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diff --git a/22717-h/22717-h.htm b/22717-h/22717-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7db066c --- /dev/null +++ b/22717-h/22717-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9987 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/loose.dtd"> +<html lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lundy's Lane and Other Poems, by Duncan Campbell Scott +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 12%; + margin-right: 12%;} + + p {text-indent: 0em; + text-align: justify; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + line-height: 1.2em;} + + .dedication {text-indent: 0em; + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + line-height: 1.5em;} + + .title {font-weight: bold; + text-align: left; + padding-bottom: 1em;} + + .section {text-indent: 0em; + text-align: center; + margin-top: 5em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + line-height: 1.5em; + font-weight: bold; + font-size: 110%;} + + .ctr {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + font-weight: bold; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 1.3em;} + + .img {text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: .5em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; + margin-bottom: 1em; + line-height: 1.3em;} + + hr.long {width: 100%; + margin-top: 2.5em; + margin-bottom: 2.5em;} + + hr.med {width: 45%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em;} + + hr.short {width: 30%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em;} + + hr.div {width: 30%; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em; + margin-left: 6%;} + + .right {position: absolute; + right: 25%;} + + .page {position: absolute; + right: 25%;} + + ul.toc {list-style-type: none; + line-height: 1.2em; + text-align: left; + margin-left: 10%;} + + ul.list {list-style-type: none; + line-height: 1.2em; + text-align: left;} + + ul.number {list-style-type: upper-roman; + line-height: 1.2em; + text-align: left;} + + .poem {margin-left:12%; margin-right:4%; + margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + .poem p.i12 {margin-left: 6em;} + .poem p.i14 {margin-left: 8em;} + .poem p.i16 {margin-left: 9em;} + .poem p.i18 {margin-left: 12em;} + .poem p.i20 {margin-left: 14em;} + .poem p.i22 {margin-left: 16em;} + + a:link {color: #33C; + background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: underline} + link {color: #33C; + background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none} + a:visited {color:#33C; + background-color: inherit; + text-decoration: none} + a:hover {color:#F00; + background-color: inherit} + +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Lundy's Lane and Other Poems, by Duncan Campbell Scott + +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: Lundy's Lane and Other Poems + +Author: Duncan Campbell Scott + +Release Date: September 22, 2007 [EBook #22717] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LUNDY'S LANE AND OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p class="img"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Book cover" width="302" height="458"> +</p> +<p class="img"> +<img src="images/001.jpg" alt="Photo of Duncan Campbell Scott" width="276" height="440"> +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<h1> +<i> +Lundy's Lane +</i> +</h1> +<h2> +<i> +and Other Poems +</i> +</h2> +<p> + +</p> +<h3> +<i> +By +</i> +</h3> +<h2> +<i> +Duncan Campbell Scott +</i> +</h2> +<p class="ctr"> +<i> +Author of "The Magic House," "In the Village of Viger," etc., etc. +</i> +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<h4> +<i> +McClelland, Goodchild & Stewart +<br> +Publishers +</i> +:: :: :: :: +<i> +Toronto +</i> +</h4> +<h4> +Copyright, 1916, +<br> +By GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY +</h4> +<h4> +Printed in the United States of America +</h4> +<p> + +</p> +<hr class="short"> +<p class="dedication"> +To the Memory of My Daughter +<br> +ELIZABETH DUNCAN SCOTT +<br> +1895-1907 +</p> +<hr class="med"> +<p class="ctr"> +<big> +CONTENTS +</big> +</p> +<p class="page"> +Page +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<ul class="toc"> +<li> +THE BATTLE OF LUNDY'S LANE<a href="#13"><span class="right">13</span></a> +</li> +<li> + +</li> +<li> +VIA BOREALIS— +<ul class="list"> +<li> +Spring on Mattagami<a href="#25"><span class="right">25</span></a> +</li> +<li> +An Impromptu<a href="#36"><span class="right">36</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Half-Breed Girl<a href="#38"><span class="right">38</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Night Burial in the Forest<a href="#41"><span class="right">41</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Dream Voyageurs<a href="#44"><span class="right">44</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Song: Creep into My Heart<a href="#45"><span class="right">45</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Ecstasy<a href="#46"><span class="right">46</span></a> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li> + +</li> +<li> +LYRICS, SONGS AND SONNETS— +<ul class="list"> +<li> +Meditation at Perugia<a href="#49"><span class="right">49</span></a> +</li> +<li> +At William MacLennan's Grave. Near Florence<a href="#53"><span class="right">53</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Wood-Spring to the Poet<a href="#56"><span class="right">56</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The November Pansy<a href="#63"><span class="right">63</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Height of Land<a href="#68"><span class="right">68</span></a> +</li> +<li> +New Year's Night, 1916<a href="#77"><span class="right">77</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Fragment of an Ode to Canada<a href="#79"><span class="right">79</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Fantasia<a href="#84"><span class="right">84</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Lover to His Lass<a href="#86"><span class="right">86</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Ghost's Story<a href="#90"><span class="right">90</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Night<a href="#92"><span class="right">92</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Apparition<a href="#94"><span class="right">94</span></a> +</li> +<li> +At Sea<a href="#96"><span class="right">96</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Madonna with Two Angels<a href="#98"><span class="right">98</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Mid-August<a href="#100"><span class="right">100</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Mist and Frost<a href="#105"><span class="right">105</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Beggar and the Angel<a href="#110"><span class="right">110</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Improvisation on an Old Song<a href="#117"><span class="right">117</span></a> +</li> +<li> +O Turn Once More<a href="#121"><span class="right">121</span></a> +</li> +<li> +At the Gill-Nets<a href="#124"><span class="right">124</span></a> +</li> +<li> +A Love Song<a href="#126"><span class="right">126</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Three Songs: +<ul class="number"> +<li> +Where love is life<a href="#128"><span class="right">128</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Nothing came here but sunlight<a href="#129_1"><span class="right">129</span></a> +</li> +<li> +I have songs of dancing pleasure<a href="#129_2"><span class="right">129</span></a> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li> +The Sailor's Sweetheart<a href="#131"><span class="right">131</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Feuilles d'Automne<a href="#133"><span class="right">133</span></a> +</li> +<li> +To the Heroic Soul: +<ul class="number"> +<li> +Nurture thyself, O Soul!<a href="#135"><span class="right">135</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Be strong, O Warring Soul!<a href="#136"><span class="right">136</span></a> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li> +Retrospect<a href="#138"><span class="right">138</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Frost Magic: +<ul class="number"> +<li> +Now in the moonrise, from a wintry sky<a href="#139"><span class="right">139</span></a> +</li> +<li> +With these alone he draws in magic lines<a href="#140"><span class="right">140</span></a> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li> +In Snow-Time<a href="#142"><span class="right">142</span></a> +</li> +<li> +To a Canadian Lad Killed in the War<a href="#143"><span class="right">143</span></a> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li> + +</li> +<li> +THE CLOSED DOOR— +<ul class="list"> +<li> +By a Child's Bed<a href="#147"><span class="right">147</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Elizabeth Speaks<a href="#149"><span class="right">149</span></a> +</li> +<li> +A Legend of Christ's Nativity<a href="#154"><span class="right">154</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Willow-Pipes<a href="#163"><span class="right">163</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Angel<a href="#164"><span class="right">164</span></a> +</li> +<li> +Christmas Folk-Song<a href="#165"><span class="right">165</span></a> +</li> +<li> +From Beyond<a href="#166"><span class="right">166</span></a> +</li> +<li> +The Leaf<a href="#167"><span class="right">167</span></a> +</li> +<li> +A Mystery Play<a href="#168"><span class="right">168</span></a> +</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li> + +</li> +<li> +LINES IN MEMORY OF EDMUND MORRIS<a href="#179"><span class="right">179</span></a> +</li> +</ul> +<hr class="long"> +<p class="section"> +THE BATTLE OF LUNDY'S LANE +</p> +<a name="13"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE BATTLE OF LUNDY'S LANE +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +Rufus Gale speaks—1852 +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Yes,—in the Lincoln Militia,—in the war of eighteen-twelve; +</p> +<p> +Many's the day I've had since then to dig and delve— +</p> +<p> +But those are the years I remember as the brightest years of all, +</p> +<p> +When we left the plow in the furrow to follow the bugle's call. +</p> +<p> +Why, even our son Abner wanted to fight with the men! +</p> +<p> +"Don't you go, d'ye hear, sir!"—I was angry with him then. +</p> +<p> +"Stay with your mother!" I said, and he looked so old and grim— +</p> +<p> +He was just sixteen that April—I couldn't believe it was him; +</p> +<p> +But I didn't think—I was off—and we met the foe again, +</p> +<p> +Five thousand strong and ready, at the hill by Lundy's Lane. +</p> +<p> +There as the night came on we fought them from six to nine, +</p> +<p> +Whenever they broke our line we broke their line, +</p> +<p> +They took our guns and we won them again, and around the levels +</p> +<p> +Where the hill sloped up—with the Eighty-ninth,—we fought like devils +</p> +<p> +Around the flag;—and on they came and we drove them back, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Until with its very fierceness the fight grew slack. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +It was then about nine and dark as a miser's pocket, +</p> +<p> +When up came Hercules Scott's brigade swift as a rocket, +</p> +<p> +And charged,—and the flashes sprang in the dark like a lion's eyes; +</p> +<p> +The night was full of fire—groans, and cheers, and cries; +</p> +<p> +Then through the sound and the fury another sound broke in— +</p> +<p> +The roar of a great old duck-gun shattered the rest of the din; +</p> +<p> +It took two minutes to charge it and another to set it free. +</p> +<p> +Every time I heard it an angel spoke to me; +</p> +<p> +Yes, the minute I heard it I felt the strangest tide +</p> +<p> +Flow in my veins like lightning, as if, there, by my side, +</p> +<p> +Was the very spirit of Valor. But 'twas dark—you couldn't see— +</p> +<p> +And the one who was firing the duck-gun fell against me +</p> +<p> +And slid down to the clover, and lay there still; +</p> +<p> +Something went through me—piercing—with a strange, swift thrill; +</p> +<p> +The noise fell away into silence, and I heard as clear as thunder +</p> +<p> +The long, slow roar of Niagara: O the wonder +</p> +<p> +Of that deep sound. But again the battle broke +</p> +<p> +And the foe, driven before us desperately—stroke upon stroke, +</p> +<p> +Left the field to his master, and sullenly down the road +</p> +<p> +Sounded the boom of his guns, trailing the heavy load +</p> +<p> +Of his wounded men and his shattered flags, sullen and slow, +</p> +<p> +Setting fire in his rage to Bridgewater mills and the glow +</p> +<p> +Flared in the distant forest. We rested as we could, +</p> +<p> +And for a while I slept in the dark of a maple wood: +</p> +<p> +But when the clouds in the east were red all over, +</p> +<p> +I came back there to the place we made the stand in the clover; +</p> +<p> +For my heart was heavy then with a strange deep pain, +</p> +<p> +As I thought of the glorious fight, and again and again +</p> +<p> +I remembered the valiant spirit and the piercing thrill; +</p> +<p> +But I knew it all when I reached the top of the hill,— +</p> +<p> +For there, there with the blood on his dear, brave head, +</p> +<p> +There on the hill in the clover lay our Abner—dead!— +</p> +<p> +No—thank you—no, I don't need it; I'm solid as granite rock, +</p> +<p> +But every time that I tell it I feel the old, cold shock, +</p> +<p> +I'm eighty-one my next birthday—do you breed such fellows now? +</p> +<p> +There he lay with the dawn cooling his broad fair brow, +</p> +<p> +That was no dawn for him; and there was the old duck-gun +</p> +<p> +That many and many's the time,—just for the fun, +</p> +<p> +We together, alone, would take to the hickory rise, +</p> +<p> +And bring home more wild pigeons than ever you saw with your eyes. +</p> +<p> +Up with Hercules Scott's brigade, just as it came on night— +</p> +<p> +He was the angel beside me in the thickest of the fight— +</p> +<p> +Wrote a note to his mother—He said, "I've got to go; +</p> +<p> +Mother what would home be under the heel of the foe!" +</p> +<p> +Oh! she never slept a wink, she would rise and walk the floor; +</p> +<p> +She'd say this over and over, "I knew it all before!" +</p> +<p> +I'd try to speak of the glory to give her a little joy. +</p> +<p> +"What is the glory to me when I want my boy, my boy!" +</p> +<p> +She'd say, and she'd wring her hands; her hair grew white as snow— +</p> +<p> +And I'd argue with her up and down, to and fro, +</p> +<p> +Of how she had mothered a hero, and his was a glorious fate, +</p> +<p> +Better than years of grubbing to gather an estate. +</p> +<p> +Sometimes I'd put it this way: "If God was to say to me now +</p> +<p> +'Take him back as he once was helping you with the plow,' +</p> +<p> +I'd say, 'No, God, thank You kindly; 'twas You that he obeyed; +</p> +<p> +You told him to fight and he fought, and he wasn't afraid; +</p> +<p> +You wanted to prove him in battle, You sent him to Lundy's Lane, +</p> +<p> +'Tis well!" But she only would answer over and over again, +</p> +<p> +"Give me back my Abner—give me back my son!" +</p> +<p> +It was so all through the winter until the spring had begun, +</p> +<p> +And the crocus was up in the dooryard, and the drift by the fence was thinned, +</p> +<p> +And the sap drip-dropped from the branches wounded by the wind, +</p> +<p> +And the whole earth smelled like a flower,—then she came to me one night— +</p> +<p> +"Rufus!" she said, with a sob in her throat,—"Rufus, you're right." +</p> +<p> +I hadn't cried till then, not a tear—but then I was torn in two— +</p> +<p> +There, it's all right—my eyes don't see as they used to do! +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But O the joy of that battle—it was worth the whole of life, +</p> +<p> +You felt immortal in action with the rapture of the strife, +</p> +<p> +There in the dark by the river, with the flashes of fire before, +</p> +<p> +Running and crashing along, there in the dark, and the roar +</p> +<p> +Of the guns, and the shrilling cheers, and the knowledge that filled your heart +</p> +<p> +That there was a victory making and you must do your part, +</p> +<p> +But—there's his grave in the orchard where the headstone glimmers white: +</p> +<p> +We could see it, we thought, from our window even on the darkest night; +</p> +<p> +It is set there for a sign that what one lad could do +</p> +<p> +Would be done by a hundred hundred lads whose hearts were stout and true. +</p> +<p> +And when in the time of trial you hear the recreant say, +</p> +<p> +Shooting his coward lips at us, "You shall have had your day: +</p> +<p> +For all your state and glory shall pass like a cloudy wrack, +</p> +<p> +And here some other flag shall fly where flew the Union Jack,"— +</p> +<p> +Why tell him a hundred thousand men would spring from these sleepy farms, +</p> +<p> +To tie that flag in its ancient place with the sinews of their arms; +</p> +<p> +And if they doubt you and put you to scorn, why you can make it plain, +</p> +<p> +With the tale of the gallant Lincoln men and the fight at Lundy's Lane.= +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +1908. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="section"> +VIA BOREALIS +</p> +<p class="ctr"> +TO +<br> +<i> +Pelham Edgar +</i> +</p> +<a name="25"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +SPRING ON MATTAGAMI +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Far in the east the rain-clouds sweep and harry, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Down the long haggard hills, formless and low, +</p> +<p> +Far in the west the shell-tints meet and marry, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Piled gray and tender blue and roseate snow; +</p> +<p> +East—like a fiend, the bolt-breasted, streaming +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Storm strikes the world with lightning and with hail; +</p> +<p> +West—like the thought of a seraph that is dreaming, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Venus leads the young moon down the vale. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Through the lake furrow between the gloom and bright'ning +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Firm runs our long canoe with a whistling rush, +</p> +<p> +While Potàn the wise and the cunning Silver Lightning +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Break with their slender blades the long clear hush; +</p> +<p> +Soon shall I pitch my tent amid the birches, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Wise Potàn shall gather boughs of balsam fir, +</p> +<p> +While for bark and dry wood Silver Lightning searches; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Soon the smoke shall hang and lapse in the moist air. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Soon shall I sleep—if I may not remember +</p> +<p class="i2"> +One who lives far away where the storm-cloud went; +</p> +<p> +May it part and starshine burn in many a quiet ember, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Over her towered city crowned with large content; +</p> +<p> +Dear God, let me sleep, here where deep peace is, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Let me own a dreamless sleep once for all the years, +</p> +<p> +Let me know a quiet mind and what heart ease is, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Lost to light and life and hope, to longing and to tears. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here in the solitude less her memory presses, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Yet I see her lingering where the birches shine, +</p> +<p> +All the dark cedars are sleep-laden like her tresses, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The gold-moted wood-pools pellucid as her eyen; +</p> +<p> +Memories and ghost-forms of the days departed +</p> +<p class="i2"> +People all the forest lone in the dead of night; +</p> +<p> +While Potàn and Silver Lightning sleep, the happy-hearted, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Troop they from their fastnesses upon my sight. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Once when the tide came straining from the Lido, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In a sea of flame our gondola flickered like a sword, +</p> +<p> +Venice lay abroad builded like beauty's credo, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Smouldering like a gorget on the breast of the Lord: +</p> +<p> +Did she mourn for fame foredoomed or passion shattered +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That with a sudden impulse she gathered at my side? +</p> +<p> +But when I spoke the ancient fates were flattered, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Chill there crept between us the imperceptible tide. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Once I well remember in her twilight garden, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +She pulled a half-blown rose, I thought it meant for me, +</p> +<p> +But poising in the act, and with half a sigh for pardon, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +She hid it in her bosom where none may dare to see: +</p> +<p> +Had she a subtle meaning?—would to God I knew it, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where'er I am I always feel the rose leaves nestling there, +</p> +<p> +If I might know her mind and the thought which then flashed through it, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +My soul might look to heaven not commissioned to despair. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Though she denied at parting the gift that I besought her, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Just a bit of ribbon or a strand of her hair; +</p> +<p> +Though she would not keep the token that I brought her, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Proud she stood and calm and marvellously fair; +</p> +<p> +Yet I saw her spirit—truth cannot dissemble— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Saw her pure as gold, staunch and keen and brave, +</p> +<p> +For she knows my worth and her heart was all atremble, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Lest her will should weaken and make her heart a slave. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +If she could be here where all the world is eager +</p> +<p class="i2"> +For dear love with the primal Eden sway, +</p> +<p> +Where the blood is fire and no pulse is thin or meagre, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +All the heart of all the world beats one way! +</p> +<p> +There is the land of fraud and fame and fashion, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Joy is but a gaud and withers in an hour, +</p> +<p> +Here is the land of quintessential passion, +</p> +<p> +Where in a wild throb Spring wells up with power. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She would hear the partridge drumming in the distance, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Rolling out his mimic thunder in the sultry noons; +</p> +<p> +Hear beyond the silver reach in ringing wild persistence +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Reel remote the ululating laughter of the loons; +</p> +<p> +See the shy moose fawn nestling by its mother, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In a cool marsh pool where the sedges meet; +</p> +<p> +Rest by a moss-mound where the twin-flowers smother +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With a drowse of orient perfume drenched in light and heat: +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She would see the dawn rise behind the smoky mountain, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In a jet of colour curving up to break, +</p> +<p> +While like spray from the iridescent fountain, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Opal fires weave over all the oval of the lake: +</p> +<p> +She would see like fireflies the stars alight and spangle +</p> +<p class="i2"> +All the heaven meadows thick with growing dusk, +</p> +<p> +Feel the gipsy airs that gather up and tangle +</p> +<p> +The woodsy odours in a maze of myrrh and musk: +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +There in the forest all the birds are nesting, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Tells the hermit thrush the song he cannot tell, +</p> +<p> +While the white-throat sparrow never resting, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Even in the deepest night rings his crystal bell: +</p> +<p> +O, she would love me then with a wild elation, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Then she must love me and leave her lonely state, +</p> +<p> +Give me love yet keep her soul's imperial reservation, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Large as her deep nature and fathomless as fate: +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Then, if she would lie beside me in the even, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +On my deep couch heaped of balsam fir, +</p> +<p> +Fragrant with sleep as nothing under heaven, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Let the past and future mingle in one blur; +</p> +<p> +While all the stars were watchful and thereunder +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Earth breathed not but took their silent light, +</p> +<p> +All life withdrew and wrapt in a wild wonder +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Peace fell tranquil on the odorous night: +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She would let me steal,—not consenting or denying— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +One strong arm beneath her dusky hair, +</p> +<p> +She would let me bare, not resisting or complying, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +One sweet breast so sweet and firm and fair; +</p> +<p> +Then with the quick sob of passion's shy endeavour, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +She would gather close and shudder and swoon away, +</p> +<p> +She would be mine for ever and for ever, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Mine for all time and beyond the judgment day. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Vain is the dream, and deep with all derision— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Fate is stern and hard—fair and false and vain— +</p> +<p> +But what would life be worth without the vision, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Dark with sordid passion, pale with wringing pain? +</p> +<p> +What I dream is mine, mine beyond all cavil, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Pure and fair and sweet, and mine for evermore, +</p> +<p> +And when I will my life I may unravel, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And find my passion dream deep at the red core. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Venus sinks first lost in ruby splendour, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Stars like wood-daffodils grow golden in the night, +</p> +<p> +Far, far above, in a space entranced and tender, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Floats the growing moon pale with virgin light. +</p> +<p> +Vaster than the world or life or death my trust is +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Based in the unseen and towering far above; +</p> +<p> +Hold me, O Law, that deeper lies than Justice, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Guide me, O Light, that stronger burns than Love. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="36"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +AN IMPROMPTU +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here in the pungent gloom +</p> +<p> +Where the tamarac roses glow +</p> +<p> +And the balsam burns its perfume, +</p> +<p> +A vireo turns his slow +</p> +<p> +Cadence, as if he gloated +</p> +<p> +Over the last phrase he floated; +</p> +<p> +Each one he moulds and mellows +</p> +<p> +Matching it with its fellows: +</p> +<p> +So have you noted +</p> +<p> +How the oboe croons, +</p> +<p> +The canary-throated, +</p> +<p> +In the gloom of the violoncellos +</p> +<p> +And bassoons. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But afar in the thickset forest +</p> +<p> +I hear a sound go free, +</p> +<p> +Crashing the stately neighbours +</p> +<p> +The pine and the cedar tree, +</p> +<p> +Horns and harps and tabors, +</p> +<p> +Drumming and harping and horning +</p> +<p> +In savage minstrelsy— +</p> +<p> +It wakes in my soul a warning +</p> +<p> +Of the wind of destiny. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +My life is soaring and swinging +</p> +<p> +In triple walls of quiet, +</p> +<p> +In my heart there is rippling and ringing +</p> +<p> +A song with melodious riot, +</p> +<p> +When a fateful thing comes nigh it +</p> +<p> +A hush falls, and then +</p> +<p> +I hear in the thickset world +</p> +<p> +The wind of destiny hurled +</p> +<p> +On the lives of men. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="38"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE HALF-BREED GIRL +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She is free of the trap and the paddle, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The portage and the trail, +</p> +<p> +But something behind her savage life +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Shines like a fragile veil. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Her dreams are undiscovered, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Shadows trouble her breast, +</p> +<p> +When the time for resting cometh +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Then least is she at rest. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Oft in the morns of winter, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +When she visits the rabbit snares, +</p> +<p> +An appearance floats in the crystal air +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Beyond the balsam firs. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Oft in the summer mornings +</p> +<p class="i2"> +When she strips the nets of fish, +</p> +<p> +The smell of the dripping net-twine +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Gives to her heart a wish. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But she cannot learn the meaning +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of the shadows in her soul, +</p> +<p> +The lights that break and gather, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The clouds that part and roll, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The reek of rock-built cities, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where her fathers dwelt of yore, +</p> +<p> +The gleam of loch and shealing, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The mist on the moor, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Frail traces of kindred kindness, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of feud by hill and strand, +</p> +<p> +The heritage of an age-long life +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In a legendary land. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She wakes in the stifling wigwam, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where the air is heavy and wild, +</p> +<p> +She fears for something or nothing +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With the heart of a frightened child. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She sees the stars turn slowly +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Past the tangle of the poles, +</p> +<p> +Through the smoke of the dying embers, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Like the eyes of dead souls. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Her heart is shaken with longing +</p> +<p class="i2"> +For the strange, still years, +</p> +<p> +For what she knows and knows not, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +For the wells of ancient tears. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +A voice calls from the rapids, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Deep, careless and free, +</p> +<p> +A voice that is larger than her life +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Or than her death shall be. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She covers her face with her blanket, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Her fierce soul hates her breath, +</p> +<p> +As it cries with a sudden passion +</p> +<p class="i2"> +For life or death. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="41"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +NIGHT BURIAL IN THE FOREST +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Lay him down where the fern is thick and fair. +</p> +<p> +Fain was he for life, here lies he low: +</p> +<p> +With the blood washed clean from his brow and his beautiful hair, +</p> +<p> +Lay him here in the dell where the orchids grow. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Let the birch-bark torches roar in the gloom, +</p> +<p> +And the trees crowd up in a quiet startled ring +</p> +<p> +So lone is the land that in this lonely room +</p> +<p> +Never before has breathed a human thing. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Cover him well in his canvas shroud, and the moss +</p> +<p> +Part and heap again on his quiet breast, +</p> +<p> +What recks he now of gain, or love, or loss +</p> +<p> +Who for love gained rest? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +While she who caused it all hides her insolent eyes +</p> +<p> +Or braids her hair with the ribbons of lust and of lies, +</p> +<p> +And he who did the deed fares out like a hunted beast +</p> +<p> +To lurk where the musk-ox tramples the barren ground +</p> +<p> +Where the stroke of his coward heart is the only sound. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Haunting the tamarac shade, +</p> +<p> +Hear them up-thronging +</p> +<p> +Memories foredoomed +</p> +<p> +Of strife and of longing: +</p> +<p> +Haggard or bright +</p> +<p> +By the tamaracs and birches, +</p> +<p> +Where the red torch light +</p> +<p> +Trembles and searches, +</p> +<p> +The wilderness teems +</p> +<p> +With inscrutable eyes +</p> +<p> +Of ghosts that are dreams +</p> +<p> +Commingled with memories. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Leave him here in his secret ferny tomb, +</p> +<p> +Withdraw the little light from the ocean of gloom, +</p> +<p> +He who feared nought will fear aught never, +</p> +<p> +Left alone in the forest forever and ever. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Then, as we fare on our way to the shore +</p> +<p> +Sudden the torches cease to roar: +</p> +<p> +For cleaving the darkness remote and still +</p> +<p> +Comes a wind with a rushing, harp-like thrill, +</p> +<p> +The sound of wings hurled and furled and unfurled, +</p> +<p> +The wings of the Angel who gathers the souls from the wastes of the world. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="44"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +DREAM VOYAGEURS +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +To ports of balm through isles of musk +</p> +<p> +The gentle airs are leading us; +</p> +<p> +To curtained calm and tents of dusk, +</p> +<p> +The wood-wild things unheeding us +</p> +<p> +Will share their hoards of hardihood, +</p> +<p> +Cool dew and roots of fern for food, +</p> +<p> +Frail berries full of the sun's blood. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +To planets bland with dales of dream +</p> +<p> +A tranquil life is leading us, +</p> +<p> +We shall land from the languid stream, +</p> +<p> +The musing shades, unheeding us, +</p> +<p> +Will share their veils of angelhood, +</p> +<p> +Thoughts that are tranced with mystic food, +</p> +<p> +Still broodings tinct with a seraph's blood. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="45"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +SONG +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Creep into my heart, creep in, creep in, +</p> +<p> +Afar from the fret, the toil and the din, +</p> +<p> +Where the spring of love forever flows, +</p> +<p> +As clear as light and as sweet as the rose; +</p> +<p> +(Creep into my heart), +</p> +<p> +Where the dreams never wilt but their tints refine, +</p> +<p> +Rooted in beautiful thoughts of thine; +</p> +<p> +Where morn falls cool on the soul, like sleep, +</p> +<p> +And the nights are tranquil and tranced and deep; +</p> +<p> +Where the fairest thing of all the fair +</p> +<p> +Thou art, who hast somehow crept in there, +</p> +<p> +Deep into my heart, +</p> +<p> +Deep into my heart. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="46"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +ECSTASY +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The shore-lark soars to his topmost flight, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Sings at the height where morning springs, +</p> +<p> +What though his voice be lost in the light, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The light comes dropping from his wings. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Mount, my soul, and sing at the height +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of thy clear flight in the light and the air, +</p> +<p> +Heard or unheard in the night in the light +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Sing there! Sing there! +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<p class="section"> +LYRICS, SONGS AND SONNETS +</p> +<a name="49"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +MEDITATION AT PERUGIA +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The sunset colours mingle in the sky, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And over all the Umbrian valleys flow; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Trevi is touched with wonder, and the glow +</p> +<p> +Finds high Perugia crimson with renown; +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Spello is bright; +</p> +<p> +And, ah! St. Francis, thy deep-treasured town, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Enshrined Assisi, fully fronts the light. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +This valley knew thee many a year ago; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Thy shrine was built by simpleness of heart; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And from the wound called life thou drew'st the smart: +</p> +<p> +Unquiet kings came to thee and the sad poor— +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Thou gavest them peace; +</p> +<p> +Far as the Sultan and the Iberian shore +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Thy faith and abnegation gave release. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Deeper our faith, but not so sweet as thine; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Wider our view, but not so sanely sure; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +For we are troubled by the witching lure +</p> +<p> +Of Science, with her lightning on the mist; +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Science that clears, +</p> +<p> +Yet never quite discloses what she wist, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +And leaves us half with doubts and half with fears. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +We act her dreams that shadow forth the truth, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That somehow here the very nerves of God +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Thrill the old fires, the rocks, the primal sod; +</p> +<p> +We throw our speech upon the open air, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +And it is caught +</p> +<p> +Far down the world, to sing and murmur there; +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Our common words are with deep wonder fraught. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Shall not the subtle spirit of man contrive +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To charm the tremulous ether of the soul, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Wherein it breathes?—until, from pole to pole, +</p> +<p> +Those who are kin shall speak, as face to face, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +From star to star, +</p> +<p> +Even from earth to the most secret place, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Where God and the supreme archangels are. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Shall we not prove, what thou hast faintly taught, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That all the powers of earth and air are one, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That one deep law persists from mole to sun? +</p> +<p> +Shall we not search the heart of God and find +</p> +<p class="i4"> +That law empearled, +</p> +<p> +Until all things that are in matter and mind +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Throb with the secret that began the world? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Yea, we have journeyed since thou trod'st the road, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Yet still we keep the foreappointed quest; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +While the last sunset smoulders in the West, +</p> +<p> +Still the great faith with the undying hope +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Upsprings and flows, +</p> +<p> +While dim Assisi fades on the wide slope +</p> +<p class="i4"> +And the deep Umbrian valleys fill with rose. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="53"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +AT WILLIAM MACLENNAN'S GRAVE +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here where the cypress tall +</p> +<p> +Shadows the stucco wall, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Bronze and deep, +</p> +<p> +Where the chrysanthemums blow, +</p> +<p> +And the roses—blood and snow— +</p> +<p class="i4"> +He lies asleep. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Florence dreameth afar; +</p> +<p> +Memories of foray and war, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Murmur still; +</p> +<p> +The Certosa crowns with a cold +</p> +<p> +Cloud of snow and gold +</p> +<p class="i4"> +The olive hill. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +What has he now for the streams +</p> +<p> +Born sweet and deep with dreams +</p> +<p class="i4"> +From the cedar meres? +</p> +<p> +Only the Arno's flow, +</p> +<p> +Turbid, and weary, and slow +</p> +<p class="i4"> +With wrath and tears. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +What has he now for the song +</p> +<p> +Of the boatmen, joyous and long, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Where the rapids shine? +</p> +<p> +Only the sound of toil, +</p> +<p> +Where the peasants press the soil +</p> +<p class="i4"> +For the oil and wine. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Spirit-fellow in sooth +</p> +<p> +With bold La Salle and Duluth, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +And La Vérandrye,— +</p> +<p> +Nothing he has but rest, +</p> +<p> +Deep in his cypress nest +</p> +<p class="i4"> +With memory. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Hearts of steel and of fire, +</p> +<p> +Why do ye love and aspire, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +When follows +</p> +<p> +Death—all your passionate deeds, +</p> +<p> +Garnered with rust and with weeds +</p> +<p class="i4"> +In the hollows? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +God that hardened the steel, +</p> +<p> +Bid the flame leap and reel, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Gave us unrest; +</p> +<p> +We act in the dusk afar, +</p> +<p> +In a star beyond your star, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +His behest. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"We leave you dreams and names +</p> +<p> +Still we are iron and flames, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Biting and bright; +</p> +<p> +Into some virgin world, +</p> +<p> +Champions, we are hurled, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Of venture and fight." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here where the shadows fall, +</p> +<p> +From the cypress by the wall, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Where the roses are— +</p> +<p> +Here is a dream and a name, +</p> +<p> +There, like a rose of flame, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Rises—a star. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="56"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE WOOD-SPRING TO THE POET +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Dawn-cool, dew-cool +</p> +<p> +Gleams the surface of my pool +</p> +<p> +Bird haunted, fern enchanted, +</p> +<p> +Where but tempered spirits rule; +</p> +<p> +Stars do not trace their mystic lines +</p> +<p> +In my confines; +</p> +<p> +I take a double night within my breast +</p> +<p> +A night of darkened heavens, a night of leaves, +</p> +<p> +And in the two-fold dark I hear the owl +</p> +<p> +Puff at his velvet horn +</p> +<p> +And the wolves howl. +</p> +<p> +Even daylight comes with a touch of gold +</p> +<p> +Not overbold, +</p> +<p> +And shows dwarf-cornel and the twin-flowers, +</p> +<p> +Below the balsam bowers, +</p> +<p> +Their tints enamelled in my dew-drop shield. +</p> +<p> +Too small even for a thirsty fawn +</p> +<p> +To quench upon, +</p> +<p> +I hold my crystal at one level +</p> +<p> +There where you see the liquid bevel +</p> +<p> +Break in silver and go free +</p> +<p> +Singing to its destiny. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Give, Poet, give! +</p> +<p> +Thus only shalt thou live. +</p> +<p> +Give! for 'tis thy joyous doom +</p> +<p> +To charm, to comfort, to illume. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Speak to the maiden and the child +</p> +<p> +With accents deep and mild, +</p> +<p> +Tell them of the world so wide +</p> +<p> +In words of wonder and pure pride, +</p> +<p> +Touched with the rapture of surprise +</p> +<p> +That dwells in a child angel's eyes, +</p> +<p> +Awed with the strangeness of new-birth, +</p> +<p> +When the flaming seraph sent +</p> +<p> +To lead him into Paradise, +</p> +<p> +Calls his name with the mother's voice +</p> +<p> +He has just ceased to hear on earth. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Give to the youth his heart's content, +</p> +<p> +But power with prudence blent, +</p> +<p> +Thicken his sinews with love, +</p> +<p> +With courage his heart prove, +</p> +<p> +Till over his spirit shall roll +</p> +<p> +The vast wave of control. +</p> +<p> +In the cages and dens of strife, +</p> +<p> +Where men draw breath +</p> +<p> +Thick with a curse at the dear thing called life, +</p> +<p> +Give them courage to bear, +</p> +<p> +Strength to aspire and dare; +</p> +<p> +Give them hopes rooted in stone, +</p> +<p> +That the loveliest flowers take on, +</p> +<p> +Bind on their brows with a gesture free +</p> +<p> +The palm green bays of liberty. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Give to the mothers of men +</p> +<p> +The knowledge of joy in pain, +</p> +<p> +Give them the sense of reward +</p> +<p> +That grew in the breast of the Lord +</p> +<p> +On the dawn of the seventh morn; +</p> +<p> +For 'tis they who re-create the world +</p> +<p> +Whenever a child is born. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Give, Poet, give! +</p> +<p> +Give them songs that charm and fill +</p> +<p> +The soul with an alluring pleasure, +</p> +<p> +Prelusive to a deeper thrill, +</p> +<p> +A richer tone, a fuller measure; +</p> +<p> +Like voices, veiled with hidden treasure, +</p> +<p> +Of angels on a windy morning, +</p> +<p> +That first far off, then all together, +</p> +<p> +Come with a glorious clarion calling; +</p> +<p> +And when they swoon beneath the spell +</p> +<p> +Recapture them to hear the echoes +</p> +<p> +Falling—falling—falling. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +To those stoned for the truth +</p> +<p> +Give ruth; +</p> +<p> +Give manna for the mourner's mouth +</p> +<p> +Sovereign as air; +</p> +<p> +For his heart's drouth +</p> +<p> +A prayer. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Give to dead souls that mock at life +</p> +<p> +Aweary of their cankered hearts, +</p> +<p> +Weary of sleep and weary of strife, +</p> +<p> +Weary of markets and of arts,— +</p> +<p> +Helve them a song of life, +</p> +<p> +Two-edged with joyous life, +</p> +<p> +Tempered trusty with life, +</p> +<p> +Proud pointed with wild life, +</p> +<p> +Plunge it as lightning plunges, +</p> +<p> +Stab them to life! +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Give to those who grieve in secret, +</p> +<p> +Those who bear the sorrows of earth, +</p> +<p> +The deep unappeasable longings +</p> +<p> +Which beset them with throngings and throngings, +</p> +<p> +(As, on a windless night, +</p> +<p> +Through the fold of a dark mantle furled, +</p> +<p> +Gleams on our world, world after unknown world) +</p> +<p> +Give them peace, +</p> +<p> +Wide as the veil that hides God's face, +</p> +<p> +The pure plenitude of space, +</p> +<p> +In which our universe is but a glittering crease,— +</p> +<p> +Give them such peace. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Give, Poet, give! +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Thus only shalt thou live: +</p> +<p> +Give as we give who are hidden +</p> +<p> +In myriad dimples of rock and fern; +</p> +<p> +Give as we give unbidden +</p> +<p> +To tarn and rillet and burn, +</p> +<p> +Where the lake dreams, +</p> +<p> +Where the fall is hurled, +</p> +<p> +Striving to sweeten +</p> +<p> +The oceans of the world. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Should my song for a moment cease, +</p> +<p> +Silence fall in the woodland peace; +</p> +<p> +Should I wilfully check the flow +</p> +<p> +Bubbling and dancing up from below; +</p> +<p> +Say to my heart be still—be still, +</p> +<p> +Let the murmur die with the rill; +</p> +<p> +Then should the glittering, grey sea-things +</p> +<p> +Sigh as they wallow the under springs; +</p> +<p> +Where the deep brine-pools used to lie +</p> +<p> +Deserts vast would stare at the sky, +</p> +<p> +And even thy rich heart +</p> +<p> +(O Poet, Poet!) +</p> +<p> +Even thy rich heart run dry. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="63"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE NOVEMBER PANSY +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +This is not June,—by Autumn's stratagem +</p> +<p> +Thou hast been ambushed in the chilly air; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Upon thy fragile crest virginal fair +</p> +<p> +The rime has clustered in a diadem; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The early frost +</p> +<p> +Has nipped thy roots and tried thy tender stem, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Seared thy gold petals, all thy charm is lost. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Thyself the only sunshine: in obeying +</p> +<p> +The law that bids thee blossom in the world +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Thy little flag of courage is unfurled; +</p> +<p> +Inherent pansy-memories are saying +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That there is sun, +</p> +<p> +That there is dew and colour and warmth repaying +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The rain, the starlight when the light is done. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +These are the gaunt forms of the hollyhocks +</p> +<p> +That shower the seeds from out their withered purses; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Here were the pinks; there the nasturtium nurses +</p> +<p> +The last of colour in her gaudy smocks; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The ruins yonder +</p> +<p> +Show but a vestige of the flaming phlox; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The poppies on their faded glory ponder. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here visited the vagrant humming-bird, +</p> +<p> +The nebulous darting green, the ruby-throated; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The warm fans of the butterfly here floated; +</p> +<p> +Those two nests reared the robins, and the third +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Was left forlorn +</p> +<p> +Muffled in lilacs, whence the perfume stirred +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The tremulous eyelids of the dewy morn. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Thy sisters of the early summer-time +</p> +<p> +Were masquers in this carnival of pleasure; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Each in her turn unrolled her golden treasure, +</p> +<p> +And thou hast but the ashes of the prime; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +'Tis life's own malice +</p> +<p> +That brings the peasant of a race sublime +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To feed her flock around her ruined palace. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Yet for withstanding thus the autumn's dart +</p> +<p> +Some deeper pansy-insight will atone; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +It comes to souls neglected and alone, +</p> +<p> +Something that prodigals in pleasure's mart +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Lose in the whirl; +</p> +<p> +The peasant child will have a purer heart +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Than the vain favourite of the vanished earl. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And far above this tragic world of ours +</p> +<p> +There is a world of a diviner fashion, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A mystic world, a world of dreams and passion +</p> +<p> +That each aspiring thing creates and dowers +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With its own light; +</p> +<p> +Where even the frail spirits of trees and flowers +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Pause, and reach out, and pass from height to height. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here will we claim for thee another fief, +</p> +<p> +An upland where a glamour haunts the meadows, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Snow peaks arise enrobed in rosy shadows, +</p> +<p> +Fairer the under slopes with vine and sheaf +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And shimmering lea; +</p> +<p> +The paradise of a simple old belief, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That flourished in the Islands of the Sea. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +A snow-cool cistern in the fairy hills +</p> +<p> +Shall feed thy roots with moisture clear as dew; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A ferny shield to temper the warm blue +</p> +<p> +That heaven is; a thrush that thrills +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To answer his mate, +</p> +<p> +And when above the ferns the shadow fills, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Fireflies to render darkness consolate. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here muse and brood, moulding thy seed and die +</p> +<p> +And re-create thy form a thousand fold, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Mellowing thy petals to more lucent gold, +</p> +<p> +Till they expand, tissues of amber sky; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Till the full hour, +</p> +<p> +And the full light and the fulfilling eye +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Shall find amid the ferns the perfect flower. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="68"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE HEIGHT OF LAND +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here is the height of land: +</p> +<p> +The watershed on either hand +</p> +<p> +Goes down to Hudson Bay +</p> +<p> +Or Lake Superior; +</p> +<p> +The stars are up, and far away +</p> +<p> +The wind sounds in the wood, wearier +</p> +<p> +Than the long Ojibway cadence +</p> +<p> +In which Potàn the Wise +</p> +<p> +Declares the ills of life +</p> +<p> +And Chees-que-ne-ne makes a mournful sound +</p> +<p> +Of acquiescence. The fires burn low +</p> +<p> +With just sufficient glow +</p> +<p> +To light the flakes of ash that play +</p> +<p> +At being moths, and flutter away +</p> +<p> +To fall in the dark and die as ashes: +</p> +<p> +Here there is peace in the lofty air, +</p> +<p> +And Something comes by flashes +</p> +<p> +Deeper than peace;— +</p> +<p> +The spruces have retired a little space +</p> +<p> +And left a field of sky in violet shadow +</p> +<p> +With stars like marigolds in a water-meadow. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Now the Indian guides are dead asleep; +</p> +<p> +There is no sound unless the soul can hear +</p> +<p> +The gathering of the waters in their sources. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +We have come up through the spreading lakes +</p> +<p> +From level to level,— +</p> +<p> +Pitching our tents sometimes over a revel +</p> +<p> +Of roses that nodded all night, +</p> +<p> +Dreaming within our dreams, +</p> +<p> +To wake at dawn and find that they were captured +</p> +<p> +With no dew on their leaves; +</p> +<p> +Sometimes mid sheaves +</p> +<p> +Of braken and dwarf-cornel, and again +</p> +<p> +On a wide blue-berry plain +</p> +<p> +Brushed with the shimmer of a bluebird's wing; +</p> +<p> +A rocky islet followed +</p> +<p> +With one lone poplar and a single nest +</p> +<p> +Of white-throat-sparrows that took no rest +</p> +<p> +But sang in dreams or woke to sing,— +</p> +<p> +To the last portage and the height of land—: +</p> +<p> +Upon one hand +</p> +<p> +The lonely north enlaced with lakes and streams, +</p> +<p> +And the enormous targe of Hudson Bay, +</p> +<p> +Glimmering all night +</p> +<p> +In the cold arctic light; +</p> +<p> +On the other hand +</p> +<p> +The crowded southern land +</p> +<p> +With all the welter of the lives of men. +</p> +<p> +But here is peace, and again +</p> +<p> +That Something comes by flashes +</p> +<p> +Deeper than peace,—a spell +</p> +<p> +Golden and inappellable +</p> +<p> +That gives the inarticulate part +</p> +<p> +Of our strange being one moment of release +</p> +<p> +That seems more native than the touch of time, +</p> +<p> +And we must answer in chime; +</p> +<p> +Though yet no man may tell +</p> +<p> +The secret of that spell +</p> +<p> +Golden and inappellable. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Now are there sounds walking in the wood, +</p> +<p> +And all the spruces shiver and tremble, +</p> +<p> +And the stars move a little in their courses. +</p> +<p> +The ancient disturber of solitude +</p> +<p> +Breathes a pervasive sigh, +</p> +<p> +And the soul seems to hear +</p> +<p> +The gathering of the waters at their sources; +</p> +<p> +Then quiet ensues and pure starlight and dark; +</p> +<p> +The region-spirit murmurs in meditation, +</p> +<p> +The heart replies in exaltation +</p> +<p> +And echoes faintly like an inland shell +</p> +<p> +Ghost tremors of the spell; +</p> +<p> +Thought reawakens and is linked again +</p> +<p> +With all the welter of the lives of men. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here on the uplands where the air is clear +</p> +<p> +We think of life as of a stormy scene,— +</p> +<p> +Of tempest, of revolt and desperate shock; +</p> +<p> +And here, where we can think, on the bright uplands +</p> +<p> +Where the air is clear, we deeply brood on life +</p> +<p> +Until the tempest parts, and it appears +</p> +<p> +As simple as to the shepherd seems his flock: +</p> +<p> +A Something to be guided by ideals— +</p> +<p> +That in themselves are simple and serene— +</p> +<p> +Of noble deed to foster noble thought, +</p> +<p> +And noble thought to image noble deed, +</p> +<p> +Till deed and thought shall interpenetrate, +</p> +<p> +Making life lovelier, till we come to doubt +</p> +<p> +Whether the perfect beauty that escapes +</p> +<p> +Is beauty of deed or thought or some high thing +</p> +<p> +Mingled of both, a greater boon than either: +</p> +<p> +Thus we have seen in the retreating tempest +</p> +<p> +The victor-sunlight merge with the ruined rain, +</p> +<p> +And from the rain and sunlight spring the rainbow. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The ancient disturber of solitude +</p> +<p> +Stirs his ancestral potion in the gloom, +</p> +<p> +And the dark wood +</p> +<p> +Is stifled with the pungent fume +</p> +<p> +Of charred earth burnt to the bone +</p> +<p> +That takes the place of air. +</p> +<p> +Then sudden I remember when and where,— +</p> +<p> +The last weird lakelet foul with weedy growths +</p> +<p> +And slimy viscid things the spirit loathes, +</p> +<p> +Skin of vile water over viler mud +</p> +<p> +Where the paddle stirred unutterable stenches, +</p> +<p> +And the canoes seemed heavy with fear, +</p> +<p> +Not to be urged toward the fatal shore +</p> +<p> +Where a bush fire, smouldering, with sudden roar +</p> +<p> +Leaped on a cedar and smothered it with light +</p> +<p> +And terror. It had left the portage-height +</p> +<p> +A tangle of slanted spruces burned to the roots, +</p> +<p> +Covered still with patches of bright fire +</p> +<p> +Smoking with incense of the fragrant resin +</p> +<p> +That even then began to thin and lessen +</p> +<p> +Into the gloom and glimmer of ruin. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +'Tis overpast. How strange the stars have grown; +</p> +<p> +The presage of extinction glows on their crests +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And they are beautied with impermanence; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +They shall be after the race of men +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And mourn for them who snared their fiery pinions, +</p> +<p> +Entangled in the meshes of bright words. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +A lemming stirs the fern and in the mosses +</p> +<p> +Eft-minded things feel the air change, and dawn +</p> +<p> +Tolls out from the dark belfries of the spruces. +</p> +<p> +How often in the autumn of the world +</p> +<p> +Shall the crystal shrine of dawning be rebuilt +</p> +<p> +With deeper meaning! Shall the poet then, +</p> +<p> +Wrapped in his mantle on the height of land, +</p> +<p> +Brood on the welter of the lives of men +</p> +<p> +And dream of his ideal hope and promise +</p> +<p> +In the blush sunrise? Shall he base his flight +</p> +<p> +Upon a more compelling law than Love +</p> +<p> +As Life's atonement; shall the vision +</p> +<p> +Of noble deed and noble thought immingled +</p> +<p> +Seem as uncouth to him as the pictograph +</p> +<p> +Scratched on the cave side by the cave-dweller +</p> +<p> +To us of the Christ-time? Shall he stand +</p> +<p> +With deeper joy, with more complex emotion, +</p> +<p> +In closer commune with divinity, +</p> +<p> +With the deep fathomed, with the firmament charted, +</p> +<p> +With life as simple as a sheep-boy's song, +</p> +<p> +What lies beyond a romaunt that was read +</p> +<p> +Once on a morn of storm and laid aside +</p> +<p> +Memorious with strange immortal memories? +</p> +<p> +Or shall he see the sunrise as I see it +</p> +<p> +In shoals of misty fire the deluge-light +</p> +<p> +Dashes upon and whelms with purer radiance, +</p> +<p> +And feel the lulled earth, older in pulse and motion, +</p> +<p> +Turn the rich lands and the inundant oceans +</p> +<p> +To the flushed color, and hear as now I hear +</p> +<p> +The thrill of life beat up the planet's margin +</p> +<p> +And break in the clear susurrus of deep joy +</p> +<p> +That echoes and reëchoes in my being? +</p> +<p> +O Life is intuition the measure of knowledge +</p> +<p> +And do I stand with heart entranced and burning +</p> +<p> +At the zenith of our wisdom when I feel +</p> +<p> +The long light flow, the long wind pause, the deep +</p> +<p> +Influx of spirit, of which no man may tell +</p> +<p> +The Secret, golden and inappellable? +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="77"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +NEW YEAR'S NIGHT, 1916 +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The Earth moans in her sleep +</p> +<p> +Like an old mother +</p> +<p> +Whose sons have gone to the war, +</p> +<p> +Who weeps silently in her heart +</p> +<p> +Till dreams comfort her. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The Earth tosses +</p> +<p> +As if she would shake off humanity, +</p> +<p> +A burden too heavy to be borne, +</p> +<p> +And free of the pest of intolerable men, +</p> +<p> +Spin with woods and waters +</p> +<p> +Joyously in the clear heavens +</p> +<p> +In the beautiful cool rains, +</p> +<p> +Bearing gladly the dumb animals, +</p> +<p> +And sleep when the time comes +</p> +<p> +Glistening in the remains of sunlight +</p> +<p> +With marmoreal innocency. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Be comforted, old mother, +</p> +<p> +Whose sons have gone to the war; +</p> +<p> +And be assured, O Earth, +</p> +<p> +Of your burden of passionate men, +</p> +<p> +For without them who would dream the dreams +</p> +<p> +That encompass you with glory, +</p> +<p> +Who would gather your youth +</p> +<p> +And store it in the jar of remembrance, +</p> +<p> +Who would comfort your old heart +</p> +<p> +With tales told of the heroes, +</p> +<p> +Who would cover your face with the cerecloth +</p> +<p> +All rustling with stars, +</p> +<p> +And mourn in the ashes of sunlight, +</p> +<p> +Mourn your marmoreal innocency? +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="79"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +FRAGMENT OF AN ODE TO CANADA +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"> +This is the land! +</p> +<p> +It lies outstretched a vision of delight, +</p> +<p> +Bent like a shield between the silver seas +</p> +<p> +It flashes back the hauteur of the sun; +</p> +<p> +Yet teems with humblest beauties, still a part +</p> +<p> +Of its Titanic and ebullient heart. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Land of the glacial, lonely mountain ranges, +</p> +<p> +Where nothing haps save vast Æonian changes, +</p> +<p> +The slow moraine, the avalanche's wings, +</p> +<p> +Summer and Sun,—the elemental things, +</p> +<p> +Pulses of Awe,—Winter and Night and the lightnings. +</p> +<p> +Land of the pines that rear their dusky spars +</p> +<p> +A ready midnight for the earliest stars. +</p> +<p> +The land of rivers, rivulets, and rills, +</p> +<p> +Straining incessant everyway to the sea +</p> +<p> +With their white thunder harnessed in the mills, +</p> +<p> +Turning one wealth to another wealth perpetually; +</p> +<p> +Spinning the lightning with dynamic spindles, +</p> +<p> +Till some far city dowered with fire enkindles. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The land of fruit, fine-flavoured with the frost, +</p> +<p> +Land of the cattle, the deep-chested host, +</p> +<p> +The happy-souled, that contemplate the hours, +</p> +<p> +Their dew-laps buried in the grass and flowers. +</p> +<p> +And, O! the myriad-miracle of the grain +</p> +<p> +Cresting the hill, brimming the level plain, +</p> +<p> +The miracle of the flower and milk and kernel, +</p> +<p> +Nurtured by sun-fire and frost-fire supernal, +</p> +<p> +Until the farmer turns it in his hand, +</p> +<p> +The million-millioned miracle of the land. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And yet with all these pastoral and heroic graces, +</p> +<p> +Our simplest flowers wear the loveliest faces; +</p> +<p> +The sparrows are our most enraptured singers, +</p> +<p> +And round their songs the fondest memory lingers; +</p> +<p> +Our forests tower and tremble, star-enchanted, +</p> +<p> +Their roots are by the timid spirits haunted +</p> +<p> +Of hermit thrushes,—trancèd is the air, +</p> +<p> +Ever in doubt when they shall sing or where; +</p> +<p> +The mountains may with ice and avalanche wrestle, +</p> +<p> +Far down their rugged steeps dimple and nestle +</p> +<p> +The still, translucent, turquoise-hearted tarns. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And Thou, O Power, that 'stablishest the Nation, +</p> +<p> +Give wisdom in the midst of our elation; +</p> +<p> +Who are so free that we forget we are— +</p> +<p> +That freedom brings the deepest obligation: +</p> +<p> +Grant us this presage for a guiding star, +</p> +<p> +To lead the van of Peace, not with a craven spirit, +</p> +<p> +But with the consciousness that we inherit +</p> +<p> +What built the Empire out of blood and fire, +</p> +<p> +And can smite, too, in passion and with ire. +</p> +<p> +Purge us of Pride, who are so quick in vaunting +</p> +<p> +Thy gift, this land, that is in nothing wanting; +</p> +<p> +Give Mind to match the glory of the gift, +</p> +<p> +Give great Ideals to bridge the sordid rift +</p> +<p> +Between our heritage and our use of it. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Then in some day of terror for the world, +</p> +<p> +When all the flags of the Furies are unfurled, +</p> +<p> +When Truth and Justice, wildered and unknit, +</p> +<p> +Shall turn for help to this young, radiant land, +</p> +<p> +We shall be quick to see and understand: +</p> +<p> +What shall we answer in that stricken hour? +</p> +<p> +Shall the deep thought be pregnant then with power? +</p> +<p> +Shall the few words spring swift and grave and clear? +</p> +<p> +Use well the present moment. They shall hear. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +August, 1911. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="84"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +FANTASIA +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here in Samarcand they offer emeralds, +</p> +<p> +Pure as frozen drops of sea-water, +</p> +<p> +Rubies, pale as dew-ponds stained with slaughter, +</p> +<p> +Where the fairies fought for a king's daughter +</p> +<p> +In the elfin upland. +</p> +<p> +Here they sell you jade and calcedony, +</p> +<p> +And the matrix of the turquoise, +</p> +<p> +Spheres of onyx held in eagles' claws, +</p> +<p> +But they keep the gems as far asunder +</p> +<p> +From the dull stones as the lightning from the thunder; +</p> +<p> +They can never come together +</p> +<p> +On the mats of Turkish leather +</p> +<p> +In the booths of Samarcand. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here they sell you balls of nard and honey, +</p> +<p> +And squat jars of clarid butter, +</p> +<p> +And the cheese from Kurdistan. +</p> +<p> +When you offer Frankish money, +</p> +<p> +Then they scowl and curse and mutter, +</p> +<p> +Deep in Kurdish or Persan +</p> +<p> +For they want your heart out and my hand +</p> +<p> +In the booths of Samarcand. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +They would sell your heart's blood separate, +</p> +<p> +In a jar with a gold brim, +</p> +<p> +With a text of burning hatred +</p> +<p> +Coiled around the rim; +</p> +<p> +They would sell my hand upon a beam of teak wood, +</p> +<p> +In the other scale a feather curled; +</p> +<p> +They would sell your heart upon a silver balance +</p> +<p> +Weighed against the world. +</p> +<p> +But your heart could never touch my hand, +</p> +<p> +They could never come together +</p> +<p> +On the mats of Turkish leather +</p> +<p> +In the booths of Samarcand. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="86"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE LOVER TO HIS LASS +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Crown her with stars, this angel of our planet, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Cover her with morning, this thing of pure delight, +</p> +<p> +Mantle her with midnight till a mortal cannot +</p> +<p class="i2"> +See her for the garments of the light and the night. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +How far I wandered, worlds away and far away, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Heard a voice but knew it not in the clear cold, +</p> +<p> +Many a wide circle and many a wan star away, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Dwelling in the chambers where the worlds were growing old. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Saw them growing old and heard them falling +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Like ripe fruit when a tree is in the wind; +</p> +<p> +Saw the seraphs gather them, their clarion voices calling +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In rounds of cheering labour till the orchard floor was thinned. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Saw a whole universe turn to its setting, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Old and cold and weary, gray and cold as death, +</p> +<p> +But before mine eyes were veiled in forgetting, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Something always caught my soul and held its breath. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Caught it up and held it, now I know the reason; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Governed it and soothed it, now I know why; +</p> +<p> +Nurtured it and trained it and kept it for the season +</p> +<p class="i2"> +When new worlds should blossom in the springtime sky. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +How have they blossomed, see the sky is like a garden! +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Ah! how fresh the worlds look hanging on the slope! +</p> +<p> +Pluck one and wear it, Love, and ask the Gardener's pardon, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Pluck out the Pleiads like a spray of heliotrope. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +See Aldebaran like a red rose clamber, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +See brave Betelgeux pranked with poppy light; +</p> +<p> +This young earth must float in floods of amber +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Glowing with a crocus flame in the dells of night. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O you cannot cheat the soul of an inborn ambition, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +'Tis a naked viewless thing living in its thought, +</p> +<p> +But it mounts through errors and by valleys of contrition +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Till it conquers destiny and finds the thing it sought. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Crown her with stars, this angel of our planet, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Cover her with morning, this thing of pure delight, +</p> +<p> +Mantle her with midnight till a mortal cannot +</p> +<p class="i2"> +See her for the garments of the light and the night. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="90"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE GHOST'S STORY +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +All my life long I heard the step +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of some one I would know, +</p> +<p> +Break softly in upon my days +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And lightly come and go. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +A foot so brisk I said must bear +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A heart that's clean and clear; +</p> +<p> +If that companion blithe would come, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +I should be happy here. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But though I waited long and well, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +He never came at all, +</p> +<p> +I grew aweary of the void, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Even of the light foot-fall. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +From loneliness to loneliness +</p> +<p class="i2"> +I felt my spirit grope— +</p> +<p> +At last I knew the uttermost, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The loneliness of hope. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And just upon the border land, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where flesh and spirit part, +</p> +<p> +I knew the secret foot-fall was +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The beating of my heart. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="92"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +NIGHT +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The night is old, and all the world +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Is wearied out with strife; +</p> +<p> +A long gray mist lies heavy and wan +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Above the house of life. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Four stars burn up and are unquelled +</p> +<p class="i2"> +By the low, shrunken moon; +</p> +<p> +Her spirit draws her down and down— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +She shall be buried soon. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +There is a sound that is no sound, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Yet fine it falls and clear, +</p> +<p> +The whisper of the spinning earth +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To the tranced atmosphere. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +An odour lives where once was air, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A strange, unearthly scent, +</p> +<p> +From the burning of the four great stars +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Within the firmament. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The universe, deathless and old, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Breathes, yet is void of breath: +</p> +<p> +As still as death that seems to move +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And yet is still as death. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="94"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE APPARITION +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Gentle angel with your mantle, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +All of tender green, +</p> +<p> +I was yearning for a vision +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of the life unseen. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +When you hovered in the sunset, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Just as rain was done; +</p> +<p> +Where the dropping from the poplars +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Seemed like rain begun. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +There you gathered forming slowly +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Rounding into view: +</p> +<p> +All your vesture glowed like verdure +</p> +<p class="i2"> +When the sap is new. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Then you mutely gave your warning +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And I felt the stress +</p> +<p> +Of its passion and its presage +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And its utterness. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +There you swayed one tranquil moment, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Mystically fair, +</p> +<p> +Then you were not of the sunset, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Were not in the air. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="96"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +AT SEA +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Three are emerald pools in the sea, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And wing-like flashes of light; +</p> +<p> +The sea is bound with the heavens +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In a large delight. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Night comes out of the east +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And rushes down on the sun; +</p> +<p> +The emerald pools and the light pools +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Are darkened and done. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Our boat dips and cleaves onward, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Careless of night or of light, +</p> +<p> +Following the line of her compass +</p> +<p class="i2"> +By her engines' might. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Through the desert of air and of water; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Like the lonely soul of man, +</p> +<p> +Following her fate to the ending, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Unaware of the hidden plan. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Sure only of battle and longing, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of the pain and the quest, +</p> +<p> +And beyond in the darkness somewhere +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Sure of her rest. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="98"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +MADONNA WITH TWO ANGELS +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Under the sky without a stain +</p> +<p> +The long, ripe, rippling of the grain; +</p> +<p> +Light, broadcast from the golden oats +</p> +<p> +Over the blackberry fences floats. +</p> +<p> +Madonna sits in a cedar chair +</p> +<p> +Tranquillized by the warm, still air; +</p> +<p> +One of the angels asleep on her knee +</p> +<p> +Under the shade of an apple tree. +</p> +<p> +The other angel holds a doll, +</p> +<p> +Covered warm in a tiny shawl; +</p> +<p> +The toy is supposed to be fast asleep +</p> +<p> +As the sister angel: in dimples deep +</p> +<p> +The grave, sweet charm on the baby face +</p> +<p> +Repeats the look of maturer grace +</p> +<p> +That hovers about Madonna's eyes, +</p> +<p> +One of the heavenly mysteries +</p> +<p> +From far ethereal latitudes +</p> +<p> +Where neither doubt nor trouble intrudes. +</p> +<p> +Ponder here in the orchard nest +</p> +<p> +On the truth of life made manifest: +</p> +<p> +The struggle and effort was all to prove +</p> +<p> +That the best of the world is home and love. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="100"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +MID-AUGUST +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +From the upland hidden, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where the hill is sunny +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Tawny like pure honey +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In the August heat, +</p> +<p> +Memories float unbidden +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where the thicket serries +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Fragrant with ripe berries +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And the milk-weed sweet. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Like a prayer-mat holy +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Are the patterned mosses +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Which the twin-flower crosses +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With her flowerless vine; +</p> +<p> +In fragile melancholy +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The pallid ghost flowers hover +</p> +<p class="i2"> +As if to guard and cover +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The shadow of a shrine. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Where the pine-linnet lingered +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The pale water searches, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The roots of gleaming birches +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Draw silver from the lake; +</p> +<p> +The ripples, liquid-fingered, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Plucking the root-layers, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Fairy like lute players +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Lulling music make. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O to lie here brooding +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where the pine-tree column +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Rises dark and solemn +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To the airy lair, +</p> +<p> +Where, the day eluding, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Night is couched dream laden, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Like a deep witch-maiden +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Hidden in her hair. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +In filmy evanescence +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Wraithlike scents assemble, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Then dissolve and tremble +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A little until they die; +</p> +<p> +Spirits of the florescence +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where the bees searched and tarried +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Till the blossoms all were married +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In the days before July. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Light has lost its splendour, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Light refined and sifted, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Cool light and dream drifted +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Ventures even where, +</p> +<p> +(Seeping silver tender) +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In the dim recesses, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Trembling mid her tresses, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Hides the maiden hair. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Covered with the shy-light, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Filling in the hushes, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Slide the tawny thrushes +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Calling to their broods, +</p> +<p> +Hoarding till the twilight +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The song that made for noon-days +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of the amorous June days +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Preludes and interludes. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The joy that I am feeling +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Is there something in it +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Unlike the warble the linnet +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Phrases and intones? +</p> +<p> +Or is a like thought stealing +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With a rapture fine, free +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Through the happy pine tree +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Ripening her cones? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +In some high existence +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In another planet +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where their poets cannot +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Know our birds and flowers, +</p> +<p> +Does the same persistence +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Give the dreams they issue +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Something like the tissue +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of these dreams of ours? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O to lie athinking— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Moods and whims! I fancy +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Only necromancy +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Could the web unroll, +</p> +<p> +Only somehow linking +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Beauties that meet and mingle +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In this quiet dingle +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With the beauty of the whole. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="105"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +MIST AND FROST +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Veil-like and beautiful +</p> +<p> +Gathered the dutiful +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Mist in the night, +</p> +<p> +True to the messaging, +</p> +<p> +Dreamful and presaging +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Vapour and light. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Ghostly and chill it is, +</p> +<p> +Pallid and still it is, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Sudden uprist; +</p> +<p> +What is there tragical, +</p> +<p> +Moving or magical, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Hid in the mist? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Millions of essences, +</p> +<p> +Fairy-like presences +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Formless as yet; +</p> +<p> +Light-riven spangles, +</p> +<p> +Crystalline tangles +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Floating unset. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Frost will come shepherding +</p> +<p> +Nowise enjeoparding +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Frondage or flower; +</p> +<p> +Just a degree of it, +</p> +<p> +Nought can we see of it +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Only its power. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Earth like a Swimmer +</p> +<p> +Plunged into the dimmer +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Wave of the night, +</p> +<p> +Now is uprisen, +</p> +<p> +An Elysian vision +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Of spray and of light. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +'Tis the intangible +</p> +<p> +Delicate frangible +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Secret of mist, +</p> +<p> +Breathing may banish it, +</p> +<p> +Thought may evanish it,— +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Ponder and whist! +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Passionless purity, +</p> +<p> +Calmness in surety +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Dwells everywhere, +</p> +<p> +A winnowed whiteness, +</p> +<p> +A lunar lightness +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Glows in the air. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But in the heart of it +</p> +<p> +Every least part of it +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Blooms with the charm, +</p> +<p> +Star-shape and frondage +</p> +<p> +Broken from bondage +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Forged into form. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Crystals encrusted, +</p> +<p> +Diamonds dusted +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Line everything, +</p> +<p> +Tiny the stencillings +</p> +<p> +Are as the pencillings +</p> +<p class="i4"> +On a moth's wing. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And O, what a wonder! +</p> +<p> +No farther asunder +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Than atoms are laid, +</p> +<p> +The arches and angles +</p> +<p> +Of star-froth and spangles +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Cast their own shade. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Out from the chalices, +</p> +<p> +The pigmy palaces +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Where the tint hides, +</p> +<p> +Opal and sapphire +</p> +<p> +Half-pearl and half-fire +</p> +<p class="i4"> +The colour slides; +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Till the frail miracle +</p> +<p> +Rapturous lyrical +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Flushes and glows +</p> +<p> +With a wraith of florescence +</p> +<p> +That tempers or lessens +</p> +<p class="i4"> +The light of the snows. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Held all aquiver,— +</p> +<p> +But now with a shiver +</p> +<p class="i4"> +The power of the sun +</p> +<p> +Dissolves the laces +</p> +<p> +Of the tender mazes, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +All is undone. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But the old Earth brooding, +</p> +<p> +All wisdom including, +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Affirms and assures +</p> +<p> +That above the material, +</p> +<p> +Triumphal imperial +</p> +<p class="i4"> +Beauty endures. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="110"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE BEGGAR AND THE ANGEL +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +An angel burdened with self-pity +</p> +<p> +Came out of heaven to a modern city. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +He saw a beggar on the street, +</p> +<p> +Where the tides of traffic meet. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +A pair of brass-bound hickory pegs +</p> +<p> +Brought him his pence instead of legs. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +A murky dog by him did lie, +</p> +<p> +Poodle, in part, his ancestry. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The angel stood and thought upon +</p> +<p> +This poodle-haunted beggar man. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"My life is grown a bore," said he, +</p> +<p> +"One long round of sciamachy; +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I think I'll do a little good, +</p> +<p> +By way of change from angelhood." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +He drew near to the beggar grim, +</p> +<p> +And gravely thus accosted him: +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"How would you like, my friend, to fly +</p> +<p> +All day through the translucent sky; +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +To knock at the door of the red leaven, +</p> +<p> +And even to enter the orthodox heaven? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +If you would care to know this joy, +</p> +<p> +I will surrender my employ, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And take your ills, collect your pelf, +</p> +<p> +An humble beggar like yourself. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +For ages you these joys may know, +</p> +<p> +While I shall suffer here below; +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And in the end we both may gain +</p> +<p> +Access of pleasure from my pain." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The stationary vagrant said, +</p> +<p> +"I do not mind, so go ahead." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The angel told the heavenly charm, +</p> +<p> +He felt a wing on either arm; +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"Good-day," he said, "this floating's queer +</p> +<p> +If I should want to change next year—?" +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"Pull out that feather!" the angel said, +</p> +<p> +"The one half black and the other half red." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The cripple cried, "Before you're through +</p> +<p> +You may get fagged, and if you do,—" +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The angel superciliously— +</p> +<p> +"My transformed friend, don't think of me. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I shall be happy day and night, +</p> +<p> +In doing what I think is right." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"So so," the feathered beggar said, +</p> +<p> +"Good-bye, I am just overhead." +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The angel when he grasped the dish, +</p> +<p> +Began to criticize his wish. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The seat was hard as granite rocks, +</p> +<p> +His real legs were in the box. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +His knees were cramped, his shins were sore, +</p> +<p> +The lying pegs stuck out before. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +In vain he clinked the dish and whined. +</p> +<p> +The passers-by seemed deaf and blind. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +As pious looking as Saint Denis, +</p> +<p> +An urchin stole his catch-penny. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And even the beggar's drab-fleeced poodle +</p> +<p> +Began to know him for a noodle. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"It has an uncelestial scent, +</p> +<p> +The clothing of this mendicant;" +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +He cried, "That trickling down my spine +</p> +<p> +Is anything but hyaline. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +This day is like a thousand years: +</p> +<p> +I'd give an age of sighs and tears +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +To see with his confectioned grin +</p> +<p> +One cherub sitting on his chin. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +That cripple was by far too sly— +</p> +<p> +I wish he'd tumble from the sky, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +That things might be as they were before; +</p> +<p> +I really cannot stand much more!" +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The beggar in the angel's guise, +</p> +<p> +Rose far above the smoky skies. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But being a beggar, never saw +</p> +<p> +The charm of the compelling law +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +That turned the swinging universe: +</p> +<p> +'Twas gloomy as an empty purse. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Often with heaven in his head, +</p> +<p> +He blundered on a planet dead. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And when with an immortal fuss, +</p> +<p> +He singed his wings at Sirius. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +He plucked the feather with his teeth, +</p> +<p> +The charm was potent and beneath, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +He saw the turmoil of the way +</p> +<p> +Grown wilder at the close of day, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +With the sad poodle, can in hand, +</p> +<p> +The angel still at the old stand. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"My friend," said the angel, hemming and humming, +</p> +<p> +"Truly I thought you were never coming." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"That's an unhandsome thing to say, +</p> +<p> +Seeing I've only been gone a day. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But there's nothing in all your brazen sky +</p> +<p> +To match the cock of that poodle's eye. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Take your dish and give me my wings, +</p> +<p> +'Tis but a fair exchange of things." +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The beggar felt his garment's rot, +</p> +<p> +The horn ridge of each callous spot; +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +He clinked his can and was content; +</p> +<p> +His poverty was permanent. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="117"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +IMPROVISATION ON AN OLD SONG +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +(The refrain is quoted by Edward Fitzgerald in one of his letters) +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +I</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Growing, growing, all the glory going; +</p> +<p> +Flashing out of fire and light, burning to a husk, +</p> +<p> +All the world's a-dying and failing in the dusk— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Growing, growing, all the glory going.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Rust is on the door-latch, ashes at the root, +</p> +<p> +Dry rot in the ridge-pole, canker in the fruit; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Growing, growing, all the glory going.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Plot, ye subtle statesmen,—a trace of melted wax; +</p> +<p> +Bind, ye haughty prelates,—a thread of ravelled flax; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Growing, growing, all the glory going.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +March, ye mighty captains,—an eddy in the dust; +</p> +<p> +Rave, ye furious lovers,—a stain of crimson rust; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Growing, growing, all the glory going.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Pictures, poems, music—their essential soul, +</p> +<p> +Idle as dry roses in a silver bowl; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Growing, growing, all the glory going.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +London is a hearsay, Paris but a myth, +</p> +<p> +Rome a wand of sweet-flag withered to the pith; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Growing, growing, all the glory going.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Palsy shakes the planets, frost has chilled the sun, +</p> +<p> +In a crushing silence the All is dead and done. +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Growing, growing, all the glory going.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +II</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Going, going, all the glory growing, +</p> +<p> +See it stir and flutter; that is singing, hark! +</p> +<p> +Singing in the caverns of the primal dark. +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Going, going, all the glory growing.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +What is in the making, what immortal plan +</p> +<p> +Draws to its unfolding? 'Tis the Soul of man. +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Going, going, all the glory growing.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +See it mount and hover, singing as it goes, +</p> +<p> +Battling with the darkness, nourished by its woes; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Going, going, all the glory growing.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The bale-fires of midnight glaring in its eyes, +</p> +<p> +Past the phantom shadows see it rush and rise; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Going, going, all the glory growing.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The supernal morning on its dewy wings, +</p> +<p> +Soaring and scorning the lust of earthy things; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Going, going, all the glory growing.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The beatific noontide on its eager breast +</p> +<p> +Springing and singing to its halcyon rest; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Going, going, all the glory growing.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +In its starry vesture not a vestige of the sod, +</p> +<p> +Winging still and singing to the heart of God. +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Going, going, all the glory growing.</i> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="121"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +O TURN ONCE MORE +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O turn once more! +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The meadows where we mused and strayed together +</p> +<p> +Abound and glow yet with the ruby sorrel; +</p> +<p> +'Twas there the bluebirds fought and played together, +</p> +<p> +Their quarrel was a flying bluebird-quarrel; +</p> +<p> +Their nest is firm still in the burnished cherry, +</p> +<p> +They will come back there some day and be merry; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +O turn once more. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O turn once more! +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The spring we lingered at is ever steeping +</p> +<p> +The long, cool grasses where the violets hide, +</p> +<p> +Where you awoke the flower-heads from their sleeping +</p> +<p> +And plucked them, proud in their inviolate pride; +</p> +<p> +You left the roots, the roots will flower again, +</p> +<p> +O turn once more and pluck the flower again; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +O turn once more. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O turn once more! +</p> +<p class="i2"> +We were the first to find the fairy places +</p> +<p> +Where the tall lady-slippers scarf'd and snooded, +</p> +<p> +Painted their lovely thoughts upon their faces, +</p> +<p> +And then, bewitched by their own beauty brooded; +</p> +<p> +This will recur in some enchanted fashion; +</p> +<p> +Time will repeat his miracles of passion; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +O turn once more. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O turn once more! +</p> +<p class="i2"> +What heart is worth the longing for, the winning, +</p> +<p> +That is not moved by currents of surprise; +</p> +<p> +Who never breaks the silken thread in spinning, +</p> +<p> +Shows a bare spindle when the daylight dies; +</p> +<p> +The constant blood will yet flow full and tender; +</p> +<p> +The thread will mended be though gossamer-slender; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +O turn once more. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="124"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +AT THE GILL-NETS +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Tug at the net, +</p> +<p> +Haul at the net, +</p> +<p> +Strip off the quivering fish; +</p> +<p> +Hid in the mist +</p> +<p> +The winds whist, +</p> +<p> +Is like my heart's wish. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +What is your wish, +</p> +<p> +Your heart's wish? +</p> +<p> +Is it for home on the hills? +</p> +<p> +Strip off the fish, +</p> +<p> +The silver fish, +</p> +<p> +Caught by their rosy gills. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +How can I know, +</p> +<p> +I love you so, +</p> +<p> +Each little thought I get +</p> +<p> +Is held so, +</p> +<p> +It dies you know, +</p> +<p> +Caught in your heart's net. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Tug at your net, +</p> +<p> +Your heart's net, +</p> +<p> +Strip off my silver fancies; +</p> +<p> +Keep them in rhyme, +</p> +<p> +For a dull time, +</p> +<p> +Fragile as frost pansies. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="126"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +A LOVE SONG +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I gave her a rose in early June, +</p> +<p> +Fed with the sun and the dew, +</p> +<p> +Each petal I said is a note in the tune, +</p> +<p> +The rose is the whole tune through and through, +</p> +<p> +The tune is the whole red-hearted rose, +</p> +<p> +Flush and form, honey and hue, +</p> +<p> +Lull with the cadence and throb to the close, +</p> +<p> +I love you, I love you, I love you. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She gave me a rose in early June, +</p> +<p> +Fed with the sun and the dew, +</p> +<p> +Each petal she said is a mount in the moon, +</p> +<p> +The rose is the whole moon through and through, +</p> +<p> +The moon is the whole pale-hearted rose, +</p> +<p> +Round and radiance, burnish and blue, +</p> +<p> +Break in the flood-tide that murmurs and flows, +</p> +<p> +I love you, I love you, I love you. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +This is our love in early June, +</p> +<p> +Fed with the sun and the dew, +</p> +<p> +Moonlight and roses hid in a tune, +</p> +<p> +The roses are music through and through, +</p> +<p> +The moonlight falls in the breath of the rose, +</p> +<p> +Light and cadence, honey and hue, +</p> +<p> +Mingle, and murmur, and flow to the close, +</p> +<p> +I love you, I love you, I love you. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THREE SONGS +</p> +</div> +<a name="128"> + +</a> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +I</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Where love is life +</p> +<p> +The roses blow, +</p> +<p> +Though winds be rude +</p> +<p> +And cold the snow, +</p> +<p> +The roses climb +</p> +<p> +Serenely slow, +</p> +<p> +They nod in rhyme +</p> +<p> +We know—we know +</p> +<p> +Where love is life +</p> +<p> +The roses blow. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Where life is love +</p> +<p> +The roses blow, +</p> +<p> +Though care be quick +</p> +<p> +And sorrows grow, +</p> +<p> +Their roots are twined +</p> +<p> +With rose-roots so +</p> +<p> +That rosebuds find +</p> +<p> +A way to show +</p> +<p> +Where life is love +</p> +<p> +The roses blow. +</p> +</div> +<a name="129_1"> + +</a> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +II</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Nothing came here but sunlight, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Nothing fell here but rain, +</p> +<p> +Nothing blew but the mellow wind, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Here are the flowers again! +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +No one came here but you, dear, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +You with your magic train +</p> +<p> +Of brightness and laughter and lightness, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Here is my joy again! +</p> +</div> +<a name="129_2"> + +</a> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +III</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I have songs of dancing pleasure, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +I have songs of happy heart, +</p> +<p> +Songs are mine that pulse in measure +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To the throbbing of the mart. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Songs are mine of magic seeming, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In a land of love forlorn, +</p> +<p> +Where the joys are had for dreaming, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +At a summons from the horn. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But my sad songs come unbidden, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Rising with a wilder zest, +</p> +<p> +From the bitter pool that's hidden, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Deep—deep—deep within my breast. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="131"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE SAILOR'S SWEETHEART +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O if love were had for asking, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In the markets of the town, +</p> +<p> +Hardly a lass would think to wear +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A fine silken gown: +</p> +<p> +But love is had by grieving +</p> +<p> +By choosing and by leaving, +</p> +<p> +And there's no one now to ask me +</p> +<p> +If heavy lies my heart. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O if love were had for a deep wish +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In the deadness of the night, +</p> +<p> +There'd be a truce to longing +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Between the dusk and the light: +</p> +<p> +But love is had for sighing, +</p> +<p> +For living and for dying, +</p> +<p> +And there's no one now to ask me +</p> +<p> +If heavy lies my heart. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O if love were had for taking +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Like honey from the hive, +</p> +<p> +The bees that made the tender stuff +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Could hardly keep alive: +</p> +<p> +But love it is a wounded thing, +</p> +<p> +A tremor and a smart, +</p> +<p> +And there's no one left to kiss me now +</p> +<p> +Over my heavy heart. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="133"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +FEUILLES D'AUTOMNE +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Gather the leaves from the forest +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And blow them over the world, +</p> +<p> +The wind of winter follows +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The wind of autumn furled. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Only the beech tree cherishes +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A leaf or two for ruth, +</p> +<p> +Their stems too tough for the tempest, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Like thoughts of love and of youth. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +You may sit by the fire and ponder +</p> +<p class="i2"> +While darkness veils the pane, +</p> +<p> +And fear that your memories are rushing away +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In the wind and the rain. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But you'll find them in the quiet +</p> +<p class="i2"> +When the clouds race with the moon, +</p> +<p> +Making the tender silver sound +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of a beech in the month of June. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +For you cannot rob the memory +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of the leaves it loves the best; +</p> +<p> +The wind of time may harry them, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +It rushes away with the rest. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +TO THE HEROIC SOUL +</p> +</div> +<a name="135"> + +</a> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +I</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Nurture thyself, O Soul, from the clear spring +</p> +<p> +That wells beneath the secret inner shrine; +</p> +<p> +Commune with its deep murmur,—'tis divine; +</p> +<p> +Be faithful to the ebb and flow that bring +</p> +<p> +The outer tide of Spirit to trouble and swing +</p> +<p> +The inlet of thy being. Learn to know +</p> +<p> +These powers, and life with all its venom and show +</p> +<p> +Shall have no force to dazzle thee or sting: +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And when Grief comes thou shalt have suffered more +</p> +<p> +Than all the deepest woes of all the world; +</p> +<p> +Joy, dancing in, shall find thee nourished with mirth; +</p> +<p> +Wisdom shall find her Master at thy door; +</p> +<p> +And Love shall find thee crowned with love empearled; +</p> +<p> +And death shall touch thee not but a new birth. +</p> +</div> +<a name="136"> + +</a> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +II</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Be strong, O warring soul! For very sooth +</p> +<p> +Kings are but wraiths, republics fade like rain, +</p> +<p> +Peoples are reaped and garnered as the grain, +</p> +<p> +And that alone prevails which is the truth: +</p> +<p> +Be strong when all the days of life bear ruth +</p> +<p> +And fury, and are hot with toil and strain: +</p> +<p> +Hold thy large faith and quell thy mighty pain: +</p> +<p> +Dream the great dream that buoys thine age with youth. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Thou art an eagle mewed in a sea-stopped cave: +</p> +<p> +He, poised in darkness with victorious wings, +</p> +<p> +Keeps night between the granite and the sea, +</p> +<p> +Until the tide has drawn the warder-wave: +</p> +<p> +Then from the portal where the ripple rings, +</p> +<p> +He bursts into the boundless morning,—free! +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="138"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +RETROSPECT +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +This is the mockery of the moving years; +</p> +<p> +Youth's colour dies, the fervid morning glow +</p> +<p> +Is gone from off the foreland; slow, slow, +</p> +<p> +Even slower than the fount of human tears +</p> +<p> +To empty, the consuming shadow nears +</p> +<p> +That Time is casting on the worldly show +</p> +<p> +Of pomp and glory. But falter not;—below +</p> +<p> +That thought is based a deeper thought that cheers. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Glean thou thy past; that will alone inure +</p> +<p> +To catch thy heart up from a dark distress; +</p> +<p> +It were enough to find one deed mature, +</p> +<p> +Deep-rooted, mighty 'mid the toil and press; +</p> +<p> +To save one memory of the sweet and pure, +</p> +<p> +From out life's failure and its bitterness. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +FROST MAGIC +</p> +</div> +<a name="139"> + +</a> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +I</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Now, in the moonrise, from a wintry sky, +</p> +<p> +The frost has come to charm with elfin might +</p> +<p> +This quiet room; to draw with symbols bright +</p> +<p> +Faces and forms in fairest charactery +</p> +<p> +Upon the casement; all the thoughts that lie +</p> +<p> +Deep hidden in my heart's core he would tell, +</p> +<p> +How the red shoots of fancy strike and swell, +</p> +<p> +How they are watered, what soil nourished by. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +With eerie power he piles his atomies, +</p> +<p> +Incrusted gems, star-glances overborne +</p> +<p> +With lids of sleep pulled from the moth's bright eyes, +</p> +<p> +And forests of frail ferns, blanched and forlorn, +</p> +<p> +Where Oberon of unimagined size +</p> +<p> +Might in the silver silence wind his horn. +</p> +</div> +<a name="140"> + +</a> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<strong> +II</strong> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +With these alone he draws in magic lines, +</p> +<p> +Faces that people dreams, and chiefly one +</p> +<p> +Happy and brilliant as the northern sun, +</p> +<p> +And by its darling side there gleams and shines +</p> +<p> +One of God's children with the laughing signs +</p> +<p> +Of dimples, and glad accents, and sweet cries, +</p> +<p> +That angels are and heaven's memories: +</p> +<p> +The wizard thus my soul's estate divines; +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +All it holds dear he sets alone apart, +</p> +<p> +Etches the past in likeness of dim groves +</p> +<p> +Silvered in quiet rime and with rare art, +</p> +<p> +In crystal spoils and fairy treasure-troves, +</p> +<p> +He draws the picture of the happy heart, +</p> +<p> +By those who love it most, whom most it loves. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="142"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +IN SNOW-TIME +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I have seen things that charmed the heart to rest: +</p> +<p> +Faint moonlight on the towers of ancient towns, +</p> +<p> +Flattering the soul to dream of old renowns; +</p> +<p> +The first clear silver on the mountain crest +</p> +<p> +Where the lone eagle by his chilly nest +</p> +<p> +Called the lone soul to brood serenely free; +</p> +<p> +Still pools of sunlight shimmering in the sea, +</p> +<p> +Calm after storm, wherein the storm seemed blest. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But here a peace deeper than peace is furled, +</p> +<p> +Enshrined and chaliced from the changeful hour; +</p> +<p> +The snow is still, yet lives in its own light. +</p> +<p> +Here is the peace which brooded day and night, +</p> +<p> +Before the heart of man with its wild power +</p> +<p> +Had ever spurned or trampled the great world. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="143"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +TO A CANADIAN LAD KILLED IN THE WAR +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O noble youth that held our honour in keeping, +</p> +<p> +And bore it sacred through the battle flame, +</p> +<p> +How shall we give full measure of acclaim +</p> +<p> +To thy sharp labour, thy immortal reaping? +</p> +<p> +For though we sowed with doubtful hands, half sleeping, +</p> +<p> +Thou in thy vivid pride hast reaped a nation, +</p> +<p> +And brought it in with shouts and exultation, +</p> +<p> +With drums and trumpets, with flags flashing and leaping. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Let us bring pungent wreaths of balsam, and tender +</p> +<p> +Tendrils of wild-flowers, lovelier for thy daring, +</p> +<p> +And deck a sylvan shrine, where the maple parts +</p> +<p> +The moonlight, with lilac bloom, and the splendour +</p> +<p> +Of suns unwearied; all unwithered, wearing +</p> +<p> +Thy valor stainless in our heart of hearts. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<p class="section"> +THE CLOSED DOOR +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +The dew falls and the stars fall,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +The sun falls in the west,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +But never more</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +Through the closed door,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +Shall the one that I loved best</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +Return to me:</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +A salt tear is the sea,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +All earth's air is a sigh,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +But they never can mourn for me</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +With my heart's cry,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +For the one that I loved best</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +Who caressed me with her eyes,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +And every morning came to me,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +With the beauty of sunrise,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +Who was health and wealth and all,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +Who never shall answer my call,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +While the sun falls in the west,</i> +</p> +<p class="i16"> +<i> +The dew falls and the stars fall.</i> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="147"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +BY A CHILD'S BED +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +She breathèd deep, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And stepped from out life's stream +</p> +<p> +Upon the shore of sleep; +</p> +<p> +And parted from the earthly noise, +</p> +<p> +Leaving her world of toys, +</p> +<p> +To dwell a little in a dell of dream. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Then brooding on the love I hold so free, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +My fond possessions come to be +</p> +<p> +Clouded with grief; +</p> +<p> +These fairy kisses, +</p> +<p> +This archness innocent, +</p> +<p> +Sting me with sorrow and disturbed content: +</p> +<p> +I think of what my portion might have been; +</p> +<p> +A dearth of blisses, +</p> +<p> +A famine of delights, +</p> +<p> +If I had never had what now I value most; +</p> +<p> +Till all I have seems something I have lost; +</p> +<p> +A desert underneath the garden shows, +</p> +<p> +And in a mound of cinders roots the rose. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here then I linger by the little bed, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Till all my spirit's sphere, +</p> +<p> +Grows one half brightness and the other dead, +</p> +<p> +One half all joy, the other vague alarms; +</p> +<p> +And, holding each the other half in fee, +</p> +<p> +Floats like the growing moon +</p> +<p> +That bears implicitly +</p> +<p> +Her lessening pearl of shadow +</p> +<p> +Clasped in the crescent silver of her arms. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="149"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +ELIZABETH SPEAKS +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +(Aetat Six) +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Now every night we light the grate +</p> +<p> +And I sit up till +<i> +really +</i> +late; +</p> +<p> +My Father sits upon the right, +</p> +<p> +My Mother on the left, and I +</p> +<p> +Between them on an ancient chair, +</p> +<p> +That once belonged to my Great-Gran, +</p> +<p> +Before my Father was a man. +</p> +<p> +We sit without another light; +</p> +<p> +I really, truly never tire +</p> +<p> +Watching that space, as black as night, +</p> +<p> +That hangs behind the fire; +</p> +<p> +For there sometimes, you know, +</p> +<p> +The dearest, queerest little sparks, +</p> +<p> +Without a sound creep to and fro; +</p> +<p> +Sometimes they form in rings +</p> +<p> +Or lines that look like many things, +</p> +<p> +Like skipping ropes, or hoops, or swings: +</p> +<p> +Before you know what you're about, +</p> +<p> +They all go out! +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +My Father says that they are gnomes, +</p> +<p> +Beyond the grate they have their homes, +</p> +<p> +In a tall, black, and windy town, +</p> +<p> +Behind a door we cannot see. +</p> +<p> +Often when it's time for bed +</p> +<p> +The children run away instead, +</p> +<p> +Out through the door to see our fire, +</p> +<p> +Then their angry parents come +</p> +<p> +With every candle in the town, +</p> +<p> +The beadle with his lantern too, +</p> +<p> +And search and rummage up and down, +</p> +<p> +To catch the children as they play, +</p> +<p> +Between the rows of new-mown hay, +</p> +<p> +And bring them home; +</p> +<p> +(They must be, O, so very small, +</p> +<p> +How do they capture them at all? +</p> +<p> +But then they must be very +<i> +dear</i>); +</p> +<p> +When they can find no more +</p> +<p> +They blow a horn we cannot hear, +</p> +<p> +And march with the beadle at their head, +</p> +<p> +Right through the little open door, +</p> +<p> +Then close it tight and go to bed. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +My Mother says that may be so; +</p> +<p> +(They both agree they're +<i> +gnomes</i>, you know). +</p> +<p> +She says, she thinks that every night, +</p> +<p> +The gnomes have had a fearful fight; +</p> +<p> +Their valiant General has been slain, +</p> +<p> +And all the soldiers leave the camp +</p> +<p> +To dig his grave upon the plain; +</p> +<p> +They drag the General on a gun; +</p> +<p> +Every bandsman has a lamp +</p> +<p> +And there's a torch for every one, +</p> +<p> +They dig his grave with bayonets +</p> +<p> +And wrap him grandly in his flag, +</p> +<p> +Then they gather in a ring, +</p> +<p> +The band plays very soft and low, +</p> +<p> +And all the soldiers sing. +</p> +<p> +(Of course we cannot hear, you know,) +</p> +<p> +Then some one calls "The enemy comes!" +</p> +<p> +They muffle up their pipes and drums; +</p> +<p> +Every soldier in a fright +</p> +<p> +Puts out his light. +</p> +<p> +Then hand in hand, and very still, +</p> +<p> +They clamber up the dark, dark hill +</p> +<p> +And hold their breath tight—tight. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +(I'd like to know which tale is right.) +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +O! there is something I forgot! +</p> +<p> +Sometimes one little spark burns on +</p> +<p> +Long after the rest have gone. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +My Father says that lamp is left +</p> +<p> +By a little crooked, crotchety man, +</p> +<p> +Who cannot find his wayward son; +</p> +<p> +When the horn begins to blow, +</p> +<p> +He has to drop his light and run. +</p> +<p> +Of course he limps so slow +</p> +<p> +He squeezes through the very last, +</p> +<p> +When he is gone the naughty scamp +</p> +<p> +Jumps up and puff! out goes the lamp. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +My Mother says that is the light, +</p> +<p> +Borne by the very bravest knight; +</p> +<p> +He is so very, very brave, +</p> +<p> +He would not leave his General's grave, +</p> +<p> +And when the Enemy General tries +</p> +<p> +To make him tell where his General lies, +</p> +<p> +He answers boldly, "I—will—not!" +</p> +<p> +Then they shoot him on the spot, +</p> +<p> +And give a horrid, dreadful shout, +</p> +<p> +And then of course his light goes out. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I sit and think when they are through, +</p> +<p> +Which tale I like best of the two. +</p> +<p> +Sometimes I like the +<i> +Father +</i> +one; +</p> +<p> +It is such fun! +</p> +<p> +But then I love the +<i> +Mother +</i> +one, +</p> +<p> +That dear brave soldier and the rest:— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +<i> +Now which one do you like the best?</i> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="154"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +A LEGEND OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +At Bethlehem upon the hill, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The day was done, the night was nigh, +</p> +<p> +The dusk was deep and had its will, +</p> +<p> +The stars were very small and still, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Like unblown tapers, faint and high. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The noises had begun to fall, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And quiet stole upon the place, +</p> +<p> +The howl of dogs along the wall, +</p> +<p> +Voices that from the houstops call +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And answer, and the grace +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Of some low breath of even-song +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Grew faint apace: between the rocks +</p> +<p> +In misty pastures, and along +</p> +<p> +The dim hillside with crook and thong +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The lonely shepherds watched their flocks. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The Inn-master within the Inn +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Called loudly out after this sort, +</p> +<p> +"Draw no more water, cease the din, +</p> +<p> +Pile the loose fodder, and begin +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To turn the mules out of the court. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The time has come to shut the gate, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Make way," he cried, and then began +</p> +<p> +To sweep and set the litter straight, +</p> +<p> +And pile the saddle-bags and freight +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Of some belated caravan. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The drivers whirled their beasts about, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And beat them on with shoutings great; +</p> +<p> +The nosebags slipped, the feed flew out, +</p> +<p> +The water-buckets reeled, the rout +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Went jostling onward to the gate. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Came one unto the master then, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Hasting to find him through the gloom, +</p> +<p> +"Give us a place to rest;" and when +</p> +<p> +He spake, the master cried again, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +"There is no room—there is no room." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"But I have come from Nazareth, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Full three days' toil to Bethlehem"— +</p> +<p> +"What matters that," the master saith, +</p> +<p> +"For here is hardly room for breath; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The guests curse me for crowding them." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"Hold, Sir! leave me not so, I pray"— +</p> +<p class="i2"> +He plucked him sudden by the sleeve, +</p> +<p> +"My wife is with me and doth say, +</p> +<p> +Her hour hath come, I beg you, stay, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And make some plan for her relief." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"Two hours ago you might have had +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The chamber wherein stands the loom; +</p> +<p> +But then to drive me wholly mad, +</p> +<p> +Came this great merchant from Baghdad, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And thrust himself into the room. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"There is no other shelf to call +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A bed—But just beyond the gate, +</p> +<p> +You may find shelter in a stall, +</p> +<p> +If there be shelter left at all, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +You may be even now too late." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Beyond the gate within the night, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +A figure rested on the ground, +</p> +<p> +About her all the rout took flight, +</p> +<p> +The dizzy noise, the flashing light, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The mules were tramping all around. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Leaning in mute expectancy, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Beneath a stunted sycamore, +</p> +<p> +She added darkness utterly, +</p> +<p> +To the dim light, the shrouded tree, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +By her hands held her face before. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And yet to mock her eye's desire, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The cavern into which she stared, +</p> +<p> +Was lit with disks and lines of fire; +</p> +<p> +When triple darkness did conspire, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The secret founts of light were bared. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And all the wheeling fire was rife +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With haunting fears, her broken breath +</p> +<p> +Grew short with this prophetic strife; +</p> +<p> +What was for one the dawn of life, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Would be for one the dawn of death. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Meantime the stranger with a lamp, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Which lit the darkness, small and wan, +</p> +<p> +Searched where the mules did tramp and stamp, +</p> +<p> +Amid the litter and the damp, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +For some small place to rest upon. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And there against the furthest wall, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Where the black shade was dense and deep, +</p> +<p> +He found a mean and meager stall, +</p> +<p> +But there when the weak light did fall, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +He found a little lad asleep. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +He lifted up his childish head, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And smiled serenely at the light, +</p> +<p> +"And have you found him, then," he said, +</p> +<p> +"My brother who I thought was dead, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +I lost him in the crowd last night. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"His name is Ezra, and he is +</p> +<p class="i2"> +So tall and strong that when I try, +</p> +<p> +Standing on tiptoe for a kiss +</p> +<p> +I could not reach, except for this, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +He lifts me up so easily. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"I had two little doves to take +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Up to the booths"—he held his breath, +</p> +<p> +"Peace, child! and for your mother's sake, +</p> +<p> +Yield me this place—nay, nay! awake! +</p> +<p class="i2"> +My weary wife is sick to death." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"I will," the little lad replied +</p> +<p class="i2"> +"I promised never to forget +</p> +<p> +My mother, years ago she died, +</p> +<p> +I will lie out on the hillside, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And I may find dear Ezra yet." +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And now she drooped her weary head, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Within that comfortless manger, +</p> +<p> +It might have been a palace bed, +</p> +<p> +With canopy of gold instead, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +So little did she know or care. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Gentle Jesus, slumber mild,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Succored by a little child,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +You of children are the king,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Sovereign to all ministering,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Grace you bring them from above,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +They give promise, lisping love,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And out upon the darkened hill, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With all the quiet-pastured sheep, +</p> +<p> +Charmed by the falling of a rill, +</p> +<p> +Where in the pool it cadenced still, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The little lad was fallen asleep. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +All his young dreams were robed with power. +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And glad were all his vision folk; +</p> +<p> +He wandered on from hour to hour, +</p> +<p> +With Ezra, happy as a flower +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That blooms safe-shadowed by the oak. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +But once before his dreams were told, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +He thought he saw within the deep +</p> +<p> +Vault of the sky a rose unfold, +</p> +<p> +Made all of fire and lovely gold, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Whose petals seemed to glow and leap, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +As if each dewy, crystal cell +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Were a great angel live with light, +</p> +<p> +And trembling to the coronal, +</p> +<p> +Merging in sheen of pearl and shell, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With his great comrade, equal, bright, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Until the petals flashed and sprang, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And folded to the central heart: +</p> +<p> +Music there was that showered and rang, +</p> +<p> +As if each angel harped and sang, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Controlled by some celestial art. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The child saw splendor without name, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And turned and smiled, and all the noise +</p> +<p> +Of strings and singing sank; it came +</p> +<p> +Faint and dream-altered, yet the same, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Soft-tempered to his mother's voice. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Slumber, slumber, gentle child,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Sweet as henna, dear and mild,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +You the first of all the race,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Gave your master early grace,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Gave a shelter for his head,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Took the chilly earth instead,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Now take comfort infant earth,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Jesus Christ is come to birth,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +For his principality,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Children cluster at his knee,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Hail the heaven-happy age,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lullaby, lullaby;</i> +</p> +<p class="i4"> +<i> +Love begins his pilgrimage,</i> +</p> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Lull, lullaby.</i> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="163"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +WILLOW-PIPES +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +So in the shadow by the nimble flood +</p> +<p> +He made her whistles of the willow wood, +</p> +<p> +Flutes of one note with mellow slender tone; +</p> +<p> +(A robin piping in the dusk alone). +</p> +<p> +Lively the pleasure was the wand to bruise, +</p> +<p> +And notch the light rod for its lyric use, +</p> +<p> +Until the stem gave up its tender sheath, +</p> +<p> +And showed the white and glistening wood beneath. +</p> +<p> +And when the ground was covered with light chips, +</p> +<p> +Grey leaves and green, and twigs and tender slips, +</p> +<p> +They placed the well-made whistles in a row +</p> +<p> +And left them for the careless wind to blow. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="164"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +ANGEL +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Come to me when grief is over, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +When the tired eyes, +</p> +<p> +Seek thy cloudy wings to cover +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Close their burning skies. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Come to me when tears have dwindled +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Into drops of dew, +</p> +<p> +When the sighs like sobs re-kindled +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Are but deep and few. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Hold me like a crooning mother, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Heal me of the smart; +</p> +<p> +All mine anguish let me smother +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In thy brooding heart. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="165"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +CHRISTMAS FOLK-SONG +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Those who die on Christmas Day +</p> +<p> +(I heard the triumphant Seraph say) +</p> +<p> +Will be remembered, for they died +</p> +<p> +Upon the Holy Christmastide; +</p> +<p> +When they attain to Paradise, +</p> +<p> +The Angels with the tranquil Eyes +</p> +<p> +Will ask if Jesus rules on Earth +</p> +<p> +The Anniversary of His Birth; +</p> +<p> +This Question do they ask alway +</p> +<p> +Of those who die on Christmas Day. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Those who are born on Christmas Day +</p> +<p> +(I heard the triumphant Seraph say) +</p> +<p> +Will bring again the Peace on Earth +</p> +<p> +That came with gentle Christ His Birth; +</p> +<p> +They may be lowly Folk and poor +</p> +<p> +Living about the Manger Door, +</p> +<p> +They may be Kings of Mighty Line, +</p> +<p> +Their Lives alike will be benign; +</p> +<p> +To them belongeth Peace alway, +</p> +<p> +Those who are born on Christmas Day. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="166"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +FROM BEYOND +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here there is balm for every tender heart +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Wounded by life; +</p> +<p> +Rest for each one who bore a valiant part +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Crushed in the strife. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I suffered there and held a losing fight +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Even to the grave; +</p> +<p> +And now I know that it was very right +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To suffer and be brave. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="167"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +THE LEAF +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +This silver-edged geranium leaf +</p> +<p> +Is one sign of a bitter grief +</p> +<p> +Whose symbols are a myriad more; +</p> +<p> +They cluster round a carven stone +</p> +<p> +Where she who sleeps is never alone +</p> +<p> +For two hearts at the core, +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Bound with her heart make one of three, +</p> +<p> +A trinity in unity, +</p> +<p> +One sentient heart that grieves; +</p> +<p> +And myriad dark-leaved memories keep +</p> +<p> +Vigil above the triune sleep,— +</p> +<p> +Edged all with silver are the leaves. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="168"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +A MYSTERY PLAY +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +CHARACTERS +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The Father. The Child. Death. Angels. +</p> +<p class="i8"> +Two Travellers. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<i> +The even settles still and deep,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +In the cold sky the last gold burns,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Across the colour snow flakes creep.</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Each one from grey to glory turns</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Then flutters into nothingness;</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +The frost down falls with mighty stress</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Through the swift cloud that parts on high;</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +The great stars shrivel into less</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +In the hard depth of the iron sky.</i> +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +What is that light, dear father, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That light in the dark, dark sky? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Father:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Those are the lights of the city +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And the villages thereby. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +There must be fire in the city +</p> +<p class="i2"> +To throw that yellow glare; +</p> +<p> +And fire in the little villages +</p> +<p class="i2"> +On all the hearthstones there. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Father, musing:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Yea, flames are on the hearthstones; +</p> +<p class="i2"> +The ovens are full of bread, +</p> +<p> +But here the coals are dying +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And the flames are dead. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +What is the cold, dear father? +</p> +<p class="i2"> +It stings like an angry bee. +</p> +<p> +Wherever it stings my hand turns white, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +See! +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Father:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The cold is a beast, my dear one, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With his paws he tears at the thatch, +</p> +<p> +His breath is a curse and a warning, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +You can see it creep on the latch. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +If 'tis a wolf, dear father, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +That lies with his paw on the floor, +</p> +<p> +Let us heat the spade in the embers +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And drive him away from the door. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Angels:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +God is the power of growth, +</p> +<p> +In the snail and the tree, +</p> +<p> +God is the power of growth +</p> +<p> +In the heart of the man. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Did you not hear the singing, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Voices overhead? +</p> +<p> +Mother's voice and Ruth's voice, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Voices of the dead. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Father, musing:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Our Ruth died in the springtime, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +With the spade I turned the sod, +</p> +<p> +We buried her by the brier rose, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Her life is hid with God. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +All summer long in the garden +</p> +<p class="i2"> +No roses came to the tree. +</p> +<p> +Father, was it for sorrow, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +Sorrow for thee and me? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Father:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Roses grew in the garden, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +I saw them at morning and even, +</p> +<p> +Shadows of earthly roses +</p> +<p class="i2"> +They bloomed for fingers in heaven. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<i> +The air is very clear and still,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +The moonlight falls from half the sphere;</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +The shadow from the silver hill</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Fills half the vale, and half is clear</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +As the moon's self with cloudless snow;</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +By the dead stream the alders throw</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Their shadows, shot with tingling spars;</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +On the sheer height the elm trees glow:</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Their tops are tangled with the stars.</i> +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Father, the coals are dying, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +See! I have heated the spade, +</p> +<p> +Let me throw the door wide open, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +I will not be afraid. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Father:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Let me kiss you once on the forehead, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And once on your darling eyes; +</p> +<p> +We may see them both at the dawning, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +In the dales of Paradise. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Child:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +And if I only see them, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +I will tell them how you smiled; +</p> +<p> +For the wolf, you know, is angry, +</p> +<p class="i2"> +And I am a little child. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Death:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Undaunted spirits, +</p> +<p> +I give thee peace, +</p> +<p> +For a world of dread— +</p> +<p> +Calm. +</p> +<p> +For desperate toil— +</p> +<p> +Rest. +</p> +<p> +Thou who didst say, +</p> +<p> +When the waters of poverty +</p> +<p> +Waxed deep, deep, +</p> +<p> +What we bear is best; +</p> +<p> +Just ones, +</p> +<p> +I give thee sleep. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +First Traveller:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Keep up your spirits, I know +</p> +<p> +There's a cabin under the hill, +</p> +<p> +The fellow will make a roaring fire; +</p> +<p> +We'll heat our hands and drink our fill +</p> +<p> +And go warm to our heart's desire! +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +Second Traveller:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The door is open,—Heigho! +</p> +<p> +This pair will claim neither crown nor groat, +</p> +<p> +The man has gripped his garden spade +</p> +<p> +As if he would dig his grave in the snow; +</p> +<p> +The boy has the face of a saint, I trow; +</p> +<p> +His brow says, "I was not afraid!" +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +First Traveller:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Ah well, these things must be, you know! +</p> +<p> +Gather your sables around your throat; +</p> +<p> +Give us that story about the monk, +</p> +<p> +His niece, and the wandering conjurer, +</p> +<p> +Just to keep our blood astir. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"> +<i> +The Angels:</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The heart of God, +</p> +<p> +The worlds and man, +</p> +<p> +Are fashioned and moulded, +</p> +<p> +In a subtle plan; +</p> +<p> +Passion outsurges, +</p> +<p> +Sweeps far but converges: +</p> +<p> +Nothing is lost, +</p> +<p> +Sod or stone, +</p> +<p> +But comes to its own; +</p> +<p> +Bear well thy joy, +</p> +<p> +'Tis mixed with alloy, +</p> +<p> +Bear well thy grief, +</p> +<p> +'Tis a rich full sheaf: +</p> +<p> +Gather the souls that have passed in the night, +</p> +<p> +Theirs is the peace and the light. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +<i> +The moon is gone, the dawning brings</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +A deeper dark with silver blent,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Above the wells where, myriad, springs</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Light from the crimson orient;</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +The elms are born, the shadows creep,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Tremble and melt away—one sweep</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +The great soft color floods and flows,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Where under snow the roses sleep;</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +The morn has turned the snow to rose.</i> +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> + +</p> +<p> + +</p> +<a name="179"> + +</a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="title"> +LINES IN MEMORY OF EDMUND MORRIS +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Dear Morris—here is your letter— +</p> +<p> +Can my answer reach you now? +</p> +<p> +Fate has left me your debtor, +</p> +<p> +You will remember how; +</p> +<p> +For I went away to Nantucket, +</p> +<p> +And you to the Isle of Orleans, +</p> +<p> +And when I was dawdling and dreaming +</p> +<p> +Over the ways and means +</p> +<p> +Of answering, the power was denied me, +</p> +<p> +Fate frowned and took her stand; +</p> +<p> +I have your unanswered letter +</p> +<p> +Here in my hand. +</p> +<p> +This—in your famous scribble, +</p> +<p> +It was ever a cryptic fist, +</p> +<p> +Cuneiform or Chaldaic +</p> +<p> +Meanings held in a mist. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Dear Morris, (now I'm inditing +</p> +<p> +And poring over your script) +</p> +<p> +I gather from the writing, +</p> +<p> +The coin that you had flipt, +</p> +<p> +Turned tails; and so you compel me +</p> +<p> +To meet you at Touchwood Hills: +</p> +<p> +Or, mayhap, you are trying to tell me +</p> +<p> +The sum of a painter's ills: +</p> +<p> +Is that Phimister Proctor +</p> +<p> +Or something about a doctor? +</p> +<p> +Well, nobody knows, but Eddie, +</p> +<p> +Whatever it is I'm ready. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +For our friendship was always fortunate +</p> +<p> +In its greetings and adieux, +</p> +<p> +Nothing flat or importunate, +</p> +<p> +Nothing of the misuse +</p> +<p> +That comes of the constant grinding +</p> +<p> +Of one mind on another. +</p> +<p> +So memory has nothing to smother, +</p> +<p> +But only a few things captured +</p> +<p> +On the wing, as it were, and enraptured. +</p> +<p> +Yes, Morris, I am inditing— +</p> +<p> +Answering at last it seems, +</p> +<p> +How can you read the writing +</p> +<p> +In the vacancy of dreams? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I would have you look over my shoulder +</p> +<p> +Ere the long, dark year is colder, +</p> +<p> +And mark that as memory grows older, +</p> +<p> +The brighter it pulses and gleams. +</p> +<p> +And if I should try to render +</p> +<p> +The tissues of fugitive splendour +</p> +<p> +That fled down the wind of living, +</p> +<p> +Will they read it some day in the future, +</p> +<p> +And be conscious of an awareness +</p> +<p> +In our old lives, and the bareness +</p> +<p> +Of theirs, with the newest passions +</p> +<p> +In the last fad of the fashions? +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +How often have we risen without daylight +</p> +<p> +When the day star was hidden in mist, +</p> +<p> +When the dragon-fly was heavy with dew and sleep, +</p> +<p> +And viewed the miracle pre-eminent, matchless, +</p> +<p> +The prelusive light that quickens the morning. +</p> +<p> +O crystal dawn, how shall we distill your virginal freshness +</p> +<p> +When you steal upon a land that man has not sullied with his intrusion, +</p> +<p> +When the aboriginal shy dwellers in the broad solitudes +</p> +<p> +Are asleep in their innumerable dens and night haunts +</p> +<p> +Amid the dry ferns, in the tender nests +</p> +<p> +Pressed into shape by the breasts of the Mother birds? +</p> +<p> +How shall we simulate the thrill of announcement +</p> +<p> +When lake after lake lingering in the starlight +</p> +<p> +Turn their faces towards you, +</p> +<p> +And are caressed with the salutation of colour? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +How shall we transmit in tendril-like images, +</p> +<p> +The tenuous tremor in the tissues of ether, +</p> +<p> +Before the round of colour buds like the dome of a shrine, +</p> +<p> +The preconscious moment when love has fluttered in the bosom, +</p> +<p> +Before it begins to ache? +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +How often have we seen the even +</p> +<p> +Melt into the liquidity of twilight, +</p> +<p> +With passages of Titian splendour, +</p> +<p> +Pellucid preludes, exquisitely tender, +</p> +<p> +Where vanish and revive, thro' veils of the ashes of roses, +</p> +<p> +The crystal forms the breathless sky discloses. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +The new moon a slender thing, +</p> +<p> +In a snood of virgin light, +</p> +<p> +She seemed all shy on venturing +</p> +<p> +Into the vast night. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Her own land and folk were afar, +</p> +<p> +She must have gone astray, +</p> +<p> +But the gods had given a silver star, +</p> +<p> +To be with her on the way. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I can feel the wind on the prairie +</p> +<p> +And see the bunch-grass wave, +</p> +<p> +And the sunlights ripple and vary +</p> +<p> +The hill with Crowfoot's grave, +</p> +<p> +Where he "pitched off" for the last time +</p> +<p> +In sight of the Blackfoot Crossing, +</p> +<p> +Where in the sun for a pastime +</p> +<p> +You marked the site of his tepee +</p> +<p> +With a circle of stones. Old Napiw +</p> +<p> +Gave you credit for that day. +</p> +<p> +And well I recall the weirdness +</p> +<p> +Of that evening at Qu'Appelle, +</p> +<p> +In the wigwam with old Sakimay, +</p> +<p> +The keen, acrid smell, +</p> +<p> +As the kinnikinick was burning; +</p> +<p> +The planets outside were turning, +</p> +<p> +And the little splints of poplar +</p> +<p> +Flared with a thin, gold flame. +</p> +<p> +He showed us his painted robe +</p> +<p> +Where in primitive pigments +</p> +<p> +He had drawn his feats and his forays, +</p> +<p> +And told us the legend +</p> +<p> +Of the man without a name, +</p> +<p> +The hated Blackfoot, +</p> +<p> +How he lured the warriors, +</p> +<p> +The young men, to the foray +</p> +<p> +And they never returned. +</p> +<p> +Only their ghosts +</p> +<p> +Goaded by the Blackfoot +</p> +<p> +Mounted on stallions: +</p> +<p> +In the night time +</p> +<p> +He drove the stallions +</p> +<p> +Reeking into the camp; +</p> +<p> +The women gasped and whispered, +</p> +<p> +The children cowered and crept, +</p> +<p> +And the old men shuddered +</p> +<p> +Where they slept. +</p> +<p> +When Sakimay looked forth +</p> +<p> +He saw the Blackfoot, +</p> +<p> +And the ghosts of the warriors, +</p> +<p> +And the black stallions +</p> +<p> +Covered by the night wind +</p> +<p> +As by a mantle. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +I remember well a day, +</p> +<p> +When the sunlight had free play, +</p> +<p> +When you worked in happy stress, +</p> +<p> +While grave Ne-Pah-Pee-Ness +</p> +<p> +Sat for his portrait there, +</p> +<p> +In his beaded coat and his bare +</p> +<p> +Head, with his mottled fan +</p> +<p> +Of hawk's feathers, A Man! +</p> +<p> +Ah Morris, those were the times +</p> +<p> +When you sang your inconsequent rhymes +</p> +<p> +Sprung from a careless fountain: +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"<i>He met her on the mountain,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +He gave her a horn to blow,</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +And the very last words he said to her</i> +</p> +<p> +<i> +Were, 'Go 'long, Eliza, go.'</i>" +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Foolish,—but life was all, +</p> +<p> +And under the skilful fingers +</p> +<p> +Contours came at your call— +</p> +<p> +Art grows and time lingers;— +</p> +<p> +But now the song has a change +</p> +<p> +Into something wistful and strange. +</p> +<p> +And one asks with a touch of ruth +</p> +<p> +What became of the youth +</p> +<p> +And where did Eliza go? +</p> +<p> +He met her on the mountain, +</p> +<p> +He gave her a horn to blow, +</p> +<p> +The horn was a silver whorl +</p> +<p> +With a mouthpiece of pure pearl, +</p> +<p> +And the mountain was all one glow, +</p> +<p> +With gulfs of blue and summits of rosy snow. +</p> +<p> +The cadence she blew on the silver horn +</p> +<p> +Was the meaning of life in one phrase caught, +</p> +<p> +And as soon as the magic notes were born, +</p> +<p> +She repeated them once in an afterthought. +</p> +<p> +They heard in the crystal passes, +</p> +<p> +The cadence, calling, calling, +</p> +<p> +And faint in the deep crevasses, +</p> +<p> +The echoes falling, falling. +</p> +<p> +They stood apart and wondered; +</p> +<p> +Her lips with a wound were aquiver, +</p> +<p> +His heart with a sword was sundered, +</p> +<p> +For life was changed forever +</p> +<p> +When he gave her the horn to blow: +</p> +<p> +But a shadow arose from the valley, +</p> +<p> +Desolate, slow and tender, +</p> +<p> +It hid the herdsmen's chalet, +</p> +<p> +Where it hung in the emerald meadow, +</p> +<p> +(Was death driving the shadow?) +</p> +<p> +It quenched the tranquil splendour +</p> +<p> +Of the colour of life on the glow-peaks, +</p> +<p> +Till at the end of the even, +</p> +<p> +The last shell-tint on the snow-peaks +</p> +<p> +Had passed away from the heaven. +</p> +<p> +And yet, when it passed, victorious, +</p> +<p> +The stars came out on the mountains, +</p> +<p> +And the torrents gusty and glorious, +</p> +<p> +Clamoured in a thousand fountains, +</p> +<p> +And even far down in the valley, +</p> +<p> +A light re-discovered the chalet. +</p> +<p> +The scene that was veiled had a meaning, +</p> +<p> +So deep that none might know; +</p> +<p> +Was it here in the morn on the mountain, +</p> +<p> +That he gave her the horn to blow? +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Tears are the crushed essence of this world, +</p> +<p> +The wine of life, and he who treads the press +</p> +<p> +Is lofty with imperious disregard +</p> +<p> +Of the burst grapes, the red tears and the murk. +</p> +<p> +But nay! that is a thought of the old poets, +</p> +<p> +Who sullied life with the passional bitterness +</p> +<p> +Of their world-weary hearts. We of the sunrise, +</p> +<p> +Joined in the breast of God, feel deep the power +</p> +<p> +That urges all things onward, not to an end, +</p> +<p> +But in an endless flow, mounting and mounting, +</p> +<p> +Claiming not overmuch for human life, +</p> +<p> +Sharing with our brothers of nerve and leaf +</p> +<p> +The urgence of the one creative breath,— +</p> +<p> +All in the dim twilight—say of morning, +</p> +<p> +Where the florescence of the light and dew +</p> +<p> +Haloes and hallows with a crown adorning +</p> +<p> +The brows of life with love; herein the clue, +</p> +<p> +The love of life—yea, and the peerless love +</p> +<p> +Of things not seen, that leads the least of things +</p> +<p> +To cherish the green sprout, the hardening seed; +</p> +<p> +Here leans all nature with vast Mother-love, +</p> +<p> +Above the cradled future with a smile. +</p> +<p> +Why are there tears for failure, or sighs for weakness, +</p> +<p> +While life's rhythm beats on? Where is the rule +</p> +<p> +To measure the distance we have circled and clomb? +</p> +<p> +Catch up the sands of the sea and count and count +</p> +<p> +The failures hidden in our sum of conquest. +</p> +<p> +Persistence is the master of this life; +</p> +<p> +The master of these little lives of ours; +</p> +<p> +To the end—effort—even beyond the end. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +Here, Morris, on the plains that we have loved, +</p> +<p> +Think of the death of Akoose, fleet of foot, +</p> +<p> +Who, in his prime, a herd of antelope +</p> +<p> +From sunrise, without rest, a hundred miles +</p> +<p> +Drove through rank prairie, loping like a wolf, +</p> +<p> +Tired them and slew them, ere the sun went down. +</p> +<p> +Akoose, in his old age, blind from the smoke +</p> +<p> +Of tepees and the sharp snow light, alone +</p> +<p> +With his great grandchildren, withered and spent, +</p> +<p> +Crept in the warm sun along a rope +</p> +<p> +Stretched for his guidance. Once when sharp autumn +</p> +<p> +Made membranes of thin ice upon the sloughs, +</p> +<p> +He caught a pony on a quick return +</p> +<p> +Of prowess and, all his instincts cleared and quickened, +</p> +<p> +He mounted, sensed the north and bore away +</p> +<p> +To the Last Mountain Lake where in his youth +</p> +<p> +He shot the sand-hill-cranes with his flint arrows. +</p> +<p> +And for these hours in all the varied pomp +</p> +<p> +Of pagan fancy and free dreams of foray +</p> +<p> +And crude adventure, he ranged on entranced, +</p> +<p> +Until the sun blazed level with the prairie, +</p> +<p> +Then paused, faltered and slid from off his pony. +</p> +<p> +In a little bluff of poplars, hid in the bracken, +</p> +<p> +He lay down; the populace of leaves +</p> +<p> +In the lithe poplars whispered together and trembled, +</p> +<p> +Fluttered before a sunset of gold smoke, +</p> +<p> +With interspaces, green as sea water, +</p> +<p> +And calm as the deep water of the sea. +</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +There Akoose lay, silent amid the bracken, +</p> +<p> +Gathered at last with the Algonquin Chieftains. +</p> +<p> +Then the tenebrous sunset was blown out, +</p> +<p> +And all the smoky gold turned into cloud wrack. +</p> +<p> +Akoose slept forever amid the poplars, +</p> +<p> +Swathed by the wind from the far-off Red Deer +</p> +<p> +Where dinosaurs sleep, clamped in their rocky tombs. +</p> +<p> +Who shall count the time that lies between +</p> +<p> +The sleep of Akoose and the dinosaurs? +</p> +<p> +Innumerable time, that yet is like the breath +</p> +<p> +Of the long wind that creeps upon the prairie +</p> +<p> +And dies away with the shadows at sundown. +</p> +</div> +<hr class="div"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +What we may think, who brood upon the theme, +</p> +<p> +Is, when the old world, tired of spinning, has fallen +</p> +<p> +Asleep, and all the forms, that carried the fire +</p> +<p> +Of life, are cold upon her marble heart— +</p> +<p> +Like ashes on the altar—just as she stops, +</p> +<p> +That something will escape of soul or essence,— +</p> +<p> +The sum of life, to kindle otherwhere: +</p> +<p> +Just as the fruit of a high sunny garden, +</p> +<p> +Grown mellow with autumnal sun and rain, +</p> +<p> +Shrivelled with ripeness, splits to the rich heart, +</p> +<p> +And looses a gold kernel to the mould, +</p> +<p> +So the old world, hanging long in the sun, +</p> +<p> +And deep enriched with effort and with love, +</p> +<p> +Shall, in the motions of maturity, +</p> +<p> +Wither and part, and the kernel of it all +</p> +<p> +Escape, a lovely wraith of spirit, to latitudes +</p> +<p> +Where the appearance, throated like a bird, +</p> +<p> +Winged with fire and bodied all with passion, +</p> +<p> +Shall flame with presage, not of tears, but joy. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="ctr"> +THE END +</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lundy's Lane and Other Poems, by +Duncan Campbell Scott + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LUNDY'S LANE AND OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 22717-h.htm or 22717-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/1/22717/ + +Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +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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