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                             POEMS OF LIFE




                                 POEMS
                                OF LIFE

                                  By
                       KATHARINE FORREST HAMILL

                             PHILADELPHIA
                        PETER REILLY, PUBLISHER
                       133 N. THIRTEENTH STREET
                                 1915

                    COPYRIGHT 1915, BY PETER REILLY
                         PUBLISHED JULY, 1915

                           FIRST IMPRESSION




                                  TO

                        GRACE BARTLETT STRYKER


    Words fail me when I strive to say
    What you’ve meant to me--for so long a day
    Hope--Inspiration--Sympathy.
    Steadfast and true, whate’er might be.
    O priv’lege rarest to the end
    As in the past, to call you--_friend_.


          AUTHOR’S NOTE


The poems contained within the following pages are _children of the
brain_ which at intervals obtruded their company, and which, such as
they are, at the solicitation of my friends, I have ventured to set
down.

K. F. H.




          CONTENTS


Dedication                             IX

Author’s Note                          XI


POEMS OF LIFE.
                                     Page

Today                                   5

Jewels                                  6

Something Gone                          7

A-Maying                                8

Tribute                                 9

Good-Bye                               10

The Wondrous Song                      14

Miladi                                 17

The Something-my-life-has-missed       18

Contentment                            20

Gone                                   21

To My Muse                             22

Conception                             24

Awakening                              25

The House Built on Sands               26

To a Butterfly                         28

A Fragment                             29

Query                                  30

I Close Mine Eyes                      32

Understanding                          33

We Met in May                          34

I Turn Me Down a Lighted Way           36

Counsel                                37

Decision                               39

You Never Guessed the Secret           40

The Light                              42

Education                              43

Re-Adjustment                          44


FROM “RHYMES FOR WEE SWEETHEARTS”

When Grandmama Was Little              53

Harold’s Lament                        55

Mrs. Spider                            57

The Naughty Little Girl                58

On the Stair                           60

The Land O’Dreams                      61

The Middle of the Night                63

When Our Fathers Were Little Boys      65

Slumber Land                           67

The New Brother                        68




          POEMS OF LIFE




          TO-DAY


    The Yesterdays we might have called our own
      But which, in our blindness, we let slip by,
    Alas! they know not to return again,
      Deep-buried doth each, within its grave, lie.

    But O belov’ed, now that we have made
      The golden secret ours--to hold alway
    We will not sorrow o’er departed hours--
      Just live in God’s great glorious--To-day!




          JEWELS


    Oh, not the gracious deeds your kindness knew, dear,
      When shone my sun and skies were ever fair;
    But the more precious sympathies you tendered
      In sorrow’s hour. _Those_ my jewels rare
    Which dearer, than off’ring wealth knows to proffer,
      I’ll keep beside me whate’er may attend,
    Nor render up so long as Life’s day lasteth,--
      Aye, and take with me, when shall plead its end.




          SOMETHING GONE


    You come to me--you take my hand,
      You try to make me see
    Things should become as they once were,
      ’Twixt you and me.

    I listen to each word, you say,
      I mark well ev’ry tone,
    Only to find--you plead in vain,--
      There’s something gone.

    Something gone--that cannot come back again,
      Tho’ most entreatingly you pray.
    Yet, not mine the fault,--but yours alone,
      It went away.




          A-MAYING


    We will go a-Maying dear,
      Just you and I together,
    Oh, the glory of God’s blossoming
      Sunshiny weather!
    Ev’ry ill we will forget,
      Nor remember a regret,
    For ’twill never do to fret
      Whilst we are a-straying.
    Only laughter ringing clear,
      Waking echo far and near;
    You and I so happy dear;
      A-Maying! A-Maying!




          TRIBUTE


    To prove myself--aye, that’s my aim,
      To prove myself for those
    Who took me by the hand and held,
      Nor cared if others chose
    To notice or pass coldly by.
      Thro’ stormiest of weather
    Stood ever at my side, and said
      We’ll face the world together!




          GOOD-BYE


          _She_

    Good-bye, yes, I’ve decided
      It’s best--it should not go _on_,
    The quite delightful companionship
      You and I, for some time, have known.

    No, do not try to dissuade me,
      I’ve thought it most carefully o’er,
    To arrive at but one conviction--
      We must see each other no more.


          _He_

    And you think to sever our friendship
      By a mere putting away,
    Letting the same, as it were, slip from us
      Nor permitting me to say,

    A word in defence of its going
      As if I’d no _right_ to share
    In the matter of decision
      I ask you,--Is it fair?




          _She_

    Man-like you refuse to _reason_
      To see it’s the only way,
    That the step really should have been taken
      Even _before_ to-day.

