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The Weed's Philosophy

and Other Poems

By

MARTHA MARTIN

"And what is writ is writ — Would it were worthier."

— Byron.

MONTREAL 1913

Copyright, 1913, by Martha Martin

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CONTENTS

The Weed's Philosophy, ...... 5

On— 7

The Triumph of Night, 8

The Frozen Sentinel, 9

At Parting, 12

A Broken Wing, 13

Beethoven, . 15

Slumber Song, 16

A Spring Idyl, 17

On— 19

The Water Lily, 20

"When the Rose's Bloom is Gone," .... 22

Autumn at Lake Joseph, 23

On Her Seventieth Birthday, 25

" Wiederfinden," 27

The Spangled Trees, 28

Little Metis, . 30

Elegy, 32

Evening Song 33

Mount Shasta, 34

Sunset at Ogunquit, 35

A Summer Idyl, ...*.. . . 36

"Long Since and Now," 38

A May Morning, 39

In "Solitude," 41

"I Wept while I was Dreaming," .... 43

THE WEED'S PHILOSOPHY

Nay, but tell me, am I not unlucky indeed, To arise from the earth and be only a weed ?

II

Ever since I came out of my dark little seed, I have tried to live rightly, but still am a weed.

in

To be torn by the roots and destroyed — this my meed. And despised by the gardener for being a weed.

IV

Ah ! but why was I born when man longs to be freed Of a thing so obnoxious and bad as a weed ?

Now the cause of myself and my brothers I plead, Say — can any good come of my being a weed ?

VI

If a purpose divine is in all things decreed,

Then there must be some benefit from me — a weed.

VII

If of evil and suffering the world still has need In its path of development, then I a weed

VIII

Must form part of that plan which in Nature I read, Though I live but to die just for being — a weed.

ON

M y soul is quickened as I gaze on thee,

O h ! thou of whom it may in truth be said

T hat man was after God's own image made.

H ow full of love and sweet benignity

E ach act, and word, and glance of thine so true,

R eflecting all the grace of Heaven through.

THE TRIUMPH OF NIGHT

The chase is o'er, Night's victory won,

Her silver bow I see Suspended 'gainst the sky's dark wall.

Now Day, her enemy, Has been by countless arrows slain

And forced at length to flee.

ii

Or is yon shining crescent hung Across Heaven's cloudy bar,

Perhaps Diana's silver horn

With which she calls each star

To wake — and keep close sentinel From distant heights afar ?

in

Night reigns supreme, the Earth is dipped

In cool and fragrant dews, A breathless stillness undisturbed

Doth Nature's world suffuse, And all about invites — invokes

The presence of the Muse.

THE FROZEN SENTINEL

(FROM THE GERMAN)

Once on a Christmas Eve when there occurred a heavy- frost, A sentinel was stationed at the powder-tower post.

ii

He paces up and down with shouldered arms thro'

snow and sleet, 14 In six weeks' time, beloved one, we two again shall

meet.

in

44 When six weeks pass away, sweetheart, when six

weeks pass away, I'll swing you in the dance, sweetheart, and marry

you in May.

IV

44 There's feasting and rejoicing in my father's house

to-night, — How bitter cold it is, and my moustache is frozen

quite."

He leans against the sentry-box, his gun still clasped,

tho' numb, His head is sunk upon his breast as if by sleep

o'ercome.

VI

Hark ! distant bells are ringing, yet he does not hear

or see, He leans against the sentry-box, — a frozen form is he.

VII

A sentry froze to death last night so rumor ran

next morn, And to the beat of muffled drums he to his grave

was borne.

VIII

Above his head the cannons roared with loud and

crashing sound. The general issued the command then laid him

underground.

IX

And in the self-same hour down the village, blithe

and gay, A maid sits at her spinning-wheel and sings this

roundelay :

x

'* When six weeks pass away, sweetheart, when six

weeks pass away, I'll swing you in the dance, sweetheart, and marry

you in May,"

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AT PARTING

A four-leafed clover nosegay, dear,

I give you ere we part, From out my garden I have plucked

For you a bleeding-heart; A spring of blue forget-me-not —

A rose with these I blend, And an immortelle which shall speak

Of L,ove that knows no end.

