Old Spookses' Pass, Malcolm's Katie, and other poems Part 10

"Mild soul of the unsalted wave!

White bosom holding golden fire Deep as some ocean-hidden cave Are fix'd the roots of thy desire, Thro' limpid currents stealing up, And rounding to the pearly cup Thou dost desire, With all thy trembling heart of sinless fire, But to be fill'd With dew distill'd From clear, fond skies, that in their gloom Hold, floating high, thy sister moon, Pale chalice of a sweet perfume, Whiter-breasted than a dove-- To thee the dew is--love!"

Kate bared her little feet, and pois'd herself On the first log close grating on the sh.o.r.e; And with bright eyes of laughter, and wild hair-- A flying wind of gold--from log to log Sped, laughing as they wallow'd in her track, Like brown-scal'd monsters rolling, as her foot Spurn'd each in turn with its rose-white sole.

A little island, out in middlewave, With its green shoulder held the great drive brac'd Between it and the mainland; here it was The silver lilies drew her with white smiles; And as she touch'd the last great log of all, It reel'd, upstarting, like a column brac'd, A second on the wave--and when it plung'd Rolling upon the froth and sudden foam, Katie had vanish'd, and with angry grind The vast logs roll'd together,--nor a lock Of drifting yellow hair--an upflung hand, Told where the rich man's chiefest treasure sank Under his wooden wealth. But Alfred, laid With pipe and book upon the shady marge, Of the cool isle, saw all, and seeing hurl'd Himself, and hardly knew it, on the logs; By happy chance a shallow lapp'd the isle On this green bank; and when his iron arms Dash'd the bark'd monsters, as frail stems of rice, A little s.p.a.ce apart, the soft, slow tide But reach'd his chest, and in a flash he saw Kate's yellow hair, and by it drew her up, And lifting her aloft, cried out, "O, Kate!"

And once again said, "Katie! is she dead?"

For like the lilies broken by the rough And sudden riot of the armor'd logs, Kate lay upon his hands; and now the logs Clos'd in upon him, nipping his great chest, Nor could he move to push them off again For Katie in his arms. "And now," he said, "If none should come, and any wind arise "To weld these woody monsters 'gainst the isle, "I shall be crack'd like any broken twig; "And as it is, I know not if I die, "For I am hurt--aye, sorely, sorely hurt!"

Then look'd on Katie's lily face, and said, "Dead, dead or living? Why, an even chance.

"O lovely bubble on a troubl'd sea, "I would not thou shoulds't lose thyself again "In the black ocean whence thy life emerg'd, "But skyward steal on gales as soft as love, "And hang in some bright rainbow overhead, "If only such bright rainbow spann'd the earth."

Then shouted loudly, till the silent air Rous'd like a frighten'd bird, and on its wings Caught up his cry and bore it to the farm.

There Malcolm, leaping from his noontide sleep, Upstarted as at midnight, crying out, "She shall not wed him--rest you, wife, in peace!'

They found him, Alfred, haggard-ey'd and faint, But holding Katie ever towards the sun, Unhurt, and waking in the fervent heat.

And now it came that Alfred being sick Of his sharp hurts and tended by them both, With what was like to love, being born of thanks, Had choice of hours most politic to woo, And used his deed as one might use the sun, To ripen unmellow'd fruit; and from the core Of Katie's grat.i.tude hop'd yet to nurse A flow'r all to his liking--Katie's love.

But Katie's mind was like the plain, broad s.h.i.+eld Of a table di'mond, nor had a score of sides; And in its s.h.i.+eld, so precious and so plain, Was cut, thro' all its clear depths--Max's name!

And so she said him "Nay" at last, in words Of such true sounding silver, that he knew He might not win her at the present hour, But smil'd and thought--"I go, and come again!

"Then shall we see. Our three-score years and ten "Are mines of treasure, if we hew them deep, "Nor stop too long in choosing out our tools!"

PART IV.

From his far wigwam sprang the strong North Wind And rush'd with war-cry down the steep ravines, And wrestl'd with the giants of the woods; And with his ice-club beat the swelling crests.

Of the deep watercourses into death, And with his chill foot froze the whirling leaves Of dun and gold and fire in icy banks; And smote the tall reeds to the harden'd earth; And sent his whistling arrows o'er the plains, Scatt'ring the ling'ring herds--and sudden paus'd When he had frozen all the running streams, And hunted with his war-cry all the things That breath'd about the woods, or roam'd the bleak Bare prairies swelling to the mournful sky.

