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diff --git a/30659-h/30659-h.htm b/30659-h/30659-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2f878b --- /dev/null +++ b/30659-h/30659-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11910 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of the Works of Robert Louis Stevenson Volume XIV, by Robert Louis Stevenson. + </title> + + <style type="text/css"> + + body { margin-left: 12%; margin-right: 12%; text-align: justify; } + p { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; text-indent: 1em; } + p.noind { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; text-indent: 0; } + p.ct { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; text-indent: 0; margin-left: 0; text-align: center; } + .con {padding-left: 1em; font-size: 85%; } + .sign {text-align: right; padding-right: 2em; } + + h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { text-align: center; } + hr { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 70%; height: 5px; background-color: #dcdcdc; border: none;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + hr.art { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 40%; height: 5px; background-color: #708090; + margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em } + hr.foot {margin-left: 2em; width: 16%; background-color: black; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 0; height: 1px; } + + .f80 { font-size: 80% } + .f90 { font-size: 90% } + + table.nobctr { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; } + table.reg { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both; } + table p { margin-left: 1.5em; text-indent: -1.5em; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; } + + td.tc2 { padding-right: 0; padding-left: 0; text-align: right; vertical-align: top; } + td.tc3 { padding-right: 0; padding-left: 0.5em; text-align: left; } + td.tc2p { padding-right: 0; padding-left: 0; padding-top: 1em; text-align: right; vertical-align: top; } + td.tc3p { padding-right: 0; padding-left: 0.5em; padding-top: 1em; text-align: left; } + + td.caption { font-size: 0.8em; text-align: center; padding-bottom: 1.5em; } + + a:link, a:visited, link {text-decoration: none} + + .center {text-align: center; } + .sp {position: relative; bottom: 0.5em; font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal; } + .scs {font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 75%; } + + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 5%; text-align: right; font-size: 10pt; + background-color: #f5f5f5; color: #778899; text-indent: 0; + padding-left: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; font-style: normal; } + div.note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; font-size: 0.9em; } + .fn { position: absolute; left: 12%; text-align: left; background-color: #f5f5f5; + text-indent: 0; padding-left: 0.2em; padding-right: 0.2em; } + + .figcenter {text-align: center; padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em;} + + div.poemr {margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + div.poemr p {margin-left: 4em; text-indent: -4em; margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; } + div.poemr p.i1 { margin-left: 5em; } + div.poemr p.i15 { margin-left: 5.5em; } + div.poemr p.i2 { margin-left: 6em; } + div.poemr p.i25 { margin-left: 6.5em; } + div.poemr p.i3 { margin-left: 6.5em; } + div.poemr p.i4 { margin-left: 7em; } + div.poemr p.i5 { margin-left: 8em; } + div.poemr p.mi2 { margin-left: 4em; } + div.poemr p.mi1 { margin-left: 5em; } + div.poemr p.s { margin-top: 1.5em;} + div.poemr p.last { margin-bottom: 3em; } + + div.quote { margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; font-size: 90%; line-height: 1.4em; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em; } + div.quote p { margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em; text-indent: 1em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - +Swanston Edition Vol. 14 (of 25), by Robert Louis Stevenson + +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: The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition Vol. 14 (of 25) + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + +Other: Andrew Lang + +Release Date: December 12, 2009 [EBook #30659] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF R.L. STEVENSON V14 OF 25 *** + + + + +Produced by Marius Masi, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h4>THE WORKS OF</h4> + +<h3>ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON</h3> + +<h4>SWANSTON EDITION</h4> + +<h5>VOLUME XIV</h5> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + +<p class="noind center"><i>Of this SWANSTON EDITION in Twenty-five<br /> +Volumes of the Works of ROBERT LOUIS<br /> +STEVENSON Two Thousand and Sixty Copies<br /> +have been printed, of which only Two Thousand<br /> +Copies are for sale.</i></p> + +<p class="noind center"><i>This is No. <span style="font-size: 60%;">............</span></i></p> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<table class="nobctr" style="clear: both; " summary="Illustration"> +<tr> + <td class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img01.jpg" width="520" height="800" alt="ALISON CUNNINGHAM, R. L. S'S NURSE." title="ALISON CUNNINGHAM, R. L. S'S NURSE." /></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="caption">ALISON CUNNINGHAM, R. L. S.’S NURSE</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<h3>THE WORKS OF</h3> +<h2>ROBERT LOUIS</h2> +<h2>STEVENSON</h2> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VOLUME FOURTEEN</h5> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + +<h5>LONDON: PUBLISHED BY CHATTO AND<br /> +WINDUS: IN ASSOCIATION WITH CASSELL<br /> +AND COMPANY LIMITED: WILLIAM<br /> +HEINEMANN: AND LONGMANS GREEN<br /> +AND COMPANY MDCCCCXII</h5> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h6>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</h6> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<h5>A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES</h5> + +<table class="nobctr" width="90%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr style="font-size: 70%; "> <td class="tc2"> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tc2">PAGE</td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="tc2">I.</td> + <td class="tc3"><span class="sc">Bed in Summer</span><br /> + <span class="con">In winter I get up at night</span></td> + <td class="tc2"><a href="#page3">3</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Thought</span><br /> + <span class="con">It is very nice to think</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page3">3</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">At the Sea-side</span><br /> + <span class="con">When I was down beside the sea</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page4">4</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Young Night Thought</span><br /> + <span class="con">All night long, and every night</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page4">4</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Whole Duty of Children</span><br /> + <span class="con">A child should always say what’s true</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page5">5</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Rain</span><br /> + <span class="con">The rain is raining all around</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page5">5</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Pirate Story</span><br /> + <span class="con">Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page5">5</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Foreign Lands</span> <br /> + <span class="con">Up into the cherry-tree</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page6">6</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Windy Nights</span><br /> + <span class="con">Whenever the moon and stars are set</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page7">7</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">X.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Travel</span><br /> + <span class="con">I should like to rise and go</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page7">7</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Singing</span><br /> + <span class="con">Of speckled eggs the birdie sings</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page9">9</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Looking Forward</span><br /> + <span class="con">When I am grown to man’s estate</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page9">9</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Good Play</span><br /> + <span class="con">We built a ship upon the stairs</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page9">9</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Where go the Boats?</span><br /> + <span class="con">Dark brown is the river</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page10">10</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Auntie’s Skirts</span><br /> + <span class="con">Whenever Auntie moves around</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page11">11</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Land of Counterpane</span><br /> + <span class="con">When I was sick and lay a-bed</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page11">11</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Land of Nod</span><br /> + <span class="con">From breakfast on all through the day</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page12">12</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">My Shadow</span><br /> + <span class="con">I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page12">12</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">System</span><br /> + <span class="con">Every night my prayers I say</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page13">13</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Good Boy</span><br /> + <span class="con">I woke before the morning, I was happy all the day</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page14">14</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Escape at Bedtime</span><br /> + <span class="con">The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page14">14</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Marching Song</span><br /> + <span class="con">Bring the comb and play upon it</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page15">15</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Cow</span><br /> + <span class="con">The friendly cow, all red and white</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page16">16</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Happy Thought</span><br /> + <span class="con">The world is so full of a number of things</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page16">16</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Wind</span><br /> + <span class="con">I saw you toss the kites on high</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page16">16</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Keepsake Mill</span><br /> + <span class="con">Over the borders, a sin without pardon</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page17">17</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Good and Bad Children</span><br /> + <span class="con">Children, you are very little</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page18">18</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Foreign Children</span><br /> + <span class="con">Little Indian, Sioux or Crow</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page19">19</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Sun’s Travels</span><br /> + <span class="con">The sun is not a-bed when I</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page20">20</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Lamplighter</span><br /> + <span class="con">My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page20">20</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">My Bed is a Boat</span><br /> + <span class="con">My bed is like a little boat</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page21">21</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Moon</span><br /> + <span class="con">The moon has a face like the clock in the hall</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page22">22</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Swing</span><br /> + <span class="con">How do you like to go up in a swing</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page22">22</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Time to Rise</span><br /> + <span class="con">A birdie with a yellow bill</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page23">23</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Looking-Glass River</span><br /> + <span class="con">Smooth it slides upon its travel</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page23">23</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Fairy Bread</span><br /> + <span class="con">Come up here, O dusty feet</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page24">24</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">From a Railway Carriage</span><br /> + <span class="con">Faster than fairies, faster than witches</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page24">24</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Winter-Time</span><br /> + <span class="con">Late lies the wintry sun a-bed</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page25">25</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Hayloft</span><br /> + <span class="con">Through all the pleasant meadow-side</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page26">26</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XL.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Farewell to the Farm</span><br /> + <span class="con">The coach is at the door at last</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page26">26</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XLI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">North-West Passage</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page27">27</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p"> </td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc" style="padding-left: 0.5em;">1. Good Night</span><br /> + <span class="con">When the bright lamp is carried in</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page27">27</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p"> </td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc" style="padding-left: 0.5em;">2. Shadow March</span><br /> + <span class="con">All round the house is the jet-black night</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page28">28</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p"> </td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc" style="padding-left: 0.5em;">3. In Port</span><br /> + <span class="con">Last, to the chamber where I lie</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page28">28</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>THE CHILD ALONE</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Unseen Playmate</span><br /> + <span class="con">When children are playing alone on the green</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page31">31</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">My Ship and I</span><br /> + <span class="con">O it’s I that am the captain of a tidy little ship</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page32">32</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">My Kingdom</span><br /> + <span class="con">Down by a shining water well</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page32">32</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Picture-Books in Winter</span><br /> + <span class="con">Summer fading, winter comes</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page33">33</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">My Treasures</span><br /> + <span class="con">These nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page34">34</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Block City</span><br /> + <span class="con">What are you able to build with your blocks</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page35">35</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Land of Story-Books</span><br /> + <span class="con">At evening when the lamp is lit</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page36">36</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Armies in the Fire</span><br /> + <span class="con">The lamps now glitter down the street</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page37">37</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Little Land</span><br /> + <span class="con">When at home alone I sit</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page38">38</a></td> </tr> + + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>GARDEN DAYS</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Night and Day</span><br /> + <span class="con">When the golden day is done</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page43">43</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Nest Eggs</span><br /> + <span class="con">Birds all the sunny day</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page44">44</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Flowers</span><br /> + <span class="con">All the names I know from nurse</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page46">46</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Summer Sun</span><br /> + <span class="con">Great is the sun, and wide he goes</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page46">46</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Dumb Soldier</span><br /> + <span class="con">When the grass was closely mown</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page47">47</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Autumn Fires</span><br /> + <span class="con">In the other gardens</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page49">49</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Gardener</span><br /> + <span class="con">The gardener does not love to talk</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page49">49</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Historical Associations</span><br /> + <span class="con">Dear Uncle Jim, this garden ground</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page50">50</a></td> </tr> + + + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>ENVOYS</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Willie and Henrietta</span><br /> + <span class="con">If two may read aright</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page55">55</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To My Mother</span><br /> + <span class="con">You too, my mother, read my rhymes</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page55">55</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Auntie</span><br /> + <span class="con"><i>Chief of our aunts</i>—not only I</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page56">56</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Minnie</span><br /> + <span class="con">The red room with the giant bed</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page56">56</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To my Name-Child</span><br /> + <span class="con">Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page58">58</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To any Reader</span><br /> + <span class="con">As from the house your mother sees</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page59">59</a></td> </tr> + + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h4>UNDERWOODS</h4></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="3"><h5>BOOK I: IN ENGLISH</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Envoy</span><br /> + <span class="con">Go, little book, and wish to all</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page67">67</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Song of the Road</span><br /> + <span class="con">The gauger walked with willing foot</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page67">67</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Canoe Speaks</span><br /> + <span class="con">On the great streams the ships may go</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page68">68</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">It is the season now to go</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page70">70</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The House Beautiful</span><br /> + <span class="con"><i>A naked house, a naked moor</i></span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page71">71</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Visit From The Sea</span><br /> + <span class="con">Far from the loud sea beaches</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page72">72</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To a Gardener</span><br /> + <span class="con">Friend, in my mountain-side demesne</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page73">73</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Minnie</span><br /> + <span class="con">A picture-frame for you to fill</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page74">74</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To K. de M.</span><br /> + <span class="con">A lover of the moorland bare</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page74">74</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">X.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To N. V. de G. S.</span><br /> + <span class="con">The unfathomable sea, and time, and tears</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page75">75</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Will. H. Low</span><br /> + <span class="con">Youth now flees on feathered foot</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page76">76</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Mrs. Will. H. Low</span><br /> + <span class="con">Even in the bluest noonday of July</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page77">77</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To H. F. Brown</span><br /> + <span class="con">I sit and wait a pair of oars</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page78">78</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Andrew Lang</span><br /> + <span class="con">Dear Andrew, with the brindled hair</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page79">79</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Et tu in Arcadia vixisti (to r. a. m. s.)</span><br /> + <span class="con">In ancient tales, O friend, thy spirit dwelt</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page80">80</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To W. E. Henley</span><br /> + <span class="con">The year runs through her phases; rain and sun</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page82">82</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Henry James</span><br /> + <span class="con">Who comes to-night? We ope the doors in vain</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page83">83</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Mirror Speaks</span><br /> + <span class="con">Where the bells peal far at sea</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page84">84</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Katharine</span><br /> + <span class="con">We see you as we see a face</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page85">85</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To F. J. S.</span><br /> + <span class="con">I read, dear friend, in your dear face</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page85">85</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Requiem</span><br /> + <span class="con">Under the wide and starry sky</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page86">86</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Celestial Surgeon</span><br /> + <span class="con">If I have faltered more or less</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page86">86</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Our Lady of the Snows</span><br /> + <span class="con">Out of the sun, out of the blast</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page87">87</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Not yet, my soul, these friendly fields desert</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page89">89</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">It is not yours, O mother, to complain</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page90">90</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Sick Child</span><br /> + <span class="con">O mother, lay your hand on my brow</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page92">92</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">In Memoriam F. A. S.</span><br /> + <span class="con">Yet, O stricken heart, remember, O remember</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page93">93</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To my Father</span><br /> + <span class="con">Peace and her huge invasion to these shores</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page93">93</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">In the States</span><br /> + <span class="con">With half a heart I wander here</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page94">94</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Portrait</span><br /> + <span class="con">I am a kind of farthing dip</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page95">95</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Sing clearlier, Muse, or evermore be still</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page96">96</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Camp</span><br /> + <span class="con">The bed was made, the room was fit</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page96">96</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Country of the Camisards</span><br /> + <span class="con">We travelled in the print of olden wars</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page96">96</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Skerryvore</span><br /> + <span class="con">For love of lovely words, and for the sake</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page97">97</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Skerryvore: The Parallel</span><br /> + <span class="con">Here all is sunny, and when the truant gull</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page97">97</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con"><i>My house</i>, I say. But hark to the sunny doves</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page98">98</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">My body which my dungeon is</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page98">98</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Say not of me that weakly I declined</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page99">99</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>BOOK II: IN SCOTS</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Maker to Posterity</span><br /> + <span class="con">Far ’yont amang the years to be</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page105">105</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Ille Terrarum</span><br /> + <span class="con">Frae nirly, nippin’, Eas’lan’ breeze</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page106">106</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">When aince Aprile has fairly come</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page109">109</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Mile an’ a Bittock </span><br /> + <span class="con">A mile an’ a bittock, a mile or twa</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page110">110</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Lowden Sabbath Morn</span><br /> + <span class="con">The clinkum-clank o’ Sabbath bells</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page111">111</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Spaewife</span><br /> + <span class="con">O, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page116">116</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Blast—1875</span><br /> + <span class="con">It’s rainin’. Weet’s the gairden sod</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page116">116</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Counterblast—1886</span><br /> + <span class="con">My bonny man, the warld, it’s true</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page118">118</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Counterblast Ironical</span><br /> + <span class="con">It’s strange that God should fash to frame</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page120">120</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">X.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Their Laureate to an Academy Class Dinner Club</span><br /> + <span class="con">Dear Thamson class, whaure’er I gang</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page121">121</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Embro Hie Kirk</span><br /> + <span class="con">The Lord Himsel’ in former days</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page123">123</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Scotsman’s Return from Abroad</span><br /> + <span class="con">In mony a foreign pairt I’ve been</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page125">125</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Late In the night in bed I lay</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page129">129</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">My Conscience!</span><br /> + <span class="con">Of a’ the ills that flesh can fear</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page131">131</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Dr. John Brown</span><br /> + <span class="con">By Lyne and Tyne, by Thames and Tees</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page133">133</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">It’s an owercome sooth for age an’ youth</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page135">135</a></td> </tr> + + + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h4>BALLADS</h4></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="3"><h5>THE SONG OF RAHÉRO</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="3"><h6>A LEGEND OF TAHITI</h6></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Slaying of Támatéa</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page139">139</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Venging Of Támatéa</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page148">148</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Rahéro</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page159">159</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>THE FEAST OF FAMINE</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="3"><h6>MARQUESAN MANNERS</h6></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Priest’s Vigil</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page169">169</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Lovers</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page172">172</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Feast</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page176">176</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Raid</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page182">182</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>TICONDEROGA</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="3"><h6>A LEGEND OF THE WEST HIGHLANDS</h6></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Saying of the Name</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page189">189</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Seeking of the Name</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page194">194</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Place of the Name</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page196">196</a></td> </tr> + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>HEATHER ALE</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="center" colspan="3"><h6>A GALLOWAY LEGEND</h6></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p"> </td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="con">From the bonny bells of heather</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page201">201</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h5>CHRISTMAS AT SEA</h5></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p"> </td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="con">The sheets were frozen hard</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page207">207</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc3p" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Notes to The Song of Rahéro</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page211">211</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc3p" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Notes to The Feast of Famine</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page213">213</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc3p" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Notes to Ticonderoga</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page214">214</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc3p" colspan="2"><span class="sc">Note to Heather Ale</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page215">215</a></td> </tr> + + + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h4>SONGS OF TRAVEL</h4></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Vagabond</span><br /> + <span class="con">Give to me the life I love</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page219">219</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Youth and Love—I</span><br /> + <span class="con">Once only by the garden gate</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page220">220</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Youth and Love—II</span><br /> + <span class="con">To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page221">221</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">In dreams, unhappy, I behold you stand</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page221">221</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">She rested by the Broken Brook</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page222">222</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">The infinite shining heavens</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page222">222</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Plain as the glistering planets shine</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page223">223</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">To you, let snow and roses</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page224">224</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Let Beauty awake in the morn from beautiful dreams</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page224">224</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">X.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">I know not how it is with you</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page225">225</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">I will make you brooches and toys for your delight</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page225">225</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">We have loved of Yore</span><br /> + <span class="con">Berried brake and reedy island</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page226">226</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Mater Triumphans</span><br /> + <span class="con">Son of my woman’s body, you go, to the drum and fife</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page227">227</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Bright is the ring of words</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page227">227</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">In the highlands, in the country places</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page228">228</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Home no more home to me, whither must I wander</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page229">229</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Winter</span><br /> + <span class="con">In rigorous hours, when down the iron lane</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page230">230</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">The stormy evening closes now in vain</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page230">230</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Dr. Hake</span><br /> + <span class="con">In the beloved hour that ushers day</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page231">231</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To ——</span><br /> + <span class="con">I knew thee strong and quiet like the hills</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page232">232</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">The morning drum-call on my eager ear</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page233">233</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">I have trod the upward and the downward slope</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page233">233</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">He hears with gladdened heart the thunder</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page233">233</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Farewell, fair day and fading light</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page233">233</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">If this were Faith</span><br /> + <span class="con">God, if this were enough</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page234">234</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">My Wife</span><br /> + <span class="con">Trusty, dusky, vivid, true</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page235">235</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To the Muse</span><br /> + <span class="con">Resign the rhapsody, the dream</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page236">236</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To an Island Princess</span><br /> + <span class="con">Since long ago, a child at home</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page237">237</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Kalakaua</span><br /> + <span class="con">The Silver Ship, my King—that was her name</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page238">238</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Princess Kaiulani</span><br /> + <span class="con">Forth from her land to mine she goes</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page239">239</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Mother Maryanne</span><br /> + <span class="con">To see the infinite pity of this place</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page240">240</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">In Memoriam E. H.</span><br /> + <span class="con">I knew a silver head was bright beyond compare</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page240">240</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To my Wife</span><br /> + <span class="con">Long must elapse ere you behold again</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page241">241</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To my old Familiars</span><br /> + <span class="con">Do you remember—can we e’er forget</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page242">242</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">The tropics vanish, and meseems that I</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page243">243</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To S. C.</span><br /> + <span class="con">I heard the pulse of the besieging sea</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page244">244</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The House of Tembinoka</span><br /> + <span class="con"><i>Let us, who part like brothers, part like bards</i></span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page245">245</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXVIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Woodman</span><br /> + <span class="con">In all the grove, nor stream nor bird</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page249">249</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XXXIX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Tropic Rain</span><br /> + <span class="con">As the single pang of the blow, when the metal is mingled well</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page254">254</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XL.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">An End of Travel</span><br /> + <span class="con">Let now your soul in this substantial world</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page255">255</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XLI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">We uncommiserate pass into the night</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page255">255</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XLII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><br /> + <span class="con">Sing me a song of a lad that is gone</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page256">256</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XLIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To S. R. Crockett</span><br /> + <span class="con">Blows the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page257">257</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XLIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Evensong</span><br /> + <span class="con">The embers of the day are red</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page257">257</a></td> </tr> + + + +<tr> <td class="center" style="padding-top: 2em;" colspan="3"><h4>ADDITIONAL POEMS</h4></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">I.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Familiar Epistle</span><br /> + <span class="con">Blame me not that this epistle</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page261">261</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">II.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Rondels</span><br /> + <span class="con">1. Far have you come, my lady, from the town</span><br /> + <span class="con">2. Nous n’irons plus au bois</span><br /> + <span class="con">3. Since I am sworn to live my life</span><br /> + <span class="con">4. Of his pitiable transformation</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page263">263</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">III.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Epistle to Charles Baxter</span><br /> + <span class="con">Noo lyart leaves blaw ower the green</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page265">265</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Susquehannah and the Delaware</span><br /> + <span class="con">Of where or how, I nothing know</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page267">267</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">V.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Epistle to Albert Dew-Smith</span><br /> + <span class="con">Figure me to yourself, I pray</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page268">268</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Alcaics to Horatio F. Brown</span><br /> + <span class="con">Brave lads in olden musical centuries</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page270">270</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">A Lytle Jape of Tusherie</span><br /> + <span class="con">The pleasant river gushes</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page272">272</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">VIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">To Virgil and Dora Williams</span><br /> + <span class="con">Here, from the forelands of the tideless sea</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page273">273</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">IX.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Burlesque Sonnet</span><br /> + <span class="con">Thee, Mackintosh, artificer of light</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page273">273</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">X.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Fine Pacific Islands</span><br /> + <span class="con">The jolly English Yellowboy</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page274">274</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XI.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Auld Reekie</span><br /> + <span class="con">When chitterin’ cauld the day sall daw</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page275">275</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Lesson of the Master</span><br /> + <span class="con">Adela, Adela, Adela Chart</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page276">276</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIII.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">The Consecration of Braille</span><br /> + <span class="con">I was a barren tree before</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page276">276</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2p">XIV.</td> + <td class="tc3p"><span class="sc">Song</span><br /> + <span class="con">Light foot and tight foot</span></td> + <td class="tc2p"><a href="#page277">277</a></td> </tr> +</table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page1"></a>1</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>A CHILD’S</h2> +<h2>GARDEN OF VERSES</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page2"></a>2</span></p> +<h5><i>TO</i></h5> + +<h4><i>ALISON CUNNINGHAM</i></h4> + +<h5><i>FROM HER BOY</i></h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> +<p><i>For the long nights you lay awake</i></p> +<p><i>And watched for my unworthy sake:</i></p> +<p><i>For your most comfortable hand</i></p> +<p><i>That led me through the uneven land:</i></p> +<p><i>For all the story-books you read:</i></p> +<p><i>For all the pains you comforted:</i></p> +<p><i>For all you pitied, all you bore,</i></p> +<p><i>In sad and happy days of yore:—</i></p> +<p><i>My second Mother, my first Wife,</i></p> +<p><i>The angel of my infant life—</i></p> +<p><i>From the sick child, now well and old,</i></p> +<p><i>Take, nurse, the little book you hold!</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>And grant it, Heaven, that all who read</i></p> +<p><i>May find as dear a nurse at need,</i></p> +<p><i>And every child who lists my rhyme,</i></p> +<p><i>In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,</i></p> +<p><i>May hear it in as kind a voice</i></p> +<p><i>As made my childish days rejoice!</i></p> +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<p class="sign"><i>R. L. S.</i></p> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page3"></a>3</span></p> + +<h2>A CHILD’S</h2> +<h2>GARDEN OF VERSES</h2> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>BED IN SUMMER</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> +<p><span class="sc">In</span> winter I get up at night</p> +<p>And dress by yellow candle-light.</p> +<p>In summer, quite the other way,—</p> +<p>I have to go to bed by day.</p> + +<p class="s">I have to go to bed and see</p> +<p>The birds still hopping on the tree,</p> +<p>Or hear the grown-up people’s feet</p> +<p>Still going past me in the street.</p> + +<p class="s">And does it not seem hard to you,</p> +<p>When all the sky is clear and blue,</p> +<p>And I should like so much to play,</p> +<p class="last">To have to go to bed by day?</p> +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>A THOUGHT</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> +<p><span class="sc">It</span> is very nice to think</p> +<p>The world is full of meat and drink,</p> +<p>With little children saying grace</p> +<p class="last">In every Christian kind of place.</p> +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page4"></a>4</span></p> + +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>AT THE SEA-SIDE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> I was down beside the sea,</p> +<p>A wooden spade they gave to me</p> +<p class="i1">To dig the sandy shore.</p> +<p>My holes were empty like a cup,</p> +<p>In every hole the sea came up,</p> +<p class="i1 last">Till it could come no more.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<h3>YOUNG NIGHT THOUGHT</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">All</span> night long, and every night,</p> +<p>When my mamma puts out the light,</p> +<p>I see the people marching by,</p> +<p>As plain as day, before my eye.</p> + +<p class="s">Armies and emperors and kings,</p> +<p>All carrying different kinds of things,</p> +<p>And marching in so grand a way,</p> +<p>You never saw the like by day.</p> + +<p class="s">So fine a show was never seen</p> +<p>At the great circus on the green;</p> +<p>For every kind of beast and man</p> +<p>Is marching in that caravan.</p> + +<p class="s">At first they move a little slow,</p> +<p>But still the faster on they go,</p> +<p>And still beside them close I keep</p> +<p class="last">Until we reach the town of Sleep.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page5"></a>5</span></p> + +<h5>V</h5> + +<h3>WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">A child</span> should always say what’s true,</p> +<p>And speak when he is spoken to,</p> +<p>And behave mannerly at table:</p> +<p class="last">At least as far as he is able.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<h3>RAIN</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> rain is raining all around,</p> +<p class= "i1">It falls on field and tree,</p> +<p>It rains on the umbrellas here,</p> +<p class= "i1 last">And on the ships at sea.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<h3>PIRATE STORY</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Three</span> of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,</p> + <p class="i1">Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea.</p> +<p>Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,</p> + <p class="i1">And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.</p> + +<p class="s">Where shall we adventure, to-day that we’re afloat,</p> + <p class="i1">Wary of the weather, and steering by a star?</p> +<p>Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,</p> + <p class="i1">To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page6"></a>6</span></p> + +<p class="s">Hi! but here’s a squadron a-rowing on the sea—</p> + <p class="i1">Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!</p> +<p>Quick, and we’ll escape them, they’re as mad as they can be,</p> + <p class="i1">The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<h3>FOREIGN LANDS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Up</span> into the cherry-tree</p> +<p>Who should climb but little me?