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A GARDEN OF REMEMBRANCE



By JAMES TERRY WHITE



Flowers from Arcadia

Captive Memories

For Lovers and Others

Character Lessons from American Biography

A Garden of Remembrance



A Garden of

Remembrance



By



JAMES TERRY WHITE



NEW YORK

JAMES T. WHITE & CO.

1918



ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Grateful acknowledgment is made to the respective
Publishers for permission to use the verses, which are
reprinted from The Century, Harper's Monthly, Mun-
sey's, Ainslee's, Independent, Smart Set, Christian
Register, New York Observer, Boston Transcript, New
York Sun, Springfield Republican, Pacific Unitarian,
Art World, and other periodicals.



Copyright 1917
By James T. White & Co.



APPRECIATION

"For one star differeth from another star in glory."
Not all writers of verse make the same appeal to the
same public. That which to some is strong meat, or
perhaps a savoury tidbit, is to others caviare. It
cannot be gainsaid that in these days there are many
carvers and polishers of cherrystones, but if the results
are good who shall proclaim the labor valueless? It is
never safe to prophesy that this or that writer will be
remembered and read in the far-reaching future. Her-
rick, whom our author resembles in his joy of life and
May-time spirit, has come safely down the stream of
time in a tiny shallop, while the producer of many
a ponderous epic has been engulfed beneath the tide.
That the poems contained in this little volume are not
great, in the sense that they are either epical or epochal,
no one will more readily concede than their unassum-
ing author; but that there are numerous sweet and
tender verses here, all of them informed with genuine
lyrical fire, few who read them will deny. In the house
of song there are many mansions — some for the "mighty
mouth'd inventors of harmonies," like the "organ-
voiced" Milton, and some for those who breathe their
delicate melodies through oaten straws. Not all of us
would wish to sit forever listening to the tremendous
music of the sea; now and then a weary spirit loves



J 1 O



to loiter by the brookside and hearken to the chiming
of its fairy bells. So this unpretentious book needs no
excuse for its being. It has the flavor of the day of
Suckling, or Sydney, and the singer plays upon the
chords of the heart with rare touch ; the delicacy of the
verse reminds one of the exquisite ivory of old
miniatures. Such lyrics as "Gentle Shepherdess of
Sheep," "The Thought of You," "Sympathy," and
"Elusive Happiness" will linger long in the memory.
If we mistake not, musical composers will find here a
veritable mine of suggestions — and indeed many of
these songs have already received a musical setting.
The attentive reader will easily recall such unforgettable
lines as —

"Like violets in an unexpected place."

"And why should life the future dread?
Love now hath immortality."

"A blessedness that far outweighs
The unforgotten pain,"

and there are many others equally quotable. The poems
of a religious cast are characterized by a gravity and
beauty of expression well befitting the solemn nature
of their theme. But enough. The door is open. Let
those who will, enter in.

James B. Kenyon.



CONTENTS.



APPRECIATION



A GARDEN OF REMEMBRANCE.

PROEM 13

THE THOUGHT OF YOU 15

A TRYST WITH SPRING 16

BETWEEN MY THOUGHT AND THEE 17

BETWEEN THESE LEAVES 18

WHEN LOVE AND I WENT MAYING 19

THE FIRST KISS 19

THE WHOLE OF LIFE 20

THE FULLNESS OF DAYS 20

DREAMS 21

remembrance 21

my first sweetheart 22

what's in a name 22

largesse 23

the wilderness were paradise enow 23

the song without words 24

from a rosebud 25

ASTRAY 26

A MEMORY OF ITALY 27

THE POET SINGS 28

REVISITED 29

THE FLOWERS OF JUNE 30

WHENCE IS THIS FRAGRANCE ? 30

ONLY AN IVY LEAF 31

CAN I FORGET ? 32

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER ^

THERE ISN'T ANY ONE TO PLAY WITH ANY MORE 35

ONLY A LITTLE WHILE 36

THREE ANGELS ^'

HOPE DEFERRED ^'

THE UNFORGOTTEN PAIN 3$

WITH LOVE FORGOT 38

MEMORIES OF CORTINA 39

THANKSGIVING



40



SYMPATHY 41

NOT FOR ONE ONLY 41

l'envoi 42

IN SA'DI'S ROSE GARDEN.

