The Project Gutenberg eBook of Behold this Dreamer

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
*** This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg eBook. Details Below. ***
*** Please follow the copyright guidelines in this file. ***

Title: Behold this Dreamer

Author: Elizabeth Bartlett

Release date: October 30, 2018 [eBook #58207]

Language: English

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEHOLD THIS DREAMER ***


Cover art




BEHOLD THIS DREAMER

Elizabeth Bartlett


Behold This Dreamer was originally published in 1959 by Editorial Jus in Mexico City, and is now out-of-print. The author’s literary executor, Steven James Bartlett, has decided to make the book available as an open access publication, freely available to readers through Project Gutenberg under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-NoDerivs license, which allows anyone to distribute this work without changes to its content, provided that both the author and the original URL from which this work was obtained are mentioned, that the contents of this work are not used for commercial purposes or profit, and that this work will not be used without the copyright holder's written permission in derivative works (i.e., you may not alter, transform, or build upon this work without such permission). The full legal statement of this license may be found at:

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/legalcode


Creative Commons logo



Behold this Dreamer




By ELIZABETH BARTLETT


BOOKS

poems of yes and no
Behold this Dreamer


POEMS

Accent, American Weave, Approach, Arizona Quarterly, Beloit Poetry Journal, Canadian Forum, Catholic World, Chelsea Review, Coastlines, Commentary, Cresset, Epos, Fiddlehead, Folio, four quarters, Harper's, Harper's Bazaar, Literary Review, Mexican Life, Naked Ear, New Mexico Quarterly, New Poems 2, New Voices 2, N. Y. Herald Tribune, N. Y. Times, Nimrod, Odyssey, Outposts, Personalist, Poetry Chapbook, Prairie Schooner, Quixote, Saturday Review, Shenandoah Review, Southwest Review, Sparrow, Step Ladder, Venture, Views, Western Review, Western Humanities Review, Whetstone, Wisconsin Poetry.



Acknowledgements: Certain of the poems in this collection have appeared in publications listed above.

The title, Behold This Dreamer, is taken from an anthology of that name, in tribute to its author, Walter de la Mare (1873-1956).



Behold this Dreamer



Elizabeth Bartlett



Editorial Jus, S. A.
Mexico City




First Edition
© 1959 Elizabeth Bartlett




To CHARLOTTE HOWELL REED




CONTENTS

Vision

The poet's dream

Time will tell

Afternoon of a journey

The cave

The test

In his image

All this, before

The creation




Vision

EYE center of the universe
Whose pupil is the world
Teach us to see the light
Embracing night

Between the sunset and the dawn
To see the unicorn
Within that crystal ball
Of pure recall

Where time is an iris mirror
A pointillated blur
Of image and of form
Caught in its storm

With every moment held inside
The frame of canvas mind
Forever captive, stilled,
Motion fulfilled

Where memory and dream evoke
The future like a window
Made of stained glass, one cast
From the fractured past

As retina and perspective
For our darkness, the bridge
Connecting what has been
With things foreseen

Through your bright lens, illuminate
The galaxy that waits
Invisible as trust
In stars and dust




The Poet's Dream

WHEN the waters of the sun
Fall on the flaming sea

When the desert rose is one
With the snow sipping bee

All that our senses now shun
Time's alchemy will free

On the coral shores of night
The ghosts of fish shall wake

And offer incense to the light
That gives them bread to break

From the singing shells with wings
An artist's eye shall peer

With violin hands for strings
And a poet's ear

Then white silence like a nun
Shall lift her long white sleeves

And shake the treasures she has spun
From dreams whose thread she weaves

From the surf of mountain caves
A billion stars shall gush

And whirl on the windward waves
Through the darkened hush

In the valley of moon trees
The glowing fruit shall sway

And rise by twos and threes
Above the cradled day

On the jungle's peaceful floor
Lion and deer shall meet

A crucifix made of ore
Between their kneeling feet

All of this and more shall be
Within that shining net

When time redeems mortality
From its mortal debt

Then magnet age shall point its north
Towards youth's eternal pole

That alpha star in the fourth
Dimension of the soul

Where love curves back in heartspace
Within its chrysalis

And gravitates the imaged face
Of the all creating this

From the light years of the past
The undeflected force

Shall bind the future fast
To God's own source

As cause and word unending
Repeat the rhythmic plan

Of universe transcending
Man's origin as man




Time Will Tell

WHERE fireflies are stars
And the evening sky a sea,
There you will find me, far
From the leveling demands
That leveled you and me.

When distant mountains bend
Like deep swells toward the shore,
Then you will see the ends
For which I built my dikes
Against the lowly roar.

Though breath was all I owned
To force my heart to climb,
Though words were all the stones
I had to seal my mind,
You will know why, in time.




Afternoon of a Journey

THERE will never be another,
That day was forever.

We dove through tropic noon
Into a green sky. The palms stood
Quiet, still, their fronds
Like swollen waves about
To break, transparent, lime limned
And streaked from base to rim
With icy light.

