PO EM S : N EW AN D OL D

BY H ENRY NEWBOLT

N E W YO RK P D O AND E . . UT T N COM PA NY

1 92 1

EDWARD

VI K G SCOUNT GREY OF FALLODON, . . AUT HOR’ S NOT E

T11 1 3 volume forms a complete collection of all m y

b d 1 8 1 1 8 I t d pu lishe work in verse from 97 to 9 . inclu es

the cont ents of five previo u s volumes : Admirals All

Tbe I slan d Ra ce Tine Sa iling ofth e L ong

' Slaz s Son s o M e mor a n d Ho e an d St p g f y p . ’ Ge orge s Day together with a num ber of pieces

dd d t a e to the later edi ions of the first two of these, ten poems first collected in P oe ms : Ne w a nd Old d b and six which have not hitherto appeare in ook form .

H . N . C ONT ENT S

PAGE SON GS OF T H E FLEET

1 A . S ILING AT DAWN ’ S O N G II . THE OF THE SOU WESTER

A III . THE MIDDLE W TCH

I V TH E . LITTLE ADMIRAL

T H E O F T H E AT S E A V . SON G GUN S i A VI . F REWELL

A D AY 1 0 ODE FOR TRAF LGAR , 9 5 THE HUNDREDTH YEAR ’ DRA KE S DRUM THE FIGHTING T EM ERAI R E ADMIRALS ALL SAN STEFAN O HAWKE THE BRIGHT MEDUSA THE OLD SUPERB ’ THE ! UA RTER-GUN NER S YARN NORTHUMBERLAN D FOR A TRAFALGAR CE N OTAPH CRAVE N MESSMATES THE DEATH OF ADMIRAL BLAKE V IE VICTIS x ii C ONTENTS

PAGE MIN ORA SIDERA L AUD AB U NT A LII ADMIRAL DEATH HOMEWA RD BOUND THE KIN G ’ S H IGHWAY A CH A NTY OF THE EMDEN THE SERVICE GILLESPIE SERING A PATAM A BALLA D OF J OH N N ICHOLSON

AT 1 8 THE GUIDES CABUL , 79 THE G AY GORDON S THE TOY BAND A LETTER FROM THE FRONT HE FELL A MON G THIEVES ION ICUS THE N ON -COMB ATA NT THE WA R FILMS ’ ST . GEORGE S DAY HIC J A C ET SACRA MENTUM SUPREMUM l ’ V -C LIFTON CH A PEL

' ‘ TA ! VI I LAMPADA THE V I G I L

T o 1 1 BELGIUM, 9 4 THE SAILIN G OF THE LONG - SHIPS WA GGON H ILL THE VOLUNTEER THE ON LY SON ’ THE GRENADIER S GOOD - BYE THE SCHOOLFELLOW CONTENTS x iii ON SPION KOP THE SCHOOL AT WA R BY THE HEARTH — STONE PEA CE APRIL ON WA GGON HILL THE FOURTH OF AUGUST A B A LLAD OF SIR P E RT A B SINGH COMMEMORATIO N THE ECH O THE BEST SCH OOL OF ALL E NGLA ND VICTORI A REGINA T H E KIN G OF ENGLA ND THE N ILE

S RA HM A N D AZ I

OUTWA RD BOUND HOPE THE HORN BLOWER o P UL C H R IT UD O THE FINAL MYSTERY IL S A NTO IN JULY FROM GENERATION T o GENERATION WHEN I REMEMBER MORS J A NUA RONDEL RONDEL BALADE THE LAST WORD THE VIKIN G ’S SON G THE SUFI IN TH E CITY T o EDWA RD FITZGERALD xiv C O NTENTS YATTENDON DEVON AMON G THE TOMBS GOLD A SOWER THE M O S S R O S E

AV E , SOROR T o A RIVER IN THE SOUTH ON THE DEATH OF A NOBLE LADY MIDWAY AD M AT RE M D O L O R O SAM SN OW- WHITE VRAIS AMANTS THE SANGREAL SIR HUGH THE PALMER THE PRESENTATION THE IN HERITAN CE AMORE ALTIERO THE PEDLAR’ S SON G BENEDICK ’ S SON G LOVE AND C R I E F EGERIA’ S SILENCE TRUE THOMAS C LERK SAUNDERS AGAIN ST OBLIVION FON D COU N SEL YOUTH THE WANDERER THE ADVE NTURERS T o CLARE

! THE R ETURN OF SUMMER : AN ECLOGUE CONTE NTS ! V

DREAM-MARKET SON G OF THE CHILDREN IN P A L A D OR E THE CICALA S AN IDYLL THE FA UN FIDELE ’ S GRASSY TOMB MOONSET A SON G OF E! MOOR MASTER AND M AN GAVOTTE IMO G EN NE L M E z z o DEL CA M Mi N THE INVASION R I L L O BY- RILL P E R E UNT ET I M P UT A NT UR FELI ! ANTON IUS

IRELAND , IRELAND HYMN THE BUILDIN G OF THE TEMPLE EPISTLE AN ESSAY O N CRITICISM LE BYRON DE N OS J OURS N OTES O t e gth d 1v1n e R s r n of oman days , 0 s l rl t th e a e t p of g of fai h , G o W t t e i h our sons on all h ir ways , e e S e ar Wh n w long inc e dust and wraith . PO EM S : N EW AN D O L D

Songs of t be Fleet

Sailing at D awn

b die b d a NE y one the pale stars efore the y now , One by one the great ships are s t irring from

their sleep,

b b a - Ca les all are rum ling, anchors all weigh now, ’ t n d Now the flee s a fleet agai , gli ing towards the deep .

’ N ow ibe le e t s a le e t a a in bou n d u on zbe old wa s f f g , p y , Sple n dou r oftbe p a st come s sbin ing in tbe spray Adm ira ls o old time br in u s on tbe bold wa s f , g y

So u ls o all ibe se a - do s le ad tbe line to— da f g , y

b d a nd d w Far away ehin us town tower are indling, Home b ecomes a fair dream faded long ago

I nfi n ite l th e d y glorious height of heaven is kin ling,

In finit e l t b y desola e the shoreless sea elow .

’ Now tbe e e t s a le e t a a in bou nd u o n zbe old wa s fl f g , p y , Sple n do u r ofzbe p ast come s sbin ing in tbe sp ray Admir als o old tim e br in u s on ibe bold wa s f , g y

Sou ls o all tbe se a -do s le ad tbe line to-da f g , y 2 SAILI N G AT DAWN

d Old Once again with prou hearts we make the surrender,

b e Once again with high hearts serve the age to , d Not for us the warm life of Earth, secure and ten er,

Ours the eternal wandering and warfare of the sea .

’ Now ibe e e t s a e e t a ain bou n d u on tbe old wa s fl fl g , p y , Sple ndou r o/ tbe p ast come s sbin ing in tbe spray Admirals o old time brin u s on tbe bold wa s f , g y ’ Sou ls o all tbe se a-do s le ad tbe line to— ua I f g , y II

’ Tbe Song of t be Sou Wester

d Sk HE sun was lost in a lea en y, And th e shore lay und er our lee ; When a great Sou ’ Wester hurricane high

Cam e rollicking up the sea . He played with the fleet as a bo y with boats

n Till out for the Dow s we ran, ’ And he l au gh d with the roar of a thousand t hroats At th e militant ways of man

Ob I a m tbe e ne m m ost o m i bt y f g , Tbe otbe r be wbo yo u ple ase Gu n n e r a n d u ns m a a ll be ri bt g y g ,

Fla s a - in a nd arm ou r ti bt g fly g g , ’ Bu t I a m tbe fe llow yo u ve first to flgbt Tbe ia nt tbat swin s tbe se as g g .

A dozen Ofmiddies were down below ! h Chasing the t ey love, Whil e the table curtseyed long and slow And a b the l mps were giddy a ove . THE SON G OF THE SOU’ WESTER

Of The lesson was all a ship and a shot,

b tru e And some of it may have een , But the word they heard an d never forgot Was the word of th e wind that blew

Ob I a m tbe e ne m most o mi bt y f g , Tbe otbe r be wbo yo u ple ase Gu n n e r a n d u n s m a all be r i bt g y g ,

Fla s a - in a n d ar m ou r ti bt g fly g g , ’ Bu t I a m tbe fe llow y o u ve first to flgbt Tbe ia nt tbat swin s zbe se as g g .

M t The iddy wi h luck is a Captain soon, With luck he may hear one d ay His own big guns a — humming the tune ’ ’ ” Twas in Trafalgar s Bay . t But wherever he goes , wi h friends or foes, b And whatever may there efall , ’ He ll hear for ever a voice he knows For ever defying them all

Ob I a m tbe e ne m most o mi bt y f g , ‘ I be otbe r be wbo you ple ase Gu n ne r a nd u ns m a all be r i bt g y g ,

Fla s a - in a n d arm ou r ti bt g fly g g , ’ Bu t I a m tbe fe llow you ve first to flgbt b ia nt th at s in s tbe se as 7 e g w g . III

Tbe Middle Wa re /b

N a blue dusk the Ship astern d Uplifts her slen er spars , With golden lights tha t seem to burn

th e Among silver stars . Like flee t s along a cloudy shore t The constella ions creep , Like planets on the ocean floor

vs Our silent course e keep .

An d ove r tbe e n dle ss la in p , Ou t oftbe n igbt forlor n

Rise s a a int r e r a in f f , A song oftbe day to be born

Wa tcb ob w a tcb till e in d a a in , y f g

Li e a n d tbc land o m orn f f .

From a dim West to a dark East

u na e rin d Our lines g hea , As if th e ir mo t ion long had ceased

And t Time i self were dead . T H E MIDDLE WATCH

Vainly we watch the deep below, V n b ai ly the void a ove, They d ied a thousand years ago

Life and the land we love .

Bu t ove r zbe e n dle ss la in p , Ou t oftbe n igbt forlorn Rise s a a int re ra in f f , A song oftbe da y to be born

Watcb ob wa tcb ti ll e n d a a i n , y fi g

Li e a n d ibe lan d o mor n f f .

8 THE LITTLE ADMIRAL

There are queer things that only come to sailo rm e n ’ ’ bu t They re true , they re never understood ; I b d And know one thing a out the A miral, ’ t I t I d Tha can tell rightly as shoul . ’ I ve been with him when hope sank under u s

H e d m d th e har ly see e a mortal like rest,

d t t h ad I coul swear ha he stars upon his uniform , d b And one sleeve pinne across his reast .

Stan d b e tc y, .

’ Some day we re bound to sight the enemy, ’ ’ ’ He s coming, tho he hasn t yet a name . ’ Keel to keel an d gun t o gun he ll chall e nge t d To mee him at the Great Arma a game .

b e e nd None knows what m ay the of it, But we’ll all give our bodies and our souls To see th e litt le Admiral a-playing him A rubb er Ofthe old Long Bowls

Stan d b e tc y, . V

Tbe Song of t lz e Gun s a t Sea

H hear ! Oh hear !

th e t Across sullen ide, Across th e echoing dome horizon -wid e What puls e of fear Beat s with tremendous boom t t Wha call of instan doom ,

t d e t t a nd Wi h thun rs roke of error of pride,

n o t b e d With urgency that may denie , Reverberates upon the heart’s own drum Come l Come ! for thou must come !

0 Come forth, Soul

d a This is thy y of power . This is the d ay a n d this the glorious hour That was th e goal

- Of thy self conquering strife .

The love of child and wife, The fields of Earth and the wide ways of Thought Did not thy purpose count t hem all as nought That in this moment thou thyself mays t give

’ ’ And in thy country s life for ever live i 9 I O TH E SONG OF T HE GUN S AT S E A Therefore rejoice That in thy passionate p rirn e ’ Youth s nobler hope disdained the spoils OfTirn e And thine own choice

- d a Fore earned for thee this y . Rejoice rejoice to ob ey In the great hour of life that men call Death b b t The beat that ids thee draw heroic rea h, Deep -throbbing till thy mortal heart b e dumb Come ' Come ' the t ime is come ! Farewell

t b w d OTHER, wi h un o e head Hear thou across the sea

h ll O fth e d T e farewe ead , d The dead who die for thee . t d Gree them again with tender wor s and grave,

t d s For, saving thee, hemselves they coul not ave .

To keep the house unharmed b Their fathers uilt so fair, Deeming endurance armed t b Bet er than rute despair, d They foun the secret of the word that saith, ” all is Service is sweet, for true life death .

So greet thou well thy dead

Across the homeless sea, And b e thou comforted t Because hey died for thee .

o fft bu t d Far hey served, now their eed is

Fo r evermore their life and thine are one . ’ Oa e o r T D a 1 0 f rafalgar y, 9 5

Partial firing continue d until wh e n a victory h av 1n g be e n

h . e te to t e RI h t H e L V n t N e K . B bl l , r por d g onoura ord iscou son , and ” - - — e in e . V h e t e d e Lo th e i ctory , Command r Chi f, h n i d of his wound g of

O t e 2 1 1 8 0 . c ob r , 5

NGLAND to -day let fire b e in thine eyes And in thy hear t the throb of leaping guns w t h t d Cro n in y stree s the deed that never ies , ’ And t ell their fa thers fame to all thy sons Behold behold on t hat unchanging sea

d a b Where y ehind Trafalgar rises pale, How dread the storm to b e Drifts up with o minous breath Cloud aft er towering cloud of billowy sail d b Full charged with thun er and the olts of death .

d Yet when the noon is past, and thy elight,

M l t d e d ore de ica e for these good hun r years, Has drunk the splendour and the sound of fight

And t t - d the swee s ing of long since vanishe fears, t Then, England , come thou down wi h Sterner lips

b d Of b From the right worl thy su stantial power,

Forget thy seas , thy ships, And that wide echoing dome To watch the soul of man in his dark hour

d Of Re eeming yet his dear lost land home . 1 2 1 0 1 ODE FOR TRAFALGAR DAY, 9 5 3

What place is t his What under-world of pain Al l shadow-barred with glare O fswinging fires What writhing phantoms of the newly slain What cries What t hirst consuming all desires

th e d O fbatt This is fiel le not for life, t Not for the deeper life hat dwells in love, Not for th e savour of s trife

Or the far call of fame, Not for all these the fight all these above ’ t The soul of this man cherished Du y s name .

d h O e His stea fast p from self has turned away, For the Cause only must he s t ill contend How goes the d ay with us How goes th e day

n o t b u t e e nd He craves victory, to mak an .

u 0 t : b u t h Therefore not yet thine ho r, Dea h w en The weapons forged against his country’s peace Lie broken round him— then Give h im the kiss supreme ; Then let th e tumult of his warfare cease

And the last dawn dispel his anguished dream . ’ Tbe H u n d r e a t b Tear

’ D k e e an d e t e , l k N l gh . ra and B a , son s mi y nam

HE stars w ere faint in heaven That saw the Old Year die The dream -white mist O f Devon Shut in the seaward sky : Before the dawn’ s unveiling

I heard three voices hailing, I saw three ships come sailing W ith lanterns gleaming high .

The firs t he cried d e fianc e A full -mouthed voice and bold

b e On God our reliance , Our hope the Spaniard ’s gold ! t b With a s ill , stern am uscado ,

With a roaring escalado , We ’ll sack their Eldorado And storm their dungeon hold

Then slowly spake the second A great sad voice and deep

When all your gold is reckoned, There is bu t this to keep 1 4

’ D r a be s D rum

’ ’ RAKE he s in his hammock an a thou sand mile

away, ’ sle e in i (Capten, art tha p there below ),

th e d t b Ba Slung atween roun sho in Nom re Dios y, ’ ’ ’ m 0 An dreamin arl the ti e Plymouth Hoe .

Ya rn d e r d a—rnd e r lumes the Islan , y lie the ships, ’ ’ ’ Wi i a-d — an - 0 sa lor lads ancin heel t e, ’ ’ ’ ’ - - h An the shore lights flashin , an the night tide das in ,

e t e t He sees arl so plainly as he saw long ago .

’ m an d Drake he was a Devon , an rule the Devon seas, ’ sle e in t b (Capten, art tha p here elow ’ ’ ’ th o t w i Rovin his death fell , he wen heart at ease, ’ ’ ’ d 0 P t An reamin arl the time lymou h Hoe .

d d e t b Take my rum to Englan , hang y the shore, ’ ’ S trike e t when your powder s ru nnin low ’ ’ I ll 0 If the Dons sight Devon , quit the port Heaven , ’ An drum them up the Channel as we drummed them ” long ago .

’ Drake he s in his hammock till the great Armadas come,

, ’ th a sl e e in t b i (Capten, art p here elow ) , ’ t list e nin Slung a ween the round shot for the drum , ’ ’ d i 0 P An reamin arl the t me lymouth Hoe .

1 6 ’ DRAKE S DRUM 1 7

C d d all him on the eep sea, call him up the Soun , Call h im when ye sail to meet the foe ; ’ ’ ’ ’ Where the Old trade s plyin an the Old flag flyin ’ ’ o They shall find him ware an wakin , as they f und

long ! ago ' ’ Tbe Fig / Ming Te rn e r a ir e

b i T was eight ells r nging, w d For the morni ng atch was one, And the gunner ’s lads were singing

o li h v r As they p s e d e e y gun . ‘ Wa s b It eight ells ringing, ’ And the gunner s lads were singing, For the ship she rode a—swinging

AS they polished every gun .

Ob to se e tbe linstocle li btin g g, ‘ ' ' ' I éme r a ire Te me r a ire

Ob to be a r tbe ro u nd sbat bitin g,

' Teme ra ire Téméra ire

Ob to se e ibe lin stoc/e li btin g g,

And to be a r tbe r ou nd sbot bitin g,

’ For we r e all in love witb figbting

b b n Téméra ire On t e Fig ti g .

n It was noontide ri ging, b b And the attle just egun, When the Ship her way was winging

a AS they lo ded every gun . 1 8 THE FIGHTI NG T EM ERAI RE I 9

d It was noonti e ringing,

When the Ship her way was winging, ’ And S the gunner ! s lads were inging

As they loaded every gun .

’ Tbe re ll be ma n rim a nd or y g g y,

' Teme ra ire Téméra ire

’ Ybe re ll be e w to te ll tbe stor f y,

' Téme r a ire Témér a ir e

’ Tbe re ll be m an rim a n d or y g g y, ’ Tbe re ll be e w to te ll tbe stor f y, ’ Bu t we ll a ll be on e in glory

Witb tbe btin Téméra ir fig g e .

There’s a far b ell ringing

th e At the setting of sun , And a phantom voice is singing

Of the great days done . ’ b There s a far ell ringing, And a phantom voice is singing Of renown for ever clinging

To the great days done .

No w ibe su nse t bre e z e s sbive r ,

’ ' Te méra ire Téme ra ire

’ And sbe s a din down ibe rive r f g , ' Teme r a ire Téméra ire

Now tbe su nse t bre e z e s sbive r , ’ An d sbe s a din down tbe rive r f g , ’ Bu t in England s song for e ve r ’ ' ' Sbe s tbe Fi btin e me ra ire g g . Adm irals All

I M v FF NGHA , Gren ille, Raleigh, Drake, Here ’s to the bold and free ! b Ben ow, Collingwood , Byron , Blake, Hail to the Kings of the Sea ’ Admirals all, for England s sake, Honour b e yours and fame b And honour, as long as waves Shall reak, To Nelson’s peerless name

’ Admirals a ll or En la nd s sa k e , f g , H on ou r be you rs a nd fa me An d bon o u r as lon as wa ve s sball bre ak , g , ’ 7 0 N e lson s p e e rle ss n a me

Essex was fretting in Cadiz Bay With the galleons fair in sight ;

h im w a Howard at last must give his y,

And the word was passed to fight . b Never was school oy gayer than he, Since holidays first b egan b He tossed his onnet to wind and sea, d And un er the guns he ran .

2 0 ADMIRALS A L L 2 1

n o r t S a nia rd Drake nor devil p feared , Their cities he put to the sack ’ d M t b He singe his Catholic aj es y s eard ,

And d harrie his ships to wrack . He was playing at Plymouth a rubber of bowls When the great Armad a came d But he sai , They must wait their turn, good d And he stoope , and finished the game .

n Fifteen sail were the Dutchme bold, Duncan he had b u t two But h e anchored them fast where the Texe l shoaled

And his colours aloft he flew . ! ’ ” I ve d taken the depth to a fathom , he crie , ! ’ And d I ll Sink with a right goo will, ’ d d For I know when we re all of us un er the ti e , ” M b e i y flag will fluttering St ll .

b b Splinters were flying a ove, elow, When Nelson sailed the Sound ’ M I d b e ark you , woul n t elsewhere now, ! d d Said he , for a thousan poun ’ b d The Admiral s signal a e him fly, h But he wickedly wagged his ead , He clapped the glass to his sightless eye I ’m d I ” And amned if see it, he said .

d d A mirals all, they sai their say

(The echoes are ringing still),

n t Admirals all, they we t heir way th To e haven under the hill . 2 2 ADMIRALS A L L

But they left us a kingdom none can take,

Of n The realm the circli g sea, To b e ruled by th e rightful sons of Blake

And the Rodneys yet to be .