TO HOLD FAST MEMORY 44

IN SA'Dl's ROSE GARDEN 45

I. DOTH FRAGRANCE VANISH WITH THE ROSE? 45

II. A BREATH OF HEALING 46

III. EACH MORN A THOUSAND ROSES BRINGS 46

IV. A GARDEN WRAITH 47

V. UNFULFILLED DESIRE 48

VI. THY PERFUMED HEART 49

VII. SEND ME A ROSE 50

VIII. A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT 50

IX. NOT BY BREAD ALONE 51

X. COMPANIONSHIP 51

XI. THE WORTH OF A FRIEND 52

XII. A GIFT OF FLOWERS 52

ELUSIVE HAPPINESS 53

THE BIRTH OF AFFECTION 54

SHE GAVE ME A ROSE 55

PROPOSAL 56

SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT 56

A SUPPLIANT 57

IN SPRING'S DISGUISE 58

THE CLUE 58

MY FRIEND 59

CAMARADERIE 60

SONG 61

THE JOY OF LOVING 62

BEAUTY 63

YET SHE HEARS NOT 64

LOVE'S RECOMPENSE 65

l'envoi 66

IN ARCADY.

TO ARCADY HAST NEVER BEEN ? 68



POETRY 69

the transformation 70

somebody 70

the blue bird 71

the blue bird's return 72

thou shalt call and i will answer 73

complaint to spring 74

spring's return 75

admiration 76

when it is day 76

REFUSAL 77

THY FACE 77

EXILED FROM LOVE 78

ONLY THE SONG 78

WHEN LOVE IS DONE 79

AUF WIEDERSEHEN 79

"SEND FOR ME" 80

THE ECHO OF A SONG 81

THE SNOW IS IN MY HAIR 82

JUNE IN CORTINA 83

ABSENCE 84

THE UNATTAINED 84

TO KNOW LOVE CARETH STILL 85

LOVE'S SONG SINGS EVER 85

ENTREATY 86

MARRIAGE 87

EPITHALAMIUM 88

PATERNITY 89

BIRTHDAY 90

MORE TO BE DESIRED THAN GOLD 91

CHRISTMAS 92

TRUE PATRIOTISM 93

NEW YEAR 94

MUSIC IN THE AIR 95

l'envoi 96

AFTERGLOW.

THE SYMBOL 98



CONSIDER THE LILIES 99

WHAT THE CHILD-SOUL SAID TO THE MOTHER 100

WHY FEAR ? 101

EASTER 103

A WHISPER OF HEAVEN 104

THEN COMETH THE NIGHT 104

THE CALL OF THE SEA 105

SINGING HARP-STRINGS 106

A BRIDAL SONG 106

HEAVEN IS HERE 107

THE DIVINE SECRET 108

THE VISION FROM THE HEIGHTS 109

THE MOUNTAINS ARE HIS TEMPLE 110

THE NEW DAWN Ill

AN EASTER THOUGHT 112

HEAVEN ENFOLDS US ALL 112

IN HIS SERVICE 112

LOVE IS THE FULFILLING OF THE LAW 113

SUFFER THE CHILDREN 114

A GOLDEN WEDDING 115

THE MASTER SAITH 116

LOVE'S ETERNAL TROTH 117

EYE HATH NOT SEEN 118

BE YE COMFORTED 119

TRUST 120

PARTING 121

TRANSLATIONS 122

THE FEET OF CLAY 123

"AND KEEP THE DOOR AJAR" 123

BEYOND THE WALL 124

IF HEARTS ARE DUST 125

LIFE MAY HAVE NEED OF DEATH 126

HOPE 127

HOLD THOU MY HANDS 128

EVENTIDE 129

THE CALLING VOICES 130

SUNSET 131

l'envoi 132



A GARDEN OF REMEMBRANCE

"The heart is a garden; remembrance is its sweetest
flower."



PROEM

/t SINGER sitting in the sun
^c2 Found that the gift of love outweighs
All others when the day is done,
And is the only joy that stays.

Because his soul's affections stir,

To him the rose but typified
The charm and loveliness of her

Whose beauty blessed and satisfied.

