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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16950-8.txt b/16950-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ecf4d5f --- /dev/null +++ b/16950-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9780 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and +Other Poems, by Christina Rossetti + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems + +Author: Christina Rossetti + +Release Date: October 26, 2005 [EBook #16950] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOBLIN MARKET *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly. + + + + + +The World's Classics + +CLXXXIV + + + +Goblin Market +The Prince's Progress +And other poems + +By + +Christina Rossetti + + +Humphrey Milford +Oxford University Press +London, Edinburgh, Glasgow +New York, Toronto, Melbourne & Bombay + + + +Christina Georgina Rossetti + +Born, 38 Charlotte Street, Portland Place, London, December 5, 1830 +Died, 30 Torrington Square, London, December 29, 1894 + +'Goblin Market and other Poems' was first published in 1862, +'The Prince's Progress and other Poems' was first published in 1866. +In 'The World's Classics' the contents of these two books, together +with other poems, were first published in one volume in 1913. + + + + + To + MY MOTHER + In all reverence and love + I inscribe this book + + + + +CONTENTS + +GOBLIN MARKET, AND OTHER POEMS, 1862 + + Goblin Market + In the Round Tower at Jhansi, June 8, 1857 + Dream Land + At Home + A Triad + Love from the North + Winter Rain + Cousin Kate + Noble Sisters + Spring + The Lambs of Grasmere, 1860 + A Birthday + Remember + After Death + An End + My Dream + Song ('Oh roses for the flush of youth') + The Hour and the Ghost + A Summer Wish + An Apple Gathering + Song ('Two doves upon the selfsame branch') + Maude Clare + Echo + My Secret + Another Spring + A Peal of Bells + Fata Morgana + 'No, Thank you, John' + May + A Pause of Thought + Twilight Calm + Wife to Husband + Three Seasons + Mirage + Shut out + Sound Sleep + Song ('She sat and sang alway') + Song ('When I am dead, my dearest') + Dead before Death + Bitter for Sweet + Sister Maude + Rest + The First Spring Day + The Convent Threshold + Up-hill + + DEVOTIONAL PIECES + 'The Love of Christ which passeth Knowledge' + 'A Bruised Reed shall He not Break' + A Better Resurrection + Advent + The Three Enemies + The One Certainty + Christian and Jew + Sweet Death + Symbols + 'Consider the Lilies of the Field' + The World + A Testimony + Sleep at Sea + From House to Home + Old and New Year Ditties: No. I + No. II + No. III + Amen + +THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS, AND OTHER POEMS, 1866 + + The Prince's Progress + Maiden-Song + Jessie Cameron + Spring Quiet + The Poor Ghost + A Portrait + Dream-Love + Twice + Songs in a Cornfield + A Year's Windfalls + The Queen of Hearts + One Day + A Bird's-Eye View + Light Love + A Dream + A Ring Posy + Beauty is Vain + Lady Maggie + What would I give? + The Bourne + Summer + Autumn + The Ghost's Petition + Memory + A Royal Princess + Shall I Forget? + Vanity of Vanities + L. E. L. + Life and Death + Bird or Beast? + Eve + Grown and Flown + A Farm Walk + Somewhere or Other + A Chill + Child's Talk in April + Gone for Ever + Under the Rose + + DEVOTIONAL PIECES + Despised and Rejected + Long Barren + If only + Dost thou not Care? + Weary in Well-doing + Martyrs' Song + After this the Judgement + Good Friday + The Lowest Place + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 1848-69 + + Death's Chill Between + Heart's Chill Between + Repining + Sit Down in the Lowest Room + My Friend + Last Night + Consider + Helen Grey + 'By the Waters of Babylon' + Seasons + Mother Country + A Smile and a Sigh + Dead Hope + Autumn Violets + 'They Desire a Better Country' + The Offering of the New Law + Conference between Christ, the Saints, and the Soul + 'Come unto Me' + 'Jesus, do I Love Thee?' + 'I know you not' + 'Before the Paling of the Stars' + Easter Even + Paradise: in a Dream + Within the Veil + Paradise: in a Symbol + Amor Mundi + Who shall deliver Me? + If + Twilight Night + + + + +GOBLIN MARKET, AND OTHER POEMS, 1862 + + + + +GOBLIN MARKET + + +Morning and evening +Maids heard the goblins cry: +'Come buy our orchard fruits, +Come buy, come buy: +Apples and quinces, +Lemons and oranges, +Plump unpecked cherries, +Melons and raspberries, +Bloom-down-cheeked peaches, +Swart-headed mulberries, 10 +Wild free-born cranberries, +Crab-apples, dewberries, +Pine-apples, blackberries, +Apricots, strawberries;-- +All ripe together +In summer weather,-- +Morns that pass by, +Fair eves that fly; +Come buy, come buy: +Our grapes fresh from the vine, 20 +Pomegranates full and fine, +Dates and sharp bullaces, +Rare pears and greengages, +Damsons and bilberries, +Taste them and try: +Currants and gooseberries, +Bright-fire-like barberries, +Figs to fill your mouth, +Citrons from the South, +Sweet to tongue and sound to eye; 30 +Come buy, come buy.' + + Evening by evening +Among the brookside rushes, +Laura bowed her head to hear, +Lizzie veiled her blushes: +Crouching close together +In the cooling weather, +With clasping arms and cautioning lips, +With tingling cheeks and finger tips. +'Lie close,' Laura said, 40 +Pricking up her golden head: +'We must not look at goblin men, +We must not buy their fruits: +Who knows upon what soil they fed +Their hungry thirsty roots?' +'Come buy,' call the goblins +Hobbling down the glen. +'Oh,' cried Lizzie, 'Laura, Laura, +You should not peep at goblin men.' +Lizzie covered up her eyes, 50 +Covered close lest they should look; +Laura reared her glossy head, +And whispered like the restless brook: +'Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie, +Down the glen tramp little men. +One hauls a basket, +One bears a plate, +One lugs a golden dish +Of many pounds weight. +How fair the vine must grow 60 +Whose grapes are so luscious; +How warm the wind must blow +Through those fruit bushes.' +'No,' said Lizzie, 'No, no, no; +Their offers should not charm us, +Their evil gifts would harm us.' +She thrust a dimpled finger +In each ear, shut eyes and ran: +Curious Laura chose to linger +Wondering at each merchant man. 70 +One had a cat's face, +One whisked a tail, +One tramped at a rat's pace, +One crawled like a snail, +One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry, +One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry. +She heard a voice like voice of doves +Cooing all together: +They sounded kind and full of loves +In the pleasant weather. 80 + + Laura stretched her gleaming neck +Like a rush-imbedded swan, +Like a lily from the beck, +Like a moonlit poplar branch, +Like a vessel at the launch +When its last restraint is gone. + + Backwards up the mossy glen +Turned and trooped the goblin men, +With their shrill repeated cry, +'Come buy, come buy.' 90 +When they reached where Laura was +They stood stock still upon the moss, +Leering at each other, +Brother with queer brother; +Signalling each other, +Brother with sly brother. +One set his basket down, +One reared his plate; +One began to weave a crown +Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown 100 +(Men sell not such in any town); +One heaved the golden weight +Of dish and fruit to offer her: +'Come buy, come buy,' was still their cry. +Laura stared but did not stir, +Longed but had no money: +The whisk-tailed merchant bade her taste +In tones as smooth as honey, +The cat-faced purr'd, +The rat-faced spoke a word 110 +Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard; +One parrot-voiced and jolly +Cried 'Pretty Goblin' still for 'Pretty Polly;'-- +One whistled like a bird. + + But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste: +'Good folk, I have no coin; +To take were to purloin: +I have no copper in my purse, +I have no silver either, +And all my gold is on the furze 120 +That shakes in windy weather +Above the rusty heather.' +'You have much gold upon your head,' +They answered all together: +'Buy from us with a golden curl.' +She clipped a precious golden lock, +She dropped a tear more rare than pearl, +Then sucked their fruit globes fair or red: +Sweeter than honey from the rock, +Stronger than man-rejoicing wine, 130 +Clearer than water flowed that juice; +She never tasted such before, +How should it cloy with length of use? +She sucked and sucked and sucked the more +Fruits which that unknown orchard bore; +She sucked until her lips were sore; +Then flung the emptied rinds away +But gathered up one kernel stone, +And knew not was it night or day +As she turned home alone. 140 + + Lizzie met her at the gate +Full of wise upbraidings: +'Dear, you should not stay so late, +Twilight is not good for maidens; +Should not loiter in the glen +In the haunts of goblin men. +Do you not remember Jeanie, +How she met them in the moonlight, +Took their gifts both choice and many, +Ate their fruits and wore their flowers 150 +Plucked from bowers +Where summer ripens at all hours? +But ever in the noonlight +She pined and pined away; +Sought them by night and day, +Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey; +Then fell with the first snow, +While to this day no grass will grow +Where she lies low: +I planted daisies there a year ago 160 +That never blow. +You should not loiter so.' +'Nay, hush,' said Laura: +'Nay, hush, my sister: +I ate and ate my fill, +Yet my mouth waters still; +To-morrow night I will +Buy more:' and kissed her: +'Have done with sorrow; +I'll bring you plums to-morrow 170 +Fresh on their mother twigs, +Cherries worth getting; +You cannot think what figs +My teeth have met in, +What melons icy-cold +Piled on a dish of gold +Too huge for me to hold, +What peaches with a velvet nap, +Pellucid grapes without one seed: +Odorous indeed must be the mead 180 +Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink +With lilies at the brink, +And sugar-sweet their sap.' + + Golden head by golden head, +Like two pigeons in one nest +Folded in each other's wings, +They lay down in their curtained bed: +Like two blossoms on one stem, +Like two flakes of new-fall'n snow, +Like two wands of ivory 190 +Tipped with gold for awful kings. +Moon and stars gazed in at them, +Wind sang to them lullaby, +Lumbering owls forbore to fly, +Not a bat flapped to and fro +Round their rest: +Cheek to cheek and breast to breast +Locked together in one nest. + + Early in the morning +When the first cock crowed his warning, 200 +Neat like bees, as sweet and busy, +Laura rose with Lizzie: +Fetched in honey, milked the cows, +Aired and set to rights the house, +Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat, +Cakes for dainty mouths to eat, +Next churned butter, whipped up cream, +Fed their poultry, sat and sewed; +Talked as modest maidens should: +Lizzie with an open heart, 210 +Laura in an absent dream, +One content, one sick in part; +One warbling for the mere bright day's delight, +One longing for the night. + + At length slow evening came: +They went with pitchers to the reedy brook; +Lizzie most placid in her look, +Laura most like a leaping flame. +They drew the gurgling water from its deep; +Lizzie plucked purple and rich golden flags, 220 +Then turning homeward said: 'The sunset flushes +Those furthest loftiest crags; +Come, Laura, not another maiden lags, +No wilful squirrel wags, +The beasts and birds are fast asleep.' +But Laura loitered still among the rushes +And said the bank was steep. + + And said the hour was early still +The dew not fall'n, the wind not chill: +Listening ever, but not catching 230 +The customary cry, +'Come buy, come buy,' +With its iterated jingle +Of sugar-baited words: +Not for all her watching +Once discerning even one goblin +Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling; +Let alone the herds +That used to tramp along the glen, +In groups or single, 240 +Of brisk fruit-merchant men. + + Till Lizzie urged, 'O Laura, come; +I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look: +You should not loiter longer at this brook: +Come with me home. +The stars rise, the moon bends her arc, +Each glowworm winks her spark, +Let us get home before the night grows dark: +For clouds may gather +Though this is summer weather, 250 +Put out the lights and drench us through; +Then if we lost our way what should we do?' + + Laura turned cold as stone +To find her sister heard that cry alone, +That goblin cry, +'Come buy our fruits, come buy.' +Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit? +Must she no more such succous pasture find, +Gone deaf and blind? +Her tree of life drooped from the root: 260 +She said not one word in her heart's sore ache; +But peering thro' the dimness, nought discerning, +Trudged home, her pitcher dripping all the way; +So crept to bed, and lay +Silent till Lizzie slept; +Then sat up in a passionate yearning, +And gnashed her teeth for baulked desire, and wept +As if her heart would break. + + Day after day, night after night, +Laura kept watch in vain 270 +In sullen silence of exceeding pain. +She never caught again the goblin cry: +'Come buy, come buy;'-- +She never spied the goblin men +Hawking their fruits along the glen: +But when the noon waxed bright +Her hair grew thin and grey; +She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn +To swift decay and burn +Her fire away. 280 + + One day remembering her kernel-stone +She set it by a wall that faced the south; +Dewed it with tears, hoped for a root, +Watched for a waxing shoot, +But there came none; +It never saw the sun, +It never felt the trickling moisture run: +While with sunk eyes and faded mouth +She dreamed of melons, as a traveller sees +False waves in desert drouth 290 +With shade of leaf-crowned trees, +And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze. + + She no more swept the house, +Tended the fowls or cows, +Fetched honey, kneaded cakes of wheat, +Brought water from the brook: +But sat down listless in the chimney-nook +And would not eat. + + Tender Lizzie could not bear +To watch her sister's cankerous care 300 +Yet not to share. +She night and morning +Caught the goblins' cry: +'Come buy our orchard fruits, +Come buy, come buy:'-- +Beside the brook, along the glen, +She heard the tramp of goblin men, +The voice and stir +Poor Laura could not hear; +Longed to buy fruit to comfort her, 310 +But feared to pay too dear. +She thought of Jeanie in her grave, +Who should have been a bride; +But who for joys brides hope to have +Fell sick and died +In her gay prime, +In earliest Winter time +With the first glazing rime, +With the first snow-fall of crisp Winter time. + + Till Laura dwindling 320 +Seemed knocking at Death's door: +Then Lizzie weighed no more +Better and worse; +But put a silver penny in her purse, +Kissed Laura, crossed the heath with clumps of furze +At twilight, halted by the brook: +And for the first time in her life +Began to listen and look. + + Laughed every goblin +When they spied her peeping: 330 +Came towards her hobbling, +Flying, running, leaping, +Puffing and blowing, +Chuckling, clapping, crowing, +Clucking and gobbling, +Mopping and mowing, +Full of airs and graces, +Pulling wry faces, +Demure grimaces, +Cat-like and rat-like, 340 +Ratel- and wombat-like, +Snail-paced in a hurry, +Parrot-voiced and whistler, +Helter skelter, hurry skurry, +Chattering like magpies, +Fluttering like pigeons, +Gliding like fishes,-- +Hugged her and kissed her: +Squeezed and caressed her: +Stretched up their dishes, 350 +Panniers, and plates: +'Look at our apples +Russet and dun, +Bob at our cherries, +Bite at our peaches, +Citrons and dates, +Grapes for the asking, +Pears red with basking +Out in the sun, +Plums on their twigs; 360 +Pluck them and suck them, +Pomegranates, figs.'-- + + 'Good folk,' said Lizzie, +Mindful of Jeanie: +'Give me much and many:'-- +Held out her apron, +Tossed them her penny. +'Nay, take a seat with us, +Honour and eat with us,' +They answered grinning: 370 +'Our feast is but beginning. +Night yet is early, +Warm and dew-pearly, +Wakeful and starry: +Such fruits as these +No man can carry; +Half their bloom would fly, +Half their dew would dry, +Half their flavour would pass by. +Sit down and feast with us, 380 +Be welcome guest with us, +Cheer you and rest with us.'-- +'Thank you,' said Lizzie: 'But one waits +At home alone for me: +So without further parleying, +If you will not sell me any +Of your fruits though much and many, +Give me back my silver penny +I tossed you for a fee.'-- +They began to scratch their pates, 390 +No longer wagging, purring, +But visibly demurring, +Grunting and snarling. +One called her proud, +Cross-grained, uncivil; +Their tones waxed loud, +Their looks were evil. +Lashing their tails +They trod and hustled her, +Elbowed and jostled her, 400 +Clawed with their nails, +Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking, +Tore her gown and soiled her stocking, +Twitched her hair out by the roots, +Stamped upon her tender feet, +Held her hands and squeezed their fruits +Against her mouth to make her eat. + + White and golden Lizzie stood, +Like a lily in a flood,-- +Like a rock of blue-veined stone 410 +Lashed by tides obstreperously,-- +Like a beacon left alone +In a hoary roaring sea, +Sending up a golden fire,-- +Like a fruit-crowned orange-tree +White with blossoms honey-sweet +Sore beset by wasp and bee,-- +Like a royal virgin town +Topped with gilded dome and spire +Close beleaguered by a fleet 420 +Mad to tug her standard down. + + One may lead a horse to water, +Twenty cannot make him drink. +Though the goblins cuffed and caught her, +Coaxed and fought her, +Bullied and besought her, +Scratched her, pinched her black as ink, +Kicked and knocked her, +Mauled and mocked her, +Lizzie uttered not a word; 430 +Would not open lip from lip +Lest they should cram a mouthful in: +But laughed in heart to feel the drip +Of juice that syrupped all her face, +And lodged in dimples of her chin, +And streaked her neck which quaked like curd. +At last the evil people, +Worn out by her resistance, +Flung back her penny, kicked their fruit +Along whichever road they took, 440 +Not leaving root or stone or shoot; +Some writhed into the ground, +Some dived into the brook +With ring and ripple, +Some scudded on the gale without a sound, +Some vanished in the distance. + + In a smart, ache, tingle, +Lizzie went her way; +Knew not was it night or day; +Sprang up the bank, tore thro' the furze, 450 +Threaded copse and dingle, +And heard her penny jingle +Bouncing in her purse,-- +Its bounce was music to her ear. +She ran and ran +As if she feared some goblin man +Dogged her with gibe or curse +Or something worse: +But not one goblin skurried after, +Nor was she pricked by fear; 460 +The kind heart made her windy-paced +That urged her home quite out of breath with haste +And inward laughter. + + She cried 'Laura,' up the garden, +'Did you miss me? +Come and kiss me. +Never mind my bruises, +Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices +Squeezed from goblin fruits for you, +Goblin pulp and goblin dew. 470 +Eat me, drink me, love me; +Laura, make much of me: +For your sake I have braved the glen +And had to do with goblin merchant men.' + + Laura started from her chair, +Flung her arms up in the air, +Clutched her hair: +'Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted +For my sake the fruit forbidden? +Must your light like mine be hidden, 480 +Your young life like mine be wasted, +Undone in mine undoing, +And ruined in my ruin, +Thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden?'-- +She clung about her sister, +Kissed and kissed and kissed her: +Tears once again +Refreshed her shrunken eyes, +Dropping like rain +After long sultry drouth; 490 +Shaking with aguish fear, and pain, +She kissed and kissed her with a hungry mouth. + + Her lips began to scorch, +That juice was wormwood to her tongue, +She loathed the feast: +Writhing as one possessed she leaped and sung, +Rent all her robe, and wrung +Her hands in lamentable haste, +And beat her breast. +Her locks streamed like the torch 500 +Borne by a racer at full speed, +Or like the mane of horses in their flight, +Or like an eagle when she stems the light +Straight toward the sun, +Or like a caged thing freed, +Or like a flying flag when armies run. + + Swift fire spread through her veins, knocked at her heart, +Met the fire smouldering there +And overbore its lesser flame; +She gorged on bitterness without a name: 510 +Ah! fool, to choose such part +Of soul-consuming care! +Sense failed in the mortal strife: +Like the watch-tower of a town +Which an earthquake shatters down, +Like a lightning-stricken mast, +Like a wind-uprooted tree +Spun about, +Like a foam-topped waterspout +Cast down headlong in the sea, 520 +She fell at last; +Pleasure past and anguish past, +Is it death or is it life? + + Life out of death. +That night long Lizzie watched by her, +Counted her pulse's flagging stir, +Felt for her breath, +Held water to her lips, and cooled her face +With tears and fanning leaves: +But when the first birds chirped about their eaves, 530 +And early reapers plodded to the place +Of golden sheaves, +And dew-wet grass +Bowed in the morning winds so brisk to pass, +And new buds with new day +Opened of cup-like lilies on the stream, +Laura awoke as from a dream, +Laughed in the innocent old way, +Hugged Lizzie but not twice or thrice; +Her gleaming locks showed not one thread of grey, 540 +Her breath was sweet as May +And light danced in her eyes. + + Days, weeks, months, years +Afterwards, when both were wives +With children of their own; +Their mother-hearts beset with fears, +Their lives bound up in tender lives; +Laura would call the little ones +And tell them of her early prime, +Those pleasant days long gone 550 +Of not-returning time: +Would talk about the haunted glen, +The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men, +Their fruits like honey to the throat +But poison in the blood; +(Men sell not such in any town:) +Would tell them how her sister stood +In deadly peril to do her good, +And win the fiery antidote: +Then joining hands to little hands 560 +Would bid them cling together, +'For there is no friend like a sister +In calm or stormy weather; +To cheer one on the tedious way, +To fetch one if one goes astray, +To lift one if one totters down, +To strengthen whilst one stands.' + + + + +IN THE ROUND TOWER AT JHANSI + +June 8, 1857 + + +A hundred, a thousand to one; even so; + Not a hope in the world remained: +The swarming howling wretches below + Gained and gained and gained. + +Skene looked at his pale young wife:-- + 'Is the time come?'--'The time is come!'-- +Young, strong, and so full of life: + The agony struck them dumb. + +Close his arm about her now, + Close her cheek to his, 10 +Close the pistol to her brow-- + God forgive them this! + +'Will it hurt much?'--'No, mine own: + I wish I could bear the pang for both.' +'I wish I could bear the pang alone: + Courage, dear, I am not loth.' + +Kiss and kiss: 'It is not pain + Thus to kiss and die. +One kiss more.'--'And yet one again.'-- + 'Good-bye.'--'Good-bye.' 20 + + + + +DREAM LAND + + +Where sunless rivers weep +Their waves into the deep, +She sleeps a charmèd sleep: + Awake her not. +Led by a single star, +She came from very far +To seek where shadows are + Her pleasant lot. + +She left the rosy morn, +She left the fields of corn, 10 +For twilight cold and lorn + And water springs. +Through sleep, as through a veil, +She sees the sky look pale, +And hears the nightingale + That sadly sings. + +Rest, rest, a perfect rest +Shed over brow and breast; +Her face is toward the west, + The purple land. 20 +She cannot see the grain +Ripening on hill and plain; +She cannot feel the rain + Upon her hand. + +Rest, rest, for evermore +Upon a mossy shore; +Rest, rest at the heart's core + Till time shall cease: +Sleep that no pain shall wake; +Night that no morn shall break 30 +Till joy shall overtake + Her perfect peace. + + + + +AT HOME + + +When I was dead, my spirit turned + To seek the much-frequented house: +I passed the door, and saw my friends + Feasting beneath green orange boughs; +From hand to hand they pushed the wine, + They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; +They sang, they jested, and they laughed, + For each was loved of each. + +I listened to their honest chat: + Said one: 'To-morrow we shall be 10 +Plod plod along the featureless sands, + And coasting miles and miles of sea.' +Said one: 'Before the turn of tide + We will achieve the eyrie-seat.' +Said one: 'To-morrow shall be like + To-day, but much more sweet.' + +'To-morrow,' said they, strong with hope, + And dwelt upon the pleasant way: +'To-morrow,' cried they, one and all, + While no one spoke of yesterday. 20 +Their life stood full at blessed noon; + I, only I, had passed away: +'To-morrow and to-day,' they cried; + I was of yesterday. + +I shivered comfortless, but cast + No chill across the tablecloth; +I, all-forgotten, shivered, sad + To stay, and yet to part how loth: +I passed from the familiar room, + I who from love had passed away, 30 +Like the remembrance of a guest + That tarrieth but a day. + + + + +A TRIAD + +Sonnet + + +Three sang of love together: one with lips + Crimson, with cheeks and bosom in a glow, +Flushed to the yellow hair and finger-tips; + And one there sang who soft and smooth as snow + Bloomed like a tinted hyacinth at a show; +And one was blue with famine after love, + Who like a harpstring snapped rang harsh and low +The burden of what those were singing of. +One shamed herself in love; one temperately + Grew gross in soulless love, a sluggish wife; +One famished died for love. Thus two of three + Took death for love and won him after strife; +One droned in sweetness like a fattened bee: + All on the threshold, yet all short of life. + + + + +LOVE FROM THE NORTH + + +I had a love in soft south land, + Beloved through April far in May; +He waited on my lightest breath, + And never dared to say me nay. + +He saddened if my cheer was sad, + But gay he grew if I was gay; +We never differed on a hair, + My yes his yes, my nay his nay. + +The wedding hour was come, the aisles + Were flushed with sun and flowers that day; 10 +I pacing balanced in my thoughts: + 'It's quite too late to think of nay.'-- + +My bridegroom answered in his turn, + Myself had almost answered 'yea:' +When through the flashing nave I heard + A struggle and resounding 'nay.' + +Bridemaids and bridegroom shrank in fear, + But I stood high who stood at bay: +'And if I answer yea, fair Sir, + What man art thou to bar with nay?' 20 + +He was a strong man from the north, + Light-locked, with eyes of dangerous grey: +'Put yea by for another time + In which I will not say thee nay.' + +He took me in his strong white arms, + He bore me on his horse away +O'er crag, morass, and hairbreadth pass, + But never asked me yea or nay. + +He made me fast with book and bell, + With links of love he makes me stay; 30 +Till now I've neither heart nor power + Nor will nor wish to say him nay. + + + + +WINTER RAIN + + +Every valley drinks, + Every dell and hollow: +Where the kind rain sinks and sinks, + Green of Spring will follow. + +Yet a lapse of weeks + Buds will burst their edges, +Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks, + In the woods and hedges; + +Weave a bower of love + For birds to meet each other, 10 +Weave a canopy above + Nest and egg and mother. + +But for fattening rain + We should have no flowers, +Never a bud or leaf again + But for soaking showers; + +Never a mated bird + In the rocking tree-tops, +Never indeed a flock or herd + To graze upon the lea-crops. 20 + +Lambs so woolly white, + Sheep the sun-bright leas on, +They could have no grass to bite + But for rain in season. + +We should find no moss + In the shadiest places, +Find no waving meadow grass + Pied with broad-eyed daisies: + +But miles of barren sand, + With never a son or daughter, 30 +Not a lily on the land, + Or lily on the water. + + + + +COUSIN KATE + + +I was a cottage maiden + Hardened by sun and air, +Contented with my cottage mates, + Not mindful I was fair. +Why did a great lord find me out, + And praise my flaxen hair? +Why did a great lord find me out + To fill my heart with care? + +He lured me to his palace home-- + Woe's me for joy thereof-- 10 +To lead a shameless shameful life, + His plaything and his love. +He wore me like a silken knot, + He changed me like a glove; +So now I moan, an unclean thing, + Who might have been a dove. + +O Lady Kate, my cousin Kate, + You grew more fair than I: +He saw you at your father's gate, + Chose you, and cast me by. 20 +He watched your steps along the lane, + Your work among the rye; +He lifted you from mean estate + To sit with him on high. + +Because you were so good and pure + He bound you with his ring: +The neighbours call you good and pure, + Call me an outcast thing. +Even so I sit and howl in dust, + You sit in gold and sing: 30 +Now which of us has tenderer heart? + You had the stronger wing. + +O cousin Kate, my love was true, + Your love was writ in sand: +If he had fooled not me but you, + If you stood where I stand, +He'd not have won me with his love + Nor bought me with his land; +I would have spit into his face + And not have taken his hand. 40 + +Yet I've a gift you have not got, + And seem not like to get: +For all your clothes and wedding-ring + I've little doubt you fret. +My fair-haired son, my shame, my pride, + Cling closer, closer yet: +Your father would give lands for one + To wear his coronet. + + + + +NOBLE SISTERS + + +'Now did you mark a falcon, + Sister dear, sister dear, +Flying toward my window + In the morning cool and clear? +With jingling bells about her neck, + But what beneath her wing? +It may have been a ribbon, + Or it may have been a ring.'-- + 'I marked a falcon swooping + At the break of day; 10 + And for your love, my sister dove, + I 'frayed the thief away.'-- + +'Or did you spy a ruddy hound, + Sister fair and tall, +Went snuffing round my garden bound, + Or crouched by my bower wall? +With a silken leash about his neck; + But in his mouth may be +A chain of gold and silver links, + Or a letter writ to me.'-- 20 + 'I heard a hound, highborn sister, + Stood baying at the moon; + I rose and drove him from your wall + Lest you should wake too soon.'-- + +'Or did you meet a pretty page + Sat swinging on the gate; +Sat whistling whistling like a bird, + Or may be slept too late; +With eaglets broidered on his cap, + And eaglets on his glove? 30 +If you had turned his pockets out, + You had found some pledge of love.'-- + 'I met him at this daybreak, + Scarce the east was red: + Lest the creaking gate should anger you, + I packed him home to bed.'-- + +'Oh patience, sister. Did you see + A young man tall and strong, +Swift-footed to uphold the right + And to uproot the wrong, 40 +Come home across the desolate sea + To woo me for his wife? +And in his heart my heart is locked, + And in his life my life.'-- + 'I met a nameless man, sister, + Hard by your chamber door: + I said: Her husband loves her much. + And yet she loves him more.'-- + +'Fie, sister, fie, a wicked lie, + A lie, a wicked lie, 50 +I have none other love but him, + Nor will have till I die. +And you have turned him from our door, + And stabbed him with a lie: +I will go seek him thro' the world + In sorrow till I die.'-- + 'Go seek in sorrow, sister, + And find in sorrow too: + If thus you shame our father's name + My curse go forth with you.' 60 + + + + +SPRING + + +Frost-locked all the winter, +Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits, +What shall make their sap ascend +That they may put forth shoots? +Tips of tender green, +Leaf, or blade, or sheath; +Telling of the hidden life +That breaks forth underneath, +Life nursed in its grave by Death. + +Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly, 10 +Drips the soaking rain, +By fits looks down the waking sun: +Young grass springs on the plain; +Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees; +Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits, +Swollen with sap put forth their shoots; +Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane; +Birds sing and pair again. + +There is no time like Spring, +When life's alive in everything, 20 +Before new nestlings sing, +Before cleft swallows speed their journey back +Along the trackless track-- +God guides their wing, +He spreads their table that they nothing lack,-- +Before the daisy grows a common flower, +Before the sun has power +To scorch the world up in his noontide hour. + +There is no time like Spring, +Like Spring that passes by; 30 +There is no life like Spring-life born to die,-- +Piercing the sod, +Clothing the uncouth clod, +Hatched in the nest, +Fledged on the windy bough, +Strong on the wing: +There is no time like Spring that passes by, +Now newly born, and now +Hastening to die. + + + + +THE LAMBS OF GRASMERE, 1860 + + +The upland flocks grew starved and thinned: + Their shepherds scarce could feed the lambs +Whose milkless mothers butted them, + Or who were orphaned of their dams. +The lambs athirst for mother's milk + Filled all the place with piteous sounds: +Their mothers' bones made white for miles + The pastureless wet pasture grounds. + +Day after day, night after night, + From lamb to lamb the shepherds went, 10 +With teapots for the bleating mouths + Instead of nature's nourishment. +The little shivering gaping things + Soon knew the step that brought them aid, +And fondled the protecting hand, + And rubbed it with a woolly head. + +Then, as the days waxed on to weeks, + It was a pretty sight to see +These lambs with frisky heads and tails + Skipping and leaping on the lea, 20 +Bleating in tender, trustful tones, + Resting on rocky crag or mound. +And following the beloved feet + That once had sought for them and found. + +These very shepherds of their flocks, + These loving lambs so meek to please, +Are worthy of recording words + And honour in their due degrees: +So I might live a hundred years, + And roam from strand to foreign strand, 30 +Yet not forget this flooded spring + And scarce-saved lambs of Westmoreland. + + + + +A BIRTHDAY + + +My heart is like a singing bird + Whose nest is in a watered shoot; +My heart is like an apple-tree + Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; +My heart is like a rainbow shell + That paddles in a halcyon sea; +My heart is gladder than all these + Because my love is come to me. + +Raise me a dais of silk and down; + Hang it with vair and purple dyes; 10 +Carve it in doves, and pomegranates, + And peacocks with a hundred eyes; +Work it in gold and silver grapes, + In leaves, and silver fleurs-de-lys; +Because the birthday of my life + Is come, my love is come to me. + + + + +REMEMBER + +Sonnet + + +Remember me when I am gone away, + Gone far away into the silent land; + When you can no more hold me by the hand, +Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. +Remember me when no more day by day + You tell me of our future that you planned: + Only remember me; you understand +It will be late to counsel then or pray. +Yet if you should forget me for a while + And afterwards remember, do not grieve: + For if the darkness and corruption leave + A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, +Better by far you should forget and smile + Than that you should remember and be sad. + + + + +AFTER DEATH + +Sonnet + + +The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept + And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may + Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay, +Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept. +He leaned above me, thinking that I slept + And could not hear him; but I heard him say: + 'Poor child, poor child:' and as he turned away +Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept. +He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold + That hid my face, or take my hand in his, + Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head: + He did not love me living; but once dead + He pitied me; and very sweet it is +To know he still is warm though I am cold. + + + + +AN END + + +Love, strong as Death, is dead. +Come, let us make his bed +Among the dying flowers: +A green turf at his head; +And a stone at his feet, +Whereon we may sit +In the quiet evening hours. + +He was born in the Spring, +And died before the harvesting: +On the last warm summer day 10 +He left us; he would not stay +For Autumn twilight cold and grey. +Sit we by his grave, and sing +He is gone away. + +To few chords and sad and low +Sing we so: +Be our eyes fixed on the grass +Shadow-veiled as the years pass +While we think of all that was +In the long ago. 20 + + + + +MY DREAM + + +Hear now a curious dream I dreamed last night +Each word whereof is weighed and sifted truth. + + I stood beside Euphrates while it swelled +Like overflowing Jordan in its youth: +It waxed and coloured sensibly to sight; +Till out of myriad pregnant waves there welled +Young crocodiles, a gaunt blunt-featured crew, +Fresh-hatched perhaps and daubed with birthday dew. +The rest if I should tell, I fear my friend +My closest friend would deem the facts untrue; 10 +And therefore it were wisely left untold; +Yet if you will, why, hear it to the end. + + Each crocodile was girt with massive gold +And polished stones that with their wearers grew: +But one there was who waxed beyond the rest, +Wore kinglier girdle and a kingly crown, +Whilst crowns and orbs and sceptres starred his breast. +All gleamed compact and green with scale on scale, +But special burnishment adorned his mail +And special terror weighed upon his frown; 20 +His punier brethren quaked before his tail, +Broad as a rafter, potent as a flail. +So he grew lord and master of his kin: +But who shall tell the tale of all their woes? +An execrable appetite arose, +He battened on them, crunched, and sucked them in. +He knew no law, he feared no binding law, +But ground them with inexorable jaw: +The luscious fat distilled upon his chin, +Exuded from his nostrils and his eyes, 30 +While still like hungry death he fed his maw; +Till every minor crocodile being dead +And buried too, himself gorged to the full, +He slept with breath oppressed and unstrung claw. +Oh marvel passing strange which next I saw: +In sleep he dwindled to the common size, +And all the empire faded from his coat. +Then from far off a wingèd vessel came, +Swift as a swallow, subtle as a flame: +I know not what it bore of freight or host, 40 +But white it was as an avenging ghost. +It levelled strong Euphrates in its course; +Supreme yet weightless as an idle mote +It seemed to tame the waters without force +Till not a murmur swelled or billow beat: +Lo, as the purple shadow swept the sands, +The prudent crocodile rose on his feet +And shed appropriate tears and wrung his hands. + + What can it mean? you ask. I answer not +For meaning, but myself must echo, What? 50 +And tell it as I saw it on the spot. + + + + +SONG + + +Oh roses for the flush of youth, + And laurel for the perfect prime; +But pluck an ivy branch for me + Grown old before my time. + +Oh violets for the grave of youth, + And bay for those dead in their prime; +Give me the withered leaves I chose + Before in the old time. + + + + +THE HOUR AND THE GHOST + + + BRIDE + +O love, love, hold me fast, +He draws me away from thee; +I cannot stem the blast, +Nor the cold strong sea: +Far away a light shines +Beyond the hills and pines; +It is lit for me. + + BRIDEGROOM + +I have thee close, my dear, +No terror can come near; +Only far off the northern light shines clear. 10 + + GHOST + +Come with me, fair and false, +To our home, come home. +It is my voice that calls: +Once thou wast not afraid +When I woo'd, and said, +'Come, our nest is newly made'-- +Now cross the tossing foam. + + BRIDE + +Hold me one moment longer, +He taunts me with the past, +His clutch is waxing stronger, 20 +Hold me fast, hold me fast. +He draws me from thy heart, +And I cannot withhold: +He bids my spirit depart +With him into the cold:-- +Oh bitter vows of old! + + BRIDEGROOM + +Lean on me, hide thine eyes: +Only ourselves, earth and skies, +Are present here: be wise. + + GHOST + +Lean on me, come away, 30 +I will guide and steady: +Come, for I will not stay: +Come, for house and bed are ready. +Ah, sure bed and house, +For better and worse, for life and death: +Goal won with shortened breath: +Come, crown our vows. + + BRIDE + +One moment, one more word, +While my heart beats still, +While my breath is stirred 40 +By my fainting will. +O friend forsake me not, +Forget not as I forgot: +But keep thy heart for me, +Keep thy faith true and bright; +Through the lone cold winter night +Perhaps I may come to thee. + + BRIDEGROOM + +Nay peace, my darling, peace: +Let these dreams and terrors cease: +Who spoke of death or change or aught but ease? 50 + + GHOST + +O fair frail sin, +O poor harvest gathered in! +Thou shalt visit him again +To watch his heart grow cold; +To know the gnawing pain +I knew of old; +To see one much more fair +Fill up the vacant chair, +Fill his heart, his children bear:-- +While thou and I together 60 +In the outcast weather +Toss and howl and spin. + + + + +A SUMMER WISH + + +Live all thy sweet life thro', + Sweet Rose, dew-sprent, +Drop down thine evening dew +To gather it anew +When day is bright: + I fancy thou wast meant +Chiefly to give delight. + +Sing in the silent sky, + Glad soaring bird; +Sing out thy notes on high 10 +To sunbeam straying by +Or passing cloud; + Heedless if thou art heard +Sing thy full song aloud. + +Oh that it were with me + As with the flower; +Blooming on its own tree +For butterfly and bee +Its summer morns: + That I might bloom mine hour 20 +A rose in spite of thorns. + +Oh that my work were done + As birds' that soar +Rejoicing in the sun: +That when my time is run +And daylight too, + I so might rest once more +Cool with refreshing dew. + + + + +AN APPLE GATHERING + + +I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple-tree + And wore them all that evening in my hair: +Then in due season when I went to see + I found no apples there. + +With dangling basket all along the grass + As I had come I went the selfsame track: +My neighbours mocked me while they saw me pass + So empty-handed back. + +Lilian and Lilias smiled in trudging by, + Their heaped-up basket teased me like a jeer; 10 +Sweet-voiced they sang beneath the sunset sky, + Their mother's home was near. + +Plump Gertrude passed me with her basket full, + A stronger hand than hers helped it along; +A voice talked with her through the shadows cool + More sweet to me than song. + +Ah Willie, Willie, was my love less worth + Than apples with their green leaves piled above? +I counted rosiest apples on the earth + Of far less worth than love. 20 + +So once it was with me you stooped to talk + Laughing and listening in this very lane: +To think that by this way we used to walk + We shall not walk again! + +I let my neighbours pass me, ones and twos + And groups; the latest said the night grew chill, +And hastened: but I loitered, while the dews + Fell fast I loitered still. + + + + +SONG + + +Two doves upon the selfsame branch, + Two lilies on a single stem, +Two butterflies upon one flower:-- + Oh happy they who look on them. + +Who look upon them hand in hand + Flushed in the rosy summer light; +Who look upon them hand in hand + And never give a thought to night. + + + + +MAUDE CLARE + + +Out of the church she followed them + With a lofty step and mien: +His bride was like a village maid, + Maude Clare was like a queen. + +'Son Thomas,' his lady mother said, + With smiles, almost with tears: +'May Nell and you but live as true + As we have done for years; + +'Your father thirty years ago + Had just your tale to tell; 10 +But he was not so pale as you, + Nor I so pale as Nell.' + +My lord was pale with inward strife, + And Nell was pale with pride; +My lord gazed long on pale Maude Clare + Or ever he kissed the bride. + +'Lo, I have brought my gift, my lord, + Have brought my gift,' she said: +'To bless the hearth, to bless the board, + To bless the marriage-bed. 20 + +'Here's my half of the golden chain + You wore about your neck, +That day we waded ankle-deep + For lilies in the beck: + +'Here's my half of the faded leaves + We plucked from budding bough, +With feet amongst the lily leaves,-- + The lilies are budding now.' + +He strove to match her scorn with scorn, + He faltered in his place: 30 +'Lady,' he said,--'Maude Clare,' he said,-- + 'Maude Clare:'--and hid his face. + +She turn'd to Nell: 'My Lady Nell, + I have a gift for you; +Though, were it fruit, the bloom were gone, + Or, were it flowers, the dew. + +'Take my share of a fickle heart, + Mine of a paltry love: +Take it or leave it as you will, + I wash my hands thereof.' 40 + +'And what you leave,' said Nell, 'I'll take, + And what you spurn, I'll wear; +For he's my lord for better and worse, + And him I love, Maude Clare. + +'Yea, though you're taller by the head, + More wise, and much more fair; +I'll love him till he loves me best, + Me best of all, Maude Clare.' + + + + +ECHO + + +Come to me in the silence of the night; + Come in the speaking silence of a dream; +Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright + As sunlight on a stream; + Come back in tears, +O memory, hope, love of finished years. + +Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, + Whose wakening should have been in Paradise, +Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet; + Where thirsting longing eyes 10 + Watch the slow door +That opening, letting in, lets out no more. + +Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live + My very life again though cold in death: +Come back to me in dreams, that I may give + Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: + Speak low, lean low, +As long ago, my love, how long ago! + + + + +MY SECRET + + +I tell my secret? No indeed, not I: +Perhaps some day, who knows? +But not to-day; it froze, and blows, and snows, +And you're too curious: fie! +You want to hear it? well: +Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell. + + Or, after all, perhaps there's none: +Suppose there is no secret after all, +But only just my fun. +To-day's a nipping day, a biting day; 10 +In which one wants a shawl, +A veil, a cloak, and other wraps: +I cannot ope to every one who taps, +And let the draughts come whistling through my hall; +Come bounding and surrounding me, +Come buffeting, astounding me, +Nipping and clipping through my wraps and all. +I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows +His nose to Russian snows +To be pecked at by every wind that blows? 20 +You would not peck? I thank you for good will, +Believe, but leave that truth untested still. + + Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust +March with its peck of dust, +Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers, +Nor even May, whose flowers +One frost may wither through the sunless hours. + +Perhaps some languid summer day, +When drowsy birds sing less and less, +And golden fruit is ripening to excess, 30 +If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud, +And the warm wind is neither still nor loud, +Perhaps my secret I may say, +Or you may guess. + + + + +ANOTHER SPRING + + +If I might see another Spring + I'd not plant summer flowers and wait: +I'd have my crocuses at once, +My leafless pink mezereons, + My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet + My white or azure violet, +Leaf-nested primrose; anything + To blow at once, not late. + +If I might see another Spring + I'd listen to the daylight birds 10 +That build their nests and pair and sing, +Nor wait for mateless nightingale; + I'd listen to the lusty herds, + The ewes with lambs as white as snow, +I'd find out music in the hail + And all the winds that blow. + +If I might see another Spring-- + Oh stinging comment on my past +That all my past results in 'if'-- + If I might see another Spring 20 +I'd laugh to-day, to-day is brief; +I would not wait for anything: + I'd use to-day that cannot last, + Be glad to-day and sing. + + + + +A PEAL OF BELLS + + +Strike the bells wantonly, + Tinkle tinkle well; +Bring me wine, bring me flowers, + Ring the silver bell. +All my lamps burn scented oil, + Hung on laden orange-trees, +Whose shadowed foliage is the foil + To golden lamps and oranges. +Heap my golden plates with fruit, + Golden fruit, fresh-plucked and ripe; 10 + Strike the bells and breathe the pipe; +Shut out showers from summer hours-- +Silence that complaining lute-- + Shut out thinking, shut out pain, + From hours that cannot come again. + +Strike the bells solemnly, + Ding dong deep: +My friend is passing to his bed, + Fast asleep; +There's plaited linen round his head, 20 + While foremost go his feet-- +His feet that cannot carry him. +My feast's a show, my lights are dim; + Be still, your music is not sweet,-- +There is no music more for him: + His lights are out, his feast is done; +His bowl that sparkled to the brim +Is drained, is broken, cannot hold; +My blood is chill, his blood is cold; + His death is full, and mine begun. 30 + + + + +FATA MORGANA + + +A blue-eyed phantom far before + Is laughing, leaping toward the sun: +Like lead I chase it evermore, + I pant and run. + +It breaks the sunlight bound on bound: + Goes singing as it leaps along +To sheep-bells with a dreamy sound + A dreamy song. + +I laugh, it is so brisk and gay; + It is so far before, I weep: 10 +I hope I shall lie down some day, + Lie down and sleep. + + + + +'NO, THANK YOU, JOHN' + + +I never said I loved you, John: + Why will you tease me day by day, +And wax a weariness to think upon + With always 'do' and 'pray'? + +You know I never loved you, John; + No fault of mine made me your toast: +Why will you haunt me with a face as wan + As shows an hour-old ghost? + +I dare say Meg or Moll would take + Pity upon you, if you'd ask: 10 +And pray don't remain single for my sake + Who can't perform that task. + +I have no heart?--Perhaps I have not; + But then you're mad to take offence +That I don't give you what I have not got: + Use your own common sense. + +Let bygones be bygones: + Don't call me false, who owed not to be true: +I'd rather answer 'No' to fifty Johns + Than answer 'Yes' to you. 20 + +Let's mar our pleasant days no more, + Song-birds of passage, days of youth: +Catch at to-day, forget the days before: + I'll wink at your untruth. + +Let us strike hands as hearty friends; + No more, no less; and friendship's good: +Only don't keep in view ulterior ends, + And points not understood + +In open treaty. Rise above + Quibbles and shuffling off and on: 30 +Here's friendship for you if you like; but love,-- + No, thank you, John. + + + + +MAY + + +I cannot tell you how it was; +But this I know: it came to pass +Upon a bright and breezy day +When May was young; ah, pleasant May! +As yet the poppies were not born +Between the blades of tender corn; +The last eggs had not hatched as yet, +Nor any bird forgone its mate. + + I cannot tell you what it was; +But this I know: it did but pass. 10 +It passed away with sunny May, +With all sweet things it passed away, +And left me old, and cold, and grey. + + + + +A PAUSE OF THOUGHT + + +I looked for that which is not, nor can be, + And hope deferred made my heart sick in truth: + But years must pass before a hope of youth + Is resigned utterly. + +I watched and waited with a steadfast will: + And though the object seemed to flee away + That I so longed for, ever day by day + I watched and waited still. + +Sometimes I said: This thing shall be no more; + My expectation wearies and shall cease; 10 + I will resign it now and be at peace: + Yet never gave it o'er. + +Sometimes I said: It is an empty name + I long for; to a name why should I give + The peace of all the days I have to live?-- + Yet gave it all the same. + +Alas, thou foolish one! alike unfit + For healthy joy and salutary pain: + Thou knowest the chase useless, and again + Turnest to follow it. 20 + + + + +TWILIGHT CALM + + + Oh, pleasant eventide! + Clouds on the western side +Grow grey and greyer hiding the warm sun: +The bees and birds, their happy labours done, + Seek their close nests and bide. + + Screened in the leafy wood + The stock-doves sit and brood: +The very squirrel leaps from bough to bough +But lazily; pauses; and settles now + Where once he stored his food. 10 + + One by one the flowers close, + Lily and dewy rose +Shutting their tender petals from the moon: +The grasshoppers are still; but not so soon + Are still the noisy crows. + + The dormouse squats and eats + Choice little dainty bits +Beneath the spreading roots of a broad lime; +Nibbling his fill he stops from time to time + And listens where he sits. 20 + + From far the lowings come + Of cattle driven home: +From farther still the wind brings fitfully +The vast continual murmur of the sea, + Now loud, now almost dumb. + + The gnats whirl in the air, + The evening gnats; and there +The owl opes broad his eyes and wings to sail +For prey; the bat wakes; and the shell-less snail + Comes forth, clammy and bare. 30 + + Hark! that's the nightingale, + Telling the selfsame tale +Her song told when this ancient earth was young: +So echoes answered when her song was sung + In the first wooded vale. + + We call it love and pain + The passion of her strain; +And yet we little understand or know: +Why should it not be rather joy that so + Throbs in each throbbing vein? 40 + + In separate herds the deer + Lie; here the bucks, and here +The does, and by its mother sleeps the fawn: +Through all the hours of night until the dawn + They sleep, forgetting fear. + + The hare sleeps where it lies, + With wary half-closed eyes; +The cock has ceased to crow, the hen to cluck: +Only the fox is out, some heedless duck + Or chicken to surprise. 50 + + Remote, each single star + Comes out, till there they are +All shining brightly: how the dews fall damp! +While close at hand the glow-worm lights her lamp + Or twinkles from afar. + + But evening now is done + As much as if the sun +Day-giving had arisen in the East: +For night has come; and the great calm has ceased, + The quiet sands have run. 60 + + + + +WIFE TO HUSBAND + + +Pardon the faults in me, + For the love of years ago: + Good-bye. +I must drift across the sea, + I must sink into the snow, + I must die. + +You can bask in this sun, + You can drink wine, and eat: + Good-bye. +I must gird myself and run, 10 + Though with unready feet: + I must die. + +Blank sea to sail upon, + Cold bed to sleep in: + Good-bye. +While you clasp, I must be gone + For all your weeping: + I must die. + +A kiss for one friend, + And a word for two,-- 20 + Good-bye:-- +A lock that you must send, + A kindness you must do: + I must die. + +Not a word for you, + Not a lock or kiss, + Good-bye. +We, one, must part in two; + Verily death is this: + I must die. 30 + + + + +THREE SEASONS + + + 'A cup for hope!' she said, +In springtime ere the bloom was old: +The crimson wine was poor and cold + By her mouth's richer red. + + 'A cup for love!' how low, +How soft the words; and all the while +Her blush was rippling with a smile + Like summer after snow. + + 'A cup for memory!' +Cold cup that one must drain alone: 10 +While autumn winds are up and moan + Across the barren sea. + + Hope, memory, love: +Hope for fair morn, and love for day, +And memory for the evening grey + And solitary dove. + + + + +MIRAGE + + +The hope I dreamed of was a dream, + Was but a dream; and now I wake, +Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, + For a dream's sake. + +I hang my harp upon a tree, + A weeping willow in a lake; +I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapt + For a dream's sake. + +Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; + My silent heart, lie still and break: 10 +Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed + For a dream's sake. + + + + +SHUT OUT + + +The door was shut. I looked between + Its iron bars; and saw it lie, + My garden, mine, beneath the sky, +Pied with all flowers bedewed and green: + +From bough to bough the song-birds crossed, + From flower to flower the moths and bees; + With all its nests and stately trees +It had been mine, and it was lost. + +A shadowless spirit kept the gate, + Blank and unchanging like the grave. 10 + I peering through said: 'Let me have +Some buds to cheer my outcast state.' + +He answered not. 'Or give me, then, + But one small twig from shrub or tree; + And bid my home remember me +Until I come to it again.' + +The spirit was silent; but he took + Mortar and stone to build a wall; + He left no loophole great or small +Through which my straining eyes might look: 20 + +So now I sit here quite alone + Blinded with tears; nor grieve for that, + For nought is left worth looking at +Since my delightful land is gone. + +A violet bed is budding near, + Wherein a lark has made her nest: + And good they are, but not the best; +And dear they are, but not so dear. + + + + +SOUND SLEEP + + +Some are laughing, some are weeping; +She is sleeping, only sleeping. +Round her rest wild flowers are creeping; +There the wind is heaping, heaping +Sweetest sweets of Summer's keeping. +By the corn-fields ripe for reaping. + +There are lilies, and there blushes +The deep rose, and there the thrushes +Sing till latest sunlight flushes +In the west; a fresh wind brushes 10 +Through the leaves while evening hushes. + +There by day the lark is singing +And the grass and weeds are springing; +There by night the bat is winging; +There for ever winds are bringing +Far-off chimes of church-bells ringing. + +Night and morning, noon and even, +Their sound fills her dreams with Heaven: +The long strife at lent is striven: +Till her grave-bands shall be riven 20 +Such is the good portion given +To her soul at rest and shriven. + + + + +SONG + + +She sat and sang alway + By the green margin of a stream, +Watching the fishes leap and play + Beneath the glad sunbeam. + +I sat and wept alway + Beneath the moon's most shadowy beam, +Watching the blossoms of the May + Weep leaves into the stream. + +I wept for memory; + She sang for hope that is so fair: 10 +My tears were swallowed by the sea; + Her songs died on the air. + + + + +SONG + + +When I am dead, my dearest, + Sing no sad songs for me; +Plant thou no roses at my head, + Nor shady cypress tree: +Be the green grass above me + With showers and dewdrops wet; +And if thou wilt, remember, + And if thou wilt, forget. + +I shall not see the shadows, + I shall not feel the rain; 10 +I shall not hear the nightingale + Sing on, as if in pain: +And dreaming through the twilight + That doth not rise nor set, +Haply I may remember, + And haply may forget. + + + + +DEAD BEFORE DEATH + +Sonnet + + +Ah! changed and cold, how changed and very cold, + With stiffened smiling lips and cold calm eyes: + Changed, yet the same; much knowing, little wise; +_This_ was the promise of the days of old! +Grown hard and stubborn in the ancient mould, + Grown rigid in the sham of lifelong lies: + We hoped for better things as years would rise, +But it is over as a tale once told. +All fallen the blossom that no fruitage bore, + All lost the present and the future time, +All lost, all lost, the lapse that went before: +So lost till death shut-to the opened door, + So lost from chime to everlasting chime, +So cold and lost for ever evermore. + + + + +BITTER FOR SWEET + + +Summer is gone with all its roses, + Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers, + Its warm air and refreshing showers: + And even Autumn closes. + +Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going, + And winter comes which is yet colder; + Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder, + And the last buds cease blowing. + + + + +SISTER MAUDE + + +Who told my mother of my shame, + Who told my father of my dear? +Oh who but Maude, my sister Maude, + Who lurked to spy and peer. + +Cold he lies, as cold as stone, + With his clotted curls about his face: +The comeliest corpse in all the world + And worthy of a queen's embrace. + +You might have spared his soul, sister, + Have spared my soul, your own soul too: 10 +Though I had not been born at all, + He'd never have looked at you. + +My father may sleep in Paradise, + My mother at Heaven-gate: +But sister Maude shall get no sleep + Either early or late. + +My father may wear a golden gown, + My mother a crown may win; +If my dear and I knocked at Heaven-gate + Perhaps they'd let us in: 20 +But sister Maude, oh sister Maude, + Bide _you_ with death and sin. + + + + +REST + +Sonnet + + +O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes; + Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth; + Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth +With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs. +She hath no questions, she hath no replies, + Hushed in and curtained with a blessèd dearth + Of all that irked her from the hour of birth; +With stillness that is almost Paradise. +Darkness more clear than noon-day holdeth her, + Silence more musical than any song; +Even her very heart has ceased to stir: +Until the morning of Eternity +Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be; + And when she wakes she will not think it long. + + + + +THE FIRST SPRING DAY + + +I wonder if the sap is stirring yet, +If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate, +If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun +And crocus fires are kindling one by one: + Sing, robin, sing; +I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring. + +I wonder if the springtide of this year +Will bring another Spring both lost and dear; +If heart and spirit will find out their Spring, +Or if the world alone will bud and sing: 10 + Sing, hope, to me; +Sweet notes, my hope, soft notes for memory. + +The sap will surely quicken soon or late, +The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate; +So Spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom, +Or in this world, or in the world to come: + Sing, voice of Spring, +Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing. + + + + +THE CONVENT THRESHOLD + + +There's blood between us, love, my love, +There's father's blood, there's brother's blood; +And blood's a bar I cannot pass: +I choose the stairs that mount above, +Stair after golden skyward stair, +To city and to sea of glass. +My lily feet are soiled with mud, +With scarlet mud which tells a tale +Of hope that was, of guilt that was, +Of love that shall not yet avail; 10 +Alas, my heart, if I could bare +My heart, this selfsame stain is there: +I seek the sea of glass and fire +To wash the spot, to burn the snare; +Lo, stairs are meant to lift us higher: +Mount with me, mount the kindled stair. + + Your eyes look earthward, mine look up. +I see the far-off city grand, +Beyond the hills a watered land, +Beyond the gulf a gleaming strand 20 +Of mansions where the righteous sup; +Who sleep at ease among their trees, +Or wake to sing a cadenced hymn +With Cherubim and Seraphim; +They bore the Cross, they drained the cup, +Racked, roasted, crushed, wrenched limb from limb, +They the offscouring of the world: +The heaven of starry heavens unfurled, +The sun before their face is dim. + +You looking earthward what see you? 30 +Milk-white wine-flushed among the vines, +Up and down leaping, to and fro, +Most glad, most full, made strong with wines, +Blooming as peaches pearled with dew, +Their golden windy hair afloat, +Love-music warbling in their throat, +Young men and women come and go. + + You linger, yet the time is short: +Flee for your life, gird up your strength +To flee; the shadows stretched at length 40 +Show that day wanes, that night draws nigh; +Flee to the mountain, tarry not. +Is this a time for smile and sigh, +For songs among the secret trees +Where sudden blue birds nest and sport? +The time is short and yet you stay: +To-day while it is called to-day +Kneel, wrestle, knock, do violence, pray; +To-day is short, to-morrow nigh: +Why will you die? why will you die? 50 + + You sinned with me a pleasant sin: +Repent with me, for I repent. +Woe's me the lore I must unlearn! +Woe's me that easy way we went, +So rugged when I would return! +How long until my sleep begin, +How long shall stretch these nights and days? +Surely, clean Angels cry, she prays; +She laves her soul with tedious tears: +How long must stretch these years and years? 60 + + I turn from you my cheeks and eyes, +My hair which you shall see no more-- +Alas for joy that went before, +For joy that dies, for love that dies. +Only my lips still turn to you, +My livid lips that cry, Repent. +Oh weary life, oh weary Lent, +Oh weary time whose stars are few. + +How should I rest in Paradise, +Or sit on steps of heaven alone? 