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Songs of "Scriba"
The Elusive Muse
Ah, fair elusive little Muse!
Betimes I fain would you embrace;
I beckon, but you e'er refuse,
And hide from me your smiling face..
Betimes I fain would you embrace;
I beckon, but you e'er refuse,
And hide from me your smiling face..
Ah, fleeting fairy! Saucy sprite!
At dusk, when stars illume the skies,
Through rustling flowers, sweet sounds of night,
There comes a voice—hark, a surprise!
At dusk, when stars illume the skies,
Through rustling flowers, sweet sounds of night,
There comes a voice—hark, a surprise!
Why haunt the bard with cruel wiles?
In your heart sorrow has no place;
False is your voice, false are your smiles;
The poet you would fain disgrace.
In your heart sorrow has no place;
False is your voice, false are your smiles;
The poet you would fain disgrace.
The plague of bards, since time was young,
You dance and flirt, but ne'er will wed;
Though brain with fond regard be stung,
You laugh and shake your curly head.
You dance and flirt, but ne'er will wed;
Though brain with fond regard be stung,
You laugh and shake your curly head.
When all is still, within, without,
You come with accents soft and low.
Our eager glance we cast about;
But ere we spy you—off you go!
You come with accents soft and low.
Our eager glance we cast about;
But ere we spy you—off you go!
1918
On My Ninetieth Birthday, February 10, 1921
O fleeting Time, whose rapid wing,
Such stores of joy and grief can bring!
Though darkling clouds oft shade the way,
The silvery side e'er speaks of May!
Such stores of joy and grief can bring!
Though darkling clouds oft shade the way,
The silvery side e'er speaks of May!
Revolving Time, how vast thine age,
Beyond the ken of seer or sage!
Thou saw'st the billows first arise;
And new-born mountains felt thine eyes.
Beyond the ken of seer or sage!
Thou saw'st the billows first arise;
And new-born mountains felt thine eyes.
And now, when mellow Nature knows
Th' alternate sway of sun and snows;
When fragrant flowers and bracing cold
Pursue each other round the wold;
Th' alternate sway of sun and snows;
When fragrant flowers and bracing cold
Pursue each other round the wold;
We own thy power, and cherish dear
The friends thou spar'st us, year to year;
The rich, the poor, the sage, the saint,
Whose pulsing handclasp ne'er grows faint.
The friends thou spar'st us, year to year;
The rich, the poor, the sage, the saint,
Whose pulsing handclasp ne'er grows faint.
Though silver locks proclaim the space
We've traveled in the gradual race,
Our faltering steps shall tread the way,
While faith illumes the close of day!
We've traveled in the gradual race,
Our faltering steps shall tread the way,
While faith illumes the close of day!
1921
23
