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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 1914 and Other Poems, by Rupert Brooke
+
+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: 1914 and Other Poems
+
+Author: Rupert Brooke
+
+Release Date: October 29, 2010 [EBook #33902]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1914 AND OTHER POEMS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ 1914
+ AND OTHER POEMS
+ BY RUPERT BROOKE
+
+ LONDON
+
+ SIDGWICK & JACKSON LIMITED
+
+ 3 ADAM STREET ADELPHI W.C.
+ 1915
+
+
+
+
+ _Copyright 1915 by Sidgwick & Jackson Ltd.
+ All rights reserved_
+
+ PRINTED AT THE COMPLETE PRESS
+ WEST NORWOOD
+ LONDON
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Rupert Brooke 1913]
+
+
+
+
+ _By the same Author_
+ POEMS
+ (_Sidgwick & Jackson Ltd._)
+    _First edition, 1911
+    Reprinted 1913
+     May 1915 (twice)_
+
+
+
+
+RUPERT BROOKE
+
+ Born at Rugby, August 3, 1887
+ Fellow of King's, 1913
+ Sub-Lieutenant, R.N.V.R., September 1914
+ Antwerp Expedition, October 1914
+ Sailed with British Mediterranean
+   Expeditionary Force, February 28, 1915
+ Died in the Ægean, April 23, 1915
+
+
+
+
+These poems have appeared in _New Numbers_, the old _Poetry Review_,
+_Poetry and Drama_, _Rhythm_, _The Blue Review_, _The New Statesman_,
+_The Pall Mall Magazine_, and _Basileon_. Acknowledgements are due to
+the Editors who have allowed them to be reprinted.
+
+The Author had thought of publishing a volume of poems this spring,
+but he did not prepare the present book for publication.
+
+ _May 1915_                                      E. M.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ 1914
+
+                                                PAGE
+
+   I. PEACE                                      11
+  II. SAFETY                                     12
+ III. THE DEAD                                   13
+  IV. THE DEAD                                   14
+   V. THE SOLDIER                                15
+ THE TREASURE                                    16
+
+
+ THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+ TIARE TAHITI                                    19
+ RETROSPECT                                      22
+ THE GREAT LOVER                                 24
+ HEAVEN                                          27
+ DOUBTS                                          29
+ THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN                         30
+ HE WONDERS WHETHER TO PRAISE OR TO BLAME HER    31
+ A MEMORY                                        32
+ ONE DAY                                         33
+ WAIKIKI                                         34
+ HAUNTINGS                                       35
+ SONNET (_Suggested by some of the Proceedings
+   of the Society for Psychical Research_)       36
+ CLOUDS                                          37
+ MUTABILITY                                      38
+
+
+ OTHER POEMS
+
+ THE BUSY HEART                                  41
+ LOVE                                            42
+ UNFORTUNATE                                     43
+ THE CHILTERNS                                   44
+ HOME                                            46
+ THE NIGHT JOURNEY                               47
+ SONG                                            49
+ BEAUTY AND BEAUTY                               50
+ THE WAY THAT LOVERS USE                         51
+ MARY AND GABRIEL                                52
+ THE FUNERAL OF YOUTH                            55
+
+
+ GRANTCHESTER
+
+ THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER                  59
+
+
+
+
+1914
+
+
+
+
+I. PEACE
+
+
+ Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour,
+   And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping,
+ With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,
+   To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,
+ Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,
+   Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,
+ And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,
+   And all the little emptiness of love!
+
+ Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,
+   Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending,
+     Naught broken save this body, lost but breath;
+ Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there
+   But only agony, and that has ending;
+     And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
+
+
+
+
+II. SAFETY
+
+
+ Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
+   He who has found our hid security,
+ Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
+   And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'
+ We have found safety with all things undying,
+   The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth,
+ The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying,
+   And sleep, and freedom, and the autumnal earth.
+ We have built a house that is not for Time's throwing.
+   We have gained a peace unshaken by pain for ever.
+ War knows no power. Safe shall be my going,
+   Secretly armed against all death's endeavour;
+ Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;
+ And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.
+
+
+
+
+III. THE DEAD
+
+
+ Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
+   There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
+   But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.
+ These laid the world away; poured out the red
+ Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be
+   Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene,
+   That men call age; and those who would have been,
+ Their sons, they gave, their immortality.
+
+ Blow, bugles, blow! They brought us, for our dearth,
+   Holiness, lacked so long, and Love, and Pain.
+ Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,
+   And paid his subjects with a royal wage;
+ And Nobleness walks in our ways again;
+   And we have come into our heritage.
+
+
+
+
+IV. THE DEAD
+
+
+ These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
+   Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
+ The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
+   And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
+ These had seen movement, and heard music; known
+   Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
+ Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
+   Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.
+
+ There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
+ And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
+   Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
+ And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
+   Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
+ A width, a shining peace, under the night.
+
+
+
+
+V. THE SOLDIER
+
+
+ If I should die, think only this of me:
+   That there's some corner of a foreign field
+ That is for ever England. There shall be
+   In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
+ A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
+   Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
+ A body of England's, breathing English air,
+   Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
+
+ And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
+   A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
+     Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
+ Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
+   And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
+     In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
+
+
+
+
+THE TREASURE
+
+
+ When colour goes home into the eyes,
+   And lights that shine are shut again
+ With dancing girls and sweet birds' cries
+   Behind the gateways of the brain;
+ And that no-place which gave them birth, shall close
+ The rainbow and the rose:--
+
+ Still may Time hold some golden space
+   Where I'll unpack that scented store
+ Of song and flower and sky and face,
+   And count, and touch, and turn them o'er,
+ Musing upon them; as a mother, who
+ Has watched her children all the rich day through
+ Sits, quiet-handed, in the fading light,
+ When children sleep, ere night.
+
+
+
+
+THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+
+
+
+TIARE TAHITI
+
+
+ Mamua, when our laughter ends,
+ And hearts and bodies, brown as white,
+ Are dust about the doors of friends,
+ Or scent ablowing down the night,
+ Then, oh! then, the wise agree,
+ Comes our immortality.
+ Mamua, there waits a land
+ Hard for us to understand.