He knew love's tender touch and "Hail,"
That turn earth's mournful sigh to smile;

He saw the vision of the Grail,
And so he sang of love, the while.

He felt that in the ordered round

Of Nature, life is incomplete,
If soul is by no Future crowned,

And so this hope his songs repeat.

He strove on chords of tenderness

To play, if haply he who hears
May find a quiet happiness

That banishes regret and tears.

Though in the structure of his lays

There be no minaret nor spire,
Within, the incense and the praise

May quicken all the soul's desire.



These songs keep whispering in my ear,

From every bird and rill and tree,
Of memories so sweet and dear,
I needs must strive, with smile and tear,
To tempt them to captivity.

Bound into verse, they are the fee

Most willingly my glad heart pays
Unto the boatman, Memory,
Who ferries me o'er time to thee,
The inspiration of my lays.



THE THOUGHT OF YOU

I THOUGHT of you ;
What wireless voices of the air
Insistent beat upon my ear,
Till, somehow, I am made aware
Of you, and know that you are near,
Because I thought of you.

I think of you;
And the sweet thought a fragrance lends

To every place where I may be ;
So sweet — I know that it portends
That you are thinking, too, of me,
The while I think of you.

I think of you;
And I forget life's sordid whirl,

The thwarted hope, the baffled aim,
In the enjoyment of that Pearl

Beyond the price of wealth and fame,
I have received from you.

The thought of you —
Fond memories and hopes it blends ;

From sore dejection keeps me free;
It for your absence makes amends
To know that you still think of me,
And wake my thought of you.



My thought of you —
Even love not more of joy reveals

Unto my heart; and is love aught
But what the heart perceives and feels,
And then makes captive to the thought —
As mine enfoldeth you?



A TRYST WITH SPRING

THERE is magic in the sunshine,
There's a spell in every breeze;
There's a call in leaf and blossom

For a tryst with flowers and trees,
And a witchery of fragrance

Breathes enchantment on the air.
Is the lure, the flowers and fragrance?
Or, the hope to find you there?



BETWEEN MY THOUGHT AND THEE

THE past hath boasted of its wonders seven;
The present hath its marvels yet more fair,
Of wireless bridges of the sentient air,
Of foaming torrents spanned and mountains riven ;

But I have reared a structure, rarer even,

That reaches to the skies— an ethereal stair,
Whose deep foundations rest upon my care —

The bridge between my thought and thee and Heaven.

Vain boast, that I this marvel have achieved;

Such graceful shafts of beauty I ne'er planned,
Such arches, with their golden pillars, sheaved

Of sunshine, and with loveliness o'er-spanned,
And towers of blessedness — I ne'er conceived;

Nay, nay I I builded not, it was thy hand.



BETWEEN THESE LEAVES

BETWEEN these leaves a fruitage grows,
Which in perpetual sunshine glows;
It cheers the heart, dries tear-filled eyes,
And with a breath of Paradise
Scents every breeze that through them blows.

Besides this harvest which bestows
On all refreshment and respose,
For you, another hidden lies
Between these leaves : —

Friendship, untouched by winter snows;
Ripened affection that outgrows

This earthly clime, and death defies;

And memories — these but comprise
A tithe of what my thoughts enclose
Between these leaves.



WHEN LOVE AND I WENT MAYING

WHEN Love and I went maying, all ablaze
With beauty were the woods, and blooming sprays
Dropped showers of petaled sweetness on the air.
I never knew the world could be so fair,
Or that the May could pipe such tuneful lays.

And heart and soul were lost in such a maze
Of happiness, that evening's purple haze
Stole down on that fair day, all unaware,
When Love and I went maying.

I said to Love, "Let lis not part; our ways
Are one." Love looked at me with wistful gaze,
And answered, "Where thou farest I will fare."
And Love has kept through life that promised care;
But memory treasures still those perfumed days,
When Love and I went maying.

THE FIRST KISS

IS touch of lips all of a kiss?
It is a touch of hearts, a thought
Of heaven, a golden woof of bliss

Into life's homely warp enwrought.
Thereafter, life is never quite the same;
That thread of gold embroiders it with flame.



