’ P UB LI S H ER S N O TE .
' Th e great popu la rily of E ric Al ackay s Love Leifers of a
Violinist lz as given rise 10 a demand fo r a select a nd a tlractive
‘ ‘ eclz /ion lz is ot/zer oez ica l w k H c l/ze ublica z ion o ilz e of p or s. en e p f
’ resenl v u m wh ch c u d ma new c not lo be onna f ol e , i in l es ny lyri s f
a ol/z er c ct io et/zer w t/z !b e f t ub/islzed orti ' a it in ny olle ion , g i irs p p
C O N T E N T S .
P A GE ' A Lo vE R s LITA N I E s — FI R ST LITANY VI RG O DULCI S
—V X A MOR Is S ECOND LITANY O . — THI R D LITANY A D T E CLAMAVI — FOUR TH LITANY G R ATIA p LE N A — FIFT H LITANY S ALV E R EG INA
— E E S IXTH LITANY B N DICTA TU . — S E V E NTH LITANY S TE LLA MATUTINA — E I G HTH LITANY DOMINA EXAUDI — N INTH LITANY LILIUM INTER S PINA S — T E NTH LITANY GLOR IA I N EXC E LS IS
G LADYS T H E S INGER CANTO FIR S T CANTO S E COND
MI SC E LLAN E OUS POE MS ANTER OS O DE T O T H E R I S ING S U N T H E WA K ING OF T H E LAR K A BALLAD OF K I SS E S
\Y MA R Y A R DE . T H E LADY OF T H E MA Y \ i Contents .
P AGE
ZU LA LI E
B E E THOV E N A T T H E PIANO A PR AY E R FOR LI G HT MI R AGE A S ONG OF S E R VITUD E S YLVIA IN T H E W E S T
‘ ’ E LIANOR E T H E S TATU E PABLO D E S A R A S A T E P R O PAT R IA T H E LITTLE GR AV E A DI R GE DAI S I E S O U T A T S E A
S ONN E TS
E S S I . C TA Y
S S II . VI ION
T H E S III . DAI Y
R IV . P OBATION
E V . DANT
E E 2 2 2 VI . DIFFID NC
F R E S VII . AI I
S R E VIII . PI IT LOV
I X F E R TWO S . A T DAY . BYR ON
’ XI E S . LOV AMBITION
’ XI I E S EFE . LOV D AT
A E XIII . THUND R S TOR M NIG HT
X IV I N S . TU CANY
V A X . H E R O
XVI R E R S E . MO o d n ”p C on tents.
T H E MI S S ION OF T H E BA R D D E ATH TO ON E I LOV E
E X E E R T N B A . VICTOR HUG O CYNTHIA PHILOM E L T H E S ONN E T K IN G TOK E N FLOW E RS A V E TE R AN PO E T A PR AYER FOR E N GLAN D
f i rs t ib i t a ng.
VI R GO D UL C I S .
O T H O U refulgen t e s se nce of all grace O th ou th at w ith the witche ry o f thy face m o f nt H ast ade m e thy serva unto death , I pray thee pause, ere, musical of breath ,
And rapt of utterance, thou condemn indeed M y Venturous wooing, and the wanton speed I so ul With which greet thee, dear and tender
o u o f - From t th e fulness my passion creed .
I A M so truly thin e that n evermore S S hall man be found , this side th e tygian shore ,
S O I m eek as , so patient under blam e,
And yet, w ithal , so minded to proclaim
H is lifelong ardou r. For my theme i s j ust
A heart enslaved , a sm ile , a broken tru st ,
A soft mirage , a glimpse Of fai ryland ,
th e An d then wreck thereof in tears and dust . ‘ ifll 5t l itany.
O TH U wast not made for murder, ye t a glance Ma y murderous prove and beauty may entrance , M ’ ’ ore than a siren s o r a serpent s eye . And there are moments when a smothered S igh May h in t at comfort and a murmured N O “ ” ’ G o f M ive signs Yes , and isery s overflow
M w e ake tears more precious than care to tell ,
o ne o ne we . Though , by , our hopes must forego
I S H O U LD have shunned thee as a man may shun I S H is evil hour. hould have curst the sun That made the day so bright and earth S O fair
When first we met, delirium through th e air Burning l ike fire I sho uld have curst th e moon
- And all the stars that , dream like , in a swoon
S o ut — hut the day, the loved , the lovely day
That came too late and left us all too soon .
I LOO K ED at thee , and lo from face to feet , I I saw my tyrant , and felt th e beat
Of my qu ick pulse . I knew thee for a queen And bowed submissive and the smile serene
Of thy sweet face revealed the soul Of thee . Fo r I was wounded as a man may be Whom E ros tricks with words h e will n ot prove
And all my peace o f m ind went o ut from me . 1 wirgo E ulcis . 3
o f O H , why d idst cheer me with th e thought bliss , And wouldst not pay me back my luckless kiss ?
I sough t thy side . I gave thee o fmy store
One wild salute . A flame was at the core Of that first kiss and on my mouth I feel
s The glow thereof, the pressu re and the eal ,
As if thy nature , when the deed was done ,
- Had leapt to mine in lightning like appeal .
I F debts were paid in full I m igh t require M I ore than my kiss . might, in time , asp re
- T o re . some new bond , or enact the first ’ k no w s t I For once , thou , th e love for which thirst ,
fo r I The love which hungered in thy sigh t, I Was not withheld . deemed th ee, day and n ight ,
M o wn ine true mate , and sent thee token flowers ’ T O figure forth the hopes I d fain indite .
VI I I .
IS no t ? C this so anst thou defend , in truth , o f The sunlike smile with which , in flush youth , — S O Thou didst accept my greeting, th ough late , My love -lorn homage when the voice o f Fate
Fell from thy lips, and made me twice a man
- Because half thine , in that betrothal plan V ’ V h e re o f I w spake , not knowing how t ould be When May had marred the prospects it began ? 1 4 f irst l itany! .
C S T A N thou deny that , early in the spring,
When daisies drooped , and bi rds were fain to sing
We met, and talked , and walked , and were conten t In sunlit paths ? An hour and more we spent ’ In K eats s Grove . We l ingered near the stem Of th at lone tree on which was seen the gem
Of h i s brigh t name , there carven by h imself ; ’ And I then stooped and kissed thy garment s hem .
I - I G E . . AV thee all my life gave thee there , In C ’ that wild hour, the great reator s share Of m ine existence and I turned to thee
As men to idol s , madly on my knee
And then , uplifted by th ose arms of th ine , I w sat beside thee , armed w ith other wine
Than vintage balm and , mindful Of thy blush , I guessed a though t wh ich words will n ot define .
I TOLD thee stories of th e days Ofj oy was When earth young , and love without alloy
Made all th ings glad and all the thoughts o f things .
And l ike a man who wonders while he sings , no And knows t whence the power that in h im lies , I made a madrigal o fall my sighs And bade thee heed them and I j o ine d therewith I The t ex ts Of these my follies that prize . x lbtrgo D ulcis . 5
f I S PO K E o men , long dead , who wooed in vain — w And yet were happy, men hose tender pain
w . Was fraught with fervour, as the n ight ith stars ’ - And then I spo k e . o fheroes battle scars And lordly souls who rode from lan d to land ’ T o win the love - touch of a lady s hand And o n the strings Of thy low -murmuring lute
' I struck th e ch o rds that all men understand .
X I I I .
I I S A N G to thee . praised thee with my praise, ’ e n E as a bird , concealed in sylvan ways ,
M a to y laud the rose , and wish , from hour hou r,
- fl o we r That he had petals like th e empress , w And there could grow, un inged , and be a bud , ’ With all his warbl ings ta en at singing - flo o d An d turned to vagaries o f the wildest scen t
T O underm ine the meekn ess in her blood .
S A H, those were days That April hould have been M o n y last earth , and , ere the frondage green
I h a ve o ine d H ad changed to gold , should j the ranks Of dull dead men who lived for little thanks
- And made the most thereof, though penance bound . I should have known that , in the daily round
r Of mine existence , there are griefs to spa e, o n But j oys, alas too few any ground . I 6 f irst l itany.
A N D h ere I stand to - day with bended h ead M y task undone , my garden overspread \V w I ? ith ban eful eeds . Am th e lord thereof w f O r min e own slave , without the po er to do f M ’ ? A m I y misery s badge so weak w ithal , I ’ That must loiter, though the bugle s call ’ S - Off hrills O er th e m oor, th e far weltering moor, Where foemen meet to van quish o r to fall ?
XV I .
A M I so blurred in soul , so ou t Of health , I That must turn to thee , as if by stealth , f And fear thy censure , fear thy quick rebuf , A n d thou so gen tle in a world so rough ’ G - That od s h igh priest , the mo rn apparelled sun , ’ N e er s aw thy like Am I indeed undone Of life and love and all ? an d must I weep
o vs ? For j that quit me , an d for sands that run
XV I I .
’ T - R R O MO O W S dawn will break but Yesterday , Where i s its light ? And where the breezes’ play ? S That swayed the flowers A bird will ing again ,
B ut n ot so well . Th e wind upon the plain , w The intry wind , will toss the groan ing trees I h I o f But , w at comfort sh all have these ,
T O S know th at they , unloved , have lost the pring, As I thy favou r and my power to please mirgo D ulcis . 1 7
XV I I I .
I S HOU LD have learnt a lesson from the songs Of woodland birds d iscoursing o n the wrongs
Of madcap moths and bach elor butterflies . I should have caugh t the cadence o f th e sigh s
wa wo o Of unwed flowers, and learnt the y to , I Which all th ings know save , ben eath the blue ’ fo r o f Of H eaven s great dome , undesired thee ,
l have but jarred the n otes that seemed so true .
X I X .
LD I I S H OU have told thee all meant to tell ,
L - - And how, at ammas tide, a wedding bell R o wn ang th rough my sleep, min e as well as th ine h o w I And led thee , smiling, to a shrine And there endowed thee with the name I bear And h o w I woke to find the mo rn ing - ai r d I Floode with light . should have told thee this,
And no t concealed the theme Of my long prayer.
B I . U T was timid Oh , my love was such I scarce could name i t Trembling over -much o I With to much ardour, w as moved at length n To mere mad utterance . I a blameful strength I to seized thy hand , scare thee , as of Old D ryads were scared and calm and icy - cold “ I ve x no Th in e answer came pray th ee, me t ’ o n And all that day twas winter the wold .
s e c o no l i t a ny .
X M I VO A OR S .
O C S E L - fl r V U H A F , my ady by the passion o we , o f And by the glamour a moonlit hour, And by the cries and sighs o fall the birds ’ O ni h ts That sing g , to heed again th e words Of my poor pleading Fo r I S wear to thee M y love is deeper than the bounding sea,
- And more conclusive than a wedd ing bell ,
- And freer voiced than winds upon the lea .
I N all th e world from east unto the west ,
- There is no vantage ground , and little rest, o And no content for me from dawn t dark, From set o f sun to song -time o f the lark ;
no And yet , withal , there is man alive W h o for a goodly cause to make it thrive , Would do such deeds as I would gird me
C ould I but win the pearl fo r which I dive . ‘ 22 S econo L itang.
IT w is thy love wh ich , do nward in the deep
- Off I Of far visions , behold in sleep I t is thy pearl of love wh ich in the nIgh t D I no t oth tempt my soul to hopes dare write, I t I i s this gem for wh ich , had a crown , l ’d barter peace and pomp, and erm ined gown It o f is thy troth , thou paragon maids I’ For which d sell the j oys o fall renown .
I WOU LD attack a pan ther in its den i o f To do thee serv ce as thy man men, o r l O r front the Fates, , l ike a ghou , confer
With staring ghosts outside a sepulchre . I would forego a l imb to give thee life,
O r yield my soul itself in any strife, In any coil Of doubt , in any spot Wh ere D eath and D anger meet as man and
IT is my solace, all my n ights and days,
To pray for thee and dote on thee always , And e ve rrno re to count myself a king
Because I earned thy favour in the spring . o n Oh , smile me and call m e to thy side , I to And will kneel th ee , as to a bride, And yet adore thee as a saint in H eaven Go d By ordained, by good men glorified 2 190g Elmo tte . 3
LL I WI acquaint thee w ith m ine inmost thought, I And teach thee all know, though unbesought, And make thee prouder Of a poet’s dream
Than wealthy men are proud of what they seem . If thou have trust therein , if thou require
e rvrce o f o r S me, song, or penance dire, I will Obey thee as thy belted knigh t, ’ Or die to satisfy thy heart s desire .
AH thou hast that in store wh ich none can give S ave thou alone and I am fain to live o f To watch the outcome so fair a gift , T O see the bright good morrow loom an d lift, u — And know that tho , unpeered beneath the moon , — to U ntamed Of men , untutored the tune — co Of lip with lip , wilt cease thy y disdai n
And learn th e languors o f the loves Of J une .
V I I I .
A LL I I that am , and all hope to be , I s thine till death and though I d ie fo r th ee E ach day I live and though I throb and thrill At thoughts th at seem to burn me and to chill In I my dark hours , revel in the same
Ye t I o fh O e am free p , as thou Of blame, tn e And all around , wakeful and in sleep, I to weave a blessing for thy soul claim . 2 4 S econo l itany.
O H , by thy radiant hair and by the glow — Of thy full eyes , and by thy breast Of sn ow, And by the buds thereof that have the flush
Of infant roses when they strive to blush ,
And by thy voice, melod ious as a hell ’ That rings for prayer in God s high citadel , B I y all these th ings , and more than can urge , I S o o ut o f charge thee , weet t let me hell
IS it no t H ell to live so far away — o r And not to touch thee , n ot by night day
o f o n To be partaker e smile Of thine , o ne f O r commingling O thy breath and mine, O r o ne encounter Of thine amorous mouth ? I dwell apart from thee , as north from south, I As east from western ways dwell apart, A nd taste the tears that quench n ot any drouth .
W H Y wouldst thou take th e memo ry o fa wrong
T o be thy shadow all the summer long ,
A thing to ch ide thee at the dead of n igh t , A th ing to wake thee with th e morn ing light
Fo r - self upbraiding, wh ile the wan ton bird I w ? o nvests the elkin Ah , by j y deferred , B — do y peace withheld from m e , thou relen t And dower my life to - day with o ne love - word 2 100g Elmot te. 5
O LDST C - W U thou , assandra wise , oppress my soul
e- With more un rest, and , H eb like , the bowl Of festal comfort for a moment raise T O ? my poor lips, and then avert thy gaze Wouldst make m e mad beyond th e daily curs e
Of thy displeasure , and in wrath disperse o f That halcyon draught, that nectar th e mind , Wh ich is the theme I yearn to in my verse ?
X I I I .
O H , by thy pity wh en so sligh t a thing
As some small bird is wounded in the win g,
Avert thy scorn , and gran t me, from afar,
At least the righ t to love thee as a star,
h o w The right to turn to th ee, the right to
no w To thy pure name and evermore , as , o wn To thy thraldom and to sing thereon , In proud allegiance to m ine earliest vow .
XI V .
IT were abuse o fpower to frown again I When , all day long, gloat upon the pain
-u h O e Of pent p p , my j oy and my distress , Wh ile the remembrance Ofa mute caress
Giv — a I en to a rose, rose plucked for thee, S eems as the withering Of the world to me ,
I - Because am unloved of thee to day,
- And undes ired as sea weeds in th e sea . 26 S econo l itany.
’ I LL no t believe that eyes so bright as thine
- Were meant for mal ice in the summer shine ,
Or that a glance thereof, though changed to fire ,
o ne S C ould inj ure whose pirit , like a lyre, o o f H as th robbed t music remembered j oys ,
The pride thereof, and all the tender poise — o f Of trust with trust, the symphonies grief — M o wn . ade all mine , and Faith wh ich n ever cloys
XV I .
H o w can it be that o ne so fair as thou S hould w ea r conten tion o n a whiter brow ’ Than May- day D ian s in her hunting gear ? ’ I ll n ot believe that eyes so holy - clear
And mouth - s o constant to its morn ing praye r ’ C ould mock the misch ief o f a man s despair ’ And all the m isery o fa moment s hope
S far . een away, as m ists are seen in air
XV I I .
’ H o w can a woman s h eart be made o fston e
And she n ot know it ? Mine is overthrown . I o o ne have n o heart t day, n o pe rfect , Only a thin g that sigh s at set o f sun
And beats its cage, as if the thrall thereof ’ Were freedom s prison o r the tomb of love
Go d As if, help m e there were shame in
And n o salvation left in realms above .
‘ TI b i t b l i t a ny .
A D TE CL M I A A V .
‘ E b i t b l i t a ny .
A D TE CLA MA VI .
G 0 L I I A A I N , ove again make lament ,
- I - And , Arab l ike , pitch my summer ten t
Outside the gateways o f the Lord of S ong . I weep and wait, contented all day long T o be the proud possessor of a grief.
It comforts me . It gives me more relief
a-nd - Than pleasures give , spirit like in air,
I re - t invokes the peace that was so brief.
IT Of I speaks thee . t keeps me from the lake Which else might tempt me and for thy sweet
I . I no w shun all evil . am calmer
I vo w Than when wooed thee , calmer than the
Which made me th ine , and yet so fond wi thal ’ I start and tremble at the wind s footfall . I s it the wind ? O r is it mine own P ast C ome back to life to lure me to its thrall ? 2 ‘ 3 (Ib it o l itany.
I LO G N to rise and seek thee where thou art , And draw thee amorous to my wakeful h eart
fo r e That beats thee alon e, in vague unr st . ’ I long to front thee when th o u rt lily - dressed ’ In - o f wh ite attire , e en like th e flowers Old
That J esus praised and , th ough the thought be bold , I’m S fain to kiss thee , weetheart through thy hai r,
An d h ide my face awh ile in all that gold .
I LL WI n ot say what more migh t then be done,
o r And how, by moonlight beneath the sun , In We might be happy . a reckless mood ’ I ve talked Of this and dreams and many a brood
- Of tongue tied fancies have my soul beset . I will n ot h int at fealty o r the fret o r Of lips untrue , anger thee th erein ,
O r call to mind o ne word thou wouldst forget .
I S H OU LD withhold my raptures were I wise ve x I should not thee with my many sigh s , ’ ne . O r claim o tear from thee , though tis my due
I sh ould be silent . I sh ould cease to sue S orrow should teach me what I failed to learn In days gone by and crossed at every turn
- o f By some new doubt , n ew born my desires, I I should suppress the pangs with wh ich burn . no (lie Glamavi. 33
I A M an outcast from the land Of love , e And thou the Qu en thereof, as white as dove N e w- e to sped from H eav n , and fine and fair see co Mab o ut As y Q ueen when , upon the lea ,
S h e met her master and was loved o fhim .
- Thou art allied to long hai red cherubim , I And a something undesired Of these ,
With woesome lips and eyes fo r ever d im .
I WA S ordained thy minstrel , but alas I dare not greet thee when I see thee pass I scarce, indeed , may hope at any time ,
T o o r work my will, triumph in a rhyme
do To thee honour ; n o, nor make amends
For unsought fervour, in the tangled ends H o w to Of my despair. sad , how dark me All things have grown since thou and I were friends
V I I I .
IT o f is the fault thy despotic glance, It is the memory of a day’s romance \V hen , true to thee , though taunted for my truth , I dared to solemn ise the j oys o f youth In o ne I t I wild chant . is thy fault, say l o n o f Ma Thy piteou s fault that , the verge y, I lost the righ t to l ive , as heretofore ,
U ntouched by doubt from day to brightening day . C 3 4 Gb it o l itany.
’ O S U MME R S P ride I loved thee from the first , I And , l ike a martyr, was blest and curst,
And saved and slain , and crowned and made ane w,
- A grief glad man , w ith yearn ings not a few,
But no j ust h ope to win so fair a troth . I should have kn own how o ne may weep for both
When lovers part, poor souls beneath the moon ,
And h o w R emembrance may outlive an oath .
T H E I nymphs , th ink, were like thee in the glade Of that Greek valley where th e w ine was made Fo r feasts o f Bacchus for I dream at n igh t
Of those creation s , kind and calm and brigh t
And in my thought , unhallowed though it be ,
- M z o n The sun born uses turn their ga e me , to And seem kn ow me as a friend Of theirs,
Though all un fit to serve th em o n my knee .
E . T H Y l ived an d sang They died as visions d ie , S o f upreme , eternal , offshoots th e sky ,
M re - ade and made , undraped an d d raped afresh , T o f glad the earth like phantoms made o flesh , And yet as mist - like as delusions are 1 They stood beside Ach illes in h is car ;
They knew the gods and all their j oysome deeds,
And all the chants that sprang from star to star.
‘ 36 (Ib it o l itany.
' MY se x Ofle nds o r o f thee , the thought thi s Fo r I d id frigh t th ee wh en I fle ck e d a kiss
to o . I to With much heat should have bowed thee,
- And left unsaid th e word , deception free ,
'
W h h . h ich , like a flas , illumed th e love wit in My wilfulness was much to blame therein
’ o fle nce But thou w ilt shrive me , S weet Of min e ,
If - passion pangs be deemed so dark a sin .