+ Out of time, beyond the sun,
+ All are one in Paradise,
+ You and Pupure are one,
+ And Taü, and the ungainly wise.
+ There the Eternals are, and there
+ The Good, the Lovely, and the True,
+ And Types, whose earthly copies were
+ The foolish broken things we knew;
+ There is the Face, whose ghosts we are;
+ The real, the never-setting Star;
+ And the Flower, of which we love
+ Faint and fading shadows here;
+ Never a tear, but only Grief;
+ Dance, but not the limbs that move;
+ Songs in Song shall disappear;
+ Instead of lovers, Love shall be;
+ For hearts, Immutability;
+ And there, on the Ideal Reef,
+ Thunders the Everlasting Sea!
+
+   And my laughter, and my pain,
+ Shall home to the Eternal Brain.
+ And all lovely things, they say,
+ Meet in Loveliness again;
+ Miri's laugh, Teïpo's feet,
+ And the hands of Matua,
+ Stars and sunlight there shall meet,
+ Coral's hues and rainbows there,
+ And Teüra's braided hair;
+ And with the starred _tiare's_ white,
+ And white birds in the dark ravine,
+ And _flamboyants_ ablaze at night,
+ And jewels, and evening's after-green,
+ And dawns of pearl and gold and red,
+ Mamua, your lovelier head!
+ And there'll no more be one who dreams
+ Under the ferns, of crumbling stuff,
+ Eyes of illusion, mouth that seems,
+ All time-entangled human love.
+ And you'll no longer swing and sway
+ Divinely down the scented shade,
+ Where feet to Ambulation fade,
+ And moons are lost in endless Day.
+ How shall we wind these wreaths of ours,
+ Where there are neither heads nor flowers?
+ Oh, Heaven's Heaven!--but we'll be missing
+ The palms, and sunlight, and the south;
+ And there's an end, I think, of kissing,
+ When our mouths are one with Mouth....
+
+   _Taü here_, Mamua,
+ Crown the hair, and come away!
+ Hear the calling of the moon,
+ And the whispering scents that stray
+ About the idle warm lagoon.
+ Hasten, hand in human hand,
+ Down the dark, the flowered way,
+ Along the whiteness of the sand,
+ And in the water's soft caress,
+ Wash the mind of foolishness,
+ Mamua, until the day.
+ Spend the glittering moonlight there
+ Pursuing down the soundless deep
+ Limbs that gleam and shadowy hair,
+ Or floating lazy, half-asleep.
+ Dive and double and follow after,
+ Snare in flowers, and kiss, and call,
+ With lips that fade, and human laughter
+ And faces individual,
+ Well this side of Paradise!...
+ There's little comfort in the wise.
+
+ PAPEETE, _February_ 1914
+
+
+
+
+RETROSPECT
+
+
+ In your arms was still delight,
+ Quiet as a street at night;
+ And thoughts of you, I do remember,
+ Were green leaves in a darkened chamber,
+ Were dark clouds in a moonless sky.
+ Love, in you, went passing by,
+ Penetrative, remote, and rare,
+ Like a bird in the wide air,
+ And, as the bird, it left no trace
+ In the heaven of your face.
+ In your stupidity I found
+ The sweet hush after a sweet sound.
+ All about you was the light
+ That dims the greying end of night;
+ Desire was the unrisen sun,
+ Joy the day not yet begun,
+ With tree whispering to tree,
+ Without wind, quietly.
+ Wisdom slept within your hair,
+ And Long-Suffering was there,
+ And, in the flowing of your dress,
+ Undiscerning Tenderness.
+ And when you thought, it seemed to me,
+ Infinitely, and like a sea,
+ About the slight world you had known
+ Your vast unconsciousness was thrown....
+
+   O haven without wave or tide!
+ Silence, in which all songs have died!
+ Holy book, where hearts are still!
+ And home at length under the hill!
+ O mother quiet, breasts of peace,
+ Where love itself would faint and cease!
+ O infinite deep I never knew,
+ I would come back, come back to you,
+ Find you, as a pool unstirred,
+ Kneel down by you, and never a word,
+ Lay my head, and nothing said,
+ In your hands, ungarlanded;
+ And a long watch you would keep;
+ And I should sleep, and I should sleep!
+
+ MATAIEA, _January_ 1914
+
+
+
+
+THE GREAT LOVER
+
+
+ I have been so great a lover: filled my days
+ So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise,
+ The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,
+ Desire illimitable, and still content,
+ And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,
+ For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear
+ Our hearts at random down the dark of life.
+ Now, ere the unthinking silence on that strife
+ Steals down, I would cheat drowsy Death so far,
+ My night shall be remembered for a star
+ That outshone all the suns of all men's days.
+ Shall I not crown them with immortal praise
+ Whom I have loved, who have given me, dared with me
+ High secrets, and in darkness knelt to see
+ The inenarrable godhead of delight?
+ Love is a flame;--we have beaconed the world's night.
+ A city:--and we have built it, these and I.
+ An emperor:--we have taught the world to die.
+ So, for their sakes I loved, ere I go hence,
+ And the high cause of Love's magnificence,
+ And to keep loyalties young, I'll write those names
+ Golden for ever, eagles, crying flames,
+ And set them as a banner, that men may know,
+ To dare the generations, burn, and blow
+ Out on the wind of Time, shining and streaming....
+ These I have loved:
+                  White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
+ Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;
+ Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust
+ Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
+ Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;
+ And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
+ And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
+ Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;
+ Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon
+ Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss
+ Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is
+ Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen
+ Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;
+ The benison of hot water; furs to touch;
+ The good smell of old clothes; and other such--
+ The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,
+ Hair's fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers
+ About dead leaves and last year's ferns....
+                                           Dear names,
+ And thousand other throng to me! Royal flames;
+ Sweet water's dimpling laugh from tap or spring;
+ Holes in the ground; and voices that do sing;
+ Voices in laughter, too; and body's pain,
+ Soon turned to peace; and the deep-panting train;
+ Firm sands; the little dulling edge of foam
+ That browns and dwindles as the wave goes home;
+ And washen stones, gay for an hour; the cold
+ Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;
+ Sleep; and high places; footprints in the dew;
+ And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy-new;
+ And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass;--
+ All these have been my loves. And these shall pass,
+ Whatever passes not, in the great hour,
+ Nor all my passion, all my prayers, have power
+ To hold them with me through the gate of Death.