</p> +<p>I held the trunk with both my hands</p> +<p>And looked abroad on foreign lands.</p> + +<p class="s">I saw the next-door garden lie,</p> +<p>Adorned with flowers, before my eye,</p> +<p>And many pleasant places more</p> +<p>That I had never seen before.</p> + +<p class="s">I saw the dimpling river pass</p> +<p>And be the sky’s blue looking-glass;</p> +<p>The dusty roads go up and down</p> +<p>With people tramping in to town.</p> + +<p class="s">If I could find a higher tree,</p> +<p>Farther and farther I should see</p> +<p>To where the grown-up river slips</p> +<p>Into the sea among the ships,</p> + +<p class="s">To where the roads on either hand</p> +<p>Lead onward into fairy-land,</p> +<p>Where all the children dine at five,</p> +<p>And all the playthings come alive.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page7"></a>7</span></p> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<h3>WINDY NIGHTS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Whenever</span> the moon and stars are set,</p> + <p class="i1">Whenever the wind is high,</p> +<p>All night long in the dark and wet,</p> + <p class="i1">A man goes riding by.</p> +<p>Late in the night when the fires are out,</p> +<p>Why does he gallop and gallop about?</p> + +<p class="s">Whenever the trees are crying aloud,</p> + <p class="i1">And ships are tossed at sea,</p> +<p>By, on the highway, low and loud,</p> + <p class="i1">By at the gallop goes he.</p> +<p>By at the gallop he goes, and then</p> +<p>By he comes back at the gallop again.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>X</h5> + +<h3>TRAVEL</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I should</span> like to rise and go</p> +<p>Where the golden apples grow;—</p> +<p>Where below another sky</p> +<p>Parrot islands anchored lie,</p> +<p>And, watched by cockatoos and goats,</p> +<p>Lonely Crusoes building boats;—</p> +<p>Where in sunshine reaching out</p> +<p>Eastern cities, miles about,</p> +<p>Are with mosque and minaret</p> +<p>Among sandy gardens set,</p> +<p>And the rich goods from near and far</p> +<p>Hang for sale in the bazaar;—</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page8"></a>8</span></p> +<p>Where the Great Wall round China goes,</p> +<p>And on one side the desert blows,</p> +<p>And with bell and voice and drum,</p> +<p>Cities on the other hum;—</p> +<p>Where are forests, hot as fire,</p> +<p>Wide as England, tall as a spire,</p> +<p>Full of apes and cocoa-nuts</p> +<p>And the negro hunters’ huts;—</p> +<p>Where the knotty crocodile</p> +<p>Lies and blinks in the Nile,</p> +<p>And the red flamingo flies</p> +<p>Hunting fish before his eyes;—</p> +<p>Where in jungles, near and far,</p> +<p>Man-devouring tigers are,</p> +<p>Lying close and giving ear</p> +<p>Lest the hunt be drawing near,</p> +<p>Or a comer-by be seen</p> +<p>Swinging in a palanquin;—</p> +<p>Where among the desert sands</p> +<p>Some deserted city stands,</p> +<p>All its children, sweep and prince,</p> +<p>Grown to manhood ages since,</p> +<p>Not a foot in street or house,</p> +<p>Nor a stir of child or mouse,</p> +<p>And when kindly falls the night,</p> +<p>In all the town no spark of light.</p> +<p>There I’ll come when I’m a man</p> +<p>With a camel caravan;</p> +<p>Light a fire in the gloom</p> +<p>Of some dusty dining-room;</p> +<p>See the pictures on the walls,</p> +<p>Heroes, fights, and festivals;</p> +<p>And in a corner find the toys</p> +<p>Of the old Egyptian boys.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page9"></a>9</span></p> +<h5>XI</h5> + +<h3>SINGING</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Of</span> speckled eggs the birdie sings</p> + <p class="i1">And nests among the trees;</p> +<p>The sailor sings of ropes and things</p> + <p class="i1">In ships upon the seas.</p> + +<p class="s">The children sing in far Japan,</p> + <p class="i1">The children sing in Spain;</p> +<p>The organ with the organ man</p> + <p class="i1">Is singing in the rain.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XII</h5> + +<h3>LOOKING FORWARD</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> I am grown to man’s estate</p> +<p>I shall be very proud and great,</p> +<p>And tell the other girls and boys</p> +<p>Not to meddle with my toys.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIII</h5> + +<h3>A GOOD PLAY</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">We</span> built a ship upon the stairs</p> +<p>All made of the back-bedroom chairs</p> +<p>And filled it full of sofa pillows</p> +<p>To go a-sailing on the billows.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page10"></a>10</span></p> + +<p class="s">We took a saw and several nails,</p> +<p>And water in the nursery pails;</p> +<p>And Tom said, “Let us also take</p> +<p>An apple and a slice of cake”;—</p> +<p>Which was enough for Tom and me</p> +<p>To go a-sailing on, till tea.</p> + +<p class="s">We sailed along for days and days,</p> +<p>And had the very best of plays;</p> +<p>But Tom fell out and hurt his knee,</p> +<p>So there was no one left but me.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIV</h5> + +<h3>WHERE GO THE BOATS?</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Dark</span> brown is the river,</p> + <p class="i1">Golden is the sand.</p> +<p>It flows along for ever,</p> + <p class="i1">With trees on either hand.</p> + +<p class="s">Green leaves a-floating,</p> + <p class="i1">Castles of the foam,</p> +<p>Boats of mine a-boating—</p> + <p class="i1">Where will all come home?</p> + +<p class="s">On goes the river,</p> + <p class="i1">And out past the mill,</p> +<p>Away down the valley,</p> + <p class="i1">Away down the hill.</p> + +<p class="s">Away down the river,</p> + <p class="i1">A hundred miles or more,</p> +<p>Other little children</p> + <p class="i1">Shall bring my boats ashore.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page11"></a>11</span></p> +<h5>XV</h5> + +<h3>AUNTIE’S SKIRTS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Whenever</span> Auntie moves around,</p> +<p>Her dresses make a curious sound;</p> +<p>They trail behind her up the floor,</p> +<p>And trundle after through the door.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVI</h5> + +<h3>THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> I was sick and lay a-bed,</p> +<p>I had two pillows at my head,</p> +<p>And all my toys beside me lay</p> +<p>To keep me happy all the day.</p> + +<p class="s">And sometimes for an hour or so</p> +<p>I watched my leaden soldiers go,</p> +<p>With different uniforms and drills,</p> +<p>Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;</p> + +<p class="s">And sometimes sent my ships in fleets</p> +<p>All up and down among the sheets;</p> +<p>Or brought my trees and houses out,</p> +<p>And planted cities all about.</p> + +<p class="s">I was the giant great and still</p> +<p>That sits upon the pillow-hill,</p> +<p>And sees before him, dale and plain,</p> +<p>The pleasant land of counterpane.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page12"></a>12</span></p> +<h5>XVII</h5> + +<h3>THE LAND OF NOD</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">From</span> breakfast on all through the day</p> +<p>At home among my friends I stay;</p> +<p>But every night I go abroad</p> +<p>Afar into the land of Nod.</p> + +<p class="s">All by myself I have to go,</p> +<p>With none to tell me what to do—</p> +<p>All alone beside the streams</p> +<p>And up the mountain-sides of dreams.</p> + +<p class="s">The strangest things are there for me,</p> +<p>Both things to eat and things to see,</p> +<p>And many frightening sights abroad</p> +<p>Till morning in the land of Nod.</p> + +<p class="s">Try as I like to find the way,</p> +<p>I never can get back by day,</p> +<p>Nor can remember plain and clear</p> +<p>The curious music that I hear.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVIII</h5> + +<h3>MY SHADOW</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="s"><span class="sc">I have</span> a little shadow that goes in and out with me,</p> +<p>And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.</p> +<p>He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;</p> +<p>And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page13"></a>13</span></p> + +<p class="s">The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—</p> +<p>Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;</p> +<p>For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,</p> +<p>And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.</p> + +<p class="s">He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,</p> +<p>And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.</p> +<p>He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;</p> +<p>I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!</p> + +<p class="s">One morning, very early, before the sun was up,</p> +<p>I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;</p> +<p>But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,</p> +<p>Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIX</h5> + +<h3>SYSTEM</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Every</span> night my prayers I say,</p> +<p>And get my dinner every day;</p> +<p>And every day that I’ve been good,</p> +<p>I get an orange after food.</p> + +<p class="s">The child that is not clean and neat,</p> +<p>With lots of toys and things to eat,</p> +<p>He is a naughty child, I’m sure—</p> +<p>Or else his dear papa is poor.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page14"></a>14</span></p> +<h5>XX</h5> + +<h3>A GOOD BOY</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I woke</span> before the morning, I was happy all the day,</p> +<p>I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play.</p> + +<p class="s">And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood,</p> +<p>And I am very happy, for I know that I’ve been good.</p> + +<p class="s">My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen smooth and fair,</p> +<p>And I must off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my prayer.</p> + +<p class="s">I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun arise,</p> +<p>No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly sight my eyes,</p> + +<p class="s">But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn,</p> +<p>And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXI</h5> + +<h3>ESCAPE AT BEDTIME</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out</p> + <p class="i1">Through the blinds and the windows and bars;</p> +<p>And high overhead and all moving about,</p> + <p class="i1">There were thousands of millions of stars.</p> +<p>There ne’er were such thousands of leaves on a tree,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor of people in church or the Park,</p> +<p>As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me,</p> + <p class="i1">And that glittered and winked in the dark.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page15"></a>15</span></p> +<p>The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all,</p> + <p class="i1">And the star of the sailor, and Mars,</p> +<p>These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall</p> + <p class="i1">Would be half full of water and stars.</p> +<p>They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries,</p> + <p class="i1">And they soon had me packed into bed;</p> +<p>But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes,</p> + <p class="i1">And the stars going round in my head.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXII</h5> + +<h3>MARCHING SONG</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Bring</span> the comb and play upon it!</p> + <p class="i1">Marching, here we come!</p> +<p>Willie cocks his Highland bonnet,</p> + <p class="i1">Johnnie beats the drum.</p> + +<p class="s">Mary Jane commands the party,</p> + <p class="i1">Peter leads the rear;</p> +<p>Feet in time, alert and hearty,</p> + <p class="i1">Each a Grenadier!</p> + +<p class="s">All in the most martial manner</p> + <p class="i1">Marching double-quick;</p> +<p>While the napkin like a banner</p> + <p class="i1">Waves upon the stick!</p> + +<p class="s">Here’s enough of fame and pillage,</p> + <p class="i1">Great commander Jane!</p> +<p>Now that we’ve been round the village,</p> + <p class="i1">Let’s go home again.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page16"></a>16</span></p> +<h5>XXIII</h5> + +<h3>THE COW</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> friendly cow, all red and white,</p> + <p class="i1">I love with all my heart:</p> +<p>She gives me cream with all her might,</p> + <p class="i1">To eat with apple-tart.</p> + +<p class="s">She wanders lowing here and there,</p> + <p class="i1">And yet she cannot stray,</p> +<p>All in the pleasant open air,</p> + <p class="i1">The pleasant light of day;</p> + +<p class="s">And blown by all the winds that pass,</p> + <p class="i1">And wet with all the showers,</p> +<p>She walks among the meadow grass</p> + <p class="i1">And eats the meadow flowers.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIV</h5> + +<h3>HAPPY THOUGHT</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> world is so full of a number of things,</p> +<p>I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXV</h5> + +<h3>THE WIND</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I saw</span> you toss the kites on high</p> +<p>And blow the birds about the sky;</p> +<p>And all around I heard you pass,</p> +<p>Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—</p> + <p class="i2">O wind, a-blowing all day long,</p> + <p class="i2">O wind, that sings so loud a song!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page17"></a>17</span></p> + +<p class="s">I saw the different things you did,</p> +<p>But always you yourself you hid.</p> +<p>I felt you push, I heard you call,</p> +<p>I could not see yourself at all—</p> + <p class="i2">O wind, a-blowing all day long,</p> + <p class="i2">O wind, that sings so loud a song!</p> + +<p class="s">O you that are so strong and cold,</p> +<p>O blower, are you young or old?</p> +<p>Are you a beast of field and tree,</p> +<p>Or just a stronger child than me?</p> + <p class="i2">O wind, a-blowing all day long,</p> + <p class="i2">O wind, that sings so loud a song!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVI</h5> + +<h3>KEEPSAKE MILL</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Over</span> the borders, a sin without pardon,</p> + <p class="i1">Breaking the branches and crawling below,</p> +<p>Out through the breach in the wall of the garden,</p> + <p class="i1">Down by the banks of the river, we go.</p> + +<p class="s">Here is the mill with the humming of thunder,</p> + <p class="i1">Here is the weir with the wonder of foam,</p> +<p>Here is the sluice with the race running under—</p> + <p class="i1">Marvellous places, though handy to home!</p> + +<p class="s">Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller,</p> + <p class="i1">Stiller the note of the birds on the hill;</p> +<p>Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller,</p> + <p class="i1">Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page18"></a>18</span></p> + +<p class="s">Years may go by, and the wheel in the river,</p> + <p class="i1">Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day,</p> +<p>Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever,</p> + <p class="i1">Long after all of the boys are away.</p> + +<p class="s">Home from the Indies, and home from the ocean,</p> + <p class="i1">Heroes and soldiers we all shall come home;</p> +<p>Still we shall find the old mill-wheel in motion,</p> + <p class="i1">Turning and churning that river to foam.</p> + +<p class="s">You with the bean that I gave when we quarrelled,</p> + <p class="i1">I with your marble of Saturday last,</p> +<p>Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled,</p> + <p class="i1">Here we shall meet and remember the past.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVII</h5> + +<h3>GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Children</span>, you are very little,</p> +<p>And your bones are very brittle;</p> +<p>If you would grow great and stately,</p> +<p>You must try to walk sedately.</p> + +<p class="s">You must still be bright and quiet,</p> +<p>And content with simple diet;</p> +<p>And remain, through all bewild’ring,</p> +<p>Innocent and honest children.</p> + +<p class="s">Happy hearts and happy faces,</p> +<p>Happy play in grassy places—</p> +<p>That was how, in ancient ages,</p> +<p>Children grew to kings and sages.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page19"></a>19</span></p> + +<p class="s">But the unkind and the unruly,</p> +<p>And the sort who eat unduly,</p> +<p>They must never hope for glory—</p> +<p>Theirs is quite a different story!</p> + +<p class="s">Cruel children, crying babies,</p> +<p>All grow up as geese and gabies,</p> +<p>Hated, as their age increases,</p> +<p>By their nephews and their nieces.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVIII</h5> + +<h3>FOREIGN CHILDREN</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + + <p class="i1"><span class="sc">Little</span> Indian, Sioux or Crow,</p> + <p class="i1">Little frosty Eskimo,</p> + <p class="i1">Little Turk or Japanee,</p> +<p>O! don’t you wish that you were me?</p> + +<p class="s">You have seen the scarlet trees</p> +<p>And the lions over seas;</p> +<p>You have eaten ostrich eggs,</p> +<p>And turned the turtles off their legs.</p> + +<p class="s">Such a life is very fine,</p> +<p>But it’s not so nice as mine;</p> +<p>You must often, as you trod,</p> +<p>Have wearied <i>not</i> to be abroad.</p> + +<p class="s">You have curious things to eat,</p> +<p>I am fed on proper meat;</p> +<p>You must dwell beyond the foam,</p> +<p>But I am safe and live at home.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page20"></a>20</span></p> + +<p class="s i1">Little Indian, Sioux or Crow</p> + <p class="i1">Little frosty Eskimo,</p> + <p class="i1">Little Turk or Japanee,</p> +<p>O! don’t you wish that you were me?</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIX</h5> + +<h3>THE SUN’S TRAVELS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> sun is not a-bed when I</p> +<p>At night upon my pillow lie;</p> +<p>Still round the earth his way he takes,</p> +<p>And morning after morning makes.</p> + +<p class="s">While here at home, in shining day,</p> +<p>We round the sunny garden play,</p> +<p>Each little Indian sleepy-head</p> +<p>Is being kissed and put to bed.</p> + +<p class="s">And when at eve I rise from tea,</p> +<p>Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea,</p> +<p>And all the children in the West</p> +<p>Are getting up and being dressed.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXX</h5> + +<h3>THE LAMPLIGHTER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">My</span> tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky;</p> +<p>It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by;</p> +<p>For every night at tea-time and before you take your seat,</p> +<p>With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page21"></a>21</span></p> + +<p class="s">Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea,</p> +<p>And my papa’s a banker and as rich as he can be;</p> +<p>But I, when I am stronger, and can choose what I’m to do,</p> +<p>O Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light the lamps with you!</p> + +<p class="s">For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,</p> +<p>And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;</p> +<p>And O! before you hurry by with ladder and with light,</p> +<p>O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXI</h5> + +<h3>MY BED IS A BOAT</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">My</span> bed is like a little boat;</p> + <p class="i1">Nurse helps me in when I embark;</p> +<p>She girds me in my sailor’s coat</p> + <p class="i1">And starts me in the dark.</p> + +<p class="s">At night, I go on board and say</p> + <p class="i1">Good-night to all my friends on shore;</p> +<p>I shut my eyes and sail away</p> + <p class="i1">And see and hear no more.</p> + +<p class="s">And sometimes things to bed I take,</p> + <p class="i1">As prudent sailors have to do:</p> +<p>Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,</p> + <p class="i1">Perhaps a toy or two.</p> + +<p class="s">All night across the dark we steer:</p> + <p class="i1">But when the day returns at last,</p> +<p>Safe in my room, beside the pier,</p> + <p class="i1">I find my vessel fast.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page22"></a>22</span></p> +<h5>XXXII</h5> + +<h3>THE MOON</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> moon has a face like the clock in the hall;</p> +<p>She shines on thieves on the garden wall,</p> +<p>On streets and fields and harbour quays,</p> +<p>And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.</p> + +<p class="s">The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,</p> +<p>The howling dog by the door of the house,</p> +<p>The bat that lies in bed at noon,</p> +<p>All love to be out by the light of the moon.</p> + +<p class="s">But all of the things that belong to the day</p> +<p>Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;</p> +<p>And flowers and children close their eyes</p> +<p>Till up in the morning the sun shall arise.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXIII</h5> + +<h3>THE SWING</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">How</span> do you like to go up in a swing,</p> + <p class="i1">Up in the air so blue?</p> +<p>Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing</p> + <p class="i1">Ever a child can do!</p> + +<p class="s">Up in the air and over the wall,</p> + <p class="i1">Till I can see so wide,</p> +<p>Rivers and trees and cattle and all</p> + <p class="i1">Over the countryside—</p> + +<p class="s">Till I look down on the garden green,</p> + <p class="i1">Down on the roof so brown—</p> +<p>Up in the air I go flying again,</p> + <p class="i1">Up in the air and down!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page23"></a>23</span></p> +<h5>XXXIV</h5> + +<h3>TIME TO RISE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">A birdie</span> with a yellow bill</p> +<p>Hopped upon the window sill,</p> +<p>Cocked his shining eye and said:</p> +<p>“Ain’t you ’shamed, you sleepy-head?”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXV</h5> + +<h3>LOOKING-GLASS RIVER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Smooth</span> it slides upon its travel,</p> + <p class="i1">Here a wimple, there a gleam—</p> + <p class="i3">O the clean gravel!</p> + <p class="i3">O the smooth stream!</p> + +<p class="s">Sailing blossoms, silver fishes,</p> + <p class="i1">Paven pools as clear as air—</p> + <p class="i3">How a child wishes</p> + <p class="i3">To live down there!</p> + +<p class="s">We can see our coloured faces</p> + <p class="i1">Floating on the shaken pool</p> + <p class="i3">Down in cool places,</p> + <p class="i3">Dim and very cool;</p> + +<p class="s">Till a wind or water wrinkle,</p> + <p class="i1">Dipping marten, plumping trout,</p> + <p class="i3">Spreads in a twinkle</p> + <p class="i3">And blots all out.</p> + +<p class="s">See the rings pursue each other;</p> + <p class="i1">All below grows black as night,</p> + <p class="i3">Just as if mother</p> + <p class="i3">Had blown out the light!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page24"></a>24</span></p> + +<p class="s">Patience, children, just a minute—</p> + <p class="i1">See the spreading circles die;</p> + <p class="i3">The stream and all in it</p> + <p class="i3">Will clear by-and-by.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVI</h5> + +<h3>FAIRY BREAD</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Come</span> up here, O dusty feet!</p> +<p>Here is fairy bread to eat.</p> +<p>Here in my retiring room,</p> + <p class="i1">Children, you may dine</p> +<p>On the golden smell of broom</p> + <p class="i1">And the shade of pine;</p> +<p>And when you have eaten well,</p> +<p>Fairy stories hear and tell.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVII</h5> + +<h3>FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Faster</span> than fairies, faster than witches,</p> +<p>Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;</p> +<p>And charging along like troops in a battle,</p> +<p>All through the meadows the horses and cattle:</p> +<p>All of the sights of the hill and the plain</p> +<p>Fly as thick as driving rain;</p> +<p>And ever again, in the wink of an eye,</p> +<p>Painted stations whistle by.</p> +<p>Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,</p> +<p>All by himself and gathering brambles;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page25"></a>25</span></p> +<p>Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;</p> +<p>And there is the green for stringing the daisies!</p> +<p>Here is a cart run away in the road</p> +<p>Lumping along with man and load;</p> +<p>And here is a mill, and there is a river:</p> +<p>Each a glimpse and gone for ever!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVIII</h5> + +<h3>WINTER-TIME</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Late</span> lies the wintry sun a-bed,</p> +<p>A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;</p> +<p>Blinks but an hour or two; and then,</p> +<p>A blood-red orange, sets again.</p> + +<p class="s">Before the stars have left the skies,</p> +<p>At morning in the dark I rise;</p> +<p>And shivering in my nakedness,</p> +<p>By the cold candle, bathe and dress.</p> + +<p class="s">Close by the jolly fire I sit</p> +<p>To warm my frozen bones a bit;</p> +<p>Or with a reindeer-sled explore</p> +<p>The colder countries round the door.</p> + +<p class="s">When, to go out, my nurse doth wrap</p> +<p>Me in my comforter and cap,</p> +<p>The cold wind burns my face, and blows</p> +<p>Its frosty pepper up my nose.</p> + +<p class="s">Black are my steps on silver sod;</p> +<p>Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;</p> +<p>And tree and house, and hill and lake,</p> +<p>Are frosted like a wedding-cake.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page26"></a>26</span></p> +<h5>XXXIX</h5> + +<h3>THE HAYLOFT</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Through</span> all the pleasant meadow-side</p> + <p class="i1">The grass grew shoulder-high,</p> +<p>Till the shining scythes went far and wide</p> + <p class="i1">And cut it down to dry.</p> + +<p class="s">These green and sweetly smelling crops</p> + <p class="i1">They led in waggons home;</p> +<p>And they piled them here in mountain tops</p> + <p class="i1">For mountaineers to roam.</p> + +<p class="s">Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail,</p> + <p class="i1">Mount Eagle and Mount High;—</p> +<p>The mice that in these mountains dwell</p> + <p class="i1">No happier are than I!</p> + +<p class="s">O what a joy to clamber there,</p> + <p class="i1">O what a place for play,</p> +<p>With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air,</p> + <p class="i1">The happy hills of hay.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XL</h5> + +<h3>FAREWELL TO THE FARM</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> coach is at the door at last;</p> +<p>The eager children, mounting fast</p> +<p>And kissing hands, in chorus sing:</p> +<p>Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page27"></a>27</span></p> + +<p class="s">To house and garden, field and lawn,</p> +<p>The meadow-gates we swang upon,</p> +<p>To pump and stable, tree and swing,</p> +<p>Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!</p> + +<p class="s">And fare you well for evermore,</p> +<p>O ladder at the hayloft door,</p> +<p>O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,</p> +<p>Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!</p> + +<p class="s">Crack goes the whip, and off we go;</p> +<p>The trees and houses smaller grow;</p> +<p>Last, round the woody turn we swing:</p> +<p>Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XLI</h5> + +<h3>NORTH-WEST PASSAGE</h3> + + +<h5>I. GOOD NIGHT</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> the bright lamp is carried in,</p> +<p>The sunless hours again begin;</p> +<p>O’er all without, in field and lane,</p> +<p>The haunted night returns again.</p> + +<p class="s">Now we behold the embers flee</p> +<p>About the firelit hearth; and see</p> +<p>Our faces painted as we pass,</p> +<p>Like pictures, on the window-glass.</p> + +<p class="s">Must we to bed indeed? Well then,</p> +<p>Let us arise and go like men,</p> +<p>And face with an undaunted tread</p> +<p>The long black passage up to bed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page28"></a>28</span></p> + +<p class="s">Farewell, O brother, sister, sire!</p> +<p>O pleasant party round the fire!</p> +<p>The songs you sing, the tales you tell,</p> +<p>Till far to-morrow, fare ye well!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>2. SHADOW MARCH</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p>All round the house is the jet-black night;</p> + <p class="i1">It stares through the window-pane;</p> +<p>It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,</p> + <p class="i1">And it moves with the moving flame.</p> + +<p class="s">Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,</p> + <p class="i1">With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;</p> +<p>And all round the candle the crooked shadows come</p> + <p class="i1">And go marching along up the stair.</p> + +<p class="s">The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,</p> + <p class="i1">The shadow of the child that goes to bed—</p> +<p>All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,</p> + <p class="i1">With the black night overhead.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>3. IN PORT</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p>Last, to the chamber where I lie</p> +<p>My fearful footsteps patter nigh,</p> +<p>And come from out the cold and gloom</p> +<p>Into my warm and cheerful room.</p> + +<p class="s">There, safe arrived, we turned about</p> +<p>To keep the coming shadows out,</p> +<p>And close the happy door at last</p> +<p>On all the perils that we passed.</p> + +<p class="s">Then, when mamma goes by to bed,</p> +<p>She shall come in with tip-toe tread,</p> +<p>And see me lying warm and fast</p> +<p>And in the land of Nod at last.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page29"></a>29</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>THE CHILD ALONE</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page30"></a>30</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page31"></a>31</span></p> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> children are playing alone on the green,</p> +<p>In comes the playmate that never was seen.</p> +<p>When children are happy and lonely and good,</p> +<p>The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.</p> + +<p class="s">Nobody heard him and nobody saw,</p> +<p>His is a picture you never could draw,</p> +<p>But he’s sure to be present, abroad or at home,</p> +<p>When children are happy and playing alone.</p> + +<p class="s">He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,</p> +<p>He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;</p> +<p>Whene’er you are happy and cannot tell why,</p> +<p>The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!</p> + +<p class="s">He loves to be little, he hates to be big,</p> +<p>’Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig;</p> +<p>’Tis he when you play with your soldiers of tin</p> +<p>That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.</p> + +<p class="s">’Tis he, when at night you go off to your bed,</p> +<p>Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your head;</p> +<p>For wherever they’re lying, in cupboard or shelf,</p> +<p>’Tis he will take care of your playthings himself!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page32"></a>32</span></p> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>MY SHIP AND I</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">O it’s</span> I that am the captain of a tidy little ship,</p> + <p class="i1">Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond;</p> +<p>And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all about;</p> +<p>But when I’m a little older, I shall find the secret out</p> + <p class="i1">How to send my vessel sailing on beyond.</p> + +<p class="s">For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at the helm,</p> + <p class="i1">And the dolly I intend to come alive;</p> +<p>And with him beside to help me, it’s a-sailing I shall go,</p> +<p>It’s a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes blow</p> + <p class="i1">And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive.</p> + +<p class="s">O it’s then you’ll see me sailing through the rushes and the reeds,</p> + <p class="i1">And you’ll hear the water singing at the prow;</p> +<p>For beside the dolly sailor, I’m to voyage and explore,</p> +<p>To land upon the island where no dolly was before,</p> + <p class="i1">And to fire the penny cannon in the bow.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>MY KINGDOM</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Down</span> by a shining water well</p> +<p>I found a very little dell,</p> + <p class="i1">No higher than my head.</p> +<p>The heather and the gorse about</p> +<p>In summer bloom were coming out,</p> + <p class="i1">Some yellow and some red.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page33"></a>33</span></p> + +<p class="s">I called the little pool a sea;</p> +<p>The little hills were big to me;</p> + <p class="i1">For I am very small.</p> +<p>I made a boat, I made a town,</p> +<p>I searched the caverns up and down,</p> + <p class="i1">And named them one and all.</p> + +<p class="s">And all about was mine, I said,</p> +<p>The little sparrows overhead,</p> + <p class="i1">The little minnows too.</p> +<p>This was the world, and I was king;</p> +<p>For me the bees came by to sing,</p> + <p class="i1">For me the swallows flew.</p> + +<p class="s">I played there were no deeper seas,</p> +<p>Nor any wider plains than these,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor other kings than me.</p> +<p>At last I heard my mother call</p> +<p>Out from the house at even-fall,</p> + <p class="i1">To call me home to tea.</p> + +<p class="s">And I must rise and leave my dell,</p> +<p>And leave my dimpled water well,</p> + <p class="i1">And leave my heather blooms.</p> +<p>Alas! and as my home I neared,</p> +<p>How very big my nurse appeared,</p> + <p class="i1">How great and cool the rooms!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<h3>PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Summer</span> fading, winter comes—</p> +<p>Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,</p> +<p>Window robins, winter rooks,</p> +<p>And the picture story-books.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page34"></a>34</span></p> + +<p class="s">Water now is turned to stone</p> +<p>Nurse and I can walk upon;</p> +<p>Still we find the flowing brooks</p> +<p>In the picture story-books.</p> + +<p class="s">All the pretty things put by</p> +<p>Wait upon the children’s eye,</p> +<p>Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,</p> +<p>In the picture story-books.</p> + +<p class="s">We may see how all things are,</p> +<p>Seas and cities, near and far,</p> +<p>And the flying fairies’ looks,</p> +<p>In the picture story-books.</p> + +<p class="s">How am I to sing your praise,</p> +<p>Happy chimney-corner days,</p> +<p>Sitting safe in nursery nooks,</p> +<p>Reading picture story-books?</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>V</h5> + +<h3>MY TREASURES</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">These</span> nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest</p> +<p>Where all my lead soldiers are lying at rest,</p> +<p>Were gathered in autumn by nursie and me</p> +<p>In a wood with a well by the side of the sea.</p> + +<p class="s">This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds!)</p> +<p>By the side of a field at the end of the grounds.</p> +<p>Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my own,</p> +<p>It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page35"></a>35</span></p> + +<p class="s">The stone, with the white and the yellow and grey,</p> +<p>We discovered I cannot tell <i>how</i> far away;</p> +<p>And I carried it back, although weary and cold,</p> +<p>For, though father denies it, I’m sure it is gold.</p> + +<p class="s">But of all of my treasures the last is the king,</p> +<p>For there’s very few children possess such a thing;</p> +<p>And that is a chisel, both handle and blade,</p> +<p>Which a man who was really a carpenter made.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<h3>BLOCK CITY</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">What</span> are you able to build with your blocks?</p> +<p>Castles and palaces, temples and docks.</p> +<p>Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,</p> +<p>But I can be happy and building at home.</p> + +<p class="s">Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea,</p> +<p>There I’ll establish a city for me:</p> +<p>A kirk and a mill and a palace beside,</p> +<p>And a harbour as well where my vessels may ride.</p> + +<p class="s">Great is the palace with pillar and wall,</p> +<p>A sort of a tower on the top of it all,</p> +<p>And steps coming down in an orderly way</p> +<p>To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay.</p> + +<p class="s">This one is sailing and that one is moored:</p> +<p>Hark to the song of the sailors on board!</p> +<p>And see, on the steps of my palace, the kings</p> +<p>Coming and going with presents and things!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page36"></a>36</span></p> + +<p class="s">Now I have done with it, down let it go!</p> +<p>All in a moment the town is laid low.</p> +<p>Block upon block lying scattered and free,</p> +<p>What is there left of my town by the sea?</p> + +<p class="s">Yet, as I saw it, I see it again,</p> +<p>The kirk and the palace, the ships and the men,</p> +<p>And as long as I live, and where’er I may be,</p> +<p>I’ll always remember my town by the sea.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<h3>THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">At</span> evening when the lamp is lit,</p> +<p>Around the fire my parents sit;</p> +<p>They sit at home and talk and sing,</p> +<p>And do not play at anything.</p> + +<p class="s">Now, with my little gun, I crawl</p> +<p>All in the dark along the wall,</p> +<p>And follow round the forest track</p> +<p>Away behind the sofa back.</p> + +<p class="s">There, in the night, where none can spy,</p> +<p>All in my hunter’s camp I lie,</p> +<p>And play at books that I have read</p> +<p>Till it is time to go to bed.</p> + +<p class="s">These are the hills, these are the woods,</p> +<p>These are my starry solitudes;</p> +<p>And there the river by whose brink</p> +<p>The roaring lions come to drink.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page37"></a>37</span></p> + +<p class="s">I see the others far away</p> +<p>As if in firelit camp they lay,</p> +<p>And I, like to an Indian scout,</p> +<p>Around their party prowled about</p> + +<p class="s">So, when my nurse comes in for me,</p> +<p>Home I return across the sea,</p> +<p>And go to bed with backward looks</p> +<p>At my dear land of Story-books.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<h3>ARMIES IN THE FIRE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> lamps now glitter down the street;</p> +<p>Faintly sound the falling feet;</p> +<p>And the blue even slowly falls</p> +<p>About the garden trees and walls.</p> + +<p class="s">Now in the falling of the gloom</p> +<p>The red fire paints the empty room:</p> +<p>And warmly on the roof it looks,</p> +<p>And flickers on the backs of books.</p> + +<p class="s">Armies march by tower and spire</p> +<p>Of cities blazing, in the fire;—</p> +<p>Till as I gaze with staring eyes,</p> +<p>The armies fade, the lustre dies.</p> + +<p class="s">Then once again the glow returns;</p> +<p>Again the phantom city burns;</p> +<p>And down the red-hot valley, lo!</p> +<p>The phantom armies marching go!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page38"></a>38</span></p> + +<p class="s">Blinking embers, tell me true</p> +<p>Where are those armies marching to,</p> +<p>And what the burning city is</p> +<p>That crumbles in your furnaces!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<h3>THE LITTLE LAND</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> at home alone I sit</p> +<p>And am very tired of it,</p> +<p>I have just to shut my eyes</p> +<p>To go sailing through the skies—</p> +<p>To go sailing far away</p> +<p>To the pleasant Land of Play;</p> +<p>To the fairy land afar</p> +<p>Where the Little People are;</p> +<p>Where the clover-tops are trees,</p> +<p>And the rain-pools are the seas,</p> +<p>And the leaves like little ships</p> +<p>Sail about on tiny trips;</p> +<p>And above the daisy tree</p> + <p class="i2">Through the grasses,</p> +<p>High o’erhead the Bumble Bee</p> + <p class="i2">Hums and passes.</p> + +<p class="s">In that forest to and fro</p> +<p>I can wander, I can go;</p> +<p>See the spider and the fly,</p> +<p>And the ants go marching by</p> +<p>Carrying parcels with their feet</p> +<p>Down the green and grassy street.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page39"></a>39</span></p> +<p>I can in the sorrel sit</p> +<p>Where the ladybird alit.</p> +<p>I can climb the jointed grass;</p> + <p class="i2">And on high</p> +<p>See the greater swallows pass</p> + <p class="i2">In the sky,</p> +<p>And the round sun rolling by</p> +<p>Heeding no such things as I.</p> + +<p class="s">Through that forest I can pass</p> +<p>Till, as in a looking-glass,</p> +<p>Humming fly and daisy tree</p> +<p>And my tiny self I see</p> +<p>Painted very clear and neat</p> +<p>On the rain-pool at my feet.</p> +<p>Should a leaflet come to land</p> +<p>Drifting near to where I stand,</p> +<p>Straight I’ll board that tiny boat</p> +<p>Round the rain-pool sea to float.</p> + +<p class="s">Little thoughtful creatures sit</p> +<p>On the grassy coasts of it;</p> +<p>Little things with lovely eyes</p> +<p>See me sailing with surprise.</p> +<p>Some are clad in armour green—</p> +<p>(These have sure to battle been!)—</p> +<p>Some are pied with ev’ry hue,</p> +<p>Black and crimson, gold and blue;</p> +<p>Some have wings and swift are gone;—</p> +<p>But they all look kindly on.</p> + +<p class="s">When my eyes I once again</p> +<p>Open and see all things plain;</p> +<p>High bare walls, great bare floor;</p> +<p>Great big knobs on drawer and door;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page40"></a>40</span></p> +<p>Great big people perched on chairs,</p> +<p>Stitching tucks and mending tears,</p> +<p>Each a hill that I could climb,</p> +<p>And talking nonsense all the time—</p> + <p class="i2">O dear me,</p> + <p class="i2">That I could be</p> +<p>A sailor on the rain-pool sea,</p> +<p>A climber in the clover-tree,</p> +<p>And just come back, a sleepy-head,</p> +<p>Late at night to go to bed.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page41"></a>41</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>GARDEN DAYS</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page42"></a>42</span></p> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page43"></a>43</span></p> + + + + +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>NIGHT AND DAY</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> the golden day is done,</p> + <p class="i1">Through the closing portal,</p> +<p>Child and garden, flower and sun,</p> + <p class="i1">Vanish all things mortal.</p> + +<p class="s">As the blinding shadows fall,</p> + <p class="i1">As the rays diminish,</p> +<p>Under evening’s cloak, they all</p> + <p class="i1">Roll away and vanish.</p> + +<p class="s">Garden darkened, daisy shut,</p> + <p class="i1">Child in bed, they slumber—</p> +<p>Glow-worm in the highway rut,</p> + <p class="i1">Mice among the lumber.</p> + +<p class="s">In the darkness houses shine,</p> + <p class="i1">Parents move with candles;</p> +<p>Till on all the night divine</p> + <p class="i1">Turns the bedroom handles.</p> + +<p class="s">Till at last the day begins</p> + <p class="i1">In the east a-breaking,</p> +<p>In the hedges and the whins</p> + <p class="i1">Sleeping birds a-waking.</p> + +<p class="s">In the darkness shapes of things,</p> + <p class="i1">Houses, trees, and hedges,</p> +<p>Clearer grow; and sparrows’ wings</p> + <p class="i1">Beat on window ledges.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page44"></a>44</span></p> + +<p class="s">These shall wake the yawning maid;</p> + <p class="i1">She the door shall open—</p> +<p>Finding dew on garden glade</p> + <p class="i1">And the morning broken.</p> + +<p class="s">There my garden grows again</p> + <p class="i1">Green and rosy painted,</p> +<p>As at eve behind the pane</p> + <p class="i1">From my eyes it fainted.</p> + +<p class="s">Just as it was shut away,</p> + <p class="i1">Toy-like, in the even,</p> +<p>Here I see it glow with day</p> + <p class="i1">Under glowing heaven.</p> + +<p class="s">Every path and every plot,</p> + <p class="i1">Every bush of roses,</p> +<p>Every blue forget-me-not</p> + <p class="i1">Where the dew reposes,</p> + +<p class="s">“Up!” they cry, “the day is come</p> + <p class="i1">On the smiling valleys:</p> +<p>We have beat the morning drum;</p> + <p class="i1">Playmate, join your allies!”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>NEST EGGS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Birds</span> all the sunny day</p> + <p class="i1">Flutter and quarrel,</p> +<p>Here in the arbour-like</p> + <p class="i1">Tent of the laurel.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page45"></a>45</span></p> + +<p class="s">Here in the fork</p> + <p class="i1">The brown nest is seated;</p> +<p>Four little blue eggs</p> + <p class="i1">The mother keeps heated.</p> + +<p class="s">While we stand watching her,</p> + <p class="i1">Staring like gabies,</p> +<p>Safe in each egg are the</p> + <p class="i1">Bird’s little babies.</p> + +<p class="s">Soon the frail eggs they shall</p> + <p class="i1">Chip, and upspringing</p> +<p>Make all the April woods</p> + <p class="i1">Merry with singing.</p> + +<p class="s">Younger than we are,</p> + <p class="i1">O children, and frailer,</p> +<p>Soon in blue air they’ll be,</p> + <p class="i1">Singer and sailor.</p> + +<p class="s">We, so much older,</p> + <p class="i1">Taller and stronger,</p> +<p>We shall look down on the</p> + <p class="i1">Birdies no longer.</p> + +<p class="s">They shall go flying</p> + <p class="i1">With musical speeches</p> +<p>High overhead in the</p> + <p class="i1">Tops of the beeches.</p> + +<p class="s">In spite of our wisdom</p> + <p class="i1">And sensible talking,</p> +<p>We on our feet must go</p> + <p class="i1">Plodding and walking.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page46"></a>46</span></p> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>THE FLOWERS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">All</span> the names I know from nurse:</p> +<p>Gardener’s garters, Shepherd’s purse,</p> +<p>Bachelor’s buttons, Lady’s smock,</p> +<p>And the Lady Hollyhock.</p> + +<p class="s">Fairy places, fairy things,</p> +<p>Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,</p> +<p>Tiny trees for tiny dames—</p> +<p>These must all be fairy names!</p> + +<p class="s">Tiny woods below whose boughs</p> +<p>Shady fairies weave a house;</p> +<p>Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,</p> +<p>Where the braver fairies climb!</p> + +<p class="s">Fair are grown-up people’s trees,</p> +<p>But the fairest woods are these;</p> +<p>Where if I were not so tall,</p> +<p>I should live for good and all.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<h3>SUMMER SUN</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Great</span> is the sun, and wide he goes</p> +<p>Through empty heaven without repose;</p> +<p>And in the blue and glowing days</p> +<p>More thick than rain he showers his rays.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page47"></a>47</span></p> + +<p class="s">Though closer still the blinds we pull</p> +<p>To keep the shady parlour cool,</p> +<p>Yet he will find a chink or two</p> +<p>To slip his golden fingers through.</p> + +<p class="s">The dusty attic, spider-clad,</p> +<p>He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;</p> +<p>And through the broken edge of tiles</p> +<p>Into the laddered hayloft smiles.</p> + +<p class="s">Meantime his golden face around</p> +<p>He bares to all the garden ground,</p> +<p>And sheds a warm and glittering look</p> +<p>Among the ivy’s inmost nook.</p> + +<p class="s">Above the hills, along the blue,</p> +<p>Round the bright air with footing true,</p> +<p>To please the child, to paint the rose,</p> +<p>The gardener of the World, he goes.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>V</h5> + +<h3>THE DUMB SOLDIER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> the grass was closely mown,</p> +<p>Walking on the lawn alone,</p> +<p>In the turf a hole I found</p> +<p>And hid a soldier underground.</p> + +<p class="s">Spring and daisies came apace;</p> +<p>Grasses hide my hiding-place;</p> +<p>Grasses run like a green sea</p> +<p>O’er the lawn up to my knee.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page48"></a>48</span></p> + +<p class="s">Under grass alone he lies,</p> +<p>Looking up with leaden eyes,</p> +<p>Scarlet coat and pointed gun,</p> +<p>To the stars and to the sun.</p> + +<p class="s">When the grass is ripe like grain,</p> +<p>When the scythe is stoned again,</p> +<p>When the lawn is shaven clear,</p> +<p>Then my hole shall reappear.</p> + +<p class="s">I shall find him, never fear,</p> +<p>I shall find my grenadier;</p> +<p>But, for all that’s gone and come,</p> +<p>I shall find my soldier dumb.</p> + +<p class="s">He has lived, a little thing,</p> +<p>In the grassy woods of spring;</p> +<p>Done, if he could tell me true,</p> +<p>Just as I should like to do.</p> + +<p class="s">He has seen the starry hours</p> +<p>And the springing of the flowers;</p> +<p>And the fairy things that pass</p> +<p>In the forests of the grass.</p> + +<p class="s">In the silence he has heard</p> +<p>Talking bee and ladybird,</p> +<p>And the butterfly has flown</p> +<p>O’er him as he lay alone.</p> + +<p class="s">Not a word will he disclose,</p> +<p>Not a word of all he knows.</p> +<p>I must lay him on the shelf,</p> +<p>And make up the tale myself.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page49"></a>49</span></p> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<h3>AUTUMN FIRES</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> the other gardens</p> + <p class="i1">And all up the vale,</p> +<p>From the autumn bonfires</p> + <p class="i1">See the smoke trail!</p> + +<p class="s">Pleasant summer over,</p> + <p class="i1">And all the summer flowers,</p> +<p>The red fire blazes,</p> + <p class="i1">The grey smoke towers.</p> + +<p class="s">Sing a song of seasons!</p> + <p class="i1">Something bright in all!</p> +<p>Flowers in the summer,</p> + <p class="i1">Fires in the fall!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<h3>THE GARDENER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> gardener does not love to talk,</p> +<p>He makes me keep the gravel walk;</p> +<p>And when he puts his tools away,</p> +<p>He locks the door and takes the key.</p> + +<p class="s">Away behind the currant row</p> +<p>Where no one else but cook may go,</p> +<p>Far in the plots, I see him dig,</p> +<p>Old and serious, brown and big.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page50"></a>50</span></p> + +<p class="s">He digs the flowers, green, red, and blue,</p> +<p>Nor wishes to be spoken to.