



Produced by Al Haines










CHALLENGE


By LOUIS UNTERMEYER




NEW YORK

THE CENTURY CO.

1914




Copyright, 1914, by

THE CENTURY CO.


Published, April, 1914




CONTENTS


I. SUMMONS

  SUMMONS
  PRAYER
  TO ARMS
  ON THE BIRTH OF A CHILD
  HOW MUCH OF GODHOOD
  THE GREAT CAROUSAL
  THANKS
  GOD'S YOUTH
  IN THE BERKSHIRE HILLS
  VOICES
  REVELATION
  AFFIRMATION
  DOWNHILL ON A BICYCLE
  MIDNIGHT--BY THE OPEN WINDOW
  THE WINE OF NIGHT


II. INTERLUDES

  INVOCATION
  "FEUERZAUBER"
  SUNDAY NIGHT
  AT KENNEBUNKPORT
  IN A STRANGE CITY
  FOLK-SONG
  IN THE STREETS
  ENVY
  A BIRTHDAY
  LEAVING THE HARBOR
  THE SHELL TO THE PEARL
  THE YOUNG MYSTIC
  HEALED
  THE STIRRUP-CUP
  SPRING ON BROADWAY
  IN A CAB
  SUMMER NIGHT--BROADWAY
  HAUNTED
  ISADORA DUNCAN DANCING
  SONGS AND THE POET
  THE HERETIC
      I. BLASPHEMY
     II. IRONY
    III. MOCKERY
     IV. HUMILITY
  FIFTH AVENUE--SPRING  AFTERNOON
  TRIBUTE


III. SONGS OF PROTEST

  CHALLENGE
  CALIBAN IN THE COAL-MINES
  ANY CITY
  LANDSCAPES
  TWO FUNERALS
  SUNDAY
  STRIKERS
  IN THE SUBWAY
  BATTLE-CRIES
  A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS
  SOLDIERS
  PEACE
  THE DYING DECADENT
  FUNERAL HYMN
  PROTESTS



For the privilege of reprinting many of the poems included in this
volume, the author thanks the editors of _The Century, Harper's, The
Forum, The Masses, The Smart Set, The Independent, The American, The
Delineator, The New Age, The Poetry Journal_ and other magazines.




  SUMMONS

  _To Walter Lippmann_




  SUMMONS

  The eager night and the impetuous winds,
  The hints and whispers of a thousand lures,
  And all the swift persuasion of the Spring
  Surged from the stars and stones, and swept me on...
  The smell of honeysuckles, keen and clear,
  Startled and shook me, with the sudden thrill
  Of some well-known but half-forgotten voice.
  A slender stream became a naked sprite,
  Flashed around curious bends, and winked at me
  Beyond the turns, alert and mischievous.
  A saffron moon, dangling among the trees,
  Seemed like a toy balloon caught in the boughs,
  Flung there in sport by some too-mirthful breeze...
  And as it hung there, vivid and unreal,
  The whole world's lethargy was brushed away;
  The night kept tugging at my torpid mood
  And tore it into shreds.  A warm air blew
  My wintry slothfulness beyond the stars;
  And over all indifference there streamed
  A myriad urges in one rushing wave...
  Touched with the lavish miracles of earth,
  I felt the brave persistence of the grass;
  The far desire of rivulets; the keen,
  Unconquerable fervor of the thrush;
  The endless labors of the patient worm;
  The lichen's strength; the prowess of the ant;
  The constancy of flowers; the blind belief
  Of ivy climbing slowly toward the sun;
  The eternal struggles and eternal deaths--
  And yet the groping faith of every root!
  Out of old graves arose the cry of life;
  Out of the dying came the deathless call.
  And, thrilling with a new sweet restlessness,
  The thing that was my boyhood woke in me--
  Dear, foolish fragments made me strong again;
  Valiant adventures, dreams of those to come,
  And all the vague, heroic hopes of youth,
  With fresh abandon, like a fearless laugh,
  Leaped up to face the heaven's unconcern...

  And then--veil upon veil was torn aside--
  Stars, like a host of merry girls and boys,
  Danced gaily 'round me, plucking at my hand;
  The night, scorning its ancient mystery,
  Leaned down and pressed new courage in my heart;
  The hermit thrush, throbbing with more than Song,
  Sang with a happy challenge to the skies;
  Love, and the faces of a world of children,
  Swept like a conquering army through my blood--
  And Beauty, rising out of all its forms,
  Beauty, the passion of the universe,
  Flamed with its joy, a thing too great for tears.
  And, like a wine, poured itself out for me
  To drink of, to be warmed with, and to go
  Refreshed and strengthened to the ceaseless fight;
  To meet with confidence the cynic years;
  Battling in wars that never can be won,
  Seeking the lost cause and the brave defeat!




  PRAYER

  God, though this life is but a wraith,
    Although we know not what we use,
  Although we grope with little faith,
    Give me the heart to fight--and lose.

  Ever insurgent let me be,
    Make me more daring than devout;
  From sleek contentment keep me free.
    And fill me with a buoyant doubt.

  Open my eyes to visions girt
    With beauty, and with wonder lit--
  But let me always see the dirt,
    And all that spawn and die in it.

  Open my ears to music; let
    Me thrill with Spring's first flutes and drums--
  But never let me dare forget
    The bitter ballads of the slums.

  From compromise and things half-done,
