Reflections

by

Rigel Osborn Belt

Transcribed from the family copy by his great-grandson, Eric Rose.

Dedicated
to my mother
Mary Ryland Belt

Foreword

The poet

Rigel Osborn Belt grew up in the place that is now Beltsville, Maryland. As a boy he shucked oysters from sunup to sundown for twenty-five cents a day. As a man he ran a mortgage loan business. His mother, Mary Ryland Belt, died while he was very young, and she is the one to whom this book is dedicated.

He married Bertha Brownell Belt around 1910, and by about 1921 the couple were living in a house he built in Chevy Chase, Maryland. Much of what he saw there found its way into the poems: the two hickory trees in front of the house, and the garden behind it, with an arched trellis the family believes he or his father built.

The poems came to him naturally. Many, such as "To My Lady's Stocking," began as gifts for Bertha. Others are he wrote for his family, such as daughters Avis and Molly.

Two of the poems look back to "Wellington," where he had a cabin on the Potomac River. “The gut” was a swampy stretch that had to be crossed on log boards to reach the cabin, and the family wheeled its supplies over in a wheelbarrow. “On the River Bank” was written there too.

The book

Reflections was published in a limited printing and dedicated to his mother, Mary Ryland Belt. Its later poems are gathered under a section written for his wife, Bertha Brownell Belt. The signature below comes from a copy he inscribed by hand.

The book came together through a friend of Bertha’s who taught a writing class. She helped put it together, and Rigel paid to have it printed. The run was small, probably the minimum a printer would take. Copies went to family and friends, with a few left over, and they have since passed from hand to hand.

From an inscribed copy

Contents

  1. Two A.M.1See from my window the snowflakes falling,
  2. The Gut in the Winter2Down in the gut the reeds are sighing,
  3. The Rhetoric of a Tear3Out of Ponderosa Pine my sculptured being came,
  4. Who Are They4Derelicts upon life’s sea
  5. Mooring5What are thy rocks and cliffs,
  6. To Avis6The greatest treasure one can find
  7. Life’s Procession7Softly falls the twilight at the close of day;
  8. My Choice8I often muse if I could have
  9. To Diane9DEAR CHILD,
  10. An Idyl10Down by the willows that shadow the brook,
  11. Dream Ships11Boys flying kites up into the welkin blue
  12. Pity Me Not12Knee-high in clover I stride over fields
  13. Little Thistle13Thistle, thistle, thistle down!
  14. To the Climbing Clematis14Why do you climb when you can run?
  15. To Peggy15Come, my dear, and walk with me,
  16. To Avis on Valentine’s Day16Drab is the lawn and leafless the trees,
  17. To Molly on Valentine’s Day17Sweet maid, you are my choice
  18. Where’er You Walk18I’ll tell you, dear, where earth and heaven meet:
  19. Beautiful River19Beautiful river, whence floweth thou on
  20. On the River Bank20They stand upon the brink
  21. To Molly21What though the bow must be restrung—
  22. To Clara22The nearest ones it seems to me
  23. Recompense23My life divides in equal parts,
  24. The Hickory Tree24O Golden Hickory leaves!
  25. My Mother’s Voice25How lovely was my Mother’s voice,
  26. Whisper Once Again the Story O’er26When the aspen leaf has fallen
  27. To My WifeBertha Brownell Belt
  28. To Bertha27Along the changing road of life
  29. Dependency28Oft have we seen some trellis firm and strong
  30. Love’s Climate29In Arctic zone, mid snow and ice,
  31. Delinquency30The saints of old did point the way,
  32. To a Jeweled Necklace31Ah, jeweled necklace, with what delight
  33. To My Lady’s Stocking32Stocking! I envy you your world of fun,
  34. On Christmas Morn33On Christmas morn, mid din and stew,
  35. The Lost Jewel34O Taj Mahal, thou gem of ages,
  36. You Are Not Here35In your garden here I rest.
  37. An Ode to Solitude36Come my dear,
  38. Everlasting37The first rose of summer I bring unto thee,
  39. To My Wife38I thought when you had reached high noon,
  40. On Your Fiftieth Birthday39This morning I beheld your face
  41. To Bertha40Put this in the Soul’s Archive,

In the order they appear in the book. Numbers show each poem’s place in the collection, not its printed page.