’ Admirals all or En land s sake , f g , Hon ou r be you rs an d fa me And bonou r as lon as wave s sball bre ak , g , ’ To Ne lson s p e e rle ss n a me l

24 SA N STEFAN O

a b She was nearer, nearer, nearer, they were c ught eyond b t a dou , b But they slipped her, into Or etello Bay, And the lubb ers gave a shout as they paid their cables

o u t ,

n l a With the guns grinni g round them where they y .

No w w as a Sir Peter captain of a famous fighting race, Son and grandson of an admiral was he ;

And he looked upon the batteries , he looked upon the

chase ,

And he heard the Shout that echoed out to sea . A And he called across the decks , y the cheering might be late If they kept it till the M e ne la u s runs Bid the master and his mate heave the lead and lay her straight

For the prize lying yonder by the guns .

n When the summer moon was setting, i to Orbetello Bay Came the M e ne la u s gliding like a ghost b And her oats were manned in silence, and in silence d pulle away,

And in silence every gunner took his post . b d With a volley from her roa side the citadel she woke, And they hammered back like heroes all the night ; But b efo re the morning b roke she had vanished through t h e smoke t With her prize upon her quarter grappled ight . SAN STEFAN O 2 5

i ’ It was even ng at St . Helen s , in the great and gallant

time, And the Sky beh ind the down was flushing far ;

a -fl u tte r b And the flags were all , and the ells were all

a- chime,

Off b ar When the frigate cast her anchor the . ’ h She d a right fig ting company, three hundred men and

more, Nine and forty guns in tackle running free ; And they cheered her from the shore for her colours at

the fore,

b M e ne lau s When the old came from sea .

’ Sbe d a ri bt btin com an tbre e bu ndre d me n a nd m ore g fig g p y, , Nin e a n d forty gu n s in ta ckle r u nning fre e An d ibe cbe e re d be r r om tbe sbore or be r colo u rs at tbc ore y f f f , Wb n tbc bold M ca me rom se a e enelaus f . Hawke

N seventeen hundred and fifty nine,

a When Hawke c me swooping from the West , ’ O f The French King s Admiral with twenty the line,

u s . Was sailing forth, to sack , out of Brest The ports of France were crowded,the quays of France

a -h u m

With thirty thousand soldiers marching to the drum , For bragging time was over and fighting time was come

When Hawke came swooping from the West .

’ Twas long past noon Ofa wild Novemb er day When Hawke came swooping from the West ;

b n in b Ba He heard the reakers thunderi g ! ui eron y, b b But he flew the flag for attle , line a reast . Down upon the quicksands roarin g out of sight

- Fiercely beat the storm wind , darkly fell the night, ’ But they took the foe for pilot and the cannon s glare fo r light

When Hawke cam e Swooping from the West .

The Frenchmen turned like a covey down the win d When Hawke came swooping from the West i d One he sank with all hands, one he caught and p nne ,

And the shallows and the storm took the rest .

2 6 HAWKE 2 7 The guns that sh ould have conquered us they rusted on

the shore , The men that would have mastered us they drummed d and marche no more ,

a nd b b For England was England , a mighty rood she ore

n When Hawke came swoopi g from the West . T/z e Br ig bt Med usa

( 1 807)

’ d b e HE S the aughter of the reez , ’ h Of S e s the darling the seas,

And M e du — sa we call her, if you please, the bright From benea th her bosom b are To the snakes among her hair ’ ’ 0 M e du sa She s a flash golden light, the bright .

When the ensign dips above

And the guns are all for love , ’ M e du — sa She s as gentle as a dove , the bright But when the Shot’s in rack

And h e r forestay flies the Jack, ’ He s a merry man would slight the bright M e du

When she got the word t o go M t V d Up to on e i eo ,

M e du - sa There she found the river low, the bright So she tumbled out her guns d And a hun red of her sons,

h b h M e du — sa And S e taught the Dons to fight the rig t .

2 8 T HE BRIGHT MEDUSA 29

When the foeman can b e found d With the pluck to cross her groun , d b First she walks him round and roun , the right

M e du — sa

Then sh e rakes him fore and aft ’ t Till he s jus a jolly raft,

Sh e b k b M e du sa And gra s him like a ite, the right .

’ b She s the daughter of the reeze, ’ She s the darling of the seas, ’ And th e M e du — sa you ll call her, if you please , bright ’ For till England s sun b e set ’ And it s no t for se t t ing yet

b b b M e du - sa She shall ear her name y right, the right . T/z e Old Superb

w as w as HE wind rising easterly, the morning sky b lue , The Straits before us opened wide and free ; l We ooked towards the Admiral, where high the Peter

flew,

And all our hearts were dancing like the sea . The French are gone to Martinique with four-and twenty sail

Su e rb The Old p is old and foul and slow, ’ M n But the French are gone to arti ique, and Nelson s on

the trail , And where he goes the Old Su p e rb must go

So We stwa rd bo ’ or Tr nida d a n d Eastward bo ’ or i . . f f

S a in p , An d Sbip a boy a bu ndre d time s a day

Rou n d tbc world i ne e d be a nd ro u n d tbe world a a in f , g , Witb a la me du ck lagging all tbe way

Su e rb b The Old p was arnacled and green as grass below, Her sticks were only fit for stirring grog d The pri e of all her midshipmen was Silent long ago, th And long ago they ceased to heave e log .

30

’ l e ! uarter— Gunner s Tarn

’ and E lay at St . Helen s , easy she rode With one anchor catted and fresh—water stowed

b a b When the arge came longside like ullocks we roared ,

ab For we knew what we carried with Nelson oard .

Our Captain was Hardy, the pride of us all, I ’ll ask for none better when danger Shall call

d b a b He was har y y nature and H rdy y name ,

s b And oon y his conduct to honour he came .

w as The third day the Lizard under our lee,

A ax Tbu n de re r Where the j and joined us at sea, t But what with foul wea her and tacking about,

h r W en we sighted the Fleet we were thi teen days out .

b The Captains they all came a oard quick enough, But the news that they brought was as heavy as duff b So ackward an enemy never was seen, C M They were harder to com e at than heeks the arine .

’ bb s The lu ers had hare s lugs where eamen have ears ,

O S we stowed all saluting and smothered our cheers , And to humour their stomachs and tempt them to din e In the offing we showed them but six Ofthe line

32 ’ THE ! UARTE R -GUN NER S YARN 33 One morning the topmen reported below

ld A a me mn on d The O g escape from the foe . ’ M d t Says Nelson y la s , here ll be honour for some, ’ ” Of b For we re sure a attle now Berry has come .

Up hammocks at last cried the bo ’sun at dawn The guns were cast loose and the tompions drawn

b th e The gunner was ustling shot racks to fill, All And hands to quarters was piped with a will .

b We now saw the enemy earing ahead ,

t Tr afl a a r d And to Eas of them Cape g it was sai , ’ b t Tis a name we remem er from fa her to son,

t h e d Old b e d That ays of England may never one .

Victor l e d du e The y , to her flag it was , ’ ’ Tho the Téme r aire s thou ght t hemselves Admirals too But Lord Nelson he hailed them with masterful grace ’ I ’ll ’ Cap n Harvey, thank you to keep in your place .

b d Bu ce n ta u re To egin with we close the alone,

’ An eighty - gun ship a nd th e ir Admiral s own ;

d bu t and t h e Of We rake her once, rest the day

Sh e la Like a hospital hulk on the water y .

b t h e Re do u table To our attering next struck, But her sharpshooters gave us the worst of th e luck d Lord Nelson was woun ed , most cruel to tell . ’ ! ” They ve done for me, Hardy he cried as he fell . 4 ’ 34 THE ! UARTER — GU N NER S YARN

To the cockpit in silence they carried him past, And sad were the looks that were after him cast ;

His face with a kerchief he tried to conceal ,

But we knew him too well from the truck to the keel .

When the Captain reported a Victory won, m ’ I . Thank God he kept saying, y duty I ve done

— At last came the moment to kiss him good bye,

in e And the Captain for once had the salt his ye .

” Now anchor, dear Hardy, the Admiral cried b But efore we could make it he fainted and died .

All night in the trough of the sea we were tossed ,

- And for want of ground tackle good prizes were lost .

Then we hauled down the flag, at the fore it was red , And blue at the mizzen was hoisted instead ’ d By Nelson s famed Captain, the pri e of each tar,

c Trafl a ar Who fought in th e Vi tory Off Cape g . ’ N or tlz u m be r la n a

T h e Old and Bold . HEN England sets her b anner b And ids her armour shine , ’ She ll not forget the famous North, The lads of moor an d Tyne ’ And n - when the lovi g cup s in hand,

And e Honour l ads the cry, They know not Old Nor thumb erland ’ b Who ll pass her memory y .

When Nelson sailed for Trafalgar ’ b With all his country s est,

t c b He held hem lear as rothers are, b But on e eyond the rest . For when the fleet with heroes m anned

th e d b To clear ecks egan, The boast of Old Northumberland

He sent to lead the van .

’ Himself by Victory s bulw arks stood And cheered to see th e sight b That no le fellow Collingwood, How b old he goes to fight ! ” 35 N ORTHUMBERLAND

Love, that the league of Ocean spanned , Heard him as face to face ;

a t b Wh would he give, Northum erland , To share our pride of place i’

The flag that goes the world around And flaps on every breeze Has never gladdened fairer ground

'

Or kinder hearts than these . ’ SO when the loving-cup s in hand

And Honour leads the cry, They know not Old Northum berland ’ Who ll pass her memory by . For a Trafalgar Ce n ot ap /z

V d O ER of England , stan awhile and gaze

With thankful heart, and lips refrained praise ; They rest b e yOn d t h e speech O fhuman prid e d d Who serve with Nelson and with Nelson ied . Craven

M BAY 1 86 ( OBILE , 4)

VER h is - the turret, shut in iron clad tower, Craven was conning his Ship through smoke flame b Gun to gun he had attered the fort for an hour,

th e Now was time for a charge to end the game .

a im There lay the n rrowing channel , smooth and gr , d b it A hundre deaths eneath , and never a Sign ; ’ i There lay the enemy s ships, and sink or sw m

e The flag was flying, and he was head of the lin .

The fleet b ehind was j amming ; the monitor hung

th e a Beating the stream ro r for a moment hushed . Craven spoke to the pilot slow she swung ;

Again he spoke, and right for the foe she rushed .

Into the narrowing channel, between the shore And the sunk torpedoes lying in treacherous rank ;

bu t ffl She turned a yard too short ; a mu ed roar,

A mountainous wave, and she rolled , righted , and sank . 38

Me ssm a t e s

E gave us all a good — by e cheerily At the first dawn of day ; We dropped him down the side full drearily

When the light died away . ’ ’ a- It s a dead dark watch that he s keeping there ,

a - t And a long, long night that lags creeping here, Where the Trades and the t ides roll over him b And the great ships go y .

He’s there alone with green seas rocking h im For a thousand miles round ; ’ b He s there alone with dum things mocking him , ’ And we re homeward bound . ’ ’ a - It s a long, lone watch that he s keeping there,

a - t And a dead cold night that lags creeping here, Whil e the months and the years 1 011 over h i m b And the great ships go y .

I wonder if the tramps come near enough

a nd As they thrash to fro , ’ And the b att le- ships b ells ring clear enough To be heard down b elow ;

4 0 MESSMATES 4 1

’ t a - If through all the lone wa ch that he s keeping there,

d t a- t And the long, col night hat lags creeping here, The voices of the sailor-men shall comfort him b When the great Ships go y . Tbe D e a t/z of Admiral Blake

T H 1 6 (AUGUST 7 , 57)

fi ADEN with spoil of the South, ful lled with the

glory of achievement,

- And freshly crowned with never dying fame , Sweeping by shores where the names are the names of d the victories of Englan ,

Across the Bay the squadron homeward came .

bu t Proudly they came, their pride was the pomp of a

funeral at midnight, When dreader yet the lonely morrow looms

Few are the words that are spoken, and faces are gaunt b eneath the torchlight

That does but darken more the nodding plumes .

Low on the field of his fame, past hope lay the Admiral

triumphant, And fain to rest him after all his pain

Ye t b a for the love that he ore to his own l nd , ever

unforgotten ,

n He prayed to see the western hills agai . 4 2 T H E DEATH O F ADMI RAL BLAKE Fainter than stars in a sky long gray with the coming of b the day reak,

d d n Or soun s of night that fa e when ight is done, SO in the death-dawn faded the splendour a nd loud

renown of warfare,

bu t And life of all its longings kept one .

Oh to be there for an hour when the shade draws in d beside the he gerows, And falling apples wake the dro w sv noon Oh ! for the hou r when the elms grow sombre and

human in the twilight,

And gardens dream beneath the rising moon .

Only to look once more on the land of the memories d of chil hood , Forgett ing weary winds and barren foam Only to bid farewell to the comb e and th e orchard and

the moorland , And sleep at last among the fields of home

SO t he was silen ly praying, till now, when his strength bb was e ing faster, The Lizard lay b e fore them faintly blue Now on the gleaming horizon the white cliffs laughed t - along the coas line,

nd th k A now e forelands to o the Shapes they knew , T HE O F 44, DEATH ADMIRAL BLAKE

There lay the Sound and the I sland with green leaves b down eside the water,

n fire d The tow , the Hoe , the masts with sunset

! a Dreams y, dreams of the dead for the great heart d faltered on the threshol ,

n l And dark ess took the and his soul desired . Vee Vic tis

E SIDE the placid sea t hat mirrored her

Old t With the glory of dawn hat cannot die,

t b a n d t The sleeping ci y egan to moan s ir, As one that fain from an ill dr e am would fly Yet more Sh e feared the daylight bringing nigh

Such dreams as know not sunrise, soon or late, b Visions of honour lost and power gone y , b t d b Of loyal valour e raye y factious hate, And craven sloth that shrank from the labour of forging

fate .

b They knew and knew not, this ewildered crowd a t d Th t up her stree s in silence hurrying passe , d t d What manner of ea h shoul make their anguish loud,

b e What corpse across the funeral pyre cast, t For none had spoken it ; only, ga hering fast ’ n th e As darkness gathers at noo in sun s eclipse , Ofd f d t a nd A shadow oom en ol ed hem , vague vast,

And d t d th a cry was hear , unfa here of ear ly lips, 0 ! C What of the ships, Carthage arthage, what of the ships 3 46 V IE VICTIS

They reached the wall , and nowise strange it seemed To find the gates unguarded and open wide ; b They clim ed the shoulder, and meet enough they deemed The black that Shrouded the seaward rampart ’s side ’ And veiled in drooping gloom the turrets pride ;

But this was nought, for suddenly down the slope m They saw the harbour, and sense within the died

Keel nor mast was there, rudder nor rope ’ la - i It y like a sea hawk s eyry spo led of life and hope .

Beyond, where dawn was a glittering carpet, rolled

From sky to shore on level and endless seas, Hardly their eyes discerned in a d azzle of gold

That here in fifties , yonder in twos and threes,

The ships they sought, like a swarm of drowning b ees -d am By a wanton gust on the pool of a mill hurled,

lo a t e d n - d b F forsake of life giving ti e and reeze, b Their oars roken, their sails for ever furled, For ever deser t ed the bulwarks that guarded the wealth

of the world .

e t A moment y , with breathing quickly drawn

d a ri And han s g p , the Carthaginian folk

d b b n Stare in the right untrou led face of daw , And strove with vehement heaped denial to choke ’ Their sure surmise of fate s impending stroke ;

M in or a Sidera

(THE DICTION A RY OF NATIONAL BIOGRAPHY)

ITTING at times over a hearth that burns t Wi h dull domestic glow, t My though , leaving the book, gratefully turns

To you who planned it so .

' No t o fthe great only yo u deigned to tell The stars by which we steer

But lights out of the night that flashed, and fell

- To night again, are here .

t d a Such as were hose, dogs of an elder y, d Who sacked the gol en ports , And those la ter who dared grapple their prey Beneath the harbour forts

t i Some wi h flag at the fore, sweep ng the world t To find an equal figh ,

And some who joined war to their trade, and hurled t Ships of the line in fligh .

4 8 MI N O RA SIDE RA Whether their fame centuries long should ring

- They cared not Over much,

d Go d But care greatly to serve and the king, And keep the Nelson touch

And fought to build Britain above the tide Of wars and windy fate ; t And passed conten , leaving to us the pride

Of lives obscurely great . L a u da bu n t Alii

(AFTER HORACE)

t ET o hers praise , as fancy wills, b Berlin eneath her trees ,

se V e n Or Rome upon her hills, Or Venice by her seas t b b d b b S am oul y ou le tides em raced ,

Or green Damascus in the waste .

’ For me there s nought I would no t leave

For the good Devon land, Whose orchards down the echoing cleeve

d - Bedewe with spray drift stand , And hardly b ear t h e red fruit up ’ b e x - That shall ne t year s cider cup .

m a You too , my friend , y wisely mark

How clear skies follow rain, And lingering in your own green park ’ d L atfan s P Or rilled on lain, Forget n o t with the fest al bowl

To soothe at times your weary soul .

so LAUD AB U NT ALII

Wh en Drake must bid t o Plymouth Hoe

d-b e d a Goo y for many a y ,

sad t d And some were hat feare to go ,

And some that dared not stay,

' Be sure he b a d e th e m broach the best

a d And r ise his tankard with the rest .

Drake ’s luck to all that sail with Drake For promised lands of gold b Brave lads , whatever Storms may reak, ’ We ve wea t hered worse of old ’ - - To night the loving cup we ll drain, - M | 7 , To morrow for the Spanish ain o Admiral D e a t/z

n - OYS , are ye calli g a toast to night (Hear what the sea -wind saith) b b Fill for a umper strong and right, And here ’s to Admiral Death ! ’ d b d ’ He s sailed in a hun red uil s o boat, ’ ’ 0 He s fought in a thousand kinds coat, ’ t h e He s senior flag of all that float, And his name ’s Admiral Death !

Which of yo u looks for a service free (Hear what the sea- wind saith) ’ The rules 0 the Service are bu t three

When ye sail with Admiral Death . ’ m 0 Steady your hand in ti e squalls,

Stand to the last by him that falls,

s And answer clear to the Voice that call ,

A a Y, y Admiral Death

How will ye know him among the rest I (Hear what th e sea-wind saith) By the glint o ’ the stars that cover his breast d Ye m ay find A miral Death .

5 2 ADMIRAL DEATH 5 3

d t By the forehea grim wi h an ancient scar, t d By the voice that rolls like hun er far, t t t By the tenderes eyes of all ha are,

Ye may know Admiral Death .

Where are the lads that sail e d before (Hear what the sea-wind saith) b t b Their ones are whi e y many a shore, t d They sleep wi h A miral Death .

! b u t d a nd Old Oh they love him , young ,

t th e a nd t b d For he lef laggard , ook the ol , ’ th e an d And fight was fought, the story s

n d d A they sleep with A miral Death . Hom eward Bound

b FTER long la ouring in the windy ways, On smooth and shining tides

Swiftly the great ship glides , t t Her s orms forgo , her weary watches past ; t d Nor hward she gli es, and through the enchanted

Faint on the verge her far hope dawns at last .

- The phantom sky line of a Shadowy down, Whose pale white cliffs below Through sunny mist aglow Like noon -day ghosts of summer moonshine gleam

So t o ld b Old f as sorrow, right as renown ,

th e m e o u r m m There lies ho of all ortal drea .

THE KI N G ’ S HIGHWAY

SO long as the sea -wind blows unbound

And - b in the sea wave reaks spray, ’ For th e Island s sons the word s t ill runs ’ ! ” The King, and the King s Highway A Cba n ty of tbe E mden

HE captain of the Em de n d He Sprea his wireless net , And told th e honest Brit ish t ramp Where raiders might b e met

d b e Where rai ers might met , my lads,

th e And where coast was clear, And t here he sa t like a crafty cat And sang while they drew near t Now you come along wi h me, sirs , You come along with me ’ ’ Old d You ve had your run, Englan s done ’ And it s time yo u were home from sea

The seamen of old England b t They dou ted his inten , b And when he hailed, A andon ship They asked him what he meant

They asked him what he meant , my lads,

and The pirate his crew, ! But he said , Stand by your ship must And it’s luck you don’t die too

5 7 A CHANTY OF T H E EMDE N

t So you come along wi h me, sirs, You come along with me

no w We find our fun yours is done, And it’s time you were home from sea

He took her, tramp or trader,

He sank her like a rock, He stole h e r coal and sent her down ’ To Davy s deep -sea dock ’ - m To Davy s deep sea dock, y lads, The finest craft afloat And as she went he still would sing From the deck of his damned Old boat

Now you come along with me, sirs, You come along with me : ’ Your good ship s done with wind and sun, ’ And it s tirn e you were home from sea !