12

A BROKEN WING

One late November afternoon,

When trees were standing bleak and bare ; And birds in numerous flocks had flown

To southern climates, warm and fair.

ii

A robin fluttering on the lawn

Was making vain attempts to fly,

And on the cold and dismal ground, Seemed left deserted — there to die.

in

His mate had kept him company

For many a cold and chilly day ;

But losing heart, and feeling numb, At length was forced to fly away.

13

IV

And thus this bird was left alone :

What could his flight be hindering ?

I hastened out to see, and found The robin had a broken wing.

A broken wing — migration now

Alas ! must be debarred to him,

A bright, warm land — the bird's fair Heaven Remain a vision, distant, dim.

VI

Ah ! crippled robin, man like thee Too often cannot reach his goal,

Ambitions thwarted — efforts crushed, Pin down to earth his longing soul.

VII

The song is ever in his heart,

Although he have no voice to sing,

He strives towards Duty, God and Heaven ; Ah, me ! he has a broken wing.

14

BEETHOVEN

Oh thou immortal Beethoven, To pay thee tribute with my pen

Forsooth, I scarcely dare ; Sublime within the realm of tone, Thou standest on a height alone,

None may with thee compare.

ii

Thy matchless music ever gives

Each human soul that strives and lives

New strength, and zeal and hope. And in thy wondrous melody We find at length a ready key

The gates of heaven to ope.

in

Tis thou hast searched the human heart And harmonized into thine art

Its secrets hidden there. Life's passions, sorrows, loves and fears, Its radiant joys — its bitter tears

Thy music layeth bare.

15

SLUMBER-SONG

(FROM THE GERMAN)

The night wind through the trees is streaming, And all the world in slumber lies, —

So now in sleep and sweetest dreaming, My darling, close your pretty eyes.

II

The silv'ry moon its light revealing,

Will to your chamber soon repair, —

And from your rosy lips be stealing

The whispers of your evening prayer.

16

A SPRING IDYL

Spring has arisen from darkness to light, Winter has lifted her pinions white, Shaken her plumage of ice and of snow. Bearing off dreariness, cold, want and woe.

ii

Filled with an ecstasy none may surmise, Violets peep from the sod to the skies, Snowdrops their delicate mantles unfold, Crocuses blossom in purple and gold.

in

Trees are athrobbing with quick flowing sap, I^eafbuds awake from their long winter nap, Waken — and little by little reveal Secrets that they can no longer conceal.

17

IV

Close by my window, the robin and thrush Burst into song on the tall lilac bush, Make the air vibrate with melodies sweet, In their delirium of joy now complete.

Spring, blessed springtime when Nature's a child, Rapturous, thrilling, exuberant, wild, — Tingling with life, and with love all aglow, Summer is calling — alas ! you must go.

18

ON

J ust to behold once those sweet, soulful eyes,

Hear the low tones of that voice soft and clear,

And be aware that there dwells 'neath the skies One who belongs to a loftier sphere.

II

W hen I consider her pure, noble life, Given in true self-surrender away,

Then I believe that, despite sin and strife, Mankind hath yet its redeemers to-day.

in

F riend of the friendless, the sick and the poor, Bringing each happiness, solace, and rest,

Bidding them hope and in patience endure, —

Who that hath known her can fail to feel blest ?

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19

THE WATER LILY

Remote from reach, upon a shore All mud and slime and weed,

Where dragon flies their sun-bath take And haste away with speed.

II

Where human footsteps seldom tread

Along the dismal shore, Hemmed in by trees that widely spread

Their branches to and fore.

in

Here by her pipe-stemmed leaves entwined

That on the waters lie, The lily rears her head to find

But solitude and sky.

20

IV

She holds aloft her snow-white cup All filled with nectar wine,

For insect and for bird to sup From out this chalice fine.

The lily grows — a splendid flower, None know her grief and pain ;

But does she in her lonely bower Bloom for the world in vain ?

VI

Ah no ! a lesson deep and wise

This flower to man has taught, —

That often in unseemly guise

Are grace and beauty wrought.

VII

As darkness brings at length the morn, As rainstorms clear the air,

So from the black mud lake is born The virgin lily fair.

