I want to include my readers in the newest adventure Matt and I are embarking upon--researching a mystery poem. Here's the background:
Our church library has been giving away old books for free on a table outside our Sunday School classroom. A couple of weeks ago, I snagged an awesome hardback copy of "Alice in Wonderland" that has check out dates spanning from the 40s to the 60s. There was also this book called "Via Vitae" (the way of life?) that looked cool, and sounded familiar, but I decided against it because I wasn't exactly sure what it was about, and in comparison to Alice, an obvious classic, it ended up being overlooked. But this past Sunday, Matt and I looked over the books again as we were leaving, and Matt picked that one up. He flipped to the back for some reason, and there on the blank pages of the end was a handwritten poem in classic cursive that looked totally vintage. Having to take some time to decipher a few words, we read the poem slowly, and I think it made an even bigger impression because of that. I will therefore post a scanned picture of the poem, and hopefully you will be able to read most of it from that, which I would encourage, before reading the typed out version that I will also post:
- The Mystery Poem
I know, it's big. Otherwise it would be impossible to read. I don't know if you can click on it to open in a new page, since my blog is in columns and that might make it too small to see? Anyway, here is Matt's and my translation:
With You Away
They tell me that the spring still comes
Along her olden way,
As winsomely, as silverly
As Spring of yesterday;
That still beside the lilied pools
Her misty dryads play,
And Pan among the river reeds
Still flutes his Roundelay.
They tell me that the summer comes,
With all her throbbing stir of drums;
That still they watch the little rains
Go by on silver feet,
And see the curling, hissing winds
That skip along the wheat.
But, love my love, the silver June,
The wanton gold of May,
They fall on darkened eyes for me -
With you away!
They tell me that the autumn comes
In smoky amethyst,
With clouded, jeweled sullen days
Like opals in a mist;
That still the wild geese cleave the sky
With yearning, fleeing wings,
And overstrung, the shrill wind snaps
Like tightened violin strings
And then the winter comes, they say
Ice-fanged and lean and wolfish-gray;
And cruel-cold, they tell me, too,
For those outside the door,
When ruddy-warm the firelight drips
Like wine along the floor.
And listening, ah, love, my love
I smile at what they say,
What winters have they known like mine -
With you away?
The word "roundelay" gave us a little trouble, but we finally figured it out - a roundelay (from Rondelet perhaps, a type of poetry) is a sort of song.
Isn't it a gorgeous poem? Beautiful imagery, and in remembering the past year when Matt was away, it seemed like a poem written for us and the pain of missing someone dearly. I thought the poem sounded familiar, and certainly the style is, so Matt took the book home and tried to look it up.
We cannot find it anywhere.
There are lots of phrases in poetry that come close to some of these, but then, this poem references a lot of classic poetic themes, so that's not really a surprise. I had a suspicion when I first saw it that it might be original, but ... it is just so good! It is hard to believe such a great poem, in my opinion, has lasted so long undiscovered, but you know, that even kind of adds to the romance. I like to imagine that either a man wrote this poem in the back of the book when he gave it to the woman he loved and was going to be away from for a time, or, a woman missing her love jotted it there while reading the book.
More information about the book itself and our speculations on who might have written the mystery poem:
The book was written by S. Slater Jr. in 1917, and our copy has a handwritten date inside--February 23, 1918. The name on the front page says Mary Esther Bacon, and we assume she wrote the poem (the handwriting looks similar, although I also like the idea that a guy wrote it for her in the back of the book). Also in the book was a little slip of paper. It is a paper encouraging people to give money to United War Work Campaign. It has a letter printed on the back from President Woodrow Wilson from September 3, 1918, encouraging support of troops, and it says that the Vermont quota is $471, 705. I'm not sure how our book got from Vermont to Missouri and to our church library!
I'm very excited about our mystery poem and wanted to share it with everyone. I think the poem is just awesome. Now, maybe my judgment is a little skewed because this poem offered such a nice reprieve from the depressing stuff in my American Realists and Naturalists class and Modern American Poetry (which I love but can also be depressing in large amounts), but Matt thought it was a beautiful poem too, and I hope you all like it too. I'm going to show the poem to my poetry professor tomorrow, I think. I'll get back to you if I find out anything interesting regarding the mystery of our poem!
Thanks for reading,
Elizabeth
