WHENE’ER YOU SING.

.

R. H. Harkness.

Whene’er you sing, my ravished ear

Is all attent each tone to hear:

I breathless list as though I heard

Some transient, rich-voiced tropic bird,

And feared to fright it in its song;

And, when it flits, begin to long

For its return the coming spring:

Thus do I list whene’er you sing.

Whene’er you sing, my heart, deep-stirred,

And vibrant to each tone and word,

Joyfully sings your song with you,

Nor ceases singing when you’re through:

Just as a harp that silent seems,

Yet softly sings, as though it dreams,

The tones that kiss each sentient string:

So sings my heart whene’er you sing.

Whene’er you sing, though sweet the thrill

Of voice and song, yet sweeter still

The thought that’s with the song all through,

That she who sings the song—is you.

As when you used, at evening time,

To croon our babes some soothing rhyme,

So now you never fail to bring

Great joy to me whene’er you sing.

Washington D.C.

March 1912

[1] Note by Mary Harkness Layman: Papa wrote this about Mama. She had a beautiful voice: I can hear her still. And the two of them together.

[2] Note by Rosemary Layman Gainer: In March 1914, my grandfather Harkness died suddenly of a heart attack. Although he had a good job with the Riggs Bank in Washington, D.C., apparently there was no insurance and apparently little or nothing in savings. I was never given the details of their finances, but I did know that grandmother Harkness was forced to sell her nice home on Irving Street, NW. My aunt Cornelia, (henceforth called "Aunt Nealie,") age 29, who had recently graduated from Madame Von Unscheld's Music School, was able to get a job teaching at Salem College (WV), a Seventh Day Baptist institution. Grandmother Harkness, then in her 50's, and my mother Mary, 20, accompanied her.

[3] From Tina Gainer Barton: On January 21, 1913, Mary Stevens Beall wrote the following to Great-grandfather Robert Harkness, which shows he must have asked her to critique his poems and so she gave him advice on publishing. I wonder if he pursued the matter, as he only lived one more year.

The Chalfonte

January 21, 1913.

Dear Mr. Harkness:

First I want to thank you for the great pleasure you have given me in letting me ready your two poems.

“Whene’re You Sing” is a gem—poetic in theme and in diction. I should send that to the Century. It needs no illustration.

“To a Lone Chimney” needs a sub-head because a chimney is not a poetic subject. It needs, too, an illustration. You see when one really reads the poem, its imagery appeals to the imagination. But the casual reader glancing over a magazine, would not be attracted by the title. I think the average reader would be more apt to be attracted, if there were a picture and a sub-head, something like—To an Ancient Chimney: sole remnant of a fallen house. But do try to have them published and let me know in what magazines they appear.

Yours very sincerely,

Mary Stevens Beall