The Heavenly Guest

THE

HEAV EN LY G U EST

WITH OTHER UNPUBLISHED WRITINGS

CELIA THAXTER

With Re p ri n ts Of Essays By Friends A nd

Contemporaries . EDITED B Y

He r Lai ht on M at eri al Brother , Oscar g , From

The In P ossession Of He r Granddaughter . T to

o r 193 . C py ight , 5 b O CA R LA IC H I' ’ O N y S .

All s e se e right r rv d . r C O U T TS C O . S M ITH S . PRIN TE RS

A n do v e r ass . , M CONTENTS

a - e The He avenly G ue st n Whitti r

T he Pre ac h er M an o So nn e t

m On The B e ac h

m The Hea venly M essage

o The Troll And Tn s Lake 28

c So n g

Th h A n d The Y Crowne d e C ild ear 3 1

T o Y o u th

T he Lesson

’ T he San dpiper s Happy A Tho ught Of Spri ng

T n B r n A S ad Old St ory o J . Appl e to o w

Chri stmas M orn B ack Agai n

M ai z e Eve n Th o u

S onne t The Cro wn Of The Y e ar 38

A n Idyl Heavenly He ights

Al o f t In Fre deri c k sb urg

T he Fo g B e ll Willi am M ason

T he Path Of Pe ac e R omanc e

Promi ses 22 Hark

T he Unl u cky N um b er 23 ! ate Vannah

Co tton 24 Awak en i ng CONTENTS

To Laure n ce Hu tton 46 Right A nd Wron g

The Wat er - Lily 47 E n trea ty

In Th e Val l ey A S o n g Of Spri n g

T Almighty Love o A Child With E ast e r Lili e s A S ermon The G re e n Le aves Whi spe r Chri stm as Ev e Low

A n d Hi s Will I s Ou r Pe a c e 52 Chri stmas A n ge l From A Corn er M o o nlight To Pastu re In D arkne ss

So nn e t Th e O nl y Foe 58 A M orn i n g Vi si o n

? a e e 59 Wh t Ch r F ’ o r A Fri e n d s Birthd ay

A V o i l e t 60 Th ’ e Po e t s Fan cy In Swit z erl an d 6 1 To ge th e r S i n g Chri stm as 62 A t E ast e r Time

e as e ow S id Fl ers 63 T he ! i n g A nd The B i sho p 81 m Te p est 65 Th e Pri n c e ss H ermi o ne

T urn Home Ag ai n 67 CONTENTS

ESSAYS B Y FRIEND S OF CELIA THAXTER A nnie Fields L A Mrs . arz nderson Maud Appleton M c Dowe ll A Visitor Correspondence of the Chicag o Tri b u ne Prepared f o r the Christia n S c ien c e M o n it o r

Judge Justin H . Shaw John Albee

POEM S B Y FRIENDS OF CELIA THAXTER Blanche Fearing Mary Livingston Tarleton Eben Rexford L M . . B . E A . . . W

A LETTER FROM CELIA THAXTER TO HE R S ON JOHN 1 7 5 PREFACE

b a o Rev . De N I remem er , long g , James ormandie T xt R gave a lecture on Celia ha er , in the Music oom at the The h al l A ppledore Ho use . was crowded with the elite o l from the h te s at the Isles o f Shoals .

De N ! x Mr . ormandie said Celia Tha ter stands alone

- m . ed New E pre e inent , among the gift singers of ngland , e for th e charm and sweetness of her songs . W do not ﬁnd S he o that bel nged to any church , yet , through her verse

n c o f there“bre ath es the fragra e a divine faith . She studied all that was ﬁne in every Creed , ﬁnding something beautiful even in the Kor an and teachings of

Confucius . ’ w as I have thought , that in my sister s last days , she D leaning toward Unitarianism ; being fond of Mr . e No his rmandie , she attended church , when in Portsmouth ﬁnding great interest in what that be loved gentleman said

r to his Cong egation . Many years ag o Celia Thaxter wrote a poem adapted from one of the short stori es of Count Tolstoy ; she called “ ” h H T e . To it eavenly Guest my delight , it has been R Th found by her granddaughter , osamond axter , in a portfolio which had been loaned to the late Sarah “Orne h The ewett w as er . J , and which returned after death With Heavenly Guest” were also found many unpublished ’ n Th e ma uscrip ts of Celia Thaxter s . reader must remember that as Celia did n ot publish these poems she probably

considered them unﬁnished , or below the standard of her

best work . It i s near ﬁfty years ago Celia wrote The Heavenly ” Gu am ; when she read the verse I was . so moved by its charm , its pathos and sweetness , I found my eyes wet with ’ tears . I recall my sister s delight at my emotional eriti i c sm . This beautiful poem does not appear in her h as published work , and only just come into the possession

! R T x of her granddaughter , osamond ha ter .

w as 1 835 Cen ten Celia born in , making this year the R nial of her birth . With my niece , osamond , I have

f o r bound greater safety , within the covers of this book f these last leaves of the writings o Celia Thaxter .

O S CAR LAI GH T ON THE HEAV EN LY G U EST

Th i e winter night Shuts swiftly down . Within his l ttle humble room

Martin , the good old shoemaker , sits musing in the gather

ing gloom .

Hi s off tiny lamp from its hook he takes , and lights its

friendly beam , Reaches for his beloved book and reads it by the flickering

gleam .

L ’ A ong pores he o er the sacred page . t last he lifts his

shaggy head . h ow If unto me the Master came , should I welcome ? ” Him he said ; S hould I be like the Pharisee , with selﬁsh thoughts ﬁlled to the brim , — Or like the sorrowing sinner , she who weeping ministered to Him ? ”

He l aid h is head upon his arms , and while he thought , upon him crept

S s so lumber o gentle and soft he did not realize he slept. ”

! . H e Martin he heard a low voice call started , looked toward the door ! ”

H . ! N o one was there . e dozed again Martin he heard

it call once more .

- L Martin , to morrow I will come . ook out upon the street ” for me . He rose , and slowly rubbed his eyes , and gazed about him

drowsily . THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

. W es I dreamed , he said , and went to rest aking betim with morn“ing light , He wondered , Were they but a dream , the words I seemed ? ” t o hear last night

T hen , working by his Window low , he watched the passers

f ro to and . S Poor tephen , feeble , bent and old , was shoveling away the snow ! Martin at last l a U ghe d at himself for watching all so

eagerly . What fool am I ! What look I for ? Think I the Master ’s face t o see

” n f ! He I must be goi g da t , indeed turned him to his work

once more ,

An d stitched awhile , but presently found he was watching

as before . Old Stephen leaned against the wall ; weary and out of

breath was he . ” Come in , friend , Martin cried , come , rest , and warm

yourself , and have some tea .

! ” S May Christ reward you tephen said , rejoicing in the welcome heat ; ” “ w as so ! Sit I tired , Martin begged , be comforted ” and drink and eat . But even while hi s grateful guest refreshed his chilled and

toil - worn frame ’ Did Martin s eyes stil l strive t o scan each passing form

that went and came . THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

” A re ? S you expecting somebody old tephen asked . A n d

Martin told , T ’ T hough half ashamed , his last night s dream . ruly , I am not quite so bold A s t o expect a thing like that , he said , yet , somehow , still I look ! ” With that from off its shelf he took his worn and precious

Holy Book .

Y esterday I was reading here , how among simple folk H e walked ld D ? ? ” o . o N o Of , and taught them you know about it S o then he talked ‘ The S . With joy to tephen Jesus said , kind , the generous ,

the poor ,

Blessed are they , the humble souls , to be exalted ever 7 7 ? more .

With tears of gladness in his eyes poor Stephen rose and

went his way , ? His soul and body comforted ; and quietly passed on the

day , Till Martin from his window saw a woman shiverin g in

the cold , Trying to shield her little babe with her thin garment worn

and old .

H e t o o she called her in and fed her , , and while ate he did his best

T o make the tiny baby smile , that She might have a little rest ; THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

” N o w ! may Christ bless you , sir she cried , when warmed and cheered she would have gone ;

' He T th took his old cloak from the wall . will keep e ” cold out . Put it on .

Sh l e wept . Christ led you to ook out and pity wretched ” h s e . me , said “ ” H e ! Martin replied , Indeed did and told his story

earnestly ,

H o w h ad the low voice said , I will come , and he

watched the livelong day . All n things are possible , she said , and then she , also , we t

her way .

sat - b Once more he him down to work , and on the passers y

to look , T ill the night fell , and then again he lit his lamp and took

his book . A nother happy hour was spent , when all at once he seemed to hear A rustling sound behind his chair ; he listened , without

thought o f fear .

He Did peered about . something move in yonder corner dim and dark ? ? “ Was that a voice that spoke his name Did you n ot ” “ ? H ! know me , Martin ark ? ” “ Wh o . V spoke cried Martin It is I , replied the oice , and Stephen stepped ’ s Forth from the dusk and smiled at him , and Martin heart within him leapt !

4 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

T w as S hen like a cloud tephen gone , and once again did Martin hear T V A n is . d hat heavenly oice this I , sounded in tones

divinely clear . From out the darkness softly came the woman with the

little child , a s she Gazing at him with gentle eyes , and , vanished

sweetly smiled .

T t U hen Martin thrilled wi h solemn joy . pon the sacred page read he H w as ungry I , ye gave me meat ; thirsty , and ye gave drink to me ; A as stranger I , ye took me in , and unto the lowliest one Of these my brethren , even the least , ye did it , unto Me ’ ” twas done .

An d Martin understood at last it w as no vision born of

sleep , A n d all his soul in prayer and praise ﬁlled with a rapture

still and deep .

H e not had been deceived , it was no fancy of the twilight dim

l o rl o u s ! The But g truth Master came , and he had minis i t ere d to H m . THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE PREA CHER MAN

sun is O the is bright and the day fair , An d the sweet breeze wanders everywhere ,

A n d as the sweet birds sing they lightly ﬂy , A n d I wish we could j oin them , Madge and I .

hidden We are to listen and so we do , S ff ew hut up in the narrow and stu y p ,

as Behaving just well as we can ,

We look over there at the preacher man .

’

I can t understand , though I take such pains ;

All e sense seems gon from our little brains ,

S o sit we just quiet as best we may , A n d wait till the long hour wears away . My poor little sister tried to keep

He r blue eyes wide , but she fell asleep , ’ Tis so close and stupid and dull and warm n A d I hold her safe in my tired arm .

But what in the world he i s talking about ’ We do not know , and we can t ﬁnd out . 0 h ow so can he have much to say , ? The preacher man , such a lovely day

SHIPWRECK

From the piled ridge of this deserted Shore ,

e - V S e how wild morning glory ines have grown , T ill like a light green , gentle tide they pour

- D the e . own long slop of broken , wave smoothed stone

6 THE HEA VENL Y G UEST

H ow the bare beach is clothed as with a cool A n d graceful garment , where beyond the reach

Of waves that softly break , as white as wool , L ies scattered driftwood which the hot suns bleach .

Green leaves and rosy bloom all undisturbe d m By wind or wave , safe in the sum er calm ; Th e fury of the ocean stayed and curbed , h T e mad gales hushed and breathing only balm .

Silence and peace ! but all the ledge is strown

With splintered timbers whitening in the sun . Four months ag o a mighty ship was thrown — on e Here at our feet her crew all drowned save .

’ The breakers tossed her like a baby s toy , R b ul l olled her and crushed her , broke her in twain ,

S s napped her tall masts of oak , and to de troy ’ All f x trace o her e istence e en were fain .

He r great sails beaten into shapeless rags ,

He r o f huge hull but a heap bristling beams ,

He r dead crew scattered among reefs and crags ,

Where yonder white gull ﬂoating wheels and screams .

Sh e lay , a chaos , while the howling sea

Plucked at the fragments , and the hurricane R oared at the ruin still , and sullenly

The tempest spent its useless wrath insane .

L ! ook at the flowers what lavish , delicate An d ! S ee glowing beauty this rosy bell , T of his chalice tranquillity , where late h T e shattered timbers o f the great ship fell . TH E HEA VENL Y G UES T

H ow h o w h ow fair , sweet , tender and divine T ! his glory of the morning , still and pure ? What meant that cruel wrath Heaven makes n o Sign

Humanity must patiently endure . For death replies with silence worse than pain ’

T o . all man s pleading Pluck the perfect ﬂower , Grateful for peace while p e ace may yet remain ; T error and misery will claim their hour .

An d fruitless prayers pierce heaven from trusting souls , T rampled defenceless the wild waves beneath , ’ l ow O er many a grave yon , bright billow rolls ,

While from the ﬂower grace , j oy and beauty breathe . MY FRIEND

O Fortune , thou whose potent hand doth hold Al l gifts , unlocking with thy mystic keys L ove , fame , wealth , powers and pleasures manifold , Bring to my friend the olive boughs of peace !

For in this storm - tossed world what shall avail ? Thy Iargess of the glittering shows of life S t o se e ome day is sure their splendors fail , ’ Dimmed by earth s dreary clouds of pain and strife .

But the tran quillity o f soul that grows

From holy living and a conscience clean ,

Sweeter than fragrance of the n ew - blown rose Clearer than stainless heights of heaven serene

O Fortune , with that blessing crown my friend , t With that divine content , tha golden ease The pure in heart alone may comprehend

S o bring my friend the olive - boughs of peace !

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

CROWNED

The last gold lily in the garden blows

The long , sweet days pause at their greatest length ,

The o f air is rich with odors the rose , ’ A n d summer s heat begins to gather strength .

Flushes the pink dawn over silver seas ,

The idle sail lies lapped in dreamful calm , An d waits , for in the south the wandering breeze L ingering , is loth to leave the slender palm .

S oars the white gull in splendor through the S ky

With dazzling pinions lost in azure air , S leep the light clouds all motionless on high , Or on the far se a line in islets fair

The honeysuckle chalices outp o ur D elicious perfumes on the dewy night , ’ The rosy winged sphinx wheels hovering o e r

The m . many clustered phloxes , glim ering white S inks the red moon , a crescent low and large , S cattering its broken rubies on the tide , L o w whispers breathe along the ocean marge ,

A s if in heaven some happy spirit sighed .

Beyond the beauty of the ripening year , T hrilling with deep enchantment sense and soul ,

A of hint higher rapture still I hear ,

Of wonder sent to glorify the whole .

Lo - T ! The ! T o , hou soft airs sing thee my heart The day and night but change to bring thee near !

o f Th e central spark every joy thou art ,

The essence of all things divine and dear .

10 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

Th y blush is in the dawn , thy tender tones

In every gentle sound upon the air , ’ S e hadows to me are the world s crowns and thron s , ’ For the king s purple by thy gift I wear .

TO Y OUTH

T Y ake heed , O outh , both brave and bright , Battles there are for you to ﬁght ! S tand erect and face them all ,

N o r turn and ﬂee , nor wavering fall ; ’ Of all the world s bewi ldering gifts T ake only what the soul uplifts , Keep ﬁrm your hand upon the helm L est bitter tempests overwhelm ,

A n d watch lest evil mists should mar ,

The splendor of your morning star , An d robe the glory of the day

Y o u have not reached , in sullen gray Y ! Choose them , O outh , both bright and brave Wilt be a monarch or a slave ? Ah ! scorn t o take o n e step below The paths where Truth and H onor g o ! ’ On manhood s threshold stand a king , D emanding all that life can bring , Of lofty thought , of purpose high ,

Of beauty and nobility ,

n o Once master of yourself , fate

Can make your rich world desolate , A n d all men shall look up t o see

The glory o f your victory .

1 1 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE LES SON

Her i s as as se gown white the light a spray , The on m pretty Pauline , this su mer day , Like the rainbows that melt at the edge of the surf The ﬂower foam breaks on the emerald turf ,

A se a —h o w ! of blossoms , sweet , how fair Wh ! at tempered sunshine , what fragrant air Where the butterﬂy and the banded bee A nd the Singing birds ﬂoat merrily ,

To l e arn her task she h as brought her book ’ But tis hard on the printed page to look , A n d ﬂowers , bees , butterﬂies , breeze and birds f Steal the meaning away rom the weighty words .

Keep wise book lore f o r the time indoors

Where no Sights arrest and no sound allures ,

Let your soul listen , O sweet Pauline , A n d learn what the golden hour may mean !

THE SANDPIPER ’S HA PPY CALL

The Sk i s sh y like ashes of roses , the few y stars are white , On the horizon the delicate haze Sleeps soft in the dying

light . ’ The bell on the buoy rings faintly with the ocean s rise

and fall . A n d sweet through the warm May twilight comes the sand ’ piper s happy call .

1 2 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

The touch of the breeze is like a caress , the sound of the

se a like a dream , L ike a dream the past and present melt , all things unreal seem ; A ll the years of our lives as we sail through space on the ’ earth s huge spinning ball ,

But sweet , oh sweet through the twilight comes the sand ’ piper s tender call .

0 wh o friends , oh dear companions , made life so rich and

bright , In what world are you hidden afar from my longing sight ? E mpty and cold are your places , I miss you one and all , A s sweet through the dewy dusk again trembl es the sand ’ piper s call .

Th e summer is clothing herself once more in her green and

rose and gold ,

In all her splendors of color and perfumed airs as of old , A n d a thousand wistful memories her sights and her sounds recall “ A s sweet through the listening twilight comes the sand ’ piper s happy call .

Lo , mystery lies behind us and mystery lies before ,

n ot H T But thou dost mock us , eavenly Power , hou wilt our lost restore ! Thou bringest again the summer and Thy promise of hope f or all ’ S ounds sweet and sure as I hear once more the s andpiper s

happy call .

13 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A SAD OLD STORY

The summer wind was rustling in the elm - trees The summer ﬂowers were blossoming below ; Tw o t stood toge her in the little garden , ’ t Touched softly by the sunse s fading glow .

The voice of one rose sweet , and young , and eager , S h O e trong, full of p and courage , ﬁrm and glad , The other answered thrilling through the twilight ,

Broken and tender , faltering and sad .

Mother , he said , wherever I am drifting

The sh all wide world over , I think of you , ’ A n d ! I ll come back to you , O never doubt it ’ ” S o proudly sailing o er the sparkling blue .

His l o oks bright head , with its of sunny beauty , ! One little moment on her breast doth l ie

Th e next a cry goes through the balmy darkness , “ ” G ! O e ! oodbye , my darling my boy , goodby

A A winter morning on the fierce tlantic , An d like a beast o f prey the wild wind soars ° Rushing before it reins the raging oce an al To fling its flakes of ice on l the shores .

A wreck is heaving slowly on the billows , ’ Torn by th e hungry ledge s cruel teeth ; The red sun rises slow through stinging vapor , n A d ﬂares across the waves that kiss and seethe .

14 THE HEA VENL Y G UEST

Swinging head downward from the tangled rigging ’ r his Flung o e the stern , bright hair in the brine

Washing forlornly , hangs the cherished darling ,

n o . Stark , frozen , with wide eyes that make Sign

f o r She Sits and waits him with love and longing,

She breathes his name with tender tears and prayers ,

The while like tigers ﬁerce the breakers toss him ,

An d in his face the mocking sunshine stares .

CHRISTMAS MORN Amid the rigor of the ice and snow Th ’ e happy season s thoughts glow bright and warm , Roses of gladness an d of beauty blow

In the white track of the wild , wintry storm .

Our gratef ul thoughts with prayer and psalm we raise

In unison with clear Christmas chime , Sweet human love and reverence and praise

Make precious and divine the sacred time . Close to the dim church portal whence em erge The worshippers , I comb a scattered crowd , A ’ robin perches at the footpath s verge ,

Sends up his song and carols long and loud .

W - hat thrills thy heart , thou ruddy breasted bird , Warbling undaunted on the frosty bough ? H the ast thou perhaps happy tidings heard , ? An d for our joy so blithely S ingest thou W ell mayest thou send up thy delicious voice , An d join o u r jubilee this Christmas morn ! W t ith all hings give thanks ; thou mayest rejoice , ’ Fo r on this day the world s great Hope was born .

15 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

M AIZE

’ Fo r the N at i o n s Em bl e m

Upon a hundred thousand plains

Its banners rustle in the breeze , ’ ’ O er all the nations wide domains , x From coast to coast betwi t the seas .

It storms the hills and ﬁlls the vales ,

It marches like an army grand , The continent its presence hails ,

Its beauty brightens all the land .

Far back through history ’s shadowy page of It shines , a power boundless good , ’ The t o people s prop from age age , The one unfailing wealth of food ,

’ ’ N ew W God s gift to the orld s great need , That helped to build the nation ’s strength Up through beginnings rude to lead A higher race of men at length .

H o w straight and tall and stately stand Its serried stalks upright and strong ! H o w e nobly are its outlines plann d , What grace and charm to it belong !

What splendid curves in rustling leaves !

What richness in its close - set gold ! What largess in its clustered sheaves N ew s ! every year , though age old

I 6

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

AN I DYL By cottage walls the lilacs blow Rich spikes of perfume stand and sway

At e asem e n ts open , where all day

h e f r T e warm wind wav s them to and o .

Out of the shadow o f the door

Into the golden morning air , Comes one who makes the day more fair

An d summer sweeter than before .

The apple blossoms might have shed Upon her cheek the bloom so rare ;

The su n has kissed her bright brown hair ,

Braided about her graceful head . Lightly betwixt the lilacs tall She — passes , thr—ough the garden gate , A t o cross the road , and stays wait A moment by the orchard wall ,

An d then in gracious light and shade ,

- Beneath the blossom laden trees , ’Mid song of birds and hum of bees

She . strays , unconscious , unafraid Till swiftly o ’er the grassy space Comes one whose step she fain would stay ;

Glad as the newly - risen day

He stoops to read her drooping face .

Her face is like the morning Skies ,

Bright , timid , tender , blushing sweet ; She dares not trust her own to meet

The steady splendor of his eyes .

1 8 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

He s holds her with re istless charm ,

With truth , with power , with beauty crowned ; About her Slender waist is wound Th e strong , safe girdle of his arm ;

A n d up and down , in shade and light , T hey wander through the ﬂying hours .

A n d is all the way strown with ﬂowers , A n d life looks like one long delight .

Ah — happy twain no frost shall harm , N o change shall reach your bliss so long AS keeps its place the faithful , strong ,

Safe girdle of that folding arm .

o u Could y this Simple secret know , N o death in life would be to fear Ere in another ﬂeeting year

By cottage walls the lilacs blow . ALOFT Pleasant and peaceful all—most sweet When morning and when evening ﬁres Silent above the busy street

T - f ouch the dove haunted roo s and spires . N eighbored by sparrow and by dove ,

A m - co rade of the weather cocks , H ere is the quiet perch I love , The chimney stacks , the city clocks

A n d thank the heavens that bend above

For leave to ﬁnd such deep delight ,

In tower and spire and ﬂuttering dove , Color and cloud and sparrow ’s ﬂight !