O H , give me back my soul that with the same
I o f - may ach ieve a deed poet fam e, O r die belauded o n th e battle - fie ld ’ o There s much to seek . My hand is strong t wield o r If Weapon pen . thou consen t thereto D If e eeds may be don e . not, thin e eyes are blu — a And H eaven i s there, twofold tender shrin e I I rue Whose wrath fear, whose judgment still
XVI I .
I A M but half myself. The life in me I o u I s nigh crushed t and , though seem to see G o lory, and grace , and j y, as in th e past,
n z They are but shadows o the co en ing blast, f And dreams o devils and distorted things ,
And snakes coiled up that look like wedd ing rings , And faded flowers that once were fit for wreaths
In bygone summers and in perished sp rings . 210 Ge Giamavi. 3 7
XV I I I .
E R E TH is a curse in every garden place , ’ And when , at n ight , the lily s holy face
L Go d . ooks up to , it seems to ch ide me there The very sun with all his golden hai r 15 ill at ease, and birth and death Of day Bring no relief ; and darkly on my way
M - o f D y memory comes, the ghost my elight , o T fret and fume at woes it can not slay .
X I X .
b id O H , me smile again , as in the time
When all the breezes seemed to make a chime , And all the birds o n all the woodland slopes
H ad trills for me , and seemed to guess the hopes
That warmed my heart . 0 thou whom I adore
r w I - - H ow p oud ere , though wounded bitter sore
- if o f By shafts of doubt , , in default love
I could but win thy friendship as of yore .
E I TH N were blest indeed , and crowned of fate
As kings are crowned , as bards in their estate
- re - Are rapture fraught, risen above the dust .
I - o n Then were torture proof, and the crust
o ne Of kin d word , though as a pittance thrown , I’d M I live for weeks y tears would disown ,
And pray, contented with my d isconten t ,
As hermits pray when storms are overblown . f o u rt h l i t a ny .
G R A TI A P L E N A .
jfo u rt b l i t a ny .
GR A TI A P LE N A
o f I O H , smile on me , thou siren my soul That I may curb my thoughts to some control I And not offend thee , as i n truth do , M I u orning, and noon and n ight , when p rsu e M y vagran t fancies , unallowed of thee , But fraught with such con solement unto me As may be felt in homeward - sailing sh ips
Wh en wind and wave contend upon the sea .
D OW ER me with patience and imbue me still
With some reminder, wh e n the n igh t is ch ill ,
- Of thy dear presence , as , in winter time ,
The maiden moon , that tenderly doth cl imb to S The lofty heavens , hath yet a beam pare For doleful wretches in their dungeon - lair ’ E e n thus endow me in my chamber dim With some rem inder o fthy face so fair 2 4 ilfourtb l itany.
T Q U I thou thy body wh ile thou sleepest well , at An d visit m ine midn ight , by the spell o f That knows not shame . For in the H ouse S leep All things are pure and in the s ilence deep ’ I ll - wai t for thee, and thou , contrition wise, o n Wilt seek my couch and this that i t lies , Th is frame Of mine that l ives fo r thee alon e
As palmers live for peace th at never d ies .
I T were a goodly thing to spare a foe ’ And kill his hate . And I would e en do so
o r I o f F would kill the coyness thy face . I would enfold thee in my spurned embrace
And kiss th e kiss that gladden s as with wine .
Ye a I o f , would wrestle with those arms thine , I And , l ike a victor, would van qu ish thee , ’ - I d . And , tyrant like , teach thee to be m ine
FO R , what is peace that we should cling thereto If war be wisest If the death we woo B e fraught with fervour there’s delight in death There is persuasion in the tempest’s breath N o t known in calm and raptures round us flow b o w When , l ike an arrow th rough the bended two o f O f fond lips , the qu ivering dart love no B rings down the kiss which saints shall t bestow .
44 ifout tb l itany.
D I FO U N the glove down yonder in the dale . ’ I - knew twas th ine its colour, creamy pale , “ I Filled me with j oy . A prize cried aloud ,
z And snatched it up , as ealous then , and proud, As o ne who wins a knighthood in his youth I And was moved thereat, in very sooth ,
o ft o n H And kissed i t , and called kindly eaven
T O be th e spon sor Of min e amorous truth .
I E A R N ED the ribbon as we earn a smile
For service done . I helped thee at th e stile ’ w And so t as m ine , my trophy, as Of righ t .
Oh , n ever yet was ribbon half so brigh t It - — a seemed of sky descent, strip Of morn o n — a - Thrown th e sod , someth ing summer worn
T o be my guerdon and, enriched therewith , m I co . followed thee, thy suitor, through th e
I T R D n I O o ai r. seemed to hear th e sound O f fife s and trumpets and th e quick rebound — Of bells unseen , the storming Of a tower
By imps audacious , an d the sovereign power
- r Of some arch fai y, thine acquaintance su re
In fo r days gone by , all the land was pure,
- — As if n ew blest , the land and all the sea
And all th e welkin where th e stars endure . s t atia miena . 45
W E j ou rn eyed o n through fields that were a - glow With cowslip buds and daisies white as snow
And hand in hand , we stood beside a shrin e h ard At wh ich a , whom lovers deem d ivine ,
L w we az e d a aid do n h is life and, as t th is , g ‘ There seemed to issue from th e wood’s abyss o f A sound trills, as if, in its wild way, o n A n ightingale were pondering a kiss .
X I I I .
L E I no A A N was reached that led know t where , U to — fo r nless H eaven , H eaven was surely there , And thou so near it 1 An d with in a nook A - down whose covertness a noisy brook
Did o f I r o f talk peace , lea n t thee my fate T h e o f word pity that was kin to hate , ’ The voice o f reason that was reason s fo e Because it spurned the love that was so great
XIV.
B m U T I . I ust pause must , from day to day, K eep back my tears , and seek a surer way ’ M . I Than emory s track must, with lifted eyes ,
R e - - shape my life, and h eed th e battle cries
Of prompt amb ition , and be braced at call T o do such deeds as haply may befall, If o f , freed thee , and chartered to myself, I may undo th e bonds that now enthrall . jfout tb l itany.
S HA LL I do this ? I S h all and thou shalt see I S igns Of rebellion . will turn t o thee
And claim Obedience . I will make it plain o to H ow many a link may g form a chain ,
And each a circlet, each a ring to wear I will extract the sting from my despai r to And y therewith , as with a charmed snake ,
L - That , amia l ike , uprears itself in air.
XV I .
O R o ne is my boast a vain , an empty , And shall I rue it ere th e day is don e ? Will hope revi ve betimes ? Or must I stand Fo r evermore outs ide the fairyland ? Of thy good will Alas my place i s here, T o muse and moan and sigh and shed my tear, M n no t y paltry tear for o e who loves me ,
- And would no t mourn for me o n my death bier.
XV I I .
O H , get thee hence , thou harbinger Of light
That , like a dream , dost come to me at n igh t
T o ro b haun t my sleep, and me Of content,
S o - true untrue , so deaf to my lament,
I must forego the pride I felt therein . I Aye , get thee hence And will crush th e sin , If da s in it be, that prompts me , n ight and y,
To seek in thee th e bliss I cannot win . (Bratia Diana. 47
XV I I I .
O R , if thou needs must haun t me after dark , I T h e C ome when wake . oriole and the lark
O f o ft I Are friends thine and , know, the th rush
- H as trilled Of thee at morn and even blush . And flowers have made confessions unto me At which I marvel for they rail at thee s e e mlih o o d And call thee heartless in thy ,
- Though queen elect o fall th e flowers that be .
X IX .
N A Y i I I , heed me not rave am possessed I B y utmost longing. am sore Oppressed By thoughts o fwoe and in my heart I feel u o f A something keener than th e to ch steel ,
- As if, to day, a danger unforeseen — H ad tracked thy path , as if my prayers had been
M o r - isj udged in H eaven , drowned in demon sh outs o f Beyond the boundaries the coasts terrene .
B U T this is clear ; thi s much at least is true I am th ine o wn I I doat upon the blue
Of thy kind eyes , well knowing that in these Are proofs Of Go d and down upon my knees I fall subservien t, as a man in shame
Ma y Own a fault albeit, as with a flame , I burn all day , abashed and unforgiven , And all unfit to touch the hand I clai m I jfift b l i t a ny.
S A L VE R E GI N A .
2 5 f ifth l itany.
I A M no t worthy Of th e H eaven I name \Vh en I name thee and yet to win the same I s I I still my d ream . strive as best can T O l ive uprigh tly o n th e vaunted plan
- I no Of Old world sages . But strive t well And thoughts conflicting wh ich I cannot quell M I ake me desponden t and quake thereat ,
A S at the shuddering o f a doomsday bell .
T o die fo r thee were more than my desert T o live for th ee to keep th ee out Of hurt
And , l ike a slave, to wait upon thy will 10 I still Were more than fame . And l n ou rish
A sense Of calm to feel that thou , at least , Art sorrow -free an d honoured at th e feast Which N ature spreads for all contented minds
And that fo r thee its splendours have increased .
I S T D . I A N alon e stand beneath th e trees, I guess their though ts I h ear them to th e breez e S ay tender n oth ings and I d ream the wh ile
Of thy white arms , and thy remembered smile ,
\V a- hen , in a spot l ike this , a year gon e, I saw thee stoop to pluck from Off the lawn A wounded bi rd that peered into thy face As if i t took thee fo r the nymph o f dawn S alve R egina . 53
o f O H , can it be , as friends thine affi rm , ’ th o u rt — to That a fairy, that, from term term ,
M o f onth after mon th , beloved all good th ings , ’ Th o u rt seen in forests and in meadow rings Girt for the dance ? o r like an Oread queen Arrayed for council ? Fo r th e woods convene
Their dryad forces when the n ights are clear,
And nymphs and fawns carouse upon the green .
T H E o f crescent moon , the Argosy heaven ,
' ' Ple Iads Veers for the west across the seven , ’ o f C And , out beyond the ridge harles s Wain , It seems to come to mooring o n the main w Of that deep sky, as if a aiting there
- u w An angel g est ith sunligh t in her hair, ’ o r - A seraph s cousin , the foster ch ild
Of some centurion of the upper ai r.
VI I I .
IS it thy soul ? H as Cynth ia called for thee ’ In to her white boat , take thee o er the sea Where suns and stars and constellations bright ’ o f — w Are isles glory, here a seraph s righ t S urpasses mine , and makes m e seem indeed w ’ A base intruder, ith a coward s creed ’ C And not an angel s , though a h ristian born And pledged always to serve thee at thy need 54 with l itany.
O ’E T TH U sleeping now and in thy snowy rest , In that seclusion wh ich is l ike a nest Fo r blameless human maids beheld o f those
Wh o Go d — com e from , thou hast in thy repose
N O — - thought Of m e , n o thought Of pairing t ime . ’ Fo r th o u rt the sworn Opponent o fth e rhyme That lovers make in kissing and anon M y ve ry love will ve x thee l ike a crime .
B T - e U day and n ight , an d winter tid and spring, Change at thy voice and wh en I hear thee sing ’ I know tis May and when I see thy face ’ ’ I S . Th o u rt G know tis ummer the youngest race, M An d all th e uses praise thee evermore . And there are bi rd s wh o name thee as they soar ;
o f — And some these , the best and brightest ones ,
H ave guessed th e pangs that pierce me to th e core .
TH O U art th e month o f May w ith all its n ights And all its days transfigure d in th e lights Of love - lit smiles and glances multiform
And , like a lark that sings above a sto rm , ’ o r- f Thy voice e rides the tumult o my mind . I Oh , give me back the peace strove to find ’ I n I ll my last prayer, and believe th at H ope
Will d ry anon the tears that make it blind . S alve 1Regina . 55
’ ER E S o ne TH none like thee , not in all the world
N O - face so fai r, no sm ile so sweet impearled , And no such music on the h ills and plains As thy young voice whereof the thrill remains
Fo r — hours and hours , bel ike to keep al ive o f The sen se beauty that the flowers may thrive . O r is’t thy wish that birds should fly to thee ’ Before th e days o fApril s quest arrive ?
X I I I .
’ — ’ T H OU R T noble natured and there s none to s tand O o r S meek as thou , with so dear a h and P o f G To ward Off wrong . For syche the reeks I s dead and gone and E ros with hi s freaks to H as bowed thee, and turned aside, for shame, e H is usel ss shaft, not daring to proclaim
w - co H is amorous la s , and thou so maiden y Beneath the halo O f thy spotless name
X IV .
BU T I dream s are idle , and must forget I All that they tend to . must cease to fret, M I oth as am , for stars beyond the reach Of mine tip - soaring and in m ilder speech I must invoke thy blessing o n the ro a d — That lies before me , far from thine abode, And far from all persuasion that again
- Thou wilt accept the terms o f my love code . f ifth l itany.
0 S W E ET forgive me that from day to d ay I dream such dreams , and teach me h ow to sway M y fluttering self, that , in forsaken hours, I may be valian t , and esch ew the powers Of death and doubt I need the certitude Of thine esteem that I may check the feud Of mine o wn th ough ts that rend and anger me
B ecause den ied the boon for wh ich I sued .
XV I .
E C to fo r T A H me wait with patience a word , And be the sigh t o fthee no more deferred Than one up - rising o f th e Vesper star o n D That waits ian when , suprem e , afar,
S h e . o f eyes the sunset And thi s be sure, I’m As a man and thou a maid demu re , ’ Thou shal t be ta en aside and wondered at ,
Before the gloam ing leaves th e land obscu re .
XV I I .
TH O U shalt be bowed to as we b o w to saints I n windowed sh rines and , far from all attain ts
Of ribald passion , thou , as seemeth good ,
Wilt smile serenely in thy virginhood .
o r I w o wn N shall kno , Of mine poor accord ,
Wh ich thing in all the world is best t o hoard , O r which is worst of all th e things that slay ’ ’ A woman s beauty o r a soldie r s sword . S alve 1Regina . 57
XV I I I .
l GR I EV E in sleep . I pine away at nigh t . I wake , uncared for, in the morn ing l ight I And , hour by hour, marvel that for me The wandering w ind should make its minstrelsy
S o w . I s eet and calm marvel that th e sun ,
o S round and red , with all his hai r undone, S hould smile at me and yet begrudge me still The sight o fthee that art my worsh ipped o ne
X I X .
I C OU N T my moments as a cloistered man May count h is beads and through th e weary span Of each long day I peer into my heart
Fo r Of I r h ints comfort and find , in pa t ,
- A self committal , and a glimpse withal Of some ne w menace in th e rise and fall Of days and n ights that are the test o f Time
Though Fate would make a mockery Of them all .
’ E R E S TH a disaster worse than loss Of gold ,
W - orse than remorse, and worse a thousand fold , ’ . o f Than pangs Of hunger Tis the th irst love , The rage and rapture Of the raven ing dove
D . I We name esire Ah , pardon Offend . My fervour blinds me to the withering end
Of all good counsel , and , accurst thereby, I I vaunt anew th e faults cannot mend .
S i xt h l i t a ny .
B E N ED I C TA T U
I TELL S no t o n thee , weet there lives the earth A love l ike mine in all the h eight and girth
And all the vast completion Of th e sphere . I o d to sh ould be proud , t ay, shed a tear
If I could weep . But tears are most denied When most besought and j oys are sanctified ’ By j oys undoing in this world o fours o From dusk t dawn and dawn to eventide .
WER T thou a marble maid an d I endowed With power to move thee from thy seeming Shroud — Of frozen splendour, all thy wh iteness mine,
And all the glamour, all the tender sh ine — Go d Of thy glad eyes , ah , if th is were so,
I - And the loosener, in the summer glow, Of thy long tresses I I were licensed then
T O o n f . gaze , unchidden , thy limbs o snow 62 S ixth l itany.
I WOU LD prepare for thee a holy n iche I n some n ew temple, and with draperies rich , o f And flowers and lamps and incense the best, I would with someth ing o f min e o wn unrest I mbue thy blood and prompt thee to be j ust . I would endow thee with a fairer trust
Than mere contentment, an d a dearer j oy
Than mere revulsion from the sins o fdust .
B D o f A A N boys , with psaltery and w ith lyre, C o f An d yprian girls, the slaves thy des ire , Would chan t and pray and raise S O wild a storm Of golden notes around thy sculptured form T hat saints would hear the ch orus up in H eaven , And intermingle with their holy steven
o f The sighs earth , an d long for other cares ’ Than those ordained them by the Lord s E leven .
’ I WOU LD approach thee with a master s tread And claim thy hand and have the service read By youthful priests resplendent every one An d in thy frame th e blood Of thee would run
As warm and sound as wine Of S yracuse . And all that day th e birds would bear the news
In - fl o we rs far directions , an d the meadow
- W . ould dream thereof, love laden , in the dews JseneOicta Uu. 63
E — TH N , by magnetic force, the greatest known —I This side the tomb, would athwart th e ston e
Of thy wh ite body, in a trice Of time , C all forth thy soul , and woo th ee to the chime
Of t inkling bells , and make thee half afraid ,
And half aggrieved , to find thyself arrayed In such enthralment , and in such attire,
In sight o f o ne whose w ill should n ot be stayed .
A N D P I , like ygmal ion , would claim anon A bride’s submi ssion and my talk thereon Would not perplex thee for the sense o f life
Would warm thy heart, and urge thee to the strife
Of lip with lip, and kiss with pulsing kiss ,
we o f Wh ich gives the clue to all know bliss , And all we know o fheights we long to climb ’ o f Beyond the boundaries the grave s abyss .
V I I I .
T H E dear old deeds ch ivalrous once again Would find fulfilment and the curse o f C ain o n o n Which fell woman , as men it fell , ’ Would fly from us , as at a sorcerer s spell , And leave us wiser than the soph ists are
. N S Who love not folly ight hould not debar, N o r day dissuade us , from those ecstacies ’ A n cr o n - That have a e s fame for guiding star. 64 S ixth l itany.
A YE thou wouldst kneel and seek in me apace A transient shelter fo r th in e amorous face Which then I’d screen and thou to me wouldst turn
- to With awe struck eyes, and cling me and yearn , o f With sighs full tender and a touch fear.
And , like a bird wh ich knows that spring is near, S And , after pring, the summer Of sweet days,
- Thou wouldst attune thy love notes in mine ear.
R to O , fraught with feel ings near akin hate , o ne Thou wouldst denounce me and, l ike elate ,
Thou wouldst entwine me in th ine arms so wh ite,
- As soldier nymphs , with rapt and raging sight,
M war o f ade with spearsmen in the vales song, o f S fo r o r Th e vales parta where, right wrong, ’ fo r Th e gods were potent, and , beauty s sake,
U pheld th e tourneys o f the fair and strong .
I W OULD no t seem to o w ilful in the heat
o r o r Of u encounter, wi th sighs repeat I T OO fierce a vow . would throughout confess
Thy mu rderous m irth , thy con quering loveliness , And then subdue thee Tears would n ot avail
no r o r N o r prayer, praise and , flushed th e wh ile pale ,
Thou shouldst be mine , my hostage in the night , ’ Without the Option o f a moment s bail . JEencb icta mi. 65
O M to TH U shouldst be mine y hopes, from first last,
- Would win their way and , lithe and love aghast, A nd all unne rved , thou wouldst, as in a dream E ntreat my pardon I I would callous seem
- I o n T o th ine o ut yearn ing . would cast thee A question ing look, and then , upon my knee , I would surrender to that face o fthine ’ Which is the great world s wonder unto m e .
XI I I .
E E I I O H AV N could this be done , and fulfil w One half my ish , and curb thee to my will , I were a prompter and a prouder man T han earth has known since light - foot lovers
O f For Atalanta , loved men and boys . I w e ere a kaiser th n , a king i oys , And fit to play with high -begotten pomps
As ch ildren play with pebbles or with toys .
XIV .
O GO LD E N H ai r ! 0 Gladness o fan H our Made flesh and blood O be auteous H um an Flower
T O O w - s eet to pluck, and yet, though seeming cold , I o f O ld Ordained to love pray thee , as , I Be kind to me . saw thee yesternigh t, And for an instan t I was u rged to pligh t My troth again for in thy face I saw What seemed a smile evoked for my deligh t 66 S ixth l itany.
R E - GR A N T thy favour ! Take me by the hand o wn And lead me back again to th ine land , n The ook supreme , the sanctum in the glen — Where pixies walk, unknown to peevish men And shrew - like women whom no faith upl ifts I S how me th e place where N ature keeps the gifts
S h e - most approves , and where th e song bi rds dwell , I’ll f And forego the land o l ittle thrifts .
XV I .
