Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Gregory Wenner by Edgar Lee Masters
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Gregory Wenner

    By Edgar Lee Masters



        Gregory Wenner's brother married the mother
        Of Alma Bell, the daughter of a marriage
        The mother made before. Kinship enough
        To justify a call on Wenner's power
        When Alma Bell was face to face with shame.
        And Gregory Wenner went to help the girl,
        And for a moment looked on Elenor Murray
        Who left the school-room passing through the hall,
        A girl of seventeen. He left his business
        Of massing millions in the city, to help
        Poor Alma Bell, and three years afterward
        In the Garden of the Gods he saw again
        The face of Elenor Murray - what a fate
        For Gregory Wenner!

            But when Alma Bell
        Wrote him for help his mind was roiled with cares:
        A money magnate had signed up a loan
        For half a million, to which Wenner added
        That much beside, earned since his thirtieth year,
        Now forty-two, with which to build a block
        Of sixteen stories on a piece of ground
        Leased in the loop for nine and ninety years.
        But now a crabbed miser, much away,
        Following the sun, and reached through agents, lawyers,
        Owning the land next to the Wenner land,
        Refused to have the sixteen story wall
        Adjoin his wall, without he might select
        His son-in-law as architect to plan
        The sixteen-story block of Gregory Wenner.
        And Gregory Wenner caught in such a trap,
        The loan already bargained for and bound
        In a hard money lender's giant grasp,
        Consented to the terms, let son-in-law
        Make plans and supervise the work.

        Five years
        Go by before the evil blossoms fully;
        But here's the bud: Gregory Wenner spent
        His half-a-million on the building, also
        Four hundred thousand of the promised loan,
        Made by the money magnate - then behold
        The money magnate said: "You cannot have
        Another dollar, for the bonds you give
        Are scarcely worth the sum delivered now
        Pursuant to the contract. I have learned
        Your architect has blundered, in five years
        Your building will be leaning, soon enough
        It will be wrecked by order of the city."
        And Gregory Wenner found he spoke the truth.
        But went ahead to finish up the building,
        And raked and scraped, fell back on friends for loans,
        Mortgaged his home for money, just to finish
        This sixteen-story building, kept a hope
        The future would reclaim him.

        Gregory Wenner
        Who seemed so powerful in his place in life
        Had all along this cancer in his life:
        He owned the building, but he owed the money,
        And all the time the building took a slant,
        By just a little every year. And time
        Made matters worse for him, increased his foes
        As he stood for the city in its warfares
        Against the surface railways, telephones;
        And earned thereby the wrath of money lenders,
        Who made it hard for him to raise a loan,
        Who needed loans habitually. Besides
        He had the trouble of an invalid wife
        Who went from hospitals to sanitariums,
        And traveled south, and went in search of health.

        Now Gregory Wenner reaches forty-five,
        He's fought a mighty battle, but grows tired.
        The building leans a little more each year.
        And money, as before, is hard to get.
        And yet he lives and keeps a hope.

        At last
        He does not feel so well, has dizzy spells.
        The doctor recommends a change of scene.
        And Gregory Wenner starts to see the west.
        He visits Denver. Then upon a day
        He walks about the Garden of the Gods,
        And sees a girl who stands alone and looks
        About the Garden's wonders. Then he sees
        The girl is Elenor Murray, who has grown
        To twenty-years, who looks that seventeen
        When first he saw her. He remembers her,
        And speaks of Alma Bell, that Alma Bell
        Is kindred to him. Where is Alma Bell,
        He has not heard about her in these years?
        And Elenor Murray colors, and says: "Look,
        There is a white cloud on the mountain top."
        And thus the talk commences.

        Elenor Murray
        Shows forth the vital spirit that is hers.
        She dances on her toes and crows in wonder,
        Flings up her arms in rapture. What a world
        Of beauty and of hope! For not her life
        Of teaching school, a school of Czechs and Poles
        There near LeRoy, since she left school and taught,
        These two years now, nor arid life at home,
        Her father sullen and her mother saddened;
        Nor yet that talk of Alma Bell and her
        That like a corpse's gas has scented her,
        And made her struggles harder in LeRoy -
        Not these have quenched her flame, or made it burn
        Less brightly. Though at last she left LeRoy
        To fly old things, the dreary home, begin
        A new life teaching in Los Angeles.
        Gregory Wenner studies her and thinks
        That Alma Bell was right to reprimand
        Elenor Murray for her reckless ways
        Of strolling and of riding. And perhaps
        Real things were back of ways to be construed
        In innocence or wisdom - for who knows?
        His thought ran. Such a pretty face, blue eyes,
        And such a buoyant spirit.