+ They'll play deserter, turn with the traitor breath,
+ Break the high bond we made, and sell Love's trust
+ And sacramented covenant to the dust.
+ --Oh, never a doubt but, somewhere, I shall wake,
+ And give what's left of love again, and make
+ New friends, now strangers....
+                                 But the best I've known,
+ Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown
+ About the winds of the world, and fades from brains
+ Of living men, and dies.
+                          Nothing remains.
+
+ O dear my loves, O faithless, once again
+ This one last gift I give: that after men
+ Shall know, and later lovers, far-removed,
+ Praise you, "All these were lovely"; say, "He loved."
+
+ MATAIEA, 1914
+
+
+
+
+HEAVEN
+
+
+ Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June,
+ Dawdling away their wat'ry noon)
+ Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,
+ Each secret fishy hope or fear.
+ Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;
+ But is there anything Beyond?
+ This life cannot be All, they swear,
+ For how unpleasant, if it were!
+ One may not doubt that, somehow, Good
+ Shall come of Water and of Mud;
+ And, sure, the reverent eye must see
+ A Purpose in Liquidity.
+ We darkly know, by Faith we cry,
+ The future is not Wholly Dry.
+ Mud unto mud!--Death eddies near--
+ Not here the appointed End, not here!
+ But somewhere, beyond Space and Time,
+ Is wetter water, slimier slime!
+ And there (they trust) there swimmeth One
+ Who swam ere rivers were begun,
+ Immense, of fishy form and mind,
+ Squamous, omnipotent, and kind;
+ And under that Almighty Fin,
+ The littlest fish may enter in.
+ Oh! never fly conceals a hook,
+ Fish say, in the Eternal Brook,
+ But more than mundane weeds are there,
+ And mud, celestially fair;
+ Fat caterpillars drift around,
+ And Paradisal grubs are found;
+ Unfading moths, immortal flies,
+ And the worm that never dies.
+ And in that Heaven of all their wish,
+ There shall be no more land, say fish.
+
+
+
+
+DOUBTS
+
+
+ When she sleeps, her soul, I know,
+ Goes a wanderer on the air,
+ Wings where I may never go,
+ Leaves her lying, still and fair,
+ Waiting, empty, laid aside,
+ Like a dress upon a chair....
+ This I know, and yet I know
+ Doubts that will not be denied.
+
+ For if the soul be not in place,
+ What has laid trouble in her face?
+ And, sits there nothing ware and wise
+ Behind the curtains of her eyes,
+ What is it, in the self's eclipse,
+ Shadows, soft and passingly,
+ About the corners of her lips,
+ The smile that is essential she?
+
+ And if the spirit be not there,
+ Why is fragrance in the hair?
+
+
+
+
+THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN
+
+
+ "Oh love is fair, and love is rare;" my dear one she said,
+ "But love goes lightly over." I bowed her foolish head,
+ And kissed her hair and laughed at her. Such a child was she;
+ So new to love, so true to love, and she spoke so bitterly.
+
+ But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known,
+ And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own,
+ Or how should my dear one, being ignorant and young,
+ Have cried on love so bitterly, with so true a tongue?
+
+
+
+
+ HE WONDERS WHETHER TO PRAISE
+ OR TO BLAME HER
+
+
+ I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over,
+   But if to praise or blame you, cannot say.
+ For, who decries the loved, decries the lover;
+   Yet what man lauds the thing he's thrown away?
+
+ Be you, in truth, this dull, slight, cloudy naught,
+   The more fool I, so great a fool to adore;
+ But if you're that high goddess once I thought,
+   The more your godhead is, I lose the more.
+
+ Dear fool, pity the fool who thought you clever!
+   Dear wisdom, do not mock the fool that missed you!
+ Most fair,--the blind has lost your face for ever!
+   Most foul,--how could I see you while I kissed you?
+
+ So ... the poor love of fools and blind I've proved you,
+ For, foul or lovely, 'twas a fool that loved you.
+
+
+
+
+A MEMORY (_From a sonnet-sequence_)
+
+
+ Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept
+   Softly along the dim way to your room,
+   And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom,
+ And holiness about you as you slept.
+ I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept
+   About my head, and held it. I had rest
+   Unhoped this side of Heaven, beneath your breast.
+ I knelt a long time, still; nor even wept.
+
+ It was great wrong you did me; and for gain
+ Of that poor moment's kindliness, and ease,
+ And sleepy mother-comfort!
+                            Child, you know
+ How easily love leaps out to dreams like these,
+ Who has seen them true. And love that's wakened so
+ Takes all too long to lay asleep again.
+
+ WAIKIKI, _October_ 1913
+
+
+
+
+ONE DAY
+
+
+ Today I have been happy. All the day
+   I held the memory of you, and wove
+ Its laughter with the dancing light o' the spray,
+   And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love,
+ And sent you following the white waves of sea,
+   And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth,
+ Stray buds from that old dust of misery,
+   Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth.
+
+ So lightly I played with those dark memories,
+ Just as a child, beneath the summer skies,
+   Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone,
+ For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old,
+   And love has been betrayed, and murder done,
+ And great kings turned to a little bitter mould.
+
+ THE PACIFIC, _October_ 1913
+
+
+
+
+WAIKIKI
+
+
+ Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree
+   Drift down the darkness. Plangent, hidden from eyes,
+   Somewhere an _eukaleli_ thrills and cries
+ And stabs with pain the night's brown savagery.
+ And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,
+   Gleam like a woman's hair, stretch out, and rise;
+   And new stars burn into the ancient skies,
+ Over the murmurous soft Hawaian sea.
+
+ And I recall, lose, grasp, forget again,
+   And still remember, a tale I have heard, or known
+ An empty tale, of idleness and pain,
+   Of two that loved--or did not love--and one
+ Whose perplexed heart did evil, foolishly,
+ A long while since, and by some other sea.