T H E moon i s mother and th e sun is s ire
Of those young planets which , w ith infan t fire , H ave late been found in regions too remote
Fo r uicklie r q search and these , in time , will dote o f An d wh irl and wanton in the realms space . For th ere are comets in the n ightly ch ase \Vh o see strange things un talked Of by th e bards
- And earth herself has found a t rysting place .
I X V I .
’ A N D so tis clear that sun and moon and stars Are linked by love The marriage -feast of Mars ’ V . Was fixed long since . Tis enus whom he wed s ’Tis she alone for whom he gaily treads ’ H i s path o f splendour ; and of S aturn s ring
H e knows the symbol , an d w ill have, in spring,
- S C A n igh t betrothal , n ear the outhern ross
And all th e stars will pau se thereat and s ing .
S e ve nt h l i t a ny .
S TE L LA MA T UTI N A .
S e ve nt h l i t a ny.
MA T U TI N A S TE LLA .
R E P A I S , fair hoebus and with looks serene S urvey th e world which late th e orbed Queen
D id pave w ith pearl to please enamoured swains . I D Arise Arise The ark is bound in chains , ’ r And th o u t immortal , and thy throne is here
T o sway the seasons, and to make it clear
H o w much we need thee , O thou silent god I
That art the crowned c on troller Of the year .
A N D wh ile the breezes reconstruct for thee
The shimmering clouds and while, from lea to ’ The great earth reddens with a maid s delight , I Behold bring to thee , as yesternight,
- D O My subj ect song . thou protect apace M o ne — m P y peerless , y eri with th e face
That is a marvel to the m inds Of men , fo r o f And like a flower humbleness grace . 7 2 S eventh l itany.
T H E o r I earth wh ich loves thee , much have erred ,
The glad , green earth wh ich waits , as for a word ,
— u - The sound Of thee, p shuddering through the
m o m ,
D a Th e restive earth is pleased when y is born , And soon will take each separate silen t beam — As proof Of sex, exulting in the dream
i oys to come, and quickened and convulsed , ’ Y . ear after year, by love s triumphant theme
A T H O US A N D times the flowers in all the fields Will b o w to thee and with their little sh ields
- The daisy folk will muster o n the plain .
A th ousan d songs th e birds will sing again , As swee t to hear as quiverings o f a lute I And she love w ill sing, for thy repute ,
S h e s m s w Full many a song . g hen she but speaks ; ’ S And when sh e s n ear the birds hould all be mute .
0 MY Beloved from thy curtained bed
Arise , rej oice , upl ift thy golden head , I o n And be an in stant, wh ile muse this ,
o As nude as statues , and as good t kiss
S t. As dear Agnes when she met her death ,
U o f nclad and pure and patient her breath , o f - And with the grace Go d for wedding gown ,
As many an ancient story witnesseth . S tella {th atutina 7 3
T H E o f bath , the plunge , the combing the hair, I — a All th is view, sight beyond compare S ince Daphne died in all th e varied charms — Of her chaste body, rounded regal arms , to o And shape supreme , fai r for human gaze , ’ But not to o fair to win the m irro r s praise That th rob s to see thee in thy déshabille And loves thee well through all the n ights and
I SE E thee thus i n fancy, as i n books
' ' na Iads o f A man may see the the brooks, As one entranced by potion s aptly given Ma y see the angels where they walk in H eaven , m a no t And y gre et them in thei r high estate . For who shall guess the riddle wrough t Of Fate Till he be dead ? An d wh o that lives a span S hall thwart the Future where it lies in wait ?
V I I I .
A N D now to - day a word I dare not write S tarts to my lips , as wh en a baffled kn ight \Vithh o lds a song wh ich fain h e would repeat 10 i F or the sense thereof i s passing sweet, ’ And , like a cup that s full , my h eart i s filled Wi th ne w desires and quiverings new - di stilled From Old deligh ts and all my pulses th rob
- As at t he touch o fd reams d ivinely willed . 74 S eventh l itany.
W H O talks o f comfort when he sees thee not And feels n o fragrance o f th e happy lo t to Wh ich violets feel , when called upon lie On thy wh ite breast And who with amorous eye L c d ooks at the lear tomb Of the shud ering flowers , The two - fold tomb where daintily for h ours
—wh o I They droop and muse , looks , say, at these And w ill not o wn th e w itchery Of thy powers ?
W H O speaks Of glory an d th e force Of love , i — And thou n ot near, my ma den m inded dove
- With all the coyn ess , all the beauty sheen ,
? - Of thy rapt face A fearless virgin queen , — A queen Of peace art thou i and o n thy head The golden light Of all thy hair is sh ed
M - to o ost n imbus like an d most suggestive , ,
Of youthful saints ensh rined and garlanded .
’ ’ TH O U E T N ature s o wn and wh en a word o fthine
R o n D ings th e air, and wh en the Voice ivin e
u flo a ts We call th e lark p amid the blue , I no t w know h ich is wh ich , for both are true ,
. Both m eant for H eaven , th ough fostered here below fl o w And when the silences aroun d me , I th ink Of lilies and th e face o f thee ’ Wh ich hath compelled my m anhood s overthrow .
6 7 S eventh l itany.
XV .
I LO V E thee when the soft endearing flush I nvades thy face, and dimples in the blu sh — ’ B espeak attention , as a rose s pout o ut Absorbs the stillness wh en the sun is ,
And all th e air retains the glow thereof. I n all the world there i s n ot light enough N or sheen enough , all day, n or any warmth , f Till thou be near m e, armed with some rebu f
XV I .
A N D how I love thee wh en thy startled eyes L ook out at me , enrapt in that surprise I Which marks an epoch in th e life lead , ’ A s if they guessed the scope Of E ros creed
And all th e mi rth and malice Ofhi s wiles . L For it is wond rous when my ady smiles ,
And all the ground i s h oly where sh e treads , And all the air is thrilled for many miles
XV I I .
I N Of o every mood thine thou art my j y,
And , day by day, to shield thee from ann oy, ’ I d do the deeds that slaves were bound unto ’ fo r — With stabs payment , shuddering thro and th ro ’ Vt i th thei r much labour and I d deem it gran d T O die for thee if, after touch Of hand , I migh t but kiss thee as a lover doth Fo r I should then be king Of al l the land . S tella {th atutina 77
I XV I I .
BU T w - Father Time , Old Time ith Janus face ’ L o e r ooks the sphere , and sees no fitting place Fo r thine acceptance for the thrones o fearth w Are much too mean , and in thy maiden orth ’ Th o u rt crowned enough , and throned in very sooth More than th e queens who lord it in their youth O ’er men ’s convictions and he names thy name
As o ne beloved o f N ature and Of Truth .
H E sees the n ights , he sees the veering days , w w The s eet spring season ith its hymn Of praise ,
- — The summer, frondage proud , the autumn pale, w w The winter orn with ithering of th e gale ,
A ll no w to - th is h e sees and , day, in J une ,
H e , too, recalls that rapturous afternoon d w w When all th e fiel s and flo ers ere like a dream , w And all the inds the offshoot of a tun e .
S O I w ill cease to clamour for the past, o f And seek suspen sion my doubts at last ,
I n some ne w way till Fate becomes my friend . I will regain the righ t to re - defend
I h e ar . The love to thee , for good or ill ’ o ur to For though , tis said , griefs have power kill, M w ine let me live , i n mine un orth iness ,
That, spurned of thee, my lips may praise thee still
E i gh t h l i t a ny.
MI N XA D I D O A E U .
E i gh t h l i t a ny .
D O MI N A E XA UD I .
IT seems a year, and more , since last we met , S ince roseate spring repaid , in part, i ts debt ’ To thy bright eyes , and o er th e lowlands fai r Made daffodils so like thy golden hair T I w o n hat , poor retch , h ave kissed them my knees Forget - Me - N ot s peep out beneath the trees
S O I like thin e eyes that have question ed th em , o n And thought thee near, though viewless the breeze .
IT seems a year and yet, when all i s told , ’ Ti s but a week since I was re - en rolled
- Among thy friends . H ow fairy like the scene I H o w gay with lamps H o w fraught with tender sh een Of life and languor ! I was thin e alon e — Alert for thee, intent to catch the tone w — to Of thy s eet voice , and proud be alive T o to call heart a peace for ever flown . 2 8 E ighth l itany.
H A D I not vext thee, as a monk in prayer
Ma y vex a sain t by musing, unaware , ? On evil things A saint i s hard to move ,
to w — I And qu ick chide , and slo , as can prove, ’ T O do what s j ust and yet , in thy despite ,
\Ve o f met again , we too, at dead nigh t I o f And was hopeful in my love thee ,
And thou superb , and matchless , in the light .
I F E LT d istraugh t from gazing over- much At thy great beauty and I feared to touch ’ The dainty han d which E nvy s self hath praised . I feared to greet thee and my soul was dazed And self- convicted in its new design I For was mad to hope to call thee m in e , Aye mad as he who claims a V i rgin ’s love
Because h is l ips have praised her at a sh rine .
I SA W thee there in all the proud array — ’ O f thy young charms , as if a summer s day
H ad leapt to life and made itself a queen ,
ifth e As sylphs , remembering what had been , ’ o ut H ad m issioned thee , from th e world s romance , w To stir my pulse , and th rill m e ith a glance
And once again , allowed , though undesi red , I d id become thy partner in the dance .
E ighth l itany.
B Y righ t of music , for a fleeting term , M w I ine arms en ound thee and held thee fi rm ,
o n — so There my breast , n ear, yet so remote, S O close about me that I seemed to float In — I h o w sunlit rapture , touched know n ot By some suggestion o f a deeper vo w ’ ’ w o n G Than men are ware of h en , lory s track ,
They kneel to angels with uplifted brow .
A D 10 I o N abashed , do recall t mind — unde fine d All that is past the yearn ing , The baulked confession that was like a sob The sound of singing an d the gurgling throb — Of lute and v iol , m ean t for many things But most for m i se ry and a som ething clings C to lose my heart wh ich is not wantonness,
- Though , wanton like, it warms me wh ile it stings .
E — o f T H night return s, that night all th e n ights And I am dowered an ew with such deligh ts As memory feed s on fo r I walked with th ee
In moonlit garden s , and th ere flew to me
w r- A fl o e like m oth , a pin ioned daffodil , ’ o ut From N ature s hand and , beyon d the h ill , There rose a star I j oyed to look upon
Because it seemed the star o fthy good will . 8 E omina E xaub i. 5
’ W E k no w s t sat beneath th e trees , as well thou , ’ With in an arbour wh ich a summe r s boast H ad made ambrosial and we loitered there S ome little space , the wh ile upon th e ai r
U prose the fragrance of uncounted flowers . Ah me how weird a tryste was that o f ours
- And how the moon looked down , so lurid warm , Athwart the stillness o fthe frondage - towers
Di l l l .
I S EEMED to feel thy breath upon my cheek
I I S vainly searched for words longed to peak , But could not utter lest the sound thereof
S hould scare away the elves that wait o n love . ’ And when I spoke to thee twas o f the spot w — Where we ere seated, things that mattered not, U — — I ncared for th ings , the weather, th e new laws
- And , sudden loud, th e wind assailed the grot .
X IV .
A L I TTLE bird was warbling overhead As if to twit m e with th e word unsaid
Wh ich h e , more daring, wh en th e sun was h igh , Trilled to his mate H e knew the tender “ why ’
Of many a pleading, and he knew, meseems , The very key - note to th e lyric dream s
Of all true poets when , by love impelled ,
They search th e secrets o f the woods and streams . 86 E ighth l itany.
’T I S sure that summer, when she reared th e bower And arched the roof and gave i t all the dower
Of all its leaves , and all th e crann ies small ’ - Where wren s look through , tis sure that , after all , S ummer was kind , and mean t to make for m e
— — a o n A shriving place , lighth ouse th e sea — Of all that verdure , that, beneath th e stars ,
I migh t receive o ne quickening glance from thee .
XV I . O H had I dared to wh isper in th ine ear
M - y heart full wish , undaunted by the fear — a o f Of some rebuke flush thy fai r face, A lifted hand to tell m e that the place
- Was fairy fenced , and guarded as by flame .
I o f Oh had dared to court the word blame , ’ That s good for me , n o doubt at eve ry turn ,
M - y life to day were chastened by the same .
XV I I .
B U T I was conscious of a sudden ban
H urled from th e zen ith . I was like the man
Who scaled Olympus , with inten t to bring
N e w no K fire therefrom , and dared t face the ing
Of though t and thunder. I was full prepared — was For thy displeasure , for th e past bared
T o o n- mine looking ; and , with faltering tongue , I left m y languorous meanings undeclared . E omina E xaub i. 8 7
XV I I I .
O LOST Occasion what a th i ng art thou
- — w A three fold key, th e wh en , the here , the how,
The past, the present and the future tense , w All th rown aside . For what A itless sense Of some compunction When the hours are bold
R - eason is shy and rapture , seeming cold , M akes mute surrender of its dearest chance ,
And all for fear of doubts that might be told .
X IX .
B U T could we meet oh i could we meet agai n
O n some such nigh t , unseen upon th e plain , ’ I d L 1 . rob thee , ady of a tardy sm ile
I - would do th is and , for a breathing wh ile , ’ I t would assert a sinne s righ t to pray, ’ A sinner s right to choose , as best he may,
- I w H is patron sain t and ould kneel to thee ,
fo r I And call thee mine, and dote on thee aye
A N D then in summer, when the hours are mad ,
flo we re ts And all the in the fields are glad ,
And all the breezes, like demented things,
w t o n w Outspeed the birds i h sunlight their ings , d In I sum m e t s summer, aye in glorious time, I may perchance be pardoned for th e crime win Of my much love , and thy ben ison E re yet the year has reach ed its golden prime
IRintb l i t any .
M I T E R P I A L I L I U N S N S .
‘ 2 9 IRintb l itany.
O LI LY m ine O Lily tipped w ith gold And welkin - eyed fo r angels to behold ’ When down o n earth Is t well to stand apart And gaze at me and gently break my heart ’ Without one word ? Is t well to seem alway
S o o f grieved to see me , wh en , at fall day,
Thou dost accept the reverence Of mine eyes, But n ot th e h omage that my lips would pay ?
O H , give me back again , at midnigh t hour,
As in the circuit Of that starl it bower,
The right to talk with thee , and be thy friend ,
The right , in some wild way , to make an en d
o r re - Of my submission , to bestow M o n — y troth th ee , despite th e overthrow
e Of all my dr ams , that were my constant care , o f Though less to thee than flakes al ien sn ow .
LL o ne o ne I WI unveil my m ean ings by , And tell thee why the b ird that loves the sun
L . oves not the moon , though conscious Of her fame ’ F r o he s the soul of truth , in h is acclaim , And knows not treason And o flike intent
I . Are all my yearnings , too , when lament I ’ And , though say it , th ere s n o troubadour ’ ’ lo v d I C . H as as , since upid s bow was bent l ilium sitter S pinas . 9 3
I E we d HAV been in sleep , and th ou hast been
— w - Mine own true bride, the s oon ing summer queen
- I Of my heart th robs . have been wed in j est I have been taken wildly to thy breast ,
e And then rep lled , and made to feel th e ire Of eager eyes that have the strange desire
— a - To rack my soul , tremble in the dark,
But not the will to aid me to aspire .
I S H O U LD have died the instant that I heard T h o w — y v in slumber, when a whispered word
— I di Made me thy master. for d receive I’ll Thy full surrender, and not believe T hat all was false or that my dreaming-power T h e Was given for nought . Future may devou r
o fe The facts arth , but not its phantasies , h And n ot th e dreams we d ream from hour to our .
V I I I .
’ O H , thou lt confess that love from man to maid I — s more than kingdoms , more than light and shade
In - sky built gardens where th e minstrels dwell , o f And more than ransom from the bonds H ell . I Thou wilt, say , admit the truth of this , — And half relent than shrinking from a kiss,
Thou didst consign me to min e own d isdain ,
Athwart the raptures of a visioned bliss . 9 4 1ninth l itany.
I’LL w seek n o j oy that is not linked ith th ine ,
N O touch of hope , n o taste of holy wine ,
A nd no , after death , home in any star
That is not shared by thee , supreme , afar, ’ As here th o u rt first an d foremost o fall th ings Glory i s thine and gladness and the wings
T o n - hat wait thought when , in thy spirit sway,
Thou d ost invest a realm unknown to kings .
I W I LL accept o fthee a poison - bowl — And drink th e dregs th ereof, aye to th e soul , And sound thy praises with my latest breath I N was a pilgrim bound for azareth , w I I But hen knew thee , wh en touched thy hand , I changed my purpose and t o day I stan d
Thine amorous vassal , though denounced afresh
w w E . And arned a ay, unkissed , from denland
O F LO W E R unequalled here from m o m to morn ’ ’ Is t well , beth ink th ee, w ith a rose s thorn
T O l deck thyself, thou lily and to seem S o irrespon sive to my passion -d ream ’ l s t a caprice of th in e to look so proud , w And so severe , ath art the sh ining cloud Of thy long hai r ? And shall I n ever learn H o w least to grieve thee when my vows are vowed ? l ilium S itter S pinas . 9 5
T H E full perfection o fthy face is such ’ w That , like a child s , it seems to kno the touch
Of some glad h ou r that G o d has smiled upon . T w w here is a hi teness white r than the s an , ’ A singing s weeter than the linnet s note ; w But there is n othing hiter than thy th roat , And nothing s weeter than th y tender voice
- S w . When , love attuned , it ky ard seems to float
X I I I .
LI LY and rose in o ne I T o find thy peer E xceeds belief, all through the varying year
For chance thereof, and hope thereof, is none . T here comes no rival to the rising sun , And non e to thee — n o rival to the moon T V o n hat sets in en ice the far lagoon , Of And n one to thee, thou marvel the months , That art the cynosure o fn ight and noon I
X I V .
Y E S I w . I w , ill hope ill not cease to turn M y thoughts to thee , and cry to th ee, and yearn , As o ne in H ell may lift enamoured eyes To some s weet soul beyond the central skies I ’ I w Whose face has slain him For tis true , s ear I have been murdered by thy golden hair, And by the brightness of those fringed orbs T hat are at once my j oy and my despai r. 6 9 Tninth l itany.
TER — W I N is wild , but spring will com e again . ’ And there s compunction in the fever - pain
Which earth endures , when , clamorous down th e steep ,
w - The ind out blows the curse it cannot keep . n And so, belike , thy scorn of me may ch a ge T osomething fai rer than th e fated range
Of dole, and doubt , an d pity, and reproof ; to And th en my sigh s may cease seem so strange .
XV I .
FO R I no t thou and will meet and be foes , ’ E e n as th e rue may stand beside the rose it — And n ot affront , as a lon ely tree May guard a sh rine and n ot upon th e lea
r — B e deemed obt u sive , as an errant knight ’ May serve the sovereign o fhi s soul s delight
And n ot , thereby, be deemed Of less account
Than h e wh o keeps h er daily in his sight .
XV I I .
S AH , purn me n ot that in the world of m en , Among th e wielders o fth e sword and pen I ’ h ave , as twere , detractors by the score , N o I S purn me no t for faults that I deplore — if I An d fain would alter, though , were wise, I ’d blunt th e edge thereof in some disguise ’ Approved o f thee I Fo r I ve a ki nd o fhope ’ That we ll be friend s again ere summer dies . l ilium (i nte r S pinas . 9 7
XV I I I .
I F this be true I’ll greet thee with such fire
That thou wilt th rob thereat , as th robs a lyre ,
And give th ine answer, too, without restraint , And neither frown at me no r fear a taint In w my much zeal , that kno s not any pause
But, n ight and dav , is constant to the laws o wn Of its making, and is fain to prove ’ H ow leagued it is throughout to H onor s cause .
I W I LL conceal from thee no thought o f mine . All will be clear as sign ing Of a S ign
- I On marriage scrips and , though tell th ee so , The seas and streams of earth shall cease to flow
E re o r thou shalt find , in this world th e next , lo ve A so proud , a faith so firmly sexed , ’ Fo r h o u r As th is of mine . t t th e polar star
To wh ich I turn as m instrel to h is text .
B T w ’ I M U oe s the hour y heart is wounded sore,
And soon may cease to take , as heretofore ,
S uch keen deligh t in tears that comfort not, B ut evermore do seem to leave a blot On sorrow’s teach ing I S hall I muse thereon h O e ? One season more , till p and faith be gon e Or must I look for comfort up in H eaven And then be slain by thee as night by dawn ? G
(te nt h l i t any .
G L O R I A I N E X C E L S I S .
0 LO V E I O Lustre of the sunlit earth That know s th y step and revel s in th e worth ’ I Is t Of thy much beauty thy will anew , I Famed as thou art , to marvel that sue \V ith such persi stence , and in such un rest, Amid the frenzies Of my passion - quest ? \V ilt look ungently, and without a tear, On all the pangs I bear at thy behest ?