        So they wandered
        About the Garden of the Gods, and took
        A meal together at the restaurant.
        And as they talked, he told her of himself,
        About his wife long ill, this trip for health -
        She sensed a music sadness in his soul.
        And Gregory Wenner heard her tell her life
        Of teaching, of the arid home, the shadow
        That fell on her at ten years, when she saw
        The hopeless, loveless life of father, mother.
        And his great hunger, and his solitude
        Reached for the soothing hand of Elenor Murray,
        And Elenor Murray having life to give
        By her maternal strength and instinct gave.
        The man began to laugh, forgot his health,
        The leaning building, and the money lenders,
        And found his void of spirit growing things -
        He loved this girl. And Elenor Murray seeing
        This strong man with his love, and seeing too
        How she could help him, with that venturesome
        And prodigal emotion which was hers
        Flung all herself to help him, being a soul
        Who tried all things in courage, staked her heart
        On good to come.

        They took the train together.
        They stopped at Santa Cruz, and on the rocks
        Heard the Pacific dash himself and watched
        The moon upon the water, breathed the scent
        Of oriental flowerings. There at last
        Under the spell of nature Gregory Wenner
        Bowed down his head upon his breast and shook
        For those long years of striving and of haggling,
        And for this girl, but mostly for a love
        That filled him now. And when he spoke again
        Of his starved life, his homeless years, the girl,
        Her mind resolved through thinking she could serve
        This man and bring him happiness, but with heart
        Flaming to heaven with the miracle
        Of love for him, down looking at her hands
        Which fingered nervously her dress's hem,
        Said with that gasp which made her voice so sweet:
        "Do what you will with me, to ease your heart
        And help your life."

            And Gregory Wenner shaken,
        Astonished and made mad with ecstasy
        Pressed her brown head against his breast and wept.
        And there at Santa Cruz they lived a week,
        Till Elenor Murray went to take her school,
        He to the north en route for home.

        Five years
        Had passed since then. And on this day poor Wenner
        Looks from a little office at his building
        Visibly leaning now, the building lost,
        The bonds foreclosed; this is the very day
        A court gives a receiver charge of it.
        And he, these several months reduced to deals
        In casual properties, in trivial trades,
        Hard pressed for money, has gone up and down
        Pursuing prospects, possibilities,
        Scanning each day financial sheets and looking
        For clues to lead to money. And he finds
        His strength and hope not what they were before.
        His wife is living on, no whit restored.
        And Gregory Wenner thinks, would they not say
        I killed myself because I lost my building,
        If I should kill myself, and leave a note
        That business worries drove me to the deed,
        My building this day taken, a receiver
        In charge of what I builded out of my dream.
        And yet he said to self, that would be false:
        It's Elenor Murray's death that makes this life
        So hard to bear, and thoughts of Elenor Murray
        Make life a torture. First that I had to live
        Without her as my wife, and next the fact
        That I have taken all her life's thought, ruined
        Her chance for home and marriage; that I have seen
        Elenor Murray struggle in the world,
        And go forth to the war with just the thought
        To serve, if it should kill her.

            Then his mind
        Ran over these five years when Elenor Murray
        Throughout gave such devotion, constant thought,
        Filled all his mind and heart, and kept her voice
        Singing or talking in his memory's ear,
        In absence with long letters, when together
        With passionate utterances of love. The girl
        Loved Gregory Wenner, but the girl had found
        A comfort for her spiritual solitude,
        And got a strength in taking Wenner's strength.
        For at the last one soul lives on another.
        And Elenor Murray could not live except
        She had a soul to live for, and a soul
        On which to pour her passion, taking back
        The passion of that soul in recompense.
        Gregory Wenner served her power and genius
        For giving and for taking so to live,
        Achieve and flame; and found them in some moods
        Somehow demoniac when his spirits sank,
        And drink was all that kept him on his feet.
        And so when Elenor Murray came to him
        And said this life of teaching was too much,
        Could not be longer borne, he thought the time
        Had come to end the hopeless love. He raised
        The money by the hardest means to pay
        Elenor Murray's training as a nurse,
        By this to set her free from teaching school,
        And then he set about to crush the girl
        Out of his life.

        For Gregory Wenner saw
        Between this passion and his failing thought,
        And gray hairs coming, fortune slip like sand.
        And saw his mind diffuse itself in worries,
        In longing for her: found himself at times
        Too much in need of drink, and shrank to see
        What wishes rose that death might take his wife,
        And let him marry Elenor Murray, cure
        His life with having her beside him, dreaming
        That somehow Elenor Murray could restore
        His will and vision, by her passion's touch,
        And mother instinct make him whole again.
        But if he could not have her for his wife,
        And since the girl absorbed him in this life
        Of separation which made longing greater,
        Just as it lacked the medium to discharge
        The great emotion it created, Wenner
        Caught up his shreds of strength to crush her out
        Of his life, told her so, when he had raised
        The money for her training. For he saw
        How ruin may overtake a man, and ruin
        Pass by the woman, whom the world would judge
        As ruined long ago. But look, he thought,
        I pity her, not for our sin, if it be,
        But that I have absorbed her life; and yet
        The girl is mastering life, while I fall down.
        She has absorbed me, if the wrong lies here.
        And thus his thought went round.