+
+ WAIKIKI, 1913
+
+
+
+
+HAUNTINGS
+
+
+ In the grey tumult of these after years
+   Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part;
+ And less-than-echoes of remembered tears
+   Hush all the loud confusion of the heart;
+ And a shade, through the toss'd ranks of mirth and crying
+   Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood,--
+ Quite lost, and all but all forgot, undying,
+   Comes back the ecstasy of your quietude.
+
+ So a poor ghost, beside his misty streams,
+ Is haunted by strange doubts, evasive dreams,
+   Hints of a pre-Lethean life, of men,
+ Stars, rocks, and flesh, things unintelligible,
+   And light on waving grass, he knows not when,
+ And feet that ran, but where, he cannot tell.
+
+ THE PACIFIC, 1914
+
+
+
+
+SONNET (_Suggested by some of the Proceedings of the Society
+for Psychical Research_)
+
+
+ Not with vain tears, when we're beyond the sun,
+   We'll beat on the substantial doors, nor tread
+   Those dusty high-roads of the aimless dead
+ Plaintive for Earth; but rather turn and run
+ Down some close-covered by-way of the air,
+   Some low sweet alley between wind and wind,
+   Stoop under faint gleams, thread the shadows, find
+ Some whispering ghost-forgotten nook, and there
+
+ Spend in pure converse our eternal day;
+   Think each in each, immediately wise;
+ Learn all we lacked before; hear, know, and say
+   What this tumultuous body now denies;
+ And feel, who have laid our groping hands away;
+   And see, no longer blinded by our eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CLOUDS
+
+
+ Down the blue night the unending columns press
+   In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow,
+   Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow
+ Up to the white moon's hidden loveliness.
+ Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless,
+   And turn with profound gesture vague and slow,
+   As who would pray good for the world, but know
+ Their benediction empty as they bless.
+
+ They say that the Dead die not, but remain
+   Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth.
+     I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these,
+ In wise majestic melancholy train,
+     And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas,
+   And men, coming and going on the earth.
+
+ THE PACIFIC, _October_ 1913
+
+
+
+
+MUTABILITY
+
+
+ They say there's a high windless world and strange,
+   Out of the wash of days and temporal tide,
+   Where Faith and Good, Wisdom and Truth abide,
+ _Æterna corpora_, subject to no change.
+ There the sure suns of these pale shadows move;
+   There stand the immortal ensigns of our war;
+   Our melting flesh fixed Beauty there, a star,
+ And perishing hearts, imperishable Love....
+
+ Dear, we know only that we sigh, kiss, smile;
+   Each kiss lasts but the kissing; and grief goes over;
+   Love has no habitation but the heart.
+ Poor straws! on the dark flood we catch awhile,
+   Cling, and are borne into the night apart.
+   The laugh dies with the lips, 'Love' with the lover.
+
+ SOUTH KENSINGTON--MAKAWELI, 1913
+
+
+
+
+OTHER POEMS
+
+
+
+
+THE BUSY HEART
+
+
+ Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted,
+   I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend.
+ (O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted)
+   I'll think of Love in books, Love without end;
+ Women with child, content; and old men sleeping;
+   And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain;
+ And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping;
+   And the young heavens, forgetful after rain;
+ And evening hush, broken by homing wings;
+   And Song's nobility, and Wisdom holy,
+ That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things,
+   Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly,
+ One after one, like tasting a sweet food.
+ I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE
+
+
+ Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate,
+   Where that comes in that shall not go again;
+ Love sells the proud heart's citadel to Fate.
+   They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then,
+ When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking,
+   And agony's forgot, and hushed the crying
+ Of credulous hearts, in heaven--such are but taking
+   Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying
+ Each in his lonely night, each with a ghost.
+   Some share that night. But they know, love grows colder,
+ Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most.
+   Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder,
+ But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss.
+ All this is love; and all love is but this.
+
+
+
+
+UNFORTUNATE
+
+
+ Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap
+   That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind;
+   Saying, "She is most wise, patient and kind.
+ Between the small hands folded in her lap
+ Surely a shamed head may bow down at length,
+   And find forgiveness where the shadows stir
+ About her lips, and wisdom in her strength,
+   Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!"...
+
+ She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,
+   So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me.
+   She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me,
+     And open wide upon that holy air
+ The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home,
+     Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHILTERNS
+
+
+ Your hands, my dear, adorable,
+   Your lips of tenderness
+ --Oh, I've loved you faithfully and well,
+   Three years, or a bit less.
+   It wasn't a success.
+
+ Thank God, that's done! and I'll take the road,
+   Quit of my youth and you,
+ The Roman road to Wendover
+   By Tring and Lilley Hoo,
+   As a free man may do.
+
+ For youth goes over, the joys that fly,
+   The tears that follow fast;
+ And the dirtiest things we do must lie
+   Forgotten at the last;
+   Even Love goes past.
+
+ What's left behind I shall not find,
+   The splendour and the pain;
+ The splash of sun, the shouting wind,
+   And the brave sting of rain,
+   I may not meet again.
+
+ But the years, that take the best away,
+   Give something in the end;
+ And a better friend than love have they,
+   For none to mar or mend,
+   That have themselves to friend.
+
+ I shall desire and I shall find
+   The best of my desires;
+ The autumn road, the mellow wind
+   That soothes the darkening shires.
+   And laughter, and inn-fires.
+
+ White mist about the black hedgerows,
+   The slumbering Midland plain,
+ The silence where the clover grows,
+   And the dead leaves in the lane,
+   Certainly, these remain.
+
+ And I shall find some girl perhaps,
+   And a better one than you,
+ With eyes as wise, but kindlier,
+   And lips as soft, but true.
+   And I daresay she will do.
+
+
+
+
+HOME
+
+
+ I came back late and tired last night
+   Into my little room,
+ To the long chair and the firelight
+   And comfortable gloom.
+
+ But as I entered softly in
+   I saw a woman there,
+ The line of neck and cheek and chin,
+   The darkness of her hair,
+ The form of one I did not know
+   Sitting in my chair.
