Light fell on thy face\\nAnd made a visible glory in the place.\\nAh, well I know\\nWhatever be the source from whence we flow,\\nWhate er the power begot these hearts of ours,\\nAs the great earth brings forth the summer flowers,\\nThat power is good, is God, and in her dying room\\nHumaned itself to sense and lightened all the gloom.\\nELEONORA DUSE\\nIf ever flashed upon this mortal scene\\nA soul unsheathed, a pale, trembling flame,\\nThat suffered every gust, and yet did cling\\nWith fire unquenchable it is thine own,\\nThou artist of the real Unto thee\\nNo mirth of life is secret but, sweet soul,\\nWith what sure art thou picturest human woe\\nHow natural tears to those Italian eyes\\nShadowing in untold depths whatever grief\\nFamiliar is to mortals\\nKELP ROCK\\n(E. C. S.)\\nRock s the song-soil, truly\\n(So sang one bard of power);\\nTherefore our poet duly\\nBuilt on this rock his tower.\\nAnd therefore in his singing\\nWe breathe the salty morning,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "AT NIAGARA 215\\nWe hear the storm-bell ringing,\\nThe siren s piercing warning\\nThe sea- winds roaring, sighing,\\nThe long waves rising, falling,\\nWe hear the herons calling,\\nThe clashing waves replying.\\nCHARLESTON\\n1886.\\nIs this the price of beauty! Fairest, thou,\\nOf all the cities of the sunrise sea,\\nYet thrice art stricken. First, war harried thee\\nThen the dread circling tempest drove its plow\\nRight through thy palaces and now, O now\\nA sound of terror, and thy children flee\\nInto the night and death. O Deity\\nThou God of war and whirlwind, whose dark brow,\\nFrowning, makes tremble sea and solid land\\nThese are thy creatures who to heaven cry\\nWhile hell roars neath them, and its portals ope\\nTo thee they call, O thou who bidst them die,\\nWho hast forgotten to withhold thy hand,\\nFor thou, Destroyer, art man s only Hope!\\nAT NIAGARA\\n1\\nThere at the chasm s edge behold her lean\\nTrembling as, neath the charm,\\nA wild bird lifts no wing to scape from harm\\nHer very soul drawn to the glittering, green,", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "2l6 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nSmooth, lustrous, awful, lovely curve of peril;\\nWhile far below the bending sea of beryl\\nThunder and tumult whence a billowy spray\\nEnclouds the day.\\nii\\nWhat dream is hers? No dream hath wrought that\\nspell\\nThe long waves rise and sink\\nPity that virgin soul on passion s brink,\\nConfronting Fate, swift, unescapable,\\nFate, which of nature is the intent and core,\\nAnd dark and strong as the steep river s pour,\\nCruel as love, and wild as love s first kiss\\nAh, God the abyss\\nTHE CHILD-GARDEN\\nIn the child-garden buds and blows\\nA blossom lovelier than the rose.\\nIf all the flowers of all the earth\\nIn one garden broke to birth,\\nNot the fairest of the fair\\nCould with this sweet bloom compare\\nNor would all their shining be\\nPeer to its lone bravery.\\nFairer than the rose, I say\\nFairer than the sun-bright day\\nIn whose rays all glories show,\\nAll beauty is, all blossoms blow.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "THE CHRIST CHILD 217\\nWhile beside it deeply shine\\nBlooms that take its light divine\\nThe perilous sweet flower of Hope\\nHere its hiding eyes doth ope,\\nAnd Gentleness doth near uphold\\nIts healing leaves and heart of gold\\nHere tender fingers push the seed\\nOf Knowledge pluck the poisonous weed\\nHere blossoms Joy one singing hour,\\nAnd here of Love the immortal flower.\\nWhat this blossom, fragrant, tender,\\nThat outbeams the rose s splendor;\\nPurer is, more tinct with light\\nThan the lily s flame of white\\nOf beauty hath this flower the whole,\\nAnd its name the Human Soul\\nTHE CHRIST-CHILD\\nA PICTURE BY FRANK VINCENT DU MOND\\nI\\nDone is the day of care.\\nInto the shadowy room\\nFlows the pure evening light,\\nTo stem the gathering gloom,\\nThe lily s flame illume,\\nAnd the bowed heads make bright\\nThe heads bowed low in prayer.