The captain of the Sydne y He got the word by chance

Says he , By all the Southern Stars , We’ll make the pirates dance ’ d We ll make the pirates ance, my lads, d That this mad work have ma e , For no man knows how a hornpipe go e s ’ Un t il the music s played .

sit s So you come along with me, ,

! You com e along with m e ’ ’ bb e The game s not won till the ru er s don , ’ And it s tirn e to be hom e from se a A CHANTY OF THE EMDE N 5 9

The Sydne y and the Emde n

a nd They went it Shovel tongs ,

Emde n The had her rights to prove, Th e Sydne y had her wrongs

S dn e h ad The y y her wrongs , my lads, And a crew of South Sea blues ;

Their hearts were hot, and as they shot They sang like kangaroos

Now you come along with me , Sirs , You come along with me ’ h ad d You ve your fun, you rud y old Hun , And it ’s time you were home from sea

S dne The y y she was straddled,

Bu t Emde n Sh e d the was strafe ,

They knocked her guns and funnels out, They fired her fore and aft

fire d h e r a They fore and aft, my l ds, And While the beggar burned h T ey salved her crew to a tune they knew, But never had rightly learned

o u Now y come along with me, sirs, You come along with me ’ ’ We ll find you fun till the figh ting s done ’ And the pirate s o ff the sea ’ Till tbe ira te s o tbc se a m la ds p f , y , ’ Till tbe pir a te s ofl tbe se a ’ ’ We ll fin d ike m fu n till tbc figbting s done ’ And tbe pira te s ofl tbc se a Tbe Service

HE BRITI SH NAVY— all our years have been

t th e d S rong in pri e of it , secure, serene . b But who , remem ering wars of long ago , Knew what t o our Sea -walls we yet sh ou ld owe Who thought to see t h e hand Ofshameless shame

t d afl am e : Wi h scraps of paper set the worl , Barb arian hordes upon a neighbouring coast b b Rape , massacre, enslave, laspheme and oast ,

And t savage mons ers, lurking under sea , Murder th e wives a n d children of the free i If in this b a tt le with a power accurst

and We have risked all yet escaped the worst, Thanks b e to t hose who gave us ships a n d guns When generous folly still would trust in Huns Thanks b e to those who trained upon the deep The valour and the Skill that never sleep ; Thanks above all to those who fight our fight ’ ’ For Britain s honour and for all men s right .

And now away away put o ffwith me From this dear island to the Open sea Enter those floating ramparts on the foam Where exiled seamen guard their long- lost home Enter and ask— except of child or wife h Ask the w ole secret of their ordered life .

60 T HE SERVICE 61

t d d Their wisdom has hree wor s , unwrit, untol But handed down from heart to heart of o ld The first is this while ships are ships the aim

b d th e Of every man a oar is still same . ’ d t - a On lan there s some hing men self interest c ll ,

b all Here each must save himself y saving . ’ Your danger s mine : who thinks to stand aside ’ When the Sh ip s buffeted by wind a nd tid e i

to o If she goes down , we know that we go

h bu t e t t . Not just wa ch on deck, all the crew Mark now what follows— no half-willing work i d d From m n s divi ed or from hands that Shirk, d But that one perfect free om, that content

Which comes of force for something greater spent, l And welds us all, from conning tower to kee ,

In one great fellowship of tempered steel .

The th ir d is like to these — there is no peace

- d In the sea life, our warfare oes not cease . The great emergency in which we strain

t an d Wi h all our force, our passion our pain,

n n t Is no mere tra sie t fight wi h hostile kings, But mor t al war against im mor t al t hings

and t t Danger Dea h hemselves , whose end shall

t i and When here s no more wind no more sea .

Wh at of this sea-born wisdom Is it not Trut h that on land we have too long forgot ’ While this great ship the Commonweal th s afloat

no t b Are we seamen all , and in one oat 62 THE SERVICE

t Have we not all one freedom , los and found When to one service body and soul are bound

And is not life itself, if seen aright,

A great emergency, an endless fight ’ s th e e For all men native land , and worth pric Of all men ’s service and their sacrifice

! - Ah had we that sea wisdom , could we steer B y those same stars for even half the y ear,

How plain would seem , as viewed from armoured decks , The problems that our longshore hearts perplex ! d Less than his uttermost then none woul give , M ore than his just reward would none receive,

NO nor desire it, for to feast or hoard

t a b While the nex table shows hungry oard , Whatever mod ern l andm ad e laws may say ’ Is not the custom of Trafalgar s B ay .

The Brotherhood , the Service , Life at War, b These are the onds that hold where heroes are,

These only make the men who weary not,

- The men who fall rejoicing, self forgot .

Come b ack to that unfading afternoon Where Jutland echoes to the First of June ’ And Bea t ty raging with a lion s might

Roars out his heart to keep the foe from flight . The Grand Fleet comes at last the day is ours Mile beyond mile the line maj estic towers The b attle bends : Hood takes the foremost place

With the grand manner of his famous race ,

d IDING at dawn, ri ing alone, l

' ‘ Gillespie left the t o w n b e h in d ; Before he turned by the Westward road h im b A horseman crossed , staggering lind .

’ The Devil s abroad in false Vellore, b b ” The Devil that sta s y night , he said, h d Women and c il ren, rank and file, ” Dying and dead , dying and dead .

Without a word , without a groan, d Sud en and swift Gillespie turned , b The lood roared in his ears like fire, h im Like fire the road beneath burned .

He thundered back to Arcot gate,

He thundered up through Arcot town, Before he thought a second thought

b h e In the arrack yard lighted down .

n Trumpeter, sou d for the Light Dragoons, d d Soun to saddle and spur, he sai ; d He that is ready may ri e with me, ” And he that can may ride ahead .

64 GILLESPIE

Fierce and fain, fierce and fain,

th e Behind him went troopers grim ,

d Dfa o o n s They ro e as ride the Light g , d But never a man could ri e with him .

i ’ The r rowels ripped their horses sides,

re d d Their hearts were with a eeper goad, Bu t ever alone b efore them all

Gillespie rode, Gillespie rode .

A V lone he came to false ellore , b The walls were lined , the gates were arred

l d th e b l bit A one he walke where ul ets , ’ And d b calle a ove to the Serg eant s Guard .

n Sergeant , Sergea t, over the gate, Where are your officers all i he said ’ Heavily came the Sergeant s voice,

e t Ther are two living and for y dead .

” e d A rop , a rope, Gillespie crie They bound th e ir b elts to serve his need ; There was not a reb e l behind th e wall d b b But lai his arrel and drew his ead .

There was not a rebel among them all

u and aim But p lled his trigger cursed his , For lightly swung an d rightly swung

Over the gate Gillespie came . 66 G ILLESPIE

l e d He dressed the line , he the charge,

They swept the wall like a stream in spate, And roaring over the roar they heard b The galloper guns that urst the gate .

n Fierce and fai , fierce and fain , The troopers rode the re e king flight The very stones rememb er s t ill

e nd b b The of them that sta y night .

’ They ve kept the tale a hundred years, They’ll keep the tale a hundred more

Riding at dawn, riding alone , V Gillespie came to false ellore . Seringapa tam

HE Sleep that Tip p o o Sahib sleeps Heeds not the cry of man The faith t hat Tipp oo Sahib keeps NO judge on ear th may scan ; He is th e lord of wh om ye hold

t an d a nd b Spiri sense lim , Fett er and ch ain are all ye gain

t o d Who dared plea with him .

d b a nd Bair was onny Baird was young,

t n His heart was s ro g as Steel,

a n d t b But life dea h in the alance hung, d For his woun s were ill to heal . Of fifty chains the Sul t an gave We have filled bu t for ty-nine We dare not fail of th e perfect t ale ’ ” For all Golconda s mine .

That was the hour when Lucas first Leapt to his long renown b Like summer rains his anger urst, d n An swept their scruples dow .

67 68 SERI N G A PAT AM

Tell ye the lord to whom ye crouch, His fetters bite their fill : ’ b h To save your oath I ll wear them ot , l i ” And step the ighter st ll .

The seasons came, the seasons passed, They watched their fellows die ;

Bu t t t s ill heir thought was forward cast, t Their courage s ill was high . Through tortured days and fevered nights

e b w Th ir lim s alone ere weak,

And b t t h year y year hey kep t eir cheer,

And spoke as freemen speak .

But once a year, on the fourth of June,

e Their spe ch to silence died , And th e Silence beat to a soundless tune And sang with a wordl e ss pride d b Till when the In ian stars were right, b i And ells at home would r ng, ’ To th e fett ers clan k they rose and drank England ! God save the King !

The years cam e, and the years went, The wheel full - circle rolled ; ’ b The tyrant s neck must yet be ent, The price of blood b e told The city y e t must hear the roar ’ i Of Baird s aveng ng guns , And see h im stand with lifted hand ’ b n By Tipp o o Sahi s so s . SERI NGAPATAM

b d n The lads were onny, the la s were you g, But h e claimed a pitiless d ebt ;

and th e b Life death in alance hung,

d it n an d They watche swi g set .

e h im t b Th y saw search wi h som re eyes, They knew the place he sought

e t They saw him f el for the hil ed steel, b b They owed efore his thought .

But h e — h e saw the prison there

In the old quivering heat, Where merry hearts had m e t despair And died without defeat ; Wh ere feeble hands h ad raised the cup b For fee ler lips to drain , And one h ad worn with smiling scorn b d His dou le loa of pain .

The sleep that Tipp o o Sahib sleeps Hears not the voice of man The faith that Tipp o o Sahib keeps NO earthly judge may scan For all the wrong your fat her wrought ’ Your father s sons are free ; Where Lucas lay no to n gue shall say t M b Tha ercy ound not me . A Ballad of jobn N ic /z olson

Mu T fell in the year of tiny,

At darkest of the night,

b an John Nicholson y Jal dhar came,

w a On his y to Delhi fight .

And as he by Jalandhar came

He thought what he must do ,

And he sent to the Rajah fair greeting,

To try if he were true .

God grant your Highness length of days , And friends when need shall b e ;

And I pray you send your Captains hither, ” t That they may speak wi h me .

On th e morrow through Jalandhar town The Captains rode in stat e ; They came to the house of John Nicholson

And stood before the gate .

M b The chief of them was ehta Singh, He was bo th proud and sly ; b b His tur an gleamed with ru ies red ,

u He held h is chin f ll high . 7°

72 A BALLAD OF J OH N N ICHOLSO N

M h You are overhasty, ehtab Sing ,

When that the rest are gone , I have a word that may not wait ” a o u To spe k with y alone .

The Capt ains passed in silence forth And stood the door behind ; To go b efore the game was played

h ad n Be sure they no mi d .

But there within John Nicholso n M b Turned him on ehta Singh, So long as the soul is in my body

h n You shall not do this t i g .

Have ye served us fo r a hundred years And yet ye know not why i

We b b rook no dou t of our mastery, i We rule unt l we die .

Were I the one l ast Englishman b Drawing the reath of life, And you the master-reb el of all That stir this land to strife

” Were I , he said , but a Corporal ,

An d you a Rajput King, So long as the soul was in my body

You should not do this thing . A BALLAD O F J OH N N ICHOLSO N 73

o ff Take off, take those shoes of pride, Carry them whence t hey came Your Captains saw your insolence ” And they shall see your shame .

When Mehtab Singh came t o the door b d His shoes they urned his han , For there in long and silent lines

He saw the Captains stand .

When Mehtab Singh rode from the gate His chin was on his breast t d W The Cap ains sai , hen the strong comm and Obedience is bee n Tbe Guides a t Cabul

( 1 879)

ONS of the Island Race, wherever ye dwell ,

i ’ Who speak of your fathers b attl e s w ith lips that

burn,

The deed of an alien legion hear me tell , t And think not shame from the hear s ye tamed to learn ,

and th e d When succour Shall fail ti e for a season turn,

t a To fight wi h a joyful courage , a passion te pride, d b To die at the last as the Gui es at Ca ul died .

d b For a han ful of seventy men in a arrack of mud , d d b Foodless, waterless, win ling one y one , Answered a thousand yelling for English blood

e t e With stormy voll ys hat sw pt them gunner from gun,

And in charge on charge the glare of the Afghan sun , Till the walls were shattered wherein they crouched at

b a y , d l a And ead or dying half of the seventy y .

Twice they had taken the cannon that wrecked their hold,

w t d b T ice oiled in vain to rag it ack,

d and b Thrice they toile , alone , wary and old ,

n a t t Whirli g a hurricane sword to sc er the rack, d i . Ham lton, last of the English, covere their track

e a nd t Nev r give in he cried , he heard them shou ,

no t b And grappled with deat h as a m an that knows dou t .

7 4 T H E GUIDES AT CABUL 75 And the Guides looked down from their smouldering b arrack again , b d b t And ehol , a anner of ruce , and a voice that spoke

n t ar e n Come, for we k ow hat the English all slai , We keep ‘ no feud w ith men of a kindred folk ; ’ b e Rejoice with us to free of the conqueror s yoke . l t Silence fe l for a moment, hen was heard

d a nd and d A soun of laughter scorn, an answering wor .

Is it we or the lords we serve w h o have earned this

n wro g, That ye call us to flin ch from the b a t tle they bade us fight i We that live— d o ye doub t that our hands are strong They that have fallen - y e know that their blood was bright Think ye the Guides will b arter for lust of the light d The pride of an ancient people in warfare bre ,

n and t Honour of comrades livi g, fai h to the dead

Then the joy that spurs the warrior ’s heart To the last thundering gallop a nd sheer leap Came on the men of th e Guides t hey flung apart The doors not all their valour could longer keep ; t b They dressed their slender line ; hey reathed deep, b t And with never a foot lagging or head en , l d t To the clash and c amour and ust of dea h they went . Tbe G ay Gordon s

20T H 1 8 (DARGAI, OCTOBER , 97)

’ ’ HO S for the Gathering, who s for the Fair (Gay goe s tbe Gor don to a figbt)

b b at d - The ravest of the rave are ead lock there, (Higbla nde rs m ar ck by tbe r igbt l) There are bullets by the hundred buzzing in the air ; There are bo n ny lads lying on the hillside b are Bu t the Gordons know what the Gordons dare When they hear the pipers playing

The happiest English heart to- day (Gay goe s tbe Gordon to a figbt)

h t n d it m a Is the ear of the Colo el , hi e as he y .

St a d be r ’ ste a d on tbc r i b ( e y t e . y g t l)

a nd He sees his work he sees the way,

t irn e an d He knows his the word to say, ’ And he s thinking of th e tune t hat th e Gordons play When he set s th e pipers playin g !

n Risi g, roaring, rushing like the tide , (Ga y goe s tbc Gor don to a figbt) ’ t fire - n ot b e d They re up hrough the zone , to enied ;

Ba on s an d cbar ’ b tbe r i bt ( y e t l ge . y g !) 76 THE GAY GORDON S 77

i b t t e Th rty ulle s s raight wher the rest went wide, And thirty lads are lying on th e b are hillside ’ in th e d But they passed the hour of Gor ons pride, ’ To the skirl of the pipers playing . Tbe Toy Band

;2 A SON G OF THE GREAT RETREAT

d d REARY lay the long roa , reary lay the town, ’ Lights out and never a glint O moon t Weary lay the s ragglers, half a thousand down,

Sad e th e bi sigh d weary g Dragoon . Oh ! if I ’d a drum here to make them take the road

again, ’ d C b ! Oh if I d a fife to whee le , ome , oys , come

a nd d You that mean to fight it out, wake take your loa

again, Fall in ! Fall in ! Follow the fife and drum !

’ ’ bu t Hey, here s a toy shop , here s a drum for me, Penny whistles too t o play th e tune Half a thousand dead men soon Shall hear and see ’ b t h e bi We re a and said weary g Dragoon . Rub adub Rubadub Wake and take the road

again,

d — d e e dle -d e e dle - b ! Whee le dee, Come, oys, come d You that mean to fight it out, wake and take your loa

again, Fall in ! Fall in ! Follow the fife and drum

7 3

A Letter From t/ze Fron t

- d a b WAS out early to y , spying a out From the top of a haystack— such a lovely morn Ing And w hen I mounted again to cant er b ack I saw across a field in the broad sunlight b t t A young gunner su al ern , s alking along With a rook-rifl e held at the ready and— would you be lieve it i A t b domes ic cat , soberly marching ehind him .

— d So I laughed , and felt quite well isposed to the young t s er, t And shou ed out The top of the morning to him , And wished him Good sport ! — a nd then I remem b ered

M b e y rank, and his , and what I ought to doing ;

And I d dd I ro e nearer, and a ed , can only suppose ’ You have n o t seen the Commander-in - Chie f s orders Forbidding English officers to annoy their Allies ” and t By hunting shoo ing . Bu t he stood and salu t ed

t I b e And said earnes ly, g your pardon, sir, I was only going out to shoot a sparrow m ” To feed y cat with . A LETTER FROM THE FRONT 8 1

SO there was the whole picture

The lovely early morning, the occasional shell

and d Screeching scattering past us , the empty lan scape t Empty, except for the young gunner salu ing

th e And cat, anxiously watching his every movement .

I b e d it b d may wrong, and I may have tol a ly, m b t Bu t it struck e as eing ex remely ludicrous . He Fell Am ong Tbie ve s

b ” E have rob ed, said he , ye have slaughtered

a n d d ma e an end ,

- b Take your ill got plunder, and ury the dead What will ye more of your guest a n d sometime friend i b ” Blood for our lood , they said .

If He laughed one m ay Settle the score for five, I am ready ; bu t let the reckoning stand till d ay

I have loved the sunlight as dearly as any alive . ” You shall die at dawn , said they .

He flung his empty revolver down the slope,

b o i He clim ed alone to the Eastward edge . the trees ; All night long in a dream untroubled of hope b d He roode , clasping his knees .

He did not hear the monotonous roar that fills The ravine where the Yassin riV e r sullenly flows did He not see the starlight on the Laspur hills,

s Or the far Afghan nows .

8 2 8 HE . FELL AMON G THIEVES 3

b He saw the April noon on his ooks aglow, The wis t aria t railing in at th e window wide ; ’ He heard his father s voice from the terrace b e low d d Calling him own to ri e .

tt He saw the gray li le church across the park, The mounds tha t hide th e lov e d a nd honoured dead t The Norman arch , the chancel sof ly dark,

b a n d re d The brasses lack .

a n d He saw the School Close , sunny green ,

b t h e t d b t h e The runner eside him , S an y parapet wall,

d a nd b The istant tape, the crowd roaring etween

His own name over all .

d an d b He saw the ark wainscot tim ered roof,

b and th e and The long ta les, faces merry keen ;

t a nd t t d The College Eigh heir rainer ining aloof, i The Dons on the da s serene .

’ t He watched the liner s s em ploughing the foam , He felt her trembling speed and the thrash of screw ’ d h e r i He hear passengers voices talk ng of home ,

th e He saw flag she flew .

And now it was dawn . He rose strong on his feet, And strode to his ruined camp b elow the wood He drank th e breath of th e morning cool and sweet His murderers round him stood 84 HE FELL AMONG THIEVES

b d Light on the Laspur hills was roa ening fast, The blood -red snow—peaks chilled to a d az rling whit e d He turne , and saw the golden circle at last, b t Cut y the Eas ern height .

O glorious Life, Who dwellest in earth and sun, I d ” have live , I praise and adore Thee .

A sword swept . Over the pass the voices one by o ne h t e t . Faded , and hill slep Ion ic us

I live — I am old— I r e turn to th e groun d t t t e to th e Blow rump e s and s ill I can dr am soun d . WI L L I AM R C O Y.

ITH failing feet a nd shoulders bowe d

n t th e t d Be ea h weigh of happier ay s , d d d He lagge among the hee less crow ,

u b b Or crept along s ur an ways .

Bu t t t all S ill hrough his heart was young,

d o t d His moo a jy that nough coul mar,

t e n A courage, a pride , a rap ur , spru g

’ th e t h d d Of s rengt and splen our of Englan s war .

