IN VARIOUS MOODS

Poems And Verses

By Irving Bacheller

Harper & Brothers Publishers New York And London

MCMX


CONTENTS

[ IN VARIOUS MOODS ]

[ THE SOWERS ]

[ THE NEW WORLD ]

[ FAITH ]

[ BALLAD OF THE SABRE CROSS AND 7 ]

[ WHISPERIN' BILL ]

[ THE RED DEW ]

[ THE BABY CORPS ]

[ PICTURE, SOUND AND SONG ]

[ THE VEN'SON-TREE ]

[ HIM AN' ME ]

[ A VOICE OF THE FIELDS ]

[ THE WEAVER'S DYE ]

[ THE SLUMBER SHIP ]

[ OLD HOME, GOOD-BYE! ]

[ THE RUSTIC DANCE ]

[ TO A DEAD CLASSMATE ]


IN VARIOUS MOODS


THE SOWERS

Written for the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Founding of St. Lawrence University

I know the hills that lift the distant plain,

The college hall—the spirit of its throngs,

The meadows and the waving fields of grain,

Full well I know their colors and their songs.

I know the storied gates where love was told,

The grove where walked the muses and the seers,

The river, dark or touched with light of gold,

Or slow, or swift so like the flowing years.

I know not these who sadly sit them down

And while the night in half-forgotten days;

I know not these who wear the hoary crown

And find a pathos in the merry lays.

Here Memory, with old wisdom on her lips,

A finger points at each familiar name—

Some writ on water, stone or stranded ships,

Some in the music of the trump of fame.

Here oft, I think, beloved voices call

Behind a weathered door 'neath ancient trees.

I hear sad echoes in the empty hall,

The wide world's lyric in the harping breeze.

It sings of them I loved and left of old,

Of my fond hope to bring a worthy prize—

Some well-earned token, better far than gold,

And lay it humbly down before their eyes.

And tell them it were rightly theirs—not mine,

An harvest come of their own word and deed;

I strove with tares that threatened my design

To make the crop as noble as the seed.

So they might see it paid—that life they knew—

A toilsome web and knit of many a skein,

With love's sweet sacrifice all woven through,

And broken threads of hope and joy and pain.

On root-bound acres, pent with rocks and stones,

Their hope of wealth and leisure slowly died.

They gave their strength in toil that racked their

bones,

They gave their youth, their beauty, and their pride.

Ere Nature's last defence had been withdrawn

That those they loved might have what they could

not—

The power of learning wedded to their brawn

And to the simple virtue there begot.

My college! Once—it was a day of old—

I saw thy panes aglow with sunset fire

And heard the story of thy purpose told

And felt the tide of infinite desire.

In thee I saw the gates of mystery

That led to dream-lit, vast, inviting lands—

Far backward to the bourne of history

And forward to the House not made with hands.

You gave the husbandman a richer yield

Than any that his granary may hold;

You called his children from the shop and field,

Taught them to sow and reap an undredfold.

To sow the seed of truth and hope and peace,

And take the root of error from the sod;

To be of those who make the sure increase,

Forever growing, in the lands of God.


THE NEW WORLD

Read before the Lambda Chapter of Phi Beta Kappa, June 24, 1902

Idle gods of Old Olympus—Zeus and his immortal

clan,

Grown in stature, grace and wisdom, meekly serve

the will of man.

Every elemental giant has been trained to seek and

raise

Gates of the "impossible" that lead to undiscovered

ways.

Man hath come to stranger things than ever bard

or prophet saw.

Lo, he sits in judgment on the gods and doth amend

their law.

Now reality with wonder-deed of ancient fable teems—

Fact is wrought of golden fancy from the old

Homeric dreams.

Zeus, with thought to load the fulmen gathered for

his mighty sling,

Hurls across the ocean desert as 'twere ut a pebble-fling;

Titans move the gathered harvests, push the loaded

ship and train,

Rushing swiftly 'twixt horizons, shoulder to the

hurricane.

Hermes, of the winged sandal, strides from midday

into night.

Pallas, with a nobler passion, turns the hero from

his fight.

Vulcan melts the sundered mountain into girder,

beam and frieze.

Where the mighty wheel is turning hear the groan

of Hercules.

Eyes of man, forever reaching where immensity

envails,

View the ships of God in full career with light upon

their sails.

Read the tonnage, log, and compass—measure each

magnetic chain

Fastened to the fiery engine towing in the upper

main.

Man hath searched the small infernos, narrow as a

needle's eye,

Rent the veil of littleness 'neath which unnumbered

dragons lie.

Conquered pain with halted feeling, baned the

falling House of Life,

As with breeding rats infested, ravening in bloody

strife.

Change hath shorn the distances from little unto

mighty things—

Aye, from man to God, from poor to rich, from

peasants unto kings.