MO R G e ve I I N I N and cease n ot , when kneel ’ T O my R edeemer for my S pirit s weal ’ — And for my body s , as becomes a man Morn ing and eve I cease not in the span 0 U I Of all my days , thou ncon quered One
T o pray for thee , and do what may be done
re - r I To acqui e the friendship have lost,
ich \Vh is the holiest th ing beneath the sun . 1 0 2 (tenth l itany.
FO R what is fame that with so loud a voice ’ O e rs ways th e nations ? What the random choice Of sight and soun d wh ich makes the place we fill S o o f fraugh t with good , so redolent ill Where is the thunderstorm o fyestern igh t That shook the clouds ? And where the levin ’s bligh t That spake of ch aos and the J udgment D ay ’ And where the wisdom o fa king s deligh t ?
C LD I o f o r o f OU be kissed thee , crowned men , ’ I ’d e I d choose th e kiss . be ordain d then L o f no t I ord myself, and the slave seem — T o each n ew doubt I Ou r tryste was like a dream ’ o ft - And yet twas true for , by wonder chance,
We find the path to m any a brigh t romance , And many a t ilt and tourney o f dear love
In which th e brave are vanqui shed by a glance .
T o o ne lie alone with thee l ittle hour, to to And cling thee as flower may cling flower,
With n o rough though t beyond the peace thereof, f To be thy comrade , and to don and do f
Th e little chain that h angs about thy n eck, I To do all th is , my Fair One and to fleck
Thine eyes with kisses, were a righteou s deed , no t L to And a thing for ove hold in check .
I O 4 (tenth l itany.
TI LL I have heard from thee my doom o f death I shall be proud to serve thee with my breath , w And ith my labour, an d be th in e withal ’ Man G — As is od s, conten t with any thrall ’ — That s bound in thee , conten t with any lot ’ That s linked w ith thine , in some secluded spot L I Which thou hast loved , O ady in the past,
And where remorse and wrong will find us not .
Go d I w T O kn ow th ee fair, ah how s eet is thi s
To find thee wavering , and to grasp in bl iss h o w w I O nly th e dream Of th ee , sad the hile ’ And yet , by reason Of a moment s smile,
H o w h O e I grand to p , how gracious to forget Thou false to me ? Thou h eedless o f a debt ’ ’ lo ve s ? N a Of incurring y, by J uno s crown Thy sn ow - wh ite hand shall be my guerdon yet I
T H E spi ri t - love th at leads us to th e soul
Athwart th e body as its fai rest goal , The love that l ives in languor undefined — And yet is strong, th e love that can be kind ’ r And yet aggressive as a soldie s blade , K een to th e hil t , entranced and n ot afraid , This is th e love that will survive the death
O f all endowmen ts wh ich the years have mad e . 1 0 Gloria in E xcelsis . 5
\V LT w ? \V ? I fro n at this ilt chide me Wilt appeal , w w o ut Of As some are ont, hen lovers , zeal , ’ O e rs te p th e bounds Of wisdom which hath ceased ’ To win men s praise ? T h e Matins of the E ast
S — C O f C o ung by the lark , the redo th e l ud \Vh ich oft h e trills in confirmation proud t is — great love , all this we re mine excuse
If I - w could sing as he , so dawn endo ed .
X I I I .
’ ’ FO R I d w u be welcome, then , h ere er tho art , And gladden th ee an d play as prompt a part w As R omeo pla y ed ith J uli et at h i s breast .
\Vh o wh o loves not love , hates to be caressed , ’ ’ I S N I ll . ature s ban e and denounce him , too ’ For he s a foe to all that 5 j ust and true In earth and H eaven and when h e seeks a j oy, — S . H is quest shall fail , his hand hall miss the clue
X I V .
W E w kno these things . We know how dark a
Ma y let in l ight , and how th e smallest bird May mix the morn w ith music till we th ink
fi re - w The lit ai r is ine for us to drink,
A nd o — every d rop salvati n , every sound ’ M — fl o we r- A use s wh isper, all the full ground A fancy - carpet fit for kn ights to tread ’ o n wa r T R When th eir y to Arthu s able ound . 6 I o (tenth l itany.
’ O L u — A FO , a fool i s h e who ll n ot p raise
w - H is hands in prayer, ath art the danger days
to . Fo r Wh ich come all h e , wh en waxen old , Will search the past and find i t callous - cold
An d all the future , too, will freeze for him . N o r shall he weep arigh t when tears bedim nO H is desperate , doleful eyes that know t faith f And he shall hear n o chants o cherubim .
XV I .
’ I WA S b e witch d o flate I My soul had met
S ome fearful doom an d there had dropt a th reat , — f o f . A curse belike , rom lips Atropos There had been don e a deed of spirit - loss ’ l W hich did o e rwh e m m e as I paused thereat . ’ ’ But no w tis sh unn d and wh ere a Tremor sat N o w sits a H ope and where a gulf was seen
N o w stands a mount as grand as Ararat .
XV I I .
T H E rose is silen t, an d the lily dumb
Fo r Man alone . H e sees them when they come Blest from th e soil but what they mean thereby h And w at they dream of, when they front the sky ,
Y e t . E ludes his learning . th e birds can tell Moth s talk to flowers and breezes in the dell H ear more confessions than we men reveal
And oaks an d cedars love each other well .
I 1 2 Glab ys the S in ger .
And wh ile I note these th ings and muse thereon I think o f those s weet souls beyond the dawn
\Vh w s I I o se love a flame . O deathless O ye dead ? Are ye well met H ave ye no tears to shed ’ N o t e en for j o y ? I s love n ot worth a kiss U p there in H eaven A mere seraph ic bliss — F it fo r a saint Go d help us then each o ne I S And you , my broth ers , you this ide the sun ,
W h o - love t rue love , bel ieve th is much of me , That I h ave worshipped Love upon my knee I to o And almost feared it . have trembled ’ In I — a my much j oy A glove , ribbon s hue,
H ave moved me strangely an d in lonely hours , In empty chambers , and in starlit bowers , I ’ w G have as t ere enthroned a sainted rief, o u And paid i t h omage . H ave y found relief In — I tears and dream s, as have don e full oft ,
no o r w And t been proud perj ured hen , aloft , A lark has seemed to trill the loved one ’s name ? ’ I o u L pray y all , by ove s resistless flame ,
Accept of me this tale wh ich n ow is told . ’ ’ For there s n o shame in T ruth and H ope s a- cold
That has no d reams to feed it .
Far away
T w y here stood , in years gone by, ath art the spra
- w That dashed the sea born crags, a lordly to er w — o f And , do n the valley, Offshoot its dower, A lowly cot embowered i n such a nook
As lured Apollo when , with pipe and crook , w w H e wooed Acantha . And ithin i ts alls A nymph was sheltered whom a Legend calls I Glab ys the S inger. I 3
G S — o f ladys the inger, one those elect And fond fair women whom the world has d ecked t D e Wi h ead S a laurels .
H e wh o owned the land o f Was young an d rich and lavish h is hand , I And well he knew the bower, aye as the kite May know the dove - cot and a - down the height
o ne - H e strode alone, lustrous autumn day, B rain - sick w ith fancies such as warp the sway Of E ros’ children an d hi s steps he turned To where the cottage stood amid the burn ed
And withering foliage . But , beside the same,
H e paused in doubt and , with a kindling shame,
H alf glad , half sad , he heard a matin song
S wh o ung, as it seemed , by One d id belong
- To angel choirs . And , as h e drained the draught — Of that sweet voice, as soul an d body quaffed — a Th e nectarous notes, someth ing from his eye s
Fell like a film , and all th e earth and skies And all the frondage Of th e forest way
R - f o f Ma e took the raptures o the month y. And in his thought h e roamed beside th e stream — Where sh e had led him , where th e golden gleam Of her bright hair had crowned the tender grace — Of her l ithe body, and her matchless face
I Fo r - H ad made him mad , vision l ike , h e stood
Alone with her in H eaven , and found it good , o ne o f n Found it the sweet thing all things k own , T o sit with her at twilight , all alon e , — In o wn. halcyon spots, the universe their I I 4 Glab ys the S in ger .
- A bowe ry nook, a sea side lonely cave , w I These ere his haunts , and more h e did not crave But no w h e loitered near the very shrine
Of this loved soul , and heard her voice divine — P eal o ut suprem e H e Opened with a smile
- w The querulous door, and stood , a breath ing hile,
S traight in h er sigh t .
S h e rushed into h i s arms
- w Tear lit with j oy, and glo ing in th e charms Of wh ite su rrender : O my Love I my Love I
S O true , so gentle , so insured above All time and d istance I I have yearn ed for thee
As earth for summer, as th e lonely sea ’ m th o u r For idnight stars and now t here at last , I mean to cling to thee , and hold thee fast , I Aye I as a chain migh t do, mean to cl ing
Fast round thy soul , and sphere th ee like a ring .
I no t o ne w ? What ord An d gloomy, too, and chill , ? 0 R I On th i s bright day oland thou art ill , ’ l I T h o u rt - And wi t n ot tell m e convulsion pale , And in thy gaze I read th e d ismal tale
Of some foreboding . O my dearest o ne I M y life , my death , my All beneath the sun I ’ In God s good name I charge thee make it clear What makes thee sad ? And if thou need a tear S — I eek it in me , for have learnt th e way
- To shed more tears than thou wilt need to day . “ ” N a G I w w y, ladys , n ay i th smiles h e an s ered her, “ ’Ti s much ’tis nothing I S ome unwon ted st ir
— \V rds I n . o m h ousehold matters are e pty th ings . Why should they hurt ? If Faithfulness had wings
6 u Glab ys the S inger.
O r was h e wearied Of their sylvan bliss ? S h e mused an instan t in the fear o f th is S And then , without a ign , she d rooped her head
w - And ept outright , such tears as ch ildren sh ed ’ When , mid a storm , they h ear thei r parents pray . \Vo m e n to are stronger than we care say, And when they weep they conquer more than men With sword o r sceptre for they bind us then w With weak , arm hands , as with a festal wreath . Le t those wh o draw the sword from o ut its sheath
wh o o n And those sit an d stare gilded thrones , w o f\ I S h e B e are Yoman , in all the zones o f And all the cou rt s earth , and all its bowers ,
I s queen elect Of all th e golden hours .
S h e is the ruler whom the rulers know,
o r wo e And when sh e wills a thing, in j oy ,
In o r o r health or sickn ess , remorse sin ,
- The high born knigh t must bow to her therein . ’ - i Twas so to day when , W th a mute caress , S h e spake her t rust , and , clothed in courtliness , M w — ade kno n h er fears , and this with such a mien ,
And such sweet fervour, and so bright a sheen ’ O f pout an d blush , that , for a moment s space,
H e gazed , relenting, on her radiant face,
And loathed h imself and trembled at her glance, And vowed to Go d that his was evil chance
To do th is th ing , and in hi s ve ry shame ’ T o o r . fear t name it, though in H onou s name
H e eyed her face , the brighter for the rush Of those quick tears and kissed away the blush ’ That warmed her cheek as w ith a rose s stain ,
- And then re kissed i t to its place again . H Glab ys the S inger . 7
0 8 weak sh e seemed and yet so strong withal ,
And so exacting, that , within her th rall ,
Man was as he , he felt the force in h im M elt into misery, and a tear bedim H is traitorous gaze for he was o ne Of those W' w h o fear the scoffs of beauty more than blo s . But she could mark th e menace and the drift
Of thoughts unuttered , and her soul could sift S ound from the sense thereof ; an d thus she spake 0 R oland I O my Master ! for thy sake I have been stabbed by doubts and lain awake N o f ight after night, to dream wayward th ings, ’ w A moth s lamen t , a flo er with folded wings , An April daisy turned into a screen
Fo r e lfin lovers , and the face serene
wh o Of my dead sister, , though like to m e
As flakes of snow are like the foam at sea ,
Would thrust me back , full soon , could sh e behold ’ M fall n - y estate , and all my promise gold —I I Turned into dust, mean th e pride had
In . mine own self, ere doting made me mad
Go d I I Ah , gracious how glad were to pass , Y I oung as am , beneath th e churchyard grass , If I w , but an instant , ere ent that way, ” I might re - win the right I had to pray I
- But he , soft smiling, gazed on her, and stood S w w ilen t apace , as one , ithin a ood , H aunted by pixies at the swoon ing - hou r w w Of bi rds and bushes , hen th e moon has po er. I w Aye as a man entranced , hen n ight i s done, ’ Ma w y note the orld s betrothal to the sun , u s GIaOys the S inger.
’ E e n w w - u so he atched h er, ith a pent p sigh , ’ r h e r Th o u rt to o And thus add essed young to die , to o ? And much fair. Who knows it more than thou S I I no w But mark me , weet One for lie not ,
N o r I have l ied to thee at any time ,
O r wronged in thought th e holy wedding ch ime,
o r - O r spurned an oath , feared a promise ring .
N o I I have though t no lie, n or would bring
S o r o r orrow to thee shame , make thee ru e o f The rapt confession Of thine eyes blue , When first I saw thee in the Long - A go ’ r Ma Of thi s yea s y, as blameless as the snow ’ o n Which makes its eyri e a mountain s crest . M Beauty is th ine and usic, and th e quest For power and wealth and all the j oys o f fame
An d all th e rh apsod ies that , round a name , Burst into splendour to possess a world I G o n lory is th ine , and thy lips impearled
so A smile sweet , so lustrous in its m i rth , no w That none has known , till , upon the earth , ” A dream so true , a j oy so fair to see . ” — a ? I A dream , j oy Ah , thou can st flatter m e S h e rippled forth , in answer to h is speech ,
I o f But am here, to h ide m e , out reach , If — I thou upbraid me , as kn ow thou w ilt , — Fo r o f . my much trust , itself a kind gu ilt I o r Am attaint , guiltless in thy sight , Fo r my day - dreams
H e answered her arigh t I am n ot worthy o fso grand a boon
As thy great love for not the sun and moon ,
I z o Glab ys the S in ger.
Th rough all th e d rowsy hours of sainted n igh t,
L to Till dawn restores th e oved One her sight .
I I o r Oh can d rown , , l ike a broken lyre ,
w o r B e thro n to earth , cast upon a fi re . I can be made to feel the pangs of death , o f An d yet be con stan t to th e quest breath , o f Ou r poor, pale trick l iving th rough the lies E ’ We name xistence , when that something d ies \ h i h w M V c e call H onour . any and many a way C an I be struck , or fretted , n igh t and day, In some n ew fashion , or condemned the while
T o o f take for food the semblance a smile ,
- o ff The left rapture Of a slain caress , ‘ ’ ’ ‘ ’ ‘ fo r N o N o Ye s . And Yes , and perchance for I w I o f Ah ell see , comfort there is none,
And n o completion of the faith begun ,
- When moon and star, and swift ascending sun ,
o I wis B rough t j y to me , and made me , as , ” I - The thing am , soul famished for a kiss .
H e raised her hand , and kissed i t, as a king,
For some cold vow, m ight do so staid a thing . — But as h e kissed h e n careful as the snow
o n fl o we rs — Which falls , she frowned , and murmured lo w
” T o o — S ir I kind , good and dashed away a tear,
And waved him back , as mindful to appear
N o r no r grave gay, n or bashful in her m ind
And , far away, the wailing autumn win d S ’ obbed O er the sea, alone and uncon fined , L ike some poor lover, whom th e n ights and days
o f o f H ave robbed alike triumph and praise . 1 2 : Glab ys the S in ger.
” 0 I I . friend he answered , am much to blame I taught thee th is I taught thee h ow to name S orrow and s in and suffering and fo r th ee
I I o n brough t myself to sue , aye my knee ,
. G I w To my proud si re O ladys ouldst thou g ues s, ? H is rude retort , his smile of bitterness ” N a G I y, hear me , ladys
With a frown she drew
A quick, hot breath , and looked h im through and
through , I I And then replied gave thee all had , M y youth , my truth , my life , and all th ings glad ,
Of to All thoughts love , all hopes of peace come , w ’ And only kept a ay my sorrows sum , M y tears and fears and sighs , and all the shame
That burnt the bays of what I d eemed my fame .
If w o f still remembered in the orld men , Ifhonoured still beyond this desert - glen ’
I no t. I Where now we ve met , care am dead I To all deligh ts with which my soul fed ,
And all ambition s in the realm Of art , And all the fond desires that were a part ”
I . Of my young life , before came to thee “ ” “ What need , h e answered , here beside the
sea , N Where Art and ature have the world for friend , W L I hat n eed , my ove of tears that come to end — ? Full soon for lovers, and for women first fo r What need hast thou rancour, or for thirst — I Of th ings withheld unkindly, who sh all say
o r O r hid from sight, haply kept away 1 22 Glab ys the S inger.
For som e good pu rpose And h e bent his head
And moved his lips , and , with a word unsaid,
Looked at her straight .
” O Go d I sh e stammered o ut C an ? N a S ir such th ings be y, , beyond a doubt,
You men are just bu t, by your tardy leave,
w w e We women , too , may learn , h ile deceive , — ’ T o preach like you I Twas Adam tempted E ve I
H e bade her eat . H e tempted h er to fall , ” I A nd And then den ounced her , with this recall
O f her past life , she lifted up her face , A S o ne who sees a snake a - near th e place S h e th ought secure and flashed a proud d isdain On h is mute wonder and th e look o f pain With which h e eyed h er an d sh e spake again “ Me n I h ave their righ ts , know, and thou hast
th ine , T o break the bowl and squander all the wine I ’ n But tell m e , quick, thy fath er s fi al word , ? ” w - And hat , i n shame , to day thin e ears have heard H is falte ring l ips made answer to her quest
was m H e unjust , an d ste , an d ill at rest ,
cle ar o f w . But , em phatic , certain h is po er T ’ ‘ hou must d ism iss , h e said , th is very hour, I ’ All th oughts o flove till permi t the same .
And , with a cold aspersion on thy fame , w I H e wrung my heart ith words will not name . S udden as fire she started to h er feet “ And thou sh e cried , Th in e answer to the heat Of this d istempe r ? ” Like a craven man
H e hung hi s head , and blushed as he began
1 2 4 Glaoys the S inger.
— ’ To wed hereafter, for Amb ition s sake , S ome high - born dame with gold enough to slake ” Th o f w y thirst po er.
H e made a quick retort
N o o r bride for me , in good ill report , In all th e round Of all my n ights and days . w But with a ithering look sh e met h is gaze, As sh e would stab him with that ve ry kn ife
VVh e re o f o f she spake , ere yet a word strife H ad sprung between them and she raised her h ead “ ” And flashed contempt . Thou art some serf, she
said , ’ ’ S r tol n in the n ight from som e maraude s sh ed , —a And made to take the place, place belied , ’ so n — a I Of and h eir, castle s foolish pride But On e wh o knows all things beneath the sun
o n H ath frowned thee , and sees what thou hast done
- And all thy heart i s bared to H im to day, ’ — And all thou say st , and all thou still wouldst say . S h e paused an instant with a weary though t
That he might scatter all her doubts to nough t,
All her d istress , and all the throbs Of pain That worked within her and sh e spake again w I 0 thou dried soul hom once deemed a man ,
M fo r all on arch of men , and min e th e span
o ur Of two li ves, in th is world an d the n ext , w f 0 thou eak boaster o a brainless text, Fitter to fill a trench than be the curs e
o ne o r Of more summer, to move me worse ’ I m o v st N a I . Than n ow thou m e y, hate thee not Wh o hates the worm ? Who hates the canker-blot 1 2 Glab ys the S inger . 5
On some poor tree I see thee as thou art .
I I . sound thy depths . read thee to the heart I find thee shallow as a clamorous rill w I ” That wends its way , uncalled for, d o n a hill
s ak e ‘ h is As thus she p , face from white to red , w o f h And red to hite , as a man alf dead ,
w - Gre famine featured wh ile he looked at her, And owned the mastery and the fi tful spu r Of her wild anger and was n igh to sue — For absolution , as h is passion due .
- l w But, like a standard po e hose flag i s down , o f O r l ike the base usurper a crown ,
H e stood erect , and , clothed in his deceit,
E o ne yed her aghast , as who would retreat In some sleek way , if, ere proceeding thence, ’ ‘ n H e migh t be pardoned for his Love s Ofle ce . ” One word 1 she answered to his mute appeal , I ” One further word And then , as she would r eel ,
o r O r swoon , die, or do som e deadly thing, S h e clutched the air, as men at sea may cling,
Wrecked as they are , to some di scarded rope . S h e o fh O e ached towards h im with a kind p , ’ in acce nts And then d ismissed it, and weak, to And tears held back, continued thus speak “ ’ k no w st - o ft Thou all women well , thou hast said
me. Go Thou know st not , know thyself instead ,
What man thou art, h ow false and how unjust ’ ’ N K . To ature s test , and nighthood s holy trust I loved thee not I I loved a foolish dream I That looked like thee . saw thee in the gleam 1 26 Glaoys the S in ger.