From ill - requit e d toil he turned

d e t P an d To ri wi h icton with Pack, Am ong his grammars inly burned -t To storm the Afghan mountain rack . d d b b When mi night chime , efore ! ue ec He watched with Wolfe till the morning s t ar ; ’ At noon he saw from Vic tory s deck ’ a nd The sweep splendour of England s war . 8 5 86 IO NICUS

d b Beyon the ook his teaching sped , He left on whom he taught the trace d d Of kinship with the eathless dea , d R And faith in all the Islan ace .

: d He passed his life a tangle seeme , His age from fame and power was far ;

e n d But his heart was high to the , and dreamed ’ Of the sound and splendour of England s war .

T/z e Wa r Films

IV d L ING pictures of the dea , 0 d songs without a soun , 0 fellowship whose phantom tread Hallows a phantom ground How in a gleam have these revealed

n o t The faith we had found .

t Go d d We have sough in a clou y Heaven , We have passed by God on earth

His seven Sins and his sorrows seven, d h His wayworn moo and mirt , Like a ragged cloak have hid from us b The secret of his irth .

I Brother of men, when now see

The lads go forth in line, Thou knowest my heart is hungry in m e AS for thy b read and wine Thou knowest my heart is bowed in me t t i To ake their dea h for m ne . ’ D a St . George s y

YP RE s 1 1 , 9 5

th e to b b t O fill gap , ear the run

t b an d t d e Wi h ayonet wi h spa , Four hund red to a four-mile fron t Unb acked a nd undismayed

t t e Wha men are these , of wha gr at race ,

From what old shire or town , That run with such goodw ill t o face D e a th on a Flemish down

L e t be I tbe y bin d a brok e n lin e

As me n die so die tbe , y .

L an d o zbe re e tbe ir li e was tbin e f f f , ’ I Ge r e Da t is St. o s g y .

Yet say whose ardour bids them stand

At b a b d b y y yon er ank, ’ ’ Where a boy s voice and a boy s

Close up the quivering rank .

8 9 ’ 3T . GEORGE S DAY

Who under those all —shattering skies ’ Plays out his captain s par t With the last darkn ess in his eyes ‘ And B amu m in his heart i

L e t be le t be in on de r line , y

All n a me s a re bu rn e d a wa y .

L a n d o bis love tbe a me be tbine f f , ’ I s S Ge or e s Da i t. t g y.

Sa c ramen t um Supremum

E t hat with me have fought and failed and fought ’ d b t To the last esperate trench of attle s cres ,

Not yet to Sleep , not yet our work is nought

t th e On that last rench fate of all may rest .

d t b e Draw near, my frien s and let your though s high Great hear t s are glad when it is t ime to give d Life is no life to him that ares not die, t d And dea h no death to him that ares to live .

Draw near toge ther ; none b e last or first

bu t We are no longer names , one desire t b Wi h the same urning of the soul we thirst , And the same wine to - night shall qu ench our b Drink to our fathers who egot us men , To the dead voices that are never dumb

d and Then to the lan of all our loves , then

th e To long parting, and the age to come . ‘ Glyt on Cb ap e l

HI S is the Chapel here , my son, Your father thought t h e thought s And heard the words t hat one by one d t The touch of Life has turne to ruth .

d a Here in a y that is not far, You too m ay speak with noble ghosts Of manhood an d th e vows of war d b d You ma e efore the Lor of Hosts .

TO b set the cause a ove renown ,

To love the game beyond the prize , t d w To honour, while you s rike him o n, The foe t hat comes with fe arl e ss eyes b t t d To count the life of a le goo , d t And dear the lan that gave you bir h , And dearer yet t h e bro t herhood That binds th e brave of all th e eart h

M th e th e y son , oath is yours : end

I s b th e d t His , Who uilt worl of S rife, d d Who gave His chil ren Pain for frien ,

And e t e D a h for sur st hope of life .

93 94 CLIFTON CH A PEL

’ TO - d a fi h t s b y and here the g egun , ’ Of the grea t fellowship you re free

t th e Hencefor h School and you are one,

nd th b e A e . what You are , race shall

: b e God send you fortune yet sure,

Among the lights that gleam and pass , You ’ll live to follow none more pure b Than that which glows on yonder rass . ” ’ u i r o cu l bin c d t ! p , the legen s wri , The frontier -grave is far away ! u i an te die m p e riit

Se d mile s se d r o a tria , p p .

V IT AYLA MPADA

This they all with a joyful mind t Bear through life like a orch in flame, And fallin g fling to the host b ehind Play up ! play up ! and play th e game Tbe Vig a

NOLAND ! where the sacred flame b i Burns efore the inmost shr ne, Wh e re th e lips t hat love thy name

o t a nd C nsecrate heir hopes thine, Where th e b ann e rs of th y d ead d Weave their sha ows overhead ,

t - Wa ch beside thine arms to night,

Go d Pray that defend the Right .

Think that when to -morrow comes m d War shall clai comman of all ,

e Thou must h ar the roll of drums , ’ th e Thou must hear trumpet s call . b Now efore they silence ruth, Commune with the Voice of t ruth England ! on thy k n e e s t O-night d Pray that God defen the Right .

t Hast hou counted up the cost,

Wh to e at to foeman , what fri nd t Glory sought is Honour los , ’ How should t his b e knighthood s 97 T HE VIGIL

’ ’ Kno w st thou what is Hat red s meed 3

What the surest gain of Greed i ~ England wilt thou dare to - night Pray that God defend the Right P

- Single hearted , unafraid , t Hi her all thy heroes came, On this altar ’s steps were laid ’ ’ d Ou tr am s e Gor on s life and fam . England if thy will b e yet

By their great example set, Here b eside thine arms to - night

Pray that God defend the Right .

So shalt thou when morning comes

Rise to conquer or to fall ,

t h e Joyful hear rolling drums , t Joyful hear the trumpe s call . Then le t Memory tell thy heart ;

En lan d ! wbat tbou we rt tbo u a rt ! g , d t t Gir thee with hine ancient migh , Fort h ! and God defend the Right !

Tbe Sailing of tbe Long — sk ips

1 8 (OCTOBER, 99)

b d HEY saw the ca les loosene , they saw the gang d ways cleare ,

d t h e m e n They hear women weeping, they heard the t hat cheered

O ff f o ff t d d d Far , ar , the umult fade and ie away,

- Ba And all alone the sea wind came singing up the y .

St V b I came by Cape . incent , I came y Trafalgar,

t Ve d a d V I swep from Torres r s to gol en igo Bar, I saw the b eacons blazing that fired the world wi th ligh t When down their ancient highway your fathers pass e d

to fight .

' 0 ra c e o f t t re tireless fighters , flushed wi h a you h d newe , ’ Right well the wars o f Freedom b e fit the Sea -kings brood d Yet as ye go forget not the fame of yon er shore ,

h o ld b The fame ye owe your fathers a nd t e time efore . T HE S A ILI NG OF T H E LON G — SHIPS [ O I

- ff n - e no t Long su eri g were the Sea kings , th y were

swift to kill, ’ But when th e sands h ad fallen they waited no man s will b d d Though all the world for a e them , they counte not d nor care ,

d d t h e They weighe not help or hin rance, they did thing

d e they ar d .

! Se a - e d b t The kings lov not oas ing, they cursed not d him that curse , d d They honoure all men uly, and him that faced them , first

Th e d v strove and knew not hatre , they smote and

t d e oile to sav ,

e t d d d Th y en e whom they vanquishe , they praised the

b e fallen rav .

’ ’ V Their fame s on Torres Vedras , their fame s on igo

Bar,

- fl ash e d V b Far to Cape St . incent it urns from Trafalgar Mark as ye go t h e beacons tha t woke the world with light When down their ancient highway your fa thers passed ” t to figh . Waggon Hill

RAKE in the North Sea grimly prowling, ’ Re ve n e s Treading his dear g deck, - d Watched , with the sea dogs roun him growling, b Galleons drifting wreck y wreck . ’ Fetter and Faith for England s neck, t Faggot and Fa her, Saint and chain , d Yon er the Devil and all go howling, 0 i Devon , Devon, in w nd and rain

O ff b Drake at the last Nom re lying,

Knowing the night that toward him crept, Gave to the sea - dogs rou nd him crying This for a sign b e fore he slept Pride of the West What Devon hath kept Devon shall keep on t ide or main C t all to the storm and drive hem flying, ! Devon , O Devon , in wind and rain

Valour of England gaunt and whitening,

in b t o b a Far a South land rought y,

1 0 2

T/z e Volun teer

n E leapt to arms unbidde , -b Unneeded, over old; b dd His face y earth is hi en ,

His heart in earth is cold .

Curse on the reckless daring

That could not wait the call , The proud fantastic b earing That would b e first to fall !

O tears of human passion, Blur no t the image true ; ’ n o t This was folly s fashion,

This was the man we knew . Tbe OnlyI Son

B ITTER wind toward the sunset blowing What of the d ales to - night

Old In yonder gray hall what fires are glowing, What ring of festal light

I n tbe gre at win dow as zbe day was dwin dling

I sa w a n old ma n sta n d

His be a d was r o u dl be ld a n d bis e e s kin dlin p y y g, Bu t tbc list sbo ok in bis ba n d .

0 wind of twilight, was there no word uttered, NO sound of joy or wail I ! ’ A re a t bt a n d a ood de a tb be m u tte r e d g fig g , ’ Tru st bim be wo u ld n ot a il , f .

What of the chamb er dark where she was lyin g For whom all life is done i‘

Witbin be r be a rt sbe r ocks a de a d cbilcl cr in , y g ’ M son m li ttle son y , y . ’ Tbe Grenadier s Good- By e

W e L e te t M e th e h e e e ll , l e k h n i u nan urray f on y words spo w r , - r G e e I P re ss T e le ra m . Forwa d, r nadi rs g

e ERE they halted , here once mor Hand from hand was rent ; Here his voice above the roar

and Rang, on they went .

Yonder out of sight they crossed, Yonder d ied the cheers One word lives where all is lost

Forward, Grenadiers

Of This alone he asked fame, This alone of pride ;

a Still with this he f ced the flame,

Answered Death, and died . t b Cres of attle sunward tossed,

Song of the m ar ching years, This shall live though all be lost

Forward, Grenadiers

On Spion K op

’ OREMOST of all on b att le s fiery steep

V an d Here ERTUE fell , here he sleeps his A fairer name no Roman ever gave V ’ To stand sole monument on alour s grave .

th e ff -M r to M N . H . Ve t e e j Ge e l ajor r u , of Bu s , Brig ad a o n ra W t e e h e e th e e e S Ko g e b e h ll, g p , ood a , was uri d w r f on d of pion in fron t of th e Bri tish position . Tbe Scbool at Wa r

LL night before the brink of dea th

fitfu l In sleep the army lay, For through t h e dream that stilled their brea th

d a Too gauntly glared the coming y .

Bu t t b d we , wi hin whose loo there leaps The fulness of a life as wide ’ As Avon s wa t er where he swe e ps ’ d t d Seawar at last with Severn s i e ,

We heard beyond th e deser t night d The murmur of the fiel s we knew, An d our swift souls with one delight t d l Like homing swallows Nor hwar f ew .

We d th e t playe again immor al games ,

And d Old f e grapple with the fierce ri nds,

d th e d And cheere dead un ying names , An d sang t h e song that n e ve r ends

th e d b Till, when har , familiar ell

l d th e t To that summer nigh was late, Wh e re long ago we said fare well

d b th e t We sai farewell y old ga e .

1 09 I I O T H E SCHOOL AT WAR

” i s d O Capta n unforgot, they crie ,

o u Come y again or come no more,

Across the world you keep the pride,

Across the world we mark the score .

P eace

( 1 90 2)

0 b ’ more to watch y Night s eternal Shore , ’ With England s chivalry a t d awn t o ride

— O ! no No more defeat, faith, victory more

w e A cause on earth for which might have died . April on Waggon Hill

and t AD, can you res now, There beneat h your hill 3 d b Your han s are on your reast now, Bu t is your heart so still ’ d Twas the right eath to die, lad,

A gift without regret, ’ t But unless ruth s a lie, lad,

You dream of Devon yet .

’ A a y , y , the year s awaking, ’ t h e The fire s among ling,

Th e b e e ch e n d b he ge is reaking, ’ The curlew s on the wing ;

Primroses are out, lad,

On the high banks of Lee,

And the sun stirs the trout , lad ,

n to se a From Brendo the .

’ k in I now what s your heart, lad, The mare he used to hu nt b - And her lue m arket cart, lad, With posies tied in front 1 1 3 1 1 4 APRIL O N WAGGON HI LL

We miss them from the moor road , ’ o ld They re getting to roam , The road they ’ re on’ s a sure road

And nearer, lad , to home .

Your name , the name they cherish ’ ’ l d l a d t is t Twi l fa e , , rue But stone a n d all m ay perish

t t t o Wi h lit le loss you . ’ ’ While fame s fame you re Devon, lad , Th e Glory of th e West ; ’ th e d Till roll s calle in heaven , lad ,

You may well take your rest .

1 1 6 THE FOURTH OF AUGUS T

fa land Far across to y ,

fa la n d Far across to y , Far across to fayla nd

The sunset shadows creep .

All in one great shadow ,

All in one great shadow, Al l in one great shadow

The midnight shadows sleep .

As ibe sin Au r or a asse s on a n d disa e a rs [ y g p pp . ] Ente r a M or ta l T o u tb de lica te l dr e sse d : be [ , y

str e tcbe s bimse l on a re e n ba n k la n u idl a n d f g g y,

m u se s . ]

How I love life how fair and full it glides

I n d d - b s this ear lan , where age long peace a ide ’ This land of Nature s finest fashioning , Where every month brings forth some lovely thing M Where Spring goes like her streams , from arch to June, ’ D a ncing a n d glit tering to t h e b re e ze s tune ;

An d Summer, like the rose in sunset Skies , From splendour into splendour softly dies

Where Autumn , while she sings her harvest home , b b Deep in her osom hides the irth to com e,

An d d n t h e t d Winter reams , whe long nigh s are col , b A dr eam of snowdrops and the leating fold . Ah how I love it — most of all the year ’ e a This perfect month when Summer s end is n r .

For now July has set , and August dawns , i A st llness broods upon the y ellowing lawns , 1 1 T H E FOURTH OF A UGUST 7

Now senses all are by enchantment laid

I n d b t - d d gol en sleep enea h a green gol sha e , ’ Un t il t h e hour when twilight s tender gloom

d e I s starre wit h flowers of magic faint perfum . t Now passions are forgo , now memory wakes

An d o ld e out of delight new vision mak s ,

- l While Time moves only where the rose leaves fal , ’ An d d t t at Death s a sha e ha never moves all .

H e m u se s on in sile n ce [ .]

SONG OF THE FLOWER- SPI RITS

’ ’ Winter s over a n d Summer s here Da n ce ove r tbe fa iry r ing ’ ’ a n d Winter s over Summer s here, An d i be gay bir ds sing

Roses flo u rish and roses fall Da n ce ove r tbe fa iry r in g

t a n d Lilies are whi e lupins tall , An d tbc gay birds sing

What Shall we do when Summer ’s dead Win d ove r tbe f a iry r in g ’ b e d Then you must sleep in Winter s , An d n o bir ds sing

Wha t shall we do when Winter ’s done I Win d ove r tbc fa iry r ing t a nd Then you mus wake greet the sun, And tbc ga y bir ds sing 1 1 8 THE FOURTH OF AUGUST

Winter ’s over and Summer ’s here D a n ce ove r tbe fa iry r in g ’ 0 Now comes in the sweet the year, An d tbe gay bir ds sing

En te r a V e ile d Fi u re wbo sta n ds ove r a a inst [ g , g

dr owsin T o u tb a n d s e a ks g p . ]

m m Seek not to lift y veil , ask not y name . ’ — I b I have no name am the Spirit s reath , ’ b d The soul s own loo , the secret spring of life .

O f a n d O Child Earth Sky , lighten thine eyes ,

— See What thou art in truth no fading flower,

NO b east of prey , no dust enjoying dust ,

NO fluttering thing for mere salvation wild , NO passing shadow on the dial of Time I th What , then Look in y heart what life hast thou

That dust and shadows lack, what life beyond The life of flower or b east Have these the power

To live for something greater, to resign Even in the sunlit moment of their strength Their separate b eing i I am that which b ids thee Die and outlive thyself : I am the Voice

n That all thy heroes heard . When their lo g toil d b l Bowe down their urning shoulders , when they bui t b Thy peace with their despair, when itter seas b Rolled over them , when battle roke their hearts

— This was their life in death then , then they heard

I ZO T HE FOURTH OF AUGUST

b Sunlit a ove you leaves are cool , b d Sunlit esi e you gleams the pool , Sunlit and slumb erous Summer goes by b And we will sing your lulla y .

[Tbe y sin k down u p on tbc gr ass tbc stilln e ss ofzbe ’ a rde n be co m e s o n e w itb tbe T o u t/9 s dr am g e .

Ente r as in a vision o tba t dre a m a M otbe r a n d , f , be r tw o Boys tbe Boys se e tbe Fa ys a nd r u n

tow ards tbe m bu t a re sta e d b a su dde n tbrob , y y

o u ns fg . Ente r fr o m be bin d tbc Ve ile d Figu re a Boy witb a Dr u m : be m a r cbe s u to tbe two M ortal Cbilclre n p , to u cbe s tbe m o n tbe bre ast a n d signs to tbe m to

ollo w bim Tbc M otbe r darts orw a r d a n d f . f la s be r a r ms a r o u n d tbe m s e a kin to tbe Bo y , p g y b b Dr u m in re at a larm wit t c . , g ]

I MOTHER . Why do you call them

BOY . They must come with me . M I OTHER . Is it for life or death

BOY . I cannot tell

I never heard of Death .

M b o u I OTHER . Who ade y call them BOY i — . A woman with a ve l she stands there waiting .

— MOTHER . I see her now her veil is close as night, b But her face shines eneath it , like the fire

n Of the first star that mounts his guard in heave .

I see her lifted hand , I hear her voice Like thunder rolling among distant hills

Instant , tremendous , irresistible, T H E FOURTH O F AUGUST I Z I

- - Soul shaking, world destroying O my children The end of our sweet life— the end is come

Sbe bows be r be a d ove r tbe Cbildre n clas in tbe m [ , p g i btl A u n e r a l m ar cb is be a rd : tbe Bo t g y . f y be ats bis dr u m to it a n d tu r ns to go tbe m otbe r

liste ns in a on still boldin ba ck be r c bildre n g y, g . Tbe f u n e r a l m a r cb cba nge s to a bigb tr iu mpba nt m ove m e nt : sbe r ise s a n d a te r a m om e nt o e n s , f p b r a r ms Tbe Cbildr n k ss b a n d a b e . e i e r m r c

joyfu lly a w ay sbe lifts be r be a d witb zbe sa m e

r o u d e stu re a s tbe irs a n d ollows tbe m slowl p g , f y

an d a t a dista n ce . ]

M Fa re w e ll m !Th e w o rld OTHER . , y sons is changed for m e But t his too you have don e -your joy has fanned

M d - fire s d b y smoul ering altar , your pri e has urned To flame a nd fragrance all my b alm of earth

-b e Child m emories , high uilt hop s , comfort of love,

Yea even the touch , the Sight and hearing of you ’ ’ : t All s lost , all s won the gif is perfected

Sbe oe s ou t [ g . ]

Tbe T o u tb starts u a n d s e a ks [ p p . ] How long have I b een sleeping I Now this place d d Is change , as though after a hundre years That which lay bound by some ignoble spell

d e Had hear a silver trump t , leapt afoot,

And d d marche with tramp of thousan s to the fight . Surely I heard that call— surely it came Ringing with countless echoes of old wars t d t Wi h ten er pi y , red indignant wrath, 1 2 2 T HE FOURTH O F AUGUST

a nd t White cold resolve hatred of the beas ,

s Courage that knows not fear, courage that know

An d knowing dares a hundred deaths in one,

b c Freedom that lives y servi e , kindliness ’ b That even in anger keeps men s rotherhood ,

And love of country , that high passionate pride

Old In the visions of a generous race ,

b u t e t Not yet fulfilled , never y forsaken A d b b s y these I hear , and all my lood remem er m That so y fathers heard them . Oh I had seen My garden with dull eyes that which was min e The b est of my inheritance— the sight Of those immortal ghosts whose living glory For ever haunts the hom e of their renown I had lost it till this moment Now I wake d I know what I have love , I see again Beneath the beauty of life perishing

t ransfi u re s That which g , that which makes the world

Of life enduring . If there must be death Let it be mine If there must be defeat t Let it be mine , my Coun ry, and not thine Let it b e mine I hear a voice within me ’ ’ l — A l s lost , all s won the gift is perfected

He m ar cbe s a wa r o u dl to ibe sa me m u sic [ y p y, .] Tbe Fa s da n ce a a in sile ntl tbe s u n se ts a n d [ y g y ,

be sin k to sle e Tbc Ve ile d Fi u re m o i y p . g ve s orw a r d a a in a n d sta n ds motion le ss wbe re tbe f g , Yo u tb ba d la in dre a m in Tbe Cu r a n a . t i lls g f .]

