www.romancatholicism.org

 




RIDDLE AND REVERIE

 

BY

 

Leonard Feeney, S. J.

 

NEW YORK

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

1933

 

To

MY FATHER

 


 

 

CONTENTS

 

The Gold I Have Gathered

The Dove

I Burned My Bridges

The Gift of Tears

Spring Carol

Reflection

Small Fry

My Window

Brief Litany

Sheep Ritual

At the Fireplace

Joy in Heaven

Mouse Trap

Moth Memories

The First Day of Creation

Problem

The Street Sprinklers

Poor Turkey

Pray for Me

Inevitable Rendezvous

Simplification

The Piano Tuner

Blind Man’s Poem

The Prisoner

Buzz, a Book Review

Ferverino in a Fruit Store

The Organ Blower

Aspiration

The Milkman

A Munster Memory

Nightly Outrage

Not Every Little Mary

Danny’s First Communion

Simple Simony

Grandmother Lou

Magnificence

The Children

Sara Finn

Betty’s Birthday

A Matter for Calculus

Jeremy

The Little Red Rosary

The Marriage Makers

Nice Surprise

Mrs. Whittle

Bessie

Obsequies in Ebony

Noel

Wind Requiem

To a Young Poet

Farewell to Oxford

The Frost

To Our Blessed Lord at the Pillar

Epilogue

 

 


 

 

THE GOLD I HAVE GATHERED

 

The gold I have gathered I mined in my mind,

The beautiful beauty God helped me to find.

 

The wonderful wonder I hoard in my head,

I said I will share it with someone: I said

 

I will put in a poem an inkling in ink

Of the love that I live by, the truth that I think.

 

And the wealth of my wisdom I thought I could tell,

My hunger for Heaven, my horror of Hell,

 

With some poor little scribbles I make with a pen.

No fancy THAT, ladies and gentlemen!

 

 

THE DOVE

 

Learn from a little dove,

The Holy Spirit’s symbol,

The qualities of love,

And what it must resemble.

 

Notice its note will vary

At different seasons, —

A wild bird, and a wary,

For different reasons.

 

When sunlight warms the roof,

And moonlight fills the nest,

Innocent, soft, aloof,

Unruffled and at rest.

 

But when the storm is raging:

Clawing, battling, crying;

A bird beyond all caging,

Furiously flying.

 


I BURNED MY BRIDGES

 

I burned my bridges when I had crossed.

I never brooded on what I lost,

Nor ruined with rapine my holocaust.

 

Youth is a rapture we must forget;

Wither and wrinkle without regret,

Hobble to Heaven and do not fret.

 

Yet in my soul there is something still

Deeper than memory, mind and will,

Something alive that I cannot kill.

 

Part of me, put not in my keeping,

Awakes unwakened when I am sleeping,

Under my laughter it goes on weeping

 

For bye-gone beaches and limbs of brown,

When hoops were rolling around the town,

And London Bridges were falling down.

 

 

THE GIFT OF TEARS

 

Never a rhyme I wrote or read

Could ever make me cry;

But a little brown fiddle

Sawed in the middle

Does, and I don’t know why.

 

 

SPRING CAROL

 

My little joy, my sweet joy,

I wish I could romance it;

I wish I had a light foot

Deft enough to dance it,

Or pictures to portray it,

Or syllables to say it,

Or wind enough to fill a flute

And play it.

 


REFLECTION

 

When we were young and you were fond

Of rolling pebbles in a pond,

Remember how we waded out

And looked and found without a doubt

Our pictures near a silver school

Of little fishes in a pool?

 

Though round the world the rivers go

And into fussy fountains flow,

Our pictures shall remain

When waters rest again.

The mirror in the well will not

Forget us when we are forgot.

 

 

SMALL FRY

 

I went fishing for a rhyme

In the babble of a brook

And a merry little minnow

Nibbled at my hook,

And here’s the pretty fellow

Bouncing in a book.