+
+ I stood a moment fierce and still,
+   Watching her neck and hair.
+ I made a step to her; and saw
+   That there was no one there.
+
+ It was some trick of the firelight
+   That made me see her there.
+ It was a chance of shade and light
+   And the cushion in the chair.
+
+ Oh, all you happy over the earth,
+   That night, how could I sleep?
+ I lay and watched the lonely gloom;
+   And watched the moonlight creep
+ From wall to basin, round the room.
+   All night I could not sleep.
+
+
+
+
+THE NIGHT JOURNEY
+
+
+ Hands and lit faces eddy to a line;
+   The dazed last minutes click; the clamour dies.
+ Beyond the great-swung arc o' the roof, divine,
+   Night, smoky-scarv'd, with thousand coloured eyes
+
+ Glares the imperious mystery of the way.
+   Thirsty for dark, you feel the long-limbed train
+ Throb, stretch, thrill motion, slide, pull out and sway,
+   Strain for the far, pause, draw to strength again....
+
+ As a man, caught by some great hour, will rise,
+   Slow-limbed, to meet the light or find his love;
+ And, breathing long, with staring sightless eyes,
+   Hands out, head back, agape and silent, move
+
+ Sure as a flood, smooth as a vast wind blowing;
+   And, gathering power and purpose as he goes,
+ Unstumbling, unreluctant, strong, unknowing,
+   Borne by a will not his, that lifts, that grows,
+
+ Sweep out to darkness, triumphing in his goal,
+   Out of the fire, out of the little room....
+ --There is an end appointed, O my soul!
+   Crimson and green the signals burn; the gloom
+
+ Is hung with steam's far-blowing livid streamers.
+   Lost into God, as lights in light, we fly,
+ Grown one with will, end-drunken huddled dreamers.
+   The white lights roar. The sounds of the world die.
+
+ And lips and laughter are forgotten things.
+   Speed sharpens; grows. Into the night, and on,
+ The strength and splendour of our purpose swings.
+   The lamps fade; and the stars. We are alone.
+
+
+
+
+SONG
+
+
+ All suddenly the wind comes soft,
+   And Spring is here again;
+ And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green,
+   And my heart with buds of pain.
+
+ My heart all Winter lay so numb,
+   The earth so dead and frore,
+ That I never thought the Spring would come,
+   Or my heart wake any more.
+
+ But Winter's broken and earth has woken,
+   And the small birds cry again;
+ And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,
+   And my heart puts forth its pain.
+
+
+
+
+BEAUTY AND BEAUTY
+
+
+ When Beauty and Beauty meet
+   All naked, fair to fair,
+ The earth is crying-sweet,
+   And scattering-bright the air,
+ Eddying, dizzying, closing round,
+   With soft and drunken laughter;
+ Veiling all that may befall
+   After--after--
+
+ Where Beauty and Beauty met,
+   Earth's still a-tremble there,
+ And winds are scented yet,
+   And memory-soft the air,
+ Bosoming, folding glints of light,
+   And shreds of shadowy laughter;
+ Not the tears that fill the years
+   After--after--
+
+
+
+
+THE WAY THAT LOVERS USE
+
+
+ The way that lovers use is this;
+   They bow, catch hands, with never a word,
+ And their lips meet, and they do kiss,
+   --So I have heard.
+
+ They queerly find some healing so,
+   And strange attainment in the touch;
+ There is a secret lovers know,
+   --I have read as much.
+
+ And theirs no longer joy nor smart,
+   Changing or ending, night or day;
+ But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,
+   --So lovers say.
+
+
+
+
+MARY AND GABRIEL
+
+
+ Young Mary, loitering once her garden way,
+ Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day,
+ As wine that blushes water through. And soon,
+ Out of the gold air of the afternoon,
+ One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire,
+ Bound back above his ears with golden wire,
+ Baring the eager marble of his face.
+ Not man's nor woman's was the immortal grace
+ Rounding the limbs beneath that robe of white,
+ And lighting the proud eyes with changeless light,
+ Incurious. Calm as his wings, and fair,
+ That presence filled the garden.
+                                  She stood there,
+ Saying, "What would you, Sir?"
+                                He told his word,
+ "Blessed art thou of women!" Half she heard,
+ Hands folded and face bowed, half long had known,
+ The message of that clear and holy tone,
+ That fluttered hot sweet sobs about her heart;
+ Such serene tidings moved such human smart.
+ Her breath came quick as little flakes of snow.
+ Her hands crept up her breast. She did but know
+ It was not hers. She felt a trembling stir
+ Within her body, a will too strong for her
+ That held and filled and mastered all. With eyes
+ Closed, and a thousand soft short broken sighs,
+ She gave submission; fearful, meek, and glad....
+   She wished to speak. Under her breasts she had
+ Such multitudinous burnings, to and fro,
+ And throbs not understood; she did not know
+ If they were hurt or joy for her; but only
+ That she was grown strange to herself, half lonely,
+ All wonderful, filled full of pains to come
+ And thoughts she dare not think, swift thoughts and dumb,
+ Human, and quaint, her own, yet very far,
+ Divine, dear, terrible, familiar...
+ Her heart was faint for telling; to relate
+ Her limbs' sweet treachery, her strange high estate,
+ Over and over, whispering, half revealing,
+ Weeping; and so find kindness to her healing.
+ 'Twixt tears and laughter, panic hurrying her,
+ She raised her eyes to that fair messenger.
+ He knelt unmoved, immortal; with his eyes
+ Gazing beyond her, calm to the calm skies;
+ Radiant, untroubled in his wisdom, kind.
+ His sheaf of lilies stirred not in the wind.
+ How should she, pitiful with mortality,
+ Try the wide peace of that felicity
+ With ripples of her perplexed shaken heart,
+ And hints of human ecstasy, human smart,
+ And whispers of the lonely weight she bore,
+ And how her womb within was hers no more
+ And at length hers?
+                     Being tired, she bowed her head;
+ And said, "So be it!"
+                       The great wings were spread
+ Showering glory on the fields, and fire.