70 +If Saints and Angels spoke of love +Should I not answer from my throne: +Have pity upon me, ye my friends, +For I have heard the sound thereof: +Should I not turn with yearning eyes, +Turn earthwards with a pitiful pang? +Oh save me from a pang in heaven. +By all the gifts we took and gave, +Repent, repent, and be forgiven: +This life is long, but yet it ends; 80 +Repent and purge your soul and save: +No gladder song the morning stars +Upon their birthday morning sang +Than Angels sing when one repents. + + I tell you what I dreamed last night: +A spirit with transfigured face +Fire-footed clomb an infinite space. +I heard his hundred pinions clang, +Heaven-bells rejoicing rang and rang, +Heaven-air was thrilled with subtle scents, 90 +Worlds spun upon their rushing cars: +He mounted shrieking: 'Give me light.' +Still light was poured on him, more light; +Angels, Archangels he outstripped +Exultant in exceeding might, +And trod the skirts of Cherubim. +Still 'Give me light,' he shrieked; and dipped +His thirsty face, and drank a sea, +Athirst with thirst it could not slake. +I saw him, drunk with knowledge, take 100 +From aching brows the aureole crown-- +His locks writhed like a cloven snake-- +He left his throne to grovel down +And lick the dust of Seraphs' feet: +For what is knowledge duly weighed? +Knowledge is strong, but love is sweet; +Yea all the progress he had made +Was but to learn that all is small +Save love, for love is all in all. + + I tell you what I dreamed last night: 110 +It was not dark, it was not light, +Cold dews had drenched my plenteous hair +Through clay; you came to seek me there. +And 'Do you dream of me?' you said. +My heart was dust that used to leap +To you; I answered half asleep: +'My pillow is damp, my sheets are red, +There's a leaden tester to my bed: +Find you a warmer playfellow, +A warmer pillow for your head, 120 +A kinder love to love than mine.' +You wrung your hands; while I like lead +Crushed downwards through the sodden earth: +You smote your hands but not in mirth, +And reeled but were not drunk with wine. + + For all night long I dreamed of you: +I woke and prayed against my will, +Then slept to dream of you again. +At length I rose and knelt and prayed: +I cannot write the words I said, 130 +My words were slow, my tears were few; +But through the dark my silence spoke +Like thunder. When this morning broke, +My face was pinched, my hair was grey, +And frozen blood was on the sill +Where stifling in my struggle I lay. + + If now you saw me you would say: +Where is the face I used to love? +And I would answer: Gone before; +It tarries veiled in paradise. 140 +When once the morning star shall rise, +When earth with shadow flees away +And we stand safe within the door, +Then you shall lift the veil thereof. +Look up, rise up: for far above +Our palms are grown, our place is set; +There we shall meet as once we met +And love with old familiar love. + + + + +UP-HILL + + +Does the road wind up-hill all the way? + Yes, to the very end. +Will the day's journey take the whole long day? + From morn to night, my friend. + +But is there for the night a resting-place? + A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. +May not the darkness hide it from my face? + You cannot miss that inn. + +Shall I meet other wayfarers at night? + Those who have gone before. 10 +Then must I knock, or call when just in sight? + They will not keep you standing at that door. + +Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? + Of labour you shall find the sum. +Will there be beds for me and all who seek? + Yea, beds for all who come. + + + + +DEVOTIONAL PIECES + + +'THE LOVE OF CHRIST WHICH PASSETH KNOWLEDGE' + + + +I bore with thee long weary days and nights, + Through many pangs of heart, through many tears; +I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights, + For three and thirty years. + +Who else had dared for thee what I have dared? + I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above; +I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared: + Give thou Me love for love. + +For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth, + For thee I trembled in the nightly frost: 10 +Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth: + Why wilt thou still be lost? + +I bore thee on My shoulders and rejoiced: + Men only marked upon My shoulders borne +The branding cross; and shouted hungry-voiced, + Or wagged their heads in scorn. + +Thee did nails grave upon My hands, thy name + Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine eyes: +I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame; + I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. 20 + +A thief upon My right hand and My left; + Six hours alone, athirst, in misery: +At length in death one smote My heart and cleft + A hiding-place for thee. + +Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down + More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and sleep: +So did I win a kingdom,--share my crown; + A harvest,--come and reap. + + + + +'A BRUISED REED SHALL HE NOT BREAK' + + +I will accept thy will to do and be, + Thy hatred and intolerance of sin, + Thy will at least to love, that burns within + And thirsteth after Me: +So will I render fruitful, blessing still, + The germs and small beginnings in thy heart, + Because thy will cleaves to the better part.-- + Alas, I cannot will. + +Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive + The inner unseen longings of the soul, 10 + I guide them turning towards Me; I control + And charm hearts till they grieve: +If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass, + Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love; + For I have power in earth and heaven above.-- + I cannot wish, alas! + +What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet + I still must strive to win thee and constrain: + For thee I hung upon the cross in pain, + How then can I forget? 20 +If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate, + Nor choose, nor wish,--resign thyself, be still + Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will.-- + I do not deprecate. + + + + +A BETTER RESURRECTION + + +I have no wit, no words, no tears; + My heart within me like a stone +Is numbed too much for hopes or fears. + Look right, look left, I dwell alone; +I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief + No everlasting hills I see; +My life is in the falling leaf: + O Jesus, quicken me. + +My life is like a faded leaf, + My harvest dwindled to a husk; 10 +Truly my life is void and brief + And tedious in the barren dusk; +My life is like a frozen thing, + No bud nor greenness can I see: +Yet rise it shall--the sap of Spring; + O Jesus, rise in me. + +My life is like a broken bowl, + A broken bowl that cannot hold +One drop of water for my soul + Or cordial in the searching cold 20 +Cast in the fire the perished thing, + Melt and remould it, till it be +A royal cup for Him my King: + O Jesus, drink of me. + + + + +ADVENT + + +This Advent moon shines cold and clear, + These Advent nights are long; +Our lamps have burned year after year + And still their flame is strong. +'Watchman, what of the night?' we cry, + Heart-sick with hope deferred: +'No speaking signs are in the sky,' + Is still the watchman's word. + +The Porter watches at the gate, + The servants watch within; 10 +The watch is long betimes and late, + The prize is slow to win. +'Watchman, what of the night?' But still + His answer sounds the same: +'No daybreak tops the utmost hill, + Nor pale our lamps of flame.' + +One to another hear them speak + The patient virgins wise: +'Surely He is not far to seek'-- + 'All night we watch and rise.' 20 +'The days are evil looking back, + The coming days are dim; +Yet count we not His promise slack, + But watch and wait for Him.' + +One with another, soul with soul, + They kindle fire from fire: +'Friends watch us who have touched the goal.' + 'They urge us, come up higher.' +'With them shall rest our waysore feet, + With them is built our home, 30 +With Christ.'--'They sweet, but He most sweet, + Sweeter than honeycomb.' + +There no more parting, no more pain, + The distant ones brought near, +The lost so long are found again, + Long lost but longer dear: +Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, + Nor heart conceived that rest, +With them our good things long deferred, + With Jesus Christ our Best. 40 + +We weep because the night is long, + We laugh for day shall rise, +We sing a slow contented song + And knock at Paradise. +Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept + For us, we hold Him fast; +And will not let Him go except + He bless us first or last. + +Weeping we hold Him fast to-night; + We will not let Him go 50 +Till daybreak smite our wearied sight + And summer smite the snow: +Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove + Shall coo the livelong day; +Then He shall say, 'Arise, My love, + My fair one, come away.' + + + + +THE THREE ENEMIES + + +THE FLESH + +'Sweet, thou art pale.' + 'More pale to see, +Christ hung upon the cruel tree +And bore His Father's wrath for me.' + +'Sweet, thou art sad.' + 'Beneath a rod +More heavy, Christ for my sake trod +The winepress of the wrath of God.' + +'Sweet, thou art weary.' + 'Not so Christ: +Whose mighty love of me sufficed +For Strength, Salvation, Eucharist.' + +'Sweet, thou art footsore.' + 'If I bleed, 10 +His feet have bled; yea in my need +His Heart once bled for mine indeed.' + +THE WORLD + +'Sweet, thou art young.' + 'So He was young +Who for my sake in silence hung +Upon the Cross with Passion wrung.' + +'Look, thou art fair.' + 'He was more fair +Than men, Who deigned for me to wear +A visage marred beyond compare.' + +'And thou hast riches.' + 'Daily bread: +All else is His: Who, living, dead, 20 +For me lacked where to lay His Head.' + +'And life is sweet.' + 'It was not so +To Him, Whose Cup did overflow +With mine unutterable woe.' + +THE DEVIL + +'Thou drinkest deep.' + 'When Christ would sup +He drained the dregs from out my cup: +So how should I be lifted up?' + +'Thou shalt win Glory.' + 'In the skies, +Lord Jesus, cover up mine eyes +Lest they should look on vanities.' 30 + +'Thou shalt have Knowledge.' + 'Helpless dust! +In Thee, O Lord, I put my trust: +Answer Thou for me, Wise and Just.' + +'And Might.'-- + 'Get thee behind me. Lord, +Who hast redeemed and not abhorred +My soul, oh keep it by Thy Word.' + + + + +THE ONE CERTAINTY + +Sonnet + + +Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith, + All things are vanity. The eye and ear + Cannot be filled with what they see and hear. +Like early dew, or like the sudden breath +Of wind, or like the grass that withereth, + Is man, tossed to and fro by hope and fear: + So little joy hath he, so little cheer, +Till all things end in the long dust of death. +To-day is still the same as yesterday, + To-morrow also even as one of them; +And there is nothing new under the sun: +Until the ancient race of Time be run, + The old thorns shall grow out of the old stem, +And morning shall be cold and twilight grey. + + + + +CHRISTIAN AND JEW + +A DIALOGUE + + +'Oh happy happy land! +Angels like rushes stand + About the wells of light.'-- + 'Alas, I have not eyes for this fair sight: +Hold fast my hand.'-- + +'As in a soft wind, they +Bend all one blessed way, + Each bowed in his own glory, star with star.'-- + 'I cannot see so far, + Here shadows are.'-- 10 + +'White-winged the cherubim, +Yet whiter seraphim, + Glow white with intense fire of love.'-- +'Mine eyes are dim: + I look in vain above, +And miss their hymn.'-- + +'Angels, Archangels cry +One to other ceaselessly + (I hear them sing) + One "Holy, Holy, Holy" to their King.'-- 20 +'I do not hear them, I.'-- + +'At one side Paradise + Is curtained from the rest, +Made green for wearied eyes; + Much softer than the breast +Of mother-dove clad in a rainbow's dyes. + +'All precious souls are there + Most safe, elect by grace, + All tears are wiped for ever from their face: +Untired in prayer 30 + They wait and praise + Hidden for a little space. + +'Boughs of the Living Vine +They spread in summer shine + Green leaf with leaf: +Sap of the Royal Vine it stirs like wine + In all both less and chief. + +'Sing to the Lord, + All spirits of all flesh, sing; +For He hath not abhorred 40 + Our low estate nor scorn'd our offering: + Shout to our King.'-- + +'But Zion said: + My Lord forgetteth me. +Lo, she hath made her bed + In dust; forsaken weepeth she + Where alien rivers swell the sea. + +'She laid her body as the ground, + Her tender body as the ground to those +Who passed; her harpstrings cannot sound 50 +In a strange land; discrowned + She sits, and drunk with woes.'-- + +'O drunken not with wine, + Whose sins and sorrows have fulfilled the sum,-- + Be not afraid, arise, be no more dumb; +Arise, shine, + For thy light is come.'-- + +'Can these bones live?'-- + 'God knows: + The prophet saw such clothed with flesh and skin; + A wind blew on them and life entered in; 60 +They shook and rose. + Hasten the time, O Lord, blot out their sin, + Let life begin.' + + + + +SWEET DEATH + + +The sweetest blossoms die. + And so it was that, going day by day + Unto the church to praise and pray, +And crossing the green churchyard thoughtfully, + I saw how on the graves the flowers + Shed their fresh leaves in showers, +And how their perfume rose up to the sky + Before it passed away. + +The youngest blossoms die. + They die, and fall and nourish the rich earth 10 + From which they lately had their birth; +Sweet life, but sweeter death that passeth by + And is as though it had not been:-- + All colors turn to green: +The bright hues vanish, and the odours fly, + The grass hath lasting worth. + +And youth and beauty die. + So be it, O my God, Thou God of truth: + Better than beauty and than youth +Are Saints and Angels, a glad company; 20 + And Thou, O lord, our Rest and Ease, + Are better far than these. +Why should we shrink from our full harvest? why + Prefer to glean with Ruth? + + + + +SYMBOLS + + +I watched a rosebud very long + Brought on by dew and sun and shower, + Waiting to see the perfect flower: +Then, when I thought it should be strong, + It opened at the matin hour +And fell at evensong. + +I watched a nest from day to day, + A green nest full of pleasant shade, + Wherein three speckled eggs were laid: +But when they should have hatched in May, 10 + The two old birds had grown afraid +Or tired, and flew away. + +Then in my wrath I broke the bough + That I had tended so with care, + Hoping its scent should fill the air; +I crushed the eggs, not heeding how + Their ancient promise had been fair: +I would have vengeance now. + +But the dead branch spoke from the sod, + And the eggs answered me again: 20 + Because we failed dost thou complain? +Is thy wrath just? And what if God, + Who waiteth for thy fruits in vain, +Should also take the rod? + + + + +'CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD' + + +Flowers preach to us if we will hear:-- +The rose saith in the dewy morn: +I am most fair; +Yet all my loveliness is born +Upon a thorn. +The poppy saith amid the corn: +Let but my scarlet head appear +And I am held in scorn; +Yet juice of subtle virtue lies +Within my cup of curious dyes. 10 +The lilies say: Behold how we +Preach without words of purity. +The violets whisper from the shade +Which their own leaves have made: +Men scent our fragrance on the air, +Yet take no heed +Of humble lessons we would read. +But not alone the fairest flowers: +The merest grass +Along the roadside where we pass, 20 +Lichen and moss and sturdy weed, +Tell of His love who sends the dew, +The rain and sunshine too, +To nourish one small seed. + + + + +THE WORLD + +Sonnet + + +By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair: + But all night as the moon so changeth she; + Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy +And subtle serpents gliding in her hair. +By day she woos me to the outer air, + Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety: + But through the night, a beast she grins at me, +A very monster void of love and prayer. +By day she stands a lie: by night she stands + In all the naked horror of the truth +With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands. +Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell + My soul to her, give her my life and youth, +Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell? + + + + +A TESTIMONY + + +I said of laughter: it is vain. + Of mirth I said: what profits it? + Therefore I found a book, and writ +Therein how ease and also pain, +How health and sickness, every one +Is vanity beneath the sun. + +Man walks in a vain shadow; he + Disquieteth himself in vain. + The things that were shall be again; +The rivers do not fill the sea, 10 +But turn back to their secret source; +The winds too turn upon their course. + +Our treasures moth and rust corrupt, + Or thieves break through and steal, or they + Make themselves wings and fly away. +One man made merry as he supped, +Nor guessed how when that night grew dim, +His soul would be required of him. + +We build our houses on the sand + Comely withoutside and within; 20 + But when the winds and rains begin +To beat on them, they cannot stand; +They perish, quickly overthrown, +Loose from the very basement stone. + +All things are vanity, I said: + Yea vanity of vanities. + The rich man dies; and the poor dies: +The worm feeds sweetly on the dead. +Whate'er thou lackest, keep this trust: +All in the end shall have but dust. 30 + +The one inheritance, which best + And worst alike shall find and share: + The wicked cease from troubling there, +And there the weary are at rest; +There all the wisdom of the wise +Is vanity of vanities. + +Man flourishes as a green leaf, + And as a leaf doth pass away; + Or as a shade that cannot stay, +And leaves no track, his course is brief: 40 +Yet doth man hope and fear and plan +Till he is dead:--oh foolish man! + +Our eyes cannot be satisfied + With seeing, nor our ears be filled + With hearing: yet we plant and build +And buy and make our borders wide; +We gather wealth, we gather care, +But know not who shall be our heir. + +Why should we hasten to arise + So early, and so late take rest? 50 + Our labour is not good; our best +Hopes fade; our heart is stayed on lies: +Verily, we sow wind; and we +Shall reap the whirlwind, verily. + +He who hath little shall not lack; + He who hath plenty shall decay: + Our fathers went; we pass away; +Our children follow on our track: +So generations fail, and so +They are renewed, and come and go. 60 + +The earth is fattened with our dead; + She swallows more and doth not cease: + Therefore her wine and oil increase +And her sheaves are not numberèd; +Therefore her plants are green, and all +Her pleasant trees lusty and tall. + +Therefore the maidens cease to sing, + And the young men are very sad; + Therefore the sowing is not glad, +And mournful is the harvesting. 70 +Of high and low, of great and small, +Vanity is the lot of all. + +A King dwelt in Jerusalem; + He was the wisest man on earth; + He had all riches from his birth, +And pleasures till he tired of them; +Then, having tested all things, he +Witnessed that all are vanity. + + + + +SLEEP AT SEA + + +Sound the deep waters:-- + Who shall sound that deep?-- +Too short the plummet, + And the watchmen sleep. +Some dream of effort + Up a toilsome steep; +Some dream of pasture grounds + For harmless sheep. + +White shapes flit to and fro + From mast to mast; 10 +They feel the distant tempest + That nears them fast: +Great rocks are straight ahead, + Great shoals not past; +They shout to one another + Upon the blast. + +Oh, soft the streams drop music + Between the hills, +And musical the birds' nests + Beside those rills: 20 +The nests are types of home + Love-hidden from ills, +The nests are types of spirits + Love-music fills. + +So dream the sleepers, + Each man in his place; +The lightning shows the smile + Upon each face: +The ship is driving, driving, + It drives apace: 30 +And sleepers smile, and spirits + Bewail their case. + +The lightning glares and reddens + Across the skies; +It seems but sunset + To those sleeping eyes. +When did the sun go down + On such a wise? +From such a sunset + When shall day arise? 40 + +'Wake,' call the spirits: + But to heedless ears: +They have forgotten sorrows + And hopes and fears; +They have forgotten perils + And smiles and tears; +Their dream has held them long, + Long years and years. + +'Wake,' call the spirits again: + But it would take 50 +A louder summons + To bid them awake. +Some dream of pleasure + For another's sake; +Some dream, forgetful + Of a lifelong ache. + +One by one slowly, + Ah, how sad and slow! +Wailing and praying + The spirits rise and go: 60 +Clear stainless spirits + White as white as snow; +Pale spirits, wailing + For an overthrow. + +One by one flitting, + Like a mournful bird +Whose song is tired at last + For no mate is heard. +The loving voice is silent, + The useless word; 70 +One by one flitting + Sick with hope deferred. + +Driving and driving, + The ship drives amain: +While swift from mast to mast + Shapes flit again, +Flit silent as the silence + Where men lie slain; +Their shadow cast upon the sails + Is like a stain. 80 + +No voice to call the sleepers, + No hand to raise: +They sleep to death in dreaming, + Of length of days. +Vanity of vanities, + The Preacher says: +Vanity is the end + Of all their ways. + + + + +FROM HOUSE TO HOME + + +The first was like a dream through summer heat, + The second like a tedious numbing swoon, +While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat + Beneath a winter moon. + +'But,' says my friend, 'what was this thing and where?' + It was a pleasure-place within my soul; +An earthly paradise supremely fair + That lured me from the goal. + +The first part was a tissue of hugged lies; + The second was its ruin fraught with pain: 10 +Why raise the fair delusion to the skies + But to be dashed again? + +My castle stood of white transparent glass + Glittering and frail with many a fretted spire, +But when the summer sunset came to pass + It kindled into fire. + +My pleasaunce was an undulating green, + Stately with trees whose shadows slept below, +With glimpses of smooth garden-beds between + Like flame or sky or snow. 20 + +Swift squirrels on the pastures took their ease, + With leaping lambs safe from the unfeared knife; +All singing-birds rejoicing in those trees + Fulfilled their careless life. + +Woodpigeons cooed there, stockdoves nestled there; + My trees were full of songs and flowers and fruit, +Their branches spread a city to the air + And mice lodged in their root. + +My heath lay farther off, where lizards lived + In strange metallic mail, just spied and gone; 30 +Like darted lightnings here and there perceived + But nowhere dwelt upon. + +Frogs and fat toads were there to hop or plod + And propagate in peace, an uncouth crew, +Where velvet-headed rushes rustling nod + And spill the morning dew. + +All caterpillars throve beneath my rule, + With snails and slugs in corners out of sight; +I never marred the curious sudden stool + That perfects in a night. 40 + +Safe in his excavated gallery + The burrowing mole groped on from year to year; +No harmless hedgehog curled because of me + His prickly back for fear. + +Oft times one like an angel walked with me, + With spirit-discerning eyes like flames of fire, +But deep as the unfathomed endless sea, + Fulfilling my desire: + +And sometimes like a snowdrift he was fair, + And sometimes like a sunset glorious red, 50 +And sometimes he had wings to scale the air + With aureole round his head. + +We sang our songs together by the way, + Calls and recalls and echoes of delight; +So communed we together all the day, + And so in dreams by night. + +I have no words to tell what way we walked. + What unforgotten path now closed and sealed; +I have no words to tell all things we talked, + All things that he revealed: 60 + +This only can I tell: that hour by hour + I waxed more feastful, lifted up and glad; +I felt no thorn-prick when I plucked a flower, + Felt not my friend was sad. + +'To-morrow,' once I said to him with smiles: + 'To-night,' he answered gravely and was dumb, +But pointed out the stones that numbered miles + And miles to come. + +'Not so,' I said: 'to-morrow shall be sweet; + To-night is not so sweet as coming days.' 70 +Then first I saw that he had turned his feet, + Had turned from me his face: + +Running and flying miles and miles he went, + But once looked back to beckon with his hand +And cry: 'Come home, O love, from banishment: + Come to the distant land.' + +That night destroyed me like an avalanche; + One night turned all my summer back to snow: +Next morning not a bird upon my branch, + Not a lamb woke below,-- 80 + +No bird, no lamb, no living breathing thing; + No squirrel scampered on my breezy lawn, +No mouse lodged by his hoard: all joys took wing + And fled before that dawn. + +Azure and sun were starved from heaven above, + No dew had fallen, but biting frost lay hoar: +O love, I knew that I should meet my love, + Should find my love no more. + +'My love no more,' I muttered stunned with pain: + I shed no tear, I wrung no passionate hand, 90 +Till something whispered: 'You shall meet again, + Meet in a distant land.' + +Then with a cry like famine I arose, + I lit my candle, searched from room to room, +Searched up and down; a war of winds that froze + Swept through the blank of gloom. + +I searched day after day, night after night; + Scant change there came to me of night or day: +'No more,' I wailed, 'no more:' and trimmed my light, + And gnashed but did not pray, 100 + +Until my heart broke and my spirit broke: + Upon the frost-bound floor I stumbled, fell, +And moaned: 'It is enough: withhold the stroke. + Farewell, O love, farewell.' + +Then life swooned from me. And I heard the song + Of spheres and spirits rejoicing over me: +One cried: 'Our sister, she hath suffered long.'-- + One answered: 'Make her see.'-- + +One cried: 'Oh blessèd she who no more pain, + Who no more disappointment shall receive.'-- 110 +One answered: 'Not so: she must live again; + Strengthen thou her to live.' + +So while I lay entranced a curtain seemed + To shrivel with crackling from before my face; +Across mine eyes a waxing radiance beamed + And showed a certain place. + +I saw a vision of a woman, where + Night and new morning strive for domination; +Incomparably pale, and almost fair, + And sad beyond expression. 120 + +Her eyes were like some fire-enshrining gem, + Were stately like the stars, and yet were tender; +Her figure charmed me like a windy stem + Quivering and drooped and slender. + +I stood upon the outer barren ground, + She stood on inner ground that budded flowers; +While circling in their never-slackening round + Danced by the mystic hours. + +But every flower was lifted on a thorn, + And every thorn shot upright from its sands 130 +To gall her feet; hoarse laughter pealed in scorn + With cruel clapping hands. + +She bled and wept, yet did not shrink; her strength + Was strung up until daybreak of delight: +She measured measureless sorrow toward its length, + And breadth, and depth, and height. + +Then marked I how a chain sustained her form, + A chain of living links not made nor riven: +It stretched sheer up through lighting, wind, and storm, + And anchored fast in heaven. 140 + +One cried: 'How long? yet founded on the Rock + She shall do battle, suffer, and attain.'-- +One answered: 'Faith quakes in the tempest shock: + Strengthen her soul again.' + +I saw a cup sent down and come to her + Brimfull of loathing and of bitterness: +She drank with livid lips that seemed to stir + The depth, not make it less. + +But as she drank I spied a hand distil + New wine and virgin honey; making it 150 +First bitter-sweet, then sweet indeed, until + She tasted only sweet. + +Her lips and cheeks waxed rosy-fresh and young; + Drinking she sang: 'My soul shall nothing want;' +And drank anew: while soft a song was sung, + A mystical slow chant. + +One cried: 'The wounds are faithful of a friend: + The wilderness shall blossom as a rose.'-- +One answered: 'Rend the veil, declare the end, + Strengthen her ere she goes.' 160 + +Then earth and heaven were rolled up like a scroll; + Time and space, change and death, had passed away; +Weight, number, measure, each had reached its whole; + The day had come, that day. + +Multitudes--multitudes--stood up in bliss, + Made equal to the angels, glorious, fair; +With harps, palms, wedding-garments, kiss of peace + And crowned and haloed hair. + +They sang a song, a new song in the height, + Harping with harps to Him Who is Strong and True: 170 +They drank new wine, their eyes saw with new light, + Lo, all things were made new. + +Tier beyond tier they rose and rose and rose + So high that it was dreadful, flames with flames: +No man could number them, no tongue disclose + Their secret sacred names. + +As though one pulse stirred all, one rush of blood + Fed all, one breath swept through them myriad-voiced, +They struck their harps, cast down their crowns, they stood + And worshipped and rejoiced. 180 + +Each face looked one way like a moon new-lit, + Each face looked one way towards its Sun of Love; +Drank love and bathed in love and mirrored it + And knew no end thereof. + +Glory touched glory on each blessèd head, + Hands locked dear hands never to sunder more: +These were the new-begotten from the dead + Whom the great birthday bore. + +Heart answered heart, soul answered soul at rest, + Double against each other, filled, sufficed: 190 +All loving, loved of all; but loving best + And best beloved of Christ. + +I saw that one who lost her love in pain, + Who trod on thorns, who drank the loathsome cup; +The lost in night, in day was found again; + The fallen was lifted up. + +They stood together in the blessèd noon, + They sang together through the length of days; +Each loving face bent Sunwards like a moon + New-lit with love and praise. 200 + +Therefore, O friend, I would not if I might + Rebuild my house of lies, wherein I joyed +One time to dwell: my soul shall walk in white, + Cast down but not destroyed. + +Therefore in patience I possess my soul; + Yea, therefore as a flint I set my face, +To pluck down, to build up again the whole-- + But in a distant place. + +These thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them; + This cup is loathsome, yet He makes it sweet: 210 +My face is steadfast toward Jerusalem, + My heart remembers it. + +I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees-- + I, precious more than seven times molten gold-- +Until the day when from his storehouses + God shall bring new and old; + +Beauty for ashes, oil of joy for grief, + Garment of praise for spirit of heaviness: +Although to-day I fade as doth a leaf, + I languish and grow less. 220 + +Although to-day He prunes my twigs with pain, + Yet doth His blood nourish and warm my root: +To-morrow I shall put forth buds again + And clothe myself with fruit. + +Although to-day I walk in tedious ways, + To-day His staff is turned into a rod, +Yet will I wait for Him the appointed days + And stay upon my God. + + + + +OLD AND NEW YEAR DITTIES + + +1 + +New Year met me somewhat sad: + Old Year leaves me tired, +Stripped of favourite things I had + Baulked of much desired: +Yet farther on my road to-day +God willing, farther on my way. + +New Year coming on apace + What have you to give me? +Bring you scathe, or bring you grace, +Face me with an honest face; 10 + You shall not deceive me: +Be it good or ill, be it what you will, +It needs shall help me on my road, +My rugged way to heaven, please God. + +2 + +Watch with me, men, women, and children dear, +You whom I love, for whom I hope and fear, +Watch with me this last vigil of the year. +Some hug their business, some their pleasure-scheme; +Some seize the vacant hour to sleep or dream; +Heart locked in heart some kneel and watch apart. + +Watch with me blessèd spirits, who delight +All through the holy night to walk in white, +Or take your ease after the long-drawn fight. +I know not if they watch with me: I know 10 +They count this eve of resurrection slow, +And cry, 'How long?' with urgent utterance strong. + +Watch with me Jesus, in my loneliness: +Though others say me nay, yet say Thou yes; +Though others pass me by, stop Thou to bless. +Yea, Thou dost stop with me this vigil night; +To-night of pain, to-morrow of delight: +I, Love, am Thine; Thou, Lord my God, art mine. + +3 + +Passing away, saith the World, passing away: +Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day: +Thy life never continueth in one stay. +Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey +That hath won neither laurel nor bay? +I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May: +Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay +On my bosom for aye. +Then I answered: Yea. + +Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away: 10 +With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play; +Hearken what the past doth witness and say: +Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array, +A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay. +At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day +Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay: +Watch thou and pray. +Then I answered: Yea. + +Passing away, saith my God, passing away: +Winter passeth after the long delay: 20 +New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray, +Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May. +Though I tarry wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray: +Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day, +My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say. +Then I answered: Yea. + + + + +AMEN + + +It is over. What is over? + Nay, now much is over truly!-- +Harvest days we toiled to sow for; + Now the sheaves are gathered newly, + Now the wheat is garnered duly. + +It is finished. What is finished? + Much is finished known or unknown: +Lives are finished; time diminished; + Was the fallow field left unsown? + Will these buds be always unblown? 10 + +It suffices. What suffices? + All suffices reckoned rightly: +Spring shall bloom where now the ice is, + Roses make the bramble sightly, + And the quickening sun shine brightly, + And the latter wind blow lightly, +And my garden teem with spices. + + + + +THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS, AND OTHER POEMS, 1866 + + + + +THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS + + +Till all sweet gums and juices flow, +Till the blossom of blossoms blow, +The long hours go and come and go, + The bride she sleepeth, waketh, sleepeth, +Waiting for one whose coming is slow:-- + Hark! the bride weepeth. + +'How long shall I wait, come heat come rime?'-- +'Till the strong Prince comes, who must come in time' +(Her women say), 'there's a mountain to climb, + A river to ford. Sleep, dream and sleep; 10 +Sleep' (they say): 'we've muffled the chime, + Better dream than weep.' + +In his world-end palace the strong Prince sat, +Taking his ease on cushion and mat, +Close at hand lay his staff and his hat. + 'When wilt thou start? the bride waits, O youth.'-- +'Now the moon's at full; I tarried for that, + Now I start in truth. + +'But tell me first, true voice of my doom, +Of my veiled bride in her maiden bloom; 20 +Keeps she watch through glare and through gloom, + Watch for me asleep and awake?'-- +'Spell-bound she watches in one white room, + And is patient for thy sake. + +'By her head lilies and rosebuds grow; +The lilies droop, will the rosebuds blow? +The silver slim lilies hang the head low; + Their stream is scanty, their sunshine rare: +Let the sun blaze out, and let the stream flow, + They will blossom and wax fair. 30 + +'Red and white poppies grow at her feet, +The blood-red wait for sweet summer heat, +Wrapped in bud-coats hairy and neat; + But the white buds swell, one day they will burst, +Will open their death-cups drowsy and sweet-- + Which will open the first?' + +Then a hundred sad voices lifted a wail, +And a hundred glad voices piped on the gale: +'Time is short, life is short,' they took up the tale: + 'Life is sweet, love is sweet, use to-day while you may; 40 +Love is sweet, and to-morrow may fail; + Love is sweet, use to-day.' + +While the song swept by, beseeching and meek, +Up rose the Prince with a flush on his cheek, +Up he rose to stir and to seek, + Going forth in the joy of his strength; +Strong of limb if of purpose weak, + Starting at length. + +Forth he set in the breezy morn, +Crossing green fields of nodding corn, 50 +As goodly a Prince as ever was born; + Carolling with the carolling lark;-- +Sure his bride will be won and worn, + Ere fall of the dark. + +So light his step, so merry his smile, +A milkmaid loitered beside a stile, +Set down her pail and rested awhile, + A wave-haired milkmaid, rosy and white; +The Prince, who had journeyed at least a mile, + Grew athirst at the sight. 60 + +'Will you give me a morning draught?'-- +'You're kindly welcome,' she said, and laughed. +He lifted the pail, new milk he quaffed; + Then wiping his curly black beard like silk: +'Whitest cow that ever was calved + Surely gave you this milk.' + +Was it milk now, or was it cream? +Was she a maid, or an evil dream? +Here eyes began to glitter and gleam; + He would have gone, but he stayed instead; 70 +Green they gleamed as he looked in them: + 'Give me my fee,' she said.-- + +'I will give you a jewel of gold.'-- +'Not so; gold is heavy and cold.'-- +'I will give you a velvet fold + Of foreign work your beauty to deck.'-- +'Better I like my kerchief rolled + Light and white round my neck.'-- + +'Nay,' cried he, 'but fix your own fee.'-- +She laughed, 'You may give the full moon to me; 80 +Or else sit under this apple-tree + Here for one idle day by my side; +After that I'll let you go free, + And the world is wide.' + +Loth to stay, but to leave her slack, +He half turned away, then he quite turned back: +For courtesy's sake he could not lack + To redeem his own royal pledge; +Ahead too the windy heaven lowered black + With a fire-cloven edge. 90 + +So he stretched his length in the apple-tree shade, +Lay and laughed and talked to the maid, +Who twisted her hair in a cunning braid + And writhed it shining in serpent-coils, +And held him a day and night fast laid + In her subtle toils. + +At the death of night and the birth of day, +When the owl left off his sober play, +And the bat hung himself out of the way, + Woke the song of mavis and merle, 100 +And heaven put off its hodden grey + For mother-o'-pearl. + +Peeped up daisies here and there, +Here, there, and everywhere; +Rose a hopeful lark in the air, + Spreading out towards the sun his breast; +While the moon set solemn and fair + Away in the West. + +'Up, up, up,' called the watchman lark, +In his clear réveillée: 'Hearken, oh hark! 110 +Press to the high goal, fly to the mark. + Up, O sluggard, new morn is born; +If still asleep when the night falls dark, + Thou must wait a second morn.' + +'Up, up, up,' sad glad voices swelled: +'So the tree falls and lies as it's felled. +Be thy bands loosed, O sleeper, long held + In sweet sleep whose end is not sweet. +Be the slackness girt and the softness quelled + And the slowness fleet.' 120 + +Off he set. The grass grew rare, +A blight lurked in the darkening air, +The very moss grew hueless and spare, + The last daisy stood all astunt; +Behind his back the soil lay bare, + But barer in front. + +A land of chasm and rent, a land +Of rugged blackness on either hand: +If water trickled its track was tanned + With an edge of rust to the chink; 130 +If one stamped on stone or on sand + It returned a clink. + +A lifeless land, a loveless land, +Without lair or nest on either hand: +Only scorpions jerked in the sand, + Black as black iron, or dusty pale; +From point to point sheer rock was manned + By scorpions in mail. + +A land of neither life nor death, +Where no man buildeth or fashioneth, 140 +Where none draws living or dying breath; + No man cometh or goeth there, +No man doeth, seeketh, saith, + In the stagnant air. + +Some old volcanic upset must +Have rent the crust and blackened the crust; +Wrenched and ribbed it beneath its dust + Above earth's molten centre at seethe, +Heaved and heaped it by huge upthrust + Of fire beneath. 150 + +Untrodden before, untrodden since: +Tedious land for a social Prince; +Halting, he scanned the outs and ins, + Endless, labyrinthine, grim, +Of the solitude that made him wince, + Laying wait for him. + +By bulging rock and gaping cleft, +Even of half mere daylight reft, +Rueful he peered to right and left, + Muttering in his altered mood: 160 +'The fate is hard that weaves my weft, + Though my lot be good.' + +Dim the changes of day to night, +Of night scarce dark to day not bright. +Still his road wound towards the right, + Still he went, and still he went, +Till one night he espied a light, + In his discontent. + +Out it flashed from a yawn-mouthed cave, +Like a red-hot eye from a grave. 170 +No man stood there of whom to crave + Rest for wayfarer plodding by: +Though the tenant were churl or knave + The Prince might try. + +In he passed and tarried not, +Groping his way from spot to spot, +Towards where the cavern flare glowed hot:-- + An old, old mortal, cramped and double, +Was peering into a seething-pot, + In a world of trouble. 180 + +The veriest atomy he looked, +With grimy fingers clutching and crooked, +Tight skin, a nose all bony and hooked, + And a shaking, sharp, suspicious way; +His blinking eyes had scarcely brooked + The light of day. + +Stared the Prince, for the sight was new; +Stared, but asked without more ado: +'My a weary traveller lodge with you, + Old father, here in your lair? 190 +In your country the inns seem few, + And scanty the fare.' + +The head turned not to hear him speak; +The old voice whistled as through a leak +(Out it came in a quavering squeak): + 'Work for wage is a bargain fit: +If there's aught of mine that you seek + You must work for it. + +'Buried alive from light and air +This year is the hundredth year, 200 +I feed my fire with a sleepless care, + Watching my potion wane or wax: +Elixir of Life is simmering there, + And but one thing lacks. + +'If you're fain to lodge here with me, +Take that pair of bellows you see-- +Too heavy for my old hands they be-- + Take the bellows and puff and puff: +When the steam curls rosy and free + The broth's boiled enough. 210 + +'Then take your choice of all I have; +I will give you life if you crave. +Already I'm mildewed for the grave, + So first myself I must drink my fill: +But all the rest may be yours, to save + Whomever you will.' + +'Done,' quoth the Prince, and the bargain stood, +First he piled on resinous wood, +Next plied the bellows in hopeful mood; + Thinking, 'My love and I will live. 220 +If I tarry, why life is good, + And she may forgive.' + +The pot began to bubble and boil; +The old man cast in essence and oil, +He stirred all up with a triple coil + Of gold and silver and iron wire, +Dredged in a pinch of virgin soil, + And fed the fire. + +But still the steam curled watery white; +Night turned to day and day to night; 230 +One thing lacked, by his feeble sight + Unseen, unguessed by his feeble mind: +Life might miss him, but Death the blight + Was sure to find. + +So when the hundredth year was full +The thread was cut and finished the school. +Death snapped the old worn-out tool, + Snapped him short while he stood and stirred +(Though stiff he stood as a stiff-necked mule) + With never a word. 240 + +Thus at length the old crab was nipped. +The dead hand slipped, the dead finger dipped +In the broth as the dead man slipped,-- + That same instant, a rosy red +Flushed the steam, and quivered and clipped + Round the dead old head. + +The last ingredient was supplied +(Unless the dead man mistook or lied). +Up started the Prince, he cast aside + The bellows plied through the tedious trial, 250 +Made sure that his host had died, + And filled a phial. + +'One night's rest,' though the Prince: 'This done, +Forth I start with the rising sun: +With the morrow I rise and run, + Come what will of wind or of weather. +This draught of Life when my Bride is won + We'll drink together.' + +Thus the dead man stayed in his grave, +Self-chosen, the dead man in his cave; 260 +There he stayed, were he fool or knave, + Or honest seeker who had not found: +While the Prince outside was prompt to crave + Sleep on the ground. + +'If she watches, go bid her sleep; +Bit her sleep, for the road is steep: +He can sleep who holdeth her cheap, + Sleep and wake and sleep again. +Let him sow, one day he shall reap, + Let him sow the grain. 270 + +'When there blows a sweet garden rose, +Let it bloom and wither if no man knows: +But if one knows when the sweet thing blows, + Knows, and lets it open and drop, +If but a nettle his garden grows + He hath earned the crop.' + +Through his sleep the summons rang, +Into his ears it sobbed and it sang. +Slow he woke with a drowsy pang, + Shook himself without much debate, 280 +Turned where he saw green branches hang, + Started though late. + +For the black land was travelled o'er, +He should see the grim land no more. +A flowering country stretched before + His face when the lovely day came back: +He hugged the phial of Life he bore, + And resumed his track. + +By willow courses he took his path, +Spied what a nest the kingfisher hath, 290 +Marked the fields green to aftermath, + Marked where the red-brown field-mouse ran, +Loitered a while for a deep-stream bath, + Yawned for a fellow-man. + +Up on the hills not a soul in view, +In a vale not many nor few; +Leaves, still leaves, and nothing new. + It's oh for a second maiden, at least, +To bear the flagon, and taste it too, + And flavour the feast. 300 + +Lagging he moved, and apt to swerve; +Lazy of limb, but quick of nerve. +At length the water-bed took a curve, + The deep river swept its bankside bare; +Waters streamed from the hill-reserve-- + Waters here, waters there. + +High above, and deep below, +Bursting, bubbling, swelling the flow, +Like hill torrents after the snow,-- + Bubbling, gurgling, in whirling strife, 310 +Swaying, sweeping, to and fro,-- + He must swim for his life. + +Which way?--which way?--his eyes grew dim +With the dizzying whirl--which way to swim? +The thunderous downshoot deafened him; + Half he choked in the lashing spray: +Life is sweet, and the grave is grim-- + Which way?--which way? + +A flash of light, a shout from the strand: +'This way--this way; here lies the land!' 320 +His phial clutched in one drowning hand; + He catches--misses--catches a rope; +His feet slip on the slipping sand: + Is there life?--is there hope? + +Just saved, without pulse or breath,-- +Scarcely saved from the gulp of death; +Laid where a willow shadoweth-- + Laid where a swelling turf is smooth. +(O Bride! but the Bridegroom lingereth + For all thy sweet youth.) 330 + +Kind hands do and undo, +Kind voices whisper and coo: +'I will chafe his hands'--'And I'--'And you + Raise his head, put his hair aside.' +(If many laugh, one well may rue: + Sleep on, thou Bride.) + +So the Prince was tended with care: +One wrung foul ooze from his clustered hair; +Two chafed his hands, and did not spare; + But one held his drooping head breast-high, 340 +Till his eyes oped, and at unaware + They met eye to eye. + +Oh, a moon face in a shadowy place, +And a light touch and a winsome grace, +And a thrilling tender voice that says: + 'Safe from waters that seek the sea-- +Cold waters by rugged ways-- + Safe with me.' + +While overhead bird whistles to bird, +And round about plays a gamesome herd: 350 +'Safe with us'--some take up the word-- + 'Safe with us, dear lord and friend: +All the sweeter if long deferred + Is rest in the end.' + +Had he stayed to weigh and to scan, +He had been more or less than a man: +He did what a young man can, + Spoke of toil and an arduous way-- +Toil to-morrow, while golden ran + The sands of to-day. 360 + +Slip past, slip fast, +Uncounted hours from first to last, +Many hours till the last is past, + Many hours dwindling to one-- +One hour whose die is cast, + One last hour gone. + +Come, gone--gone for ever-- +Gone as an unreturning river-- +Gone as to death the merriest liver-- + Gone as the year at the dying fall-- 370 +To-morrow, to-day, yesterday, never-- + Gone once for all. + +Came at length the starting-day, +With last words, and last words to say, +With bodiless cries from far away-- + Chiding wailing voices that rang +Like a trumpet-call to the tug and fray; + And thus they sang: + +'Is there life?--the lamp burns low; +Is there hope?--the coming is slow: 380 +The promise promised so long ago, + The long promise, has not been kept. +Does she live?--does she die?--she slumbers so + Who so oft has wept. + +'Does she live?--does she die?--she languisheth +As a lily drooping to death, +As a drought-worn bird with failing breath, + As a lovely vine without a stay, +As a tree whereof the owner saith, + "Hew it down to-day."' 390 + +Stung by that word the Prince was fain +To start on his tedious road again. +He crossed the stream where a ford was plain, + He clomb the opposite bank though steep, +And swore to himself to strain and attain + Ere he tasted sleep. + +Huge before him a mountain frowned +With foot of rock on the valley ground, +And head with snows incessant crowned, + And a cloud mantle about its strength, 400 +And a path which the wild goat hath not found + In its breadth and length. + +But he was strong to do and dare: +If a host had withstood him there, +He had braved a host with little care + In his lusty youth and his pride, +Tough to grapple though weak to snare. + He comes, O Bride. + +Up he went where the goat scarce clings, +Up where the eagle folds her wings, 410 +Past the green line of living things, + Where the sun cannot warm the cold,-- +Up he went as a flame enrings + Where there seems no hold. + +Up a fissure barren and black, +Till the eagles tired upon his track, +And the clouds were left behind his back, + Up till the utmost peak was past, +Then he gasped for breath and his strength fell slack; + He paused at last. 420 + +Before his face a valley spread +Where fatness laughed, wine, oil, and bread, +Where all fruit-trees their sweetness shed, + Where all birds made love to their kind, +Where jewels twinkled, and gold lay red + And not hard to find. + +Midway down the mountain side +(On its green slope the path was wide) +Stood a house for a royal bride, + Built all of changing opal stone, 430 +The royal palace, till now descried + In his dreams alone. + +Less bold than in days of yore, +Doubting now though never before, +Doubting he goes and lags the more: + Is the time late? does the day grow dim? +Rose, will she open the crimson core + Of her heart to him? + +Take heart of grace! the potion of Life +May go far to woo him a wife: 440 +If she frown, yet a lover's strife + Lightly raised can be laid again: +A hasty word is never the knife + To cut love in twain. + +Far away stretched the royal land, +Fed by dew, by a spice-wind fanned: +Light labour more, and his foot would stand + On the threshold, all labour done; +Easy pleasure laid at his hand, + And the dear Bride won. 450 + +His slackening steps pause at the gate-- +Does she wake or sleep?--the time is late-- +Does she sleep now, or watch and wait? + She has watched, she has waited long, +Watching athwart the golden grate + With a patient song. + +Fling the golden portals wide, +The Bridegroom comes to his promised Bride; +Draw the gold-stiff curtains aside, + Let them look on each other's face, 460 +She in her meekness, he in his pride-- + Day wears apace. + +Day is over, the day that wore. +What is this that comes through the door, +The face covered, the feet before? + This that coming takes his breath; +The Bride not seen, to be seen no more + Save of Bridegroom Death? + +Veiled figures carrying her +Sweep by yet make no stir; 470 +There is a smell of spice and myrrh, + A bride-chant burdened with one name; +The bride-song rises steadier + Than the torches' flame: + +'Too late for love, too late for joy, + Too late, too late! +You loitered on the road too long, + You trifled at the gate: +The enchanted dove upon her branch + Died without a mate; 480 +The enchanted princess in her tower + Slept, died, behind the grate; +Her heart was starving all this while + You made it wait. + +'Ten years ago, five years ago, + One year ago, +Even then you had arrived in time, + Though somewhat slow; +Then you had known her living face + Which now you cannot know: 490 +The frozen fountain would have leaped, + The buds gone on to blow, +The warm south wind would have awaked + To melt the snow. + +'Is she fair now as she lies? + Once she was fair; +Meet queen for any kingly king, + With gold-dust on her hair. +Now these are poppies in her locks, + White poppies she must wear; 500 +Must wear a veil to shroud her face + And the want graven there: +Or is the hunger fed at length, + Cast off the care? + +'We never saw her with a smile + Or with a frown; +Her bed seemed never soft to her, + Though tossed of down; +She little heeded what she wore, + Kirtle, or wreath, or gown; 510 +We think her white brows often ached + Beneath her crown, +Till silvery hairs showed in her locks + That used to be so brown. + +'We never heard her speak in haste; + Her tones were sweet, +And modulated just so much + As it was meet: +Her heart sat silent through the noise + And concourse of the street. 520 +There was no hurry in her hands, + No hurry in her feet; +There was no bliss drew nigh to her, + That she might run to greet. + +'You should have wept her yesterday, + Wasting upon her bed: +But wherefore should you weep to-day + That she is dead? +Lo, we who love weep not to-day, + But crown her royal head. 530 +Let be these poppies that we strew, + Your roses are too red: +Let be these poppies, not for you + Cut down and spread.' + + + + +MAIDEN-SONG + + +Long ago and long ago, + And long ago still, +There dwelt three merry maidens + Upon a distant hill. +One was tall Meggan, + And one was dainty May, +But one was fair Margaret, + More fair than I can say, +Long ago and long ago. + +When Meggan plucked the thorny rose, 10 + And when May pulled the brier, +Half the birds would swoop to see, + Half the beasts draw nigher; +Half the fishes of the streams + Would dart up to admire: +But when Margaret plucked a flag-flower, + Or poppy hot aflame, +All the beasts and all the birds + And all the fishes came +To her hand more soft than snow. 20 + +Strawberry leaves and May-dew + In brisk morning air, +Strawberry leaves and May-dew + Make maidens fair. +'I go for strawberry leaves,' + Meggan said one day: +'Fair Margaret can bide at home, + But you come with me, May; +Up the hill and down the hill, + Along the winding way 30 +You and I are used to go.' + +So these two fair sisters + Went with innocent will +Up the hill and down again, + And round the homestead hill: +While the fairest sat at home, + Margaret like a queen, +Like a blush-rose, like the moon + In her heavenly sheen, +Fragrant-breathed as milky cow 40 + Or field of blossoming bean, +Graceful as an ivy bough + Born to cling and lean; +Thus she sat to sing and sew. + +When she raised her lustrous eyes + A beast peeped at the door; +When she downward cast her eyes + A fish gasped on the floor; +When she turned away her eyes + A bird perched on the sill, 50 +Warbling out its heart of love, + Warbling warbling still, +With pathetic pleadings low. + +Light-foot May with Meggan + Sought the choicest spot, +Clothed with thyme-alternate grass: + Then, while day waxed hot, +Sat at ease to play and rest, + A gracious rest and play; +The loveliest maidens near or far, 60 + When Margaret was away, +Who sat at home to sing and sew. + +Sun-glow flushed their comely cheeks, + Wind-play tossed their hair, +Creeping things among the grass + Stroked them here and there; +Meggan piped a merry note, + A fitful wayward lay, +While shrill as bird on topmost twig + Piped merry May; 70 +Honey-smooth the double flow. + +Sped a herdsman from the vale, + Mounting like a flame, +All on fire to hear and see, + With floating locks he came. +Looked neither north nor south, + Neither east nor west, +But sat him down at Meggan's feet + As love-bird on his nest, +And wooed her with a silent awe, 80 + With trouble not expressed; +She sang the tears into his eyes, + The heart out of his breast: +So he loved her, listening so. + +She sang the heart out of his breast, + The words out of his tongue; +Hand and foot and pulse he paused + Till her song was sung. +Then he spoke up from his place + Simple words and true: 90 +'Scanty goods have I to give, + Scanty skill to woo; +But I have a will to work, + And a heart for you: +Bid me stay or bid me go.' + +Then Meggan mused within herself: + 'Better be first with him, +Than dwell where fairer Margaret sits, + Who shines my brightness dim, +For ever second where she sits, 100 + However fair I be: +I will be lady of his love, + And he shall worship me; +I will be lady of his herds + And stoop to his degree, +At home where kids and fatlings grow.' + +Sped a shepherd from the height + Headlong down to look, +(White lambs followed, lured by love + Of their shepherd's crook): 110 +He turned neither east nor west, + Neither north nor south, +But knelt right down to May, for love + Of her sweet-singing mouth; +Forgot his flocks, his panting flocks + In parching hill-side drouth; +Forgot himself for weal or woe. + +Trilled her song and swelled her song + With maiden coy caprice +In a labyrinth of throbs, 120 + Pauses, cadences; +Clear-noted as a dropping brook, + Soft-noted like the bees, +Wild-noted as the shivering wind + Forlorn through forest trees: +Love-noted like the wood-pigeon + Who hides herself for love, +Yet cannot keep her secret safe, + But coos and coos thereof: +Thus the notes rang loud or low. 130 + +He hung breathless on her breath; + Speechless, who listened well; +Could not speak or think or wish + Till silence broke the spell. +Then he spoke, and spread his hands, + Pointing here and there: +'See my sheep and see the lambs, + Twin lambs which they bare. +All myself I offer you, + All my flocks and care, 140 +Your sweet song hath moved me so.' + +In her fluttered heart young May + Mused a dubious while: +'If he loves me as he says'-- + Her lips curved with a smile: +'Where Margaret shines like the sun + I shine but like a moon; +If sister Meggan makes her choice + I can make mine as soon; +At cockcrow we were sister-maids, 150 + We may be brides at noon.' +Said Meggan, 'Yes;' May said not 'No.' + +Fair Margaret stayed alone at home, + Awhile she sang her song, +Awhile sat silent, then she thought: + 'My sisters loiter long.' +That sultry noon had waned away, + Shadows had waxen great: +'Surely,' she thought within herself, + 'My sisters loiter late.' 160 +She rose, and peered out at the door, + With patient heart to wait, +And heard a distant nightingale + Complaining of its mate; +Then down the garden slope she walked, + Down to the garden gate, +Leaned on the rail and waited so. + +The slope was lightened by her eyes + Like summer lightning fair, +Like rising of the haloed moon 170 + Lightened her glimmering hair, +While her face lightened like the sun + Whose dawn is rosy white. +Thus crowned with maiden majesty + She peered into the night, +Looked up the hill and down the hill, + To left hand and to right, +Flashing like fire-flies to and fro. + +Waiting thus in weariness + She marked the nightingale 180 +Telling, if any one would heed, + Its old complaining tale. +Then lifted she her voice and sang, + Answering the bird: +Then lifted she her voice and sang, + Such notes were never heard +From any bird when Spring's in blow. + +The king of all that country + Coursing far, coursing near, +Curbed his amber-bitted steed, 190 + Coursed amain to hear; +All his princes in his train, + Squire, and knight, and peer, +With his crown upon his head, + His sceptre in his hand, +Down he fell at Margaret's knees + Lord king of all that land, +To her highness bending low. + +Every beast and bird and fish + Came mustering to the sound, 200 +Every man and every maid + From miles of country round: +Meggan on her herdsman's arm, + With her shepherd May, +Flocks and herds trooped at their heels + Along the hill-side way; +No foot too feeble for the ascent, + Not any head too grey; +Some were swift and none were slow. + +So Margaret sang her sisters home 210 + In their marriage mirth; +Sang free birds out of the sky, + Beasts along the earth, +Sang up fishes of the deep-- + All breathing things that move +Sang from far and sang from near + To her lovely love; +Sang together friend and foe; + +Sang a golden-bearded king + Straightway to her feet, 220 +Sang him silent where he knelt + In eager anguish sweet. +But when the clear voice died away, + When longest echoes died, +He stood up like a royal man + And claimed her for his bride. +So three maids were wooed and won + In a brief May-tide, +Long ago and long ago. + + + + +JESSIE CAMERON + + +'Jessie, Jessie Cameron, + Hear me but this once,' quoth he. +'Good luck go with you, neighbor's son, + But I'm no mate for you,' quoth she. +Day was verging toward the night + There beside the moaning sea, +Dimness overtook the light + There where the breakers be. +'O Jessie, Jessie Cameron, + I have loved you long and true.'-- 10 +'Good luck go with you, neighbor's son, + But I'm no mate for you.' + +She was a careless, fearless girl, + And made her answer plain, +Outspoken she to earl or churl, + Kindhearted in the main, +But somewhat heedless with her tongue, + And apt at causing pain; +A mirthful maiden she and young, + Most fair for bliss or bane. 20 +'Oh, long ago I told you so, + I tell you so to-day: +Go you your way, and let me go + Just my own free way.' + +The sea swept in with moan and foam, + Quickening the stretch of sand; +They stood almost in sight of home; + He strove to take her hand. +'Oh, can't you take your answer then, + And won't you understand? 30 +For me you're not the man of men, + I've other plans are planned. +You're good for Madge, or good for Cis, + Or good for Kate, may be: +But what's to me the good of this + While you're not good for me?' + +They stood together on the beach, + They two alone, +And louder waxed his urgent speech, + His patience almost gone: 40 +'Oh, say but one kind word to me, + Jessie, Jessie Cameron.'-- +'I'd be too proud to beg,' quoth she, + And pride was in her tone. +And pride was in her lifted head, + And in her angry eye +And in her foot, which might have fled, + But would not fly. + +Some say that he had gipsy blood; + That in his heart was guile: 50 +Yet he had gone through fire and flood + Only to win her smile. +Some say his grandam was a witch, + A black witch from beyond the Nile, +Who kept an image in a niche + And talked with it the while. +And by her hut far down the lane + Some say they would not pass at night, +Lest they should hear an unked strain + Or see an unked sight. 60 + +Alas, for Jessie Cameron!-- + The sea crept moaning, moaning nigher: +She should have hastened to begone,-- + The sea swept higher, breaking by her: +She should have hastened to her home + While yet the west was flushed with fire, +But now her feet are in the foam, + The sea-foam, sweeping higher. +O mother, linger at your door, + And light your lamp to make it plain, 70 +But Jessie she comes home no more, + No more again. + +They stood together on the strand, + They only, each by each; +Home, her home, was close at hand, + Utterly out of reach. +Her mother in the chimney nook + Heard a startled sea-gull screech, +But never turned her head to look + Towards the darkening beach: 80 +Neighbours here and neighbours there + Heard one scream, as if a bird +Shrilly screaming cleft the air:-- + That was all they heard. + +Jessie she comes home no more, + Comes home never; +Her lover's step sounds at his door + No more forever. +And boats may search upon the sea + And search along the river, 90 +But none know where the bodies be: + Sea-winds that shiver, +Sea-birds that breast the blast, + Sea-waves swelling, +Keep the secret first and last + Of their dwelling. + +Whether the tide so hemmed them round + With its pitiless flow, +That when they would have gone they found + No way to go; 100 +Whether she scorned him to the last + With words flung to and fro, +Or clung to him when hope was past, + None will ever know: +Whether he helped or hindered her, + Threw up his life or lost it well, +The troubled sea, for all its stir + Finds no voice to tell. + +Only watchers by the dying + Have thought they heard one pray 110 +Wordless, urgent; and replying + One seem to say him nay: +And watchers by the dead have heard + A windy swell from miles away, +With sobs and screams, but not a word + Distinct for them to say: +And watchers out at sea have caught + Glimpse of a pale gleam here or there, +Come and gone as quick as thought, + Which might be hand or hair. 120 + + + + +SPRING QUIET + + +Gone were but the Winter, + Come were but the Spring, +I would go to a covert + Where the birds sing; + +Where in the whitethorn + Singeth a thrush, +And a robin sings + In the holly-bush. + +Full of fresh scents + Are the budding boughs 10 +Arching high over + A cool green house: + +Full of sweet scents, + And whispering air +Which sayeth softly: + 'We spread no snare; + +'Here dwell in safety, + Here dwell alone, +With a clear stream + And a mossy stone. 