 

 

MY WINDOW

 

I lock my window tight,

I bolt it with a bar,

Ever since the night

One memorable star

Came shining through,

And made unusually bright

My parallelogram of light,

My acre in the blue.

I cover my window too

With a dark curtain

So to be certain

No one else will try

To trespass with his eye

On my part of the sky.

 


BRIEF LITANY

 

Softly out of nowhere

Blows a summer breeze,

Wrinkling in the sunshine,

Trembling in the trees;

 

Swings a little trinket

Hanging in the air,

Keeps a penny pin-wheel

Twirling at a fair;

 

Starts a wee melodeon

Pumping in a flea,

Stops and drops a lobster

A bubble in the sea;

 

Turns into a tremolo,

Flows through a fife;

Lends a tiny hop-toad

A lungful of life;

 

Falters on the hill-top,

Tumbles down the glen,

Buries in a world

Without wind. Amen.

 


SHEEP RITUAL

 

Oh, you should have seen the miracle

I saw when I was in Wales,

Where myriads of sheep go munching up

And lunching down the dales;

And they graze along the meadow march,

And nibble around the mill,

Cross the bridges over the brook,

Bleat and eat and fill

Their bellies full of blossoms;

Then lie awhile and sleep.

Then slowly up the slope again,

And slowly down the steep,

Their little mouths meandering on,

Bit by bite they pull,

Inch by inch, the sweet grass

While all the beautiful

Valleys of Wye from stream to sky

Are turning into wool.

 

 

AT THE FIREPLACE

 

The mulberry logs are covered with flame

And lacquered with light they burn.

The trick of the blazing mulberry logs

In the grate, is my great concern: —

 

How all this essence of fiery juice

And fiber and gnarl and knot

Is not transmuted to whistle and multiple

Crackle and pistol shot.

 

The mulberry logs, so stiff and tough,

Substantial, and hard and round,

Astound me, vanishing — save for an ounce

Of ash — into so much sound.

 

 

JOY IN HEAVEN

 

Jesus clapped His little hands

And Mary lit a star

When I helped an old lady with bundles

Onto a trolley car.

 


MOUSE TRAP

 

I never kill a caught mouse

Nor drown him in a pail.

I always extricate him

And lift him by the tail,

 

And carefully release him

Into the hollow wall,

Because I do admire a mouse

Who is not sceptical;

 

Who keeps his faith in odors

That terminate in cheese,

And will not rob his little nose

Of all its certainties.

 

I loathe an apprehensive mouse

Whose phobia for traps

Reduces life’s philosophy

To “maybe” and “perhaps”;

 

Who holds that truth is relative,

Who disbelieves in smell,

And spreads despair in micedom

And turns it into Hell.

 

Give me a trustful little mouse

Who chisels in and out,

And grinds his way to surety

And chews away a doubt,

 

And turns my house to splinters

To satisfy his soul,

And breaks his gallant little neck

Exploring in a hole.

 


MOTH MEMORIES

 

God’s baby dew-moth dancing down the dawn,

Flitting from leaf to leaf along the lawn,

Squanders its dainty substance in the air

And leaves no sweet remembrance anywhere,

 

Save in some moody lady’s elegies

Concerning moths, mosquitoes, flies and fleas,

Who pouts in poems, like an owl or pigeon,

Her whit-tu-whu and jug-a-jug religion.

 

 

THE FIRST DAY OF CREATION

 

When God tried out His thunderbolts

And lightnings wildly lightened,

It frightens me to think there was

Nobody to be frightened.

 

 

PROBLEM

 

The white invisible angels

We clothe in queer disguises,

In wings and snowy night-gowns

To suit our strange surmises.

 

But how do they see in symbols

Of unethereal air

Old Pudgy, our parish fat man,

Puffing his little prayer?