19 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE FOG BELL

se a In the thick mist that shrouded land and ,

- I heard the warning fog bell tolling Slow , An d its dull clangor only seemed to me

A deeper gloom across the world to throw .

e Most like a signal of d spair and dread , e With vagu uneasiness it ﬁlled the air ,

Its f o r harsh voice like a dirge rung the dead ,

S of eemed heavy with a weight woe and care .

Ah he ll , cease thy weary ja“r , discordant ,

v ex . I prayed in silence , my ear no more A n d as I prayed , a hollow murmur fell

U - pon my sense from the wave beaten Shore .

The roar o f breakers ! A n d I grew aware

T w as hat it life and hope , not death that spoke ,

N o sullen booming tidings of despair ,

But help and cheer the dangerous Silence broke .

T s . urn , turn your prow and seek the open sea

T o wandering ships incessantly it cried , Here lurks the cruel ledge to wreck you ! Flee ” While yet you may , across the waters wide .

’ Tis A e like the voice of g , I thought , which speaks ’ T o Y t f a careless outh tha dares li e s le ping wave ,

T - ill tempest tossed and mocked by mists , he seeks

The knowledge that alone shall guide and save .

20 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE PATH OF PEACE

’ It is so hard to walk earth s toilsome w a y E ver while slow moons wane , or slow increase S o hard to follow Duty day by day ’ Leading to God s peace .

O weary grows the heart and worn the feet ,

o f In the dull round uneventful cares , ’ Y et there s a thought might make our service sweet ,

Since Go d ou r toil prepares .

Lift up thy tired eyes ! N o cloud is spread

Hi s Betwixt thee and heaven serene and pure ,

He His holds hand above thy humble head ,

Thy happiness is sure .

Then keep the courage o f thy morning prime

A n d H e bravely bear the cross lays on thee , ’ Tis but a little space of troubled time

In His eternity .

R emember , only in this pathway lies Th — its y safety , once beyond sheltering bound mi What choking sts , what bitter tempests rise Where never rest is found !

H D ’ ! ard may be uty s hand , but lo it leads

Out into perfect j o y where pain shall cease . G od sees thy striving and thy patience heeds ,

A n d thou shalt ﬁnd His peace .

21 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

PROMISES

O breathing wind of Spring !

Full toned , at every door and window striving , What memories thou dost bring ! H ow Y outh felt at thy touch fresh hopes arriving .

Then when thy voice did seem To prophesy f o r us of rapture distant H alf heard as in a dream ,

V . ague , fascinating , sweet , with sound persistent

S o full of joy that tone ! N o good thing in our future should be wanting ;

From. some fair region blown

Came promises of dim delight enchanting .

W hat says thy voice today , S O wind of pring against the casement striving ,

W th e aving dry vine spray , Greeting the bare brown earth with touch reviving ?

A e What sayest thou to g , ? Wh o spoke to Y outh with such exceeding sweetness T ’ urn thou the Past s dull page , ’ With all its record of life s incompleteness ;

Make ready for release , ’ When unencumbered by earth s weight and sorrow , Thou shalt in power and peace ! Begin again with some clear , glad tomorrow

22 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE UNLUCKY NUMB ER

Out on a ledge in the bright blue se a L a su n y thirteen seals and basked in the , ﬁ sh Below swam the little merrily ,

An . d the seals were breakfasting , every one

Ah su n ! , how warm was the , and bright S oftly the breakers whispering rolled ,

Over their heads sailed the sea gulls white ,

A n d the seaweeds swayed in the water cold .

T o here crept a gunner acr ss the wave , S n ilently rowing his sle der boat ,

He gazed at the company sleek and brave ,

While the gulls above shrieked a warning note .

A —a s puff of vanishing smoke , ﬂa h , A sound that rang till the welkin roared ! D s ! own slipped the company , splash , spla h , splash An d far in the distance the white gulls soare d . A las , on the heaving brine uprose One shining form again to the light ,

One seal had ﬂed to his last repose ,

An d ﬂoating lay in a piteous plight .

Well , said the gunner , stooping to draw Th e limp amphibian on board , ’ Y saw ou re as ﬁne a fellow as ever I ,

But an ancient saying you have ignored .

Y o u ! made thirteen at your table , friend But it wasn ’t possible you should know H ow the wicked Judas came to his end ,

An d cursed the number long years ago .

23 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

COTTON I looked abroad from the rocky height to the vast round ring of the world ; A throng of vessels on the se a their white sails had nu

furled ,

With wide wings glittering in the light , east , west , north ,

south , they ﬂew ; The t s breeze sent each upon i way across the level blue .

Musing , I marked their beauty , and thought of their varied

use , ’ ’ From the sprit - sailed ﬁshers little voyage to the whalers A rctic cruise , ’ From the patient coasters canvas t o the mighty column of White That clothes the great ship proudly to the top of her stately

height .

Four - masted schooners ponderous with acres o f sailcloth

stout , Great fans of yachts spread out to catch all airs that stir about ; S t o uch press of sail from stem to stern , from deck to p

mast tall , They Skyward yearn and hardly seem to touch the earth at

all . Th S S e lateen sails of outhern eas , curved like the pinions light

Of soaring gulls , and then the folds of raiment glowing bright V With which fair enice drapes her masts , with colors rich

and deep ,

T o woo soft A driatic airs that in the stillness sleep . A n d it seemed a wonderful thing to me that all the count less sails 24

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

S ONNET

If Go d speaks anywhere in any voice

T o his us , children , surely here and now b ow We hear him , while the great chords seem to ’ Our heads , and all the symphony s breathless noise Breaks over u s with challenge to our souls ! Beethoven ’s music ! From the mountain peaks

Th e strong , divine , compelling thunder rolls “ ” A n d ! “ Come up higher , come the music speaks , Out of your darkest valleys o f despair Behold I lift you up on mighty wings H ’ Into ope s living , reconciling air ’ Breathe and forget your life s perpetual stings , D — ream , folded on the breast of patience sweet , ” Some glimpse of pitying love f o r you may beat !

ON THE BEA CH

The slow , cool , emerald breakers cruising clear A e long the sparkling edge of l vel sand ,

S its f ar hatters crystal arch , and and near

Its broken splendor spills upon the land .

With rush and whisper , siren sweet and soft O Gently salutes the children f the earth , A n d catches every sunbeam from aloft , Flashes it back in summer mood o f mirth An d with its ﬂood of strong refreshment pours H ealth and delight along the sounding shores . Amid its frolic foam and scattered spray T ’ ossed lightly , like some dreaming lion s mane , Th e tired dwellers of the city play .

26 THE HEA VENL Y G UEST

or etf u l F g for a while of care and pain ,

n o r While peace broods over all , does it seem A s if the s leeping lion could awake ; A n d i s m yet , when past this sweet su mer dream , What roar o f thunder on the coast will break W ’ hen winter s tempests rage in sullen wrath , ° D in eath and disaster their cruel path , An d hurl against the sandy margin gray D ! evouring fury , tumult and dismay

THE HEAVENLY MESSAGE

Beneath the cold , pale , softly sleeping snows T hat load the crowded roofs and touch the spires , ’ W a ith Christm s cheer the city s great heart glows , An d i on ts hearthstones dance the Christmas ﬁres .

H igh over head on airy wings of light , Like some white dove loosed from heaven ’s golden bars ’ God s me ssenger of love in splendor bright

Floats under the keen , frosty , sparkling stars .

” ” R ! s ! ejoice she sings Christ live , O sons of men ’ ’ Tis joy makes sweet the midnight s solemn chime While centuries pass and each swift year again

Brings in the dear and unforgotten time . — Rejoice remembering Him ! But n o t alone — With feast and music ; unto them that need

—so Hi s Give of your cheer , let love be shown

S o shall your Christmas time be blest indeed .

27 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE TROLL AN D TIIS LAKE

A S candinavia n L egend

The T sat little old roll on the hillside , A nd he cried , as he stamped his foot and frowned , A nd his “twisted body this way and that , b e ll s I would that the church all were drowned . For up in the village of Kund there rang

On the morning air a mellow chime , .

But he stopped his ears at the silver clang , An d cursed the sound for the hundredth time .

’ Fu ne n O“ver to I ll go , he said , T hese pious folk are too much for me .

S o away from the village of Kund he ﬂed , ” a For I must h ve quiet and peace , quoth he .

In Funen no church bells vexed his soul ,

f o r But ever Kund did he fret and long , An d ever a mischief wrought in the Troll

To wreak on its people some deadly wrong .

A En on e peasant to nen came day , T From peasant Kund , the roll so grim

In the guise of a Christian stood in his way , “ ? ” An d where do you come from he questioned him .

Th m an . e good answered , From Kund I come “ ” “ ! T From Kund said the roll , well , will you take ? This letter with you when you g o home

But mind that the seal you do n ot break .

A nd when you get t o the churchyard wall

Just toss it over and let it be , Wherever the letter may chance to fall

The owner will come for it presently . 28 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

” ’ es ! Why , y said the peasant , that I ll do . Then into his pocket“the wicked sprite The t le ter thrust , and Good day to you , ” An d T out thanks , said the roll , and was of sight ,

An d out of mind ! For the man forgot

T his Both the roll and message speedily ,

The w as way was long and the day hot ,

A n d into Zealand back came he .

W of eary he grew the dust and heat , S o down by a meadow great and wide H e sat , to rest , while the birds sang sweet ,

A n d the wild ﬂowers blossomed on every side .

Then suddenly into his stupid head “’ he f T thought o the letter ﬂashed , I ll look A ’ t the paper , twill do no harm , he said ,

A n d slow from his pocket the missive took .

He held it and turned it be fore his eyes

o u t o f This way and that , till the seal H e saw with a dumb and dazed surprise

A drop of water begin to steal .

Then while he stared in a mute amaze ,

Another and still another oozed , Then quick as lightning beneath his gaze The letter opened and straightway loosed

A rushing ﬂood on the meadows green , Scarcely the peasant had time t o ﬂee It was a rush for life ! Wh ere the grass had been Sparkled the sheen of a silver se a !

29 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

F or T into the letter the wicked roll , A whole wide lake he had shut and sealed

To i send to Kund , that its water m ght roll Over the church and the bell that pealed ! But still the bell in the steeple swings

In pleasant Kund to this very day . An d still from the spire it sweetly rings t T o call the people o praise and pray .

A n d the Kund folk undisturbed thank G od T T hat the roll his purpose could not ﬁll , A n d as T for the lake , iis lake and broad ,

It lies over the meadow sparkling still .

SON G O delicate west wind blowing S oft over the ﬂowery land , Till thick sweet blossoms are snowing O ’er earth at the touch of thy hand ‘

Go find my love where she lingers ’ Mid fragrant orchard shades ; h er Clasp gently warm white fingers , An ffl d ru e her golden braids .

He r beauty to all beholders Makes summer more rich and bright ; Th e kerchief over her shoulders L ike any blossom is white . 0 what is the day without her !

U its s nmeaning splendor grow .

O west wind , whisper about her My name like the breath of a rose !

30 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

THE CHILD AND THE YEAR

S t o Y aid the Child the youthful ear , What hast thou in store for me

Oh giver of beautiful gifts , what cheer , What joy dost thou bring with thee ?

A n d the Year in the eyes of the child L ooked , bright with the sparkle of frost , A n d s gazing , ighed , and sighing , smiled L ike shadow and sunshine crossed .

All gifts of my seasons four , ’ The winter s snow - locked bliss ’ The ﬂowers of spring and the autumn s store ’ A n d the summer s golden kiss ;

All these and more shall be thine , D ear Child , but the last and best T hyself must earn by a strife divine ,

Wouldst thou be truly blest .

Wouldst know this last best gift ? ’ Tis a conscience clear and bright , A peace of mind which the soul can lift To an inﬁnite delight !

T ruth , patience , courage and love

If thou unto me canst bring , I will set all earth ’s ills above

Oh Child , and crown thee a king .

31 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

MARGARET

S A oftly sweeps the pril storm ,

Floods of rain and breezes warm , D rowsy ﬂowers at last are waking , Through the dark earth gently breaking ° T hough they have not blossomed yet , Here to seek them through the wet

Merrily comes Margaret .

N she othing recks of the ﬂood ,

N o r othing ﬁnds she , ﬂower bud

But she seems herself a ﬂower , In the tumult o f the shower ; Wh ile across the ﬁeld she trips O ’er bright eyes and ruddy lips

Fast the sparkling water slips ,

Gay and daring little witch ! H ow the color , deep and rich , ’ e Mantles in her ch ek s sweet curve . ’ Mark the pretty mouth s reserve , Ah ! , but smiles are hidden there Like a torch her golden hair

Flares above her forehead fair .

Slender shape of pliant grace Crowned with such a lovely face ! N ot a single ﬂower is out , ’ But that s naught to mourn about , She the loveliest blossom is , All abloom with light and bliss Fo r the su n and rain to kiss !

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A THOUG HT OF SPRING

With the whirling and drifting of snows N ew Y Comes breathless the wild ear , While bitter the North wind blows ’ O er the ﬁelds that lie stark and drear .

Y e t Hope is alight in her eyes

A s sh e a looks from the he rt of the storm , ” E she arth sleeps in her shroud , cries , i But the life in her breast s warm .

D eath is but a dream of the night ,

A nd of is the hymn joy begun , For slowly seeking the light

The great globe turns to the sun .

Behold , I will bring delight In place of the darkness and cold S afe under the meadows so white

Is hiding the buttercup gold .

Th e o f - o blush the sweet briar r se , Where is it treasured today ? I will call it from under the snows

T o bloom on its delicate spray .

I will ﬂing all the ﬂowers abroad ; A n d loose in the echoing sky The beautiful birds of G o d

To carol their rapture on high .

34 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

’ A n d the summ er s splendor shall reign ’ In place of the winter s dearth , He r color and music again

Shall gladden the patient earth .

Look but with eyes that are pure t On the gif s in my hand that lie , A n d your portion of bliss is sure

In beauty no wealth can buy .

’ H N e w Y ark to the ear s voice , Through the murk o f the winter drear ;

O children of men , rejoice ,

At the tidings o f hope and cheer .

A LET N R N TO J . PP O B OW

e Poet , whose gold n songs in silence sung T hrill from the canvas to the hearts of men , S weet harmonies that speak without a tongue ,

Melodious numbers writ without a pen ,

The great gods gifted thee , and hold thee dear ,

Placed in thy hand the torch which genius lit , T u o ched thee with genial sunshine and good cheer ,

An d swift heat - lightnings o f a charming wit W so hose shafts are ever harmless , though bright ’ s Gave thee of all life s ble sings this , the best ,

The o f love all thy kind , for thy delight

S o - s be thou happy , Poet painter , ble t ,

Whose gentle eyes look out , all unaware ,

- Beneath the brow of Keats , soft crowned with shadowy

hair .

35 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

BA CK A GAI N

Th e w a s chill snows lingered , the spring late , It seemed a weariful while to wait

For warmth and fragrance and song and ﬂowers , An n d balmy airs a d delicious showers . But we bided our time and with patient eyes

We watched the slowly relenting skies , Till at last one April morning w e woke ’ T o ﬁnd we were free of the winter s yoke ,

A n d a rush o - f wings through the rushing rain Told u s the birds were back again ; A j oyous tumult we heard aloft , Clear rippling music and ﬂuttering soft

S o so i light of heart and l ght of wing , All hope of summer , delight of spring

T t o hey seemed utter with voices sweet ,

Upborne on their airy pinions ﬂeet .

D ! ainty , delicate , lovely things

Would that my thoughts , like you , had wings ,

T o match your grace , your charm , your cheer Y our ﬁne melodious a tmosphere !

Go d Precious and beautiful gifts of , S ’ cattered thro heaven and earth abroad ,

Who , ungrateful , would do you wrong , Check your ﬂight and your golden song ?

36 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

0 ! O friendly spirits , sweet , sweet birds Would I could put my welcome in words Fit f o r such singers as you to hear Sky born minstrels and poets dear !

EVEN TH OU A . E T little child shall lead them ven hou , O Christ adored ! Behold the lowly place

Where the star - beckoned shepherds came to bow Before the glory of Hi s infant face !

Ah ! so happy Mary at thy breast , near ’ ’ To hold the world s great hope , heaven s holy king . Ah happy shepherds , chosen ﬁrst to hear The tidings beautiful that angels sing !

The humble and the poor H e came to teach

Th e ff H e sinful and the su ering would save , N o human soul can sink beyond Hi s reach ;

He e Hi H e s . rescu s all , for all life gave “ L — et H H is . not your hearts be troubled , ear voice ‘ Keep my comm andments and be loved of me ! ”

O lift your heavy hearts up and rejoice , “ ”

e H e . I will not leav you comfortless , saith

D n u s ! ivine compassion , se t to help all

n ! Inﬁnite mercy , love that k ows no end T ’ hou who art never deaf to sorrow s call , T H ! Make light our darkness , oh hou eavenly Friend

H e H e u s breaks the bonds of death , sets free , ! Obey H im ! there can be no joy so sweet Hi H s hand e stretches forth to you and me , Y e a L u s Th ! , lead us , ord , and bring to y feet

37 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE CROWN OF THE Y EAR

In sapphire , emerald , amethyst , Sparkles the sea by the morning ki ssed ;

An d the mists from the far - off valleys lie Gleaming like pearl in the tender S ky ; S oft shapes of cloud that melt and drift

With tints of opal that glow and shift . For the strong wind blows from the warm southwest ’ A n d rufﬂes the snow on the white gull s breast Fills all the sails till the boats careen ; Low n over the crested waves they lea , D riven to leeward , dashed with spray ,

Or beating up through the beautiful bay .

Ah a m o f , h ppy orning autumn sweet , ’ Y et ripe and rich with the summer s heat !

By the ruined wall on the rocky height ,

In shadow I gaze at the changing light ,

Splendor of color that clothes thee round ,

Huge orb o f the earth to its utmost bound . N ear me each humble ﬂower and weed , ’ The m dock s rich u ber , gone to seed , ’ ’ The hawkbit s gold , the bayberry s spice , One late wild rose beyond all price ; E ach is a friend and all are dear ,

Pathetic signs of the waning year .

The a ! painted rose h ws , how they glow L ike crimson wine the woodbines Show , ’ The wholesome yarrow s clusters ﬁne Like frosted silver dimly shine ; An d who thy quaintest charm shall tell Thou little scarlet pimpernel ?

38 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

Th e se a jeweled and the deeps of the air , All heaven and earth are good and fair , ’ Ferns at my feet and the mullein s spike , A n d the soaring gull I love alike ; ’ With the schooner s grace as she leans to the tide h is T e soul within me satisﬁed .

In the mellow , golden autumn days

W is hen the world zoned in their purple haze , A sp 1 r 1 t of beauty walks abroad That ﬁlls the heart with peace of G o d ; The spring and summer may bless and cheer , ’ u s But autumn brings the crown o the year .

HEAVENLY HEIGHTS

0 E ! happy , holy aster morn What promise lights thy radiant sky !

E - arth hails again her hope new born , n A d death is lost in victory .

From heavenly heights a glory streams , Backward the mists of doubt are hurled Sorrow and sin are baseless dreams

A morning freshness holds the world . O promise sweet ! O lovely light !

O life that shall begin again ,

As spotless as the lilies white , ! Perfect and fair , without a stain

L Him ook up to whose love is sure , ’ An d with the new day s blossoming

Become as little children pure , ’

S . In God s divine , immortal pring

39 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

IN FREDERICKSBURG

’ In Fredericksburg , when all the troubled town With war ’s dread signs and wounded men was ﬁlled A n d death among the crowd moved up and down , ’ An d many a soldier s torture touched and stilled ,

One , on whose heart such love and pity Weighed

For those brave men as could not be expressed , Where the S outh ’s rich red roses stood arrayed

In lavish beauty , made his tender quest .

A n d gathering wealth of blossoms , sought the rooms W here vainly feverish anguish wooed repose , Passed soft from couch to couch with those fair blooms n d A upon every pillow laid a rose .

T hey lifted up their saddened , grateful eyes An d blessed him with a look , who could not speak S ome murmured thanks who never more might rise , n d A begged him lay it nearer lip and cheek .

The its sweet red rose , that they might feel breath ,

Filling the gloom and silence chill and drear , A n d in the presence dread of pain and death Y e t knew that dear familiar beauty near .

A n d so hi s he passed , and left along way

Feeling that bafﬂes thought and tongue and pen , A o ﬂutter of pathetic j y, a ray

From the near heaven on those devoted men .

THE HEA VENLY G UES T

Af t , in a corner , sheltered from the glare ,

Tw o sat travellers quietly and close ,

- x One sunny haired and e quisitely fair , W ith cheek as delicate as some fresh rose .

The crowd , the place , the planet might have been Obliterated for that charming bride ! Under her parasol ’s dark silken screen

x Si feet of manliness sat by her side .

Just so much measured her enchanted world ! He r whole horizon , it was plain to see . With one gloved hand his blond moustache he curled

An t d forward leaned o whisper tenderly . Their elegance and most distinguished grace

My swift glance caught , swept heedlessly that way ,

A s sk t o wave and y me , they held their place ,

Part of the pageant of the perfect day .

Mediterranean splendors ! What t o her

Were matchless color and consummate form , V esuvius or Capri , or the stir Of jewelled waves or breezes soft and warm ?

The lovely island near and nearer drew , Vesuvius ’ dusky plume lay thin and light

Behind us , dreaming in the lofty blue , N aples along the coast line glittered white .

Ah ! , how divinely beautiful I thought , An d gazing round me with delighted eyes , Again they chanced across the two and caught

A sudden dazzling gleam o f Paradise .

42 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

’ ' T saw lif t t o was but a look I her him , S — wift , furtive , but glory of the earth it s Before tempered radiance faded dim , ’ Th e wide world s beauty seemed as nothing worth

Compared to this strong , sweet and wondrous dream . T his hint of heaven , this potent spell , This deep bewilderment of bliss supreme N o mind can fathom and no tongue can tell , A ! ’T las was long ago , I wonder where

U s T has nre ting ime borne them since that day , The handsome lover and the lady fair . Measureless spaces from that dream away !

N s But ature keeps her youth , still Capri lie

Melting in sapphire , rose and amethyst ,

The air breathes soft , clear smile the tender skies ,

An d o the bright c ast by sparkling waves is kissed . HARK

H ’ ark , the sweet chant , O holy , holy , holy , i With vo ces clear the waiting angels sing , Standing about the mother meek and lowly ’ Whose calm breast pillows soft heaven s new born king .