20 + +'Here the sun shineth + Most shadily; +Here is heard an echo + Of the far sea, + Though far off it be.' + + + + +THE POOR GHOST + + +'Oh whence do you come, my dear friend, to me, +With your golden hair all fallen below your knee, +And your face as white as snowdrops on the lea, +And your voice as hollow as the hollow sea?' + +'From the other world I come back to you, +My locks are uncurled with dripping drenching dew. +You know the old, whilst I know the new: +But to-morrow you shall know this too.' + +'Oh not to-morrow into the dark, I pray; +Oh not to-morrow, too soon to go away: 10 +Here I feel warm and well-content and gay: +Give me another year, another day.' + +'Am I so changed in a day and a night +That mine own only love shrinks from me with fright, +Is fain to turn away to left or right +And cover up his eyes from the sight?' + +'Indeed I loved you, my chosen friend, +I loved you for life, but life has an end; +Through sickness I was ready to tend: +But death mars all, which we cannot mend. 20 + +'Indeed I loved you; I love you yet, +If you will stay where your bed is set, +Where I have planted a violet, +Which the wind waves, which the dew makes wet.' + +'Life is gone, then love too is gone, +It was a reed that I leant upon: +Never doubt I will leave you alone +And not wake you rattling bone with bone. + +'I go home alone to my bed, +Dug deep at the foot and deep at the head, 30 +Roofed in with a load of lead, +Warm enough for the forgotten dead. + +'But why did your tears soak through the clay, +And why did your sobs wake me where I lay? +I was away, far enough away: +Let me sleep now till the Judgment Day.' + + + + +A PORTRAIT + + +I + +She gave up beauty in her tender youth, + Gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways; + She covered up her eyes lest they should gaze +On vanity, and chose the bitter truth. +Harsh towards herself, towards others full of ruth, + Servant of servants, little known to praise, + Long prayers and fasts trenched on her nights and days: +She schooled herself to sights and sounds uncouth +That with the poor and stricken she might make + A home, until the least of all sufficed 10 +Her wants; her own self learned she to forsake, +Counting all earthly gain but hurt and loss. +So with calm will she chose and bore the cross + And hated all for love of Jesus Christ. + +II + +They knelt in silent anguish by her bed, + And could not weep; but calmly there she lay. + All pain had left her; and the sun's last ray +Shone through upon her, warming into red +The shady curtains. In her heart she said: + 'Heaven opens; I leave these and go away; 20 + The Bridegroom calls,--shall the Bride seek to stay?' +Then low upon her breast she bowed her head. +O lily flower, O gem of priceless worth, + O dove with patient voice and patient eyes, +O fruitful vine amid a land of dearth, + O maid replete with loving purities, +Thou bowedst down thy head with friends on earth + To raise it with the saints in Paradise. + + + + +DREAM-LOVE + + +Young Love lies sleeping + In May-time of the year, +Among the lilies, + Lapped in the tender light: +White lambs come grazing, + White doves come building there: +And round about him + The May-bushes are white. + +Soft moss the pillow + For oh, a softer cheek; 10 +Broad leaves cast shadow + Upon the heavy eyes: +There winds and waters + Grow lulled and scarcely speak; +There twilight lingers + The longest in the skies. + +Young Love lies dreaming; + But who shall tell the dream? +A perfect sunlight + On rustling forest tips; 20 +Or perfect moonlight + Upon a rippling stream; +Or perfect silence, + Or song of cherished lips. + +Burn odours round him + To fill the drowsy air; +Weave silent dances + Around him to and fro; +For oh, in waking + The sights are not so fair, 30 +And song and silence + Are not like these below. + +Young Love lies dreaming + Till summer days are gone,-- +Dreaming and drowsing + Away to perfect sleep: +He sees the beauty + Sun hath not looked upon, +And tastes the fountain + Unutterably deep. 40 + +Him perfect music + Doth hush unto his rest, +And through the pauses + The perfect silence calms: +Oh, poor the voices + Of earth from east to west, +And poor earth's stillness + Between her stately palms. + +Young Love lies drowsing + Away to poppied death; 50 +Cool shadows deepen + Across the sleeping face: +So fails the summer + With warm, delicious breath; +And what hath autumn + To give us in its place? + +Draw close the curtains + Of branched evergreen; +Change cannot touch them + With fading fingers sere: 60 +Here the first violets + Perhaps will bud unseen, +And a dove, may be, + Return to nestle here. + + + + +TWICE + + +I took my heart in my hand + (O my love, O my love), +I said: Let me fall or stand, + Let me live or die, +But this once hear me speak-- + (O my love, O my love)-- +Yet a woman's words are weak; + You should speak, not I. + +You took my heart in your hand + With a friendly smile, 10 +With a critical eye you scanned, + Then set it down, +And said: It is still unripe, + Better wait awhile; +Wait while the skylarks pipe, + Till the corn grows brown. + +As you set it down it broke-- + Broke, but I did not wince; +I smiled at the speech you spoke, + At your judgement that I heard: 20 +But I have not often smiled + Since then, nor questioned since, +Nor cared for corn-flowers wild, + Nor sung with the singing bird. + +I take my heart in my hand, + O my God, O my God, +My broken heart in my hand: + Thou hast seen, judge Thou. +My hope was written on sand, + O my God, O my God: 30 +Now let thy judgement stand-- + Yea, judge me now. + +This contemned of a man, + This marred one heedless day, +This heart take Thou to scan + Both within and without: +Refine with fire its gold, + Purge thou its dross away-- +Yea, hold it in Thy hold, + Whence none can pluck it out. 40 + +I take my heart in my hand-- + I shall not die, but live-- +Before Thy face I stand; + I, for Thou callest such: +All that I have I bring, + All that I am I give, +Smile Thou and I shall sing, + But shall not question much. + + + + +SONGS IN A CORNFIELD + + +A song in a cornfield + Where corn begins to fall, +Where reapers are reaping, + Reaping one, reaping all. +Sing pretty Lettice, + Sing Rachel, sing May; +Only Marian cannot sing + While her sweetheart's away. + +Where is he gone to + And why does he stay? 10 +He came across the green sea + But for a day, +Across the deep green sea + To help with the hay. + +His hair was curly yellow + And his eyes were grey, +He laughed a merry laugh + And said a sweet say. +Where is he gone to + That he comes not home? 20 +To-day or to-morrow + He surely will come. +Let him haste to joy + Lest he lag for sorrow, +For one weeps to-day + Who'll not weep to-morrow: +To-day she must weep + For gnawing sorrow, +To-night she may sleep + And not wake to-morrow. 30 + +May sang with Rachel + In the waxing warm weather, +Lettice sang with them, + They sang all together:-- + + 'Take the wheat in your arm + Whilst day is broad above, + Take the wheat to your bosom, + But not a false love. + Out in the fields + Summer heat gloweth, 40 + Out in the fields + Summer wind bloweth, + Out in the fields + Summer friend showeth, + Out in the fields + Summer wheat groweth; + But in the winter + When summer heat is dead + And summer wind has veered + And summer friend has fled, 50 + Only summer wheat remaineth, + White cakes and bread. + Take the wheat, clasp the wheat + That's food for maid and dove; + Take the wheat to your bosom, + But not a false false love.' + +A silence of full noontide heat + Grew on them at their toil: +The farmer's dog woke up from sleep, + The green snake hid her coil. 60 +Where grass stood thickest, bird and beast + Sought shadows as they could, +The reaping men and women paused + And sat down where they stood; +They ate and drank and were refreshed, + For rest from toil is good. + +While the reapers took their ease, + Their sickles lying by, +Rachel sang a second strain, + And singing seemed to sigh:-- 70 + + 'There goes the swallow-- + Could we but follow! + Hasty swallow stay, + Point us out the way; +Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow. + + 'There went the swallow-- + Too late to follow: + Lost our note of way, + Lost our chance to-day; +Good bye swallow, sunny swallow, wise swallow. 80 + + 'After the swallow + All sweet things follow: + All things go their way, + Only we must stay, +Must not follow; good bye swallow, good swallow.' + +Then listless Marian raised her head + Among the nodding sheaves; +Her voice was sweeter than that voice; + She sang like one who grieves: +Her voice was sweeter than its wont 90 + Among the nodding sheaves; +All wondered while they heard her sing + Like one who hopes and grieves:-- + + 'Deeper than the hail can smite, + Deeper than the frost can bite, + Deep asleep through day and night, + Our delight. + + 'Now thy sleep no pang can break, + No to-morrow bid thee wake, + Not our sobs who sit and ache 100 + For thy sake. + + 'Is it dark or light below? + Oh, but is it cold like snow? + Dost thou feel the green things grow + Fast or slow? + + 'Is it warm or cold beneath, + Oh, but is it cold like death? + Cold like death, without a breath, + Cold like death?' + +If he comes to-day 110 + He will find her weeping; +If he comes to-morrow + He will find her sleeping; +If he comes the next day + He'll not find her at all, +He may tear his curling hair, + Beat his breast and call. + + + + +A YEAR'S WINDFALLS + + +On the wind of January + Down flits the snow, +Travelling from the frozen North + As cold as it can blow. +Poor robin redbreast, + Look where he comes; +Let him in to feel your fire, + And toss him of your crumbs. + +On the wind in February + Snowflakes float still, 10 +Half inclined to turn to rain, + Nipping, dripping, chill. +Then the thaws swell the streams, + And swollen rivers swell the sea:-- +If the winter ever ends + How pleasant it will be! + +In the wind of windy March + The catkins drop down, +Curly, caterpillar-like, + Curious green and brown. 20 +With concourse of nest-building birds + And leaf-buds by the way, +We begin to think of flowers + And life and nuts some day. + +With the gusts of April + Rich fruit-tree blossoms fall, +On the hedged-in orchard-green, + From the southern wall. +Apple-trees and pear-trees + Shed petals white or pink, 30 +Plum-trees and peach-trees; + While sharp showers sink and sink. + +Little brings the May breeze + Beside pure scent of flowers, +While all things wax and nothing wanes + In lengthening daylight hours. +Across the hyacinth beds + The wind lags warm and sweet, +Across the hawthorn tops, + Across the blades of wheat. 40 + +In the wind of sunny June + Thrives the red rose crop, +Every day fresh blossoms blow + While the first leaves drop; +White rose and yellow rose + And moss-rose choice to find, +And the cottage cabbage-rose + Not one whit behind. + +On the blast of scorched July + Drives the pelting hail, 50 +From thunderous lightning-clouds, that blot + Blue heaven grown lurid-pale. +Weedy waves are tossed ashore, + Sea-things strange to sight +Gasp upon the barren shore + And fade away in light. + +In the parching August wind + Corn-fields bow the head, +Sheltered in round valley depths, + On low hills outspread. 60 +Early leaves drop loitering down + Weightless on the breeze, +First fruits of the year's decay + From the withering trees. + +In brisk wind of September + The heavy-headed fruits +Shake upon their bending boughs + And drop from the shoots; +Some glow golden in the sun, + Some show green and streaked, 70 +Some set forth a purple bloom, + Some blush rosy-cheeked. + +In strong blast of October + At the equinox, +Stirred up in his hollow bed + Broad ocean rocks; +Plunge the ships on his bosom, + Leaps and plunges the foam,-- +It's oh! for mothers' sons at sea, + That they were safe at home. 80 + +In slack wind of November + The fog forms and shifts; +All the world comes out again + When the fog lifts. +Loosened from their sapless twigs + Leaves drop with every gust; +Drifting, rustling, out of sight + In the damp or dust. + +Last of all, December, + The year's sands nearly run, 90 +Speeds on the shortest day, + Curtails the sun; +With its bleak raw wind + Lays the last leaves low, +Brings back the nightly frosts, + Brings back the snow. + + + + +THE QUEEN OF HEARTS + + +How comes it, Flora, that, whenever we +Play cards together, you invariably, + However the pack parts, + Still hold the Queen of Hearts? + +I've scanned you with a scrutinizing gaze, +Resolved to fathom these your secret ways: + But, sift them as I will, + Your ways are secret still. + +I cut and shuffle; shuffle, cut, again; +But all my cutting, shuffling, proves in vain: 10 + Vain hope, vain forethought too; + The Queen still falls to you. + +I dropped her once, prepense; but, ere the deal +Was dealt, your instinct seemed her loss to feel: + 'There should be one card more,' + You said, and searched the floor. + +I cheated once; I made a private notch +In Heart-Queen's back, and kept a lynx-eyed watch; + Yet such another back + Deceived me in the pack: 20 + +The Queen of Clubs assumed by arts unknown +An imitative dint that seemed my own; + This notch, not of my doing, + Misled me to my ruin. + +It baffles me to puzzle out the clue, +Which must be skill, or craft, or luck in you: + Unless, indeed, it be + Natural affinity. + + + + +ONE DAY + + +I will tell you when they met: +In the limpid days of Spring; +Elder boughs were budding yet, +Oaken boughs looked wintry still, +But primrose and veined violet +In the mossful turf were set, +While meeting birds made haste to sing +And build with right good will. + +I will tell you when they parted: +When plenteous Autumn sheaves were brown, 10 +Then they parted heavy-hearted; +The full rejoicing sun looked down +As grand as in the days before; +Only they had lost a crown; +Only to them those days of yore +Could come back nevermore. + +When shall they meet? I cannot tell, +Indeed, when they shall meet again, +Except some day in Paradise: +For this they wait, one waits in pain. 20 +Beyond the sea of death love lies +For ever, yesterday, to-day; +Angels shall ask them, 'Is it well?' +And they shall answer, 'Yea.' + + + + +A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW + + +'Croak, croak, croak,' +Thus the Raven spoke, +Perched on his crooked tree +As hoarse as hoarse could be. +Shun him and fear him, +Lest the Bridegroom hear him; +Scout him and rout him +With his ominous eye about him. + +Yet, 'Croak, croak, croak,' +Still tolled from the oak; 10 +From that fatal black bird, +Whether heard or unheard: +'O ship upon the high seas, +Freighted with lives and spices, +Sink, O ship,' croaked the Raven: +'Let the Bride mount to heaven.' + +In a far foreign land, +Upon the wave-edged sand, +Some friends gaze wistfully +Across the glittering sea. 20 +'If we could clasp our sister,' +Three say, 'now we have missed her!' +'If we could kiss our daughter!' +Two sigh across the water. + +Oh, the ship sails fast +With silken flags at the mast, +And the home-wind blows soft; +But a Raven sits aloft, +Chuckling and choking, +Croaking, croaking, croaking:-- 30 +Let the beacon-fire blaze higher; +Bridegroom, watch; the Bride draws nigher. + +On a sloped sandy beach, +Which the spring-tide billows reach, +Stand a watchful throng +Who have hoped and waited long: +'Fie on this ship, that tarries +With the priceless freight it carries. +The time seems long and longer: +O languid wind, wax stronger;'-- 40 + +Whilst the Raven perched at ease +Still croaks and does not cease, +One monotonous note +Tolled from his iron throat: +'No father, no mother, +But I have a sable brother: +He sees where ocean flows to, +And he knows what he knows, too.' + +A day and a night +They kept watch worn and white; 50 +A night and a day +For the swift ship on its way: +For the Bride and her maidens +--Clear chimes the bridal cadence-- +For the tall ship that never +Hove in sight for ever. + +On either shore, some +Stand in grief loud or dumb +As the dreadful dread +Grows certain though unsaid. 60 +For laughter there is weeping, +And waking instead of sleeping, +And a desperate sorrow +Morrow after morrow. + +Oh, who knows the truth, +How she perished in her youth, +And like a queen went down +Pale in her royal crown: +How she went up to glory +From the sea-foam chill and hoary, 70 +From the sea-depth black and riven +To the calm that is in Heaven? + +They went down, all the crew, +The silks and spices too, +The great ones and the small, +One and all, one and all. +Was it through stress of weather, +Quicksands, rocks, or all together? +Only the Raven knows this, +And he will not disclose this.-- 80 + +After a day and year +The bridal bells chime clear; +After a year and a day +The Bridegroom is brave and gay: +Love is sound, faith is rotten; +The old Bride is forgotten:-- +Two ominous Ravens only +Remember, black and lonely. + + + + +LIGHT LOVE + + +'Oh, sad thy lot before I came, + But sadder when I go; +My presence but a flash of flame, + A transitory glow + Between two barren wastes like snow. +What wilt thou do when I am gone, + Where wilt thou rest, my dear? +For cold thy bed to rest upon, + And cold the falling year + Whose withered leaves are lost and sere.' 10 + +She hushed the baby at her breast, + She rocked it on her knee: +'And I will rest my lonely rest, + Warmed with the thought of thee, + Rest lulled to rest by memory.' +She hushed the baby with her kiss, + She hushed it with her breast: +'Is death so sadder much than this-- + Sure death that builds a nest + For those who elsewhere cannot rest?' 20 + +'Oh, sad thy note, my mateless dove, + With tender nestling cold; +But hast thou ne'er another love + Left from the days of old, + To build thy nest of silk and gold, +To warm thy paleness to a blush + When I am far away-- +To warm thy coldness to a flush, + And turn thee back to May, + And turn thy twilight back to day?' 30 + +She did not answer him again, + But leaned her face aside, +Weary with the pang of shame and pain, + And sore with wounded pride: + He knew his very soul had lied. +She strained his baby in her arms, + His baby to her heart: +'Even let it go, the love that harms: + We twain will never part; + Mine own, his own, how dear thou art.' 40 + +'Now never teaze me, tender-eyed, + Sigh-voiced,' he said in scorn: +'For nigh at hand there blooms a bride, + My bride before the morn; + Ripe-blooming she, as thou forlorn. +Ripe-blooming she, my rose, my peach; + She woos me day and night: +I watch her tremble in my reach; + She reddens, my delight, + She ripens, reddens in my sight.' 50 + +'And is she like a sunlit rose? + Am I like withered leaves? +Haste where thy spicèd garden blows: + But in bare Autumn eves + Wilt thou have store of harvest sheaves? +Thou leavest love, true love behind, + To seek a love as true; +Go, seek in haste: but wilt thou find? + Change new again for new; + Pluck up, enjoy--yea, trample too. 60 + +'Alas for her, poor faded rose, + Alas for her her, like me, +Cast down and trampled in the snows.' + 'Like thee? nay, not like thee: + She leans, but from a guarded tree. +Farewell, and dream as long ago, + Before we ever met: +Farewell; my swift-paced horse seems slow.' + She raised her eyes, not wet + But hard, to Heaven: 'Does God forget?' 70 + + + + +A DREAM + +Sonnet + + +Once in a dream (for once I dreamed of you) + We stood together in an open field; + Above our heads two swift-winged pigeons wheeled, +Sporting at ease and courting full in view. +When loftier still a broadening darkness flew, + Down-swooping, and a ravenous hawk revealed; + Too weak to fight, too fond to fly, they yield; +So farewell life and love and pleasures new. +Then as their plumes fell fluttering to the ground, + Their snow-white plumage flecked with crimson drops, + I wept, and thought I turned towards you to weep: + But you were gone; while rustling hedgerow tops +Bent in a wind which bore to me a sound + Of far-off piteous bleat of lambs and sheep. + + + + +A RING POSY + + +Jess and Jill are pretty girls, + Plump and well to do, +In a cloud of windy curls: + Yet I know who +Loves me more than curls or pearls. + +I'm not pretty, not a bit-- + Thin and sallow-pale; +When I trudge along the street + I don't need a veil: +Yet I have one fancy hit. 10 + +Jess and Jill can trill and sing + With a flute-like voice, +Dance as light as bird on wing, + Laugh for careless joys: +Yet it's I who wear the ring. + +Jess and Jill will mate some day, + Surely, surely: +Ripen on to June through May, +While the sun shines make their hay, + Slacken steps demurely: 20 +Yet even there I lead the way. + + + + +BEAUTY IS VAIN + + +While roses are so red, + While lilies are so white, +Shall a woman exalt her face + Because it gives delight? +She's not so sweet as a rose, + A lily's straighter than she, +And if she were as red or white + She'd be but one of three. + +Whether she flush in love's summer + Or in its winter grow pale, 10 +Whether she flaunt her beauty + Or hide it away in a veil, +Be she red or white, + And stand she erect or bowed, +Time will win the race he runs with her + And hide her away in a shroud. + + + + +LADY MAGGIE + + +You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear, + For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see; +And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year, + 'Twill be little lord or lady at my knee. + +Oh, but what ails you, my sailor cousin Phil, + That you shake and turn white like a cockcrow ghost? +You're as white as I turned once down by the mill, + When one told me you and ship and crew were lost: + +Philip my playfellow, when we were boy and girl + (It was the Miller's Nancy told it to me), 10 +Philip with the merry life in lip and curl, + Philip my playfellow drowned in the sea! + +I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint; + I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad, +Till I raised my wail of desolate complaint + For you, my cousin, brother, all I had. + +They said I looked so pale--some say so fair-- + My lord stopped in passing to soothe me back to life: +I know I missed a ringlet from my hair + Next morning; and now I am his wife. 20 + +Look at my gown, Philip, and look at my ring, + I'm all crimson and gold from top to toe: +All day long I sit in the sun and sing, + Where in the sun red roses blush and blow. + +And I'm the rose of roses says my lord; + And to him I'm more than the sun in the sky, +While I hold him fast with the golden cord + Of a curl, with the eyelash of an eye. + +His mother said 'fie,' and his sisters cried 'shame,' + His highborn ladies cried 'shame' from their place: 30 +They said 'fie' when they only heard my name, + But fell silent when they saw my face. + +Am I so fair, Philip? Philip, did you think + I was so fair when we played boy and girl, +Where blue forget-me-nots bloomed on the brink + Of our stream which the mill-wheel sent a whirl? + +If I was fair then sure I'm fairer now, + Sitting where a score of servants stand, +With a coronet on high days for my brow + And almost a sceptre for my hand. 40 + +You're but a sailor, Philip, weatherbeaten brown, + A stranger on land and at home on the sea, +Coasting as best you may from town to town: + Coasting along do you often think of me? + +I'm a great lady in a sheltered bower, + With hands grown white through having nought to do: +Yet sometimes I think of you hour after hour + Till I nigh wish myself a child with you. + + + + +WHAT WOULD I GIVE? + + +What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through, +Instead of this heart of stone ice-cold whatever I do; +Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all. + +What would I give for words, if only words would come; +But now in its misery my spirit has fallen dumb: +Oh, merry friends, go your own way, I have never a word to say. + +What would I give for tears, not smiles but scalding tears, +To wash the black mark clean, and to thaw the frost of years, +To wash the stain ingrain and to make me clean again. + + + + +THE BOURNE + + +Underneath the growing grass, + Underneath the living flowers, + Deeper than the sound of showers: + There we shall not count the hours +By the shadows as they pass. + +Youth and health will be but vain, + Beauty reckoned of no worth: + There a very little girth + Can hold round what once the earth +Seemed too narrow to contain. + + + + +SUMMER + + +Winter is cold-hearted + Spring is yea and nay, +Autumn is a weather-cock + Blown every way: +Summer days for me +When every leaf is on its tree; + +When Robin's not a beggar, + And Jenny Wren's a bride, +And larks hang singing, singing, singing, + Over the wheat-fields wide, 10 + And anchored lilies ride, +And the pendulum spider + Swings from side to side, + +And blue-black beetles transact business, + And gnats fly in a host, +And furry caterpillars hasten + That no time be lost, +And moths grow fat and thrive, +And ladybirds arrive. + +Before green apples blush, 20 + Before green nuts embrown, +Why, one day in the country + Is worth a month in town; + Is worth a day and a year +Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion + That days drone elsewhere. + + + + +AUTUMN + + +I dwell alone--I dwell alone, alone, + Whilst full my river flows down to the sea, +Gilded with flashing boats + That bring no friend to me: +O love-songs, gurgling from a hundred throats, + O love-pangs, let me be. + +Fair fall the freighted boats which gold and stone + And spices bear to sea: +Slim, gleaming maidens swell their mellow notes, + Love-promising, entreating-- 10 + Ah! sweet, but fleeting-- + Beneath the shivering, snow-white sails. + Hush! the wind flags and fails-- +Hush! they will lie becalmed in sight of strand-- + Sight of my strand, where I do dwell alone; +Their songs wake singing echoes in my land-- + They cannot hear me moan. + + One latest, solitary swallow flies + Across the sea, rough autumn-tempest tossed, + Poor bird, shall it be lost? 20 + Dropped down into this uncongenial sea, + With no kind eyes + To watch it while it dies, + Unguessed, uncared for, free: + Set free at last, + The short pang past, +In sleep, in death, in dreamless sleep locked fast. + +Mine avenue is all a growth of oaks, + Some rent by thunder strokes, +Some rustling leaves and acorns in the breeze; 30 + Fair fall my fertile trees, +That rear their goodly heads, and live at ease. + +A spider's web blocks all mine avenue; + He catches down and foolish painted flies + That spider wary and wise. +Each morn it hangs a rainbow strung with dew + Betwixt boughs green with sap, + So fair, few creatures guess it is a trap: + I will not mar the web, +Though sad I am to see the small lives ebb. 40 + +It shakes--my trees shake--for a wind is roused + In cavern where it housed: + Each white and quivering sail, + Of boats among the water leaves +Hollows and strains in the full-throated gale: + Each maiden sings again-- +Each languid maiden, whom the calm +Had lulled to sleep with rest and spice and balm + Miles down my river to the sea + They float and wane, 50 + Long miles away from me. + + Perhaps they say: 'She grieves, + Uplifted, like a beacon, on her tower.' + Perhaps they say: 'One hour +More, and we dance among the golden sheaves.' + Perhaps they say: 'One hour + More, and we stand, + Face to face, hand in hand; +Make haste, O slack gale, to the looked-for land!' + + My trees are not in flower, 60 + I have no bower, + And gusty creaks my tower, +And lonesome, very lonesome, is my strand. + + + + +THE GHOST'S PETITION + + +'There's a footstep coming: look out and see,' + 'The leaves are falling, the wind is calling; +No one cometh across the lea.'-- + +'There's a footstep coming; O sister, look.'-- + 'The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes; +No one cometh across the brook.'-- + +'But he promised that he would come: + To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow, +He must keep his word, and must come home. + +'For he promised that he would come: 10 + His word was given; from earth or heaven, +He must keep his word, and must come home. + +'Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; + You can slumber, who need not number +Hour after hour, in doubt and pain. + +'I shall sit here awhile, and watch; + Listening, hoping, for one hand groping +In deep shadow to find the latch.' + +After the dark, and before the light, + One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, 20 +Who had watched and wept the weary night. + +After the night, and before the day, + One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping-- +Watching, weeping for one away. + +There came a footstep climbing the stair; + Some one standing out on the landing +Shook the door like a puff of air-- + +Shook the door, and in he passed. + Did he enter? In the room centre +Stood her husband: the door shut fast. 30 + +'O Robin, but you are cold-- + Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you +Look like a stray lamb from our fold. + +'O Robin, but you are late: + Come and sit near me--sit here and cheer me.'-- +(Blue the flame burnt in the grate.) + +'Lay not down your head on my breast: + I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you +In the shelter that you love best. + +'Feel not after my clasping hand: 40 + I am but a shadow, come from the meadow +Where many lie, but no tree can stand. + +'We are trees which have shed their leaves: + Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there; +Only I grieve for my wife who grieves. + +'I could rest if you would not moan + Hour after hour; I have no power +To shut my ears where I lie alone. + +'I could rest if you would not cry; + But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping-- 50 +Watching, weeping so bitterly.'-- + +'Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard. + Oh night of sorrow!--oh black to-morrow! +Is it thus that you keep your word? + +'O you who used so to shelter me + Warm from the least wind--why, now the east wind +Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see. + +'O my husband of flesh and blood, + For whom my mother I left, and brother, +And all I had, accounting it good, 60 + +'What do you do there, underground, + In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow. +What do you do there?--what have you found?'-- + +'What I do there I must not tell: + But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye: +It is well with us--it is well. + +'Tender hand hath made our nest; + Our fear is ended, our hope is blended +With present pleasure, and we have rest.'-- + +'Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come, 70 + If your present days are so pleasant; +For my days are so wearisome. + +'Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake: + Why should I tease you, who cannot please you +Any more with the pains I take?' + + + + +MEMORY + + +I + +I nursed it in my bosom while it lived, + I hid it in my heart when it was dead; +In joy I sat alone, even so I grieved + Alone and nothing said. + +I shut the door to face the naked truth, + I stood alone--I faced the truth alone, +Stripped bare of self-regard or forms or ruth + Till first and last were shown. + +I took the perfect balances and weighed; + No shaking of my hand disturbed the poise; 10 +Weighed, found it wanting: not a word I said, + But silent made my choice. + +None know the choice I made; I make it still. + None know the choice I made and broke my heart, +Breaking mine idol: I have braced my will + Once, chosen for once my part. + +I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold, + Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live. +My heart dies inch by inch; the time grows old, + Grows old in which I grieve. 20 + +II + +I have a room whereinto no one enters + Save I myself alone: + There sits a blessed memory on a throne, +There my life centres. + +While winter comes and goes--oh tedious comer!-- + And while its nip-wind blows; + While bloom the bloodless lily and warm rose +Of lavish summer. + +If any should force entrance he might see there + One buried yet not dead, 30 + Before whose face I no more bow my head +Or bend my knee there; + +But often in my worn life's autumn weather + I watch there with clear eyes, + And think how it will be in Paradise +When we're together. + + + + +A ROYAL PRINCESS + + +I, a princess, king-descended, decked with jewels, gilded, drest, +Would rather be a peasant with her baby at her breast, +For all I shine so like the sun, and am purple like the west. + +Two and two my guards behind, two and two before, +Two and two on either hand, they guard me evermore; +Me, poor dove, that must not coo--eagle that must not soar. + +All my fountains cast up perfumes, all my gardens grow +Scented woods and foreign spices, with all flowers in blow +That are costly, out of season as the seasons go. + +All my walls are lost in mirrors, whereupon I trace 10 +Self to right hand, self to left hand, self in every place, +Self-same solitary figure, self-same seeking face. + +Then I have an ivory chair high to sit upon, +Almost like my father's chair, which is an ivory throne; +There I sit uplift and upright, there I sit alone. + +Alone by day, alone by night, alone days without end; +My father and my mother give me treasures, search and spend-- +O my father! O my mother! have you ne'er a friend? + +As I am a lofty princess, so my father is +A lofty king, accomplished in all kingly subtilties, 20 +Holding in his strong right hand world-kingdoms' balances. + +He has quarrelled with his neighbours, he has scourged his foes; +Vassal counts and princes follow where his pennon goes, +Long-descended valiant lords whom the vulture knows, + +On whose track the vulture swoops, when they ride in state +To break the strength of armies and topple down the great: +Each of these my courteous servant, none of these my mate. + +My father counting up his strength sets down with equal pen +So many head of cattle, head of horses, head of men; +These for slaughter, these for breeding, with the how and when. 30 + +Some to work on roads, canals; some to man his ships; +Some to smart in mines beneath sharp overseers' whips; +Some to trap fur-beasts in lands where utmost winter nips. + +Once it came into my heart, and whelmed me like a flood, +That these too are men and women, human flesh and blood; +Men with hearts and men with souls, though trodden down like mud. + +Our feasting was not glad that night, our music was not gay: +On my mother's graceful head I marked a thread of grey, +My father frowning at the fare seemed every dish to weigh. + +I sat beside them sole princess in my exalted place, 40 +My ladies and my gentlemen stood by me on the dais: +A mirror showed me I look old and haggard in the face; + +It showed me that my ladies all are fair to gaze upon, +Plump, plenteous-haired, to every one love's secret lore is known, +They laugh by day, they sleep by night; ah me, what is a throne? + +The singing men and women sang that night as usual, +The dancers danced in pairs and sets, but music had a fall, +A melancholy windy fall as at a funeral. + +Amid the toss of torches to my chamber back we swept; +My ladies loosed my golden chain; meantime I could have wept 50 +To think of some in galling chains whether they waked or slept. + +I took my bath of scented milk, delicately waited on, +They burned sweet things for my delight, cedar and cinnamon, +They lit my shaded silver lamp, and left me there alone. + +A day went by, a week went by. One day I heard it said: +'Men are clamouring, women, children, clamouring to be fed; +Men like famished dogs are howling in the streets for bread.' + +So two whispered by my door, not thinking I could hear, +Vulgar naked truth, ungarnished for a royal ear; +Fit for cooping in the background, not to stalk so near. 60 + +But I strained my utmost sense to catch this truth, and mark: +'There are families out grazing like cattle in the park.' +'A pair of peasants must be saved even if we build an ark.' + +A merry jest, a merry laugh, each strolled upon his way; +One was my page, a lad I reared and bore with day by day; +One was my youngest maid as sweet and white as cream in May. + +Other footsteps followed softly with a weightier tramp; +Voices said: 'Picked soldiers have been summoned from the camp +To quell these base-born ruffians who make free to howl and stamp.' + +'Howl and stamp?' one answered: 'They made free to hurl a stone 70 +At the minister's state coach, well aimed and stoutly thrown.' +'There's work then for the soldiers, for this rank crop must be mown.' + +'One I saw, a poor old fool with ashes on his head, +Whimpering because a girl had snatched his crust of bread: +Then he dropped; when some one raised him, it turned out he was dead.' + +'After us the deluge,' was retorted with a laugh: +'If bread's the staff of life, they must walk without a staff.' +'While I've a loaf they're welcome to my blessing and the chaff.' + +These passed. The king: stand up. Said my father with a smile: +'Daughter mine, your mother comes to sit with you awhile, 80 +She's sad to-day, and who but you her sadness can beguile?' + +He too left me. Shall I touch my harp now while I wait,-- +(I hear them doubling guard below before our palace gate--) +Or shall I work the last gold stitch into my veil of state; + +Or shall my woman stand and read some unimpassioned scene, +There's music of a lulling sort in words that pause between; +Or shall she merely fan me while I wait here for the queen? + +Again I caught my father's voice in sharp word of command: +'Charge!' a clash of steel: 'Charge again, the rebels stand. +Smite and spare not, hand to hand; smite and spare not, hand to hand.' + +There swelled a tumult at the gate, high voices waxing higher; 91 +A flash of red reflected light lit the cathedral spire; +I heard a cry for faggots, then I heard a yell for fire. + +'Sit and roast there with your meat, sit and bake there with your bread, +You who sat to see us starve,' one shrieking woman said: +'Sit on your throne and roast with your crown upon your head.' + +Nay, this thing will I do, while my mother tarrieth, +I will take my fine spun gold, but not to sew therewith, +I will take my gold and gems, and rainbow fan and wreath; + +With a ransom in my lap, a king's ransom in my hand, 100 +I will go down to this people, will stand face to face, will stand +Where they curse king, queen, and princess of this cursed land. + +They shall take all to buy them bread, take all I have to give; +I, if I perish, perish; they to-day shall eat and live; +I, if I perish, perish; that's the goal I half conceive: + +Once to speak before the world, rend bare my heart and show +The lesson I have learned which is death, is life, to know. +I, if I perish, perish; in the name of God I go. + + + + +SHALL I FORGET? + + +Shall I forget on this side of the grave? +I promise nothing: you must wait and see + Patient and brave. +(O my soul, watch with him and he with me.) + +Shall I forget in peace of Paradise? +I promise nothing: follow, friend, and see + Faithful and wise. +(O my soul, lead the way he walks with me.) + + + + +VANITY OF VANITIES + +Sonnet + + +Ah, woe is me for pleasure that is vain, + Ah, woe is me for glory that is past: + Pleasure that bringeth sorrow at the last, +Glory that at the last bringeth no gain! +So saith the sinking heart; and so again + It shall say till the mighty angel-blast + Is blown, making the sun and moon aghast +And showering down the stars like sudden rain. +And evermore men shall go fearfully + Bending beneath their weight of heaviness; +And ancient men shall lie down wearily, + And strong men shall rise up in weariness; +Yea, even the young shall answer sighingly + Saying one to another: How vain it is! + + + + +L. E. L. + +'Whose heart was breaking for a little love.' + + +Downstairs I laugh, I sport and jest with all; + But in my solitary room above +I turn my face in silence to the wall; + My heart is breaking for a little love. + Though winter frosts are done, + And birds pair every one, +And leaves peep out, for springtide is begun. + +I feel no spring, while spring is wellnigh blown, + I find no nest, while nests are in the grove: +Woe's me for mine own heart that dwells alone, 10 + My heart that breaketh for a little love. + While golden in the sun + Rivulets rise and run, +While lilies bud, for springtide is begun. + +All love, are loved, save only I; their hearts + Beat warm with love and joy, beat full thereof: +They cannot guess, who play the pleasant parts, + My heart is breaking for a little love. + While beehives wake and whirr, + And rabbit thins his fur, 20 +In living spring that sets the world astir. + +I deck myself with skills and jewelry, + I plume myself like any mated dove: +They praise my rustling show, and never see + My heart is breaking for a little love. + While sprouts green lavender + With rosemary and myrrh, +For in quick spring the sap is all astir. + +Perhaps some saints in glory guess the truth, + Perhaps some angels read it as they move, 30 +And cry one to another full of ruth, + 'Her heart is breaking for a little love.' + Though other things have birth, + And leap and sing for mirth, +When springtime wakes and clothes and feeds the earth. + +Yet saith a saint: 'Take patience for thy scathe;' + Yet saith an angel: 'Wait, for thou shalt prove +True best is last, true life is born of death, + O thou, heart-broken for a little love. + Then love shall fill they girth, 40 + And love make fat thy dearth, +When new spring builds new heaven and clean new earth.' + + + + +LIFE AND DEATH + + +Life is not sweet. One day it will be sweet + To shut our eyes and die: +Nor feel the wild flowers blow, nor birds dart by + With flitting butterfly, +Nor grass grow long above our heads and feet, +Nor hear the happy lark that soars sky high, +Nor sigh that spring is fleet and summer fleet, + Nor mark the waxing wheat, +Nor know who sits in our accustomed seat. + +Life is not good. One day it will be good 10 + To die, then live again; +To sleep meanwhile: so not to feel the wane +Of shrunk leaves dropping in the wood, +Nor hear the foamy lashing of the main, +Nor mark the blackened bean-fields, nor where stood + Rich ranks of golden grain +Only dead refuse stubble clothe the plain: +Asleep from risk, asleep from pain. + + + + +BIRD OR BEAST? + + +Did any bird come flying + After Adam and Eve, +When the door was shut against them + And they sat down to grieve? + +I think not Eve's peacock + Splendid to see, +And I think not Adam's eagle; + But a dove may be. + +Did any beast come pushing + Through the thorny hedge 10 +Into the thorny thistly world, + Out from Eden's edge? + +I think not a lion, + Though his strength is such; +But an innocent loving lamb + May have done as much. + +If the dove preached from her bough + and the lamb from his sod, +The lamb and dove + Were preachers sent from God. 20 + + + + +EVE + + +'While I sit at the door +Sick to gaze within +Mine eye weepeth sore +For sorrow and sin: +As a tree my sin stands +To darken all lands; +Death is the fruit it bore. + +'How have Eden bowers grown +Without Adam to bend them! +How have Eden flowers blown 10 +Squandering their sweet breath +Without me to tend them! +The Tree of Life was ours, +Tree twelvefold-fruited, +Most lofty tree that flowers, +Most deeply rooted: +I chose the tree of death. + +'Hadst thou but said me nay, +Adam, my brother, +I might have pined away; 20 +I, but none other: +God might have let thee stay +Safe in our garden, +By putting me away +Beyond all pardon. + +'I, Eve, sad mother +Of all who must live, +I, not another +Plucked bitterest fruit to give +My friend, husband, lover-- 30 +O wanton eyes, run over; +Who but I should grieve?-- +Cain hath slain his brother: +Of all who must die mother, +Miserable Eve!' + +Thus she sat weeping, +Thus Eve our mother, +Where one lay sleeping +Slain by his brother. +Greatest and least 40 +Each piteous beast +To hear her voice +Forgot his joys +And set aside his feast. + +The mouse paused in his walk +And dropped his wheaten stalk; +Grave cattle wagged their heads +In rumination; +The eagle gave a cry +From his cloud station; 50 +Larks on thyme beds +Forbore to mount or sing; +Bees drooped upon the wing; +The raven perched on high +Forgot his ration; +The conies in their rock, +A feeble nation, +Quaked sympathetical; +The mocking-bird left off to mock; +Huge camels knelt as if 60 +In deprecation; +The kind hart's tears were falling; +Chattered the wistful stork; +Dove-voices with a dying fall +Cooed desolation +Answering grief by grief. + +Only the serpent in the dust +Wriggling and crawling, +Grinned an evil grin and thrust +His tongue out with its fork. 70 + + + + +GROWN AND FLOWN + + +I loved my love from green of Spring + Until sere Autumn's fall; +But now that leaves are withering + How should one love at all? + One heart's too small +For hunger, cold, love, everything. + +I loved my love on sunny days + Until late Summer's wane; +But now that frost begins to glaze + How should one love again? 10 + Nay, love and pain +Walk wide apart in diverse ways. + +I loved my love--alas to see + That this should be, alas! +I thought that this could scarcely be, + Yet has it come to pass: + Sweet sweet love was, +Now bitter bitter grown to me. + + + + +A FARM WALK + + +The year stood at its equinox + And bluff the North was blowing, +A bleat of lambs came from the flocks, + Green hardy things were growing; +I met a maid with shining locks + Where milky kine were lowing. + +She wore a kerchief on her neck, + Her bare arm showed its dimple, +Her apron spread without a speck, + Her air was frank and simple. 10 + +She milked into a wooden pail + And sang a country ditty, +An innocent fond lovers' tale, + That was not wise nor witty, +Pathetically rustical, + Too pointless for the city. + +She kept in time without a beat + As true as church-bell ringers, +Unless she tapped time with her feet, + Or squeezed it with her fingers; 20 +Her clear unstudied notes were sweet + As many a practised singer's. + +I stood a minute out of sight, + Stood silent for a minute +To eye the pail, and creamy white + The frothing milk within it; + +To eye the comely milking maid + Herself so fresh and creamy: +'Good day to you,' at last I said; + She turned her head to see me: 30 +'Good day,' she said with lifted head; + Her eyes looked soft and dreamy, + +And all the while she milked and milked + The grave cow heavy-laden: +I've seen grand ladies plumed and silked, + But not a sweeter maiden; + +But not a sweeter fresher maid + Than this in homely cotton, +Whose pleasant face and silky braid + I have not yet forgotten. 40 + +Seven springs have passed since then, as I + Count with a sober sorrow; +Seven springs have come and passed me by, + And spring sets in to-morrow. + +I've half a mind to shake myself + Free just for once from London, +To set my work upon the shelf + And leave it done or undone; + +To run down by the early train, + Whirl down with shriek and whistle, 50 +And feel the bluff North blow again, + And mark the sprouting thistle +Set up on waste patch of the lane + Its green and tender bristle. + +And spy the scarce-blown violet banks, + Crisp primrose leaves and others, +And watch the lambs leap at their pranks + And butt their patient mothers. + +Alas, one point in all my plan + My serious thoughts demur to: 60 +Seven years have passed for maid and man, + Seven years have passed for her too; + +Perhaps my rose is overblown, + Not rosy or too rosy; +Perhaps in farmhouse of her own + Some husband keeps her cosy, +Where I should show a face unknown. + Good-bye, my wayside posy. + + + + +SOMEWHERE OR OTHER + + +Somewhere or other there must surely be + The face not seen, the voice not heard, +The heart that not yet--never yet--ah me! + Made answer to my word. + +Somewhere or other, may be near or far; + Past land and sea, clean out of sight; +Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star + That tracks her night by night. + +Somewhere or other, may be far or near; + With just a wall, a hedge, between; 10 +With just the last leaves of the dying year + Fallen on a turf grown green. + + + + +A CHILL + + + What can lambkins do + All the keen night through? +Nestle by their woolly mother + The careful ewe. + + What can nestlings do + In the nightly dew? +Sleep beneath their mother's wing + Till day breaks anew. + + If in a field or tree + There might only be 10 +Such a warm soft sleeping-place + Found for me! + + + + +CHILD'S TALK IN APRIL + + +I wish you were a pleasant wren, + And I your small accepted mate; +How we'd look down on toilsome men! + We'd rise and go to bed at eight + Or it may be not quite so late. + +Then you should see the nest I'd build, + The wondrous nest for you and me; +The outside rough perhaps, but filled + With wool and down; ah, you should see + The cosy nest that it would be. 10 + +We'd have our change of hope and fear, + Small quarrels, reconcilements sweet: +I'd perch by you to chirp and cheer, + Or hop about on active feet, + And fetch you dainty bits to eat. + +We'd be so happy by the day, + So safe and happy through the night, +We both should feel, and I should say, + It's all one season of delight, +And we'll make merry whilst we may. 20 + +Perhaps some day there'd be an egg + When spring had blossomed from the snow: +I'd stand triumphant on one leg; + Like chanticleer I'd almost crow + To let our little neighbours know. + +Next you should sit and I would sing +Through lengthening days of sunny spring; + Till, if you wearied of the task, +I'd sit; and you should spread your wing + From bough to bough; I'd sit and bask. 30 + +Fancy the breaking of the shell, + The chirp, the chickens wet and bare, +The untried proud paternal swell; + And you with housewife-matron air + Enacting choicer bills of fare. + +Fancy the embryo coats of down, + The gradual feathers soft and sleek; +Till clothed and strong from tail to crown, + With virgin warblings in their beak, + They too go forth to soar and seek. 40 + +So would it last an April through +And early summer fresh with dew: + Then should we part and live as twain, +Love-time would bring me back to you + And build our happy nest again. + + + + +GONE FOR EVER + + +O happy rose-bud blooming + Upon thy parent tree, +Nay, thou art too presuming; +For soon the earth entombing + Thy faded charms shall be, +And the chill damp consuming. + +O happy skylark springing + Up to the broad blue sky, +Too fearless in thy winging, +Too gladsome in thy singing, 10 + Thou also soon shalt lie +Where no sweet notes are ringing. + +And through life's shine and shower + We shall have joy and pain; +But in the summer bower, +And at the morning hour, + We still shall look in vain +For the same bird and flower. + + + + +UNDER THE ROSE + +'The iniquity of the fathers upon the children.' + + +Oh the rose of keenest thorn! +One hidden summer morn +Under the rose I was born. + +I do not guess his name +Who wrought my Mother's shame, +And gave me life forlorn, +But my Mother, Mother, Mother, +I know her from all other. +My Mother pale and mild, +Fair as ever was seen, 10 +She was but scarce sixteen, +Little more than a child, +When I was born +To work her scorn. +With secret bitter throes, +In a passion of secret woes, +She bore me under the rose. + +One who my Mother nursed +Took me from the first:-- +'O nurse, let me look upon 20 +This babe that costs so dear; +To-morrow she will be gone: +Other mothers may keep +Their babes awake and asleep, +But I must not keep her here.'-- +Whether I know or guess, +I know this not the less. + +So I was sent away +That none might spy the truth: +And my childhood waxed to youth 30 +And I left off childish play. +I never cared to play +With the village boys and girls; +And I think they thought me proud, +I found so little to say +And kept so from the crowd: +But I had the longest curls +And I had the largest eyes +And my teeth were small like pearls; +The girls might flout and scout me, 40 +But the boys would hang about me +In sheepish mooning wise. + +Our one-street village stood +A long mile from the town, +A mile of windy down +And bleak one-sided wood, +With not a single house. +Our town itself was small, +With just the common shops, +And throve in its small way. 50 +Our neighbouring gentry reared +The good old-fashioned crops, +And made old-fashioned boasts +Of what John Bull would do +If Frenchman Frog appeared, +And drank old-fashioned toasts, +And made old-fashioned bows +To my Lady at the Hall. + +My Lady at the Hall +Is grander than they all: 60 +Hers is the oldest name +In all the neighbourhood; +But the race must die with her +Though she's a lofty dame, +For she's unmarried still. +Poor people say she's good +And has an open hand +As any in the land, +And she's the comforter +Of many sick and sad; 70 +My nurse once said to me +That everything she had +Came of my Lady's bounty: +'Though she's greatest in the county +She's humble to the poor, +No beggar seeks her door +But finds help presently. +I pray both night and day +For her, and you must pray: +But she'll never feel distress 80 +If needy folk can bless.' + +I was a little maid +When here we came to live +From somewhere by the sea. +Men spoke a foreign tongue +There where we used to be +When I was merry and young, +Too young to feel afraid; +The fisher folk would give +A kind strange word to me, 90 +There by the foreign sea: +I don't know where it was, +But I remember still +Our cottage on a hill, +And fields of flowering grass +On that fair foreign shore. + +I liked my old home best, +But this was pleasant too: +So here we made our nest +And here I grew. 100 +And now and then my Lady +In riding past our door +Would nod to Nurse and speak, +Or stoop and pat my cheek; +And I was always ready +To hold the field-gate wide +For my Lady to go through; +My Lady in her veil +So seldom put aside, +My Lady grave and pale. 110 + +I often sat to wonder +Who might my parents be, +For I knew of something under +My simple-seeming state. +Nurse never talked to me +Of mother or of father, +But watched me early and late +With kind suspicious cares: +Or not suspicious, rather +Anxious, as if she knew 120 +Some secret I might gather +And smart for unawares. +Thus I grew. + +But Nurse waxed old and grey, +Bent and weak with years. +There came a certain day +That she lay upon her bed +Shaking her palsied head, +With words she gasped to say +Which had to stay unsaid. 130 +Then with a jerking hand +Held out so piteously +She gave a ring to me +Of gold wrought curiously, +A ring which she had worn +Since the day I was born, +She once had said to me: +I slipped it on my finger; +Her eyes were keen to linger +On my hand that slipped it on; 140 +Then she sighed one rattling sigh +And stared on with sightless eye:-- +The one who loved me was gone. + +How long I stayed alone +With the corpse I never knew, +For I fainted dead as stone: +When I came to life once more +I was down upon the floor, +With neighbours making ado +To bring me back to life. 150 +I heard the sexton's wife +Say: 'Up, my lad, and run +To tell it at the Hall; +She was my Lady's nurse, +And done can't be undone. +I'll watch by this poor lamb. +I guess my Lady's purse +Is always open to such: +I'd run up on my crutch +A cripple as I am,' 160 +(For cramps had vexed her much) +'Rather than this dear heart +Lack one to take her part.' + +For days day after day +On my weary bed I lay +Wishing the time would pass; +Oh, so wishing that I was +Likely to pass away: +For the one friend whom I knew +Was dead, I knew no other, 170 +Neither father nor mother; +And I, what should I do? + +One day the sexton's wife +Said: 'Rouse yourself, my dear: +My Lady has driven down +From the Hall into the town, +And we think she's coming here. +Cheer up, for life is life.' + +But I would not look or speak, +Would not cheer up at all. 180 +My tears were like to fall, +So I turned round to the wall +And hid my hollow cheek +Making as if I slept, +As silent as a stone, +And no one knew I wept. +What was my Lady to me, +The grand lady from the Hall? +She might come, or stay away, +I was sick at heart that day: 190 +The whole world seemed to be +Nothing, just nothing to me, +For aught that I could see. + +Yet I listened where I lay: +A bustle came below, +A clear voice said: 'I know; +I will see her first alone, +It may be less of a shock +If she's so weak to-day:'-- +A light hand turned the lock, 200 +A light step crossed the floor, +One sat beside my bed: +But never a word she said. + +For me, my shyness grew +Each moment more and more: +So I said never a word +And neither looked nor stirred; +I think she must have heard +My heart go pit-a-pat: +Thus I lay, my Lady sat, 210 +More than a mortal hour-- +(I counted one and two +By the house-clock while I lay): +I seemed to have no power +To think of a thing to say, +Or do what I ought to do, +Or rouse myself to a choice. + +At last she said: 'Margaret, +Won't you even look at me?' +A something in her voice 220 +Forced my tears to fall at last, +Forced sobs from me thick and fast; +Something not of the past, +Yet stirring memory; +A something new, and yet +Not new, too sweet to last, +Which I never can forget. + +I turned and stared at her: +Her cheek showed hollow-pale; +Her hair like mine was fair, 230 +A wonderful fall of hair +That screened her like a veil; +But her height was statelier, +Her eyes had depth more deep; +I think they must have had +Always a something sad, +Unless they were asleep. + +While I stared, my Lady took +My hand in her spare hand +Jewelled and soft and grand, 240 +And looked with a long long look +Of hunger in my face; +As if she tried to trace +Features she ought to know, +And half hoped, half feared, to find. +Whatever was in her mind +She heaved a sigh at last, +And began to talk to me. + +'Your nurse was my dear nurse, +And her nursling's dear,' said she: 250 +'I never knew that she was worse +Till her poor life was past' +(Here my Lady's tears dropped fast): +'I might have been with her, +But she had no comforter. +She might have told me much +Which now I shall never know, +Never never shall know.' +She sat by me sobbing so, +And seemed so woe-begone, 260 +That I laid one hand upon +Hers with a timid touch, +Scarce thinking what I did, +Not knowing what to say: +That moment her face was hid +In the pillow close by mine, +Her arm was flung over me, +She hugged me, sobbing so +As if her heart would break, +And kissed me where I lay. 270 + +After this she often came +To bring me fruit or wine, +Or sometimes hothouse flowers. +And at nights I lay awake +Often and often thinking +What to do for her sake. +Wet or dry it was the same: +She would come in at all hours, +Set me eating and drinking +And say I must grow strong; 280 +At last the day seemed long +And home seemed scarcely home +If she did not come. + +Well, I grew strong again: +In time of primroses, +I went to pluck them in the lane; +In time of nestling birds, +I heard them chirping round the house; +And all the herds +Were out at grass when I grew strong, 290 +And days were waxen long, +And there was work for bees +Among the May-bush boughs, +And I had shot up tall, +And life felt after all +Pleasant, and not so long +When I grew strong. + +I was going to the Hall +To be my Lady's maid: +'Her little friend,' she said to me, 300 +'Almost her child,' +She said and smiled +Sighing painfully; +Blushing, with a second flush +As if she blushed to blush. + +Friend, servant, child: just this +My standing at the Hall; +The other servants call me 'Miss,' +My Lady calls me 'Margaret,' +With her clear voice musical. 310 +She never chides when I forget +This or that; she never chides. +Except when people come to stay, +(And that's not often) at the Hall, +I sit with her all day +And ride out when she rides. +She sings to me and makes me sing; +Sometimes I read to her, +Sometimes we merely sit and talk. +She noticed once my ring 320 +And made me tell its history: +That evening in our garden walk +She said she should infer +The ring had been my father's first, +Then my mother's, given for me +To the nurse who nursed +My mother in her misery, +That so quite certainly +Some one might know me, who... +Then she was silent, and I too. 330 + +I hate when people come: +The women speak and stare +And mean to be so civil. +This one will stroke my hair, +That one will pat my cheek +And praise my Lady's kindness, +Expecting me to speak; +I like the proud ones best +Who sit as struck with blindness, +As if I wasn't there. 340 +But if any gentleman +Is staying at the Hall +(Though few come prying here), +My Lady seems to fear +Some downright dreadful evil, +And makes me keep my room +As closely as she can: +So I hate when people come, +It is so troublesome. +In spite of all her care, 350 +Sometimes to keep alive +I sometimes do contrive +To get out in the grounds +For a whiff of wholesome air, +Under the rose you know: +It's charming to break bounds, +Stolen waters are sweet, +And what's the good of feet +If for days they mustn't go? +Give me a longer tether, 360 +Or I may break from it. + +Now I have eyes and ears +And just some little wit: +'Almost my Lady's child;' +I recollect she smiled, +Sighed and blushed together; +Then her story of the ring +Sounds not improbable, +She told it me so well +It seemed the actual thing:-- 370 +Oh, keep your counsel close, +But I guess under the rose, +In long past summer weather +When the world was blossoming, +And the rose upon its thorn: +I guess not who he was +Flawed honour like a glass, +And made my life forlorn, +But my Mother, Mother, Mother, +Oh, I know her from all other. 380 + +My Lady, you might trust +Your daughter with your fame. +Trust me, I would not shame +Our honourable name, +For I have noble blood +Though I was bred in dust +And brought up in the mud. +I will not press my claim, +Just leave me where you will: +But you might trust your daughter, 390 +For blood is thicker than water +And you're my mother still. + +So my Lady holds her own +With condescending grace, +and fills her lofty place +With an untroubled face +As a queen may fill a throne. +While I could hint a tale-- +(But then I am her child)-- +Would make her quail; 400 +Would set her in the dust, +Lorn with no comforter, +Her glorious hair defiled +And ashes on her cheek: +The decent world would thrust +Its finger out at her, +Not much displeased I think +To make a nine days' stir; +The decent world would sink +Its voice to speak of her. 410 + +Now this is what I mean +To do, no more, no less: +Never to speak, or show +Bare sign of what I know. +Let the blot pass unseen; +Yea, let her never guess +I hold the tangled clue +She huddles out of view. +Friend, servant, almost child, +So be it and nothing more 420 +On this side of the grave. +Mother, in Paradise, +You'll see with clearer eyes; +Perhaps in this world even +When you are like to die +And face to face with Heaven +You'll drop for once the lie: +But you must drop the mask, not I. + +My Lady promises +Two hundred pounds with me 430 +Whenever I may wed +A man she can approve: +And since besides her bounty +I'm fairest in the county +(For so I've heard it said, +Though I don't vouch for this), +Her promised pounds may move +Some honest man to see +My virtues and my beauties; +Perhaps the rising grazier, 440 +Or temperance publican, +May claim my wifely duties. +Meanwhile I wait their leisure +And grace-bestowing pleasure, +I wait the happy man; +But if I hold my head +And pitch my expectations +Just higher than their level, +They must fall back on patience: +I may not mean to wed, 450 +Yet I'll be civil. + +Now sometimes in a dream +My heart goes out of me +To build and scheme, +Till I sob after things that seem +So pleasant in a dream: +A home such as I see +My blessed neighbours live in +With father and with mother, +All proud of one another, 460 +Named by one common name +From baby in the bud +To full-blown workman father; +It's little short of Heaven. +I'd give my gentle blood +To wash my special shame +And drown my private grudge; +I'd toil and moil much rather +The dingiest cottage drudge +Whose mother need not blush, 470 +Than live here like a lady +And see my Mother flush +And hear her voice unsteady +Sometimes, yet never dare +Ask to share her care. + +Of course the servants sneer +Behind my back at me; +Of course the village girls, +Who envy me my curls +And gowns and idleness, 480 +Take comfort in a jeer; +Of course the ladies guess +Just so much of my history +As points the emphatic stress +With which they laud my Lady; +The gentlemen who catch +A casual glimpse of me +And turn again to see, +Their valets on the watch +To speak a word with me, 490 +All know and sting me wild; +Till I am almost ready +To wish that I were dead, +No faces more to see, +No more words to be said, +My Mother safe at last +Disburdened of her child, +And the past past. + +'All equal before God'-- +Our Rector has it so, 500 +And sundry sleepers nod: +It may be so; I know +All are not equal here, +And when the sleepers wake +They make a difference. +'All equal in the grave'-- +That shows an obvious sense: +Yet something which I crave +Not death itself brings near; +Now should death half atone 510 +For all my past; or make +The name I bear my own? + +I love my dear old Nurse +Who loved me without gains; +I love my mistress even, +Friend, Mother, what you will: +But I could almost curse +My Father for his pains; +And sometimes at my prayer +Kneeling in sight of Heaven 520 +I almost curse him still: +Why did he set his snare +To catch at unaware +My Mother's foolish youth; +Load me with shame that's hers, +And her with something worse, +A lifelong lie for truth? + +I think my mind is fixed +On one point and made up: +To accept my lot unmixed; 530 +Never to drug the cup +But drink it by myself. +I'll not be wooed for pelf; +I'll not blot out my shame +With any man's good name; +But nameless as I stand, +My hand is my own hand, +And nameless as I came +I go to the dark land. + +'All equal in the grave'-- 540 +I bide my time till then: +'All equal before God'-- +To-day I feel His rod, +To-morrow He may save: + Amen. + + + + +DEVOTIONAL PIECES + + + +DESPISED AND REJECTED + + +My sun has set, I dwell +In darkness as a dead man out of sight; +And none remains, not one, that I should tell +To him mine evil plight +This bitter night. +I will make fast my door +That hollow friends may trouble me no more. + +'Friend, open to Me.'