 

 

THE STREET SPRINKLERS

 

When whistling teamsters down the hills

Their bubbling barrels drive again,

Scattering liquid whippoorwills

And thrushes from a rolling brush,

Our ears become alive again

Listening to the luscious noises.

Hosannas from the hoses rush

And all the air rejoices.

 


POOR TURKEY

 

The melancholy turkey cock,

Of every bird the laughing-stock,

Stands bewildered beside the barn

Endeavoring to gobble a yard of yarn,

And folds his foliage like a fan,

And pecks at popcorn in a pan,

And wobbles and winks and wonders why,

For all his feathers, he cannot fly,

Hysterically hiccuping

A little song he cannot sing.

 

 

PRAY FOR ME

 

Pray for me when I was small,

When I was two or three,

The night when nobody at all

Prayed for me;

 

When nobody knew they left me out

And lost me in the snow.

God help me when I tried to shout,

Long ago.

 

 

INEVITABLE RENDEZVOUS

 

Down at Oyster Graveyard

Sitting on a quay,

One afternoon in April

From three till half past three,

I felt so much emotion

I got the silly notion

That God made the ocean

From all eternity

Exclusively for me.

And I’d like to know exactly

Did He or didn’t He?

 


SIMPLIFICATION

 

Lucky for girls nimble with thimbles

Poems and plays are lies.

Love is as simple and sane as sewing,

A problem of hooks and eyes.

 

He had a hole in his Sunday stocking,

She with her needle mended it: —

That was the wonder of wife and woman,

That was the trick that ended it.

 

Lucky for dreamy organ grinders

And strolling umbrella menders;

Lucky for lonely deep-sea divers

And telephone-pole ascenders.

 

 

THE PIANO TUNER

 

Do, re, moo!

Do, re, meow!

Sounds so far

Like a cat or a cow.

 

Do, re, miff!

Do, re, muff!

Guess I haven’t

It tight enough.

 

Do, re, measles!

Do, re, mumps!

Turn it too tight

And back it jumps.

 

Do, re, (listen!)

Do re, MI!

There’s the little bird

I head in a tree!

 


BLIND MAN’S POEM

 

I’ve snapped all my fingers

And scratched all my hair.

I’m tired of being someplace

Sitting in a chair.

I think I shall get up now

And go to anywhere.

 

 

THE PRISONER

 

Monday I whistled a little.

Tuesday I whistled a lot.

 

Wednesday I whistled a little.

Thursday I have forgot.

 

Friday I whistled a little.

But not on Saturday.

 

Sunday I whistled a little;

The jailer came in to say:

 

“Hello,” and I whistled a little

After he went away.

 


BUZZ, A BOOK REVIEW

 

“Therefore the transition from a coloured shape to the notion of an object which can be used for all sorts of purposes which have nothing to do with colour, seems a very natural one and we . . . require careful training if we are to refrain from acting upon it.”

Professor Puffles.

 

Giddily in the garden

The little bee blows,

With wax on his waistcoat

And treacle on his toes,

And a noise in his nose;

Pausing at a pansy

And reposing on a rose.

 

Gee! But it must be jolly

For a bee to be a bee,

And to jab a juicy javelin

In a nice anemone

That has objectivity,

As arranged by Aristotle

In his strange philosophy.

 

Merrily in the meadow

This fuzzy fellow fills

His engine full of honey

On the sunny petal-sills

Of delicious daffodils,

With an illative indifference

To his inferential ills.

 

Really it must be rapture

To buss about the brink

Of a violet that is valid

Or an a priori pink,

Even though one’s color kink

Is the fruit of careless training

In thinking how to think.

 


FERVERINO IN A FRUIT STORE

 

Out of nothing God made each,

Made a poet, and made a peach.

God His nothings could confound,

Out of nothings switched around,

Make a bard

Green and hard;

Make a mellow

Fruit a fellow.

Neither would have known.

One would bother

With a rhyme,

And eat the other

Every time.