Justice, keen-eyed, Saxon-hearted, scans the records

of the world,

Makes the heartless tyrant tremble when her stem

rebuke is hurled.

Thought-ways, reaching under oceans or above the

mountain height,

Drain to distant, darkened realms the ceaseless

overflow of light.

In the shortened ways of travel Charity shall seek

her goal,

Find the love her burden merits in the commerce

of the soul.

Right must rule in earth and heaven, though its

coming here be slow;

Gods must grow in grace and wisdom as the mind

of man doth grow;

Law and Prophet be forgotten, deities uprise and

fall

Till one God, one hope, one rule of life be great

enough for all.


FAITH

Being some words of counsel from an old Yankee to his son Bill when the latter is about to enter college.

Faith, Bill? You remember how ye used to wake

an' cry,

An' when I lit a candle how the bugaboos 'u'd fly?

Well, faith is like a father in the dark of every

night—

It tells ye not t' be afraid, an' mebbe strikes a

light.

Now, don't expect too much o' God, it wouldn't

be quite fair

If fer anything ye wanted ye could only swap a

prayer;

I'd pray fer yours, an' you fer mine, an' Deacon

Henry Hospur,

He wouldn't hev a thing t' do but lay abed an'

prosper.

If all things come so easy, Bill, they'd hev but little

worth,

An' some one with a gift o' prayer 'u'd mebbe own

the earth.

It's the toil ye give t' git a thing—the sweat an'

blood an' care—

That makes the kind o' argument that ought to

back yer prayer.

Fer the record o' yer doin'—I believe the soul is

planned

With some self-workin' register t' tell jest how ye

stand.

An' it won't take any cipherin' t' show, that

fearful day,

If ye've multiplied yer talents well, er thrown 'em

all away.

When yer feet are on the summit, an' the wide

horizon clears,

An' ye look back on yer pathway windin' thro' the

vale o' tears;

When ye see how much ye've trespassed, an' how

fur ye've gone astray,

Ye'll know the way o' Providence ain't apt t' be

your way.

God knows as much as can be known, but I don't

think it's true.

He knows of all the dangers in the path o' me an'

you.

If I shet my eyes an' hurl a stun that kills—the

King o' Siam,

The chances are that God 'll be as much surprised

as I am.

If ye pray with faith believin', why, ye'll certainly

receive,

But that God 'll break His own good law is more 'n

I'll believe.

If it grieves Him when a sparrow falls, it's sure as

anything,

He'd hev turned the arrow, if He could, that broke

the sparrow's wing.

Ye can read old Nature's history that's writ in rocks

an' stones,

Ye can see her throbbin' vitals an' her mighty rack

o' bones,

But the soul o' her—the livin' God, a little child

may know

No lens er rule o' cipherin' can ever hope t' show.

There's a part o' God's creation very handy t' yer

view,

All the truth o' life is in it an' remember, Bill, it's

you.

An' after all yer science ye must look up in yer

mind

An' learn its own astronomy the star o' peace t' find.

There's good old Aunt Samanthy Jane that all her

journey long

Has led her heart to labor with a reveille of song.

Her folks hev robbed an' left her, but her faith in

goodness grows;

She hasn't any larnin', but I tell ye, Bill, she knows!

She's hed her share o' troubles; I remember well

the day

We took her t' the poor-house—she was singin' all

the way.

Ye needn't be afraid t' come where stormy Jordan

flows,

If all the l'arnin' ye can git has taught ye half she

knows.

There's a many big departments in this ancient

school o' God,

An' ye keep right on a l'arnin' till ye lay beneath

the sod,

All the books an' apperaytus, all the wisdom o'

the seers

Will be jest a preparation fer the study o' the years.


BALLAD OF THE SABRE CROSS AND 7

A troop of sorrels led by Vic and then a troop of

bays,

In the backward ranks of the foaming flanks a

double troop of grays;

The horses are galloping muzzle to tail, and back

of the waving manes

The troopers sit, their brows all knit, a left hand

on the reins.

Their hats are gray, and their shirts of blue have

a sabre cross and 7,

And little they know, when the trumpeters blow,

they'll halt at the gates of heaven.

Their colors have dipped at the top of a ridge—

how the long line of cavalry waves!—

And over the hills, at a gallop that kills, they are

riding to get to their graves.

"I heard the scouts jabber all night," said one;

"they peppered my dreams with alarm.

"That old Ree scout had his medicine out an'

was tryin' to fix up a charm."

There are miles of tepees just ahead, and the

warriors in hollow and vale

Lie low in the grass till the troopers pass and then

they creep over the trail.

The trumpets have sounded—the General shouts!

He pulls up and turns to the rear;

"We can't go back—they've covered our track—

we've got t' fight 'em here."

He rushes a troop to the point of the ridge, where

the valley opens wide,

And Smith deploys a line of the boys to stop the