--Who is this that calls? +Nay, I am deaf as are my walls: +Cease crying, for I will not hear 10 +Thy cry of hope or fear. +Others were dear, +Others forsook me: what art thou indeed +That I should heed +Thy lamentable need? +Hungry should feed, +Or stranger lodge thee here? + +'Friend, My Feet bleed. +Open thy door to Me and comfort Me.' +I will not open, trouble me no more. 20 +Go on thy way footsore, +I will not rise and open unto thee. + +'Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see +Who stands to plead with thee. +Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou +One day entreat My Face +And howl for grace, +And I be deaf as thou art now. +Open to Me.' + +Then I cried out upon him: Cease, 30 +Leave me in peace: +Fear not that I should crave +Aught thou mayst have. +Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more, +Lest I arise and chase thee from my door. +What, shall I not be let +Alone, that thou dost vex me yet? + +But all night long that voice spake urgently: +'Open to Me.' +Still harping in mine ears: 40 +'Rise, let Me in.' +Pleading with tears: +'Open to Me that I may come to thee.' +While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold: +'My Feet bleed, see My Face, +See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace, +My Heart doth bleed for thee, +Open to Me.' + +So till the break of day: +Then died away 50 +That voice, in silence as of sorrow; +Then footsteps echoing like a sigh +Passed me by, +Lingering footsteps slow to pass. +On the morrow +I saw upon the grass +Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door +The mark of blood for evermore. + + + + +LONG BARREN + + +Thou who didst hang upon a barren tree, +My God, for me; + Though I till now be barren, now at length + Lord, give me strength +To bring forth fruit to Thee. + +Thou who didst bear for me the crown of thorn, +Spitting and scorn; + Though I till now have put forth thorns, yet now + Strengthen me Thou +That better fruit be borne. 10 + +Thou Rose of Sharon, Cedar of broad roots, +Vine of sweet fruits, + Thou Lily of the vale with fadeless leaf, + Of thousands Chief, +Feed Thou my feeble shoots. + + + + +IF ONLY + + +If I might only love my God and die! + But now He bids me love Him and live on, + Now when the bloom of all my life is gone, +The pleasant half of life has quite gone by. +My tree of hope is lopped that spread so high, + And I forget how summer glowed and shone, + While autumn grips me with its fingers wan +And frets me with its fitful windy sigh. +When autumn passes then must winter numb, + And winter may not pass a weary while, 10 + But when it passes spring shall flower again; + And in that spring who weepeth now shall smile, + Yea, they shall wax who now are on the wane, +Yea, they shall sing for love when Christ shall come. + + + + +DOST THOU NOT CARE? + + +I love and love not: Lord, it breaks my heart + To love and not to love. +Thou veiled within Thy glory, gone apart + Into Thy shrine, which is above, +Dost Thou not love me, Lord, or care + For this mine ill?-- +_I love thee here or there, + I will accept thy broken heart, lie still._ + +Lord, it was well with me in time gone by + That cometh not again, 10 +When I was fresh and cheerful, who but I? + I fresh, I cheerful: worn with pain +Now, out of sight and out of heart; + O Lord, how long?-- +_I watch thee as thou art, + I will accept thy fainting heart, be strong._ + +'Lie still,' 'be strong,' to-day; but, Lord, to-morrow, + What of to-morrow, Lord? +Shall there be rest from toil, be truce from sorrow, + Be living green upon the sward 20 +Now but a barren grave to me, + Be joy for sorrow?-- +_Did I not die for thee? + Did I not live for thee? Leave Me to-morrow._ + + + + +WEARY IN WELL-DOING + + +I would have gone; God bade me stay: + I would have worked; God bade me rest. +He broke my will from day to day, + He read my yearnings unexpressed + And said them nay. + +Now I would stay; God bids me go: + Now I would rest; God bids me work. +He breaks my heart tossed to and fro, + My soul is wrung with doubts that lurk + And vex it so. 10 + +I go, Lord, where Thou sendest me; + Day after day I plod and moil: +But, Christ my God, when will it be + That I may let alone my toil + And rest with Thee? + + + + +MARTYRS' SONG + + +We meet in joy, though we part in sorrow; +We part to-night, but we meet to-morrow. +Be it flood or blood the path that's trod, +All the same it leads home to God: +Be it furnace-fire voluminous, +One like God's Son will walk with us. + +What are these that glow from afar, +These that lean over the golden bar, +Strong as the lion, pure as the dove, +With open arms and hearts of love? 10 +They the blessed ones gone before, +They the blessed for evermore. +Out of great tribulation they went +Home to their home of Heaven-content; +Through flood, or blood, or furnace-fire, +To the rest that fulfils desire. + +What are these that fly as a cloud, +With flashing heads and faces bowed, +In their mouths a victorious psalm, +In their hands a robe and palm? 20 +Welcoming angels these that shine, +Your own angel, and yours, and mine; +Who have hedged us, both day and night +On the left hand and the right, +Who have watched us both night and day +Because the devil keeps watch to slay. + +Light above light, and Bliss beyond bliss, +Whom words cannot utter, lo, Who is This? +As a King with many crowns He stands, +And our names are graven upon His hands; 30 +As a Priest, with God-uplifted eyes, +He offers for us His sacrifice; +As the Lamb of God for sinners slain, +That we too may live He lives again; +As our Champion behold Him stand, +Strong to save us, at God's Right Hand. + +God the Father give us grace +To walk in the light of Jesus' Face. +God the Son give us a part +In the hiding-place of Jesus' Heart: 40 +God the Spirit so hold us up +That we may drink of Jesus' cup; + +Death is short and life is long; +Satan is strong, but Christ more strong. +At His Word, Who hath led us hither. +The Red Sea must part hither and thither. +As His Word, Who goes before us too, +Jordan must cleave to let us through. + +Yet one pang searching and sore, +And then Heaven for evermore; 50 +Yet one moment awful and dark, +Then safety within the Veil and the Ark; +Yet one effort by Christ His grace, +Then Christ for ever face to face. + +God the Father we will adore, +In Jesus' Name, now and evermore: +God the Son we will love and thank +In this flood and on the further bank: +God the Holy Ghost we will praise +In Jesus' Name, through endless days: 60 +God Almighty, God Three in One, +God Almighty, God alone. + + + + +AFTER THIS THE JUDGEMENT + + +As eager homebound traveller to the goal, + Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main, +Or martyr panting for an aureole, + My fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attain +That hidden mansion of perpetual peace + Where keen desire and hope dwell free from pain: +That gate stands open of perennial ease; + I view the glory till I partly long, +Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these. + O passing Angel, speed me with a song, 10 +A melody of heaven to reach my heart + And rouse me to the race and make me strong; +Till in such music I take up my part + Swelling those Hallelujahs full of rest, +One, tenfold, hundredfold, with heavenly art, + Fulfilling north and south and east and west, +Thousand, ten thousandfold, innumerable, + All blent in one yet each one manifest; +Each one distinguished and beloved as well + As if no second voice in earth or heaven 20 +Were lifted up the Love of God to tell. + Ah, Love of God, which Thine own Self hast given +To me most poor, and made me rich in love, + Love that dost pass the tenfold seven times seven, +Draw Thou mine eyes, draw Thou my heart above, + My treasure ad my heart store Thou in Thee, +Brood over me with yearnings of a dove; + Be Husband, Brother, closest Friend to me; +Love me as very mother loves her son, + Her sucking firstborn fondled on her knee: 30 +Yea, more than mother loves her little one; + For, earthly, even a mother may forget +And feel no pity for its piteous moan; + But thou, O Love of God, remember yet, +Through the dry desert, through the waterflood + (Life, death) until the Great White Throne is set. +If now I am sick in chewing the bitter cud + Of sweet past sin, though solaced by Thy grace +And ofttimes strengthened by Thy Flesh and Blood, + How shall I then stand up before Thy face 40 +When from Thine eyes repentance shall be hid + And utmost Justice stand in Mercy's place: +When every sin I thought or spoke or did + Shall meet me at the inexorable bar, +And there be no man standing in the mid + To plead for me; while star fallen after star +With heaven and earth are like a ripened shock, + And all time's mighty works and wonders are +Consumed as in a moment; when no rock + Remains to fall on me, no tree to hide, 50 +But I stand all creation's gazing-stock + Exposed and comfortless on every side, +Placed trembling in the final balances + Whose poise this hour, this moment, must be tried?-- +Ah Love of God, if greater love than this + Hath no man, that a man die for his friend, +And if such love of love Thine Own Love is, + Plead with Thyself, with me, before the end; +Redeem me from the irrevocable past; + Pitch Thou Thy Presence round me to defend; 60 +Yea seek with piercèd feet, yea hold me fast + With piercèd hands whose wounds were made by love; +Not what I am, remember what Thou wast + When darkness hid from Thee Thy heavens above, +And sin Thy Father's Face, while thou didst drink + The bitter cup of death, didst taste thereof +For every man; while Thou wast nigh to sink + Beneath the intense intolerable rod, +Grown sick of love; not what I am, but think + Thy Life then ransomed mine, my God, my God. 70 + + + + +GOOD FRIDAY + + +Am I a stone and not a sheep + That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross, + To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss, +And yet not weep? + +Not so those women loved + Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee; + Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly; +Not so the thief was moved; + +Not so the Sun and Moon + Which hid their faces in a starless sky, 10 + A horror of great darkness at broad noon-- +I, only I. + +Yet give not o'er, + But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock; + Greater than Moses, turn and look once more +And smite a rock. + + + + +THE LOWEST PLACE + + +Give me the lowest place: not that I dare + Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died +That I might live and share + Thy glory by Thy side. + +Give me the lowest place: or if for me + That lowest place too high, make one more low +Where I may sit and see + My God and love Thee so. + + + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 1848-69 + + + + +DEATH'S CHILL BETWEEN + +(_Athenaeum_, October 14, 1848) + + +Chide not; let me breathe a little, + For I shall not mourn him long; +Though the life-cord was so brittle, + The love-cord was very strong. +I would wake a little space +Till I find a sleeping-place. + +You can go,--I shall not weep; + You can go unto your rest. +My heart-ache is all too deep, + And too sore my throbbing breast. 10 +Can sobs be, or angry tears, +Where are neither hopes nor fears? + +Though with you I am alone + And must be so everywhere, +I will make no useless moan,-- + None shall say 'She could not bear:' +While life lasts I will be strong,-- +But I shall not struggle long. + +Listen, listen! Everywhere + A low voice is calling me, 20 +And a step is on the stair, + And one comes ye do not see, +Listen, listen! Evermore +A dim hand knocks at the door. + +Hear me; he is come again,-- + My own dearest is come back. +Bring him in from the cold rain; + Bring wine, and let nothing lack. +Thou and I will rest together, +Love, until the sunny weather. 30 + +I will shelter thee from harm,-- + Hide thee from all heaviness. +Come to me, and keep thee warm + By my side in quietness. +I will lull thee to thy sleep +With sweet songs:--we will not weep. + +Who hath talked of weeping?--Yet + There is something at my heart, +Gnawing, I would fain forget, + And an aching and a smart. 40 +--Ah! my mother, 'tis in vain, +For he is _not_ come again. + + + + +HEART'S CHILL BETWEEN + +(_Athenaeum_, October 21, 1848) + + +I did not chide him, though I knew + That he was false to me. +Chide the exhaling of the dew, + The ebbing of the sea, +The fading of a rosy hue,-- + But not inconstancy. + +Why strive for love when love is o'er? + Why bind a restive heart?-- +He never knew the pain I bore + In saying: 'We must part; 10 +Let us be friends and nothing more.' + --Oh, woman's shallow art! + +But it is over, it is done,-- + I hardly heed it now; +So many weary years have run + Since then, I think not how +Things might have been,--but greet each one + With an unruffled brow. + +What time I am where others be, + My heart seems very calm-- 20 +Stone calm; but if all go from me, + There comes a vague alarm, +A shrinking in the memory + From some forgotten harm. + +And often through the long, long night, + Waking when none are near, +I feel my heart beat fast with fright, + Yet know not what I fear. +Oh how I long to see the light, + And the sweet birds to hear! 30 + +To have the sun upon my face, + To look up through the trees, +To walk forth in the open space + And listen to the breeze,-- +And not to dream the burial-place + Is clogging my weak knees. + +Sometimes I can nor weep nor pray, + But am half stupefied: +And then all those who see me say + Mine eyes are opened wide 40 +And that my wits seem gone away-- + Ah, would that I had died! + +Would I could die and be at peace, + Or living could forget! +My grief nor grows nor doth decrease, + But ever is:--and yet +Methinks, now, that all this shall cease + Before the sun shall set. + + + + +REPINING + +(_Art and Poetry_ [_The Germ_, No. 3], March 1850) + + +She sat alway thro' the long day +Spinning the weary thread away; +And ever said in undertone: +'Come, that I be no more alone.' + +From early dawn to set of sun +Working, her task was still undone; +And the long thread seemed to increase +Even while she spun and did not cease. +She heard the gentle turtle-dove +Tell to its mate a tale of love; 10 +She saw the glancing swallows fly, +Ever a social company; +She knew each bird upon its nest +Had cheering songs to bring it rest; +None lived alone save only she;-- +The wheel went round more wearily; +She wept and said in undertone: +'Come, that I be no more alone.' + +Day followed day, and still she sighed +For love, and was not satisfied; 20 +Until one night, when the moonlight +Turned all the trees to silver white, +She heard, what ne'er she heard before, +A steady hand undo the door. +The nightingale since set of sun +Her throbbing music had not done, +And she had listened silently; +But now the wind had changed, and she +Heard the sweet song no more, but heard +Beside her bed a whispered word: 30 +'Damsel, rise up; be not afraid; +For I am come at last,' it said. + +She trembled, tho' the voice was mild; +She trembled like a frightened child;-- +Till she looked up, and then she saw +The unknown speaker without awe. +He seemed a fair young man, his eyes +Beaming with serious charities; +His cheek was white but hardly pale; +And a dim glory like a veil 40 +Hovered about his head, and shone +Thro' the whole room till night was gone. + +So her fear fled; and then she said, +Leaning upon her quiet bed: +'Now thou art come, I prithee stay, +That I may see thee in the day, +And learn to know thy voice, and hear +It evermore calling me near.' + +He answered: 'Rise, and follow me.' +But she looked upwards wonderingly: 50 +'And whither would'st thou go, friend? stay +Until the dawning of the day.' +But he said: 'The wind ceaseth, Maid; +Of chill nor damp be thou afraid.' + +She bound her hair up from the floor, +And passed in silence from the door. + +So they went forth together, he +Helping her forward tenderly. +The hedges bowed beneath his hand; +Forth from the streams came the dry land 60 +As they passed over; evermore +The pallid moonbeams shone before; +And the wind hushed, and nothing stirred; +Not even a solitary bird, +Scared by their footsteps, fluttered by +Where aspen-trees stood steadily. + +As they went on, at length a sound +Came trembling on the air around; +The undistinguishable hum +Of life, voices that go and come 70 +Of busy men, and the child's sweet +High laugh, and noise of trampling feet. + +Then he said: 'Wilt thou go and see?' +And she made answer joyfully: +'The noise of life, of human life, +Of dear communion without strife, +Of converse held 'twixt friend and friend; +Is it not here our path shall end?' +He led her on a little way +Until they reached a hillock: 'Stay.' 80 + +It was a village in a plain. +High mountains screened it from the rain +And stormy wind; and nigh at hand +A bubbling streamlet flowed, o'er sand +Pebbly and fine, and sent life up +Green succous stalk and flower-cup. + +Gradually, day's harbinger, +A chilly wind began to stir. +It seemed a gentle powerless breeze +That scarcely rustled thro' the trees; 90 +And yet it touched the mountain's head +And the paths man might never tread. +But hearken: in the quiet weather +Do all the streams flow down together?-- + +No, 'tis a sound more terrible +Than tho' a thousand rivers fell. +The everlasting ice and snow +Were loosened then, but not to flow;-- +With a loud crash like solid thunder +The avalanche came, burying under 100 +The village; turning life and breath +And rest and joy and plans to death. + +'Oh! let us fly, for pity fly; +Let us go hence, friend, thou and I. +There must be many regions yet +Where these things make not desolate.' +He looked upon her seriously; +Then said: 'Arise and follow me.' +The path that lay before them was +Nigh covered over with long grass; 110 +And many slimy things and slow +Trailed on between the roots below. +The moon looked dimmer than before; +And shadowy cloudlets floating o'er +Its face sometimes quite hid its light, +And filled the skies with deeper night. + +At last, as they went on, the noise +Was heard of the sea's mighty voice; +And soon the ocean could be seen +In its long restlessness serene. 120 +Upon its breast a vessel rode +That drowsily appeared to nod +As the great billows rose and fell, +And swelled to sink, and sank to swell. + +Meanwhile the strong wind had come forth +From the chill regions of the North, +The mighty wind invisible. +And the low waves began to swell; +And the sky darkened overhead; +And the moon once looked forth, then fled 130 +Behind dark clouds; while here and there +The lightning shone out in the air; +And the approaching thunder rolled +With angry pealings manifold. +How many vows were made, and prayers +That in safe times were cold and scarce. +Still all availed not; and at length +The waves arose in all their strength, +And fought against the ship, and filled +The ship. Then were the clouds unsealed, 140 +And the rain hurried forth, and beat +On every side and over it. + +Some clung together, and some kept +A long stern silence, and some wept. +Many half-crazed looked on in wonder +As the strong timbers rent asunder; +Friends forgot friends, foes fled to foes;-- +And still the water rose and rose. + +'Ah woe is me! Whom I have seen +Are now as tho' they had not been. 150 +In the earth there is room for birth, +And there are graves enough in earth; +Why should the cold sea, tempest-torn, +Bury those whom it hath not borne?' + +He answered not, and they went on. +The glory of the heavens was gone; +The moon gleamed not nor any star; +Cold winds were rustling near and far, +And from the trees the dry leaves fell +With a sad sound unspeakable. 160 +The air was cold; till from the South +A gust blew hot, like sudden drouth, +Into their faces; and a light +Glowing and red, shone thro' the night. + +A mighty city full of flame +And death and sounds without a name. +Amid the black and blinding smoke, +The people, as one man, awoke. +Oh! happy they who yesterday +On the long journey went away; 170 +Whose pallid lips, smiling and chill, +While the flames scorch them smile on still; +Who murmur not; who tremble not +When the bier crackles fiery hot; +Who, dying, said in love's increase: +'Lord, let thy servant part in peace.' + +Those in the town could see and hear +A shaded river flowing near; +The broad deep bed could hardly hold +Its plenteous waters calm and cold. 180 +Was flame-wrapped all the city wall, +The city gates were flame-wrapped all. + +What was man's strength, what puissance then? +Women were mighty as strong men. +Some knelt in prayer, believing still, +Resigned unto a righteous will, +Bowing beneath the chastening rod, +Lost to the world, but found of God. +Some prayed for friend, for child, for wife; +Some prayed for faith; some prayed for life; 190 +While some, proud even in death, hope gone, +Steadfast and still, stood looking on. + +'Death--death--oh! let us fly from death; +Where'er we go it followeth; +All these are dead; and we alone +Remain to weep for what is gone. +What is this thing? thus hurriedly +To pass into eternity; +To leave the earth so full of mirth; +To lose the profit of our birth; 200 +To die and be no more; to cease, +Having numbness that is not peace. +Let us go hence; and, even if thus +Death everywhere must go with us, +Let us not see the change, but see +Those who have been or still shall be.' + +He sighed and they went on together; +Beneath their feet did the grass wither; +Across the heaven high overhead +Dark misty clouds floated and fled; 210 +And in their bosom was the thunder, +And angry lightnings flashed out under, +Forked and red and menacing; +Far off the wind was muttering; +It seemed to tell, not understood, +Strange secrets to the listening wood. + +Upon its wings it bore the scent +Of blood of a great armament: +Then saw they how on either side +Fields were down-trodden far and wide. 220 +That morning at the break of day +Two nations had gone forth to slay. + +As a man soweth so he reaps. +The field was full of bleeding heaps; +Ghastly corpses of men and horses +That met death at a thousand sources; +Cold limbs and putrifying flesh; +Long love-locks clotted to a mesh +That stifled; stiffened mouths beneath +Staring eyes that had looked on death. 230 + +But these were dead: these felt no more +The anguish of the wounds they bore. +Behold, they shall not sigh again, +Nor justly fear, nor hope in vain. +What if none wept above them?--is +The sleeper less at rest for this? +Is not the young child's slumber sweet +When no man watcheth over it? +These had deep calm; but all around +There was a deadly smothered sound, 240 +The choking cry of agony +From wounded men who could not die; +Who watched the black wing of the raven +Rise like a cloud 'twixt them and heaven, +And in the distance flying fast +Beheld the eagle come at last. + +She knelt down in her agony: +'O Lord, it is enough,' said she: +'My heart's prayer putteth me to shame; +Let me return to whence I came. 250 +Thou for who love's sake didst reprove, +Forgive me for the sake of love.' + + + + +SIT DOWN IN THE LOWEST ROOM + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1864.) + + +Like flowers sequestered from the sun + And wind of summer, day by day +I dwindled paler, whilst my hair + Showed the first tinge of grey. + +'Oh what is life, that we should live? + Or what is death, that we must die? +A bursting bubble is our life: + I also, what am I?' + +'What is your grief? now tell me, sweet, + That I may grieve,' my sister said; 10 +And stayed a white embroidering hand + And raised a golden head: + +Her tresses showed a richer mass, + Her eyes looked softer than my own, +Her figure had a statelier height, + Her voice a tenderer tone. + +'Some must be second and not first; + All cannot be the first of all: +Is not this, too, but vanity? + I stumble like to fall. 20 + +'So yesterday I read the acts + Of Hector and each clangorous king +With wrathful great Aeacides:-- + Old Homer leaves a sting.' + +The comely face looked up again, + The deft hand lingered on the thread: +'Sweet, tell me what is Homer's sting, + Old Homer's sting?' she said. + +'He stirs my sluggish pulse like wine, + He melts me like the wind of spice, 30 +Strong as strong Ajax' red right hand, + And grand like Juno's eyes. + +'I cannot melt the sons of men, + I cannot fire and tempest-toss:-- +Besides, those days were golden days, + Whilst these are days of dross.' + +She laughed a feminine low laugh, + Yet did not stay her dexterous hand: +'Now tell me of those days,' she said, + 'When time ran golden sand.' 40 + +'Then men were men of might and right, + Sheer might, at least, and weighty swords; +Then men in open blood and fire, + Bore witness to their words, + +'Crest-rearing kings with whistling spears; + But if these shivered in the shock +They wrenched up hundred-rooted trees, + Or hurled the effacing rock. + +'Then hand to hand, then foot to foot, + Stern to the death-grip grappling then, 50 +Who ever thought of gunpowder + Amongst these men of men? + +'They knew whose hand struck home the death, + They knew who broke but would not bend, +Could venerate an equal foe + And scorn a laggard friend. + +'Calm in the utmost stress of doom, + Devout toward adverse powers above, +They hated with intenser hate + And loved with fuller love. 60 + +'Then heavenly beauty could allay + As heavenly beauty stirred the strife: +By them a slave was worshipped more + Than is by us a wife.' + +She laughed again, my sister laughed, + Made answer o'er the laboured cloth: +'I would rather be one of us + Than wife, or slave, or both.' + +'Oh better then be slave or wife + Than fritter now blank life away: 70 +Then night had holiness of night, + And day was sacred day. + +'The princess laboured at her loom, + Mistress and handmaiden alike; +Beneath their needles grew the field + With warriors armed to strike. + +'Or, look again, dim Dian's face + Gleamed perfect through the attendant night; +Were such not better than those holes + Amid that waste of white? 80 + +'A shame it is, our aimless life: + I rather from my heart would feed +From silver dish in gilded stall + With wheat and wine the steed-- + +'The faithful steed that bore my lord + In safety through the hostile land, +The faithful steed that arched his neck + To fondle with my hand.' + +Her needle erred; a moment's pause, + A moment's patience, all was well. 90 +Then she: 'But just suppose the horse, + Suppose the rider fell? + +'Then captive in an alien house, + Hungering on exile's bitter bread,-- +They happy, they who won the lot + Of sacrifice,' she said. + +Speaking she faltered, while her look + Showed forth her passion like a glass: +With hand suspended, kindling eye, + Flushed cheek, how fair she was! 100 + +'Ah well, be those the days of dross; + This, if you will, the age of gold: +Yet had those days a spark of warmth, + While these are somewhat cold-- + +'Are somewhat mean and cold and slow, + Are stunted from heroic growth: +We gain but little when we prove + The worthlessness of both.' + +'But life is in our hands,' she said: + 'In our own hands for gain or loss: 110 +Shall not the Sevenfold Sacred Fire + Suffice to purge our dross? + +'Too short a century of dreams, + One day of work sufficient length: +Why should not you, why should not I + Attain heroic strength? + +'Our life is given us as a blank; + Ourselves must make it blest or curst: +Who dooms me I shall only be + The second, not the first? 120 + +'Learn from old Homer, if you will, + Such wisdom as his books have said: +In one the acts of Ajax shine, + In one of Diomed. + +'Honoured all heroes whose high deeds + Thro' life, till death, enlarge their span: +Only Achilles in his rage + And sloth is less than man.' + +'Achilles only less than man? + He less than man who, half a god, 130 +Discomfited all Greece with rest, + Cowed Ilion with a nod? + +'He offered vengeance, lifelong grief + To one dear ghost, uncounted price: +Beasts, Trojans, adverse gods, himself, + Heaped up the sacrifice. + +'Self-immolated to his friend, + Shrined in world's wonder, Homer's page, +Is this the man, the less than men, + Of this degenerate age?' 140 + +'Gross from his acorns, tusky boar + Does memorable acts like his; +So for her snared offended young + Bleeds the swart lioness.' + +But here she paused; our eyes had met, + And I was whitening with the jeer; +She rose: 'I went too far,' she said; + Spoke low: 'Forgive me, dear. + +'To me our days seem pleasant days, + Our home a haven of pure content; 150 +Forgive me if I said too much, + So much more than I meant. + +'Homer, tho' greater than his gods, + With rough-hewn virtues was sufficed +And rough-hewn men: but what are such + To us who learn of Christ?' + +The much-moved pathos of her voice, + Her almost tearful eyes, her cheek +Grown pale, confessed the strength of love + Which only made her speak: 160 + +For mild she was, of few soft words, + Most gentle, easy to be led, +Content to listen when I spoke + And reverence what I said; + +I elder sister by six years; + Not half so glad, or wise, or good: +Her words rebuked my secret self + And shamed me where I stood. + +She never guessed her words reproved + A silent envy nursed within, 170 +A selfish, souring discontent + Pride-born, the devil's sin. + +I smiled, half bitter, half in jest: + 'The wisest man of all the wise +Left for his summary of life + "Vanity of vanities." + +'Beneath the sun there's nothing new: + Men flow, men ebb, mankind flows on: +If I am wearied of my life, + Why so was Solomon. 180 + +'Vanity of vanities he preached + Of all he found, of all he sought: +Vanity of vanities, the gist + Of all the words he taught. + +'This in the wisdom of the world, + In Homer's page, in all, we find: +As the sea is not filled, so yearns + Man's universal mind. + +'This Homer felt, who gave his men + With glory but a transient state: 190 +His very Jove could not reverse + Irrevocable fate. + +'Uncertain all their lot save this-- + Who wins must lose, who lives must die: +All trodden out into the dark + Alike, all vanity.' + +She scarcely answered when I paused, + But rather to herself said: 'One +Is here,' low-voiced and loving, 'Yea, + Greater than Solomon.' 200 + +So both were silent, she and I: + She laid her work aside, and went +Into the garden-walks, like spring, + All gracious with content, + +A little graver than her wont, + Because her words had fretted me; +Not warbling quite her merriest tune + Bird-like from tree to tree. + +I chose a book to read and dream: + Yet half the while with furtive eyes 210 +Marked how she made her choice of flowers + Intuitively wise, + +And ranged them with instinctive taste + Which all my books had failed to teach; +Fresh rose herself, and daintier + Than blossom of the peach. + +By birthright higher than myself, + Tho' nestling of the self-same nest: +No fault of hers, no fault of mine, + But stubborn to digest. 220 + +I watched her, till my book unmarked + Slid noiseless to the velvet floor; +Till all the opulent summer-world + Looked poorer than before. + +Just then her busy fingers ceased, + Her fluttered colour went and came; +I knew whose step was on the walk, + Whose voice would name her name. + +* * * * * * * + +Well, twenty years have passed since then: + My sister now, a stately wife 230 +Still fair, looks back in peace and sees + The longer half of life-- + +The longer half of prosperous life, + With little grief, or fear, or fret: +She loved, and, loving long ago, + Is loved and loving yet. + +A husband honourable, brave, + Is her main wealth in all the world: +And next to him one like herself, + One daughter golden-curled; 240 + +Fair image of her own fair youth, + As beautiful and as serene, +With almost such another love + As her own love has been. + +Yet, tho' of world-wide charity, + And in her home most tender dove, +Her treasure and her heart are stored + In the home-land of love: + +She thrives, God's blessed husbandry; + She like a vine is full of fruit; 250 +Her passion-flower climbs up toward heaven + Tho' earth still binds its root. + +I sit and watch my sister's face: + How little altered since the hours +When she, a kind, light-hearted girl, + Gathered her garden flowers; + +Her song just mellowed by regret + For having teased me with her talk; +Then all-forgetful as she heard + One step upon the walk. 260 + +While I? I sat alone and watched + My lot in life, to live alone, +In mine own world of interests, + Much felt but little shown. + +Not to be first: how hard to learn + That lifelong lesson of the past; +Line graven on line and stroke on stroke; + But, thank God, learned at last. + +So now in patience I possess + My soul year after tedious year, 270 +Content to take the lowest place, + The place assigned me here. + +Yet sometimes, when I feel my strength + Most weak, and life most burdensome, +I lift mine eyes up to the hills + From whence my help shall come: + +Yea, sometimes still I lift my heart + To the Archangelic trumpet-burst, +When all deep secrets shall be shown, + And many last be first. 280 + + + + +MY FRIEND + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, Dec. 1864.) + + +Two days ago with dancing glancing hair, + With living lips and eyes: + Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies; +So pale, yet still so fair. + +We have not left her yet, not yet alone; + But soon must leave her where + She will not miss our care, +Bone of our bone. + +Weep not; O friends, we should not weep: + Our friend of friends lies full of rest; 10 + No sorrow rankles in her breast, +Fallen fast asleep. + +She sleeps below, + She wakes and laughs above: + To-day, as she walked, let us walk in love; +To-morrow follow so. + + + + +LAST NIGHT + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, May 1865.) + + +Where were you last night? I watched at the gate; +I went down early, I stayed down late. + Were you snug at home, I should like to know, +Or were you in the coppice wheedling Kate? + +She's a fine girl, with a fine clear skin; +Easy to woo, perhaps not hard to win. + Speak up like a man and tell me the truth: +I'm not one to grow downhearted and thin. + +If you love her best speak up like a man; +It's not I will stand in the light of your plan: 10 + Some girls might cry and scold you a bit, +And say they couldn't bear it; but I can. + +Love was pleasant enough, and the days went fast; +Pleasant while it lasted, but it needn't last; + Awhile on the wax and awhile on the wane, +Now dropped away into the past. + +Was it pleasant to you? To me it was; +Now clean gone as an image from glass, + As a goodly rainbow that fades away, +As dew that steams upward from the grass, 20 + +As the first spring day, or the last summer day, +As the sunset flush that leaves heaven grey, + As a flame burnt out for lack of oil, +Which no pains relight or ever may. + +Good luck to Kate and good luck to you: +I guess she'll be kind when you come to woo. + I wish her a pretty face that will last, +I wish her a husband steady and true. + +Hate you? not I, my very good friend; +All things begin and all have an end. 30 + But let broken be broken; I put no faith +In quacks who set up to patch and mend. + +Just my love and one word to Kate: +Not to let time slip if she means to mate;-- + For even such a thing has been known +As to miss the chance while we weigh and wait. + + + + +CONSIDER + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, Jan. 1866.) + + + Consider +The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:-- + We are as they; + Like them we fade away, +As doth a leaf. + + Consider +The sparrows of the air of small account: + Our God doth view +Whether they fall or mount,-- + He guards us too. 10 + + Consider +The lilies that do neither spin nor toil, + Yet are most fair:-- + What profits all this care +And all this coil? + + Consider +The birds that have no barn nor harvest-weeks; + God gives them food:-- +Much more our Father seeks + To do us good. 20 + + + + +HELEN GREY + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1866.) + + +Because one loves you, Helen Grey, + Is that a reason you should pout, + And like a March wind veer about, +And frown, and say your shrewish say? +Don't strain the cord until it snaps, + Don't split the sound heart with your wedge, + Don't cut your fingers with the edge +Of your keen wit; you may, perhaps. + +Because you're handsome, Helen Grey, + Is that a reason to be proud? 10 + Your eyes are bold, your laugh is loud, +Your steps go mincing on their way; +But so you miss that modest charm + Which is the surest charm of all: + Take heed, you yet may trip and fall, +And no man care to stretch his arm. + +Stoop from your cold height, Helen Grey, + Come down, and take a lowlier place; + Come down, to fill it now with grace; +Come down you must perforce some day: 20 +For years cannot be kept at bay, + And fading years will make you old; + Then in their turn will men seem cold, +When you yourself are nipped and grey. + + + + +BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON + +B.C. 570 + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, October 1866.) + + +Here where I dwell I waste to skin and bone; + The curse is come upon me, and I waste + In penal torment powerless to atone. +The curse is come on me, which makes no haste + And doth not tarry, crushing both the proud + Hard man and him the sinner double-faced. +Look not upon me, for my soul is bowed + Within me, as my body in this mire; + My soul crawls dumb-struck, sore-bested and cowed. +As Sodom and Gomorrah scourged by fire, 10 + As Jericho before God's trumpet-peal, + So we the elect ones perish in His ire. +Vainly we gird on sackcloth, vainly kneel + With famished faces toward Jerusalem: + His heart is shut against us not to feel, +His ears against our cry He shutteth them, + His hand He shorteneth that He will not save, + His law is loud against us to condemn: +And we, as unclean bodies in the grave + Inheriting corruption and the dark, 20 + Are outcast from His presence which we crave. +Our Mercy hath departed from His Ark, + Our Glory hath departed from His rest, + Our Shield hath left us naked as a mark +Unto all pitiless eyes made manifest. + Our very Father hath forsaken us, + Our God hath cast us from Him: we oppressed +Unto our foes are even marvellous, + A hissing and a butt for pointing hands, + Whilst God Almighty hunts and grinds us thus; 30 +For He hath scattered us in alien lands, + Our priests, our princes, our anointed king, + And bound us hand and foot with brazen bands. +Here while I sit my painful heart takes wing + Home to the home-land I must see no more, + Where milk and honey flow, where waters spring +And fail not, where I dwelt in days of yore + Under my fig-tree and my fruitful vine, + There where my parents dwelt at ease before: +Now strangers press the olives that are mine, 40 + Reap all the corners of my harvest-field, + And make their fat hearts wanton with my wine; +To them my trees, to them my garden yield + Their sweets and spices and their tender green, + O'er them in noontide heat outspread their shield. +Yet these are they whose fathers had not been + Housed with my dogs, whom hip and thigh we smote + And with their blood washed their pollutions clean, +Purging the land which spewed them from its throat; + Their daughters took we for a pleasant prey, 50 + Choice tender ones on whom the fathers doat. +Now they in turn have led our own away; + Our daughters and our sisters and our wives + Sore weeping as they weep who curse the day, +To live, remote from help, dishonoured lives, + Soothing their drunken masters with a song, + Or dancing in their golden tinkling gyves: +Accurst if they remember through the long + Estrangement of their exile, twice accursed + If they forget and join the accursèd throng. 60 +How doth my heart that is so wrung not burst + When I remember that my way was plain, + And that God's candle lit me at the first, +Whilst now I grope in darkness, grope in vain, + Desiring but to find Him Who is lost, + To find Him once again, but once again. +His wrath came on us to the uttermost, + His covenanted and most righteous wrath: + Yet this is He of Whom we made our boast, +Who lit the Fiery Pillar in our path, 70 + Who swept the Red Sea dry before our feet, + Who in His jealousy smote kings, and hath +Sworn once to David: One shall fill thy seat + Born of thy body, as the sun and moon + 'Stablished for aye in sovereignty complete. +O Lord, remember David, and that soon. + The Glory hath departed, Ichabod! + Yet now, before our sun grow dark at noon, +Before we come to nought beneath Thy rod, + Before we go down quick into the pit, 80 + Remember us for good, O God, our God:-- +Thy Name will I remember, praising it, + Though Thou forget me, though Thou hide Thy face, + And blot me from the Book which Thou hast writ; +Thy Name will I remember in my praise + And call to mind Thy faithfulness of old, +Though as a weaver Thou cut off my days, + And end me as a tale ends that is told. + + + + +SEASONS + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, Dec. 1866.) + + +Oh the cheerful Budding-time! + When thorn-hedges turn to green, +When new leaves of elm and lime + Cleave and shed their winter screen; +Tender lambs are born and 'baa,' + North wind finds no snow to bring, +Vigorous Nature laughs 'Ha, ha,' + In the miracle of spring. + +Oh the gorgeous Blossom-days! + When broad flag-flowers drink and blow, 10 +In and out in summer-blaze + Dragon-flies flash to and fro; +Ashen branches hang out keys, + Oaks put forth the rosy shoot, +Wandering herds wax sleek at ease, + Lovely blossoms end in fruit. + +Oh the shouting Harvest-weeks! + Mother earth grown fat with sheaves +Thrifty gleaner finds who seeks; + Russet-golden pomp of leaves 20 +Crowns the woods, to fall at length; + Bracing winds are felt to stir, +Ocean gathers up her strength, + Beasts renew their dwindled fur. + +Oh the starving Winter-lapse! + Ice-bound, hunger-pinched and dim; +Dormant roots recall their saps, + Empty nests show black and grim, +Short-lived sunshine gives no heat, + Undue buds are nipped by frost, 30 +Snow sets forth a winding-sheet, + And all hope of life seems lost. + + + + +MOTHER COUNTRY + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1868.) + + +Oh what is that country + And where can it be, +Not mine own country, + But dearer far to me? +Yet mine own country, + If I one day may see +Its spices and cedars, + Its gold and ivory. + +As I lie dreaming + It rises, that land: 10 +There rises before me + Its green golden strand, +With its bowing cedars + And its shining sand; +It sparkles and flashes + Like a shaken brand. + +Do angels lean nearer + While I lie and long? +I see their soft plumage + And catch their windy song, 20 +Like the rise of a high tide + Sweeping full and strong; +I mark the outskirts + Of their reverend throng. + +Oh what is a king here, + Or what is a boor? +Here all starve together, + All dwarfed and poor; +Here Death's hand knocketh + At door after door, 30 +He thins the dancers + From the festal floor. + +Oh what is a handmaid, + Or what is a queen? +All must lie down together + Where the turf is green, +The foulest face hidden, + The fairest not seen; +Gone as if never, + They had breathed or been. 40 + +Gone from sweet sunshine + Underneath the sod, +Turned from warm flesh and blood + To senseless clod, +Gone as if never + They had toiled or trod, +Gone out of sight of all + Except our God. + +Shut into silence + From the accustomed song, 50 +Shut into solitude + From all earth's throng, +Run down tho' swift of foot, + Thrust down tho' strong; +Life made an end of + Seemed it short or long. + +Life made an end of, + Life but just begun, +Life finished yesterday, + Its last sand run; 60 +Life new-born with the morrow, + Fresh as the sun: +While done is done for ever; + Undone, undone. + +And if that life is life, + This is but a breath, +The passage of a dream + And the shadow of death; +But a vain shadow + If one considereth; 70 +Vanity of vanities, + As the Preacher saith. + + + + +A SMILE AND A SIGH + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, May 1868.) + + +A smile because the nights are short! + And every morning brings such pleasure +Of sweet love-making, harmless sport: + Love, that makes and finds its treasure; + Love, treasure without measure. + +A sigh because the days are long! + Long long these days that pass in sighing, +A burden saddens every song: + While time lags who should be flying, + We live who would be dying. + + + + +DEAD HOPE + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, May 1868.) + + +Hope new born one pleasant morn + Died at even; +Hope dead lives nevermore. + No, not in heaven. + +If his shroud were but a cloud + To weep itself away; +Or were he buried underground + To sprout some day! +But dead and gone is dead and gone + Vainly wept upon. 10 + +Nought we place above his face + To mark the spot, +But it shows a barren place + In our lot. +Hope has birth no more on earth + Morn or even; +Hope dead lives nevermore, + No, not in heaven. + + + + +AUTUMN VIOLETS + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, November 1868.) + + +Keep love for youth, and violets for the spring: +Of if these bloom when worn-out autumn grieves, +Let them lie hid in double shade of leaves, +Their own, and others dropped down withering; +For violets suit when home birds build and sing, +Not when the outbound bird a passage cleaves; +Not with dry stubble of mown harvest sheaves, +But when the green world buds to blossoming. +Keep violets for the spring, and love for youth, +Love that should dwell with beauty, mirth, and hope: +Or if a later sadder love be born, +Let this not look for grace beyond its scope, +But give itself, nor plead for answering truth-- +A grateful Ruth tho' gleaning scanty corn. + + + + +'THEY DESIRE A BETTER COUNTRY' + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1869.) + + +I + +I would not if I could undo my past, + Tho' for its sake my future is a blank; + My past, for which I have myself to thank, +For all its faults and follies first and last. +I would not cast anew the lot once cast, + Or launch a second ship for one that sank, + Or drug with sweets the bitterness I drank, +Or break by feasting my perpetual fast. +I would not if I could: for much more dear + Is one remembrance than a hundred joys, 10 + More than a thousand hopes in jubilee; + Dearer the music of one tearful voice + That unforgotten calls and calls to me, +'Follow me here, rise up, and follow here.' + +II + +What seekest thou far in the unknown land? + In hope I follow joy gone on before, + In hope and fear persistent more and more, +As the dry desert lengthens out its sand. +Whilst day and night I carry in my hand + The golden key to ope the golden door 20 + Of golden home; yet mine eye weepeth sore +For the long journey that must make no stand. +And who is this that veiled doth walk with thee? + Lo, this is Love that walketh at my right; + One exile holds us both, and we are bound + To selfsame home-joys in the land of light. +Weeping thou walkest with him; weepeth he?-- + Some sobbing weep, some weep and make no sound. + +III + +A dimness of a glory glimmers here + Thro' veils and distance from the space remote, 30 + A faintest far vibration of a note +Reaches to us and seems to bring us near, +Causing our face to glow with braver cheer, + Making the serried mist to stand afloat, + Subduing langour with an antidote, +And strengthening love almost to cast out fear, +Till for one moment golden city walls + Rise looming on us, golden walls of home, +Light of our eyes until the darkness falls; + Then thro' the outer darkness burdensome 40 +I hear again the tender voice that calls, + 'Follow me hither, follow, rise, and come.' + + + + +THE OFFERING OF THE NEW LAW, THE ONE OBLATION ONCE OFFERED + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, 1863.) + + +Once I thought to sit so high +In the Palace of the sky; +Now, I thank God for His Grace, +If I may fill the lowest place. + +Once I thought to scale so soon +Heights above the changing moon; +Now, I thank God for delay-- +To-day, it yet is called to-day. + +While I stumble, halt and blind, +Lo! He waiteth to be kind; 10 +Bless me soon, or bless me slow, +Except He bless, I let not go. + +Once for earth I laid my plan, +Once I leaned on strength of man, +When my hope was swept aside, +I stayed my broken heart on pride: + +Broken reed hath pierced my hand; +Fell my house I built on sand; +Roofless, wounded, maimed by sin, +Fightings without and fears within: 20 + +Yet, a tree, He feeds my root; +Yet, a branch, He prunes for fruit; +Yet, a sheep, these eves and morns, +He seeks for me among the thorns. + +With Thine Image stamped of old, +Find Thy coin more choice than gold; +Known to Thee by name, recall +To Thee Thy home-sick prodigal. + +Sacrifice and Offering +None there is that I can bring, 30 +None, save what is Thine alone: +I bring Thee, Lord, but of Thine Own-- + +Broken Body, Blood Outpoured, +These I bring, my God, my Lord; +Wine of Life, and Living Bread, +With these for me Thy Board is spread. + + + + +CONFERENCE BETWEEN CHRIST, THE SAINTS, AND THE SOUL + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, 1863.) + + +I am pale with sick desire, + For my heart is far away +From this world's fitful fire + And this world's waning day; +In a dream it overleaps + A world of tedious ills +To where the sunshine sleeps + On th' everlasting hills. + Say the Saints--There Angels ease us + Glorified and white. 10 + They say--We rest in Jesus, + Where is not day nor night. + +My Soul saith--I have sought + For a home that is not gained, +I have spent yet nothing bought, + Have laboured but not attained; +My pride strove to rise and grow, + And hath but dwindled down; +My love sought love, and lo! + Hath not attained its crown. 20 + Say the Saints--Fresh Souls increase us, + None languish nor recede. + They say--We love our Jesus, + And He loves us indeed. + +I cannot rise above, + I cannot rest beneath, +I cannot find out Love, + Nor escape from Death; +Dear hopes and joys gone by + Still mock me with a name; 30 +My best belovèd die + And I cannot die with them. + Say the Saints--No deaths decrease us, + Where our rest is glorious. + They say--We live in Jesus, + Who once dièd for us. + +Oh, my Soul, she beats her wings + And pants to fly away +Up to immortal Things + In the Heavenly day: 40 +Yet she flags and almost faints; + Can such be meant for me? +Come and see--say the Saints. + Saith Jesus--Come and see. + Say the Saints--His Pleasures please us + Before God and the Lamb. + Come and taste My Sweets--saith Jesus-- + Be with Me where I am. + + + + +COME UNTO ME + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1864.) + + +Oh, for the time gone by, when thought of Christ + Made His Yoke easy and His Burden light; + When my heart stirred within me at the sight +Of Altar spread for awful Eucharist; +When all my hopes His promises sufficed, + When my Soul watched for Him by day, by night, + When my lamp lightened and my robe was white, +And all seemed loss, except the Pearl unpriced. +Yet, since He calls me still with tender Call, + Since He remembers Whom I half forgot, + I even will run my race and bear my lot: + For Faith the walls of Jericho cast down, + And Hope to whoso runs holds forth a Crown, +And Love is Christ, and Christ is All in all. + + + + +JESUS, DO I LOVE THEE? + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1864.) + + +Jesus, do I love Thee? +Thou art far above me, +Seated out of sight +Hid in Heavenly Light +Of most highest height. +Martyred hosts implore Thee, +Seraphs fall before Thee, +Angels and Archangels, +Cherub throngs adore Thee; +Blessed She that bore Thee! 10 +All the Saints approve Thee, +All the Virgins love Thee. +I show as a blot +Blood hath cleansed not, +As a barren spot +In Thy fruitful lot. +I, fig-tree fruit-unbearing; +Thou, righteous Judge unsparing: +What canst Thou do more to me +That shall not more undo me? 20 +Thy Justice hath a sound-- +Why cumbereth it the ground? +Thy Love with stirrings stronger +Pleads--Give it one year longer. +Thou giv'st me time: but who +Save Thou shall give me dew; +Shall feed my root with Blood, +And stir my sap for good? +Oh, by Thy Gifts that shame me, +Give more lest they condemn me: 30 +Good Lord, I ask much of Thee, +But most I ask to love Thee; +Kind Lord, be mindful of me, +Love me, and make me love Thee. + + + + +I KNOW YOU NOT + +(_Lyra Messianica_, 1864.) + + +O Christ, the Vine with living Fruit, +The twelvefold-fruited Tree of Life, +The Balm in Gilead after strife, +The valley Lily and the Rose; +Stronger than Lebanon, Thou Root; +Sweeter than clustered grapes, Thou Vine; +O Best, Thou Vineyard of red wine, +Keeping thy best wine till the close. + +Pearl of great price Thyself alone, +And ruddier than the ruby Thou; 10 +Most precious lightning Jasper stone, +Head of the corner spurned before: +Fair Gate of pearl, Thyself the Door; +Clear golden Street, Thyself the Way; +By Thee we journey toward Thee now, +Through Thee shall enter Heaven one day. + +I thirst for Thee, full fount and flood; +My heart calls Thine, as deep to deep: +Dost Thou forget Thy sweat and pain, +They provocation on the Cross? 20 +Heart-pierced for me, vouchsafe to keep +The purchase of Thy lavished Blood: +The gain is Thine, Lord, if I gain; +Or if I lose, Thine own the loss. + +At midnight (saith the Parable) +A cry was made, the Bridegroom came; +Those who were ready entered in: +The rest, shut out in death and shame, +Strove all too late that Feast to win, +Their die was cast, and fixed their lot; 30 +A gulf divided Heaven from Hell; +The Bridegroom said--I know you not. + +But Who is this that shuts the door, +And saith--I know you not--to them? +I see the wounded hands and side, +The brow thorn-tortured long ago: +Yea; This Who grieved and bled and died, +This same is He Who must condemn; +He called, but they refused to know; +So now He hears their cry no more. 40 + + + + +'BEFORE THE PALING OF THE STARS' + +(_Lyra Messianica_, 1864.) + + +Before the paling of the stars, + Before the winter morn, +Before the earliest cockcrow + Jesus Christ was born: +Born in a stable, + Cradled in a manger, +In the world His hands had made + Born a stranger. + +Priest and king lay fast asleep + In Jerusalem, 10 +Young and old lay fast asleep + In crowded Bethlehem: +Saint and Angel, ox and ass, + Kept a watch together, +Before the Christmas daybreak + In the winter weather. + +Jesus on His Mother's breast + In the stable cold, +Spotless Lamb of God was He, + Shepherd of the fold: 20 +Let us kneel with Mary maid, + With Joseph bent and hoary, +With Saint and Angel, ox and ass, + To hail the King of Glory. + + + + +EASTER EVEN + +(_Lyra Messianica_, 1864.) + + +There is nothing more that they can do + For all their rage and boast; +Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew, + Herod with his host, + +Pontius Pilate in his Judgement-hall + Judging their Judge and his, +Or he who led them all and passed them all, + Arch-Judas with his kiss. + +The sepulchre made sure with ponderous Stone, + Seal that same stone, O Priest; 10 +It may be thou shalt block the holy One + From rising in the east: + +Set a watch about the sepulchre + To watch on pain of death; +They must hold fast the stone if One should stir + And shake it from beneath. + +God Almighty, He can break a seal + And roll away a Stone, +Can grind the proud in dust who would not kneel, + And crush the mighty one. 20 + +* * * * * * * + +There is nothing more that they can do + For all their passionate care, +Those who sit in dust, the blessed few, + And weep and rend their hair: + +Peter, Thomas, Mary Magdalene, + The Virgin unreproved, +Joseph, with Nicodemus, foremost men, + And John the Well-beloved, + +Bring your finest linen and your spice, + Swathe the sacred Dead, 30 +Bind with careful hands and piteous eyes + The napkin round His head; + +Lay Him in the garden-rock to rest; + Rest you the Sabbath length: +The Sun that went down crimson in the west + Shall rise renewed in strength. + +God Almighty shall give joy for pain, + Shall comfort him who grieves: +Lo! He with joy shall doubtless come again, + And with Him bring His sheaves. 40 + + + + +PARADISE: IN A DREAM + +(_Lyra Messianica_, second edition, 1865.) + + +Once in a dream I saw the flowers + That bud and bloom in Paradise; + More fair they are than waking eyes +Have seen in all this world of ours. +And faint the perfume-bearing rose, + And faint the lily on its stem, +And faint the perfect violet + Compared with them. + +I heard the songs of Paradise: + Each bird sat singing in his place; 10 + A tender song so full of grace +It soared like incense to the skies. +Each bird sat singing to his mate + Soft cooing notes among the trees: +The nightingale herself were cold + To such as these. + +I saw the fourfold River flow, + And deep it was, with golden sand; + It flowed between a mossy land +With murmured music grave and low. 20 +It hath refreshment for all thirst, + For fainting spirits strength and rest: +Earth holds not such a draught as this + From east to west. + +The Tree of Life stood budding there, + Abundant with its twelvefold fruits; + Eternal sap sustains its roots, +Its shadowing branches fill the air. +Its leaves are healing for the world, + Its fruit the hungry world can feed, 30 +Sweeter than honey to the taste + And balm indeed. + +I saw the gate called Beautiful; + And looked, but scarce could look, within; + I saw the golden streets begin, +And outskirts of the glassy pool. +Oh harps, oh crowns of plenteous stars, + Oh green palm-branches many-leaved-- +Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, + Nor heart conceived. 40 + +I hope to see these things again, + But not as once in dreams by night; + To see them with my very sight, +And touch, and handle, and attain: +To have all Heaven beneath my feet + For narrow way that once they trod; +To have my part with all the saints, + And with my God. + + + + +WITHIN THE VEIL + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1865.) + + +She holds a lily in her hand, +Where long ranks of Angels stand, +A silver lily for her wand. + +All her hair falls sweeping down; +Her hair that is a golden brown, +A crown beneath her golden crown. + +Blooms a rose-bush at her knee, +Good to smell and good to see: +It bears a rose for her, for me; + +Her rose a blossom richly grown, 10 +My rose a bud not fully blown, +But sure one day to be mine own. + + + + +PARADISE: IN A SYMBOL + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1865.) + + +Golden-winged, silver-winged, + Winged with flashing flame, +Such a flight of birds I saw, + Birds without a name: +Singing songs in their own tongue + (Song of songs) they came. + +One to another calling, + Each answering each, +One to another calling + In their proper speech: 10 +High above my head they wheeled, + Far out of reach. + +On wings of flame they went and came + With a cadenced clang, +Their silver wings tinkled, + Their golden wings rang, +The wind it whistled through their wings + Where in Heaven they sang. + +They flashed and they darted + Awhile before mine eyes, 20 +Mounting, mounting, mounting still + In haste to scale the skies-- +Birds without a nest on earth, + Birds of Paradise. + +Where the moon riseth not, + Nor sun seeks the west, +There to sing their glory + Which they sing at rest, +There to sing their love-song + When they sing their best: 30 + +Not in any garden + That mortal foot hath trod, +Not in any flowering tree + That springs from earthly sod, +But in the garden where they dwell, + The Paradise of God. + + + + +AMOR MUNDI + +(_The Shilling Magazine_, 1865.) + + +'Oh, where are you going with your love-locks flowing + On the west wind blowing along this valley track?' +'The downhill path is easy, come with me an' it please ye, + We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.' + +So they two went together in glowing August weather, + The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right; +And dear she was to doat on, her swift feet seemed to float on + The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight. + +'Oh, what is that in heaven where grey cloud-flakes are seven, + Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?' 10 +'Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,-- + An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.' + +'Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly, + Their scent comes rich and sickly?'--'A scaled and hooded worm.' +'Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?' + 'Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits th' eternal term.' + +'Turn again, O my sweetest,--turn again, false and fleetest: + This way whereof thou weetest I fear is hell's own track.' +'Nay, too steep for hill-mounting,--nay, too late for cost-counting: + This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.' 20 + + + + +WHO SHALL DELIVER ME? + +(_The Argosy_, Feb. 1866.) + + +God strengthen me to bear myself; +That heaviest weight of all to bear, +Inalienable weight of care. + +All others are outside myself, +I lock my door and bar them out +The turmoil, tedium, gad-about. + +I lock my door upon myself, +And bar them out; but who shall wall +Self from myself, most loathed of all? + +If I could once lay down myself, 10 +And start self-purged upon the race +That all must run! Death runs apace. + +If I could set aside myself, +And start with lightened heart upon +The road by all men overgone! + +God harden me against myself, +This coward with pathetic voice +Who craves for ease, and rest, and joys: + +Myself, arch-traitor to myself; +My hollowest friend, my deadliest foe, 20 +My clog whatever road I go. + +Yet One there is can curb myself, +Can roll the strangling load from me, +Break off the yoke and set me free. + + + + +IF + +(_The Argosy_, March 1866.) + + +If he would come to-day, to-day, to-day, + O, what a day to-day would be! +But now he's away, miles and miles away + From me across the sea. + +O little bird, flying, flying, flying + To your nest in the warm west, +Tell him as you pass that I am dying, + As you pass home to your nest. + +I have a sister, I have a brother, + A faithful hound, a tame white dove; 10 +But I had another, once I had another, + And I miss him, my love, my love! + +In this weary world it is so cold, so cold, + While I sit here all alone; +I would not like to wait and to grow old, + But just to be dead and gone. + +Make me fair when I lie dead on my bed, + Fair where I am lying: +Perhaps he may come and look upon me dead-- + He for whom I am dying. 20 + +Dig my grave for two, with a stone to show it, + And on the stone write my name; +If he never comes, I shall never know it, + But sleep on all the same. + + + + +TWILIGHT NIGHT + +(_The Argosy_, March 1866.) + + +I + +We met, hand to hand, + We clasped hands close and fast, +As close as oak and ivy stand; + But it is past: + Come day, come night, day comes at last. + +We loosed hand from hand, + We parted face from face; +Each went his way to his own land. + At his own pace, + Each went to fill his separate place. 10 + +If we should meet one day, + If both should not forget, +We shall clasp hands the accustomed way, + As when we met +So long ago, as I remember yet. + +II + +Where my heart is (wherever that may be) + Might I but follow! +If you fly thither over heath and lea, +O honey-seeking bee, + O careless swallow, 20 +Bid some for whom I watch keep watch for me. + +Alas! that we must dwell, my heart and I, + So far asunder. +Hours wax to days, and days and days creep by; +I watch with wistful eye, +I wait and wonder: +When will that day draw nigh--that hour draw nigh? + +Not yesterday, and not, I think, to-day; + Perhaps to-morrow. +Day after day 'to-morrow' thus I say: 30 +I watched so yesterday + In hope and sorrow, +Again to-day I watch the accustomed way. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, +and Other Poems, by Christina Rossetti + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOBLIN MARKET *** + +***** This file should be named 16950-8.txt or 16950-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/9/5/16950/ + +Produced by Andrew Sly. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + diff --git a/16950-8.zip b/16950-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3355403 --- /dev/null +++ b/16950-8.zip diff --git a/16950.txt b/16950.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..95a0289 --- /dev/null +++ b/16950.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9780 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and +Other Poems, by Christina Rossetti + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems + +Author: Christina Rossetti + +Release Date: October 26, 2005 [EBook #16950] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOBLIN MARKET *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly. + + + + + +The World's Classics + +CLXXXIV + + + +Goblin Market +The Prince's Progress +And other poems + +By + +Christina Rossetti + + +Humphrey Milford +Oxford University Press +London, Edinburgh, Glasgow +New York, Toronto, Melbourne & Bombay + + + +Christina Georgina Rossetti + +Born, 38 Charlotte Street, Portland Place, London, December 5, 1830 +Died, 30 Torrington Square, London, December 29, 1894 + +'Goblin Market and other Poems' was first published in 1862, +'The Prince's Progress and other Poems' was first published in 1866. +In 'The World's Classics' the contents of these two books, together +with other poems, were first published in one volume in 1913. + + + + + To + MY MOTHER + In all reverence and love + I inscribe this book + + + + +CONTENTS + +GOBLIN MARKET, AND OTHER POEMS, 1862 + + Goblin Market + In the Round Tower at Jhansi, June 8, 1857 + Dream Land + At Home + A Triad + Love from the North + Winter Rain + Cousin Kate + Noble Sisters + Spring + The Lambs of Grasmere, 1860 + A Birthday + Remember + After Death + An End + My Dream + Song ('Oh roses for the flush of youth') + The Hour and the Ghost + A Summer Wish + An Apple Gathering + Song ('Two doves upon the selfsame branch') + Maude Clare + Echo + My Secret + Another Spring + A Peal of Bells + Fata Morgana + 'No, Thank you, John' + May + A Pause of Thought + Twilight Calm + Wife to Husband + Three Seasons + Mirage + Shut out + Sound Sleep + Song ('She sat and sang alway') + Song ('When I am dead, my dearest') + Dead before Death + Bitter for Sweet + Sister Maude + Rest + The First Spring Day + The Convent Threshold + Up-hill + + DEVOTIONAL PIECES + 'The Love of Christ which passeth Knowledge' + 'A Bruised Reed shall He not Break' + A Better Resurrection + Advent + The Three Enemies + The One Certainty + Christian and Jew + Sweet Death + Symbols + 'Consider the Lilies of the Field' + The World + A Testimony + Sleep at Sea + From House to Home + Old and New Year Ditties: No. I + No. II + No. III + Amen + +THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS, AND OTHER POEMS, 1866 + + The Prince's Progress + Maiden-Song + Jessie Cameron + Spring Quiet + The Poor Ghost + A Portrait + Dream-Love + Twice + Songs in a Cornfield + A Year's Windfalls + The Queen of Hearts + One Day + A Bird's-Eye View + Light Love + A Dream + A Ring Posy + Beauty is Vain + Lady Maggie + What would I give? + The Bourne + Summer + Autumn + The Ghost's Petition + Memory + A Royal Princess + Shall I Forget? + Vanity of Vanities + L. E. L. + Life and Death + Bird or Beast? + Eve + Grown and Flown + A Farm Walk + Somewhere or Other + A Chill + Child's Talk in April + Gone for Ever + Under the Rose + + DEVOTIONAL PIECES + Despised and Rejected + Long Barren + If only + Dost thou not Care? + Weary in Well-doing + Martyrs' Song + After this the Judgement + Good Friday + The Lowest Place + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 1848-69 + + Death's Chill Between + Heart's Chill Between + Repining + Sit Down in the Lowest Room + My Friend + Last Night + Consider + Helen Grey + 'By the Waters of Babylon' + Seasons + Mother Country + A Smile and a Sigh + Dead Hope + Autumn Violets + 'They Desire a Better Country' + The Offering of the New Law + Conference between Christ, the Saints, and the Soul + 'Come unto Me' + 'Jesus, do I Love Thee?' + 'I know you not' + 'Before the Paling of the Stars' + Easter Even + Paradise: in a Dream + Within the Veil + Paradise: in a Symbol + Amor Mundi + Who shall deliver Me? + If + Twilight Night + + + + +GOBLIN MARKET, AND OTHER POEMS, 1862 + + + + +GOBLIN MARKET + + +Morning and evening +Maids heard the goblins cry: +'Come buy our orchard fruits, +Come buy, come buy: +Apples and quinces, +Lemons and oranges, +Plump unpecked cherries, +Melons and raspberries, +Bloom-down-cheeked peaches, +Swart-headed mulberries, 10 +Wild free-born cranberries, +Crab-apples, dewberries, +Pine-apples, blackberries, +Apricots, strawberries;-- +All ripe together +In summer weather,-- +Morns that pass by, +Fair eves that fly; +Come buy, come buy: +Our grapes fresh from the vine, 20 +Pomegranates full and fine, +Dates and sharp bullaces, +Rare pears and greengages, +Damsons and bilberries, +Taste them and try: +Currants and gooseberries, +Bright-fire-like barberries, +Figs to fill your mouth, +Citrons from the South, +Sweet to tongue and sound to eye; 30 +Come buy, come buy.' + + Evening by evening +Among the brookside rushes, +Laura bowed her head to hear, +Lizzie veiled her blushes: +Crouching close together +In the cooling weather, +With clasping arms and cautioning lips, +With tingling cheeks and finger tips. +'Lie close,' Laura said, 40 +Pricking up her golden head: +'We must not look at goblin men, +We must not buy their fruits: +Who knows upon what soil they fed +Their hungry thirsty roots?' +'Come buy,' call the goblins +Hobbling down the glen. +'Oh,' cried Lizzie, 'Laura, Laura, +You should not peep at goblin men.' +Lizzie covered up her eyes, 50 +Covered close lest they should look; +Laura reared her glossy head, +And whispered like the restless brook: +'Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie, +Down the glen tramp little men. +One hauls a basket, +One bears a plate, +One lugs a golden dish +Of many pounds weight. +How fair the vine must grow 60 +Whose grapes are so luscious; +How warm the wind must blow +Through those fruit bushes.' +'No,' said Lizzie, 'No, no, no; +Their offers should not charm us, +Their evil gifts would harm us.' +She thrust a dimpled finger +In each ear, shut eyes and ran: +Curious Laura chose to linger +Wondering at each merchant man. 70 +One had a cat's face, +One whisked a tail, +One tramped at a rat's pace, +One crawled like a snail, +One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry, +One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry. +She heard a voice like voice of doves +Cooing all together: +They sounded kind and full of loves +In the pleasant weather. 80 + + Laura stretched her gleaming neck +Like a rush-imbedded swan, +Like a lily from the beck, +Like a moonlit poplar branch, +Like a vessel at the launch +When its last restraint is gone. + + Backwards up the mossy glen +Turned and trooped the goblin men, +With their shrill repeated cry, +'Come buy, come buy.' 90 +When they reached where Laura was +They stood stock still upon the moss, +Leering at each other, +Brother with queer brother; +Signalling each other, +Brother with sly brother. +One set his basket down, +One reared his plate; +One began to weave a crown +Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown 100 +(Men sell not such in any town); +One heaved the golden weight +Of dish and fruit to offer her: +'Come buy, come buy,' was still their cry. +Laura stared but did not stir, +Longed but had no money: +The whisk-tailed merchant bade her taste +In tones as smooth as honey, +The cat-faced purr'd, +The rat-faced spoke a word 110 +Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard; +One parrot-voiced and jolly +Cried 'Pretty Goblin' still for 'Pretty Polly;'-- +One whistled like a bird. + + But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste: +'Good folk, I have no coin; +To take were to purloin: +I have no copper in my purse, +I have no silver either, +And all my gold is on the furze 120 +That shakes in windy weather +Above the rusty heather.' +'You have much gold upon your head,' +They answered all together: +'Buy from us with a golden curl.' +She clipped a precious golden lock, +She dropped a tear more rare than pearl, +Then sucked their fruit globes fair or red: +Sweeter than honey from the rock, +Stronger than man-rejoicing wine, 130 +Clearer than water flowed that juice; +She never tasted such before, +How should it cloy with length of use? +She sucked and sucked and sucked the more +Fruits which that unknown orchard bore; +She sucked until her lips were sore; +Then flung the emptied rinds away +But gathered up one kernel stone, +And knew not was it night or day +As she turned home alone. 140 + + Lizzie met her at the gate +Full of wise upbraidings: +'Dear, you should not stay so late, +Twilight is not good for maidens; +Should not loiter in the glen +In the haunts of goblin men. +Do you not remember Jeanie, +How she met them in the moonlight, +Took their gifts both choice and many, +Ate their fruits and wore their flowers 150 +Plucked from bowers +Where summer ripens at all hours? +But ever in the noonlight +She pined and pined away; +Sought them by night and day, +Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey; +Then fell with the first snow, +While to this day no grass will grow +Where she lies low: +I planted daisies there a year ago 160 +That never blow. +You should not loiter so.' +'Nay, hush,' said Laura: +'Nay, hush, my sister: +I ate and ate my fill, +Yet my mouth waters still; +To-morrow night I will +Buy more:' and kissed her: +'Have done with sorrow; +I'll bring you plums to-morrow 170 +Fresh on their mother twigs, +Cherries worth getting; +You cannot think what figs +My teeth have met in, +What melons icy-cold +Piled on a dish of gold +Too huge for me to hold, +What peaches with a velvet nap, +Pellucid grapes without one seed: +Odorous indeed must be the mead 180 +Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink +With lilies at the brink, +And sugar-sweet their sap.' + + Golden head by golden head, +Like two pigeons in one nest +Folded in each other's wings, +They lay down in their curtained bed: +Like two blossoms on one stem, +Like two flakes of new-fall'n snow, +Like two wands of ivory 190 +Tipped with gold for awful kings. +Moon and stars gazed in at them, +Wind sang to them lullaby, +Lumbering owls forbore to fly, +Not a bat flapped to and fro +Round their rest: +Cheek to cheek and breast to breast +Locked together in one nest. + + Early in the morning +When the first cock crowed his warning, 200 +Neat like bees, as sweet and busy, +Laura rose with Lizzie: +Fetched in honey, milked the cows, +Aired and set to rights the house, +Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat, +Cakes for dainty mouths to eat, +Next churned butter, whipped up cream, +Fed their poultry, sat and sewed; +Talked as modest maidens should: +Lizzie with an open heart, 210 +Laura in an absent dream, +One content, one sick in part; +One warbling for the mere bright day's delight, +One longing for the night. + + At length slow evening came: +They went with pitchers to the reedy brook; +Lizzie most placid in her look, +Laura most like a leaping flame. +They drew the gurgling water from its deep; +Lizzie plucked purple and rich golden flags, 220 +Then turning homeward said: 'The sunset flushes +Those furthest loftiest crags; +Come, Laura, not another maiden lags, +No wilful squirrel wags, +The beasts and birds are fast asleep.' +But Laura loitered still among the rushes +And said the bank was steep. + + And said the hour was early still +The dew not fall'n, the wind not chill: +Listening ever, but not catching 230 +The customary cry, +'Come buy, come buy,' +With its iterated jingle +Of sugar-baited words: +Not for all her watching +Once discerning even one goblin +Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling; +Let alone the herds +That used to tramp along the glen, +In groups or single, 240 +Of brisk fruit-merchant men. + + Till Lizzie urged, 'O Laura, come; +I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look: +You should not loiter longer at this brook: +Come with me home. +The stars rise, the moon bends her arc, +Each glowworm winks her spark, +Let us get home before the night grows dark: +For clouds may gather +Though this is summer weather, 250 +Put out the lights and drench us through; +Then if we lost our way what should we do?' + + Laura turned cold as stone +To find her sister heard that cry alone, +That goblin cry, +'Come buy our fruits, come buy.' +Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit? +Must she no more such succous pasture find, +Gone deaf and blind? +Her tree of life drooped from the root: 260 +She said not one word in her heart's sore ache; +But peering thro' the dimness, nought discerning, +Trudged home, her pitcher dripping all the way; +So crept to bed, and lay +Silent till Lizzie slept; +Then sat up in a passionate yearning, +And gnashed her teeth for baulked desire, and wept +As if her heart would break. + + Day after day, night after night, +Laura kept watch in vain 270 +In sullen silence of exceeding pain. +She never caught again the goblin cry: +'Come buy, come buy;'-- +She never spied the goblin men +Hawking their fruits along the glen: +But when the noon waxed bright +Her hair grew thin and grey; +She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn +To swift decay and burn +Her fire away. 280 + + One day remembering her kernel-stone +She set it by a wall that faced the south; +Dewed it with tears, hoped for a root, +Watched for a waxing shoot, +But there came none; +It never saw the sun, +It never felt the trickling moisture run: +While with sunk eyes and faded mouth +She dreamed of melons, as a traveller sees +False waves in desert drouth 290 +With shade of leaf-crowned trees, +And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze. + + She no more swept the house, +Tended the fowls or cows, +Fetched honey, kneaded cakes of wheat, +Brought water from the brook: +But sat down listless in the chimney-nook +And would not eat. + + Tender Lizzie could not bear +To watch her sister's cankerous care 300 +Yet not to share. +She night and morning +Caught the goblins' cry: +'Come buy our orchard fruits, +Come buy, come buy:'-- +Beside the brook, along the glen, +She heard the tramp of goblin men, +The voice and stir +Poor Laura could not hear; +Longed to buy fruit to comfort her, 310 +But feared to pay too dear. +She thought of Jeanie in her grave, +Who should have been a bride; +But who for joys brides hope to have +Fell sick and died +In her gay prime, +In earliest Winter time +With the first glazing rime, +With the first snow-fall of crisp Winter time. + + Till Laura dwindling 320 +Seemed knocking at Death's door: +Then Lizzie weighed no more +Better and worse; +But put a silver penny in her purse, +Kissed Laura, crossed the heath with clumps of furze +At twilight, halted by the brook: +And for the first time in her life +Began to listen and look. + + Laughed every goblin +When they spied her peeping: 330 +Came towards her hobbling, +Flying, running, leaping, +Puffing and blowing, +Chuckling, clapping, crowing, +Clucking and gobbling, +Mopping and mowing, +Full of airs and graces, +Pulling wry faces, +Demure grimaces, +Cat-like and rat-like, 340 +Ratel- and wombat-like, +Snail-paced in a hurry, +Parrot-voiced and whistler, +Helter skelter, hurry skurry, +Chattering like magpies, +Fluttering like pigeons, +Gliding like fishes,-- +Hugged her and kissed her: +Squeezed and caressed her: +Stretched up their dishes, 350 +Panniers, and plates: +'Look at our apples +Russet and dun, +Bob at our cherries, +Bite at our peaches, +Citrons and dates, +Grapes for the asking, +Pears red with basking +Out in the sun, +Plums on their twigs; 360 +Pluck them and suck them, +Pomegranates, figs.'-- + + 'Good folk,' said Lizzie, +Mindful of Jeanie: +'Give me much and many:'-- +Held out her apron, +Tossed them her penny. +'Nay, take a seat with us, +Honour and eat with us,' +They answered grinning: 370 +'Our feast is but beginning. +Night yet is early, +Warm and dew-pearly, +Wakeful and starry: +Such fruits as these +No man can carry; +Half their bloom would fly, +Half their dew would dry, +Half their flavour would pass by. +Sit down and feast with us, 380 +Be welcome guest with us, +Cheer you and rest with us.'-- +'Thank you,' said Lizzie: 'But one waits +At home alone for me: +So without further parleying, +If you will not sell me any +Of your fruits though much and many, +Give me back my silver penny +I tossed you for a fee.'-- +They began to scratch their pates, 390 +No longer wagging, purring, +But visibly demurring, +Grunting and snarling. +One called her proud, +Cross-grained, uncivil; +Their tones waxed loud, +Their looks were evil. +Lashing their tails +They trod and hustled her, +Elbowed and jostled her, 400 +Clawed with their nails, +Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking, +Tore her gown and soiled her stocking, +Twitched her hair out by the roots, +Stamped upon her tender feet, +Held her hands and squeezed their fruits +Against her mouth to make her eat. + + White and golden Lizzie stood, +Like a lily in a flood,-- +Like a rock of blue-veined stone 410 +Lashed by tides obstreperously,-- +Like a beacon left alone +In a hoary roaring sea, +Sending up a golden fire,-- +Like a fruit-crowned orange-tree +White with blossoms honey-sweet +Sore beset by wasp and bee,-- +Like a royal virgin town +Topped with gilded dome and spire +Close beleaguered by a fleet 420 +Mad to tug her standard down. + + One may lead a horse to water, +Twenty cannot make him drink. +Though the goblins cuffed and caught her, +Coaxed and fought her, +Bullied and besought her, +Scratched her, pinched her black as ink, +Kicked and knocked her, +Mauled and mocked her, +Lizzie uttered not a word; 430 +Would not open lip from lip +Lest they should cram a mouthful in: +But laughed in heart to feel the drip +Of juice that syrupped all her face, +And lodged in dimples of her chin, +And streaked her neck which quaked like curd. +At last the evil people, +Worn out by her resistance, +Flung back her penny, kicked their fruit +Along whichever road they took, 440 +Not leaving root or stone or shoot; +Some writhed into the ground, +Some dived into the brook +With ring and ripple, +Some scudded on the gale without a sound, +Some vanished in the distance. + + In a smart, ache, tingle, +Lizzie went her way; +Knew not was it night or day; +Sprang up the bank, tore thro' the furze, 450 +Threaded copse and dingle, +And heard her penny jingle +Bouncing in her purse,-- +Its bounce was music to her ear. +She ran and ran +As if she feared some goblin man +Dogged her with gibe or curse +Or something worse: +But not one goblin skurried after, +Nor was she pricked by fear; 460 +The kind heart made her windy-paced +That urged her home quite out of breath with haste +And inward laughter. + + She cried 'Laura,' up the garden, +'Did you miss me? +Come and kiss me. +Never mind my bruises, +Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices +Squeezed from goblin fruits for you, +Goblin pulp and goblin dew. 470 +Eat me, drink me, love me; +Laura, make much of me: +For your sake I have braved the glen +And had to do with goblin merchant men.' + + Laura started from her chair, +Flung her arms up in the air, +Clutched her hair: +'Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted +For my sake the fruit forbidden? +Must your light like mine be hidden, 480 +Your young life like mine be wasted, +Undone in mine undoing, +And ruined in my ruin, +Thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden?'-- +She clung about her sister, +Kissed and kissed and kissed her: +Tears once again +Refreshed her shrunken eyes, +Dropping like rain +After long sultry drouth; 490 +Shaking with aguish fear, and pain, +She kissed and kissed her with a hungry mouth. + + Her lips began to scorch, +That juice was wormwood to her tongue, +She loathed the feast: +Writhing as one possessed she leaped and sung, +Rent all her robe, and wrung +Her hands in lamentable haste, +And beat her breast. +Her locks streamed like the torch 500 +Borne by a racer at full speed, +Or like the mane of horses in their flight, +Or like an eagle when she stems the light +Straight toward the sun, +Or like a caged thing freed, +Or like a flying flag when armies run. + + Swift fire spread through her veins, knocked at her heart, +Met the fire smouldering there +And overbore its lesser flame; +She gorged on bitterness without a name: 510 +Ah! fool, to choose such part +Of soul-consuming care! +Sense failed in the mortal strife: +Like the watch-tower of a town +Which an earthquake shatters down, +Like a lightning-stricken mast, +Like a wind-uprooted tree +Spun about, +Like a foam-topped waterspout +Cast down headlong in the sea, 520 +She fell at last; +Pleasure past and anguish past, +Is it death or is it life? + + Life out of death. +That night long Lizzie watched by her, +Counted her pulse's flagging stir, +Felt for her breath, +Held water to her lips, and cooled her face +With tears and fanning leaves: +But when the first birds chirped about their eaves, 530 +And early reapers plodded to the place +Of golden sheaves, +And dew-wet grass +Bowed in the morning winds so brisk to pass, +And new buds with new day +Opened of cup-like lilies on the stream, +Laura awoke as from a dream, +Laughed in the innocent old way, +Hugged Lizzie but not twice or thrice; +Her gleaming locks showed not one thread of grey, 540 +Her breath was sweet as May +And light danced in her eyes. + + Days, weeks, months, years +Afterwards, when both were wives +With children of their own; +Their mother-hearts beset with fears, +Their lives bound up in tender lives; +Laura would call the little ones +And tell them of her early prime, +Those pleasant days long gone 550 +Of not-returning time: +Would talk about the haunted glen, +The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men, +Their fruits like honey to the throat +But poison in the blood; +(Men sell not such in any town:) +Would tell them how her sister stood +In deadly peril to do her good, +And win the fiery antidote: +Then joining hands to little hands 560 +Would bid them cling together, +'For there is no friend like a sister +In calm or stormy weather; +To cheer one on the tedious way, +To fetch one if one goes astray, +To lift one if one totters down, +To strengthen whilst one stands.' + + + + +IN THE ROUND TOWER AT JHANSI + +June 8, 1857 + + +A hundred, a thousand to one; even so; + Not a hope in the world remained: +The swarming howling wretches below + Gained and gained and gained. + +Skene looked at his pale young wife:-- + 'Is the time come?'--'The time is come!'-- +Young, strong, and so full of life: + The agony struck them dumb. + +Close his arm about her now, + Close her cheek to his, 10 +Close the pistol to her brow-- + God forgive them this! + +'Will it hurt much?'--'No, mine own: + I wish I could bear the pang for both.' +'I wish I could bear the pang alone: + Courage, dear, I am not loth.' + +Kiss and kiss: 'It is not pain + Thus to kiss and die. +One kiss more.'--'And yet one again.'-- + 'Good-bye.'--'Good-bye.' 20 + + + + +DREAM LAND + + +Where sunless rivers weep +Their waves into the deep, +She sleeps a charmed sleep: + Awake her not. +Led by a single star, +She came from very far +To seek where shadows are + Her pleasant lot. + +She left the rosy morn, +She left the fields of corn, 10 +For twilight cold and lorn + And water springs. +Through sleep, as through a veil, +She sees the sky look pale, +And hears the nightingale + That sadly sings. + +Rest, rest, a perfect rest +Shed over brow and breast; +Her face is toward the west, + The purple land. 20 +She cannot see the grain +Ripening on hill and plain; +She cannot feel the rain + Upon her hand. + +Rest, rest, for evermore +Upon a mossy shore; +Rest, rest at the heart's core + Till time shall cease: +Sleep that no pain shall wake; +Night that no morn shall break 30 +Till joy shall overtake + Her perfect peace. + + + + +AT HOME + + +When I was dead, my spirit turned + To seek the much-frequented house: +I passed the door, and saw my friends + Feasting beneath green orange boughs; +From hand to hand they pushed the wine, + They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; +They sang, they jested, and they laughed, + For each was loved of each. + +I listened to their honest chat: + Said one: 'To-morrow we shall be 10 +Plod plod along the featureless sands, + And coasting miles and miles of sea.' +Said one: 'Before the turn of tide + We will achieve the eyrie-seat.' +Said one: 'To-morrow shall be like + To-day, but much more sweet.' + +'To-morrow,' said they, strong with hope, + And dwelt upon the pleasant way: +'To-morrow,' cried they, one and all, + While no one spoke of yesterday. 20 +Their life stood full at blessed noon; + I, only I, had passed away: +'To-morrow and to-day,' they cried; + I was of yesterday. + +I shivered comfortless, but cast + No chill across the tablecloth; +I, all-forgotten, shivered, sad + To stay, and yet to part how loth: +I passed from the familiar room, + I who from love had passed away, 30 +Like the remembrance of a guest + That tarrieth but a day. + + + + +A TRIAD + +Sonnet + + +Three sang of love together: one with lips + Crimson, with cheeks and bosom in a glow, +Flushed to the yellow hair and finger-tips; + And one there sang who soft and smooth as snow + Bloomed like a tinted hyacinth at a show; +And one was blue with famine after love, + Who like a harpstring snapped rang harsh and low +The burden of what those were singing of. +One shamed herself in love; one temperately + Grew gross in soulless love, a sluggish wife; +One famished died for love. Thus two of three + Took death for love and won him after strife; +One droned in sweetness like a fattened bee: + All on the threshold, yet all short of life. + + + + +LOVE FROM THE NORTH + + +I had a love in soft south land, + Beloved through April far in May; +He waited on my lightest breath, + And never dared to say me nay. + +He saddened if my cheer was sad, + But gay he grew if I was gay; +We never differed on a hair, + My yes his yes, my nay his nay. + +The wedding hour was come, the aisles + Were flushed with sun and flowers that day; 10 +I pacing balanced in my thoughts: + 'It's quite too late to think of nay.'-- + +My bridegroom answered in his turn, + Myself had almost answered 'yea:' +When through the flashing nave I heard + A struggle and resounding 'nay.' + +Bridemaids and bridegroom shrank in fear, + But I stood high who stood at bay: +'And if I answer yea, fair Sir, + What man art thou to bar with nay?' 20 + +He was a strong man from the north, + Light-locked, with eyes of dangerous grey: +'Put yea by for another time + In which I will not say thee nay.' + +He took me in his strong white arms, + He bore me on his horse away +O'er crag, morass, and hairbreadth pass, + But never asked me yea or nay. + +He made me fast with book and bell, + With links of love he makes me stay; 30 +Till now I've neither heart nor power + Nor will nor wish to say him nay. + + + + +WINTER RAIN + + +Every valley drinks, + Every dell and hollow: +Where the kind rain sinks and sinks, + Green of Spring will follow. + +Yet a lapse of weeks + Buds will burst their edges, +Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks, + In the woods and hedges; + +Weave a bower of love + For birds to meet each other, 10 +Weave a canopy above + Nest and egg and mother. + +But for fattening rain + We should have no flowers, +Never a bud or leaf again + But for soaking showers; + +Never a mated bird + In the rocking tree-tops, +Never indeed a flock or herd + To graze upon the lea-crops. 20 + +Lambs so woolly white, + Sheep the sun-bright leas on, +They could have no grass to bite + But for rain in season. + +We should find no moss + In the shadiest places, +Find no waving meadow grass + Pied with broad-eyed daisies: + +But miles of barren sand, + With never a son or daughter, 30 +Not a lily on the land, + Or lily on the water. + + + + +COUSIN KATE + + +I was a cottage maiden + Hardened by sun and air, +Contented with my cottage mates, + Not mindful I was fair. +Why did a great lord find me out, + And praise my flaxen hair? +Why did a great lord find me out + To fill my heart with care? + +He lured me to his palace home-- + Woe's me for joy thereof-- 10 +To lead a shameless shameful life, + His plaything and his love. +He wore me like a silken knot, + He changed me like a glove; +So now I moan, an unclean thing, + Who might have been a dove. + +O Lady Kate, my cousin Kate, + You grew more fair than I: +He saw you at your father's gate, + Chose you, and cast me by. 20 +He watched your steps along the lane, + Your work among the rye; +He lifted you from mean estate + To sit with him on high. + +Because you were so good and pure + He bound you with his ring: +The neighbours call you good and pure, + Call me an outcast thing. +Even so I sit and howl in dust, + You sit in gold and sing: 30 +Now which of us has tenderer heart? + You had the stronger wing. + +O cousin Kate, my love was true, + Your love was writ in sand: +If he had fooled not me but you, + If you stood where I stand, +He'd not have won me with his love + Nor bought me with his land; +I would have spit into his face + And not have taken his hand. 40 + +Yet I've a gift you have not got, + And seem not like to get: +For all your clothes and wedding-ring + I've little doubt you fret. +My fair-haired son, my shame, my pride, + Cling closer, closer yet: +Your father would give lands for one + To wear his coronet. + + + + +NOBLE SISTERS + + +'Now did you mark a falcon, + Sister dear, sister dear, +Flying toward my window + In the morning cool and clear? +With jingling bells about her neck, + But what beneath her wing? +It may have been a ribbon, + Or it may have been a ring.'-- + 'I marked a falcon swooping + At the break of day; 10 + And for your love, my sister dove, + I 'frayed the thief away.'-- + +'Or did you spy a ruddy hound, + Sister fair and tall, +Went snuffing round my garden bound, + Or crouched by my bower wall? +With a silken leash about his neck; + But in his mouth may be +A chain of gold and silver links, + Or a letter writ to me.'-- 20 + 'I heard a hound, highborn sister, + Stood baying at the moon; + I rose and drove him from your wall + Lest you should wake too soon.'-- + +'Or did you meet a pretty page + Sat swinging on the gate; +Sat whistling whistling like a bird, + Or may be slept too late; +With eaglets broidered on his cap, + And eaglets on his glove? 30 +If you had turned his pockets out, + You had found some pledge of love.'-- + 'I met him at this daybreak, + Scarce the east was red: + Lest the creaking gate should anger you, + I packed him home to bed.'-- + +'Oh patience, sister. Did you see + A young man tall and strong, +Swift-footed to uphold the right + And to uproot the wrong, 40 +Come home across the desolate sea + To woo me for his wife? +And in his heart my heart is locked, + And in his life my life.'-- + 'I met a nameless man, sister, + Hard by your chamber door: + I said: Her husband loves her much. + And yet she loves him more.'-- + +'Fie, sister, fie, a wicked lie, + A lie, a wicked lie, 50 +I have none other love but him, + Nor will have till I die. +And you have turned him from our door, + And stabbed him with a lie: +I will go seek him thro' the world + In sorrow till I die.'-- + 'Go seek in sorrow, sister, + And find in sorrow too: + If thus you shame our father's name + My curse go forth with you.' 60 + + + + +SPRING + + +Frost-locked all the winter, +Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits, +What shall make their sap ascend +That they may put forth shoots? +Tips of tender green, +Leaf, or blade, or sheath; +Telling of the hidden life +That breaks forth underneath, +Life nursed in its grave by Death. + +Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly, 10 +Drips the soaking rain, +By fits looks down the waking sun: +Young grass springs on the plain; +Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees; +Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits, +Swollen with sap put forth their shoots; +Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane; +Birds sing and pair again. + +There is no time like Spring, +When life's alive in everything, 20 +Before new nestlings sing, +Before cleft swallows speed their journey back +Along the trackless track-- +God guides their wing, +He spreads their table that they nothing lack,-- +Before the daisy grows a common flower, +Before the sun has power +To scorch the world up in his noontide hour. + +There is no time like Spring, +Like Spring that passes by; 30 +There is no life like Spring-life born to die,-- +Piercing the sod, +Clothing the uncouth clod, +Hatched in the nest, +Fledged on the windy bough, +Strong on the wing: +There is no time like Spring that passes by, +Now newly born, and now +Hastening to die. + + + + +THE LAMBS OF GRASMERE, 1860 + + +The upland flocks grew starved and thinned: + Their shepherds scarce could feed the lambs +Whose milkless mothers butted them, + Or who were orphaned of their dams. +The lambs athirst for mother's milk + Filled all the place with piteous sounds: +Their mothers' bones made white for miles + The pastureless wet pasture grounds. + +Day after day, night after night, + From lamb to lamb the shepherds went, 10 +With teapots for the bleating mouths + Instead of nature's nourishment. +The little shivering gaping things + Soon knew the step that brought them aid, +And fondled the protecting hand, + And rubbed it with a woolly head. + +Then, as the days waxed on to weeks, + It was a pretty sight to see +These lambs with frisky heads and tails + Skipping and leaping on the lea, 20 +Bleating in tender, trustful tones, + Resting on rocky crag or mound. +And following the beloved feet + That once had sought for them and found. + +These very shepherds of their flocks, + These loving lambs so meek to please, +Are worthy of recording words + And honour in their due degrees: +So I might live a hundred years, + And roam from strand to foreign strand, 30 +Yet not forget this flooded spring + And scarce-saved lambs of Westmoreland. + + + + +A BIRTHDAY + + +My heart is like a singing bird + Whose nest is in a watered shoot; +My heart is like an apple-tree + Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; +My heart is like a rainbow shell + That paddles in a halcyon sea; +My heart is gladder than all these + Because my love is come to me. + +Raise me a dais of silk and down; + Hang it with vair and purple dyes; 10 +Carve it in doves, and pomegranates, + And peacocks with a hundred eyes; +Work it in gold and silver grapes, + In leaves, and silver fleurs-de-lys; +Because the birthday of my life + Is come, my love is come to me. + + + + +REMEMBER + +Sonnet + + +Remember me when I am gone away, + Gone far away into the silent land; + When you can no more hold me by the hand, +Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. +Remember me when no more day by day + You tell me of our future that you planned: + Only remember me; you understand +It will be late to counsel then or pray. +Yet if you should forget me for a while + And afterwards remember, do not grieve: + For if the darkness and corruption leave + A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, +Better by far you should forget and smile + Than that you should remember and be sad. + + + + +AFTER DEATH + +Sonnet + + +The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept + And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may + Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay, +Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept. +He leaned above me, thinking that I slept + And could not hear him; but I heard him say: + 'Poor child, poor child:' and as he turned away +Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept. +He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold + That hid my face, or take my hand in his, + Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head: + He did not love me living; but once dead + He pitied me; and very sweet it is +To know he still is warm though I am cold. + + + + +AN END + + +Love, strong as Death, is dead. +Come, let us make his bed +Among the dying flowers: +A green turf at his head; +And a stone at his feet, +Whereon we may sit +In the quiet evening hours. + +He was born in the Spring, +And died before the harvesting: +On the last warm summer day 10 +He left us; he would not stay +For Autumn twilight cold and grey. +Sit we by his grave, and sing +He is gone away. + +To few chords and sad and low +Sing we so: +Be our eyes fixed on the grass +Shadow-veiled as the years pass +While we think of all that was +In the long ago. 20 + + + + +MY DREAM + + +Hear now a curious dream I dreamed last night +Each word whereof is weighed and sifted truth. + + I stood beside Euphrates while it swelled +Like overflowing Jordan in its youth: +It waxed and coloured sensibly to sight; +Till out of myriad pregnant waves there welled +Young crocodiles, a gaunt blunt-featured crew, +Fresh-hatched perhaps and daubed with birthday dew. +The rest if I should tell, I fear my friend +My closest friend would deem the facts untrue; 10 +And therefore it were wisely left untold; +Yet if you will, why, hear it to the end. + + Each crocodile was girt with massive gold +And polished stones that with their wearers grew: +But one there was who waxed beyond the rest, +Wore kinglier girdle and a kingly crown, +Whilst crowns and orbs and sceptres starred his breast. +All gleamed compact and green with scale on scale, +But special burnishment adorned his mail +And special terror weighed upon his frown; 20 +His punier brethren quaked before his tail, +Broad as a rafter, potent as a flail. +So he grew lord and master of his kin: +But who shall tell the tale of all their woes? +An execrable appetite arose, +He battened on them, crunched, and sucked them in. +He knew no law, he feared no binding law, +But ground them with inexorable jaw: +The luscious fat distilled upon his chin, +Exuded from his nostrils and his eyes, 30 +While still like hungry death he fed his maw; +Till every minor crocodile being dead +And buried too, himself gorged to the full, +He slept with breath oppressed and unstrung claw. +Oh marvel passing strange which next I saw: +In sleep he dwindled to the common size, +And all the empire faded from his coat. +Then from far off a winged vessel came, +Swift as a swallow, subtle as a flame: +I know not what it bore of freight or host, 40 +But white it was as an avenging ghost. +It levelled strong Euphrates in its course; +Supreme yet weightless as an idle mote +It seemed to tame the waters without force +Till not a murmur swelled or billow beat: +Lo, as the purple shadow swept the sands, +The prudent crocodile rose on his feet +And shed appropriate tears and wrung his hands. + + What can it mean? you ask. I answer not +For meaning, but myself must echo, What? 50 +And tell it as I saw it on the spot. + + + + +SONG + + +Oh roses for the flush of youth, + And laurel for the perfect prime; +But pluck an ivy branch for me + Grown old before my time. + +Oh violets for the grave of youth, + And bay for those dead in their prime; +Give me the withered leaves I chose + Before in the old time. + + + + +THE HOUR AND THE GHOST + + + BRIDE + +O love, love, hold me fast, +He draws me away from thee; +I cannot stem the blast, +Nor the cold strong sea: +Far away a light shines +Beyond the hills and pines; +It is lit for me. + + BRIDEGROOM + +I have thee close, my dear, +No terror can come near; +Only far off the northern light shines clear. 10 + + GHOST + +Come with me, fair and false, +To our home, come home. +It is my voice that calls: +Once thou wast not afraid +When I woo'd, and said, +'Come, our nest is newly made'-- +Now cross the tossing foam. + + BRIDE + +Hold me one moment longer, +He taunts me with the past, +His clutch is waxing stronger, 20 +Hold me fast, hold me fast. +He draws me from thy heart, +And I cannot withhold: +He bids my spirit depart +With him into the cold:-- +Oh bitter vows of old! + + BRIDEGROOM + +Lean on me, hide thine eyes: +Only ourselves, earth and skies, +Are present here: be wise. + + GHOST + +Lean on me, come away, 30 +I will guide and steady: +Come, for I will not stay: +Come, for house and bed are ready. +Ah, sure bed and house, +For better and worse, for life and death: +Goal won with shortened breath: +Come, crown our vows. + + BRIDE + +One moment, one more word, +While my heart beats still, +While my breath is stirred 40 +By my fainting will. +O friend forsake me not, +Forget not as I forgot: +But keep thy heart for me, +Keep thy faith true and bright; +Through the lone cold winter night +Perhaps I may come to thee. + + BRIDEGROOM + +Nay peace, my darling, peace: +Let these dreams and terrors cease: +Who spoke of death or change or aught but ease? 50 + + GHOST + +O fair frail sin, +O poor harvest gathered in! +Thou shalt visit him again +To watch his heart grow cold; +To know the gnawing pain +I knew of old; +To see one much more fair +Fill up the vacant chair, +Fill his heart, his children bear:-- +While thou and I together 60 +In the outcast weather +Toss and howl and spin. + + + + +A SUMMER WISH + + +Live all thy sweet life thro', + Sweet Rose, dew-sprent, +Drop down thine evening dew +To gather it anew +When day is bright: + I fancy thou wast meant +Chiefly to give delight. + +Sing in the silent sky, + Glad soaring bird; +Sing out thy notes on high 10 +To sunbeam straying by +Or passing cloud; + Heedless if thou art heard +Sing thy full song aloud. + +Oh that it were with me + As with the flower; +Blooming on its own tree +For butterfly and bee +Its summer morns: + That I might bloom mine hour 20 +A rose in spite of thorns. + +Oh that my work were done + As birds' that soar +Rejoicing in the sun: +That when my time is run +And daylight too, + I so might rest once more +Cool with refreshing dew. + + + + +AN APPLE GATHERING + + +I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple-tree + And wore them all that evening in my hair: +Then in due season when I went to see + I found no apples there. + +With dangling basket all along the grass + As I had come I went the selfsame track: +My neighbours mocked me while they saw me pass + So empty-handed back. + +Lilian and Lilias smiled in trudging by, + Their heaped-up basket teased me like a jeer; 10 +Sweet-voiced they sang beneath the sunset sky, + Their mother's home was near. + +Plump Gertrude passed me with her basket full, + A stronger hand than hers helped it along; +A voice talked with her through the shadows cool + More sweet to me than song. + +Ah Willie, Willie, was my love less worth + Than apples with their green leaves piled above? +I counted rosiest apples on the earth + Of far less worth than love. 20 + +So once it was with me you stooped to talk + Laughing and listening in this very lane: +To think that by this way we used to walk + We shall not walk again! + +I let my neighbours pass me, ones and twos + And groups; the latest said the night grew chill, +And hastened: but I loitered, while the dews + Fell fast I loitered still. + + + + +SONG + + +Two doves upon the selfsame branch, + Two lilies on a single stem, +Two butterflies upon one flower:-- + Oh happy they who look on them. + +Who look upon them hand in hand + Flushed in the rosy summer light; +Who look upon them hand in hand + And never give a thought to night. + + + + +MAUDE CLARE + + +Out of the church she followed them + With a lofty step and mien: +His bride was like a village maid, + Maude Clare was like a queen. + +'Son Thomas,' his lady mother said, + With smiles, almost with tears: +'May Nell and you but live as true + As we have done for years; + +'Your father thirty years ago + Had just your tale to tell; 10 +But he was not so pale as you, + Nor I so pale as Nell.' + +My lord was pale with inward strife, + And Nell was pale with pride; +My lord gazed long on pale Maude Clare + Or ever he kissed the bride. + +'Lo, I have brought my gift, my lord, + Have brought my gift,' she said: +'To bless the hearth, to bless the board, + To bless the marriage-bed. 20 + +'Here's my half of the golden chain + You wore about your neck, +That day we waded ankle-deep + For lilies in the beck: + +'Here's my half of the faded leaves + We plucked from budding bough, +With feet amongst the lily leaves,-- + The lilies are budding now.' + +He strove to match her scorn with scorn, + He faltered in his place: 30 +'Lady,' he said,--'Maude Clare,' he said,-- + 'Maude Clare:'--and hid his face. + +She turn'd to Nell: 'My Lady Nell, + I have a gift for you; +Though, were it fruit, the bloom were gone, + Or, were it flowers, the dew. + +'Take my share of a fickle heart, + Mine of a paltry love: +Take it or leave it as you will, + I wash my hands thereof.' 40 + +'And what you leave,' said Nell, 'I'll take, + And what you spurn, I'll wear; +For he's my lord for better and worse, + And him I love, Maude Clare. + +'Yea, though you're taller by the head, + More wise, and much more fair; +I'll love him till he loves me best, + Me best of all, Maude Clare.' + + + + +ECHO + + +Come to me in the silence of the night; + Come in the speaking silence of a dream; +Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright + As sunlight on a stream; + Come back in tears, +O memory, hope, love of finished years. + +Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, + Whose wakening should have been in Paradise, +Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet; + Where thirsting longing eyes 10 + Watch the slow door +That opening, letting in, lets out no more. + +Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live + My very life again though cold in death: +Come back to me in dreams, that I may give + Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: + Speak low, lean low, +As long ago, my love, how long ago! + + + + +MY SECRET + + +I tell my secret? No indeed, not I: +Perhaps some day, who knows? +But not to-day; it froze, and blows, and snows, +And you're too curious: fie! +You want to hear it? well: +Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell. + + Or, after all, perhaps there's none: +Suppose there is no secret after all, +But only just my fun. +To-day's a nipping day, a biting day; 10 +In which one wants a shawl, +A veil, a cloak, and other wraps: +I cannot ope to every one who taps, +And let the draughts come whistling through my hall; +Come bounding and surrounding me, +Come buffeting, astounding me, +Nipping and clipping through my wraps and all. +I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows +His nose to Russian snows +To be pecked at by every wind that blows? 20 +You would not peck? I thank you for good will, +Believe, but leave that truth untested still. + + Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust +March with its peck of dust, +Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers, +Nor even May, whose flowers +One frost may wither through the sunless hours. + +Perhaps some languid summer day, +When drowsy birds sing less and less, +And golden fruit is ripening to excess, 30 +If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud, +And the warm wind is neither still nor loud, +Perhaps my secret I may say, +Or you may guess. + + + + +ANOTHER SPRING + + +If I might see another Spring + I'd not plant summer flowers and wait: +I'd have my crocuses at once, +My leafless pink mezereons, + My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet + My white or azure violet, +Leaf-nested primrose; anything + To blow at once, not late. + +If I might see another Spring + I'd listen to the daylight birds 10 +That build their nests and pair and sing, +Nor wait for mateless nightingale; + I'd listen to the lusty herds, + The ewes with lambs as white as snow, +I'd find out music in the hail + And all the winds that blow. + +If I might see another Spring-- + Oh stinging comment on my past +That all my past results in 'if'-- + If I might see another Spring 20 +I'd laugh to-day, to-day is brief; +I would not wait for anything: + I'd use to-day that cannot last, + Be glad to-day and sing. + + + + +A PEAL OF BELLS + + +Strike the bells wantonly, + Tinkle tinkle well; +Bring me wine, bring me flowers, + Ring the silver bell. +All my lamps burn scented oil, + Hung on laden orange-trees, +Whose shadowed foliage is the foil + To golden lamps and oranges. +Heap my golden plates with fruit, + Golden fruit, fresh-plucked and ripe; 10 + Strike the bells and breathe the pipe; +Shut out showers from summer hours-- +Silence that complaining lute-- + Shut out thinking, shut out pain, + From hours that cannot come again. + +Strike the bells solemnly, + Ding dong deep: +My friend is passing to his bed, + Fast asleep; +There's plaited linen round his head, 20 + While foremost go his feet-- +His feet that cannot carry him. +My feast's a show, my lights are dim; + Be still, your music is not sweet,-- +There is no music more for him: + His lights are out, his feast is done; +His bowl that sparkled to the brim +Is drained, is broken, cannot hold; +My blood is chill, his blood is cold; + His death is full, and mine begun. 30 + + + + +FATA MORGANA + + +A blue-eyed phantom far before + Is laughing, leaping toward the sun: +Like lead I chase it evermore, + I pant and run. + +It breaks the sunlight bound on bound: + Goes singing as it leaps along +To sheep-bells with a dreamy sound + A dreamy song. + +I laugh, it is so brisk and gay; + It is so far before, I weep: 10 +I hope I shall lie down some day, + Lie down and sleep. + + + + +'NO, THANK YOU, JOHN' + + +I never said I loved you, John: + Why will you tease me day by day, +And wax a weariness to think upon + With always 'do' and 'pray'? + +You know I never loved you, John; + No fault of mine made me your toast: +Why will you haunt me with a face as wan + As shows an hour-old ghost? + +I dare say Meg or Moll would take + Pity upon you, if you'd ask: 10 +And pray don't remain single for my sake + Who can't perform that task. + +I have no heart?--Perhaps I have not; + But then you're mad to take offence +That I don't give you what I have not got: + Use your own common sense. + +Let bygones be bygones: + Don't call me false, who owed not to be true: +I'd rather answer 'No' to fifty Johns + Than answer 'Yes' to you. 20 + +Let's mar our pleasant days no more, + Song-birds of passage, days of youth: +Catch at to-day, forget the days before: + I'll wink at your untruth. + +Let us strike hands as hearty friends; + No more, no less; and friendship's good: +Only don't keep in view ulterior ends, + And points not understood + +In open treaty. Rise above + Quibbles and shuffling off and on: 30 +Here's friendship for you if you like; but love,-- + No, thank you, John. + + + + +MAY + + +I cannot tell you how it was; +But this I know: it came to pass +Upon a bright and breezy day +When May was young; ah, pleasant May! +As yet the poppies were not born +Between the blades of tender corn; +The last eggs had not hatched as yet, +Nor any bird forgone its mate. + + I cannot tell you what it was; +But this I know: it did but pass. 10 +It passed away with sunny May, +With all sweet things it passed away, +And left me old, and cold, and grey. + + + + +A PAUSE OF THOUGHT + + +I looked for that which is not, nor can be, + And hope deferred made my heart sick in truth: + But years must pass before a hope of youth + Is resigned utterly. + +I watched and waited with a steadfast will: + And though the object seemed to flee away + That I so longed for, ever day by day + I watched and waited still. + +Sometimes I said: This thing shall be no more; + My expectation wearies and shall cease; 10 + I will resign it now and be at peace: + Yet never gave it o'er. + +Sometimes I said: It is an empty name + I long for; to a name why should I give + The peace of all the days I have to live?-- + Yet gave it all the same. + +Alas, thou foolish one! alike unfit + For healthy joy and salutary pain: + Thou knowest the chase useless, and again + Turnest to follow it. 20 + + + + +TWILIGHT CALM + + + Oh, pleasant eventide! + Clouds on the western side +Grow grey and greyer hiding the warm sun: +The bees and birds, their happy labours done, + Seek their close nests and bide. + + Screened in the leafy wood + The stock-doves sit and brood: +The very squirrel leaps from bough to bough +But lazily; pauses; and settles now + Where once he stored his food. 10 + + One by one the flowers close, + Lily and dewy rose +Shutting their tender petals from the moon: +The grasshoppers are still; but not so soon + Are still the noisy crows. + + The dormouse squats and eats + Choice little dainty bits +Beneath the spreading roots of a broad lime; +Nibbling his fill he stops from time to time + And listens where he sits. 20 + + From far the lowings come + Of cattle driven home: +From farther still the wind brings fitfully +The vast continual murmur of the sea, + Now loud, now almost dumb. + + The gnats whirl in the air, + The evening gnats; and there +The owl opes broad his eyes and wings to sail +For prey; the bat wakes; and the shell-less snail + Comes forth, clammy and bare. 30 + + Hark! that's the nightingale, + Telling the selfsame tale +Her song told when this ancient earth was young: +So echoes answered when her song was sung + In the first wooded vale. + + We call it love and pain + The passion of her strain; +And yet we little understand or know: +Why should it not be rather joy that so + Throbs in each throbbing vein? 40 + + In separate herds the deer + Lie; here the bucks, and here +The does, and by its mother sleeps the fawn: +Through all the hours of night until the dawn + They sleep, forgetting fear. + + The hare sleeps where it lies, + With wary half-closed eyes; +The cock has ceased to crow, the hen to cluck: +Only the fox is out, some heedless duck + Or chicken to surprise. 50 + + Remote, each single star + Comes out, till there they are +All shining brightly: how the dews fall damp! +While close at hand the glow-worm lights her lamp + Or twinkles from afar. + + But evening now is done + As much as if the sun +Day-giving had arisen in the East: +For night has come; and the great calm has ceased, + The quiet sands have run. 60 + + + + +WIFE TO HUSBAND + + +Pardon the faults in me, + For the love of years ago: + Good-bye. +I must drift across the sea, + I must sink into the snow, + I must die. + +You can bask in this sun, + You can drink wine, and eat: + Good-bye. +I must gird myself and run, 10 + Though with unready feet: + I must die. + +Blank sea to sail upon, + Cold bed to sleep in: + Good-bye. +While you clasp, I must be gone + For all your weeping: + I must die. + +A kiss for one friend, + And a word for two,-- 20 + Good-bye:-- +A lock that you must send, + A kindness you must do: + I must die. + +Not a word for you, + Not a lock or kiss, + Good-bye. +We, one, must part in two; + Verily death is this: + I must die. 30 + + + + +THREE SEASONS + + + 'A cup for hope!' she said, +In springtime ere the bloom was old: +The crimson wine was poor and cold + By her mouth's richer red. + + 'A cup for love!' how low, +How soft the words; and all the while +Her blush was rippling with a smile + Like summer after snow. + + 'A cup for memory!' +Cold cup that one must drain alone: 10 +While autumn winds are up and moan + Across the barren sea. + + Hope, memory, love: +Hope for fair morn, and love for day, +And memory for the evening grey + And solitary dove. + + + + +MIRAGE + + +The hope I dreamed of was a dream, + Was but a dream; and now I wake, +Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, + For a dream's sake. + +I hang my harp upon a tree, + A weeping willow in a lake; +I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapt + For a dream's sake. + +Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; + My silent heart, lie still and break: 10 +Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed + For a dream's sake. + + + + +SHUT OUT + + +The door was shut. I looked between + Its iron bars; and saw it lie, + My garden, mine, beneath the sky, +Pied with all flowers bedewed and green: + +From bough to bough the song-birds crossed, + From flower to flower the moths and bees; + With all its nests and stately trees +It had been mine, and it was lost. + +A shadowless spirit kept the gate, + Blank and unchanging like the grave. 10 + I peering through said: 'Let me have +Some buds to cheer my outcast state.' + +He answered not. 'Or give me, then, + But one small twig from shrub or tree; + And bid my home remember me +Until I come to it again.' + +The spirit was silent; but he took + Mortar and stone to build a wall; + He left no loophole great or small +Through which my straining eyes might look: 20 + +So now I sit here quite alone + Blinded with tears; nor grieve for that, + For nought is left worth looking at +Since my delightful land is gone. + +A violet bed is budding near, + Wherein a lark has made her nest: + And good they are, but not the best; +And dear they are, but not so dear. + + + + +SOUND SLEEP + + +Some are laughing, some are weeping; +She is sleeping, only sleeping. +Round her rest wild flowers are creeping; +There the wind is heaping, heaping +Sweetest sweets of Summer's keeping. +By the corn-fields ripe for reaping. + +There are lilies, and there blushes +The deep rose, and there the thrushes +Sing till latest sunlight flushes +In the west; a fresh wind brushes 10 +Through the leaves while evening hushes. + +There by day the lark is singing +And the grass and weeds are springing; +There by night the bat is winging; +There for ever winds are bringing +Far-off chimes of church-bells ringing. + +Night and morning, noon and even, +Their sound fills her dreams with Heaven: +The long strife at lent is striven: +Till her grave-bands shall be riven 20 +Such is the good portion given +To her soul at rest and shriven. + + + + +SONG + + +She sat and sang alway + By the green margin of a stream, +Watching the fishes leap and play + Beneath the glad sunbeam. + +I sat and wept alway + Beneath the moon's most shadowy beam, +Watching the blossoms of the May + Weep leaves into the stream. + +I wept for memory; + She sang for hope that is so fair: 10 +My tears were swallowed by the sea; + Her songs died on the air. + + + + +SONG + + +When I am dead, my dearest, + Sing no sad songs for me; +Plant thou no roses at my head, + Nor shady cypress tree: +Be the green grass above me + With showers and dewdrops wet; +And if thou wilt, remember, + And if thou wilt, forget. + +I shall not see the shadows, + I shall not feel the rain; 10 +I shall not hear the nightingale + Sing on, as if in pain: +And dreaming through the twilight + That doth not rise nor set, +Haply I may remember, + And haply may forget. + + + + +DEAD BEFORE DEATH + +Sonnet + + +Ah! changed and cold, how changed and very cold, + With stiffened smiling lips and cold calm eyes: + Changed, yet the same; much knowing, little wise; +_This_ was the promise of the days of old! +Grown hard and stubborn in the ancient mould, + Grown rigid in the sham of lifelong lies: + We hoped for better things as years would rise, +But it is over as a tale once told. +All fallen the blossom that no fruitage bore, + All lost the present and the future time, +All lost, all lost, the lapse that went before: +So lost till death shut-to the opened door, + So lost from chime to everlasting chime, +So cold and lost for ever evermore. + + + + +BITTER FOR SWEET + + +Summer is gone with all its roses, + Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers, + Its warm air and refreshing showers: + And even Autumn closes. + +Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going, + And winter comes which is yet colder; + Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder, + And the last buds cease blowing. + + + + +SISTER MAUDE + + +Who told my mother of my shame, + Who told my father of my dear? +Oh who but Maude, my sister Maude, + Who lurked to spy and peer. + +Cold he lies, as cold as stone, + With his clotted curls about his face: +The comeliest corpse in all the world + And worthy of a queen's embrace. + +You might have spared his soul, sister, + Have spared my soul, your own soul too: 10 +Though I had not been born at all, + He'd never have looked at you. + +My father may sleep in Paradise, + My mother at Heaven-gate: +But sister Maude shall get no sleep + Either early or late. + +My father may wear a golden gown, + My mother a crown may win; +If my dear and I knocked at Heaven-gate + Perhaps they'd let us in: 20 +But sister Maude, oh sister Maude, + Bide _you_ with death and sin. + + + + +REST + +Sonnet + + +O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes; + Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth; + Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth +With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs. +She hath no questions, she hath no replies, + Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth + Of all that irked her from the hour of birth; +With stillness that is almost Paradise. +Darkness more clear than noon-day holdeth her, + Silence more musical than any song; +Even her very heart has ceased to stir: +Until the morning of Eternity +Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be; + And when she wakes she will not think it long. + + + + +THE FIRST SPRING DAY + + +I wonder if the sap is stirring yet, +If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate, +If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun +And crocus fires are kindling one by one: + Sing, robin, sing; +I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring. + +I wonder if the springtide of this year +Will bring another Spring both lost and dear; +If heart and spirit will find out their Spring, +Or if the world alone will bud and sing: 10 + Sing, hope, to me; +Sweet notes, my hope, soft notes for memory. + +The sap will surely quicken soon or late, +The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate; +So Spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom, +Or in this world, or in the world to come: + Sing, voice of Spring, +Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing. + + + + +THE CONVENT THRESHOLD + + +There's blood between us, love, my love, +There's father's blood, there's brother's blood; +And blood's a bar I cannot pass: +I choose the stairs that mount above, +Stair after golden skyward stair, +To city and to sea of glass. +My lily feet are soiled with mud, +With scarlet mud which tells a tale +Of hope that was, of guilt that was, +Of love that shall not yet avail; 10 +Alas, my heart, if I could bare +My heart, this selfsame stain is there: +I seek the sea of glass and fire +To wash the spot, to burn the snare; +Lo, stairs are meant to lift us higher: +Mount with me, mount the kindled stair. + + Your eyes look earthward, mine look up. +I see the far-off city grand, +Beyond the hills a watered land, +Beyond the gulf a gleaming strand 20 +Of mansions where the righteous sup; +Who sleep at ease among their trees, +Or wake to sing a cadenced hymn +With Cherubim and Seraphim; +They bore the Cross, they drained the cup, +Racked, roasted, crushed, wrenched limb from limb, +They the offscouring of the world: +The heaven of starry heavens unfurled, +The sun before their face is dim. + +You looking earthward what see you? 30 +Milk-white wine-flushed among the vines, +Up and down leaping, to and fro, +Most glad, most full, made strong with wines, +Blooming as peaches pearled with dew, +Their golden windy hair afloat, +Love-music warbling in their throat, +Young men and women come and go. + + You linger, yet the time is short: +Flee for your life, gird up your strength +To flee; the shadows stretched at length 40 +Show that day wanes, that night draws nigh; +Flee to the mountain, tarry not. +Is this a time for smile and sigh, +For songs among the secret trees +Where sudden blue birds nest and sport? +The time is short and yet you stay: +To-day while it is called to-day +Kneel, wrestle, knock, do violence, pray; +To-day is short, to-morrow nigh: +Why will you die? why will you die? 50 + + You sinned with me a pleasant sin: +Repent with me, for I repent. +Woe's me the lore I must unlearn! +Woe's me that easy way we went, +So rugged when I would return! +How long until my sleep begin, +How long shall stretch these nights and days? +Surely, clean Angels cry, she prays; +She laves her soul with tedious tears: +How long must stretch these years and years? 60 + + I turn from you my cheeks and eyes, +My hair which you shall see no more-- +Alas for joy that went before, +For joy that dies, for love that dies. +Only my lips still turn to you, +My livid lips that cry, Repent. +Oh weary life, oh weary Lent, +Oh weary time whose stars are few. + +How should I rest in Paradise, +Or sit on steps of heaven alone? 