"White squaw," he shouted, troubl'd in his soul, "I slew the dead, wrestl'd with naked chiefs "Unplum'd before, scalped of their leafy plumes; "I bound sick rivers in cold thongs of death, "And shot my arrows over swooning plains, "Bright with the Paint of death--and lean and bare.

"And all the braves of my loud tribe will mock "And point at me--when our great chief, the Sun, "Relights his Council fire in the moon "Of Budding Leaves." "Ugh, ugh! he is a brave!

"He fights with squaws and takes the scalps of babes!

"And the least wind will blow his calumet-- "Fill'd with the breath of smallest flow'rs--across "The warpaint on my face, and pointing with "His small, bright pipe, that never moved a spear "Of bearded rice, cry, 'Ugh! he slays the dead!'

"O, my white squaw, come from thy wigwam grey, "Spread thy white blanket on the twice-slain dead; "And hide them, ere the waking of the Sun!"

High grew the snow beneath the low-hung sky, And all was silent in the Wilderness; In trance of stillness Nature heard her G.o.d Rebuilding her spent fires, and veil'd her face While the Great Worker brooded o'er His work.

"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree, What doth thy bold voice promise me?"

"I promise thee all joyous things, That furnish forth the lives of kings!

"For ev'ry silver ringing blow, Cities and palaces shall grow!"

"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree, Tell wider prophecies to me."

"When rust hath gnaw'd me deep and red; A nation strong shall lift his head!

"His crown the very Heav'ns shall smite, Aeons shall build him in his might!"

"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree; Bright Seer, help on thy prophecy!"

Max smote the snow-weigh'd tree and lightly laugh'd.

"See, friend," he cried to one that look'd and smil'd, "My axe and I--we do immortal tasks-- We build up nations--this my axe and I!"

"O," said the other with a cold, short smile, "Nations are not immortal! is there now "One nation thron'd upon the sphere of earth, "That walk'd with the first G.o.ds, and saw "The budding world unfold its slow-leav'd flow'r?

"Nay; it is hardly theirs to leave behind "Ruins so eloquent, that the h.o.a.ry sage "Can lay his hand upon their stones, and say: "'These once were thrones!' The lean, lank lion peals "His midnight thunders over lone, red plains, "Long-ridg'd and crested on their dusty waves, "With fires from moons red-hearted as the sun; "And deep re-thunders all the earth to him.

"For, far beneath the flame-fleck'd, s.h.i.+fting sands, "Below the roots of palms, and under stones "Of younger ruins, thrones, tow'rs and cities "Honeycomb the earth. The high, solemn walls "Of h.o.a.ry ruins--their foundings all unknown "(But to the round-ey'd worlds that walk "In the blank paths of s.p.a.ce and blanker Chance).

"At whose stones young mountains wonder, and the seas'

"New-silv'ring, deep-set valleys pause and gaze; "Are rear'd upon old shrines, whose very G.o.ds "Were dreams to the shrine-builders, of a time "They caught in far-off flashes--as the child "Half thinks he can remember how one came "And took him in her hand and shew'd him that "He thinks, she call'd the sun. Proud s.h.i.+ps rear high "On ancient billows that have torn the roots "Of cliffs, and bitten at the golden lips "Of firm, sleek beaches, till they conquer'd all, "And sow'd the reeling earth with salted waves.

"Wrecks plunge, prow foremost, down still, solemn slopes, "And bring their dead crews to as dead a quay; "Some city built before that ocean grew, "By silver drops from many a floating cloud, "By icebergs bellowing in their throes of death, "By lesser seas toss'd from their rocking cups, "And leaping each to each; by dew-drops flung "From painted sprays, whose weird leaves and flow'rs "Are moulded for new dwellers on the earth, "Printed in hearts of mountains and of mines.

"Nations immortal? where the well-trimm'd lamps "Of long-past ages, when Time seem'd to pause "On smooth, dust-blotted graves that, like the tombs "Of monarchs, held dead bones and sparkling gems?