I 24 A BALLA D O F S I R P E RT AB SI NGH

When morning cam e , in narrow chest d ’ h id The sol ier s face they , An d over his fast -d reaming e yes d Shut own the narrow lid .

a n d Three were there of his race creed , Three only and no more They could not find to b ear the dead

o dh o re A fourth in all J p .

M e O aharaj , of your good grac Send us a Sweeper here A Sw eeper has no caste t o lose b b ” Even y an alien ier .

I Pe r tab What need , what need said Singh ,

An d b owed his princely head .

I have no caste , for I myself b Am earing forth the dead .

0 M aharaj , O passionate heart, b Be wise , ethink you yet That which you lose to — d ay is lost ” Till the last sun shall set .

Pe rt ab God only knows , said Singh , That which I lose to -d ay And wit hout me no hand of man ” h e ar Shall my friend away . A B A LLAD OF S I R P E RT AB SI NG H 1 25

S t ately and slow and should er-high I n the sight of all Jo dh p o re The d ead went d own the rose — red steps d b b Uphel y earers four .

When daw n relit the lamp of grief Within th e burning East

e Pe r t a b Th re came a word to Singh,

The soft word of a p riest .

He woke , and even as he woke t t He wen for h all in white , An d saw t h e Brahmins bowing there

t h e d In har morning light .

M Alas O aharaj , alas O noble Pe rt a b Singh For here in Jo dh p o re yesterday

Befell a fearful thing .

0 here in Jo dh p o re yesterd ay ” e b A f arful thing efell .

Pe rt ab A fearful thing, said Singh, God and m y heart know well

I lost a friend . More fearful yet When down t hese s t eps you past In sight of all Jo dh p o re you lost ” 0 M — aharaj your caste . 1 2 6 A BALLAD OF SIR P E RT A B SI NGH

’ Then leapt the ligh t in Pe rt a b s eyes

As the flame leaps in smoke , Thou priest t h y soul hath never known d The wor thy lips have spoke .

My caste Know thou there is a caste b A ove my caste or thine , Brahmin a n d Rajpu t are b u t dust To that immortal line

d d th e Wi e as the worl , free as air, Pure as the pool of d ea t h The caste of all Earth ’s noble hearts I h d ’ ” s t e right sol ier s faith .

1 2 8 C OMMEMO RATION

0 ” Youth , the preacher was crying, deem not thou Thy life is thine alone ;

b i Thou earest the will of the ages , see ng how b b They uilt thee bone by one , And within thy blood the Great Age sleeps Sepulchred

Till thou and thine shall roll away the stone .

Therefore the days are coming when thou Shalf b u rn With passion whit ely hot ; Rest shall b e rest no more t h y feet shall spurn A11 that thy hand hath got ;

And t One that is Stronger shall gird hee , and lead thee swiftly 0 Whither, heart of Youth , thou wouldest not .

And the School passed and I saw the living and dead t Set in heir seats again , And I longed to hear them speak of the word that was d sai , I d But knew that I longe in vain . d And they stretched forth their han s , and the wind of t h e spirit took them a Lightly as drifted leaves on an endless pl in . Tbe E cbo

' F A P E O BALLAD SUN G BY H . LUNKET GREEN T o HIS OLD SCHOOL

I d d b W CE three hun re oys were we ,

L on a o lon a o g g , g g ,

th e Where Downs look out to the Severn Sea . Clifton for aye d b th e e d We hel y gam and haile the team ,

d e d For many coul play wh re few coul dream .

Cit o Son sball sta n d a lw a y f g y .

a nd Some were for profit some for pride,

Lon a o lon a o g g , g g ,

th e t d Some for flag hey lived and ied . Clifton for aye d b e The work of the worl must still done ,

An d n d b e o n e mi s are many though truth .

Cit o Son sba ll stan d a lw a y f g y .

t But a lad here was to his fellows sang,

L on a o lon a o g g , g g ,

An d d soon the worl to his music rang . Cl i fton for aye ! I 30 THE ECH O

Follow your Captains , crown your Kings , But what will ye give t o t h e l ad that sings I

Cit o Son sb all sta n d a lw a y f g y .

For the voice ye hear is the voice of home ,

L o n a o lon a o g g , g g ,

And the voice of Youth with the world to roam . Clifton for aye !

The voice of passion and human tears , t And the voice of the vision that ligh s the years .

C o So n sba ll sta n d alwa ity f g y .

1 32 T H E BEST SCHOOL O F A L L

’ I ’m And where s the wealth, wondering , Could b u y the cheers tha t roll When the last charge goes thundering Beneath the twil ight goal I

The men that tanned the hide of

d a n d e d Our aily foes fri n s , They shall not lose their prid e of ’ e d Howe er the journey n s .

Their voice , to us who sing of it , b No more its message ears , But the round world shall ring of

b e t And all we are heirs .

To speak of Fame a venture is , ’ b d There s little here can i e ,

u But we may face the cent ries , And d a t e the d eepening t ide ’ For though th e dus t t hat s par t of u s

b e To dust again gone , Yet here shall b eat th e heart of u s The School we handed on

’ We ll bon o u r e t tbe S cbool we k n e w y , Tbe be st Scbool ofa ll

’ e ll bono u r e t ibe r u le w e kne w W y ,

T be last be ll ca ll ill t .

For wor kin da s or bolida s , g y y ,

An d la d or me la n cbol da s g y y , Tbe y w e re gre a t da ys a n d j olly days

bc be st Scbool o all At t f . E ngland

RAI SE t hou with praise unending The Master of the Wine To all their portions sending Himself he mingled t hine

— b O f The sea orn flush morning,

- b The sea orn hush of night , d The East win comfort scorning, And the North wind driving right

a n d The world for gain giving,

an d b o The game for man y,

The life that joys in living,

t o The fai h that lives in jy . 2 1 8 1 (JUN E I ST, 97 )

THOUSAND years by sea and land

th e d Our race hath served islan kings , ’ But not by custom s dull comm and TO - day wit h song her Empir e rings

Not all the glories of her birth, d Her arme renown and ancient throne , Could make her less the child of earth Or give her hopes b eyond our own

But stayed on faith more Sternly proved

An d t d pride han ours more pure and eep, She loves t h e land our fathers loved

And keeps the fame our sons shall keep .

1 T e e e t Dr . L e t th e cle h s lin s , wi h music by loyd , form d par of Cy n f e to e e V t e se e o S o e ! , bl gl f g of r d u n ic oria of s d and orious m mory, l in c e l e bration of h e r s e c ond Jubi e e . 1 34

1 36 THE KI NG OF EN GLA ND

Full of a s t rength unb roken showed h is face b ’ d And his row calm with youth s unclou ed dawn , But round his lips were lines of tend erer grace ’ u b u t S ch as no hand Time s hath ever drawn . Surely he knew his glory had no part

In dull decay , nor unto Death must bend , Yet surely too of lengthening shadows dreamed

With sunset in his heart,

SO b brief his eauty now, so near the end ,

Old And now so and so immortal seemed .

0 King among the living, these shall hail Sons of thy dust that shall inherit thee 0 King of men that die , though we must fail

Th b d t h V S e a y life is reathe from triumphant .

b i b O man that servest men y r ght of irth , ’ Our hearts content thy heart shall also keep , Thou too with us shalt o ne d ay lay thee do w n

I n t t our dear na ive ear h ,

Full sure the King of England , while we sleep ,

For ever rides abroad through London town . Tbc N ile

UT of the unknown South ,

t h e d d Through ark lan s of drouth , Far wanders ancient Nile in slumber gliding Clear -mirrored in his dream The d eeds that haunt his Stream d Flash out and fa e like stars in midnight sliding .

b t h e Long since , efore life of man

Rose from among the lives that creep , ’ With Time s own tide began

That still mysterious sleep ,

t o d Only cease when Time shall reach the eternal eep .

From out his vision vast

The early gods have passed , They waned and perished with the faith that mad e them The long phantasmal line Of Pharaohs crowned d ivine d b d t Are ust among the dust that once o eye hem . d b d Their lan is one mute urial moun , Save when across the drifted years w d Some chant of hollo soun ,

b e t Some triumph l nt with ears , ’ Me m n o n s a t d t h e s From lips awn wakens desert mere .

I S7 1 38 THE N ILE

b e O Nile , and can it NO memory dwells with thee Of Grecian lore and th e sweet Grecian singer I ’ The legions iron tramp , ’ - d The Goths wide wan ering camp , Had these no fame tha t by thy shore might linger I

t b e t d Nay , hen must all los indee , Lost too the swift pursuing might That cleft with passionate speed ’ b t A oukir s tranquil nigh ,

’ And shattered in mid -swoop the great world -eagle s

flight .

Yet have there been on earth b Spirits of starry irth , Whose splendour rushed to no eternal setting

They over all endure ,

Their course through all is sure , ’ d d t t b The ark worl s ligh is s ill of their egetting .

t h e t Though long past forgot en lies , t h b Nile in y dream remem er him , Whose like no more shall rise b ’ A ove our twilight s rim ,

Until the immortal dawn shall make all glories dim .

For this man was not great t By gold or kingly sta e , ’ th e b Or right sword , or knowledg e of earth s wonder But more than all his race

e He saw life face to fac ,

d th e b And hear still small voice a ove the thunder .

’ Sr abm a n dctz i

EEP b b r em owered eside the forest rive ,

Where the flame of sunset only falls , d Lappe in Silence lies the House of Dying,

House of them to whom the twilight calls .

d There within when day was near to en ing, d By her lor a woman young and strong, By his chief a songman Old and stricken

t h e Watched together till hour of song .

0 b o w b my songman , now the is roken , b Now the arrows one y one are sped ,

to Sré h m a ndaz i Sing me the song of ,

Srah m andaz i , home of all the dead .

so n n e t Then the songman , flinging wide his g , ’ On the last token laid his master s hand ,

h Srah m a ndé z i W ile he sang the song of ,

bu d t None t dying men can un ers and .

Yonder sun that fierce and fie ry -hearted

M t o arches down the sky vanish soon , At the self-same hour in Srah m an dé z i d Rises palli like the rainy moon .

1 4 0 SRAHM A N D AZI 1 4 1

t h e b t There he sees heroes y heir river, Where the great fish daily upward swim

Y b u t d t d e t t hey are sha ows hun ing sha ows ,

d a n d dim Phantom fish in waters rear .

d There he sees the kings among their hea men,

e Women weaving , children playing gam s

t b u t d Yet hey are sha ows ruling shadows , t Phantom folk wi h dim forgotten names .

t t t Bid farewell to all tha mos hou lovest , Tell t h y heart thy living life is done All the d ays a nd deeds of Srah m andaz i t Are not wor h an hour of yonder sun .

Dreamily th e chief from out the so ngn e t ’ Drew his hand a nd t ouched the w oman s head

Srah m a ndaz i I Know they not , then , love in Has a kin g no bride among t h e dead I

d t Then the songman answere , O my mas er,

b u t t Love they know , none may learn it here Only souls t hat reach t ha t land toge th e r

t and th e t Keep their roth find twiligh fair .

a r t t th Thou s ill a king, and at y passing By thy la t est word must all abid e t I t h If thou willes , here am , y songman b If thou lovest, here is she , thy ride . 1 42 S RAH M A N DAZ I

Hushed and dreamy lay the House of Dying, d Dreamily the sunlight upwar failed , Dreamily the chief on eyes t ha t loved him d t w t Looke wi h eyes the coming t iligh veiled .

M Then he cried , y songman , I am passing ;

bu t b Let her live , her life is egun All th e days a nd nights of Sr ah m andé z i

Are not worth an hour of yonder sun .

t t h e Yet , when there wi hin House of Dying

d t h e t The last silence hel sunse air,

Sr ah m a ndaz i Not alone he came to , Not alone sh e found the tw ilight fair

While the songman , far beneath the forest

Srah m a n daz i t Sang of all night hrough ,

b e Lovely thy name , O Land of shadows ,

Land of meeting , Land of all the true

Hop e tbe Hornblower

d ARK ye , hark to the win ing horn d Sluggar s , awake , and front the

Hark ye , hark to the winding horn ’ a nd The sun s on meadow mill .

Follow me , hearts that love the chase

Follow me , feet that keep the pace

Stirrup to stirrup we ride , we ride, b ” We ride y moor and hill .

Huntsman , huntsman , whither away What is the quarry afoot to — day I

Huntsman , huntsman , whither away, And what the game ye kill I I d t d I s it the eer , tha men may ine I S it the wolf that tears the kine I d What is the race ye ride , ye ri e , Ye ride by moor and hill I

Ask not yet till the day be dead ’ d What is the game that s forwar fled , Ask not y e t till t h e day b e dead l The game we follow Sti l .

1 44 HO P E T HE HORNBLOWER

b e An echo it may , floating past

b e d A shadow it may , fa ing fast

w h d e d Shado or ec o , we ri , we ri e, ” d b a nd We ri e y moor hill . O P u lcbr it u do

SAINT whose thousand shrines our feet have trod ’ An d b our eyes loved thy lamp s eternal eam , Dim earthly radiance of the Unknown Go d

e t t Hope of the darkn ss , ligh of hem that dream ,

O ff O E a nd t Far , far fain , O glimmer on

Till we thy pilgrims from the road are gone .

0 d Wor whose meaning every sense hath sought,

Voice of the teeming field and grassy mound ,

-w Deep hispering fountain of the wells of thought,

th e d o f Will of win and soul all sweet sound ,

o ff o ff Far , far and faint , O murmur on

Till we thy pilgrims from the road are gone .

1 48 THE FI NAL MYSTE RY

d th e Lord , though I live on earth, child of earth , Yet was I fa thered by the starry sky ’ e Thou knowest I cam not of the shadows birth ,

Let me not die the death that shadows die . Give m e to drink of the sweet spring that leaps M ’ From emory s fount , Wherein no cypress sleeps .

n 0 l Then shalt thou dri k, Soul , and therewith s ake The immortal lo n ging of thy mortal thirst ’ O f t So thy Fa her s life shalt thou partake ,

b e And for ever that thou wert at first . b Lost in remem ered loves , yet thou more thou

— Now With them shalt reign in never ending . I l San to

LAS alas what impious hands are these I They have cut down my dark mysterious De fie d the brooding spell d That sealed my sacre well , ’ t d and b Broken my fa hers fixe ancient ars , And on the mouldering shade Wherein my dead were laid

Let in the cold clear aspect of the stars .

Slumb er hath held the grove for years untold Is there no reverence for a peace so old I Is there no seemly awe b - For ronze engraven law , For dust b e a t ifie d and saintly name I When they shall see the shrine P rinces have held divine , Will they not h o w befo re th e eternal flame

Vain vain t h e wind of heaven for ages long

d d L e t t arm b e Hath whispere manhoo , hine strong Hew down a n d flin g away

a d The growth th t veils ecay , 1 49 1 50 I L S A NTO

n Shatter the shrine that chokes the living spri g .

Scorn hatred , scorn regret ,

Dig deep and deeper yet ,

Leave not the quest for word of saint or king .

Dig deeper yet though the world brand thee The faithful labour of an impious brow May for thy race redeem The source of that lost stream

Once given the thirst of all the earth to slake .

e nd Nay, thou too ere the Thy weary knee m ayst b end b And in thy trem ling hands that water take .

From Gen era tion to Genera t ion

t b SON of m ine , when dusk shall find hee ending Between a gravestone and a cradle ’s head Between the love whose name is loss unending

And the young love whose thoughts are liker dread , Thou too shalt groan at heart that all thy spending

Cannot repay the dead , the hungry dead . Wbe n I Remember

HEN I remember that the d ay will come b For this our love to quit his land of irth, And bid farewell to all the ways of earth b With lips that must for evermore be dum ,

Then creep I silent from the stirring hum ,

And shut away the music and the mirth , And reckon up what m ay be left of worth ’ When hearts are cold and love s own body numb .

b e Something there must that I know not here, Or know too dimly through the symbol dear b b Some touch , some eauty, only guessed y this

If He that m ade us loves , it shall replace,

Beloved , even the vision of thy face

s And deep communion of thine inmost kis . Mor s ja n u a

ILGRIM , no shrine is here , no prison , no Thy fear and thy belief alike are fond

n Death is a gate , and holds no room withi

— Pass to the road beyond .

Rondel

ONG a go to thee I gave

d a nd I Bo y , soul , all have Nothing in the world I keep

Al l that in return I crave Is that thou accept the Slave Long ago to thee I gave

a nd Body , soul , all I have .

Had I more to share or save, b I would give as give the rave , Stooping not to part the heap Long ago to thee I gave

Body , soul , and all I have

Nothing in the world I keep . Balade

b CANNOT tell , of twain eneath this bond, t b Which one in grief the o her goes eyond ,

e nd b Narcissus, who to the pain he ore Died of the love that could not help him more I b Or , that pine ecause I cannot see d The la y who is queen and love to me .

— Nay for Narcissus , in the forest pond d Seeing his image , ma e entreaty fond ,

o Bel ved , comfort on my longing pour So for a while he soothed his passion sore I So cannot , for all too far is she

The lady who is queen and love to me .

’ But since that I have Love s true colours donned, I d d in his service will not now espon , For in extremes Love yet can all restore SO till her beauty walks the world no more All day remem bered in my hope shall b e

d a nd The la y who is queen love to me . Tbe La s t Word

EFORE the April night was late A rider came to the castle gate b A rider reathing hum an breath ,

But the words he spoke were the words Death .

Greet you well from the King our lord , He marches hot for the eastward ford d Living or ying , all or one ,

b e Ye must keep the ford till the race run .

Sir Alain rose with lips that smiled ,

He kissed his wife , he kissed his child Before the April night was late

Sir Alain rode from the castle gate .

-a t - b He called his men arms y name , But one there was uncalled that came b d He bade his troop ehin him ride, b But there was one that rode eside .

Wby w ill yo u sp u r so fast to die P e wise r r b n b o b B e e t e ig t g y . A m e ssage la te is a m e ssage lost

For all ou r baste tbc oe ba d crosse d y f .

1 5 8

1 60 T HE LAST WO RD

He set his face to the stream below, He drew his axe from the saddle bo w M d Farewell , essire , the night is spe

There lies the ford , when all is said . ’ Tbe Viking s Song

HEN I thy lover first Shook out my canvas And like a pirat e burst I t d nto tha reaming sea , The land knew no such t hirst

AS then tormented me .

Now when at eve returned I d near that shore ivine , Where once b u t watch — fire s burned I b see thy eacon shine , And know the land hath learned

Desire that welcomes mine . Tbe S ufi in t bc City

HEN late I watched the arrows of the sleet d b Against the win ows of the Tavern eat , I heard a Rose that murmured from her Pot Wh y trudge th y fellows yonder in the Street I

Before the phantom of False Morning dies , d b t b Choke in the it er Net that inds the skies , b d Their feet , emired with Yester ay, set out

TO - For the dark alleys where morrow lies .

b d Think you , when all their petals they have ruise ,

And all the fragrances of Life confused , That Night with sweeter rest will comfort these t I Than us , who still wi hin the Garden mused

1 62

To E dward Fit z gera ld

M 1 0 ( ARCH 3I ST, 9 9)

I S a sa d fate

To watch the world fighting, All that is most fair b Ruthlessly lighting , ! b t Blighting , ah ligh ing .

When such a thought cometh

Let us not pine , Bu t gather old friends Round the red wine Oh pour the red wine

’ And there we ll talk And warm our wits Wit h Eastern fallacies Out of o ld Fitz British Old Fitz !

See him , half statesm an Philosopher too Half ancient m ariner In b aggy blue Such b aggy blue !

1 64 T O EDWARD FITZGERALD 1 65 W himsical , wistful ,

Haughty , forsooth t Indolen always , yet t Ardent in tru h , d t But in olen , indolent

Th e re at the table t Wi h us sits he , Charming us sub tly

To reverie, M agic reverie .

’ b t How sweet is summer s rea h , How sure a n d swift is d eath t Nought wise on ear h , save

n w h is e re th What the wi e p ,

i w h is e re th Dream ly p .

' Naish a tI r b a At p ene th the sun , b Or here in misty Ba ylon , Drink for the rose leaves whil e you linger b Are falling, ever falling , one y one .