Of some bright thought I deemed thee such an o ne
As min strels sing of, when they drape the sun ,
Man to r w I An d make him , c o n h im with a crown ’ Thou wast the flower o fall the world s renown
In no w my glad s igh t but , t o see thee there ,
I o f seem to see the wraith some despair,
- A thing so rude , so robber like in plan , I would not have th ee fo r my serving - man I ’ I— I G ’ Aye , aye , tis so swear by od s deligh t
When with H i s hand H e parted day and n ight,
o f And by the stars, and by the saints heaven , That I repen t m e of my girlhood given T o I thy rude touch All evil thee beset, Thou blight o fmorning ! All remorse and shame P ossess thy soul , and sap the ancien t fame I I Of thy great house was too frail a thing, wo n — Too quickly , too impotent to sting,
- A fair haired frailty with attractive eyes , A — a — doll, puppet, something from th e skies
For thy caressing, and belike in time th ’ For y denouncing, as a m inute s crime D I ’ one up in silk But should st thou , for thy peace , ’ If b e — peace it , should st thou , ere autumn cease , R equ ire a toy, a heart to play withal , w An u n ed wife to answer to thy call,
S a I y was proud , and spurned thee from my side S a y that the love between us snapped and d ied , e As dies a tune , as snaps the strain d ch ord — Of some wild harp, too weak to be restored .
N a I I y say thi s , too claim n o part in thee, I For would liefer trust a wave at sea,
1 28 GIahys the S inger.
S h e must be mad , he thought . And , slow, retraced w w H is measu red steps , ath art the sh ingly aste . w But she leapt for ard , like a stricken deer,
cr - With one great y, brow beaten in her fear,
And yet transformed to someth ing half d ivine .
Fo r L to m ove had the darkness for a sign , w And , sharp ithin her soul , a something stirred
Like wounded wings of some imprisoned bird . C ! C I” ome back ome back she cried , and Open flung The n ear - shut window where th e roses hung In C f thei r torn wreaths , ome back and learn rom me no — What man knows , what h aply unto thee ”
M a . y bring content But , shuddering tamely th ere , — Th e w ild cry fell an d through her gold like hair ’ H er face looked o ut as on a winter s night
The icy moon looks down th rough vapours wh ite . ” C ome back I sh e cried to that retreating fo rm w Wh ich h eard her n ot an d ei rd , and wan , and
warm , h S e craned h er neck to note the path he took, w And swayed h erself, as s ays besid e a brook A lonely willow o n a breathless day And wi th her li ps she made as sh e would say I was thy faithful w ife, though wed in sport ’ As wives were wedded once in Arthur s court . Yet h eed my plea I Two hearts are kn it in o ne ” In my poor frame .
But utterance found she none
And , ere ecstatic she could shape the words , S m And waft them forth as um er wafts the birds , 1 2 Glaoys the S inger. 9
o r fo r For j oy , for memory , grief s con trol , ’ O e r H er face convulsed , and her tottering soul
- The sto r m cloud burst and tears shut o ut the light .
And so it came to pass , in her despite , w That h e ignored the secret , sad and s eet W' herewith she ached at every pulse ’s beat w And , later on , th e breezes told the flo ers H o w One wh o must have wept for many hours
w I t was Fled through th e ood . some sprite, they
said ,
i — wh o A nymph , a na ad , One , as sh e fled , ’ - w O er ruled h er grief, and atched , with ach ing sight ,
- w The blood red moon go do n into th e night . Canto S econo.
AG A I N the spring - time with its songs o flove H ad come and gone again the cooing dove H ad called its nestling o n th e sheenful breeze Again th e waves o f the careering seas l Assai ed th e coast with shouts of wild acclaim , ’ w - w What t ime the inter ind , in ocean s name ,
o ut H urled defiance and th e queen of heaven ,
- o r Th e maiden moon , entranced in a sweven , P S aced up the sky, from autumn unto pring,
U o f o f nclaimed men , uncrowned any king,
And only loved aright by loveless maids . o f And once again th e rapture the glades ,
o f - Th e rout an d revel the spring decades , H ad filled and th rilled the ai r with such delight As makes a tourney o f the day and n igh t W w hen gale confronts ith gale at equin ox , w An d all the cliffs , and all the sea ard rocks H ave thud s i 0 y I Again th e forest yearned
Fo r sight Of summer, and the roses burned
On many a h edge , whereon the mounting sun
Fo r P ut forth his trophies . the world had wo n
- fle e ce d The righ t to cling thereto, as , golden , E The rapt H yperion leapt from out the ast .
1 )! 3 I Glahys the S in ger.
w O f half its eigh t, and ease my body , too , I O f its fond burden . For tell thee true, M o wn w I ine s eet babe that , i n thi s h eart of mine .
Are tears unnumbered , sharper than the brin e
- fie rce r Of salt sea winds , and than the flames
Of crater fires and there are fitful names, If I — could find them , for my many blames . D R I ost see , my oland yonder on th e ridge ,
This side the forest , near the broken bridge , ? w T h e That princely to er keys th ereof are ou rs ,
Ifwe — w demand them , all the roofs and to ers ,
Yea, all the landscape , all the shining land ,
we . All ours for eve r, if lift a han d But shall w e lift it ? S hall we make appeal
T o o ne wh o us — wh o hates , on e will n ot kneel ’ — For God s high quittance , and , beyond hi s pelf, ” o r ? H as nought to love , pray for, but h imself
\Vh ile thus she parleyed with th e tender elf “ \Vh o M was called her oth er, and all she had
h e r This side eternity, to keep glad , S hudders oppressed her, and there came a sound O f leaves and t wigs in ear - shot o fth e mound
w 10 sh e a s throned . And toward s came
- w Old A faggot oman , and cold and lame , \Vh o seemed the ghost o f some dead winter s dav R n w etu r ed to life , to lead the orld astray,
And mar good th oughts .
The beldam looked at he r,
And snarled , aggressive , as a fami shed cur 1 Glahys the S in ger . 3 3
\V Which n o man loves . ilt do a deed for me , “ The girl in quired , and earn an honest fee This heyday morn ? I see thou w ilt do this w For thou art pleased , as hen a d ream Of bliss w C omes to a ch ild . Aye I aye I th e orld is sad I ’ I w know tis so But gold ill make thee glad . \V ‘ ith th is she tore a leaflet from a book , w w w And rote as follo s , h ile her bosom shook With fears untold
If thou remember no w — a A dream long dead , broken , foolish vow,
A poor, pale gh ost who, in the years gone by,
\Vas w G — kno n as ladys , qu it thy turret high , w w And seek , this day , th e place thou kno est ell
’ ’ W C - o f The itch es ave , the ante room H ell ,
If o ne H eaven and H ell be th ing and the same , I And h ope a snare , and misery but a name I have a lustrous j ewel here with me \Vh ich bears thy mark a th ing so fair to see That many a man Of pride would sell for this
All things he hath , and all his chance of bliss
In O ff. o h I worlds far But yet , read me righ t , w ’ And h eed me ell . Th is is n o fool s delight
And n o poor treasure from th e marts of men , ’ I o f now speak ; for a poet s pen , ’ ’ r A painter s brush , a sculpto s art d ivine ,
o f Alone were fit to vaunt th is gem m ine . A rapturous burst of music at a shrin e M ight make it clear, and earth would und er stand I But I must place it in a surer hand 1 34 Glahys the S in ger .
T I w w I no w han thi s rite ith and pray thee , Ifth o u remember still a m idnight vo w
' W was — Go d I h ich once th ine , wh ich and alone
- H eard thee pronounce , albeit in under ton e, C ome with th e dame but come as comes a man \Vh o clears a path fo r C aesar in th e van ” Of utmost truth .
H erewith she tied th e scrip , w And kissed i t fondly ith revering lip , o ne As , in prayer, may kiss a h oly th ing, And therewi thal she smiled as dryad S pring
Ma o n y smile Winter wh en the months are young,
re - w And addressed , ith her persuading tongue Go I That aged dame , take with thee , pray, I This scroll give thee, and in haste convey ’
T o . I s I m yonder tower t master knows here , And h e will come to where th e sea - weed sere
to Thrills to the blast , and h isses the sea
But make no further talk of mine or me , — ’ S ave th is alone Th o u s t seen me o n my way
T O find a cavern wh ere , from day t o day, w I S trange th ings were planned . H e kno s what would say I
r w . H ence , then , and quickly and retu n ith h im
The ancien t woman , cold in every l imb
And twitched by palsy , with a feeble laugh , M w f ade mouth s at her, and fumbled ith her staf , ’ And named high Go d I The world s a - full of such to Women and men , unseemly the touch ,
U nkempt , uncanny, girt about with woe ,
w - to And smirched ith mud , who yet are proud kn ow
1 3 Glahys the S in ger .
S h e w s ooned into herself, \Vith eyes o ut- staring to a broken shelf
O f - u o n piled p cloud , wh ich the sun had smiled w And then , ith feverous haste , sh e snatched ch ild ’ flo w re ts Forth from its couch among the fai r , w And bore i t sea ard , and was quickly th ere In that same n ook whereof she wrote th e name ’ C — The Witches ave, th e landmark Of a shame S h e loved m ore dearly wh en the worst was known
o r Than halcyon bards , kings upon a th rone , L w ove th ei r dom inions and ithin th e n iche , w All poor with weeds , sh e placed the j e el rich
\Vh e re o f she spake .
The ch ild into a trance ’ fall n Of loveliest sleep had and now, askanc e
S h e gazed u pon it , as she wrapped it round In h e r red scarf, and lai d a packet bound
With golden thread beside it and , with tears , K issed i t in silence , lest the dimpled fears ,
S There hushed in lumber, should awake to pry
And thwart her pu rpose .
I ’ w Ah twere s eet to d ie , w To save from dro n ing, or to snatch from fire
- This life long treasure but , in penance dire , T O ? S leave it th us To thrust i t on its ire , ? ? And then to shun i t And for what A dream , A —a h O e —a — a chance , p , certitude , beam ” - I O f far Off light H e will be poor, she thought , If I v o n li e but rich , and richly taugh t , 1 Giaoys the S in ger . 3 7
I And fondly cared for, if die for h im . S o Go d I w let me fare , O here none may d im D ’ T h w ead people s eyes , and let y ill be willed , ’ E e n as the tempest in the n ight was stilled ’ ” At T hy S on s coming ! And she bowed her head w And wept afresh , as eeps , when day is dead , ab s se d A sunset cloud and , shuddering and y
In so ul re - her own , touched the child and kissed , W' ith desolate dull moaning of wild pain
a iwo m an C And , like with th e curse of ain
- Full in her heart, out leapt into th e sun
And sough t the ocean .
All her hai r undone ,
- And pale and proud , with bosom folded hand s , S h e w o n w stood in ater the oeful sands ,
- And , ankle deep , surveyed the glittering sea ,
What time the w ind uprose upon the l ea . ” Go d I S h e w O she murmu red , as aded i n ,
Take Thou my soul absolve me of my sin , w I And make me fit to j oin , hen am gone,
T h e o f wh o w unfro wne d ranks those ait, upon , In h O e deathful shades , in p to recon cile Their clamorous past with T hine eternal smile I
S h e turned her gaze to shoreward , and awh ile S hed tears that scathed her, as they struggled through ’ o r tw Their eyelids fringe and , for a space o , “ ” S h e I w paused inert . ill be brave , she said , I w And j ourneyed on , ill confront the dead ,
In i - I I w o t ue love fashion ill smile t day,
o f Ma And sing the songs madness born in y, I 8 3 Glahys the S inger .
o f wa s Th e m irth madness when the world young, And flower and field and ford had found a tongue An d each created th ing had tuned its voice
T o M I praise its aker . For d ie by choice .
I to o f go meet the ghosts my despairs , M I y murdered hopes , my unregarded cares — ’ N o man has wrought my death I n o woman s guile ” H as seared my soul .
T — t o f hen , wi h a kind smile w That t itched h er mouth and saddened all her face , ’ S h e sang the song o f D eath s abiding - place w A song Of sorrow h ich , in days gone by, — — H er lute had th rilled to, sigh with cadence sigh
- N e w . to kn it in chorus But day the sea,
- The wind struck sea , made all its chords agree \Vith that one rapture and the sounds thereof
Were sad to h ear as sigh s that speak o f love .
G S O N .
TH E R E is a land beyond the rising moon , A land o f peace which all the angels know w o f une A floating onder, like a dream J ,
Th e j oys whereof will greet me in my swoon .
- - A wh ite sea bird , a sea gull overhead , V w \ ill chirp at me to t it me with a doubt , I fo amful But shall smile upon my bed ,
And all th e waves will kn ow that I am dead .
1 0 4 Glahys the S inger.
And therewithal its kin sh ip to th e lark I ’ I - I am the n ight wind s , and bear its mark .
no w — But th e water, clamouring to the ends — Of h er long h ai r, appeared to make amend s F o r its late calm and lashed her on the side . I t was the buffet of the clamorous tide,
The full tide , ebbing now, that sought th e sea, ’ - a As late the beach was sought , moment s glee
I But unaffra e d Whipped into foam , y at this , S h e smiled and said It was an ocean - kiss
This , and no more . And , with an aching heart, S h e — sang, with rapture that was once a part — b Of her stage life , y men remembered well ,
o f - The silvery cadence her ocean knell .
S O N G.
0 S EET S o n I I W , my my darling dead to me , Go d But saved for h im , as flowers are saved for H ow like a fete - day w ill thy finding be ’ I m o ut When at rest yonder in th e sea .
o ne o n Thou art the sweet th ing all the earth , ’ The pride o f summer and the winter s balm
o f —a A glimpse H eaven , glory from thy bi rth
Without a peer in sadness or in m irth . 1 : Glahys the S inger . 4
I o ne H ad a thousand lives in stead of ,
A thousand deaths to die to cancel thine , I’d I give them all , aye freely as a nun ’ G n ives all sh e hath for great J ehovah s S o .
- w w And , fever fraught , ith ildly streaming hai r,
S h e tossed these notes ecstatic through th e ai r.
S G O N .
S TH I is the end of all my many fears ,
And th is the charter Of my right to d ie ,
T o o ut S seek a solace beyond the pheres , w And kill the scandals of my t enty years .
n I This i s my pena ce , this and my delight ,
fo r o f To sail the deep searching a tomb ,
O f ! And , th rough the mirk, the madness th e n ight
U p to the wai st she stood in that expanse
wan - w Of sea ater, piteous in her glance ,
- w . And eary limbed , and shuddering to the soul
- For, far away, she eyed the ocean goal
’ W w wan hereto sh e thi rsted ith so a lip , The straight sea - line whereto a fle e cy S hip 1 2 4 Glahys the S inger .
’ E e n now made way with homeward - sailing men
And all the blood with in her faltered then . S I ” hall go back , she though t, and claim my boy , w w ’ And dare the orst of all the orld s annoy,
And front h is father, and confide in h im S I do hall this , and tu rn m e from th e rim
no w o n Of thi s dark wave , bearing full me , w And seek a d elling far from any sea , U nknown to h im
S h e staggered from the wave That reeled about her like a rolling grave
And swerved aside to give i t passage clear. ” 0 G o d I she mused , half palsied in h er fear, ’ 1 h ave o e rste ppe d my doom and no w for th is I shall be tumbled in the seething hiss N Of tides tumultuous , and a oth ing be , ” A wide - eyed N othing on the doubtful sea I
w There ith she met the breakers dark advance ,
\Vh ich . seemed to tilt and tu rn to her, askance And o ne of th ese assailed her with the shocks
- Of foam fed wrath , and hurled h er on the rocks
w - And d ragged h er do n , low gurgling in th e strain
Of imminent death , and roared at he r amain And made more havoc O fher shining hai r Than lovers’ hands wh ich mu rder wh ile they spare
\V w o ne ild , anton hands of wooers like the
Fo r o whom , t day, she d ied beneath the sun ,
In fierce enth ralmen t . But she rose anew P ron e on he r back , aghast, and pale of hue ,
1 44 Glahys the S inger.
M a . S y love hi s h ei r Our aviour said , of old , ‘ Forbid them not I ’ and took into H is fold w All tender babes , and blessed them ith H is steven , ’ G o f An d called them od s elect , the loved H eaven , \Vh o m non e o n all the earth should drive away
m o r I Fro H is an ointing, n ightly by day In life I erred in death I make it clear H o w I — much loved thee, more than honour dear, o f And more than wealth , which is the bane youth ,
- When , canker like , it makes a l ie a truth ,
h . And truth a lie , and ope a th ing morose
I o ne am not brave and yet , if so close ’ D o f L To eath s domain may dare to speak ife , I ’ I know not fear . am the Ocean s wife . I am the wife of every wanton wave
to . That cares touch me , though it w ill not save
o h I M . Yet hear, , hear my plea y time will come Th is babe Of ours will speak when I am dumb
- This baby face entreat thee , with a smile ,
T o th ink of m e , and pray for m e th e wh ile ,
As one enduring things that will endure . 0 L I o f And , my ove th is , at least , be sure I — I love thee still , for will call thee mine I One momen t more The place beyond th e brine , I w I The place that shall kno when am dead ,
'
Will not affrigh t me when my breath is sped . 10 I I I And ask thy pardon ere d ie .
F r I Meekly I crave i t . o made reply In words un seemly ; and I pray thee no w I I Forget , forgive All wrongs disallow
Yea , all my griefs , and all th e blame thereof,
And all the pangs that seemed to wait o n love . 1 (Blaoizs the S inger . 45
R I d Oh , heed me , oland H eed me , and , to ay Le t b e me glad , and cast my doubts away
As all unfit to share my d reams of thee . And do thou pause ere thou condemn in me ’ I s ? The headlong fault wh ich guides me . t a sin ’ If Go d I I s t - so , help me a fury din
Of mere mad waves , and n o assured repose Beyond all these ? I know no t for the shows
Of life and death an d darkness touch me not, As o ft they touched me ere I trod the spot I O f our fi rst meeting . But yearn at last
T o o ne — - this hope , new looming from the past, ’ That thou lt remove all scandal from the boy,
—b - I o f When , y my death , rid thee annoy H enceforth for ever I H e will win his peace
And thou thy comfort and , till summers cease , w o f And inters weary their woeful chace, w I w H e ill be th ine . Oh wh en he gro s apace Le t him be shown th e picture of my face , I I o f The face wore when was loved thee , I And say died , unhurt, beside th e sea , ’ N o t — in the sea itself, twould injure him T o know too much I In cloisters cold and dim Le t w I laggards frown , but let the ise be gay I b o want my y to laugh from day to day ,
And smile at Fear, and torture n ot h imself W’ ith baleful though ts . And yet, to bring
pelf,
I - die unblest , unprayed for, in the flash o ne w I If Of ild moment the deed be rash , I ’ do t in pity , not uncomforted Fo r Go d , they say , protects wh en one is dead x 6 4 (Blaogs the S inger .
’ I ? D I O ne s only child An d thou Forgive me , ear — ’ b o I m . And love my y, when n o longer h ere
R ! e ll I Aye, tell h im , oland t h im that died A — natural death , and blessed thee l ike a bride , ” And called o n Go d to guard thee eve rmore I A shuddering sob convulsed him to the core “ M I I At these last words . y w ife my winsome w ife M I I” ine and not mine My wife and then , at strife o wn fe ll With h is grief, h e before th e child ,
And kissed an d clasped him, and , in accents wild, C alled h im h is Angel , his predestined one , o u And bore h im t triumphant to th e sun , And stilled hi s cries by clamouring to th e blast ” C ome back I C ome back I and turned a face aghast
T o o ld wh . that hag, o croaked upon the san ds
And what the sequel o fthe love - demands
? D a Of that lorn letter y by day, for weeks ,
The wifeless man , with sad and sunken cheeks , ’ S o e r ailed th e deep and sought , in silent bays ,
A nd - lonely creeks , the wooed and wished for gaze Of stranded Gladys but he gained thereby N augh t but despair, and shame that cannot d ie , S hame and despai r and blistering of th e soul — Burn t through by tears, as though some bu rn ing coal H ad fallen therei n I H e was the fool o fTim e
— fo r And , like a man whom in every chime
— h e f o f Outrings a knell , qua fed the wine hope
And found it poison . All h is thoughts did grope n I undug graves and earthward and by sea, N u o n o r o n o man was fo nd foot, h is knee,
1 2 5 {Miscellan eous moems .
The sun , uprising with h is golden hair,
I s mine apostle and he serves m e well . T o f houghts and desires min e, beyond compare ,
Th rill at h is touch . The moon , so lost in thought , o ut o f H as pined for love and wanderers hell , I An d saints from heaven , have known what have
taught .
Great are my griefs my j oys are multiplex And beasts and birds and men my subj ects are Ye a n , all created thi gs that have a sex , And flies and flowers and monsters of the mere
All these, an d more , proclaim me from afar,
And sing my marriage songs from year to year .
V I . There are no bridals but the ones I make
For m en are qu ickened when they turn to me . ’ The soul obeys me for its body s sake ,
fo r . And each i s formed for each , as day n ight ’Tis but the soul can pay th e body’s fee ’ T o win the wisdom o fa fool s delight .