Skin and bone,

Or skin and stone: —

Praised be God, and God alone.

 

 

THE ORGAN BLOWER

 

That Mary, the Mother

Of Jesus may

Have a lovely hymn

On her festive day, —

 

That God Almighty

May be adored

With tuneful treble

And bass and chord, —

 

That music may mingle

With light and flower

On the hot June nights

At the Holy Hour, —

 

Humphry, the loon,

By the dusty rafter,

Sweats like an ox,

And he says, “I haf ter

Buy new galluses

The mornin’ after!”

 


ASPIRATION

 

Perched upon the gable

Above his lonely stable

(And this is not a fable),

 

A donkey saw a dove,

With whom he fell in love.

Oh what was he thinking of!

 

And its soft tickitacooing

Almost to his undoing

His wild heart went pursuing.

 

But a stout rope forefended

What nature never intended

And his white dream-flight ended.

 

This poem — breathe no word of it,

Nor bard, nor beast, nor bird of it: —

As though you never heard of it.

 

 

THE MILKMAN

 

When the one o’clock cock begins to crow

They drag him out of a dream,

And he stares at the stars in the Milky Way

And the meteors made of cream.

 

When the sky is a meadow of molten oats

Sickled with flaming steel,

He hitches his horse to a cart of cans

With a squeak in its wheezy wheel,

 

And under the twinkle of sundry suns

And miscellaneous moons,

His rattling bottles in sleepy lanes

Tinkle their lonely tunes.

 


A MUNSTER MEMORY

 

All I recall

(God help us all!)

Is a witless old woman

With shoes and a shawl

 

Who didn’t know when

She had counted to ten

In counting her nine

Baby chicks and a hen

 

And went crawling behind

In the bushes to find

The little one lost

In a hole in her mind.

 


NIGHTLY OUTRAGE

 

They draw the curtains,

And lock the door;

 

They keep it dark

From ten till four

 

At Small and Small’s

Department Store,

 

While lackadaisical Elsie

Scrubs the floor.

 

Her dress is dirty,

Her knees are sore,

 

Pushing her pail

From ten till four.

 

I think it’s small

Of Small and Small,

 

Even though Elsie

Is lackadaisical,

 

To pay a woman

To crawl and crawl

 

From post to pillar,

From wall to wall,

 

And clean their floor

Like an animal.

 

I’d rather have

No floor at all.

 

 

NOT EVERY LITTLE MARY

 

Not ever little Mary

Would come and talk with me,

And whisper me a secret,

And climb upon my knee;

 

And ask me, please, to show her

My silver crucifix,

And say her Pater Noster

Like good Catholics;

 

And let me eat a sweet cake,

And bounce her rubber ball,

And hide me and go-seek me

Behind the garden wall;

 

And read me Cinderella

And the slipper and the fairy.

Some little Marys would, —

But not every little Mary.

 


DANNY’S FIRST COMMUNION

(To L. R. S.)

 

Impotent now the wisdom

And sword of Solomon

If mothers come to quarrel

About this little son.

 

For truly this is Danny,

And really this is Jesus.

The whole of him is Mary’s,

And all of him Louise’s.

 

 

SIMPLE SIMONY

 

When I was short and stumpy

And rather golden curls

For letting a large Archbishop

Know Who made the world,

 

I got a silver dollar

So big I couldn’t hold it,

So I sat down on a carpet,

And rolled it, and rolled it.

 


GRANDMOTHER LOU

 

Grandmother Lou was a milliner,

Almost a generation

Ago, but bonnets were still in her

Imagination.

 

When, wheeling her out and warming her

Bones on the sun veranda,

And knowing the trick of charming her,

Often I’d hand her

 

A flower or a feather or a twig

Or a button, or something like that,

Saying, “Wouldn’t this ringumadig

Look nice on a hat?”

