With footstep separate and slow
The father and the mother go,
Not now upon an urn they know
To mingle tears for comforting.
(Alas, alas,

The one inexorable thing!)

The world to me has nothing dear Beyond the namesake river here: O Simois is wild and clear!

And to his brink my heart I bring; (Alas, alas,

The one inexorable thing!)

My heart no more, if that might be,
Would stay his waters from the sea,
To cover Troy, to cover me,
To save us from the perishing.
(Alas, alas,

The one inexorable thing!)

Bliss Carman is a Canadian by birth, coming from New Brunswick. His forebears, being Loyalists, withdrew from Connecticut at the time of the American Revolution. He was educated at the University of New Brunswick, at Edinburgh, and at Harvard. After leaving Harvard he began to reside permanently in the United States.

This was in 1889, and in 1893 his first book of poems was published, Low Tide on Grand Pré. He was immediately recognized as an outstanding lyrist. He celebrated a pagan worship of nature with vivid and wistful feeling. He formed a strong friendship with the American poet, Richard Hovey, and together they collaborated on the series of Songs from Vagabondia, which began to appear in 1894.

In this series Carman did some of his most original and untrammeled work. He brought out his own Ballads of Lost Haven in 1897, and published a great many other volumes. He has also written volumes of essays.

He

Of late years Carman's poetry has become thinner and the glamour that surrounded his earlier work has faded away. has suffered from misfortune and ill health, though the many friends made by his comradely and lovable personality have rallied round him. In his earlier work we have some of the most refreshing and blithe lyricism, some of the gayest fantasy that has emerged from American poetry. No modern songs are better to read on the open road than those of Bliss Carman. Among his many lyrics and ballads many still retain their powerful natural beauty and odd fascination. And the work that he and Hovey did together will remain a delightful heritage to youth and its dreams.

DAISIES*

OVER the shoulders and slopes of the dune
I saw the white daisies go down to the sea,
A host in the sunshine, an army in June,
The people God sends us to set our hearts free.

The bobolinks rallied them up from the dell,
The orioles whistled them out of the wood;
And all of their singing was, "Earth, it is well!"
And all of their dancing was, "Life, thou art good!"

IN THE HOUSE OF IDIEDAILY*

OH, but life went gayly, gayly,
In the house of Idiedaily!

There were always throats to sing
Down the river-banks with spring,

When the stir of heart's desire
Set the sapling's heart on fire.

Bobolincolns in the meadows,
Leisure in the purple shadows,

Till the poppies without number

Bowed their heads in crimson slumber,

* From Songs of Vagabondia, New Holiday Edition in Three Volumes. Copyright, 1908, by Small, Maynard & Company, Inc. Reprinted by permission of the publishers, Small, Maynard & Company, Inc.

And the twilight came to cover
Every unreluctant lover.

Not a night but some brown maiden
Bettered all the dusk she strayed in,

While the roses in her hair
Bankrupted oblivion there.

Oh but life went gayly, gayly,
In the house of Idiedaily!

But this hostelry, The Barrow,
With its chambers, bare and narrow,

Mean, ill-windowed, damp, and wormy, Where the silence makes you squirmy,

And the guests are never seen to,
Is a vile place, a mere lean-to,

Not a traveller speaks well of,
Even worse than I heard tell of,

Mouldy, ramshackle and foul.
What a dwelling for a soul!

Oh, but life went gayly, gayly,

In the house of Idiedaily!

There the hearth was always warm,
From the slander of the storm.

There your comrade was your neighbor, Living on to-morrow's labor.

And the board was always steaming, Though Sir Ringlets might be dreaming.

Not a plate but scoffed at porridge,
Not a cup but floated borage.

There were always jugs of sherry
Waiting for the makers merry,

And the dark Burgundian wine
That would make a fool divine.

Oh, but life went gayly, gayly,
In the house of Idiedaily!