        And Elenor Murray
        Accepted what he said and went her way
        With words like these: "My love and prayers are yours
        While life is with us." Then she turned to study,
        And toiled each day till night brought such fatigue
        That sleep fell on her. Was it to forget?
        And meanwhile she embraced the faith and poured
        Her passion driven by a rapturous will
        Into religion, trod her path in silence,
        Save for a card at Christmas time for him,
        Sometimes a little message from some place
        Whereto her duty called her.

        Gregory Wenner
        Stands at the window of his desolate office,
        And looks out on his sixteen-story building
        Irrevocably lost this day. His mind runs back
        To that day in the Garden of the Gods,
        That night at Santa Cruz, and then his eyes
        Made piercing sharp by sorrow cleave the clay
        That lies upon the face of Elenor Murray,
        And see the flesh of her the worms have now.
        How strange, he thinks, to flit into this life
        Singing and radiant, to suffer, toil,
        To serve in the war, return to girlhood's scenes,
        To die, to be a memory for a day,
        Then be forgotten. O, this life of ours.
        Why is not God ashamed for graveyards, why
        So thoughtless of our passion he lets play
        This tragedy.

            And Gregory Wenner thought
        About the day he stood here, even as now
        And heard a step, a voice, and looked around
        Saw Elenor Murray, felt her arms again,
        Her kiss upon his cheek, and saw her face
        As light was beating on it, heard her gasp
        In ecstasy for going to the war,
        To which that day she gave her pledge. And heard
        Her words of consecration. Heard her say,
        As though she were that passionate Heloise
        Brought into life again: "All I have done
        Was done for love of you, all I have asked
        Was only you, not what belonged to you.
        I did not hope for marriage or for gifts.
        I have not gratified my will, desires,
        But yours I sought to gratify. I have longed
        To be yours wholly, I have kept for self
        Nothing, have lived for you, have lived for you
        These years when you thought best to crush me out.
        And now though there's a secret in my heart,
        Not wholly known to me, still I can know it
        By seeing you again, I think, by touching
        Your hand again. Your life has tortured me,
        Both for itself, and since I could not give
        Out of my heart enough to make your life
        A way of peace, a way of happiness."

        Then Gregory Wenner thought how she looked down
        And said: "Since I go to the war, would God
        Look with disfavor on us if you took me
        In your arms wholly once again? My friend,
        Not with the thought to leave me soon, but sleeping
        Like mates, as birds do, making sleep so sweet
        Close to each other as God means we should.
        I mingle love of God with love of you,
        And in the night-time I can pray for you
        With you beside me, find God closer then.
        Who knows, you may take strength from such an hour."
        Then Gregory Wenner lived that night again,
        And the next morning when she rose and shook,
        As it were night gathered dew upon fresh wings,
        The vital water from her glowing flesh.
        And shook her hair out, laughed and said to him:
        "Courage and peace, my friend." And how they passed
        Among the multitude, when he took her hand
        And said farewell, and hastened to this room
        To seek for chances in another day,
        And never saw her more.

        And all these thoughts
        Coming on Gregory Wenner swept his soul
        Till it seemed like a skiff in mid-sea under
        A sky unreckoning, where neither bread,
        Nor water, save salt water, were for lips.
        And over him descended a blank light
        Of life's futility, since now this hour
        Life dropped the mask and showed him just a skull.
        And a strange fluttering of the nerves came on him,
        So that he clutched the window frame, lest he
        Spring from the window to the street below.
        And he was seized with fear that said to fly,
        Go somewhere, find some one, so to draw out
        This madness which was one with him and in him,
        And which some one in pity must relieve,
        Something must cure. And in this sudden horror
        Of self, this ebbing of the tides of life,
        Leaving his shores to visions, where he saw
        Horrible creatures stir amid the slime,
        Gregory Wenner hurried from the room
        And walked the streets to find his thought again
        Wherewith to judge if he should kill himself
        Or look to find a path in life once more.

        And Gregory Wenner sitting in his club
        Wrote to his brother thus: "I cannot live
        Now that my business is so tangled up,
        Bury my body by my father's side."
        Next day the papers headlined Gregory Wenner:
        "Loss of a building drives to suicide."

        *        *        *        *        *

        Elenor Murray's death kills Gregory Wenner
        And Gregory Wenner dying make a riffle
        In Mrs. Wenner's life - reveals to her
        A secret long concealed: -





Extra Info:
From the "Doomsday Book".


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