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "218 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nSee how the level rays\\nThrough the white garments pour\\nOf the holy child, who stands,\\nWith bending brow, to implore\\nGrace on the toilers store\\nOh, see those sinless hands\\nBehold, the Christ-child prays\\nin\\nWait, wait, ye lingering rays,\\nStand still, O Earth and Sun,\\nDraw near, thou Soul of God\\nThis is the suffering one\\nAlready the way is begun\\nThe pierced Saviour trod;\\nAnd now the Christ- child prays,\\nThe holy Christ-child prays.\\nA CHILD\\ni\\nHer voice was like the song of birds\\nHer eyes were like the stars\\nHer little waving hands were like\\nBird s wings that beat the bars.\\nAnd when those waving hands were still,\\nHer soul had fled away,\\nThe music faded from the air,\\nThe color from the day.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "ON THE BAY 219\\nTWO VALLEYS\\nYes, t is a glorious sight,\\nThis valley, that mountain height.\\nThe river plunges and roars\\nLike the wild sea on its shores\\nWhat time in waves enorm\\nBreaks the gigantic storm.\\nThe wooded mount doth climb\\nTo a thought intense, sublime.\\nThe glory of all I feel\\nBut my heart, my heart, will steal\\nDown the journey of years,\\nThrough the vale of life, and of tears,\\nFar back to the least of valleys\\nWhere a slow brook curves and dallies,\\nWhere a boy, in the twilight gleam,\\nWalks alone with his dream.\\nON THE BAY\\nThis watery vague how vast This misty globe,\\nSeen from this center where the ferry plies,\\nIt plies, but seems to poise in middle air,\\nSoft gray below gray heavens, and in the west\\nA rose-gray memory of the sunken sun\\nAnd, where gray water touches grayer sky,\\nA band of darker gray pricked out with lights\\nA diamond-twinkling circlet bounding all", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "220 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAnd where the statue looms, a quenchless star\\nAnd where the lighthouse, a red, pulsing flame\\nWhile the great bridge its starry diadem\\nLifts through the gray, itself in grayness lost\\nWASHINGTON SQUARE\\nThis is the end of the town that I love the best.\\nOh, lovely the hour of light from the burning west\\nOf light that lingers and fades in the shadowy square\\nWhere the solemn fountain lifts a shaft in the air\\nTo catch the skyey colors, and fling them down\\nIn a wild-wood torrent that drowns the noise of the town.\\nAnd lovely the hour of the still and dreamy night\\nWhen, lifted against the blue, stands the arch of white\\nWith one clear planet above and the sickle moon,\\nIn curve reversed from the arch s marble round,\\nSilvers the sapphire sky. Now soon, ah soon,\\nShall the city square be turned to holy ground\\nThrough the light of the moon and the stars and the\\nglowing flower,\\nThe Cross of Light, that looms from the sacred tower.\\nTHE CITY\\nOh, dear is the song of the pine\\nWhen the wind of the night-time blows,\\nAnd dear is the murmuring river\\nThat afar through my childhood flows", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "A RHYME OF TYRINGHAM 221\\nAnd soft is the raindrop s beat\\nAnd the fountain s lyric play,\\nBut to me no music is half so sweet\\nAs the thunder of Broadway\\nii\\nStream of the living world\\nWhere dash the billows of strife\\nOne plunge in the mighty torrent\\nIs a year of tamer life\\nCity of glorious days,\\nOf hope, and labor, and mirth,\\nWith room, and to spare, on thy splendid bays\\nFor the ships of all the earth\\nA RHYME OF TYRINGHAM\\nDown in the meadow and up on the height\\nThe breezes are blowing the willows white.\\nIn the elms and maples the robins call,\\nAnd the great black crow sails over all\\nIn Tyringham, Tyringham Valley.\\nThe river winds through the trees and the brake\\nAnd the meadow-grass like a shining snake\\nAnd low in the summer and loud in the spring\\nThe rapids and reaches murmur and sing\\nIn Tyringham, Tyringham Valley.