’ Ah poet s soul , once more with us conspire t To grasp this sorry scheme of hings entire,

- t Old Once more with us to nigh , Fitz, once more ’ Re mould it nearer to the heart s desir e ! Ya t tendon

MONG the woods and tillage d That fringe the topmost owns , ll All lonely lies the Vi age ,

o ff Far from seas and towns . Yet when her own folk slumb ered I heard wit hin her street Murmur of men unnumb ered d And march of myria feet .

Sh e For all lies so lonely ,

o ff s Far from towns and sea , The vill age holds not only The roofs b eneath her trees While Life is sweet and tragic d b And Death is veile and dum , ’ b m a ic Hither, y singer s g , d The pilgrim worl must come .

Among t be Tombs

HE is a lady fair and wise ,

Her heart her counsel keeps , An d well Sh e knows of t irn e that flies And tide that onward sweeps But Still she sits with restless eyes Where Memory sleeps W M here emory Sleeps .

Ye that have heard the whispering dead

I n every wind that creeps , Or felt the stir that strains th e lead

Beneath the mounded heaps ,

Tread softly , ah more softly tread Where Memory sleeps

M ' s Where emory sleep . (AFTER GIOVAN N I PASCOLI)

b T edtime , when the sunset fire was red d b One cypress turne to gold eneath its touch . ” t d Sleep now, my little son , the mo her sai ’ In God s high garden all the trees are such . Then did the child in his b right dream behold d d Branches of gol , trees , forests all of gol . A Sower

ITH sanguine looks And rolling walk Among the rooks

He loved to Stalk,

While on the land With gusty laugh From a full hand f He scattered chaf .

Now tha t within His spirit sleeps A harvest thin The sickle reaps

But the dumb fields

Desire his tread , An d no earth yields t A whea more red .

1 72 THE M OS S ROS E

Sh e s And flung her arm about him , and gave like a sister,

a nd And laughed at her own tears , wept again when he

kissed her .

SO the rose is mine long since , and whenever I find it And drink again the sharp sweet scent of the moss b ehind it ,

t h e I remember tears of a child , and her love and her

laughter, And the morning shadows of youth and the night that

fell thereafter . Ave , Soror

b d LEFT ehin the ways of care, d d The crow e hurrying hours , b d d d I reathe again the woo lan air, I plucked the woodland flowers

b e t b u t Blue ells as y half awake,

a nd Primroses pale cool , Anemones like stars that shake I n a green twilight pool

On these still lay the enchanted shade , The magic April sun With my own child a child I strayed

And thought the years were one .

AS through the copse she went and cam e My senses lost t heir truth I called her by the cl ear dead name w t That s eetened all my you h . To a River i n tbe Sou tlz

0 ALL me no more , gentle stream ,

To wander through thy sunny dream , No more to lean at twilight cool

b and A ove thy weir glimmering pool .

Surely I know thy hoary dawns ,

The silver crisp on all thy lawns , The softly swirling und ersong th w That rocks y reeds the inter long .

Surely I know the joys that ring Through the green deeps of leafy spring ; I know the e lfin cups and domes

That are their sm all and secret homes .

Yet is the light for ever lost d d That daily once thy mea ows crosse , The voice no more by thee is heard

d a nd b d That matche the song of stream ir .

Call me no more — thy waters 1 0 11 H ere , in the world that is my soul ,

And here , though E arth be drowned in night ,

s Old love hall dwell with old delight .

1 74

Midway

URN back , my Soul , no longer set

Thy peace upon the years to come , b d Turn ack, the lan of thy regret

n Holds nothing doubtful , nothi g dumb .

s There are the voices , there the scene That m ake thy life in living truth

a nd A tale of heroes of queens , t Fairer than all the hopes of you h . Ad Ma t r e m D olor osa m

’ HINK not thy lit tle fountain s rain

a nd That in the sunlight rose flashed ,

th e b l From right sky has fa len again , d d d To col and sha owy silence ashed . The Joy that in her radiance leapt

From everlasting hath not slept .

t th c The hand hat to y hand was lear, b d The untrou led eyes that mirrore thine, The Voice that gave thy soul to hear A whisper of the Love Divin e What though t h e gold was mixed with dust I

The gold is thine and cannot rust .

b d ’ Nor fear, ecause thy arling s heart

NO b longer eats with mortal life , That she has missed the en nobling part

and Of human growth human strife . Only she has th e eternal peace ’ Wherein to reap the soul s increase . Snow Wbite

HE children said , When Christ mas comes Then Lucy shall be dead An d laid upon a bier ” And we, they said , Will stand there in our places With dw a rfish hoods of red

Hiding our faces .

There she will be Wrapped in her golden hair l And very sti l , and we All stil l about her there

Not sad nor crying, But wondering what has com e To keep our Snow-White lying

SO pale and dumb .

0 play too b rave They in their childish art Knew not to whom they gave That unregarded part

1 78

Vrais Aman ts

(FOURTEE NTH CENTURY)

IME th e mocks y opening music with a clos . What now he gives long since he gave away

d e e m st bu t Thou thy sun hath risen , ere it rose ” th d a It was eclipsed , and dusk shall be y y .

Yet has the Dawn gone up in loveliest light She walks high heaven b eyond the shadow there Whom I too Veiled from all men ’s envious sight W ith inward eyes adore and sil ent prayer . Tbe Sang r e a l

NCE b d , when esi e me in that sacred place d I saw my lady lift her lovely hea , And saw the Chalice gleam above h e r fa c e d And her ear lips with life immortal red , b b Then , orn again eyond the mist of years,

- I knelt in Heaven , and drank the wine of tears . Sir Hugli tli e Palmer

E kneeled among a waste of sands M - d Before the other Mai , But on the far green forest -lands

His steadfast eyes were stayed , And like a knight of stone his hand s

He straightened while he prayed .

Lady , beyond all women fair, b Beyond all saints enign, Whose living heart through life I bear

In mystery divine , m Hear thou and grant me this y prayer,

Or grant no prayer of mine .

’ The fever of my spirit s pain Heal thou with heavenly scorn The dust that but of dust is fain Leave thou in dust forlorn Ye a bury love to rise again

n Meet for eternal mor .

1 8 2

1 84 S I R HUGH T HE PALMER

Azure and white is all his wear,

He hath no gold , I trow i - Wanderer, thou in the w ld wood there ,

e Tell us why sing v so 0

b No le ladies and lordings gay , Go d have you all in guard

e d Since y are please with me to play , M y riddle it is not hard .

I sing because , of all that ride , I am the least of worth m I sing because, to m atch y pride ,

Never was pride on earth .

e But , an y ask what that may mean , Thus do I answer then I b ear with m e the heart of a ! ueen I that am least of men

b h e r I ear heart till the end of all , Yea by her own comm and I b ear the heart of a ! ueen royal ” Unto the Holy Land .

Humbly there his crest he bent ,

Azure it waved and white , Haughtily there he turned a nd went

Singing, out of their sight .

L bu t vo i c e ong, long his they heard , A voice where none was seen , b b Singing lithe as a hidden ird , m A ong the forest green . Tb e P resen ta t ion

HEN in the womb of Time our souls ’ own son

Dear Love lay Sleeping till his natal hour, b Long months I knew not that sweet life egun , Too dimly treasuring thy touch of power ; And wandering all those days

- o ff By far ways , t Forgo immortal seed must have immortal flower .

b d b Only , elove , since my eloved thou art ’ I do b m remem er, now that emory s vain , How twice or thrice b eneath my b eating heart d dd Life quickene su enly with proudest pain . d I ’ Then dreame Love s increase , Yet held my peace

Till I might render thee thy own great gift again .

b d For as with o ies , SO with souls it is , d The greater gives , the lesser oth conceive

That thou hast fathered Love , I tell thee this , b b And by my pangs eseech t hee to elieve . Look on his hope d ivine Thy hope a n d mine d h im Pity his outstretched hands , ten erly receive Tbe In be r it a n ce

HILE I within her secret garden walked ,

The flowers , that in her presence must

dumb , - l With me, their fellow servant , soft y talked ,

O f Attending till the Flower flowers should come .

Then , since at Court I had arrived but late, I was by love m ade bold ’ To ask that of my lady s high estate

I might be told ,

And glories of her blood , perpetuate

In histories old .

Then they , who know the chronicle of Earth,

Spoke of her loveliness , that like a flame

— b Far handed down from noble birth to irth ,

Sh e Gladdened the world for ages ere came . ” ! ’ e a d Yea , y , they sai , from Summer s royal t Comes tha immortal line, And was create not for this age alone

n Nor wholly thi e, Being indeed a flower whose root is one

With Life Divine .

Am ore Alt iero

INCE thou and I have wandered from the highway And found with hearts reborn This swift and unimaginable byway

Unto the hills of morn , Shall not our love disd ain the unworthy uses Of the old tim e outworn I

’ I ll not entreat thy half unwilling graces t b Wi h hum ly folded palms , Nor seek t o shake thy proud defended places

With noise of vague alarms , Nor ask against my fortune ’s grim pursuing th The refuge of y arms .

Thou ’lt not withhold for pleasure vain and b That which has long een mine , Nor overheap with b riefly burning fuel

A fire of flame divine , ’ Nor yield the key for life s profaner voices b To rawl within the shrine .

1 8 8 AMORE ALTIE RO 1 89

But thou shalt tell me of th y queenly pleasure Al l that I must fulfil , ’ And I ll receive from out my royal treasure I What golden gifts will , So that two realms supreme and undisputed

b e i Shall one kingdom st ll .

An d our high hearts shall praise the beau ty hidden I n starry-minded scorn By the same Lord who hath His servants bidden To seek wit h eyes new -born This swift a nd u n imaginable byway

Unto the hills of morn . ’ Tbe Pedlar s Song

TRAMPED among the townward throng A sultry summer’s morn

They mocked m e loud , they mocked me long,

They laughed my pack to scorn . But a likely pedlar holds h is peace Until the reckoning ’s told M ’ m errily I to m arket went , tho songs were all y

At weary noon I left the town ,

I left the highway straight , b I clim ed the silent , sunlit down

And b stood y a castle gate . Never yet was a house too high When the pedlar ’s heart was b old M il ’ err y I to market went , tho songs were

A lady leaned from her window there And asked my wares to see

Her voice m ade rich the summer air, m Richer y soul in me .

She gave me only four little words , Words of a language old l m Merri y I from market came , for all y songs were

Love an d Gr i ef

a nd u b NE day , when Love S mmer oth were young, Love in a gard en found my lady weeping d Whereat , when he to kiss her woul have sprung, d I stayed his chil ish leaping .

b I -d a For ear, said , she is not thine to y Subdue thyself in silence to await her ; ’ If t hou dare call her from Death s side away

Thou art no Love , but traitor .

Yet did he run , and she his kiss received , ” d b She is twice mine, he crie , since she is trou led

b u t I knew half, and now I see her grieved ” My part in her is doubled . ’ Egeria s Silen ce

s ER thought that , like a brook be ide the way,

Sang to my steps through all the wandering year, — O ceased from melody Love, allay My sudden fear

She cannot fail- the beauty of that b row Could never flower above a desert heart

- Somewhere beneath , the well spring even now

Lives , though apart .

Some day, when winter has renewed her fount

- d n With cold , white fol ed snows and quiet rai , 0 0 Love , Love , her stream again will mount And sin g again True T/z om a s

n UEEN , when we kissed beneath the Eildo d I kisse for ever, tide me weal or woe road and narrow ways lay far b elow Among the fern you shook your b ridle free

w e d d We dared the dark , are the roaring sea, We rod e for Elfl a nd — ah how long ago

n Body and soul you have bee mine , I know .

o u Body and soul y have been sure of me .

Now com es the end— yet now when age shall cast Like withered leaves into the mouldering past ’ The Rhymer s heart, the lips that kissed and sang,

Still , still the Elfin soul of m e shall flame

TO find the land wherefrom your beauty came , b The road whereon that night your ridle rang .

Again s t Oblivion

ITIE S drowned in Olden tim e

e Keep , they say, a magic chim Rolling up from far below

- s When the moon led water flow .

SO m e within , ocean deep ,

Lies a sunken world asleep .

Lest its bells forget to ring, Mem ory se t th e tide a-swing Fond Counsel

UT - n YO H, beside thy silver springi g fountain , ’ th In sight and hearing of y father s cot ,

These and the morning woods , the lonely mountain , ’ th k no w st These are y peace , although thou it not . ’ Wander no t y e t where noon s unpityin g glare Beats down the toilers in th e city bare

o rsa k e F not yet , not yet , the homely plot ,

0 th - n Youth, beside y silver springing fountai . Yo u t b

n d I S so g of awn outsoars the joyful bird , Swift on the weary road his footfall comes The dusty air that by his stride is Stirred b Beats with a uoyant m arch of fairy drums . 0 ! b b Awake, Earth thine ancient slum er reak ; b To the new day , O slum rous E arth , awake O

b Yet long ago that merry march egan , His fee t are older than the path they tread

- His music is the morning song of m an , His stride the stride of all the valiant dead

His youngest hopes are memories , and his eyes

t o ld Deep wi h the , old dream that never dies .

Tbe Adven ture rs

VER the downs in sunlight clear Forth we went in the spring O fthe yea r ’ Plunder of April s gold we sought, ’ Little of April s anger thought .

Caught in a copse without defence Low we crouched to the rain -squall dense

ve x Sure , if misery m an can ,

T b s here it beat on our ended neck .

Yet when again we wander on Suddenly all that gloom is gone

Under and over through the wood ,

Life is astir, and life is good .

Violets purple , violets white,

w indfl o w e rs Delicate dancing light ,

Primrose, mercury, moscatel ,

Shimmer in diamonds round the dell .

i Squirrel is cl mbing swift and lithe, C ff- f hi chaf whetting his airy scythe ,

Woodpecker whirrs his rattling rap ,

a Ringdove flies with sudden clap . 200 T H E AD V E NT URE RS 20 1

b Rook is summoning rook to uild , b Dunnock his eak with moss has filled ,

o b - R bin is owing in coat tails brown ,

Tomtit chattering upside down .

Well is it seen that every one Laughs at the rain and loves the sun d We too laughed with the wil wood crew,

sk b Laughed till the y once more was lue .

Homeward over the downs we went Soaked to the heart with sweet content ; ’ April s anger is swift to fall , ’ s April wonder is worth it all . To Clare

(WITH A VOLUME OF STORIES FROM FROISSART)

Y CLARE ,

These tales were told , you know, d In French , five hundre years ago , ’ d By old Sir John , whose heart s elight

Was lady sweet and valiant knight . b A hundred years went y , and then d A great lor told the tales again , When bluff King Hal desired his folk

in' To read them the tongue they spoke .

' I m se lf n Last , y amo g them took a Wh t I loved best and made this book .

— Great , lesser, less these writers three

Worked for the days they could not see, e And cert s , in their work they knew d Nothing at all , dear chil , of you .

Yet is this book your own in truth, ’ b Because tis m ade for no le youth , And every word that ’s living there

are e Must die when Clares no more Clar .

2 T HE RE O F 04. TURN SUMMER

C o u e . Father y are perverse Sinc when , I beg, Have forest b irds b een tethered by th e leg I They ’re everyw here ! What more can you desire ’ The cuckoo shouts as though he d never tire, ’ The nuthatch , knowing that of noise you re fond , d Keeps chucking stones along a frozen pon ,

- s And busy gold crest, omewhere out of sight,

Works at his saw with all his tiny might .

- I do not count the ring doves or the rooks , We hear so much about them in the books They ’re hardly real but from where I sit fi - I see two chaf nches , a long tailed tit,

- a fll e A missel thrush , a y That will do

m a b I y have overlooked a ird or two . Wh ere are the biscuits I Are you getting cramp Down by the water there— it must be damp I ’ ’ C n n l b . I m o ly watchi g ti l your ottle s cool

s so s b It lie nug eneath this glassy pool, Like a sunk b attleship and overhead The water-boatmen get their daily bread

B d a y rowing all y long , and far below

Two little eels go winding, winding slow ’ Oh there s a shark A what I A miller ’s thumb ’ ’ h im Don t move , I ll tempt with a tiny crumb . H b ’ . Be quick a out it , please , and don t forget

I am at least as dry as he is wet . ’

C . Oh , very well then , here s your drink . T HE RETURN OF SUMME R 20 5 That ’s good I

I feel much better now .

I o u e xit u ie tl thought y would ( q y) . How beautiful the world is when it breathes The news of summer — when the bronzy Sheathes ll b - Sti hang about the eech leaf, and the oaks i Are wearing st ll their dainty tasselled cloaks , While on the hillsid e every hawthorn pale b l Has taken now her balmy ridal vei ,

And , down below , the drowsy murmuring stream d Lulls the warm noonday in an en less dream . 0 b little rook , far more thou art to me Than all the pageantry of field and tree ’ Es singe n wobl die Nixe n— ah tis truth ’ Tie f u nte n ibre n Re ib n — but only Youth an C hear them joyfully , as once I lay d ’ And heard them singing of the worl s highway , d Of wandering ende , and the maiden found , b - And golden bread y magic mill wheel ground . ll Lost is the magic now , the wheel is sti , And lo n g ago the maiden left the mill

Yet once a year, one day , when summer dawns ,

- The old , old murmur haunts the river lawns ,

a The f iries wake , the fairy song is sung, ’ And for an hour the wanderer s feet are young (be

doz e s ) . r u rn n o u e ( e t i g) Father I called y twic . I did not know Where have yo u b een I

Oh , down the stream . 2 06 THE RETU R N OF SUMMER

u Well , I went p . C ’ . I wish you d been with me .

II m m a b e . When East West, y daughter, that y .

20 8 D REAM -MARKET

o ne Where even flower falls , or one soft petal , d Next year shall see a hun red .

As i be tu rn to o e nte r i n bu ntin dre ss witb [ y g , LUCIA g ,

bow in ban d a nd a bou nd b be r side y . FLORA

rise s to me e t be r a n d re ca lls be r ma ide ns , . ]

Stay attend me .

be LUCIA . Greeting, fair ladies you , I think , must

o u Daughters of this green Earth, and one of y

The sweet Dam e Flora . R m FLO A . Your true servant , mada . But if m y memory be not newly withered

I have not known the pleasure .

o u LUCIA . Yes , y have seen me

o u At least , y might have seen m e I am Lucia ,

Lady of Moonlight , and I often hunt These downs of yours with all my nightly pack

- Of questing beams and velvet footed shadows .

a t FLORA . I fear night .

o u ! LUCIA . Oh , yes at night y are sleeping And I by d ay am always rather faint ’ So we don t meet bu t sometimes your good folk Have torn m y nets by raking in the water

b e And though their neigh ours laughed , there are wors way s

and Of spending time , far worse things to rake for

Than silver lights upon a crystal stream . M in M But come y royal Sire, the Man the oon He has been here I

R SO n FLO A . many ki gs come here , ’ ’ I c an t be sure I ve heard the Man in the Moon DREA M -MARKET 209

Did d once come own and ask his way to Norwich . But that was years agone— hundreds of years It may not b e t h e same— I do not know ’ t Your royal fa her s age . I LUCIA . His age Oh surely

can b He never e more than one month old .

’ A FLOR . Yet he s your father

LUCIA . Well , he is and is not

Pr o u dl I [ y] am the daughter of a million moons . b b They month y month and year y circling year, From their celestial palace looking down

d a - On your y wearied Earth, have soothed her sleep, d d d And rocke her tides , and ma e a magic worl

and t For all her lovers her nigh ingales .

NO b You owe them much , my ancestors . dou t, At times they suffered under clouds at times They were eclipsed yet in their brighter hours They were illustrious

FLORA . And may I hope t Your present Sire , his presen Serene Highness , I s in his brighter hours to -day I

LUCIA . Ah no . Be sure he is not— else I had not left M d d y cool , sweet gar en of unfa ing stars

d O f - For the rank mea ows this sun worn mould . b . is t I FLORA What your rou le, then

LUCIA . Although my father

b b u t Has een ten days reigning, he is sad t d t Wi h all the sa ness of a phan om realm ,

r And all the sorrows of ten thousand yea s. I S 2 1 0 DREAM - MARKET

Mo o nla nd We in our have no life like yours ,

NO b d t b u t d irth , no ea h we live in our reams And when they are grown Old— these mortal visions

— w e Of an immortal sleep seem to lose them . — f They are too strong for us , too self suf icient

To live for us they go their ways and leave us , b Like shadows grown su stantial .

FLORA . I have heard Something on earth not unlike this complaint ; But can I help yo u I

o u LUCIA . Lady , if y cannot ,

NO Mo o nla nd one can help . In there is famine,

We are losing all our dreams , and I come hither ’ b u To y a new one for my father s house .

bu I FLORA . To y a dream

LUCIA . Some little darling dream

b e t d a That will always wi h us , night and y,

Loving and teasing , sailing light of heart d Over our arkest deeps , reminding us

Of our lost childhood , playing our old games ,

o ld dd Singing our old songs , asking our ri les ,

Old o Building our old hopes , and with our gust Rehearsing for us in one endless act d The worl past and the world to be .