70 +If Saints and Angels spoke of love +Should I not answer from my throne: +Have pity upon me, ye my friends, +For I have heard the sound thereof: +Should I not turn with yearning eyes, +Turn earthwards with a pitiful pang? +Oh save me from a pang in heaven. +By all the gifts we took and gave, +Repent, repent, and be forgiven: +This life is long, but yet it ends; 80 +Repent and purge your soul and save: +No gladder song the morning stars +Upon their birthday morning sang +Than Angels sing when one repents. + + I tell you what I dreamed last night: +A spirit with transfigured face +Fire-footed clomb an infinite space. +I heard his hundred pinions clang, +Heaven-bells rejoicing rang and rang, +Heaven-air was thrilled with subtle scents, 90 +Worlds spun upon their rushing cars: +He mounted shrieking: 'Give me light.' +Still light was poured on him, more light; +Angels, Archangels he outstripped +Exultant in exceeding might, +And trod the skirts of Cherubim. +Still 'Give me light,' he shrieked; and dipped +His thirsty face, and drank a sea, +Athirst with thirst it could not slake. +I saw him, drunk with knowledge, take 100 +From aching brows the aureole crown-- +His locks writhed like a cloven snake-- +He left his throne to grovel down +And lick the dust of Seraphs' feet: +For what is knowledge duly weighed? +Knowledge is strong, but love is sweet; +Yea all the progress he had made +Was but to learn that all is small +Save love, for love is all in all. + + I tell you what I dreamed last night: 110 +It was not dark, it was not light, +Cold dews had drenched my plenteous hair +Through clay; you came to seek me there. +And 'Do you dream of me?' you said. +My heart was dust that used to leap +To you; I answered half asleep: +'My pillow is damp, my sheets are red, +There's a leaden tester to my bed: +Find you a warmer playfellow, +A warmer pillow for your head, 120 +A kinder love to love than mine.' +You wrung your hands; while I like lead +Crushed downwards through the sodden earth: +You smote your hands but not in mirth, +And reeled but were not drunk with wine. + + For all night long I dreamed of you: +I woke and prayed against my will, +Then slept to dream of you again. +At length I rose and knelt and prayed: +I cannot write the words I said, 130 +My words were slow, my tears were few; +But through the dark my silence spoke +Like thunder. When this morning broke, +My face was pinched, my hair was grey, +And frozen blood was on the sill +Where stifling in my struggle I lay. + + If now you saw me you would say: +Where is the face I used to love? +And I would answer: Gone before; +It tarries veiled in paradise. 140 +When once the morning star shall rise, +When earth with shadow flees away +And we stand safe within the door, +Then you shall lift the veil thereof. +Look up, rise up: for far above +Our palms are grown, our place is set; +There we shall meet as once we met +And love with old familiar love. + + + + +UP-HILL + + +Does the road wind up-hill all the way? + Yes, to the very end. +Will the day's journey take the whole long day? + From morn to night, my friend. + +But is there for the night a resting-place? + A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. +May not the darkness hide it from my face? + You cannot miss that inn. + +Shall I meet other wayfarers at night? + Those who have gone before. 10 +Then must I knock, or call when just in sight? + They will not keep you standing at that door. + +Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? + Of labour you shall find the sum. +Will there be beds for me and all who seek? + Yea, beds for all who come. + + + + +DEVOTIONAL PIECES + + +'THE LOVE OF CHRIST WHICH PASSETH KNOWLEDGE' + + + +I bore with thee long weary days and nights, + Through many pangs of heart, through many tears; +I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights, + For three and thirty years. + +Who else had dared for thee what I have dared? + I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above; +I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared: + Give thou Me love for love. + +For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth, + For thee I trembled in the nightly frost: 10 +Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth: + Why wilt thou still be lost? + +I bore thee on My shoulders and rejoiced: + Men only marked upon My shoulders borne +The branding cross; and shouted hungry-voiced, + Or wagged their heads in scorn. + +Thee did nails grave upon My hands, thy name + Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine eyes: +I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame; + I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. 20 + +A thief upon My right hand and My left; + Six hours alone, athirst, in misery: +At length in death one smote My heart and cleft + A hiding-place for thee. + +Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down + More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and sleep: +So did I win a kingdom,--share my crown; + A harvest,--come and reap. + + + + +'A BRUISED REED SHALL HE NOT BREAK' + + +I will accept thy will to do and be, + Thy hatred and intolerance of sin, + Thy will at least to love, that burns within + And thirsteth after Me: +So will I render fruitful, blessing still, + The germs and small beginnings in thy heart, + Because thy will cleaves to the better part.-- + Alas, I cannot will. + +Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive + The inner unseen longings of the soul, 10 + I guide them turning towards Me; I control + And charm hearts till they grieve: +If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass, + Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love; + For I have power in earth and heaven above.-- + I cannot wish, alas! + +What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet + I still must strive to win thee and constrain: + For thee I hung upon the cross in pain, + How then can I forget? 20 +If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate, + Nor choose, nor wish,--resign thyself, be still + Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will.-- + I do not deprecate. + + + + +A BETTER RESURRECTION + + +I have no wit, no words, no tears; + My heart within me like a stone +Is numbed too much for hopes or fears. + Look right, look left, I dwell alone; +I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief + No everlasting hills I see; +My life is in the falling leaf: + O Jesus, quicken me. + +My life is like a faded leaf, + My harvest dwindled to a husk; 10 +Truly my life is void and brief + And tedious in the barren dusk; +My life is like a frozen thing, + No bud nor greenness can I see: +Yet rise it shall--the sap of Spring; + O Jesus, rise in me. + +My life is like a broken bowl, + A broken bowl that cannot hold +One drop of water for my soul + Or cordial in the searching cold 20 +Cast in the fire the perished thing, + Melt and remould it, till it be +A royal cup for Him my King: + O Jesus, drink of me. + + + + +ADVENT + + +This Advent moon shines cold and clear, + These Advent nights are long; +Our lamps have burned year after year + And still their flame is strong. +'Watchman, what of the night?' we cry, + Heart-sick with hope deferred: +'No speaking signs are in the sky,' + Is still the watchman's word. + +The Porter watches at the gate, + The servants watch within; 10 +The watch is long betimes and late, + The prize is slow to win. +'Watchman, what of the night?' But still + His answer sounds the same: +'No daybreak tops the utmost hill, + Nor pale our lamps of flame.' + +One to another hear them speak + The patient virgins wise: +'Surely He is not far to seek'-- + 'All night we watch and rise.' 20 +'The days are evil looking back, + The coming days are dim; +Yet count we not His promise slack, + But watch and wait for Him.' + +One with another, soul with soul, + They kindle fire from fire: +'Friends watch us who have touched the goal.' + 'They urge us, come up higher.' +'With them shall rest our waysore feet, + With them is built our home, 30 +With Christ.'--'They sweet, but He most sweet, + Sweeter than honeycomb.' + +There no more parting, no more pain, + The distant ones brought near, +The lost so long are found again, + Long lost but longer dear: +Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, + Nor heart conceived that rest, +With them our good things long deferred, + With Jesus Christ our Best. 40 + +We weep because the night is long, + We laugh for day shall rise, +We sing a slow contented song + And knock at Paradise. +Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept + For us, we hold Him fast; +And will not let Him go except + He bless us first or last. + +Weeping we hold Him fast to-night; + We will not let Him go 50 +Till daybreak smite our wearied sight + And summer smite the snow: +Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove + Shall coo the livelong day; +Then He shall say, 'Arise, My love, + My fair one, come away.' + + + + +THE THREE ENEMIES + + +THE FLESH + +'Sweet, thou art pale.' + 'More pale to see, +Christ hung upon the cruel tree +And bore His Father's wrath for me.' + +'Sweet, thou art sad.' + 'Beneath a rod +More heavy, Christ for my sake trod +The winepress of the wrath of God.' + +'Sweet, thou art weary.' + 'Not so Christ: +Whose mighty love of me sufficed +For Strength, Salvation, Eucharist.' + +'Sweet, thou art footsore.' + 'If I bleed, 10 +His feet have bled; yea in my need +His Heart once bled for mine indeed.' + +THE WORLD + +'Sweet, thou art young.' + 'So He was young +Who for my sake in silence hung +Upon the Cross with Passion wrung.' + +'Look, thou art fair.' + 'He was more fair +Than men, Who deigned for me to wear +A visage marred beyond compare.' + +'And thou hast riches.' + 'Daily bread: +All else is His: Who, living, dead, 20 +For me lacked where to lay His Head.' + +'And life is sweet.' + 'It was not so +To Him, Whose Cup did overflow +With mine unutterable woe.' + +THE DEVIL + +'Thou drinkest deep.' + 'When Christ would sup +He drained the dregs from out my cup: +So how should I be lifted up?' + +'Thou shalt win Glory.' + 'In the skies, +Lord Jesus, cover up mine eyes +Lest they should look on vanities.' 30 + +'Thou shalt have Knowledge.' + 'Helpless dust! +In Thee, O Lord, I put my trust: +Answer Thou for me, Wise and Just.' + +'And Might.'-- + 'Get thee behind me. Lord, +Who hast redeemed and not abhorred +My soul, oh keep it by Thy Word.' + + + + +THE ONE CERTAINTY + +Sonnet + + +Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith, + All things are vanity. The eye and ear + Cannot be filled with what they see and hear. +Like early dew, or like the sudden breath +Of wind, or like the grass that withereth, + Is man, tossed to and fro by hope and fear: + So little joy hath he, so little cheer, +Till all things end in the long dust of death. +To-day is still the same as yesterday, + To-morrow also even as one of them; +And there is nothing new under the sun: +Until the ancient race of Time be run, + The old thorns shall grow out of the old stem, +And morning shall be cold and twilight grey. + + + + +CHRISTIAN AND JEW + +A DIALOGUE + + +'Oh happy happy land! +Angels like rushes stand + About the wells of light.'-- + 'Alas, I have not eyes for this fair sight: +Hold fast my hand.'-- + +'As in a soft wind, they +Bend all one blessed way, + Each bowed in his own glory, star with star.'-- + 'I cannot see so far, + Here shadows are.'-- 10 + +'White-winged the cherubim, +Yet whiter seraphim, + Glow white with intense fire of love.'-- +'Mine eyes are dim: + I look in vain above, +And miss their hymn.'-- + +'Angels, Archangels cry +One to other ceaselessly + (I hear them sing) + One "Holy, Holy, Holy" to their King.'-- 20 +'I do not hear them, I.'-- + +'At one side Paradise + Is curtained from the rest, +Made green for wearied eyes; + Much softer than the breast +Of mother-dove clad in a rainbow's dyes. + +'All precious souls are there + Most safe, elect by grace, + All tears are wiped for ever from their face: +Untired in prayer 30 + They wait and praise + Hidden for a little space. + +'Boughs of the Living Vine +They spread in summer shine + Green leaf with leaf: +Sap of the Royal Vine it stirs like wine + In all both less and chief. + +'Sing to the Lord, + All spirits of all flesh, sing; +For He hath not abhorred 40 + Our low estate nor scorn'd our offering: + Shout to our King.'-- + +'But Zion said: + My Lord forgetteth me. +Lo, she hath made her bed + In dust; forsaken weepeth she + Where alien rivers swell the sea. + +'She laid her body as the ground, + Her tender body as the ground to those +Who passed; her harpstrings cannot sound 50 +In a strange land; discrowned + She sits, and drunk with woes.'-- + +'O drunken not with wine, + Whose sins and sorrows have fulfilled the sum,-- + Be not afraid, arise, be no more dumb; +Arise, shine, + For thy light is come.'-- + +'Can these bones live?'-- + 'God knows: + The prophet saw such clothed with flesh and skin; + A wind blew on them and life entered in; 60 +They shook and rose. + Hasten the time, O Lord, blot out their sin, + Let life begin.' + + + + +SWEET DEATH + + +The sweetest blossoms die. + And so it was that, going day by day + Unto the church to praise and pray, +And crossing the green churchyard thoughtfully, + I saw how on the graves the flowers + Shed their fresh leaves in showers, +And how their perfume rose up to the sky + Before it passed away. + +The youngest blossoms die. + They die, and fall and nourish the rich earth 10 + From which they lately had their birth; +Sweet life, but sweeter death that passeth by + And is as though it had not been:-- + All colors turn to green: +The bright hues vanish, and the odours fly, + The grass hath lasting worth. + +And youth and beauty die. + So be it, O my God, Thou God of truth: + Better than beauty and than youth +Are Saints and Angels, a glad company; 20 + And Thou, O lord, our Rest and Ease, + Are better far than these. +Why should we shrink from our full harvest? why + Prefer to glean with Ruth? + + + + +SYMBOLS + + +I watched a rosebud very long + Brought on by dew and sun and shower, + Waiting to see the perfect flower: +Then, when I thought it should be strong, + It opened at the matin hour +And fell at evensong. + +I watched a nest from day to day, + A green nest full of pleasant shade, + Wherein three speckled eggs were laid: +But when they should have hatched in May, 10 + The two old birds had grown afraid +Or tired, and flew away. + +Then in my wrath I broke the bough + That I had tended so with care, + Hoping its scent should fill the air; +I crushed the eggs, not heeding how + Their ancient promise had been fair: +I would have vengeance now. + +But the dead branch spoke from the sod, + And the eggs answered me again: 20 + Because we failed dost thou complain? +Is thy wrath just? And what if God, + Who waiteth for thy fruits in vain, +Should also take the rod? + + + + +'CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD' + + +Flowers preach to us if we will hear:-- +The rose saith in the dewy morn: +I am most fair; +Yet all my loveliness is born +Upon a thorn. +The poppy saith amid the corn: +Let but my scarlet head appear +And I am held in scorn; +Yet juice of subtle virtue lies +Within my cup of curious dyes. 10 +The lilies say: Behold how we +Preach without words of purity. +The violets whisper from the shade +Which their own leaves have made: +Men scent our fragrance on the air, +Yet take no heed +Of humble lessons we would read. +But not alone the fairest flowers: +The merest grass +Along the roadside where we pass, 20 +Lichen and moss and sturdy weed, +Tell of His love who sends the dew, +The rain and sunshine too, +To nourish one small seed. + + + + +THE WORLD + +Sonnet + + +By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair: + But all night as the moon so changeth she; + Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy +And subtle serpents gliding in her hair. +By day she woos me to the outer air, + Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety: + But through the night, a beast she grins at me, +A very monster void of love and prayer. +By day she stands a lie: by night she stands + In all the naked horror of the truth +With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands. +Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell + My soul to her, give her my life and youth, +Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell? + + + + +A TESTIMONY + + +I said of laughter: it is vain. + Of mirth I said: what profits it? + Therefore I found a book, and writ +Therein how ease and also pain, +How health and sickness, every one +Is vanity beneath the sun. + +Man walks in a vain shadow; he + Disquieteth himself in vain. + The things that were shall be again; +The rivers do not fill the sea, 10 +But turn back to their secret source; +The winds too turn upon their course. + +Our treasures moth and rust corrupt, + Or thieves break through and steal, or they + Make themselves wings and fly away. +One man made merry as he supped, +Nor guessed how when that night grew dim, +His soul would be required of him. + +We build our houses on the sand + Comely withoutside and within; 20 + But when the winds and rains begin +To beat on them, they cannot stand; +They perish, quickly overthrown, +Loose from the very basement stone. + +All things are vanity, I said: + Yea vanity of vanities. + The rich man dies; and the poor dies: +The worm feeds sweetly on the dead. +Whate'er thou lackest, keep this trust: +All in the end shall have but dust. 30 + +The one inheritance, which best + And worst alike shall find and share: + The wicked cease from troubling there, +And there the weary are at rest; +There all the wisdom of the wise +Is vanity of vanities. + +Man flourishes as a green leaf, + And as a leaf doth pass away; + Or as a shade that cannot stay, +And leaves no track, his course is brief: 40 +Yet doth man hope and fear and plan +Till he is dead:--oh foolish man! + +Our eyes cannot be satisfied + With seeing, nor our ears be filled + With hearing: yet we plant and build +And buy and make our borders wide; +We gather wealth, we gather care, +But know not who shall be our heir. + +Why should we hasten to arise + So early, and so late take rest? 50 + Our labour is not good; our best +Hopes fade; our heart is stayed on lies: +Verily, we sow wind; and we +Shall reap the whirlwind, verily. + +He who hath little shall not lack; + He who hath plenty shall decay: + Our fathers went; we pass away; +Our children follow on our track: +So generations fail, and so +They are renewed, and come and go. 60 + +The earth is fattened with our dead; + She swallows more and doth not cease: + Therefore her wine and oil increase +And her sheaves are not numbered; +Therefore her plants are green, and all +Her pleasant trees lusty and tall. + +Therefore the maidens cease to sing, + And the young men are very sad; + Therefore the sowing is not glad, +And mournful is the harvesting. 70 +Of high and low, of great and small, +Vanity is the lot of all. + +A King dwelt in Jerusalem; + He was the wisest man on earth; + He had all riches from his birth, +And pleasures till he tired of them; +Then, having tested all things, he +Witnessed that all are vanity. + + + + +SLEEP AT SEA + + +Sound the deep waters:-- + Who shall sound that deep?-- +Too short the plummet, + And the watchmen sleep. +Some dream of effort + Up a toilsome steep; +Some dream of pasture grounds + For harmless sheep. + +White shapes flit to and fro + From mast to mast; 10 +They feel the distant tempest + That nears them fast: +Great rocks are straight ahead, + Great shoals not past; +They shout to one another + Upon the blast. + +Oh, soft the streams drop music + Between the hills, +And musical the birds' nests + Beside those rills: 20 +The nests are types of home + Love-hidden from ills, +The nests are types of spirits + Love-music fills. + +So dream the sleepers, + Each man in his place; +The lightning shows the smile + Upon each face: +The ship is driving, driving, + It drives apace: 30 +And sleepers smile, and spirits + Bewail their case. + +The lightning glares and reddens + Across the skies; +It seems but sunset + To those sleeping eyes. +When did the sun go down + On such a wise? +From such a sunset + When shall day arise? 40 + +'Wake,' call the spirits: + But to heedless ears: +They have forgotten sorrows + And hopes and fears; +They have forgotten perils + And smiles and tears; +Their dream has held them long, + Long years and years. + +'Wake,' call the spirits again: + But it would take 50 +A louder summons + To bid them awake. +Some dream of pleasure + For another's sake; +Some dream, forgetful + Of a lifelong ache. + +One by one slowly, + Ah, how sad and slow! +Wailing and praying + The spirits rise and go: 60 +Clear stainless spirits + White as white as snow; +Pale spirits, wailing + For an overthrow. + +One by one flitting, + Like a mournful bird +Whose song is tired at last + For no mate is heard. +The loving voice is silent, + The useless word; 70 +One by one flitting + Sick with hope deferred. + +Driving and driving, + The ship drives amain: +While swift from mast to mast + Shapes flit again, +Flit silent as the silence + Where men lie slain; +Their shadow cast upon the sails + Is like a stain. 80 + +No voice to call the sleepers, + No hand to raise: +They sleep to death in dreaming, + Of length of days. +Vanity of vanities, + The Preacher says: +Vanity is the end + Of all their ways. + + + + +FROM HOUSE TO HOME + + +The first was like a dream through summer heat, + The second like a tedious numbing swoon, +While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat + Beneath a winter moon. + +'But,' says my friend, 'what was this thing and where?' + It was a pleasure-place within my soul; +An earthly paradise supremely fair + That lured me from the goal. + +The first part was a tissue of hugged lies; + The second was its ruin fraught with pain: 10 +Why raise the fair delusion to the skies + But to be dashed again? + +My castle stood of white transparent glass + Glittering and frail with many a fretted spire, +But when the summer sunset came to pass + It kindled into fire. + +My pleasaunce was an undulating green, + Stately with trees whose shadows slept below, +With glimpses of smooth garden-beds between + Like flame or sky or snow. 20 + +Swift squirrels on the pastures took their ease, + With leaping lambs safe from the unfeared knife; +All singing-birds rejoicing in those trees + Fulfilled their careless life. + +Woodpigeons cooed there, stockdoves nestled there; + My trees were full of songs and flowers and fruit, +Their branches spread a city to the air + And mice lodged in their root. + +My heath lay farther off, where lizards lived + In strange metallic mail, just spied and gone; 30 +Like darted lightnings here and there perceived + But nowhere dwelt upon. + +Frogs and fat toads were there to hop or plod + And propagate in peace, an uncouth crew, +Where velvet-headed rushes rustling nod + And spill the morning dew. + +All caterpillars throve beneath my rule, + With snails and slugs in corners out of sight; +I never marred the curious sudden stool + That perfects in a night. 40 + +Safe in his excavated gallery + The burrowing mole groped on from year to year; +No harmless hedgehog curled because of me + His prickly back for fear. + +Oft times one like an angel walked with me, + With spirit-discerning eyes like flames of fire, +But deep as the unfathomed endless sea, + Fulfilling my desire: + +And sometimes like a snowdrift he was fair, + And sometimes like a sunset glorious red, 50 +And sometimes he had wings to scale the air + With aureole round his head. + +We sang our songs together by the way, + Calls and recalls and echoes of delight; +So communed we together all the day, + And so in dreams by night. + +I have no words to tell what way we walked. + What unforgotten path now closed and sealed; +I have no words to tell all things we talked, + All things that he revealed: 60 + +This only can I tell: that hour by hour + I waxed more feastful, lifted up and glad; +I felt no thorn-prick when I plucked a flower, + Felt not my friend was sad. + +'To-morrow,' once I said to him with smiles: + 'To-night,' he answered gravely and was dumb, +But pointed out the stones that numbered miles + And miles to come. + +'Not so,' I said: 'to-morrow shall be sweet; + To-night is not so sweet as coming days.' 70 +Then first I saw that he had turned his feet, + Had turned from me his face: + +Running and flying miles and miles he went, + But once looked back to beckon with his hand +And cry: 'Come home, O love, from banishment: + Come to the distant land.' + +That night destroyed me like an avalanche; + One night turned all my summer back to snow: +Next morning not a bird upon my branch, + Not a lamb woke below,-- 80 + +No bird, no lamb, no living breathing thing; + No squirrel scampered on my breezy lawn, +No mouse lodged by his hoard: all joys took wing + And fled before that dawn. + +Azure and sun were starved from heaven above, + No dew had fallen, but biting frost lay hoar: +O love, I knew that I should meet my love, + Should find my love no more. + +'My love no more,' I muttered stunned with pain: + I shed no tear, I wrung no passionate hand, 90 +Till something whispered: 'You shall meet again, + Meet in a distant land.' + +Then with a cry like famine I arose, + I lit my candle, searched from room to room, +Searched up and down; a war of winds that froze + Swept through the blank of gloom. + +I searched day after day, night after night; + Scant change there came to me of night or day: +'No more,' I wailed, 'no more:' and trimmed my light, + And gnashed but did not pray, 100 + +Until my heart broke and my spirit broke: + Upon the frost-bound floor I stumbled, fell, +And moaned: 'It is enough: withhold the stroke. + Farewell, O love, farewell.' + +Then life swooned from me. And I heard the song + Of spheres and spirits rejoicing over me: +One cried: 'Our sister, she hath suffered long.'-- + One answered: 'Make her see.'-- + +One cried: 'Oh blessed she who no more pain, + Who no more disappointment shall receive.'-- 110 +One answered: 'Not so: she must live again; + Strengthen thou her to live.' + +So while I lay entranced a curtain seemed + To shrivel with crackling from before my face; +Across mine eyes a waxing radiance beamed + And showed a certain place. + +I saw a vision of a woman, where + Night and new morning strive for domination; +Incomparably pale, and almost fair, + And sad beyond expression. 120 + +Her eyes were like some fire-enshrining gem, + Were stately like the stars, and yet were tender; +Her figure charmed me like a windy stem + Quivering and drooped and slender. + +I stood upon the outer barren ground, + She stood on inner ground that budded flowers; +While circling in their never-slackening round + Danced by the mystic hours. + +But every flower was lifted on a thorn, + And every thorn shot upright from its sands 130 +To gall her feet; hoarse laughter pealed in scorn + With cruel clapping hands. + +She bled and wept, yet did not shrink; her strength + Was strung up until daybreak of delight: +She measured measureless sorrow toward its length, + And breadth, and depth, and height. + +Then marked I how a chain sustained her form, + A chain of living links not made nor riven: +It stretched sheer up through lighting, wind, and storm, + And anchored fast in heaven. 140 + +One cried: 'How long? yet founded on the Rock + She shall do battle, suffer, and attain.'-- +One answered: 'Faith quakes in the tempest shock: + Strengthen her soul again.' + +I saw a cup sent down and come to her + Brimfull of loathing and of bitterness: +She drank with livid lips that seemed to stir + The depth, not make it less. + +But as she drank I spied a hand distil + New wine and virgin honey; making it 150 +First bitter-sweet, then sweet indeed, until + She tasted only sweet. + +Her lips and cheeks waxed rosy-fresh and young; + Drinking she sang: 'My soul shall nothing want;' +And drank anew: while soft a song was sung, + A mystical slow chant. + +One cried: 'The wounds are faithful of a friend: + The wilderness shall blossom as a rose.'-- +One answered: 'Rend the veil, declare the end, + Strengthen her ere she goes.' 160 + +Then earth and heaven were rolled up like a scroll; + Time and space, change and death, had passed away; +Weight, number, measure, each had reached its whole; + The day had come, that day. + +Multitudes--multitudes--stood up in bliss, + Made equal to the angels, glorious, fair; +With harps, palms, wedding-garments, kiss of peace + And crowned and haloed hair. + +They sang a song, a new song in the height, + Harping with harps to Him Who is Strong and True: 170 +They drank new wine, their eyes saw with new light, + Lo, all things were made new. + +Tier beyond tier they rose and rose and rose + So high that it was dreadful, flames with flames: +No man could number them, no tongue disclose + Their secret sacred names. + +As though one pulse stirred all, one rush of blood + Fed all, one breath swept through them myriad-voiced, +They struck their harps, cast down their crowns, they stood + And worshipped and rejoiced. 180 + +Each face looked one way like a moon new-lit, + Each face looked one way towards its Sun of Love; +Drank love and bathed in love and mirrored it + And knew no end thereof. + +Glory touched glory on each blessed head, + Hands locked dear hands never to sunder more: +These were the new-begotten from the dead + Whom the great birthday bore. + +Heart answered heart, soul answered soul at rest, + Double against each other, filled, sufficed: 190 +All loving, loved of all; but loving best + And best beloved of Christ. + +I saw that one who lost her love in pain, + Who trod on thorns, who drank the loathsome cup; +The lost in night, in day was found again; + The fallen was lifted up. + +They stood together in the blessed noon, + They sang together through the length of days; +Each loving face bent Sunwards like a moon + New-lit with love and praise. 200 + +Therefore, O friend, I would not if I might + Rebuild my house of lies, wherein I joyed +One time to dwell: my soul shall walk in white, + Cast down but not destroyed. + +Therefore in patience I possess my soul; + Yea, therefore as a flint I set my face, +To pluck down, to build up again the whole-- + But in a distant place. + +These thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them; + This cup is loathsome, yet He makes it sweet: 210 +My face is steadfast toward Jerusalem, + My heart remembers it. + +I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees-- + I, precious more than seven times molten gold-- +Until the day when from his storehouses + God shall bring new and old; + +Beauty for ashes, oil of joy for grief, + Garment of praise for spirit of heaviness: +Although to-day I fade as doth a leaf, + I languish and grow less. 220 + +Although to-day He prunes my twigs with pain, + Yet doth His blood nourish and warm my root: +To-morrow I shall put forth buds again + And clothe myself with fruit. + +Although to-day I walk in tedious ways, + To-day His staff is turned into a rod, +Yet will I wait for Him the appointed days + And stay upon my God. + + + + +OLD AND NEW YEAR DITTIES + + +1 + +New Year met me somewhat sad: + Old Year leaves me tired, +Stripped of favourite things I had + Baulked of much desired: +Yet farther on my road to-day +God willing, farther on my way. + +New Year coming on apace + What have you to give me? +Bring you scathe, or bring you grace, +Face me with an honest face; 10 + You shall not deceive me: +Be it good or ill, be it what you will, +It needs shall help me on my road, +My rugged way to heaven, please God. + +2 + +Watch with me, men, women, and children dear, +You whom I love, for whom I hope and fear, +Watch with me this last vigil of the year. +Some hug their business, some their pleasure-scheme; +Some seize the vacant hour to sleep or dream; +Heart locked in heart some kneel and watch apart. + +Watch with me blessed spirits, who delight +All through the holy night to walk in white, +Or take your ease after the long-drawn fight. +I know not if they watch with me: I know 10 +They count this eve of resurrection slow, +And cry, 'How long?' with urgent utterance strong. + +Watch with me Jesus, in my loneliness: +Though others say me nay, yet say Thou yes; +Though others pass me by, stop Thou to bless. +Yea, Thou dost stop with me this vigil night; +To-night of pain, to-morrow of delight: +I, Love, am Thine; Thou, Lord my God, art mine. + +3 + +Passing away, saith the World, passing away: +Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day: +Thy life never continueth in one stay. +Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey +That hath won neither laurel nor bay? +I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May: +Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay +On my bosom for aye. +Then I answered: Yea. + +Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away: 10 +With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play; +Hearken what the past doth witness and say: +Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array, +A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay. +At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day +Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay: +Watch thou and pray. +Then I answered: Yea. + +Passing away, saith my God, passing away: +Winter passeth after the long delay: 20 +New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray, +Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May. +Though I tarry wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray: +Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day, +My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say. +Then I answered: Yea. + + + + +AMEN + + +It is over. What is over? + Nay, now much is over truly!-- +Harvest days we toiled to sow for; + Now the sheaves are gathered newly, + Now the wheat is garnered duly. + +It is finished. What is finished? + Much is finished known or unknown: +Lives are finished; time diminished; + Was the fallow field left unsown? + Will these buds be always unblown? 10 + +It suffices. What suffices? + All suffices reckoned rightly: +Spring shall bloom where now the ice is, + Roses make the bramble sightly, + And the quickening sun shine brightly, + And the latter wind blow lightly, +And my garden teem with spices. + + + + +THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS, AND OTHER POEMS, 1866 + + + + +THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS + + +Till all sweet gums and juices flow, +Till the blossom of blossoms blow, +The long hours go and come and go, + The bride she sleepeth, waketh, sleepeth, +Waiting for one whose coming is slow:-- + Hark! the bride weepeth. + +'How long shall I wait, come heat come rime?'-- +'Till the strong Prince comes, who must come in time' +(Her women say), 'there's a mountain to climb, + A river to ford. Sleep, dream and sleep; 10 +Sleep' (they say): 'we've muffled the chime, + Better dream than weep.' + +In his world-end palace the strong Prince sat, +Taking his ease on cushion and mat, +Close at hand lay his staff and his hat. + 'When wilt thou start? the bride waits, O youth.'-- +'Now the moon's at full; I tarried for that, + Now I start in truth. + +'But tell me first, true voice of my doom, +Of my veiled bride in her maiden bloom; 20 +Keeps she watch through glare and through gloom, + Watch for me asleep and awake?'-- +'Spell-bound she watches in one white room, + And is patient for thy sake. + +'By her head lilies and rosebuds grow; +The lilies droop, will the rosebuds blow? +The silver slim lilies hang the head low; + Their stream is scanty, their sunshine rare: +Let the sun blaze out, and let the stream flow, + They will blossom and wax fair. 30 + +'Red and white poppies grow at her feet, +The blood-red wait for sweet summer heat, +Wrapped in bud-coats hairy and neat; + But the white buds swell, one day they will burst, +Will open their death-cups drowsy and sweet-- + Which will open the first?' + +Then a hundred sad voices lifted a wail, +And a hundred glad voices piped on the gale: +'Time is short, life is short,' they took up the tale: + 'Life is sweet, love is sweet, use to-day while you may; 40 +Love is sweet, and to-morrow may fail; + Love is sweet, use to-day.' + +While the song swept by, beseeching and meek, +Up rose the Prince with a flush on his cheek, +Up he rose to stir and to seek, + Going forth in the joy of his strength; +Strong of limb if of purpose weak, + Starting at length. + +Forth he set in the breezy morn, +Crossing green fields of nodding corn, 50 +As goodly a Prince as ever was born; + Carolling with the carolling lark;-- +Sure his bride will be won and worn, + Ere fall of the dark. + +So light his step, so merry his smile, +A milkmaid loitered beside a stile, +Set down her pail and rested awhile, + A wave-haired milkmaid, rosy and white; +The Prince, who had journeyed at least a mile, + Grew athirst at the sight. 60 + +'Will you give me a morning draught?'-- +'You're kindly welcome,' she said, and laughed. +He lifted the pail, new milk he quaffed; + Then wiping his curly black beard like silk: +'Whitest cow that ever was calved + Surely gave you this milk.' + +Was it milk now, or was it cream? +Was she a maid, or an evil dream? +Here eyes began to glitter and gleam; + He would have gone, but he stayed instead; 70 +Green they gleamed as he looked in them: + 'Give me my fee,' she said.-- + +'I will give you a jewel of gold.'-- +'Not so; gold is heavy and cold.'-- +'I will give you a velvet fold + Of foreign work your beauty to deck.'-- +'Better I like my kerchief rolled + Light and white round my neck.'-- + +'Nay,' cried he, 'but fix your own fee.'-- +She laughed, 'You may give the full moon to me; 80 +Or else sit under this apple-tree + Here for one idle day by my side; +After that I'll let you go free, + And the world is wide.' + +Loth to stay, but to leave her slack, +He half turned away, then he quite turned back: +For courtesy's sake he could not lack + To redeem his own royal pledge; +Ahead too the windy heaven lowered black + With a fire-cloven edge. 90 + +So he stretched his length in the apple-tree shade, +Lay and laughed and talked to the maid, +Who twisted her hair in a cunning braid + And writhed it shining in serpent-coils, +And held him a day and night fast laid + In her subtle toils. + +At the death of night and the birth of day, +When the owl left off his sober play, +And the bat hung himself out of the way, + Woke the song of mavis and merle, 100 +And heaven put off its hodden grey + For mother-o'-pearl. + +Peeped up daisies here and there, +Here, there, and everywhere; +Rose a hopeful lark in the air, + Spreading out towards the sun his breast; +While the moon set solemn and fair + Away in the West. + +'Up, up, up,' called the watchman lark, +In his clear reveillee: 'Hearken, oh hark! 110 +Press to the high goal, fly to the mark. + Up, O sluggard, new morn is born; +If still asleep when the night falls dark, + Thou must wait a second morn.' + +'Up, up, up,' sad glad voices swelled: +'So the tree falls and lies as it's felled. +Be thy bands loosed, O sleeper, long held + In sweet sleep whose end is not sweet. +Be the slackness girt and the softness quelled + And the slowness fleet.' 120 + +Off he set. The grass grew rare, +A blight lurked in the darkening air, +The very moss grew hueless and spare, + The last daisy stood all astunt; +Behind his back the soil lay bare, + But barer in front. + +A land of chasm and rent, a land +Of rugged blackness on either hand: +If water trickled its track was tanned + With an edge of rust to the chink; 130 +If one stamped on stone or on sand + It returned a clink. + +A lifeless land, a loveless land, +Without lair or nest on either hand: +Only scorpions jerked in the sand, + Black as black iron, or dusty pale; +From point to point sheer rock was manned + By scorpions in mail. + +A land of neither life nor death, +Where no man buildeth or fashioneth, 140 +Where none draws living or dying breath; + No man cometh or goeth there, +No man doeth, seeketh, saith, + In the stagnant air. + +Some old volcanic upset must +Have rent the crust and blackened the crust; +Wrenched and ribbed it beneath its dust + Above earth's molten centre at seethe, +Heaved and heaped it by huge upthrust + Of fire beneath. 150 + +Untrodden before, untrodden since: +Tedious land for a social Prince; +Halting, he scanned the outs and ins, + Endless, labyrinthine, grim, +Of the solitude that made him wince, + Laying wait for him. + +By bulging rock and gaping cleft, +Even of half mere daylight reft, +Rueful he peered to right and left, + Muttering in his altered mood: 160 +'The fate is hard that weaves my weft, + Though my lot be good.' + +Dim the changes of day to night, +Of night scarce dark to day not bright. +Still his road wound towards the right, + Still he went, and still he went, +Till one night he espied a light, + In his discontent. + +Out it flashed from a yawn-mouthed cave, +Like a red-hot eye from a grave. 170 +No man stood there of whom to crave + Rest for wayfarer plodding by: +Though the tenant were churl or knave + The Prince might try. + +In he passed and tarried not, +Groping his way from spot to spot, +Towards where the cavern flare glowed hot:-- + An old, old mortal, cramped and double, +Was peering into a seething-pot, + In a world of trouble. 180 + +The veriest atomy he looked, +With grimy fingers clutching and crooked, +Tight skin, a nose all bony and hooked, + And a shaking, sharp, suspicious way; +His blinking eyes had scarcely brooked + The light of day. + +Stared the Prince, for the sight was new; +Stared, but asked without more ado: +'My a weary traveller lodge with you, + Old father, here in your lair? 190 +In your country the inns seem few, + And scanty the fare.' + +The head turned not to hear him speak; +The old voice whistled as through a leak +(Out it came in a quavering squeak): + 'Work for wage is a bargain fit: +If there's aught of mine that you seek + You must work for it. + +'Buried alive from light and air +This year is the hundredth year, 200 +I feed my fire with a sleepless care, + Watching my potion wane or wax: +Elixir of Life is simmering there, + And but one thing lacks. + +'If you're fain to lodge here with me, +Take that pair of bellows you see-- +Too heavy for my old hands they be-- + Take the bellows and puff and puff: +When the steam curls rosy and free + The broth's boiled enough. 210 + +'Then take your choice of all I have; +I will give you life if you crave. +Already I'm mildewed for the grave, + So first myself I must drink my fill: +But all the rest may be yours, to save + Whomever you will.' + +'Done,' quoth the Prince, and the bargain stood, +First he piled on resinous wood, +Next plied the bellows in hopeful mood; + Thinking, 'My love and I will live. 220 +If I tarry, why life is good, + And she may forgive.' + +The pot began to bubble and boil; +The old man cast in essence and oil, +He stirred all up with a triple coil + Of gold and silver and iron wire, +Dredged in a pinch of virgin soil, + And fed the fire. + +But still the steam curled watery white; +Night turned to day and day to night; 230 +One thing lacked, by his feeble sight + Unseen, unguessed by his feeble mind: +Life might miss him, but Death the blight + Was sure to find. + +So when the hundredth year was full +The thread was cut and finished the school. +Death snapped the old worn-out tool, + Snapped him short while he stood and stirred +(Though stiff he stood as a stiff-necked mule) + With never a word. 240 + +Thus at length the old crab was nipped. +The dead hand slipped, the dead finger dipped +In the broth as the dead man slipped,-- + That same instant, a rosy red +Flushed the steam, and quivered and clipped + Round the dead old head. + +The last ingredient was supplied +(Unless the dead man mistook or lied). +Up started the Prince, he cast aside + The bellows plied through the tedious trial, 250 +Made sure that his host had died, + And filled a phial. + +'One night's rest,' though the Prince: 'This done, +Forth I start with the rising sun: +With the morrow I rise and run, + Come what will of wind or of weather. +This draught of Life when my Bride is won + We'll drink together.' + +Thus the dead man stayed in his grave, +Self-chosen, the dead man in his cave; 260 +There he stayed, were he fool or knave, + Or honest seeker who had not found: +While the Prince outside was prompt to crave + Sleep on the ground. + +'If she watches, go bid her sleep; +Bit her sleep, for the road is steep: +He can sleep who holdeth her cheap, + Sleep and wake and sleep again. +Let him sow, one day he shall reap, + Let him sow the grain. 270 + +'When there blows a sweet garden rose, +Let it bloom and wither if no man knows: +But if one knows when the sweet thing blows, + Knows, and lets it open and drop, +If but a nettle his garden grows + He hath earned the crop.' + +Through his sleep the summons rang, +Into his ears it sobbed and it sang. +Slow he woke with a drowsy pang, + Shook himself without much debate, 280 +Turned where he saw green branches hang, + Started though late. + +For the black land was travelled o'er, +He should see the grim land no more. +A flowering country stretched before + His face when the lovely day came back: +He hugged the phial of Life he bore, + And resumed his track. + +By willow courses he took his path, +Spied what a nest the kingfisher hath, 290 +Marked the fields green to aftermath, + Marked where the red-brown field-mouse ran, +Loitered a while for a deep-stream bath, + Yawned for a fellow-man. + +Up on the hills not a soul in view, +In a vale not many nor few; +Leaves, still leaves, and nothing new. + It's oh for a second maiden, at least, +To bear the flagon, and taste it too, + And flavour the feast. 300 + +Lagging he moved, and apt to swerve; +Lazy of limb, but quick of nerve. +At length the water-bed took a curve, + The deep river swept its bankside bare; +Waters streamed from the hill-reserve-- + Waters here, waters there. + +High above, and deep below, +Bursting, bubbling, swelling the flow, +Like hill torrents after the snow,-- + Bubbling, gurgling, in whirling strife, 310 +Swaying, sweeping, to and fro,-- + He must swim for his life. + +Which way?--which way?--his eyes grew dim +With the dizzying whirl--which way to swim? +The thunderous downshoot deafened him; + Half he choked in the lashing spray: +Life is sweet, and the grave is grim-- + Which way?--which way? + +A flash of light, a shout from the strand: +'This way--this way; here lies the land!' 320 +His phial clutched in one drowning hand; + He catches--misses--catches a rope; +His feet slip on the slipping sand: + Is there life?--is there hope? + +Just saved, without pulse or breath,-- +Scarcely saved from the gulp of death; +Laid where a willow shadoweth-- + Laid where a swelling turf is smooth. +(O Bride! but the Bridegroom lingereth + For all thy sweet youth.) 330 + +Kind hands do and undo, +Kind voices whisper and coo: +'I will chafe his hands'--'And I'--'And you + Raise his head, put his hair aside.' +(If many laugh, one well may rue: + Sleep on, thou Bride.) + +So the Prince was tended with care: +One wrung foul ooze from his clustered hair; +Two chafed his hands, and did not spare; + But one held his drooping head breast-high, 340 +Till his eyes oped, and at unaware + They met eye to eye. + +Oh, a moon face in a shadowy place, +And a light touch and a winsome grace, +And a thrilling tender voice that says: + 'Safe from waters that seek the sea-- +Cold waters by rugged ways-- + Safe with me.' + +While overhead bird whistles to bird, +And round about plays a gamesome herd: 350 +'Safe with us'--some take up the word-- + 'Safe with us, dear lord and friend: +All the sweeter if long deferred + Is rest in the end.' + +Had he stayed to weigh and to scan, +He had been more or less than a man: +He did what a young man can, + Spoke of toil and an arduous way-- +Toil to-morrow, while golden ran + The sands of to-day. 360 + +Slip past, slip fast, +Uncounted hours from first to last, +Many hours till the last is past, + Many hours dwindling to one-- +One hour whose die is cast, + One last hour gone. + +Come, gone--gone for ever-- +Gone as an unreturning river-- +Gone as to death the merriest liver-- + Gone as the year at the dying fall-- 370 +To-morrow, to-day, yesterday, never-- + Gone once for all. + +Came at length the starting-day, +With last words, and last words to say, +With bodiless cries from far away-- + Chiding wailing voices that rang +Like a trumpet-call to the tug and fray; + And thus they sang: + +'Is there life?--the lamp burns low; +Is there hope?--the coming is slow: 380 +The promise promised so long ago, + The long promise, has not been kept. +Does she live?--does she die?--she slumbers so + Who so oft has wept. + +'Does she live?--does she die?--she languisheth +As a lily drooping to death, +As a drought-worn bird with failing breath, + As a lovely vine without a stay, +As a tree whereof the owner saith, + "Hew it down to-day."' 390 + +Stung by that word the Prince was fain +To start on his tedious road again. +He crossed the stream where a ford was plain, + He clomb the opposite bank though steep, +And swore to himself to strain and attain + Ere he tasted sleep. + +Huge before him a mountain frowned +With foot of rock on the valley ground, +And head with snows incessant crowned, + And a cloud mantle about its strength, 400 +And a path which the wild goat hath not found + In its breadth and length. + +But he was strong to do and dare: +If a host had withstood him there, +He had braved a host with little care + In his lusty youth and his pride, +Tough to grapple though weak to snare. + He comes, O Bride. + +Up he went where the goat scarce clings, +Up where the eagle folds her wings, 410 +Past the green line of living things, + Where the sun cannot warm the cold,-- +Up he went as a flame enrings + Where there seems no hold. + +Up a fissure barren and black, +Till the eagles tired upon his track, +And the clouds were left behind his back, + Up till the utmost peak was past, +Then he gasped for breath and his strength fell slack; + He paused at last. 420 + +Before his face a valley spread +Where fatness laughed, wine, oil, and bread, +Where all fruit-trees their sweetness shed, + Where all birds made love to their kind, +Where jewels twinkled, and gold lay red + And not hard to find. + +Midway down the mountain side +(On its green slope the path was wide) +Stood a house for a royal bride, + Built all of changing opal stone, 430 +The royal palace, till now descried + In his dreams alone. + +Less bold than in days of yore, +Doubting now though never before, +Doubting he goes and lags the more: + Is the time late? does the day grow dim? +Rose, will she open the crimson core + Of her heart to him? + +Take heart of grace! the potion of Life +May go far to woo him a wife: 440 +If she frown, yet a lover's strife + Lightly raised can be laid again: +A hasty word is never the knife + To cut love in twain. + +Far away stretched the royal land, +Fed by dew, by a spice-wind fanned: +Light labour more, and his foot would stand + On the threshold, all labour done; +Easy pleasure laid at his hand, + And the dear Bride won. 450 + +His slackening steps pause at the gate-- +Does she wake or sleep?--the time is late-- +Does she sleep now, or watch and wait? + She has watched, she has waited long, +Watching athwart the golden grate + With a patient song. + +Fling the golden portals wide, +The Bridegroom comes to his promised Bride; +Draw the gold-stiff curtains aside, + Let them look on each other's face, 460 +She in her meekness, he in his pride-- + Day wears apace. + +Day is over, the day that wore. +What is this that comes through the door, +The face covered, the feet before? + This that coming takes his breath; +The Bride not seen, to be seen no more + Save of Bridegroom Death? + +Veiled figures carrying her +Sweep by yet make no stir; 470 +There is a smell of spice and myrrh, + A bride-chant burdened with one name; +The bride-song rises steadier + Than the torches' flame: + +'Too late for love, too late for joy, + Too late, too late! +You loitered on the road too long, + You trifled at the gate: +The enchanted dove upon her branch + Died without a mate; 480 +The enchanted princess in her tower + Slept, died, behind the grate; +Her heart was starving all this while + You made it wait. + +'Ten years ago, five years ago, + One year ago, +Even then you had arrived in time, + Though somewhat slow; +Then you had known her living face + Which now you cannot know: 490 +The frozen fountain would have leaped, + The buds gone on to blow, +The warm south wind would have awaked + To melt the snow. + +'Is she fair now as she lies? + Once she was fair; +Meet queen for any kingly king, + With gold-dust on her hair. +Now these are poppies in her locks, + White poppies she must wear; 500 +Must wear a veil to shroud her face + And the want graven there: +Or is the hunger fed at length, + Cast off the care? + +'We never saw her with a smile + Or with a frown; +Her bed seemed never soft to her, + Though tossed of down; +She little heeded what she wore, + Kirtle, or wreath, or gown; 510 +We think her white brows often ached + Beneath her crown, +Till silvery hairs showed in her locks + That used to be so brown. + +'We never heard her speak in haste; + Her tones were sweet, +And modulated just so much + As it was meet: +Her heart sat silent through the noise + And concourse of the street. 520 +There was no hurry in her hands, + No hurry in her feet; +There was no bliss drew nigh to her, + That she might run to greet. + +'You should have wept her yesterday, + Wasting upon her bed: +But wherefore should you weep to-day + That she is dead? +Lo, we who love weep not to-day, + But crown her royal head. 530 +Let be these poppies that we strew, + Your roses are too red: +Let be these poppies, not for you + Cut down and spread.' + + + + +MAIDEN-SONG + + +Long ago and long ago, + And long ago still, +There dwelt three merry maidens + Upon a distant hill. +One was tall Meggan, + And one was dainty May, +But one was fair Margaret, + More fair than I can say, +Long ago and long ago. + +When Meggan plucked the thorny rose, 10 + And when May pulled the brier, +Half the birds would swoop to see, + Half the beasts draw nigher; +Half the fishes of the streams + Would dart up to admire: +But when Margaret plucked a flag-flower, + Or poppy hot aflame, +All the beasts and all the birds + And all the fishes came +To her hand more soft than snow. 20 + +Strawberry leaves and May-dew + In brisk morning air, +Strawberry leaves and May-dew + Make maidens fair. +'I go for strawberry leaves,' + Meggan said one day: +'Fair Margaret can bide at home, + But you come with me, May; +Up the hill and down the hill, + Along the winding way 30 +You and I are used to go.' + +So these two fair sisters + Went with innocent will +Up the hill and down again, + And round the homestead hill: +While the fairest sat at home, + Margaret like a queen, +Like a blush-rose, like the moon + In her heavenly sheen, +Fragrant-breathed as milky cow 40 + Or field of blossoming bean, +Graceful as an ivy bough + Born to cling and lean; +Thus she sat to sing and sew. + +When she raised her lustrous eyes + A beast peeped at the door; +When she downward cast her eyes + A fish gasped on the floor; +When she turned away her eyes + A bird perched on the sill, 50 +Warbling out its heart of love, + Warbling warbling still, +With pathetic pleadings low. + +Light-foot May with Meggan + Sought the choicest spot, +Clothed with thyme-alternate grass: + Then, while day waxed hot, +Sat at ease to play and rest, + A gracious rest and play; +The loveliest maidens near or far, 60 + When Margaret was away, +Who sat at home to sing and sew. + +Sun-glow flushed their comely cheeks, + Wind-play tossed their hair, +Creeping things among the grass + Stroked them here and there; +Meggan piped a merry note, + A fitful wayward lay, +While shrill as bird on topmost twig + Piped merry May; 70 +Honey-smooth the double flow. + +Sped a herdsman from the vale, + Mounting like a flame, +All on fire to hear and see, + With floating locks he came. +Looked neither north nor south, + Neither east nor west, +But sat him down at Meggan's feet + As love-bird on his nest, +And wooed her with a silent awe, 80 + With trouble not expressed; +She sang the tears into his eyes, + The heart out of his breast: +So he loved her, listening so. + +She sang the heart out of his breast, + The words out of his tongue; +Hand and foot and pulse he paused + Till her song was sung. +Then he spoke up from his place + Simple words and true: 90 +'Scanty goods have I to give, + Scanty skill to woo; +But I have a will to work, + And a heart for you: +Bid me stay or bid me go.' + +Then Meggan mused within herself: + 'Better be first with him, +Than dwell where fairer Margaret sits, + Who shines my brightness dim, +For ever second where she sits, 100 + However fair I be: +I will be lady of his love, + And he shall worship me; +I will be lady of his herds + And stoop to his degree, +At home where kids and fatlings grow.' + +Sped a shepherd from the height + Headlong down to look, +(White lambs followed, lured by love + Of their shepherd's crook): 110 +He turned neither east nor west, + Neither north nor south, +But knelt right down to May, for love + Of her sweet-singing mouth; +Forgot his flocks, his panting flocks + In parching hill-side drouth; +Forgot himself for weal or woe. + +Trilled her song and swelled her song + With maiden coy caprice +In a labyrinth of throbs, 120 + Pauses, cadences; +Clear-noted as a dropping brook, + Soft-noted like the bees, +Wild-noted as the shivering wind + Forlorn through forest trees: +Love-noted like the wood-pigeon + Who hides herself for love, +Yet cannot keep her secret safe, + But coos and coos thereof: +Thus the notes rang loud or low. 130 + +He hung breathless on her breath; + Speechless, who listened well; +Could not speak or think or wish + Till silence broke the spell. +Then he spoke, and spread his hands, + Pointing here and there: +'See my sheep and see the lambs, + Twin lambs which they bare. +All myself I offer you, + All my flocks and care, 140 +Your sweet song hath moved me so.' + +In her fluttered heart young May + Mused a dubious while: +'If he loves me as he says'-- + Her lips curved with a smile: +'Where Margaret shines like the sun + I shine but like a moon; +If sister Meggan makes her choice + I can make mine as soon; +At cockcrow we were sister-maids, 150 + We may be brides at noon.' +Said Meggan, 'Yes;' May said not 'No.' + +Fair Margaret stayed alone at home, + Awhile she sang her song, +Awhile sat silent, then she thought: + 'My sisters loiter long.' +That sultry noon had waned away, + Shadows had waxen great: +'Surely,' she thought within herself, + 'My sisters loiter late.' 160 +She rose, and peered out at the door, + With patient heart to wait, +And heard a distant nightingale + Complaining of its mate; +Then down the garden slope she walked, + Down to the garden gate, +Leaned on the rail and waited so. + +The slope was lightened by her eyes + Like summer lightning fair, +Like rising of the haloed moon 170 + Lightened her glimmering hair, +While her face lightened like the sun + Whose dawn is rosy white. +Thus crowned with maiden majesty + She peered into the night, +Looked up the hill and down the hill, + To left hand and to right, +Flashing like fire-flies to and fro. + +Waiting thus in weariness + She marked the nightingale 180 +Telling, if any one would heed, + Its old complaining tale. +Then lifted she her voice and sang, + Answering the bird: +Then lifted she her voice and sang, + Such notes were never heard +From any bird when Spring's in blow. + +The king of all that country + Coursing far, coursing near, +Curbed his amber-bitted steed, 190 + Coursed amain to hear; +All his princes in his train, + Squire, and knight, and peer, +With his crown upon his head, + His sceptre in his hand, +Down he fell at Margaret's knees + Lord king of all that land, +To her highness bending low. + +Every beast and bird and fish + Came mustering to the sound, 200 +Every man and every maid + From miles of country round: +Meggan on her herdsman's arm, + With her shepherd May, +Flocks and herds trooped at their heels + Along the hill-side way; +No foot too feeble for the ascent, + Not any head too grey; +Some were swift and none were slow. + +So Margaret sang her sisters home 210 + In their marriage mirth; +Sang free birds out of the sky, + Beasts along the earth, +Sang up fishes of the deep-- + All breathing things that move +Sang from far and sang from near + To her lovely love; +Sang together friend and foe; + +Sang a golden-bearded king + Straightway to her feet, 220 +Sang him silent where he knelt + In eager anguish sweet. +But when the clear voice died away, + When longest echoes died, +He stood up like a royal man + And claimed her for his bride. +So three maids were wooed and won + In a brief May-tide, +Long ago and long ago. + + + + +JESSIE CAMERON + + +'Jessie, Jessie Cameron, + Hear me but this once,' quoth he. +'Good luck go with you, neighbor's son, + But I'm no mate for you,' quoth she. +Day was verging toward the night + There beside the moaning sea, +Dimness overtook the light + There where the breakers be. +'O Jessie, Jessie Cameron, + I have loved you long and true.'-- 10 +'Good luck go with you, neighbor's son, + But I'm no mate for you.' + +She was a careless, fearless girl, + And made her answer plain, +Outspoken she to earl or churl, + Kindhearted in the main, +But somewhat heedless with her tongue, + And apt at causing pain; +A mirthful maiden she and young, + Most fair for bliss or bane. 20 +'Oh, long ago I told you so, + I tell you so to-day: +Go you your way, and let me go + Just my own free way.' + +The sea swept in with moan and foam, + Quickening the stretch of sand; +They stood almost in sight of home; + He strove to take her hand. +'Oh, can't you take your answer then, + And won't you understand? 30 +For me you're not the man of men, + I've other plans are planned. +You're good for Madge, or good for Cis, + Or good for Kate, may be: +But what's to me the good of this + While you're not good for me?' + +They stood together on the beach, + They two alone, +And louder waxed his urgent speech, + His patience almost gone: 40 +'Oh, say but one kind word to me, + Jessie, Jessie Cameron.'-- +'I'd be too proud to beg,' quoth she, + And pride was in her tone. +And pride was in her lifted head, + And in her angry eye +And in her foot, which might have fled, + But would not fly. + +Some say that he had gipsy blood; + That in his heart was guile: 50 +Yet he had gone through fire and flood + Only to win her smile. +Some say his grandam was a witch, + A black witch from beyond the Nile, +Who kept an image in a niche + And talked with it the while. +And by her hut far down the lane + Some say they would not pass at night, +Lest they should hear an unked strain + Or see an unked sight. 60 + +Alas, for Jessie Cameron!-- + The sea crept moaning, moaning nigher: +She should have hastened to begone,-- + The sea swept higher, breaking by her: +She should have hastened to her home + While yet the west was flushed with fire, +But now her feet are in the foam, + The sea-foam, sweeping higher. +O mother, linger at your door, + And light your lamp to make it plain, 70 +But Jessie she comes home no more, + No more again. + +They stood together on the strand, + They only, each by each; +Home, her home, was close at hand, + Utterly out of reach. +Her mother in the chimney nook + Heard a startled sea-gull screech, +But never turned her head to look + Towards the darkening beach: 80 +Neighbours here and neighbours there + Heard one scream, as if a bird +Shrilly screaming cleft the air:-- + That was all they heard. + +Jessie she comes home no more, + Comes home never; +Her lover's step sounds at his door + No more forever. +And boats may search upon the sea + And search along the river, 90 +But none know where the bodies be: + Sea-winds that shiver, +Sea-birds that breast the blast, + Sea-waves swelling, +Keep the secret first and last + Of their dwelling. + +Whether the tide so hemmed them round + With its pitiless flow, +That when they would have gone they found + No way to go; 100 +Whether she scorned him to the last + With words flung to and fro, +Or clung to him when hope was past, + None will ever know: +Whether he helped or hindered her, + Threw up his life or lost it well, +The troubled sea, for all its stir + Finds no voice to tell. + +Only watchers by the dying + Have thought they heard one pray 110 +Wordless, urgent; and replying + One seem to say him nay: +And watchers by the dead have heard + A windy swell from miles away, +With sobs and screams, but not a word + Distinct for them to say: +And watchers out at sea have caught + Glimpse of a pale gleam here or there, +Come and gone as quick as thought, + Which might be hand or hair. 120 + + + + +SPRING QUIET + + +Gone were but the Winter, + Come were but the Spring, +I would go to a covert + Where the birds sing; + +Where in the whitethorn + Singeth a thrush, +And a robin sings + In the holly-bush. + +Full of fresh scents + Are the budding boughs 10 +Arching high over + A cool green house: + +Full of sweet scents, + And whispering air +Which sayeth softly: + 'We spread no snare; + +'Here dwell in safety, + Here dwell alone, +With a clear stream + And a mossy stone. 