\\nIn the shadowy pools the trout are shy,\\nSo creep to the bank and cast the fly\\nWhat thrills and tremors the tense cords stir\\nWhen the trout it strikes with a tug and whir\\nIn Tyringham, Tyringham Valley", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "222 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nAt dark of the day the mist spreads white,\\nLike a magic lake in the glimmering light\\nOr the winds from the meadow the white mists blow,\\nAnd the fireflies glitter, a sky below,\\nIn Tyringham, Tyringham Valley.\\nAnd oh, in the windy days of the fall\\nThe maples and elms are scarlet all,\\nAnd the world that was green is gold and red,\\nAnd with huskings and cider they re late to bed\\nIn Tyringham, Tyringham Valley.\\nNow squirrel and partridge and hawk and hare\\nAnd wildcat and woodchuck and fox beware\\nThe three days hunt is waxing warm\\nFor the count up dinner at Riverside Farm\\nIn Tyringham, Tyringham Valley.\\nThe meadow-ice will be freezing soon,\\nAnd then for a skate by the light of the moon.\\nSo pile the wood on the hearth, my boy\\nWinter is coming I wish you joy\\nBy the light of the hearth and the moon, my boy,\\nIn Tyringham, Tyringham Valley.\\nELSIE\\nDo you love me Elsie asked,\\nAnd her rose-leaf dimples masked\\nNeath a pleading look, the while\\nOn her pouting lips a smile", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "ELSIE 223\\nHovered, yet was out of sight\\nLike a star that s hid at night\\nBy a filmy, flying cloud.\\nDo you love me scarce aloud\\nLovely Cousin Elsie said.\\nWhy no answer, Cousin Ed\\nDo you hate me then, or why\\nFrom Your Highness no reply\\nSo the chiding witch ran on\\nIn a moment I 11 be gone\\nThen too late, Sir No Gallant\\nQuick I 11 tell my precious aunt\\nThat you love me not, she cries,\\nThat you hate me and despise.\\nFlash the great, gray, long-lashed eyes 5\\nHalf in earnest now the girl\\nDown the pretty corners curl\\nOf the tiny mouth, and lo\\nFrom those eyes two tearlets flow\\nJust two kisses, and they go\\nLike a sunburst after showers,\\nLike white light upon the flowers,\\nNow again the dimples show.\\nBut she could not understand\\nWhy so long the answer waited\\nFor the loved and not the hated,\\nWhile he held that little hand,\\nAnd like a bird she sang and said,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nHalf in earnest, half in fun,\\nDo you love me, Solemn One\\nDo you love me, Cousin Ed\\nDo you love me, do you love me\\nLove me, love me, Cousin Ed", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "224 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nINDIRECTION\\nI saw not the leaf\\nBut its shadow trembling, trembling down.\\nI faced to northward, to my grief,\\nWhen from the southern sky a crimson meteor lit the\\nstar-dark town.\\nI saw not naked Love\\nLean from his porphyry throne above\\nAnd touch her heart to flame,\\nYet on her brow I saw the swift, sweet, virgin shame.\\nAH, BE NOT FALSE\\ni\\nAh, be not false, sweet Splendor\\nBe true, be good\\nBe wise as thou art tender;\\nBe all that Beauty should.\\nNot lightly be thy citadel subdued\\nNot ignobly, not untimely.\\nTake praise in solemn mood\\nTake love sublimely.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "HOW DEATH MAY MAKE A MAN 225\\nTHE ANSWER\\nThrough starry space two angels dreamed their flight,\\nMid worlds and thoughts of worlds, through day and\\nnight.\\nThen one spake forth whose voice was like the flower\\nThat blossoms in the fragrant midnight hour.\\nThis white-browed angel of the other asked\\nOf all the essences that ever basked\\nIn the eternal presence of all things,\\nAll thoughts, all joys, all dreads, all sorrowings\\nAmid the unimaginable vast,\\nBeing, or shall be, or forever past,\\nProfound with dark, or hid in endless light\\nWhich of all these most deep and infinite\\nThen did the elder speak, the while he turned\\nOn him who asked clear eyes that slowly burned\\nThe spirit through, like to a living coal\\nNo depth there is so deep as woman s soul.\\nHOW DEATH MAY MAKE A MAN\\n1\\nDeath is a sorry plight,\\nIt bringeth unto man\\nEnd of all delight.\\nYet many a woeful wight\\nOnly dying can\\nQuit him like a man.