THE WHOLE OF LIFE

TO some a little thing love seems;
To me it is the whole of life's pursuit,
The only inspiration of my lute;
Love opens vistas of delights,
Leads me to unimagined heights
Of happiness, and vouchsafes gleams
That lift my thoughts to lovelier dreams;
It brings new ravishment
From ever fresh displays of charm and grace,

Like the enticing scent
Of violets in an unexpected place.



THE FULLNESS OF DAYS

NO longer uneventful are my days;
So full are they of pageants of the past,
So crowded with sweet thoughts that tune my lays,
So redolent of a remembered rose
That blossomed in youth's garden — and still blows —
Each day seems more transcendent than the
last.



DREAMS

GENTLE shepherdess of dreams,
From the vales of singing streams,
From the mountains of delight,
Gather in my heart to-night
All the scattered flocks of bliss,
Folded in love's fostering kiss !
Pastured thus in memory,
Why should I seek Arcady?

Let me send, sweet friend, to you
Garlanded with violets blue,

These dear waifs — if haply they

In your memory may stay.
As they crowd about your feet,
Heed your footsteps, I entreat,

And step lightly, as beseems,

Lest you tread upon love's dreams.



REMEMBRANCE

IS there in your "heart's garden'
Remembrance of a rose
That still persists in blooming,
Despite of winter snows?



MY FIRST SWEETHEART

YEARS cannot dull the thoughts I hold
Of days when at her side was heaven;
But she was only twelve years old,
And I — I was not yet eleven.

Though sunset's sheen is in her hair,
The dew of morning yet remains ;

And still, of time all unaware,

Her heart the bloom of youth retains.

Her hands still keep their 'customed zeal —
Such kindly hands that never knew,

So stirred with their desire to heal,
That aught were easier to do.

Yet with the change, I only see

That little girl of long ago,
Feel her responsive lips — ah me!

Can age the bliss of youth outgrow !



WHAT'S IN A NAME?

ENTANGLED in these simple, singing chimes
Lingers a memory of olden times,
Lost for a while, but later found again;
Enshrined within my mind and heart, my pen
Needs but her name to beautify the rhymes.



LARGESSE

WHY is it thoughts of her take wing
In every place?
That in my heart the birds all sing?
That lovely objects ever bring

To me her face,
To which new charms and beauty cling
With added grace?

And when I seek love's blessedness

To realize,
'Tis not that I her heart possess,
It is in my own love's largesse

The great joy lies —
That I myself may love and bless,

And kiss her eyes.



THE WILDERNESS WERE PARADISE ENOW

THE nightingale all through the night
Responsive sings with silver throat,
But how can I sweet songs indite.
Without an answering note?

Sometimes I dream the bird has flown,
So deep and lone the silence reigns;
Yet, how can I e'er be alone,
When memory remains?

— Set to music by Liza Lehman.
23



THE SONG WITHOUT WORDS

LURED by conspiring skies and breeze,
We strolled beneath remembered trees,
To take our last farewell.
The witching stillness of the wood
Made even silence understood,
So much we dared not tell;

For now the time had come to part,
And that we both possessed a heart

Alas ! we had forgot.
We looked into each other's eyes,
And both saw there the Paradise

Forbidden to our lot.

Yet heart clasped heart and lip met lip,
In seal of soul's companionship,

Forgetting 'twas farewell.
Then coming from I know not where
A song filled all the summer air,

And bound me in its spell.

Was it a bird that sang that song,
Which in my memory has dwelt long,

And which still satisfies?
Was it a bird, or my own heart?
For now it seems no more a part

Of wood, or breeze, or skies.



24



Though years have sped, and fate ordains
We ne'er shall meet, that tryst remains

A fadeless immortelle;
And ever in my heart that song
Sings on, hope's promise to prolong,

Regardless of farewell.



FROM A ROSEBUD

WHO from a rosebud can bring forth a rose?
Yet cometh one with a song and a smile,
And in its bosom an ecstasy glows,
Thrilling its heart till its petals unclose,
And with its fragrance love-longings beguile.

Only a smile and a songl But wherein

Lies the great secret — the key to this power?