20 + +'Here the sun shineth + Most shadily; +Here is heard an echo + Of the far sea, + Though far off it be.' + + + + +THE POOR GHOST + + +'Oh whence do you come, my dear friend, to me, +With your golden hair all fallen below your knee, +And your face as white as snowdrops on the lea, +And your voice as hollow as the hollow sea?' + +'From the other world I come back to you, +My locks are uncurled with dripping drenching dew. +You know the old, whilst I know the new: +But to-morrow you shall know this too.' + +'Oh not to-morrow into the dark, I pray; +Oh not to-morrow, too soon to go away: 10 +Here I feel warm and well-content and gay: +Give me another year, another day.' + +'Am I so changed in a day and a night +That mine own only love shrinks from me with fright, +Is fain to turn away to left or right +And cover up his eyes from the sight?' + +'Indeed I loved you, my chosen friend, +I loved you for life, but life has an end; +Through sickness I was ready to tend: +But death mars all, which we cannot mend. 20 + +'Indeed I loved you; I love you yet, +If you will stay where your bed is set, +Where I have planted a violet, +Which the wind waves, which the dew makes wet.' + +'Life is gone, then love too is gone, +It was a reed that I leant upon: +Never doubt I will leave you alone +And not wake you rattling bone with bone. + +'I go home alone to my bed, +Dug deep at the foot and deep at the head, 30 +Roofed in with a load of lead, +Warm enough for the forgotten dead. + +'But why did your tears soak through the clay, +And why did your sobs wake me where I lay? +I was away, far enough away: +Let me sleep now till the Judgment Day.' + + + + +A PORTRAIT + + +I + +She gave up beauty in her tender youth, + Gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways; + She covered up her eyes lest they should gaze +On vanity, and chose the bitter truth. +Harsh towards herself, towards others full of ruth, + Servant of servants, little known to praise, + Long prayers and fasts trenched on her nights and days: +She schooled herself to sights and sounds uncouth +That with the poor and stricken she might make + A home, until the least of all sufficed 10 +Her wants; her own self learned she to forsake, +Counting all earthly gain but hurt and loss. +So with calm will she chose and bore the cross + And hated all for love of Jesus Christ. + +II + +They knelt in silent anguish by her bed, + And could not weep; but calmly there she lay. + All pain had left her; and the sun's last ray +Shone through upon her, warming into red +The shady curtains. In her heart she said: + 'Heaven opens; I leave these and go away; 20 + The Bridegroom calls,--shall the Bride seek to stay?' +Then low upon her breast she bowed her head. +O lily flower, O gem of priceless worth, + O dove with patient voice and patient eyes, +O fruitful vine amid a land of dearth, + O maid replete with loving purities, +Thou bowedst down thy head with friends on earth + To raise it with the saints in Paradise. + + + + +DREAM-LOVE + + +Young Love lies sleeping + In May-time of the year, +Among the lilies, + Lapped in the tender light: +White lambs come grazing, + White doves come building there: +And round about him + The May-bushes are white. + +Soft moss the pillow + For oh, a softer cheek; 10 +Broad leaves cast shadow + Upon the heavy eyes: +There winds and waters + Grow lulled and scarcely speak; +There twilight lingers + The longest in the skies. + +Young Love lies dreaming; + But who shall tell the dream? +A perfect sunlight + On rustling forest tips; 20 +Or perfect moonlight + Upon a rippling stream; +Or perfect silence, + Or song of cherished lips. + +Burn odours round him + To fill the drowsy air; +Weave silent dances + Around him to and fro; +For oh, in waking + The sights are not so fair, 30 +And song and silence + Are not like these below. + +Young Love lies dreaming + Till summer days are gone,-- +Dreaming and drowsing + Away to perfect sleep: +He sees the beauty + Sun hath not looked upon, +And tastes the fountain + Unutterably deep. 40 + +Him perfect music + Doth hush unto his rest, +And through the pauses + The perfect silence calms: +Oh, poor the voices + Of earth from east to west, +And poor earth's stillness + Between her stately palms. + +Young Love lies drowsing + Away to poppied death; 50 +Cool shadows deepen + Across the sleeping face: +So fails the summer + With warm, delicious breath; +And what hath autumn + To give us in its place? + +Draw close the curtains + Of branched evergreen; +Change cannot touch them + With fading fingers sere: 60 +Here the first violets + Perhaps will bud unseen, +And a dove, may be, + Return to nestle here. + + + + +TWICE + + +I took my heart in my hand + (O my love, O my love), +I said: Let me fall or stand, + Let me live or die, +But this once hear me speak-- + (O my love, O my love)-- +Yet a woman's words are weak; + You should speak, not I. + +You took my heart in your hand + With a friendly smile, 10 +With a critical eye you scanned, + Then set it down, +And said: It is still unripe, + Better wait awhile; +Wait while the skylarks pipe, + Till the corn grows brown. + +As you set it down it broke-- + Broke, but I did not wince; +I smiled at the speech you spoke, + At your judgement that I heard: 20 +But I have not often smiled + Since then, nor questioned since, +Nor cared for corn-flowers wild, + Nor sung with the singing bird. + +I take my heart in my hand, + O my God, O my God, +My broken heart in my hand: + Thou hast seen, judge Thou. +My hope was written on sand, + O my God, O my God: 30 +Now let thy judgement stand-- + Yea, judge me now. + +This contemned of a man, + This marred one heedless day, +This heart take Thou to scan + Both within and without: +Refine with fire its gold, + Purge thou its dross away-- +Yea, hold it in Thy hold, + Whence none can pluck it out. 40 + +I take my heart in my hand-- + I shall not die, but live-- +Before Thy face I stand; + I, for Thou callest such: +All that I have I bring, + All that I am I give, +Smile Thou and I shall sing, + But shall not question much. + + + + +SONGS IN A CORNFIELD + + +A song in a cornfield + Where corn begins to fall, +Where reapers are reaping, + Reaping one, reaping all. +Sing pretty Lettice, + Sing Rachel, sing May; +Only Marian cannot sing + While her sweetheart's away. + +Where is he gone to + And why does he stay? 10 +He came across the green sea + But for a day, +Across the deep green sea + To help with the hay. + +His hair was curly yellow + And his eyes were grey, +He laughed a merry laugh + And said a sweet say. +Where is he gone to + That he comes not home? 20 +To-day or to-morrow + He surely will come. +Let him haste to joy + Lest he lag for sorrow, +For one weeps to-day + Who'll not weep to-morrow: +To-day she must weep + For gnawing sorrow, +To-night she may sleep + And not wake to-morrow. 30 + +May sang with Rachel + In the waxing warm weather, +Lettice sang with them, + They sang all together:-- + + 'Take the wheat in your arm + Whilst day is broad above, + Take the wheat to your bosom, + But not a false love. + Out in the fields + Summer heat gloweth, 40 + Out in the fields + Summer wind bloweth, + Out in the fields + Summer friend showeth, + Out in the fields + Summer wheat groweth; + But in the winter + When summer heat is dead + And summer wind has veered + And summer friend has fled, 50 + Only summer wheat remaineth, + White cakes and bread. + Take the wheat, clasp the wheat + That's food for maid and dove; + Take the wheat to your bosom, + But not a false false love.' + +A silence of full noontide heat + Grew on them at their toil: +The farmer's dog woke up from sleep, + The green snake hid her coil. 60 +Where grass stood thickest, bird and beast + Sought shadows as they could, +The reaping men and women paused + And sat down where they stood; +They ate and drank and were refreshed, + For rest from toil is good. + +While the reapers took their ease, + Their sickles lying by, +Rachel sang a second strain, + And singing seemed to sigh:-- 70 + + 'There goes the swallow-- + Could we but follow! + Hasty swallow stay, + Point us out the way; +Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow. + + 'There went the swallow-- + Too late to follow: + Lost our note of way, + Lost our chance to-day; +Good bye swallow, sunny swallow, wise swallow. 80 + + 'After the swallow + All sweet things follow: + All things go their way, + Only we must stay, +Must not follow; good bye swallow, good swallow.' + +Then listless Marian raised her head + Among the nodding sheaves; +Her voice was sweeter than that voice; + She sang like one who grieves: +Her voice was sweeter than its wont 90 + Among the nodding sheaves; +All wondered while they heard her sing + Like one who hopes and grieves:-- + + 'Deeper than the hail can smite, + Deeper than the frost can bite, + Deep asleep through day and night, + Our delight. + + 'Now thy sleep no pang can break, + No to-morrow bid thee wake, + Not our sobs who sit and ache 100 + For thy sake. + + 'Is it dark or light below? + Oh, but is it cold like snow? + Dost thou feel the green things grow + Fast or slow? + + 'Is it warm or cold beneath, + Oh, but is it cold like death? + Cold like death, without a breath, + Cold like death?' + +If he comes to-day 110 + He will find her weeping; +If he comes to-morrow + He will find her sleeping; +If he comes the next day + He'll not find her at all, +He may tear his curling hair, + Beat his breast and call. + + + + +A YEAR'S WINDFALLS + + +On the wind of January + Down flits the snow, +Travelling from the frozen North + As cold as it can blow. +Poor robin redbreast, + Look where he comes; +Let him in to feel your fire, + And toss him of your crumbs. + +On the wind in February + Snowflakes float still, 10 +Half inclined to turn to rain, + Nipping, dripping, chill. +Then the thaws swell the streams, + And swollen rivers swell the sea:-- +If the winter ever ends + How pleasant it will be! + +In the wind of windy March + The catkins drop down, +Curly, caterpillar-like, + Curious green and brown. 20 +With concourse of nest-building birds + And leaf-buds by the way, +We begin to think of flowers + And life and nuts some day. + +With the gusts of April + Rich fruit-tree blossoms fall, +On the hedged-in orchard-green, + From the southern wall. +Apple-trees and pear-trees + Shed petals white or pink, 30 +Plum-trees and peach-trees; + While sharp showers sink and sink. + +Little brings the May breeze + Beside pure scent of flowers, +While all things wax and nothing wanes + In lengthening daylight hours. +Across the hyacinth beds + The wind lags warm and sweet, +Across the hawthorn tops, + Across the blades of wheat. 40 + +In the wind of sunny June + Thrives the red rose crop, +Every day fresh blossoms blow + While the first leaves drop; +White rose and yellow rose + And moss-rose choice to find, +And the cottage cabbage-rose + Not one whit behind. + +On the blast of scorched July + Drives the pelting hail, 50 +From thunderous lightning-clouds, that blot + Blue heaven grown lurid-pale. +Weedy waves are tossed ashore, + Sea-things strange to sight +Gasp upon the barren shore + And fade away in light. + +In the parching August wind + Corn-fields bow the head, +Sheltered in round valley depths, + On low hills outspread. 60 +Early leaves drop loitering down + Weightless on the breeze, +First fruits of the year's decay + From the withering trees. + +In brisk wind of September + The heavy-headed fruits +Shake upon their bending boughs + And drop from the shoots; +Some glow golden in the sun, + Some show green and streaked, 70 +Some set forth a purple bloom, + Some blush rosy-cheeked. + +In strong blast of October + At the equinox, +Stirred up in his hollow bed + Broad ocean rocks; +Plunge the ships on his bosom, + Leaps and plunges the foam,-- +It's oh! for mothers' sons at sea, + That they were safe at home. 80 + +In slack wind of November + The fog forms and shifts; +All the world comes out again + When the fog lifts. +Loosened from their sapless twigs + Leaves drop with every gust; +Drifting, rustling, out of sight + In the damp or dust. + +Last of all, December, + The year's sands nearly run, 90 +Speeds on the shortest day, + Curtails the sun; +With its bleak raw wind + Lays the last leaves low, +Brings back the nightly frosts, + Brings back the snow. + + + + +THE QUEEN OF HEARTS + + +How comes it, Flora, that, whenever we +Play cards together, you invariably, + However the pack parts, + Still hold the Queen of Hearts? + +I've scanned you with a scrutinizing gaze, +Resolved to fathom these your secret ways: + But, sift them as I will, + Your ways are secret still. + +I cut and shuffle; shuffle, cut, again; +But all my cutting, shuffling, proves in vain: 10 + Vain hope, vain forethought too; + The Queen still falls to you. + +I dropped her once, prepense; but, ere the deal +Was dealt, your instinct seemed her loss to feel: + 'There should be one card more,' + You said, and searched the floor. + +I cheated once; I made a private notch +In Heart-Queen's back, and kept a lynx-eyed watch; + Yet such another back + Deceived me in the pack: 20 + +The Queen of Clubs assumed by arts unknown +An imitative dint that seemed my own; + This notch, not of my doing, + Misled me to my ruin. + +It baffles me to puzzle out the clue, +Which must be skill, or craft, or luck in you: + Unless, indeed, it be + Natural affinity. + + + + +ONE DAY + + +I will tell you when they met: +In the limpid days of Spring; +Elder boughs were budding yet, +Oaken boughs looked wintry still, +But primrose and veined violet +In the mossful turf were set, +While meeting birds made haste to sing +And build with right good will. + +I will tell you when they parted: +When plenteous Autumn sheaves were brown, 10 +Then they parted heavy-hearted; +The full rejoicing sun looked down +As grand as in the days before; +Only they had lost a crown; +Only to them those days of yore +Could come back nevermore. + +When shall they meet? I cannot tell, +Indeed, when they shall meet again, +Except some day in Paradise: +For this they wait, one waits in pain. 20 +Beyond the sea of death love lies +For ever, yesterday, to-day; +Angels shall ask them, 'Is it well?' +And they shall answer, 'Yea.' + + + + +A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW + + +'Croak, croak, croak,' +Thus the Raven spoke, +Perched on his crooked tree +As hoarse as hoarse could be. +Shun him and fear him, +Lest the Bridegroom hear him; +Scout him and rout him +With his ominous eye about him. + +Yet, 'Croak, croak, croak,' +Still tolled from the oak; 10 +From that fatal black bird, +Whether heard or unheard: +'O ship upon the high seas, +Freighted with lives and spices, +Sink, O ship,' croaked the Raven: +'Let the Bride mount to heaven.' + +In a far foreign land, +Upon the wave-edged sand, +Some friends gaze wistfully +Across the glittering sea. 20 +'If we could clasp our sister,' +Three say, 'now we have missed her!' +'If we could kiss our daughter!' +Two sigh across the water. + +Oh, the ship sails fast +With silken flags at the mast, +And the home-wind blows soft; +But a Raven sits aloft, +Chuckling and choking, +Croaking, croaking, croaking:-- 30 +Let the beacon-fire blaze higher; +Bridegroom, watch; the Bride draws nigher. + +On a sloped sandy beach, +Which the spring-tide billows reach, +Stand a watchful throng +Who have hoped and waited long: +'Fie on this ship, that tarries +With the priceless freight it carries. +The time seems long and longer: +O languid wind, wax stronger;'-- 40 + +Whilst the Raven perched at ease +Still croaks and does not cease, +One monotonous note +Tolled from his iron throat: +'No father, no mother, +But I have a sable brother: +He sees where ocean flows to, +And he knows what he knows, too.' + +A day and a night +They kept watch worn and white; 50 +A night and a day +For the swift ship on its way: +For the Bride and her maidens +--Clear chimes the bridal cadence-- +For the tall ship that never +Hove in sight for ever. + +On either shore, some +Stand in grief loud or dumb +As the dreadful dread +Grows certain though unsaid. 60 +For laughter there is weeping, +And waking instead of sleeping, +And a desperate sorrow +Morrow after morrow. + +Oh, who knows the truth, +How she perished in her youth, +And like a queen went down +Pale in her royal crown: +How she went up to glory +From the sea-foam chill and hoary, 70 +From the sea-depth black and riven +To the calm that is in Heaven? + +They went down, all the crew, +The silks and spices too, +The great ones and the small, +One and all, one and all. +Was it through stress of weather, +Quicksands, rocks, or all together? +Only the Raven knows this, +And he will not disclose this.-- 80 + +After a day and year +The bridal bells chime clear; +After a year and a day +The Bridegroom is brave and gay: +Love is sound, faith is rotten; +The old Bride is forgotten:-- +Two ominous Ravens only +Remember, black and lonely. + + + + +LIGHT LOVE + + +'Oh, sad thy lot before I came, + But sadder when I go; +My presence but a flash of flame, + A transitory glow + Between two barren wastes like snow. +What wilt thou do when I am gone, + Where wilt thou rest, my dear? +For cold thy bed to rest upon, + And cold the falling year + Whose withered leaves are lost and sere.' 10 + +She hushed the baby at her breast, + She rocked it on her knee: +'And I will rest my lonely rest, + Warmed with the thought of thee, + Rest lulled to rest by memory.' +She hushed the baby with her kiss, + She hushed it with her breast: +'Is death so sadder much than this-- + Sure death that builds a nest + For those who elsewhere cannot rest?' 20 + +'Oh, sad thy note, my mateless dove, + With tender nestling cold; +But hast thou ne'er another love + Left from the days of old, + To build thy nest of silk and gold, +To warm thy paleness to a blush + When I am far away-- +To warm thy coldness to a flush, + And turn thee back to May, + And turn thy twilight back to day?' 30 + +She did not answer him again, + But leaned her face aside, +Weary with the pang of shame and pain, + And sore with wounded pride: + He knew his very soul had lied. +She strained his baby in her arms, + His baby to her heart: +'Even let it go, the love that harms: + We twain will never part; + Mine own, his own, how dear thou art.' 40 + +'Now never teaze me, tender-eyed, + Sigh-voiced,' he said in scorn: +'For nigh at hand there blooms a bride, + My bride before the morn; + Ripe-blooming she, as thou forlorn. +Ripe-blooming she, my rose, my peach; + She woos me day and night: +I watch her tremble in my reach; + She reddens, my delight, + She ripens, reddens in my sight.' 50 + +'And is she like a sunlit rose? + Am I like withered leaves? +Haste where thy spiced garden blows: + But in bare Autumn eves + Wilt thou have store of harvest sheaves? +Thou leavest love, true love behind, + To seek a love as true; +Go, seek in haste: but wilt thou find? + Change new again for new; + Pluck up, enjoy--yea, trample too. 60 + +'Alas for her, poor faded rose, + Alas for her her, like me, +Cast down and trampled in the snows.' + 'Like thee? nay, not like thee: + She leans, but from a guarded tree. +Farewell, and dream as long ago, + Before we ever met: +Farewell; my swift-paced horse seems slow.' + She raised her eyes, not wet + But hard, to Heaven: 'Does God forget?' 70 + + + + +A DREAM + +Sonnet + + +Once in a dream (for once I dreamed of you) + We stood together in an open field; + Above our heads two swift-winged pigeons wheeled, +Sporting at ease and courting full in view. +When loftier still a broadening darkness flew, + Down-swooping, and a ravenous hawk revealed; + Too weak to fight, too fond to fly, they yield; +So farewell life and love and pleasures new. +Then as their plumes fell fluttering to the ground, + Their snow-white plumage flecked with crimson drops, + I wept, and thought I turned towards you to weep: + But you were gone; while rustling hedgerow tops +Bent in a wind which bore to me a sound + Of far-off piteous bleat of lambs and sheep. + + + + +A RING POSY + + +Jess and Jill are pretty girls, + Plump and well to do, +In a cloud of windy curls: + Yet I know who +Loves me more than curls or pearls. + +I'm not pretty, not a bit-- + Thin and sallow-pale; +When I trudge along the street + I don't need a veil: +Yet I have one fancy hit. 10 + +Jess and Jill can trill and sing + With a flute-like voice, +Dance as light as bird on wing, + Laugh for careless joys: +Yet it's I who wear the ring. + +Jess and Jill will mate some day, + Surely, surely: +Ripen on to June through May, +While the sun shines make their hay, + Slacken steps demurely: 20 +Yet even there I lead the way. + + + + +BEAUTY IS VAIN + + +While roses are so red, + While lilies are so white, +Shall a woman exalt her face + Because it gives delight? +She's not so sweet as a rose, + A lily's straighter than she, +And if she were as red or white + She'd be but one of three. + +Whether she flush in love's summer + Or in its winter grow pale, 10 +Whether she flaunt her beauty + Or hide it away in a veil, +Be she red or white, + And stand she erect or bowed, +Time will win the race he runs with her + And hide her away in a shroud. + + + + +LADY MAGGIE + + +You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear, + For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see; +And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year, + 'Twill be little lord or lady at my knee. + +Oh, but what ails you, my sailor cousin Phil, + That you shake and turn white like a cockcrow ghost? +You're as white as I turned once down by the mill, + When one told me you and ship and crew were lost: + +Philip my playfellow, when we were boy and girl + (It was the Miller's Nancy told it to me), 10 +Philip with the merry life in lip and curl, + Philip my playfellow drowned in the sea! + +I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint; + I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad, +Till I raised my wail of desolate complaint + For you, my cousin, brother, all I had. + +They said I looked so pale--some say so fair-- + My lord stopped in passing to soothe me back to life: +I know I missed a ringlet from my hair + Next morning; and now I am his wife. 20 + +Look at my gown, Philip, and look at my ring, + I'm all crimson and gold from top to toe: +All day long I sit in the sun and sing, + Where in the sun red roses blush and blow. + +And I'm the rose of roses says my lord; + And to him I'm more than the sun in the sky, +While I hold him fast with the golden cord + Of a curl, with the eyelash of an eye. + +His mother said 'fie,' and his sisters cried 'shame,' + His highborn ladies cried 'shame' from their place: 30 +They said 'fie' when they only heard my name, + But fell silent when they saw my face. + +Am I so fair, Philip? Philip, did you think + I was so fair when we played boy and girl, +Where blue forget-me-nots bloomed on the brink + Of our stream which the mill-wheel sent a whirl? + +If I was fair then sure I'm fairer now, + Sitting where a score of servants stand, +With a coronet on high days for my brow + And almost a sceptre for my hand. 40 + +You're but a sailor, Philip, weatherbeaten brown, + A stranger on land and at home on the sea, +Coasting as best you may from town to town: + Coasting along do you often think of me? + +I'm a great lady in a sheltered bower, + With hands grown white through having nought to do: +Yet sometimes I think of you hour after hour + Till I nigh wish myself a child with you. + + + + +WHAT WOULD I GIVE? + + +What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through, +Instead of this heart of stone ice-cold whatever I do; +Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all. + +What would I give for words, if only words would come; +But now in its misery my spirit has fallen dumb: +Oh, merry friends, go your own way, I have never a word to say. + +What would I give for tears, not smiles but scalding tears, +To wash the black mark clean, and to thaw the frost of years, +To wash the stain ingrain and to make me clean again. + + + + +THE BOURNE + + +Underneath the growing grass, + Underneath the living flowers, + Deeper than the sound of showers: + There we shall not count the hours +By the shadows as they pass. + +Youth and health will be but vain, + Beauty reckoned of no worth: + There a very little girth + Can hold round what once the earth +Seemed too narrow to contain. + + + + +SUMMER + + +Winter is cold-hearted + Spring is yea and nay, +Autumn is a weather-cock + Blown every way: +Summer days for me +When every leaf is on its tree; + +When Robin's not a beggar, + And Jenny Wren's a bride, +And larks hang singing, singing, singing, + Over the wheat-fields wide, 10 + And anchored lilies ride, +And the pendulum spider + Swings from side to side, + +And blue-black beetles transact business, + And gnats fly in a host, +And furry caterpillars hasten + That no time be lost, +And moths grow fat and thrive, +And ladybirds arrive. + +Before green apples blush, 20 + Before green nuts embrown, +Why, one day in the country + Is worth a month in town; + Is worth a day and a year +Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion + That days drone elsewhere. + + + + +AUTUMN + + +I dwell alone--I dwell alone, alone, + Whilst full my river flows down to the sea, +Gilded with flashing boats + That bring no friend to me: +O love-songs, gurgling from a hundred throats, + O love-pangs, let me be. + +Fair fall the freighted boats which gold and stone + And spices bear to sea: +Slim, gleaming maidens swell their mellow notes, + Love-promising, entreating-- 10 + Ah! sweet, but fleeting-- + Beneath the shivering, snow-white sails. + Hush! the wind flags and fails-- +Hush! they will lie becalmed in sight of strand-- + Sight of my strand, where I do dwell alone; +Their songs wake singing echoes in my land-- + They cannot hear me moan. + + One latest, solitary swallow flies + Across the sea, rough autumn-tempest tossed, + Poor bird, shall it be lost? 20 + Dropped down into this uncongenial sea, + With no kind eyes + To watch it while it dies, + Unguessed, uncared for, free: + Set free at last, + The short pang past, +In sleep, in death, in dreamless sleep locked fast. + +Mine avenue is all a growth of oaks, + Some rent by thunder strokes, +Some rustling leaves and acorns in the breeze; 30 + Fair fall my fertile trees, +That rear their goodly heads, and live at ease. + +A spider's web blocks all mine avenue; + He catches down and foolish painted flies + That spider wary and wise. +Each morn it hangs a rainbow strung with dew + Betwixt boughs green with sap, + So fair, few creatures guess it is a trap: + I will not mar the web, +Though sad I am to see the small lives ebb. 40 + +It shakes--my trees shake--for a wind is roused + In cavern where it housed: + Each white and quivering sail, + Of boats among the water leaves +Hollows and strains in the full-throated gale: + Each maiden sings again-- +Each languid maiden, whom the calm +Had lulled to sleep with rest and spice and balm + Miles down my river to the sea + They float and wane, 50 + Long miles away from me. + + Perhaps they say: 'She grieves, + Uplifted, like a beacon, on her tower.' + Perhaps they say: 'One hour +More, and we dance among the golden sheaves.' + Perhaps they say: 'One hour + More, and we stand, + Face to face, hand in hand; +Make haste, O slack gale, to the looked-for land!' + + My trees are not in flower, 60 + I have no bower, + And gusty creaks my tower, +And lonesome, very lonesome, is my strand. + + + + +THE GHOST'S PETITION + + +'There's a footstep coming: look out and see,' + 'The leaves are falling, the wind is calling; +No one cometh across the lea.'-- + +'There's a footstep coming; O sister, look.'-- + 'The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes; +No one cometh across the brook.'-- + +'But he promised that he would come: + To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow, +He must keep his word, and must come home. + +'For he promised that he would come: 10 + His word was given; from earth or heaven, +He must keep his word, and must come home. + +'Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; + You can slumber, who need not number +Hour after hour, in doubt and pain. + +'I shall sit here awhile, and watch; + Listening, hoping, for one hand groping +In deep shadow to find the latch.' + +After the dark, and before the light, + One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, 20 +Who had watched and wept the weary night. + +After the night, and before the day, + One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping-- +Watching, weeping for one away. + +There came a footstep climbing the stair; + Some one standing out on the landing +Shook the door like a puff of air-- + +Shook the door, and in he passed. + Did he enter? In the room centre +Stood her husband: the door shut fast. 30 + +'O Robin, but you are cold-- + Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you +Look like a stray lamb from our fold. + +'O Robin, but you are late: + Come and sit near me--sit here and cheer me.'-- +(Blue the flame burnt in the grate.) + +'Lay not down your head on my breast: + I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you +In the shelter that you love best. + +'Feel not after my clasping hand: 40 + I am but a shadow, come from the meadow +Where many lie, but no tree can stand. + +'We are trees which have shed their leaves: + Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there; +Only I grieve for my wife who grieves. + +'I could rest if you would not moan + Hour after hour; I have no power +To shut my ears where I lie alone. + +'I could rest if you would not cry; + But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping-- 50 +Watching, weeping so bitterly.'-- + +'Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard. + Oh night of sorrow!--oh black to-morrow! +Is it thus that you keep your word? + +'O you who used so to shelter me + Warm from the least wind--why, now the east wind +Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see. + +'O my husband of flesh and blood, + For whom my mother I left, and brother, +And all I had, accounting it good, 60 + +'What do you do there, underground, + In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow. +What do you do there?--what have you found?'-- + +'What I do there I must not tell: + But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye: +It is well with us--it is well. + +'Tender hand hath made our nest; + Our fear is ended, our hope is blended +With present pleasure, and we have rest.'-- + +'Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come, 70 + If your present days are so pleasant; +For my days are so wearisome. + +'Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake: + Why should I tease you, who cannot please you +Any more with the pains I take?' + + + + +MEMORY + + +I + +I nursed it in my bosom while it lived, + I hid it in my heart when it was dead; +In joy I sat alone, even so I grieved + Alone and nothing said. + +I shut the door to face the naked truth, + I stood alone--I faced the truth alone, +Stripped bare of self-regard or forms or ruth + Till first and last were shown. + +I took the perfect balances and weighed; + No shaking of my hand disturbed the poise; 10 +Weighed, found it wanting: not a word I said, + But silent made my choice. + +None know the choice I made; I make it still. + None know the choice I made and broke my heart, +Breaking mine idol: I have braced my will + Once, chosen for once my part. + +I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold, + Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live. +My heart dies inch by inch; the time grows old, + Grows old in which I grieve. 20 + +II + +I have a room whereinto no one enters + Save I myself alone: + There sits a blessed memory on a throne, +There my life centres. + +While winter comes and goes--oh tedious comer!-- + And while its nip-wind blows; + While bloom the bloodless lily and warm rose +Of lavish summer. + +If any should force entrance he might see there + One buried yet not dead, 30 + Before whose face I no more bow my head +Or bend my knee there; + +But often in my worn life's autumn weather + I watch there with clear eyes, + And think how it will be in Paradise +When we're together. + + + + +A ROYAL PRINCESS + + +I, a princess, king-descended, decked with jewels, gilded, drest, +Would rather be a peasant with her baby at her breast, +For all I shine so like the sun, and am purple like the west. + +Two and two my guards behind, two and two before, +Two and two on either hand, they guard me evermore; +Me, poor dove, that must not coo--eagle that must not soar. + +All my fountains cast up perfumes, all my gardens grow +Scented woods and foreign spices, with all flowers in blow +That are costly, out of season as the seasons go. + +All my walls are lost in mirrors, whereupon I trace 10 +Self to right hand, self to left hand, self in every place, +Self-same solitary figure, self-same seeking face. + +Then I have an ivory chair high to sit upon, +Almost like my father's chair, which is an ivory throne; +There I sit uplift and upright, there I sit alone. + +Alone by day, alone by night, alone days without end; +My father and my mother give me treasures, search and spend-- +O my father! O my mother! have you ne'er a friend? + +As I am a lofty princess, so my father is +A lofty king, accomplished in all kingly subtilties, 20 +Holding in his strong right hand world-kingdoms' balances. + +He has quarrelled with his neighbours, he has scourged his foes; +Vassal counts and princes follow where his pennon goes, +Long-descended valiant lords whom the vulture knows, + +On whose track the vulture swoops, when they ride in state +To break the strength of armies and topple down the great: +Each of these my courteous servant, none of these my mate. + +My father counting up his strength sets down with equal pen +So many head of cattle, head of horses, head of men; +These for slaughter, these for breeding, with the how and when. 30 + +Some to work on roads, canals; some to man his ships; +Some to smart in mines beneath sharp overseers' whips; +Some to trap fur-beasts in lands where utmost winter nips. + +Once it came into my heart, and whelmed me like a flood, +That these too are men and women, human flesh and blood; +Men with hearts and men with souls, though trodden down like mud. + +Our feasting was not glad that night, our music was not gay: +On my mother's graceful head I marked a thread of grey, +My father frowning at the fare seemed every dish to weigh. + +I sat beside them sole princess in my exalted place, 40 +My ladies and my gentlemen stood by me on the dais: +A mirror showed me I look old and haggard in the face; + +It showed me that my ladies all are fair to gaze upon, +Plump, plenteous-haired, to every one love's secret lore is known, +They laugh by day, they sleep by night; ah me, what is a throne? + +The singing men and women sang that night as usual, +The dancers danced in pairs and sets, but music had a fall, +A melancholy windy fall as at a funeral. + +Amid the toss of torches to my chamber back we swept; +My ladies loosed my golden chain; meantime I could have wept 50 +To think of some in galling chains whether they waked or slept. + +I took my bath of scented milk, delicately waited on, +They burned sweet things for my delight, cedar and cinnamon, +They lit my shaded silver lamp, and left me there alone. + +A day went by, a week went by. One day I heard it said: +'Men are clamouring, women, children, clamouring to be fed; +Men like famished dogs are howling in the streets for bread.' + +So two whispered by my door, not thinking I could hear, +Vulgar naked truth, ungarnished for a royal ear; +Fit for cooping in the background, not to stalk so near. 60 + +But I strained my utmost sense to catch this truth, and mark: +'There are families out grazing like cattle in the park.' +'A pair of peasants must be saved even if we build an ark.' + +A merry jest, a merry laugh, each strolled upon his way; +One was my page, a lad I reared and bore with day by day; +One was my youngest maid as sweet and white as cream in May. + +Other footsteps followed softly with a weightier tramp; +Voices said: 'Picked soldiers have been summoned from the camp +To quell these base-born ruffians who make free to howl and stamp.' + +'Howl and stamp?' one answered: 'They made free to hurl a stone 70 +At the minister's state coach, well aimed and stoutly thrown.' +'There's work then for the soldiers, for this rank crop must be mown.' + +'One I saw, a poor old fool with ashes on his head, +Whimpering because a girl had snatched his crust of bread: +Then he dropped; when some one raised him, it turned out he was dead.' + +'After us the deluge,' was retorted with a laugh: +'If bread's the staff of life, they must walk without a staff.' +'While I've a loaf they're welcome to my blessing and the chaff.' + +These passed. The king: stand up. Said my father with a smile: +'Daughter mine, your mother comes to sit with you awhile, 80 +She's sad to-day, and who but you her sadness can beguile?' + +He too left me. Shall I touch my harp now while I wait,-- +(I hear them doubling guard below before our palace gate--) +Or shall I work the last gold stitch into my veil of state; + +Or shall my woman stand and read some unimpassioned scene, +There's music of a lulling sort in words that pause between; +Or shall she merely fan me while I wait here for the queen? + +Again I caught my father's voice in sharp word of command: +'Charge!' a clash of steel: 'Charge again, the rebels stand. +Smite and spare not, hand to hand; smite and spare not, hand to hand.' + +There swelled a tumult at the gate, high voices waxing higher; 91 +A flash of red reflected light lit the cathedral spire; +I heard a cry for faggots, then I heard a yell for fire. + +'Sit and roast there with your meat, sit and bake there with your bread, +You who sat to see us starve,' one shrieking woman said: +'Sit on your throne and roast with your crown upon your head.' + +Nay, this thing will I do, while my mother tarrieth, +I will take my fine spun gold, but not to sew therewith, +I will take my gold and gems, and rainbow fan and wreath; + +With a ransom in my lap, a king's ransom in my hand, 100 +I will go down to this people, will stand face to face, will stand +Where they curse king, queen, and princess of this cursed land. + +They shall take all to buy them bread, take all I have to give; +I, if I perish, perish; they to-day shall eat and live; +I, if I perish, perish; that's the goal I half conceive: + +Once to speak before the world, rend bare my heart and show +The lesson I have learned which is death, is life, to know. +I, if I perish, perish; in the name of God I go. + + + + +SHALL I FORGET? + + +Shall I forget on this side of the grave? +I promise nothing: you must wait and see + Patient and brave. +(O my soul, watch with him and he with me.) + +Shall I forget in peace of Paradise? +I promise nothing: follow, friend, and see + Faithful and wise. +(O my soul, lead the way he walks with me.) + + + + +VANITY OF VANITIES + +Sonnet + + +Ah, woe is me for pleasure that is vain, + Ah, woe is me for glory that is past: + Pleasure that bringeth sorrow at the last, +Glory that at the last bringeth no gain! +So saith the sinking heart; and so again + It shall say till the mighty angel-blast + Is blown, making the sun and moon aghast +And showering down the stars like sudden rain. +And evermore men shall go fearfully + Bending beneath their weight of heaviness; +And ancient men shall lie down wearily, + And strong men shall rise up in weariness; +Yea, even the young shall answer sighingly + Saying one to another: How vain it is! + + + + +L. E. L. + +'Whose heart was breaking for a little love.' + + +Downstairs I laugh, I sport and jest with all; + But in my solitary room above +I turn my face in silence to the wall; + My heart is breaking for a little love. + Though winter frosts are done, + And birds pair every one, +And leaves peep out, for springtide is begun. + +I feel no spring, while spring is wellnigh blown, + I find no nest, while nests are in the grove: +Woe's me for mine own heart that dwells alone, 10 + My heart that breaketh for a little love. + While golden in the sun + Rivulets rise and run, +While lilies bud, for springtide is begun. + +All love, are loved, save only I; their hearts + Beat warm with love and joy, beat full thereof: +They cannot guess, who play the pleasant parts, + My heart is breaking for a little love. + While beehives wake and whirr, + And rabbit thins his fur, 20 +In living spring that sets the world astir. + +I deck myself with skills and jewelry, + I plume myself like any mated dove: +They praise my rustling show, and never see + My heart is breaking for a little love. + While sprouts green lavender + With rosemary and myrrh, +For in quick spring the sap is all astir. + +Perhaps some saints in glory guess the truth, + Perhaps some angels read it as they move, 30 +And cry one to another full of ruth, + 'Her heart is breaking for a little love.' + Though other things have birth, + And leap and sing for mirth, +When springtime wakes and clothes and feeds the earth. + +Yet saith a saint: 'Take patience for thy scathe;' + Yet saith an angel: 'Wait, for thou shalt prove +True best is last, true life is born of death, + O thou, heart-broken for a little love. + Then love shall fill they girth, 40 + And love make fat thy dearth, +When new spring builds new heaven and clean new earth.' + + + + +LIFE AND DEATH + + +Life is not sweet. One day it will be sweet + To shut our eyes and die: +Nor feel the wild flowers blow, nor birds dart by + With flitting butterfly, +Nor grass grow long above our heads and feet, +Nor hear the happy lark that soars sky high, +Nor sigh that spring is fleet and summer fleet, + Nor mark the waxing wheat, +Nor know who sits in our accustomed seat. + +Life is not good. One day it will be good 10 + To die, then live again; +To sleep meanwhile: so not to feel the wane +Of shrunk leaves dropping in the wood, +Nor hear the foamy lashing of the main, +Nor mark the blackened bean-fields, nor where stood + Rich ranks of golden grain +Only dead refuse stubble clothe the plain: +Asleep from risk, asleep from pain. + + + + +BIRD OR BEAST? + + +Did any bird come flying + After Adam and Eve, +When the door was shut against them + And they sat down to grieve? + +I think not Eve's peacock + Splendid to see, +And I think not Adam's eagle; + But a dove may be. + +Did any beast come pushing + Through the thorny hedge 10 +Into the thorny thistly world, + Out from Eden's edge? + +I think not a lion, + Though his strength is such; +But an innocent loving lamb + May have done as much. + +If the dove preached from her bough + and the lamb from his sod, +The lamb and dove + Were preachers sent from God. 20 + + + + +EVE + + +'While I sit at the door +Sick to gaze within +Mine eye weepeth sore +For sorrow and sin: +As a tree my sin stands +To darken all lands; +Death is the fruit it bore. + +'How have Eden bowers grown +Without Adam to bend them! +How have Eden flowers blown 10 +Squandering their sweet breath +Without me to tend them! +The Tree of Life was ours, +Tree twelvefold-fruited, +Most lofty tree that flowers, +Most deeply rooted: +I chose the tree of death. + +'Hadst thou but said me nay, +Adam, my brother, +I might have pined away; 20 +I, but none other: +God might have let thee stay +Safe in our garden, +By putting me away +Beyond all pardon. + +'I, Eve, sad mother +Of all who must live, +I, not another +Plucked bitterest fruit to give +My friend, husband, lover-- 30 +O wanton eyes, run over; +Who but I should grieve?-- +Cain hath slain his brother: +Of all who must die mother, +Miserable Eve!' + +Thus she sat weeping, +Thus Eve our mother, +Where one lay sleeping +Slain by his brother. +Greatest and least 40 +Each piteous beast +To hear her voice +Forgot his joys +And set aside his feast. + +The mouse paused in his walk +And dropped his wheaten stalk; +Grave cattle wagged their heads +In rumination; +The eagle gave a cry +From his cloud station; 50 +Larks on thyme beds +Forbore to mount or sing; +Bees drooped upon the wing; +The raven perched on high +Forgot his ration; +The conies in their rock, +A feeble nation, +Quaked sympathetical; +The mocking-bird left off to mock; +Huge camels knelt as if 60 +In deprecation; +The kind hart's tears were falling; +Chattered the wistful stork; +Dove-voices with a dying fall +Cooed desolation +Answering grief by grief. + +Only the serpent in the dust +Wriggling and crawling, +Grinned an evil grin and thrust +His tongue out with its fork. 70 + + + + +GROWN AND FLOWN + + +I loved my love from green of Spring + Until sere Autumn's fall; +But now that leaves are withering + How should one love at all? + One heart's too small +For hunger, cold, love, everything. + +I loved my love on sunny days + Until late Summer's wane; +But now that frost begins to glaze + How should one love again? 10 + Nay, love and pain +Walk wide apart in diverse ways. + +I loved my love--alas to see + That this should be, alas! +I thought that this could scarcely be, + Yet has it come to pass: + Sweet sweet love was, +Now bitter bitter grown to me. + + + + +A FARM WALK + + +The year stood at its equinox + And bluff the North was blowing, +A bleat of lambs came from the flocks, + Green hardy things were growing; +I met a maid with shining locks + Where milky kine were lowing. + +She wore a kerchief on her neck, + Her bare arm showed its dimple, +Her apron spread without a speck, + Her air was frank and simple. 10 + +She milked into a wooden pail + And sang a country ditty, +An innocent fond lovers' tale, + That was not wise nor witty, +Pathetically rustical, + Too pointless for the city. + +She kept in time without a beat + As true as church-bell ringers, +Unless she tapped time with her feet, + Or squeezed it with her fingers; 20 +Her clear unstudied notes were sweet + As many a practised singer's. + +I stood a minute out of sight, + Stood silent for a minute +To eye the pail, and creamy white + The frothing milk within it; + +To eye the comely milking maid + Herself so fresh and creamy: +'Good day to you,' at last I said; + She turned her head to see me: 30 +'Good day,' she said with lifted head; + Her eyes looked soft and dreamy, + +And all the while she milked and milked + The grave cow heavy-laden: +I've seen grand ladies plumed and silked, + But not a sweeter maiden; + +But not a sweeter fresher maid + Than this in homely cotton, +Whose pleasant face and silky braid + I have not yet forgotten. 40 + +Seven springs have passed since then, as I + Count with a sober sorrow; +Seven springs have come and passed me by, + And spring sets in to-morrow. + +I've half a mind to shake myself + Free just for once from London, +To set my work upon the shelf + And leave it done or undone; + +To run down by the early train, + Whirl down with shriek and whistle, 50 +And feel the bluff North blow again, + And mark the sprouting thistle +Set up on waste patch of the lane + Its green and tender bristle. + +And spy the scarce-blown violet banks, + Crisp primrose leaves and others, +And watch the lambs leap at their pranks + And butt their patient mothers. + +Alas, one point in all my plan + My serious thoughts demur to: 60 +Seven years have passed for maid and man, + Seven years have passed for her too; + +Perhaps my rose is overblown, + Not rosy or too rosy; +Perhaps in farmhouse of her own + Some husband keeps her cosy, +Where I should show a face unknown. + Good-bye, my wayside posy. + + + + +SOMEWHERE OR OTHER + + +Somewhere or other there must surely be + The face not seen, the voice not heard, +The heart that not yet--never yet--ah me! + Made answer to my word. + +Somewhere or other, may be near or far; + Past land and sea, clean out of sight; +Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star + That tracks her night by night. + +Somewhere or other, may be far or near; + With just a wall, a hedge, between; 10 +With just the last leaves of the dying year + Fallen on a turf grown green. + + + + +A CHILL + + + What can lambkins do + All the keen night through? +Nestle by their woolly mother + The careful ewe. + + What can nestlings do + In the nightly dew? +Sleep beneath their mother's wing + Till day breaks anew. + + If in a field or tree + There might only be 10 +Such a warm soft sleeping-place + Found for me! + + + + +CHILD'S TALK IN APRIL + + +I wish you were a pleasant wren, + And I your small accepted mate; +How we'd look down on toilsome men! + We'd rise and go to bed at eight + Or it may be not quite so late. + +Then you should see the nest I'd build, + The wondrous nest for you and me; +The outside rough perhaps, but filled + With wool and down; ah, you should see + The cosy nest that it would be. 10 + +We'd have our change of hope and fear, + Small quarrels, reconcilements sweet: +I'd perch by you to chirp and cheer, + Or hop about on active feet, + And fetch you dainty bits to eat. + +We'd be so happy by the day, + So safe and happy through the night, +We both should feel, and I should say, + It's all one season of delight, +And we'll make merry whilst we may. 20 + +Perhaps some day there'd be an egg + When spring had blossomed from the snow: +I'd stand triumphant on one leg; + Like chanticleer I'd almost crow + To let our little neighbours know. + +Next you should sit and I would sing +Through lengthening days of sunny spring; + Till, if you wearied of the task, +I'd sit; and you should spread your wing + From bough to bough; I'd sit and bask. 30 + +Fancy the breaking of the shell, + The chirp, the chickens wet and bare, +The untried proud paternal swell; + And you with housewife-matron air + Enacting choicer bills of fare. + +Fancy the embryo coats of down, + The gradual feathers soft and sleek; +Till clothed and strong from tail to crown, + With virgin warblings in their beak, + They too go forth to soar and seek. 40 + +So would it last an April through +And early summer fresh with dew: + Then should we part and live as twain, +Love-time would bring me back to you + And build our happy nest again. + + + + +GONE FOR EVER + + +O happy rose-bud blooming + Upon thy parent tree, +Nay, thou art too presuming; +For soon the earth entombing + Thy faded charms shall be, +And the chill damp consuming. + +O happy skylark springing + Up to the broad blue sky, +Too fearless in thy winging, +Too gladsome in thy singing, 10 + Thou also soon shalt lie +Where no sweet notes are ringing. + +And through life's shine and shower + We shall have joy and pain; +But in the summer bower, +And at the morning hour, + We still shall look in vain +For the same bird and flower. + + + + +UNDER THE ROSE + +'The iniquity of the fathers upon the children.' + + +Oh the rose of keenest thorn! +One hidden summer morn +Under the rose I was born. + +I do not guess his name +Who wrought my Mother's shame, +And gave me life forlorn, +But my Mother, Mother, Mother, +I know her from all other. +My Mother pale and mild, +Fair as ever was seen, 10 +She was but scarce sixteen, +Little more than a child, +When I was born +To work her scorn. +With secret bitter throes, +In a passion of secret woes, +She bore me under the rose. + +One who my Mother nursed +Took me from the first:-- +'O nurse, let me look upon 20 +This babe that costs so dear; +To-morrow she will be gone: +Other mothers may keep +Their babes awake and asleep, +But I must not keep her here.'-- +Whether I know or guess, +I know this not the less. + +So I was sent away +That none might spy the truth: +And my childhood waxed to youth 30 +And I left off childish play. +I never cared to play +With the village boys and girls; +And I think they thought me proud, +I found so little to say +And kept so from the crowd: +But I had the longest curls +And I had the largest eyes +And my teeth were small like pearls; +The girls might flout and scout me, 40 +But the boys would hang about me +In sheepish mooning wise. + +Our one-street village stood +A long mile from the town, +A mile of windy down +And bleak one-sided wood, +With not a single house. +Our town itself was small, +With just the common shops, +And throve in its small way. 50 +Our neighbouring gentry reared +The good old-fashioned crops, +And made old-fashioned boasts +Of what John Bull would do +If Frenchman Frog appeared, +And drank old-fashioned toasts, +And made old-fashioned bows +To my Lady at the Hall. + +My Lady at the Hall +Is grander than they all: 60 +Hers is the oldest name +In all the neighbourhood; +But the race must die with her +Though she's a lofty dame, +For she's unmarried still. +Poor people say she's good +And has an open hand +As any in the land, +And she's the comforter +Of many sick and sad; 70 +My nurse once said to me +That everything she had +Came of my Lady's bounty: +'Though she's greatest in the county +She's humble to the poor, +No beggar seeks her door +But finds help presently. +I pray both night and day +For her, and you must pray: +But she'll never feel distress 80 +If needy folk can bless.' + +I was a little maid +When here we came to live +From somewhere by the sea. +Men spoke a foreign tongue +There where we used to be +When I was merry and young, +Too young to feel afraid; +The fisher folk would give +A kind strange word to me, 90 +There by the foreign sea: +I don't know where it was, +But I remember still +Our cottage on a hill, +And fields of flowering grass +On that fair foreign shore. + +I liked my old home best, +But this was pleasant too: +So here we made our nest +And here I grew. 100 +And now and then my Lady +In riding past our door +Would nod to Nurse and speak, +Or stoop and pat my cheek; +And I was always ready +To hold the field-gate wide +For my Lady to go through; +My Lady in her veil +So seldom put aside, +My Lady grave and pale. 110 + +I often sat to wonder +Who might my parents be, +For I knew of something under +My simple-seeming state. +Nurse never talked to me +Of mother or of father, +But watched me early and late +With kind suspicious cares: +Or not suspicious, rather +Anxious, as if she knew 120 +Some secret I might gather +And smart for unawares. +Thus I grew. + +But Nurse waxed old and grey, +Bent and weak with years. +There came a certain day +That she lay upon her bed +Shaking her palsied head, +With words she gasped to say +Which had to stay unsaid. 130 +Then with a jerking hand +Held out so piteously +She gave a ring to me +Of gold wrought curiously, +A ring which she had worn +Since the day I was born, +She once had said to me: +I slipped it on my finger; +Her eyes were keen to linger +On my hand that slipped it on; 140 +Then she sighed one rattling sigh +And stared on with sightless eye:-- +The one who loved me was gone. + +How long I stayed alone +With the corpse I never knew, +For I fainted dead as stone: +When I came to life once more +I was down upon the floor, +With neighbours making ado +To bring me back to life. 150 +I heard the sexton's wife +Say: 'Up, my lad, and run +To tell it at the Hall; +She was my Lady's nurse, +And done can't be undone. +I'll watch by this poor lamb. +I guess my Lady's purse +Is always open to such: +I'd run up on my crutch +A cripple as I am,' 160 +(For cramps had vexed her much) +'Rather than this dear heart +Lack one to take her part.' + +For days day after day +On my weary bed I lay +Wishing the time would pass; +Oh, so wishing that I was +Likely to pass away: +For the one friend whom I knew +Was dead, I knew no other, 170 +Neither father nor mother; +And I, what should I do? + +One day the sexton's wife +Said: 'Rouse yourself, my dear: +My Lady has driven down +From the Hall into the town, +And we think she's coming here. +Cheer up, for life is life.' + +But I would not look or speak, +Would not cheer up at all. 180 +My tears were like to fall, +So I turned round to the wall +And hid my hollow cheek +Making as if I slept, +As silent as a stone, +And no one knew I wept. +What was my Lady to me, +The grand lady from the Hall? +She might come, or stay away, +I was sick at heart that day: 190 +The whole world seemed to be +Nothing, just nothing to me, +For aught that I could see. + +Yet I listened where I lay: +A bustle came below, +A clear voice said: 'I know; +I will see her first alone, +It may be less of a shock +If she's so weak to-day:'-- +A light hand turned the lock, 200 +A light step crossed the floor, +One sat beside my bed: +But never a word she said. + +For me, my shyness grew +Each moment more and more: +So I said never a word +And neither looked nor stirred; +I think she must have heard +My heart go pit-a-pat: +Thus I lay, my Lady sat, 210 +More than a mortal hour-- +(I counted one and two +By the house-clock while I lay): +I seemed to have no power +To think of a thing to say, +Or do what I ought to do, +Or rouse myself to a choice. + +At last she said: 'Margaret, +Won't you even look at me?' +A something in her voice 220 +Forced my tears to fall at last, +Forced sobs from me thick and fast; +Something not of the past, +Yet stirring memory; +A something new, and yet +Not new, too sweet to last, +Which I never can forget. + +I turned and stared at her: +Her cheek showed hollow-pale; +Her hair like mine was fair, 230 +A wonderful fall of hair +That screened her like a veil; +But her height was statelier, +Her eyes had depth more deep; +I think they must have had +Always a something sad, +Unless they were asleep. + +While I stared, my Lady took +My hand in her spare hand +Jewelled and soft and grand, 240 +And looked with a long long look +Of hunger in my face; +As if she tried to trace +Features she ought to know, +And half hoped, half feared, to find. +Whatever was in her mind +She heaved a sigh at last, +And began to talk to me. + +'Your nurse was my dear nurse, +And her nursling's dear,' said she: 250 +'I never knew that she was worse +Till her poor life was past' +(Here my Lady's tears dropped fast): +'I might have been with her, +But she had no comforter. +She might have told me much +Which now I shall never know, +Never never shall know.' +She sat by me sobbing so, +And seemed so woe-begone, 260 +That I laid one hand upon +Hers with a timid touch, +Scarce thinking what I did, +Not knowing what to say: +That moment her face was hid +In the pillow close by mine, +Her arm was flung over me, +She hugged me, sobbing so +As if her heart would break, +And kissed me where I lay. 270 + +After this she often came +To bring me fruit or wine, +Or sometimes hothouse flowers. +And at nights I lay awake +Often and often thinking +What to do for her sake. +Wet or dry it was the same: +She would come in at all hours, +Set me eating and drinking +And say I must grow strong; 280 +At last the day seemed long +And home seemed scarcely home +If she did not come. + +Well, I grew strong again: +In time of primroses, +I went to pluck them in the lane; +In time of nestling birds, +I heard them chirping round the house; +And all the herds +Were out at grass when I grew strong, 290 +And days were waxen long, +And there was work for bees +Among the May-bush boughs, +And I had shot up tall, +And life felt after all +Pleasant, and not so long +When I grew strong. + +I was going to the Hall +To be my Lady's maid: +'Her little friend,' she said to me, 300 +'Almost her child,' +She said and smiled +Sighing painfully; +Blushing, with a second flush +As if she blushed to blush. + +Friend, servant, child: just this +My standing at the Hall; +The other servants call me 'Miss,' +My Lady calls me 'Margaret,' +With her clear voice musical. 310 +She never chides when I forget +This or that; she never chides. +Except when people come to stay, +(And that's not often) at the Hall, +I sit with her all day +And ride out when she rides. +She sings to me and makes me sing; +Sometimes I read to her, +Sometimes we merely sit and talk. +She noticed once my ring 320 +And made me tell its history: +That evening in our garden walk +She said she should infer +The ring had been my father's first, +Then my mother's, given for me +To the nurse who nursed +My mother in her misery, +That so quite certainly +Some one might know me, who... +Then she was silent, and I too. 330 + +I hate when people come: +The women speak and stare +And mean to be so civil. +This one will stroke my hair, +That one will pat my cheek +And praise my Lady's kindness, +Expecting me to speak; +I like the proud ones best +Who sit as struck with blindness, +As if I wasn't there. 340 +But if any gentleman +Is staying at the Hall +(Though few come prying here), +My Lady seems to fear +Some downright dreadful evil, +And makes me keep my room +As closely as she can: +So I hate when people come, +It is so troublesome. +In spite of all her care, 350 +Sometimes to keep alive +I sometimes do contrive +To get out in the grounds +For a whiff of wholesome air, +Under the rose you know: +It's charming to break bounds, +Stolen waters are sweet, +And what's the good of feet +If for days they mustn't go? +Give me a longer tether, 360 +Or I may break from it. + +Now I have eyes and ears +And just some little wit: +'Almost my Lady's child;' +I recollect she smiled, +Sighed and blushed together; +Then her story of the ring +Sounds not improbable, +She told it me so well +It seemed the actual thing:-- 370 +Oh, keep your counsel close, +But I guess under the rose, +In long past summer weather +When the world was blossoming, +And the rose upon its thorn: +I guess not who he was +Flawed honour like a glass, +And made my life forlorn, +But my Mother, Mother, Mother, +Oh, I know her from all other. 380 + +My Lady, you might trust +Your daughter with your fame. +Trust me, I would not shame +Our honourable name, +For I have noble blood +Though I was bred in dust +And brought up in the mud. +I will not press my claim, +Just leave me where you will: +But you might trust your daughter, 390 +For blood is thicker than water +And you're my mother still. + +So my Lady holds her own +With condescending grace, +and fills her lofty place +With an untroubled face +As a queen may fill a throne. +While I could hint a tale-- +(But then I am her child)-- +Would make her quail; 400 +Would set her in the dust, +Lorn with no comforter, +Her glorious hair defiled +And ashes on her cheek: +The decent world would thrust +Its finger out at her, +Not much displeased I think +To make a nine days' stir; +The decent world would sink +Its voice to speak of her. 410 + +Now this is what I mean +To do, no more, no less: +Never to speak, or show +Bare sign of what I know. +Let the blot pass unseen; +Yea, let her never guess +I hold the tangled clue +She huddles out of view. +Friend, servant, almost child, +So be it and nothing more 420 +On this side of the grave. +Mother, in Paradise, +You'll see with clearer eyes; +Perhaps in this world even +When you are like to die +And face to face with Heaven +You'll drop for once the lie: +But you must drop the mask, not I. + +My Lady promises +Two hundred pounds with me 430 +Whenever I may wed +A man she can approve: +And since besides her bounty +I'm fairest in the county +(For so I've heard it said, +Though I don't vouch for this), +Her promised pounds may move +Some honest man to see +My virtues and my beauties; +Perhaps the rising grazier, 440 +Or temperance publican, +May claim my wifely duties. +Meanwhile I wait their leisure +And grace-bestowing pleasure, +I wait the happy man; +But if I hold my head +And pitch my expectations +Just higher than their level, +They must fall back on patience: +I may not mean to wed, 450 +Yet I'll be civil. + +Now sometimes in a dream +My heart goes out of me +To build and scheme, +Till I sob after things that seem +So pleasant in a dream: +A home such as I see +My blessed neighbours live in +With father and with mother, +All proud of one another, 460 +Named by one common name +From baby in the bud +To full-blown workman father; +It's little short of Heaven. +I'd give my gentle blood +To wash my special shame +And drown my private grudge; +I'd toil and moil much rather +The dingiest cottage drudge +Whose mother need not blush, 470 +Than live here like a lady +And see my Mother flush +And hear her voice unsteady +Sometimes, yet never dare +Ask to share her care. + +Of course the servants sneer +Behind my back at me; +Of course the village girls, +Who envy me my curls +And gowns and idleness, 480 +Take comfort in a jeer; +Of course the ladies guess +Just so much of my history +As points the emphatic stress +With which they laud my Lady; +The gentlemen who catch +A casual glimpse of me +And turn again to see, +Their valets on the watch +To speak a word with me, 490 +All know and sting me wild; +Till I am almost ready +To wish that I were dead, +No faces more to see, +No more words to be said, +My Mother safe at last +Disburdened of her child, +And the past past. + +'All equal before God'-- +Our Rector has it so, 500 +And sundry sleepers nod: +It may be so; I know +All are not equal here, +And when the sleepers wake +They make a difference. +'All equal in the grave'-- +That shows an obvious sense: +Yet something which I crave +Not death itself brings near; +Now should death half atone 510 +For all my past; or make +The name I bear my own? + +I love my dear old Nurse +Who loved me without gains; +I love my mistress even, +Friend, Mother, what you will: +But I could almost curse +My Father for his pains; +And sometimes at my prayer +Kneeling in sight of Heaven 520 +I almost curse him still: +Why did he set his snare +To catch at unaware +My Mother's foolish youth; +Load me with shame that's hers, +And her with something worse, +A lifelong lie for truth? + +I think my mind is fixed +On one point and made up: +To accept my lot unmixed; 530 +Never to drug the cup +But drink it by myself. +I'll not be wooed for pelf; +I'll not blot out my shame +With any man's good name; +But nameless as I stand, +My hand is my own hand, +And nameless as I came +I go to the dark land. + +'All equal in the grave'-- 540 +I bide my time till then: +'All equal before God'-- +To-day I feel His rod, +To-morrow He may save: + Amen. + + + + +DEVOTIONAL PIECES + + + +DESPISED AND REJECTED + + +My sun has set, I dwell +In darkness as a dead man out of sight; +And none remains, not one, that I should tell +To him mine evil plight +This bitter night. +I will make fast my door +That hollow friends may trouble me no more. + +'Friend, open to Me.'