L oud swells the chorus , Pain is lost in glory .

Y e His . nations of the earth , exalt name S ound , golden pipes , and tell the wondrous story ’ Of love divine that to man s rescue came .

Lo He , shall vanquish death with cheer immortal ,

S sin hall conquer woe and triumph over ,

His hand shall open wide the heavenly portal , ’ ‘ That al l God s souls may safely enter in .

43 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

KATE VANNAH

e In wint r , when the world was locked in frost ,

I built up fancies sweet , a little song ,

With after - glow from vanished summ ers crossed An d , listening, heard the bitter wind blow strong

The while I fashioned , with a hand untaught , The airy shape , and lifted toward the light Its thought of youth and j oy—I only sought T o make the dreary winter day more bright .

But when the sno -w s had ﬂed into the north

Before the south wind , and the gracious year

its o Brought all ﬂ wers and all its splendors forth ,

A n d its w as midsummer in all pomp here , One came and looked upon the trellis slight

Of words I wrote in that sad winter time ,

A n d clothed the slender shape with life and light ,

A n d ﬁtted music to my idle rhyme .

n of An d ow a wealth ﬂowers that shape upholds ,

That ring sweet bells and up to heaven climb ,

its A n d beauty all poverty enfolds ,

A treasure of eternal summ ertime .

n ot t o It is worthy thus be made fair ,

S o woven about by loveliness and grace ,

S o touched to blossom by enchanted air ,

S o clothed with splendor in its humble place .

so I clasp the hand that worked a spell ﬁne ,

An d t o the brain that delicately wrought ,

Bring homage , joyful any work of mine

Should be ennobled by such lofty thought .

44 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

AWAKENING

—I is t o o Well said , it all true

The t o story told my childish ears , That tears were many and joys were few

A n d hopeless the weight of gathering years .

I never believed a word of the tale ,

A n d t o su n turned the and rejoiced in the day , But a blow struck home and the ligh t grew pale

Till bitter darkness beset the way .

is ? — Oh , what it all (I pondered ) what This terrible life wherein we are se t D ? efenceless , whether we will or not Where the swift years weave u s a golden net

so so Of j oys sweet and of hopes bright ,

u s Only to rob day by day , S ‘ lowly to take from the eyes their sight , S ’ teal all the body s senses away ,

And deal to the soul such blows of loss T D — hrough the hand of eath and there I ceased ,

t o o For a wave bitter rolled across , A n d a longing never to be appeased

S hook me with sorrow beyond all thought .

Outside I heard the spring wind sigh , As if the paths of life it caught , A n d strove to utter it , wandering by ,

45 THE HEA VENL Y G UEST

W e hen in a moment , the door swung wid , Sunshine and ﬂowers and songs of birds S wept in with you like a golden tide , S t weetness and rapture o o deep for words .

0 L t o ove , you brought me youth and spring , T ook me by storm with glad surprise , An d set my whole soul worshipping, An d saved my life with the look in your eyes !

A n d t o while you are left me , no more Can my heart be dull as a sensel ess clod ° Wh so ile you hold me fast with those eyes sure ,

Humbly I reach for the hand of Go d .

TO LAURENCE HUTTON

On his ﬁftieth birthday

’ The b est of canny Scotland s blood

Makes merry in his veins , — — A glowing tide a tranquil ﬂ o o d

That all her wit contains .

The noblest gifts that mark the race he S gave him at his birth . An d wrote upon his ge nial face

He n r sign a d seal of worth .

’ An d so the world s applause is loud n A d clear the voice o f Fame . What wonder that his friends are proud Of Laurence Hutton ’s name !

46 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE WATER - LILY

U p from the placid river ,

One summer morning bright ,

his Came a merry boy to mother ,

- With a water lily white .

S as weet a breath of heaven , Whiter than drifted snow ;

The s fre hest , holiest ﬂower

Among all ﬂowers that blow .

A n d o n she her breast laid it ,

so Wondering , it was fair Up rose the pure rich perfume L ike an embodied prayer .

The boy forgot the ﬂower ; And , later , from his play R eturning , warm and rosy ,

Called his mother loud and gay .

An d when she answered softly , ‘ An d her quiet work forsook , H e paused an d gazed upon her

With an unaccustomed look .

An d over the delicate lily H e bowed his lovely head ; Then lifted his face and kissed her

With lips like strawberries red .

An d said , with his young face shining Clear as a morning star ; S weet is the lily , mother ,

But your kiss is sweeter far .

47 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

IN THE VALLEY

Th e trees stood up in stillness

T w as here no Wind to sigh , Like warm tears fell the sudden rain

sk Out of the morning y,

Then ceased ; and the autumn quiet Was broken by no sound , A s the last gold leaves o f th e maple

Fell wavering to the ground .

Then the waking world blushed softly

With tender tints of rose , An d I heard from the far , wild mountains The clamoring of the crows .

A n d h o w I knew , high in the heavens ’

- O er the forest tops and the rocks ,

‘ They wheeled in the f u rthe st di st an ce T heir ragged and dusky ﬂocks .

T heir faint and broken clamor ,

T sk hat rang through the cloudy y , S eemed calling me out of the quiet ,

With harsh , imperious cry .

’ A s if from the world s dull tumult

e Of hurry and strif and wrong,

Beyond the protecting mountains ,

s A summons sounded trong .

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A SERMON

H e that hat h so m a n re aso ns o r o . is e r m y f j y . v y uch i l ov e ith so rro n ishn ess h oses ll n w w a d e e v w o l a . . and p , ch o ose s to sit do w n o n his littl e han d ul tho rns f of . J ere my Tayl o r Is it worth the while to frown and fret A n d waste the hours in vain regret , A n d every pleasant thing f orget ? An d only pain remember To e mourn because the ski s are wet ,

Because the dull clouds hold a threat , Because the sun so soon must se t In dark and drear December ?

’

Wh - y, summer s buds are but asleep , W rapt in their dreaming soft and deep ,

T e e heir beauty folded close th y ke p ,

To send abroad in gladness , W hen from the earth the storms shall sweep , An d bitter vapors cease to weep ,

An d t o life again light shall leap , E ’ scaped from winter s sadness .

? ? Has love passed by A re friends grown cold ? D o precious things slip from your hold A n d do yo u shrink from growing old While many cares perplex you ? Y et will there be some heart of gold T n ot hat fails you , fond hands to fold Y our own in faith and trust untold Let not your losses vex yo u

50 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

What matter if dark locks grow grey ? L o , Peace upon your head shall lay He r heavenly hand , the skies of May Shall light your inner vision Look up ! Look up ! for every day S ome blessing brightens on your way , ’ A LL t o ccept God s WI , learn obey , A n d sweet will grow submission .

CHRISTMAS EVE

T o f hrough the wide darkness the night , ’ From heaven s golden bars , W V hat ision ﬂoats serenely bright , ’Neath the keen sparkling stars ?

W e ? hence comes this swe t , immortal cheer ? Wh o brings the holy Sign

O Sleeping city , wake and hear

The messenger divine .

’ Tis Ev e Christmas , with outspread wings ’ God s angel ﬂoats above , To all the waiting earth she brings ‘ The blessing of His love .

Bearing a torch to kindle high ’ Joy s ﬁres on Christmas morn , While all the choirs of heaven shall cry “ ” r Rejoice ! f o Christ is born .

51 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

AND HIS WILL IS OUR PEACE

(E l a. sha v o l o n ta te e n ostra p ac e ) D — — ante par . III 85

of O restless soul man , unsatisﬁed W ’ With the orld s empty noise and feverish glare ,

S its ick with hopes of happiness denied ,

The its dust and ashes of promise fair ,

fﬂ f Ba ed and bu feted , thy days perplexed ,

Th r o ﬁtl e ss y cherished treasures p and vain ,

What comfort hast thou , captive , thwarted , vexed , ? Mocke d by mirage o f j oys that merge in pain

T Lo . D l hough ve be sweet yet eath is strong , and stil

Inexorable Change will follow thee ,

Y e a — , though thou vanquish every mortal ill Thou shalt not conquer Mutability !

The human tide goes rushing down to death , Turn thou a moment from its current broad A n d listen , what is this that silence saith , ? “ ” S Go d ! O oul Be still , and know that I am

The G od ! H mighty ere shalt thou ﬁnd thy rest , ! T O weary one here is naught else to know , N — aught else to seek , here thou mayest cease thy quest ;

H e o . Give thyself up , leads where thou shalt g

The changeless G o d ! Into thy troubled life S teals strange , sweet peace ; the pride that drove thee on Th e hot ambition and the selﬁsh strife T hat made thy misery , like mist are gone ,

52 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

An d in their place , a bliss beyond all speech , The patient resignation of the will T hat lifts thee out of bondage , out of reach

Of death and change , above all earthly ill .

FROM A CORNER

In the dusk of the winter evening The curtains are drawn , and the light

Burns clear , and the brightness and comfort D efy the dark , boisterous night .

’ At in the long room s end , the corner S ’ its one with an artist s eyes , Watching the changing pictures

That ever before her rise .

At the piano together Father and daughter begin A sudden tumult of musi c ; An d the tones of the Vi olin Pierce with a wonderful sweetness

The the air of quiet room , Till beautiful thoughts and fancies

Break into delicate bloom .

W ith loose , rich locks of silver , S tately the father stands , Like the statues which Michelangelo Carved with his skilful hands ;

53 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A n d the daughter is touched with the tropics ,

Inheriting warmth and power , Brilliant and glowing in color

- ﬂ o e r A s a fresh pomegranate w .

They play together ! the father O ver her head looks down , A n d gathers his smooth white forehead Into a splendid frown

That yields to a smile at the voices

A s of spirits to heaven akin , H e calls with caressing gesture

V From the exquisite iolin .

Ah ! , but the charming picture His outlines grave and grand ;

He r e Simpl , sweet , frank presence ’ With youth s bright rainbow spanned ;

His mystic and marble pallor ;

H e r midnight eyes , and her smile That dazzles like sunshine at noonday Flashed over the river Nile

Th e ancient Nile ! Fo r behold her ! H o w full of tokens and hints Of a beauty oriental In wonderful tones and tints ! THE HEA VENLY G UES T

A n d the power of the East i s in her

- ﬂ r The bright pomegranate o w e . Thus muses our friend in the corner

Enjoying the lovely hour .

T - here comes a ring at the door bell . A sound of trouble and ill The sparkling piano ceases An d the V iolin i s still °

An d turns the stately maestro Like a lion about t o growl A n d welcomes the dull newcomer With such a magniﬁcent scowl

- - Good evening , neighbor . Good evening . ’ ”

Ti es . s a bitter night . Oh y ” I think it will snow tomorrow . ! What echoes o f emptiness

? A n d how is your inﬂuenza A n d , pray , have you heard the news ,

H o w S mith is dead , and his nephew ? ” Steps into his wealthy Shoes

The gods take ﬂight to Olympus , A n d the matchless charm that thrilled The air with a rich enchantment ,

Like a rose by frost is killed .

55 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

TO PASTURE

’ T o f here s a touch frost in the crisp , fresh air , A n d the trees and “hedges are growing bare , A n d A i s n ow utumn says , It my turn , s sh A e strips the leaves from the patient bough .

A ll in the bright morning comes little Justine , t With the pret iest bossy that ever was seen . ’ so so But though he s sleek and handsome a calf ,

He . has too much will of his own , by half

An d he does not like t o be led away ’ his From mother s side in the early day , ’ so Where the little maid s feet lightly go , He veers about and he trots so slow !

’ He d say , if only the power had he , “ ’ ? Justine , why couldn t you let me be ’ o I d rather g back at once , if you please ,

T o yonder barn by the poplar trees .

O milk is good and clover is tough , ’ An d I haven t begun to have breakfast enough , An d I know the meadow you take me to ‘9 9 Is cold and wet with the frosty de w . But lit“tle Justine with a merry laugh H ! Cries , urry , my beautiful bossy calf Y o u will have nothing to do all day

But t o sleep and to eat and t o frisk and to play .

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

LISEL

When the summer morning broke ,

Faintly ﬂushing in the sky . H L appy little isel woke ,

Rose to greet it joyfully .

In the dewy hush she heard Far and near a music sweet

the From throat of many a bird , H ’ eard her little kid s low bleat ,

H his astened forth and sought shed , L his oosed him , frisking in mirth , While the glory overhead

Bathed in beauty heaven and earth .

H eavy lay the morning dew ,

Cool and soft the morning mist , High above them in the blue

Roses all the cloud ﬂocks kissed .

Little kid so lightly pranced ! Little maid so patiently Le d him while he leaped and danced ! ” “ W she ait , said , now quiet be ,

Wh ile your stake into the ground

Firm I push to hold you , dear , D ’ on t go skipping round and round , W ’ ? ” ait , my pretty , don t you hear

58 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

H ! appy , happy summer dawn Happy kid and happy child ! Far from the world ’s din withdrawn In the mountain pasture wild !

Freedom , innocence and health S imple duties , quiet bliss ,

In their lowly life such wealth ,

Kings might envy peace like this .

WHAT CHEER ?

o u What news , what comfort do y bring , S a sa y, gossip , y ,

A s ou y come back on tired wing , ? ” Adown the airy w ay

S o high above the trees I ﬂew H ! igh , gossips , high

saw I a little rift of blue , ” A lovely glimpse of sky .

And is it true that storms will cease T ? ” “rue , gossip , true O yes , the winds will be at peace , ” The sun will shine o n yo u !

S o chirp and chatter , sweet and gay , ! Pipe , gossips , call

e wa Fast com s the happy spring this y, Brave gossips all !

59 THE HEA VEN L Y G UES T

A VIOLET

I know a pair of clear gray eyes , A n d sweet they are , and calm and wise .

A n d t when their s ill gaze rests on me , The sky o f dawn I seem to se e ;

Th e sk y of dawn , without a bar

Of mist to dim the morning star .

A n d spring winds softly seem to blow , ’ A n d stir the crocus neath the snow !

A n d breathing sweeter , warmer yet , They call the ﬁrst shy violet ;

A n d 10 ! within my hand it lies A fresh and beautiful surprise ,

’ God s gift , more precious and more dear

Than all the ﬂowers that crown the year .

The soul that looks from those dark eyes ,

S o e so brav and true , pure and wise ,

Go d keep it while the years endure ,

Forever sweet , forever pure .

A bove all mists and vapors far ,

Uplifted like the morning star .

A dauntless , deathless splendor , bright n e w ! With truth , and clear to all sight

60 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

IN SWITZERLAND

On the dark dull day , through Zurich town , t Glided the train from the sta ion out , The while from the windows , up and down , A n eager traveller peered about .

Re d- wi tiled roofs th their gables quaint ,

Misty mountains all dim and gray , ’ Glimpse of the lake s rare color faint ,

a Came and went s it crept away .

U nder the eaves , at a casement queer ,

S w as wung out like a door , a pleasant sight , A t S lit le wiss maiden , fair and dear ,

Was scrubbing the small panes clean and bright .

w as she O but a sweet , dear child ,

L o ld - ! ittle fashioned , charming maid ’ ’ He r b l o n de as o hair , just her m ther s might be

Coiled high up in a golden braid .

A n d she with what purpose and cheer scrubbed , T urning the window this way and that , se e Pushing it backward and forward to ,

A s perched on the low broad sill she sat .

L she a s ittle knew with such a will , She toiled away with her cheerful might

H o w on e admired her homely skill , A n d her pretty self a s sh e passed from sight !

6 1 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

N o w when I remember quaint Zurich town , T here comes like a picture before my eyes ,

With her yellow hair and her homespun gown ,

That little maid and her labor wise .

An d I think she will so clean and clear The window whence her soul must se e L ’ ife s various shadow and shine appear ,

A n d watch with patience what there may be .

For if only the glass of the mind is clean , Then brighter the su n and lighter the shade ! S b orrows less itter , joys more serene ,

By the cheerful spirit are surely made .

CHR ISTMA S

Carol sweet and carol clear , ’ Tis the day that crowns the year ! Up t o Thee our hearts we raise ; S ongs of joy and songs of praise On the quiet air we pour ; H ! ear , O Christ , whom we adore T ’ ’ hou , God s spirit and God s gift ,

Up to Thee our love we lift . Happy day and holy hour ’ When man s hope broke into flower . ’ When God s promise was fulfilled , D oubts were cancelled , fears were stilled , When the Word Incarnate came ! Clothed in music , winged with flame

Carol Sweet and carol clear , ’ Tis the day that crowns the year !

62 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

SEAS I DE FLOWERS

A long the brim of the curving cove the small blue skull

cap sits ,

Where the grey beach bird , with happy cry , in safety feeds and ﬂits An d spreads or shuts the pimpernel its drowsy buds to tell W im er hen rain will come , or skies will clear , the pretty p p nel ! An d the pink herb ro b e rt all the day holds up its rosy

ﬂowers , While high above with a purple plume the lofty thistle

towers , A n d the golden potentilla blows , and the crow foot laughs

su n in the , And over rock and bush and turf wild morning glories

run . ’ T o ut hey look down o er the tiny cove , to the blue , blue

sea , N r f eighbo s and riends , all beautiful , a j oyful company ; An d when the tide comes brimming in with soft and gentle rush ” t o H ! It is as if the murmuring sound said the silence , ush Al l down the narrow beach the lilac mussel shells are strown

Among the scattered pebbles , and by the polished stone ’ Where the sea s hands have worn the ledge till smo oth as ivory t o O such a place on summer days put your cheek , and lie Listening to all the whispering waves that round the point g o by !

63 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

For the su n h as warmed the hard cold rock till it almost

human seems , ’ A n d such a pillow as it makes for Childhood s blissful dreams ! The ! T little glad , caressing waves hey bring their treasures gay T o e t h e d ck lovely quiet beach , nor fail day after day To strew the slope with crimson dulse and Olive seaweed

sprays ,

A n d - lace like empty urchin shells , all rough with dull

green rays , ’ The limpet s hollow , mottled house , and amber snail shells

bright , A n d brown and shining rufﬂed kelps and cockles , snowy

white .

! t o O such a happy , happy world Were I talk all day , N ot half the joy of that sweet spot could I begin to sa y ! A n d all the charming band of ﬂowers that watch the se a

sk and y, They seem to kn ow and love the winds th at gently pass them by ! They seem t o feel the freshness of the w aves a t every tide A s they cross the quiet water that sparkles far and wide .

Th e o bright sails g and come at will , the white gulls ﬂoat

in air , The song sparrow and sandpiper are ﬂitting everywhere , But the dark blue skull cap never sighs to leave its pleasant

home ,

- With butterﬂy , or thistle down , or sandpiper to roam

Th herb ro b e rt su n e pink nestles close , content in or rain , N o r envies the white far sails that glide across the ocean plain ; The golden potentilla sees the soaring gull on high

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A n d my horizon gathers gloom and frowns

With folded clouds that blacken the bright day , H ’ eavy with tears , and the Wind s wailing drowns In H speechless sorrow all that ope can say .

A n d yet a smile through the despairing mood

Breaks , half in mockery , half in wholesome cheer ;

S the hall one storm spoil world , wreck all the good , ? A n d ﬂood thy little life with doubt and fear

Th so y little ﬂeeting life , soon at end

Upon this swinging star ! Thy breathing - space ’ — This side death s awful g ate z and wilt thou spend In quarrelling with fate thy priceless days ?

N o t s s a d o . so , heart , be not base Behold , There is no storm time may not smooth away ; T here is no night of darkness dead and cold ,

T re tu rn l hat may not brighten with ng day .

Go d sends his tempests wrestling round the world T hat health may follow , and thy little life ’ sk Owns the same land , though thy soul s y is whirled ’ Mid clouds and all the elemen ts o f strife .

’ ? f e a r st E What thou arthquake , ﬁre , ﬂood , hurricane ,

May not destroy thee . T o thy striving soul God ’s endless opportunities remain i s When wrath spent and thunders cease to roll .

Let set their ignoble sighing end , and Th T y feet ﬁrm on the ruth , and keep thou calm . At last shall pass the trouble and the fret , A n d peaceful days shall follow , breathing balm .

66 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

TURN HOME A GA IN

What dost thou , little ﬁshing boat , From the green ﬂowery coast remote ?

A the s sun down we t the sinks fast , It lights thy sail and slender mast The —O ! day declines , , haste thee home A gainst the rocks the breakers foam .

Under the measureless blue sky Eastward the vast se a spaces lie ; Wide scattered sails upon the tide D ’ ’ own o er the world s great shoulder glide , Or silent climb the trackless waste ! But little ﬁsher boat , make haste

v O er , the white gulls soar high and scream , S oft clouds meet in a golden dream , Bleached rocks and turfy valleys lie S teeped in a bright tranquillity ,

But autumn wanes , and well I know H ow wild the hurricane may blow !

Before thee li es the lonely coast .

Beckons , and like a friendly ghost , The lighthouse signals thee ; afar it I see s gleaming silver star ,

Where the sun smites its glittering pane , ! O , little skiff , glide home again S omewhere along the land ’s fair line A light of love for thee will shine

resentl the , When p y v shadows fall An d eyes to which thy gleam is all

Of good the round world holds , will gaze Out o ’er the darkening ocean ways THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

To seek thee ! then pray hasten home ! Here swings the breaker into foam The waning moon breeds many a gale , T urn then , and gladden with thy sail The fai thful eyes that long for thee ; The heart that fears the treacherous sea . RIGHT AND WRONG L ! isten listen , how the birds are singing , Little children dear ! Through the morning air their joy is ringing ;

S ee the bluebird to the elm - twig clinging ! All his sweetest songs abroad he ’s ﬂinging !

Beautiful and clear .

L ! oh ook , look , how fast the ﬂowers are growing , Every child to please ! V iolets soon their blue eyes will be showing , D ’ andelions golden stars be glowing ,

Clouds of fragrant , rosy blossoms snowing

- From the apple trees . What can mar this happiness of ours ? L ! ittle children , say Wh at can steal the color from the ﬂowers ,

Du an d ll their scent chill the summer showers , ’ S rob poil the bird s note , the golden hours , Dim the radiant day ?

Right and wrong are in the world before us ;

Wrong alone can harm . ’ u s Wrong can darken all the bright sky o er , ’ Break with discords harsh the birds sweet chorus ;

R t o u s ight alone perfect joy restore , ’ Sheltered in God s arm .

68 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

ENTREATY

D ear little bird the snowflakes whirl about you , The bare tw I g where you cling blows up and down ; A n d h o w the cold wild wind does toss and flout you , A n d ruffle all your fea thers soft and brown ! Ah , do come in and stay till storms are ended , ’ D ! so ou ear little bird I ll be good to y , T ’ here s such a fire burning bright and splendid , A n d here it is so warm and quiet t o o .