FLORA . Oh now

I see your meaning . Yes , I have indeed

P we lenty of such sweet dreams call them children .

o u r d b They are reams too , and though they are orn of us,

Truly in them we live . But , dearest lady,

We do not sell them .

2 1 2 D REAM -MARKET

I might look down when our great galleon sail s

Close over earth , and see them always here

Dancing upon the moonlit shores of night . But how to choose -and though they are young and fair

Their every grace foretells the fatal change ,

b r The swift short loom of girlhood , like a flowe

Passing away, for ever passing away .

Have you not one with petals tenderer yet , M ore deeply folded , further from the hour When the bud dies into the mortal rose I

ointin Tbe re m FLORA [p g] . is y youngest blossom and

my fairest , ’ But m y most wilful too— you ll pluck her not

Without some aid of magic .

b n LUCIA . Time has ee When I have known even your forest trees

O fm o o nla nd Sway to a song . I will try it .

Sbe sin s a nd da n ce s a w i tcbin me asu re [ g g . ]

SONG

a n a ir b N u blisbe d in y HE RY LAWES , p

T H E flowers that in thy garden rise ,

Fade and are gone when Summer flies , b And as their sweets y time decay,

b e So shall thy hopes cast away .

The Sun that gilds the creeping moss Stayeth not Earth’s eternal loss

He is the lord of all that live ,

Yet there is life he cannot give . D R EAM -MA RKET 2 1 3

The stir of Morning’s eager breath Beautiful Eve ’s impassioned death

Thou lovest these , thou lovest well ,

Yet of the Night thou canst not tell .

In every land thy feet m ay tread , Tirne like a ve il is round thy head x ’ Only t h e land t hou se e k st wi th me b Never hath een nor yet shall be .

It is not far, it is not near, Name it hath none that Earth can hear ; But there thy Soul shall build again M d t emories long es royed of men , And Joy thereby shall like a river

Wander from deep to deep for ever .

b [Wbe n sbe bas fin isbe d tbe c ild r u ns into be r a r ms ]

FLORA . Your spell has won her, and I m arvel not

She was but half our own .

To tbe Cbild [ ] Farewell , dear child , ’ o u Tis time to part , y with this lovely lady d To ance in silver halls , and gather stars And be the dream you are while we return

Old To the toil and harvest of the E arth . Farewell ! and farewell all

AL L . Farewell farewell

Exe u nt o mne s [ . of tbc Cbildr e n in P a la dor e

Al ado re Alado re O , to , Who goes the pilgrim way I Who goes with us to Al ado re Before the dawn of day I

O if we go the pilgrim w ay

Tell us , tell us true , How do they m ake t heir pilgrimage That walk the w ay with yo u I

0 you must make your pilgrimage B y noonday and by night ,

By seven years of the hard , hard road

And an hour of Starry light .

0 b d if we go y the har , hard road

Tell us , tell us true , What shall they find in Alado re That walk the way with you I

2 1 4

Tbe Cic alas An Idy ll

Sce ne : AN E N GLIS H GARDE N BY STAR LIGHT P e rsons : A LADY AN D A POET

T H E POET

IMLY I see your face I hear your breath

Sigh faintly , as a flower might sigh in death

bu t And when you whisper, you stir the air ’ With a soft hush like summer s own despair .

T H E LADY (a lou d) 0 Night divine , O Darkness ever blest,

Give to our old sad Earth eternal rest . t b bb Since from her hear all eauty e s away , Let her no more endure th e shame of day

T HE POET A thousand ages have not made less bright The stars that in this foun t ain shine to - night Your eyes in shadow still betray th e gleam

That every son of m an desires in dream .

2 1 6 T HE CICALAS : A N IDYLL 2 1 7

T H E LADY b Yes , hearts will urn when all the stars are cold And Beauty lingers — bu t her tale is told M t ankind has lef her for a game of toys ,

And fleets the golden hour with speed and noise .

T H E POET Think you the human heart no longer feels Because it loves the swift delight of wheels I

And is not Change our one true guide on earth , The surest hand that leads us from our birth I

T H E LADY d Change were not always loss , if we coul keep Beneath all change a clear and windless deep But more and more t h e tides that through us roll

b -b e d Distur the Very sea of the soul .

TH E POET The foam of transient passions cannot fret

-b e d ~ d The sea of the race , profoun er yet

a nd And there , where Greece her foundations b b Lies Beauty, uilt elow the tide of war .

T HE LADY

So — t to the desert , once in fif y years

m ad Some poor poet sings , and no one hears

Bu t t b t d wha ela e race , in what far clime , I Kee p s even a legend of Arcadian tim e 2 1 8 THE CICALAS : AN IDYLL

T H E POET

Not ours perhaps a nation still so young, ’ So late in Rom e s deserted orchard sprung,

Bears not as yet , but strikes a hopeful root

Till the soil yield its old Hesperian fruit .

T HE LADY I Is not the hour gone by The mystic strain ,

m a Degenerate once , y never spring again . What long- forsaken gods shall we invoke To grant such increase to our common oak I

T HE POET b Yet may the ilex, of more ancient irth , M d ore deeply plante in that genial earth , From her Italian wildwood even now b Revert , and ear once more the golden bough .

T H E LADY A poet ’s d ream was never yet less great Because it issued through the ivory gate d Show me one leaf from that old wood ivine ,

And all your ardour, all your hopes are mine .

T H E POET

May Venus bend me to no hard er task !

— — I a For Pan be praised hold the gift you sk . d The leaf, the legen , that your wish fulfils ,

O- b t b l s T day he rough m e from the Um rian hi l .

220 T H E CICALA 8 2 A N IDYL L

T H E POET

Lover of music , you at least should know

That these were men in ages long ago ,

— E re music was , and then the Muses came ,

And love of song took hold on them like flame .

THE LADY

Yes , I remember now the voice that speaks Most livin g still Of all the deathless Greeks

— Yet tell m e how they died divinely m ad , M And of the uses what reward they had .

T H E POET

They are reborn on earth , and from the first

They know not sleep , they hunger not nor thirst ’ Summer with glad Cicala s song they fill , M ’ Then die, and go to haunt the uses Hill .

T HE LADY They are reborn indeed a nd rightly yo u The far-heard echo of their music knew

o u Pray now to Pan , since y too , it would seem , ’ ae b Were there with Ph drus , y Ilissus stream .

T H E POET

e e Belov d Pan , and all y gods whose grace ’ - For ever haunts our short life s resting place ,

Outward and inward make me one true whole, And grant m e b eauty in the inmost soul TH E CICA LAS : A N IDYLL 22 1

T H E LADY

0 And thou , Night , O starry ! ueen of Air, Rememb er not my blind and faithless prayer | i Let me too live , let me too Sing aga n ,

Since Beauty wanders still the ways of men . Tbe Fa un

ESTERDAY I thought to roam d I ly through the fields of home , ’ And I came at morn ing s end b ’ l b To our rook s fami iar end .

There I raised my eyes , and there ,

Shining through an ampler air, Fold ed in by hills of blue

Such as Wessex never knew , Changed as in a waking d ream

- b Flowed the well remem ered Stream .

NOW a line of wattled pale

Fenced the downland from the vale, Now the sedge was set with reeds d Fitter for Arca ian meads , And where I was wont to find d d Only things of timi kin , Now the Geni u s of the pool M d ocke me from his corner cool .

h ad Eyes he with malice quick,

a - Tufted hair and ears prick, b And , a ove a tiny chin ,

a — Lips with laughter wide grin .

2 2 2

2 24 T HE FAU N Do you know that I can dive As d eep as any duck alive I Would you like to see me drop Out of yonder Willow’s top I

Sternly I replied again , You may spare your boasting vain All that yo u can do I did

When I was myself a kid . Laughter followed such as peal e d d d Through the first unfurrowe fiel .

Then what mother says is true , And your hoof is cloven too

— t Ah but that irreverent mir h ,

Learnt of the primeval earth , Surely was with magic fraught That upon my pulses wrought I too felt the air of June

Humming with a merry tune ,

I too reckoned , like a boy , Less of Time a n d more of Joy i d I d T ll , as homewar was wen ing, m b I perceived y ack unbending, And before the m ile was done m Ran beside y truant son . ’ r a s T Fidele s G .gy omb

i HE Squire sat propped in a p llowed chair,

His eyes were alive and clear of care, But well he knew th a t the hour was come

d -b e To bid goo y to his ancient home .

d He looked on gar en , wood , and hill ,

an d He looked on the lake , sunny still The last of earth t hat his eyes could see

Was the island church of Orchardleigh .

The last that his heart could understand Was th e touch of the tongue that licked his hand ” t Bury the dog at my fee , he said ,

And his voice dropped , and the Squire was dead .

d o b Now the g was a hound of the Danish reed , Staunch to love and strong at need He h a d d ragged his m aster safe to shore b When the tide was eb ing at Elsinore .

t From that day for h , as reason would , d d ” He was name Fi ele , and made it good When the last of t h e mourners left the door

d e Fi le was dead on the chantry floor .

1 6 2 2 5 ’ 2 26 FIDELE S G RASSY TOMB

’ b t They uried him there at his master s fee , And all that heard of it d eemed it meet

The story went the round for years , ’ Till it came at last to the Bishop s ears .

Bishop of Bath and Wells was he , Lord of the lord s of Orchardleigh And he wrote to the Parson t h e strongest screed d That Bishop m ay write or Parson rea .

The sum of it was that a soulless hound Was known to b e buried in hallowed ground From scand al sore the Church to save ’ d o They must take the g from his master s grave .

The heir was far in a foreign land , ’ The Parson was wax t o my Lord s command He sen t for the Sex ton and b ade him make b A lonely grave y the shore of the lake .

The Sexton sat by the water ’s brink Where he used to sit when he used to think

d b u t He reasone slow , he reasoned it out , b And his argument left him free from dou t .

” d t h e t o d A Bishop , he sai , is p of his tra e

’ But there s others can give him a Start wit h th e ‘ Spade

do Yon g , he carried the Squire ashore , ’ ’ t d And a Chris ian coul n t ha done no more .

Moonset

’ AST seven o clock t ime to b e gone ’ Twelfth - night s over and d awn shivering up

A hasty cut of the loaf, a steaming cup , C n Down to the door, and there is oachman Joh .

Ruddy of cheek is John and b right of e y e But John it appears has n one of your grins and winks

Civil enough , but short perhaps he thinks

d r Words come once in a mile, and always y .

Has he a mind or not I I wonder but soo n

We turn through a leafless wood , and there to the right, b Like a sun ewitched in alien realms of night , M n ellow and yellow and rounded hangs the moo .

b Strangely near she seems , and terri ly great The world is dead : why are we tra velling still I Nightmare silence grips my s truggling will

We are driving for ever and ever to find a gate .

2 2 8 MOON SET 2 2 9

o u When y come to consider the moon , says John t las ,

and d And stops , to feel his footing take his stan ’ ’ And then there s some will say there s never a hand That made the world d A flick, and the gates are passe .

dim Out of the magical moonlit park , Out to the workday road and wider skies ’ ’ There s a warm flush in the East where day s to rise, ’ ’ An d I m b feeling the etter for Coachman John s remark . A Song of E x m oor

w HE Forest above and the Combe belo , On a b right Septemb er morn ’ He s the soul of a clod who tha n ks not God That ever his body was born ’ SO hurry along, the stag s afoot , The Master ’s up and away Halloo Halloo we ’ll follow it through From Bratton to Porlock Bay

’ So bu rr alon tbc sta s a oot y g, g f , ’ Tbc M aste r s u p a n d a way ’ H a llo o H a lloo we ll f ollow it tbro ugb From Br a tton to P orlock Bay

’ Hark to the tufters challenge true , ’ Tis a note that the red -deer knows

His courage awakes , his covert he breaks , And up for the moor he goes ’ He s all his rights and seven on top , ’ His eye s the eye of a king, And he ’ll b eggar the pride of some that ride Be fo re he leaves the ling

2 30

Mas ter and Man

O y e ken hoo to fush for the salmon I ’ ’ If ye ll listen I ll tell ye . b Dinna trust to the ooks and their gammon , ‘ ’ b u They re t trying to sell ye . Leave professors to read their ain cackle And fush their ain style ’ ’ ’ o w i C me awa , sir, we ll oot oor tackle

b e b And usy the while .

’ ’ We e e th in kin I Tis a bit ower bright , y were ’ b e Aw , ye ll no the loser ; ’ ’ ’ Tis better ten b askin and blinkin ’ Than ane that s a cruiser . ’ If ye re bent , as I tak it, on slatter,

d ro o t Ye should pray for the , ’ ’ For the salmon s her ain when there s watter, ’ ’ 0 0 1 3 it s But she s when oot .

Ye ma u t fl e e - e y just p your book behind y , Ane hook wull b e plenty ’ m If they ll no come for this, y man , mind ye, ’ They ll no come for twenty .

2 32 MASTER A ND M A N 2 33

A bu t y, a rod the shorter the stranger And the nearer to strike For myself I prefa t e it nae langer

Than a yard or the like .

’ ’ ’ ’ c re e in Noo , ye ll stand awa back while I m p Wi’ my snoot i’ the gowans ’ ’ There s a bonny tw alve -p o o nd e r a -sle e pin ’ ’ I the shade o yon rowans . ’ ’ Ma n fe arin , man I was I d stirred her, But I ’ve got her the noo ’ Hoot fu sh in s as easy as m u rrd e r

When ye ken what to do .

’ ’ Na , na, sir, I doot na ye re willin But I canna permit ye ’ ’ ’ ’ For I m th in k in t hat yon kind 0 killin

d b e fit Wad har ly ye . ’ And d e e fli cu lt m some work is hushi , ’ There d b e havers a nd chaff ’ ’ Tw u ll b e b b est , sir, for you to e fushin ’ nd w i t h e ff A me ga , Gavot te

(OL D FRE N CH)

EMORI ES long in music sleeping,

No more sleeping, NO more dumb Delicate phantoms softly creeping b - Softly ack from the old world come .

ain t e st F odours around them straying, Suddenly straying In chamb ers dim

Whispering silks in order swaying, Glimmering gems on should ers slim

C ourage advancing Strong and tender, Grace untender Fanning desire

Suppliant conquest , proud surrender, Courtesy cold of hearts on fire

i b ’ W llowy illowy now they re bending, ’ Low they re b end in g Down -dropt eyes

Stately measure and stately ending, M s s. usic obbing, and a dream that die

2 34

IMOGE N

e Pluck y never so fast at pleasure ,

Twilight follows the longest noon .

b u t Nay , here is a lasting boon ,

and Life for hearts that are old chill , Youth undying for hearts that treasure

d n i Imogen a cing , dancing st ll . N e l Mez z o D e l Cammin

HI SPER it not that late in years

Sorrow shall fade and the world be brighter,

Life be freed of tremor and tears ,

b e Heads wiser and hearts be lighter .

bu t th e Ah dream that all endears , The dream we sell for your pottage of truth

Give us again the passion of youth ,

d a nd W d b e b Sorrow shall fa e the orl righter . Tbe In v a si on

I t PR NG, hey say , with his greenery t t Nor hward m arches at las , Mus t ering thorn a nd elm ;

Breezes rumour him conquering, Tell how Victory Sits

High on his glancing helm .

Smit with sting of his archery , Hard es t ashes and oaks Burn at t h e root b elow f d Primrose , violet , daf o il , Start like blood where the shafts

t d b o w Ligh from his gol en .

Here where winter Oppresses us t b S ill we listen and dou t , Dr e ading a hope betrayed

t o b e t Sore we long gree ing him , Still we linger an d doub t Wha t if his march b e stayed I

2 38

RASSHOPPERS a -fiddlin t four g wen , Heigh-h o never be still

They earned but little towards their rent , But all day long with their elbows bent

d Rillo b — rillo b They fid led a tune called y y,

a Rillo b - Fiddled tune called y rill .

Grasshoppers soon on Fairies came , Heigh -h o never b e still t b Fairies asked wi h a manner of lame , I Where do you come from , what Is you r name What do you want with your Rillo by — rillo by What do yo u want with your Rillo by- rill I

M o u adam , you see before y stand , Heigh-h o never b e s t ill ! The Old Original Favourit e Grand G ’ b rasshopper s Green Her arian Band ,

th e Rillo b -rillo b And tune we play is y y , ” M Rillo b — adam , the tune is y rill . 2 4 0 RI L L OB Y- RILL 24 I

’ d Fairies hadn t a wor to say, Heigh —h o never b e s t ill

d m b d a Fairies sel o are sweet y y ,

dd e But the Grasshoppers merrily fi l d away ,

0 bu t t b — rillo b hey played with a willo y y , O b u t they played with a willoby -will !

m b a nd Fairies slu er sulk at noon , Heigh — h o never b e still But at last the kind o ld motherly moon l Brought them dew in a si ver spoon ,

e d Rillo b -rillo b And th y turne to ask for y y ,

Rillo b - One more round of y rill .

b u t b d Ah no o y now replied , Heigh-h o never b e still

d a d When y went down the music ied , b d Grasshoppers four lay side y si e ,

And e nd t Rillo b -rillo b there was an of heir y y,

Rillo b - l There was an end of their y ri l . Pe r e u n t E t I mp u ta n t u r

(AFTER MARTIAL)

ERNARD , if to you and me Fortune all at once should give

t o d a nd Years spen secure free , t Wi h the choice of how to live,

Tell me , what should we proclaim Life deserving of the name I

Winning some one else ’ s case I Saving some one else ’s seat I Hearing with a solemn face People of import ance bleat I t d l No , I hink we shoul not sti l ’ l Waste our time at Others wi l .

b Summer noons eneath the limes , d Summer ri es at evening cool , ’ t a n d - d Win er s tales home ma e rhymes, Figures on the froz e n pool

w e b These would for la ours take,

n d o ft b A hese our usiness make .

Felix An ton ius

(AFTER MARTIAL)

O- -five DAY, my friend is seventy ; He tells his tale with no regre t

b Old His rave eyes are steadfast yet,

e His heart the lightest heart aliv .

He sees b ehind him green and wide The pathway O fhis pilgrim years

s He sees the shore, and dreadless hear

The whisper of the creeping tide .

For out of all his days , not one Has passed and left its unlaid ghost

To seek a light for ever lost,

Or wail a deed for ever done .

So for reward of life -long truth

He lives again, as good men can , Redoubling his allotted span t Wi h memories of a stainless youth . ’ r an d r e l a n a I el , I

OWN thy valleys , Ireland , Ireland ,

Down thy valleys green and sad ,

Still thy spirit wanders wailing,

Wanders wailing, wanders mad .

t Long ago tha anguish took thee , I d I relan , reland , green and fair, d Spoilers strong in arkness took thee ,

Broke thy heart and left thee there .

Down thy valleys , Ireland , Ireland , Still thy spirit wanders mad

All too late they love that wronged thee,

d n Ireland , Irelan , gree and sad . I Iy m n

I N THE TIME OF WA R AN D TUM ULTS

l s LORD A mighty , Thou whose hand Despair a n d victory give

In whom , though tyrants tread their lands, The souls of na t ions live

Thou wilt not turn Th y face away t From hose who work Thy will ,

But send Thy peace on hearts that pray, Th And guard y people still .

b Remem er not the days of shame ,

The hands with rapine dyed ,

t h e b The wavering will , aser aim , The b rute material prid e

b Remem er, Lord , the years of faith, b b The spirits hum ly rave , d d The strength that ie defying death, The love that loved the slave 2 46

Tbe Building of t be Temple

(AN ANTHEM HEARD I N CANTERBURY CATHEDRA L)

Tbe Or a n g .

LORD our God , we are strangers before Thee ,

a n d sojourners , as were all our fathers our days

t d and b on the ear h are as a sha ow, there is none a iding .

O Lord God of our fathers , keep this for ever in the t Th imagina ion of the thoughts of y people , and prepare t their hear unto Thee . And give unto Solomon my son a perfect heart to keep t Thy commandmen s , and to build the palace for the which I have made provision .

’ Bo s voice s y .

t h e O come to Palace of Life , b i it Let us u ld again . d d t It was foun e on error and strife , I t b was laid in the curse of the wom ,

And d pillare on toil and pain , t d And hung wi h veils of oom , And vaul t ed w ith t h e darkness of the

34 8 THE BUILDI N G OF THE TEMPLE 249

’ M n s o ice s e v .

