IMMORTAL, a poem

HOW living are the dead!
Enshrined, but not apart,
How safe within the heart
We hold them still—our dead,
Whatever else be fled!

Our constancy is deep
Toward those who lie asleep,
Forgetful of the strain and mortal strife
That are so large a part of this our earthly life.

They are our very own:
From them—from them alone,
Nothing can us estrange—
Nor blight autumnal, no; nor wintry change!

The midnight moments keep
A place for them; and though we wake to weep,
They are beside us: still, in joy, in pain—
In every crucial hour, they come again,
Angelic from above—
Bearing the gifts of blessing and of love—
Until the shadowy path they lonely trod
Becomes for us a bridge that upward leads to God.

"Immortal" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in Harper's Monthly Magazine (January 1911), The Unconquered Air (1912) and Poems (1916) Volume II.

KINDRED, a poem

TENDER grass in April springing,
     Scent of lilacs wet with rain,
Bluebird jubilantly singing
     Snatches of a loved refrain,

Falcon soaring high above me,
     Light of stars in deeps divine,
Creeping earth-bound things that move me
     To compassion, ye are mine!

Wind in varied cadence playing
     Mystic runes on harps unseen,
Blossom hardily delaying
     Where lost summer late hath been,

Shadow drifting o'er the mountain,
     Mist blown inward from the sea,
Hidden spring and bubbling fountain,—
     Ye are mine and parts of me!

What am I? The stars have made me,
     And the dust to which I cleave,
Rivers, and the hills that aid me,
     Past and future, morn and eve,

Nightshade lightly plucked unknowing,
     Roses fondly twined with rue,
Harvestings of mine own sowing,
     And from fields I never knew!

I have gained mid loss and capture
     Strength not found in vanquishing,
Sharing oft the mounting rapture,
     Trailing oft the broken wing;

Kindred with the sunlight streaming
     Where nor dew nor rain-drop gleams,
With the parchèd desert dreaming
     Incommunicable dreams,

Laid in cavern-bed at even,
     Throned on rose-flushed Apennine—
Multitudinous earth and heaven,
     Naught ye hold that is not mine!

"Kindred" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in Harper's Monthly Magazine (November 1908), Lyrics of Life (1909) and Poems (1916) Volume I.

On this day in 1830

Ellen Frances VAN LEER Earle, mother of Florence Earle Coates, was born on 5 April 1830, having descended from a family long members of the Society of Friends. Mrs. Earle died on 19 May 1892 in Germantown, PA. See also: "Mother"

Original image and retouch. Original courtesy of Florence Earle Morrisey,
from the scrapbook of Frances Earle Johnson (sister of Mrs. Coates).

WOULDST THOU LEARN, a poem

WOULDST thou learn what coldness is,
     Seek it not where Hebrus flows,
Shuddering, to the abyss;
     Nor where Hermon's gleaming snows,
     On its frozen heights, repose;
But on such a morn as this,
     When no blade of grass is dumb,
When the birds, low-twittering, build,
And Earth's heart is passion-thrill'd,—
     Come to Love's deserted home!

"Wouldst thou learn" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in Poems (1898) and Poems (1916) Volume II.

POOR ICARUS, a poem

The Fall of Icarus
Wikimedia Commons

POOR Icarus!—to soar so high,
Then fall! For you 't was vain to try
     By cunning craft, on faithless wings,
     To capture empyrean things,
That still to men the Fates deny!

Yet, even knowing Death so nigh,
Had you reluctant been to fly
     Beyond earth's sure, safe harborings,—
          Poor Icarus?

I think not so. All, all must die!
But you the pathways of the sky
     Found first, and tasted heavenly springs,
     Unfettered as the lark that sings,
And knew strange raptures,—though we sigh:
          "Poor Icarus!"

"Poor Icarus" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in The Unconquered Air (1912) and Poems (1916) Volume II.

APRIL, a poem

SWELLING bud and fond suggestion,
     Wafting of perfume,
Tearful rapture, thrilling question
     Of restraint or bloom,
Life all dreamlessly asleeping,
     As in death, but now,
Upward to the sunlight creeping,—
     April, that is thou!

Mystery's authentic dwelling,
     Faith's expanding wing,
Maiden loveliness foretelling
     Fuller blossoming,
Prophet of the new creation,
     Priestess of the bough,
Month of the imagination,—
     April, that is thou!

"April" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine (April 1908), Lyrics of Life (1909) and Poems (1916) Volume II.

IN APRIL, a poem

WHEN beeches bud and lilacs blow,
     And Earth puts on her magic green;
When dogwoods bear their vernal snow
     And skies grow deep the stars between,—
Then, O ye birds! awake and sing
The gladness at the heart of Spring!

When flowers blossom for the poor,
     And Nature heals the hurt of years,
When wondering Love resists the cure,
     Yet hopes again, and smiles through tears,—
Then, O ye birds! awake and sing
The gladness at the heart of Spring!

"In April" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in Poems (1898) and Poems (1916) Volume I.