    With you ’tis quite diff’rent,--the matter,--
      You’ve priv’lege entire of your life;
    But my freedom bows to restriction,--
      I am another man’s wife.


          _He_

    Yes, another man’s wife, but the honor
      The Fates have conferred, it would seem
    He doesn’t the quite appreciate,--
      At least, ’tis the knowledge I gleam.

    From observing his attitude towards you,
      Which I’m sure,--and you can but agree,
    Is not in the least in keeping with what
      A husband’s towards a wife _should_ be.




          _She_

    And his failing you think permits me
      Favor to accept at _your_ hands,
    That the vow I took at the altar
      Ceases to impose its demands.

    In sickness or health I promised,
      “For better or worse”,--till the day,
    He who gave should in his judgment
      See fit to take away.


          _He_

    And you’ll let it bind you, that promise,
      To a man who does not care;
    Whose int’rest is the thoroughly selfish,
      In whose secrets--you do not share,

    Listen, dear, the priv’lege of Mortals,--
      To get what we can out of life.
    Free yourself from the bond that is irksome
      And find happiness, as my wife.




          _She_

    Nay, not so, the rule of living
      Holds faithful but to the one test;
    Nor counts it--another’s transgression,
      We must give of _ourselves_--our best.

    Of no use to appeal the exception,
      The truth remains fix’ed alway,
    So, good-bye, it _must_ be,--and, God bless you,--
      _There is nothing more to say_.




          THE WONDROUS SONG


    I longed to sing a wondrous song,
      So wondrous, ’twould compel
    The admiration unreserved
      Of one and all as well.

    My pen I took in hand and strove
      The magic words to write,
    Alas! I could not of my Muse
      Inspiration invite.

    She would not humor, tho’ I begged
      Persistently and long
    For the right metre--the right thought,
      To best set down my song.

    ’Twas stately phrase I coveted,
      The Laurel I would court--
    That of the world’s acknowledgment
      Of unsurpass´ed thought.

    At length disheartened, my appeal
      Knew, but to be denied,
    I rose and to the window moved,
      And marked the scene outside.

    All quiet stretched the land before,
      Enwrapt in the soft haze
    Which with such rare enchantment clothes
      Autumn’s initial days.

    Idly my glance the expanse swept
      Till it came to where lay
    Outside the gate, the winding road
      Leading to far-away.

    Then with the moment light was mine--
      Yet not complex its thought,
    The inspiration which appealed
      Was diff’rent, from that sought.

    The winding road--the simple theme--
      They who followed after--
    The toll it wrested of sad tears,
      For short dole of laughter.

    The tranquil ways bidden farewell,
      To seek of its unrest,
    The truth alas! too oft brought home,
      The paths forsook, were best.

    Could I but so compose a lay,
      That one who heard might pause,
    Nor continue to sacrifice
      In an unrighteous cause.

    And keep his soul tho’ it should be
      By cruelest conflict wrung,
    I need not further supplicate--
      My wondrous song were sung.




          MILADI


    Miladi is so wonderful in furbelows and laces;
    Miladi is so wonderful of such beguiling graces;
    My poor faint heart goes pit-a-pat when she her Slave addresses
    I wonder if how _much_ I love, Miladi guesses!

    Miladi is so wonderful, her dimples and her curls;
    Miladi is so wonderful, my mind bewildered whirls;
    Oh would some pow’r benign might make it plain for me to see
    How much it is, in very truth, Miladi thinks of _me_.




          THE SOMETHING MY LIFE HAS MISSED


    It whispers in the murmur
      Of the breezes passing by,
    Pulsates in the azure
      Of ev’ry flawless sky.
    And oh! when twilight gathers
      And its curtain gently falls,
    The-something-my-life-has-missed
      Calls and calls.

    Part of the Throng have found it,
      The light within their eyes
    Pleads of too great a radiance
      The truth to disguise.
    Their world is all they wish for,
      Nor know they to implore
    From off Destiny’s altar
      Happiness more.

    It whispers in the murmur
      Of the breezes passing by,
    Pulsates in the azure
      Of ev’ry flawless sky.
    Some day I, too, shall know it
      In all its ecstacy,
    The-something-my-life-has-missed
      Will come to me.




          CONTENTMENT


    To have you with me day by day
      Watch you flitting to and fro,
    In and out this room and that,
      Up and down the stairs and lo!
    With each turn mark you at
      Some task benign--love bids you know.

    To have you with me day by day,
      A tender, trusting, gracious self
    Let the world treasure as it may,
      To me, far dearer than its wealth
    Your comradeship. Nor pleads the hour
      In all God’s calendar so true,
    With blessing richer for its dow’r
      Than the rare one which gave me,--_you_.




          GONE


    I turn to find you