 

And invariably I would wangle

Into her smile a twinkle,

While along her cheek would dangle

A ribbony winkle;

 

And a memory gay and bright

In a faded brain would try

To turn on a delicate light

In the filmy eye

 

Of Grandmother Lou, the milliner,

Who now with the lissome lasses

Of old, lies quiet and still in her

Grave in the grasses.

 

And the wind blows over her bonnetless

Head, and may peace abide her,

Till I shall go rhymeless and sonnetless

To sleep beside her.

 

 

MAGNIFICENCE

 

Our gentle sister within her mother’s heart

Our tall archangel playing a woman’s part,

Still hides a host of childlike fancies whence

Her eyes acquire their stately innocence;

And made two gorgeous wishes and did prevail

At owning a white police-dog and a nightingale.

 


THE CHILDREN

 

When I go out walking

On Bloomsbury Street,

Children say “Here he comes!”,

Children I meet;

 

The Margarets and Marys

And Michaels and Matts,

Dropping me curtseys

And lifting their hats.

 

The children! The children!

They load me with love,

In Bloomsbury Gardens

And Bloomsbury Grove.

 

By Bloomsbury Chapel

And Bloomsbury Mart,

I often go walking

To kindle my heart.

 

But, when I go out walking

On Buckingham Lane,

Children say “Here he comes

Walking again.”

 

The Gladyses, Gwendolyns,

Grovers and Guys,

Lifting their noses

And arching their eyes.

 

The children! The children!

They hurt me with hate,

In Buckingham Terrace

And Buckingham Gate.

 

By Buckingham Mansions

And Buckingham Inns,

I often go walking

To pay for my sins.

 


SARA FINN

 

Poor old body,

Worn and thin;

Poor old

Sara Finn!

 

Bent like a snow-bush,

Trudging her own

Way to Eternity

Alone.

 

No husband,

No family, —

Just Sara,

Just she,

 

Mumbling “If I’d find

Someone to bury me,

There wouldn’t be nothin’

Else to worry me.”

 

Poor Sara, died,

And was buried too.

Peacefully she went,

Spinsters always do;

 

Like spent candles

When you snuff

Them singly, softly,

Puff! Puff!

 

Cherubim and Seraphim,

Praise ye the Lord!

Cherubim and Sara Finn,

With one accord!

 


BETTY’S BIRTHDAY

 

Angular Annie and buxom Bella

And tittering Tim were there.

Dick and Dora sat next to Nora,

And Chubby in Charlie’s chair.

 

Rita and Zita and Paul and Peter,

Kiddies from A to Zed;

Hiccoughy Humphry and snoozy Susie

And finnicky Winifred.

 

The grace was ended, the soup was splendid,

The chicken was nice and brown.

Papa was present to make it pleasant,

And Mama made us sit down.

 

She lit three lights on a candle cake

With nuts and a chocolate border,

And later she cut us a piece apiece

In all-for-Betty-cal order.

 


A MATTER FOR CALCULUS

 

If Millicent Marvel,

The belle of the town,

Should step from her haughty

And high estate down

 

And kiss Rosie Rogers,

That tired old hag,

Who shines the linoleum

Wringing a rag:

 

The tall hats would tumble,

The lorgnettes would glare;

Some prominent people

Would swoon on the stair.

 

If Mortimer Muffins,

The Mayor of the city,

Should ever, through some

Preternatural pity,

 

Embrace Dinny Dooley,

That battered old man,

Who sweeps in the street

With a brush and a can: —

 

The horns would start tooting,

The traffic would pause

And the length of the block

Would go wild with guffaws.

 

Once the astronomers

Took me apart,

Fixed me a telescope

Rules me a chart,

 

And roundly impressed me

Revealing how far,

The unthinkable journey

From star unto star.

 

But I’m searching for instruments

Hunting a plan,

That will measure the distance

From man unto man.

 

 

JEREMY

 

Lucy said to Jeremy, “Jeremy!”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “What?”