M Yea , th is is so . y clerks have set it down , o f An d birds have blabbed it to th e winds heaven . w Th e flo ers have guessed it , and , in bowe r and town ,
Lovers h ave sung th e songs that I have made .
G ive me your lives , O mortals , and , for leaven ,
Ye shall receive the fires that cannot fade . 1 M iscellan eous “3061118 . 53
V I I I . 0 men I O maiden s I O ye listless ones I wh o E Ye desert my temples in the ast ,
Ye wh o o f rej ect the rays summer suns, And cling to shadows in the wilderness ? Why are ye sad Wh y frown ye at th e feast , Ye wh o have eyes to see and lips to press ?
fo r Why, a wisdom that ye will not prove ,
o A j y that crushes and a love that stings ,
A freak , a frenzy in a fated groove , A thing o f nothing born o fless than nought
Why in your hearts do ye desire these things , Ye who abhor the j oys that ye have sought ?
S e e Se e ! I I , weep , bu t can j est at times I Yea, can dance and toss my tears away . The sigh s I breathe are fragrant as the rhymes
Of men and maids wh ose hearts are overth rown . I o d w am th e g for hom all maidens pray ,
But n on e shall have me for herself alone .
N o I w I have love enough , here here stand , T o marry fifty maids in thei r degree
Aye , fifty times five thousand in a band ,
o f And every bride the proxy a score . ? I Want ye a mate for millions am he .
- G . lory is mine , and glee time evermore 1 54 M iscellan eous p o ems.
0 men I O masters I O ye kings of grief ! Y e wh o th e w no t control orld but the grave, W ti) hat have ye done make deligh t so brief, Ye wh o have S purned the min strel and the lyre ? I will not say “ B e patient ” Ye are brave o f And ye shall guess the pangs my desire .
X I I I .
o f Th ere shall be traitors in the court love ,
And tears and tortures and th e bliss o f pain .
o f The maids men shal l seek the gods above,
An d d rink th e nectar o f the golden lake . B lessed are they for whom the gods are fain ’ ’ fo r They shall be glad love s an d pity s sake .
X IV .
T h ey shall b e taught th e songs the si rens know , ’ ’ The wave s lament , the west wind s psalmistry, o f o f Th e secrets the south and the snow,
o f . The wherewithal day , and death , and n ight 0 men I O maiden s I pray no prayer for me
B ut sing to m e the songs of my deligh t .
I Aye , sing to me th e songs love to hear,
An d let the sound thereof ascend to heaven . o f And let th e singers, with a voice chee r, Announce my name to all th e ends o f earth
And let my servants , seventy times and seven , R e - shout the raptures o fmy S amian mirth I x 6 5 M iscellan eous lDoems .
H YMN TO TH E RI S I N G S UN .
’ O MI G H TY Orb that o n the Morn ing s brow
D - ost shin e, all seeing, in the plen itude Of th ine up - ris ing I O thou j oy o f earth I ’ L - ook down and bless th e day that s n ew ordained , And let th e p ae an s o fthe pomp o fspring I B e th in e forever, O th ou lordly On e That hast the O rient for thy crown ing - place
And all th e welkin fo r thy way o fgrace .
The sea is th ine , the shores thereof are thine , And all th e haunts o fmen all th rough th e zones
Yea, each created thing th rough all the years , All th ings are th ine to make thee param oun t ’ no o r And there s essen ce known , by sea land , That i s n ot quickened by the sigh t o fth ee N o I o r there is nothing, earthward in ai r,
Which loves thee no t with love beyon d compare .
0 fi rs t- b o m o n the mountain s I O th ou sun
That art a porten t and a prodigy , 1 M is c ellan eous p oem s . 57
And evermore dost measure time and space I We turn to thee to se e thee as thou art h o w H ow fair, how constant, and girt with beams ,
And how exultan t in th in e azure tent , o ne When , one by , the stars confess thy powe r ,
And leave thee all th e landscapes for a dower .
Bless thou the h ills , the rivers and the plains ,
The founts , the forests, and the foaming sea And each and all thy suppliants here below I
o f - Through all the seasons thy setting time , Bless thou the wind s which are thy messengers
And in thy rising bless thou every field ,
s h ine st And every harvest wh ich thou on ,
And every soul wh o claims thy ben i son .
O planet prince I O glo ry born o fn ight That o ut o fnigh t dost come to s way the world I
Behold we love thee as the Titan s loved , ’ When thou d idst bear a god s name under H eaven . ’ Fo r th o u rt R o f K K th e egent the ing of ings , And his exponent through the centuries And all thy ways are wondrous as of old \V hen S appho praised th ee with her harp o fgold .
A laureate bird is thine in every grove , In all the fields thou hast thy troubadours . 8 1 5 M isc ellaneous p o ems .
A thousand times the lark h as trilled to thee , And waked the woods in April and in May A myriad times and more his S kyward notes
o f H ave drenched the summer with the dews song, ’ - And made , as twere , a feast time overhead f For bards to boast o when the days are dead .
Thou proud and pure I Thou keeper o fth e keys E t Of ast and Wes which are thy heritage ,
— at - Where thou , soaring and at setting time ,
D - o f ost hold a mansion , well beloved men ,
Whereof the roofs are j asper and red light .
I um- O j ocund king t ranscendent, afraid , And unassailed by storms through out the land L ook down and bless th e oceans thou hast spanned .
V I I I .
o f Bless thou the workers and the men though t , o f The work th ey do , th e wonders the lute, And all th e whisperings of the woods and streams I ’ Fo r th o u rt the wearer o f the clouds o f morn
- And where th ou art the hours are golden winged ,
And where thy se rvants are thy fame is great, w An d where thy singers are , in bo er and town ,
The h earts of men respond to thy renown .
L G I H ear us, ight iver and from dawn to dusk Be thou the fiery signal o fmuch j oy I
1 60 M iscellan eous p oems .
TH E WA K I N G OF TH E LA R K .
BO E x O N N I bi rd , that in the brake , e ultan t , dost pre pare thee — As poets do whose thoughts are true , for wings that w ill upbear thee I Oh tell me , tell me , bonnie bird , C an st thou n ot pipe o f hope deferred ? O r can st thou sing of naught but S pring among the golden meadows
Meth inks a bard (and thou art o ne ) should sui t his
song to sorrow,
o f o n And tell pain , as well as gain , that waits us the morrow
But thou art not a prophet , thou , Ifnaught but j o y can touch thee now If vo w , in thy h eart , thou hast n o that speaks o f ’ N ature s anguish .
! I c Oh have held my sorrows l ear and felt, though
poor and sligh ted , The songs we love are those we h ear when love is un
requited . M iscellan eous p oems . 1 6 1
w But thou art still the slave of da n , no t And can st sing till night be gone , ’ Till o e r the pathway o f the fawn th e sunbeams shin e
and quiver .
Thou art th e min ion o f the sun that rises in h is
splendou r, And can st not spare for Dian fai r th e songs that
should attend her. so - The moon , sad and silver pale , I s mistress o fth e n ightingale And th ou wilt sing o n h ill and dale n o d itties in th e
darkness .
Fo r Queen and K ing thou wilt not spare o ne note of thine outpouring ’ ’ And th o u rt as free as breez es be o n N ature s velvet
floorin g .
Th e daisy, with its hood undon e,
The grass , the sunl ight , and the sun
o ne ! fo r These are the j oys, thou holy that pay thee
thy singing .
! ! o f Oh , hush Oh , hush how wild a gush rapture in
th e distance, ’ o f fo r A roll o f rhymes, a toll ch imes , a cry love s assistance
A sound that wells from happy th roats ,
A flood o f song where beauty floats, do And where o ur thoughts, l ike golden boats, seem
to cross a river . 1 6 2 M isc ellan eous “306 1118 .
This is the advent of the lark— the priest in grey apparel Who doth prepare to trill in air his sinless S ummer carol This is th e prelude to the lay ’ ae s ai s The bird s d id sing in C day, ’ fo r o f G And will again , aye and aye , in praise od s
creat ion .
V I I I .
’ 0 o n r dainty thing, wonde s wing, by life and love
elated ,
Oh I s ing aloud from cloud to cloud , till day be consecrated o f Till from the gateways the morn ,
The sun , with all his light unshorn ,
o f H is robes darkness round h im torn , doth scale the lofty heaven s I
1 6 4 M iscellan eous p oems .
M R D EN A Y A R .
T O O H U to wh om athwart th e perished days , o ur And parted n ights long sped , we lift gaze , I I Behold greet thee with a modern rhyme,
L - ove lit an d reverent as befits the time ,
- f To solemn ise the b irth day o thy so n.
And wh o was h e wh o flourish ed in th e smiles ’ S o f I Of thy fair face Twas hakespeare the sles , S E hakespeare of ngland , whom the world has kn own G ’ As thine , and ours, and lory s , in the zon e
Of all the seas and al l the lands o f earth .
uh - H e was famous when h e came to thee, fo r But sound , and sweet , and good eyes to see , ’ S o n S t. G D a And born at tratford , eorge s y, A week before the wondrous mon th o f May Go d And therein was gracious to u s all .
e L I H loved thee , ady and h e loved th e world
And , like a flag, hi s fealty was unfurled 1 6 M iscellan eous p o ems . 5
And K ings who flourished ere thy son was born
S hall live through h im , from morn to furthest morn ,
- In all the far off cycles yet to come .
f H e gave us Falstaf , and a hundred quips, A hundred mottoes from immortal lips w And , year by year, we sm ile to keep a ay Th e generous tears that m ind us o fthe sway
f. Of h is great singing, and the pomp thereo
o f G H is was th e n ectar the gods of reece , G The lute o f Orpheus , and th e olden Fleece O f grand endeavour aye I the thunder - roll
Of words maj estic , which from pole to pole o f E H ave borne the tidings our nglish tongue .
V I I . H e gave us H amlet and h e taught us more Than schools have taught us and h is fairy - lore Was fraught with science and h e called from death ’ L Verona s overs, with the burn ing breath
Of their great passion th at has filled the spheres .
V I I I . C H e made us know ordelia, an d the man Wh o C murdered sleep, and baleful aliban
o ne o ne And , by , athwart the gloom appeared Maidens and men and myth s wh o were revered In halcyon days , before the earth was sad . 1 66 M isc ellaneous p o ems .
It e Aye I th is is true . was ordain d so o wn H e was th in e , three hundred years ago
to - But ours day, and ours till earth be red With doom - day splendour fo r the quick and dead And days and n ights be scattered like the leaves I
I t was for this h e l ived , for this he died
T o raise to H eaven the face that never l ied , T o lean to earth the lips that should become Fraugh t with con viction wh en the mouth was dumb
to And all the fi rm , fine body turned clay .
to H e lived seal , and sanctify, the lives
Of perished maids and uncreated wives , And gave them each a space wherein to dwell ’ And for his mothe r s sake he loved them well ,
o f . And made them types, undying, all truth
O fai r an d fond young mother of the boy
— - Who wrought all this O Mary I in thy j oy D fitful idst thou perce ive , when , from his rest ,
H e turned to thee , that his would be th e best Ofall men’s chan ting s ince the world began ?
X I I I .
D M I o f idst thou , O ary with the eye trust P erceive , prophetic , th rough the dark and dust
1 68 M iscellaneous p o ems .
XV I I I .
Fo r — - , though so seeming bold in th is my song, I w turn to thee ith reverence , in th e throng w Of ords and th oughts , as shepherds scanned , afar, The famed effulgence o f th at easte rn star
Wh ich ushered in the C rowned On e o f the heavens .
X IX .
In dreams o f rapture I have seen thee pass
A long the banks of Avon , by the grass , As fair as that fair j uliet whom thy s o n E o fo ne ndowed w ith l ife, but with th e look
W ho knows the nearest way t o some n ew grave .
’ to o I ve And often , , seen thee in the flush ’ “ r I Of thy full beauty , wh ile th e mothe s H ush
H ung on thy lip, and all thy tangled h air R e - clothed a bosom that in part was bare B ecause a tiny hand had toyed th erewi th I
XX I .
Oh I by the j une - tide splendou r o fthy face o ld When , eigh t weeks , th e child i n thin e emb race
D id — O M r I leap and laugh , a y by th e same , I to bow thee , and magn ify thy name , ’ E P f r And call thee ngland s ride o evermore . 1 6 M iscellaneous p oems. 9
TH E LA DY OF TH E MA Y
0 ST A R S that fade in amber skies
o f Because ye dread th e ligh t day,
s O moon so lonely and o wise , L L ook down , and love my ove alway S alute the Lady o f the May I
I I .
O lark that s o are st in th e ligh t
To hail thy lord in h is array, Look down b e -j ust and sing aright
For one who claims thy song to - day
T o L o f Ma greet h is ady th e y.
I I I . 0 I I ” lady lady sings the lark , ’ Thy love r s b e st I do obey Fo r thou art splend id after dark,
s mile st And where thou , there is day ’ th o u rt L o f Ma And the ady the y.
o f The n ightingale s a friend mine , ' fle w m And yesternight she y way . ‘ ’ ‘ Awake, she cried , at morn ing sh ine , A nd sing for me thy blithest lay T o L o f greet the ady the May. 1 6 7 M iscellan eous p oems.
o ne And tell her, tell her, gentle ’ attun s t While thou thy morn ing lay , That I will sing at set o f sun
An other song for thy sweet fay, ’ ’ L Ma Because she s ady of the y.
10 I And , , come , the lark in air,
S - to elf poi sed and free , did seem say ’ I to come greet thy lady s hair, I come ath wart the beams o f day ” T o L o f Ma laud thy ady the y.
s in e s t we ll I Oh , thank thee, bird that g For all thou say’st and s till wouldst And for the thoughts wh ich Ph ilomel I ntends to trill , in roundelay,
T o L o f Ma greet my ady th e y.
V I I I .
two L I o ne We (my ove and ) are ,
And so shall be , for aye and aye . Go to , take my homage the sun , And b id h im shine h is best to - day T o crown my Lady o f the May I
1 72 M iscellan eous p oems .
In cities and camps I e have l ight d my lamps,
My kisses are caugh t by kings and tramps . Wi th ran t and revel M I y hai r d ishevel , o fA stro fe lle And I am th e queen .
M y ki sses are stains , M ine arms are chains , ’ My foreh ead is fair and false like C ain s . My gain is loss
M I S ine honour d ross, And I am the queen o fA stro fe lle I M iscellan eous p oems . 1 73
B EE T H O VE N A T TH E P I A NO .
— S EE wh ere Beethoven sits alone a dream o f days i elys an ,
A crownless king upon a thron e , reflected in a vision The man wh o strikes th e potent chord s which make
the world , in wonder,
Acknowledge h im, th ough poor and d im , the mouth
piece o f the thunder .
H e feels the music o f the skies the wh ile his heart i s breaking P no H e sings the songs of aradise, where love h as forsaking
And , though so deaf he cannot hear the tempest as a
token , H e makes th e music o f h is m in d the grandest ever
spoken .
H e doth no t hear the wh ispered word o f love in h is
seclusion , ’ o r o f N Or voice of friend , song bird , in ature s sad confusion 1 74 M iscellan eous p oems .
’ fo r L But he hath made , ove s sweet sake, so w ild a
declamation , That all t rue lovers of the earth have claimed h im o f
their nation .
R H e had a j uliet in hi s youth , as omeo had before him , R And , omeo like , h e sought to die that she might then adore h im
But she was weak , as women are whose faith has not
been proven , — And would no t ch ange her name for his Guiciardi
for Beethoven .
O minstrel , whom a maiden spurned , but whom a world has treasured I O sovereign o f a grander realm than man has ever measured I
Thou hast n ot lost the lips of love, but thou hast
gained , in glory , The love o fall who know the thrall o f th ine immortal
story .
d Thou art th e bard whom n on e d iscar , but whom all men d iscover
To be a god , as O rpheus was, albeit a lonely lover A king to call the stones to life beside the roaring
ocean , ’ And bid th e stars discou rse to trees in words o fman s
emotion .
1 76 M iscellan eous p o ems .
O S ire o f S ong ! S onata - K ing ! S ublime and loving master The sweetest soul that ever st ruck an octave in disaster ; — In thee were found the fires o fthought the splendours o f endeavour, And thou shalt sway the minds o f men fo r ever and for ever I M iscellan eous p oems . 1 77
A P RA YE R FOR LI GH T.
i - o r O H , g ve me light, to day, let m e die ,
o f - o f The ligh t love , the love light the sky, I ’ That , at length , may see my darling s face ’ O ne minute s space.
H ave I not wept to know myself so weak I no t h That can feel, see, the d impled c eek ,
The lips, the eyes , the sunbeams that enfold H e r locks o fgold ?
I no t I H ave sworn that will not be wed , But mate my soul with h ers o n my death - bed ? — The soul can see, for souls are seraphim , When eyes are d im !
I I h Oh , hush she comes . know her . S e is n igh S h e I brings me death , tru e heart, and will die . S h e brings me love, for love and life are o ne
B eyond the sun . M iscellaneous p o ems .
s Th i i s the measure , this , of all my j oys L ’ ife is a curse and D eath s a counterpoise . G o ne ive me thy hand , O sweet , let me know
\Vh ich path I go .
I a - cannot d ie if thou be n ot n ear, ’ To lead m e o n to Life s appointed sphere .
- O spi rit face, O angel, with thy breath K iss me to death I
1 80 M iscellaneous p oems.
Will she cling to me as kindly When th e childish faith is lo s t ? W ill she pray for me as bl indly,
O r but weigh the wish and cost, Looking back o n o ur lost E den from the girlhood has crossed ?
I I I Oh swear by all honour, I By the graves that endow , I By th e grace set upon her, I That mean t the early vow , Mean t it much as men an d women mean same
th ing S poken no w .
But her maiden troth i s broken ,
And her mind i s ill at ease, And she sends me back n o token From her home beyon d the seas I And know , though n ought is spoken , that she thanks
me o n her knees .
Y e s fo r t , pardon freely gran ed
For she wronged me , understand . And my life is disenchanted
As I wander through the land , With the sorrows o f dark morrows that await in a
band . 1 8 1 M iscellan eous p oems.
V I I I .
H ers was sweetes t o fsweet faces H ers the tenderest eyes o f all I In her hai r sh e had the traces
Of a heavenly coronal , Bringing sunsh ine to sad places where the sunligh t
could not fall .
S h e was fai rer than a vi s ion
L to o . ike a vision , , has flown I wh o flushed at her decision , Lo I I languish here alone And I tremble when I tell you that my anger was
o wn.
N o t I for her , sweet sainted creature C ould I curse her to her face ? I C ould look on form and feature , And deny the inner grace Like a little wax Madonna sh e was holy in the
I And told her, in mad fashion , — That I loved h e n would incl ine
o ne All my life to this passion , And would kneel as at a shrine
And would love her late and early, and would teach
her to be m ine . 1 2 8 M iscellan eous p o ems .
X I I .
N o w in dreams alone I meet her With my lowly human praise h e S i s sweeter and completer, An d she sm iles o n me always I dare no t rise and greet h e r as I did
days .
1 8 4 M iscellan eous p o ems .
“ no There are n o ups i n life , there are downs , “ ” “ Fo r high and low are words o f l ike degree wh o o f H e is light heart wh en Fortune frowns ,
H e is a king though nameless in the towns .
N one is so lofty as the sage who prays , N one so unh igh as he who will not kneel .
The breeze is servant to the summer days ,
- And he is bowed to most wh o most obeys .
I These are the maxims that take to heart, D o o wn thou accept them , reader, for th ine L ove well thy work be truthful in th e mart,
And foes will praise thee when thy friends depart .
V I I I .
N fo r one shall upbraid thee then th ine estate ,
O r show thee meaner than thou art in truth . M Go d ake friends w ith death and who is so great ,
H e w ill assist thee to a nobler fate .
N on e are unfit to serve upon the ir knees
o f to . The saints prayer, unseen but quick hear
The flowers are servants to th e pilgrim bees ,
An d wintry winds are tyrants o fthe trees . 1 8 M isc ellan eous p o ems . 5
All things are good all th ings incur a debt,
o r o r And all must pay the same , soon late .
The sun will rise betimes , but he must set
And Man must seek the laws he would forget .
There are no mockeries in the uni verse,
N 0 no . false accounts , errors that will thrive
The work we do, the good th ings we rehearse ,
Are boons o f N ature basely named a curse .
” o ur I Give us daily bread th e ch ildren pray,
And mothers plead fo r them wh ile thus they speak . “ ” G w Go d I But ive us ork, O we men should say, we to That may gain our bread from day day .
!( I I I .
’Tis not alon e the crown that makes the king ’ ’ o Ti s service done , tis duty t his kind .
The lark who soars so high is quick to sing, o And proud to yield allegiance t the spring .
X I V .