+ The whole air, singing, bore him up, and higher,
+ Unswerving, unreluctant. Soon he shone
+ A gold speck in the gold skies; then was gone.
+
+ The air was colder, and grey. She stood alone.
+
+
+
+
+THE FUNERAL OF YOUTH: THRENODY
+
+
+ The day that _Youth_ had died,
+ There came to his grave-side,
+ In decent mourning, from the county's ends,
+ Those scatter'd friends
+ Who had lived the boon companions of his prime,
+ And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted,
+ In feast and wine and many-crown'd carouse,
+ The days and nights and dawnings of the time
+ When _Youth_ kept open house,
+ Nor left untasted
+ Aught of his high emprise and ventures dear,
+ No quest of his unshar'd--
+ All these, with loitering feet and sad head bar'd,
+ Followed their old friend's bier.
+ _Folly_ went first,
+ With muffled bells and coxcomb still revers'd;
+ And after trod the bearers, hat in hand--
+ _Laughter_, most hoarse, and Captain _Pride_ with tanned
+ And martial face all grim, and fussy _Joy_,
+ Who had to catch a train, and _Lust_, poor, snivelling boy;
+ These bore the dear departed.
+ Behind them, broken-hearted,
+ Came _Grief_, so noisy a widow, that all said,
+ "Had he but wed
+ Her elder sister _Sorrow_, in her stead!"
+ And by her, trying to soothe her all the time,
+ The fatherless children, _Colour_, _Tune_, and _Rhyme_
+ (The sweet lad _Rhyme_), ran all-uncomprehending.
+ Then, at the way's sad ending,
+ Round the raw grave they stay'd. Old _Wisdom_ read,
+ In mumbling tone, the Service for the Dead.
+ There stood _Romance_,
+ The furrowing tears had mark'd her rougèd cheek;
+ Poor old _Conceit_, his wonder unassuaged;
+ Dead _Innocency's_ daughter, _Ignorance_;
+ And shabby, ill-dress'd _Generosity_;
+ And _Argument_, too full of woe to speak;
+ _Passion_, grown portly, something middle-aged;
+ And _Friendship_--not a minute older, she;
+ _Impatience_, ever taking out his watch;
+ _Faith_, who was deaf, and had to lean, to catch
+ Old _Wisdom's_ endless drone.
+ _Beauty_ was there,
+ Pale in her black; dry-eyed; she stood alone.
+ Poor maz'd _Imagination_; _Fancy_ wild;
+ _Ardour_, the sunlight on his greying hair;
+ _Contentment_, who had known _Youth_ as a child
+ And never seen him since. And _Spring_ came too,
+ Dancing over the tombs, and brought him flowers--
+ She did not stay for long.
+ And _Truth_, and _Grace_, and all the merry crew,
+ The laughing _Winds_ and _Rivers_, and lithe _Hours_;
+ And _Hope_, the dewy-eyed; and sorrowing _Song_;--
+ Yes, with much woe and mourning general,
+ At dead _Youth's_ funeral,
+ Even these were met once more together, all,
+ Who erst the fair and living _Youth_ did know;
+ All, except only _Love_. _Love_ had died long ago.
+
+
+
+
+GRANTCHESTER
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER
+
+(_Café des Westens, Berlin, May_ 1912)
+
+
+ Just now the lilac is in bloom,
+ All before my little room;
+ And in my flower-beds, I think,
+ Smile the carnation and the pink;
+ And down the borders, well I know,
+ The poppy and the pansy blow...
+ Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through,
+ Beside the river make for you
+ A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep
+ Deeply above; and green and deep
+ The stream mysterious glides beneath,
+ Green as a dream and deep as death.
+ --Oh, damn! I know it! and I know
+ How the May fields all golden show,
+ And when the day is young and sweet,
+ Gild gloriously the bare feet
+ That run to bathe...
+                   _Du lieber Gott!_
+
+ Here am I, sweating, sick, and hot,
+ And there the shadowed waters fresh
+ Lean up to embrace the naked flesh.
+ _Temperamentvoll_ German Jews
+ Drink beer around;--and _there_ the dews
+ Are soft beneath a morn of gold.
+ Here tulips bloom as they are told;
+ Unkempt about those hedges blows
+ An English unofficial rose;
+ And there the unregulated sun
+ Slopes down to rest when day is done,
+ And wakes a vague unpunctual star,
+ A slippered Hesper; and there are
+ Meads towards Haslingfield and Coton
+ Where das _Betreten's_ not _verboten_.
+
+ [Greek: eithe genoimên] ... Would I were
+ In Grantchester, in Grantchester!--
+ Some, it may be, can get in touch
+ With Nature there, or Earth, or such.
+ And clever modern men have seen
+ A Faun a-peeping through the green,
+ And felt the Classics were not dead,
+ To glimpse a Naiad's reedy head,
+ Or hear the Goat-foot piping low:...
+ But these are things I do not know.
+ I only know that you may lie
+ Day long and watch the Cambridge sky,
+ And, flower-lulled in sleepy grass,
+ Hear the cool lapse of hours pass,
+ Until the centuries blend and blur
+ In Grantchester, in Grantchester....
+ Still in the dawnlit waters cool
+ His ghostly Lordship swims his pool,
+ And tries the strokes, essays the tricks,
+ Long learnt on Hellespont, or Styx.
+ Dan Chaucer hears his river still
+ Chatter beneath a phantom mill.
+ Tennyson notes, with studious eye,
+ How Cambridge waters hurry by...
+ And in that garden, black and white,
+ Creep whispers through the grass all night;
+ And spectral dance, before the dawn,
+ A hundred Vicars down the lawn;
+ Curates, long dust, will come and go
+ On lissom, clerical, printless toe;
+ And oft between the boughs is seen
+ The sly shade of a Rural Dean...
+ Till, at a shiver in the skies,
+ Vanishing with Satanic cries,
+ The prim ecclesiastic rout
+ Leaves but a startled sleeper-out,
+ Grey heavens, the first bird's drowsy calls,
+ The falling house that never falls.
+
+ God! I will pack, and take a train,
+ And get me to England once again!