“Don’t you remember what day today is?

Surely you’ve not forgot?

Didn’t you notice the special pudding,

And the little blue vase of flowers?

Whose anniversary is it, Jeremy?”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “Ours.”

 

Lucy said to Jeremy, “Jeremy!”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “What?”

“I’ve been waiting till I’ve been weary

Keeping your supper hot.

All day long I’ve been so excited!

Didn’t you like your tea?

How many years are we married, Jeremy?”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “Three.”

 

Lucy said to Jeremy, “Jeremy!”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “What?”

“You seem dreadfully unromantic;

Maybe we fuss a lot,

But aren’t we still the same old lovers,

Summer and winter through?

Tell me who was your sweetheart, Jeremy?”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “You.”

 

Lucy said to Jeremy, “Jeremy!”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “What?”

“Remember the first year we were married,

Out in the garden plot?

The moon was lovely, and you said I had

Something as blue as skies.

What did I have so pretty, Jeremy?”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “Eyes.”

 

Lucy said to Jeremy, “Jeremy!”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “What?”

“Remember the winter we went to dances?

Remember the gown I bought?

We danced one night at the Grand Pavilion,

And you wore an evening suit;

And how did you say your wife looked, Jeremy?”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “Cute.”

 

Lucy said to Jeremy, “Jeremy!”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “What?”

“Remember the time when we had birthdays,

And wasn’t it nice you thought

To buy me bows for my satin slippers,

Because I had tiny feet!

And what did you have to call them, Jeremy?”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “Sweet.”

 

Lucy said to Jeremy, “Jeremy!”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “What?”

“Remember the poems we read together,

The Maiden of Camelot

And the Knight who lived in a wondrous castle,

Holding her hand in his?

Didn’t they used to thrill us, Jeremy?”

Jeremy said to Lucy, “Zzzzzz!”

 

 

THE LITTLE RED ROSARY

 

Old Annie’s little red rosary

Old Annie loved the best,

Her little red chain of cherry stones

The priest had blessed.

 

“Hail Mary . . . full of grace . . . ”

Over and over again.

Even after she fell asleep

And the clock struck ten,

 

Old Annie’s thumb and finger

Would fumble along alone

And hunt for the next Hail Mary

On the next cherry stone

 

With no Old Annie to guide them.

And after her prayer had stopped,

It would be nearly a minute

Till the little red rosary dropped.

 


THE MARRIAGE MAKERS

 

Today I married Martha,

I married her to Jim.

He was huge and handsome

She was sweet and slim.

 

We went to make a wedding,

Boy, girl, and priest,

Before Our Lady’s altar,

Upon Our Lady’s feast.

 

She in her dove-white slippers

Stood on the marble stair;

He was a faultless bridegroom,

Beaming from heels to hair.

 

And linking their lives together,

Getting their story told,

I too was rather splendid,

Vested in gown of gold.

 

Lifting her lily finger,

Looped in a yellow band,

I helped him to tell the message

Her heart would understand.

 

We managed it all in whispers,

And mine were the phrases lent

To Love in its perfect moment,

Love in its Sacrament.

 

But now when the Mass is over

And off they ride to town,

Alone by Our Lady’s altar

I wait in my golden gown,

 

Robed in my shining armor,

Girded for God to guess

How in my white betrothal,

All in my loneliness

 

Merry I make espousals,

Hiding no secret sorrow: —

And I shall marry Rosemary

And Christopher tomorrow.

 

 

NICE SURPRISE

 

Eileen has got a new baby boy,

We call him our “nice surprise,”

With genuine fingers, authentic toes,

And actual ears and eyes;

 

Able to gurgle and breathe and smile,

Able to coo and sing,

Roly and poly and sweet and small

And pretty as anything.

 

He knows we can hardly believe he’s real,

He knows he’s nice and new;

But minute by minute and hour by hour

He keeps on being true.

 

 

MRS. WHITTLE