Deeper than life must its birth-throes begin;

Soul must meet soul where the nebulae spin ;
Hearts must be one, to engender love's flower.



A



ASTRAY

KISS is but a fleeting thing —
A singing bird upon the wing;
And yet, remembered through the years,
Remembered with both joy — and tears.



'Tis like the Alpine gentian flower;

Though seeming born but for an hour,
Its roots reach to the Tyrol's heart,
And take of its immortal part.

Affection loses half its bliss,
If not companioned with a kiss ;
And life is lonely, if bereft
Of the sweet guerdon love has left.

The kisses that keep flowers abloom

In life's deserted, empty room,

Too rarely to the heart come nigh
For one to lightly pass them by.

And in each heart there is a grave,
Where bended knees forever crave
Some alms of memory, to repay
For one lost kiss — that went astray.

But if it be one singing bird
Across the distance still is heard,

What wraith of hopelessness can rise
To cloud the path to Paradise?



So, though it be a fleeting thing—

A singing bird upon the wing,

Take heed it goeth not astray,

For you may need that kiss some day.



A MEMORY OF ITALY

IN the still depths of her clear eyes
I see Tyrolean lakes of blue,
And know not whether 'tis the hue,
Reflected from Italian skies.

Or from her heart's deep tenderness.
I see again cathedral heights
New tinted with a glowing sheen,
And know not whether 'tis a scene
Remembered, or the newer lights
Of a transfigured happiness.



THE POET SINGS

THE poet sings — perchance of woods and streams,
And the poor prisoner, bound in city walls,
Forgets the bondage of his lot, and dreams
He hears again the far-off forest-calls,
The lullaby of brooks and waterfalls,
And sees Heaven's stair in sunlight's slanting beams.

The poet sings — and quickened memory

Rewakes the harmonies of past delights : —

Affection's half-forgotten melody,

The wistful, wooing lay that love indites,
The singing silence in the star-lit nights —

More musical than any mistrelsy.

The poet sings — and even listless ears

Hear mingled melodies unheard till now : —

The harmony of the revolving spheres,

The onward rush of life's adventurous prow,
The benediction of the bending bough,

The growing bond which all mankind endears.



REVISITED

AS I retread the lane that stands
Between my youth and Arcady,
Even the grass waves welcome hands,
And all the wild flowers nod to me.

Again the birds tell where is hid
A little nest beneath the eaves,

And croon of nestlings, cradled mid
The woven softness of its leaves.

"The Pines" breathe low a boyhood air;

"The Mall" brings back a lover's tryst;
This gate recalls where golden hair,

Entangled in my heart, was kissed.

Each step with memories is rife,
As I retread youth's dear domain;

What more is there to ask of life,
When I go down this Lover's Lane?

The absent ones, they are not dead;

Unseen they come to welcome me;
And why should life the future dread?

Love now hath immortality.



THE FLOWERS OF JUNE

I

THESE flowers of June
The gates of memory unbar;
These flowers of June
Such old-time harmonies retune,
I fain would keep the gates ajar,
So full of sweet enchantment are
These flowers of June.

II
Was it the bloom of the laurel sprays,

That wakened remembrance of singing birds?

Or, was it the charm of remembered words,
That set my heart singing through somber days?

I longed for the summer-time, flower and tree:

And lo I the summer-time came with thee.
The bloom is no more, but the charm still stays.



WHENCE IS THIS FRAGRANCE?

WHENCE is this fragrance, my senses delighting?
Is it the roses, affection brings me —
Troth of the passionate Springtime replighting?
Nay; 'tis my Thought— from thinking of thee.



ONLY AN IVY LEAF!

ONLY an ivy leaf!
Remnant of dreams and of hope forward winging,
Blown from my youth, sweet memories bringing,

Keeping my heart from grief,
Keeping the rapture, when life was all singing,
Love but a kiss — and its fragrance still clinging,
All from an ivy leaf !

Only an ivy leaf?
Thousands of yesterdays hide in its keeping;
Years only add to the measure still heaping

Surety to heart's belief.
I have made truce with death: there'll be no weeping,
If at the end, love will bring to my reaping

Only this ivy leaf.