</p> +<p>He digs the flowers and cuts the hay,</p> +<p>And never seems to want to play.</p> + +<p class="s">Silly gardener! summer goes,</p> +<p>And winter comes with pinching toes,</p> +<p>When in the garden bare and brown</p> +<p>You must lay your barrow down.</p> + +<p class="s">Well now, and while the summer stays,</p> +<p>To profit by these garden days,</p> +<p>O how much wiser you would be</p> +<p>To play at Indian wars with me!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<h3>HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear</span> Uncle Jim, this garden ground,</p> +<p>That now you smoke your pipe around,</p> +<p>Has seen immortal actions done</p> +<p>And valiant battles lost and won.</p> + +<p class="s">Here we had best on tip-toe tread,</p> +<p>While I for safety march ahead,</p> +<p>For this is that enchanted ground</p> +<p>Where all who loiter slumber sound.</p> + +<p class="s">Here is the sea, here is the sand,</p> +<p>Here is simple Shepherd’s Land,</p> +<p>Here are the fairy hollyhocks,</p> +<p>And there are Ali Baba’s rocks.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page51"></a>51</span></p> + +<p class="s">But yonder, see! apart and high,</p> +<p>Frozen Siberia lies; where I,</p> +<p>With Robert Bruce and William Tell,</p> +<p>Was bound by an enchanter’s spell.</p> + +<p class="s">There, then, a while in chains we lay,</p> +<p>In wintry dungeons, far from day;</p> +<p>But ris’n at length, with might and main,</p> +<p>Our iron fetters burst in twain.</p> + +<p class="s">Then all the horns were blown in town;</p> +<p>And, to the ramparts clanging down,</p> +<p>All the giants leaped to horse</p> +<p>And charged behind us through the gorse.</p> + +<p class="s">On we rode, the others and I,</p> +<p>Over the mountains blue, and by</p> +<p>The Silver River, the sounding sea,</p> +<p>And the robber woods of Tartary.</p> + +<p class="s">A thousand miles we galloped fast,</p> +<p>And down the witches’ lane we passed,</p> +<p>And rode amain, with brandished sword,</p> +<p>Up to the middle, through the ford.</p> + +<p class="s">Last we drew rein—a weary three—</p> +<p>Upon the lawn, in time for tea,</p> +<p>And from our steeds alighted down</p> +<p>Before the gates of Babylon.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page52"></a>52</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page53"></a>53</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>ENVOYS</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page54"></a>54</span></p> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page55"></a>55</span></p> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>TO WILLIE AND HENRIETTA</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + + <p class="i15"><span class="sc">If</span> two may read aright</p> + <p class="i15">These rhymes of old delight</p> + <p class="i15">And house and garden play,</p> +<p>You two, my cousins, and you only, may.</p> + +<p class="s i15">You in a garden green</p> + <p class="i15">With me were king and queen,</p> + <p class="i15">Were hunter, soldier, tar,</p> +<p>And all the thousand things that children are.</p> + +<p class="s i15">Now in the elders’ seat</p> + <p class="i15">We rest with quiet feet,</p> + <p class="i15">And from the window-bay</p> +<p>We watch the children, our successors, play.</p> + +<p class="s i15">“Time was,” the golden head</p> + <p class="i15">Irrevocably said;</p> + <p class="i15">But time which none can bind,</p> +<p>While flowing fast away, leaves love behind.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>TO MY MOTHER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">You</span> too, my mother, read my rhymes</p> +<p>For love of unforgotten times,</p> +<p>And you may chance to hear once more</p> +<p>The little feet along the floor.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page56"></a>56</span></p> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>TO AUNTIE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><i>Chief of our aunts</i>—not only I,</p> +<p>But all your dozen of nurslings cry—</p> +<p><i>What did the other children do?</i></p> +<p><i>And what were childhood, wanting you?</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<h3>TO MINNIE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> red room with the giant bed</p> +<p>Where none but elders lay their head;</p> +<p>The little room where you and I</p> +<p>Did for a while together lie,</p> +<p>And, simple suitor, I your hand</p> +<p>In decent marriage did demand;</p> +<p>The great day-nursery, best of all,</p> +<p>With pictures pasted on the wall</p> +<p>And leaves upon the blind—</p> +<p>A pleasant room wherein to wake</p> +<p>And hear the leafy garden shake</p> +<p>And rustle in the wind—</p> +<p>And pleasant there to lie in bed</p> +<p>And see the pictures overhead—</p> +<p>The wars about Sebastopol,</p> +<p>The grinning guns along the wall,</p> +<p>The daring escalade,</p> +<p>The plunging ships, the bleating sheep,</p> +<p>The happy children ankle-deep,</p> +<p>And laughing as they wade:</p> +<p>All these are vanished clean away,</p> +<p>And the old manse is changed to-day;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page57"></a>57</span></p> +<p>It wears an altered face</p> +<p>And shields a stranger race.</p> +<p>The river, on from mill to mill,</p> +<p>Flows past our childhood’s garden still;</p> +<p>But ah! we children never more</p> +<p>Shall watch it from the water-door!</p> +<p>Below the yew—it still is there—</p> +<p>Our phantom voices haunt the air</p> +<p>As we were still at play,</p> +<p>And I can hear them call and say:</p> +<p>“<i>How far is it to Babylon?</i>”</p> + +<p class="s">Ah, far enough, my dear,</p> +<p>Far, far enough from here—</p> +<p>Yet you have farther gone!</p> +<p>“<i>Can I get there by candlelight?</i>”</p> +<p>So goes the old refrain.</p> +<p>I do not know—perchance you might—</p> +<p>But only, children, hear it right,</p> +<p>Ah, never to return again!</p> +<p>The eternal dawn, beyond a doubt,</p> +<p>Shall break on hill and plain,</p> +<p>And put all stars and candles out,</p> +<p>Ere we be young again.</p> + +<p class="s">To you in distant India, these</p> +<p>I send across the seas,</p> +<p>Nor count it far across.</p> +<p>For which of us forgets</p> +<p>The Indian cabinets,</p> +<p>The bones of antelope, the wings of albatross,</p> +<p>The pied and painted birds and beans,</p> +<p>The junks and bangles, beads and screens,</p> +<p>The gods and sacred bells,</p> +<p>And the loud-humming, twisted shells?</p> +<p>The level of the parlour floor</p> +<p>Was honest, homely, Scottish shore;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page58"></a>58</span></p> +<p>But when we climbed upon a chair,</p> +<p>Behold the gorgeous East was there!</p> +<p>Be this a fable; and behold</p> +<p>Me in the parlour as of old,</p> +<p>And Minnie just above me set</p> +<p>In the quaint Indian cabinet!</p> +<p>Smiling and kind, you grace a shelf</p> +<p>Too high for me to reach myself.</p> +<p>Reach down a hand, my dear, and take</p> +<p>These rhymes for old acquaintance’ sake.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>V</h5> + +<h3>TO MY NAME-CHILD</h3> + + +<h5>1</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Some</span> day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed,</p> +<p>Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read.</p> +<p>Then shall you discover that your name was printed down</p> +<p>By the English printers, long before, in London town.</p> + +<p class="s">In the great and busy city where the East and West are met,</p> +<p>All the little letters did the English printer set;</p> +<p>While you thought of nothing, and were still too young to play,</p> +<p>Foreign people thought of you in places far away.</p> + +<p class="s">Ay, and while you slept, a baby, over all the English lands</p> +<p>Other little children took the volume in their hands;</p> +<p>Other children questioned, in their homes across the seas:</p> +<p>Who was little Louis, won’t you tell us, mother, please?</p> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page59"></a>59</span></p> +<h5>2</h5> + +<p>Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it down and go and play,</p> +<p>Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of Monterey,</p> +<p>Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying buried by the breeze,</p> +<p>Tiny sandy-pipers, and the huge Pacific seas.</p> + +<p class="s">And remember in your playing, as the sea-fog rolls to you,</p> +<p>Long ere you could read it, how I told you what to do;</p> +<p>And that while you thought of no one, nearly half the world away</p> +<p>Some one thought of Louis on the beach of Monterey!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<h3>TO ANY READER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">As</span> from the house your mother sees</p> +<p>You playing round the garden trees,</p> +<p>So you may see, if you will look</p> +<p>Through the windows of this book,</p> +<p>Another child, far, far away,</p> +<p>And in another garden, play.</p> +<p>But do not think you can at all,</p> +<p>By knocking on the window, call</p> +<p>That child to hear you. He intent</p> +<p>Is all on his play-business bent.</p> +<p>He does not hear; he will not look,</p> +<p>Not yet be lured out of this book.</p> +<p>For, long ago, the truth to say,</p> +<p>He has grown up and gone away,</p> +<p>And it is but a child of air</p> +<p>That lingers in the garden there.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page60"></a>60</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page61"></a>61</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>UNDERWOODS</h2> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr f80"> + +<p><i>Of all my verse, like not a single line;</i></p> +<p><i>But like my title, for it is not mine.</i></p> +<p><i>That title from a better man I stole;</i></p> +<p><i>Ah, how much better, had I stol’n the whole!</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page62"></a>62</span></p> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page63"></a>63</span></p> +<h3><i>DEDICATION</i></h3> + + +<p><i>There are men and classes of men that stand above the common +herd: the soldier, the sailor, and the shepherd not unfrequently; +the artist rarely; rarelier still, the clergyman; the +physician almost as a rule. He is the flower (such as it is) +of our civilisation; and when that stage of man is done with, +and only remembered to be marvelled at in history, he will +be thought to have shared as little as any in the defects of the +period, and most notably exhibited the virtues of the race. +Generosity he has, such as is possible to those who practise +an art, never to those who drive a trade; discretion, tested +by a hundred secrets; tact, tried in a thousand embarrassments; +and, what are more important, Heraclean cheerfulness +and courage. So it is that he brings air and cheer into the +sickroom, and often enough, though not so often as he wishes, +brings healing.</i></p> + +<p><i>Gratitude is but a lame sentiment; thanks, when they are +expressed, are often more embarrassing than welcome; +and yet I must set forth mine to a few out of many doctors who +have brought me comfort and help: to </i>Dr. Willey<i> of San +Francisco, whose kindness to a stranger it must be as grateful +to him, as it is touching to me, to remember; to </i>Dr. Karl +Ruedi<i> of Davos, the good genius of the English in his frosty +mountains; to </i>Dr. Herbert<i> of Paris, whom I knew only +for a week, and to </i>Dr. Caissot<i> of Montpellier, whom I knew +only for ten days, and who have yet written their names +deeply in my memory; to </i>Dr. Brandt<i> of Royat; to </i>Dr. +Wakefield<i> of Nice; to </i>Dr. Chepmell<i>, whose visits make it +a pleasure to be ill; to </i>Dr. Horace Dobell<i>, so wise in counsel; +to </i>Sir Andrew Clark<i>, so unwearied in kindness; and to that +wise youth, my uncle, </i>Dr. Balfour<i>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page64"></a>64</span></p> + +<p><i>I forget as many as I remember; and I ask both to pardon +me, these for silence, those for inadequate speech. But one +name I have kept on purpose to the last, because it is a household +word with me, and because if I had not received favours +from so many hands and in so many quarters of the world, it +should have stood upon this page alone: that of my friend +</i>Thomas Bodley Scott<i> of Bournemouth. Will he accept +this, although shared among so many, for a dedication to himself? +and when next my ill-fortune (which has thus its +pleasant side) brings him hurrying to me when he would +fain sit down to meat or lie down to rest, will he care to +remember that he takes this trouble for one who is not fool +enough to be ungrateful?</i></p> + +<p class="sign"><i>R. L. S.</i></p> + +<p><i>Skerryvore,</i></p> +<p style="padding-left: 2em;"><i>Bournemouth.</i></p> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page65"></a>65</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>BOOK I</h3> + +<h3>IN ENGLISH</h3> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page66"></a>66</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page67"></a>67</span></p> +<h2>UNDERWOODS</h2> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>ENVOY</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Go</span>, little book, and wish to all</p> +<p>Flowers in the garden, meat in the hall,</p> +<p>A bin of wine, a spice of wit,</p> +<p>A house with lawns enclosing it,</p> +<p>A living river by the door,</p> +<p>A nightingale in the sycamore!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>A SONG OF THE ROAD</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> gauger walked with willing foot,</p> +<p>And aye the gauger played the flute;</p> +<p>And what should Master Gauger play</p> +<p>But <i>Over the hills and far away</i>?</p> + +<p class="s">Whene’er I buckle on my pack</p> +<p>And foot it gaily in the track,</p> +<p>O pleasant gauger, long since dead,</p> +<p>I hear you fluting on ahead.</p> + +<p class="s">You go with me the selfsame way—</p> +<p>The selfsame air for me you play;</p> +<p>For I do think and so do you</p> +<p>It is the tune to travel to.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page68"></a>68</span></p> + +<p class="s">For who would gravely set his face</p> +<p>To go to this or t’other place?</p> +<p>There’s nothing under heav’n so blue</p> +<p>That’s fairly worth the travelling to.</p> + +<p class="s">On every hand the roads begin,</p> +<p>And people walk with zeal therein;</p> +<p>But wheresoe’er the highways tend,</p> +<p>Be sure there’s nothing at the end.</p> + +<p class="s">Then follow you, wherever hie</p> +<p>The travelling mountains of the sky.</p> +<p>Or let the streams in civil mode</p> +<p>Direct your choice upon a road;</p> + +<p class="s">For one and all, or high or low,</p> +<p>Will lead you where you wish to go;</p> +<p>And one and all go night and day</p> +<p><i>Over the hills and far away</i>!</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Forest of Montargis, 1878.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>THE CANOE SPEAKS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">On</span> the great streams the ships may go</p> +<p>About men’s business to and fro.</p> +<p>But I, the egg-shell pinnace, sleep</p> +<p>On crystal waters ankle-deep:</p> +<p>I, whose diminutive design,</p> +<p>Of sweeter cedar, pithier pine,</p> +<p>Is fashioned on so frail a mould,</p> +<p>A hand may launch, a hand withhold:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page69"></a>69</span></p> +<p>I, rather, with the leaping trout</p> +<p>Wind, among lilies, in and out;</p> +<p>I, the unnamed, inviolate,</p> +<p>Green, rustic rivers navigate;</p> +<p>My dipping paddle scarcely shakes</p> +<p>The berry in the bramble-brakes;</p> +<p>Still forth on my green way I wend</p> +<p>Beside the cottage garden-end;</p> +<p>And by the nested angler fare,</p> +<p>And take the lovers unaware.</p> +<p>By willow wood and water-wheel</p> +<p>Speedily fleets my touching keel;</p> +<p>By all retired and shady spots</p> +<p>Where prosper dim forget-me-nots;</p> +<p>By meadows where at afternoon</p> +<p>The growing maidens troop in June</p> +<p>To loose their girdles on the grass.</p> +<p>Ah! speedier than before the glass</p> +<p>The backward toilet goes; and swift</p> +<p>As swallows quiver, robe and shift</p> +<p>And the rough country stockings lie</p> +<p>Around each young divinity.</p> +<p>When, following the recondite brook,</p> +<p>Sudden upon this scene I look,</p> +<p>And light with unfamiliar face</p> +<p>On chaste Diana’s bathing-place,</p> +<p>Loud ring the hills about and all</p> +<p>The shallows are abandoned....</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page70"></a>70</span></p> +<h5>IV</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">It</span> is the season now to go</p> +<p>About the country high and low,</p> +<p>Among the lilacs hand in hand,</p> +<p>And two by two in fairyland.</p> + +<p class="s">The brooding boy, the sighing maid,</p> +<p>Wholly fain and half afraid,</p> +<p>Now meet along the hazel’d brook</p> +<p>To pass and linger, pause and look.</p> + +<p class="s">A year ago, and blithely paired,</p> +<p>Their rough-and-tumble play they shared;</p> +<p>They kissed and quarrelled, laughed and cried,</p> +<p>A year ago at Eastertide.</p> + +<p class="s">With bursting heart, with fiery face,</p> +<p>She strove against him in the race;</p> +<p>He unabashed her garter saw,</p> +<p>That now would touch her skirts with awe.</p> + +<p class="s">Now by the stile ablaze she stops,</p> +<p>And his demurer eyes he drops;</p> +<p>Now they exchange averted sighs</p> +<p>Or stand and marry silent eyes.</p> + +<p class="s">And he to her a hero is</p> +<p>And sweeter she than primroses;</p> +<p>Their common silence dearer far</p> +<p>Than nightingale and mavis are.</p> + +<p class="s">Now when they sever wedded hands,</p> +<p>Joy trembles in their bosom-strands</p> +<p>And lovely laughter leaps and falls</p> +<p>Upon their lips in madrigals.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page71"></a>71</span></p> +<h5>V</h5> + +<h3>THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><i>A naked house, a naked moor,</i></p> +<p><i>A shivering pool before the door,</i></p> +<p><i>A garden bare of flowers and fruit</i></p> +<p><i>And poplars at the garden foot:</i></p> +<p><i>Such is the place that I live in,</i></p> +<p><i>Bleak without and bare within.</i></p> + +<p class="s">Yet shall your ragged moor receive</p> +<p>The incomparable pomp of eve,</p> +<p>And the cold glories of the dawn</p> +<p>Behind your shivering trees be drawn;</p> +<p>And when the wind from place to place</p> +<p>Doth the unmoored cloud-galleons chase,</p> +<p>Your garden gloom and gleam again,</p> +<p>With leaping sun, with glancing rain.</p> +<p>Here shall the wizard moon ascend</p> +<p>The heavens, in the crimson end</p> +<p>Of day’s declining splendour; here</p> +<p>The army of the stars appear.</p> +<p>The neighbour hollows, dry or wet,</p> +<p>Spring shall with tender flowers beset;</p> +<p>And oft the morning muser see</p> +<p>Larks rising from the broomy lea,</p> +<p>And every fairy wheel and thread</p> +<p>Of cobweb, dew-bediamonded.</p> +<p>When daisies go, shall winter-time</p> +<p>Silver the simple grass with rime;</p> +<p>Autumnal frosts enchant the pool</p> +<p>And make the cart-ruts beautiful;</p> +<p>And when snow-bright the moor expands,</p> +<p>How shall your children clap their hands!</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page72"></a>72</span></p> +<p>To make this earth, our hermitage,</p> +<p>A cheerful and a changeful page,</p> +<p>God’s bright and intricate device</p> +<p>Of days and seasons doth suffice.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<h3>A VISIT FROM THE SEA</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Far</span> from the loud sea beaches</p> + <p class="i1">Where he goes fishing and crying,</p> +<p>Here in the inland garden</p> + <p class="i1">Why is the sea-gull flying?</p> + +<p class="s">Here are no fish to dive for;</p> + <p class="i1">Here is the corn and lea;</p> +<p>Here are the green trees rustling.</p> + <p class="i1">Hie away home to sea!</p> + +<p class="s">Fresh is the river water</p> + <p class="i1">And quiet among the rushes;</p> +<p>This is no home for the sea-gull,</p> + <p class="i1">But for the rooks and thrushes.</p> + +<p class="s">Pity the bird that has wandered!</p> + <p class="i1">Pity the sailor ashore!</p> +<p>Hurry him home to the ocean,</p> + <p class="i1">Let him come here no more!</p> + +<p class="s">High on the sea-cliff ledges</p> + <p class="i1">The white gulls are trooping and crying,</p> +<p>Here among rooks and roses,</p> + <p class="i1">Why is the sea-gull flying?</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page73"></a>73</span></p> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<h3>TO A GARDENER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Friend</span>, in my mountain-side demesne,</p> +<p>My plain-beholding, rosy, green</p> +<p>And linnet-haunted garden-ground,</p> +<p>Let still the esculents abound.</p> +<p>Let first the onion flourish there,</p> +<p>Rose among roots, the maiden-fair,</p> +<p>Wine-scented and poetic soul</p> +<p>Of the capacious salad-bowl.</p> +<p>Let thyme the mountaineer (to dress</p> +<p>The tinier birds) and wading cress,</p> +<p>The lover of the shallow brook,</p> +<p>From all my plots and borders look.</p> +<p>Nor crisp and ruddy radish, nor</p> +<p>Pease-cods for the child’s pinafore</p> +<p>Be lacking; nor of salad clan</p> +<p>The last and least that ever ran</p> +<p>About great nature’s garden-beds.</p> +<p>Nor thence be missed the speary heads</p> +<p>Of artichoke; nor thence the bean</p> +<p>That gathered innocent and green</p> +<p>Outsavours the belauded pea.</p> + +<p class="s">These tend, I prithee; and for me,</p> +<p>Thy most long-suffering master, bring</p> +<p>In April, when the linnets sing</p> +<p>And the days lengthen more and more,</p> +<p>At sundown to the garden door.</p> +<p>And I, being provided thus,</p> +<p>Shall, with superb asparagus,</p> +<p>A book, a taper, and a cup</p> +<p>Of country wine, divinely sup.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">La Solitude, Hyères.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page74"></a>74</span></p> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<h3>TO MINNIE</h3> + +<h6>(WITH A HAND-GLASS)</h6> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">A picture-frame</span> for you to fill,</p> + <p class="i1">A paltry setting for your face,</p> +<p>A thing that has no worth until</p> + <p class="i1">You lend it something of your grace,</p> + +<p class="s">I send (unhappy I that sing</p> + <p class="i1">Laid by a while upon the shelf)</p> +<p>Because I would not send a thing</p> + <p class="i1">Less charming than you are yourself.</p> + +<p class="s">And happier than I, alas!</p> + <p class="i1">(Dumb thing, I envy its delight)</p> +<p>’Twill wish you well, the looking-glass,</p> + <p class="i1">And look you in the face to-night.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi1">1869.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<h3><span class="sc">TO K. de M.</span></h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">A lover</span> of the moorland bare</p> +<p>And honest country winds you were;</p> +<p>The silver-skimming rain you took;</p> +<p>And love the floodings of the brook,</p> +<p>Dew, frost and mountains, fire and seas,</p> +<p>Tumultuary silences,</p> +<p>Winds that in darkness fifed a tune,</p> +<p>And the high-riding, virgin moon.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page75"></a>75</span></p> + +<p class="s">And as the berry, pale and sharp,</p> +<p>Springs on some ditch’s counterscarp</p> +<p>In our ungenial, native north—</p> +<p>You put your frosted wildings forth,</p> +<p>And on the heath, afar from man,</p> +<p>A strong and bitter virgin ran.</p> + +<p class="s">The berry ripened keeps the rude</p> +<p>And racy flavour of the wood.</p> +<p>And you that loved the empty plain</p> +<p>All redolent of wind and rain,</p> +<p>Around you still the curlew sings—</p> +<p>The freshness of the weather clings—</p> +<p>The maiden jewels of the rain</p> +<p>Sit in your dabbled locks again.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>X</h5> + +<h3><span class="sc">TO N. V. de G. S.</span></h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> unfathomable sea, and time, and tears,</p> +<p>The deeds of heroes and the crimes of kings</p> +<p>Dispart us; and the river of events</p> +<p>Has, for an age of years, to east and west</p> +<p>More widely borne our cradles. Thou to me</p> +<p>Art foreign, as when seamen at the dawn</p> +<p>Descry a land far off, and know not which.</p> +<p>So I approach uncertain; so I cruise</p> +<p>Round thy mysterious islet, and behold</p> +<p>Surf and great mountains and loud river-bars,</p> +<p>And from the shore hear inland voices call.</p> +<p>Strange is the seaman’s heart; he hopes, he fears;</p> +<p>Draws closer and sweeps wider from that coast;</p> +<p>Last, his rent sail refits, and to the deep</p> +<p>His shattered prow uncomforted puts back.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page76"></a>76</span></p> +<p>Yet as he goes he ponders at the helm</p> +<p>Of that bright island; where he feared to touch,</p> +<p>His spirit re-adventures; and for years,</p> +<p>Where by his wife he slumbers safe at home,</p> +<p>Thoughts of that land revisit him; he sees</p> +<p>The eternal mountains beckon, and awakes</p> +<p>Yearning for that far home that might have been.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XI</h5> + +<h3>TO WILL. H. LOW</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Youth</span> now flees on feathered foot,</p> +<p>Faint and fainter sounds the flute,</p> +<p>Rarer songs of gods; and still</p> +<p>Somewhere on the sunny hill,</p> +<p>Or along the winding stream,</p> +<p>Through the willows, flits a dream;</p> +<p>Flits but shows a smiling face,</p> +<p>Flees, but with so quaint a grace,</p> +<p>None can choose to stay at home,</p> +<p>All must follow, all must roam.</p> + +<p class="s">This is unborn beauty: she</p> +<p>Now in air floats high and free.</p> +<p>Takes the sun and makes the blue;—</p> +<p>Late with stooping pinion flew</p> +<p>Raking hedgerow trees, and wet</p> +<p>Her wing in silver streams, and set</p> +<p>Shining foot on temple roof:</p> +<p>Now again she flies aloof,</p> +<p>Coasting mountain clouds and kiss’t</p> +<p>By the evening’s amethyst.</p> +<p>In wet wood and miry lane,</p> +<p>Still we pant and pound in vain;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page77"></a>77</span></p> +<p>Still with leaden foot we chase</p> +<p>Waning pinion, fainting face;</p> +<p>Still with grey hair we stumble on,</p> +<p>Till, behold, the vision gone!</p> +<p>Where hath fleeting beauty led?</p> +<p>To the doorway of the dead.</p> +<p>Life is over, life was gay:</p> +<p>We have come the primrose way.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XII</h5> + +<h3>TO MRS. WILL. H. LOW</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Even</span> in the bluest noonday of July,</p> +<p>There could not run the smallest breath of wind</p> +<p>But all the quarter sounded like a wood;</p> +<p>And in the chequered silence and above</p> +<p>The hum of city cabs that sought the Bois,</p> +<p>Suburban ashes shivered into song.</p> +<p>A patter and a chatter and a chirp</p> +<p>And a long dying hiss—it was as though</p> +<p>Starched old brocaded dames through all the house</p> +<p>Had trailed a strident skirt, or the whole sky</p> +<p>Even in a wink had over-brimmed in rain.</p> +<p>Hark, in these shady parlours, how it talks</p> +<p>Of the near Autumn, how the smitten ash</p> +<p>Trembles and augurs floods! O not too long</p> +<p>In these inconstant latitudes delay,</p> +<p>O not too late from the unbeloved north</p> +<p>Trim your escape! For soon shall this low roof</p> +<p>Resound indeed with rain, soon shall your eyes</p> +<p>Search the foul garden, search the darkened rooms,</p> +<p>Nor find one jewel but the blazing log.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi1">12 Rue Vernier, Paris.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page78"></a>78</span></p> +<h5>XIII</h5> + +<h3>TO H. F. BROWN</h3> + +<h6>(WRITTEN DURING A DANGEROUS SICKNESS)</h6> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I sit</span> and wait a pair of oars</p> +<p>On cis-Elysian river-shores.</p> +<p>Where the immortal dead have sate,</p> +<p>’Tis mine to sit and meditate;</p> +<p>To re-ascend life’s rivulet,</p> +<p>Without remorse, without regret;</p> +<p>And sing my <i>Alma Genetrix</i></p> +<p>Among the willows of the Styx.</p> + +<p class="s">And lo, as my serener soul</p> +<p>Did these unhappy shores patrol,</p> +<p>And wait with an attentive ear</p> +<p>The coming of the gondolier,</p> +<p>Your fire-surviving roll I took,</p> +<p>Your spirited and happy book;<a name="FnAnchor_1a" href="#Footnote_1a"><span class="sp">1</span></a></p> +<p>Whereon, despite my frowning fate,</p> +<p>It did my soul so recreate</p> +<p>That all my fancies fled away</p> +<p>On a Venetian holiday.</p> + +<p class="s">Now, thanks to your triumphant care,</p> +<p>Your pages clear as April air,</p> +<p>The sails, the bells, the birds, I know,</p> +<p>And the far-off Friulan snow;</p> +<p>The land and sea, the sun and shade,</p> +<p>And the blue even lamp-inlaid.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page79"></a>79</span></p> +<p>For this, for these, for all, O friend,</p> +<p>For your whole book from end to end—</p> +<p>For Paron Piero’s mutton-ham—</p> +<p>I your defaulting debtor am.</p> + +<p class="s">Perchance, reviving, yet may I</p> +<p>To your sea-paven city hie,</p> +<p>And in a <i>felze</i> some day yet</p> +<p>Light at your pipe my cigarette.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1a" href="#FnAnchor_1a"><span class="fn">1</span></a> “Life on the Lagoons,” by H. F. Brown, originally burned in the +fire at Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench & Co.’s.</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIV</h5> + +<h3>TO ANDREW LANG</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear</span> Andrew, with the brindled hair,</p> +<p>Who glory to have thrown in air,</p> +<p>High over arm, the trembling reed,</p> +<p>By Ale and Kail, by Till and Tweed:</p> +<p>An equal craft of hand you show</p> +<p>The pen to guide, the fly to throw:</p> +<p>I count you happy-starred; for God,</p> +<p>When He with inkpot and with rod</p> +<p>Endowed you, bade your fortune lead</p> +<p>For ever by the crooks of Tweed,</p> +<p>For ever by the woods of song</p> +<p>And lands that to the Muse belong;</p> +<p>Or if in peopled streets, or in</p> +<p>The abhorred pedantic sanhedrin,</p> +<p>It should be yours to wander, still</p> +<p>Airs of the morn, airs of the hill,</p> +<p>The plovery Forest and the seas</p> +<p>That break about the Hebrides,</p> +<p>Should follow over field and plain</p> +<p>And find you at the window-pane;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page80"></a>80</span></p> +<p>And you again see hill and peel,</p> +<p>And the bright springs gush at your heel.</p> +<p>So went the fiat forth, and so</p> +<p>Garrulous like a brook you go,</p> +<p>With sound of happy mirth and sheen</p> +<p>Of daylight—whether by the green</p> +<p>You fare that moment, or the grey;</p> +<p>Whether you dwell in March or May;</p> +<p>Or whether treat of reels and rods</p> +<p>Or of the old unhappy gods:</p> +<p>Still like a brook your page has shone,</p> +<p>And your ink sings of Helicon.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XV</h5> + +<h3>ET TU IN ARCADIA VIXISTI</h3> + +<h5>(TO R. A. M. S.)</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> ancient tales, O friend, thy spirit dwelt;</p> +<p>There, from of old, thy childhood passed; and there</p> +<p>High expectation, high delights and deeds,</p> +<p>Thy fluttering heart with hope and terror moved.</p> +<p>And thou hast heard of yore the Blatant Beast,</p> +<p>And Roland’s horn, and that war-scattering shout</p> +<p>Of all-unarmed Achilles, ægis-crowned.</p> +<p>And perilous lands thou sawest, sounding shores</p> +<p>And seas and forests drear, island and dale</p> +<p>And mountain dark. For thou with Tristram rod’st</p> +<p>Or Bedevere, in farthest Lyonesse.</p> +<p>Thou hadst a booth in Samarcand, whereat</p> +<p>Side-looking Magians trafficked; thence, by night,</p> +<p>An Afreet snatched thee, and with wings upbore</p> +<p>Beyond the Aral Mount; or, hoping gain,</p> +<p>Thou, with a jar of money, didst embark</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page81"></a>81</span></p> +<p>For Balsorah by sea. But chiefly thou</p> +<p>In that clear air took’st life; in Arcady</p> +<p>The haunted, land of song; and by the wells</p> +<p>Where most the gods frequent. There Chiron old,</p> +<p>In the Pelethronian antre, taught thee lore;</p> +<p>The plants he taught, and by the shining stars</p> +<p>In forests dim to steer. There hast thou seen</p> +<p>Immortal Pan dance secret in a glade,</p> +<p>And, dancing, roll his eyes; these, where they fell,</p> +<p>Shed glee, and through the congregated oaks</p> +<p>A flying horror winged; while all the earth</p> +<p>To the god’s pregnant footing thrilled within.</p> +<p>Or whiles, beside the sobbing stream, he breathed,</p> +<p>In his clutched pipe unformed and wizard strains</p> +<p>Divine yet brutal; which the forest heard,</p> +<p>And thou, with awe; and far upon the plain</p> +<p>The unthinking ploughman started and gave ear.</p> + +<p class="s">Now things there are that, upon him who sees,</p> +<p>A strong vocation lay; and strains there are</p> +<p>That whoso hears shall hear for evermore.</p> +<p>For evermore thou hear’st immortal Pan</p> +<p>And those melodious godheads, ever young</p> +<p>And ever quiring, on the mountains old.</p> + +<p class="s">What was this earth, child of the gods, to thee?</p> +<p>Forth from thy dreamland thou, a dreamer, cam’st</p> +<p>And in thine ears the olden music rang,</p> +<p>And in thy mind the doings of the dead,</p> +<p>And those heroic ages long forgot.</p> +<p>To a so fallen earth, alas! too late,</p> +<p>Alas! in evil days, thy steps return,</p> +<p>To list at noon for nightingales, to grow</p> +<p>A dweller on the beach till Argo come</p> +<p>That came long since, a lingerer by the pool</p> +<p>Where that desirèd angel bathes no more.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page82"></a>82</span></p> +<p>As when the Indian to Dakota comes,</p> +<p>Or farthest Idaho, and where he dwelt,</p> +<p>He with his clan, a humming city finds;</p> +<p>Thereon a while, amazed, he stares, and then</p> +<p>To right and leftward, like a questing dog,</p> +<p>Seeks first the ancestral altars, then the hearth</p> +<p>Long cold with rains, and where old terror lodged,</p> +<p>And where the dead: so thee undying Hope,</p> +<p>With all her pack, hunts screaming through the years:</p> +<p>Here, there, thou fleeëst; but nor here nor there</p> +<p>The pleasant gods abide, the glory dwells.</p> + +<p class="s">That, that was not Apollo, not the god.</p> +<p>This was not Venus, though she Venus seemed</p> +<p>A moment. And though fair yon river move,</p> +<p>She, all the way, from disenchanted fount</p> +<p>To seas unhallowed runs; the gods forsook</p> +<p>Long since her trembling rushes; from her plains</p> +<p>Disconsolate, long since adventure fled;</p> +<p>And now although the inviting river flows,</p> +<p>And every poplared cape, and every bend</p> +<p>Or willowy islet, win upon thy soul</p> +<p>And to thy hopeful shallop whisper speed;</p> +<p>Yet hope not thou at all; hope is no more;</p> +<p>And O, long since the golden groves are dead</p> +<p>The faëry cities vanished from the land!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVI</h5> + +<h3>TO W.E. HENLEY</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> year runs through her phases; rain and sun,</p> +<p>Spring-time and summer pass; winter succeeds;</p> +<p>But one pale season rules the house of death.</p> +<p>Cold falls the imprisoned daylight; fell disease</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page83"></a>83</span></p> +<p>By each lean pallet squats, and pain and sleep</p> +<p>Toss gaping on the pillows.</p> + <p style="margin-left: 15em;">But O thou!</p> +<p>Uprise and take thy pipe. Bid music flow,</p> +<p>Strains by good thoughts attended, like the spring</p> +<p>The swallows follow over land and sea.</p> +<p>Pain sleeps at once; at once, with open eyes,</p> +<p>Dozing despair awakes. The shepherd sees</p> +<p>His flock come bleating home; the seaman hears</p> +<p>Once more the cordage rattle. Airs of home!</p> +<p>Youth, love, and roses blossom; the gaunt ward</p> +<p>Dislimns and disappears, and, opening out,</p> +<p>Shows brooks and forests, and the blue beyond</p> +<p>Of mountains.</p> + <p style="margin-left: 11em;">Small the pipe; but O! do thou,</p> +<p>Peak-faced and suffering piper, blow therein</p> +<p>The dirge of heroes dead; and to these sick,</p> +<p>These dying, sound the triumph over death.</p> +<p>Behold! each greatly breathes; each tastes a joy</p> +<p>Unknown before, in dying; for each knows</p> +<p>A hero dies with him—though unfulfilled,</p> +<p>Yet conquering truly—and not dies in vain.</p> + +<p class="s">So is pain cheered, death comforted; the house</p> +<p>Of sorrow smiles to listen. Once again—</p> +<p>O thou, Orpheus and Heracles, the bard</p> +<p>And the deliverer, touch the stops again!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVII</h5> + +<h3>HENRY JAMES</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Who</span> comes to-night? We ope the doors in vain.</p> +<p>Who comes? My bursting walls, can you contain</p> +<p>The presences that now together throng</p> +<p>Your narrow entry, as with flowers and song,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page84"></a>84</span></p> +<p>As with the air of life, the breath of talk?</p> +<p>Lo, how these fair immaculate women walk</p> +<p>Behind their jocund maker; and we see</p> +<p>Slighted <i>De Mauves</i>, and that far different she,</p> +<p><i>Gressie</i>, the trivial sphynx; and to our feast</p> +<p><i>Daisy</i> and <i>Barb</i> and <i>Chancellor</i> (she not least!)</p> +<p>With all their silken, all their airy kin,</p> +<p>Do like unbidden angels enter in.</p> +<p>But he, attended by these shining names,</p> +<p>Comes (best of all) himself—our welcome James.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVIII</h5> + +<h3>THE MIRROR SPEAKS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Where</span> the bells peal far at sea</p> +<p>Cunning fingers fashioned me.</p> +<p>There on palace walls I hung</p> +<p>While that Consuelo sung;</p> +<p>But I heard, though I listened well,</p> +<p>Never a note, never a trill,</p> +<p>Never a beat of the chiming bell.</p> +<p>There I hung and looked, and there</p> +<p>In my grey face, faces fair</p> +<p>Shone from under shining hair.</p> +<p>Well I saw the poising head,</p> +<p>But the lips moved and nothing said;</p> +<p>And when lights were in the hall,</p> +<p>Silent moved the dancers all.</p> + +<p class="s">So a while I glowed, and then</p> +<p>Fell on dusty days and men;</p> +<p>Long I slumbered packed in straw,</p> +<p>Long I none but dealers saw;</p> +<p>Till before my silent eye</p> +<p>One that sees came passing by.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page85"></a>85</span></p> +<p>Now with an outlandish grace,</p> +<p>To the sparkling fire I face</p> +<p>In the blue room at Skerryvore;</p> +<p>Where I wait until the door</p> +<p>Open, and the Prince of Men,</p> +<p>Henry James, shall come again.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIX</h5> + +<h3>KATHARINE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">We</span> see you as we see a face</p> +<p>That trembles in a forest place</p> +<p>Upon the mirror of a pool</p> +<p>For ever quiet, clear, and cool;</p> +<p>And, in the wayward glass, appears</p> +<p>To hover between smiles and tears,</p> +<p>Elfin and human, airy and true,</p> +<p>And backed by the reflected blue.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XX</h5> + +<h3>TO F. J. S.</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I read</span>, dear friend, in your dear face</p> +<p>Your life’s tale told with perfect grace;</p> +<p>The river of your life I trace</p> +<p>Up the sun-chequered, devious bed</p> +<p>To the far-distant fountain-head.</p> + +<p class="s">Not one quick beat of your warm heart,</p> +<p>Nor thought that came to you apart,</p> +<p>Pleasure nor pity, love nor pain</p> +<p>Nor sorrow, has gone by in vain;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page86"></a>86</span></p> +<p>But as some lone, wood-wandering child</p> +<p>Brings home with him at evening mild</p> +<p>The thorns and flowers of all the wild,</p> +<p>From your whole life, O fair and true,</p> +<p>Your flowers and thorns you bring with you!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXI</h5> + +<h3>REQUIEM</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Under</span> the wide and starry sky,</p> +<p>Dig the grave and let me lie.</p> +<p>Glad did I live and gladly die,</p> + <p class="i1">And I laid me down with a will.</p> + +<p class="s">This be the verse you grave for me:</p> +<p><i>Here he lies where he longed to be;</i></p> +<p><i>Home is the sailor, home from sea,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>And the hunter home from the hill.</i></p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Hyères</span>, <i>May 1884</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXII</h5> + +<h3>THE CELESTIAL SURGEON</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">If</span> I have faltered more or less</p> +<p>In my great task of happiness;</p> +<p>If I have moved among my race</p> +<p>And shown no glorious morning face;</p> +<p>If beams from happy human eyes</p> +<p>Have moved me not; if morning skies,</p> +<p>Books, and my food, and summer rain</p> +<p>Knocked on my sullen heart in vain:—</p> +<p>Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take</p> +<p>And stab my spirit broad awake;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page87"></a>87</span></p> +<p>Or, Lord, if too obdurate I,</p> +<p>Choose Thou, before that spirit die,</p> +<p>A piercing pain, a killing sin,</p> +<p>And to my dead heart run them in!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIII</h5> + +<h3>OUR LADY OF THE SNOWS</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Out</span> of the sun, out of the blast,</p> +<p>Out of the world, alone I passed</p> +<p>Across the moor and through the wood</p> +<p>To where the monastery stood.</p> +<p>There neither lute nor breathing fife,</p> +<p>Nor rumour of the world of life,</p> +<p>Nor confidences low and dear,</p> +<p>Shall strike the meditative ear.</p> +<p>Aloof, unhelpful, and unkind,</p> +<p>The prisoners of the iron mind,</p> +<p>Where nothing speaks except the bell,</p> +<p>The unfraternal brothers dwell.</p> + +<p class="s">Poor passionate men, still clothed afresh</p> +<p>With agonising folds of flesh;</p> +<p>Whom the clear eyes solicit still</p> +<p>To some bold output of the will,</p> +<p>While fairy Fancy far before</p> +<p>And musing Memory-Hold-the-door</p> +<p>Now to heroic death invite</p> +<p>And now uncurtain fresh delight:</p> +<p>O, little boots it thus to dwell</p> +<p>On the remote unneighboured hill!</p> + +<p class="s">O to be up and doing, O</p> +<p>Unfearing and unshamed to go</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page88"></a>88</span></p> +<p>In all the uproar and the press</p> +<p>About my human business!</p> +<p>My undissuaded heart I hear</p> +<p>Whisper courage in my ear.</p> +<p>With voiceless calls, the ancient earth</p> +<p>Summons me to a daily birth.</p> +<p>Thou, O my love, ye, O my friends—</p> +<p>The gist of life, the end of ends—</p> +<p>To laugh, to love, to live, to die,</p> +<p>Ye call me by the ear and eye!</p> + +<p class="s">Forth from the casemate, on the plain</p> +<p>Where honour has the world to gain,</p> +<p>Pour forth and bravely do your part,</p> +<p>O knights of the unshielded heart!</p> +<p>Forth and for ever forward!—out</p> +<p>From prudent turret and redoubt,</p> +<p>And in the mellay charge amain,</p> +<p>To fall but yet to rise again!</p> +<p>Captive? ah, still, to honour bright,</p> +<p>A captive soldier of the right!</p> +<p>Or free and fighting, good with ill?</p> +<p>Unconquering but unconquered still!</p> + +<p class="s">And ye, O brethren, what if God,</p> +<p>When from Heav’n’s top He spies abroad,</p> +<p>And sees on this tormented stage</p> +<p>The noble war of mankind rage:</p> +<p>What if His vivifying eye,</p> +<p>O monks, should pass your corner by?</p> +<p>For still the Lord is Lord of might;</p> +<p>In deeds, in deeds, He takes delight;</p> +<p>The plough, the spear, the laden barks,</p> +<p>The field, the founded city, marks;</p> +<p>He marks the smiler of the streets,</p> +<p>The singer upon garden seats;</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page89"></a>89</span></p> + +<p class="s">He sees the climber in the rocks:</p> +<p>To Him, the shepherd folds his flocks.</p> +<p>For those He loves that underprop</p> +<p>With daily virtues Heaven’s top,</p> +<p>And bear the falling sky with ease,</p> +<p>Unfrowning caryatides.</p> +<p>Those He approves that ply the trade,</p> +<p>That rock the child, that wed the maid,</p> +<p>That with weak virtues, weaker hands,</p> +<p>Sow gladness on the peopled lands.</p> +<p>And still with laughter, song and shout,</p> +<p>Spin the great wheel of earth about.</p> + +<p class="s">But ye?—O ye who linger still</p> +<p>Here in your fortress on the hill,</p> +<p>With placid face, with tranquil breath,</p> +<p>The unsought volunteers of death,</p> +<p>Our cheerful General on high</p> +<p>With careless looks may pass you by.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIV</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Not</span> yet, my soul, these friendly fields desert,</p> +<p>Where thou with grass, and rivers, and the breeze,</p> +<p>And the bright face of day, thy dalliance hadst;</p> +<p>Where to thine ear first sang the enraptured birds;</p> +<p>Where love and thou that lasting bargain made.</p> +<p>The ship rides trimmed, and from the eternal shore</p> +<p>Thou hearest airy voices; but not yet</p> +<p>Depart, my soul, not yet a while depart.</p> + +<p class="s">Freedom is far, rest far. Thou art with life</p> +<p>Too closely woven, nerve with nerve entwined;</p> +<p>Service still craving service, love for love,</p> +<p>Love for dear love, still suppliant with tears.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page90"></a>90</span></p> +<p>Alas, not yet thy human task is done!</p> +<p>A bond at birth is forged; a debt doth lie</p> +<p>Immortal on mortality. It grows—</p> +<p>By vast rebound it grows, unceasing growth;</p> +<p>Gift upon gift, alms upon alms, upreared,</p> +<p>From man, from God, from nature, till the soul</p> +<p>At that so huge indulgence stands amazed.</p> + +<p class="s">Leave not, my soul, the unfoughten field, nor leave</p> +<p>Thy debts dishonoured, nor thy place desert</p> +<p>Without due service rendered. For thy life,</p> +<p>Up, spirit, and defend that fort of clay,</p> +<p>Thy body, now beleaguered; whether soon</p> +<p>Or late she fall; whether to-day thy friends</p> +<p>Bewail thee dead, or, after years, a man</p> +<p>Grown old in honour and the friend of peace.</p> +<p>Contend, my soul, for moments and for hours;</p> +<p>Each is with service pregnant; each reclaimed</p> +<p>Is as a kingdom conquered, where to reign.</p> + +<p class="s">As when a captain rallies to the fight</p> +<p>His scattered legions, and beats ruin back,</p> +<p>He, on the field, encamps, well pleased in mind.</p> +<p>Yet surely him shall fortune overtake,</p> +<p>Him smite in turn, headlong his ensigns drive;</p> +<p>And that dear land, now safe, to-morrow fall.</p> +<p>But he, unthinking, in the present good</p> +<p>Solely delights, and all the camps rejoice.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXV</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">It</span> is not yours, O mother, to complain,</p> +<p>Not, mother, yours to weep,</p> +<p>Though nevermore your son again</p> +<p>Shall to your bosom creep,</p> +<p>Though nevermore again you watch your baby sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page91"></a>91</span></p> + +<p class="s">Though in the greener paths of earth,</p> +<p>Mother and child, no more</p> +<p>We wander; and no more the birth</p> +<p>Of me whom once you bore</p> +<p>Seems still the brave reward that once it seemed of yore;</p> + +<p class="s">Though as all passes, day and night,</p> +<p>The seasons and the years,</p> +<p>From you, O mother, this delight,</p> +<p>This also disappears—</p> +<p>Some profit yet survives of all your pangs and tears.</p> + +<p class="s">The child, the seed, the grain of corn,</p> +<p>The acorn on the hill,</p> +<p>Each for some separate end is born</p> +<p>In season fit, and still</p> +<p>Each must in strength arise to work the almighty will.</p> + +<p class="s">So from the hearth the children flee,</p> +<p>By that almighty hand</p> +<p>Austerely led; so one by sea</p> +<p>Goes forth, and one by land;</p> +<p>Nor aught of all man’s sons escapes from that command.</p> + +<p class="s">So from the sally each obeys</p> +<p>The unseen almighty nod;</p> +<p>So till the ending all their ways</p> +<p>Blindfolded loth have trod:</p> +<p>Nor knew their task at all, but were the tools of God.</p> + +<p class="s">And as the fervent smith of yore</p> +<p>Beat out the glowing blade,</p> +<p>Nor wielded in the front of war</p> +<p>The weapons that he made,</p> +<p>But in the tower at home still plied his ringing trade;</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page92"></a>92</span></p> + +<p class="s">So like a sword the son shall roam</p> +<p>On nobler missions sent;</p> +<p>And as the smith remained at home</p> +<p>In peaceful turret pent,</p> +<p>So sits the while at home the mother well content.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVI</h5> + +<h3>THE SICK CHILD</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="ct">CHILD</p> + +<p><span class="sc">O Mother</span>, lay your hand on my brow!</p> +<p>O mother, mother, where am I now?</p> +<p>Why is the room so gaunt and great?</p> +<p>Why am I lying awake so late?</p> + +<p class="ct s">MOTHER</p> + +<p>Fear not at all: the night is still.</p> +<p>Nothing is here that means you ill—</p> +<p>Nothing but lamps the whole town through,</p> +<p>And never a child awake but you.</p> + +<p class="ct s">CHILD</p> + +<p>Mother, mother, speak low in my ear,</p> +<p>Some of the things are so great and near,</p> +<p>Some are so small and far away,</p> +<p>I have a fear that I cannot say.</p> +<p>What have I done, and what do I fear,</p> +<p>And why are you crying, mother dear?</p> + +<p class="ct s">MOTHER</p> + +<p>Out in the city, sounds begin,</p> +<p>Thank the kind God, the carts come in!</p> +<p>An hour or two more, and God is so kind,</p> +<p>The day shall be blue in the window-blind,</p> +<p>Then shall my child go sweetly asleep,</p> +<p>And dream of the birds and the hills of sheep.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page93"></a>93</span></p> +<h5>XXVII</h5> + +<h3>IN MEMORIAM F.A.S.</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Yet</span>, O stricken heart, remember, O remember</p> + <p class="i1">How of human days he lived the better part.</p> +<p>April came to bloom and never dim December</p> + <p class="i1">Breathed its killing chills upon the head or heart.</p> + +<p class="s">Doomed to know not Winter, only Spring, a being</p> + <p class="i1">Trod the flowery April blithely for a while,</p> +<p>Took his fill of music, joy of thought and seeing,</p> + <p class="i1">Came and stayed and went, nor ever ceased to smile.