’ And we who serve ourselves, whate e r befall , ’ Athwart th e dangers o fthe day s behests ’ ’ o r Oh , let s n ot sh irk , at j oy sorrow s call , The service due to Go d wh o serves us all I 1 86 M iscellaneous p o ems .
S YL VI A I N TH E WE S T
W HA T shall be done ? I dare not pray
N o r shall I stint the pangs I feel . If to prayers could alter n ight day, —I O r black to white , might appeal I migh t attempt to sway thy heart,
—o r And prove it min e , claim a part .
I m ight attempt to urge on thee o f At least the chance some redress , ’ ’ — a An h our s revoke , momen t s plea,
A smile to make my sorrows less . I — in m igh t perch ance be taught, t ime , T o I blush for h ope , as for a crime
fle e t But thou art stone , th ough soft and , A no t I statue, a maiden , thou A man may hear thy bosom beat v w When thou hast sworn an idle o .
fo r no I fo r But n ot love , n ot this Fo r thou wilt sell thy bridal kiss .
1 88 M iscellan eous p oems .
What I fo r thy sake have I forsworn M — o y just ambition , all my j y, h O e m o m And all my p from to morn , That seemed a pri z e without alloy ? H ave I don e this ? I have and see I
I weep wild tears fo r thine an d thee .
I can to B ut school my soul strength , And weep and wail as ch ildren do
B e h ard as ston e , yet melt at length , to o And curb my pride as thou canst, I I But have faith , and thou hast non e
I . And have j oy, but thine is done
N o - ? N o marriage bells songs , you say N 0 flowers to grace o ur bridal morn ? — N o wine ? N o kiss ? N o wedd ing day ? I care not I Oath s are all forsworn I And , when clasped thy hand so wh ite , — I to to . meant curse thee, girl , nigh t
— so I I n t . And shall , oh doubt o that ’ o f I ll At stroke twelve curse thee twice . n o wl Whe scream s the , wh en swoops th e bat , ’ Wh en gh osts are o ut I ll curse thee thrice . I— And thou shalt hear Aye , by my troth ,
On e song w ill suit th e souls o fboth . M isc ellan eous p oems . 1 89
I curse thy face I curse thy hair I curse thy lips that smile so well,
Thy life , thy love , and my despair,
M - y loveless couch , thy wedding bell M I— I y soul and thine Ah , see though I take o ne half my curses back .
X I I I .
I fo r For thou and were formed hate ,
Fo r fo r . love , scorn no matter what I am thy Fere and thou my Fate ,
And fire and flood shall harm us not . l Thou sha t be killed and hid from ken ,
And fiends will sing thy requ iem then .
X IV .
Ye t th ink not D eath will serve thy stead I ’ll find thy grave , though walled in stone . I’ll move thy mould to make my bed , And lie with thee long hours alone L I Go d ong, lifeless hours Ah , , how free , I H ow pale , h ow cold , thy lips will be
o f But graves are cells truth and love,
And men may talk n o treason th ere .
no - A corpse will wear wedding glove ,
A ghost will make n o sign in air. 1 9 0 M iscellaneous p o ems .
But ghosts can pray Well I le t them kneel
Th ey, too , must loathe th e l ove th ey feel .
X V I .
I Ah m e to sleep and yet to wake, T o live so long, and yet to die ’ T o S sing sad songs for ylvia s sake, And yet n o peace to gain thereby I What have I don e What left unsaid ?
N a I . y, will count my tears instead
XV I I .
f H ere i s a word o wild design . ’ H ere is a threat twas meant to warn .
H ere is a fierce and freezing l ine ,
As hot as hate , as cold as scorn . I — Ah , friend forgive , forbear my rhymes ,
I . But pray for me, sweet soul sometimes
XV I I I .
I to S - H ad a curse pare to day , ’ I n w (Which I have not) d use it o . I’d curse my hair, to turn i t grey ’ I d teach my back to bend and b o w ’ I d make myself so o ld and th in I Th at should seem too sad to sin .
2 1 9 M iscellan eous p o ems.
XXI I I . What I did I curse thy golden hair ?
Well, then , th e sun will set at noon The face that keeps the world so fair
s no I th ine , t his he darkens soon . o f w Thy sm ile awakes th e bird da n ,
And day depart s when thou art gon e .
XX IV . Oh I had I groves in some sweet star w That sh ines in H eaven th e hole n ight through ,
—a A steed with wings , golden car, A someth ing wild an d strange and true ’ ’ faii s — an A y wand , angel s crown , I’d merge them all in thy renown .
XXV .
I’d give thee queens to wait on thee,
An d kings to kn eel to thee in prayer,
- And seraph boys, by land an d sea ,
To do thy bidding, earth and air
— flo we rs To pay th ee homage , all the ,
And all the nymph s in all the bowers .
XXV I .
o ur And th is love should last for aye ,
And we should l ive these thousand years . ’ W e d M o n C D a meet in ars hristmas y,
And make th e tour o fall th e spheres . We’d do strange th ings I S weet stars would sh ine D And eath would spare my love and thine . I M iscellan eous p o ems . 9 3
XXV I I . B ut these are dreams and dreams are vain
M o f — so in e most all , heed them not .
B rave thoughts will die , though men complain , ’ T is And min e was bold I now forgot . I Well let me bless thee , ere sleep ,
And give thee all my j oys to keep .
XXV I I I .
I bless the house wh ere thou wast born , ’ o f And every bower that s th ine right , And every hour from flush of morn
T o o f — death day, for thy deligh t . I bles s the sunbeams as they sh ine, S o like th ose golden locks o f th ine I
XX IX .
I e bl ss th y lips , thy lustrou s eyes , T h a y face , thy feet , thy foreh e d fair,
The light that sh ines in summer skies ,
In garden walks when thou art th ere ,
And all the grass beneath thy feet , s in e st S I And all the songs thou g , weet
XXX. — ’ I B ut blessing thus , ah , woe s the day I I know what tears shall not shed ,
What flowers will bloom , and , bright as
What bell s will ring when I am dead . I Ah , kill m e , kiss me , curse m e , Thou
But let me be thy minstrel n ow . 1 94 M iscellan eous p o ems .
E LI A N ORE .
T H E forest flowers are faded all ,
-flak e s The winds complain , the snow E l' ianore I I turn to thee , as to a bower
b re ath e st Thou beauty like a flower, smile s t Thou like a happy h our, E l 'ianore I
I I . I I turn to thee . bless afar
- Thy name , wh ich i s my guiding star,
' ' E l ianore I Go d I And yet , ah when thou art here I I faint , hold my breath for fear .
A rt th ou some phantom wandering near,
' ' E l i anore
I I I .
to Oh , take m e mybosom fair
Oh , cover me with thy golden hai r,
' ' E l i anore I There let me lie when I am dead
- Those morn ing beams about me spread , ’ o f o e rh e ad The glory thy face , E li' anore I
1 6 9 M iscellan eous p o ems .
N o I thou wilt never flee, E arth has a charm for thee Why should we sever ? I 5 Years have seen thee 0 , M to aking pretence go,
L o f ifting th ine arms snow , Voiceless for ever I
I H ere bring all my cares , H ere dream and say my prayers
Wh ile th e bells toll . O thou beloved saint I Le t not my courage faint,
Le t o r not a shame , taint, Inj ure my soul ! M iscellan eous p oems . 1 9 7
P A BL O D E SA RA SA TE .
I .
W H O to - o n comes , day, with sunlight h is face , ’ o f w And eyes fire , that have a sorro s trace, But no t are sad with sadness of the years , O r h ints o f tears
I I .
o r I H e is a king, mistake the sign , o f —a N me A king song, comrade of the , M ’ The uses brother, and their youngest one ,
Th is side the sun .
’ S e e h o w he bends to greet h is soul s desire,
H i s violin , which trembles like a lyre,
And seems t o trust h im , and to know h is touch , B eloved so much I
I V .
H e stands full height he draws it to h is breast ,
L o ne o - ike , in j y, who takes a wonder guest, to A weird , w ild thing, bewitched from end end ,
To be h is friend .
And wh o can doubt the right it h as t o li e S o near his heart, and there to sob and sigh , And there to shake i ts octaves into notes With bird - like throats 8 1 9 M iscellan eous p oems.
w b o w Ah I see h ow deftly, ith h is l ifted , o f wo e H e strikes the chords ecstasy and , And wakes th e wailing o fth e sprite with in
Th at knows not sin .
s A thousand heads are turned to where h e stand ,
A thousand hopes are moulded to hi s hands ,
- And , like a storm wind hurryingfrom the n orth , A shout breaks forth I
V I I I .
It is the welcome that o f o ld was given T o Pagan in i ere he j oined in H eaven The angel - choi rs o f those who serve aright L The Go d o f igh t .
It o f is th e large , loud utterance a th rong
- That loves a faith employed , impassioned song
A song that soothes the heart , and makes it sad ,
Y e t keeps us glad .
Fo r look I h ow bearded men and women fair
S hed tears and smile , and half repeat a prayer,
And half are shamed i n thei r so mean estate , And h e s o great I
2 00 M iscellaneous p oems .
XVI .
I They seemed to l ive an d lo beyond recall , S ! They take th e sweet sad ilence for a pal , to And , wrapt therein , consen t be d ismissed , — Though glory kissed .
XV I I .
O pride o f S pain I O wizard with a wand More fraught with fervours o fth e life beyond
Than books h ave taught us in these tawdry days ,
Take thou my praise .
XV I I I .
P I Aye, take it , ablo Though so poor a th ing, ’ Twi ll serve to mi nd thee o f an E nglish spring
When wealth , and worth , and fash ion , each and all ,
Obeyed thy thrall .
X IX .
The lark that sings i ts love - song in th e cloud
I s Go d- — inspired and glad , but is n ot proud ,
And soon forgets the salvos of the breeze ,
As thou dost these .
The shouts , the praises , and the swift acclaim ,
That men have brough t to magnify thy name , Affect thee barely as an idle chee r f Af ects a seer. 26 1 M iscellaneous p oems .
XXI .
P I - B ut thou art ours , O ablo ours to day ,
Ours , and not ours , in th y triumphant sway And we must u rge it by the right that brings
H onour to kings .
XXI I .
H to onour thee , thou stately, thou d ivin e And far -famed m instrel o f a mighty l in e I to H onour th ee , and peace , and musings high , Good - night I Good -b ve 20 2 M iscellan eous p o ems.
P R O P A TR I A .
A N OD E TO S B R E WI N U N .
We h a ve no t a la c a n a ll to b e fie nd us , k I y r , A nd th e se as n i i e o i o s r p t e x t rpa t e a nd e nd us .
Le t th e Ge ma n o uc a nds wi h a l r t h h th t e G u , A nd th e f o l s o rtre ss f E ng a nd m u t fa ll.
Lo ude r and lo ude r th e no ise o fde fia nc e
R in s a e f o m th e av f us l i nc e g r g r gr e o a tr tle ss a l a ,
A nd b ids us e wa e n e wa ne b r , a d b r d,
A s a e d o f a l a i c r d b h o rr l n t o ns and s o ne . — A ' W fi . r A ordfo r th e N a tio n , y . C S w z né u ue J
N A Y S ir P , good oet , read thy rhymes again ,
And curb the tumults that are born in thee ,
re le ntful That n ow thy hand , , may refrain T o deal the blow that Abel had of C ain .
I I .
we Are n ot Britons born , when all is said , An d thou the offspring of the kn ightly souls C e Who fought for harles wh en fears were harvest d , ’ And C romwell rose to power o n C harles s h ead ?
I I I .
O reckless , roystering bard , that in a breath ’ H ast found th e way to flout thy fathers flag, ’ R l s t well , unheeding what thy eason saith , ’ T o seem to triumph in thy country s death ?
26 4 M iscellaneous p o ems .
E ngland a coward ? O thou five foot five Of flesh and blood and sinew and th e rest I I s sh e not girt with glory and alive T o hear thee bu z z thy scorn o f all the h ive ?
- a Thou art a bee , bright , a golden th ing With too much honey and the taste th ereof
I s som etimes rough , an d somewhat of a sting D wells in the music that we h ear thee sing .
o Oh , thou hast wronged us thou hast said f late M ore than is good for l isteners to repeat . N a I o f y, have marvelled at thy words hate , Fo r friends and foes alike have deemed us great .
W e I to are not vile We , too, have h ea rts feel A nd not in vain have men remembered th is . O ur hands are quick at tim es to clasp the steel ,
An d strike the blows that centuries cannot heal .
XI I I .
The sea - ward rocks are proud to be assailed
By wave an d wind for bluster kills itself, u E B ut rocks end re . And ngland has prevailed
o ut o f . Times number, when her foes have failed M iscellan eous p o ems . 26 5
X IV .
’ k no w st And once, thou , a giant here was found , N o t in bred France , or elsewhere under sun . S o f And he was hakespeare the whole world round , o f An d h e was king men , though n ever crowned .
H e loved the gracious earth from east to west,
And all the seas thereof and all its sh ores .
But most he loved th e homestead he possessed , o r wro n And , right . g, his country seemed the best .
X V I .
’ H e was content with Albion s classi c land .
r H e loved its flag h e veiled its eve y fault . to Yes I he was proud let its honour stand, , o w And bring t light the onders it had planned .
XV I I .
Do thou thus much and deal no further pain But sooner tear the tongue from out thy mouth
And sooner let the life in thee be slain , wh o no Than strike at One strike s thee t again .
XV I I I .
o ur E Thy land and mine , ngland , is erect ,
And like a lordly thing she looks on thee ,
And sees thee numbered with her bards elect , no t And will harm the brow that sh e has decked . 6 26 M iscellan eous p o ems .
X I X .
h e S h e S lets thee live . knows how rich and rare
Are songs like thine , and how the smallest bird M a y make much music in th e summer ai r,
And how a curse may turn into a prayer .
I Take back thy taunt , say and with the same
o ur o r — if ff Accept pardon , this o end , ’ E ’ Why th en no pardon , e en in ngland s name .
o ur I We have country still, and thou thy fame
20 8 M iscellan eous p oems .
But here let n o man come,
M to y mourn ing rights sever. Wh o lieth here is cold and dumb, H e r dust is mine fo r ever I 20 M isc ellan eous p o ems . 9
A DI R GE .
A R T thou lonely in thy tomb ? Art thou cold in such a gloom ? R ouse thee, then , and make me room , Miserere D omine I
P e x hantoms v thy virgin sleep , N ameless things around thee creep, Ye t no t be patien t , do weep , Miserere D om ine I
O be faithful I 0 be brave I N ought shall harm thee in thy grave Le t the restless spirits rave , Miserere D omine I
When my pilgrimage i s done , o f Go d wo n When the grace is , I to will come thee, my nun , Miserere Dom ine I O Z I O M iscellaneous p oems .
Like a priest in flowing vest, L ike a pale, unbidden guest , I to w ill come thee and rest , Miserere D omine I
2 1 2 M isc ellan eous p o ems .
O gems o fearth I O trinkets o fthe spring I
The sun , your gentle king ,
Who counts your leaves an d marshals ye apace, In many a sacred place ,
The godlike summer sun will miss ye all ,
Fo r he has fostered all th ings , great and small , ’
Y ea o n . , all good th ings that live earth s revolving ball
o n But when , deck, he sees with eye serene
- The kirtles , tender green , o f An d fair fresh faces his hardy flowers, H o w fo r will he throb hours , o f h And w ish th e lark , the laureate the l ig t ,
Were near at hand , to see so fair a sigh t,
And chan t the j oys th ereof in words we cannot write .
I Oh , have loved ye more than may be told ,
- And deemed it fairy gold ,
r - — And fai y silver, that ye bear withal so Y e are soft and small , I weep for j o y to find ye here to - day o S o n ear t H eaven , and yet so far away ,
- In o ur good ocean ship, whose bows are wet
spray .
Ye are the cynosure o fmany eyes
- E B righ t blue as nglish skies , ’ The sailor s eyes that scan ye in a row , As if intent to sh ow M isc ellan eous p o ems . 2 1 3
That this dear freight o fmould and meadow -flo we r
Which sails the seas , in sun sh ine and in shower, ’ Is E o f no t ngland s gift love , which storms shall de vo un
VI I I .
S h e sends ye forth in sadness and in j oy , As o ne may send a toy ’ T o ch ildren s ch ildren , bred in other lands
- By love abiding hands .
And , day by day , ye sail upon the foam ’ ’ T to o call m ind the sires and mothers hom e , o f Where babes, now grown to men , were wont
to roam .
’ ’ In E S — ngland s name , in hakespeare s , and in ours ,
fl o we rs Who bear these trusted ,
There shall be heard a cheer from many throats ,
' A o f rush and roar notes ,
As loud , and proud, as those of heavenward birds And they who till the ground and tend th e h erds o ur Will read thoughts therein , and clothe th e same in
word s .
’ Fo r E E ngland s sake , for ngland once again , In pride and power and pain ,
F I fo r E o r E ngland , aye ngland in the girth
Of all her j oy and worth ,
cle ar A strong and , outspoken , undefined ,
And uncontrolled wild shout upon the wind , Will greet th ese win some flowers as friends o fhuman kind I
S onn ets. 2 1 7
E CS TA S Y.
I C A N N OT sing to thee as I would sing If I we re quickened like the holy lark
m o n With fire fro H eaven and sunl igh t h i s wing, Who wakes the world with witcheries o fthe dark R enewed in rapture in th e reddening air. I A thing of splendour d o deem him then , ’ A feathered frenzy with an angel s throat , A something sweet that somewhere seems to float ’ to to Twixt earth and sky, be a sign men . H e fills me with such wonder and despai r I I o l ng to kiss thy locks , so golden b right , o f As he doth kiss the tresses th e sun . I o ne Oh bid me sing to thee , my chosen , do L to And thou teach me , ove , sing aright I 2 1 8 S onn ets .
S VI SI ON .
T H E P o n oet meet s Apollo the hill , P an P And and Flora and the aphian Q u een , ’i And infan t n a ads bathing in the rill ,
An d d ryad maids that dance upon the green , And faun s an d Oreads in th e s ilver sheen
They wear in summer, when th e winds are still . o f H e quaffs the wine life, and quaffs his fill , C And sees reation through its mask terrene .
Th e dead are wise , for th ey alon e can see — As see the bards , as see, beyond t h e dust , o f Th e eyes babes . The dead alone are j ust . There is n o comfort in the bitter fee
That scholars pay for fame . True sage is he o n r Who doubts all doubt , and takes the soul t ust .
220 S onnets .
P R OBA TI ON .
C O LD I L ! U , O ove obtain a charter clear
To be thy bard , in all thy n ights an d days , I to would con sult the stars , from year year,
o f And talk with trees , and learn them their way s , And why the nymphs s o seldom no w appear
In z human form , with rapt an d earnest ga e I r o And would lea n of thee why J y decays ,
An d why the Faun s have ceased to flourish here . I ’ “ ” would , in answer to th e Wind s Alas I ’ Explain the causes o fa sorrow s fligh t I would peruse th e writing o n the grass Wh ich flowers have traced in blue and red and wh ite I And , reading these , would , as from a pen , R ead thoughts of thin e ungues sed by other m en I S onn ets . 22 1
D A N TE .
H E l ived and loved h e suffered he was poor was o f But he gifted with the gifts H eaven ,
o f - And those all th e week days that are seven , o f An d those all th e centuries that endure .
H e bowed to none h e kept h i s honour sure . H e followed in th e wake o f those E leven C u ! Who walked with hrist , and lifted p h is steven
T o keep the bulwarks o fh is faith secure . H e knew the secrets o f the singing - time H e tracked th e sun h e ate the lusciou s frui t Of grief and j o y and with h is wonder - lute
H e made himself a name in every clim e . o f The minds men were madly stricken mute, And all the worl d lay subject to h is rhyme I
S e ve n a o ice o ld wo d re v ve d. t , v r i 222 S onn ets .
DI FFI DEN CE .
I C N OT A N deck my though t in proud attire,
O r make i t fit for thee in any dress,
to o f Or sing thee the songs thy desire , ’ ’ I n o r summer s heat , by the w inter s fire ,
o r O r give thee cause to comfort to bles s .
I o wn For have scanned m ine unworthiness , And well I know the weakness o f the lyre W I h ich have s triven to sway to thy caress . Ye t m ust I quell my tears and calm the smart
O f my vext soul , an d steadfastly emerge ’ From lonesome thoughts , as from the tempest s
surge.
I o f mus t con trol the beating my heart,
wh o And bid false pride be gone , , with h i s art ,
I no t . H as pressed , too long, a suit dare urge
224 S onn ets .
S PI RI T L O VE .
H OW great my j oy ! H o w grand my recompense I I b o w I I ; praise ; keep the e in my sight . I in call thee m in e, i n love , though not sen se To share wi th thee the heritage immense
Of holy dreams wh ich come to u s at night .
Fo r u o f - , through the medi m the sp irit lens , W e its see the soul , i n primeval light, R An d eason spares th e hopes i t cannot bligh t .