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "226 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nII\\nDawdling, drawling, silly,\\nMaundering, scarce a man,\\nDriven willy-nilly,\\nWhen he s dying will he\\nRun as once he ran,\\nOr quit him like a man\\nin\\nVile from out the wrack\\nCrawls he less than man\\nCowering in his track\\nBeaten, broken, black;\\nCurse him if you can\\nDeath may make him man.\\nIV\\nIn life the wretch did nought\\nWorthy of a man\\nNow by Death he s caught,\\nWhat a change is wrought\\nWhom the world did ban\\nQuits life like a man.\\nBraced stiff against the wall,\\nBehold, at last, a man.\\nLost life and honor, all\\nAt Death s quick touch and call\\nSee, the craven can\\nQuit him like a man.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "CAME TO A MASTER OF SONG 227\\nCAME TO A MASTER OF SONG\\nCame to a master of song\\nAnd the human heart\\nOne who had followed him long\\nAnd worshiped his art\\nOne whom the poet s singing\\nHad lured from death,\\nJoy to the crushed soul bringing\\nAnd heaven s breath\\n11\\nCame to him once in an hour\\nOf terror and stress,\\nAnd cried, Thou alone hast power\\nTo save me and bless\\nThou alone, pure heart and free,\\nCanst pluck from disaster,\\nIf to a wretch like me\\nThou wilt stoop, O master\\nin\\nAnswered the bard with shame,\\nAnd sorrow and trembling\\nWas I false, was my song to blame\\nWas my art dissembling?\\nI of all mortals the saddest,\\nThe quickest to fall,\\nAnd song of mine highest and gladdest\\nRepentance all", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "228 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nBARDS\\ni\\nSome from books resound their rhymes\\nSet them ringing with a faint,\\nSorrowful, and sweet, and quaint\\nMemory of the olden times,\\nLike the sound of evening chimes.\\nSome go wandering on their way\\nThrough the forest, past the herds,\\nLaughing maidens, singing birds;\\nOn their sylvan lutes they play\\nDanceth by the lyric Day\\nin\\nBards there be the deep sky under\\nWho in high, authentic verse\\nMysteries and moods rehearse\\nWith a voice like Sinai s thunder,\\nChanting to a world of wonder.\\nIV\\nAnd those have sung whose melody,\\nDrawn from out the living heart\\nWith a quick, unfaltering art,\\nHath power to make the listener cry\\nGod in heaven! It is I.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "MERIDIAN 229\\nMERIDIAN\\nHenceforth before these feet\\nSinks the downward way\\nA little while to greet\\nThe light and life of day,\\nThen night s slow fall\\nEnds all.\\nNow forward, heart elate,\\nThough steep the pathway slope.\\nTime yet for love and hate,\\nJoy, and joy s shadow, hope,\\nEre night s slow fall\\nEnds all.\\nin\\nStill the warm sky is blue,\\nNo fleck the sunlight mars\\nTwixt hills the sea gleams through\\nWith twilight come the stars\\nAnd night s slow fall\\nEnds all.\\nIV\\nIn the cool-breathing night\\nThe starry sky is deep.\\nStill on through glimmering light\\nTill we lie down to sleep\\nThen let night s fall\\nEnd all.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "230 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nEVENING IN TYRINGHAM VALLEY\\nWhat domes and pinnacles of mist and fire\\nAre builded in yon spacious realms of light\\nAll silently, as did the walls aspire\\nTempling the ark of God by day and night\\nNoiseless and swift, from darkening ridge to ridge,\\nThrough purple air that deepens down the day,\\nOver the valley springs a shadowy bridge.\\nThe evening star s keen, solitary ray\\nMakes more intense the silence, and the glad,\\nUnmelancholy, restful, twilight gloom\\nSo full of tenderness, that even the sad\\nRemembrances that haunt the soul take bloom\\nLike that on yonder mountain.\\nNow the bars\\nOf sunset all burn black the day doth fail,\\nAnd the skies whiten with the eternal stars.\\nOh, let thy spirit stay with me, sweet vale", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "PART III\\nA WEEK S CALENDAR\\nI\u00e2\u0080\u0094 NEW YEAR\\nEACH New Year is a leaf of our love s rose;\\nIt falls, but quick another rose-leaf grows.\\nSo is the flower from year to year the same,\\nBut richer, for the dead leaves feed its flame.