21

WHEN THE ROSE'S BLOOM IS GONE

(FROM THE GERMAN)

When the rose's bloom is gone Spring comes to an end,

When at its meridian

Must the sun descend.

ii

All that can no longer climb

Falls into decay, Therefore, loved one, it is time

Death bore me away.

in

What is left me to attain

Having found Love's bliss?

Let me — clasped by thee again - Die sealed with thy kiss.

22

AUTUMN AT LAKE JOSEPH

I look out on the tall, proud oak, Out on the elm- tree blown, — The hemlock, fir, and waving pine

Shedding its crisp, brown cone.

ii

These loyal trees the autumn breeze Has decked with pennons gay,—

And crimson, yellow, purple, green, Are leaf-flags holding sway.

in

The birds in flocks have southward fled,

Deserted is each nest — Which in the Summer-time made homes,

For shelter and for rest.

23

IV

No longer pipes the whip-poor-will, I miss the jay and thrush —

And trees alive with joyous songs — Are silenced to a hush.

Alas ! too soon November bold, Will use his powerful trust, —

And all Earth's pride and glory shall Be mingled with the dust.

VI

The flags on every bush and branch, Will soon be sered and furled, —

And tossed by an indifferent wind, Out on the lonely world.

VI

I look out on the shaded woods, — The distant hills I scan —

And know that Nature follows, too The allotted Fate of Man.

24

ON HER SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY

Seventy years March hails her old, Yet it seems to me in truth, That this period marks her youth

When I her dear face behold.

II

On her brow no wrinkles lie,

Scarcely silvered is her hair, While her eyes are bright and fair,

Like a clear and cloudless sky.

in

Care and grief have been her share, Loss and disappointment too, But through all she nobly knew

These with fortitude to bear.

25

IV

In a being so whole-souled

With a heart all free from stain, Time must wield his power in vain,

Mother never can grow old.

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26

WIEDERFINDEN

(prom the gbrman)

11 Rolling waves that dance and gleam,"

Spake the flowers to the stream, " Haste not with such speed extreme."

But the brooklet made reply, — 1 ' Through the country I must hie, Mingle with the rivers free Till at length I reach the sea. Then will I come back to you, From high Heaven, in drops of dew."

27

THE SPANGLED TREES

Drearily all thro' a dull winter's day, Down came the drizzling rain, — Down on the mountain in ermine of snow, Dripping and sprinkling the Earth too below, L,ed by the wind's wild strain.

ii

Cheery and happy their mission to fill Out from the clouds they fell, — Thousands of raindrops beginning to freeze, Clung to the motherly arms of the trees, Where worked a wondrous spell.

in

When the next morning these raindrops awoke, Soon as they opened their eyes, Found themselves changed into gems the most rare — Diamonds and pearls — sparkling jewels they were, Strung into rosaries

28

IV

For the good Sun sent her fairy beams out, Each with a wand of gold,

Bidding them touch every raindrop — when lo !

Bright precious stones they became, all aglow Dazzlingly fair to behold.

If life's hard duties and trials we meet Willingly, without repine. They like the raindrops transfigured will be, And we shall in them Beatitudes see, Making our lives divine.

LITTLE METIS

'Tis a joy beyond measure, A happy release,

To come to the freedom Of Little Metis.

II

To drink of its air,

Strongly seasoned with brine, And oftentimes mingled

With cedar and pine.

in

Like a prisoner loosed

From his fetters and chain, We flee from the heat

Of the city to gain

30

IV

Renewal of vigor,

And spirits refreshed, Our cares and our weariness

All lulled to rest.

The sheltering rocks

Bid us beachward to dream, Or watch sailing vessels

Glide down the Gulf stream.

VI

And often allured

By the moon's shimmering light We steer our canoe

O'er the waters by night.

VII

Ah ! this is the haven

Of joy, health and peace- All hail ! and a blessing

On little Metis.

31

ELEGY

V ictoria, queen all other queens above, I mmortalized on Earth as great and good, C ombining in thy reign of peace and love T he graces of ideal womanhood.

0 ur hearts are steeped in grief that thou are gone, R evered sovereign all the world held dear.