S e e , on the steps I scatter crumbs , come nearer , ’ D o ! D , pretty creature on t be frightened , pray ; For all the little birds to me are dearer T ’ so . han I could tell you , don t ﬂy away

so I am sorry that the tempest caught you ,

W o u so ! hen y came back brave , to tell of spring Did o u o u y forget how last year March winds fought y , ? Or did you come , in spite of them , to sing

o u If you would only let me feed and warm y , ’ I d be so gentle ! Y our poor claws should cling

R ﬁ n e r—I ound such a warm , kind g would charm you ! With such a soft caress , dear shivering thing O won ’t you come ? I ’m afraid you ’ll perish ’ The as dark comes , and tis wild it can be ; If you could understand how I would cherish ’

A n d . comfort you , I know you d ﬂy to me

A n d su n then tomorrow , if the shone , gladly ’ I ll throw the window wide and se t you free . ? Y o u dare not come Goodnight then , dear , and sadly

h as . I shu t t e door , sorry I can be

69 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A SONG OF SPRING ” S S e ing a song of pring, cri d the merry March wind loud A s it swept to the earth from the dark breast of the cloud , But the win dﬂ o we rs and the V iolets were yet too sound asleep U ’ “nder the snow s white blanket , close folded soft and deep . S S A ing a song of pring , cried the pleasant pril rain ,

s With a thousand parkling tones upon the window pane , An d the ﬂowers hidden in the ground woke dreamily and

stirred ,

t o From root root , from seed to seed , crept swift the happy

word .

S o f S ing a song pring , cried the sunshine of the May , An d the whole world into blossom burst in o ne delightful

day , The patient apple trees blushed bright in clouds o f rosy

red , A n d the dear birds sang with rapture in the blue sky over

head . ’ A nd not a single ﬂower small that A pril s raindrops woke . An d not a single little bird that into music broke , i its But did rejoice to live and grow and str ve to do best , ’ Faithful and dutiful and brave through every trials test .

I wonder if w e children all are ready as the ﬂowers To do what G od appoints for us through all His days and

hours , Hi To praise m in our duties done with faithful joy , because

The sm allest of those duties belong to His great laws . “ ’ ” “ ” V wh o sa ! ! O iolets , never fret and y , I won t I will

t His t o Wh o only live o do your best wishes fulﬁll , Teach us your sweet obedience that we may grow to be

H as . appy like you , and patient the steadfast apple tree

0 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

TO A CHILD WITH EASTER LILIES

Child , with the lily branch so white , H eld aloft in a rosy hand , S is oft the path to thy footfalls light , ’ L k o e r ovely the s y thy morning land .

Thou gaz est into the perfumed snow A n d the golden heart of the wondrous ﬂower ,

A n d o f while the breezes morning blow , T hou canst not dream of a darker hour . Ah , beloved , when by and by , ’ N h ot w a oon burns o er the dusty y, A n d the wind that sang can only sigh ,

When the rose of dawn turns ashes - gray ; f While through shadows thy ootsteps grope , e If then thy lilies do but k ep , T heir beauty shall bring thee strength and hope ,

Rest and refreshment glad and deep .

A n d thou shalt know how fair a gift A re the pure white fragrant ﬂowers of God ; T heir perfume shall thy heart uplift , A n d lead thee back where thy childhood trod ;

Till thou shalt se e with self - same eyes

l a o Of the happy baby of ong g , Th e shining meadows of Paradise

Before thee blossom and smile and glow .

An d o ﬁnd thy peace , thy j y , thy faith , A sunny calm after weary strife , While the radiant angel whose name is Death

Leads thee safe into endless life . THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

THE GREEN LEAVES WHIS PER LOW

The wind - harp sings in the e asem en t wide A ﬁ tf u l song that is sad and slow ,

While the summer sunset burns outside , A n d the green leaves whisper low .

A fair head leans on a lily hand ’ An d clear eyes study the sky s red glow ’ The loveliest lady s in all the land

While the green leaves whisper low .

- O wind harp , listen , and cease to grieve ;

° O warm south wind , less wildly blow the For my lover rides through golden eve , ' l ” While the green leaves whisper ow .

A m step , a cry , and the dusky roo A splendor swift seems to overﬂow ; A glory lights the enchanted gloom ,

While the green leaves whisper l o w .

H e brings the dawn in his happy eyes ;

Y et - sad grieve , O Wind harp , and slow

Grieve , for the matchless moment ﬂies ,

While the green leaves whisper low .

T ’ omorrow , choked by the battle s breath , A new embrace shall her lover know

N ot the kiss of love , but the kiss of death

While the green leaves whisper low .

THE HEA VENLY G UEST

IN DARKNESS

Cold sail , against the evening gray ’ Departing down the world s dim slope ; ’ seem st Pale ghost , thou to bear away

My every joy , my every hope . What thoughts are these ? What pallid brood Of phantoms from the past emerge ?

so Is this the world that seemed good , ? Brimming with joy from verge t o verge

Was morning only fair t o mock

The bitterness of after years , Wh ile Fate w as waiting to unlock ? The unsuspected fount of tears

Cold the gray sky and cold the sail That fades into the distance cold ;

Th e level sea lies cold and pale ,

A n d sorrow as the world is old .

Y e a as is . , sorrow the world old

10 But , along the sullen gloom Steal broken gleams o f ruddy gold

That f ar the pathl e ss waste illume .

’ Jove s planet up the darkness swings .

Oh , happy light from heaven that pours A cross the bitter brine , and brings A glimmer to the hopeless shores ,

T . ouch me , and let me climb by thee That I may ﬁnd above the pain Of these dark hours my peace and see My heights of heavenly joy again !

74 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

THE ONLY FOE

sk se a Wild , threatening y , white , raging ,

Fierce wind that rends the rifted cloud , S ’ ets the new moon s sharp glitter free , An d ! thunders eastward , roaring loud

A fury rides the autumn blast , The hoary brine i s torn and tossed ; Great Nature through her spaces vast

Casts her keen javelins of the frost .

Her hand that in the summer days S oothed us with tender touch of joy , Deals death upon her wintry ways ; W a hom she c ressed she would destroy .

Life shrinks and hides ; all creatures cower

are While her tremendous bolts hurled , T hat strike with blind , insensate power Th e f h mighty shoulder o t e world .

Be still , my soul , thou hast no part ‘ In her black moods of hate and fear ; L ifted above her wrath thou art ,

On thy still heights , serene and clear . R — emember this , not all the wild , H uge , untamed elements have force

To reach thee , though the seas were piled

In weltering mountains on thy course .

m Only thyself thyself can har . n ot ! An d Forget it , full of peace ,

A - s if the south wind whispered warm ,

Wait thou till storm and tumult cease .

75 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A MORNING VIS ION

D own the deserted road to take the train , T ’ hat roaring sped toward the far city s din ,

I went at early morn . There had been rain The night before , and very wan and thin Th e s la t snow streaked the pastures left and right ,

A nd sad all the landscape lay in colors , Save where the keen blue river ﬂashed in sight

Beneath the clear March sunshine , broad and glad . But Nature ’s steady pulse was beating strong ’ S Y e t With the pring s mighty impulse . a space , ’ An d the year s splendid youth , with bloom and song ,

Would ﬁll with joy and beauty all the place . An d , pondering on the happy future , slow

I kept my way , rej oicing in the hope

l o ! Beneath the surface sadness cold , when A ﬁgure came to meet me up the slope , S S eemed the incarnate spirit of the pring , ’ With all the Summer s promise in her face .

A - - - slender , gray cloaked school girl , traveling

Up the dull road with step of power and grace . The r torrent of her b own , abundant hair T ossed loose about her ; the wild wind of March , L ifting it lightly , blew it high in air ,

L - ike some soft , glorious , golden crested arch ’ Of cloudy billow wavering o er her head , ’ T t se e ! Shimmering in sunshine . was a sight o

sh e sh e One of the books carried still read ,

- Conning her half learned lesson eagerly , ’ H e r face bent o er the page ; but , when at last

e We drew togeth r , her calm eyes She raised ,

76 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A nd gave me one swift look as She went past . Then sa w I beauty worthy t o be praised ! Under such level brows those large dark eyes L d ’ ooked fearless out , and roun the mouth s repose S uch gentle purpose lived , and like the skies

is o n When dawn blushing , her cheek the rose

S o t delicately blossom“ed hat I said , ! Below my breath , Oh sweet , the wintry day ” she Grows warm at sight of you , as fast sped

U wa nconscious of me , on her upward y ;

The n t wind still blowing her brow hair alof , Lifting the heavy silken mass as though

t o It loved touch a web so bright and soft , An d steal the rich warmth from its vivid glow . A n d so she passed from sight ; but all day long The V ision held me like a dream of good The beautiful , bright creature , fair and strong , ’ Type o f America s young womanhood . A n d never will th e picture fade away ; T hat youthful splendor ﬂashes back on me , S b uper as on the bitter , bleak March day

Of long ago , a lovely memory ; An d like the genius of the land she seems , N oble and gentle , purposeful and wise , An d S like the spirit of the pring , with gleams ’ Of Summer s glory in her radiant eyes . A n d , though I know her not , nor guess what ways ’ Her feet may tread in life s thick wilderness , o I know that peace and j y shall crown her days , ’ S o strong is she with woman s power to bless . n e I k ow when that sw et head is bowed , and when The bloom of morning leaves the brilliant face ,

77 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

An d T ime draws lines there with his antique pen ,

A n d o f her sumptuous youth is left no trace , That better than the beauty of the m o m ’ The shadows of life s evening shall appear . To natures such as these a calm is born

Of storm and stress and tumult , and more dear A n d precious will her loveliness have grown

sa she For every d experience has known .

FOR A FRIEND ’S BIRTHDAY

W ould I could bring you some beautiful gift ,

S t o t o omething gladden you , something charm A t o . blessing to brighten , to cheer , uplift A shield to protect you from shadow o f harm !

’ H ad I the power , I d gather for you ’ All o f of the world s treasures good and fair , All — s things to comfort you friend that are true ,

Joys that are purest , and pleasures most rare . T ’ hese at your feet on your birthday I d lay ,

Fill its swift moments with quiet delight ,

Make it divine from its earliest ray ,

From the gleam of its morn to the dusk of its night .

E mpty my hands , but my heart holds for you

All the an d good wishes of heaven earth , Fragrant as roses at dawn in the dew With these let me crown the glad day of your birth !

78 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

THE POET’S FANCY

L ightfooted Iris , playing round the vessel , o f Born the sunshine and the ﬂying spray , W hen the long sullen billows roll and wrestle , Leaping in airy dance along the way !

o Fair ﬂeeting splend r , delicately glowing , W ith gracious color spanning the cold wave , W ’ here o er the weary waste wild winds are blowing , A n d wild with clamorous voice the waters rave .

’ S o n - springs the poet s fancy , ma y tinted , A ’ long the ocean where life s voyager goes , Let but a wandering ray of light be hinted ,

Beauty takes shape and like a rainbow glows .

S o n s his sweet thought takes shape , leaps up and gladde An d warms with rainbow gleams the wintry day , ’ An d when life s cold winds chill and darkness saddens ,

Spans with an arch of joy the dreary way .

TOGETHER S ING

O lift your voices clear in chorus sweet ,

To greet the Christmas m o m that dawns once more .

th e h ol On the still air . y hymn outpour , An d yet again the lofty strain repeat ;

The listening angels might rejoice to hear A s — sound o high and pure , might join the song ,

Praising unheard , unseen , a glorious throng , A choir invisible , light hovering near

79 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

While the melodious organ pealing slow ,

f ar In golden tones resounding and wide ,

its Bears the soul upward on solemn tide , ’ Till all earth s sins and cares are left below .

t ! Children of earth and heaven , toge her sing

An d se t hail the star of splendor on high , Let your hosannas e cho t o the sky To welcome your Redeemer and your King ! AT EASTER TIME

Fresh airs through the heaven are blowing , S oft vapors melt in the blue ' In music the streams are ﬂowing

A n d the world is clothed anew .

L is ife everywhere waking , ’ A n d winter s woe i s done ;

Out of their prison breaking ,

Th e ﬂowers laugh in the su n . O look abroad ! 0 listen ! Sweet songs are in the skies ; G od makes earth glow and glisten

Like the ﬁelds of Paradise .

O delight before u s A s the fair days onward glide ! ’ The birds delicious chorus ,

The splendor far and wide .

From the grass that is stealing slowly

T o mantle the meadows in green , From the crocus springing lowly

n f n Where the golde da fodils lea ,

THE HEA VENLY G UES T

An d as he said “From his ﬁnger he drew the ruby rare , Keep thou this sparkling ring to wear ,

A n d these coins of gold so red . Proud shalt thou be Till thou art old and canst no longer sing R emembering thou didst charm the king , ” Who will remember thee .

THE PRINCESS HERMIONE O but the Princess was proud and fair !

S low she moved with a royal air . ’ A as see great King s daughter all might ,

- The H . fair haired lady , ermione

A little foot - page her train upbore Lest ﬁlm o f dust from the polished ﬂoor

S o f hould soil her garments velvet ﬁne ,

s S oft and lustrous and red a wine .

The little foot - page w a s ﬁlled with awe ’ Seldom the Princess s face he saw ’ Twas honor too much for such as b e

To carry her rich train carefully . They left the palace and went outside

T o - the terrace , marble paved and wide ; Up and down f o r the air they paced An d he watched the back of her slender waist

An d he saw the glint of her sunny hair ’Neath the ﬂoating ostrich feathers rare A n d the lace and muslin about her neck ,

White as a blossom without speck .

82 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

The heart of that little foot - page beat loud s A s he gazed at the maiden o sweet and proud . There never could be such another one ! N s su n o Prince s like his beneath the .

T hey walked on the terrace up and down , A n d safe he guarded the velvet gown . h ow But could he know , that dear little page ,

That the lady was lost in a weary rage .

Bored and tired almost to death , “Fretting and whispering , under her breath be off O to and away , and ﬂy Where yonder ﬁelds in the sunshine lie !

To gather the ﬂowers like other girls Ou t of the sight of dukes and earls ! A n d leap the brook and climb the hill , An d wander wide at my own sweet will !

S o tired am I and I may not scold , Every hour in the day I ’m told S it so thus , stand , speak this , do that

Till I feel as if I were ironed ﬂat .

O t o do something not planned before ! ’ ’ N o t the same old routi ne o e r and o e r

t o From the morning light the evening red , A n d never a thought in my empty head

She stopped in the midst of her stately walk “’ I d even like with a page to talk An d she sadly into his face gazed , That dear little face that looked up amazed

83 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

T hat dear little wistful , awe struck face , A n d e the pr tty ﬁgure of childish grace , Th e sweet eyes lifted in love and fear . Wondering to se e her stand so near R eally , dear children , I hardly dare

e To tell yo u what happ ned then and there . But the Princess stooped and before he knew Sh e had kissed her lover as truth i s true !

’ A n d there wasn t an earthquake , nor did the skies

as Fall at once , you might surmise

A n d sh e full of her hidden mirth turned ,

o N t a Sign of her face to be discerned .

A n d over the pavement on ce again She swept in splendor w“ith page and train t o But she said herself , I would that he ! My little brother had chanced t o be

’ A n d he and I mid the daisies white

Were chasing the butterﬂies out of sight , S f ro campering merrily to and , ” An d n o one to bid us do thus and so !

84 THE HEA VEN LY G UES T

ESSAY S

B Y FRIEND S OF CELIA THAXTER

Many friends o f Celia Thaxter wrote their f recollections of this gifted woman . Some o their papers have been carefully saved and

h - - e r in G . collected by daughter law , Mary

T - haxter , in a scrap book of clippings about

s i s the family and the Isle of Shoals . It from this book o f forty years ago that the

re readers of today , who are interested , may read th e acc o unts o f the rather unusual life

and environment and the charm that w as T ’ Celia haxter s .

TH E EDITORS

85 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

CELIA THAXTER

By A nn ie Fie lds If it were ever intended that a desolate island in the

on e deep sea should be inhabited by solitary family , then indeed Celia Thaxter w as the ﬁtting daughter of such a house .

In her history of the group of islands , which she calls

Am o n the I sl es o S ho a ls she g f , portrays , in a prose which h as f e w for beauty and wealth of diction rivals , the unfold ing of her nature under inﬂuences of sky , and sea , and

’ e m as solitude , and untrammeled fre do , such have been almost unknown to civilized humanity in any age of the h k . S e e world spea s also of the eff ct produced , as She fancied , upon the minds of men by the eternal sound of the sea ; a tendency to wear away the edge o f human

w as thought and perception . But this far from being

He r the case with regard to herself . eyesight was keener ,

o f her speech more distinct , the lines her thoughts more

its clearly deﬁned , her verse more strongly marked in form , and the accuracy of her memory more to be relied

w as of upon , than the case with almost any one her con

H e r temporaries . painting , too , upon porcelain possessed

H e r the same character . knowledge of the ﬂowers , and

she especially of the seaweeds with which decorated it , was so ex act that she did not require the originals before her ’

. T vision hey were painted upon her mind s eye , where every “ﬁlament and every shade seemed to be recorded . These green growing things had been the loved c omp an o f as o f ions her childhood , they continued to be her

86 ANNIE FIELDS

womanhood , and even to reproduce their forms in paint

h e ing was a delight to her . T written descriptions o f natural objects give her history a place among the p ages ’ W W el which possess a perennial existence . hile hite s S T ’ W borne , and the pictures of Bewick , and horeau s alden ,

A R eff e ries and the utobiography of ichard J endure , so long will Am o ng the I sl es of Sh oa ls hold its“place with all

. Sh e All lovers of nature says in one place , the pictures

set se a over which I dream are in this framework of the , w that sparkled and sang , or fro ned and threatened , in the ”

- as t o . ages that are gone , it does day ’ The o f T solitude Celia haxter s childhood , which was

as sh e not solitude , surrounded was with the love of a father and a mother , all tenderness , and brothers dear to

as own . her her life , developed in the child strange faculties

She Old was ﬁve years when the family left Portsmouth , of old enough , given her inborn power of enjoyment nature , t o delight in the free air and the wonderful sights around her . She gi ves I n her book a pretty picture of the child w atching the birds that ﬂew against the lighthouse lantern ,

W . Th when they lived at hite Island e bird“s would strike t it wi h such force as to kill themselves . Many a May ” “ she morning , says , have I wandered about the rock at the foot of the tower , mourning over a little apron brimful of fi re - sparrows , thrushes , robins , winged blackbirds , many fl c at ch ers colored warblers and y , beautifully clothed yellowbirds , nuthatches , catbirds , even the purple finch b e and scarlet tanager and golden oriole , and many more — side , enough to break the heart of a small child to think o f ! Once a great eagle flew against the lantern and ” the shivered glass .

87 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

He r father seems to have been a man of awful energy S of will . ome disappointment in his hope of a public

h as career , it been said , decided him to take the step of withdrawing himself forever from the world of the main

u n land , and this attitude he appears to have sustained

ﬂ in hi l H e r c n . g y to the end mother , with a heart stayed as u n ﬂ in chin l g y upon love and obedience , seems to have fol lowed him Without murmur , leaving every dear association m of the past as though it had not been . Fro this moment she became , not the slave , but the queen of her affections ,

sh e 1 87 7 su n t o and when died in , the appeared set upon ’ ’

. T her daughter s life On the morning after Mrs . haxter s sudden death , seventeen years later , a friend asked her

son W his eldest here mother was , with the intent to dis “ ”

if she t o . cover had been well enough leave her room Oh , he replied , her mother came in the night and took her

T h o away . his reply showed w deeply all who were near to Celia Thaxter were impressed with the fact that to see her mother again w as one of the deepest desires o f her heart .

The development wrought in her eager character by those early days of exceptional experience gives a n ew sense of what our poor humanity may achieve , left face to face with the vast powers of nature . S H In speaking of the energy of amuel aley , one of

she e the early settlers of the islands , says he learn “d to live as independently a s possible o f his fellowmen ; for that is one o f the ﬁrst things a set tler o n the Isles of Shoals ” H e ﬁnds it necessary to learn . r own lesson was learned

Th w a s as a s perfectly . e sunrise familiar to her eyes the an d w a s sunset , and early late the activity of her mind h e rivaled by the ceaseless industry of her hands . S pays

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

white - h aired when the su n rose and showed them those ” little specks yet rolling in the breakers ! H ow clearly these scenes wer e photographed on the sensitive plate of her mind ! Sh e never forgot nor really lost sight of her

H e r island people . sympathy drew them t o her as if they

N s were her own , and the little colony of orwegians w a “ ” ‘ H she . ow “always especially dear to her pathetic , says , of the gathering of women on the headlands , when out the sky swept the squall that sent the small boat stagger ing before it , and blinded the eyes , already drowned in sk se a tears , with sudden rain that hid y and and boat from their eager gaze ! ”

W she w as hat , what her sympathy was , to those

. The people , no one can ever quite express deep devotion of t o the their service her brothers and to herself , through long solitude of winter and the storm of summer visitors , ! is alone could testify . Such service cannot be bought it the devotion born of aff ection and gratitude and admira tion . Speaking of one of the yo“ung Women who grew up r sh e W unde her eye , often said , hat could I do in this ? world without Mina B urn tssen I hope sh e will be wi th

. A n d s me when I die there indeed , at the la t , was Mina to receive the latest word and to perform the few sad fi of ces .

t o To tell of the services Mrs . Thaxter rendered some

s a of the more helple s people about her , in the dark se son , f or when no assistance from the mainland could be hoped , Her would make a long and noble story in itself . good sense made her an excellent doctor ; the remedi es she u on nderstood , she was always hand to apply at the right

w as e t o moment . S ometimes she unexpect dly called assist

of s in the birth a child , when knowledge and trength she

90 ANNIE rFIELDS

he was hardly aware of seemed to suddenly developed . But the truth w as she could do almost anything ; and only those who knew her in these humb ler human relations could understand h ow joyous she w as in the exercise of her

o r h o w . W duties , well able to perform them r“iting to S she ! T Mina from the hoals once in March , says his is the time t o be here ; this is what I enjoy ! T o wear my old clothes every day , grub in the ground , dig dandelions , and eat them too , plant my seeds and watch them , ﬂy on

s - the tricycle , row in a boat , get into my dres ing gown right after tea , and make lovely rag rugs all the evening , and ” u s ! se nobody to disturb , this is fun In the hou and out H of it she was capable of everything . ow beautiful her skill was as a dressmaker , the exquisite lines in her own black or gray or white dresses testiﬁed to everyone who

. She n o r ever saw her never wore any colors , was any “ ” thing like trimm ing ever seen about her ; there were only f the ﬁne , ree outlines , and a white handkerchief folded carefully about her neck and shoulders .

w as ! In her young days it the same , with a difference She w as an d e i slighter in ﬁgure then , ov rﬂowing w th laughter , the really beautiful but noisy laughter which died away as the repose of manner of later years fell upon

. saw se a her I can remember her as I ﬁrst her , with the shells which she always wore then around her neck and

’ wrists , and a gray poplin dress deﬁning her lovely form . She n talked simply and fearlessly , while her kee eyes took in everything around her ; she paid the tribute o f her in st ant an e o u s laughter to the wit of others , never too eager H er to speak , and never unwilling . sense of beauty , not vanity , caused her to make the most of the good physical she points she possessed ; therefore , although grew old

91 THE HEA VENL Y G UEST

f early , the same general eatures of her appearance were

he as preserved . S w almost too well known even to S it strangers , in these later years at the hoals , to make worth while to describe the white hair carefully put up to

- preserve the shape of the head , and the small silver cres cent which sh e wore above her forehead ; but her manner

aff e c had become very quiet and tender , more and more l ionate to her friends , and appreciative of a“ll men . One of those who knew her latterly wrote me ! Many of her

a re c i a letters Show her boundless sympathy , her keen pp tion of the best in those whom she loved and her wonder e An ful growth in beauty and roundn ss of character . d h o w delightful her enthusiasms were ! AS pur e and clear as those of a child ! Sh e wa s utterly unlike anyone in

so . the world , that few people really understood her But it seems to me that her trials softened and mellowed her , of o wn until she became like one her beautiful ﬂowers , perfect in her full development ; then in a night the petals h ” s e . fell , and was gone The capabilities which were developed in her by the S necessities of the situation , during her life at the hoals

e m in winter , were mor various and re arkable than can be

' ﬁtl The l im se s w e o f y told . g p which get in her letters the many occupations Show what energy she brought to ffi bear upon the di culties of the place .

