Soaked through with the midnight the cedars were sleeping, Their shadowy tresses outlined in the bright Crystal, moon-smitten mists, where the fountain's heart, leaping Forever, forever burst, full with delight; And its lisp on my spirit Fell faint as that near it Whose love like a lily bloomed out in the night. O your glove was an odorous sachet of blisses! The breath of your fan was a breeze from Cathay! And the rose at your throat was a nest of spilled kisses!-- And the music!--in fancy I hear it to-day, As I sit here, confessing Our secret, and blessing My rival who found us, and waltzed you away. [Illustration: That night--tailpiece] {170} [Illustration: To Almon Keefer--headpiece] TO ALMON KEEFER INSCRIBED IN "TALES OF THE OCEAN" This first book that I ever knew Was read aloud to me by you-- Friend of my boyhood, therefore take It back from me, for old times' sake-- The selfsame "Tales" first read to me, Under "the old sweet apple tree," Ere I myself could read such great Big words,--but listening all elate, At your interpreting, until Brain, heart and soul were all athrill With wonder, awe, and sheer excess Of wildest childish happiness. {171} [Illustration: Under "the old sweet apple tree"] {173} So take the book again--forget All else,--long years, lost hopes, regret; Sighs for the joys we ne'er attain, Prayers we have lifted all in vain; Tears for the faces seen no more, Once as the roses at the door! Take the enchanted book--And lo, On grassy swards of long ago, Sprawl out again, beneath the shade The breezy old-home orchard made, The veriest barefoot boy indeed-- And I will listen as you read. [Illustration: To Almon Keefer--tailpiece] {174} [Illustration: To the quiet observer--headpiece] TO THE QUIET OBSERVER AFTER HIS LONG SILENCE Dear old friend of us all in need Who know the worth of a friend indeed, How rejoiced are we all to learn Of your glad return. {175} We who have missed your voice so long-- Even as March might miss the song Of the sugar-bird in the maples when They're tapped again. Even as the memory of these _Blended_ sweets,--the sap of the trees And the song of the birds, and the old camp too, We think of you. Hail to you, then, with welcomes deep As grateful hearts may laugh or weep!-- You give us not only the bird that sings, But all good things. [Illustration: To the quiet observer--tailpiece] {176} [Illustration: Reach your hand to me--headpiece] REACH YOUR HAND TO ME Reach your hand to me, my friend, With its heartiest caress-- Sometime there will come an end To its present faithfulness-- Sometime I may ask in vain For the touch of it again, When between us land or sea Holds it ever back from me. {177} [Illustration: Reach your hand to me, my friend] {179}