1 n radiant splendour shon'st thou like the sun ; A nd now we mourn the setting of thy sphere.

3»

EVENING SONG

(FROM THE GERMAN)

At eventide, When the moon shines out on high, Songs light up the poet's heart, Brightly, brightly gleaming.

At eventide, When the moon shines out on high, Tears unbidden rise and start, From the eyelids streaming.

At eventide, When the moon shines out on high, 'Tis of thee, my all who art, I am dreaming, dreaming.

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MOUNT SHASTA

Like some gigantic wave congealed, Thy white crest towering high

Against the heavens, thou risest there In regal majesty.

ii

We gaze far up thy snowy heights Mount Shasta, strong and free,

From pointed spruce and cedars green To thy pure radiancy.

in

Down in the valley, at thy feet

The peasant folk abide, And in their simple, rural homes

Feel sheltered by thy side.

IV

Protecting Power, thou art, oh Mount,

That every fear disarms, Surrounding us, embracingly

Like everlasting arms.

SUNSET AT OGUNQUIT

What mystic glory gilded earth and sea,

When fair Ogunquit we took leave of thee !

The setting sun transfigured seemed to be

As down the western slope so silently

I watched him gently, slowly, sink and die.

A flaming battlefield appeared the sky, —

The sun, a hero left upon the plain

By countless deadly, golden arrows slain.

And Nature glowed with pride that he should make

This sacrifice alone for Night's sweet sake.

35

A SUMMER IDYL

Insects murmur softly o'er me,

Rippling waves trip up the shore,

Gentle breezes in the pine-trees Tell of peace forevermore.

ii

Humming birds on wings a- whirring Sip choice nectar from the flowers,

Marigold and sweet geraniums

Yield their honey thro' the hours.

in

In the deep blue vault of Heaven Clouds are drifting on and on,

Slowly, silently are drifting

To some port to me unknown

36

IV

And aweary I am seeking

Rest in this sequestered place, Folded in the arms of Nature,

Find repose in her embrace.

I^akb Joseph

37

"LONG SINCE AND NOW"

(prom the gbrmak)

With joy I welcomed each new morn in youth, At eve I wept — but since old age arose,

I start each day in doubt, and find, forsooth, A sacred happiness attends its close.

A MAY MORNING

The gates of Heaven are flung apart That Spring may step without

To bring her treasures down to earth And scatter them about.

ii

With what sweet joy and silent hope

The very air is rife, Each blade of grass, each tiny bud,

Is throbbing with new life.

in

The birds are nesting in the trees

As cheerily they sing, The happiness they once more feel

At the return of Spring.

39

IV

Oh ! might this season exquisite,

But linger on and on, These innocent, young budding days

That Nature smiles upon.

But summer has her place to fill, And thus, alas ! so soon,

The radiant mornings of the May, Slip into pensive June.

40

IN SOLITUDE

Here to the beech woods I have come, The morn is fresh and fair,

And in the solitude I breathe A hallowed, peaceful air.

II

The sunbeams play at hide and seek Among the sheltering trees,

A sportive chipmunk brushes by, A song-bird wooes the breeze.

in

My soul is steeped in soothing balm, Within this still retreat,

Where folded in kind Nature's arms Is solace that is sweet.

41

IV

The mossy bank on which I lie Seems like a sacred shrine,

Here in these woods so eloquent With harmonies divine.

I look out towards the Infinite Whose ways I cannot grasp,

And 'tis as if a hand was stretched To hold me in its clasp.

VI

Oh I^aw supreme, oh Power unknown,

I solitude I come, And filled with awe and reverence

I bow before thee — dumb.

43

" I WEPT WHILE I WAS DREAMING "

(PROM THE GERMAN)

I wept while I was dreaming,

I dreamed that thou was dead, —

I woke — my cheeks all moistened With tears that I had shed.

ii

I wept while I was dreaming

Dreamed thou didst me forsake,

I woke — and still was sobbing As if my heart would break.

in

I wept while I was dreaming,

I dreamed thee good and true,-

I woke — the tears still flooding My happy eyes anew

43

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Martin, Martha

-The Weed's philosophy

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