</p> + +<p class="s">Came and stayed and went, and now when all is finished,</p> + <p class="i1">You alone have crossed the melancholy stream,</p> +<p>Yours the pang, but his, O his, the undiminished</p> + <p class="i1">Undecaying gladness, undeparted dream.</p> + +<p class="s">All that life contains of torture, toil, and treason,</p> + <p class="i1">Shame, dishonour, death, to him were but a name.</p> +<p>Here, a boy, he dwelt through all the singing season,</p> + <p class="i1">And ere the day of sorrow departed as he came.</p> + +<p class="sc f80 s mi2">Davos, 1881.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVIII</h5> + +<h3>TO MY FATHER</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Peace</span> and her huge invasion to these shores</p> +<p>Puts daily home; innumerable sails</p> +<p>Dawn on the far horizon and draw near;</p> +<p>Innumerable loves, uncounted hopes</p> +<p>To our wild coasts, not darkling now, approach:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page94"></a>94</span></p> +<p>Not now obscure, since thou and thine are there,</p> +<p>And bright on the lone isle, the foundered reef,</p> +<p>The long, resounding foreland, Pharos stands.</p> + +<p class="s">These are thy works, O father, these thy crown;</p> +<p>Whether on high the air be pure, they shine</p> +<p>Along the yellowing sunset, and all night</p> +<p>Among the unnumbered stars of God they shine;</p> +<p>Or whether fogs arise and far and wide</p> +<p>The low sea-level drown—each finds a tongue</p> +<p>And all night long the tolling bell resounds:</p> +<p>So shine, so toll, till night be overpast,</p> +<p>Till the stars vanish, till the sun return,</p> +<p>And in the haven rides the fleet secure.</p> + +<p class="s">In the first hour, the seaman in his skiff</p> +<p>Moves through the unmoving bay, to where the town</p> +<p>Its earliest smoke into the air upbreathes,</p> +<p>And the rough hazels climb along the beach.</p> +<p>To the tugged oar the distant echo speaks.</p> +<p>The ship lies resting, where by reef and roost</p> +<p>Thou and thy lights have led her like a child.</p> + +<p class="s">This hast thou done, and I—can I be base?</p> +<p>I must arise, O father, and to port</p> +<p>Some lost, complaining seaman pilot home.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIX</h5> + +<h3>IN THE STATES</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">With</span> half a heart I wander here</p> + <p class="i1">As from an age gone by</p> +<p>A brother—yet though young in years,</p> + <p class="i1">An elder brother, I.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page95"></a>95</span></p> + +<p class="s">You speak another tongue than mine,</p> + <p class="i1">Though both were English born.</p> +<p>I towards the night of time decline</p> + <p class="i1">You mount into the morn.</p> + +<p class="s">Youth shall grow great and strong and free,</p> + <p class="i1">But age must still decay:</p> +<p>To-morrow for the States,—for me,</p> + <p class="i1">England and Yesterday.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">San Francisco.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXX</h5> + +<h3>A PORTRAIT</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I am</span> a kind of farthing dip,</p> + <p class="i1">Unfriendly to the nose and eyes;</p> +<p>A blue-behinded ape, I skip</p> + <p class="i1">Upon the trees of Paradise.</p> + +<p class="s">At mankind’s feast, I take my place</p> + <p class="i1">In solemn, sanctimonious state,</p> +<p>And have the air of saying grace</p> + <p class="i1">While I defile the dinner-plate.</p> + +<p class="s">I am “the smiler with the knife,”</p> + <p class="i1">The battener upon garbage, I—</p> +<p>Dear Heaven, with such a rancid life</p> + <p class="i1">Were it not better far to die?</p> + +<p class="s">Yet still, about the human pale,</p> + <p class="i1">I love to scamper, love to race,</p> +<p>To swing by my irreverent tail</p> + <p class="i1">All over the most holy place;</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page96"></a>96</span></p> + +<p class="s">And when at length, some golden day,</p> + <p class="i1">The unfailing sportsman, aiming at,</p> +<p>Shall bag, me—all the world shall say:</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Thank God, and there’s an end of that!</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXI</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Sing</span> clearlier, Muse, or evermore be still,</p> +<p>Sing truer or no longer sing!</p> +<p>No more the voice of melancholy Jaques</p> +<p>To wake a weeping echo in the hill;</p> +<p>But as the boy, the pirate of the spring,</p> +<p>From the green elm a living linnet takes,</p> +<p>One natural verse recapture—then be still.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXII</h5> + +<h3>A CAMP<a name="FnAnchor_1b" href="#Footnote_1b"><span class="sp">1</span></a></h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> bed was made, the room was fit,</p> +<p>By punctual eve the stars were lit;</p> +<p>The air was still, the water ran,</p> +<p>No need was there for maid or man,</p> +<p>When we put up, my ass and I,</p> +<p>At God’s green caravanserai.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXIII</h5> + +<h3>THE COUNTRY OF THE CAMISARDS<a name="FnAnchor_1b1" href="#Footnote_1b"><span class="sp">1</span></a></h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">We</span> travelled in the print of olden wars;</p> + <p class="i25">Yet all the land was green;</p> + <p class="i25">And love we found, and peace,</p> + <p class="i25">Where fire and war had been.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page97"></a>97</span></p> + +<p class="s">They pass and smile, the children of the sword—</p> + <p class="i25">No more the sword they wield;</p> + <p class="i25">And O, how deep the corn</p> + <p class="i25">Along the battlefield!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1b" href="#FnAnchor_1b"><span class="fn">1</span></a> From “Travels with a Donkey.”</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXIV</h5> + +<h3>SKERRYVORE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">For</span> love of lovely words, and for the sake</p> +<p>Of those, my kinsmen and my countrymen,</p> +<p>Who early and late in the windy ocean toiled</p> +<p>To plant a star for seamen, where was then</p> +<p>The surfy haunt of seals and cormorants:</p> +<p>I, on the lintel of this cot, inscribe</p> +<p>The name of a strong tower.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXV</h5> + +<h3>SKERRYVORE</h3> + +<h6>THE PARALLEL</h6> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Here</span> all is sunny, and when the truant gull</p> +<p>Skims the green level of the lawn, his wing</p> +<p>Dispetals roses; here the house is framed</p> +<p>Of kneaded brick and the plumed mountain pine,</p> +<p>Such clay as artists fashion and such wood</p> +<p>As the tree-climbing urchin breaks. But there</p> +<p>Eternal granite hewn from the living isle</p> +<p>And dowelled with brute iron, rears a tower</p> +<p>That from its wet foundation to its crown</p> +<p>Of glittering glass, stands, in the sweep of winds,</p> +<p>Immovable, immortal, eminent.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page98"></a>98</span></p> +<h5>XXXVI</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><i>My house</i>, I say. But hark to the sunny doves</p> +<p>That make my roof the arena of their loves,</p> +<p>That gyre about the gable all day long</p> +<p>And fill the chimneys with their murmurous song:</p> +<p><i>Our house</i>, they say; and <i>mine</i>, the cat declares</p> +<p>And spreads his golden fleece upon the chairs;</p> +<p>And <i>mine</i> the dog, and rises stiff with wrath</p> +<p>If any alien foot profane the path.</p> +<p>So too the buck that trimmed my terraces,</p> +<p>Our whilome gardener, called the garden his;</p> +<p>Who now, deposed, surveys my plain abode</p> +<p>And his late kingdom, only from the road.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVII</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">My</span> body which my dungeon is,</p> +<p>And yet my parks and palaces:—</p> + <p class="i1">Which is so great that there I go</p> +<p>All the day long to and fro,</p> +<p>And when the night begins to fall</p> +<p>Throw down my bed and sleep, while all</p> +<p>The building hums with wakefulness—</p> +<p>Even as a child of savages</p> +<p>When evening takes her on her way</p> +<p>(She having roamed a summer’s day</p> +<p>Along the mountain-sides and scalp),</p> +<p>Sleeps in an antre of that alp:—</p> + <p class="i1">Which is so broad and high that there,</p> +<p>As in the topless fields of air,</p> +<p>My fancy soars like to a kite</p> +<p>And faints in the blue infinite:—</p> + <p class="i1">Which is so strong, my strongest throes</p> +<p>And the rough world’s besieging blows</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page99"></a>99</span></p> +<p>Not break it, and so weak withal,</p> +<p>Death ebbs and flows in its loose wall</p> +<p>As the green sea in fishers’ nets,</p> +<p>And tops its topmost parapets:—</p> + <p class="i1">Which is so wholly mine that I</p> +<p>Can wield its whole artillery,</p> +<p>And mine so little, that my soul</p> +<p>Dwells in perpetual control,</p> +<p>And I but think and speak and do</p> +<p>As my dead fathers move me to:—</p> + <p class="i1">If this born body of my bones</p> +<p>The beggared soul so barely owns,</p> +<p>What money passed from hand to hand,</p> +<p>What creeping custom of the land,</p> +<p>What deed of author or assign,</p> +<p>Can make a house a thing of mine?</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVIII</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Say</span> not of me that weakly I declined</p> +<p>The labours of my sires, and fled the sea,</p> +<p>The towers we founded and the lamps we lit,</p> +<p>To play at home with paper like a child.</p> +<p>But rather say: <i>In the afternoon of time</i></p> +<p><i>A strenuous family dusted from its hands</i></p> +<p><i>The sand of granite, and beholding far</i></p> +<p><i>Along the sounding coast its pyramids</i></p> +<p><i>And tall memorials catch the dying sun,</i></p> +<p><i>Smiled well content, and to this childish task</i></p> +<p><i>Around the fire addressed its evening hours.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page100"></a>100</span></p> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page101"></a>101</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>BOOK II</h3> + +<h3>IN SCOTS</h3> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page102"></a>102</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page103"></a>103</span></p> +<h3>NOTE TO BOOK II</h3> + +<p>The human conscience has fled of late the troublesome domain of +conduct for what I should have supposed to be the less congenial +field of art: there she may now be said to rage, and with special +severity in all that touches dialect: so that in every novel the +letters of the alphabet are tortured, and the reader wearied, to +commemorate shades of mispronunciation. Now, spelling is an art +of great difficulty in my eyes, and I am inclined to lean upon the +printer, even in common practice, rather than to venture abroad +upon new quests. And the Scots tongue has an orthography of its +own, lacking neither “authority nor author.” Yet the temptation +is great to lend a little guidance to the bewildered Englishman. +Some simple phonetic artifice might defend your verses from +barbarous mishandling, and yet not injure any vested interest. +So it seems at first; but there are rocks ahead. Thus, if I wish +the diphthong <i>ou</i> to have its proper value, I may write <i>oor</i> instead +of <i>our</i>; many have done so and lived, and the pillars of the universe +remained unshaken. But if I did so, and came presently to <i>doun</i>, +which is the classical Scots spelling of the English <i>down</i>, I should +begin to feel uneasy; and if I went on a little further, and came +to a classical Scots word, like <i>stour</i> or <i>dour</i> or <i>clour</i>, I should know +precisely where I was—that is to say, that I was out of sight of land +on those high seas of spelling reform in which so many strong +swimmers have toiled vainly. To some the situation is exhilarating; +as for me, I give one bubbling cry and sink. The compromise +at which I have arrived is indefensible, and I have no thought of +trying to defend it. As I have stuck for the most part to the proper +spelling, I append a table of some common vowel sounds which no +one need consult; and just to prove that I belong to my age and +have in me the stuff of a reformer, I have used modification marks +throughout. Thus I can tell myself, not without pride, that I have +added a fresh stumbling-block for English readers, and to a page of +print in my native tongue have lent a new uncouthness. <i>Sed non +nobis.</i></p> + +<p>I note again, that among our new dialecticians, the local habitat +of every dialect is given to the square mile. I could not emulate +this nicety if I desired; for I simply wrote my Scots as well as I +was able, not caring if it hailed from Lauderdale or Angus, from the +Mearns or Galloway; if I had ever heard a good word, I used it +without shame; and when Scots was lacking, or the rhyme jibbed, +I was glad (like my betters) to fall back on English. For all that, +I own to a friendly feeling for the tongue of Fergusson and of Sir +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page104"></a>104</span> +Walter, both Edinburgh men; and I confess that Burns has always +sounded in my ear like something partly foreign. And indeed I +am from the Lothians myself; it is there I heard the language +spoken about my childhood; and it is in the drawling Lothian +voice that I repeat it to myself. Let the precisians call my speech +that of the Lothians. And if it be not pure, alas! what matters it? +The day draws near when this illustrious and malleable tongue +shall be quite forgotten; and Burns’s Ayrshire, and Dr. MacDonald’s +Aberdeen-awa’, and Scott’s brave, metropolitan utterance will be +all equally the ghosts of speech. Till then I would love to have my +hour as a native Maker, and be read by my own countryfolk in +our own dying language; an ambition surely rather of the heart +than of the head, so restricted as it is in prospect of endurance, +so parochial in bounds of space.</p> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h3>TABLE OF COMMON SCOTTISH VOWEL SOUNDS</h3> + +<table style="margin-left: 0;" summary="text format"> <tr style="vertical-align: middle; "><td> + +<p>ae</p> +<p>ai</p></td> + +<td><span style="font-size: 3em; font-family: 'Courier New'; color: #778899;">}</span></td> + +<td> = open A <i>as in</i> rare.</td></tr> + +<tr style="vertical-align: middle; "><td> +<p>a’</p> +<p>au</p> +<p>aw</p></td> + +<td><span style="font-size: 4em; font-family: 'Courier New'; color: #778899;">}</span></td> + +<td> = AW <i>as in</i> law.</td></tr> + +<tr><td> +ea</td> + +<td>=</td> + +<td><p>open E <i>as in</i> mere, but this with exceptions, as heather = + heather, wean = wain, lear = lair.</p></td></tr> + +<tr style="vertical-align: middle; "><td> +<p>ee</p> +<p>ei</p> +<p>ie</p></td> + +<td><span style="font-size: 4em; font-family: 'Courier New'; color: #778899;">}</span></td> + +<td> = open E <i>as in</i> mere.</td></tr> + +<tr><td>oa</td> <td>=</td> <td>open O <i>as in</i> more.</td></tr> + +<tr><td>ou</td> <td>=</td> <td>doubled O <i>as in</i> poor.</td></tr> + +<tr><td>ow</td> <td>=</td> <td>OW <i>as in</i> bower.</td></tr> + +<tr><td>u</td> <td>=</td> <td>doubled O <i>as in</i> poor.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="3">ui <i>or</i> ü before R = (say roughly) open A <i>as in</i> rare.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="3">ui <i>or</i> ü before any other consonant = (say roughly) close I <i>as in</i> grin.</td></tr> + +<tr><td>y</td> <td>=</td> <td>open I <i>as in</i> kite.</td></tr> + +<tr style="vertical-align: top; "><td>i</td> <td>=</td> <td><p>pretty nearly what you please, much as in English, Heaven + guide the reader through that labyrinth! But in Scots it + dodges usually from the short I, <i>as in</i> grin, to the open E + <i>as in</i> mere. Find and blind, I may remark, are pronounced + to rhyme with the preterite of grin.</p></td></tr> +</table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page105"></a>105</span></p> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>THE MAKER TO POSTERITY</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Far</span> ’yont amang the years to be,</p> +<p>When a’ we think, an’ a’ we see,</p> +<p>An’ a’ we luve, ’s been dung ajee</p> + <p class="i5">By time’s rouch shouther,</p> +<p>An’ what was richt and wrang for me</p> + <p class="i5">Lies mangled throu’ther,</p> + +<p class="s">It’s possible—it’s hardly mair—</p> +<p>That some ane, ripin’ after lear—</p> +<p>Some auld professor or young heir,</p> + <p class="i5">If still there’s either—</p> +<p>May find an’ read me, an’ be sair</p> + <p class="i5">Perplexed, puir brither!</p> + +<p class="s"><i>“What tongue does your auld bookie speak?”</i></p> +<p>He’ll speir; an’ I, his mou’ to steik:</p> +<p><i>“No’ bein’ fit to write in Greek,</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>I wrote in Lallan,</i></p> +<p><i>Dear to my heart as the peat-reek,</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Auld as Tantallon.</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>“Few spak it than, an’ noo there’s nane.</i></p> +<p><i>My puir auld sangs lie a’ their lane,</i></p> +<p><i>Their sense, that aince was braw an’ plain,</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Tint a’thegither,</i></p> +<p><i>Like runes upon a standin’ stane</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Amang the heather.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page106"></a>106</span></p> + +<p class="s"><i>“But think not you the brae to speel;</i></p> +<p><i>You, tae, maun chow the bitter peel;</i></p> +<p><i>For a’ your lear, for a’ your skeel,</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Ye’re nane sae lucky;</i></p> +<p><i>An’ things are mebbe waur than weel</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>For you, my buckie.</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>“The hale concern (baith hens an’ eggs,</i></p> +<p><i>Baith books an’ writers, stars an’ clegs)</i></p> +<p><i>Noo stachers upon lowsent legs</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>An’ wears awa’;</i></p> +<p><i>The tack o’ mankind, near the dregs,</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Rins unco law.</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>“Your book, that in some braw new tongue</i></p> +<p><i>Ye wrote or prentit, preached or sung,</i></p> +<p><i>Will still be just a bairn, an’ young</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>In fame an’ years,</i></p> +<p><i>Whan the hale planet’s guts are dung</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>About your ears;</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>“An’ you, sair gruppin’ to a spar</i></p> +<p><i>Or whammled wi’ some bleezin’ star,</i></p> +<p><i>Cryin’ to ken whaur deil ye are,</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Hame, France, or Flanders—</i></p> +<p><i>Whang sindry like a railway car</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>An’ flie in danders.”</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>ILLE TERRARUM</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Frae</span> nirly, nippin’, Eas’lan’ breeze,</p> +<p>Frae Norlan’ snaw, an’ haar o’ seas,</p> +<p>Weel happit in your gairden trees,</p> + <p class="i4">A bonny bit,</p> +<p>Atween the muckle Pentland’s knees,</p> + <p class="i4">Secure ye sit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page107"></a>107</span></p> + +<p class="s">Beeches an’ aiks entwine their theek,</p> +<p>An’ firs, a stench, auld-farrant clique.</p> +<p>A simmer day, your chimleys reek,</p> + <p class="i4">Couthy and bien;</p> +<p>An’ here an’ there your windies keek</p> + <p class="i4">Amang the green.</p> + +<p class="s">A pickle plats an’ paths an’ posies,</p> +<p>A wheen auld gillyflowers an’ roses:</p> +<p>A ring o’ wa’s the hale encloses</p> + <p class="i4">Frae sheep or men:</p> +<p>An’ there the auld housie beeks an’ dozes,</p> + <p class="i4">A’ by her lane.</p> + +<p class="s">The gairdner crooks his weary back</p> +<p>A’ day in the pitaty-track,</p> +<p>Or mebbe stops a while to crack</p> + <p class="i4">Wi’ Jane the cook,</p> +<p>Or at some buss, worm-eaten-black,</p> + <p class="i4">To gie a look.</p> + +<p class="s">Frae the high hills the curlew ca’s;</p> +<p>The sheep gang baaing by the wa’s;</p> +<p>Or whiles a clan o’ roosty craws</p> + <p class="i4">Cangle thegither;</p> +<p>The wild bees seek the gairden raws,</p> + <p class="i4">Weariet wi’ heather.</p> + +<p class="s">Or in the gloamin’ douce an’ grey</p> +<p>The sweet-throat mavis tunes her lay;</p> +<p>The herd comes linkin’ doun the brae;</p> + <p class="i4">An’ by degrees</p> +<p>The muckle siller müne maks way</p> + <p class="i4">Amang the trees.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page108"></a>108</span></p> + +<p class="s">Here aft hae I, wi’ sober heart,</p> +<p>For meditation sat apairt,</p> +<p>When orra loves or kittle art</p> + <p class="i4">Perplexed my mind;</p> +<p>Here socht a balm for ilka smart</p> + <p class="i4">O’ humankind.</p> + +<p class="s">Here aft, weel neukit by my lane,</p> +<p>Wi’ Horace, or perhaps Montaigne,</p> +<p>The mornin’ hours hae come an’ gane</p> + <p class="i4">Abüne my heid—</p> +<p>I wadna gi’en a chucky-stane</p> + <p class="i4">For a’ I’d read.</p> + +<p class="s">But noo the auld city, street by street,</p> +<p>An’ winter fu’ o’ snaw an’ sleet,</p> +<p>A while shut in my gangrel feet</p> + <p class="i4">An’ goavin’ mettle;</p> +<p>Noo is the soopit ingle sweet,</p> + <p class="i4">An’ liltin’ kettle.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ noo the winter winds complain;</p> +<p>Cauld lies the glaur in ilka lane;</p> +<p>On draigled hizzie, tautit wean</p> + <p class="i4">An’ drucken lads,</p> +<p>In the mirk nicht, the winter rain</p> + <p class="i4">Dribbles an’ blads.</p> + +<p class="s">Whan bugles frae the Castle rock,</p> +<p>An’ beaten drums wi’ dowie shock,</p> +<p>Wauken, at cauld-rife sax o’clock,</p> + <p class="i4">My chitterin’ frame,</p> +<p>I mind me on the kintry cock,</p> + <p class="i4">The kintry hame.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page109"></a>109</span></p> + +<p class="s">I mind me on yon bonny bield;</p> +<p>An’ Fancy traivels far afield</p> +<p>To gaither a’ that gairdens yield</p> + <p class="i4">O’ sun an’ Simmer:</p> +<p>To hearten up a dowie chield,</p> + <p class="i4">Fancy’s the limmer!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> aince Aprile has fairly come,</p> +<p>An’ birds may bigg in winter’s lum,</p> +<p>An’ pleesure’s spreid for a’ and some</p> + <p class="i4">O’ whatna state,</p> +<p>Love, wi’ her auld recruitin’ drum,</p> + <p class="i4">Than taks the gate.</p> + +<p class="s">The heart plays dunt wi’ main an’ micht;</p> +<p>The lasses’ een are a’ sae bricht,</p> +<p>Their dresses are sae braw an’ ticht,</p> + <p class="i4">The bonny birdies!—</p> +<p>Puir winter virtue at the sicht</p> + <p class="i4">Gangs heels ower hurdies.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ aye as love frae land to land</p> +<p>Tirls the drum wi’ eident hand,</p> +<p>A’ men collect at her command,</p> + <p class="i4">Toun-bred or land’art,</p> +<p>An’ follow in a denty band</p> + <p class="i4">Her gaucy standart.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ I, wha sang o’ rain an’ snaw,</p> +<p>An’ weary winter weel awa’,</p> +<p>Noo busk me in a jacket braw,</p> + <p class="i4">An’ tak my place</p> +<p>I’ the ram-stam, harum-scarum raw,</p> + <p class="i4">Wi’ smilin’ face.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page110"></a>110</span></p> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<h3>A MILE AN’ A BITTOCK</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">A mile</span> an’ a bittock, a mile or twa,</p> +<p>Abüne the burn, ayont the law,</p> +<p>Davie an’ Donal’ an’ Cherlie an’ a’,</p> + <p class="i2">An’ the müne was shinin’ clearly!</p> + +<p class="s">Ane went hame wi’ the ither, an’ then</p> +<p>The ither went hame wi’ the ither twa men,</p> +<p>An’ baith wad return him the service again,</p> + <p class="i2">An’ the müne was shinin’ clearly!</p> + +<p class="s">The clocks were chappin’ in house an’ ha’,</p> +<p>Eleeven, twal an’ ane an’ twa;</p> +<p>An’ the guidman’s face was turnt to the wa’</p> + <p class="i2">An’ the müne was shinin’ clearly!</p> + +<p class="s">A wind got up frae affa the sea,</p> +<p>It blew the stars as clear’s could be,</p> +<p>It blew in the een of a’ o’ the three,</p> + <p class="i2">An’ the müne was shinin’ clearly!</p> + +<p class="s">Noo, Davie was first to get sleep in his head,</p> +<p>“The best o’ frien’s maun twine,” he said;</p> +<p>“I’m weariet, an’ here I’m awa’ to my bed.”</p> + <p class="i2">An’ the müne was shinin’ clearly!</p> + +<p class="s">Twa o’ them walkin’ an’ crackin’ their lane,</p> +<p>The mornin’ licht cam grey an’ plain,</p> +<p>An’ the birds they yammert on stick an’ stane,</p> + <p class="i2">An’ the müne was shinin’ clearly!</p> + +<p class="s">O years ayont, O years awa’,</p> +<p>My lads, ye’ll mind whate’er befa’—</p> +<p>My lads, ye’ll mind on the bield o’ the law,</p> + <p class="i2">When the müne was shinin’ clearly.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page111"></a>111</span></p> +<h5>V</h5> + +<h3>A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> clinkum-clank o’ Sabbath bells</p> +<p>Noo to the hoastin’ rookery swells,</p> +<p>Noo faintin’ laigh in shady dells,</p> + <p class="i3">Sounds far an’ near,</p> +<p>An’ through the simmer kintry tells</p> + <p class="i3">Its tale o’ cheer.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ noo, to that melodious play,</p> +<p>A’ deidly awn the quiet sway—</p> +<p>A’ ken their solemn holiday,</p> + <p class="i3">Bestial an’ human,</p> +<p>The singin’ lintie on the brae,</p> + <p class="i3">The restin’ plou’man.</p> + +<p class="s">He, mair than a’ the lave o’ men,</p> +<p>His week completit joys to ken;</p> +<p>Half-dressed, he daunders out an’ in,</p> + <p class="i3">Perplext wi’ leisure;</p> +<p>An’ his raxt limbs he’ll rax again</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ painfü’ pleesure.</p> + +<p class="s">The steerin’ mither strang afit</p> +<p>Noo shoos the bairnies but a bit;</p> +<p>Noo cries them ben, their Sinday shüit</p> + <p class="i3">To scart upon them,</p> +<p>Or sweeties in their pooch to pit,</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ blessin’s on them.</p> + +<p class="s">The lasses, clean frae tap to taes,</p> +<p>Are busked in crunklin’ underclaes;</p> +<p>The gartened hose, the weel-fllled stays,</p> + <p class="i3">The nakit shift,</p> +<p>A’ bleached on bonny greens for days,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ white’s the drift.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page112"></a>112</span></p> + +<p class="s">An’ noo to face the kirkward mile:</p> +<p>The guidman’s hat o’ dacent style,</p> +<p>The blackit shoon we noo maun fyle</p> + <p class="i3">As white’s the miller:</p> +<p>A waefü’ peety tae, to spile</p> + <p class="i3">The warth o’ siller.</p> + +<p class="s">Our Marg’et, aye sae keen to crack,</p> +<p>Douce-stappin’ in the stoury track,</p> +<p>Her emeralt goun a’ kiltit back</p> + <p class="i3">Frae snawy coats,</p> +<p>White-ankled, leads the kirkward pack</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ Dauvit Groats.</p> + +<p class="s">A thocht ahint, in runkled breeks,</p> +<p>A’ spiled wi’ lyin’ by for weeks,</p> +<p>The guidman follows closs, an’ cleiks</p> + <p class="i3">The sonsie missis;</p> +<p>His sarious face at aince bespeaks</p> + <p class="i3">The day that this is.</p> + +<p class="s">And aye an’ while we nearer draw</p> +<p>To whaur the kirkton lies alaw,</p> +<p>Mair neebours, comin’ saft an’ slaw</p> + <p class="i3">Frae here an’ there,</p> +<p>The thicker thrang the gate an’ caw</p> + <p class="i3">The stour in air.</p> + +<p class="s">But hark! the bells frae nearer clang;</p> +<p>To rowst the slaw their sides they bang;</p> +<p>An’ see! black coats a’ready thrang</p> + <p class="i3">The green kirkyaird;</p> +<p>And at the yett, the chestnuts spang</p> + <p class="i3">That brocht the laird.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page113"></a>113</span></p> + +<p class="s">The solemn elders at the plate</p> +<p>Stand drinkin’ deep the pride o’ state:</p> +<p>The practised hands as gash an’ great</p> + <p class="i3">As Lords o’ Session;</p> +<p>The later named, a wee thing blate</p> + <p class="i3">In their expression.</p> + +<p class="s">The prentit stanes that mark the deid,</p> +<p>Wi’ lengthened lip, the sarious read;</p> +<p>Syne wag a moraleesin’ heid,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ then an’ there</p> +<p>Their hirplin’ practice an’ their creed</p> + <p class="i3">Try hard to square.</p> + +<p class="s">It’s here our Merren lang has lain,</p> +<p>A wee bewast the table-stane;</p> +<p>An’ yon’s the grave o’ Sandy Blane;</p> + <p class="i3">An’ further ower,</p> +<p>The mither’s brithers, dacent men!</p> + <p class="i3">Lie a’ the fower.</p> + +<p class="s">Here the guidman sall bide awee</p> +<p>To dwall amang the deid; to see</p> +<p>Auld faces clear in fancy’s e’e;</p> + <p class="i3">Belike to hear</p> +<p>Auld voices fa’in’ saft an’ slee</p> + <p class="i3">On fancy’s ear.</p> + +<p class="s">Thus, on the day o’ solemn things,</p> +<p>The bell that in the steeple swings</p> +<p>To fauld a scaittered faim’ly rings</p> + <p class="i3">Its walcome screed;</p> +<p>An’ just a wee thing nearer brings</p> + <p class="i3">The quick an’ deid.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page114"></a>114</span></p> + +<p class="s">But noo the bell is ringin’ in;</p> +<p>To tak their places, folk begin;</p> +<p>The minister himsel’ will shüne</p> + <p class="i3">Be up the gate,</p> +<p>Filled fu’ wi’ clavers about sin</p> + <p class="i3">An’ man’s estate.</p> + +<p class="s">The tünes are up—<i>French</i>, to be shüre,</p> +<p>The faithfü’ <i>French</i>, an’ twa-three mair;</p> +<p>The auld prezentor, hoastin’ sair,</p> + <p class="i3">Wales out the portions,</p> +<p>An’ yirks the tüne into the air</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ queer contortions.</p> + +<p class="s">Follows the prayer, the readin’ next,</p> +<p>An’ than the fisslin’ for the text—</p> +<p>The twa-three last to find it, vext</p> + <p class="i3">But kind o’ proud;</p> +<p>An’ than the peppermints are raxed,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ southernwood.</p> + +<p class="s">For noo’s the time whan pows are seen</p> +<p>Nid-noddin’ like a mandareen;</p> +<p>When tenty mithers stap a preen</p> + <p class="i3">In sleepin’ weans;</p> +<p>An’ nearly half the parochine</p> + <p class="i3">Forget their pains.</p> + +<p class="s">There’s just a waukrif twa or three:</p> +<p>Thrawn commentautors sweer to ’gree,</p> +<p>Weans glowrin’ at the bumlin’ bee</p> + <p class="i3">On windie-glasses,</p> +<p>Or lads that tak a keek a-glee</p> + <p class="i3">At sonsie lasses.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page115"></a>115</span></p> + +<p class="s">Himsel’, meanwhile, frae whaur he cocks</p> +<p>An’ bobs belaw the soundin’-box,</p> +<p>The treasures of his words unlocks</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ prodigality,</p> +<p>An’ deals some unco dingin’ knocks</p> + <p class="i3">To infidality.</p> + +<p class="s">Wi’ sappy unction, hoo he burkes</p> +<p>The hopes o’ men that trust in works,</p> +<p>Expounds the fau’ts o’ ither kirks,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ shaws the best o’ them</p> +<p>No’ muckle better than mere Turks,</p> + <p class="i3">When a’s confessed o’ them.</p> + +<p class="s">Bethankit! what a bonny creed!</p> +<p>What mair would ony Christian need?—</p> +<p>The braw words rummle ower his heid,</p> + <p class="i3">Nor steer the sleeper;</p> +<p>An’ in their restin’ graves, the deid</p> + <p class="i3">Sleep aye the deeper.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<div class="quote"> +<p><span class="sc">Note.</span>—It may be guessed by some that I had a certain parish in my +eye, and this makes it proper I should add a word of disclamation. +In my time there have been two ministers in that parish. Of +the first I have a special reason to speak well, even had there been +any to think ill. The second I have often met in private and long +(in the due phrase) “sat under” in his church, and neither here +nor there have I heard an unkind or ugly word upon his lips. The +preacher of the text had thus no original in that particular parish; +but when I was a boy, he might have been observed in many others; +he was then (like the schoolmaster) abroad; and by recent advices, +it would seem he has not yet entirely disappeared.—[R. L. S.]</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page116"></a>116</span></p> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<h3>THE SPAEWIFE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p>O, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—</p> +<p>Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry.</p> +<p>An’ siller, that’s sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gi’e.</p> +<p>—<i>It’s gey an’ easy speirin’</i>, says the beggar-wife to me.</p> + +<p class="s">O, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—</p> +<p>Hoo a’ things come to be whaur we find them when we try.</p> +<p>The lassies in their claes an’ the fishes in the sea.</p> +<p>—<i>It’s gey an’ easy speirin’</i>, says the beggar-wife to me.</p> + +<p class="s">O’ I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—</p> +<p>Why lads are a’ to sell an’ lasses a’ to buy;</p> +<p>An’ naebody for dacency but barely twa or three.</p> +<p>—<i>It’s gey an’ easy speirin’</i>, says the beggar-wife to me.</p> + +<p class="s">O, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—</p> +<p>Gin death’s as shüre to men as killin’ is to kye,</p> +<p>Why God has filled the yearth sae fu’ o’ tasty things to pree.</p> +<p>—<i>It’s gey an’ easy speirin’</i>, says the beggar-wife to me.</p> + +<p class="s">O, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—</p> +<p>The reason o’ the cause an’ the wherefore o’ the why,</p> +<p>Wi’ mony anither riddle brings the tear into my e’e.</p> +<p>—<i>It’s gey an’ easy speirin’</i>, says the beggar-wife to me.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<h3>THE BLAST—1875</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">It’s</span> rainin’. Weet’s the gairden sod,</p> +<p>Weet the lang roads whaur gangrels plod—</p> +<p>A maist unceevil thing o’ God</p> + <p class="i3">In mid July—</p> +<p>If ye’ll just curse the sneckdraw, dod!</p> + <p class="i3">An’ sae wull I!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page117"></a>117</span></p> + +<p class="s">He’s a braw place in Heev’n, ye ken,</p> +<p>An’ lea’s us puir, forjaskit men</p> +<p>Clamjamfried in the but and ben</p> + <p class="i3">He ca’s the earth—</p> +<p>A wee bit inconvenient den</p> + <p class="i3">No muckle worth;</p> + +<p class="s">An’ whiles, at orra times, keeks out,</p> +<p>Sees what puir mankind are about;</p> +<p>An’ if He can, I’ve little doubt,</p> + <p class="i3">Upsets their plans;</p> +<p>He hates a’ mankind, brainch and root,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ a’ that’s man’s.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ whiles, whan they tak’ heart again,</p> +<p>An’ life i’ the sun looks braw an’ plain,</p> +<p>Doun comes a jaw o’ droukin’ rain</p> + <p class="i3">Upon their honours—</p> +<p>God sends a spate out ower the plain,</p> + <p class="i3">Or mebbe thun’ers.</p> + +<p class="s">Lord safe us, life’s an unco thing!</p> +<p>Simmer and Winter, Yule an’ Spring,</p> +<p>The damned, dour-heartit seasons bring</p> + <p class="i3">A feck o’ trouble.</p> +<p>I wadna try ’t to be a king—</p> + <p class="i3">No, nor for double.</p> + +<p class="s">But since we’re in it, willy-nilly,</p> +<p>We maun be watchfü’, wise an’ skilly,</p> +<p>An’ no’ mind ony ither billy,</p> + <p class="i3">Lassie nor God.</p> +<p>But drink—that’s my best counsel till ’e;</p> + <p class="i3">Sae tak’ the nod.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page118"></a>118</span></p> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<h3>THE COUNTERBLAST—1886</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">My</span> bonny man, the warld, it’s true,</p> +<p>Was made for neither me nor you;</p> +<p>It’s just a place to warstle through,</p> + <p class="i3">As Job confessed o’t;</p> +<p>And aye the best that we’ll can do</p> + <p class="i3">Is mak’ the best o’t.</p> + +<p class="s">There’s rowth o’ wrang, I’m free to say:</p> +<p>The simmer brunt, the winter blae,</p> +<p>The face of earth a’ fyled wi’ clay</p> + <p class="i3">An’ dour wi’ chuckies,</p> +<p>An’ life a rough an’ land’art play</p> + <p class="i3">For country buckies.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ food’s anither name for clart;</p> +<p>An’ beasts an’ brambles bite an’ scart;</p> +<p>An’ what would <span class="sc">WE</span> be like, my heart!</p> + <p class="i3">If bared o’ claethin’?</p> +<p>—Aweel, I canna mend your cart:</p> + <p class="i3">It’s that or naethin’.</p> + +<p class="s">A feck o’ folk frae first to last</p> +<p>Have through this queer experience passed;</p> +<p>Twa-three, I ken, just damn an’ blast</p> + <p class="i3">The hale transaction;</p> +<p>But twa-three ithers, east an’ wast,</p> + <p class="i3">Fand satisfaction.</p> + +<p class="s">Whaur braid the briery muirs expand,</p> +<p>A waefü’ an’ a weary land,</p> +<p>The bumble-bees, a gowden band,</p> + <p class="i3">Are blithely hingin’;</p> +<p>An’ there the canty wanderer fand</p> + <p class="i3">The laverock singin’.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page119"></a>119</span></p> + +<p class="s">Trout in the burn grow great as herr’n’;</p> +<p>The simple sheep can find their fair’n’;</p> +<p>The winds blaws clean about the cairn</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ caller air;</p> +<p>The muircock an’ the barefit bairn</p> + <p class="i3">Are happy there.</p> + +<p class="s">Sic-like the howes o’ life to some:</p> +<p>Green loans whaur they ne’er fash their thumb,</p> +<p>But mark the muckle winds that come,</p> + <p class="i3">Soopin’ an’ cool,</p> +<p>Or hear the powrin’ burnie drum</p> + <p class="i3">In the shilfa’s pool.</p> + +<p class="s">The evil wi’ the guid they tak’;</p> +<p>They ca’ a grey thing grey, no’ black;</p> +<p>To a steigh brae a stubborn back</p> + <p class="i3">Addressin’ daily;</p> +<p>An’ up the rude, unbieldy track</p> + <p class="i3">O’ life, gang gaily.</p> + +<p class="s">What you would like’s a palace ha’,</p> +<p>Or Sinday parlour dink an’ braw</p> +<p>Wi’ a’ things ordered in a raw</p> + <p class="i3">By denty leddies.</p> +<p>Weel, then, ye canna hae’t: that’s a’</p> + <p class="i3">That to be said is.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ since at life ye’ve ta’en the grue,</p> +<p>An’ winna blithely hirsle through,</p> +<p>Ye’ve fund the very thing to do—</p> + <p class="i3">That’s to drink speerit;</p> +<p>An’ shüne we’ll hear the last o’ you—</p> + <p class="i3">An’ blithe to hear it!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page120"></a>120</span></p> + +<p class="s">The shoon ye coft, the life ye lead,</p> +<p>Ithers will heir when aince ye’re deid;</p> +<p>They’ll heir your tasteless bite o’ breid,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ find it sappy;</p> +<p>They’ll to your dulefü’ house succeed,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ there be happy.</p> + +<p class="s">As whan a glum an’ fractious wean</p> +<p>Has sat an’ sullened by his lane</p> +<p>Till, wi’ a rowstin’ skelp, he’s ta’en</p> + <p class="i3">An’ shoo’d to bed——</p> +<p>The ither bairns a’ fa’ to play’n’,</p> + <p class="i3">As gleg’s a gled.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<h3>THE COUNTERBLAST IRONICAL</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">It’s</span> strange that God should fash to frame</p> + <p class="i2">The yearth and lift sae hie,</p> +<p>An’ clean forget to explain the same</p> + <p class="i2">To a gentleman like me.</p> + +<p class="s">Thae gusty, donnered ither folk,</p> + <p class="i2">Their weird they weel may dree;</p> +<p>But why present a pig in a poke</p> + <p class="i2">To a gentleman like me?</p> + +<p class="s">Thae ither folk their parritch eat</p> + <p class="i2">An’ sup their sugared tea;</p> +<p>But the mind is no’ to be wyled wi’ meat</p> + <p class="i2">Wi’ a gentleman like me.</p> + +<p class="s">Thae ither folk, they court their joes</p> + <p class="i2">At gloamin’ on the lea;</p> +<p>But they’re made of a commoner clay, I suppose,</p> + <p class="i2">Than a gentleman like me.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page121"></a>121</span></p> + +<p class="s">Thae ither folk, for richt or wrang,</p> + <p class="i2">They suffer, bleed, or dee;</p> +<p>But a’ thir things are an emp’y sang</p> + <p class="i2">To a gentleman like me.</p> + +<p class="s">It’s a different thing that I demand,</p> + <p class="i2">Tho’ humble as can be—</p> +<p>A statement fair in my Maker’s hand</p> + <p class="i2">To a gentleman like me:</p> + +<p class="s">A clear account writ fair an’ broad,</p> + <p class="i2">An’ a plain apologie;</p> +<p>Or the deevil a ceevil word to God</p> + <p class="i2">From a gentleman like me.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>X</h5> + +<h3>THEIR LAUREATE TO AN ACADEMY CLASS</h3> +<h3>DINNER CLUB</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear</span> Thamson class, whaure’er I gang</p> +<p>It aye comes ower me wi’ a spang:</p> +<p><i>“Lordsake! thae Thamson lads—(deil hang</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Or else Lord mend them!)—</i></p> +<p><i>An’ that wanchancy annual sang</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>I ne’er can send them!”</i></p> + +<p class="s">Straucht, at the name, a trusty tyke,</p> +<p>My conscience girrs ahint the dyke;</p> +<p>Straucht on my hinderlands I fyke</p> + <p class="i3">To find a rhyme t’ ye;</p> +<p>Pleased—although mebbe no’ pleased-like—</p> + <p class="i3">To gie my time t’ ye.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page122"></a>122</span></p> + +<p class="s">“<i>Weel</i>,” an’ says you, wi’ heavin’ breist,</p> +<p><i>“Sae far, sae guid, but what’s the neist?</i></p> +<p><i>Yearly we gather to the feast,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>A’ hopefü’ men—</i></p> +<p><i>Yearly we skelloch ’Hang the beast—</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Nae sang again!’”</i></p> + +<p class="s">My lads, an’ what am I to say?</p> +<p>Ye shürely ken the Muse’s way:</p> +<p>Yestreen, as gleg’s a tyke—the day,</p> + <p class="i3">Thrawn like a cuddy:</p> +<p>Her conduc’, that to her’s a play,</p> + <p class="i3">Deith to a body.</p> + +<p class="s">Aft whan I sat an’ made my mane,</p> +<p>Aft whan I laboured burd-alane</p> +<p>Fishin’ for rhymes an’ findin’ nane,</p> + <p class="i3">Or nane were fit for ye—</p> +<p>Ye judged me cauld’s a chucky-stane—</p> + <p class="i3">No car’n’ a bit for ye!</p> + +<p class="s">But saw ye ne’er some pingein’ bairn</p> +<p>As weak as a pitaty-par’n’—</p> +<p>Less üsed wi’ guidin’ horse-shoe aim</p> + <p class="i3">Than steerin’ crowdie—</p> +<p>Packed aff his lane, by moss an’ cairn,</p> + <p class="i3">To ca’ the howdie.</p> + +<p class="s">Wae’s me, for the puir callant than!</p> +<p>He wambles like a poke o’ bran,</p> +<p>An’ the lowse rein, as hard’s he can,</p> + <p class="i3">Pu’s, trem’lin’ handit;</p> +<p>Till, blaff! upon his hinderlan’</p> + <p class="i3">Behauld him landit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page123"></a>123</span></p> + +<p class="s">Sic-like—I awn the weary fac’—</p> +<p>Whan on my muse the gate I tak’,</p> +<p>An’ see her gleed e’e raxin’ back</p> + <p class="i3">To keek ahint her;—</p> +<p>To me, the brig o’ Heev’n gangs black</p> + <p class="i3">As blackest winter.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>“Lordsake! we’re aff,”</i> thinks I, <i>“but whaur?</i></p> +<p><i>On what abhorred an’ whinny scaur,</i></p> +<p><i>Or whammled in what sea o’ glaur,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Will she desert me?</i></p> +<p><i>An’ will she just disgrace? or waur—</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Will she no’ hurt me?”</i></p> + +<p class="s">Kittle the quære! But at least</p> +<p>The day I’ve backed the fashious beast,</p> +<p>While she, wi’ mony a spang an’ reist,</p> + <p class="i3">Flang heels ower bonnet;</p> +<p>An’ a’ triumphant—for your feast,</p> + <p class="i3">Hae! there’s your sonnet!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XI</h5> + +<h3>EMBRO HIE KIRK</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> Lord Himsel’ in former days</p> +<p>Waled out the proper tunes for praise</p> +<p>An’ named the proper kind o’ claes</p> + <p class="i3">For folk to preach in:</p> +<p>Preceese and in the chief o’ ways</p> + <p class="i3">Important teachin’.</p> + +<p class="s">He ordered a’ things late and air’;</p> +<p>He ordered folk to stand at prayer</p> +<p>(Although I canna just mind where</p> + <p class="i3">He gave the warnin’),</p> +<p>An’ pit pomatum on their hair</p> + <p class="i3">On Sabbath mornin’.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page124"></a>124</span></p> + +<p class="s">The hale o’ life by His commands</p> +<p>Was ordered to a body’s hands;</p> +<p>But see! this <i>corpus juris</i> stands</p> + <p class="i3">By a’ forgotten;</p> +<p>An’ God’s religion in a’ lands</p> + <p class="i3">Is deid an’ rotten.</p> + +<p class="s">While thus the lave o’ mankind’s lost,</p> +<p>O’ Scotland still God maks His boast—</p> +<p>Puir Scotland, on whase barren coast</p> + <p class="i3">A score or twa</p> +<p>Auld wives wi’ mutches an’ a hoast</p> + <p class="i3">Still keep His law.</p> + +<p class="s">In Scotland, a wheen canty, plain,</p> +<p>Douce, kintry-leevin’ folk retain</p> +<p>The Truth—or did so aince—alane</p> + <p class="i3">Of a’ men leevin’;</p> +<p>An’ noo just twa o’ them remain—</p> + <p class="i3">Just Begg an’ Niven.</p> + +<p class="s">For noo, unfaithfü’ to the Lord,</p> +<p>Auld Scotland joins the rebel horde;</p> +<p>Her human hymn-books on the board</p> + <p class="i3">She noo displays:</p> +<p>An’ Embro Hie Kirk’s been restored</p> + <p class="i3">In popish ways.</p> + +<p class="s">O <i>punctum temporis</i> for action</p> +<p>To a’ o’ the reformin’ faction,</p> +<p>If yet, by ony act or paction,</p> + <p class="i3">Thocht, word, or sermon,</p> +<p>This dark an’ damnable transaction</p> + <p class="i3">Micht yet determine!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page125"></a>125</span></p> + +<p class="s">For see—as Doctor Begg explains—</p> +<p>Hoo easy ’t’s düne! a pickle weans,</p> +<p>Wha in the Hie Street gaither stanes</p> + <p class="i3">By his instruction,</p> +<p>The uncovenantit, pentit panes</p> + <p class="i3">Ding to destruction.</p> + +<p class="s">Up, Niven, or ower late—an’ dash</p> +<p>Laigh in the glaur that carnal hash;</p> +<p>Let spires and pews wi’ gran’ stramash</p> + <p class="i3">Thegither fa’;</p> +<p>The rumlin’ kist o’ whustles smash</p> + <p class="i3">In pieces sma’.</p> + +<p class="s">Noo choose ye out a walie hammer;</p> +<p>About the knottit buttress clam’er;</p> +<p>Alang the steep roof stoyt an’ stammer,</p> + <p class="i3">A gate mischancy;</p> +<p>On the aul’ spire, the bells’ hie cha’mer,</p> + <p class="i3">Dance your bit dancie.</p> + +<p class="s">Ding, devel, dunt, destroy, an’ ruin,</p> +<p>Wi’ carnal stanes the square bestrewn’,</p> +<p>Till your loud chaps frae Kyle to Fruin,</p> + <p class="i3">Frae Hell to Heeven,</p> +<p>Tell the guid wark that baith are doin’—</p> + <p class="i3">Baith Begg an’ Niven.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XII</h5> + +<h3>THE SCOTSMAN’S RETURN FROM ABROAD</h3> + +<h6>IN A LETTER FROM MR. THOMSON TO MR. JOHNSTONE</h6> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> mony a foreign pairt I’ve been,</p> +<p>An’ mony an unco ferlie seen,</p> +<p>Since, Mr. Johnstone, you and I,</p> +<p>Last walkit upon Cocklerye.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page126"></a>126</span></p> +<p>Wi’ gleg, observant een, I pass’t</p> +<p>By sea an’ land, through East an’ Wast,</p> +<p>And still in ilka age an’ station</p> +<p>Saw naething but abomination.</p> +<p>In thir uncovenantit lands</p> +<p>The gangrel Scot uplifts his hands</p> +<p>At lack of a’ sectarian füsh’n,</p> +<p>An’ cauld religious destitütion.</p> +<p>He rins, puir man, frae place to place,</p> +<p>Tries a’ their graceless means o’ grace,</p> +<p>Preacher on preacher, kirk on kirk—</p> +<p>This yin a stot an’ thon a stirk—</p> +<p>A bletherin’ clan, no warth a preen.</p> +<p>As bad as Smith of Aiberdeen!</p> + +<p class="s">At last, across the weary faem,</p> +<p>Frae far, outlandish pairts I came.</p> +<p>On ilka side o’ me I fand</p> +<p>Fresh tokens o’ my native land.</p> +<p>Wi’ whatna joy I hailed them a’—</p> +<p>The hill-taps standin’ raw by raw,</p> +<p>The public-house, the Hielan’ birks,</p> +<p>And a’ the bonny U.P. kirks!</p> +<p>But maistly thee, the bluid o’ Scots,</p> +<p>Frae Maidenkirk to John o’ Groats!</p> +<p>The king o’ drinks, as I conceive it,</p> +<p>Talisker, Isla, or Glenlivet!</p> + +<p class="s">For after years wi’ a pockmantie</p> +<p>Frae Zanzibar to Alicante,</p> +<p>In mony a fash and sair affliction</p> +<p>I gie’t as my sincere conviction—</p> +<p>Of a’ their foreign tricks an’ pliskies,</p> +<p>I maist abominate their whiskies.</p> +<p>Nae doot, themsel’s, they ken it weel,</p> +<p>An’ wi’ a hash o’ leemon peel,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page127"></a>127</span></p> +<p>And ice an’ siccan filth, they ettle</p> +<p>The stawsome kind o’ goo to settle</p> +<p>Sic wersh apothecary’s broos wi’</p> +<p>As Scotsmen scorn to fyle their moo’s wi’.</p> + +<p class="s">An’, man, I was a blithe hame-comer</p> +<p>Whan first I syndit out my rummer.</p> +<p>Ye should hae seen me then, wi’ care</p> +<p>The less important pairts prepare;</p> +<p>Syne, weel contentit wi’ it a’,</p> +<p>Pour in the speerits wi’ a jaw!</p> +<p>I didna drink, I didna speak,—</p> +<p>I only snowkit up the reek.</p> +<p>I was sae pleased therein to paidle,</p> +<p>I sat an’ plowtered wi’ my ladle.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ blithe was I, the morrow’s morn,</p> +<p>To daunder through the stookit corn,</p> +<p>And after a’ my strange mishanters</p> +<p>Sit doun amang my ain dissenters</p> +<p>An’, man, it was a joy to me</p> +<p>The pu’pit an’ the pews to see,</p> +<p>The pennies dirlin’ in the plate,</p> +<p>The elders lookin’ on in state;</p> +<p>An’ ’mang the first, as it befell,</p> +<p>Wha should I see, sir, but yoursel’!</p> + +<p class="s">I was, and I will no’ deny it,</p> +<p>At the first gliff a hantle tryit</p> +<p>To see yoursel’ in sic a station—</p> +<p>It seemed a doubtfü’ dispensation.</p> +<p>The feelin’ was a mere digression;</p> +<p>For shüne I understood the session,</p> +<p>An’ mindin’ Aiken an’ M’Neil,</p> +<p>I wondered they had düne sae weel.</p> +<p>I saw I had mysel’ to blame;</p> +<p>For had I but remained at hame,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page128"></a>128</span></p> +<p>Aiblins—though no ava’ deservin’ ’t—</p> +<p>They micht hae named your humble servant.</p> + +<p class="s">The kirk was filled, the door was steiked;</p> +<p>Up to the pu’pit aince I keeked;</p> +<p>I was mair pleased than I can tell—</p> +<p>It was the minister himsel’!