+ For England's the one land, I know,
+ Where men with Splendid Hearts may go;
+ And Cambridgeshire, of all England,
+ The shire for Men who Understand;
+ And of _that_ district I prefer
+ The lovely hamlet Grantchester.
+ For Cambridge people rarely smile,
+ Being urban, squat, and packed with guile;
+ And Royston men in the far South
+ Are black and fierce and strange of mouth;
+ At Over they fling oaths at one,
+ And worse than oaths at Trumpington,
+ And Ditton girls are mean and dirty,
+ And there's none in Harston under thirty,
+ And folks in Shelford and those parts
+ Have twisted lips and twisted hearts,
+ And Barton men make Cockney rhymes,
+ And Coton's full of nameless crimes,
+ And things are done you'd not believe
+ At Madingley, on Christmas Eve.
+ Strong men have run for miles and miles,
+ When one from Cherry Hinton smiles;
+ Strong men have blanched, and shot their wives,
+ Rather than send them to St. Ives;
+ Strong men have cried like babes, bydam,
+ To hear what happened at Babraham.
+ But Grantchester! ah, Grantchester!
+ There's peace and holy quiet there,
+ Great clouds along pacific skies,
+ And men and women with straight eyes,
+ Lithe children lovelier than a dream,
+ A bosky wood, a slumbrous stream,
+ And little kindly winds that creep
+ Round twilight corners, half asleep.
+ In Grantchester their skins are white;
+ They bathe by day, they bathe by night;
+ The women there do all they ought;
+ The men observe the Rules of Thought.
+ They love the Good; they worship Truth;
+ They laugh uproariously in youth;
+ (And when they get to feeling old,
+ They up and shoot themselves, I'm told)...
+
+   Ah God! to see the branches stir
+ Across the moon at Grantchester!
+ To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten
+ Unforgettable, unforgotten
+ River-smell, and hear the breeze
+ Sobbing in the little trees.
+ Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand
+ Still guardians of that holy land?
+ The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream,
+ The yet unacademic stream?
+ Is dawn a secret shy and cold
+ Anadyomene, silver-gold?
+ And sunset still a golden sea
+ From Haslingfield to Madingley?
+ And after, ere the night is born,
+ Do hares come out about the corn?
+ Oh, is the water sweet and cool,
+ Gentle and brown, above the pool?
+ And laughs the immortal river still
+ Under the mill, under the mill?
+ Say, is there Beauty yet to find?
+ And Certainty? and Quiet kind?
+ Deep meadows yet, for to forget
+ The lies, and truths, and pain?... oh! yet
+ Stands the Church clock at ten to three?
+ And is there honey still for tea?
+
+
+
+
+ PRINTED AT THE COMPLETE PRESS
+ WEST NORWOOD
+ LONDON
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
+
+Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,
+the book is a faithful transcript of the original physical book.
+
+
+
+
+
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of 1914 and Other Poems, by Rupert Brooke.
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 1914 and Other Poems, by Rupert Brooke
+
+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: 1914 and Other Poems
+
+Author: Rupert Brooke
+
+Release Date: October 29, 2010 [EBook #33902]
+
+Language: English
+
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+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1914 AND OTHER POEMS ***
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+
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+Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed
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+produced from images generously made available by The
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+
+
+<p class="smallgap">&#160;</p>
+<h1>1914</h1>
+<h2>AND OTHER POEMS</h2>
+
+<h2>BY RUPERT BROOKE</h2>
+
+<p class="titlegap">&#160;</p>
+<h3>LONDON<br />
+SIDGWICK &amp; JACKSON LIMITED<br />
+3 ADAM STREET ADELPHI W.C.<br />
+1915</h3>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 366px;">
+<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="366" height="500" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<p class="center"><i>Copyright 1915 by Sidgwick &amp; Jackson Ltd.<br />
+All rights reserved</i><br />
+<br />
+PRINTED AT THE COMPLETE PRESS<br />
+WEST NORWOOD<br />
+LONDON</p>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle"><i>By the same Author</i></span><br />
+<span class="i0 headstyle">POEMS</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0"><small>(<i>Sidgwick &amp; Jackson Ltd.</i>)</small></span><br />
+<span class="i1"><i>First edition, 1911</i></span><br />
+<span class="i1"><i>Reprinted 1913</i></span><br />
+<span class="i1"><i>May 1915 (twice)</i></span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">RUPERT BROOKE</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i1">Born at Rugby, August 3, 1887</span>
+<span class="i1">Fellow of King's, 1913</span>
+<span class="i1">Sub-Lieutenant, R.N.V.R., September 1914</span>
+<span class="i1">Antwerp Expedition, October 1914</span>
+<span class="i1">Sailed with British Mediterranean</span>
+<span class="i2"> Expeditionary Force, February 28, 1915</span>
+<span class="i1">Died in the &AElig;gean, April 23, 1915</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p>These poems have appeared in <i>New Numbers</i>, the old <i>Poetry Review</i>,
+<i>Poetry and Drama</i>, <i>Rhythm</i>, <i>The Blue Review</i>, <i>The New Statesman</i>,
+<i>The Pall Mall Magazine</i>, and <i>Basileon</i>. Acknowledgements are due to
+the Editors who have allowed them to be reprinted.</p>
+
+<p>The Author had thought of publishing a volume of poems this spring, but
+he did not prepare the present book for publication.</p>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="1" summary="EDITORSSIGNATURE">
+
+<tr><td align="left"><i>May 1915</i></td>
+<td align="right">E. M.</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="1" summary="CONTENTS">
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="chgfont">CONTENTS</span></td>
+<td align="right">&#160;</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="chgfont">1914</span></td>
+<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I. <span class="smcap">Peace</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.75em;">II. <span class="smcap">Safety</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">III. <span class="smcap">The Dead</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.75em;">IV. <span class="smcap">The Dead</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">V. <span class="smcap">The Soldier</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Treasure</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="chgfont">THE SOUTH SEAS</span></td>
+<td align="right">&#160;</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Tiare Tahiti</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Retrospect</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Great Lover</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Heaven</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Doubts</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">There's Wisdom in Women</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">He wonders whether to praise or to</span></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><span class="smcap">blame her</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">A Memory</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">One Day</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Waikiki</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Hauntings</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Sonnet</span> (<i>Suggested by some of the Proceedings</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>of the Society for Psychical Research</i>)</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Clouds</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Mutability</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="chgfont">OTHER POEMS</span></td>
+<td align="right">&#160;</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Busy Heart</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Love</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Unfortunate</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Chilterns</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Home</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Night Journey</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Song</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Beauty and Beauty</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Way that Lovers use</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Mary and Gabriel</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Funeral of Youth</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="chgfont">GRANTCHESTER</span></td>
+<td align="right">&#160;</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">The Old Vicarage, Grantchester</span></span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<h2>1914</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">I. PEACE</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And all the little emptiness of love!<br /></span>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Naught broken save this body, lost but breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But only agony, and that has ending;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">II. SAFETY</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He who has found our hid security,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We have found safety with all things undying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sleep, and freedom, and the autumnal earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We have built a house that is not for Time's throwing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We have gained a peace unshaken by pain for ever.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">War knows no power. Safe shall be my going,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Secretly armed against all death's endeavour;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">III. THE DEAD</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These laid the world away; poured out the red<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That men call age; and those who would have been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their sons, they gave, their immortality.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blow, bugles, blow! They brought us, for our dearth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Holiness, lacked so long, and Love, and Pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And paid his subjects with a royal wage;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Nobleness walks in our ways again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And we have come into our heritage.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">IV. THE DEAD</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sunset, and the colours of the earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These had seen movement, and heard music; known<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A width, a shining peace, under the night.