In Am o n g th e I sl e s of Sh o al s she says ! After winter h as set S fairly in , the lonely dwellers at the Isles of hoals

as en ﬁnd life quite much as they can manage , being so ti re l y thrown upon their own resources that it requires all the philosophy at their disposal to answer the demand .

t o ffl o f One goes sleep in the mu ed roar the storm , and

. The wakes to ﬁnd it still raging with senseless fury .

THE HEA VENLY G UES T seeking inhabitants of cities could not ﬁnd in their whole W round of Shifting diversions . ith a bright and cheerful

o f interior , open ﬁres , books and pictures , windows full

o thrifty bloss ming plants and climbing vines , a family of

a singing birds , plenty of work , and a clear he d and quiet

conscience , it would go hard if one could not be happy

e . u s . even in such lonelin ss Books , of co rse , are ine timable ’ Nowhe re does one follow a play of Shakespeare s with

s greater ze t , for it brings the whole world , which you need , about you ; doubly precious the deep thoughts which Wise u s of men have given to help , doubly sweet the songs all f o r e the poets , nothing com s between to distract you . It w as not e xtraordinary that the joy o f human inter so course , after such estrangement , became a rapture to ’ l as L ai ht on s n or oving a nature Celia g ; that , very early ,

o f before the period fully ripened womanhood , she Should

h e r have been borne away from island by a husband , a

wh o man of birth and education , went as missionary to the wild ﬁsher folk on the adjacent island called Star .

Th e exuberant joy of her unformed maidenhood ,

its - with power of self direction , attracted the shy , intel M r He T . lectual student nature of . haxter could not dream that this careless , happy creature possessed the strength

- and sweep of wing which belonged to her own sea gull . of In good hope teaching and developing her , of adding much in which sh e was uninstructed to the wisdom which the inﬂuences of nature and the natural affections had bred

hi s t o w in her , he carried wife a quiet inland home , here U three children were very soon born to them . nder the circumstances , it was not extraordinary that his ideas of education were not altogether successfully applied ; she sh e u required more strength than co ld summon , more

94 ANNI E FIELDS

adaptability than many a grown woman could have found , fi to face the situation , and life became dif cult and full of T problems to them both . heir natures were strongly con t raste d t o , but perhaps not too strongly complement each other , if he had fallen in love with her as a woman , and

n ot . His as a child retiring , scholarly nature and habits drew him away from the world ; her overﬂowing , sun loving being , like a solar system in itself , reached out on every side , rejoicing in all created things . Her introductio“n to the world of letters was by means L - L h of of her ﬁrst poem , and ocked , whic , by the hand

t o of R e L a friend , was brought the notice James uss ll owell ,

The Atlanti c . He at that time editor of printed it at once ,

he without exchanging a word with the author . S knew nothing about it until the magazine was laid before her .

T w as his recognition of her talent a delight indeed , and it was one of the happiest incidents in a life which was already overclouded with difficulties and sorrow . It will b e e not out of place to reprint this poem here , becaus it must assure every reader of the pure poetic gift which was in her . In form , in movement , and in thought it is as beautiful as her latest work .

LAND - LOCKED

Black lie the hills ; swiftly doth daylight ﬂee ; ’ An d , catching gleams of sunset s dying smile , Through the dusk land for many a changing mile

The river runneth softly to the sea . ! O happy river , could I follow thee ! O yearning heart , that never can be still

O wistful eyes , that watch the steadfast hill ! Longing for the level line of solemn se a

95 THE H EA VENL Y G UES T

H ave patience ; here are ﬂowers and songs of birds , f Beauty and ragrance , wealth of sound and sight , A l l ’ summer s glory thine from morn till night ,

A n d t o f o r life o full of joy uttered words .

Neither am I ungrateful ; but I dream

Deliciously how twilight falls to - night

Ov h ow er the glimmering water , the light D ies blissfully away , until I seem

To se a - o n feel the wind , scented , my cheek ,

To catch the sound of dusky , ﬂapping sail , A n d dip of oars , and voices on the gale — A o ff m ! far , calling low , y name they speak O Earth ! thy summer song of joy may soar R inging to heaven in triumph . I but crave Th e sad , caressing murmur of the wave T hat breaks in tender music on the shore .

’ M rs With the growth of . Thaxter s children an d sh e death of her father , the love and duty owed her mother

t o e S caused her r turn in the winter to the hoals , although “ w as assed th re T a portion of the summer p e as well . his ’ w as her husband s wish ; his sense of loyal ty to age and his deep attachment t o his own parents making it clear hi to s mind as the only right step for his wife to take .

sh e But had already tasted of the tree of knowledge , and the world outside be ckoned t o her with as fascinating

s a face a it ever pres ented to any human creature . It was du rm g one o f these returning visits to the Shoals that much of the delightful book from which I have quoted was writ ten ; a period when ! she had already l e arned something o f —su fﬁc ien t t o a the charms of society , accentuate her p

ANNIE FIELDS

preciation of her own past , and to rej oice in what a larger

life now held in store for her . Le ctures , operas , concerts , theatres , pictures , music — ! Did above all , what were they not to her artists ever ? before ﬁnd such an eye and such an ear She brought to them a spirit prepared for harmony , but utterly ignorant of the science of painting or music until the light of art suddenly broke upon her womanhood . Of what this new

w as o f world to her we ﬁnd some hints , course , in her letters ; but no human lips , not even her own exuberant

sa w as power of expression , could ever y how her existence A enriched and made beautiful through music . rtists who sang to her , or those who rehearsed the ﬁnest music on the piano or violin or ﬂute , or those who brought their

sh e pictures and put them before her while listened , they alone , in a measure , understood what these things signiﬁed , and how she w a s lifted quite away by them from the ordi

n ar _ l ev e l T f o r y of life . hey were inspired to do her what f or an d they could seldom do any other creature , her generous response , overﬂowing , almost extravagant in ex

ss w a s h pre ion , never alf enough to begin to tell the new The son life they brought t o her . following lines from a net addressed to the tenor singer , W . J . Winch , a singer wh h as t o his o given much joy day and generation , will convey some idea of the deep feeling which his voice stirred in her

u s Carry captive , thou with strong heart

A n d so irn d ! the clear head , and nature sweet and

Most willing captives we to thy great art .

it “35 “35 if 9?

S ask o t ing , and we no greater j y than his ,

t o Only listen , thrilling to the song , THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

Borne Skyward where the winged hosts rejoice . T Mrs . haxter found herself , as the years went on , the centre o f a company who rather selected themselves than were sele cted from the vast number of persons who f re ’ “ ” q u en te d her b“rother s house of entertainment at the

. He r w as w as islands parlor , as it called , a milieu “ ” f He quite as interesting as any of the salons o the past . r pronounced individuality forb ade the intrusion even of a

of f o r fancy comparison with anything else , and equally

f T o n bade the possibility o rivalry . here was only e thought o f — in the mind of the frequenters her parlor , that of sh e gratitude for the pleasure and opportunity gave them . and a genuine wish to please her and to become her

Sh o f friends . e possessed the keen instincts a child with

t o . regard people If they were unlovable to her , if they were for any reason unsympathetic , nothing could bring h her to overcome her dislike . S e was in this particular more like some wild thing than a creature of the nineteenth century ; indeed one of her marked traits was a curious intractability of nature . I believe that no worldly motive Of ever inﬂuenced her relation with any human creature . course these native qualities made her more ardently de v oted in her friendships ; but it went hardly with her t o ingratiate those persons for whom sh e felt a natural re L pulsion , or even sometimes to be gentle with them . ater “ ” in life sh e learned to call no man common o r unclean ;

sh e but coming into the world , as did , full grown , like

Minerva in the legend , with keen eyes , and every sense alive to discern pretension , untruth , ungodliness in guise o f e the church , and all the uncleann ss of the earth , these

s as things were a much a surprise to her it was , on the

1 00

THE HEA VENLY G UES T yet with a modesty of he arin g which made young and old

. She T wh o press to her side loved Celia haxter , in her turn was deeply and reverently attached to Mrs . Hemen way .

The ff o f T x early a ection both Mr . ha ter and his wife for William Morris Hunt grew to be the love of a life H ’ time . unt s grace , versatility , and charm , not to speak his of undoubted genius , exerted their combined fascina tion over these appreciative friends in com mon with the

hi s - tw o rest of art loving contemporaries ; but to these , each H in their several ways , unt felt himself equally attracted . and the last sad summer of his life he gladly turned to Celia Thaxter in her island home as a sure refuge in time o f h h . w as s e w o trouble It watched him day by day , listening to h is words which came clothed with a kind o f “ ” i W T om A nspi“ration . hatever genius may be , said pple

W H it . His is ton , we all feel that illiam unt had going the extinction of a great light ; a fervent han d is cold ; and the warmth which glowed through so many friends an d ”

e . w as disciples is lik a trodden ember , extinguished It Celia Thaxter ’s hurrying footsteps which traced her friend to the spot “where , in extreme weakness , he fell in death . She w as s wrote , It that pretty lake where my wild rose

o n m the had been blo mi g all su mer , and where birds dipped ” and sang at sunrise .

Her gratitude t o the men and women who brought

t o w as music her do“or knew no limit ; it strong , deep , and W c an f o r unfor“getting . hat I ever do them , she would sa . y , when I remember the joy they bring me

Julius Eichberg w a s one of the earliest friends wh o

H er ministered in this w ay to her happiness . letters over

de sc rl ti o n s ﬂow with the p of programmes for the day ,

1 02 ANNIE FIELDS

E when Mr . Paine and Mr . ichberg would play t“ogether or alone , during long mornings and afternoons . I am lost ” “ she in bliss , wrote ; every morning , afternoon , and even ing Beethoven ! I am emerging out of all my clouds by ” help o f it ; it is divine !

hi n he A n d . s o w s “again , writing of Mr Paine in home , said ! I am in the midst of the awful and thrilling music

(E di u s T e of the p yrannus , and it curdl s my blood ; we are

all steeped in it , for J . K . P . goes on and on composing d it all the time , and the tremendous chor s thrill the very ‘9 ’ is timbers of the house . It most interesting .

A t o o hi s Of rthur Whiting , , and wife , whose musical

she o gifts placed among the ﬁrst , she frequently wr te and

spoke with loving appreciation . These friendships were

a never failing source of gladness to her . L ater in life came Mr . William Mason , who was the

o chief minister to her j y in music , her enlightener , her

. T consoler , to the end hose who loved her best must always give him the tribute of their admiration and grate

ful regard . Mr . Mason must have known her keen grati

f or wh o tude , understood better than he the feeling by which she w as lifted away from the things of this world b y the p“ow e r of music ! Th e dignity of labor is a phrase we have often

heard repeated in modern life , but it was one unnecessary

to be spoke n by Celia Thax ter . It may easily be said of her that one of the ﬁnest lessons she unconsciously taught

was not only the value of labor , but the joy of doing things

. The as well necessities of her position , I have already

she indicated , demanded a great deal , but responded to the need with a readiness and generosity great enough to ex

1 03 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

H o tort admiration from those who knew her . w much she contributed to the comfort of the lives - o f those she loved at the Shoals w e have endeavored to show ; how beautiful w as her garden there , in the summer , all the world could se e ; but at one period there w as also a farm at Kittery

in Point , to be made beautiful and comfortable by her du str on e ied a terre y, where of her sons still lives ; and a p

I n Boston or in Portsmouth , whither she came in the winter

so n w as with her eldest , who especially dependent upon her love and care ; and all these changes demanded much of her time and strength . She w as cer tainly one of the busiest women in the ’

. W S 6 1 880 world r“iting from Kittery Point , eptember , , she ! i s i s says It divinely lovely here , and the house charming . I have brought a servant over from the hotel , and it i s a blessing to be able to make them all comfort able ; to set them down in the charming dining - room over looking the smooth , curved crescent of sandy beach , with S the long rollers breaking white , and the hoals looming on

- h o ! se a . . w the far line But oh , tired we all get I shall be Y T ” ! . T quite ready for my rest our weariest , loving C . his h note gives a picture of h er life . S e w as always helping to make a bright spot around her ; to g I v e of herself in some

i s . way . There s a bit in her book which illustrate this instinct

The incident occurred during a long , dreary storm at the

S . Tw o e . hoals men had come in a boat , asking for h lp A S n o t little child had died at tar Island , and they could

sail to the mainland , and had no means to construct a fi l l th cof n among themselves . A day I watched e making of that little Chrysalis ; and at night the last nail was driven

o f in , and it lay across a bench , in the midst the litter of d the workshop , and a curious stillness seeme to emanate the from the senseless boards . I went back to house and

1 04

THE HEA VENL Y G UEST

? — limitations a question never to be answered in this world . Her “observations began with h“er earliest breath at the the s rI n islands . I remember , she says , in p g , kneeling

o f on the ground to seek the ﬁrst blades grass , that pricked through the soil , and bringing them into the house to study and wonder over . Better than a shopful of toys they were ? t o me ! Whence cam e their color H o w did they draw t t their swee , refreshing tint from the brown ear h , or the ? limpid air , or the white light Chemistry was not at hand n ot to answer me , and all her wisdom would have dis

e ll e d . L p the wonder ater , the little scarlet pimpernel charmed me . It seemed more than a ﬂower ; it was‘like a human thing . I knew it by its homely name of poor ’ ’ w as man s weather glass . It so much wise r than I ; for sk when the y was yet without cloud , softly it clasped its t its small red pe als together , folding golden heart in s H o afety from the shower that was sure to come . w could it know so much ? ” W hatever sorrows life brought to her , and they were of i x many and the heaviest , th s e quisite enjoyment of

e f o r nature , the tender love and car every created thing

‘ within her reach, always stayed her heart . To see her fi n e rs —fin ers lift a flower in her g , g which gave one a sense of supporting everything which she touched , expressive t o o w of fineness in every fibre , although strong and orn — t o se e s with labor , her handle the e wonderful creatures Sh w as t e n o . which worshiped , something to be forgotten

The lin“es of Keats , O pen afresh your rounds of starry folds , ” Y e ardent marigolds ! were probably oftener ﬂitting through her mind or from i her lips than through the m nd or from the lips o f any

1 06 ANNIE FIELD S since Keats wr“ote them . She remembered that he said he thought his intensest pleasure in life had been to watch ” w h o f she w as the gro t ﬂowers , but “ sure he never felt their beauty more devoutly than the litt le half - savage

ﬁ re - u n being who knelt , like a worshiper , to watch the ” folding of those golden disks .

The as t o time came at last , it comes every human

f o r s being asking the reason of the faith that w a in her .

i He r It was diff cult for her to reply . heart had often

she a s sh e questioned whether believed , and what ; and yet

o u o f has said , she could not keep her faith t her poems if sh e would . We ﬁnd the following passage in Am o ng the I sl es of Sh o a l s which throws a light be yond that of her w o n “lantern . W w as she hen the boat out late , says , in soft , moonless summer nights , I used to light a lantern , and ’ t o going down the water s edge , take my station between m the timbers of the slip , and , with the lantern at y feet , sit waiting in the darkness , quite content , knowing my

w a s little star watched for , and that the safety of the boat

. I s depended in a great measure upon it . felt o much a L ’ f part of the ord s universe . I was no more afraid o the dark than the waves or winds ; but I w as glad t o hear at last the creaking of the mast and the rattling of the row ” locks as the boat approached . “ ’ A L — T part of the ord s universe , that Celia haxter

she w as im always felt herself to be , and for many years patient of other teaching than what nature brought to her .

As life went on , and the mingled mysteries of human pain

she f o r and grief were unfolded , longed a closer knowl At h atien tl v edge . ﬁrst she sought it everyw ere , and p . save in or through the churches ; with them sh e was long

1 07 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

A . t n impatient last , after arde t search through the religious

books and by means of the teachers of the Orient , the

w a s N ew T e Bible born anew for her , and the estament h A t h came her stay and refreshment . this period s e wrote

M rs H M R . . . ! to her friend , . ogers K and I read the

Bh a av ad a Of o u r e w e g Git every day liv s , and when get to the end w e begin again ! It is a great thing t o keep ’ o f one s mind full it , permeated as it were , and I think ’ M o hin i s own words are a great help and inspiration

as as i h everywhere , all through it well in the beautiful tr u c ti o n o d . I have written out clearly on the margin of my copy every text which he h as quoted from the Scrip ‘ ’

. T is on e . tures , and ﬁnd it most interesting ruth “ ” Nothing w as ever born anew in Celia Thaxter h which sh e did not strive to share with others . S e could

b u t . keep nothing secrets to herself Joys , experiences of every kind , sorrows and misfortunes , except when they could darken the lives of others , were all brought , open

- sh e . He r handed and open hearted , to those loved gener o sity knew no limits .

There i s a description by her - o f the ﬂood which swept over her being , and seemed to carry her away from

she saw L the earth , when once the great glory of the ord

h e in a rainbow at the island . S hid her face from the “ ”

w as sh e . wonder ; i“t more than could bear I felt then , sh e d said , how I longed to speak these things which ma e — ’ so t o life Sweet , speak the wind , the cloud , the bird s ’ — ﬂight , the sea s murmur , and ever the wish grew and so w as sh e om it became , growing fr and with this wish ,

Dr H a a poet the world will remember . . olmes s id once in conversation that he thought the value of a poet to the world w as not so much the pleasure that this or that

1 08

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

f - o light heartedness t o M rs. Johnson as well as t o the prisoners .

It is a strange fallacy that a poet may n ot read verses well . Who beside the writer should comprehend every shade of meaning which made the cloud or sunshine of hi ? s poem Mrs . Thaxter certainly read her own verse with a fullness of suggestion which no other reader could

t o o have given it ; and her voice was sufficient , , although

o r not loud striking , to ﬁll and satisfy the ear of the listener . But at the risk of repetition we recall that it w as her own generous , beautiful nature , unlike that of any other , which made her reading helpful to all who heard

he her . S speaks somewhere of the birds on her island as

so tame , knowing how well they are beloved , that they

- gather on the window sills , twittering and ﬂuttering , gay w a and graceful , turning their heads this y and that , eyeing ” n s you askance without a trace of fear . A d o it was with the human beings who came to know her . They were attracted , they came near , they ﬂew under her protection and were not disappointed of their rest . T Four years before Mrs . haxter left this world , when

ﬁf t - ﬁv e sh e was she was still only y years old , stricken with

H e r a shaft of death . overworked body was prostrated

she in sudden agony , and , well , young , vigorous beyond

u n the ordinary l“ot of mortals , found herself weak and so as in able t o rise . I do hate ﬁguring an interesting ” “ valid , she wrote . Perhaps I have been doing too much ,

Oh t o ! getting settled . But , I used be able to do anything Wh ere is my ol d energy and vigor and power gone ! It ” should not ebb away quite so soon ! She recovered her ffi an d old tone an“d su cient strength for everyday needs , still found life so interesting . But her keen observation

1 10 ANNIE Ff IELDS had been brought to bear upon her own condition and she suspected that she might ﬂit away from u s quickly some day . Except for one who w as especially dependent upon

she as Th e her w quite ready . surprises of this life were so t o b wonderful , it was easy for her elieve in the surprises o f the unseen ; but her letters were full as usual o f things th which feed e springs of joy around u s in this world . One summer it w a s the ﬁrst volume of poems of Richard Sh Watson Gilder which gave her great happiness . e

d . talke of them to her friends , and ﬁnally wrote“to Mr h as m . S Gilder hi self ince her death he said , I never

M rs saw . T im haxter but once , and that lately ; but her mediate and surprising and continuou s appreciation and ” H on encouragement I can never forget . ow many other c temporaneous writers and artists could say the same ! The transparent simplicity of her character and man ners , her love and capacity for labor , were combined with equal capacities for enjoying the complex in others and be t o a pure appetite for pleasure . It would impossible

ﬁnd a more childlike power o f enj oyment . A perfect happiness came to her , during the last eight

of . Th e years her life , with the birth of her grandchildren little boy who surprised her into bliss on e day by crying “’ ’ ! e out , I dore you , I dore you , granna I love you ev ry ” b re ff ! w as the creature perhaps dearest t o her heart ;

sh e but loved them all , and talked and wrote of them W with abandonment of rejoicing . riting to her friend “ ‘ ’ his Mrs . R sh e ! L E . ogers , says ittle stayed with granna , who worships the ground he walks on , and counted every .

is - ﬂ utterin . e beat of h quick g little heart Oh , I n ver meant ,

m v old t o in age , become subject to the thrill of a love

1 1 1 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

is so so like this ; it almost dreadful , absorbing , stirring

i s s down to the deeps . For the tiny creature o old an d

so hi s t wise and sweet , and fascinating in s urdy common sense and clear intelligence ; and his aff ection f o r me is

h a a wonderful , exquisite thing , the sweetest ﬂower that s ” bloomed for me in all my life through .