</p> +<p>Proud, proud was I to see his face,</p> +<p>After sae lang awa’ frae grace.</p> +<p>Pleased as I was, I’m no’ denyin’</p> +<p>Some maitters were not edifyin’;</p> +<p>For first I fand—an’ here was news!—</p> +<p>Mere hymn-books cockin’ in the pews—</p> +<p>A humanised abomination,</p> +<p>Unfit for ony congregation.</p> +<p>Syne, while I still was on the tenter,</p> +<p>I scunnered at the new prezentor;</p> +<p>I thocht him gesterin’ an’ cauld—</p> +<p>A sair declension frae the auld.</p> +<p>Syne, as though a’ the faith was wreckit,</p> +<p>The prayer was not what I’d exspeckit.</p> +<p>Himsel’, as it appeared to me,</p> +<p>Was no’ the man he üsed to be.</p> +<p>But just as I was growin’ vext</p> +<p>He waled a maist judeecious text,</p> +<p>An’, launchin’ into his prelections,</p> +<p>Swoopt, wi’ a skirl, on a’ defections.</p> + +<p class="s">O what a gale was on my speerit</p> +<p>To hear the p’ints o’ doctrine clearit,</p> +<p>And a’ the horrors o’ damnation</p> +<p>Set furth wi’ faithfü’ ministration!</p> +<p>Nae shauchlin’ testimony here—</p> +<p>We were a’ damned, an’ that was clear.</p> +<p>I owned, wi’ gratitude an’ wonder,</p> +<p>He was a pleesure to sit under.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page129"></a>129</span></p> +<h5>XIII</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Late</span> in the nicht in bed I lay,</p> +<p>The winds were at their weary play,</p> +<p>An’ tirlin’ wa’s an’ skirlin’ wae</p> + <p class="i3">Through Heev’n they battered;—</p> +<p>On-ding o’ hail, on-blaff o’ spray,</p> + <p class="i3">The tempest blattered.</p> + +<p class="s">The masoned house it dinled through;</p> +<p>It dung the ship, it cowped the coo;</p> +<p>The rankit aiks it overthrew,</p> + <p class="i3">Had braved a’ weathers;</p> +<p>The strang sea-gleds it took an’ blew</p> + <p class="i3">Awa’ like feethers.</p> + +<p class="s">The thrawes o’ fear on a’ were shed,</p> +<p>An’ the hair rose, an’ slumber fled,</p> +<p>An’ lichts were lit an’ prayers were said</p> + <p class="i3">Through a’ the kintry;</p> +<p>An’ the cauld terror clum in bed</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ a’ an’ sindry.</p> + +<p class="s">To hear in the pit-mirk on hie</p> +<p>The brangled collieshangie flie,</p> +<p>The warl’, they thocht, wi’ land an’ sea,</p> + <p class="i3">Itsel’ wad cowpit;</p> +<p>An’ for auld airn, the smashed débris</p> + <p class="i3">By God be rowpit.</p> + +<p class="s">Meanwhile frae far Aldeboran</p> +<p>To folks wi’ talescopes in han’,</p> +<p>O’ ships that cowpit, winds that ran,</p> + <p class="i3">Nae sign was seen,</p> +<p>But the wee warl’ in sunshine span</p> + <p class="i3">As bricht’s a preen.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page130"></a>130</span></p> + +<p class="s">I, tae, by God’s especial grace,</p> +<p>Dwall denty in a bieldy place,</p> +<p>Wi’ hosened feet, wi’ shaven face,</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ dacent mainners:</p> +<p>A grand example to the race</p> + <p class="i3">O’ tautit sinners!</p> + +<p class="s">The wind may blaw, the heathen rage,</p> +<p>The deil may start on the rampage;—</p> +<p>The sick in bed, the thief in cage—</p> + <p class="i3">What’s a’ to me?</p> +<p>Cosh in my house, a sober sage,</p> + <p class="i3">I sit an’ see.</p> + +<p class="s">An’ whiles the bluid spangs to my bree,</p> +<p>To lie sae saft, to live sae free,</p> +<p>While better men maun do an’ die</p> + <p class="i3">In unco places.</p> +<p>“<i>Whaur’s God?</i>” I cry, an’ “<i>Whae is me</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>To hae sic graces?</i>”</p> + +<p class="s">I mind the fecht the sailors keep,</p> +<p>But fire or can’le, rest or sleep,</p> +<p>In darkness an’ the muckle deep;</p> + <p class="i3">An’ mind beside</p> +<p>The herd that on the hills o’ sheep</p> + <p class="i3">Has wandered wide.</p> + +<p class="s">I mind me on the hoastin’ weans—</p> +<p>The penny joes on causey-stanes—</p> +<p>The auld folk wi’ the crazy banes,</p> + <p class="i3">Baith auld an’ puir,</p> +<p>That aye maun thole the winds an’ rains</p> + <p class="i3">An’ labour sair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page131"></a>131</span></p> + +<p class="s">An’ whiles I’m kind o’ pleased a blink,</p> +<p>An’ kind o’ fleyed forby, to think,</p> +<p>For a’ my rowth o’ meat an’ drink</p> + <p class="i3">An’ waste o’ crumb,</p> +<p>I’ll mebbe have to thole wi’ skink</p> + <p class="i3">In Kingdom Come.</p> + +<p class="s">For God whan jowes the Judgment bell</p> +<p>Wi’ His ain Hand, His Leevin’ Sel’,</p> +<p>Sall ryve the guid (as Prophets tell)</p> + <p class="i3">Frae them that had it;</p> +<p>And in the reamin’ pat o’ Hell,</p> + <p class="i3">The rich be scaddit.</p> + +<p class="s">O Lord, if this indeed be sae,</p> +<p>Let daw’ that sair an’ happy day!</p> +<p>Again the warl’, grawn auld an’ grey,</p> + <p class="i3">Up wi’ your aixe!</p> +<p>An’ let the puir enjoy their play—</p> + <p class="i3">I’ll thole my paiks.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIV</h5> + +<h3>MY CONSCIENCE!</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Of</span> a’ the ills that flesh can fear,</p> +<p>The loss o’ frien’s, the lack o’ gear,</p> +<p>A yowlin’ tyke, a glandered mear,</p> + <p class="i3">A lassie’s nonsense—</p> +<p>There’s just ae thing I canna bear,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ that’s my conscience.</p> + +<p class="s">Whan day (an’ a’ excüse) has gane,</p> +<p>An’ wark is düne, and duty’s plain,</p> +<p>An’ to my chalmer a’ my lane</p> + <p class="i3">I creep apairt,</p> +<p>My conscience! hoo the yammerin’ pain</p> + <p class="i3">Stends to my heart!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page132"></a>132</span></p> + +<p class="s">A’ day wi’ various ends in view,</p> +<p>The hairsts o’ time I had to pu’,</p> +<p>An’ made a hash wad staw a soo,</p> + <p class="i3">Let be a man!—</p> +<p>My conscience! whan my han’s were fu’,</p> + <p class="i3">Whaur were ye than?</p> + +<p class="s">An’ there were a’ the lures o’ life,</p> +<p>There pleesure skirlin’ on the fife,</p> +<p>There anger, wi’ the hotchin’ knife</p> + <p class="i3">Ground shairp in Hell—</p> +<p>My conscience!—you that’s like a wife!—</p> + <p class="i3">Whaur was yoursel’?</p> + +<p class="s">I ken it fine: just waitin’ here,</p> +<p>To gar the evil waur appear,</p> +<p>To clart the guid, confüse the clear,</p> + <p class="i3">Misca’ the great,</p> +<p>My conscience! an’ to raise a steer</p> + <p class="i3">Whan a’s ower late.</p> + +<p class="s">Sic-like, some tyke grawn auld and blind,</p> +<p>Whan thieves brok’ through the gear to p’ind,</p> +<p>Has lain his dozened length an’ grinned</p> + <p class="i3">At the disaster;</p> +<p>An’ the morn’s mornin’, wud’s the wind,</p> + <p class="i3">Yokes on his master.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page133"></a>133</span></p> +<h5>XV</h5> + +<h3>TO DOCTOR JOHN BROWN</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr f90"> + +<p><i>Whan the dear doctor, dear to a’,</i></p> +<p><i>Was still among us here belaw,</i></p> +<p><i>I set my pipes his praise to blaw</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Wi’ a’ my speerit;</i></p> +<p><i>But noo, dear doctor! he’s awa’</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>An’ ne’er can hear it.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="s"><span class="sc">By</span> Lyne and Tyne, by Thames and Tees,</p> +<p>By a’ the various river Dee’s,</p> +<p>In Mars and Manors ’yont the seas</p> + <p class="i3">Or here at hame,</p> +<p>Whaure’er there’s kindly folk to please,</p> + <p class="i3">They ken your name.</p> + +<p class="s">They ken your name, they ken your tyke,</p> +<p>They ken the honey from your byke;</p> +<p>But mebbe after a’ your fyke,</p> + <p class="i3">(The trüth to tell)</p> +<p>It’s just your honest Rab they like,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ no’ yoursel’.</p> + +<p class="s">As at the gowff, some canny play’r</p> +<p>Should tee a common ba’ wi’ care—</p> +<p>Should flourish and deleever fair</p> + <p class="i3">His souple shintie—</p> +<p>An’ the ba’ rise into the air,</p> + <p class="i3">A leevin’ lintie:</p> + +<p class="s">Sae in the game we writers play,</p> +<p>There comes to some a bonny day,</p> +<p>When a dear ferlie shall repay</p> + <p class="i3">Their years o’ strife,</p> +<p>An’ like your Rab, their things o’ clay</p> + <p class="i3">Spreid wings o’ life.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page134"></a>134</span></p> + +<p class="s">Ye scarce deserved it, I’m afraid—</p> +<p>You that had never learned the trade,</p> +<p>But just some idle mornin’ strayed</p> + <p class="i3">Into the schüle,</p> +<p>An’ picked the fiddle up an’ played</p> + <p class="i3">Like Neil himsel’.</p> + +<p class="s">Your e’e was gleg, your fingers dink;</p> +<p>Ye didna fash yoursel’ to think,</p> +<p>But wove, as fast as puss can link,</p> + <p class="i3">Your denty wab:—</p> +<p>Ye stapped your pen into the ink,</p> + <p class="i3">An’ there was Rab!</p> + +<p class="s">Sinsyne, whaure’er your fortune lay</p> +<p>By dowie den, by canty brae,</p> +<p>Simmer an’ winter, nicht an’ day,</p> + <p class="i3">Rab was aye wi’ ye;</p> +<p>An’ a’ the folk on a’ the way</p> + <p class="i3">Were blithe to see ye.</p> + +<p class="s">O sir, the gods are kind indeed,</p> +<p>An’ hauld ye for an honoured heid,</p> +<p>That for a wee bit clarkit screed</p> + <p class="i3">Sae weel reward ye,</p> +<p>An’ lend—puir Rabbie bein’ deid—</p> + <p class="i3">His ghaist to guard ye.</p> + +<p class="s">For though, whaure’er yoursel’ may be,</p> +<p>We’ve just to turn an’ glisk a wee,</p> +<p>An’ Rab at heel we’re shüre to see</p> + <p class="i3">Wi’ gladsome caper:—</p> +<p>The bogle of a bogle, he—</p> + <p class="i3">A ghaist o’ paper!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page135"></a>135</span></p> + +<p class="s">And as the auld-farrant hero sees</p> +<p>In Hell a bogle Hercules,</p> +<p>Pit there the lesser deid to please,</p> + <p class="i3">While he himsel’</p> +<p>Dwalls wi’ the muckle gods at ease</p> + <p class="i3">Far raised frae Hell:</p> + +<p class="s">Sae the true Rabbie far has gane</p> +<p>On kindlier business o’ his ain</p> +<p>Wi’ aulder frien’s; an’ his breist-bane</p> + <p class="i3">An’ stumpie tailie,</p> +<p>He birstles at a new hearth-stane</p> + <p class="i3">By James and Ailie.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVI</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">It’s</span> an owercome sooth for age an’ youth,</p> + <p class="i1">And it brooks wi’ nae denial,</p> +<p>That the dearest friends are the auldest friends,</p> + <p class="i1">And the young are just on trial.</p> + +<p class="s">There’s a rival bauld wi’ young an’ auld,</p> + <p class="i1">And it’s him that has bereft me;</p> +<p>For the sürest friends are the auldest friends,</p> + <p class="i1">And the maist o’ mine’s hae left me.</p> + +<p class="s">There are kind hearts still, for friends to fill</p> + <p class="i1">And fools to take and break them;</p> +<p>But the nearest friends are the auldest friends,</p> + <p class="i1">And the grave’s the place to seek them.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page136"></a>136</span></p> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page137"></a>137</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>BALLADS</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>THE SONG OF RAHÉRO</h3> + +<h4>A LEGEND OF TAHITI</h4> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page138"></a>138</span></p> +<h5><i>TO</i></h5> +<h5><i>ORI A ORI</i></h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><i>Ori, my brother in the island mode,</i></p> +<p><i>In every tongue and meaning much my friend,</i></p> +<p><i>This story of your country and your clan,</i></p> +<p><i>In your loved house, your too much honoured guest,</i></p> +<p><i>I made in English. Take it, being done;</i></p> +<p><i>And let me sign it with the name you gave.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<p class="sign"><i>TERIITERA</i>.</p> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page139"></a>139</span></p> +<h2>BALLADS</h2> + +<h4>THE SONG OF RAHÉRO</h4> + +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>THE SLAYING OF TÁMATÉA</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">It</span> fell in the days of old, as the men of Taiárapu tell,</p> +<p>A youth went forth to the fishing, and fortune favoured him well.</p> +<p>Támatéa his name: gullible, simple, and kind.</p> +<p>Comely of countenance, nimble of body, empty of mind,</p> +<p>His mother ruled him and loved him beyond the wont of a wife,</p> +<p>Serving the lad for eyes and living herself in his life.</p> +<p>Alone from the sea and the fishing came Támatéa the fair,</p> +<p>Urging his boat to the beach, and the mother awaited him there.</p> +<p>—“Long may you live!” said she. “Your fishing has sped to a wish.</p> +<p>And now let us choose for the king the fairest of all your fish.</p> +<p>For fear inhabits the palace and grudging grows in the land,</p> +<p>Marked is the sluggardly foot and marked the niggardly hand,</p> +<p>The hours and the miles are counted, the tributes numbered and weighed,</p> +<p>And woe to him that comes short, and woe to him that delayed!”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page140"></a>140</span></p> +<p>So spoke on the beach the mother, and counselled the wiser thing.</p> +<p>For Rahéro stirred in the country and secretly mined the king.</p> +<p>Nor were the signals wanting of how the leaven wrought,</p> +<p>In the cords of obedience loosed and the tributes grudgingly brought.</p> +<p>And when last to the temple of Oro the boat with the victim sped,</p> +<p>And the priest uncovered the basket and looked on the face of the dead,</p> +<p>Trembling fell upon all at sight of an ominous thing,</p> +<p>For there was the aito<a name="FnAnchor_1c" href="#Footnote_1c"><span class="sp">1</span></a> dead, and he of the house of the king.</p> + +<p class="s">So spake on the beach the mother, matter worthy of note,</p> +<p>And wattled a basket well, and chose a fish from the boat;</p> +<p>And Támatéa the pliable shouldered the basket and went,</p> +<p>And travelled, and sang as he travelled, a lad that was well content.</p> +<p>Still the way of his going was round by the roaring coast,</p> +<p>Where the ring of the reef is broke and the trades run riot the most.</p> +<p>On his left, with smoke as of battle, the billows battered the land;</p> +<p>Unscalable, turreted mountains rose on the inner hand.</p> +<p>And cape, and village, and river, and vale, and mountain above,</p> +<p>Each had a name in the land for men to remember and love;</p> +<p>And never the name of a place, but lo! a song in its praise:</p> +<p>Ancient and unforgotten, songs of the earlier days</p> +<p>That the elders taught to the young, and at night, in the full of the moon,</p> +<p>Garlanded boys and maidens sang together in tune.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page141"></a>141</span></p> +<p>Támatéa the placable went with a lingering foot;</p> +<p>He sang as loud as a bird, he whistled hoarse as a flute;</p> +<p>He broiled in the sun, he breathed in the grateful shadow of trees,</p> +<p>In the icy stream of the rivers he waded over the knees;</p> +<p>And still in his empty mind crowded, a thousand-fold,</p> +<p>The deeds of the strong and the songs of the cunning heroes of old.</p> + +<p class="s">And now was he come to a place Taiárapu honoured the most,</p> +<p>Where a silent valley of woods debouched on the noisy coast,</p> +<p>Spewing a level river. There was a haunt of Pai.<a name="FnAnchor_2c" href="#Footnote_2c"><span class="sp">2</span></a></p> +<p>There, in his potent youth, when his parents drove him to die,</p> +<p>Honoura lived like a beast, lacking the lamp and the fire,</p> +<p>Washed by the rains of the trade and clotting his hair in the mire;</p> +<p>And there, so mighty his hands, he bent the tree to his foot—</p> +<p>So keen the spur of his hunger, he plucked it naked of fruit.</p> +<p>There, as she pondered the clouds for the shadow of coming ills,</p> +<p>Ahupu, the woman of song, walked on high on the hills.</p> + +<p class="s">Of these was Rahéro sprung, a man of a godly race;</p> +<p>And inherited cunning of spirit, and beauty of body and face.</p> +<p>Of yore in his youth, as an aito, Rahéro wandered the land,</p> +<p>Delighting maids with his tongue, smiting men with his hand.</p> +<p>Famous he was in his youth; but before the midst of his life</p> +<p>Paused, and fashioned a song of farewell to glory and strife.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page142"></a>142</span></p> + +<p class="s i1"><i>House of mine</i> (it went), <i>house upon the sea,</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>Belov’d of all my fathers, more belov’d by me!</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>Vale of the strong Honoura, deep ravine of Pai,</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>Again in your woody summits I hear the trade-wind cry.</i></p> + +<p class="s i1"><i>House of mine, in your walls, strong sounds the sea,</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>Of all sounds on earth, dearest sound to me.</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>I have heard the applause of men, I have heard it arise and die:</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>Sweeter now in my house I hear the trade-wind cry.</i></p> + +<p class="s">These were the words of his singing, other the thought of his heart;</p> +<p>For secret desire of glory vexed him, dwelling apart.</p> +<p>Lazy and crafty he was, and loved to lie in the sun,</p> +<p>And loved the cackle of talk and the true word uttered in fun;</p> +<p>Lazy he was, his roof was ragged, his table was lean,</p> +<p>And the fish swam safe in his sea, and he gathered the near and the green.</p> +<p>He sat in his house and laughed, but he loathed the king of the land,</p> +<p>And he uttered the grudging word under the covering hand.</p> +<p>Treason spread from his door; and he looked for a day to come,</p> +<p>A day of the crowding people, a day of the summoning drum,</p> +<p>When the vote should be taken, the king be driven forth in disgrace,</p> +<p>And Rahéro, the laughing and lazy, sit and rule in his place.</p> + +<p class="s">Here Támatéa came, and beheld the house on the brook;</p> +<p>And Rahéro was there by the way and covered an oven to cook.<a name="FnAnchor_3c" href="#Footnote_3c"><span class="sp">3</span></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page143"></a>143</span></p> +<p>Naked he was to the loins, but the tattoo covered the lack,</p> +<p>And the sun and the shadow of palms dappled his muscular back.</p> +<p>Swiftly he lifted his head at the fall of the coming feet,</p> +<p>And the water sprang in his mouth with a sudden desire of meat:</p> +<p>For he marked the basket carried, covered from flies and the sun;<a name="FnAnchor_4c" href="#Footnote_4c"><span class="sp">4</span></a></p> +<p>And Rahéro buried his fire, but the meat in his house was done.</p> + +<p class="s">Forth he stepped; and took, and delayed the boy, by the hand;</p> +<p>And vaunted the joys of meat and the ancient ways of the land:</p> +<p>—“Our sires of old in Taiárapu, they that created the race,</p> +<p>Ate ever with eager hand, nor regarded season or place,</p> +<p>Ate in the boat at the oar, on the way afoot; and at night</p> +<p>Arose in the midst of dreams to rummage the house for a bite.</p> +<p>It is good for the youth in his turn to follow the way of the sire;</p> +<p>And behold how fitting the time! for here do I cover my fire.”</p> +<p>—“I see the fire for the cooking, but never the meat to cook,”</p> +<p>Said Támatéa.—“Tut!” said Rahéro. “Here in the brook,</p> +<p>And there in the tumbling sea, the fishes are thick as flies,</p> +<p>Hungry like healthy men, and like pigs for savour and size:</p> +<p>Crayfish crowding the river, sea-fish thronging the sea.”</p> +<p>—“Well, it may be,” says the other, “and yet be nothing to me.</p> +<p>Fain would I eat, but alas! I have needful matter in hand,</p> +<p>Since I carry my tribute of fish to the jealous king of the land.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page144"></a>144</span></p> + +<p class="s">Now at the word a light sprang in Rahéro’s eyes.</p> +<p>“I will gain me a dinner,” thought he, “and lend the king a surprise.”</p> +<p>And he took the lad by the arm, as they stood by the side of the track,</p> +<p>And smiled, and rallied, and flattered, and pushed him forward and back.</p> +<p>It was “You that sing like a bird, I never have heard you sing,”</p> +<p>And “The lads when I was a lad were none so feared of a king.</p> +<p>And of what account is an hour, when the heart is empty of guile?</p> +<p>But come, and sit in the house and laugh with the women awhile;</p> +<p>And I will but drop my hook, and behold! the dinner made.”</p> + +<p class="s">So Támatéa the pliable hung up his fish in the shade</p> +<p>On a tree by the side of the way; and Rahéro carried him in,</p> +<p>Smiling as smiles the fowler when flutters the bird to the gin,</p> +<p>And chose him a shining hook,<a name="FnAnchor_5c" href="#Footnote_5c"><span class="sp">5</span></a> and viewed it with sedulous eye,</p> +<p>And breathed and burnished it well on the brawn of his naked thigh,</p> +<p>And set a mat for the gull, and bade him be merry and bide,</p> +<p>Like a man concerned for his guest, and the fishing, and nothing beside.</p> + +<p class="s">Now when Rahéro was forth, he paused and hearkened, and heard</p> +<p>The gull jest in the house and the women laugh at his word;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page145"></a>145</span></p> +<p>And stealthily crossed to the side of the way, to the shady place</p> +<p>Where the basket hung on a mango; and craft transfigured his face.</p> +<p>Deftly he opened the basket, and took of the fat of the fish,</p> +<p>The cut of kings and chieftains, enough for a goodly dish.</p> +<p>This he wrapped in a leaf, set on the fire to cook,</p> +<p>And buried; and next the marred remains of the tribute he took,</p> +<p>And doubled and packed them well, and covered the basket close.</p> +<p>—“There is a buffet, my king,” quoth he, “and a nauseous dose!”—</p> +<p>And hung the basket again in the shade, in a cloud of flies;</p> +<p>—“And there is a sauce to your dinner, king of the crafty eyes!”</p> + +<p class="s">Soon as the oven was open, the fish smelt excellent good.</p> +<p>In the shade, by the house of Rahéro, down they sat to their food,</p> +<p>And cleared the leaves,<a name="FnAnchor_6c" href="#Footnote_6c"><span class="sp">6</span></a> in silence, or uttered a jest and laughed</p> +<p>And raising the cocoa-nut bowls, buried their faces and quaffed.</p> +<p>But chiefly in silence they ate; and soon as the meal was done,</p> +<p>Rahéro feigned to remember and measured the hour by the sun</p> +<p>And “Támatéa,” quoth he, “it is time to be jogging, my lad.”</p> + +<p class="s">So Támatéa arose, doing ever the thing he was bade,</p> +<p>And carelessly shouldered the basket, and kindly saluted his host;</p> +<p>And again the way of his going was round by the roaring coast.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page146"></a>146</span></p> +<p>Long he went; and at length was aware of a pleasant green,</p> +<p>And the stems and shadows of palms, and roofs of lodges between.</p> +<p>There sate, in the door of his palace, the king on a kingly seat,</p> +<p>And aitos stood armed around, and the yottowas<a name="FnAnchor_7c" href="#Footnote_7c"><span class="sp">7</span></a> sat at his feet.</p> +<p>But fear was a worm in his heart: fear darted his eyes;</p> +<p>And he probed men’s faces for treasons and pondered their speech for lies.</p> +<p>To him came Támatéa, the basket slung in his hand,</p> +<p>And paid him the due obeisance standing as vassals stand.</p> +<p>In silence hearkened the king, and closed the eyes in his face,</p> +<p>Harbouring odious thoughts and the baseless fears of the base;</p> +<p>In silence accepted the gift and sent the giver away.</p> +<p>So Támatéa departed, turning his back on the day.</p> + +<p class="s">And lo! as the king sat brooding, a rumour rose in the crowd;</p> +<p>The yottowas nudged and whispered, the commons murmured aloud;</p> +<p>Tittering fell upon all at sight of the impudent thing,</p> +<p>At the sight of a gift unroyal flung in the face of a king.</p> +<p>And the face of the king turned white and red with anger and shame</p> +<p>In their midst; and the heart in his body was water and then was flame;</p> +<p>Till of a sudden, turning, he gripped an aito hard,</p> +<p>A youth that stood with his ómare,<a name="FnAnchor_8c" href="#Footnote_8c"><span class="sp">8</span></a> one of the daily guard,</p> +<p>And spat in his ear a command, and pointed and uttered a name,</p> +<p>And hid in the shade of the house his impotent anger and shame.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page147"></a>147</span></p> + +<p class="s">Now Támatéa the fool was far on his homeward way,</p> +<p>The rising night in his face, behind him the dying day.</p> +<p>Rahéro saw him go by, and the heart of Rahéro was glad,</p> +<p>Devising shame to the king and nowise harm to the lad;</p> +<p>And all that dwelt by the way saw and saluted him well,</p> +<p>For he had the face of a friend and the news of the town to tell;</p> +<p>And pleased with the notice of folk, and pleased that his journey was done,</p> +<p>Támatéa drew homeward, turning his back to the sun.</p> + +<p class="s">And now was the hour of the bath in Taiárapu: far and near</p> +<p>The lovely laughter of bathers rose and delighted his ear.</p> +<p>Night massed in the valleys; the sun on the mountain coast</p> +<p>Struck, end-long; and above the clouds embattled their host,</p> +<p>And glowed and gloomed on the heights; and the heads of the palms were gems,</p> +<p>And far to the rising eve extended the shade of their stems;</p> +<p>And the shadow of Támatéa hovered already at home.</p> + +<p class="s">And sudden the sound of one coming and running light as the foam</p> +<p>Struck on his ear; and he turned, and lo! a man on his track,</p> +<p>Girded and armed with an ómare, following hard at his back.</p> +<p>At a bound the man was upon him;—and, or ever a word was said,</p> +<p>The loaded end of the ómare fell and laid him dead.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page148"></a>148</span></p> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>THE VENGING OF TÁMATÉA</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Thus</span> was Rahéro’s treason; thus and no further it sped.</p> +<p>The king sat safe in his place and a kindly fool was dead.</p> + +<p class="s">But the mother of Támatéa arose with death in her eyes.</p> +<p>All night long, and the next, Taiárapu rang with her cries.</p> +<p>As when a babe in the wood turns with a chill of doubt</p> +<p>And perceives nor home, nor friends, for the trees have closed her about,</p> +<p>The mountain rings and her breast is torn with the voice of despair:</p> +<p>So the lion-like woman idly wearied the air</p> +<p>For a while, and pierced men’s hearing in vain, and wounded their hearts.</p> +<p>But as when the weather changes at sea, in dangerous parts,</p> +<p>And sudden the hurricane wrack unrolls up the front of the sky,</p> +<p>At once the ship lies idle, the sails hang silent on high,</p> +<p>The breath of the wind that blew is blown out like the flame of a lamp,</p> +<p>And the silent armies of death draw near with inaudible tramp:</p> +<p>So sudden, the voice of her weeping ceased; in silence she rose</p> +<p>And passed from the house of her sorrow, a woman clothed with repose,</p> +<p>Carrying death in her breast and sharpening death in her hand.</p> + +<p class="s">Hither she went and thither in all the coasts of the land.</p> +<p>They tell that she feared not to slumber alone, in the dead of night,</p> +<p>In accursed places; beheld, unblenched, the ribbon of light<a name="FnAnchor_9c" href="#Footnote_9c"><span class="sp">9</span></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page149"></a>149</span></p> +<p>Spin from temple to temple; guided the perilous skiff,</p> +<p>Abhorred not the paths of the mountain and trod the verge of the cliff;</p> +<p>From end to end of the island, thought not the distance long,</p> +<p>But forth from king to king carried the tale of her wrong.</p> +<p>To king after king, as they sat in the palace door, she came,</p> +<p>Claiming kinship, declaiming verses, naming her name</p> +<p>And the names of all of her fathers; and still, with a heart on the rack,</p> +<p>Jested to capture a hearing and laughed when they jested back;</p> +<p>So would deceive them a while, and change and return in a breath,</p> +<p>And on all the men of Vaiau imprecate instant death;</p> +<p>And tempt her kings—for Vaiau was a rich and prosperous land,</p> +<p>And flatter—for who would attempt it but warriors mighty of hand?</p> +<p>And change in a breath again and rise in a strain of song,</p> +<p>Invoking the beaten drums, beholding the fall of the strong,</p> +<p>Calling the fowls of the air to come and feast on the dead.</p> +<p>And they held the chin in silence, and heard her, and shook the head;</p> +<p>For they knew the men of Taiárapu famous in battle and feast,</p> +<p>Marvellous eaters and smiters: the men of Vaiau not least.</p> +<p>To the land of the Námunu-úra, to Paea,<a name="FnAnchor_10c" href="#Footnote_10c"><span class="sp">10</span></a> at length she came,</p> +<p>To men who were foes to the Tevas and hated their race and name.</p> +<p>There was she well received, and spoke with Hiopa the king.<a name="FnAnchor_11c" href="#Footnote_11c"><span class="sp">11</span></a></p> +<p>And Hiopa listened, and weighed, and wisely considered the thing.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page150"></a>150</span></p> +<p>“Here in the back of the isle we dwell in a sheltered place,”</p> +<p>Quoth he to the woman, “in quiet, a weak and peaceable race.</p> +<p>But far in the teeth of the wind lofty Taiárapu lies;</p> +<p>Strong blows the wind of the trade on its seaward face, and cries</p> +<p>Aloud in the top of arduous mountains, and utters its song</p> +<p>In green continuous forests. Strong is the wind, and strong</p> +<p>And fruitful and hardy the race, famous in battle and feast,</p> +<p>Marvellous eaters and smiters: the men of Vaiau not least.</p> +<p>Now hearken to me, my daughter, and hear a word of the wise:</p> +<p>How a strength goes linked with a weakness, two by two, like the eyes.</p> +<p>They can wield the ómare well and cast the javelin far;</p> +<p>Yet are they greedy and weak as the swine and the children are.</p> +<p>Plant we, then, here at Paea a garden of excellent fruits;</p> +<p>Plant we bananas and kava and taro, the king of roots;</p> +<p>Let the pigs in Paea be tapu<a name="FnAnchor_12c" href="#Footnote_12c"><span class="sp">12</span></a> and no man fish for a year;</p> +<p>And of all the meat in Tahiti gather we threefold here.</p> +<p>So shall the fame of our plenty fill the island and so,</p> +<p>At last, on the tongue of rumour, go where we wish it to go.</p> +<p>Then shall the pigs of Taiárapu raise their snouts in the air;</p> +<p>But we sit quiet and wait, as the fowler sits by the snare,</p> +<p>And tranquilly fold our hands, till the pigs come nosing the food:</p> +<p>But meanwhile build us a house of Trotéa, the stubborn wood,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page151"></a>151</span></p> +<p>Bind it with incombustible thongs, set a roof to the room,</p> +<p>Too strong for the hands of a man to dissever or fire to consume;</p> +<p>And there, when the pigs come trotting, there shall the feast be spread,</p> +<p>There shall the eye of the morn enlighten the feasters dead.</p> +<p>So be it done; for I have a heart that pities your state,</p> +<p>And Nateva and Námunu-úra are fire and water for hate.”</p> + +<p class="s">All was done as he said, and the gardens prospered; and now</p> +<p>The fame of their plenty went out, and word of it came to Vaiau.</p> +<p>For the men of Námunu-úra sailed, to the windward far,</p> +<p>Lay in the offing by south where the towns of the Tevas are,</p> +<p>And cast overboard of their plenty; and lo! at the Tevas’ feet</p> +<p>The surf on all the beaches tumbled treasures of meat.</p> +<p>In the salt of the sea, a harvest tossed with the refluent foam;</p> +<p>And the children gleaned it in playing, and ate and carried it home;</p> +<p>And the elders stared and debated, and wondered and passed the jest,</p> +<p>But whenever a guest came by eagerly questioned the guest;</p> +<p>And little by little, from one to another, the word went round:</p> +<p>“In all the borders of Paea the victual rots on the ground,</p> +<p>And swine are plenty as rats. And now, when they fare to the sea,</p> +<p>The men of the Námunu-úra glean from under the tree</p> +<p>And load the canoe to the gunwale with all that is toothsome to eat;</p> +<p>And all day long on the sea the jaws are crushing the meat,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page152"></a>152</span></p> +<p>The steersman eats at the helm, the rowers munch at the oar,</p> +<p>And at length, when their bellies are full, overboard with the store!”</p> +<p>Now was the word made true, and soon as the bait was bare,</p> +<p>All the pigs of Taiárapu raised their snouts in the air.</p> +<p>Songs were recited, and kinship was counted, and tales were told</p> +<p>How war had severed of late but peace had cemented of old</p> +<p>The clans of the island. “To war,” said they, “now set we an end,</p> +<p>And hie to the Námunu-úra even as a friend to a friend.”</p> + +<p class="s">So judged, and a day was named; and soon as the morning broke,</p> +<p>Canoes were thrust in the sea, and the houses emptied of folk.</p> +<p>Strong blew the wind of the south, the wind that gathers the clan;</p> +<p>Along all the line of the reef the clamorous surges ran;</p> +<p>And the clouds were piled on the top of the island mountain-high,</p> +<p>A mountain throned on a mountain. The fleet of canoes swept by</p> +<p>In the midst, on the green lagoon, with a crew released from care,</p> +<p>Sailing an even water, breathing a summer air,</p> +<p>Cheered by a cloudless sun; and ever to left and right,</p> +<p>Bursting surge on the reef, drenching storms on the height.</p> +<p>So the folk of Vaiau sailed and were glad all day,</p> +<p>Coasting the palm-tree cape and crossing the populous bay</p> +<p>By all the towns of the Tevas; and still as they bowled along,</p> +<p>Boat would answer to boat with jest and laughter and song,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page153"></a>153</span></p> +<p>And the people of all the towns trooped to the sides of the sea,</p> +<p>And gazed from under the hand or sprang aloft on the tree</p> +<p>Hailing and cheering. Time failed them for more to do;</p> +<p>The holiday village careened to the wind, and was gone from view</p> +<p>Swift as a passing bird; and ever as onward it bore,</p> +<p>Like the cry of the passing bird, bequeathed its song to the shore—</p> +<p>Desirable laughter of maids and the cry of delight of the child.</p> +<p>And the gazer, left behind, stared at the wake and smiled.</p> +<p>By all the towns of the Tevas they went, and Pápara last,</p> +<p>The home of the chief, the place of muster in war; and passed</p> +<p>The march of the lands of the clan, to the lands of an alien folk.</p> +<p>And there, from the dusk of the shoreside palms, a column of smoke</p> +<p>Mounted and wavered and died in the gold of the setting sun,</p> +<p>“Paea!” they cried. “It is Paea.” And so was the voyage done.</p> + +<p class="s">In the early fall of the night Hiopa came to the shore,</p> +<p>And beheld and counted the comers, and lo, they were forty score;</p> +<p>The pelting feet of the babes that ran already and played,</p> +<p>The clean-lipped smile of the boy, the slender breasts of the maid,</p> +<p>And mighty limbs of women, stalwart mothers of men.</p> +<p>The sires stood forth unabashed; but a little back from his ken</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page154"></a>154</span></p> +<p>Clustered the scarcely nubile, the lads and maids, in a ring,</p> +<p>Fain of each other, afraid of themselves, aware of the king</p> +<p>And aping behaviour, but clinging together with hands and eyes,</p> +<p>With looks that were kind like kisses, and laughter tender as sighs.</p> +<p>There, too, the grandsire stood, raising his silver crest,</p> +<p>And the impotent hands of a suckling groped in his barren breast.</p> +<p>The childhood of love, the pair well married, the innocent brood,</p> +<p>The tale of the generations repeated and ever renewed—</p> +<p>Hiopa beheld them together, all the ages of man,</p> +<p>And a moment shook in his purpose.</p> + +<p class="s" style="padding-left: 6em;">But these were the foes of his clan,</p> +<p>And he trod upon pity, and came, and civilly greeted the king,</p> +<p>And gravely entreated Rahéro; and for all that could fight or sing,</p> +<p>And claimed a name in the land, had fitting phrases of praise:</p> +<p>But with all who were well-descended he spoke of the ancient days.</p> +<p>And “’Tis true,” said he, “that in Paea the victual rots on the ground;</p> +<p>But, friends, your number is many; and pigs must be hunted and found,</p> +<p>And the lads must troop to the mountains to bring the féis down,</p> +<p>And around the bowls of the kava cluster the maids of the town.</p> +<p>So, for to-night, sleep here; but king, common, and priest</p> +<p>To-morrow, in order due, shall sit with me in the feast.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page155"></a>155</span></p> +<p>Sleepless the live-long night, Hiopa’s followers toiled.</p> +<p>The pigs screamed and were slaughtered; the spars of the guest-house oiled,</p> +<p>The leaves spread on the floor. In many a mountain glen</p> +<p>The moon drew shadows of trees on the naked bodies of men</p> +<p>Plucking and bearing fruits; and in all the bounds of the town</p> +<p>Red glowed the cocoa-nut fires, and were buried and trodden down.</p> +<p>Thus did seven of the yottowas toil with their tale of the clan,</p> +<p>But the eighth wrought with his lads, hid from the sight of man.</p> +<p>In the deeps of the woods they laboured, piling the fuel high</p> +<p>In fagots, the load of a man, fuel seasoned and dry,</p> +<p>Thirsty to seize upon fire and apt to blurt into flame.</p> + +<p class="s">And now was the day of the feast. The forests, as morning came,</p> +<p>Tossed in the wind, and the peaks quaked in the blaze of the day—</p> +<p>And the cocoa-nuts showered on the ground, rebounding and rolling away:</p> +<p>A glorious morn for a feast, a famous wind for a fire.</p> +<p>To the hall of feasting Hiopa led them, mother and sire</p> +<p>And maid and babe in a tale, the whole of the holiday throng.</p> +<p>Smiling they came, garlanded green, not dreaming of wrong;</p> +<p>And for every three, a pig, tenderly cooked in the ground,</p> +<p>Waited; and féi, the staff of life, heaped in a mound</p> +<p>For each where he sat;—for each, bananas roasted and raw</p> +<p>Piled with a bountiful hand, as for horses hay and straw</p> +<p>Are stacked in a stable; and fish, the food of desire,<a name="FnAnchor_13c" href="#Footnote_13c"><span class="sp">13</span></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page156"></a>156</span></p> +<p>And plentiful vessels of sauce, and bread-fruit gilt in the fire;—</p> +<p>And kava was common as water. Feasts have there been ere now,</p> +<p>And many, but never a feast like that of the folk of Vaiau.</p> +<p>All day long they ate with the resolute greed of brutes,</p> +<p>And turned from the pigs to the fish, and again from the fish to the fruits,</p> +<p>And emptied the vessels of sauce, and drank of the kava deep;</p> +<p>Till the young lay stupid as stones, and the strongest nodded to sleep.</p> +<p>Sleep that was mighty as death and blind as a moonless night</p> +<p>Tethered them hand and foot; and their souls were drowned, and the light</p> +<p>Was cloaked from their eyes. Senseless together, the old and the young,</p> +<p>The fighter deadly to smite and the prater cunning of tongue,</p> +<p>The woman wedded and fruitful, inured to the pangs of birth,</p> +<p>And the maid that knew not of kisses, blindly sprawled on the earth.</p> +<p>From the hall Hiopa the king and his chiefs came stealthily forth.</p> + +<p class="s">Already the sun hung low and enlightened the peaks of the north;</p> +<p>But the wind was stubborn to die and blew as it blows at morn,</p> +<p>Showering the nuts in the dusk, and e’en as a banner is torn,</p> +<p>High on the peaks of the island, shattered the mountain cloud.</p> +<p>And now at once, at a signal, a silent, emulous crowd</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page157"></a>157</span></p> +<p>Set hands to the work of death, hurrying to and fro,</p> +<p>Like ants, to furnish the fagots, building them broad and low,</p> +<p>And piling them high and higher around the walls of the hall.</p> +<p>Silence persisted within, for sleep lay heavy on all</p> +<p>But the mother of Támatéa stood at Hiopa’s side,</p> +<p>And shook for terror and joy like a girl that is a bride,</p> +<p>Night fell on the toilers, and first Hiopa the wise</p> +<p>Made the round of the hose, visiting all with his eyes;</p> +<p>And all was piled to the eaves, and fuel blockaded the door;</p> +<p>And within, in the house beleaguered, slumbered the forty score.</p> + +<p class="s">Then was an aito despatched and came with fire in his hand,</p> +<p>And Hiopa took it.—“Within,” said he, “is the life of a land;</p> +<p>And behold! I breathe on the coal, I breathe on the dales of the east,</p> +<p>And silence falls on forest and shore; the voice of the feast</p> +<p>Is quenched, and the smoke of cooking; the roof-tree decays and falls</p> +<p>On the empty lodge, and the winds subvert deserted walls.”</p> + +<p class="s">Therewithal, to the fuel, he laid the glowing coal;</p> +<p>And the redness ran in the mass and burrowed within like a mole,</p> +<p>And copious smoke was conceived. But, as when a dam is to burst,</p> +<p>The water lips it and crosses in silver trickles at first,</p> +<p>And then, of a sudden, whelms and bears it away forthright;</p> +<p>So now, in a moment, the flame sprang and towered in the night,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page158"></a>158</span></p> +<p>And wrestled and roared in the wind, and high over house and tree,</p> +<p>Stood, like a streaming torch, enlightening land and sea.</p> + +<p class="s">But the mother of Támatéa threw her arms abroad,</p> +<p>“Pyre of my son,” she shouted, “debited vengeance of God,</p> +<p>Late, late, I behold you, yet I behold you at last,</p> +<p>And glory, beholding! For now are the days of my agony past,</p> +<p>The lust that famished my soul now eats and drinks its desire,</p> +<p>And they that encompassed my son shrivel alive in the fire.</p> +<p>Tenfold precious the vengeance that comes after lingering years!</p> +<p>Ye quenched the voice of my singer?—hark, in your dying ears,</p> +<p>The song of the conflagration! Ye left me a widow alone?</p> +<p>—Behold, the whole of your race consumes, sinew and bone</p> +<p>And torturing flesh together: man, mother, and maid</p> +<p>Heaped in a common shambles; and already, borne by the trade,</p> +<p>The smoke of your dissolution darkens the stars of night.”</p> + +<p class="s">Thus she spoke, and her stature grew in the people’s sight.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page159"></a>159</span></p> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>RAHÉRO</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Rahéro</span> was there in the hall asleep: beside him his wife,</p> +<p>Comely, a mirthful woman, one that delighted in life;</p> +<p>And a girl that was ripe for marriage, shy and sly as a mouse;</p> +<p>And a boy, a climber of trees: all the hopes of his house.</p> +<p>Unwary, with open hands, he slept in the midst of his folk,</p> +<p>And dreamed that he heard a voice crying without, and awoke,</p> +<p>Leaping blindly afoot like one from a dream that he fears.</p> +<p>A hellish glow and clouds were about him;—it roared in his ears</p> +<p>Like the sound of the cataract fall that plunges sudden and steep;</p> +<p>And Rahéro swayed as he stood, and his reason was still asleep.</p> +<p>Now the flame struck hard on the house, wind-wielded, a fracturing blow,</p> +<p>And the end of the roof was burst and fell on the sleepers below;</p> +<p>And the lofty hall, and the feast, and the prostrate bodies of folk,</p> +<p>Shone red in his eyes a moment, and then were swallowed of smoke.</p> +<p>In the mind of Rahéro clearness came; and he opened his throat;</p> +<p>And as when a squall comes sudden, the straining sail of a boat</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page160"></a>160</span></p> +<p>Thunders aloud and bursts, so thundered the voice of the man.</p> +<p>—“The wind and the rain!” he shouted, the mustering word of the clan,<a name="FnAnchor_14c" href="#Footnote_14c"><span class="sp">14</span></a></p> +<p>And “Up!” and “To arms, men of Vaiau!” But silence replied,</p> +<p>Or only the voice of the gusts of the fire, and nothing beside.</p> + +<p class="s">Rahéro stooped and groped. He handled his womankind,</p> +<p>But the fumes of the fire and the kava had quenched the life of their mind,</p> +<p>And they lay like pillars prone; and his hand encountered the boy,</p> +<p>And there sprang in the gloom of his soul a sudden lightning of joy.</p> +<p>“Him can I save!” he thought, “if I were speedy enough.”</p> +<p>And he loosened the cloth from his loins, and swaddled the child in the stuff:</p> +<p>And about the strength of his neck he knotted the burden well.</p> + +<p class="s">There where the roof had fallen, it roared like the mouth of hell.</p> +<p>Thither Rahéro went, stumbling on senseless folk,</p> +<p>And grappled a post of the house, and began to climb in the smoke:</p> +<p>The last alive of Vaiau; and the son borne by the sire.</p> +<p>The post glowed in the grain with ulcers of eating fire,</p> +<p>And the fire bit to the blood and mangled his hands and thighs;</p> +<p>And the fumes sang in his head like wine and stung in his eyes;</p> +<p>And still he climbed, and came to the top, the place of proof,</p> +<p>And thrust a hand through the flame, and clambered alive on the roof.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page161"></a>161</span></p> +<p>But even as he did so, the wind, in a garment of flames and pain,</p> +<p>Wrapped him from head to heel; and the waistcloth parted in twain;</p> +<p>And the living fruit of his loins dropped in the fire below.</p> + +<p class="s">About the blazing feast-house clustered the eyes of the foe,</p> +<p>Watching, hand upon weapon, lest ever a soul should flee,</p> +<p>Shading the brow from the glare, straining the neck to see.</p> +<p>Only, to leeward, the flames in the wind swept far and wide,</p> +<p>And the forest sputtered on fire; and there might no man abide.</p> +<p>Thither Rahéro crept, and dropped from the burning eaves,</p> +<p>And crouching low to the ground, in a treble covert of leaves</p> +<p>And fire and volleying smoke, ran for the life of his soul</p> +<p>Unseen; and behind him under a furnace of ardent coal,</p> +<p>Cairned with a wonder of flame, and blotting the night with smoke,</p> +<p>Blazed and were smelted together the bones of all his folk.</p> + +<p class="s">He fled unguided at first; but hearing the breakers roar,</p> +<p>Thitherward shaped his way, and came at length to the shore.</p> +<p>Sound-limbed he was: dry-eyed; but smarted in every part;</p> +<p>And the mighty cage of his ribs heaved on his straining heart</p> +<p>With sorrow and rage. And “Fools!” he cried, “fools of Vaiau,</p> +<p>Heads of swine—gluttons—Alas! and where are they now?</p> +<p>Those that I played with, those that nursed me, those that I nursed?</p> +<p>God, and I outliving them! I, the least and the worst—</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page162"></a>162</span></p> +<p>I, that thought myself crafty, snared by this herd of swine,</p> +<p>In the tortures of hell and desolate, stripped of all that was mine:</p> +<p>All!—my friends and my fathers—the silver heads of yore</p> +<p>That trooped to the council, the children that ran to the open door</p> +<p>Crying with innocent voices and clasping a father’s knees!</p> +<p>And mine, my wife—my daughter—my sturdy climber of trees,</p> +<p>Ah, never to climb again!”</p> + +<p class="s" style="padding-left: 10em;">Thus in the dusk of the night</p> +<p>(For clouds rolled in the sky and the moon was swallowed from sight),</p> +<p>Pacing and gnawing his fists, Rahéro raged by the shore.</p> +<p>Vengeance: that must be his. But much was to do before;</p> +<p>And first a single life to be snatched from a deadly place,</p> +<p>A life, the root of revenge, surviving plant of the race:</p> +<p>And next the race to be raised anew, and the lands of the clan</p> +<p>Repeopled. So Rahéro designed, a prudent man</p> +<p>Even in wrath, and turned for the means of revenge and escape:</p> +<p>A boat to be seized by stealth, a wife to be taken by rape.</p> + +<p class="s">Still was the dark lagoon; beyond on the coral wall,</p> +<p>He saw the breakers shine, he heard them bellow and fall.</p> +<p>Alone, on the top of the reef, a man with a flaming brand</p> +<p>Walked, gazing and pausing, a fish-spear poised in his hand.</p> +<p>The foam boiled to his calf when the mightier breakers came,</p> +<p>And the torch shed in the wind scattering tufts of flame</p> +<p>Afar on the dark lagoon a canoe lay idly at wait:</p> +<p>A figure dimly guiding it: surely the fisherman’s mate.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page163"></a>163</span></p> +<p>Rahéro saw and he smiled. He straightened his mighty thews:</p> +<p>Naked, with never a weapon, and covered with scorch and bruise,</p> +<p>He straightened his arms, he filled the void of his body with breath,</p> +<p>And, strong as the wind in his manhood, doomed the fisher to death.</p> + +<p class="s">Silent he entered the water, and silently swam, and came</p> +<p>There where the fisher walked, holding on high the flame.</p> +<p>Loud on the pier of the reef volleyed the breach of the sea;</p> +<p>And hard at the back of the man, Rahéro crept to his knee</p> +<p>On the coral, and suddenly sprang and seized him, the elder hand</p> +<p>Clutching the joint of his throat, the other snatching the brand</p> +<p>Ere it had time to fall, and holding it steady and high.</p> +<p>Strong was the fisher, brave, and swift of mind and of eye—</p> +<p>Strongly he threw in the clutch; but Rahéro resisted the strain,</p> +<p>And jerked, and the spine of life snapped with a crack in twain,</p> +<p>And the man came slack in his hands and tumbled a lump at his feet.</p> + +<p class="s">One moment: and there, on the reef, where the breakers whitened and beat,</p> +<p>Rahéro was standing alone, glowing, and scorched and bare,</p> +<p>A victor unknown of any, raising the torch in the air.</p> +<p>But once he drank of his breath, and instantly set him to fish</p> +<p>Like a man intent upon supper at home and a savoury dish.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page164"></a>164</span></p> +<p>For what should the woman have seen? A man with a torch—and then</p> +<p>A moment’s blur of the eyes—and a man with a torch again.</p> +<p>And the torch had scarcely been shaken. “Ah, surely,” Rahéro said,</p> +<p>“She will deem it a trick of the eyes, a fancy born in the head;</p> +<p>But time must be given the fool to nourish a fool’s belief.”</p> +<p>So for a while, a sedulous fisher, he walked the reef,</p> +<p>Pausing at times and gazing, striking at times with the spear:</p> +<p>—Lastly, uttered the call; and even as the boat drew near,</p> +<p>Like a man that was done with its use, tossed the torch in the sea.