CELIA THAXTER.

[Born at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, 29th June 1836.

Author of Among the Isles of Shoals (Boston, 1873); Poems (1871); Drift Weed (1878); Poems for Children (1884); The Cruise of the Mystery, and other Poems (1886), etc. The poems given are quoted by kind permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co.]

THE ONLY FOE.

WILD, threatening sky, white, raging sea,
Fierce wind that rends the rifted cloud,
Sets the new moon's sharp glitter free,
And thunders eastward, roaring loud!
A fury rides the autumn blast,

The hoary brine is torn and tossed;
Great Nature through her spaces vast
Casts her keen javelins of the frost.
Her hand that in the summer days
Soothed us with tender touch of joy,
Deals death upon her wintry ways;

Whom she caressed she would destroy.
Life shrinks and hides; all creatures cower
While her tremendous bolts are hurled,
That strike with blind, insensate power
The mighty shoulder of the world.

Be still, my soul, thou hast no part

In her black moods of hate and fear;
Lifted above her wrath thou art,

On thy still heights, serene and clear.

Remember this,-not all the wild,

Huge, untamed elements have force
To reach thee, though the seas were piled
In weltering mountains on thy course.
Only thyself thyself can harm.

Forget it not!

And full of peace,

As if the south wind whispered warm,
Wait thou till storm and tumult cease.

SONG.

WE sail toward evening's lonely star
That trembles in the tender blue;
One single cloud, a dusky bar,

Burnt with dull carmine through and through, Slow smouldering in the summer sky,

Lies low along the fading west.

How sweet to watch its splendours die,
Wave-cradled thus and wind-caressed!
The soft breeze freshens, leaps the spray
To kiss our cheeks with sudden cheer;
Upon the dark edge of the bay

Lighthouses kindle, far and near,
And through the warm deeps of the sky
Steal faint star-clusters, while we rest
In deep refreshment, thou and I,

Wave-cradled thus and wind-caressed.

How like a dream are earth and heaven,
Starbeam and darkness, sky and sea;
Thy face, pale in the shadowy even,
Thy quiet eyes that gaze on me!
O realise the moment's charm,

Thou dearest! we are at life's best,

Folded in God's encircling arm,

Wave-cradled thus and wind-caressed.

A TRYST.

FROM out the desolation of the North

An iceberg took its way,

From its detaining comrades breaking forth,
And travelling night and day.

At whose command? Who bade it sail the deep
With that resistless force?

Who made the dread appointment it must keep? Who traced its awful course?

To the warm airs that stir in the sweet South
A good ship spreads her sails;

Stately she passed beyond the harbour's mouth
Chased by the favouring gales;

And on her ample decks a happy crowd
Bade the fair land good-bye;

Clear shone the day, with not a single cloud
In all the peaceful sky.

Brave men, sweet women, little children bright,
For all these she made room,

And with her freight of beauty and delight
She went to meet her doom.

Storms buffeted the iceberg, spray was swept
Across its loftiest height;

Guided alike by storm and calm, it kept
Its fatal path aright.

Then warmer waves gnawed at its crumbling base
As if in piteous plea;

The ardent sun sent slow tears down its face,

Soft flowing to the sea.

Dawn kissed it with her tender rose tints, Eve
Bathed it in violet,

The wistful colour o'er it seemed to grieve
With a divine regret.

Whether Day clad its clefts in rainbows dim
And shadowy as a dream,

Or Night through lonely spaces saw it swim
White in the moonlight's gleam,

Ever Death rode upon its solemn heights,

Ever his watch he kept;

Cold at its heart through changing days and nights Its changeless purpose slept.

And where afar a smiling coast it passed,
Straightway the air grew chill;
Dwellers thereon perceived a bitter blast,
A vague report of ill.

Like some imperial creature moving slow,
Meanwhile, with matchless grace,
The stately ship unconscious of her foe,
Drew near the trysting place.

For still the prosperous breezes followed her,
And half the voyage was o'er,

In many a breast glad thoughts began to stir
Of lands that lay before.

And human hearts with longing love were dumb, That soon should cease to beat,

Thrilled with the hope of meetings soon to come, And lost in memories sweet.

Was not the weltering waste of water wide
Enough for both to sail?

What drew the two together o'er the tide,
Fair ship and iceberg pale?

There came a night with neither moon nor star,
Clouds draped the sky in black;

With fluttering canvas reefed at every spar,
And weird fire in her track,

The ship swept on; a wild wind gathering fast

Drove her at utmost speed.

Bravely she bent before the fitful blast
That shook her like a reed.

O helmsman, turn thy wheel. Will no surmise Cleave through the midnight drear,

No warning of the horrible surprise

Reach thine unconscious ear?

She rushed upon her ruin.

Not a flash

Broke up the waiting dark;

Dully through wind and sea one awful crash
Sounded, with none to mark.

Scarcely her crew had time to clutch despair,
So swift the work was done;

Ere their pale lips could frame a speechless prayer,
They perished, every one!

SLUMBER SONG.

THOU little child, with tender, clinging arms,
Drop thy sweet head, my darling, down and rest
Upon my shoulder, rest with all thy charms;
Be soothed and comforted, be loved and blessed.
Against thy silken, honey-coloured hair
I lean a loving cheek, a mute caress;
Close, close I gather thee and kiss thy fair
White eyelids, sleep so softly doth oppress.
Dear little face that lies in calm content

Within the gracious hollow that God made
In every human shoulder, where He meant
Some tired head for comfort should be laid!
Most like a heavy-folded rose thou art,

In summer air reposing, warm and still. Dream thy sweet dreams upon my quiet heart; I watch thy slumber; naught shall do thee ill.

SCHUMANN'S SONATA IN A MINOR.
THE quiet room, the flowers, the perfumed calm,
The slender crystal vase, where all aflame;
The scarlet poppies stand erect and tall,

Colour that burns as if no frost could tame,

The shaded lamplight glowing over all,

The summer night a dream of warmth and balm.