Lungs gilled and arms finned wide,
We slipped into the pale
Of that dry sea, following downrays
Until we reached the cool
Of silence, a sandpaved lagoon
Upholding its weight of time
Under trees that climbed.

Perched on a log, we scanned
The currents, the drifting shaft
Of shadows, instinctively alert
To armadillo's crawl, the stir
Of something red,
The eye of an iguana met...
Ourselves. Perceiving

We were not alone in breathing,
Being witness,
As well as evidence
In that primal air,
How all of us shared
In the serene of a sunless glow
Which waterless flowed.

Gently, we moved along a path
That opened as we passed,
Whispering our affirmations
To those secret ones
Who flickered and flashed,
Carrying our echoes back
From near, then far, far off.

And slowly, the silence arced,
Leaped high—and broke,
With parrots in the undertow
As the waves rolled over
And the green tide flooded
The forest floor, whirling,
Swirling a world set free.

Now all of us were cells
In a chemistry of shells
Older than snails,
Plankton or sunbaked clay,
Fellow creatures in an afternoon
As joyous as a long lost tune
About to be remembered.

Oh all of us there
In that drenched, tropic green
Began to sing and sing,
Shedding our ties
With root and rock and sky,
As we found our song
In our living bond.

Pod and leaf, mouth and beak,
Whatever lived and breathed
That sudden afternoon,
Sang wonder through the woods,
As we heard and discovered
Each in the other
Without a word.

Until a metallic bird,
On roaring wings,
Crashed our song beneath
The hammered surf,
As it thundered,
Like lightning in a storm,
Fearfully born.

Then all of us
Grew motionless
In the sculptured undersea
Of silenced green,
Knowing, as we did again,
The thing forbidden and forgotten
In a world of men.

There will never be another,
That day was forever.




The Cave

DROP by drop
The earth is born
A billion years
From dark to dawn

Drop by drop
As rivers flow
Past sunless cliffs
No wind has known

Where no grass blows
And no birds sing
There time drips slow
And patient clings

Drop by drop
Till waterfalls
Are turned to stone

Here new stars form
And mountains rise
Clear of the storms
That twist the sky

Drop by drop
While caverns tall
Carve crystal bones

What dream lies walled
Within this night
What shape shall crawl
Up to the light

Drop by drop
As silence grows
Inside its vault
Of carbon snow

When glaciers halt
Before no zones
When both the poles
At last are one

Drop by drop
The dawn shall come
A billion years
From cave to sun




The Test

HE who would climb the heights of tone
And scale the peaks beyond the listening ear,
Must first walk over water
And learn to stand on air, alone.

He who would swim the waves of light
And dive past shores into a sunless glow,
Must first merge with his shadow
And melt through solid glass, like night.

Where eyes are fins and sound is leap,
The rhythmic force performs its own ballet;
When dreams are fired in clay,
They burn a path through timeless sleep.




In His Image

WHO has not looked into the heart of night
    and seen the darker light,
    concealed like spectral stars
    beyond the rim of Mars,

Who has not listened to the sound of mind
    and heard the silence wind,
    like rivers underground
    out to a sea profound,

    has only eyes and ears.

Who has not reached above the clouded span
    and touched the cosmic plan,
    upheld like spider's climb
    upon the spokes of time,

Who has not followed the labyrinthine thread
    And crushed the monstrous dread,
    that other men may gleam
    the glory of the dream,

    has only hands and feet.

Who has not lived within his hour of space
    and etched it with his face,
    as portrait of the sun
    reflects the solar one,

    is only shape and dust.




All This, Before

I RACED, I rushed, I ran,
to catch the empty hand of time—
Before the wind, the blowing wind,
This breathless gift.

I willed, I worked, I wept,
To melt the frozen face of time—
Before the sun, the burning sun,
This frenzied bone.

I drank, I danced, I dared,
To tempt the stony foot of time—
Before the rain, the driving rain,
This raptured flame.

I leaped, I laughed, I loved,
To ease the burdened heart of time—
Before the dust, the settling dust,
This flesh and blood.




The Creation

OUT of the white and the blue
Out of the mist and the ice
Out of the wind and the flame
The creature came.

With eyes as brilliant as the light
With ears as lucid as the sound
With feet as sudden as the thought
The creature caught

A breath from the yawning sky
A drop from the nodding sea
A root from the sleeping earth
And from their birth

Measured the length of the seasons
Balanced the rhythm of the tides
Secured the growing of the seed
And woke the need

Of the dream inside the egg
Of the thirst within the cell
Of the shape beneath the bone
Then took a stone

And breaking the silent void
And loosing the swollen stream
And cutting the golden thread
The creature said:

Here on this dot of bounded space
Here in this point of moving time
Here with this seal of life and death
I fix my breath

That all the works of my hands
That all the passions of my heart
That all the wonders of my brain
Shall here remain.

I, Gilgamesh, Rama, Adam
I, Phoenician, Saxon, Mayan
I, Peasant, Leader, Architect
By this reject

Perpetual day or night
Everlasting rain or drought
Eternal struggle or peace
Until words cease

Between infinite men and gods
Between partisan young and old
Between ultimate right and wrong
For each is strong.