\\nII\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A NEW SOUL\\nTo see the rose of morning slow unfold\\nEach wondrous petal to that heart of gold\\nTo see from out the dark, unknowing night\\nA new soul dawn with such undreamed-of light,\\nAnd slowly all its loveliness and splendor\\nPour forth as stately music pours, magnificently tender!\\nIll KEEP PURE THY SOUL\\nKeep pure thy soul\\nThen shalt thou take the whole\\nOf delight;\\nThen, without a pang,\\nThine shall be all of beauty whereof the poet sang\\nThe perfume, and the pageant, the melody, the mirth\\nOf the golden day, and the starry night\\nOf heaven, and of earth.\\nOh, keep pure thy soul\\n231", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "232 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nIV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THY MIND IS LIKE A CRYSTAL\\nBROOK\\nThy mind is like a crystal brook\\nWherein clean creatures live at ease,\\nIn sun-bright waves or shady nook.\\nBirds sing above it,\\nThe warm-breathed cattle love it,\\nIt doth sweet childhood please.\\nAccursed be he by whom it were undone,\\nOr thing or thought whose presence\\nThe birds and beasts would loathly shun,\\nWould make its crystal waters foully run,\\nAnd drive sweet childhood from its pleasance.\\nV\u00e2\u0080\u0094 ONE DEED MAY MAR A LIFE\\nOne deed may mar a life,\\nAnd one can make it\\nHold firm thy will for strife,\\nLest a quick blow break it\\nEven now from far on viewless wing\\nHither speeds the nameless thing\\nShall put thy spirit to the test.\\nHaply or e er yon sinking sun\\nShall drop behind the purple West\\nAll will be lost or won", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "IRREVOCABLE 233\\nVI THE UNKNOWN\\nHow strange to look upon the life beyond\\nOur human cognizance with so deep awe\\nAnd haunting dread a sense as of remorse,\\nA looking-for of judgment, a great weight\\nOf things unknown to happen We who live\\nBlindly from hour to hour in very midst\\nOf mysteries of shapeless, changing glooms\\nOf nameless terrors issues vast and black\\nOf airy whims, slight fantasies, and flights\\nThat lead to unimaginable woe\\nThe unweighed word cloying the life of love\\nOne clod of earth outblotting all the stars\\nSome secret, dark inheritance of will,\\nAnd the scared soul plunges to conscious doom\\nThou who hast wisdom, fear not Death, but Life\\nVII IRREVOCABLE\\nWould the gods might give\\nAnother field for human strife;\\nMan must live one life\\nEre he learns to live.\\nAh, friend, in thy deep grave,\\nWhat now can change, what now can save", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "PART IV\\nSONGS\\nBECAUSE THE ROSE MUST FADE\\ni\\nBECAUSE the rose must fade,\\nShall I not love the rose\\nBecause the summer shade\\nPasses when winter blows,\\nShall I not rest me there\\nIn the cool air\\nBecause the sunset sky\\nMakes music in my soul,\\nOnly to fail and die,\\nShall I not take the whole\\nOf beauty that it gives\\nWhile yet it lives\\nin\\nBecause the sweet of youth\\nDoth vanish all too soon,\\nShall I forget, forsooth,\\nTo learn its lingering tune\\nMy joy to memorize\\nIn those young eyes", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "FADES THE ROSE 235\\nIV\\nIf, like the summer flower\\nThat blooms, a fragrant death,\u00e2\u0080\u0094-\\nKeen music hath no power\\nTo live beyond its breath,\\nThen of this flood of song\\nLet me drink long\\nAh, yes, because the rose\\nDoth fade like sunset skies\\nBecause rude winter blows\\nAll bare, and music dies\\nTherefore, now is to me\\nEternity\\nFADES THE ROSE\\n1\\nFades the rose the year grows old\\nThe tale is told\\nYouth doth depart\\nOnly stays the heart.\\nAh, no if stays the heart,\\nYouth can ne er depart,\\nNor the sweet tale be told\\nNever the rose fade, nor the year grow old.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "236 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nTHE WINTRY HEART\\nOn the sad winter trees\\nThe dead, red leaves remain,\\nThough to and fro the bleak winds blow,\\nAnd falls the freezing rain.\\nSo to the wintry heart\\nClings color of the past,\\nWhile through dead leaves shudders and grieves\\nThe melancholy blast.\\nHAST THOU HEARD THE NIGHTINGALE\\nYes, I have heard the nightingale.