"She saw no glimmer on the hideous ring "Of the black clouds; no stream of sharp, clear light "From those great torches, pa.s.s'd into the black "Of deep oblivion. She seem'd to watch, but she "Forgot her long-dead nations. When she stirr'd "Her vast limbs in the dawn that forc'd its fire "Up the black East, and saw the imperious red "Burst over virgin dews and budding flow'rs, "She still forgot her molder'd thrones and kings, "Her sages and their torches, and their G.o.ds, "And said, 'This is my birth--my primal day!'

"She dream'd new G.o.ds, and rear'd them other shrines, "Planted young nations, smote a feeble flame "From sunless flint, re-lit the torch of mind; "Again she hung her cities on the hills, "Built her rich towers, crown'd her kings again, "And with the sunlight on her awful wings "Swept round the flow'ry cestus of the earth, "And said, 'I build for Immortality!'

"Her vast hand rear'd her tow'rs, her shrines, her thrones; "The ceaseless sweep of her tremendous wings "Still beat them down and swept their dust abroad; "Her iron finger wrote on mountain sides "Her deeds and prowess--and her own soft plume "Wore down the hills! Again drew darkly on "A night of deep forgetfulness; once more "Time seem'd to pause upon forgotten graves-- "Once more a young dawn stole into her eyes-- "Again her broad wings stirr'd, and fresh clear airs, "Blew the great clouds apart;--again Time said, "'This is my birth--my deeds and handiwork "'Shall be immortal.' Thus and so dream on "Fool'd nations, and thus dream their dullard sons.

"Naught is immortal save immortal--Death!"

Max paus'd and smil'd: "O, preach such gospel, friend, "To all but lovers who most truly love; "For _them_, their gold-wrought scripture glibly reads "All else is mortal but immortal--Love!"

"Fools! fools!" his friend said, "most immortal fools!-- "But pardon, pardon, for, perchance, you love?"

"Yes," said Max, proudly smiling, "thus do I "Possess the world and feel eternity!"

Dark laughter blacken'd in the other's eyes: "Eternity! why, did such Iris arch "Ent'ring our worm-bored planet, never liv'd "One woman true enough such tryst to keep!"

"I'd swear by Kate," said Max; "and then, I had "A mother, and my father swore by her."

"By Kate? Ah, that were l.u.s.ty oath, indeed!

"Some other man will look into her eyes, "And swear me roundly, 'By true Catherine!'

"And Troilus swore by Cressed--so they say."

"You never knew my Kate," said Max, and pois'd His axe again on high, "But let it pa.s.s-- "You are too subtle for me; argument "Have I none to oppose yours with--but this, "Get you a Kate, and let her sunny eyes "Dispel the doubting darkness in your soul."

"And have not I a Kate? pause, friend, and see.

"She gave me this faint shadow of herself "The day I slipp'd the watch-star of our loves-- "A ring--upon her hand--she loves me, too; "Yet tho' her eyes be suns, no G.o.ds are they "To give me worlds, or make me feel a tide "Of strong Eternity set towards my soul; "And tho' she loves me, yet am I content "To know she loves me by the hour--the year-- "Perchance the second--as all women love."

The bright axe falter'd in the air, and ripp'd Down the rough bark, and bit the drifted snow, For Max's arm fell, wither'd in its strength, 'Long by his side. "Your Kate," he said; "your Kate!"

"Yes, mine, while holds her mind that way, my Kate; "I sav'd her life, and had her love for thanks; "Her father is Malcolm Graem--Max, my friend, "You pale! what sickness seizes on your soul?"

Max laugh'd, and swung his bright axe high again: "Stand back a pace--a too far reaching blow "Might level your false head with yon p.r.o.ne trunk-- "Stand back and listen while I say, "You lie!

"That is my Katie's face upon your breast, "But 'tis my Katie's love lives in my breast-- "Stand back, I say! my axe is heavy, and "Might chance to cleave a liar's brittle skull.

"Your Kate! your Kate! your Kate!--hark, how the woods "Mock at your lie with all their woody tongues, "O, silence, ye false echoes! not his Kate "But mine--I'm certain I will have your life!"

All the blue heav'n was dead in Max's eyes; Doubt-wounded lay Kate's image in his heart, And could not rise to pluck the sharp spear out.

"Well, strike, mad fool," said Alfred, somewhat pale; "I have no weapon but these naked hands."

"Aye, but," said Max, "you smote my naked heart!