Let calendar be as record
Let monument be as witness
Let history here determine
Which shall win.

Then the sky hurled its lightning
Then the sea roared its thunder
Then the earth reared its fire
To show their ire

At the vanity of the ego
At the rashness of the sower
At the folly of the dreamer
And redeemer

Who would thus destroy the sun
Who would thus defy the flood
Who would thus pollute the air
And showed him there

The blinding vision of the truth
The deafening echoes of the damned
The crashing madness of the plan
That he began.

And when he saw the faces
And when he heard the weeping
And when he knew the sickness
That men possess

As mortal children of ambition
As transient strangers of desire
As fatal victims of perfection
Released by none

From the essence of the grape
From the music of the reed
From the incense of the bowl
The creature stole

The power of forgetfulness
The illusion of contentment
The promise of exaltation
Making them one

That the lost and unfulfilled
That the laughter and the pain
That the glory and defeat
Be complete

Seeing how frail is the candle
Hearing how brief is the song
Knowing how soon is the temple
Darkened and still.

Then slipped the root from his feet
Then poured the sound from his ears
Then blew the light from his eyes
And went more wise

Into the white and the blue
Into the mist and the ice
Into the wind and the flame
The way he came.



[Editorial note: The author's literary executor discovered in Elizabeth Bartlett's personal autographed hardbound copy of Behold This Dreamer her own marginal notations relating to the next-to-the-last stanza of the above poem, accompanied by her confirming handwritten revision of that stanza. The stanza as printed here incorporates her revision.]




Behold This Dreamer
is a signed, limited edition
designed by the author
on Corsican rag paper
in Baskerville type




ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Elizabeth Bartlett (1911-1994) was an American poet and writer noted for her lyrical and symbolic poetry, creation of the new twelve-tone form of poetry, founder of the international non-profit organization Literary Olympics, Inc., and known as an author of fiction, essays, reviews, translations, and as an editor. She is not to be confused with the British poet (1924-2008) of the same name. For more detailed information about her life, work, and critical commendations, see the Wikipedia article http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Bartlett_%28American_poet%29 .

Bartlett’s most notable achievements include:

• Creation of a new form of poetry, "the twelve-tone poem," adapting Arnold Schonberg’s musical system to the verbal, accented sounds of language. Called "the Emily Dickinson of the 20th Century," her concise lyrics have been praised by poets, musicians, and composers alike.

• Publication of 16 books of poetry, a group of edited anthologies, and more than 1,000 poems, short stories, and essays published, for example, in Harper’s, Virginia Quarterly, New York Times, North American Review, Saturday Review, Prairie Schooner, and in numerous international collections.

• Recipient of many fellowships, grants and awards, including NEA, PEN Syndicate, fellowships at the Huntington Hartford Foundation, Montalvo, Yaddo, MacDowell, Dorland Mt. Colony and Ragdale, travel grants, and honors for introducing literature as part of the Olympics.

• Founder of the Literary Olympics, to restore literature, specifically poetry, as a vital part of the Olympics as it once had been in ancient Greece.

Bartlett’s poetry came to the attention of leading poets, writers, and critics as diverse as Marianne Moore, Wallace Stevens, Mark Van Doren, Conrad Aiken, Allen Tate, Alfred Kreymborg, Robert Hillyer, Louis Untermeyer, Rolfe Humphries, John Ciardi, Richard Eberhart, Richard Wilbur, Maxine Kumin, Robert M. Hutchins, Kenneth Rexroth, William Stafford, and others. Over the years, Bartlett maintained an active and extensive correspondence with eminent poets, writers, and literary critics; evident throughout this collected literary correspondence are strong statements attesting to the importance of her work.

Behold This Dreamer was published in Mexico City in 1959. By 1961, Jonathan Williams wrote of the book: "Your language is cultivated, employed consistently and lucidly. To my observation, it seems fair to say that you belong with the best of your generation, which I would say includes May Swenson, Denise Levertov, Garrigue, et al." Louis Untermeyer added his voice: "I particularly like your fusion of observation and whimsicality, as well as your avoidance of the poetic stereotypes." Rolfe Humphries was intrigued by Bartlett’s poetic techniques: "I enjoyed your poems and admire many...." About Behold This Dreamer, Gustav Davidson wrote: "I enjoyed reading these poems. I was impressed by their precision, clarity, and technical competence." About the same work, critic Paul Jordan-Smith wrote: "Your poems were begotten of a strong, imaginative sense. My congratulations on this beautiful collection."

Elizabeth Bartlett's husband, Paul Alexander Bartlett (1909–1990) was an American writer, artist, and poet. He made a large-scale study of more than 350 Mexican haciendas, published novels, short stories, and poetry, and worked as a fine artist in a variety of media. For more detailed information about his life and work, see the Wikipedia article https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Alexander_Bartlett .

Elizabeth Bartlett’s son, Steven James Bartlett (1945– ), is a psychologist and philosopher who has published many books and articles in the fields of philosophy and psychology. For more detailed information about his life and work, see the Wikipedia article https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_James_Bartlett .