Go d d a O Lord our , we are sojourners here for a y ,

t e a n d e S rang rs sojourners , as all our fathers w re Our years on the ear th are a shadow t ha t fade t h away t b Grant us ligh for our la our, and a time for prayer .

But now with endless song , And joy fulfilling the Law ; Of passion as pure as strong An d pleasure u ndirnm e d of awe With garners of wine and grain d Lai up for the ages long, Let us build th e Palace again

And t d n enter wi h en less so g ,

and d Enter well secure, forgetting years

of wrong .

M n e .

0 Lord our God , we are strangers and sojourners here ,

Our beginning was night , and our end is hid in Thee b Our la our on the earth is hope redeeming fear, b In sorrow we uild for the days we shall not see .

Bo s y .

Great - is the name l Of the strong and ski led , Lasting the fame Of th e m that build 2 50 T H E BUILDI N G O F T H E TEMPLE The tongues of many nations

Shall speak of our praise , And far generations

Be glad for our days .

M n e .

t We are sojourners here as all our fa hers were,

o u r i b e t a nd As all ch ldren shall , forge ting forgot

The fame of man is a murmur that passeth on the air,

We perish indeed if Thou remember not .

We are sojourners here as all our fathers were , Strangers travelling down to the land of d eath t There is neither work nor device nor knowledge here , 0 b grant us might for our la our, and to rest in faith .

Bo s y .

o In joy , in the jy of the light to be,

M e n .

0 Father of Lights , unvarying and true,

Bo s y .

Let us build the Palace of Life anew .

M e n .

l Let us build for the years we shal not see .

Bo s y .

Lofty of line and glorious of hue,

i e With gold and pearl and w th the cedar tre ,

To COLONEL F RA N CIS EDWARD YOUN G HUS BA N D

b CROSS the Western World , the Ara ian Sea , d d The Hun red King oms and the Rivers Three ,

Him é la an Beyond the rampart of y snows ,

th e And up road that only Rumour knows , b Unchecked , old friend , from Devon to Thi et , M Friendship and emory dog your footsteps yet .

Let not the scornful ask me what avail s SO small a pack to follow mighty trails Long since I saw what difference must be

Between a stream like you , a ditch like me . This drains a garden and a homely field Which scarce at times a living current yield The other from the high lands of his birth Plunges through rocks and spurns the pastoral Then settling silent to his deeper course

Draws in his fellows to augment his force ,

Becomes a name , and broadening as he goes , ’ Gives power and purity where er he flows , ll Ti , great enough for any commerce grown ,

o w n He links all nations while he serves his . 2 5 2 EPISTLE 2 5 3

d Sol ier, explorer, statesman , what in truth Have you in common with homek e eping youth I You t h comes your answer like an echo faint ;

And you t h it was that m ade us first acquaint . DO you rememb er when the Downs were white t M d b Wi h the arch ust from highways glaring right ,

an d I t h e How you , like yachts that toss foam , From Pe np o l e Fields came stride and stride for home I

Oh e grimly leading, one intent to pass , Mil d e after mile we measure road and grass , d Twin silent sha ows , till the hour was done,

The shadows parted and the stouter won . Since then I know one thing b eyond appeal

t rim b u ilt How runs from stem to stern a keel . ’ — b u t Another day that s not mine to tell , The man in front does not observe so well

five - - Though, spite of all these and twenty years ,

as As clear life our schoolday scene appears . d b The guarde course , the arriers and the rope ;

bu t The runners , stripped of all shivering hope ; The starter ’s good grey head the sudden hush The stern white line t h e half-unconscious rush b The deadly end , the pivot of our fate The rope again the long green level straight d The lane of hea s , the cheering half unheard ’ The dying spurt , the tape , the judge s word .

b ’ You , too , I dou t not , from your Lama s hall

t b Old l Can see the S and a ove the worn wa l , 2 54 EPISTLE

d Where then they clamoure as our race we sped , b d l Where now they num er our heroic ead .

As clear as life you , too , can hear the sound

b -u b d Of voices once for all y lock p oun , And see the flash of eyes still nobly bright

Bi sid e But in the g scrimmage lost to sight .

o ld Old loves , rivalries , old happy times , These well m ay move your memory and my rhymes

b u t These are the Past there is that , my friend ,

Between us two , that has nor time nor end . Though wide apart the lines our fate has t raced b Since those far shadows of our oyhood raced , I n the dim region all men must explore d ’ b b The min s Thi et , where none has gone efore Round ing some shoulder of the lonely trail

We met once more, and raised a lusty hail .

d Forwar cried one , for us no beaten track, t b No city con inuing, no turning ack b The past we love not for its eing past , But for its hope an d ardour forward cast The victories of our you t h we count for gain

b a t Only ec use hey steeled our hearts to pain , And hold no longer even Clifton great

i ta Save as she schooled our w lls to serve the S te .

1 th e a t t th e te I e l gl Cl , n schoo quadran if on si from which , upon th e t e to e th e e e occasion , grand s and us d ov rlook Clos , is now occupi d by th e M e morial to thos e Cli fto nians who fe ll in th e South African

War .

An E ssay on Crit ic ism

I S hard to say if greater waste of tim e Is seen in Writing or in reading rhyme l But , of the two , ess dangerous it appears ’ h a To tire ou r own t n poison others ears .

O f t Time was , the owner a peevish ongue , bb The pe le of his wrath unheeding flung,

Saw the faint ripples touch the shore and cease,

And in the duckpond all again was peace . But since that Science on our eyes hath laid

The wondrous clay from her own spittle m ade,

We see the widening ripples pass beyond , d The pond becomes the world , the worl a pond , t b bb All e her trem les when the pe le falls , t And a light word m ay ring in s arry halls . When first on earth the swift iambic ran

Me n d b u t Man here and there were foun nowhere . ’ From whencesoe er their origin they drew,

Each on its separate soil the species grew, b And y selection , natural or not , b Evolved a fond e lief in one small spot .

Th e m Greek hi self, with all his wisdom , took

d lE e an n For the wide worl his bright g ook,

2 5 6 A N ESSAY ON CRITICISM 2 5 7

d b For fatherlan , a town , for pu lic , all Who at one t im e could h e ar t h e herald bawl For him b arb arians b eyond his gate

b e d ffe e d t Were lower ings , of a i r nt a e t t d He never hough on such to spen his rhymes ,

And did t d th e Tim e s if he , hey never rea .

d t and t t Now all is change , on his Side on ha , ’ The Herald s learned to print a nd pass the hat t His tone is so much raised hat , far or near, d All with a sou to spen his news m ay hear,

And b u t ff d who , far or near, the sou a or s To learn th e worst O fforeigners a n d lords ’ P t So comes the ressman s heaven on ear h , wherein One touch of hatred proves the whole world kin

th e b t Our rulers are es , and theirs the worst ,

and Our cause is always just theirs accurst ,

Our troops are heroes , hirelings theirs or slaves ,

d bu t b u t Our iplomats children , theirs knaves , P d Our ress for independence justly prize , b d b Theirs bought or lind , inspire or su sidized . For the world ’s progress what was ever made I Like to our tongue , our Empire and our trade ’d So chant the nations , till at last you think ’ Me n could no nearer howl to folly s brink Yet some in E ngland lately won renown

rd b u t de By howling wo for word , upsi down .

But where , you cry, could poets find a place (Ifpoets we possessed) in this disgrace I

I 8 2 5 8 AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM

l b e M l b e Mai s will ai s , Reviews must reviews , But why the Critic with the Bard confuse I l A as Apollo , it must be confessed

Has lately gone the way of all the rest . No more alone upon the far-o ffhills

With song serene the wilderness he fills , But in the forum now his art employs

An d what he lacks in knowledge gives in noise . b At first , ere he egan to feel his feet , b d He egge a corner in the hindmost sheet ,

C la oncealed with Answers and Acrostics y ,

And held aloof from ! uestions of the Day .

But now , grown bold , he dashes to the front ’ b t Among the leaders bears the attle s brun , d Takes steel in hand , and cheaply unafrai ’ Spurs a lame Pegasus on Jameson s Raid , Or pipes the fleet in melodram a ’s tones

To ram the Damned on their Infernal Thrones .

Sc rible ru s m d Sure , hi self could scarce have guesse The Art of Sinking might b e further pressed But while these errors almost tragic loom

The Indian Drummer has but raised a boom . So well I love my country that the man Who serves her can but serve her on my plan

b e b Be slim , stalky , leave your Pu lic Schools To muffs like Bob s and other fl an n e lle d fools Th e lo rdlie st life (since Buller made such hay) Is killing men two t housand yards away ;

2 60 AN ES SAY ON CRITICISM

- d a nd b The secret Jungle life of chil east,

An d all the magic of the dreaming East .

e e t a nd l Thes , th se we loved wi h you , loved sti l more ’ t b The Seven Seas hat reak on Britain s shore ,

d t b The win s tha know her la our and her pride , d And the Long Trail whereon our fathers ied .

’ I n b e d that Day s Work sure you gained , my frien , If ’ not the critic s name , at least his end Your song and story might have roused a slave b d b To see life o ily and see it rave . With voice so genial and so long of reach d To your Own People you the Law coul preach , And even now and then Without offence d To Lesser Bree s expose their lack of sense .

Return , return and let us hear again

- The ringing engines and the deep sea rain , ’ ri — The roaring cha ty of the shore Wind s verse ,

TOO b ff b lu to icker and too strong to curse . Let us again with hearts serene b ehold The coastwise b eacons that we knew of old d So Shall you guide us when the stars are veile ,

a And stand mong the Lights that never Failed . N os Tbe Le By ron de fours ; or, E ng lisb Bar and Cross Reviewers

TILL must I hear I— while Aus t in prints his verse ’ ’ And t Co r e lli s Sa an s sorrows fill purse,

M n o t K C ust I write lest haply some . . To flatter Tennyson Should sneer a t m e I Or mus t t h e Angels of the Darker I n k NO longer tell the pu blic what to think Must lectures an d reviewing all b e stayed ’ Until they re licensed by the Board of Trade I ’ Prepare for rhyme— I ll risk it— bite or bark ’ I ll th e stop press for neither Gosse nor Clarke .

t b O spor most no le , when two cocks engage With equal blindness and with equal rage ’ When each , intent to pick the other s eye ,

t h e i Sees not feathers from h mself that fly , ’ And d b , fire to scorch his rival s every one , Ignores the inward heat that grills his own

t - d - t d - Un il self plucke , self Spit e and self roast , m t Each to the other serves hi self on toas .

’ b u t M But stay , Stay , you ve pitched the key, my use, A semi- tone too low for great Reviews

2 6 1 2 62 LE BYRON DE N OS J OURS

’ Such penny whistling suits the cockpit s hum, ’ b But here s a scene deserves the iggest drum .

Behold where high above the clamorous town The vast Cathedral-towers in peace look down ’ Hark to the entering crowd s incessant tread b t They ring heir hom age to the mighty dead . Who in silk gown and fullest - bottomed wig I Approaches yonder, with emotion big Room for Sir Edward now we shall be told

Which shrines are tin , which silver and which gold . ’ Tis done and now by life -long habit bound He turns to prosecute the crowd around

I ro con ndicts and pleads , sums up the p and , b The verdict finds and puts the lack cap on .

’ d a Prisoners , attend of ! ueen Victoria s y

I am the Glory , you are the Decay .

You cannot think like Tennyson deceased ,

You do not sing like Browning in the least .

Of Tennyson I sanction every word , Browning I cut to something like one — third

Though , mind you this , immoral he is not ,

- l b e Still quite two thirds I hope wi l forgot . He was to poetry a Tom Carlyle

And that reminds me , Thomas too was vile . ’ He wrote a life or two , but parts , I m sure ,

Compared with other parts are very poor .

2 64 LE BYRON DE N o s J OURS

d d t b u t Sir E war urns to go , as he wends , t d One swift irrelevant re ort he sen s . b Your logic and your taste I oth disdain , ’ d M You ve quote wrong from Jonson and ontaigne .

and The shaft goes home , somewhere in the rear

Birrell in smallest print is heard to cheer .

’ And yet— and yet— conviction s not complete

M t h e There was a time when ilton walked street , And Shakespeare singing in a tavern dark

d n o t d d Woul have much impresse Sir E ward Clarke . ’ b e — a To alive y there s the damning thing , ’ For who will b u y a b ird that s on the wing I t ff Catch , kill and s u the creature , once for all, ’ And he m ay yet adorn Sir Edward s hall But while he ’s free to go his own wild way ’ b He s not so safe as irds of yesterday .

— I In fine , if I must choose although see ’ That both are wrong— Great Gosse I d rather b e A critic suckled in an age outworn

b d -d Than a lin horse that starves knee eep in corn .

N OT E - T h e e t e e Th e M onth l for going parody, which firs app ar d in y R e vi e w e e tte t to e te som y ars ago , was an a mp sum up and comm mora

te th e . n S t t e e l ss O gh , N v b 1 5 a i rary discu ion of day a urday ni o m r , ’ 1 0 2 at th e W n M e e e e t 1 9 , k g C ll g , G O St e e t 5 1 E or i n s o r a rmond r , dward

e K C . e e e e T h e G D e o n n lish Clark , , d liv r d an addr ss on lory and cay g

L te tu e th e Re V t . Sir E w e i ra r in ign of ic oria d ard Clark , who e t e i e t th t h e e t e a t th t e m n ion d inc d n ally a l c ur d e coll e ge for y y ars ago , said that the r e w as a ris e from th e b e ginning of that r e ign to th e p e riod LE BYRON DE n o s J OURS 2 65

1 8 0 — 60 th t th e l tte te th e e h a d b e e ve t ge 5 , and a from a r da r n a ry s ran t to th e e n d th e e h e t t l e bl e e l e g , l , h h b e and am n a d c in of r i n wou d oug , t e t e th amply de mons trate d . A glorious g alaxy of al n adorn d e ye ars — tw e t t 1 8 0 60 . T e e e e tw o e t e t o e tw o 5 h r w r gr a po s , gr a nov lis s , and T h e tw o e t e t e e e T e gre at his torians . gr a po s w r Alfr d nnyson and h t t t Robe rt Browning . T e firs nam e d would always s and a th e h e ad T of th e li te ra tur e of th e Vic torian p e riod . h e r e was no poe t in th e whol e cours e of our his tory whos e works w e r e mor e like ly to live as a e te e t h e t e e n o t e e compl whol han , and h r was a lin which his fri nds

tt t . e t B n t would Wish to s e e blo e d o u Rob r rowni g was a po e of s trange ine quali ty an d of e xtraordin ary and fan tas tic m e thods in his com e t . H e e o n e e j on e posi ion ow v r much could n oy som of his works , could only hop e that tw o -thirds of th e m would b e as promp tly as assrb l e tte — n o t e e je t to t p forgo n , how v r , from any moral ob c ion wha

t e th e e e t . L e S h e w ro e . H was Carlyl of po ry By his iv s of chill e r an d S te e e t t h e c ou ld te e t r e rling , Carlyl show d ha wri b au iful and pu E l h b u t th t h e sh l e e to th e s t l e s e h l te ng is , a ou d d sc nd y of om of is a r works was a me lancholy e xampl e of misdir e cte d e n e rg y . Charl e s Dicke ns was p e rhaps th e mos t e xtraordinary g e nius of thos e who had e nde avour e d to d e al with fiction as illus trative of th e actual e xpe ri e nc e s t e t e e t th e e t e T l e . W h D k s h g g h ke of if i ic n r s ood r a fi ur of ac ray, who t t e t e e t e t l e e ll b ks , v l h l b u t had f a gr a co c ion of oo ry un qua in ir qua i y, con tai ning amongs t th e m som e of th e fine s t things e v e r wri tte n in th e

E t e . T h e tw o e t t e e M an d nglish ongu gr a his orians w r acaulay Froude . - . W T o day w e had no gr e at nove lis ts ould anyon e sugge s t w e had a te th e e 1 8 60 t e e tw poe t (L augh te r . ) Af r y ar h r we r e o gr e at name s — in po e try th e tw o Ross e ttis . T h e r e had b e e n no book produc e d in th e las t te n y e ars which could comp e te with any o n e of th e books pro d u c e d from 1 8 5 0 to e e e t T o this Mr . Edmund Goss e r pli e d a w k la e r a t th e Dinne r of e th e Encyclop ae dia Bri tannica . H e r minde d his audi e nc e that e ve n th e mos t p e rspicuous p e opl e in pas t tim e s had mad e th e grosse s t blun de rs wh e n th e y judge d th e ir own a ge . L e t th e m r e me mb e r th e e t M t e to th e e t te a ins nsibili y of on aign m ri s of all his con mpor ri e s . th e e t a e t e t B e n t In n x g , and in h ir own coun ry, Jonson ook occasion at th e ve e t h e S ke s e e g h s t e e e ry mom n w n ha p ar was producin i mas rpi c s ,

e t th e t t e e t E . We to lam n o al d cay of po ry in ng land could n o t se e th e t e e th e e t e b u t w e t to b e e t t e r s for wood b hind h m , ough confid n h y w e r e growing all th e tim e . t to th e Mr . Goss e also wro e e s s on b e half of th e Profe ssion L e tte e Sir E th e e S e of rs , r minding dward of nam s of winburn and W M H Ste e e t ll s , v s , C gh G i e i iam orri ardy and n on r i on and ard n r, and asking what would b e th e fe e lin gs of th e l e arne d ge n tl e man if Me r e dit h or L e sli e S te ph e n (of whos e e xis te nc e h e was p e rhaps un awar e ) u t th e e t W a e e t w e e should p qu s ion in public , ould nyon sugg s hav an Advocate

Sir E e d e r di t n t t Mr . dward , in his r join , had no fficul y in showi g ha 266 LE BYRO N DE N OS J OURS

’ e t t M t e n o t Go ss s ci a ion of on aign and Jonson was ve rbally e xact. t Mr . Birr e ll add e d some comme n s which w e r e dis tingu ishe d by be ing printe d in type O f a mark e dly d fe r e nt si z e .

i f ' T o th e t t e e e th e t e e so t l au hor of h s lin s , con rov rsy app ars ypica e to e t t h e e e to e e e t and so lik ly aris again , ha d sir s r cord, in how v r sligh e t Of it o wn e h lle , l , a form , is r co c ion and his p rsona bias which is in no de gr e e l e sse ne d by r e consi de ration afte r te n ye ars .

2 68 NOTES

f th Se rvic e Ord e r . O e thr e e hun dr e d Cli fto nian s who s e rve d in th e S t t t e e e t u te e e war in ou h Africa , hir y w r kill d in ac ion and fo r n di d of wounds or fe v e r .

t e e e t e e th e l Clif on , r m mb r h s y sons who f l Fighting far ov e r se a For the y in a dark hour r e me mbe r e d we ll ! T h e ir w arfar e l e arne d of th e e .

M e t e e e th e G e t War e 00 or han hav s rv d in r a , of whom ov r 5

e . T e have b e e n kill e d in four y ars h ir hono u rs ar e pas t count .

From th e gr e at Marshal to th e las t r e cruit T e e t e e th th t h , Cl , e l , e e s if on w r y s f y spiri in d d , T h fl e th e t y ow r of chivalry , y fall n frui , ” An d thin e immor tal s e e d .

Th e E ch o — T h e l T h e T w a S te O f Binno rie s t bal ad was is rs , as e by Arthur So m e rv e ll . — T t S rcih m a n dciz i . his ballad is foun d e d on ma e rials give n to th e author by th e late Miss Mary Kingsl e y on h e r r e turn from h e r las t

t to th e t e e We t . T h e so n n e t e e visi Ban u p opl s of s Africa g , as d scrib d h e r e e e a e e fi sh in -n e t e e b by , r s mbl s long pi c of g fold d , and is carri d y e e e e th e Songman ove r his shoulde r . Wh n op n d and laid b for e an ’ e i t e e to t t e — e e , k h l audi nc is s n con ain o ns suc as a opard s paw, a ’ e e t r e fi sh — e to th e e e child s hair , a n ckl , or a d i d s wn firmly m sh s of ’ T e e e to th e So n th e n e t . h s form a kind of symbolical ind x gm an s re p e rtory : th e audi e nc e mak e th e ir choic e by laying a hand upon h t th e t e t any toke n which app e ars d e sirabl e . T e las of ok ns is ha t which r e pr e s e nts th e Song of Dying or Song of Srah m an d az i . I t is e le e e O f t e e z e its t a shap ss pi c any subs anc , and is r cogni d only by posi ion in th e n e t . T h e e te e to th e e e e song, b ing unin lligibl living , is n v r ask d for un til th e mom e n t O f d e ath .

P ri nte d b H z ll Wats n d: Vm e L L n n and A le bu r E n lan d . a e o d o d o s . y , y , y y g

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