H e r enjoyment of art could n o t f ade nor lose its

H e r a s keenness . life had been shut , we have seen , into

he very narrow limits . S never had seen the city o f Ne w Y ork , and life outside the circle we have described was h an unknown world to her . S e went to Europe once with

h e w as her eldest brother , when ill , for three months , and she h as left in her letters (portions of which will be published in a forthcoming volume ) some striking de s c rip ti on s of what she saw there ; but her days wer e closely

r e bounded by the necessities we have suggested . Nev e th less the great world o f art w as m ore to Celia Thaxter than to others ; perhaps for the very reason that her mind w as

H e r open and unjaded . rapture over the great players “ ” E The from ngland ; her absolute agony , after seeing Cup

L sh e played by them in ondon , lest could never , never ’ w as T o n tell the happiness it to her , with ennyson s words ’ o wn as T r her tongue , it were , to follow Miss e ry s perfect — enunciation of the lines , these enj oyments , true pleasures

as . indeed they are , did not lose their power over her

S t o o Gilbert and ullivan , , could not have found a

Pina o re more amused admirer . f never grew stale for her ,

t o and her brothers yielded her fancy , or pleased it , by

he naming their little ste amer Pinafore . S went to the

se e theatre again and again to this , and all the succeeding

he t c om e dfe s by the same hands . S never seemed o weary of their fun .

1 1 2

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

’ A he r of ppleton Brown s new pictures , and then she laid

ﬂ itte d down to sleep for the last time , and away from her mortality .

The w as burial at her island , on a quiet afternoon

. He r w as in late summer parlor , in which the body lay , again made radiant , after her own custom , with the ﬂowers from her garden and a bed of sweet bay w as prepared by A H her friends ppleton Brown and Childe assam, on which s her form w a laid . William Mason once more played the music from

S she an d O s chumann which chieﬂy loved an ld friend , Jame De N ff ormandie , paid a brief tribute of a ection , spoken h h s for all those w o surrounded her . S e w a borne by her brothers and those nearest to her up t o the silent spot

h er as where body w left .

Th e w as su n w as day still and soft , and the veiled n as f ol declini g the solemn procession , bearing ﬂowers , At lowed to the sacred place . a respectful distance above stood a wide ring of interested observers , but only those who kn ew her and loved her best drew near . After all ‘ w as w as rest u on done , and the body at p a fragrant bed

- prepared for it , the young ﬂower bearers brought their

The - burdens to cover her . bright , tear stained faces of

o f those who held up their arms full ﬂowers , to be heaped upon the spot until it became a mound of blossoms , allied the the scene , in beauty and simplicity , to solemn rites of antiquity . ’ It was indeed a poet s burial , but it was far more than that ! it was the celebration of the passing of a large and

n ﬁ e nt b e e c soul . ANNIE FIELDS

1 14 LA NDE MRS . RZ A RS ON

C ELIA THAXTER A N D H ER G ARD ENS

La rz A n e rs n B M rs . d o y .

. E A s Mrs mma M . nderson who w a for eight seasons at the Isles of Shoals under the L aighton management has on The written a booklet Celia Thaxter and her garden .

’ H e ra ld is p erm itted by the authoress to publish the fol lowin“g One goes t o sleep in the muffled roar of the storm ” S and wakes to ﬁnd it still raging in senseless fury . uch ’ w as Lai ht on the lullaby of Celia g Thaxter s childhood .

She 1 835 A 1 894 . was born in June , , and died in ugust ,

Her t o father , a man of most determined will , decided m withdraw hi self forever from the world , because of some personal disappointment which frustrated his hope o f a public career . Celia was ﬁve years old when he accepted the charge of the White Island Light H ouse on the Isl es o f Shoals N e w H nine miles from Portsmouth , ampshire , which was

I the nearest p o nt of mainland . ’ h s t . La i t on w o Mr g family consisted of a wife , sons Th e u nﬂ in ch and a daughter . mother , with a heart stayed in l g y upon love and obedience , seems to have followed s him without a murmur , leaving every dear as ociation of the past as though it had not been . All honor to her memory ! For she taught the native o f inhabitants of the island the arts carding wool , spin ning , weaving , knitting , sewing , braiding mats , etc . , and instead of becoming a slave to circumstances , she rose to

1 15 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

be a veritable queen among the islanders , and their ’ ” c hildren s children have risen up to call her blessed ! Who can r e cord such a strange childhood as the little Celia pa ssed in this lonely spot !

i s a White Island one of nine rocky islands , rising p

r n - L p a e t ly out of mid ocean . anding here for the ﬁrst time i s b N one struck y the loneliness of the place . othing but sk Wh . o y and raging seas , dashing over the mighty rocks shall describe the wonde“rful noise of the surf ! M r T T is s. haxter says ! o me it the most suggestive ” o f all the sounds of nature .

Th e t only excitemen of a long , stormy winter , and the

w as c only communication with the mainland , the o casional landing of a schooner , with lighthouse supplies , letters ,

. R Lai ht ons books , papers , and magazines emember , the g as t were a family , cultiva ed , int“ellectual and artistic .

A Mrs . T H d gain , haxter says , ere we are imprisone as as w e completely if were in the Bastille , with twenty ” “ weeks of bluster between“us and spring . I keep busy all h s e . the time , writes In the ﬁrst place , one hour every day over the ten windows full of plants , a passion ﬂower is running around th e top at the rate o f seven knots an ” hour , roses , geraniums , clouds of pinks and oxalis . In one o f the pauses o f her work she looks out of the n d T window at the interminable wet a stormy wea“ther . here is n o she ev erl ast chance of it clearing and exclaims , O ” ing , beautiful old eternal slop .

N she evertheless , loved the old lighthouse home , with its low , whitewashed ceilings and deep window seats ,

t o showing the thickness of the walls , made withstand the breakers .

1 16

THE HEA VEN L Y G UES T

Would you call this the higher education for a girl n o w adays ?

S o se e time went on , and we her maturing into beauti ful womanhood , not in the least morbid or saddened by

. A s her strange , lonely life her artistic temperament had m cravings , many a sum er morning at dawn one might have seen her creeping quietly out of the still house and

ff The H climbing to the high cli called ead , to see the T ff ’ sunrise . here , nestled in a crevice on the cli s edge , she “ ” watched the shadows draw away and the morning break .

On some of those matchless summer mornings , when she

w as went out to milk the little dun cow , it hardly possible to go farther than the doorstep for pure wonder , as she

sea looked abroad at the , lying still like a vast round ’ f e Of her w s. mirror , not a sound except a birds voice“ The conversations with these early risers , she says , loons congregate in Spring and Autumn . These birds seem to n e me the most huma , and at the same tim , the most demoniac of their kind . I learned to imitate their diff erent

Ic o n cries , and at one time the language was so familiar that I could almost always summon a considerable ﬂock by going down to the water and assuming the neighborly A conversational tone which they generally used . fter a f ew minutes half a dozen birds would come sailing in , and it was the most delightful little party imaginable , for you

is know their laugh very comical , unless a storm should be approaching , then their wild , melancholy cry is the ” most awful note I ever heard from a bird .

L ai ht on When about seventeen , Celia g married a man

T He many years her senior , Professor haxter . was a man

o f of birth and education , a devoted follower Browning

H e and a profound student . was the only teacher Mr .

1 1 8 LA N D MRS . RZ A ERS ON

Laight o n ever had for hi s children in their home on White ’ i s as s Island , and it not strange that , he watched Celia beautiful personality and unusual mind expand , he should have fallen in love with her , while he being the only young

she man of her own class had ever met , should appeal e ; so both to her heart “and intell ct after a brief courtship , sh e accepted him for better or for worse .

H e took his bride to a small N ew England village where her husband supplemented their scanty income by he giving readings of the Brownings . S learned many hard

. Sh e lessons , while trials an“d perplexities beset her path so says in her journal , I am blue sometimes ; let me

as whisper in your kind ear , that I feel if I bore the car of Juggernaut upon my back day after day . I am too much alone , and I get sadder than death with brooding over this riddle of life . My little John and Karl have grand times out of doors , and get dirtier than a whole dictionary can express . I do my own washing , and oh , for patience ! ”

W h tw o hen her fat er died , her brothers built large

n e A S . T hotels , o on ppledore , the other on tar Island hey also built a charming cottage for their mother and sister ,

M rs T x sh e . which . ha ter occupied until died ’ Celia Thax ter s knowledge of ﬂowers w a s one of her

t o best known characteristics , and the trouble She took make her garden on that rocky bed may well encourage

f ﬂ ri u ltu r some of u s in o u r e forts at o c e .

H ow can I ever describe this wonderful patch of. ? ’ R T h of color I have not oss urner s brus , nor one his At w as pictures to Show you . ﬁrst , the garden started entirely for pleasure , but in after years it became quite a

as l adl v source of revenue , the hotel guests g availed them

1 19 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T selves of the privilege to possess the lovely corsage bou ? qu ets arranged by her own hands . How did she do it be First of all , soil must brought to this rocky shore by boat from the mainland , nine miles distant . If the seeds were put in the ground when we generally plant ours , the stormy winds would beat to destruction the tiny things , the moment they responded to their natural time of germi

. l l nation S o she had to solve this problem f o r herself . A through the winter , the members of her family , her cook ,

of her friends , had instructions to gently remove the top their eggs instead of improperly breaking them in half ,

f or . as most of us do , and to save the shells her By early spring she had quite a collection of eggshells . Into these dainty ﬂower pots she put sand and soil , hiding in each a few seeds , and then placed them upright in old straw T berry crates ﬁlled with sawdust . hus she was enabled h er to transport them from winter home , Portsmouth , and put them , shell and all into the soil prepared and brought

f o r from the mainland them on the barren island , cleverly stealing a march upon tempestuous dame N ature who pre Wh sides over this region . en germination began , weeds also appeared , so a warfare had to be waged against them every day . She seems to have retained her childish habit of early “ ’ ” “ rising . I am always up at four o clock , she writes , and I hear everything every bird h as to say on any subject ” Af she whatever . ter a cold bath , would wrap herself in ﬂ an n el s warm as a precaution against the heavy dews , preparatory t o making her attack upon the army of weeds . Instead of breaking her back over this unpopular garden work , and becoming weary before any visible headway was sh e made , would spread a rubber blanket on the ground

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THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

and with the privilege of purchase by the guests . Mean o r e while William Mason John K . Payn would be trans u s S porting into musical heights with chumann , Bach ,

Beethoven , Grieg , Wagner , and others . Many poets and drawm writers were ﬁrst discovered in this g room or salon , as it was called . This life was a wonderful and happy cont“rast to her

. She S e former one writes in a letter to Whittier , ometim s I wonder if it is wise or well t o love any spot o n this old

as earth so intensely I do this . I am wrapped in measure as sit less content I on the steps leading to my garden , f ” where the freshly turned earth is odorous o the spring .

T was her ennyson chosen master , and there were few of h n o his poems with which s e w as t familiar . Whatever she might be observing , in nature , there was always some line of his running through her mind to give expression t o her she own n ot thought , and yet had her individual style ,

as on e . in the least like his , will see in reading her verses

He r life at this time w as full of ﬁne and beautiful

she things , and through her poems gave expression to the f T depth and ten derness o her inner nature . here came a time , however , when this bright outlook faded , and her

o ld hold upon the truths , which had so long upheld her loosened . Wh ile in this drifting state of mind , there entered h a t e r i His H b C t . into her life the indu , Mo ini Mohun g re teachings , some of which I quote , gradually gave her newe“d peace and happiness . M ohin i In my country , said , we speak of the scriptures as our mother . They take a man up where he is and leave him on a higher plane every time he studies them .

122 LAR AND ER N MRS . Z S O

Interior illumination or faith is the only way by D which to discover the ivinity . The Knowledge of Go d i s in the interior life that

n ot . T o grows on a man , what he does wish to do able

Go d so things , no matter how simple , for the glory of , D as to“be more and more colored by the eity . od is N is in G independent of nature . ature not ” o depen“dent of G d . The i s G o d material body not man , until puts into D ” him something to reﬂect the eity . ’ M rs T c om r hen . haxter s thought of life was very p “e h . S e t o sa do sive used often y to those about her , I

’ n o t o f . mind the thought death , it only means a fuller life ” To the fuller life she awakened one early autumnal s e morning . On e can almost e the wonder in her beauti

ful blue eyes as its glory broke upon her .

H er w as burial a veritable sacrament , with only m at members of her fa ily , and a few intimate friends in The tendance . solemn procession wended its way from her c arrv well loved cottage chanting her—favorite psalm , and ing to it s last resting place a rocky mound on the ‘ — of island the remains its beautiful benefactress , Celia h La ig t o n Thaxter .

A S EMMA M . NDER ON

123 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

G IRLHOOD M EM ORIES o f C ELIA THAXTER

By M a ud App l et o n M cD o w e ll

It blossomed by the summer se a A tiny space of tangled bloom Wherein so many ﬂowers found room t A miracle it seemed o be .

A n d tall blue larkspur waved its spikes A gai nst the sea ’s deep violet That every breeze makes deeper yet

With splendid azure where it strikes .

(From MY GARDEN by Celia Thaxter )

It was my privi lege as a young girl to be for several o f T summers in the cottage Celia haxter the poet , on

A of S ppledore , one of the Isles hoals , a group nine miles ff sea o N ew H . out to , Portsmouth , ampshire The A hotel on ppledore , one of the largest of these ’

w as M rs . T six or seven isles , owned and run by haxter s tw o Lai ht o n tw o brothers , Oscar and Cedric g , hearty and

genial hosts unspoiled by over - much contact with the main

l and . ’ Those familiar with Celia Thaxter s life will re member the curiously simple upbringing o f Miss Laight on

. T and her brothers heir father , a disappointed politician , vowing that he would never again step on mainland and on e taking his family with him , retired to of the Isles of L i ht on Shoals where he remained until he died . Celia a g lived there until she w as seventeen when she met and

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THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

- h old fashioned gardens . T e effect she achi eved was mar v el o u s and cannot be described in words , for it was unlike any other ﬂower arrangement I have ever seen .

It w as not by chan ce that she had accomplished this

she f or glorious color scheme , for worked over it hours each day , putting a touch here and another there , almost as one would paint a picture , or compose a sonata . In

n f h . o e o w o w a . fact , she said to the musicians s there , J K “ ’ o f M H Paine , Professor usic at arvard , Johnny , don t you ? ” think there should be a deep not e here When I asked her h ow she She did it all said , My dear , it means the work of a ploughman . I get up at ﬁve in the morning and pick my ﬂowers ; and then , with the help of my faithful maid ,

t o who ﬁlls the many vases for me , I begin arrange , chang ff ing vases many times until I get just the e ect I want . She cam e down to the island in late May or early June ; for she planted seeds in boxes in her winter home in

so she Portsmouth , some tiny even grew them at the start in an eggshell and then , later , carried all these slips and baby plants nine miles out to sea to put in her island “ ” garden at Appledore .

H er garden , too , was unlike any other garden , m although more beautiful , perhaps , than the more conve ti on al gardens I have seen lately ; f o r it was planted all — - helter skelter , just bursts of color here and there , and what color ! I have been told that the sea - air makes the color o f ﬂowers more vivid than they appear in inland s Wh w as o n . gardens . Certainly , it in this garde “en I o f she Y es spoke of the tangled mass ﬂowers said , , I

. T plant my garden to pick , not for show hey are just to ” supply my vases in this room . “ ” A Besides the ltar , where all her ﬂowers were mostly

1 26 MA UD APPLE TON M cD OWELL

was T massed , there the hrone , as we called it , where sh e sat w as or half reclined , for at that time she not very

. It w as l o w strong a long , rather , sofa or divan covered

a s she f with a greyish material , I remember , and hersel w as always in very light grey or white dresses , usuall y n ot made simply and according to her own style , changing h with the prevailing fashions . S e nearly always wore a

- soft white kerchief fastened with an old fashioned brooch . Her w as hair very white , her eyes very blue and her cheeks very pink ; and she had an adorable smile which lighted

sh up her whole face when e greeted you . I fell in love with her at once , of course , and nearly died of j“oy when , she the second day after my meeting her , said , Child , I

! Y o u like you may come and stay here in my cottage , ” I believe there is one empty room left . S o I was moved over fro“m the hotel to her cottage sh e o r where had ten twelve paying guests , nearly all — painters or musicians such a company . Beside the above M mentioned artists there were William ason , the pianist , E ’ W Julius ichberg , the cellist , illiam Winch , the tenor , D R Clara oris ogers , former opera singer , and the writer , A E o f nna ichberg King , who later became the wife J ohn

L H L . w as ane“of Bodley ead , ondon I felt I truly among the Immortals .

E ach morning at eleven we would rush for the best seats on sofa or chairs facing the piano and listen to — — im divine music piano , string or voice and often rom U p ptu ensemble playing . sually a different composer

was taken each morning ; one day all Beethoven or Bach ,

S S . another all chubert or chumann , Brahms or Wagner What concerts we had and h ow like boys they all “ ” were ! Just enjoying their holidays and making music

27 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

An d when they wished and playing what they wanted . in such an atmosphere o f beauty ! S omething to appeal to w t the eye and ear and even the sense of smell , ith the scen o f the honeysuckle coming in through the many windows . Then in the evenings w e had reading aloud or recita h tions by her or by some of the literary guests . T e room w as o n dim and mysterious , lighted only by a lamp the

. She piano or by her side would read us weird stories , or th e adventures o f the early settlers on the islan“ds . In o f S fact , one evening she took a party us sailing to mutty N ” ose Island , where a famous murder had been committed

v and there by the ery cave where the deed was done , read “ ” Th e S N aloud her story of Murder on mutty ose Island . Those wer e truly golden days for me and I have cherished their memory ever since .

MAU D A P P LETON M C DO W ELL

128

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

D ﬂowers from the famous little garden . ressed in white ,

fi ch u with a thin white crossing over her bosom , her face and figure express th e abundance of health which the pure Her air i s warranted to bestow . tender watchfulness over ff of the flowers , and her really a ectionate manner ga“ther do ing them , not need the explanation of her words , Oh , I love the flowers ! Other people exclaim over them and ‘ ’ ’ A ? say , ren t they lovely but I feel about them differently ” and the flowers know that I love them . ’ r In all of M s. Thaxter s companies the opening “sub c e i s j t of conversation not the conventional topic , the ” h . S e weather , but the more varied theme of flowers tells h o w she came to Appledore in March so that the garden might be prepared under her direction ; how she planted all the seeds in boxes , and then transplanted the young plants into the small patches of ground in front o f her cottage ; until they were brought to wonderful perfection by the H salt air and su n . ollyhocks and sweet peas rise high over

the fence ; nasturtiums are banked up in yellow , orange

and crimson upon the water - Side ; poppies of marvelous

red and purple and white , coreopsis yellow and white , morning glories “and other familiar ﬂowers grow l u xu ri an tl y m r of aking a quaint little wilde ness ﬂowers , strag gling hither and thither One stormy night not long ago there came a cry of f ’ M rs. T distress rom the garden , and haxter s knowledge ’ of birds recognized the sandpiper s note . Without wait

f o r she ing morning and scantily clad , went at once to the ’ little bird s assistance . Often at the hour o f midnight she

h as gone out of doors to help some suffering songster .

Birds are only less dear to her than ﬂowers , and the island

ll e n might be ca ed a paradise for birds , since they are

1 30 A VIS ITOR

c o u rag ed and cared for a s much as possible We look ” M rs T out for the birds here , . haxter says . Often little sandpipers will come into my garden and ﬂy across like

a fuzz of mist . People have often noticed how tame all ” the birds on the island seem . On the frame o f one of the ’ ’

M rs. T pictures in haxter s room , a pair of little swallow s wings is attached with the explanation that the little dead h swallow w a s found in the garden . T e description is made

a s V - A S o necessary , because ice President of the udubon c i et di s y, the hostess would not be considered guilty of ’ playing the feathers o f a bird destroyed by man s cruelty .

Birds and ﬂowers , music , art and poetry make the ’

o M rs T . A s h as atm sphere of . haxter s salon her parlor

she been enlarged during the year , is able to entertain a greater number of visitors than ever before , and mornings and evenings favored guests from the cottages and hotel enjoy conversation and music of the most refreshing and

The i s f o r inspiring kind . room itself a fitting framework musicales and conversations . With walls literally covered with pictures and hung this season with n e w flower pieces E R R T s by llen obbins and oss urner , with the de k of the poet in o ne corner and her table filled with materials for

- china and water color painting at a window , with ﬂowers banked upon the mantel - piece and in jars and vases upon

- a - tables and Shelves , with books and bric brac , music and

as open piano , it is pleasant a summer parlor as one could

’ x It is a subject o f satisfaction with Mrs . Tha ter s visitors at her morning and evening receptions that there has been a great deal of music in her parlor this season .

h as Mr . William Mason been generous in“giving many o ! hours of musical enjoyment t o the guests . Oh , do g on

131 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

T We are cormorants , Mrs . haxter says to the musician

encouragingly , while she sits at her window painting a

. Mr A design of olives upon a white jar . rthur Whiting

f o r has supplied much good music entertainment . Mr .

E t o A Julius ichberg , an annual visitor ppledore , is a

of T valued musical member the group at the haxter cottage , and Miss Henrietta Dana supplies a more lively measure

m . with her guitar , acco panying songs in negro dialect On rare occasions , the hostess entertains her guests by reading from her own poems and even more vividly brings close to the heart of her listeners the charm , the poetry and the tragedy of the life of islanders . I remember this verse was acclaimed .

Upon the sadness of the se a Th e sunset broods regretfully ;

From the far lonely spaces , slow

Withdraws the wistful afterglow .

S o out o f life the splendor dies ; S o darken all the happy skies ;

S o gathers twilight , cold and stern ;

But overhead the planets burn .

An d up the east another day Shall ch ase the bitter dark away ; What though our eyes with tears be wet ?

The sunrise never failed us yet .

The blush o f dawn may yet restore

Ou r light and hope and joy once more .

S ad n o r soul , take comfort , forget ” That sunrise never failed u s yet !