\\nAs in dark woods I wandered,\\nAnd dreamed and pondered,\\nA voice passed by all fire\\nAnd passion and desire\\nI rather felt than heard\\nThe song of that lone bird\\nYes, I have heard the nightingale.\\nYes, I have heard the nightingale.\\nI heard it, and I followed\\nThe warm night swallowed", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "IN THAT DREAD, DREAMED-OF HOUR 237\\nThis soul and body of mine,\\nAs burning thirst takes wine,\\nWhile on and on I pressed\\nClose to that singing breast\\nYes, I have heard the nightingale.\\nin\\nYes, I have heard the nightingale.\\nWell doth each throbbing ember\\nThe flame remember;\\nAnd I, how quick that sound\\nTurned drops from a deep wound\\nHow this heart was the thorn\\nWhich pierced that breast forlorn\\nYes, I have heard the nightingale.\\nIN THAT DREAD, DREAMED-OF HOUR\\nIn that dread, dreamed-of hour\\nWhen in her heart love s rose flames into flower,\\nT is never, never yes,\\nBut no, no, no, whate er the startled eyes confess.\\n11\\nHer frail denial at last\\nSwept clean away like burnt leaves in the blast\\nNo longer no, no, no\\nBut yes, forever yes, while love s red rose doth blow.", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "238 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nROSE-DARK THE SOLEMN SUNSET\\nRose-dark the solemn sunset\\nThat holds my thought of thee\\nWith one star in the heavens\\nAnd one star in the sea.\\nOn high no lamp is lighted,\\nNor where the long waves flow,\\nSave the one star of evening\\nAnd the shadow star below.\\nin\\nLight of my Life, the darkness\\nComes with the twilight dream;\\nThou art the bright star shining,\\nI but the shadowy gleam.\\nWINDS TO THE SILENT MORN\\nWinds to the silent morn\\nWaves to the ocean\\nVoice to the song unsung\\nSong to emotion\\nLight to the golden flower;\\nBird to the tree;\\nLove to the heart of love,\\nAnd I to thee", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "THE UNRETURNING 239\\nII\\nDawn to the darkened world\\nHope to the morrow\\nMusic to passion and\\nWeeping to sorrow\\nLove to the heart that longs\\nMoon to the sea;\\nHeaven to the earthborn soul,\\nAnd thou to me.\\nTHE UNRETURNING\\nSilent, silent are the unreturning\\nWhat though word may reach to them, and yearning,\\nNever through the stillness of the night,\\nNever in the daytime or the dark\\nComes the long-lost voice, or smile of light\\nLifts no hand from sea or sunken bark.\\nSilent, silent are the unreturning\\nSilent, silent are the unreturning\\nSilent they? or are we undiscerning\\nChild, my child, is this thy answering voice\\nMurmuring far down the mountain lone\\nEvening s smile, that whispers Heart, rejoice\\nMother mine, is this thy very own\\nNay nay Silent are the unreturning\\nSilent, silent are the unreturning", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "240 FIVE BOOKS OF SONG\\nTWO YEARS\\nOh, that was the year the last of those before thee\\nAll my world till then but dark before the dawn.\\nIf then I had died, oh, never had I known thee,\\nNever had beheld thee I who won, who own thee\\nWho chose thee, who sing thee, crown thee, and adore\\nthee;\\nOh, death it were indeed to die before that dawn\\nii\\nThis was the year when first I did behold thee,\\nThou who on my darkness dawned with lyric light.\\nThis the golden hour when first thy lover found thee,\\nFollowed and beguiled thee, and with his singing bound\\nthee;\\nWhen all the world with music rang to drown thee and\\nenfold thee\\nThou who turned the darkness to song, and love, and\\nlight", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process.\\nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide\\nTreatment Date: Sept. 2009\\nPreservationTechnologies\\nA WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION\\n111 Thomson Park Drive\\nCranberry Township, PA 16066\\n(724)779-2111", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3291", "width": "1961", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS\\n012 073 882 3", "height": "3807", "width": "2523", "jp2-path": "fivebooksofson00gild_0264.jp2"}}