I t o f no t is the soul thee , and the form
A nd I n- not the face , year to in my sleep .
I t f. i s thysel The body is the storm, The soul the s tar beyond it in th e deep N ’ Of ature s calm . And yonder on the steep S un o f I The Faith , quiescent, round , and warm 22 S onnets . 5
A FTER T WO DA YS .
A N OT H ER night has turned i tself to day,
Another day has melted into eve, An d 10 I again I tread the measured way
to O f word an d though t, the twain interweave,
As flowers absorb the rays that they receive . I And , all along the woodland where stray, I o f o f I o f Ma think thee, an d the des y, it And sorrow soothes the sou l would bereave .
N o r I w ill fear that thou , so far apart, S o d so ear to m e, fair, and s o benign , Wilt uh - desire the fealty of a heart
Which evermore is pledged to thee and thine, t An d urns to thee , in regions where thou art, To hymn the raptures o f thy face divin e I 2 26 S onn ets .
B YR ON .
H E was a god descen ded from the skies ’ o f m o e r To fight the fight Freedo a grave, And consecrate a hope he could not save
For he was weak withal , and foolish wise. a D ark were h is thoughts, and str nge his destinies ,
An d oftentimes h is life he did deprave .
Bu t all do pity h im , though n one despise . ’ w s o f H e a a prince song, though s orrow s slave . — h H e asked for tears , and they were tinged wit fire
H e asked for love , and love was sold to h im . ’ H e looked for solace at the goblet s brim ,
An d found it n ot ; then wept upon his lyre. ’ o f H e sang the songs all the world s des ire , H e wears the wreath no rival ry ca n dim I
2 2 8 S onn ets .
’ L O VE S DE FEA T.
D O what I will I cann ot chan t so well
As oth er men ; and yet my soul is true . M y hopes are bold my thoughts are hard to tell , to o B ut thou can st read them , and accept them , ,
- e fr Though , h alf abashed, they seem to h id om
view . I I th e strike the lyre , s ound hollow shell ;
wh Fo r m And y comfort, when y thoughts rebel , a An d when I cou nt the woes th t must en sue .
fo r o ne B ut thi s reason , an d no other , I wa b o w dare to look thy y, an d my head
To thy s weet nam e, as sunflower to th e sun , no t Though , peradven ture, so wisely fed
With garden fancies . Tears mus t n ow be shed , do ne I U nnumbered tears , till life or love be 2 2 S onn ets . 9
X I I I .
M T I GH T A TH UNDE RS TOR A N .
TH E l ightning is the shorthand o f the storm That tells o f chaos an d I read the same
o ne As may read the writing of a n ame , As o ne in H ell may see the sudden form ’ G - fin er in Of od s fore g pointed as blame. H o w weird the scene I The D ark is sulphur- warm With hints o f death and in their vaul t enorme h T e reeling stars coagulate in flame.
And n ow the torrents from their mountain -beds R oar down unchecked ; and serpents shaped o f m is t Writhe up to H eaven with unforbidden heads
- i And thunder clouds, whose lightn ings ntertwist, R it i ack all the sky, an d tear nto shreds , And shake the air like Titans that have kissed I 0 23 S onnets .
I N T US CA N Y.
D O ST o f thou remember, friend vanished days, H o w o f in the golden lan d love and song, We met in April i n the crowded ways
O f that fair city where the soul is strong, ? Aye I strong a s fate, for good or evil praise
h o w all And the lord whom the world obeys ,
The lord of light to whom the stars belong, Illumed the track that led thee through th e throng ? D ost thou remember, in the wooded dale,
o o f D D Beyond the t wn ante the ivine , H ow all the a ir was flooded as with wine ?
And h ow th e lark, to drown the n ightingale, o u ? I P ealed t sweet notes l ive to tell the tale . But thou ? Oblivion sign s thee with a sign !
2 2 3 S onn ets .
R E MOR S E .
GO I I , get thee gone . love thee not, swear ; I An d if loved th ee well in days gon e by ,
I d trifle d An d if kisse , and with thy hair
An d crowned my love, t o prove th e same a lie, M y doom is th is : my joy was quick to die . The chain o f cu stom in the drowsy lai r
Of some slain v is ion , i s a weight to bear, it — I And both abhorred , thou as well as . ’ Go d ! - I Ah , tis tearful tru e ; an d repen t I And l ike a dead, live man live for th is ’ T o o n stand , unvalued , a dream s abyss ,
o wn And be min e m os t piteous m onumen t . ! I L o f a ? What d id rob thee, ady, kiss r it The e, take back and frown an d be content I 2 S onn ets . 33
XVI I .
TH MI S S I ON F TH E B A R D E O .
H E - is a seer. H e wears th e wedding ring N Of Art and ature ; and h i s voice i s bold .
H e should be qu icker than the birds to s ing, And filled wi th frenzy like the men o f o ld
Wh o fo r o sang their songs c un try and for king . N othing sh ould daunt h im , though the news were told B y fiends from Hell I H e should be s wift to hol d
And swift to part w ith truth , as from a spring . ’ s H e hould discourse of war and war s alarm , be An d deeds of peace, an d garlan ds to sough t, b ’ And love, an d lore , and death , an d eauty s charm , u And warlike men subd ed by tender thought , mi And grief d is ssed , and hatred set at naugh t , And Freedom sh ielded by h is strong right arm I 234 S onnets .
XV I I I .
D E A T H .
IT o z o f is the j y, it i s th e es t life,
T o D know that eath , ungainly to th e v ile ,
I s n ot a traitor with a reckless kn ife, no t o f And a serpen t with a look gu ile, ’ o ne wh B ut o greets u s with a seraph s smile,
- to An angel guest tend u s after strife, And keep u s true to Go d when fears are rife
o r An d scepti c thought would daun t us defile . H e walks th e world as o ne empowered to fill
f fo r S o n Th e fields o space Father an d for . we H e is our friend , though morbidly shun
- H is a . tender touch , cure for every ill f w n H e i s the king o peace, he all is done .
E arth and the air are moulded to h is will .
2 6 3 S onn ets .
E X TE N E B RA .
T H E winds have showered the ir rains upon th e sod , w And flo ers and trees have murmured as wi th l ips . The very silence has appealed to Go d ’ I n man s behalf, though sm itten by H is rod . ’Twould seem as if the blight of some eclips e — H ad dulled th e skies, as if, on mountain t ips , w o f The inds H eaven had spurned the life terren e,
’
And clouds were foundering l ike ben ighted ships .
is B u t what this , exultan t , unforeseen ,
a Which cleaves the dark ? A fe rful , burning th ing I ’ I s it th e moon ? Or S aturn s scarlet ring H urled into space ? It is the tempest - sun I It i s the advent o f the Ph oeb an king Which tells the valleys that the storm is done I S onn ets . 23 7
XX I .
VI C TOR H UGO.
C TOR K I - VI the ing al ive to day, not dead ! I ’ B ehold , bring thee with a subj ect s han d
A poor pal e wreath , the best at m y command ,
B ut all un fit to deck s o grand a head . I t is the outcome of a n eighbour lan d D m enoun ced of thee, and spurned for any years . ’ I t is the token o f a nat ion s tears
o ft h as Wh ich j oyed in thee , an d shall again . L ove for thy hate, applause for thy disdain , w These are the flo ers we spread upon thy hearse .
to - - We give thee back , day , thy poet curse
we We call thee friend ; rat ify thy reign . K ings change their sceptres for a funeral stone, Bu t thou thy tomb hast turned in to a throne ! 2 8 3 S onn ets.
XXI I .
C YN TH IA .
L D M o f all S O A Y oon , elect the pheres
T o n o f - be the guard ia th e ocean tides , I f charge thee, say , by all thy hopes an d ears, o f And by thy face , the oracle brides, Wh y evermore R emorse with thee abides ?
I s life a bane to thee, an d fraught w ith tears , That thu s forlorn an d sad thou dos t confer With ghosts and shades P erchance thou dos t aspire
To P o - bridal honours, an d thy h ebus si re ’ wh o e e r ? Forb ids the bann s , thy su itor be
I s u o f ? th is thy grievance, O tho chief nuns O r dost thou weep to know that j upi ter Hath many moons—h is daughters and h is sons E o ne in ? And arth , thy mother, only thee
240 S onn ets .
XXI V.
TH E S ON NE T KI N G.
0 P ETR A R C H I I I am here . bow to thee, G e reat king of sonnets , thron d long ago,
- L e n o ineth An d lover like , as ove j me,
A nd - o f wo e miser like, enamoured my , I reckon up my teardrops as they flow , I would not lose the p ower to shed a tear
r o f P Fo all the wealth lutus an d h is reign . I would no t be s o base as not complai n W I lo ve hen she is absen t from my sight,
N 0 all o f , not for the marvels the night,
And all the varying splendours of the year.
D o I thou assist me , thou that art th e light ’ o Of all tru e l vers souls , in all the sphere,
a - f m To make a M y time o y sorrows slain . S onn ets. 24 1
XXV.
TOK E N FL O WER S .
O H o f Go d , n ot the daisy, for the love I I Le t Take n ot the daisy it bloom apace , U n touched alike by splendour o r disgrace O f party feud ! I ts stem is not a rod
o r o n s o d An d no one fears , hates i t, the . I t M ’ laugh s , exultan t , i n th e orn ing s face ,
An d everywhere doth fill a l owly place ,
Though fraugh t with favours for the darkest clod . ’ Ti s said the primrose i s a party flower, A n d mean s coercion , and the coy renown
wh o f r Of one toiled for country and o crown . ’ o f m L But, i n th e circui t y ady s bower, I t mean s conten t , a hope, a golden hour . P rimroses sm ile ; an d daisies cann ot frown ! 242 S onnets .
XXV I .
A VE TE RA N P OE T.
I K N EW thee firs t as on e may know the fame — w O f some apostle, as a man may kno ’ - - o r The mid day sun far shining e th e sn ow . I hailed thee prince of poets I I became
Vassal of thine, an d warmed me at the flam e
O f thy pure though t, my spirit all aglow
h o f w Wit dreams peace , and pomp , and lyric sho ,
n M o f n And all the sple dours , aster I thy ame .
a —a m en B ut now , a man reve led , guide for , I see thy face and clasp thee by the hand M And though the uses i n thy presence stand , ’ fo r There s room me to loiter in thy ken . O lordly soul I O wizard o f th e pen I ? ? What news fro m Go d What word fro m Fairyland
P R T E D B Y B LL T Y E H S O A N D C O . IN A AN N , AN N
E D I N B U R G H A N D LO N D O N . ' S mall I‘ m/are p rice Fz z 'e
Lo vz LETT ERS o r A VI OLI NIS T.
B A Y E R I C MA C K Y .
P N N F T H E P R E S O I I O S O S .
’ The app e ara nc e o f th is b o o k o f Love Le tt e rs in a time s o ma tt e r o f-fa ct as Our o wn m us t b e re ga rde d in so m e s o rt a s a lit e r a ry ph e no ' m e W e ni s ut o f no n. e fi nd o urse lve s lifte d a t o nc e b y th e a u th o r s g u o
is E n la n f t o -da nd a re a ns o e in n a mo s e e a s a e th g d o y, a tr p rt d t o a t ph r r r f is a nd e th e r e a l as th a t o fth e p o e t o f Va ucluse . Wh o th e La ura o th m o de n P e a c ma e i n is c ve e b ut i m a b e a sse e d a r tr r h y b s o t d o r d. t y rt th t h e r lo ve h as ld hi i in n m e f e x ui i e m e l d a nd h a r t o s pa ss o n u b rs o q s t o y , s s o u nde d in h e r e ar v e i th w l a m — i o e s its e e ry no t n e h o e g u t o flo ve ts h p , ! de s ai l i — in p r, its u t ma t e triumph . M o r n g P o s t.
I t we r e mu ch to b e wis h e d th a t th e ge ne rali ty o fmo de rn e ro tic p o e t s wo uld a e e x m le E c M c m i e le a n a b t k a p b y ri a k ay ; th e n ght th y r th t , y th e ue o e i c so ul uma n ass to n ma d a t e le va e it to tr p t , h p y b e s o tre a t e s o t
a u e a nd s i i al f c e in e ad f in I m e e nimalis m . p r p r t u o r , s t o b e g de grade d nt o r a
T h e vo lume i a i in ne . Th e ve w r nd i ina l b s s tr k g o rse is p o e ful a o r g , o th in fo m and s ub s a nc P a ss i n is n d h e m t o e nin r t e o , i de e , t e th e a p g ; b ut th e m e re e a rth ly is s o sub tly e le va t e d a nd adva nc e d thro ugh th e s e ve a l i ns f h e m c im x 15 m e e d in t h e r gra da o o t p o e a , a t the l a , it rg t , th t
n b le f r — i tr ue st a d no s t lo ve o ma n fo wo man. T h e Gr ap h c .
Eric M ack a y will pro b a b ly b e nu mb e re d with th e ch o ic e fe w wh o se H is name s a re de s t ine d t o li ve b y th e side o f su ch p o e t s as K e a t s . l ’ e pith e t s a re q u it e U ni c o rn e ntio nal and h is c o nc e ptio ns e ntir e ly o rigina .
Gla s g o w H e r ald.
‘ Th e Lo ve Le tt e rs o f Eric Ma ck a y a re th e h a ndiwo rk o f a b rilliant
i i b t fu n a s io na e wo me tr cal a rt s t and p o e t b o rn . A e au i l a d p s t rk s b c n c i n e i a e —it s io n c a a c it e au y a o f o s r u o la ng ua g , m g ry s pa s r t th t t t , h te ristic o f th e a is ic T h e e m is u i e o i inal its rt t na t u re . p o q t r g , m anne r E liz a b e th an E ric Ma ckay is a na t ura l lyris t with a s in in fac ul a nd a no ve l m e ic al fo m suc as fe w is s ave a t g g ty , tr r h Iyr t h — “ c o mma nd E . dm n in Vic to r/m: P o ts E di . 1 88 . . C . S te a , e , t 7
t he I otos S eries .
V LU ME 1 O .
ORIGINA L TRAVELS
A N D S U R P R IS I NG A DV EN T U R ES O F
BA RON MUNCHA USEN.
F E W I LL I llustrated by A L R D C R O QU .
A N E W E D I T I ON.
Tb ese ta les lza ve been befo re tlze p ublic for more
Ma n a lzu ndred ea rs . Tb e rst editio n u blislzed y fi , p in L o ndon in 1 8 m et wit/i imm edia te s ucc ss a nd 7 5, e , s ince tlz a t tim e nu mb erless editions lza ve appeared a a ll a ua e in lmost l ng g s . S o a r a s is kno wn o t/z eir ori in tlic com ile r f f g , p of tlz is boo/z dre w la rge ly o n lzis recollections of tli e s tra nge ta les inv ented for tlz e a mus em ent of li is b o on co mpa nio ns by B aron M u nc/z a usen of B oden ’ w eder wlz o died in 1 . l e B a ro n s re uta tio n , 79 7 p a s a teller of goo d s to ries app ears to lea ve b een w ell esta blislzed b e lea d tra velled w idel a nd w a s mu cli , y, given to enterta ining b is friends wit/i recitals of lits o rigina l a nd s u rp ris ing a dventu res . l e p ublislz ers lea ve prep a red t/z e Lo tos edition of tlzis w ork in tlze lz o e tli a t a lz a nd editio n w e ll p y , rinted a nd ta st u ll b o und w ill be a cce ta ble to p ef y , p a la rge nu mber of tlzose wb o still apprecia te a wo rle t/za t lza s giv en pleas ure a nd a m usement to genera tions of rea ders t/zro uglz o ut t/ze w orld. ” (the 3Lotos S eries .
L V O U M E I I .
THE BREI L TMA NN BA L A DS .
B C R E S G LE y HA L . LAND .
A N E W E D I T I O N .
' t/z a A ew P re a ce a nd additiona l P oe m l f s .
” “ Tlits edition in tlze B rettma nn B a lla ds con ta ins severa l new p oems not included in a ny
rev io us collection a nd tlze a u tli o r lias a dded a p , new p refa ce in wlzicli lie says Tno ug/z twenty yea rs lea ve p assed s ince tlz e fi rs t appea ra nce of tli e ‘ ’ B reitm a nn B a lla ds in a colle cted o rm tlze f , — a utli or is deeply gra tified a nd not less s incerely — gra teful to tlze p ublic in k no wing t/za t H a ns s till
l ves in m a n mem ories til a t lie co ntin ues to e i y , b quoted wlz en w riters w islz to illus trate a n ex u ber ‘ ’ a nt o o us b a rt or la dies s o ver asl uona b ly j y y, y f ly
‘ ’ dressed a s to reca ll de ma idens mit nodin s o n g , a nd th a t no inconsidera ble n u mber of tlzose wl/ o
‘ ’ a re beginning Ger m an continue to be a ddress ed by sportive friends in tb e B reitm a nn dia lect a s a
ir a a cit a s lin uis ts F or a s compliment to tlze c p y g . a you ng medica l s tu dent is aslced by a nx io us
im a tes i li e b a s o t a s ar a s sa lts I lea ve int f g f , b ea rd inquiries a ddressed to tyros in Teu tonic ” wlzetlzer tltey lia d m astered tlzese songs . t he iLotos S eries .
VO LU ME I I I.
ESSA YS ON MEN A ND BOOKS
S ELEC TE D FROM T H E EA RLI E R W R IT IN GS OF
L O R D MA C A U LA Y.
Wit/z C ritica l I ntrodu ction a nd N otes
B A E ER H . LL . D y L XAND JAPP ,
I —In roduc o Lord Clive J oh n Mil on Earl of VOL. . t t ry ; ; t ; h am Lord B on Ch at yr .
I/Vitlz P ortra its .
b is intro du ctio n w rites : H M a D r. a in e c pp, , ( a u la do es no t s a ve in ex ce tiona l ca ses rem ain y) , p , long witb tb e ma n wb o sugges ts tb e s ubj ect; b e pa sses witb a few b urried s teps from ib e p ers on to uences a ro u nd b im a nd re—crea tes or u s tb c infl , f tb e w orld in wb icb b e moved, witb a ll its s ecret i s its b idden l e a nd mo tive as w ell as tendenc e , if ,
n rs its o u tw a rd a ir a nd a s ect. H e ea d its ma n e , p r every/ Ming ; bu t b e b a d a lso tb e a rt to bring rem ote b in s to etb er a nd tb us m a de tb em do u bl eu t g g , y ln tening a nd illu stra tiv e . ’ M a ca u lay s s tyle len t its elf rea dily to tb is b ind t I t is ues tiona ble i s o mu cb b istor w as of effo r . q f y n in s o un retendin a r I n t se ev er writte p g fo m . b e ess ays w e b a v e tb e b is tory of E ngla nd fro m tb e E liz a b tb n ts m os t t b days of Queen e i i s ri ing p eriods . onder tb a t tb e S ib lline lea ves as M oore lVo w y , tb em b s ome na tive virtue in tb em cla imed ca lled , y , , to be bro u b t togetb er : tb ey fo rm one of tb c m os t g — m agnifi cent co ntribu tions to b is tory tb e m ore a t t tb a t tb e a re so a r rom bein orm a l a nd tra c ive y f f gf , r bein conceived a ter tb e dr o ld a sb ioned f om g f y , f ” r s tyle of b is to y .
t he I otos 5 61 465 .
V OL U ME V I .
THE MA RVELLOUS A DVENTURES
A N D RA RE CONCEITS
MA STER TYLL OWLGLA SS .
N e wl C o lle c e d C h o nicle d and S e t Fo h in o ur y t , r , rt E n l sh T o n ue g i g .
B K E E R H M K E Z E y N N T H . . A C N I , w n i F e llo o f th e S o cie t y o f A t q ua rie s .
A nd A dorned wit/i lit a ny most D iverting a nd C unning
evices b A R E R W U I L L D y LF D C O Q .
N D T N E A EW E I I O . a 3 i67 “ m n O' Extract f om Fi st P ef ce . A o tb e r r r a é booles of tb e Germ a n na tion no t o ne b a s o bta ined s o genera l a circu la tion as tb a t no w p resented in a n
E n lis b orm . ft b as been deemed w ortb a s g f y, tb A endix m a be erceiv ed o bein tra nsla t by c pp y p , f g ed into F rencb D u tcb B a nisb P o lisb na even , , , , y, H e b rew a nd b onou red b bein re rinted on ever b ind , y g p y o a er ood a nd ba d. A a vourite a m on tb f p p , g f g c o u n or its a musin a nd u a int a dventures a nd y gf g q , a s tu d a mon tb ose wb o s triv e b ib e dili nt om y g , y ge c a ris on o de erent era s o na tio na l litera ture to p f f f , a rrive a t a due a recia tion o natio na l cb ara ct r pp f e , E u lens ie el o r Owl la ss ib e boor easant os p g , g (p ), p ” ia r va lu tb sesses a pecu l e for e old.