132

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

CELIA THAXTER

THE GENI US OF THE ISLES OF SH OALS

(Co rresp o n de n ce of th e Chi c ag o Tri b u n e )

T e ruest , becaus most loving of all the poets of the T ’ Isles , is Celia haxter , the child of the sea , the gray rock s own nursling , cradled almost among the billows , and hear ing ever resounding in her ears the ceaseless lullaby of

. H ow as of the ocean , a child ﬁve years of age , she went , y with her father , and mother , and brothers , to the lonel

it s isle , and lived and loved every rock and ﬂower , and

o n bird , and insect , and watched every cloud and shadow

se a the , and sail , and cliff , and day by day yearned and

t o longed , and durst not venture utter in words the wonder

sh e ful thoughts which stirred within her soul , herself has

u s Am o n the I sl es given glimpses in her delightful book , g

o Sh o a l s e m . i s f , and in her po s It marvelous , the minute , painstaking aff ection with which the lonely girl studied

as of and watched the scanty , most us would call it , life — ! h o w vegetable , and animal , and human around her each bit of moss , the little sandpiper on the beach , the ﬂoating an d spar , became to her a rich storehouse of visions phantasms ; and also h o w she noted every peculiarity of — o ﬁ sh c u ltiv at crag , and c ast , and , and bird , and beast , ? ing a power of faithful observa tion such as many of the most book - and - society - taught students lack and would give much to possess Perhaps the best known of her poems is S i s the andpiper , which taught in the schools from

Maine t o Oregon .

1 34 CHICAGO TRIB UNE

THE SANDPIPER A cross the narrow beach we ﬂit ,

One little sandpiper and I , A n d fast I gather , bit by bit , The scattered driftwood bleached and dry .

The f o r wild waves reach their hands it , The wild wind raves , the tide runs high , A s up and down the beach we ﬂit 1 One little sandpiper and . Above our heads the sullen clouds Scud black and swift across the sky ; Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds

Stand out the white lighthouses high . A lmost as far as eye can reach

se e the - I close reefed vessels ﬂy ,

A s fast we ﬂit along the beach ,

One little sandpiper and I .

as I watch him he skims along ,

Uttering his sweet and mournful cry . He fitf u l starts not at my song , f Or flash o fluttering drapery . He has no thought of any wrong ;

H e sc an s me with a fearless eye . S e taunch friends are we , well tri d and strong ,

The little sandpiper and I .

- Comrade , where wilt thou be to night When the loosed storm breaks furiously ? My driftwood ﬁre will burn so bright ! ? T o what warm shelter canst thou ﬂy

I do not fear for thee , though wroth The tempest rushes through the sky ; ’ w For are e not God s children both , T ? hou , little sandpiper ; and I 1 35 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T It interests me much now to recall my ﬁrst sight of T x o t o Celia ha ter , before she had become kn wn fame , and n A while she still lived comparatively unk own at ppledore . We —a were spending a week party of merry young people ,

- at A cousins and friends the ppledore house , then kept ’ L i h n - M rs. T . a to by haxter s father , Mr g , now by her two ’ The brothers . father s history was interesting , and the subject o f much speculation to the loungers about the hotel H e verandas and halls . was a disappointed politician ,

th e and , disgusted with the thanklessness of people , had

ﬂed the world and tried t o live in solitude . But somehow . n ot t o ma though he would go the inland , the mainland had — k —he come to him , will or nill nobody new which , had

found himself the center of a throng of summ er visitors . “ ” We girls , however , cared not so much about the poli ’ tici an father s mental struggles as for the romance of his — daughter , the very young woman with the babies , whom

we saw tilting about , in fearless fashion , in her little boat ,

among the breakers ; or weeding her garden , and picking

vegetables , and doing homely household duties , at the “ ” t ! x cottage above the hotel . Only o think of it e cla“imed A o f S o . . dainty Miss ristocrat Beacon treet , Bost n Mr T H haxter her husband , is a arvard graduate , and , they ’ say , is cultivated and polished , and might have married so in his own or the ﬁrst circles . But he is dreadfully

eccentric , and he came down here , and fell in love with ’ sa o that rough girl , and I dare y he ll be as c arse as she is , ”

. A nd some day we all shook our heads , and sighed at the H perversities and eccentricities of arvard students , and

went on with our embroidering , and crocheting , and gos ’

si in s our . T p g , until week s trip was over hen we went o f back t o our various circles society , such as our

respective modicums of money , blood , or culture , had made

1 36

TH E HEA VENL Y G UES T

under the mantel , and vines hanging over it ; a writing

or desk in the corner , also with ﬂowers on it ; and a head — - a bust , life size , garlanded with a running vine , morning

h s . W w a glory , I think ile I looking to get something

o u t e deﬁnite of the g neral impression , the mistress of the — — house , the genius loci came in , a bright , breezy , cordial ,

- - ﬁv e self sustained woman , of apparently thirty years or thereabouts , with a dash of brusqueness in her manner , or at least a refreshing absence of the lackadaisical o r senti ” Let n mental . me pick you some pa sies , were the quick , impulsive words of genuine hospitality as I hastened t o A s apologize for an d make brief my unintroduced call . I watched her lithe and graceful f“orm bending over the o f bed blooms , I thought of the rough girl , and the H t n eccentric arvard s udent , and my aristocratic acquai t

th . n ot ance of e years gone I do know her history , but i h as T it s to be presumed She heard of Celia haxter , and “ ” would be proud to w ea ve her into the ﬁrst circles of

Beacon Street .

138 CHRIS TIAN S CIENCE MONI TOR

M Y LIG HTHOU SE

(Prepared for the Ch ristia n S c i e n ce M o n it o r )

CELIA LA Ic H T ON THAXTER w as the daughter of a N ew E wh o ngland public man , wearying of political

o f S o ff life , retired to the Isles hoals , the short coast of

N e w H a s ampshire , where he lived keeper of the light on H White Island . ere the young girl learned to know the

se a - es ocean , the birds , winds and tid , and the light , on

s whose faithful tending o much depended . She w on a large circle of friends by the poems that reﬂect her life there . Famous writers and artists loved to visit her on the rocky Appledore that w as her home after

He r a . w s so her marriage to Mr Thaxter . garden here beautiful that artists often came to paint it . Th e poem used here as a hymn w a s named My Light

was t 1 890 as house , and printed with several o hers in a

Christmas card or booklet by Prang , with illustrations f M rs. T on e o painted by haxter , them the lighthouse which N had long lighted the shore of ew Hampshire . The card w as found in a neglected book in a Cam f l h t o H m n a . T e bridge home , and was o fered at once the y ’ r T poem is not included in any of M s . haxter s collected

t o u se as w as works , and special permission it a hymn given

so n T H Un i by her , Professor haxter , formerly of arvard Th versity . e words have a ﬁne vigor and sweep and their u se here perpetuates a noble parable from the human life of our time . D h The ir R . S w o music is by S obert P tewart of ublin , w as o f D an organist wide repute , a professor in ublin

U a . niversity , and incidentally an uthority on bagpipes

Th e of name the tune is , of course , derived from the word E ucharist . 139 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

MY LIGHTHOUSE

L ift up thy light , O soul , arise and shine Steadfast while all the storms of life assail ! Immortal spark of the great Light divine Against whose power no tempest shall prevail !

’ H a old high thy lamps above e rth s restless tides , Scatter thy messages of hope afar !

Falsehood and folly pass , but truth abides ;

Thine be the splendor of her deathless star .

’ When the world s sins and sorrows round thee rave , th Pierce thou e darkness with thy dauntless ray ,

S o u t end thy happy beams to help and save , “ ” More and more shining to the perfect day !

CELIA THAXTER

140

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

’ Ne Y state in which she w as born . On w ear s day of that

A - s S w as year , the nti lavery ociety organized in Boston , and the national debt on that date was the lowest as R L point to which it w ever reduced . ichard awrence attempted to assassinate President Jackson o n the thirtieth D 1 6th 1 7 th c of that month . On ecember and o curred the N e w Y D great ﬁre in ork City , and that month Maj or ate and one hundred sixteen men were massacred by the Semi t S ﬁ re noles . In tha year amuel Colt patented revolving arms .

T . P . Barnum started that year to tour the country with his o f w as famous circus , and the city Philadelphia lighted

f u s with g as for the ﬁrst time o such e . T hree men , who became the most prominent men of A their period in merica , in literature and religion , were

T o born the same year , Mark wain , Bishop Phillips Bro ks

L A . s n A and yman bbott Charle Fra cis dams , the historian , w as of a famous family of that name , born that year . E H A lisha Gray , electrician and inventor , etty Green , meri

L a e e can capitalist , John Farge , paint r , sculptor and d co H rator , Bishop enry Codman Potter , are familiar names of 5 persons wh o were born in 1 83 .

H E R BIRTH IN PORTS MO U TH

T w as 29 1 835 Celia haxter born June , , in Portsmouth ,

N e w H e n ow 48 ampshire , in the wood n house numbered

D S o n o f aniels treet , the northerly side the street , and ' ' as o b M o ses N occupied a st re y annis , under the trade

h Sh e A name of T e Canteen . died at her cottage on pple ’ H er A 26 1 894 . dore Island , ugust , mother s maiden name

w as Eliza Rymes .

The building in which she was ho rn is a three - storey

1 42 UD E US TIN H HA W J G J . S

structure , with two ﬂoors above devoted to a warehouse Its h as and storage . present appearance little to indicate

w as o as that it ever ccupied a dwelling house . Celia

T w as haxter the ﬁrst of three children , then Oscar and

. A n Cedric , the youngest older sister died in babyhood .

H E R FATHER A REMAR ! AB LE M A N

H o T L n . e homas B . ighton , the father , was born at

rt 1 804 se a - Po smouth , in , of a family of faring men , one

Lai ht on h as e R of whom , Mark g , b en mentioned by ichard Dana in one of the stories of the se a by that distinguished

Thr Ye a rs B e o r the M ast author of e e f e .

L i h o n . a t h as mm Mr g“ , who been co only reported to t o S 1 839 have retired disgruntled the Isles of hoals in , his w as when daughter only four years old , became the L W . keeper of hite Island lighthouse , succeeding Joseph

L w as Wh a l esb ack se ocke , who appointed to lighthou , and L E H e . S . ocke , succeeding amuel askell , r signed It is very probable that the u se of the word dis ” ’ Le gruntled in connection with Mr . ighton s selection of

i As the Shoals s misleading . a politician he had been successful , and w as a state senator that year from Ports in the mouth , the ﬁrst senatorial district , and defeated by H Hon H n . e . J ohn Page of averhill , for gover or had also been successful as a business m an and a public spirited w as th e N ew H e citizen of Portsmouth , editor of ampshir an d Gazette , held positions in the custom house and post

ffi His his o ce in Portsmouth . residence , at the time of

the S w as 1 00 S as appointment to hoals , Market treet , the houses were then numbered .

H IS MANY INTERE S T S

He w as one of the directors of the Portsmouth Whal THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

1 832 ing Company , incorporated in June , , with a capital of H on stock and of which the . Ichabod Good H f win wa s the president . e was one o the selecting c om ’ m itte e e R of the Portsmouth Working M“n s eading Club , 1 834 t o founded in , and designed be a debating as well The as a reading club . membership numbered about forty 1 839 s n in , and funds were raised by as essme ts not to ex f o r 1 839 c e e d ﬁve dollars a year each member . In the D ’ society owned a valuable library , composed of obson s ’ E - H Li ncyclopedia of twenty one volumes , arper s Family ” b rar . y, and several other valuable works 1 839 S In , the year of his departure to the hoals , he w o of as a member of the scho l committee of fourteen , the

D N o 1 o n istrict . , and a member of the committee high E e S . n schools , the other two members b ing amuel Co es and

H Y H e o f t o William . . ack tt ; and one a committee ex amine the schools and to report the books and apparatus necessary to be used .

U e S 1 00 pon his r moval to the hoals , his house ,

S c W . Lai ht o n Market treet , was o cupied by Joseph g , who L h o n N o 7 S e . _ s . ai t removed from . Green tre t J o eph W g

c N o 1 07 S . H as was a gro er at . Market treet andicapped ‘ he was from the time of his boyhood by an injury from an accident which required him t o use a can e all his life until in later years he was obliged to use a crutch , he seems to have been a man with the energy and activity of the average two men .

TH E THAXTERS IN A MERI CA

Th e Thaxters are on e of the oldest famili es in T T T America . hey are the descendants of homas haxter

t o H . 1 638 of England . who came over ingham , Mass , in ,

1 44

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

as our education . Mother w delighted that her children

- were having the beneﬁt of this heaven sent school .

TH E MARRIAGE AND EARLY Y EARS

The marriage of Levi Lincoln Thaxter and Celia L aight on took place in the south parlor o f the Appledore H otel , before a distinguished gathering of friends and guests of the hotel , the ceremony being performed by the

Rev U e . John Weiss , a nitarian progr ssive and biographer T e U of heodore Parker , the wid st known of the nitarians of his time .

For a while following their marriage , it seems that L L T T evi incoln haxter and his bride Celia haxter , lived

o n S . T w as e tar Island , where Mr haxter the preach r in the stone church , and they lived in the old parsonage L i ht provided for the minister . Oscar a g o n mentions that his sister had said that the days on Star Island with her husband were the happiest of her married life .

T e T e N t h n the haxters se m to have moved to ew on , 1 880 Mass . , and resided there until in a farm on Cutts w as T Island , Kittery Point , Maine , purchased by the haxter T family , where both Mrs . haxter and her husband spent

. T parts of the year . Mrs haxter spent her summers and many winters at Appledore .

’ CELIA THAXTER S COLLE C TED POEM S

of T In the collected poems Celia haxter , gathered into 1 906 son the eighth edition in , and copyrighted by her ,

r R T H Professo oland haxter , of arvard , and known as the A E H Mifﬂ in ppledore dition , and published by oughton ,

o o n e - C mpany of Boston , there are hundred sixty eight

! La i ht on . selections . and one poem by her brother , Oscar g

146 UD E US TIN H S A W J G J . H

S J h as arah Or“ne ewett , who written the preface to the edition , says , In this new edition of the collected writings ‘ T h a s of Celia haxter , great care been taken to keep to her own arrangement and to the order in which the poems were

originally published . In this way they seem to make some thing like a journal of her daily life and thought , and to mark the constantly incre asing power o f observation which w as s f h e r o marked a trait o character .

as t o se e In this , her eyes grew quicker the blooming

of ﬂowers , and the ﬂight of birds , the turn of the waves

A so es as they broke on the rocks of ppledore , the ey of her spirit read more and more clearly th e inward signiﬁcance

of things , the mysterious sorrows and joys of human life . In the earliest of her poem s there i s much t o be found o f that strange insight and anticipation of experience which com es with such gifts of nature and gifts for writing as

as hers , but as life went on , it seemed if sorrow were visible ﬁ t o . her eyes , a shrouded gure walking in the daylight ‘ ’ Here I in sorrow sit was Often true t o the sad vision of

she her imagination , yet oftenest came hand in hand with ’ ” o some invisible dancing j y t o a friend s door .

’ SARAH ORNE J E W E T T s E S TIMATE

’ ’ Miss Jewett s estim ate of the poet s work and spirit in this respect is so intimate and so just that one cannot hope

h er so b to improve upon words , and they become quota le and appropriate and timely in our own consideration of

her verses.

e T In reading the po ms and the life of Celia haxter , one is almost involuntarily impressed with the similarity L L of the life and spirit of ucy arcom , another genuine poet L of the time of Celia Thaxter . Miss arcom was there

147 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

. T f o r a 1 867 with Mrs haxter three d ys in July , , and as I have said before in the anniversary article and tribute t o L L B o sto n Tra nsc ri t M 8 1 924 “ucy arcom in the p of arch , , One cannot r ea d o r write very much of either of them without involving in some happy w ay a mention of the ” other .

Lai ht on his of N ine t Yea rs at th e Oscar g , in book y Isl es o Sho a l s A f , recalls that ppledore Island was next t o

Concord in Massachusetts , as a gathering place of dis tin u ished g people .

’ “ CELIA TH AXT E R S A MERI CAN SALON

Lai ht Mr . g on says ! Among those whom it w as our t o H L great privilege meet , I recall awthorne , owell , Whit A S T A tier , ldrich , tedman , Fields , rowbridge , Beecher , lbee ,

R . . o R D L an d r . B F rbes , James Whitcomb iley , owell Mason (who wrote the hymns ) came often with his wife H L and splendid sons , William , enry and owell . I also h L recall Frances H . Burnett (w o nam ed her ittle Lord f o r o E Wh Fauntleroy my br ther Cedric ) , lizabeth ittier , S H S L L arah Orne Jewett , arriet Beecher towe , ucy arcom , H S o A s R s L arriet Prescott p fford , nnie Field , o e amb and L A h ouise C . Moulton . mong the fam ous painters w o

t o A W o H DeHass came ppledore were illiam M rris unt , , R n H A T . oss ur er , Childe assam , J ppleton Browne , Olaf G au an i l W S Brauner , g g g , arren heppard , and many others , De H ass w as all remarkable for their special gifts . famous f o r pictures of a breaking wave ; R oss Turner for his charming sketches o f our b o ats ; Childe Hassam for mag n iﬁ c ent pictures of the gorges and r o cks at Appledore ; Applet on Browne for ex quisite pictures of m o onlight on H the water . William Morris unt was found drowned at

148

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

’ and in the parlor William Mason w as playing Beethoven s h t s e so . A R L music tha loved well nnie Fields , ose amb , ’ L D s ucy erby and all my sister s children were there . A I saw Celia lying there , the thought came to me that surely

so anyone gifted and beloved could not be lost forever . Dr H A . William Warren , Childe assam , J . ppleton Browne , Cedric and I carried her to the quiet grave with father and ” mother on A ppledore . ’ Celia Thaxter s cottage w as destroyed by the great ﬁre A S 1 9 1 4 A on ppledore in eptember , , when the ppledore

H an d otel and seven of the cottages were wiped out , so m uch o f the visible work of the Laight o n s w a s obliterated in a few hours .

’ M R T S L U C . HAXTER ITERARY INFL EN E

N ot much h as ever been said generally ab out the in

ﬂ ue n c e of Mr . Thaxter in the poetical development of Celia T haxter . But I think we are also indebted to him for her inspiration to write ; and we know particularly that she

his hi s had assistance and criticism upon her ﬁrst poem ,

La l n d o cked .

T h as My mother , Mr . J ohn haxter said , in handing

hi s the poem to my father for criticism , had little expecta

its hi s tion of meeting with approval , but he at once recog n iz e d its hi s merit , and placed it in the hands of friend and R L t Atl anti c relative , James ussell owell , then edi or of the

M o n thl wh o of y , published it in the next number the maga zine “without waiting t o communicate with my mother . Many were the discussions my parents had toget her ’ d n in the early ays of my mother s literary life , concer ing ’ s w as her poem , and it to my father s advice and suggestion

she o f at that time , I think , that owed much her beauty and ﬁnish of diction ! ”

150 UD E U TIN H J G J S H . S A W

TH E THAXTERS AND BRO W NING

In A G u ide - B o o k t o th e Po et ic a n d D ra m a ti c Wo rks o R o b e rt B ro w n in 1 95 h e f g by George Willis Cooke , page , ’ mentions that Celia Thaxter h as written of her husband s ’ “ ’ T admiration for Browning s poetry ! Mr . haxter s admira ’ tion of Browning s genius developed in early youth , and he w as already a devoted student of his poetry long before ’ Browning s name had become familiar in this country .

His w as enthusiasm something beautiful , and it grew and hi s T his strengthened with every year of life . o clear mind ’ w a s the poet s meaning always perfectly intelligible , and he had the power of making others understand without an ff ’ e ort the subtleties of the master s most mystic utterances . T Mr . haxter gave readings from Browning in Boston which were regarded as quite remarkable in the way of a o A clear interpretati n . boulder on the Maine seacoast

his marks grave , and for this monument Browning wrote the following lines !

L L T W M assach u evi incoln haxter , Born in atertown , D 1 1 824 . 3 1 setts , February , ied May ,

T e saw ! hou , whom these ey s never S ay friends true

Wh o sa y my soul , helped onward by my song , ? T h as hough all unwittingly , helped thee too I gave of but the little that I knew '

H ow were the gift requited , while along L ’ ife s path I pace , couldst thou make weakness strong ! Help me with knowledge—for Life ’s — ’ Old Death s N ew !

8 5 . . A . 1 8 L L . T . R B . t o . . pril

151 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

T Po e t - Lo re A his poem was ﬁrst printed in for ugust , 1 889 f f o r , an accurate copy being urnished publication by

M r . T s haxter . “ TH E BRO W NING STONE

This boulder on the Maine seacoast referred t o is within the o ld cemetery opposite the Congregational Church at Kittery Point , close to the stone wall on the left of the road as one thereabouts turns to the right to go to the Ge r ’ rish mansion . It is an irregular shaped stone not much On more than three feet above the ground . e cannot read an d the inscription readily , it would be quite impossible t o make out all the words if one had never seen them in f . o E T print Close by is the grave Charles liot haxter , a H . R T . grandson , the son of Prof oland haxter of arvard

T i s as here a beautiful reference to this young man a child , L t r l i h t r h e te s o Ce a T ax e 206 . T e in the f , on page three L R sons of evi and Celia , Karl , John and oland , are buried near their father

TH E SELE C TION OF TIIE S TONE

o f - a Of the selection this stone for monument , John “ ’ Tb axter told me ! I don t remember exactly the year the

set 1 886 . T stone was up , but I think it was in here is nothing especial t o state about its selection . It is a beach H boulder and came from the shore near Brave Boat arbor . We had it b e cause my father disliked the conventional Th modern cut stones in common u se f o r gravestones . e H f T w as . lettering done by Mr obbs o S outh Berwick . ime h as changed all the letters to the same Shade as the rest

e so of the ston , that unless the stone be wet or the light just right , they are very hard to decipher . In the morning , Th e su n . however , before the gets high , they Show plainly

152

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

M TH Ae R H I R . AND S WIFE T While Mr . haxter was quite a little older than his f wife , as I have shown , the disparity in no way inter ered H with their happiness . e evidently readily recognized the o f his she talents young bride from her childhood , and appears t o have proﬁted constantly from her association

H er o n e with him . whole life work , so far as may now see into it , was based on his help , at least in construction e and in expression . W probably owe a very great debt t o An d him for many of her inspirations . probably also we are indebted t o him for the bro - ad spirit that is shown in ’

. 1 880 all of Mrs . Thaxter s verses and in her letters In he purchased the Cutts farm on what has long been known m as Cutts Island , and here he spent his sum ers until his 1 884 death in .