Only an ivy leaf
Out of the past. While its joy still confessing,
Out of the present comes new efflorescing,

Even though held in fief
Just for companionship. Ah! but the blessing,
If from your bounty my thought were caressing

Only an ivy leaf !



CAN I FORGET?

CAN I forget the fragrance,
That perfumed all my way—
That turned the gray-haired winter
Into perpetual May?

Can I forget the soothing
Of gentle, willing hands,

That bound the wounds of failure
With pity's healing bands?

Can I forget the hand-clasp,
When friendship was begun—

The smiles and tears of passion,
The kiss, that made us one?

There may be a forgetting
Of love and hope now fled,

Of bliss and parting anguish,
Dear heart — when I am dead.



THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER

OLOVE, teach me the prayer that Nature prays,
While lowly kneeling,
I seek celestial paths to truth and ways
Of heavenly healing I

Light Thou the lamp of love within my heart,

And keep it burning!
Not love of me, be made the greater part

Of love's returning,

But mine, that holdeth all humanity

In its enfolding;
That giveth all, in lavish charity,

And nought withholding.

The bees, the flowers, the grass touch heart and lip

In constant wooing,
And all earth's creatures seek companionship,

Life's end pursuing.

But these are loves— not Love; so great a thing

Is love eternal,
Thought may not reach with utmost stretch of wing

Its heights supernal;

The stars are but the dust beneath Love's feet,

Yet this immortal
Can be held close between two hearts that meet

Within life's portal,

33



And be enmeshed in the enfolding net

Of earth's existence;
Within the mother's arms its joy is set

With sweet persistence;

Friends clasp its hand, and wedded lives have part

In its caresses;
Great minds, deep natures and the pure in heart

Find its recesses.

The soul finds in this love a heavenly tie,

Ever believing
The intimations of the things that lie

Beyond perceiving—

Not seen, but known ; of things not held, but felt ;

Of things not measured
In certainty, but in rich promise dealt,

And in hope treasured.

Love breathes eternity, and the soul knows

By intuition,
Love immortality on life bestows

For its fruition.



To me there comes today assurance clear,

Without restriction,
That love finds its fruition even here —

And benediction;

34



How can I of Love's bounty be bereft,

Or lose its blessing,
When you a pearl of memory have left

For my possessing?

May love's clear flame be lighted in your heart

For life's sojourning 1
And would that I had some small grace and art

To keep it burning!



THERE ISN'T ANY ONE TO PLAY

WITH ANY MORE

(The Last Words of Mark Twain)

THE glow is fading from the western sky,
And one by one my comrades, as of yore,
Have given up their play, and said, good-bye;
There isn't any one to play with any morel

Don't cry, dear heart 1 for I am worn and old ;

No longer have I gifts within my store;
E'en love's best gifts to me, I could not hold;

There isn't any one to play with any morel

I miss the tender hand-clasp of old friends,
The kisses of the loved ones gone before;

'Tis lonely, when the heart first comprehends
There isn't any one to play with any more !
35



ONLY A LITTLE WHILE

ONLY a little while
May we together stay,
For onward both must fare
Upon the way.

Only a little while

Can we our cheer prolong —
Your tender, helpful touch,

My simple song!

And when the day is done,
And ashes quench the fire,

We each will say, farewell,
And slay desire.

We go our separate ways ;

But how can we forget,
As the slow years go by,

That we have met!

For one, 'twill ever be

A golden episode —
An oasis of rest,

Upon the road.

And you? — how will it be
With you? Can you forget?

Will it, too, be a loss
And a regret?

36



THREE ANGELS

WHEN all the world was fair and life was new,
Three angels came to me, who brought the clue
To heaven. One was love— by birth, divine;
One, hope— light of the way, and one was— you.

Love brought to earth the music of the spheres ;
Hope bade the heart to listen through its tears ;

And you — you were the sweet interpreter
Of Heaven's strains to earth's untutored ears.

First you took flight. Earth had no witchery
To tempt delight, or win affection's plea;

Then hope lost heart, and with despairing tears
Departed, leaving only — love and me.

But love has stayed with me the long way through ;
And, disappointment's burden to undo,

Has brought me new and not less dear delights—
The deathless memories of hope — and you.



HOPE DEFERRED


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