</p> + +<p class="s">Lightly he leaped on the boat beside the woman; and she</p> +<p>Lightly addressed him, and yielded the paddle and place to sit;</p> +<p>For now the torch was extinguished the night was black as the pit.</p> +<p>Rahéro set him to row, never a word he spoke,</p> +<p>And the boat sang in the water urged by his vigorous stroke.</p> +<p>—“What ails you?” the woman asked, “and why did you drop the brand?</p> +<p>We have only to kindle another as soon as we come to land.”</p> +<p>Never a word Rahéro replied, but urged the canoe.</p> +<p>And a chill fell on the woman.—“Atta! speak! is it you?</p> +<p>Speak! Why are you silent? Why do you bend aside?</p> +<p>Wherefore steer to the seaward?” thus she panted and cried.</p> +<p>Never a word from the oarsman, toiling there in the dark;</p> +<p>But right for a gate of the reef he silently headed the bark,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page165"></a>165</span></p> +<p>And wielding the single paddle with passionate sweep on sweep,</p> +<p>Drove her, the little fitted, forth on the open deep.</p> +<p>And fear, there where she sat, froze the woman to stone:</p> +<p>Not fear of the crazy boat and the weltering deep alone;</p> +<p>But a keener fear of the night, the dark, and the ghostly hour,</p> +<p>And the thing that drove the canoe with more than a mortal’s power</p> +<p>And more than a mortal’s boldness. For much she knew of the dead</p> +<p>That haunt and fish upon reefs, toiling, like men, for bread,</p> +<p>And traffic with human fishers, or slay them and take their ware,</p> +<p>Till the hour when the star of the dead<a name="FnAnchor_15c" href="#Footnote_15c"><span class="sp">15</span></a> goes down, and the morning air</p> +<p>Blows, and the cocks are singing on shore. And surely she knew</p> +<p>The speechless thing at her side belonged to the grave.<a name="FnAnchor_16c" href="#Footnote_16c"><span class="sp">16</span></a></p> + +<p class="s" style="padding-left: 18em;">It blew</p> +<p>All night from the south; all night, Rahéro contended and kept</p> +<p>The prow to the cresting sea; and, silent as though she slept,</p> +<p>The woman huddled and quaked. And now was the peep of day.</p> +<p>High and long on their left the mountainous island lay;</p> +<p>And over the peaks of Taiárapu arrows of sunlight struck.</p> +<p>On shore the birds were beginning to sing: the ghostly ruck</p> +<p>Of the buried had long ago returned to the covered grave;</p> +<p>And here on the sea, the woman, waxing suddenly brave,</p> +<p>Turned her swiftly about and looked in the face of the man.</p> +<p>And sure he was none that she knew, none of her country or clan:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page166"></a>166</span></p> +<p>A stranger, mother-naked, and marred with the marks of fire,</p> +<p>But comely and great of stature, a man to obey and admire.</p> + +<p class="s">And Rahéro regarded her also, fixed, with a frowning face,</p> +<p>Judging the woman’s fitness to mother a warlike race.</p> +<p>Broad of shoulder, ample of girdle, long in the thigh,</p> +<p>Deep of bosom she was, and bravely supported his eye.</p> + +<p class="s">“Woman,” said he, “last night the men of your folk—</p> +<p>Man, woman, and maid, smothered my race in smoke.</p> +<p>It was done like cowards; and I, a mighty man of my hands,</p> +<p>Escaped, a single life; and now to the empty lands</p> +<p>And smokeless hearths of my people, sail, with yourself, alone.</p> +<p>Before your mother was born, the die of to-day was thrown</p> +<p>And you selected:—your husband, vainly striving, to fall</p> +<p>Broken between these hands:—yourself to be severed from all,</p> +<p>The places, the people, you love—home, kindred, and clan—</p> +<p>And to dwell in a desert and bear the babes of a kinless man.”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page167"></a>167</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>THE FEAST OF FAMINE</h3> + +<h4>MARQUESAN MANNERS</h4> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page168"></a>168</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page169"></a>169</span></p> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>THE PRIEST’S VIGIL</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> all the land of the tribe was neither fish nor fruit,</p> +<p>And the deepest pit of popoi stood empty to the foot.<a name="FnAnchor_1d" href="#Footnote_1d"><span class="sp">1</span></a></p> +<p>The clans upon the left and the clans upon the right</p> +<p>Now oiled their carven maces and scoured their daggers bright;</p> +<p>They gat them to the thicket, to the deepest of the shade,</p> +<p>And lay with sleepless eyes in the deadly ambuscade.</p> +<p>And oft in the starry even the song of morning rose,</p> +<p>What time the oven smoked in the country of their foes;</p> +<p>For oft to loving hearts, and waiting ears and sight,</p> +<p>The lads that went to forage returned not with the night.</p> +<p>Now first the children sickened, and then the women paled,</p> +<p>And the great arms of the warrior no more for war availed.</p> +<p>Hushed was the deep drum, discarded was the dance;</p> +<p>And those that met the priest now glanced at him askance.</p> +<p>The priest was a man of years, his eyes were ruby-red,<a name="FnAnchor_2d" href="#Footnote_2d"><span class="sp">2</span></a></p> +<p>He neither feared the dark nor the terrors of the dead,</p> +<p>He knew the songs of races, the names of ancient date;</p> +<p>And the beard upon his bosom would have bought the chief’s estate.</p> +<p>He dwelt in a high-built lodge, hard by the roaring shore,</p> +<p>Raised on a noble terrace and with tikis<a name="FnAnchor_3d" href="#Footnote_3d"><span class="sp">3</span></a> at the door.</p> +<p>Within it was full of riches, for he served his nation well,</p> +<p>And full of the sound of breakers, like the hollow of a shell.</p> +<p>For weeks he let them perish, gave never a helping sign,</p> +<p>But sat on his oiled platform to commune with the divine,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page170"></a>170</span></p> +<p>But sat on his high terrace, with the tikis by his side,</p> +<p>And stared on the blue ocean, like a parrot, ruby-eyed.</p> + +<p class="s">Dawn as yellow as sulphur leaped on the mountain height:</p> +<p>Out on the round of the sea the gems of the morning light,</p> +<p>Up from the round of the sea the streamers of the sun;—</p> +<p>But down in the depths of the valley the day was not begun.</p> +<p>In the blue of the woody twilight burned red the cocoa-husk,</p> +<p>And the women and men of the clan went forth to bathe in the dusk,</p> +<p>A word that began to go round, a word, a whisper, a start:</p> +<p>Hope that leaped in the bosom, fear that knocked on the heart:</p> +<p>“See, the priest is not risen—look, for his door is fast!</p> +<p>He is going to name the victims; he is going to help us at last.”</p> + +<p class="s">Thrice rose the sun to noon; and ever, like one of the dead,</p> +<p>The priest lay still in his house, with the roar of the sea in his head;</p> +<p>There was never a foot on the floor, there was never a whisper of speech;</p> +<p>Only the leering tikis stared on the blinding beach.</p> +<p>Again were the mountains fired, again the morning broke;</p> +<p>And all the houses lay still, but the house of the priest awoke.</p> +<p>Close in their covering roofs lay and trembled the clan,</p> +<p>But the aged, red-eyed priest ran forth like a lunatic man;</p> +<p>And the village panted to see him in the jewels of death again,</p> +<p>In the silver beards of the old and the hair of women slain.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page171"></a>171</span></p> +<p>Frenzy shook in his limbs, frenzy shone in his eyes,</p> +<p>And still and again as he ran, the valley rang with his cries.</p> +<p>All day long in the land, by cliff and thicket and den,</p> +<p>He ran his lunatic rounds, and howled for the flesh of men;</p> +<p>All day long he ate not, nor ever drank of the brook;</p> +<p>And all day long in their houses the people listened and shook—</p> +<p>All day long in their houses they listened with bated breath,</p> +<p>And never a soul went forth, for the sight of the priest was death.</p> + +<p class="s">Three were the days of his running, as the gods appointed of yore,</p> +<p>Two the nights of his sleeping alone in the place of gore:</p> +<p>The drunken slumber of frenzy twice he drank to the lees,</p> +<p>On the sacred stones of the High-place under the sacred trees;</p> +<p>With a lamp at his ashen head he lay in the place of the feast,</p> +<p>And the sacred leaves of the banyan rustled around the priest.</p> +<p>Last, when the stated even fell upon terrace and tree,</p> +<p>And the shade of the lofty island lay leagues away to sea,</p> +<p>And all the valleys of verdure were heavy with manna and musk,</p> +<p>The wreck of the red-eyed priest came gasping home in the dusk.</p> +<p>He reeled across the village, he staggered along the shore,</p> +<p>And between the leering tikis crept groping through his door.</p> + +<p class="s">There went a stir through the lodges, the voice of speech awoke;</p> +<p>Once more from the builded platforms arose the evening smoke.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page172"></a>172</span></p> +<p>And those who were mighty in war, and those renowned for an art</p> +<p>Sat in their stated seats and talked of the morrow apart.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>THE LOVERS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Hark</span>! away in the woods—for the ears of love are sharp—</p> +<p>Stealthily, quietly touched, the note of the one-stringed harp.<a name="FnAnchor_4d" href="#Footnote_4d"><span class="sp">4</span></a></p> +<p>In the lighted house of her father, why should Taheia start?</p> +<p>Taheia heavy of hair, Taheia tender of heart,</p> +<p>Taheia the well-descended, a bountiful dealer in love,</p> +<p>Nimble of foot like the deer, and kind of eye like the dove?</p> +<p>Sly and shy as a cat, with never a change of face,</p> +<p>Taheia slips to the door, like one that would breathe a space;</p> +<p>Saunters and pauses, and looks at the stars, and lists to the seas;</p> +<p>Then sudden and swift as a cat, she plunges under the trees.</p> +<p>Swift as a cat she runs, with her garment gathered high,</p> +<p>Leaping, nimble of foot, running, certain of eye;</p> +<p>And ever to guide her way over the smooth and the sharp,</p> +<p>Ever nearer and nearer the note of the one-stringed harp;</p> +<p>Till at length, in a glade of the wood, with a naked mountain above,</p> +<p>The sound of the harp thrown down, and she in the arms of her love.</p> +<p>“Rua,”—“Taheia,” they cry—“my heart, my soul, and my eyes,”</p> +<p>And clasp and sunder and kiss, with lovely laughter and sighs,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page173"></a>173</span></p> +<p>“Rua!”—“Taheia, my love,”—“Rua, star of my night,</p> +<p>Clasp me, hold me, and love me, single spring of delight.”</p> + +<p class="s">And Rua folded her close, he folded her near and long,</p> +<p>The living knit to the living, and sang the lover’s song:</p> + +<p class="s i3"><i>Night, night it is, night upon the palms.</i></p> +<p class="i3"><i>Night, night it is, the land-wind has blown.</i></p> +<p class="i3"><i>Starry, starry night, over deep and height;</i></p> +<p class="i3"><i>Love, love in the valley, love all alone.</i></p> + +<p class="s">“Taheia, heavy of hair, a foolish thing have we done,</p> +<p>To bind what gods have sundered unkindly into one.</p> +<p>Why should a lowly lover have touched Taheia’s skirt,</p> +<p>Taheia the well-descended, and Rua child of the dirt?”</p> + +<p class="s">—“On high with the haka-ikis my father sits in state,</p> +<p>Ten times fifty kinsmen salute him in the gate;</p> +<p>Round all his martial body, and in bands across his face,</p> +<p>The marks of the tattooer proclaim his lofty place.</p> +<p>I too, in the hands of the cunning, in the sacred cabin of palm,<a name="FnAnchor_5d" href="#Footnote_5d"><span class="sp">5</span></a></p> +<p>Have shrunk like the mimosa, and bleated like the lamb;</p> +<p>Round half my tender body, that none shall clasp but you,</p> +<p>For a crest and a fair adornment go dainty lines of blue.</p> +<p>Love, love, beloved Rua, love levels all degrees,</p> +<p>And the well-tattooed Taheia clings panting to your knees.”</p> + +<p class="s">—“Taheia, song of the morning, how long is the longest love?</p> +<p>A cry, a clasp of the hands, a star that falls from above!</p> +<p>Ever at morn in the blue, and at night when all is black,</p> +<p>Ever it skulks and trembles with the hunter, Death, on its track.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page174"></a>174</span></p> +<p>Hear me, Taheia, death! For to-morrow the priest shall awake,</p> +<p>And the names be named of the victims to bleed for the nation’s sake;</p> +<p>And first of the numbered many that shall be slain ere noon,</p> +<p>Rua the child of the dirt, Rua the kinless loon.</p> +<p>For him shall the drum be beat, for him be raised the song,</p> +<p>For him to the sacred High-place the chanting people throng,</p> +<p>For him the oven smoke as for a speechless beast,</p> +<p>And the sire of my Taheia come greedy to the feast.”</p> +<p>“Rua, be silent, spare me. Taheia closes her ears.</p> +<p>Pity my yearning heart, pity my girlish years!</p> +<p>Flee from the cruel hands, flee from the knife and coal,</p> +<p>Lie hid in the deeps of the woods, Rua, sire of my soul!”</p> + +<p class="s">“Whither to flee, Taheia, whither in all of the land?</p> +<p>The fires of the bloody kitchen are kindled on every hand;</p> +<p>On every hand in the isle a hungry whetting of teeth,</p> +<p>Eyes in the trees above, arms in the brush beneath.</p> +<p>Patience to lie in wait, cunning to follow the sleuth,</p> +<p>Abroad the foes I have fought, and at home the friends of my youth.”</p> + +<p class="s">“Love, love, beloved Rua, love has a clearer eye,</p> +<p>Hence from the arms of love you go not forth to die.</p> +<p>There, where the broken mountain drops sheer into the glen,</p> +<p>There shall you find a hold from the boldest hunter of men;</p> +<p>There, in the deep recess, where the sun falls only at noon,</p> +<p>And only once in the night enters the light of the moon,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page175"></a>175</span></p> +<p>Nor ever a sound but of birds, or the rain when it falls with a shout;</p> +<p>For death and the fear of death beleaguer the valley about.</p> +<p>Tapu it is, but the gods will surely pardon despair;</p> +<p>Tapu, but what of that? If Rua can only dare.</p> +<p>Tapu and tapu and tapu, I know they are every one right;</p> +<p>But the god of every tapu is not always quick to smite.</p> +<p>Lie secret there, my Rua, in the arms of awful gods,</p> +<p>Sleep in the shade of the trees on the couch of the kindly sods,</p> +<p>Sleep and dream of Taheia, Taheia will wake for you;</p> +<p>And whenever the land-wind blows and the woods are heavy with dew,</p> +<p>Alone through the horror of night,<a name="FnAnchor_6d" href="#Footnote_6d"><span class="sp">6</span></a> with food for the soul of her love,</p> +<p>Taheia the undissuaded will hurry true as the dove.”</p> + +<p class="s">“Taheia, the pit of the night crawls with treacherous things,</p> +<p>Spirits of ultimate air and the evil souls of things;</p> +<p>The souls of the dead, the stranglers, that perch in the trees of the wood,</p> +<p>Waiters for all things human, haters of evil and good.”</p> + +<p class="s">“Rua, behold me, kiss me, look in my eyes and read;</p> +<p>Are these the eyes of a maid that would leave her lover in need?</p> +<p>Brave in the eye of day, my father ruled in the fight;</p> +<p>The child of his loins, Taheia, will play the man in the night.”</p> + +<p class="s">So it was spoken, and so agreed, and Taheia arose</p> +<p>And smiled in the stars and was gone, swift as the swallow goes;</p> +<p>And Rua stood on the hill, and sighed, and followed her flight,</p> +<p>And there were the lodges below, each with its door alight;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page176"></a>176</span></p> +<p>From folk that sat on the terrace and drew out the even long</p> +<p>Sudden crowings of laughter, monotonous drone of song;</p> +<p>The quiet passage of souls over his head in the trees;<a name="FnAnchor_7d" href="#Footnote_7d"><span class="sp">7</span></a></p> +<p>And from all around the haven the crumbling thunder of seas.</p> +<p>“Farewell, my home,” said Rua. “Farewell, O quiet seat!</p> +<p>To-morrow in all your valleys the drum of death shall beat.”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>THE FEAST</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Dawn</span> as yellow as sulphur leaped on the naked peak,</p> +<p>And all the village was stirring, for now was the priest to speak.</p> +<p>Forth on his terrace he came, and sat with the chief in talk;</p> +<p>His lips were blackened with fever, his cheeks were whiter than chalk;</p> +<p>Fever clutched at his hands, fever nodded his head,</p> +<p>But, quiet and steady and cruel, his eyes shone ruby-red.</p> +<p>In the earliest rays of the sun the chief rose up content;</p> +<p>Braves were summoned, and drummers; messengers came and went;</p> +<p>Braves ran to their lodges; weapons were snatched from the wall;</p> +<p>The commons herded together, and fear was over them all.</p> +<p>Festival dresses they wore, but the tongue was dry in their mouth,</p> +<p>And the blinking eyes in their faces skirted from north to south.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page177"></a>177</span></p> + +<p class="s">Now to the sacred enclosure gathered the greatest and least,</p> +<p>And from under the shade of the banyan arose the voice of the feast,</p> +<p>The frenzied roll of the drum, and a swift monotonous song.</p> +<p>Higher the sun swam up; the trade-wind level and strong</p> +<p>Awoke in the tops of the palms and rattled the fans aloud,</p> +<p>And over the garlanded heads and shining robes of the crowd</p> +<p>Tossed the spiders of shadow, scattered the jewels of sun.</p> +<p>Forty the tale of the drums, and the forty throbbed like one;</p> +<p>A thousand hearts in the crowd, and the even chorus of song,</p> +<p>Swift as the feet of a runner, trampled a thousand strong.</p> +<p>And the old men leered at the ovens and licked their lips for the food;</p> +<p>And the women stared at the lads, and laughed and looked to the wood.</p> +<p>As when the sweltering baker, at night, when the city is dead,</p> +<p>Alone in the trough of labour treads and fashions the bread;</p> +<p>So in the heat, and the reek, and the touch of woman and man,</p> +<p>The naked spirit of evil kneaded the hearts of the clan.</p> + +<p class="s">Now cold was at many a heart, and shaking in many a seat;</p> +<p>For there were the empty baskets, but who was to furnish the meat?</p> +<p>For here was the nation assembled, and there were the ovens anigh,</p> +<p>And out of a thousand singers nine were numbered to die.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page178"></a>178</span></p> +<p>Till, of a sudden, a shock, a mace in the air, a yell,</p> +<p>And, struck in the edge of the crowd, the first of the victims fell.<a name="FnAnchor_8d" href="#Footnote_8d"><span class="sp">8</span></a></p> +<p>Terror and horrible glee divided the shrinking clan,</p> +<p>Terror of what was to follow, glee for a diet of man.</p> +<p>Frenzy hurried the chant, frenzy rattled the drums;</p> +<p>The nobles, high on the terrace, greedily mouthed their thumbs;</p> +<p>And once and again and again, in the ignorant crowd below,</p> +<p>Once and again and again descended the murderous blow.</p> +<p>Now smoked the oven, and now, with the cutting lip of a shell,</p> +<p>A butcher of ninety winters jointed the bodies well.</p> +<p>Unto the carven lodge, silent, in order due,</p> +<p>The grandees of the nation one after one withdrew;</p> +<p>And a line of laden bearers brought to the terrace foot,</p> +<p>On poles across their shoulders, the last reserve of fruit.</p> +<p>The victims bled for the nobles in the old appointed way;</p> +<p>The fruit was spread for the commons, for all should eat to-day.</p> +<p>And now was the kava brewed, and now the cocoa ran,</p> +<p>Now was the hour of the dance for child and woman and man;</p> +<p>And mirth was in every heart and a garland on every head,</p> +<p>And all was well with the living and well with the eight who were dead.</p> +<p>Only the chiefs and the priest talked and consulted a while:</p> +<p>“To-morrow,” they said, and “To-morrow,” and nodded and seemed to smile:</p> +<p>“Rua the child of dirt, the creature of common clay,</p> +<p>Rua must die to-morrow, since Rua is gone to-day.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page179"></a>179</span></p> +<p>Out of the groves of the valley, where clear the blackbirds sang,</p> +<p>Sheer from the trees of the valley the face of the mountain sprang;</p> +<p>Sheer and bare it rose, unscalable barricade,</p> +<p>Beaten and blown against by the generous draught of the trade.</p> +<p>Dawn on its fluted brow painted rainbow light,</p> +<p>Close on its pinnacled crown trembled the stars at night.</p> +<p>Here and there in a cleft clustered contorted trees,</p> +<p>Or the silver beard of a stream hung and swung in the breeze,</p> +<p>High overhead, with a cry, the torrents leaped for the main,</p> +<p>And silently sprinkled below in thin perennial rain.</p> +<p>Dark in the staring noon, dark was Rua’s ravine,</p> +<p>Damp and cold was the air, and the face of the cliffs was green.</p> +<p>Here, in the rocky pit, accursed already of old,</p> +<p>On a stone in the midst of a river, Rua sat and was cold.</p> + +<p class="s">“Valley of mid-day shadows, valley of silent falls,”</p> +<p>Rua sang, and his voice went hollow about the walls,</p> +<p>“Valley of shadow and rock, a doleful prison to me,</p> +<p>What is the life you can give to a child of the sun and the sea?”</p> +<p>And Rua arose and came to the open mouth of the glen,</p> +<p>Whence he beheld the woods, and the sea, and houses of men.</p> +<p>Wide blew the riotous trade, and smelt in his nostrils good;</p> +<p>It bowed the boats on the bay, and tore and divided the wood;</p> +<p>It smote and sundered the groves as Moses smote with the rod,</p> +<p>And the streamers of all the trees blew like banners abroad;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page180"></a>180</span></p> +<p>And ever and on, in a lull, the trade-wind brought him along</p> +<p>A far-off patter of drums and a far-off whisper of song.</p> + +<p class="s">Swift as the swallow’s wings, the diligent hands on the drum</p> +<p>Fluttered and hurried and throbbed. “Ah, woe that I hear you come,”</p> +<p>Rua cried in his grief, “a sorrowful sound to me,</p> +<p>Mounting far and faint from the resonant shore of the sea!</p> +<p>Woe in the song! for the grave breathes in the singers’ breath,</p> +<p>And I hear in the tramp of the drums the beat of the heart of death.</p> +<p>Home of my youth! no more through all the length of the years,</p> +<p>No more to the place of the echoes of early laughter and tears,</p> +<p>No more shall Rua return; no more as the evening ends,</p> +<p>To crowded eyes of welcome, to the reaching hands of friends.”</p> + +<p class="s">All day long from the High-place the drums and the singing came,</p> +<p>And the even fell, and the sun went down, a wheel of flame;</p> +<p>And night came gleaning the shadows and hushing the sounds of the wood;</p> +<p>And silence slept on all, where Rua sorrowed and stood.</p> +<p>But still from the shore of the bay the sound of the festival rang,</p> +<p>And still the crowd in the High-place danced and shouted and sang.</p> + +<p class="s">Now over all the isle terror was breathed abroad</p> +<p>Of shadowy hands from the trees and shadowy snares in the sod;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page181"></a>181</span></p> +<p>And before the nostrils of night, the shuddering hunter of men</p> +<p>Hurried, with beard on shoulder, back to his lighted den.</p> +<p>“Taheia, here to my side!”—“Rua, my Rua, you!”</p> +<p>And cold from the clutch of terror, cold with the damp of the dew,</p> +<p>Taheia, heavy of hair, leaped through the dark to his arms;</p> +<p>Taheia leaped to his clasp, and was folded in from alarms.</p> + +<p class="s">“Rua, beloved, here, see what your love has brought;</p> +<p>Coming—alas! returning—swift as the shuttle of thought;</p> +<p>Returning, alas! for to-night, with the beaten drum and the voice,</p> +<p>In the shine of many torches must the sleepless clan rejoice;</p> +<p>And Taheia the well-descended, the daughter of chief and priest,</p> +<p>Taheia must sit in her place in the crowded bench of the feast.”</p> +<p>So it was spoken; and she, girding her garment high,</p> +<p>Fled and was swallowed of woods, swift as the sight of an eye.</p> + +<p class="s">Night over isle and sea rolled her curtain of stars,</p> +<p>Then a trouble awoke in the air, the east was banded with bars;</p> +<p>Dawn as yellow as sulphur leaped on the mountain height;</p> +<p>Dawn, in the deepest glen, fell a wonder of light;</p> +<p>High and clear stood the palms in the eye of the brightening east,</p> +<p>And lo! from the sides of the sea the broken sound of the feast!</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page182"></a>182</span></p> +<p>As, when in days of summer, through open windows, the fly</p> +<p>Swift as a breeze and loud as a trump goes by,</p> +<p>But when frosts in the field have pinched the wintering mouse,</p> +<p>Blindly noses and buzzes and hums in the firelit house:</p> +<p>So the sound of the feast gallantly trampled at night,</p> +<p>So it staggered and drooped, and droned in the morning light.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<h3>THE RAID</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">It</span> chanced that as Rua sat in the valley of silent falls</p> +<p>He heard a calling of doves from high on the cliffy walls.</p> +<p>Fire had fashioned of yore, and time had broken, the rocks;</p> +<p>There were rooting crannies for trees and nesting-places for flocks;</p> +<p>And he saw on the top of the cliffs, looking up from the pit of the shade,</p> +<p>A flicker of wings and sunshine, and trees that swung in the trade.</p> +<p>“The trees swing in the trade,” quoth Rua, doubtful of words,</p> +<p>“And the sun stares from the sky, but what should trouble the birds?”</p> +<p>Up from the shade he gazed, where high the parapet shone,</p> +<p>And he was aware of a ledge and of things that moved thereon.</p> +<p>“What manner of things are these? Are they spirits abroad by day?</p> +<p>Or the foes of my clan that are come, bringing death by a perilous way?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page183"></a>183</span></p> + +<p class="s">The valley was gouged like a vessel, and round like the vessel’s lip,</p> +<p>With a cape of the side of the hill thrust forth like the bows of a ship.</p> +<p>On the top of the face of the cape a volley of sun struck fair,</p> +<p>And the cape overhung like a chin a gulf of sunless air.</p> +<p>“Silence, heart! What is that?—that, which flickered and shone,</p> +<p>Into the sun for an instant, and in an instant gone?</p> +<p>Was it a warrior’s plume, a warrior’s girdle of hair?</p> +<p>Swung in the loop of a rope, is he making a bridge of the air?”</p> +<p>Once and again Rua saw, in the trenchant edge of the sky,</p> +<p>The giddy conjuring done. And then, in the blink of an eye,</p> +<p>A scream caught in with the breath, a whirling packet of limbs,</p> +<p>A lump that dived in the gulf, more swift than a dolphin swims;</p> +<p>And there was a lump at his feet, and eyes were alive in the lump.</p> +<p>Sick was the soul of Rua, ambushed close in a clump;</p> +<p>Sick of soul he drew near, making his courage stout;</p> +<p>And he looked in the face of the thing, and the life of the thing went out.</p> +<p>And he gazed on the tattooed limbs, and, behold, he knew the man:</p> +<p>Hoka, a chief of the Vais, the truculent foe of his clan:</p> +<p>Hoka a moment since that stepped in the loop of the rope,</p> +<p>Filled with the lust of war, and alive with courage and hope.</p> + +<p class="s">Again to the giddy cornice Rua lifted his eyes,</p> +<p>And again beheld men passing in the armpit of the skies.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page184"></a>184</span></p> +<p>“Foes of my race!” cried Rua, “the mouth of Rua is true:</p> +<p>Never a shark in the deep is nobler of soul than you.</p> +<p>There was never a nobler foray, never a bolder plan;</p> +<p>Never a dizzier path was trod by the children of man;</p> +<p>And Rua, your evil-doer through all the days of his years,</p> +<p>Counts it honour to hate you, honour to fall by your spears.”</p> +<p>And Rua straightened his back. “O Vais, a scheme for a scheme!”</p> +<p>Cried Rua and turned and descended the turbulent stair of the stream,</p> +<p>Leaping from rock to rock as the water-wagtail at home</p> +<p>Flits through resonant valleys and skims by boulder and foam.</p> +<p>And Rua burst from the glen and leaped on the shore of the brook,</p> +<p>And straight for the roofs of the clan his vigorous way he took.</p> +<p>Swift were the heels of his flight, and loud behind as he went</p> +<p>Rattled the leaping stones on the line of his long descent.</p> +<p>And ever he thought as he ran, and caught at his gasping breath,</p> +<p>“O the fool of a Rua, Rua that runs to his death!</p> +<p>But the right is the right,” thought Rua, and ran like the wind on the foam,</p> +<p>“The right is the right for ever, and home for ever home.</p> +<p>For what though the oven smoke? And what though I die ere morn?</p> +<p>There was I nourished and tended, and there was Taheia born.”</p> + +<p class="s">Noon was high on the High-place, the second noon of the feast;</p> +<p>And heat and shameful slumber weighed on people and priest;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page185"></a>185</span></p> +<p>And the heart drudged slow in bodies heavy with monstrous meals;</p> +<p>And the senseless limbs were scattered abroad like spokes of wheels;</p> +<p>And crapulous women sat and stared at the stones anigh</p> +<p>With a bestial droop of the lip and a swinish rheum in the eye.</p> +<p>As about the dome of the bees in the time for the drones to fall,</p> +<p>The dead and the maimed are scattered, and lie, and stagger, and crawl;</p> +<p>So on the grades of the terrace, in the ardent eye of the day,</p> +<p>The half-awake and the sleepers clustered and crawled and lay;</p> +<p>And loud as the dome of the bees, in the time of a swarming horde,</p> +<p>A horror of many insects hung in the air and roared.</p> +<p>Rua looked and wondered; he said to himself in his heart:</p> +<p>“Poor are the pleasures of life, and death is the better part.”</p> +<p>But lo! on the higher benches a cluster of tranquil folk</p> +<p>Sat by themselves, nor raised their serious eyes, nor spoke:</p> +<p>Women with robes unruffled and garlands duly arranged,</p> +<p>Gazing far from the feast with faces of people estranged;</p> +<p>And quiet amongst the quiet, and fairer than all the fair,</p> +<p>Taheia, the well-descended, Taheia, heavy of hair.</p> +<p>And the soul of Rua awoke, courage enlightened his eyes</p> +<p>And he uttered a summoning shout and called on the clan to rise.</p> +<p>Over against him at once, in the spotted shade of the trees,</p> +<p>Owlish and blinking creatures scrambled to hands and knees;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page186"></a>186</span></p> +<p>On the grades of the sacred terrace, the driveller woke to fear,</p> +<p>And the hand of the ham-drooped warrior brandished a wavering spear.</p> +<p>And Rua folded his arms, and scorn discovered his teeth;</p> +<p>Above the war-crowd gibbered, and Rua stood smiling beneath.</p> +<p>Thick, like leaves in the autumn, faint, like April sleet,</p> +<p>Missiles from tremulous hands quivered around his feet;</p> +<p>And Taheia leaped from her place; and the priest, the ruby-eyed,</p> +<p>Ran to the front of the terrace, and brandished his arms and cried:</p> +<p>“Hold, O fools, he brings tidings!” and “Hold, ’tis the love of my heart!”</p> +<p>Till lo! in front of the terrace, Rua pierced with a dart.</p> + +<p class="s">Taheia cherished his head, and the aged priest stood by,</p> +<p>And gazed with eyes of ruby at Rua’s darkening eye.</p> +<p>“Taheia, here is the end, I die a death for a man.</p> +<p>I have given the life of my soul to save an unsavable clan.</p> +<p>See them, the drooping of hams! behold me the blinking crew;</p> +<p>Fifty spears they cast, and one of fifty true!</p> +<p>And you, O priest, the foreteller, foretell for yourself if you can,</p> +<p>Foretell the hour of the day when the Vais shall burst on your clan!</p> +<p>By the head of the tapu cleft, with death and fire in their hand,</p> +<p>Thick and silent like ants, the warriors swarm in the land.”</p> + +<p class="s">And they tell that when next the sun had climbed to the noonday skies,</p> +<p>It shone on the smoke of feasting in the country of the Vais.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page187"></a>187</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>TICONDEROGA</h3> + +<h4>A LEGEND OF THE WEST HIGHLANDS</h4> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page188"></a>188</span></p> +<h3>TICONDEROGA</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">This</span> is the tale of the man</p> + <p class="i1">Who heard a word in the night</p> +<p>In the land of the heathery hills,</p> + <p class="i1">In the days of the feud and the fight.</p> +<p>By the sides of the rainy sea,</p> + <p class="i1">Where never a stranger came,</p> +<p>On the awful lips of the dead,</p> + <p class="i1">He heard the outlandish name.</p> +<p>It sang in his sleeping ears,</p> + <p class="i1">It hummed in his waking head:</p> +<p>The name—Ticonderoga,</p> + <p class="i1">The utterance of the dead.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>THE SAYING OF THE NAME</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">On</span> the loch-sides of Appin,</p> + <p class="i1">When the mist blew from the sea,</p> +<p>A Stewart stood with a Cameron:</p> + <p class="i1">An angry man was he.</p> +<p>The blood beat in his ears,</p> + <p class="i1">The blood ran hot to his head,</p> +<p>The mist blew from the sea,</p> + <p class="i1">And there was the Cameron dead.</p> +<p>“O, what have I done to my friend,</p> + <p class="i1">O, what have I done to mysel’,</p> +<p>That he should be cold and dead,</p> + <p class="i1">And I in the danger of all?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page189"></a>189</span></p> + +<p class="s">“Nothing but danger about me,</p> + <p class="i1">Danger behind and before,</p> +<p>Death at wait in the heather</p> + <p class="i1">In Appin and Mamore,</p> +<p>Hate at all of the ferries,</p> + <p class="i1">And death at each of the fords,</p> +<p>Camerons priming gun-locks</p> + <p class="i1">And Camerons sharpening swords.”</p> + +<p class="s">But this was a man of counsel,</p> + <p class="i1">This was a man of a score,</p> +<p>There dwelt no pawkier Stewart</p> + <p class="i1">In Appin or Mamore.</p> +<p>He looked on the blowing mist,</p> + <p class="i1">He looked on the awful dead,</p> +<p>And there came a smile on his face</p> + <p class="i1">And there slipped a thought in his head.</p> + +<p class="s">Out over cairn and moss,</p> + <p class="i1">Out over scrog and scaur,</p> +<p>He ran as runs the clansman</p> + <p class="i1">That bears the cross of war.</p> +<p>His heart beat in his body,</p> + <p class="i1">His hair clove to his face,</p> +<p>When he came at last in the gloaming</p> + <p class="i1">To the dead man’s brother’s place.</p> +<p>The east was white with the moon,</p> + <p class="i1">The west with the sun was red,</p> +<p>And there, in the house-doorway,</p> + <p class="i1">Stood the brother of the dead.</p> + +<p class="s">“I have slain a man to my danger,</p> + <p class="i1">I have slain a man to my death.</p> +<p>I put my soul in your hands,”</p> + <p class="i1">The panting Stewart saith.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page190"></a>190</span></p> +<p>“I lay it bare in your hands,</p> + <p class="i1">For I know your hands are leal;</p> +<p>And be you my targe and bulwark</p> + <p class="i1">From the bullet and the steel.”</p> + +<p class="s">Then up and spoke the Cameron,</p> + <p class="i1">And gave him his hand again:</p> +<p>“There shall never a man in Scotland</p> + <p class="i1">Set faith in me in vain;</p> +<p>And whatever man you have slaughtered,</p> + <p class="i1">Of whatever name or line,</p> +<p>By my sword and yonder mountain,</p> + <p class="i1">I make your quarrel mine.<a name="FnAnchor_1e" href="#Footnote_1e"><span class="sp">1</span></a></p> +<p>I bid you in to my fireside,</p> + <p class="i1">I share with you house and hall;</p> +<p>It stands upon my honour</p> + <p class="i1">To see you safe from all.”</p> + +<p class="s">It fell in the time of midnight,</p> + <p class="i1">When the fox barked in the den,</p> +<p>And the plaids were over the faces</p> + <p class="i1">In all the houses of men,</p> +<p>That as the living Cameron</p> + <p class="i1">Lay sleepless on his bed,</p> +<p>Out of the night and the other world,</p> + <p class="i1">Came in to him the dead.</p> + +<p class="s">“My blood is on the heather,</p> + <p class="i1">My bones are on the hill;</p> +<p>There is joy in the home of ravens</p> + <p class="i1">That the young shall eat their fill.</p> +<p>My blood is poured in the dust,</p> + <p class="i1">My soul is spilled in the air;</p> +<p>And the man that has undone me</p> + <p class="i1">Sleeps in my brother’s care.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page192"></a>192</span></p> +<p>“I’m wae for your death, my brother,</p> + <p class="i1">But if all of my house were dead,</p> +<p>I couldna withdraw the plighted hand,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor break the word once said.”</p> + +<p class="s">“O, what shall I say to our father,</p> + <p class="i1">In the place to which I fare?</p> +<p>O, what shall I say to our mother,</p> + <p class="i1">Who greets to see me there?</p> +<p>And to all the kindly Camerons</p> + <p class="i1">That have lived and died long-syne—</p> +<p>Is this the word you send them,</p> + <p class="i1">Fause-hearted brother mine?”</p> + +<p class="s">“It’s neither fear nor duty,</p> + <p class="i1">It’s neither quick nor dead,</p> +<p>Shall gar me withdraw the plighted hand,</p> + <p class="i1">Or break the word once said.”</p> + +<p class="s">Thrice in the time of midnight,</p> + <p class="i1">When the fox barked in the den,</p> +<p>And the plaids were over the faces</p> + <p class="i1">In all the houses of men,</p> +<p>Thrice as the living Cameron</p> + <p class="i1">Lay sleepless on his bed,</p> +<p>Out of the night and the other world</p> + <p class="i1">Came in to him the dead,</p> +<p>And cried to him for vengeance</p> + <p class="i1">On the man that laid him low;</p> +<p>And thrice the living Cameron</p> + <p class="i1">Told the dead Cameron, no.</p> + +<p class="s">“Thrice have you seen me, brother,</p> + <p class="i1">But now shall see me no more,</p> +<p>Till you meet your angry fathers</p> + <p class="i1">Upon the farther shore.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page193"></a>193</span></p> +<p>Thrice have I spoken, and now,</p> + <p class="i1">Before the cock be heard,</p> +<p>I take my leave for ever</p> + <p class="i1">With the naming of a word.</p> +<p>It shall sing in your sleeping ears,</p> + <p class="i1">It shall hum in your waking head,</p> +<p>The name—Ticonderoga,</p> + <p class="i1">And the warning of the dead.”</p> + +<p class="s">Now when the night was over</p> + <p class="i1">And the time of people’s fears,</p> +<p>The Cameron walked abroad,</p> + <p class="i1">And the word was in his ears.</p> +<p>“Many a name I know,</p> + <p class="i1">But never a name like this;</p> +<p>O, where shall I find a skilly man</p> + <p class="i1">Shall tell me what it is?”</p> +<p>With many a man he counselled</p> + <p class="i1">Of high and low degree,</p> +<p>With the herdsman on the mountains</p> + <p class="i1">And the fishers of the sea.</p> +<p>And he came and went unweary,</p> + <p class="i1">And read the books of yore,</p> +<p>And the runes that were written of old</p> + <p class="i1">On stones upon the moor.</p> +<p>And many a name he was told,</p> + <p class="i1">But never the name of his fears—</p> +<p>Never, in east or west,</p> + <p class="i1">The name that rang in his ears:</p> +<p>Names of men and of clans;</p> + <p class="i1">Names for the grass and the tree,</p> +<p>For the smallest tarn in the mountains,</p> + <p class="i1">The smallest reef in the sea:</p> +<p>Names for the high and low,</p> + <p class="i1">The names of the craig and the flat;</p> +<p>But in all the land of Scotland,</p> + <p class="i1">Never a name like that.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page194"></a>194</span></p> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>THE SEEKING OF THE NAME</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">And</span> now there was speech in the south,</p> + <p class="i1">And a man of the south that was wise,</p> +<p>A periwig’d lord of London,<a name="FnAnchor_2e" href="#Footnote_2e"><span class="sp">2</span></a></p> + <p class="i1">Called on the clans to rise.</p> +<p>And the riders rode, and the summons</p> + <p class="i1">Came to the western shore,</p> +<p>To the land of the sea and the heather,</p> + <p class="i1">To Appin and Mamore.</p> +<p>It called on all to gather</p> + <p class="i1">From every scrog and scaur,</p> +<p>That loved their fathers’ tartan</p> + <p class="i1">And the ancient game of war.</p> +<p>And down the watery valley</p> + <p class="i1">And up the windy hill,</p> +<p>Once more, as in the olden,</p> + <p class="i1">The pipes were sounding shrill;</p> +<p>Again in Highland sunshine</p> + <p class="i1">The naked steel was bright;</p> +<p>And the lads, once more in tartan,</p> + <p class="i1">Went forth again to fight.</p> + +<p class="s">“O, why should I dwell here</p> + <p class="i1">With a weird upon my life,</p> +<p>When the clansmen shout for battle</p> + <p class="i1">And the war-swords clash in strife?</p> +<p>I canna joy at feast,</p> + <p class="i1">I canna sleep in bed,</p> +<p>For the wonder of the word</p> + <p class="i1">And the warning of the dead.</p> +<p>It sings in my sleeping ears,</p> + <p class="i1">It hums in my waking head,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page195"></a>195</span></p> +<p>The name—Ticonderoga,</p> + <p class="i1">The utterance of the dead.</p> +<p>Then up, and with the fighting men</p> + <p class="i1">To march away from here,</p> +<p>Till the cry of the great war-pipe</p> + <p class="i1">Shall drown it in my ear!”</p> + +<p class="s">Where flew King George’s ensign</p> + <p class="i1">The plaided soldiers went:</p> +<p>They drew the sword in Germany,</p> + <p class="i1">In Flanders pitched the tent.</p> +<p>The bells of foreign cities</p> + <p class="i1">Rang far across the plain:</p> +<p>They passed the happy Rhine,</p> + <p class="i1">They drank the rapid Main.</p> +<p>Through Asiatic jungles</p> + <p class="i1">The Tartans filed their way,</p> +<p>And the neighing of the war-pipes</p> + <p class="i1">Struck terror in Cathay.<a name="FnAnchor_3e" href="#Footnote_3e"><span class="sp">3</span></a></p> + +<p class="s">“Many a name have I heard,” he thought,</p> + <p class="i1">“In all the tongues of men,</p> +<p>Full many a name both here and there,</p> + <p class="i1">Full many both now and then.</p> +<p>When I was at home in my father’s house,</p> + <p class="i1">In the land of the naked knee,</p> +<p>Between the eagles that fly in the lift</p> + <p class="i1">And the herrings that swim in the sea,</p> +<p>And now that I am a captain-man</p> + <p class="i1">With a braw cockade in my hat—</p> +<p>Many a name have I heard,” he thought,</p> + <p class="i1">“But never a name like that.”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page196"></a>196</span></p> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>THE PLACE OF THE NAME</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">There</span> fell a war in a woody place,</p> + <p class="i1">Lay far across the sea,</p> +<p>A war of the march in the mirk midnight</p> + <p class="i1">And the shot from behind the tree,</p> +<p>The shaven head and the painted face,</p> + <p class="i1">The silent foot in the wood,</p> +<p>In the land of a strange, outlandish tongue</p> + <p class="i1">That was hard to be understood.</p> + +<p class="s">It fell about the gloaming,</p> + <p class="i1">The general stood with his staff,</p> +<p>He stood and he looked east and west</p> + <p class="i1">With little mind to laugh.</p> +<p>“Far have I been, and much have I seen,</p> + <p class="i1">And kennt both gain and loss,</p> +<p>But here we have woods on every hand</p> + <p class="i1">And a kittle water to cross.</p> +<p>Far have I been, and much have I seen,</p> + <p class="i1">But never the beat of this;</p> +<p>And there’s one must go down to that water-side</p> + <p class="i1">To see how deep it is.”</p> + +<p class="s">It fell in the dusk of the night</p> + <p class="i1">When unco things betide,</p> +<p>The skilly captain, the Cameron,</p> + <p class="i1">Went down to that waterside.</p> +<p>Canny and soft the captain went;</p> + <p class="i1">And a man of the woody land,</p> +<p>With the shaven head and the painted face,</p> + <p class="i1">Went down at his right hand.</p> +<p>It fell in the quiet night,</p> + <p class="i1">There was never a sound to ken;</p> +<p>But all of the woods to the right and the left</p> + <p class="i1">Lay filled with the painted men.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page197"></a>197</span></p> + +<p class="s">“Far have I been, and much have I seen,</p> + <p class="i1">Both as a man and boy,</p> +<p>But never have I set forth a foot,</p> + <p class="i1">On so perilous an employ.”</p> +<p>It fell in the dusk of the night</p> + <p class="i1">When unco things betide,</p> +<p>That he was aware of a captain-man</p> + <p class="i1">Drew near to the water-side.</p> +<p>He was aware of his coming</p> + <p class="i1">Down in the gloaming alone;</p> +<p>And he looked in the face of the man,</p> + <p class="i1">And lo! the face was his own.</p> +<p>“This is my weird,” he said,</p> + <p class="i1">“And now I ken the worst;</p> +<p>For many shall fall the morn,</p> + <p class="i1">But I shall fall with the first.</p> +<p>O, you of the outland tongue,</p> + <p class="i1">You of the painted face,</p> +<p>This is the place of my death;</p> + <p class="i1">Can you tell me the name of the place?”</p> + +<p class="s">“Since the Frenchmen have been here</p> + <p class="i1">They have called it Sault-Marie;</p> +<p>But that is a name for priests,</p> + <p class="i1">And not for you and me.</p> +<p>It went by another word,”</p> + <p class="i1">Quoth he of the shaven head:</p> +<p>“It was called Ticonderoga</p> + <p class="i1">In the days of the great dead.”</p> +<p>And it fell on the morrow’s morning,</p> + <p class="i1">In the fiercest of the fight,</p> +<p>That the Cameron bit the dust</p> + <p class="i1">As he foretold at night;</p> +<p>And far from the hills of heather,</p> + <p class="i1">Far from the isles of the sea,</p> +<p>He sleeps in the place of the name</p> + <p class="i1">As it was doomed to be.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page198"></a>198</span></p> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page199"></a>199</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>HEATHER ALE</h3> + +<h4>A GALLOWAY LEGEND</h4> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page200"></a>200</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page201"></a>201</span></p> +<h3>HEATHER ALE</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">From</span> the bonny bells of heather</p> + <p class="i1">They brewed a drink long-syne,</p> +<p>Was sweeter far than honey,</p> + <p class="i1">Was stronger far than wine.</p> +<p>They brewed it and they drank it,</p> + <p class="i1">And lay in a blessed swound</p> +<p>For days and days together</p> + <p class="i1">In their dwellings underground.</p> + +<p class="s">There rose a king in Scotland,</p> + <p class="i1">A fell man to his foes,</p> +<p>He smote the Picts in battle,</p> + <p class="i1">He hunted them like roes.</p> +<p>Over miles of the red mountain</p> + <p class="i1">He hunted as they fled,</p> +<p>And strewed the dwarfish bodies</p> + <p class="i1">Of the dying and the dead.</p> + +<p class="s">Summer came in the country,</p> + <p class="i1">Red was the heather bell;</p> +<p>But the manner of the brewing</p> + <p class="i1">Was none alive to tell.</p> +<p>In the graves that were like children’s</p> + <p class="i1">On many a mountain head,</p> +<p>The Brewsters of the Heather</p> + <p class="i1">Lay numbered with the dead.</p> + +<p class="s">The king in the red moorland</p> + <p class="i1">Rode on a summer’s day;</p> +<p>And the bees hummed, and the curlews</p> + <p class="i1">Cried beside the way.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page202"></a>202</span></p> +<p>The king rode, and was angry,</p> + <p class="i1">Black was his brow and pale,</p> +<p>To rule in a land of heather</p> + <p class="i1">And lack the Heather Ale.</p> + +<p class="s">It fortuned that his vassals,</p> + <p class="i1">Riding free on the heath,</p> +<p>Came on a stone that was fallen</p> + <p class="i1">And vermin hid beneath.</p> +<p>Rudely plucked from their hiding,</p> + <p class="i1">Never a word they spoke:</p> +<p>A son and his aged father—</p> + <p class="i1">Last of the dwarfish folk.</p> + +<p class="s">The king sat high on his charger,</p> + <p class="i1">He looked on the little men;</p> +<p>And the dwarfish and swarthy couple</p> + <p class="i1">Looked at the king again.</p> +<p>Down by the shore he had them;</p> + <p class="i1">And there on the giddy brink—</p> +<p>“I will give you life, ye vermin,</p> + <p class="i1">For the secret of the drink.”</p> + +<p class="s">There stood the son and father;</p> + <p class="i1">And they looked high and low;</p> +<p>The heather was red around them,</p> + <p class="i1">The sea rumbled below.</p> +<p>And up and spoke the father,</p> + <p class="i1">Shrill was his voice to hear:</p> +<p>“I have a word in private,</p> + <p class="i1">A word for the royal ear.</p> + +<p class="s">“Life is dear to the aged,</p> + <p class="i1">And honour a little thing;</p> +<p>I would gladly sell the secret,”</p> + <p class="i1">Quoth the Pict to the king.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page203"></a>203</span></p> +<p>His voice was small as a sparrow’s,</p> + <p class="i1">And shrill and wonderful clear;</p> +<p>“I would gladly sell my secret,</p> + <p class="i1">Only my son I fear.</p> + +<p class="s">“For life is a little matter,</p> + <p class="i1">And death is nought to the young;</p> +<p>And I dare not sell my honour</p> + <p class="i1">Under the eye of my son.</p> +<p>Take <i>him</i>, O king, and bind him,</p> + <p class="i1">And cast him far in the deep:</p> +<p>And it’s I will tell the secret,</p> + <p class="i1">That I have sworn to keep.”</p> + +<p class="s">They took the son and bound him,</p> + <p class="i1">Neck and heels in a thong,</p> +<p>And a lad took him and swung him,</p> + <p class="i1">And flung him far and strong,</p> +<p>And the sea swallowed his body,</p> + <p class="i1">Like that of a child of ten;—</p> +<p>And there on the cliff stood the father,</p> + <p class="i1">Last of the dwarfish men.</p> + +<p class="s">“True was the word I told you:</p> + <p class="i1">Only my son I feared;</p> +<p>For I doubt the sapling courage</p> + <p class="i1">That goes without the beard.