--Who is this that calls? +Nay, I am deaf as are my walls: +Cease crying, for I will not hear 10 +Thy cry of hope or fear. +Others were dear, +Others forsook me: what art thou indeed +That I should heed +Thy lamentable need? +Hungry should feed, +Or stranger lodge thee here? + +'Friend, My Feet bleed. +Open thy door to Me and comfort Me.' +I will not open, trouble me no more. 20 +Go on thy way footsore, +I will not rise and open unto thee. + +'Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see +Who stands to plead with thee. +Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou +One day entreat My Face +And howl for grace, +And I be deaf as thou art now. +Open to Me.' + +Then I cried out upon him: Cease, 30 +Leave me in peace: +Fear not that I should crave +Aught thou mayst have. +Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more, +Lest I arise and chase thee from my door. +What, shall I not be let +Alone, that thou dost vex me yet? + +But all night long that voice spake urgently: +'Open to Me.' +Still harping in mine ears: 40 +'Rise, let Me in.' +Pleading with tears: +'Open to Me that I may come to thee.' +While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold: +'My Feet bleed, see My Face, +See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace, +My Heart doth bleed for thee, +Open to Me.' + +So till the break of day: +Then died away 50 +That voice, in silence as of sorrow; +Then footsteps echoing like a sigh +Passed me by, +Lingering footsteps slow to pass. +On the morrow +I saw upon the grass +Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door +The mark of blood for evermore. + + + + +LONG BARREN + + +Thou who didst hang upon a barren tree, +My God, for me; + Though I till now be barren, now at length + Lord, give me strength +To bring forth fruit to Thee. + +Thou who didst bear for me the crown of thorn, +Spitting and scorn; + Though I till now have put forth thorns, yet now + Strengthen me Thou +That better fruit be borne. 10 + +Thou Rose of Sharon, Cedar of broad roots, +Vine of sweet fruits, + Thou Lily of the vale with fadeless leaf, + Of thousands Chief, +Feed Thou my feeble shoots. + + + + +IF ONLY + + +If I might only love my God and die! + But now He bids me love Him and live on, + Now when the bloom of all my life is gone, +The pleasant half of life has quite gone by. +My tree of hope is lopped that spread so high, + And I forget how summer glowed and shone, + While autumn grips me with its fingers wan +And frets me with its fitful windy sigh. +When autumn passes then must winter numb, + And winter may not pass a weary while, 10 + But when it passes spring shall flower again; + And in that spring who weepeth now shall smile, + Yea, they shall wax who now are on the wane, +Yea, they shall sing for love when Christ shall come. + + + + +DOST THOU NOT CARE? + + +I love and love not: Lord, it breaks my heart + To love and not to love. +Thou veiled within Thy glory, gone apart + Into Thy shrine, which is above, +Dost Thou not love me, Lord, or care + For this mine ill?-- +_I love thee here or there, + I will accept thy broken heart, lie still._ + +Lord, it was well with me in time gone by + That cometh not again, 10 +When I was fresh and cheerful, who but I? + I fresh, I cheerful: worn with pain +Now, out of sight and out of heart; + O Lord, how long?-- +_I watch thee as thou art, + I will accept thy fainting heart, be strong._ + +'Lie still,' 'be strong,' to-day; but, Lord, to-morrow, + What of to-morrow, Lord? +Shall there be rest from toil, be truce from sorrow, + Be living green upon the sward 20 +Now but a barren grave to me, + Be joy for sorrow?-- +_Did I not die for thee? + Did I not live for thee? Leave Me to-morrow._ + + + + +WEARY IN WELL-DOING + + +I would have gone; God bade me stay: + I would have worked; God bade me rest. +He broke my will from day to day, + He read my yearnings unexpressed + And said them nay. + +Now I would stay; God bids me go: + Now I would rest; God bids me work. +He breaks my heart tossed to and fro, + My soul is wrung with doubts that lurk + And vex it so. 10 + +I go, Lord, where Thou sendest me; + Day after day I plod and moil: +But, Christ my God, when will it be + That I may let alone my toil + And rest with Thee? + + + + +MARTYRS' SONG + + +We meet in joy, though we part in sorrow; +We part to-night, but we meet to-morrow. +Be it flood or blood the path that's trod, +All the same it leads home to God: +Be it furnace-fire voluminous, +One like God's Son will walk with us. + +What are these that glow from afar, +These that lean over the golden bar, +Strong as the lion, pure as the dove, +With open arms and hearts of love? 10 +They the blessed ones gone before, +They the blessed for evermore. +Out of great tribulation they went +Home to their home of Heaven-content; +Through flood, or blood, or furnace-fire, +To the rest that fulfils desire. + +What are these that fly as a cloud, +With flashing heads and faces bowed, +In their mouths a victorious psalm, +In their hands a robe and palm? 20 +Welcoming angels these that shine, +Your own angel, and yours, and mine; +Who have hedged us, both day and night +On the left hand and the right, +Who have watched us both night and day +Because the devil keeps watch to slay. + +Light above light, and Bliss beyond bliss, +Whom words cannot utter, lo, Who is This? +As a King with many crowns He stands, +And our names are graven upon His hands; 30 +As a Priest, with God-uplifted eyes, +He offers for us His sacrifice; +As the Lamb of God for sinners slain, +That we too may live He lives again; +As our Champion behold Him stand, +Strong to save us, at God's Right Hand. + +God the Father give us grace +To walk in the light of Jesus' Face. +God the Son give us a part +In the hiding-place of Jesus' Heart: 40 +God the Spirit so hold us up +That we may drink of Jesus' cup; + +Death is short and life is long; +Satan is strong, but Christ more strong. +At His Word, Who hath led us hither. +The Red Sea must part hither and thither. +As His Word, Who goes before us too, +Jordan must cleave to let us through. + +Yet one pang searching and sore, +And then Heaven for evermore; 50 +Yet one moment awful and dark, +Then safety within the Veil and the Ark; +Yet one effort by Christ His grace, +Then Christ for ever face to face. + +God the Father we will adore, +In Jesus' Name, now and evermore: +God the Son we will love and thank +In this flood and on the further bank: +God the Holy Ghost we will praise +In Jesus' Name, through endless days: 60 +God Almighty, God Three in One, +God Almighty, God alone. + + + + +AFTER THIS THE JUDGEMENT + + +As eager homebound traveller to the goal, + Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main, +Or martyr panting for an aureole, + My fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attain +That hidden mansion of perpetual peace + Where keen desire and hope dwell free from pain: +That gate stands open of perennial ease; + I view the glory till I partly long, +Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these. + O passing Angel, speed me with a song, 10 +A melody of heaven to reach my heart + And rouse me to the race and make me strong; +Till in such music I take up my part + Swelling those Hallelujahs full of rest, +One, tenfold, hundredfold, with heavenly art, + Fulfilling north and south and east and west, +Thousand, ten thousandfold, innumerable, + All blent in one yet each one manifest; +Each one distinguished and beloved as well + As if no second voice in earth or heaven 20 +Were lifted up the Love of God to tell. + Ah, Love of God, which Thine own Self hast given +To me most poor, and made me rich in love, + Love that dost pass the tenfold seven times seven, +Draw Thou mine eyes, draw Thou my heart above, + My treasure ad my heart store Thou in Thee, +Brood over me with yearnings of a dove; + Be Husband, Brother, closest Friend to me; +Love me as very mother loves her son, + Her sucking firstborn fondled on her knee: 30 +Yea, more than mother loves her little one; + For, earthly, even a mother may forget +And feel no pity for its piteous moan; + But thou, O Love of God, remember yet, +Through the dry desert, through the waterflood + (Life, death) until the Great White Throne is set. +If now I am sick in chewing the bitter cud + Of sweet past sin, though solaced by Thy grace +And ofttimes strengthened by Thy Flesh and Blood, + How shall I then stand up before Thy face 40 +When from Thine eyes repentance shall be hid + And utmost Justice stand in Mercy's place: +When every sin I thought or spoke or did + Shall meet me at the inexorable bar, +And there be no man standing in the mid + To plead for me; while star fallen after star +With heaven and earth are like a ripened shock, + And all time's mighty works and wonders are +Consumed as in a moment; when no rock + Remains to fall on me, no tree to hide, 50 +But I stand all creation's gazing-stock + Exposed and comfortless on every side, +Placed trembling in the final balances + Whose poise this hour, this moment, must be tried?-- +Ah Love of God, if greater love than this + Hath no man, that a man die for his friend, +And if such love of love Thine Own Love is, + Plead with Thyself, with me, before the end; +Redeem me from the irrevocable past; + Pitch Thou Thy Presence round me to defend; 60 +Yea seek with pierced feet, yea hold me fast + With pierced hands whose wounds were made by love; +Not what I am, remember what Thou wast + When darkness hid from Thee Thy heavens above, +And sin Thy Father's Face, while thou didst drink + The bitter cup of death, didst taste thereof +For every man; while Thou wast nigh to sink + Beneath the intense intolerable rod, +Grown sick of love; not what I am, but think + Thy Life then ransomed mine, my God, my God. 70 + + + + +GOOD FRIDAY + + +Am I a stone and not a sheep + That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross, + To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss, +And yet not weep? + +Not so those women loved + Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee; + Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly; +Not so the thief was moved; + +Not so the Sun and Moon + Which hid their faces in a starless sky, 10 + A horror of great darkness at broad noon-- +I, only I. + +Yet give not o'er, + But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock; + Greater than Moses, turn and look once more +And smite a rock. + + + + +THE LOWEST PLACE + + +Give me the lowest place: not that I dare + Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died +That I might live and share + Thy glory by Thy side. + +Give me the lowest place: or if for me + That lowest place too high, make one more low +Where I may sit and see + My God and love Thee so. + + + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 1848-69 + + + + +DEATH'S CHILL BETWEEN + +(_Athenaeum_, October 14, 1848) + + +Chide not; let me breathe a little, + For I shall not mourn him long; +Though the life-cord was so brittle, + The love-cord was very strong. +I would wake a little space +Till I find a sleeping-place. + +You can go,--I shall not weep; + You can go unto your rest. +My heart-ache is all too deep, + And too sore my throbbing breast. 10 +Can sobs be, or angry tears, +Where are neither hopes nor fears? + +Though with you I am alone + And must be so everywhere, +I will make no useless moan,-- + None shall say 'She could not bear:' +While life lasts I will be strong,-- +But I shall not struggle long. + +Listen, listen! Everywhere + A low voice is calling me, 20 +And a step is on the stair, + And one comes ye do not see, +Listen, listen! Evermore +A dim hand knocks at the door. + +Hear me; he is come again,-- + My own dearest is come back. +Bring him in from the cold rain; + Bring wine, and let nothing lack. +Thou and I will rest together, +Love, until the sunny weather. 30 + +I will shelter thee from harm,-- + Hide thee from all heaviness. +Come to me, and keep thee warm + By my side in quietness. +I will lull thee to thy sleep +With sweet songs:--we will not weep. + +Who hath talked of weeping?--Yet + There is something at my heart, +Gnawing, I would fain forget, + And an aching and a smart. 40 +--Ah! my mother, 'tis in vain, +For he is _not_ come again. + + + + +HEART'S CHILL BETWEEN + +(_Athenaeum_, October 21, 1848) + + +I did not chide him, though I knew + That he was false to me. +Chide the exhaling of the dew, + The ebbing of the sea, +The fading of a rosy hue,-- + But not inconstancy. + +Why strive for love when love is o'er? + Why bind a restive heart?-- +He never knew the pain I bore + In saying: 'We must part; 10 +Let us be friends and nothing more.' + --Oh, woman's shallow art! + +But it is over, it is done,-- + I hardly heed it now; +So many weary years have run + Since then, I think not how +Things might have been,--but greet each one + With an unruffled brow. + +What time I am where others be, + My heart seems very calm-- 20 +Stone calm; but if all go from me, + There comes a vague alarm, +A shrinking in the memory + From some forgotten harm. + +And often through the long, long night, + Waking when none are near, +I feel my heart beat fast with fright, + Yet know not what I fear. +Oh how I long to see the light, + And the sweet birds to hear! 30 + +To have the sun upon my face, + To look up through the trees, +To walk forth in the open space + And listen to the breeze,-- +And not to dream the burial-place + Is clogging my weak knees. + +Sometimes I can nor weep nor pray, + But am half stupefied: +And then all those who see me say + Mine eyes are opened wide 40 +And that my wits seem gone away-- + Ah, would that I had died! + +Would I could die and be at peace, + Or living could forget! +My grief nor grows nor doth decrease, + But ever is:--and yet +Methinks, now, that all this shall cease + Before the sun shall set. + + + + +REPINING + +(_Art and Poetry_ [_The Germ_, No. 3], March 1850) + + +She sat alway thro' the long day +Spinning the weary thread away; +And ever said in undertone: +'Come, that I be no more alone.' + +From early dawn to set of sun +Working, her task was still undone; +And the long thread seemed to increase +Even while she spun and did not cease. +She heard the gentle turtle-dove +Tell to its mate a tale of love; 10 +She saw the glancing swallows fly, +Ever a social company; +She knew each bird upon its nest +Had cheering songs to bring it rest; +None lived alone save only she;-- +The wheel went round more wearily; +She wept and said in undertone: +'Come, that I be no more alone.' + +Day followed day, and still she sighed +For love, and was not satisfied; 20 +Until one night, when the moonlight +Turned all the trees to silver white, +She heard, what ne'er she heard before, +A steady hand undo the door. +The nightingale since set of sun +Her throbbing music had not done, +And she had listened silently; +But now the wind had changed, and she +Heard the sweet song no more, but heard +Beside her bed a whispered word: 30 +'Damsel, rise up; be not afraid; +For I am come at last,' it said. + +She trembled, tho' the voice was mild; +She trembled like a frightened child;-- +Till she looked up, and then she saw +The unknown speaker without awe. +He seemed a fair young man, his eyes +Beaming with serious charities; +His cheek was white but hardly pale; +And a dim glory like a veil 40 +Hovered about his head, and shone +Thro' the whole room till night was gone. + +So her fear fled; and then she said, +Leaning upon her quiet bed: +'Now thou art come, I prithee stay, +That I may see thee in the day, +And learn to know thy voice, and hear +It evermore calling me near.' + +He answered: 'Rise, and follow me.' +But she looked upwards wonderingly: 50 +'And whither would'st thou go, friend? stay +Until the dawning of the day.' +But he said: 'The wind ceaseth, Maid; +Of chill nor damp be thou afraid.' + +She bound her hair up from the floor, +And passed in silence from the door. + +So they went forth together, he +Helping her forward tenderly. +The hedges bowed beneath his hand; +Forth from the streams came the dry land 60 +As they passed over; evermore +The pallid moonbeams shone before; +And the wind hushed, and nothing stirred; +Not even a solitary bird, +Scared by their footsteps, fluttered by +Where aspen-trees stood steadily. + +As they went on, at length a sound +Came trembling on the air around; +The undistinguishable hum +Of life, voices that go and come 70 +Of busy men, and the child's sweet +High laugh, and noise of trampling feet. + +Then he said: 'Wilt thou go and see?' +And she made answer joyfully: +'The noise of life, of human life, +Of dear communion without strife, +Of converse held 'twixt friend and friend; +Is it not here our path shall end?' +He led her on a little way +Until they reached a hillock: 'Stay.' 80 + +It was a village in a plain. +High mountains screened it from the rain +And stormy wind; and nigh at hand +A bubbling streamlet flowed, o'er sand +Pebbly and fine, and sent life up +Green succous stalk and flower-cup. + +Gradually, day's harbinger, +A chilly wind began to stir. +It seemed a gentle powerless breeze +That scarcely rustled thro' the trees; 90 +And yet it touched the mountain's head +And the paths man might never tread. +But hearken: in the quiet weather +Do all the streams flow down together?-- + +No, 'tis a sound more terrible +Than tho' a thousand rivers fell. +The everlasting ice and snow +Were loosened then, but not to flow;-- +With a loud crash like solid thunder +The avalanche came, burying under 100 +The village; turning life and breath +And rest and joy and plans to death. + +'Oh! let us fly, for pity fly; +Let us go hence, friend, thou and I. +There must be many regions yet +Where these things make not desolate.' +He looked upon her seriously; +Then said: 'Arise and follow me.' +The path that lay before them was +Nigh covered over with long grass; 110 +And many slimy things and slow +Trailed on between the roots below. +The moon looked dimmer than before; +And shadowy cloudlets floating o'er +Its face sometimes quite hid its light, +And filled the skies with deeper night. + +At last, as they went on, the noise +Was heard of the sea's mighty voice; +And soon the ocean could be seen +In its long restlessness serene. 120 +Upon its breast a vessel rode +That drowsily appeared to nod +As the great billows rose and fell, +And swelled to sink, and sank to swell. + +Meanwhile the strong wind had come forth +From the chill regions of the North, +The mighty wind invisible. +And the low waves began to swell; +And the sky darkened overhead; +And the moon once looked forth, then fled 130 +Behind dark clouds; while here and there +The lightning shone out in the air; +And the approaching thunder rolled +With angry pealings manifold. +How many vows were made, and prayers +That in safe times were cold and scarce. +Still all availed not; and at length +The waves arose in all their strength, +And fought against the ship, and filled +The ship. Then were the clouds unsealed, 140 +And the rain hurried forth, and beat +On every side and over it. + +Some clung together, and some kept +A long stern silence, and some wept. +Many half-crazed looked on in wonder +As the strong timbers rent asunder; +Friends forgot friends, foes fled to foes;-- +And still the water rose and rose. + +'Ah woe is me! Whom I have seen +Are now as tho' they had not been. 150 +In the earth there is room for birth, +And there are graves enough in earth; +Why should the cold sea, tempest-torn, +Bury those whom it hath not borne?' + +He answered not, and they went on. +The glory of the heavens was gone; +The moon gleamed not nor any star; +Cold winds were rustling near and far, +And from the trees the dry leaves fell +With a sad sound unspeakable. 160 +The air was cold; till from the South +A gust blew hot, like sudden drouth, +Into their faces; and a light +Glowing and red, shone thro' the night. + +A mighty city full of flame +And death and sounds without a name. +Amid the black and blinding smoke, +The people, as one man, awoke. +Oh! happy they who yesterday +On the long journey went away; 170 +Whose pallid lips, smiling and chill, +While the flames scorch them smile on still; +Who murmur not; who tremble not +When the bier crackles fiery hot; +Who, dying, said in love's increase: +'Lord, let thy servant part in peace.' + +Those in the town could see and hear +A shaded river flowing near; +The broad deep bed could hardly hold +Its plenteous waters calm and cold. 180 +Was flame-wrapped all the city wall, +The city gates were flame-wrapped all. + +What was man's strength, what puissance then? +Women were mighty as strong men. +Some knelt in prayer, believing still, +Resigned unto a righteous will, +Bowing beneath the chastening rod, +Lost to the world, but found of God. +Some prayed for friend, for child, for wife; +Some prayed for faith; some prayed for life; 190 +While some, proud even in death, hope gone, +Steadfast and still, stood looking on. + +'Death--death--oh! let us fly from death; +Where'er we go it followeth; +All these are dead; and we alone +Remain to weep for what is gone. +What is this thing? thus hurriedly +To pass into eternity; +To leave the earth so full of mirth; +To lose the profit of our birth; 200 +To die and be no more; to cease, +Having numbness that is not peace. +Let us go hence; and, even if thus +Death everywhere must go with us, +Let us not see the change, but see +Those who have been or still shall be.' + +He sighed and they went on together; +Beneath their feet did the grass wither; +Across the heaven high overhead +Dark misty clouds floated and fled; 210 +And in their bosom was the thunder, +And angry lightnings flashed out under, +Forked and red and menacing; +Far off the wind was muttering; +It seemed to tell, not understood, +Strange secrets to the listening wood. + +Upon its wings it bore the scent +Of blood of a great armament: +Then saw they how on either side +Fields were down-trodden far and wide. 220 +That morning at the break of day +Two nations had gone forth to slay. + +As a man soweth so he reaps. +The field was full of bleeding heaps; +Ghastly corpses of men and horses +That met death at a thousand sources; +Cold limbs and putrifying flesh; +Long love-locks clotted to a mesh +That stifled; stiffened mouths beneath +Staring eyes that had looked on death. 230 + +But these were dead: these felt no more +The anguish of the wounds they bore. +Behold, they shall not sigh again, +Nor justly fear, nor hope in vain. +What if none wept above them?--is +The sleeper less at rest for this? +Is not the young child's slumber sweet +When no man watcheth over it? +These had deep calm; but all around +There was a deadly smothered sound, 240 +The choking cry of agony +From wounded men who could not die; +Who watched the black wing of the raven +Rise like a cloud 'twixt them and heaven, +And in the distance flying fast +Beheld the eagle come at last. + +She knelt down in her agony: +'O Lord, it is enough,' said she: +'My heart's prayer putteth me to shame; +Let me return to whence I came. 250 +Thou for who love's sake didst reprove, +Forgive me for the sake of love.' + + + + +SIT DOWN IN THE LOWEST ROOM + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1864.) + + +Like flowers sequestered from the sun + And wind of summer, day by day +I dwindled paler, whilst my hair + Showed the first tinge of grey. + +'Oh what is life, that we should live? + Or what is death, that we must die? +A bursting bubble is our life: + I also, what am I?' + +'What is your grief? now tell me, sweet, + That I may grieve,' my sister said; 10 +And stayed a white embroidering hand + And raised a golden head: + +Her tresses showed a richer mass, + Her eyes looked softer than my own, +Her figure had a statelier height, + Her voice a tenderer tone. + +'Some must be second and not first; + All cannot be the first of all: +Is not this, too, but vanity? + I stumble like to fall. 20 + +'So yesterday I read the acts + Of Hector and each clangorous king +With wrathful great Aeacides:-- + Old Homer leaves a sting.' + +The comely face looked up again, + The deft hand lingered on the thread: +'Sweet, tell me what is Homer's sting, + Old Homer's sting?' she said. + +'He stirs my sluggish pulse like wine, + He melts me like the wind of spice, 30 +Strong as strong Ajax' red right hand, + And grand like Juno's eyes. + +'I cannot melt the sons of men, + I cannot fire and tempest-toss:-- +Besides, those days were golden days, + Whilst these are days of dross.' + +She laughed a feminine low laugh, + Yet did not stay her dexterous hand: +'Now tell me of those days,' she said, + 'When time ran golden sand.' 40 + +'Then men were men of might and right, + Sheer might, at least, and weighty swords; +Then men in open blood and fire, + Bore witness to their words, + +'Crest-rearing kings with whistling spears; + But if these shivered in the shock +They wrenched up hundred-rooted trees, + Or hurled the effacing rock. + +'Then hand to hand, then foot to foot, + Stern to the death-grip grappling then, 50 +Who ever thought of gunpowder + Amongst these men of men? + +'They knew whose hand struck home the death, + They knew who broke but would not bend, +Could venerate an equal foe + And scorn a laggard friend. + +'Calm in the utmost stress of doom, + Devout toward adverse powers above, +They hated with intenser hate + And loved with fuller love. 60 + +'Then heavenly beauty could allay + As heavenly beauty stirred the strife: +By them a slave was worshipped more + Than is by us a wife.' + +She laughed again, my sister laughed, + Made answer o'er the laboured cloth: +'I would rather be one of us + Than wife, or slave, or both.' + +'Oh better then be slave or wife + Than fritter now blank life away: 70 +Then night had holiness of night, + And day was sacred day. + +'The princess laboured at her loom, + Mistress and handmaiden alike; +Beneath their needles grew the field + With warriors armed to strike. + +'Or, look again, dim Dian's face + Gleamed perfect through the attendant night; +Were such not better than those holes + Amid that waste of white? 80 + +'A shame it is, our aimless life: + I rather from my heart would feed +From silver dish in gilded stall + With wheat and wine the steed-- + +'The faithful steed that bore my lord + In safety through the hostile land, +The faithful steed that arched his neck + To fondle with my hand.' + +Her needle erred; a moment's pause, + A moment's patience, all was well. 90 +Then she: 'But just suppose the horse, + Suppose the rider fell? + +'Then captive in an alien house, + Hungering on exile's bitter bread,-- +They happy, they who won the lot + Of sacrifice,' she said. + +Speaking she faltered, while her look + Showed forth her passion like a glass: +With hand suspended, kindling eye, + Flushed cheek, how fair she was! 100 + +'Ah well, be those the days of dross; + This, if you will, the age of gold: +Yet had those days a spark of warmth, + While these are somewhat cold-- + +'Are somewhat mean and cold and slow, + Are stunted from heroic growth: +We gain but little when we prove + The worthlessness of both.' + +'But life is in our hands,' she said: + 'In our own hands for gain or loss: 110 +Shall not the Sevenfold Sacred Fire + Suffice to purge our dross? + +'Too short a century of dreams, + One day of work sufficient length: +Why should not you, why should not I + Attain heroic strength? + +'Our life is given us as a blank; + Ourselves must make it blest or curst: +Who dooms me I shall only be + The second, not the first? 120 + +'Learn from old Homer, if you will, + Such wisdom as his books have said: +In one the acts of Ajax shine, + In one of Diomed. + +'Honoured all heroes whose high deeds + Thro' life, till death, enlarge their span: +Only Achilles in his rage + And sloth is less than man.' + +'Achilles only less than man? + He less than man who, half a god, 130 +Discomfited all Greece with rest, + Cowed Ilion with a nod? + +'He offered vengeance, lifelong grief + To one dear ghost, uncounted price: +Beasts, Trojans, adverse gods, himself, + Heaped up the sacrifice. + +'Self-immolated to his friend, + Shrined in world's wonder, Homer's page, +Is this the man, the less than men, + Of this degenerate age?' 140 + +'Gross from his acorns, tusky boar + Does memorable acts like his; +So for her snared offended young + Bleeds the swart lioness.' + +But here she paused; our eyes had met, + And I was whitening with the jeer; +She rose: 'I went too far,' she said; + Spoke low: 'Forgive me, dear. + +'To me our days seem pleasant days, + Our home a haven of pure content; 150 +Forgive me if I said too much, + So much more than I meant. + +'Homer, tho' greater than his gods, + With rough-hewn virtues was sufficed +And rough-hewn men: but what are such + To us who learn of Christ?' + +The much-moved pathos of her voice, + Her almost tearful eyes, her cheek +Grown pale, confessed the strength of love + Which only made her speak: 160 + +For mild she was, of few soft words, + Most gentle, easy to be led, +Content to listen when I spoke + And reverence what I said; + +I elder sister by six years; + Not half so glad, or wise, or good: +Her words rebuked my secret self + And shamed me where I stood. + +She never guessed her words reproved + A silent envy nursed within, 170 +A selfish, souring discontent + Pride-born, the devil's sin. + +I smiled, half bitter, half in jest: + 'The wisest man of all the wise +Left for his summary of life + "Vanity of vanities." + +'Beneath the sun there's nothing new: + Men flow, men ebb, mankind flows on: +If I am wearied of my life, + Why so was Solomon. 180 + +'Vanity of vanities he preached + Of all he found, of all he sought: +Vanity of vanities, the gist + Of all the words he taught. + +'This in the wisdom of the world, + In Homer's page, in all, we find: +As the sea is not filled, so yearns + Man's universal mind. + +'This Homer felt, who gave his men + With glory but a transient state: 190 +His very Jove could not reverse + Irrevocable fate. + +'Uncertain all their lot save this-- + Who wins must lose, who lives must die: +All trodden out into the dark + Alike, all vanity.' + +She scarcely answered when I paused, + But rather to herself said: 'One +Is here,' low-voiced and loving, 'Yea, + Greater than Solomon.' 200 + +So both were silent, she and I: + She laid her work aside, and went +Into the garden-walks, like spring, + All gracious with content, + +A little graver than her wont, + Because her words had fretted me; +Not warbling quite her merriest tune + Bird-like from tree to tree. + +I chose a book to read and dream: + Yet half the while with furtive eyes 210 +Marked how she made her choice of flowers + Intuitively wise, + +And ranged them with instinctive taste + Which all my books had failed to teach; +Fresh rose herself, and daintier + Than blossom of the peach. + +By birthright higher than myself, + Tho' nestling of the self-same nest: +No fault of hers, no fault of mine, + But stubborn to digest. 220 + +I watched her, till my book unmarked + Slid noiseless to the velvet floor; +Till all the opulent summer-world + Looked poorer than before. + +Just then her busy fingers ceased, + Her fluttered colour went and came; +I knew whose step was on the walk, + Whose voice would name her name. + +* * * * * * * + +Well, twenty years have passed since then: + My sister now, a stately wife 230 +Still fair, looks back in peace and sees + The longer half of life-- + +The longer half of prosperous life, + With little grief, or fear, or fret: +She loved, and, loving long ago, + Is loved and loving yet. + +A husband honourable, brave, + Is her main wealth in all the world: +And next to him one like herself, + One daughter golden-curled; 240 + +Fair image of her own fair youth, + As beautiful and as serene, +With almost such another love + As her own love has been. + +Yet, tho' of world-wide charity, + And in her home most tender dove, +Her treasure and her heart are stored + In the home-land of love: + +She thrives, God's blessed husbandry; + She like a vine is full of fruit; 250 +Her passion-flower climbs up toward heaven + Tho' earth still binds its root. + +I sit and watch my sister's face: + How little altered since the hours +When she, a kind, light-hearted girl, + Gathered her garden flowers; + +Her song just mellowed by regret + For having teased me with her talk; +Then all-forgetful as she heard + One step upon the walk. 260 + +While I? I sat alone and watched + My lot in life, to live alone, +In mine own world of interests, + Much felt but little shown. + +Not to be first: how hard to learn + That lifelong lesson of the past; +Line graven on line and stroke on stroke; + But, thank God, learned at last. + +So now in patience I possess + My soul year after tedious year, 270 +Content to take the lowest place, + The place assigned me here. + +Yet sometimes, when I feel my strength + Most weak, and life most burdensome, +I lift mine eyes up to the hills + From whence my help shall come: + +Yea, sometimes still I lift my heart + To the Archangelic trumpet-burst, +When all deep secrets shall be shown, + And many last be first. 280 + + + + +MY FRIEND + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, Dec. 1864.) + + +Two days ago with dancing glancing hair, + With living lips and eyes: + Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies; +So pale, yet still so fair. + +We have not left her yet, not yet alone; + But soon must leave her where + She will not miss our care, +Bone of our bone. + +Weep not; O friends, we should not weep: + Our friend of friends lies full of rest; 10 + No sorrow rankles in her breast, +Fallen fast asleep. + +She sleeps below, + She wakes and laughs above: + To-day, as she walked, let us walk in love; +To-morrow follow so. + + + + +LAST NIGHT + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, May 1865.) + + +Where were you last night? I watched at the gate; +I went down early, I stayed down late. + Were you snug at home, I should like to know, +Or were you in the coppice wheedling Kate? + +She's a fine girl, with a fine clear skin; +Easy to woo, perhaps not hard to win. + Speak up like a man and tell me the truth: +I'm not one to grow downhearted and thin. + +If you love her best speak up like a man; +It's not I will stand in the light of your plan: 10 + Some girls might cry and scold you a bit, +And say they couldn't bear it; but I can. + +Love was pleasant enough, and the days went fast; +Pleasant while it lasted, but it needn't last; + Awhile on the wax and awhile on the wane, +Now dropped away into the past. + +Was it pleasant to you? To me it was; +Now clean gone as an image from glass, + As a goodly rainbow that fades away, +As dew that steams upward from the grass, 20 + +As the first spring day, or the last summer day, +As the sunset flush that leaves heaven grey, + As a flame burnt out for lack of oil, +Which no pains relight or ever may. + +Good luck to Kate and good luck to you: +I guess she'll be kind when you come to woo. + I wish her a pretty face that will last, +I wish her a husband steady and true. + +Hate you? not I, my very good friend; +All things begin and all have an end. 30 + But let broken be broken; I put no faith +In quacks who set up to patch and mend. + +Just my love and one word to Kate: +Not to let time slip if she means to mate;-- + For even such a thing has been known +As to miss the chance while we weigh and wait. + + + + +CONSIDER + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, Jan. 1866.) + + + Consider +The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:-- + We are as they; + Like them we fade away, +As doth a leaf. + + Consider +The sparrows of the air of small account: + Our God doth view +Whether they fall or mount,-- + He guards us too. 10 + + Consider +The lilies that do neither spin nor toil, + Yet are most fair:-- + What profits all this care +And all this coil? + + Consider +The birds that have no barn nor harvest-weeks; + God gives them food:-- +Much more our Father seeks + To do us good. 20 + + + + +HELEN GREY + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1866.) + + +Because one loves you, Helen Grey, + Is that a reason you should pout, + And like a March wind veer about, +And frown, and say your shrewish say? +Don't strain the cord until it snaps, + Don't split the sound heart with your wedge, + Don't cut your fingers with the edge +Of your keen wit; you may, perhaps. + +Because you're handsome, Helen Grey, + Is that a reason to be proud? 10 + Your eyes are bold, your laugh is loud, +Your steps go mincing on their way; +But so you miss that modest charm + Which is the surest charm of all: + Take heed, you yet may trip and fall, +And no man care to stretch his arm. + +Stoop from your cold height, Helen Grey, + Come down, and take a lowlier place; + Come down, to fill it now with grace; +Come down you must perforce some day: 20 +For years cannot be kept at bay, + And fading years will make you old; + Then in their turn will men seem cold, +When you yourself are nipped and grey. + + + + +BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON + +B.C. 570 + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, October 1866.) + + +Here where I dwell I waste to skin and bone; + The curse is come upon me, and I waste + In penal torment powerless to atone. +The curse is come on me, which makes no haste + And doth not tarry, crushing both the proud + Hard man and him the sinner double-faced. +Look not upon me, for my soul is bowed + Within me, as my body in this mire; + My soul crawls dumb-struck, sore-bested and cowed. +As Sodom and Gomorrah scourged by fire, 10 + As Jericho before God's trumpet-peal, + So we the elect ones perish in His ire. +Vainly we gird on sackcloth, vainly kneel + With famished faces toward Jerusalem: + His heart is shut against us not to feel, +His ears against our cry He shutteth them, + His hand He shorteneth that He will not save, + His law is loud against us to condemn: +And we, as unclean bodies in the grave + Inheriting corruption and the dark, 20 + Are outcast from His presence which we crave. +Our Mercy hath departed from His Ark, + Our Glory hath departed from His rest, + Our Shield hath left us naked as a mark +Unto all pitiless eyes made manifest. + Our very Father hath forsaken us, + Our God hath cast us from Him: we oppressed +Unto our foes are even marvellous, + A hissing and a butt for pointing hands, + Whilst God Almighty hunts and grinds us thus; 30 +For He hath scattered us in alien lands, + Our priests, our princes, our anointed king, + And bound us hand and foot with brazen bands. +Here while I sit my painful heart takes wing + Home to the home-land I must see no more, + Where milk and honey flow, where waters spring +And fail not, where I dwelt in days of yore + Under my fig-tree and my fruitful vine, + There where my parents dwelt at ease before: +Now strangers press the olives that are mine, 40 + Reap all the corners of my harvest-field, + And make their fat hearts wanton with my wine; +To them my trees, to them my garden yield + Their sweets and spices and their tender green, + O'er them in noontide heat outspread their shield. +Yet these are they whose fathers had not been + Housed with my dogs, whom hip and thigh we smote + And with their blood washed their pollutions clean, +Purging the land which spewed them from its throat; + Their daughters took we for a pleasant prey, 50 + Choice tender ones on whom the fathers doat. +Now they in turn have led our own away; + Our daughters and our sisters and our wives + Sore weeping as they weep who curse the day, +To live, remote from help, dishonoured lives, + Soothing their drunken masters with a song, + Or dancing in their golden tinkling gyves: +Accurst if they remember through the long + Estrangement of their exile, twice accursed + If they forget and join the accursed throng. 60 +How doth my heart that is so wrung not burst + When I remember that my way was plain, + And that God's candle lit me at the first, +Whilst now I grope in darkness, grope in vain, + Desiring but to find Him Who is lost, + To find Him once again, but once again. +His wrath came on us to the uttermost, + His covenanted and most righteous wrath: + Yet this is He of Whom we made our boast, +Who lit the Fiery Pillar in our path, 70 + Who swept the Red Sea dry before our feet, + Who in His jealousy smote kings, and hath +Sworn once to David: One shall fill thy seat + Born of thy body, as the sun and moon + 'Stablished for aye in sovereignty complete. +O Lord, remember David, and that soon. + The Glory hath departed, Ichabod! + Yet now, before our sun grow dark at noon, +Before we come to nought beneath Thy rod, + Before we go down quick into the pit, 80 + Remember us for good, O God, our God:-- +Thy Name will I remember, praising it, + Though Thou forget me, though Thou hide Thy face, + And blot me from the Book which Thou hast writ; +Thy Name will I remember in my praise + And call to mind Thy faithfulness of old, +Though as a weaver Thou cut off my days, + And end me as a tale ends that is told. + + + + +SEASONS + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, Dec. 1866.) + + +Oh the cheerful Budding-time! + When thorn-hedges turn to green, +When new leaves of elm and lime + Cleave and shed their winter screen; +Tender lambs are born and 'baa,' + North wind finds no snow to bring, +Vigorous Nature laughs 'Ha, ha,' + In the miracle of spring. + +Oh the gorgeous Blossom-days! + When broad flag-flowers drink and blow, 10 +In and out in summer-blaze + Dragon-flies flash to and fro; +Ashen branches hang out keys, + Oaks put forth the rosy shoot, +Wandering herds wax sleek at ease, + Lovely blossoms end in fruit. + +Oh the shouting Harvest-weeks! + Mother earth grown fat with sheaves +Thrifty gleaner finds who seeks; + Russet-golden pomp of leaves 20 +Crowns the woods, to fall at length; + Bracing winds are felt to stir, +Ocean gathers up her strength, + Beasts renew their dwindled fur. + +Oh the starving Winter-lapse! + Ice-bound, hunger-pinched and dim; +Dormant roots recall their saps, + Empty nests show black and grim, +Short-lived sunshine gives no heat, + Undue buds are nipped by frost, 30 +Snow sets forth a winding-sheet, + And all hope of life seems lost. + + + + +MOTHER COUNTRY + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1868.) + + +Oh what is that country + And where can it be, +Not mine own country, + But dearer far to me? +Yet mine own country, + If I one day may see +Its spices and cedars, + Its gold and ivory. + +As I lie dreaming + It rises, that land: 10 +There rises before me + Its green golden strand, +With its bowing cedars + And its shining sand; +It sparkles and flashes + Like a shaken brand. + +Do angels lean nearer + While I lie and long? +I see their soft plumage + And catch their windy song, 20 +Like the rise of a high tide + Sweeping full and strong; +I mark the outskirts + Of their reverend throng. + +Oh what is a king here, + Or what is a boor? +Here all starve together, + All dwarfed and poor; +Here Death's hand knocketh + At door after door, 30 +He thins the dancers + From the festal floor. + +Oh what is a handmaid, + Or what is a queen? +All must lie down together + Where the turf is green, +The foulest face hidden, + The fairest not seen; +Gone as if never, + They had breathed or been. 40 + +Gone from sweet sunshine + Underneath the sod, +Turned from warm flesh and blood + To senseless clod, +Gone as if never + They had toiled or trod, +Gone out of sight of all + Except our God. + +Shut into silence + From the accustomed song, 50 +Shut into solitude + From all earth's throng, +Run down tho' swift of foot, + Thrust down tho' strong; +Life made an end of + Seemed it short or long. + +Life made an end of, + Life but just begun, +Life finished yesterday, + Its last sand run; 60 +Life new-born with the morrow, + Fresh as the sun: +While done is done for ever; + Undone, undone. + +And if that life is life, + This is but a breath, +The passage of a dream + And the shadow of death; +But a vain shadow + If one considereth; 70 +Vanity of vanities, + As the Preacher saith. + + + + +A SMILE AND A SIGH + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, May 1868.) + + +A smile because the nights are short! + And every morning brings such pleasure +Of sweet love-making, harmless sport: + Love, that makes and finds its treasure; + Love, treasure without measure. + +A sigh because the days are long! + Long long these days that pass in sighing, +A burden saddens every song: + While time lags who should be flying, + We live who would be dying. + + + + +DEAD HOPE + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, May 1868.) + + +Hope new born one pleasant morn + Died at even; +Hope dead lives nevermore. + No, not in heaven. + +If his shroud were but a cloud + To weep itself away; +Or were he buried underground + To sprout some day! +But dead and gone is dead and gone + Vainly wept upon. 10 + +Nought we place above his face + To mark the spot, +But it shows a barren place + In our lot. +Hope has birth no more on earth + Morn or even; +Hope dead lives nevermore, + No, not in heaven. + + + + +AUTUMN VIOLETS + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, November 1868.) + + +Keep love for youth, and violets for the spring: +Of if these bloom when worn-out autumn grieves, +Let them lie hid in double shade of leaves, +Their own, and others dropped down withering; +For violets suit when home birds build and sing, +Not when the outbound bird a passage cleaves; +Not with dry stubble of mown harvest sheaves, +But when the green world buds to blossoming. +Keep violets for the spring, and love for youth, +Love that should dwell with beauty, mirth, and hope: +Or if a later sadder love be born, +Let this not look for grace beyond its scope, +But give itself, nor plead for answering truth-- +A grateful Ruth tho' gleaning scanty corn. + + + + +'THEY DESIRE A BETTER COUNTRY' + +(_Macmillan's Magazine_, March 1869.) + + +I + +I would not if I could undo my past, + Tho' for its sake my future is a blank; + My past, for which I have myself to thank, +For all its faults and follies first and last. +I would not cast anew the lot once cast, + Or launch a second ship for one that sank, + Or drug with sweets the bitterness I drank, +Or break by feasting my perpetual fast. +I would not if I could: for much more dear + Is one remembrance than a hundred joys, 10 + More than a thousand hopes in jubilee; + Dearer the music of one tearful voice + That unforgotten calls and calls to me, +'Follow me here, rise up, and follow here.' + +II + +What seekest thou far in the unknown land? + In hope I follow joy gone on before, + In hope and fear persistent more and more, +As the dry desert lengthens out its sand. +Whilst day and night I carry in my hand + The golden key to ope the golden door 20 + Of golden home; yet mine eye weepeth sore +For the long journey that must make no stand. +And who is this that veiled doth walk with thee? + Lo, this is Love that walketh at my right; + One exile holds us both, and we are bound + To selfsame home-joys in the land of light. +Weeping thou walkest with him; weepeth he?-- + Some sobbing weep, some weep and make no sound. + +III + +A dimness of a glory glimmers here + Thro' veils and distance from the space remote, 30 + A faintest far vibration of a note +Reaches to us and seems to bring us near, +Causing our face to glow with braver cheer, + Making the serried mist to stand afloat, + Subduing langour with an antidote, +And strengthening love almost to cast out fear, +Till for one moment golden city walls + Rise looming on us, golden walls of home, +Light of our eyes until the darkness falls; + Then thro' the outer darkness burdensome 40 +I hear again the tender voice that calls, + 'Follow me hither, follow, rise, and come.' + + + + +THE OFFERING OF THE NEW LAW, THE ONE OBLATION ONCE OFFERED + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, 1863.) + + +Once I thought to sit so high +In the Palace of the sky; +Now, I thank God for His Grace, +If I may fill the lowest place. + +Once I thought to scale so soon +Heights above the changing moon; +Now, I thank God for delay-- +To-day, it yet is called to-day. + +While I stumble, halt and blind, +Lo! He waiteth to be kind; 10 +Bless me soon, or bless me slow, +Except He bless, I let not go. + +Once for earth I laid my plan, +Once I leaned on strength of man, +When my hope was swept aside, +I stayed my broken heart on pride: + +Broken reed hath pierced my hand; +Fell my house I built on sand; +Roofless, wounded, maimed by sin, +Fightings without and fears within: 20 + +Yet, a tree, He feeds my root; +Yet, a branch, He prunes for fruit; +Yet, a sheep, these eves and morns, +He seeks for me among the thorns. + +With Thine Image stamped of old, +Find Thy coin more choice than gold; +Known to Thee by name, recall +To Thee Thy home-sick prodigal. + +Sacrifice and Offering +None there is that I can bring, 30 +None, save what is Thine alone: +I bring Thee, Lord, but of Thine Own-- + +Broken Body, Blood Outpoured, +These I bring, my God, my Lord; +Wine of Life, and Living Bread, +With these for me Thy Board is spread. + + + + +CONFERENCE BETWEEN CHRIST, THE SAINTS, AND THE SOUL + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, 1863.) + + +I am pale with sick desire, + For my heart is far away +From this world's fitful fire + And this world's waning day; +In a dream it overleaps + A world of tedious ills +To where the sunshine sleeps + On th' everlasting hills. + Say the Saints--There Angels ease us + Glorified and white. 10 + They say--We rest in Jesus, + Where is not day nor night. + +My Soul saith--I have sought + For a home that is not gained, +I have spent yet nothing bought, + Have laboured but not attained; +My pride strove to rise and grow, + And hath but dwindled down; +My love sought love, and lo! + Hath not attained its crown. 20 + Say the Saints--Fresh Souls increase us, + None languish nor recede. + They say--We love our Jesus, + And He loves us indeed. + +I cannot rise above, + I cannot rest beneath, +I cannot find out Love, + Nor escape from Death; +Dear hopes and joys gone by + Still mock me with a name; 30 +My best beloved die + And I cannot die with them. + Say the Saints--No deaths decrease us, + Where our rest is glorious. + They say--We live in Jesus, + Who once died for us. + +Oh, my Soul, she beats her wings + And pants to fly away +Up to immortal Things + In the Heavenly day: 40 +Yet she flags and almost faints; + Can such be meant for me? +Come and see--say the Saints. + Saith Jesus--Come and see. + Say the Saints--His Pleasures please us + Before God and the Lamb. + Come and taste My Sweets--saith Jesus-- + Be with Me where I am. + + + + +COME UNTO ME + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1864.) + + +Oh, for the time gone by, when thought of Christ + Made His Yoke easy and His Burden light; + When my heart stirred within me at the sight +Of Altar spread for awful Eucharist; +When all my hopes His promises sufficed, + When my Soul watched for Him by day, by night, + When my lamp lightened and my robe was white, +And all seemed loss, except the Pearl unpriced. +Yet, since He calls me still with tender Call, + Since He remembers Whom I half forgot, + I even will run my race and bear my lot: + For Faith the walls of Jericho cast down, + And Hope to whoso runs holds forth a Crown, +And Love is Christ, and Christ is All in all. + + + + +JESUS, DO I LOVE THEE? + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1864.) + + +Jesus, do I love Thee? +Thou art far above me, +Seated out of sight +Hid in Heavenly Light +Of most highest height. +Martyred hosts implore Thee, +Seraphs fall before Thee, +Angels and Archangels, +Cherub throngs adore Thee; +Blessed She that bore Thee! 10 +All the Saints approve Thee, +All the Virgins love Thee. +I show as a blot +Blood hath cleansed not, +As a barren spot +In Thy fruitful lot. +I, fig-tree fruit-unbearing; +Thou, righteous Judge unsparing: +What canst Thou do more to me +That shall not more undo me? 20 +Thy Justice hath a sound-- +Why cumbereth it the ground? +Thy Love with stirrings stronger +Pleads--Give it one year longer. +Thou giv'st me time: but who +Save Thou shall give me dew; +Shall feed my root with Blood, +And stir my sap for good? +Oh, by Thy Gifts that shame me, +Give more lest they condemn me: 30 +Good Lord, I ask much of Thee, +But most I ask to love Thee; +Kind Lord, be mindful of me, +Love me, and make me love Thee. + + + + +I KNOW YOU NOT + +(_Lyra Messianica_, 1864.) + + +O Christ, the Vine with living Fruit, +The twelvefold-fruited Tree of Life, +The Balm in Gilead after strife, +The valley Lily and the Rose; +Stronger than Lebanon, Thou Root; +Sweeter than clustered grapes, Thou Vine; +O Best, Thou Vineyard of red wine, +Keeping thy best wine till the close. + +Pearl of great price Thyself alone, +And ruddier than the ruby Thou; 10 +Most precious lightning Jasper stone, +Head of the corner spurned before: +Fair Gate of pearl, Thyself the Door; +Clear golden Street, Thyself the Way; +By Thee we journey toward Thee now, +Through Thee shall enter Heaven one day. + +I thirst for Thee, full fount and flood; +My heart calls Thine, as deep to deep: +Dost Thou forget Thy sweat and pain, +They provocation on the Cross? 20 +Heart-pierced for me, vouchsafe to keep +The purchase of Thy lavished Blood: +The gain is Thine, Lord, if I gain; +Or if I lose, Thine own the loss. + +At midnight (saith the Parable) +A cry was made, the Bridegroom came; +Those who were ready entered in: +The rest, shut out in death and shame, +Strove all too late that Feast to win, +Their die was cast, and fixed their lot; 30 +A gulf divided Heaven from Hell; +The Bridegroom said--I know you not. + +But Who is this that shuts the door, +And saith--I know you not--to them? +I see the wounded hands and side, +The brow thorn-tortured long ago: +Yea; This Who grieved and bled and died, +This same is He Who must condemn; +He called, but they refused to know; +So now He hears their cry no more. 40 + + + + +'BEFORE THE PALING OF THE STARS' + +(_Lyra Messianica_, 1864.) + + +Before the paling of the stars, + Before the winter morn, +Before the earliest cockcrow + Jesus Christ was born: +Born in a stable, + Cradled in a manger, +In the world His hands had made + Born a stranger. + +Priest and king lay fast asleep + In Jerusalem, 10 +Young and old lay fast asleep + In crowded Bethlehem: +Saint and Angel, ox and ass, + Kept a watch together, +Before the Christmas daybreak + In the winter weather. + +Jesus on His Mother's breast + In the stable cold, +Spotless Lamb of God was He, + Shepherd of the fold: 20 +Let us kneel with Mary maid, + With Joseph bent and hoary, +With Saint and Angel, ox and ass, + To hail the King of Glory. + + + + +EASTER EVEN + +(_Lyra Messianica_, 1864.) + + +There is nothing more that they can do + For all their rage and boast; +Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew, + Herod with his host, + +Pontius Pilate in his Judgement-hall + Judging their Judge and his, +Or he who led them all and passed them all, + Arch-Judas with his kiss. + +The sepulchre made sure with ponderous Stone, + Seal that same stone, O Priest; 10 +It may be thou shalt block the holy One + From rising in the east: + +Set a watch about the sepulchre + To watch on pain of death; +They must hold fast the stone if One should stir + And shake it from beneath. + +God Almighty, He can break a seal + And roll away a Stone, +Can grind the proud in dust who would not kneel, + And crush the mighty one. 20 + +* * * * * * * + +There is nothing more that they can do + For all their passionate care, +Those who sit in dust, the blessed few, + And weep and rend their hair: + +Peter, Thomas, Mary Magdalene, + The Virgin unreproved, +Joseph, with Nicodemus, foremost men, + And John the Well-beloved, + +Bring your finest linen and your spice, + Swathe the sacred Dead, 30 +Bind with careful hands and piteous eyes + The napkin round His head; + +Lay Him in the garden-rock to rest; + Rest you the Sabbath length: +The Sun that went down crimson in the west + Shall rise renewed in strength. + +God Almighty shall give joy for pain, + Shall comfort him who grieves: +Lo! He with joy shall doubtless come again, + And with Him bring His sheaves. 40 + + + + +PARADISE: IN A DREAM + +(_Lyra Messianica_, second edition, 1865.) + + +Once in a dream I saw the flowers + That bud and bloom in Paradise; + More fair they are than waking eyes +Have seen in all this world of ours. +And faint the perfume-bearing rose, + And faint the lily on its stem, +And faint the perfect violet + Compared with them. + +I heard the songs of Paradise: + Each bird sat singing in his place; 10 + A tender song so full of grace +It soared like incense to the skies. +Each bird sat singing to his mate + Soft cooing notes among the trees: +The nightingale herself were cold + To such as these. + +I saw the fourfold River flow, + And deep it was, with golden sand; + It flowed between a mossy land +With murmured music grave and low. 20 +It hath refreshment for all thirst, + For fainting spirits strength and rest: +Earth holds not such a draught as this + From east to west. + +The Tree of Life stood budding there, + Abundant with its twelvefold fruits; + Eternal sap sustains its roots, +Its shadowing branches fill the air. +Its leaves are healing for the world, + Its fruit the hungry world can feed, 30 +Sweeter than honey to the taste + And balm indeed. + +I saw the gate called Beautiful; + And looked, but scarce could look, within; + I saw the golden streets begin, +And outskirts of the glassy pool. +Oh harps, oh crowns of plenteous stars, + Oh green palm-branches many-leaved-- +Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, + Nor heart conceived. 40 + +I hope to see these things again, + But not as once in dreams by night; + To see them with my very sight, +And touch, and handle, and attain: +To have all Heaven beneath my feet + For narrow way that once they trod; +To have my part with all the saints, + And with my God. + + + + +WITHIN THE VEIL + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1865.) + + +She holds a lily in her hand, +Where long ranks of Angels stand, +A silver lily for her wand. + +All her hair falls sweeping down; +Her hair that is a golden brown, +A crown beneath her golden crown. + +Blooms a rose-bush at her knee, +Good to smell and good to see: +It bears a rose for her, for me; + +Her rose a blossom richly grown, 10 +My rose a bud not fully blown, +But sure one day to be mine own. + + + + +PARADISE: IN A SYMBOL + +(_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1865.) + + +Golden-winged, silver-winged, + Winged with flashing flame, +Such a flight of birds I saw, + Birds without a name: +Singing songs in their own tongue + (Song of songs) they came. + +One to another calling, + Each answering each, +One to another calling + In their proper speech: 10 +High above my head they wheeled, + Far out of reach. + +On wings of flame they went and came + With a cadenced clang, +Their silver wings tinkled, + Their golden wings rang, +The wind it whistled through their wings + Where in Heaven they sang. + +They flashed and they darted + Awhile before mine eyes, 20 +Mounting, mounting, mounting still + In haste to scale the skies-- +Birds without a nest on earth, + Birds of Paradise. + +Where the moon riseth not, + Nor sun seeks the west, +There to sing their glory + Which they sing at rest, +There to sing their love-song + When they sing their best: 30 + +Not in any garden + That mortal foot hath trod, +Not in any flowering tree + That springs from earthly sod, +But in the garden where they dwell, + The Paradise of God. + + + + +AMOR MUNDI + +(_The Shilling Magazine_, 1865.) + + +'Oh, where are you going with your love-locks flowing + On the west wind blowing along this valley track?' +'The downhill path is easy, come with me an' it please ye, + We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.' + +So they two went together in glowing August weather, + The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right; +And dear she was to doat on, her swift feet seemed to float on + The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight. + +'Oh, what is that in heaven where grey cloud-flakes are seven, + Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?' 10 +'Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,-- + An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.' + +'Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly, + Their scent comes rich and sickly?'--'A scaled and hooded worm.' +'Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?' + 'Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits th' eternal term.' + +'Turn again, O my sweetest,--turn again, false and fleetest: + This way whereof thou weetest I fear is hell's own track.' +'Nay, too steep for hill-mounting,--nay, too late for cost-counting: + This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.' 20 + + + + +WHO SHALL DELIVER ME? + +(_The Argosy_, Feb. 1866.) + + +God strengthen me to bear myself; +That heaviest weight of all to bear, +Inalienable weight of care. + +All others are outside myself, +I lock my door and bar them out +The turmoil, tedium, gad-about. + +I lock my door upon myself, +And bar them out; but who shall wall +Self from myself, most loathed of all? + +If I could once lay down myself, 10 +And start self-purged upon the race +That all must run! Death runs apace. + +If I could set aside myself, +And start with lightened heart upon +The road by all men overgone! + +God harden me against myself, +This coward with pathetic voice +Who craves for ease, and rest, and joys: + +Myself, arch-traitor to myself; +My hollowest friend, my deadliest foe, 20 +My clog whatever road I go. + +Yet One there is can curb myself, +Can roll the strangling load from me, +Break off the yoke and set me free. + + + + +IF + +(_The Argosy_, March 1866.) + + +If he would come to-day, to-day, to-day, + O, what a day to-day would be! +But now he's away, miles and miles away + From me across the sea. + +O little bird, flying, flying, flying + To your nest in the warm west, +Tell him as you pass that I am dying, + As you pass home to your nest. + +I have a sister, I have a brother, + A faithful hound, a tame white dove; 10 +But I had another, once I had another, + And I miss him, my love, my love! + +In this weary world it is so cold, so cold, + While I sit here all alone; +I would not like to wait and to grow old, + But just to be dead and gone. + +Make me fair when I lie dead on my bed, + Fair where I am lying: +Perhaps he may come and look upon me dead-- + He for whom I am dying. 20 + +Dig my grave for two, with a stone to show it, + And on the stone write my name; +If he never comes, I shall never know it, + But sleep on all the same. + + + + +TWILIGHT NIGHT + +(_The Argosy_, March 1866.) + + +I + +We met, hand to hand, + We clasped hands close and fast, +As close as oak and ivy stand; + But it is past: + Come day, come night, day comes at last. + +We loosed hand from hand, + We parted face from face; +Each went his way to his own land. + At his own pace, + Each went to fill his separate place. 10 + +If we should meet one day, + If both should not forget, +We shall clasp hands the accustomed way, + As when we met +So long ago, as I remember yet. + +II + +Where my heart is (wherever that may be) + Might I but follow! +If you fly thither over heath and lea, +O honey-seeking bee, + O careless swallow, 20 +Bid some for whom I watch keep watch for me. + +Alas! that we must dwell, my heart and I, + So far asunder. +Hours wax to days, and days and days creep by; +I watch with wistful eye, +I wait and wonder: +When will that day draw nigh--that hour draw nigh? + +Not yesterday, and not, I think, to-day; + Perhaps to-morrow. +Day after day 'to-morrow' thus I say: 30 +I watched so yesterday + In hope and sorrow, +Again to-day I watch the accustomed way. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, +and Other Poems, by Christina Rossetti + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOBLIN MARKET *** + +***** This file should be named 16950.txt or 16950.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/9/5/16950/ + +Produced by Andrew Sly. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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