154 BLANCHE FEARIN G

C ELIA THAXTER ’S G RAV E ON APPLED ORE

H ow ﬁtting thou shouldst hold her island grave

se a In thy embrace , O wonderful white , An d that the solemn tones of wave and wave , H ’ olding mysterious converse , e er should be ’ Th e she voices round her , since loved them best ;

T s sk hat , like a waveles sea , the boundless y S hould bend and beat above her , like a breast

With inﬁnite star - pulses throbbing by ; That she should be in state forever there In God ’s cathedral where day and night His tapers burn with unextinguished light , A n d silence ﬁlls the mighty dome like prayer , Above the music of his organ se as By s ome great angel swept through mystic keys ! S ! O ilence , what a trumpet tongue thou hast O Death ! how thou dost live ! H er grave is there

10 sa h as But , her spirit that men y passed r e ! From ea th to heaven , abideth verywhere H er voice is in the murmur of the seas ; He r garme nts rustle with the bending ﬂowers ; She breathes upon us in the passing breeze ;

Her gentle music wings the languid hours .

T - hus heart beats vibrate on when hearts are still , A n d thoughts go winging on beyond the will T ’ hat gave them life , as stars that leave God s throne Wh eel on forever through the vast unknown ; ’ My soul , this is earth s immortality S ! ’ ? weet , wonderful what then must heaven s be

BLANC HE FEARING 155 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

IN M EM ORIAM

To Ce lia Thax te r

Oh where dwells my Lady of long ago Whose garden was out at sea ? Each year when the lilies and larkspur grow

Sh e appears again to me .

We laid her to rest to the sea ’s dirge song Deep down in her island tomb H as she slept there still with the dead so long Bound fast in their land of gloom ?

N o ! H er n ot radiant spirit dwells there , But in sunlit realms above

In all the gardens , and everywhere ,

She abides with light and love .

MARY LI VINGS TON TARLETON

156

HE HEA VENL Y G UES T

She u s sa loved , they will y to me

In wordless language ﬂowers speak .

S o ld - w e imple fashioned things are , Y et pleasure brightened in her cheek

When sh e came down the path t o say ‘ ’ Good morning to each ﬂower she met ,

In that sweet voice that sang , one day , ‘ ’ The sunrise never failed us yet .

We miss her so ! A shadow fell Between u s and the su n that day When to the garden Azrael ‘ ’ Came with the message , Come away .

so u We pine for what m ch we miss ,

A las f o r loss that love has met In losing her whose song w as this ‘ ’ The sunrise never failed us yet . But sometime to the garden bowers Be sure that sh e will come t o say

S t o weet things all her charming ﬂowers ,

A n d that will be a happy day .

We watch f o r her and she will come

The friend we never can forget ,

Wh o sang t o souls with grief made dum b

‘ 9 9 9 The sunrise never failed us yet .

158 CELIA THAXTER

o f Born the sea foam and the mist ,

He r rosy feet by azure wavelets kissed ,

H er heart swept pure by every wind that blew ,

H er love returned by every ﬂower that grew .

S o was she as a child ; as maid and wife

H er heart grew deeper with emotions rife ;

H er soul was tuned to music , hearts of men

Hearing her words grew strong and young again .

He r se a songs were of the , its waves , its shore , ’ The she lessons that taught were love s deep lore ,

An d from her island home , with touch divine ,

Sh e breathed a music that endures with time .

Her spirit has not ﬂed , it still rests where

Its guerdon falls upon her native air , An d still shall dwell forever ; touch of pen H ath claimed f o r her immortal diadem .

L . M . . B

159 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

CELIA THAXTER

” She sleeps ! She sleeps ! — M r u ret “u m h the wind and the garden weeps . N o more ! N o more .

se a A M o an e th the around ppledore .

He r sea - girt home she made a paradise

A n d reigned among her ﬂowers , a gracious queen . Their radiant gorgeousness

Felt daily her caress ,

H e r loving care , her presence so serene ;

A n d n ow among their blooms at rest she lies .

Fitting the time , in plenitude of power , A h t e r . close of summer , that life should cease N ot as a stranded wreck

’

- Se a swept from deck to deck . But fading swiftly into that great Peace A t . night and silently , like some sweet ﬂower

“ ” She sleeps ! She sleeps !

M u rm u reth — the wind and the garden weeps . “ ” N o more ! N o more !

M o an eth e a A the s around ppledore .

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THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

ﬁ c u lt to separate exactly one portion or element of her

a o f o f life from others , yet this ph se it appears to me singular value as typical of the modern Christian world ,

its practical and material in tendencies and labors , h fi spiritual and ideal in its aspirations . T e dif culties and contradictions of this position have led certain free souls free , I mean , through their early nurture or want of it , the absence of religious afﬁliations , or from the various circumstances of personal associations and inﬂ u en ce

o f through a long course thought , of experience , of chang ing doubts and beliefs , to ﬁnal peace and rest .

Celia Thaxter w as such a soul ; and I think it not u n becoming to speak of some things in her life n ot so well

as as known , but instructive , those of her literary and

. A social career long intimacy , common pursuits and f O sympathies , and requent interchange of pinions and ex

e ri n c p e e s enable me t o pay this tribute to her memory .

wh o c t o u s When those have been lear and helpful are gone , we try to recover and preserve what is of most value . In a ﬁre sometimes we can save the more precious articles ,

h u . is T e s d sometimes only the worthless It so at death . den ne ss t o , the terror of it , at ﬁrst make it difficult separate and distinguish the essential and permanent from the transient and unimportant . For my part , when friends die , I can never think so much of what they have accomplished a s of what they were ; and it is one of the bitter ironies ’ w a s of life , that what one in one s living characteristics

so should often pass into oblivion , while a book or monu a ment of some kind , which at best represents only moment , a phase of existence , should live on . Celia Thaxter stood among the ﬁrst women writers in the coun

w as she try , and it through her published writings that

1 62 J OHN ALBEE

w as n n k own to her contemporaries . If e w anyone wishes n o T to k ow her , he will g to her books . here he will ﬁnd

a small part of her , and it will be an essential and veri t table part , a faithful embodiment of her mind , her insigh s N as as . ot and interests , far it goes there , however . will he ﬁnd the inward struggles , which , could they be known

in all their completeness , would be of more worth than many volumes . We amuse ourselves with literature and

v miss the lessons of li es which create it .

T w a s Celia haxter born in Portsmouth , and when four T L e his years old her father , homas ighton , removed family S to the Isles of hoals , he to become the keeper of the

L . H White Island ighthouse ere on this bit of land , White A T Island , and at ppledore , Celia haxter spent her early

i s if h as years . It doubtful s e so much heard in those S in stitu years of church , unday school or other religious Sh h tions or instruction . e may have heard the ell on the little meeting house of Gosport , but it called no member

f He r as o . w her family to prayer father a great doubter , — his own a man who did thinking strong and independent , ‘ with an iron will , a good and persevering hater of most

Y et his su n accepted ideas . withal he had a softer side ; sometimes broke thr ough the storm clouds of the godless

H e n ot so as h as isle . was despotic and rugged he often

e been painted . I rem emb r very well my ﬁrst talk with S him . I approached him with trepidation , expecting ome

as sa sort of rebuff . I w young and had nothing to y , but

w a his . s inquisitive , and terrors attracted me I went to him i n with a curious ﬂower in my hand , on the pretext of

i . w as quiring ts name It a pimpernel , the national flower A h is of the republic of ppledore , the flower to which daughter Celia addressed her very first unanswerable ques

1 63 THE HEA VENLY G UES T

ti on in gs. It pleased him t o give its name and its habits ; and , proceeding from this , he described pretty much the

. H whole ﬂora of the island aving , I suppose , found me a

n o w . good listener , he talked on other matters forgotten I received and have retained the impression that he was a man with a remarkable memory and vigorous intel l e c tual powers but exercised in a rather narrow sphere an d with an independence sometimes amounting to perverse ness in all of which characteristics his daughter resembled

b e him ; but in her they were modified and refined , first ,

she a e x cause was woman , and second because of her tra o rdin a ry desire and capacity f o r self - cultivation in b e whatever her enthusiastic nature was interested , and

o f cause her greater intellectual development , which was gained by association with writers , artists and musicians . With all that was high and ﬁne sh e had a natural spiritual affinity ; and this , coupled with her inherited force of character , was the secret of her powerful attraction and

He r inﬂuence . strong individuality asserted itself in her

so w earliest childhood , when she began to what she after ward abundantly reaped . In the absolute seclusion from

sh e the world , sowed with nature and her own childish musings and fancies ; one small blade of grass was dear

o f to her , and a flower in the seams the ledges gave her he unspeakable joy . S once showed me where she used to “ ” N she . find them . ever any such pure delight since , said It was inevitable that later her poetry and prose should he o . S all be col ored by her love for nature sang of fl wers , she o f he painted them , and finally the cultivation them h as a . s e w came her passion Wherever , and at every se son

o u o of the year , y would ﬁnd ﬂ wers , generally cultivated He r was by her own hand . love for them no common

164

THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

sh e upon her in childhood and girlhood , and to which was

m . The always obedient , began to be dim ed light was still

n o there , doubt , as in the lighthouse tower when the fog

f o r in surrounds it , which a while it cannot penetrate ;

ff its e ectual bells and horns try to take place . In a word , the world with its demands and allurements broke in upon

u n the young maiden , the inexperienced , but inspired , n worldly , enthusiastic , handsome island wonder of sixtee .

A n early and romantic marriage , the sudden burdens of

n e w married life , the extreme discipline of a society , new

so manners and ideas , more work and care than one young w as ﬁtted to endure , wrought a change in her character Th and darkened the radiance of her springtime . e Wilding ﬂower transplanted lost something of that glowing color

i Y et and long continuing dew of t s island home . there w as n e ver any time or situation in which she did not t T devote herself o the comfort and happiness of others . his constituted her lifelo n g effort among those with whom her

h e domestic and social life w as cast . S could forget her

sh e t o self and all might prefer to do , cook you a dinner , t o o r make a shirt or a shroud , to write a comforting letter

She n o to some friend in afﬂiction . took time for her self that could o r ought to be given to others . In order that her literary work might not encroach upon her duties sh e usually did her writing in the early morning , from ’ She four o clock to seven , while others slept . seemed never to be idle ; sh e put aside or completed o n e work onl y

h do to take up another . S e always had somethin g to , yet h f o r wh o . s e time a friend , for all needed her Meanwhile thought her own thoughts and maintained her own private vocations , through which , with her interest in the intel

1 66 J OHN ALB EE

sh e lectual struggles going on in the world , accomplished her own illumination and power . T Many joys , sorrows and beliefs did Celia haxter pass t o f she w as Sh e hrough and out before ﬁfty years old . became the companion of authors and artists ; her life

w as . A its always full to the brim full tide , the spring at

sun its height , the at noon , everything in largest scope f o . and power , these seem to me the symbols her activities

H e r as c om rehen life impresses me something massive , p

m its sive and consistent with itself , fro beginning on a lone rock in the se a to the salon where she drew the

b . H wisdom , the wit and eauty of this and other lands ere sh h e knew o w t o play all the parts belonging to woman .

She could make the musician play his best , the poets and

sa — scholars y their best even Mr . Whittier could be viva n u — cio s and comm nicative bring forward the modest , shut

o n f an the door the vulgar , and disengage one talent rom

she other and give to each it s opportunity . If w as some it c on ﬁdin times imposed upon , was because of her g and h as ingenuous spirit . S e had suffered many of the stings

ff as she and bu etings of fortune others , yet never allowed

aw them t o obtrude or crave sympathy . I never s her other

. S wise than cheerful , and usually merry and gay ound

hearts are easily amused . There were always persons in her salon and circle

wh o t o an d wh o wished know her , ﬂattered themselves that

they did . Men and women in the summer weather and

idle days opened their hearts to her , and thereby supposed they had established an exclusive claim upon her sym T pathics . here were naturally , in consequence , jealousies and heartburnings ; and Appledore seldom saw a season

its without little tragedy , or more often , to the disinterested

167 THE HEAVENLY G UES T

spectator , the comedy of human passions and frailties was amusingly rehearsed in the bower of the island queen b e fore a select company of her knights and ladies - in - wait H ing . andsome and accomplished maidens were happy — t o touch the hem o f her dress to hold her hand w as — u t heaven and their lovers , if they would prosper , m s se e worship the same shrine . T o Celia Thaxter so sur

rounded by her ﬂowers , lovers , pictures , books , and

m u si c souvenirs , to listen to the speech and of her gifted

friends , was the most picturesque and exciting spectacle

aff orded in this part of the country . But like all things

w as o u of that nature , when it over and y had gone awa y v it did not seem so ﬁne and grand . I dare say , howe er , ’ that t o some it remains in the memory the chief jo y of

r M rs. T their lives . I prefe red haxter in less pomp and

circumstance , in fewer adjectives and superlatives . In her salon I heard for the ﬁrst time a number of new ex pl e tiv es f o r , such as had become indispensable the heights to A m which admiration often arose . d iration is the hardest

o -f all moods with which to keep pace , and though I ﬂat te re d myself that I kn ew the right terms for a number o f

tim e I ideas and impressions , in a short found myself out of breath and with that drawn feeling in the muscles of the face which accompan ies the effectual effort to respond

- M rs . to the extravagant speech o f another . I have heard

T o haxter often talk ver , when the season was past , these

o f he r assemblies the chosen ones in summer salon , and es expr s her varying feelings regarding them , recalling at

on o o f e time her enj yment them , at another the annoyances and the emb arrassments in keeping in order the various characters and tempers of her coterie of geniuses and

s On S he . T beautie . the whole , succeeded very well here

. were no duels , no animosities that refused to heal From

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THE HEA VENL Y G UES T more through private sources than public and thankful f o r honest criticism and help . I know of none who gave such unlimited admiration and encouragement t o other writers

he n as she did . S may ot be classed with the greatest

she H e r writers ; had , however , the soul of the poet . associations and sympathies were n ot alone with the cul tu re d and famous men and women of her time ; there were other opportunities and outlets for them , equally strong

so and full , even more in the maturer years of her life , he with the humble and unknown . S was no sequestered

attic he writer in an nor in a luxurious boudoir study . S w as n ot - n he a white ha ded lady . S toiled at every kind of labor known to working women ! and on this account as well as from the natural impulses of h er heart she could e enter by an always open door the hous s of the sick , the

She f or poor , the troubled and overburdened . was good

- e love broken hearts , of whom ther was always a contingent n T n ot at the Shoals in the summer seaso . hese she did

sh weep with ; e tried to make them brave and reasonable . But for the poor and lowly sh e had nothing save tender h . S e words in their distresses , and a helping hand was

in a n called in at birth and death , and all y way associated f o r in tim ate with her l e aned upon her in the day of trouble .

u wh o Th s did this woman , was a poet with poets , an artist

’ with artists , and the compeer of all those who constitute the cultivated classes , seem equally at home in their sur

o roundings r at her needle and knitting , or with spade and trowel in her island gardens , or with ﬁshermen and their t o o r wives and children or as a nurse the sick , at the bed

- she side of the lying in or the dying . Thus did enlarge o ut her life , broaden and round it , and prepare it for that spiritual light which at last rewarded her with its hope and its promise . 1 70 J OHN ALBEE — She had loved nature from the beginning not ad mi rin l sh g y only , but ardently ; not because e had been taught but through some uncommon intuitive sense she was

t o able feel her relationship to it ; and very early , when

she not more than ten years old , began to reﬂect and to a sk h deep questions of the ﬂ“owers . S e says in her book Am o n the I sl es o Sho al s E g f , ver I longed to speak these

so t o things that made life sweet , speak the wind , the cloud , ’ ’ ” she the bird s ﬂight , the sea s murmur ; emphasizes the

s a h word p e k . S e meant that she wished to interpret and

o f so communicate all the voices nature that spoke much , — so t o t o . mysteriously , herself put them into form It was h ac not many years ere s e began to do so . Although an curate observer , and appearing to see a dozen things m m she where the co on observer saw only one , was not a

so she e x trained naturalist ; and found her speech , her

. T pression , in poetry hus was another path opened to the heavenly vision . For the writing of poetry implies an impulse toward high thoughts , and it necessarily brings

- with it a great deal of self cultivation , reﬂection , imagi ‘ a in nation , sympathy with the common aspirations and stin cts o f f o r of - humanity , all which there is no text book , master nor university . When the true poet attains ease in the merely structural composition of verse , he is blest with an insight and power of ex pression which is as much a revelation to himself as to the reader . It was thus that Celia Thaxter gained a n ew elevation and greatly enlarged the natural limitations of her world . Though there were some other inﬂuences surrounding

t o her , which were adverse the full acceptance of spiritual

f she of views o life and death , mingled with a group bril

e n o f liant m n a d women , most whom did not believe in

1 7 1 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

its o the church and d ctrines , and some of whom were

s avowed materialists . It w a in the fulness of the Tran sc e n den t al N w movement , which had broken with old e E ngland traditions and beliefs , although it preached high thinking and noblest living and combined in it self most of the intellectual activities of the time . A little later the theory of evolution , the new view of the origin of man , startled the world ; and it s hasty and impatient disciples

w as thought it all over with the Creator and immortality .

M rs T I do not think . haxter took a very deep interest in these matters ; but sh e w a s under the personal and s o cial

s he t o inﬂuence of tho e who did . S did not pretend o kn w sh e he e t o s . prof ssed rather not know , and rested in that H e r mind w as intuitive rather than logical ; she liked not

o r n she w as s to argue reaso , and perfectly hone t and some i n She im times almost deﬁant her convictions . might be

o f t o o patient contradictions , or little considerate of the beliefs and opinions of others ; but n o one ever doubted

A f ar sh s . s as e aw her sincerity the light , she was loyal

. Sh e w a s to it of such a generous , exuberant nature that what sh e enjoyed and any n e w light w hich she came to h T s e wished to share with her friends . here was a time when sh e eagerly desired that they should share her belief

e in spiritualism , th osophy , and other metaphysical and psyc hical revelations which in recent years hav e proclaimed

s n e s themselves a w gospels . One almo t came to believe that the ardor with which she espoused novel ideas was a sign of their permanent hold upon her ; but they were merely phases , steps in her progress to ﬁrmer and more positive

c faith . When at last her spiritual vision be ame clear she w s she w a a calm ; s less anxious to talk about it , to excite he o u . S your enthusiasm , to make a convert of y had the

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THE HEA VENL Y G UES T books on immortality ; the reading and hearing of the more spiritual side of the teachings o f theosophy and psychical T science . hese were the outward means and helps in her Y e progress . t I cannot help thinking these were more a p i s parent than real . It not after all the inﬂuences we An can name and classify that make us what we become . ’ n ot other and subtler inﬂuence works in man s soul , arti ! culate, not calculable and when he is not disobedient to

its heavenly vision , it conducts along the true path to the

. T goal of perfect light It was decreed that Mrs . haxter ,

by her sympathy with nature , by her poetic soul , by the un w o rldli integrity of her intellectual perceptions , by her n o ness and helpfulness to her kind , matter under what

inﬂuences , adverse or favorable , should ﬁnd in the end the

of . faith , the consolation and the repose an immortal spirit That which in her youth had led her to the sources of all

beauty in her later years led her t o the sources of truth .

He r t o ﬁrst instinctive response the spirit of nature , her f o r intense love every manifestation of life , her ﬁrst child ish acceptance o f her place in the universe as she waited of in the darkness on the rocks , were the early tokens what afterwards broadened and deepened into spiritual

repose . Intimations that nature is all one , that each has

his appointed life and place , that the soul need fear ex nothing , dawned upon her in youth , and life with its perien c es and growth served only to strengthen and t o b e illumine this truth . That which was ﬁrst instinctive s came later an abiding faith . Pa sing through and beyond

the various phases of conﬂicting beliefs , as if they were so she many barriers , to spiritual freedom , came into the

broad open , into a clear vision of the simple truth that

she was a beloved child of her Creator . JOHN ALB EE 1 74 A LE TTER

A LETTER FROM C ELIA THAXTER TO H ER SON JOHN

S Isles of hoals ,

27 th 1 873 . March ,

MY DARLING B OY

w as t o e I rejoiced get your brief not , but what rub ’ bish it is for you t o say you hadn t one minute in which

to write to your only mother , in the course of a whole ’ o ! son m nth My , allow me to mildly state that I don t — ’ believe a word of it th o you may ﬂatter yourself that it

. e o f is true I had a lett r from father this morning , but t o Al l T o ee . course you did . s ms to go well with them hey are farther south in Florida by this time . ’ ﬁ en d s own O J ohn , my dear , we have had the month of March ! Such a disastrous four weeks never was known x The in our e perience at the Shoals . storm of last week has never been approached in violence since the great ’ tempest that carried away Minot s Le dge Light twenty - ﬁv e h a o . T e years g and more . It was indescribably furious poor Lone Star sank at her moorings and she is probably ! N gone , poor , proud , old faithful craft ight before last

D o came another fearful tempest . m and I could hardly

o f u s so ou r . sleep for the thunder it , it shook in beds ’ Y b e esterday morning at eight o clock , broad daylight , it H ing foggy and a heavy sea still running , a ermaphrodite Wh brig struck on the outer rocks of ite Island , a breaker carried away a portion of her stern and dro wned ﬁv e m en th e then and there . Then breakers pitched her upon L ondoners , drove her fairly over and over , smashed her

175 THE HEA VENL Y G UES T

all up , broke her in two halves , drowned three more men h and there left her . T e mate alone escaped o f a crew of

. He h o w nine says he knows not he came ashore , he found himself lying there on the beach , banged and pounded and

o f bruised , the brig a mass bristling timbers , the masts

f o r clean vanished out of sight , the sails beaten into pulp

his the paper mill , comrades all gone ; poor fellow , what a fearful plight ! Y o u know there is a deserted shanty on the island ; he crept to that , found a stove and fuel within l and lit a ﬁre . A l this time the fog was so thick no on e here knew of the disaster . At noon it lifted and from Star

he e the people saw the smoke and went over . T great v ssel w as so throughly destroyed a s n ot t o be visible from any distance . Tw o leaves from her log book ﬂoated over here ; they were written last summer when sh e w as on a voyage

A N B . from nnapolis , . , to Barbadoes . One of her great ! mast hoops came over too . I am afraid of the beaches There are eight dead m en ﬂoating about these melancholy L rocks . Pip and Charlie went over to ondoners last night — Al l ’ at sunset we did not discover it till then . Poor s gang e S of workm n from tar were there , and the mate of the vessel , giving instructions to save all he could , cables , f o r hi s anchors , iron , etc . , and looking dead mates among

The w as the rocks and weeds . brig forty days out from

L f or . iverpool loaded with salt , Boston Of course , her cargo h as helped t o ﬂavor the brine . I wish so much to g o over to Londoners and look at

is . the wreck , but there too much man over there I must wait till the excitement h as subsided and the rock i s de serted ; then the gulls and I will have it all to ourselves . ’ I can t tell you ho w shocked and solemnized we were with D om . w as t o o y . it all , last night It hideousl near Poor

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