</p> +<p>But now in vain is the torture,</p> + <p class="i1">Fire shall never avail;</p> +<p>Here dies in my bosom</p> + <p class="i1">The secret of Heather Ale.”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page204"></a>204</span></p> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page205"></a>205</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>CHRISTMAS AT SEA</h3> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page206"></a>206</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page207"></a>207</span></p> +<h3>CHRISTMAS AT SEA</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;</p> +<p>The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;</p> +<p>The wind was a nor’-wester, blowing squally off the sea;</p> +<p>And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.</p> + +<p class="s">They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;</p> +<p>But ’twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.</p> +<p>We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,</p> +<p>And we gave her the maintops’l, and stood by to go about.</p> + +<p class="s">All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;</p> +<p>All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;</p> +<p>All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,</p> +<p>For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.</p> + +<p class="s">We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;</p> +<p>But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard:</p> +<p>So’s we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,</p> +<p>And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page208"></a>208</span></p> + +<p class="s">The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;</p> +<p>The good red fires were burning bright in every ’long-shore home;</p> +<p>The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;</p> +<p>And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.</p> + +<p class="s">The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;</p> +<p>For it’s just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)</p> +<p>This day of our adversity was blessèd Christmas morn,</p> +<p>And the house above the coastguard’s was the house where I was born.</p> + +<p class="s">O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,</p> +<p>My mother’s silver spectacles, my father’s silver hair;</p> +<p>And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,</p> +<p>Go dancing round the china-plates that stand upon the shelves.</p> + +<p class="s">And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,</p> +<p>Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;</p> +<p>And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,</p> +<p>To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessèd Christmas Day.</p> + +<p class="s">They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.</p> +<p>“All hands to loose topgallant sails,” I heard the captain call.</p> +<p>“By the Lord, she’ll never stand it,” our first mate, Jackson, cried.</p> +<p>... “It’s the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson,” he replied.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page209"></a>209</span></p> + +<p class="s">She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,</p> +<p>And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood,</p> +<p>As the winter’s day was ending, in the entry of the night,</p> +<p>We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.</p> + +<p class="s">And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,</p> +<p>As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;</p> +<p>But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,</p> +<p>Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page210"></a>210</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page211"></a>211</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>NOTES TO THE SONG OF RAHÉRO</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p><span class="sc">Introduction</span>.—This tale, of which I have not consciously changed +a single feature, I received from tradition. It is highly popular +through all the country of the eight Tevas, the clan to which Rahéro +belonged; and particularly in Taiárapu, the windward peninsula +of Tahiti, where he lived. I have heard from end to end two +versions; and as many as five different persons have helped me +with details. There seems no reason why the tale should not be +true.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1c" href="#FnAnchor_1c">Note 1</a>, page 140. “<i>The aito</i>,” <i>quasi</i> champion, or brave. One +skilled in the use of some weapon, who wandered the country +challenging distinguished rivals and taking part in local quarrels. +It was in the natural course of his advancement to be at last employed +by a chief, or king; and it would then be a part of his duties +to purvey the victim for sacrifice. One of the doomed families +was indicated; the aito took his weapon and went forth alone; +a little behind him bearers followed with the sacrificial basket. +Sometimes the victim showed fight, sometimes prevailed; more +often, without doubt, he fell. But whatever body was found, the +bearers indifferently took up.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2c" href="#FnAnchor_2c">Note 2</a>, page 141. “<i>Pai</i>,” “<i>Honoura</i>,” and “<i>Ahupu</i>.” Legendary +persons of Tahiti, all natives of Taiárapu. Of the first two I +have collected singular although imperfect legends, which I hope +soon to lay before the public in another place. Of Ahupu, except +in snatches of song, little memory appears to linger. She dwelt at +least about Tepari,—“the sea-cliffs,”—the eastern fastness of the +isle; walked by paths known only to herself upon the mountains; +was courted by dangerous suitors who came swimming from adjacent +islands, and defended and rescued (as I gather) by the loyalty +of native fish. My anxiety to learn more of “Ahupu Vehine” +became (during my stay in Taiárapu) a cause of some diversion +to that mirthful people, the inhabitants.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_3c" href="#FnAnchor_3c">Note 3</a>, page 142. “<i>Covered an oven.</i>” The cooking fire is made +in a hole in the ground, and is then buried.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_4c" href="#FnAnchor_4c">Note 4</a>, page 143. “<i>Flies.</i>” This is perhaps an anachronism. +Even speaking of to-day in Tahiti, the phrase would have to be +understood as referring mainly to mosquitoes, and these only in +watered valleys with close woods, such as I suppose to form the +surroundings of Rahéro’s homestead. A quarter of a mile away, +where the air moves freely, you shall look in vain for one.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page212"></a>212</span></p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_5c" href="#FnAnchor_5c">Note 5</a>, page 144. “<i>Hook</i>” of mother-of-pearl. Bright-hook fishing, +and that with the spear, appear to be the favourite native methods.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_6c" href="#FnAnchor_6c">Note 6</a>, page 145. “<i>Leaves</i>,” the plates of Tahiti.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_7c" href="#FnAnchor_7c">Note 7</a>, page 146. “<i>Yottowas</i>,” so spelt for convenience of +pronunciation, <i>quasi</i> Tacksmen in the Scottish Highlands. The +organisation of eight sub-districts and eight yottowas to a division, +which was in use (until yesterday) among the Tevas, I have +attributed without authority to the next clan (see page 155).</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_8c" href="#FnAnchor_8c">Note 8</a>, page 146. “<i>Omare</i>,” pronounce as a dactyl. A loaded +quarterstaff, one of the two favourite weapons of the Tahitian +brave; the javelin, or casting spear, was the other.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_9c" href="#FnAnchor_9c">Note 9</a>, page 148. “<i>The ribbon of light.</i>” Still to be seen (and +heard) spinning from one marae to another on Tahiti; or so I have +it upon evidence that would rejoice the Psychical Society.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_10c" href="#FnAnchor_10c">Note 10</a>, page 149. “<i>Námunu-úra.</i>” The complete name is +Námunu-úra te aropa. Why it should be pronounced Námunu, +dactylically, I cannot see, but so I have always heard it. This +was the clan immediately beyond the Tevas on the south coast +of the island. At the date of the tale the clan organisation must +have been very weak. There is no particular mention of Támatéa’s +mother going to Papara, to the head chief of her own clan, which +would appear her natural recourse. On the other hand, she seems +to have visited various lesser chiefs among the Tevas, and these +to have excused themselves solely on the danger of the enterprise. +The broad distinction here drawn between Nateva and Námunu-úra +is therefore not impossibly anachronistic.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_11c" href="#FnAnchor_11c">Note 11</a>, page 149. “<i>Hiopa the king.</i>” Hiopa was really the +name of the king (chief) of Vaiau; but I could never learn that +of the king of Paea—pronounce to rhyme with the Indian <i>ayah</i>—and +I gave the name where it was most needed. This note must +appear otiose indeed to readers who have never heard of either +of these two gentlemen; and perhaps there is only one person in +the world capable at once of reading my verses and spying the +inaccuracy. For him, for Mr. Tati Salmon, hereditary high chief +of the Tevas, the note is solely written: a small attention from a +clansman to his chief.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_12c" href="#FnAnchor_12c">Note 12</a>, page 150. “<i>Let the pigs be tapu.</i>” It is impossible to +explain <i>tapu</i> in a note; we have it as an English word, taboo. Suffice +it, that a thing which was <i>tapu</i> must not be touched, nor a place +that was <i>tapu</i> visited.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_13c" href="#FnAnchor_13c">Note 13</a>, page 155. “<i>Fish, the food of desire.</i>” There is a special +word in the Tahitian language to signify <i>hungering after fish</i>. I may +remark that here is one of my chief difficulties about the whole +story. How did king, commons, women, and all come to eat +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page213"></a>213</span> +together at this feast? But it troubled none of my numerous +authorities; so there must certainly be some natural explanation.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_14c" href="#FnAnchor_14c">Note 14</a>, page 160. “<i>The mustering word of the clan.</i>”</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><i>Teva te ua,</i></p> +<p><i>Teva te matai!</i></p> + +<p class="s">Teva the wind,</p> +<p>Teva the rain!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>Notes <a name="Footnote_15c" href="#FnAnchor_15c">15</a> and <a name="Footnote_16c" href="#FnAnchor_16c">16</a>, page 165. “<i>The star of the dead.</i>” Venus as +a morning star. I have collected much curious evidence as to +this belief. The dead retain their taste for a fish diet, enter into +copartnery with living fishers, and haunt the reef and the lagoon. +The conclusion attributed to the nameless lady of the legend would +be reached to-day, under the like circumstances, by ninety per cent. +of Polynesians: and here I probably under-state by one-tenth.</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>NOTES TO THE FEAST OF FAMINE</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>In this ballad I have strung together some of the more striking +particularities of the Marquesas. It rests upon no authority; +it is in no sense, like “Rahéro,” a native story; but a patchwork +of details of manners and the impressions of a traveller. It may +seem strange, when the scene is laid upon these profligate islands, +to make the story hinge on love. But love is not less known in the +Marquesas than elsewhere; nor is there any cause of suicide more +common in the islands.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1d" href="#FnAnchor_1d">Note 1</a>, page 169. “<i>Pit of popoi.</i>” Where the bread-fruit was +stored for preservation.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2d" href="#FnAnchor_2d">Note 2</a>, page 169. “<i>Ruby-red.</i>” The priest’s eyes were probably +red from the abuse of kava. His beard (<i>ib.</i>) is said to be worth an +estate; for the beards of old men are the favourite head-adornment +of the Marquesans, as the hair of women formed their most costly +girdle. The former, among this generally beardless and short-lived +people, fetch to-day considerable sums.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_3d" href="#FnAnchor_3d">Note 3</a>, page 169. “<i>Tikis.</i>” The tiki is an ugly image hewn out +of wood or stone.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_4d" href="#FnAnchor_4d">Note 4</a>, page 172. “<i>The one-stringed harp.</i>” Usually employed +for serenades.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_5d" href="#FnAnchor_5d">Note 5</a>, page 173. “<i>The sacred cabin of palm.</i>” Which, however, +no woman could approach. I do not know where women were +tattooed; probably in the common house, or in the bush, for a +woman was a creature of small account. I must guard the reader +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page214"></a>214</span> +against supposing Taheia was at all disfigured; the art of the +Marquesan tattooer is extreme; and she would appear to be clothed +in a web of lace, inimitably delicate, exquisite in pattern, and of a +bluish hue that at once contrasts and harmonises with the warm +pigment of the native skin. It would be hard to find a woman +more becomingly adorned than “a well-tattooed” Marquesan.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_6d" href="#FnAnchor_6d">Note 6</a>, page 175. “<i>The horror of night.</i>” The Polynesian fear +of ghosts and of the dark has been already referred to. Their life +is beleaguered by the dead.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_7d" href="#FnAnchor_7d">Note 7</a>, page 176. “<i>The quiet passage of souls.</i>” So, I am told, +the natives explain the sound of a little wind passing overhead unfelt.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_8d" href="#FnAnchor_8d">Note 8</a>, page 178. “<i>The first of the victims fell.</i>” Without +doubt, this whole scene is untrue to fact. The victims were disposed +of privately and some time before. And indeed I am far from +claiming the credit of any high degree of accuracy for this ballad. +Even in the time of famine, it is probable that Marquesan life went +far more gaily than is here represented. But the melancholy of +to-day lies on the writer’s mind.</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>NOTES TO TICONDEROGA</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p><span class="sc">Introduction.</span>—I first heard this legend of my own country from +that friend of men of letters, Mr. Alfred Nutt, “there in roaring +London’s central stream,” and since the ballad first saw the +light of day in <i>Scribner’s Magazine</i>, Mr. Nutt and Lord Archibald +Campbell have been in public controversy on the facts. Two clans, +the Camerons and the Campbells, lay claim to this bracing story; +and they do well: the man who preferred his plighted troth to the +commands and menaces of the dead is an ancestor worth disputing. +But the Campbells must rest content: they have the broad lands +and the broad page of history; this appanage must be denied them; +for between the name of <i>Cameron</i> and that of <i>Campbell</i> the muse +will never hesitate.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1e" href="#FnAnchor_1e">Note 1</a>, page 191. Mr. Nutt reminds me it was “by my sword +and Ben Cruachan” the Cameron swore.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2e" href="#FnAnchor_2e">Note 2</a>, page 194. “<i>A periwig’d lord of London.</i>” The first Pitt.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_3e" href="#FnAnchor_3e">Note 3</a>, page 195. “<i>Cathay.</i>” There must be some omission in +General Stewart’s charming “History of the Highland Regiments,” +a book that might well be republished and continued; or it scarce +appears how our friend could have got to China.</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page215"></a>215</span></p> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>NOTE TO HEATHER ALE</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>Among the curiosities of human nature this legend claims a high +place. It is needless to remind the reader that the Picts were never +exterminated, and form to this day a large proportion of the folk +of Scotland, occupying the eastern and the central parts, from the +Firth of Forth, or perhaps the Lammermoors, upon the south, +to the Ord of Caithness on the north. That the blundering guess +of a dull chronicler should have inspired men with imaginary +loathing for their own ancestors is already strange; that it should +have begotten this wild legend seems incredible. Is it possible the +chronicler’s error was merely nominal? that what he told, and what +the people proved themselves so ready to receive, about the Picts, +was true or partly true of some anterior and perhaps Lappish +savages, small of stature, black of hue, dwelling underground—possibly +also the distillers of some forgotten spirit? See Mr. +Campbell’s “Tales of the West Highlands.”</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page216"></a>216</span></p> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page217"></a>217</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>SONGS OF TRAVEL</h2> +<h3>AND OTHER VERSES</h3> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page218"></a>218</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page219"></a>219</span></p> +<h2>SONGS OF TRAVEL</h2> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>I</h5> + +<h3>THE VAGABOND</h3> + +<h6>(TO AN AIR OF SCHUBERT)</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Give</span> to me the life I love,</p> + <p class="i1">Let the lave go by me,</p> +<p>Give the jolly heaven above</p> + <p class="i1">And the byway nigh me.</p> +<p>Bed in the bush with stars to see,</p> + <p class="i1">Bread I dip in the river—</p> +<p>There’s the life for a man like me,</p> + <p class="i1">There’s the life for ever.</p> + +<p class="s">Let the blow fall soon or late,</p> + <p class="i1">Let what will be o’er me;</p> +<p>Give the face of earth around</p> + <p class="i1">And the road before me.</p> +<p>Wealth I seek not, hope nor love,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor a friend to know me;</p> +<p>All I seek, the heaven above</p> + <p class="i1">And the road below me.</p> + +<p class="s">Or let autumn fall on me</p> + <p class="i1">Where afield I linger,</p> +<p>Silencing the bird on tree,</p> + <p class="i1">Biting the blue finger.</p> +<p>White as meal the frosty field—</p> + <p class="i1">Warm the fireside haven—</p> +<p>Not to autumn will I yield,</p> + <p class="i1">Not to winter even!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page220"></a>220</span></p> + +<p class="s">Let the blow fall soon or late,</p> + <p class="i1">Let what will be o’er me;</p> +<p>Give the face of earth around,</p> + <p class="i1">And the road before me.</p> +<p>Wealth I ask not, hope nor love,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor a friend to know me.</p> +<p>All I ask, the heaven above</p> + <p class="i1">And the road below me.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>YOUTH AND LOVE—I</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Once</span> only by the garden gate</p> + <p class="i1">Our lips were joined and parted.</p> +<p>I must fulfil an empty fate</p> + <p class="i1">And travel the uncharted.</p> + +<p class="s">Hail and farewell! I must arise,</p> + <p class="i1">Leave here the fatted cattle,</p> +<p>And paint on foreign lands and skies</p> + <p class="i1">My Odyssey of battle.</p> + +<p class="s">The untented Kosmos my abode,</p> + <p class="i1">I pass, a wilful stranger:</p> +<p>My mistress still the open road</p> + <p class="i1">And the bright eyes of danger.</p> + +<p class="s">Come ill or well, the cross, the crown,</p> + <p class="i1">The rainbow or the thunder,</p> +<p>I fling my soul and body down</p> + <p class="i1">For God to plough them under.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page221"></a>221</span></p> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>YOUTH AND LOVE—II</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">To</span> the heart of youth the world is a highwayside.</p> +<p>Passing for ever, he fares; and on either hand,</p> +<p>Deep in the gardens golden pavilions hide,</p> +<p>Nestle in orchard bloom, and far on the level land</p> +<p>Call him with lighted lamp in the eventide.</p> + +<p class="s">Thick as the stars at night when the moon is down,</p> +<p>Pleasures assail him. He to his nobler fate</p> +<p>Fares; and but waves a hand as he passes on,</p> +<p>Cries but a wayside word to her at the garden gate,</p> +<p>Sings but a boyish stave and his face is gone.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> dreams, unhappy, I behold you stand</p> + <p class="i4">As heretofore:</p> +<p>The unremembered tokens in your hand</p> + <p class="i4">Avail no more.</p> + +<p class="s">No more the morning glow, no more the grace,</p> + <p class="i4">Enshrines, endears.</p> +<p>Cold beats the light of time upon your face</p> + <p class="i4">And shows your tears.</p> + +<p class="s">He came and went. Perchance you wept a while</p> + <p class="i4">And then forgot.</p> +<p>Ah, me! but he that left you with a smile</p> + <p class="i4">Forgets you not.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page222"></a>222</span></p> +<h5>V</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">She</span> rested by the Broken Brook,</p> + <p class="i1">She drank of Weary Well,</p> +<p>She moved beyond my lingering look,</p> + <p class="i1">Ah, whither none can tell!</p> + +<p class="s">She came, she went. In other lands,</p> + <p class="i1">Perchance in fairer skies,</p> +<p>Her hands shall cling with other hands,</p> + <p class="i1">Her eyes to other eyes.</p> + +<p class="s">She vanished. In the sounding town,</p> + <p class="i1">Will she remember too?</p> +<p>Will she recall the eyes of brown</p> + <p class="i1">As I recall the blue?</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> infinite shining heavens</p> + <p class="i1">Rose and I saw in the night</p> +<p>Uncountable angel stars</p> + <p class="i1">Showering sorrow and light.</p> + +<p class="s">I saw them distant as heaven,</p> + <p class="i1">Dumb and shining and dead,</p> +<p>And the idle stars of the night</p> + <p class="i1">Were dearer to me than bread.</p> + +<p class="s">Night after night in my sorrow</p> + <p class="i1">The stars stood over the sea,</p> +<p>Till lo! I looked in the dusk</p> + <p class="i1">And a star had come down to me.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page223"></a>223</span></p> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Plain</span> as the glistering planets shine</p> + <p class="i1">When winds have cleaned the skies,</p> +<p>Her love appeared, appealed for mine</p> + <p class="i1">And wantoned in her eyes.</p> + +<p class="s">Clear as the shining tapers burned</p> + <p class="i1">On Cytherea’s shrine,</p> +<p>Those brimming, lustrous beauties turned,</p> + <p class="i1">And called and conquered mine.</p> + +<p class="s">The beacon-lamp that Hero lit</p> + <p class="i1">No fairer shone on sea,</p> +<p>No plainlier summoned will and wit,</p> + <p class="i1">Than hers encouraged me.</p> + +<p class="s">I thrilled to feel her influence near,</p> + <p class="i1">I struck my flag at sight.</p> +<p>Her starry silence smote my ear</p> + <p class="i1">Like sudden drums at night.</p> + +<p class="s">I ran as, at the cannon’s roar,</p> + <p class="i1">The troops the ramparts man—</p> +<p>As in the holy house of yore</p> + <p class="i1">The willing Eli ran.</p> + +<p class="s">Here, lady, lo! that servant stands</p> + <p class="i1">You picked from passing men,</p> +<p>And should you need nor heart nor hands</p> + <p class="i1">He bows and goes again.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page224"></a>224</span></p> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">To</span> you, let snow and roses</p> + <p class="i1">And golden locks belong.</p> +<p>These are the world’s enslavers,</p> + <p class="i1">Let these delight the throng.</p> +<p>For her of duskier lustre</p> + <p class="i1">Whose favour still I wear,</p> +<p>The snow be in her kirtle,</p> + <p class="i1">The rose be in her hair!</p> + +<p class="s">The hue of highland rivers</p> + <p class="i1">Careering, full and cool,</p> +<p>From sable on to golden,</p> + <p class="i1">From rapid on to pool—</p> +<p>The hue of heather-honey,</p> + <p class="i1">The hue of honey-bees,</p> +<p>Shall tinge her golden shoulder,</p> + <p class="i1">Shall gild her tawny knees.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Let</span> Beauty awake in the morn from beautiful dreams,</p> + <p class="i5">Beauty awake from rest!</p> + <p class="i5">Let Beauty awake</p> + <p class="i5">For Beauty’s sake</p> +<p>In the hour when the birds awake in the brake</p> + <p class="i5">And the stars are bright in the west!</p> + +<p class="s">Let Beauty awake in the eve from the slumber of day,</p> + <p class="i5">Awake in the crimson eve!</p> + <p class="i5">In the day’s dusk end</p> + <p class="i5">When the shades ascend,</p> +<p>Let her wake to the kiss of a tender friend</p> + <p class="i5">To render again and receive!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page225"></a>225</span></p> +<h5>X</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I know</span> not how it is with you—</p> + <p class="i1">I love the first and last,</p> +<p>The whole field of the present view,</p> + <p class="i1">The whole flow of the past.</p> + +<p class="s">One tittle of the things that are,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor you should change nor I—</p> +<p>One pebble in our path—one star</p> + <p class="i1">In all our heaven of sky.</p> + +<p class="s">Our lives, and every day and hour,</p> + <p class="i1">One symphony appear:</p> +<p>One road, one garden—every flower</p> + <p class="i1">And every bramble dear.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XI</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I will</span> make you brooches and toys for your delight</p> +<p>Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.</p> +<p>I will make a palace fit for you and me</p> +<p>Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.</p> + +<p class="s">I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,</p> +<p>Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,</p> +<p>And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white</p> +<p>In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.</p> + +<p class="s">And this shall be for music when no one else is near,</p> +<p>The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear!</p> +<p>That only I remember, that only you admire,</p> +<p>Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page226"></a>226</span></p> +<h5>XII</h5> + +<h3>WE HAVE LOVED OF YORE</h3> + +<h6>(TO AN AIR OF DIABELLI)</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Berried</span> brake and reedy island,</p> + <p class="i1">Heaven below, and only heaven above,</p> +<p>Through the sky’s inverted azure</p> + <p class="i1">Softly swam the boat that bore our love.</p> + <p class="i5">Bright were your eyes as the day;</p> + <p class="i5">Bright ran the stream,</p> + <p class="i5">Bright hung the sky above.</p> +<p>Days of April, airs of Eden,</p> + <p class="i1">How the glory died through golden hours,</p> +<p>And the shining moon arising,</p> + <p class="i1">How the boat drew homeward filled with flowers!</p> + <p class="i5">Bright were your eyes in the night:</p> + <p class="i5">We have lived, my love—</p> + <p class="i5">O, we have loved, my love.</p> + +<p class="s">Frost has bound our flowing river,</p> + <p class="i1">Snow has whitened all our island brake,</p> +<p>And beside the winter fagot</p> + <p class="i1">Joan and Darby doze and dream and wake.</p> + <p class="i5">Still, in the river of dreams,</p> + <p class="i5">Swims the boat of love—</p> + <p class="i5">Hark! chimes the falling oar!</p> +<p>And again in winter evens</p> + <p class="i1">When on firelight dreaming fancy feeds,</p> +<p>In those ears of agèd lovers</p> + <p class="i1">Love’s own river warbles in the reeds.</p> + <p class="i5">Love still the past, O my love!</p> + <p class="i5">We have lived of yore,</p> + <p class="i5">O, we have loved of yore.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page227"></a>227</span></p> +<h5>XIII</h5> + +<h3>MATER TRIUMPHANS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Son</span> of my woman’s body, you go, to the drum and fife,</p> +<p>To taste the colour of love and the other side of life—</p> +<p>From out of the dainty the rude, the strong from out of the frail,</p> +<p>Eternally through the ages from the female comes the male.</p> + +<p class="s">The ten fingers and toes, and the shell-like nail on each,</p> +<p>The eyes blind as gems and the tongue attempting speech;</p> +<p>Impotent hands in my bosom, and yet they shall wield the sword!</p> +<p>Drugged with slumber and milk, you wait the day of the Lord.</p> + +<p class="s">Infant bridegroom, uncrowned king, unanointed priest,</p> +<p>Soldier, lover, explorer, I see you nuzzle the breast.</p> +<p>You that grope in my bosom shall load the ladies with rings,</p> +<p>You, that came forth through the doors, shall burst the doors of kings.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIV</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Bright</span> is the ring of words</p> + <p class="i1">When the right man rings them,</p> +<p>Fair the fall of songs</p> + <p class="i1">When the singer sings them.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page228"></a>228</span></p> +<p>Still they are carolled and said—</p> + <p class="i1">On wings they are carried—</p> +<p>After the singer is dead</p> + <p class="i1">And the maker buried.</p> + +<p class="s">Low as the singer lies</p> + <p class="i1">In the field of heather,</p> +<p>Songs of his fashion bring</p> + <p class="i1">The swains together.</p> +<p>And when the west is red</p> + <p class="i1">With the sunset embers,</p> +<p>The lover lingers and sings</p> + <p class="i1">And the maid remembers.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XV</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> the highlands, in the country places,</p> +<p>Where the old plain men have rosy faces,</p> +<p>And the young fair maidens</p> +<p>Quiet eyes;</p> +<p>Where essential silence cheers and blesses,</p> +<p>And for ever in the hill-recesses</p> +<p><i>Her</i> more lovely music</p> +<p>Broods and dies.</p> + +<p class="s">O to mount again where erst I haunted;</p> +<p>Where the old red hills are bird-enchanted,</p> +<p>And the low green meadows</p> +<p>Bright with sward;</p> +<p>And when even dies, the million-tinted,</p> +<p>And the night has come, and planets glinted,</p> +<p>Lo, the valley hollow</p> +<p>Lamp-bestarred!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page229"></a>229</span></p> + +<p class="s">O to dream, O to awake and wander</p> +<p>There, and with delight to take and render,</p> +<p>Through the trance of silence,</p> +<p>Quiet breath;</p> +<p>Lo! for there, among the flowers and grasses,</p> +<p>Only the mightier movement sounds and passes;</p> +<p>Only winds and rivers,</p> +<p>Life and death.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVI</h5> + +<h6>(TO THE TUNE OF WANDERING WILLIE)</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Home</span> no more home to me, whither must I wander?</p> + <p class="i1">Hunger my driver, I go where I must.</p> +<p>Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather;</p> + <p class="i1">Thick drives the rain, and my roof is in the dust.</p> +<p>Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree,</p> + <p class="i1">The true word of welcome was spoken in the door—</p> +<p>Dear days of old, with the faces in the firelight,</p> + <p class="i1">Kind folks of old, you come again no more.</p> + +<p class="s">Home was home then, my dear, full of kindly faces,</p> + <p class="i1">Home was home then, my dear, happy for the child.</p> +<p>Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland;</p> + <p class="i1">Song, tuneful song, built a palace in the wild.</p> +<p>Now, when day dawns on the brow of the moorland,</p> + <p class="i1">Lone stands the house, and the chimney-stone is cold.</p> +<p>Lone let it stand, now the friends are all departed,</p> + <p class="i1">The kind hearts, the true hearts, that loved the place of old.</p> + +<p class="s">Spring shall come, come again, calling up the moor-fowl,</p> + <p class="i1">Spring shall bring the sun and rain, bring the bees and flowers;</p> +<p>Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley,</p> + <p class="i1">Soft flow the stream through the even-flowing hours;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page230"></a>230</span></p> +<p>Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood—</p> + <p class="i1">Fair shine the day on the house with open door;</p> +<p>Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney—</p> + <p class="i1">But I go for ever and come again no more.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVII</h5> + +<h3>WINTER</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> rigorous hours, when down the iron lane</p> +<p>The redbreast looks in vain</p> +<p>For hips and haws,</p> +<p>Lo, shining flowers upon my window-pane</p> +<p>The silver pencil of the winter draws.</p> + +<p class="s">When all the snowy hill</p> +<p>And the bare woods are still;</p> +<p>When snipes are silent in the frozen bogs,</p> +<p>And all the garden garth is whelmed in mire,</p> +<p>Lo, by the hearth, the laughter of the logs—</p> +<p>More fair than roses, lo, the flowers of fire!</p> + +<p class="scs s mi1">Saranac Lake.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XVIII</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> stormy evening closes now in vain,</p> +<p>Loud wails the wind and beats the driving rain,</p> + <p class="i4">While here in sheltered house</p> + <p class="i4">With fire-ypainted walls,</p> + <p class="i4">I hear the wind abroad,</p> + <p class="i4">I hark the calling squalls—</p> +<p>“Blow, blow,” I cry, “you burst your cheeks in vain!</p> +<p>Blow, blow,” I cry, “my love is home again!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page231"></a>231</span></p> + +<p class="s">Yon ship you chase perchance but yesternight</p> +<p>Bore still the precious freight of my delight,</p> + <p class="i4">That here in sheltered house</p> + <p class="i4">With fire-ypainted walls,</p> + <p class="i4">Now hears the wind abroad,</p> + <p class="i4">Now harks the calling squalls.</p> +<p>“Blow, blow,” I cry, “in vain you rouse the sea,</p> +<p>My rescued sailor shares the fire with me!”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIX</h5> + +<h3>TO DR. HAKE</h3> + +<h6>(ON RECEIVING A COPY OF VERSES)</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> the belovèd hour that ushers day,</p> +<p>In the pure dew, under the breaking grey,</p> +<p>One bird, ere yet the woodland quires awake,</p> +<p>With brief réveillé summons all the brake:</p> +<p><i>Chirp</i>, <i>chirp</i>, it goes; nor waits an answer long;</p> +<p>And that small signal fills the grove with song.</p> + +<p class="s">Thus on my pipe I breathed a strain or two;</p> +<p>It scarce was music, but ’twas all I knew.</p> +<p>It was not music, for I lacked the art,</p> +<p>Yet what but frozen music filled my heart?</p> +<p><i>Chirp</i>, <i>chirp</i>, I went, nor hoped a nobler strain;</p> +<p>But Heaven decreed I should not pipe in vain,</p> +<p>For, lo! not far from there, in secret dale,</p> +<p>All silent, sat an ancient nightingale.</p> +<p>My sparrow notes he heard; thereat awoke;</p> +<p>And with a tide of song his silence broke.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page232"></a>232</span></p> +<h5>XX</h5> + +<h3>TO ——</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I knew</span> thee strong and quiet like the hills;</p> +<p>I knew thee apt to pity, brave to endure,</p> +<p>In peace or war a Roman full equipt;</p> +<p>And just I knew thee, like the fabled kings</p> +<p>Who by the loud sea-shore gave judgment forth,</p> +<p>From dawn to eve, bearded and few of words.</p> +<p>What, what, was I to honour thee? A child;</p> +<p>A youth in ardour but a child in strength,</p> +<p>Who after virtue’s golden chariot-wheels</p> +<p>Runs ever panting, nor attains the goal.</p> +<p>So thought I, and was sorrowful at heart.</p> + +<p class="s">Since then my steps have visited that flood</p> +<p>Along whose shore the numerous footfalls cease,</p> +<p>The voices and the tears of life expire.</p> +<p>Thither the prints go down, the hero’s way</p> +<p>Trod large upon the sand, the trembling maid’s:</p> +<p>Nimrod that wound his trumpet in the wood,</p> +<p>And the poor, dreaming child, hunter of flowers,</p> +<p>That here his hunting closes with the great:</p> +<p>So one and all go down, nor aught returns.</p> + +<p class="s">For thee, for us, the sacred river waits,</p> +<p>For me, the unworthy, thee, the perfect friend;</p> +<p>There Blame desists, there his unfaltering dogs</p> +<p>He from the chase recalls, and homeward rides;</p> +<p>Yet Praise and Love pass over and go in.</p> +<p>So when, beside that margin, I discard</p> +<p>My more than mortal weakness, and with thee</p> +<p>Through that still land unfearing I advance;</p> +<p>If then at all we keep the touch of joy,</p> +<p>Thou shalt rejoice to find me altered—I,</p> +<p>O Felix, to behold thee still unchanged.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page233"></a>233</span></p> +<h5>XXI</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> morning drum-call on my eager ear</p> +<p>Thrills unforgotten yet; the morning dew</p> +<p>Lies yet undried along my field of noon.</p> +<p>But now I pause at whiles in what I do,</p> +<p>And count the bell, and tremble lest I hear</p> +<p>(My work untrimmed) the sunset gun too soon.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXII</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I have</span> trod the upward and the downward slope;</p> +<p>I have endured and done in days before;</p> +<p>I have longed for all, and bid farewell to hope;</p> +<p>And I have lived and loved, and closed the door.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIII</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">He</span> hears with gladdened heart the thunder</p> + <p class="i1">Peal, and loves the falling dew;</p> +<p>He knows the earth above and under—</p> + <p class="i1">Sits and is content to view.</p> + +<p class="s">He sits beside the dying ember,</p> + <p class="i1">God for hope and man for friend,</p> +<p>Content to see, glad to remember,</p> + <p class="i1">Expectant of the certain end.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIV</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Farewell</span>, fair day and fading light!</p> +<p>The clay-born here, with westward sight,</p> +<p>Marks the huge sun now downward soar.</p> +<p>Farewell. We twain shall meet no more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page234"></a>234</span></p> + +<p class="s">Farewell. I watch with bursting sigh</p> +<p>My late contemned occasion die.</p> +<p>I linger useless in my tent:</p> +<p>Farewell, fair day, so foully spent!</p> + +<p class="s">Farewell, fair day. If any God</p> +<p>At all consider this poor clod,</p> +<p>He who the fair occasion sent</p> +<p>Prepared and placed the impediment.</p> + +<p class="s">Let Him diviner vengeance take—</p> +<p>Give me to sleep, give me to wake</p> +<p>Girded and shod, and bid me play</p> +<p>The hero in the coming day!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXV</h5> + +<h3>IF THIS WERE FAITH</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">God</span>, if this were enough,</p> +<p>That I see things bare to the buff</p> +<p>And up to the buttocks in mire;</p> +<p>That I ask nor hope nor hire,</p> +<p>Nut in the husk,</p> +<p>Nor dawn beyond the dusk,</p> +<p>Nor life beyond death:</p> +<p>God, if this were faith?</p> + +<p class="s">Having felt Thy wind in my face</p> +<p>Spit sorrow and disgrace,</p> +<p>Having seen Thine evil doom</p> +<p>In Golgotha and Khartoum,</p> +<p>And the brutes, the work of Thine hands,</p> +<p>Fill with injustice lands</p> +<p>And stain with blood the sea:</p> +<p>If still in my veins the glee</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page235"></a>235</span></p> +<p>Of the black night and the sun</p> +<p>And the lost battle, run:</p> +<p>If, an adept,</p> +<p>The iniquitous lists I still accept</p> +<p>With joy, and joy to endure and be withstood,</p> +<p>And still to battle and perish for a dream of good:</p> +<p>God, if that were enough?</p> + +<p class="s">If to feel in the ink of the slough,</p> +<p>And the sink of the mire,</p> +<p>Veins of glory and fire</p> +<p>Run through and transpierce and transpire,</p> +<p>And a secret purpose of glory in every part,</p> +<p>And the answering glory of battle fill my heart;</p> +<p>To thrill with the joy of girded men,</p> +<p>To go on for ever and fail and go on again,</p> +<p>And be mauled to the earth and arise,</p> +<p>And contend for the shade of a word and a thing not seen with the eyes:</p> +<p>With the half of a broken hope for a pillow at night</p> +<p>That somehow the right is the right</p> +<p>And the smooth shall bloom from the rough:</p> +<p>Lord, if that were enough?</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVI</h5> + +<h3>MY WIFE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Trusty</span>, dusky, vivid, true,</p> +<p>With eyes of gold and bramble-dew,</p> +<p>Steel-true and blade-straight,</p> +<p>The great artificer</p> +<p>Made my mate.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page236"></a>236</span></p> + +<p class="s">Honour, anger, valour, fire;</p> +<p>A love that life could never tire,</p> +<p>Death quench or evil stir,</p> +<p>The mighty master</p> +<p>Gave to her.</p> + +<p class="s">Teacher, tender, comrade, wife,</p> +<p>A fellow-farer true through life,</p> +<p>Heart-whole and soul-free</p> +<p>The august father</p> +<p>Gave to me.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVII</h5> + +<h3>TO THE MUSE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Resign</span> the rhapsody, the dream,</p> + <p class="i1">To men of larger reach;</p> +<p>Be ours the quest of a plain theme,</p> + <p class="i1">The piety of speech.</p> + +<p class="s">As monkish scribes from morning break</p> + <p class="i1">Toiled till the close of light,</p> +<p>Nor thought a day too long to make</p> + <p class="i1">One line or letter bright:</p> + +<p class="s">We also with an ardent mind,</p> + <p class="i1">Time, wealth, and fame forgot,</p> +<p>Our glory in our patience find</p> + <p class="i1">And skim, and skim the pot:</p> + +<p class="s">Till last, when round the house we hear</p> + <p class="i1">The evensong of birds,</p> +<p>One corner of blue heaven appear</p> + <p class="i1">In our clear well of words.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page237"></a>237</span></p> + +<p class="s">Leave, leave it then, muse of my heart!</p> + <p class="i1">Sans finish and sans frame,</p> +<p>Leave unadorned by needless art</p> + <p class="i1">The picture as it came.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXVIII</h5> + +<h3>TO AN ISLAND PRINCESS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Since</span> long ago, a child at home,</p> +<p>I read and longed to rise and roam,</p> +<p>Where’er I went, whate’er I willed,</p> +<p>One promised land my fancy filled.</p> +<p>Hence the long roads my home I made;</p> +<p>Tossed much in ships; have often laid</p> +<p>Below the uncurtained sky my head,</p> +<p>Rain-deluged and wind-buffeted:</p> +<p>And many a thousand hills I crossed</p> +<p>And corners turned—Love’s labour lost,</p> +<p>Till, Lady, to your isle of sun</p> +<p>I came not hoping; and, like one</p> +<p>Snatched out of blindness, rubbed my eyes,</p> +<p>And hailed my promised land with cries.</p> + +<p class="s">Yes, Lady, here I was at last;</p> +<p>Here found I all I had forecast:</p> +<p>The long roll of the sapphire sea</p> +<p>That keeps the land’s virginity;</p> +<p>The stalwart giants of the wood</p> +<p>Laden with toys and flowers and food;</p> +<p>The precious forest pouring out</p> +<p>To compass the whole town about;</p> +<p>The town itself with streets of lawn,</p> +<p>Loved of the moon, blessed by the dawn,</p> +<p>Where the brown children all the day,</p> +<p>Keep up a ceaseless noise of play,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page238"></a>238</span></p> +<p>Play in the sun, play in the rain,</p> +<p>Nor ever quarrel or complain;—</p> +<p>And late at night, in the woods of fruit,</p> +<p>Hark I do you hear the passing flute?</p> + +<p class="s">I threw one look to either hand,</p> +<p>And knew I was in Fairyland.</p> +<p>And yet one point of being so</p> +<p>I lacked. For, Lady (as you know),</p> +<p>Whoever by his might of hand</p> +<p>Won entrance into Fairyland,</p> +<p>Found always with admiring eyes</p> +<p>A Fairy princess kind and wise.</p> +<p>It was not long I waited; soon</p> +<p>Upon my threshold, in broad noon,</p> +<p>Gracious and helpful, wise and good,</p> +<p>The Fairy Princess Moë stood.<a name="FnAnchor_1f" href="#Footnote_1f"><span class="sp">1</span></a></p> + +<p class="s mi2 f80"><span class="sc">Tantira, Tahiti</span>, <i>Nov. 5, 1888</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1f" href="#FnAnchor_1f"><span class="fn">1</span></a> This is the same Princess Moë whose charms of person and +disposition have been recorded by the late Lord Pembroke in “South +Sea Bubbles,” and by M. Pierre Loti in the “Mariage de Loti.”</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXIX</h5> + +<h3>TO KALAKAUA</h3> + +<h6>(WITH A PRESENT OF A PEARL)</h6> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> Silver Ship, my King—that was her name</p> +<p>In the bright islands whence your fathers came<a name="FnAnchor_1g" href="#Footnote_1g"><span class="sp">1</span></a>—</p> +<p>The Silver Ship, at rest from winds and tides,</p> +<p>Below your palace in your harbour rides:</p> +<p>And the seafarers, sitting safe on shore,</p> +<p>Like eager merchants count their treasures o’er.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page239"></a>239</span></p> +<p>One gift they find, one strange and lovely thing,</p> +<p>Now doubly precious since it pleased a king.</p> + +<p class="s">The right, my liege, is ancient as the lyre</p> +<p>For bards to give to kings what kings admire.</p> +<p>’Tis mine to offer for Apollo’s sake;</p> +<p>And since the gift is fitting, yours to take.</p> +<p>To golden hands the golden pearl I bring:</p> +<p>The ocean jewel to the island king.</p> + +<p class="s f80 mi2"><span class="sc">Honolulu</span>, <i>Feb. 3, 1889</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1g" href="#FnAnchor_1g"><span class="fn">1</span></a> The yacht <i>Casco</i> had been so called by the people of Fakarava +in Tahiti.</p> +</div> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXX</h5> + +<h3>TO PRINCESS KAIULANI</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>[Written in April to Kaiulani in the April of her age; and at +Waikiki, within easy walk of Kaiulani’s banyan! When she +comes to my land and her father’s, and the rain beats upon the +window (as I fear it will), let her look at this page; it will be like +a weed gathered and pressed at home; and she will remember +her own islands, and the shadow of the mighty tree; and she will +hear the peacocks screaming in the dusk and the wind blowing in the +palms; and she will think of her father sitting there alone.—R. L. S.]</p> +</div> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Forth</span> from her land to mine she goes,</p> +<p>The island maid, the island rose,</p> +<p>Light of heart and bright of face:</p> +<p>The daughter of a double race.</p> + +<p class="s">Her islands here, in Southern sun,</p> +<p>Shall mourn their Kaiulani gone,</p> +<p>And I, in her dear banyan shade,</p> +<p>Look vainly for my little maid.</p> + +<p class="s">But our Scots islands far away</p> +<p>Shall glitter with unwonted day,</p> +<p>And cast for once their tempests by</p> +<p>To smile in Kaiulani’s eye.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Honolulu.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page240"></a>240</span></p> +<h5>XXXI</h5> + +<h3>TO MOTHER MARYANNE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">To</span> see the infinite pity of this place,</p> +<p>The mangled limb, the devastated face,</p> +<p>The innocent sufferer smiling at the rod—</p> +<p>A fool were tempted to deny his God.</p> +<p>He sees, he shrinks. But if he gaze again,</p> +<p>Lo, beauty springing from the breast of pain;</p> +<p>He marks the sisters on the mournful shores;</p> +<p>And even a fool is silent and adores.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Guest House, Kalawao, Molokai.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXII</h5> + +<h3>IN MEMORIAM E.H.</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I knew</span> a silver head was bright beyond compare,</p> +<p>I knew a queen of toil with a crown of silver hair.</p> +<p>Garland of valour and sorrow, of beauty and renown,</p> +<p>Life, that honours the brave, crowned her himself with the crown.</p> + +<p class="s">The beauties of youth are frail, but this was a jewel of age.</p> +<p>Life, that delights in the brave, gave it himself for a gage.</p> +<p>Fair was the crown to behold, and beauty its poorest part—</p> +<p>At once the scar of the wound and the order pinned on the heart.</p> + +<p class="s">The beauties of man are frail, and the silver lies in the dust,</p> +<p>And the queen that we call to mind sleeps with the brave and the just;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page241"></a>241</span></p> +<p>Sleeps with the weary at length; but, honoured and ever fair,</p> +<p>Shines in the eye of the mind the crown of the silver hair.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Honolulu.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXIII</h5> + +<h3>TO MY WIFE</h3> + +<h6>(A FRAGMENT)</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Long</span> must elapse ere you behold again</p> +<p>Green forest frame the entry of the lane—</p> +<p>The wild lane with the bramble and the briar,</p> +<p>The year-old cart-tracks perfect in the mire,</p> +<p>The wayside smoke, perchance, the dwarfish huts,</p> +<p>And ramblers’ donkey drinking from the ruts:—</p> +<p>Long ere you trace how deviously it leads,</p> +<p>Back from man’s chimneys and the bleating meads</p> +<p>To the woodland shadow, to the silvan hush,</p> +<p>When but the brooklet chuckles in the brush—</p> +<p>Back from the sun and bustle of the vale</p> +<p>To where the great voice of the nightingale</p> +<p>Fills all the forest like a single room,</p> +<p>And all the banks smell of the golden broom;</p> +<p>So wander on until the eve descends,</p> +<p>And back returning to your firelit friends,</p> +<p>You see the rosy sun, despoiled of light,</p> +<p>Hung, caught in thickets, like a schoolboy’s kite.</p> + +<p class="s">Here from the sea the unfruitful sun shall rise,</p> +<p>Bathe the bare deck and blind the unshielded eyes;</p> +<p>The allotted hours aloft shall wheel in vain</p> +<p>And in the unpregnant ocean plunge again.