LONESOME BAR; A ROMANCE OF THE LOST AND OTHER POEMS - 1909 - CONTENTS - AN INKLING . FEY . LoNBSOME BAR THE WRONG WAY . THE RIME OF JACQUES VALBBAU ON BEACON HILL . THE CHILCOOT PASS UNDBRGROUND . THB MOONLIT WHEAT . THE JEWEL THAT CAME . IN A NORTHERN LANS . NOCTURNE THS WANTON YACHT IDLBWILD GDGAR AI, I, AN PO8 . IN THB NIGHT IMPALPABLB OCTOBER . COQUITLAM THb VETERAN . THAT OTHER ONE . MOTHER . HARD TIMES NO MORB . PAGE 9 . 11 I7 37 43 65 73 . . 81 91 94 95 THE DREAM OF THE DEEP ILLUMINED THE WAY OF BEAUTY THE BUTTERFLY IN ERRANTRY . TO WALT WHITMAN . THE SEER NIRVANA . THE CLUE CONTENT . THE TOMB THE DAMOZEL OF DOOM . THE VALLEYS OF RGLIBF . CACTUS . FORTY LONE WOLF LAMENT CHINATOWN CHANT . LAUGHTER YOLANA . IN AMBER LANDS . THE LAST SONG AN I N K L I N G HRO my uncertain heart a moody tide T Of mere emotion evermore doth steal, Fleckt with shining passions that appeal Por solace that is evermore denied. But as the waters that elusive glide Thro lonely forests doubtful yet reveal Some Ocean faith-so unafraid I feel To test with Death this heart unsatisfied. And from that tide thro late haphazard years Ive gatherd crystalld words sometimes-like these Things marvelld out from many memories -Uncanny songs, wherein withal one hears Some overtone of happier melodies, Or rhythm falling from enchanted spheres. F E Y I. P from a sea that was Celtic, U On a midsummer night of old, A fairy rose in the moonlight Where the swooning waters rolld To a crag that was crownd with a castle, Irregular, round and high-The castle bold, embattled, Of days gone by. 11. And a piper paced the ramparts In his own clan-tartan clad, With the ancient arms accoutred That his fathers father had And the pipes that he playd were chanting Of valor and Highland pride-To the tune of them kings had conquerd, And heroes died. 111. Tho only a lad come twenty, He could hold with any man, And well was he taught in the music, And well could he lead his clan And the gallant air he was playing He playd as never before-Then he ceased and drew from its scabbard His bright claymore. And he waved it aloft, exulting In the promise of coming years, And feats of arms and glory Got from the shock of spears Ah the glint of that jewelld claymore That his fathers father had- Twill be handled with honor surely By that gay lad v. But 0, my Bonnie, my Bonnie What sound is this in thine ears, That no man nor maid in the castle Nor drousing warder hears What music around thee is rising What orient notes unknown 0 out on the sea what is singing By the lone-by the lone In a maze he listeud unmoving Thro the long sweet summer-night To the song of the water-kelpie, Till the moon sank out of sight And the kitchen maids of the castle Found him, at break of day, As they thought, on the ramparts, drunken He was fey-he was fey And the thrall of a lordly ambition, And the combat for lands and gold, And titles and trinkets of honor, And things that are bought and sold, 0 thereafter he held them so lightly But aye as he went on his way, Of a song he would be singing He was fey-he was fey VIII. The chieftain of all most gentle, Most ready with loyal sword, But not in the years did he prosper, And he faild of the Worlds reward His king gave his lands to a stranger, And his lady was faithless, they say And he died in a battle, forgotten-Well-a-d ay-well-a-day Comes something akin to a feeling That no language of men can define, Not to one in a million revealing Its meaning by symbol or sign, But told of in Sagas and olden Legends of longing and weir-A sound in a silence too golden For many to hear... --This text refers to the Paperback edition.