</p> +<p>Assault of squalls that mock the watchful guard,</p> +<p>And pluck the bursting canvas from the yard,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page242"></a>242</span></p> +<p>And senseless clamour of the calm, at night</p> +<p>Must mar your slumbers. By the plunging light,</p> +<p>In beetle-haunted, most unwomanly bower</p> +<p>Of the wild-swerving cabin, hour by hour....</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Schooner</span> <i>Equator</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXIV</h5> + +<h3>TO MY OLD FAMILIARS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Do</span> you remember—can we e’er forget?—</p> +<p>How, in the coiled perplexities of youth,</p> +<p>In our wild climate, in our scowling town,</p> +<p>We gloomed and shivered, sorrowed, sobbed and feared?</p> +<p>The belching winter wind, the missile rain,</p> +<p>The rare and welcome silence of the snows,</p> +<p>The laggard morn, the haggard day, the night,</p> +<p>The grimy spell of the nocturnal town,</p> +<p>Do you remember?—Ah, could one forget!</p> +<p>As when the fevered sick that all night long</p> +<p>Listed the wind intone, and hear at last</p> +<p>The ever-welcome voice of chanticleer</p> +<p>Sing in the bitter hour before the dawn,—</p> +<p>With sudden ardour, these desire the day:</p> +<p>So sang in the gloom of youth the bird of hope;</p> +<p>So we, exulting, hearkened and desired.</p> +<p>For lo! as in the palace porch of life</p> +<p>We huddled with chimeras, from within—</p> +<p>How sweet to hear!—the music swelled and fell,</p> +<p>And through the breach of the revolving doors</p> +<p>What dreams of splendour blinded us and fled!</p> + +<p class="s">I have since then contended and rejoiced;</p> +<p>Amid the glories of the house of life</p> +<p>Profoundly entered, and the shrine beheld:</p> +<p>Yet when the lamp from my expiring eyes</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page243"></a>243</span></p> +<p>Shall dwindle and recede, the voice of love</p> +<p>Fall insignificant on my closing ears,</p> +<p>What sound shall come but the old cry of the wind</p> +<p>In our inclement city? what return</p> +<p>But the image of the emptiness of youth,</p> +<p>Filled with the sound of footsteps and that voice</p> +<p>Of discontent and rapture and despair?</p> +<p>So, as in darkness, from the magic lamp,</p> +<p>The momentary pictures gleam and fade</p> +<p>And perish, and the night resurges—these</p> +<p>Shall I remember, and then all forget.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Apemama.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXV</h5> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> tropics vanish, and meseems that I,</p> +<p>From Halkerside, from topmost Allermuir,</p> +<p>Or steep Caerketton, dreaming gaze again.</p> +<p>Far set in fields and woods, the town I see</p> +<p>Spring gallant from the shallows of her smoke,</p> +<p>Cragged, spired, and turreted, her virgin fort</p> +<p>Beflagged. About, on seaward-drooping hills,</p> +<p>New folds of city glitter. Last, the Forth</p> +<p>Wheels ample waters set with sacred isles,</p> +<p>And populous Fife smokes with a score of towns.</p> + +<p class="s">There, on the sunny frontage of a hill,</p> +<p>Hard by the house of kings, repose the dead,</p> +<p>My dead, the ready and the strong of word.</p> +<p>Their works, the salt-encrusted, still survive;</p> +<p>The sea bombards their founded towers; the night</p> +<p>Thrills pierced with their strong lamps. The artificers,</p> +<p>One after one, here in this grated cell,</p> +<p>Where the rain erases and the rust consumes,</p> +<p>Fell upon lasting silence. Continents</p> +<p>And continental oceans intervene;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page244"></a>244</span></p> +<p>A sea uncharted, on a lampless isle,</p> +<p>Environs and confines their wandering child</p> +<p>In vain. The voice of generations dead</p> +<p>Summons me, sitting distant, to arise,</p> +<p>My numerous footsteps nimbly to retrace,</p> +<p>And, all mutation over, stretch me down</p> +<p>In that denoted city of the dead.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Apemama.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVI</h5> + +<h3>TO S. C.</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I heard</span> the pulse of the besieging sea</p> +<p>Throb far away all night. I heard the wind</p> +<p>Fly crying and convulse tumultuous palms.</p> +<p>I rose and strolled. The isle was all bright sand,</p> +<p>And flailing fans and shadows of the palm;</p> +<p>The heaven all moon and wind and the blind vault;</p> +<p>The keenest planet slain, for Venus slept.</p> + <p class="i1">The king, my neighbour, with his host of wives,</p> +<p>Slept in the precinct of the palisade;</p> +<p>Where single, in the wind, under the moon,</p> +<p>Among the slumbering cabins, blazed a fire,</p> +<p>Sole street-lamp and the only sentinel.</p> + <p class="i1">To other lands and nights my fancy turned—</p> +<p>To London first, and chiefly to your house,</p> +<p>The many-pillared and the well-beloved.</p> +<p>There yearning fancy lighted; there again</p> +<p>In the upper room I lay, and heard far off</p> +<p>The unsleeping city murmur like a shell;</p> +<p>The muffled tramp of the Museum guard</p> +<p>Once more went by me; I beheld again</p> +<p>Lamps vainly brighten the dispeopled street;</p> +<p>Again I longed for the returning morn,</p> +<p>The awaking traffic, the bestirring birds,</p> +<p>The consentaneous trill of tiny song</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page245"></a>245</span></p> +<p>That weaves round monumental cornices</p> +<p>A passing charm of beauty. Most of all,</p> +<p>For your light foot I wearied, and your knock</p> +<p>That was the glad réveillé of my day.</p> + <p class="i1">Lo, now, when to your task in the great house</p> +<p>At morning through the portico you pass,</p> +<p>One moment glance, where by the pillared wall</p> +<p>Far-voyaging island gods, begrimed with smoke,</p> +<p>Sit now unworshipped, the rude monument</p> +<p>Of faiths forgot and races undivined;</p> +<p>Sit now disconsolate, remembering well</p> +<p>The priest, the victim, and the songful crowd,</p> +<p>The blaze of the blue noon, and that huge voice,</p> +<p>Incessant, of the breakers on the shore.</p> +<p>As far as these from their ancestral shrine,</p> +<p>So far, so foreign, your divided friends</p> +<p>Wander, estranged in body, not in mind.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Apemama.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVII</h5> + +<h3>THE HOUSE OF TEMBINOKA</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>[At my departure from the island of Apemama, for which you will +look in vain in most atlases, the King and I agreed, since we both +set up to be in the poetical way, that we should celebrate our +separation in verse. Whether or not his Majesty has been true +to his bargain, the laggard posts of the Pacific may perhaps inform +me in six months, perhaps not before a year. The following lines +represent my part of the contract, and it is hoped, by their pictures +of strange manners, they may entertain a civilised audience. Nothing +throughout has been invented or exaggerated; the lady herein +referred to as the author’s muse has confined herself to stringing +into rhyme facts or legends that I saw or heard during two months’ +residence upon the island.—R. L. S.]</p> +</div> + + +<h3><i>ENVOI</i></h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><i>Let us, who part like brothers, part like bards;</i></p> +<p><i>And you in your tongue and measure, I in mine,</i></p> +<p><i>Our now division duly solemnise.</i></p> +<p><i>Unlike the strains, and yet the theme is one:</i></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page246"></a>246</span></p> +<p><i>The strains unlike, and how unlike their fate!</i></p> +<p><i>You to the blinding palace-yard shall call</i></p> +<p><i>The prefect of the singers, and to him,</i></p> +<p><i>Listening devout, your valedictory verse</i></p> +<p><i>Deliver; he, his attribute fulfilled,</i></p> +<p><i>To the island chorus hand your measures on,</i></p> +<p><i>Wed now with harmony: so them, at last,</i></p> +<p><i>Night after night, in the open hall of dance,</i></p> +<p><i>Shall thirty matted men, to the clapped hand,</i></p> +<p><i>Intone and bray and bark. Unfortunate!</i></p> +<p><i>Paper and print alone shall honour mine.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h3>THE SONG</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Let</span> now the King his ear arouse</p> +<p>And toss the bosky ringlets from his brows,</p> +<p>The while, our bond to implement,</p> +<p>My muse relates and praises his descent.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>I</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Bride</span> of the shark, her valour first I sing</p> +<p>Who on the lone seas quickened of a King.</p> +<p>She, from the shore and puny homes of men,</p> +<p>Beyond the climber’s sea-discerning ken,</p> +<p>Swam, led by omens; and devoid of fear,</p> +<p>Beheld her monstrous paramour draw near.</p> +<p>She gazed; all round her to the heavenly pale,</p> +<p>The simple sea was void of isle or sail—</p> +<p>Sole overhead the unsparing sun was reared—</p> +<p>When the deep bubbled and the brute appeared.</p> +<p>But she, secure in the decrees of fate,</p> +<p>Made strong her bosom and received the mate,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page247"></a>247</span></p> +<p>And, men declare, from that marine embrace</p> +<p>Conceived the virtues of a stronger race.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Her</span> stern descendant next I praise,</p> +<p>Survivor of a thousand frays:—</p> +<p>In the hall of tongues who ruled the throng;</p> +<p>Led and was trusted by the strong;</p> +<p>And when spears were in the wood,</p> +<p>Like a tower of vantage stood:—</p> +<p>Whom, not till seventy years had sped,</p> +<p>Unscarred of breast, erect of head,</p> +<p>Still light of step, still bright of look,</p> +<p>The hunter, Death, had overtook.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">His</span> sons, the brothers twain, I sing.</p> +<p>Of whom the elder reigned a King.</p> +<p>No Childeric he, yet much declined</p> +<p>From his rude sire’s imperious mind,</p> +<p>Until his day came when he died,</p> +<p>He lived, he reigned, he versified.</p> +<p>But chiefly him I celebrate</p> +<p>That was the pillar of the state,</p> +<p>Ruled, wise of word and bold of mien,</p> +<p>The peaceful and the warlike scene;</p> +<p>And played alike the leader’s part</p> +<p>In lawful and unlawful art.</p> +<p>His soldiers with emboldened ears</p> +<p>Heard him laugh among the spears.</p> +<p>He could deduce from age to age</p> +<p>The web of island parentage;</p> +<p>Best lay the rhyme, best lead the dance,</p> +<p>For any festal circumstance:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page248"></a>248</span></p> +<p>And fitly fashion oar and boat,</p> +<p>A palace or an armour coat.</p> +<p>None more availed than he to raise</p> +<p>The strong, suffumigating blaze,</p> +<p>Or knot the wizard leaf: none more,</p> +<p>Upon the untrodden windward shore</p> +<p>Of the isle, beside the beating main,</p> +<p>To cure the sickly and constrain,</p> +<p>With muttered words and waving rods,</p> +<p>The gibbering and the whistling gods.</p> +<p>But he, though thus with hand and head</p> +<p>He ruled, commanded, charmed, and led,</p> +<p>And thus in virtue and in might</p> +<p>Towered to contemporary sight—</p> +<p>Still in fraternal faith and love,</p> +<p>Remained below to reach above,</p> +<p>Gave and obeyed the apt command,</p> +<p>Pilot and vassal of the land.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">My</span> Tembinok’ from men like these</p> +<p>Inherited his palaces,</p> +<p>His right to rule, his powers of mind,</p> +<p>His cocoa-islands sea-enshrined.</p> +<p>Stern bearer of the sword and whip,</p> +<p>A master passed in mastership,</p> +<p>He learned, without the spur of need,</p> +<p>To write, to cipher, and to read;</p> +<p>From all that touch on his prone shore</p> +<p>Augments his treasury of lore,</p> +<p>Eager in age as erst in youth</p> +<p>To catch an art, to learn a truth,</p> +<p>To paint on the internal page</p> +<p>A clearer picture of the age.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page249"></a>249</span></p> +<p>His age, you say? But ah, not so!</p> +<p>In his lone isle of long ago,</p> +<p>A royal Lady of Shalott,</p> +<p>Sea-sundered, he beholds it not;</p> +<p>He only hears it far away.</p> +<p>The stress of equatorial day</p> +<p>He suffers; he records the while</p> +<p>The vapid annals of the isle;</p> +<p>Slaves bring him praise of his renown,</p> +<p>Or cackle of the palm-tree town;</p> +<p>The rarer ship and the rare boat</p> +<p>He marks; and only hears remote,</p> +<p>Where thrones and fortunes rise and reel,</p> +<p>The thunder of the turning wheel.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>V</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">For</span> the unexpected tears he shed</p> +<p>At my departing, may his lion head</p> +<p>Not whiten, his revolving years</p> +<p>No fresh occasion minister of tears;</p> +<p>At book or cards, at work or sport,</p> +<p>Him may the breeze across the palace court</p> +<p>For ever fan; and swelling near</p> +<p>For ever the loud song divert his ear.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Schooner</span> <i>Equator</i>, <span class="sc">at Sea</span>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XXXVIII</h5> + + +<h3>THE WOODMAN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">In</span> all the grove, nor stream nor bird</p> +<p>Nor aught beside my blows was heard,</p> +<p>And the woods wore their noonday dress—</p> +<p>The glory of their silentness.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page250"></a>250</span></p> +<p>From the island summit to the seas,</p> +<p>Trees mounted, and trees drooped, and trees</p> +<p>Groped upward in the gaps. The green</p> +<p>Inarboured talus and ravine</p> +<p>By fathoms. By the multitude,</p> +<p>The rugged columns of the wood</p> +<p>And bunches of the branches stood:</p> +<p>Thick as a mob, deep as a sea,</p> +<p>And silent as eternity.</p> + +<p class="s">With lowered axe, with backward head,</p> +<p>Late from this scene my labourer fled,</p> +<p>And with a ravelled tale to tell,</p> +<p>Returned. Some denizen of hell,</p> +<p>Dead man or disinvested god,</p> +<p>Had close behind him peered and trod,</p> +<p>And triumphed when he turned to flee.</p> +<p>How different fell the lines with me!</p> +<p>Whose eye explored the dim arcade</p> +<p>Impatient of the uncoming shade—</p> +<p>Shy elf, or dryad pale and cold,</p> +<p>Or mystic lingerer from of old:</p> +<p>Vainly. The fair and stately things,</p> +<p>Impassive as departed kings,</p> +<p>All still in the wood’s stillness stood,</p> +<p>And dumb. The rooted multitude</p> +<p>Nodded and brooded, bloomed and dreamed,</p> +<p>Unmeaning, undivined. It seemed</p> +<p>No other art, no hope, they knew,</p> +<p>Than clutch the earth and seek the blue.</p> +<p>’Mid vegetable king and priest</p> +<p>And stripling, I (the only beast)</p> +<p>Was at the beast’s work, killing; hewed</p> +<p>The stubborn roots across, bestrewed</p> +<p>The glebe with the dislustred leaves,</p> +<p>And bade the saplings fall in sheaves;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page251"></a>251</span></p> +<p>Bursting across the tangled math</p> +<p>A ruin that I called a path,</p> +<p>A Golgotha that, later on,</p> +<p>When rains had watered, and suns shone,</p> +<p>And seeds enriched the place, should bear</p> +<p>And be called garden. Here and there,</p> +<p>I spied and plucked by the green hair</p> +<p>A foe more resolute to live,</p> +<p>The toothed and killing sensitive.</p> +<p>He, semi-conscious, fled the attack;</p> +<p>He shrank and tucked his branches back;</p> +<p>And straining by his anchor strand,</p> +<p>Captured and scratched the rooting hand.</p> +<p>I saw him crouch, I felt him bite;</p> +<p>And straight my eyes were touched with sight.</p> +<p>I saw the wood for what it was;</p> +<p>The lost and the victorious cause;</p> +<p>The deadly battle pitched in line,</p> +<p>Saw silent weapons cross and shine:</p> +<p>Silent defeat, silent assault,</p> +<p>A battle and a burial vault.</p> + +<p class="s">Thick round me in the teeming mud</p> +<p>Briar and fern strove to the blood.</p> +<p>The hooked liana in his gin</p> +<p>Noosed his reluctant neighbours in:</p> +<p>There the green murderer throve and spread,</p> +<p>Upon his smothering victims fed,</p> +<p>And wantoned on his climbing coil.</p> +<p>Contending roots fought for the soil</p> +<p>Like frightened demons: with despair</p> +<p>Competing branches pushed for air.</p> +<p>Green conquerors from overhead</p> +<p>Bestrode the bodies of their dead;</p> +<p>The Caesars of the silvan field,</p> +<p>Unused to fail, foredoomed to yield:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page252"></a>252</span></p> +<p>For in the groins of branches, lo!</p> +<p>The cancers of the orchid grow.</p> +<p>Silent as in the listed ring</p> +<p>Two chartered wrestlers strain and cling,</p> +<p>Dumb as by yellow Hooghly’s side</p> +<p>The suffocating captives died:</p> +<p>So hushed the woodland warfare goes</p> +<p>Unceasing; and the silent foes</p> +<p>Grapple and smother, strain and clasp</p> +<p>Without a cry, without a gasp.</p> +<p>Here also sound Thy fans, O God,</p> +<p>Here too Thy banners move abroad:</p> +<p>Forest and city, sea and shore,</p> +<p>And the whole earth, Thy threshing-floor!</p> +<p>The drums of war, the drums of peace,</p> +<p>Roll through our cities without cease,</p> +<p>And all the iron halls of life</p> +<p>Ring with the unremitting strife.</p> + +<p class="s">The common lot we scarce perceive.</p> +<p>Crowds perish, we nor mark nor grieve:</p> +<p>The bugle calls—we mourn a few!</p> +<p>What corporal’s guard at Waterloo?</p> +<p>What scanty hundreds more or less</p> +<p>In the man-devouring Wilderness?</p> +<p>What handful bled on Delhi ridge?</p> +<p>—See, rather, London, on thy bridge</p> +<p>The pale battalions trample by,</p> +<p>Resolved to slay, resigned to die.</p> +<p>Count, rather, all the maimed and dead</p> +<p>In the unbrotherly war of bread.</p> +<p>See, rather, under sultrier skies</p> +<p>What vegetable Londons rise,</p> +<p>And teem, and suffer without sound.</p> +<p>Or in your tranquil garden ground,</p> +<p>Contented, in the falling gloom,</p> +<p>Saunter and see the roses bloom.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page253"></a>253</span></p> +<p>That these might live, what thousands died!</p> +<p>All day the cruel hoe was plied;</p> +<p>The ambulance barrow rolled all day;</p> +<p>Your wife, the tender, kind, and gay,</p> +<p>Donned her long gauntlets, caught the spud</p> +<p>And bathed in vegetable blood;</p> +<p>And the long massacre now at end,</p> +<p>See! where the lazy coils ascend,</p> +<p>See, where the bonfire sputters red</p> +<p>At even, for the innocent dead.</p> + +<p class="s">Why prate of peace? when, warriors all,</p> +<p>We clank in harness into hall,</p> +<p>And ever bare upon the board</p> +<p>Lies the necessary sword.</p> +<p>In the green field or quiet street,</p> +<p>Besieged we sleep, beleaguered eat;</p> +<p>Labour by day and wake o’ nights,</p> +<p>In war with rival appetites.</p> +<p>The rose on roses feeds; the lark</p> +<p>On larks. The sedentary clerk</p> +<p>All morning with a diligent pen</p> +<p>Murders the babes of other men;</p> +<p>And like the beasts of wood and park,</p> +<p>Protects his whelps, defends his den.</p> + +<p class="s">Unshamed the narrow aim I hold;</p> +<p>I feed my sheep, patrol my fold;</p> +<p>Breathe war on wolves and rival flocks,</p> +<p>A pious outlaw on the rocks</p> +<p>Of God and morning; and when time</p> +<p>Shall bow, or rivals break me, climb</p> +<p>Where no undubbed civilian dares,</p> +<p>In my war harness, the loud stairs</p> +<p>Of honour; and my conqueror</p> +<p>Hail me a warrior fallen in war.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Vailima.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page254"></a>254</span></p> +<h5>XXXIX</h5> + +<h3>TROPIC RAIN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">As</span> the single pang of the blow, when the metal is mingled well,</p> +<p>Rings and lives and resounds in all the bounds of the bell,</p> +<p>So the thunder above spoke with a single tongue,</p> +<p>So in the heart of the mountain the sound of it rumbled and clung.</p> + +<p class="s">Sudden the thunder was drowned—quenched was the levin light—</p> +<p>And the angel-spirit of rain laughed out loud in the night.</p> +<p>Loud as the maddened river raves in the cloven glen,</p> +<p>Angel of rain! you laughed and leaped on the roofs of men;</p> + +<p class="s">And the sleepers sprang in their beds, and joyed and feared as you fell.</p> +<p>You struck, and my cabin quailed; the roof of it roared like a bell.</p> +<p>You spoke, and at once the mountain shouted and shook with brooks.</p> +<p>You ceased, and the day returned, rosy, with virgin looks.</p> + +<p class="s">And methought that beauty and terror are only one, not two;</p> +<p>And the world has room for love, and death, and thunder, and dew;</p> +<p>And all the sinews of hell slumber in summer air;</p> +<p>And the face of God is a rock, but the face of the rock is fair.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page255"></a>255</span></p> +<p>Beneficent streams of tears flow at the finger of pain;</p> +<p>And out of the cloud that smites, beneficent rivers of rain.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Vailima.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XL</h5> + +<h3>AN END OF TRAVEL</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Let</span> now your soul in this substantial world</p> +<p>Some anchor strike. Be here the body moored;—</p> +<p>This spectacle immutably from now</p> +<p>The picture in your eye; and when time strikes,</p> +<p>And the green scene goes on the instant blind—</p> +<p>The ultimate helpers, where your horse to-day</p> +<p>Conveyed you dreaming, bear your body dead.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Vailima.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XLI</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">We</span> uncommiserate pass into the night</p> +<p>From the loud banquet, and departing leave</p> +<p>A tremor in men’s memories, faint and sweet</p> +<p>And frail as music. Features of our face,</p> +<p>The tones of the voice, the touch of the loved hand,</p> +<p>Perish and vanish, one by one, from earth:</p> +<p>Meanwhile, in the hall of song, the multitude</p> +<p>Applauds the new performer. One, perchance,</p> +<p>One ultimate survivor lingers on,</p> +<p>And smiles, and to his ancient heart recalls</p> +<p>The long forgotten. Ere the morrow die,</p> +<p>He too, returning, through the curtain comes,</p> +<p>And the new age forgets us and goes on.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page256"></a>256</span></p> +<h5>XLII</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Sing</span> me a song of a lad that is gone,</p> + <p class="i1">Say, could that lad be I?</p> +<p>Merry of soul he sailed on a day</p> + <p class="i1">Over the sea to Skye.</p> + +<p class="s">Mull was astern, Rum on the port,</p> + <p class="i1">Eigg on the starboard bow;</p> +<p>Glory of youth glowed in his soul:</p> + <p class="i1">Where is that glory now?</p> + +<p class="s">Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,</p> + <p class="i1">Say, could that lad be I?</p> +<p>Merry of soul he sailed on a day</p> + <p class="i1">Over the sea to Skye.</p> + +<p class="s">Give me again all that was there,</p> + <p class="i1">Give me the sun that shone!</p> +<p>Give me the eyes, give me the soul,</p> + <p class="i1">Give me the lad that’s gone!</p> + +<p class="s">Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,</p> + <p class="i1">Say, could that lad be I?</p> +<p>Merry of soul he sailed on a day</p> + <p class="i1">Over the sea to Skye.</p> + +<p class="s">Billow and breeze, islands and seas,</p> + <p class="i1">Mountains of rain and sun,</p> +<p>All that was good, all that was fair,</p> + <p class="i1">All that was me is gone.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page257"></a>257</span></p> +<h5>XLIII</h5> + +<h3>TO S.R. CROCKETT</h3> + +<h6>(ON RECEIVING A DEDICATION)</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Blows</span> the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying,</p> + <p class="i1">Blows the wind on the moors to-day and now,</p> +<p>Where about the graves of the martyrs the whaups are crying,</p> + <p class="i1">My heart remembers how!</p> + +<p class="s">Grey recumbent tombs of the dead in desert places,</p> + <p class="i1">Standing-stones on the vacant wine-red moor,</p> +<p>Hills of sheep, and the homes of the silent vanished races,</p> + <p class="i1">And winds, austere and pure:</p> + +<p class="s">Be it granted me to behold you again in dying,</p> + <p class="i1">Hills of home! and to hear again the call;</p> +<p>Hear about the graves of the martyrs the peewees crying,</p> + <p class="i1">And hear no more at all.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Vailima.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XLIV</h5> + +<h3>EVENSONG</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> embers of the day are red</p> +<p>Beyond the murky hill.</p> +<p>The kitchen smokes: the bed</p> +<p>In the darkling house is spread:</p> +<p>The great sky darkens overhead,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page258"></a>258</span></p> +<p>And the great woods are shrill.</p> +<p>So far have I been led,</p> +<p>Lord, by Thy will:</p> +<p>So far I have followed, Lord, and wondered still.</p> + +<p class="s">The breeze from the embalmèd land</p> +<p>Blows sudden toward the shore,</p> +<p>And claps my cottage door.</p> +<p>I hear the signal, Lord—I understand.</p> +<p>The night at Thy command</p> +<p>Comes. I will eat and sleep and will not question more.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Vailima.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page259"></a>259</span></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>ADDITIONAL POEMS</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page260"></a>260</span></p> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page261"></a>261</span></p> +<h2>ADDITIONAL POEMS</h2> + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h3>A FAMILIAR EPISTLE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Blame</span> me not that this epistle</p> + <p class="i2">Is the first you have from me;</p> + <p class="i5">Idleness hath held me fettered;</p> + <p class="i5">But at last the times are bettered,</p> +<p>And once more I wet my whistle</p> + <p class="i2">Here in France beside the sea.</p> + +<p class="s">All the green and idle weather,</p> + <p class="i2">I have had in sun and shower</p> + <p class="i5">Such an easy, warm subsistence,</p> + <p class="i5">Such an indolent existence,</p> +<p>I should find it hard to sever</p> + <p class="i2">Day from day and hour from hour.</p> + +<p class="s">Many a tract-provided ranter</p> + <p class="i2">May upbraid me, dark and sour,</p> + <p class="i5">Many a bland Utilitarian,</p> + <p class="i5">Or excited Millenarian,</p> +<p>—“<i>Pereunt et imputantur</i>”—</p> + <p class="i2">You must speak to every hour.</p> + +<p class="s">But (the very term’s deception)</p> + <p class="i2">You at least, my Friend, will see</p> + <p class="i5">That in sunny grassy meadows,</p> + <p class="i5">Trailed across by moving shadows,</p> +<p>To be actively receptive</p> + <p class="i2">Is as much as man can be.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page262"></a>262</span></p> + +<p class="s">He that all the winter grapples</p> + <p class="i2">Difficulties—thrust and ward—</p> + <p class="i5">Needs to cheer him thro’ his duty</p> + <p class="i5">Memories of sun and beauty,</p> +<p>Orchards with the russet apples</p> + <p class="i2">Lying scattered on the sward.</p> + +<p class="s">Many such I keep in prison,</p> + <p class="i2">Keep them here at heart unseen,</p> + <p class="i5">Till my muse again rehearses</p> + <p class="i5">Long years hence, and in my verses</p> +<p>You shall meet them re-arisen,</p> + <p class="i2">Ever comely, ever green.</p> + +<p class="s">You know how they never perish,</p> + <p class="i2">How, in time of later art,</p> + <p class="i5">Memories consecrate and sweeten</p> + <p class="i5">Those defaced and tempest-beaten</p> +<p>Flowers of former years we cherish</p> + <p class="i2">Half a life, against our heart.</p> + +<p class="s">Most, those love-fruits withered greenly,</p> + <p class="i2">Those frail, sickly amourettes,—</p> + <p class="i5">How they brighten with the distance,</p> + <p class="i5">Take new strength and new existence,</p> +<p>Till we see them sitting queenly</p> + <p class="i2">Crowned and courted by regrets!</p> + +<p class="s">All that loveliest and best is,</p> + <p class="i2">Aureole-fashion round their head,</p> + <p class="i5">They that looked in life but plainly,</p> + <p class="i5">How they stir our spirits vainly</p> +<p>When they come to us, Alcestis—</p> + <p class="i2">Like returning from the dead!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page263"></a>263</span></p> + +<p class="s">Not the old love but another,</p> + <p class="i2">Bright she comes at memory’s call,</p> + <p class="i5">Our forgotten vows reviving</p> + <p class="i5">To a newer, livelier living,</p> +<p>As the dead child to the mother</p> + <p class="i2">Seems the fairest child of all.</p> + +<p class="s">Thus our Goethe, sacred master,</p> + <p class="i2">Travelling backward thro’ his youth,</p> + <p class="i5">Surely wandered wrong in trying</p> + <p class="i5">To renew the old, undying</p> +<p>Loves that cling in memory faster</p> + <p class="i2">Than they ever lived in truth.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Boulogne-sur-Mer</span>, <i>September 1872</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + +<h3>RONDELS</h3> + +<h5>1</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Far</span> have you come, my lady, from the town,</p> +<p>And far from all your sorrows, if you please,</p> +<p>To smell the good sea-winds and hear the seas,</p> +<p>And in green meadows lay your body down.</p> + +<p class="s">To find your pale face grow from pale to brown,</p> +<p>Your sad eyes growing brighter by degrees;</p> +<p>Far have you come, my lady, from the town,</p> +<p>And far from all your sorrows, if you please.</p> + +<p class="s">Here in this seaboard land of old renown,</p> +<p>In meadow grass go wading to the knees;</p> +<p>Bathe your whole soul a while in simple ease;</p> +<p>There is no sorrow but the sea can drown;</p> +<p>Far have you come, my lady, from the town.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page264"></a>264</span></p> +<h5>2</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + + <p class="i1"><i>Nous n’irons plus au bois</i></p> +<p>We’ll walk the woods no more,</p> +<p>But stay beside the fire,</p> +<p>To weep for old desire</p> +<p>And things that are no more.</p> + +<p class="s i2">The woods are spoiled and hoar,</p> +<p>The ways are full of mire;</p> +<p>We’ll walk the woods no more,</p> +<p>But stay beside the fire.</p> + <p class="i2">We loved, in days of yore,</p> +<p>Love, laughter, and the lyre.</p> +<p>Ah God, but death is dire,</p> +<p>And death is at the door—</p> +<p>We’ll walk the woods no more.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Château Renard</span>, <i>August 1875</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<h5>3</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p>Since I am sworn to live my life</p> +<p>And not to keep an easy heart,</p> +<p>Some men may sit and drink apart,</p> +<p>I bear a banner in the strife.</p> + +<p class="s">Some can take quiet thought to wife,</p> +<p>I am all day at <i>tierce</i> and <i>carte</i>,</p> +<p>Since I am sworn to live my life</p> +<p>And not to keep an easy heart.</p> + +<p class="s">I follow gaily to the fife,</p> +<p>Leave Wisdom bowed above a chart,</p> +<p>And Prudence brawing in the mart,</p> +<p>And dare Misfortune to the knife,</p> +<p>Since I am sworn to live my life.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="padding-top: 0.5em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page265"></a>265</span></p> +<h5>4</h5> + +<h3>OF HIS PITIABLE TRANSFORMATION</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p>I who was young so long,</p> + <p class="i2">Young and alert and gay,</p> + <p class="i2">Now that my hair is grey,</p> +<p>Begin to change my song.</p> + +<p class="s">Now I know right from wrong,</p> + <p class="i1">Now I know <i>pay</i> and <i>pray</i>,</p> +<p>I who was young so long,</p> + <p class="i1">Young and alert and gay.</p> + +<p class="s">Now I follow the throng,</p> + <p class="i2">Walk in the beaten way,</p> + <p class="i2">Hear what the elders say,</p> +<p>And own that I was wrong—</p> +<p>I who was young so long.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2">1876.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + +<h3>EPISTLE TO CHARLES BAXTER</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Noo</span> lyart leaves blaw ower the green,</p> +<p>Red are the bonny woods o’ Dean,</p> +<p>An’ here we’re back in Embro, freen’,</p> + <p class="i2">To pass the winter.</p> +<p>Whilk noo, wi’ frosts afore, draws in,</p> + <p class="i2">An’ snaws ahint her.</p> + +<p class="s">I’ve seen ’s hae days to fricht us a’,</p> +<p>The Pentlands poothered weel wi’ snaw,</p> +<p>The ways half-smoored wi’ liquid thaw,</p> + <p class="i2">An’ half-congealin’,</p> +<p>The snell an’ scowtherin’ norther blaw</p> + <p class="i2">Frae blae Brunteelan’.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page266"></a>266</span></p> + +<p class="s">I’ve seen ’s been unco sweir to sally,</p> +<p>And at the door-cheeks daff an’ dally,</p> +<p>Seen ’s daidle thus an’ shilly-shally</p> + <p class="i2">For near a minute—</p> +<p>Sae cauld the wind blew up the valley,</p> + <p class="i2">The deil was in it!—</p> + +<p class="s">Syne spread the silk an’ tak the gate,</p> +<p>In blast an’ blaudin’, rain, deil hae ’t!</p> +<p>The hale toon glintin’, stane an’ slate,</p> + <p class="i2">Wi’ cauld an’ weet,</p> +<p>An’ to the Court, gin we ’se be late,</p> + <p class="i2">Bicker oor feet.</p> + +<p class="s">And at the Court, tae, aft I saw</p> +<p>Whaur Advocates by twa an’ twa</p> +<p>Gang gesterin’ end to end the ha’</p> + <p class="i2">In weeg an’ goon,</p> +<p>To crack o’ what ye wull but Law</p> + <p class="i2">The hale forenoon.</p> + +<p class="s">That muckle ha’, maist like a kirk,</p> +<p>I’ve kent at braid mid-day sae mirk</p> +<p>Ye’d seen white weegs an’ faces lurk</p> + <p class="i2">Like ghaists frae Hell,</p> +<p>But whether Christian ghaists or Turk,</p> + <p class="i2">Deil ane could tell.</p> + +<p class="s">The three fires lunted in the gloom,</p> +<p>The wind blew like the blast o’ doom,</p> +<p>The rain upo’ the roof abune</p> + <p class="i2">Played Peter Dick—</p> +<p>Ye wad nae’d licht enough i’ the room</p> + <p class="i2">Your teeth to pick!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page267"></a>267</span></p> + +<p class="s">But, freend, ye ken how me an’ you,</p> +<p>The ling-lang lanely winter through,</p> +<p>Keep’d a guid speerit up, an’ true</p> + <p class="i2">To lore Horatian,</p> +<p>We aye the ither bottle drew</p> + <p class="i2">To inclination.</p> + +<p class="s">Sae let us in the comin’ days</p> +<p>Stand sicker on our auncient ways—</p> +<p>The strauchtest road in a’ the maze</p> + <p class="i2">Since Eve ate apples;</p> +<p>An’ let the winter weet our cla’es—</p> + <p class="i2">We’ll weet oor thrapples.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Edinburgh</span>, <i>October 1875</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<h3>THE SUSQUEHANNAH AND THE</h3> +<h3>DELAWARE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + + <p class="i2"><span class="sc">Of</span> where or how, I nothing know;</p> + <p class="i4">And why, I do not care;</p> + <p class="i4">Enough if, even so,</p> + <p class="i2">My travelling eyes, my travelling mind can go</p> +<p>By flood and field and hill, by wood and meadow fair,</p> +<p>Beside the Susquehannah and along the Delaware.</p> + +<p class="s i2">I think, I hope, I dream no more</p> + <p class="i4">The dreams of otherwhere,</p> + <p class="i4">The cherished thoughts of yore;</p> + <p class="i2">I have been changed from what I was before;</p> +<p>And drunk too deep perchance the lotus of the air,</p> +<p>Beside the Susquehannah and along the Delaware.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page268"></a>268</span></p> + +<p class="s i2">Unweary, God me yet shall bring</p> + <p class="i4">To lands of brighter air,</p> + <p class="i4">Where I, now half a king,</p> + <p class="i2">Shall with enfranchised spirit loudlier sing,</p> +<p>And wear a bolder front than that which now I wear</p> +<p>Beside the Susquehannah and along the Delaware.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><i>August 1879</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>V</h5> + +<h3>EPISTLE TO ALBERT DEW-SMITH</h3> + + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Figure</span> me to yourself, I pray—</p> + <p class="i1">A man of my peculiar cut—</p> +<p>Apart from dancing and deray,<a name="FnAnchor_1h" href="#Footnote_1h"><span class="sp">1</span></a></p> + <p class="i1">Into an Alpine valley shut;</p> + +<p class="s">Shut in a kind of damned Hotel,</p> + <p class="i1">Discountenanced by God and man;</p> +<p>The food?—Sir, you would do as well</p> + <p class="i1">To cram your belly full of bran.</p> + +<p class="s">The company? Alas, the day</p> + <p class="i1">That I should dwell with such a crew,</p> +<p>With devil anything to say,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor any one to say it to!</p> + +<p class="s">The place? Although they call it Platz,</p> + <p class="i1">I will be bold and state my view;</p> +<p>It’s not a place at all—and that’s</p> + <p class="i1">The bottom verity, my Dew.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page269"></a>269</span></p> + +<p class="s">There are, as I will not deny,</p> + <p class="i1">Innumerable inns; a road;</p> +<p>Several Alps indifferent high;</p> + <p class="i1">The snow’s inviolable abode;</p> + +<p class="s">Eleven English parsons, all</p> + <p class="i1">Entirely inoffensive; four</p> +<p>True human beings—what I call</p> + <p class="i1">Human—the deuce a cipher more;</p> + +<p class="s">A climate of surprising worth;</p> + <p class="i1">Innumerable dogs that bark;</p> +<p>Some air, some weather, and some earth;</p> + <p class="i1">A native race—God save the mark!—</p> + +<p class="s">A race that works, yet cannot work,</p> + <p class="i1">Yodels, but cannot yodel right,</p> +<p>Such as, unhelp’d, with rusty dirk,</p> + <p class="i1">I vow that I could wholly smite.</p> + +<p class="s">A river that from morn to night</p> + <p class="i1">Down all the valley plays the fool;</p> +<p>Not once she pauses in her flight,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor knows the comfort of a pool;</p> + +<p class="s">But still keeps up, by straight or bend,</p> + <p class="i1">The selfsame pace she hath begun—</p> +<p>Still hurry, hurry, to the end—</p> + <p class="i1">Good God, is that the way to run?</p> + +<p class="s">If I a river were, I hope</p> + <p class="i1">That I should better realise</p> +<p>The opportunities and scope</p> + <p class="i1">Of that romantic enterprise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page270"></a>270</span></p> + +<p class="s">I should not ape the merely strange,</p> + <p class="i1">But aim besides at the divine;</p> +<p>And continuity and change</p> + <p class="i1">I still should labour to combine.</p> + +<p class="s">Here should I gallop down the race,</p> + <p class="i1">Here charge the sterling<a name="FnAnchor_2h" href="#Footnote_2h"><span class="sp">2</span></a> like a bull;</p> +<p>There, as a man might wipe his face,</p> + <p class="i1">Lie, pleased and panting, in a pool.</p> + +<p class="s">But what, my Dew, in idle mood,</p> + <p class="i1">What prate I, minding not my debt?</p> +<p>What do I talk of bad or good?</p> + <p class="i1">The best is still a cigarette.</p> + +<p class="s">Me whether evil fate assault,</p> + <p class="i1">Or smiling providences crown—</p> +<p>Whether on high the eternal vault</p> + <p class="i1">Be blue, or crash with thunder down—</p> + +<p class="s">I judge the best, whate’er befall,</p> + <p class="i1">Is still to sit on one’s behind,</p> +<p>And, having duly moistened all,</p> + <p class="i1">Smoke with an unperturbed mind.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Davos</span>, <i>November 1880</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<hr class="foot" /> +<div class="note"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1h" href="#FnAnchor_1h"><span class="fn">1</span></a> “The whole front of the house was lighted, and there were pipes +and fiddles, and as much dancing and deray within as used to be +in Sir Robert’s house at Pace and Yule, and such high seasons.”—See +“Wandering Willie’s Tale” in “Redgauntlet,” borrowed +perhaps from “Christ’s Kirk of the Green.”</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2h" href="#FnAnchor_2h"><span class="fn">2</span></a> In architecture, a series of piles to defend the pier of a bridge.</p> +</div> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<h3>ALCAICS TO HORATIO F. BROWN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Brave</span> lads in olden musical centuries,</p> +<p>Sang, night by night, adorable choruses,</p> + <p class="i2">Sat late by alehouse doors in April</p> + <p class="i2">Chaunting in joy as the moon was rising:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page271"></a>271</span></p> + +<p class="s">Moon-seen and merry, under the trellises,</p> +<p>Flush-faced they played with old polysyllables;</p> + <p class="i2">Spring scents inspired, old wine diluted;</p> + <p class="i2">Love and Apollo were there to chorus.</p> + +<p class="s">Now these, the songs, remain to eternity,</p> +<p>Those, only those, the bountiful choristers</p> + <p class="i2">Gone—those are gone, those unremembered</p> + <p class="i2">Sleep and are silent in earth for ever.</p> + +<p class="s">So man himself appears and evanishes,</p> +<p>So smiles and goes; as wanderers halting at</p> + <p class="i2">Some green-embowered house, play their music,</p> + <p class="i2">Play and are gone on the windy highway;</p> + +<p class="s">Yet dwells the strain enshrined in the memory</p> +<p>Long after they departed eternally,</p> + <p class="i2">Forth-faring tow’rd far mountain summits,</p> + <p class="i2">Cities of men on the sounding Ocean.</p> + +<p class="s">Youth sang the song in years immemorial;</p> +<p>Brave chanticleer, he sang and was beautiful;</p> + <p class="i2">Bird-haunted, green tree-tops in springtime</p> + <p class="i2">Heard and were pleased by the voice of singing;</p> + +<p class="s">Youth goes, and leaves behind him a prodigy—</p> +<p>Songs sent by thee afar from Venetian</p> + <p class="i2">Sea-grey lagunes, sea-paven highways,</p> + <p class="i2">Dear to me here in my Alpine exile.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Davos</span>, <i>Spring 1881</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page272"></a>272</span></p> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<h3>A LYTLE JAPE OF TUSHERIE</h3> + +<p class="ct"><i>By A. Tusher</i></p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> pleasant river gushes</p> + <p class="i1">Among the meadows green;</p> +<p>At home the author tushes;</p> + <p class="i1">For him it flows unseen.</p> + +<p class="s">The Birds among the Bushes</p> + <p class="i1">May wanton on the spray;</p> +<p>But vain for him who tushes</p> + <p class="i1">The brightness of the day!</p> + +<p class="s">The frog among the rushes</p> + <p class="i1">Sits singing in the blue.</p> +<p>By ’r la’kin! but these tushes</p> + <p class="i1">Are wearisome to do!</p> + +<p class="s">The task entirely crushes</p> + <p class="i1">The spirit of the bard:</p> +<p>God pity him who tushes—</p> + <p class="i1">His task is very hard.</p> + +<p class="s">The filthy gutter slushes,</p> + <p class="i1">The clouds are full of rain,</p> +<p>But doomed is he who tushes</p> + <p class="i1">To tush and tush again.</p> + +<p class="s">At morn with his hair-brushes,</p> + <p class="i1">Still “tush” he says and weeps;</p> +<p>At night again he tushes,</p> + <p class="i1">And tushes till he sleeps.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page273"></a>273</span></p> + +<p class="s">And when at length he pushes</p> + <p class="i1">Beyond the river dark—</p> +<p>’Las, to the man who tushes,</p> + <p class="i1">“Tush” shall be God’s remark!</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Hyères</span>, <i>May 1883</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<h3>TO VIRGIL AND DORA WILLIAMS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Here</span>, from the forelands of the tideless sea,</p> +<p>Behold and take my offering unadorned.</p> +<p>In the Pacific air it sprang; it grew</p> +<p>Among the silence of the Alpine air;</p> +<p>In Scottish heather blossomed; and at last</p> +<p>By that unshapen sapphire, in whose face</p> +<p>Spain, Italy, France, Algiers, and Tunis view</p> +<p>Their introverted mountains, came to fruit.</p> +<p>Back now, my Booklet! on the diving ship,</p> +<p>And posting on the rails, to home return,—</p> +<p>Home, and the friends whose honouring name you bear.</p> + +<p class="scs s mi2">Hyères, 1883.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<h3>BURLESQUE SONNET</h3> + +<h5>TO ÆNEAS WILLIAM MACKINTOSH</h5> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Thee</span>, Mackintosh, artificer of light,</p> + <p class="i2">Thee, the lone smoker hails! the student, thee;</p> + <p class="i2">Thee, oft upon the ungovernable sea,</p> +<p>The seaman, conscious of approaching night;</p> +<p>Thou, with industrious fingers, hast outright</p> + <p class="i2">Mastered that art, of other arts the key,</p> + <p class="i2">That bids thick night before the morning flee,</p> +<p>And lingering day retains for mortal sight.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page274"></a>274</span></p> +<p>O Promethean workman, thee I hail,</p> + <p class="i2">Thee hallowed, thee unparalleled, thee bold</p> + <p class="i2">To affront the reign of sleep and darkness old,</p> + <p class="i4">Thee William, thee Æneas, thee I sing;</p> +<p>Thee by the glimmering taper clear and pale,</p> + <p class="i2">Of light, and light’s purveyance, hail, the king.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>X</h5> + +<h3>THE FINE PACIFIC ISLANDS</h3> + +<h6>(HEARD IN A PUBLIC-HOUSE AT ROTHERHITHE)</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">The</span> jolly English Yellowboy</p> + <p class="i1">Is a ’ansome coin when new,</p> +<p>The Yankee Double-eagle</p> + <p class="i1">Is large enough for two.</p> +<p>O, these may do for seaport towns,</p> + <p class="i1">For cities these may do;</p> +<p>But the dibbs that takes the Hislands</p> + <p class="i1">Are the dollars of Peru:</p> + <p class="i4">O, the fine Pacific Hislands,</p> + <p class="i4">O, the dollars of Peru!</p> + +<p class="s">It’s there we buy the cocoanuts</p> + <p class="i1">Mast ’eaded in the blue;</p> +<p>It’s there we trap the lasses</p> + <p class="i1">All waiting for the crew;</p> +<p>It’s there we buy the trader’s rum</p> + <p class="i1">What bores a seaman through....</p> +<p>In the fine Pacific Hislands</p> + <p class="i1">With the dollars of Peru:</p> + <p class="i4">In the fine Pacific Hislands</p> + <p class="i4">With the dollars of Peru!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page275"></a>275</span></p> + +<p class="s">Now, messmates, when my watch is up,</p> + <p class="i1">And I am quite broached to,</p> +<p>I’ll give a tip to ’Evving</p> + <p class="i1">Of the ’ansome thing to do:</p> +<p>Let ’em just refit this sailor-man</p> + <p class="i1">And launch him off anew</p> +<p>To cruise among the Hislands</p> + <p class="i1">With the dollars of Peru:</p> + <p class="i4">In the fine Pacific Hislands</p> + <p class="i4">With the dollars of Peru!</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Tahiti</span>, <i>August 1888</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XI</h5> + +<h3>AULD REEKIE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">When</span> chitterin’ cauld the day sall daw,</p> +<p>Loud may your bonny bugles blaw</p> + <p class="i2">And loud your drums may beat.</p> +<p>Hie owre the land at evenfa’</p> +<p>Your lamps may glitter raw by raw,</p> + <p class="i2">Along the gowsty street.</p> + +<p class="s">I gang nae mair where ance I gaed,</p> +<p>By Brunston, Fairmileheid, or Braid;</p> + <p class="i2">But far frae Kirk and Tron.</p> +<p>O still ayont the muckle sea,</p> +<p>Still are ye dear, and dear to me,</p> + <p class="i2">Auld Reekie, still and on!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page276"></a>276</span></p> +<h5>XII</h5> + +<h3>THE LESSON OF THE MASTER</h3> + +<h6>TO HENRY JAMES</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Adela</span>, Adela, Adela Chart,</p> +<p>What have you done to my elderly heart?</p> +<p>Of all the ladies of paper and ink</p> +<p>I count you the paragon, call you the pink.</p> +<p>The word of your brother depicts you in part:</p> +<p>“You raving maniac!” Adela Chart;</p> +<p>But in all the asylums that cumber the ground,</p> +<p>So delightful a maniac was ne’er to be found.</p> + +<p class="s">I pore on you, dote on you, clasp you to heart,</p> +<p>I laud, love, and laugh at you, Adela Chart,</p> +<p>And thank my dear maker the while I admire</p> +<p>That I can be neither your husband nor sire.</p> +<p>Your husband’s, your sire’s, were a difficult part;</p> +<p>You’re a byway to suicide, Adela Chart;</p> +<p>But to read of, depicted by exquisite James,</p> +<p>O, sure you’re the flower and quintessence of dames.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi1"><span class="sc">Vailima</span>, <i>October 1891</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIII</h5> + +<h3>THE CONSECRATION OF BRAILLE</h3> + +<h6>TO MRS. A. BAKER</h6> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">I was</span> a barren tree before,</p> + <p class="i1">I blew a quenchèd coal,</p> +<p>I could not, on their midnight shore,</p> + <p class="i1">The lonely blind console.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page277"></a>277</span></p> + +<p class="s">A moment, lend your hand, I bring</p> + <p class="i1">My sheaf for you to bind,</p> +<p>And you can teach my words to sing</p> + <p class="i1">In the darkness of the blind.</p> + +<p class="f80 s mi2"><span class="sc">Vailima</span>, <i>December 1893</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<h5>XIV</h5> + +<h3>SONG</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p><span class="sc">Light</span> foot and tight foot,</p> + <p class="i1">And green grass spread,</p> +<p>Early in the morning,</p> + <p class="i1">But hope is on ahead.</p> + +<p class="s">Brief day and bright day,</p> + <p class="i1">And sunset red,</p> +<p>Early in the evening,</p> + <p class="i1">The stars are overhead.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page278"></a>278</span></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p class="ct f80">PRINTED BY<br /> +CASSELL & CO., LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE<br /> +LONDON, E.C.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<div style="padding-top: 3em; "> </div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - +Swanston Edition Vol. 14 (of 25), by Robert Louis Stevenson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKS OF R.L. 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