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">V. THE SOLDIER</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If I should die, think only this of me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That there's some corner of a foreign field<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That is for ever England. There shall be<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A body of England's, breathing English air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And think, this heart, all evil shed away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A pulse in the eternal mind, no less<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE TREASURE</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When colour goes home into the eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And lights that shine are shut again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With dancing girls and sweet birds' cries<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Behind the gateways of the brain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that no-place which gave them birth, shall close<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rainbow and the rose:&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Still may Time hold some golden space<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where I'll unpack that scented store<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of song and flower and sky and face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And count, and touch, and turn them o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Musing upon them; as a mother, who<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has watched her children all the rich day through<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sits, quiet-handed, in the fading light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When children sleep, ere night.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17-8]</a></span></p><h2>THE SOUTH SEAS</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">TIARE TAHITI</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mamua, when our laughter ends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hearts and bodies, brown as white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are dust about the doors of friends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or scent ablowing down the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, oh! then, the wise agree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes our immortality.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mamua, there waits a land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hard for us to understand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of time, beyond the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All are one in Paradise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You and Pupure are one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Ta&uuml;, and the ungainly wise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the Eternals are, and there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Good, the Lovely, and the True,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Types, whose earthly copies were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The foolish broken things we knew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is the Face, whose ghosts we are;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The real, the never-setting Star;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Flower, of which we love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faint and fading shadows here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never a tear, but only Grief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dance, but not the limbs that move;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Songs in Song shall disappear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Instead of lovers, Love shall be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For hearts, Immutability;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there, on the Ideal Reef,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thunders the Everlasting Sea!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">And my laughter, and my pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall home to the Eternal Brain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all lovely things, they say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meet in Loveliness again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Miri's laugh, Te&iuml;po's feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the hands of Matua,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stars and sunlight there shall meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Coral's hues and rainbows there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Te&uuml;ra's braided hair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with the starred <i>tiare's</i> white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And white birds in the dark ravine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>flamboyants</i> ablaze at night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And jewels, and evening's after-green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dawns of pearl and gold and red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mamua, your lovelier head!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there'll no more be one who dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under the ferns, of crumbling stuff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eyes of illusion, mouth that seems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All time-entangled human love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you'll no longer swing and sway<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Divinely down the scented shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where feet to Ambulation fade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And moons are lost in endless Day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How shall we wind these wreaths of ours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where there are neither heads nor flowers?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, Heaven's Heaven!&mdash;but we'll be missing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The palms, and sunlight, and the south;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there's an end, I think, of kissing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When our mouths are one with Mouth....<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1"><i>Ta&uuml; here</i>, Mamua,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crown the hair, and come away!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hear the calling of the moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the whispering scents that stray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the idle warm lagoon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hasten, hand in human hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down the dark, the flowered way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the whiteness of the sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the water's soft caress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wash the mind of foolishness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mamua, until the day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spend the glittering moonlight there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pursuing down the soundless deep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Limbs that gleam and shadowy hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or floating lazy, half-asleep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dive and double and follow after,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snare in flowers, and kiss, and call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lips that fade, and human laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And faces individual,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well this side of Paradise!...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's little comfort in the wise.<br /></span></div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">Papeete</span>, <i>February</i> 1914</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">RETROSPECT</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In your arms was still delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quiet as a street at night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thoughts of you, I do remember,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were green leaves in a darkened chamber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were dark clouds in a moonless sky.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love, in you, went passing by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Penetrative, remote, and rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a bird in the wide air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, as the bird, it left no trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the heaven of your face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In your stupidity I found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sweet hush after a sweet sound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All about you was the light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That dims the greying end of night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire was the unrisen sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Joy the day not yet begun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tree whispering to tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without wind, quietly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wisdom slept within your hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Long-Suffering was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, in the flowing of your dress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Undiscerning Tenderness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when you thought, it seemed to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Infinitely, and like a sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the slight world you had known<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your vast unconsciousness was thrown....<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">O haven without wave or tide!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silence, in which all songs have died!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Holy book, where hearts are still!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And home at length under the hill!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O mother quiet, breasts of peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where love itself would faint and cease!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O infinite deep I never knew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would come back, come back to you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Find you, as a pool unstirred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kneel down by you, and never a word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lay my head, and nothing said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In your hands, ungarlanded;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a long watch you would keep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I should sleep, and I should sleep!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">Mataiea</span>, <i>January</i> 1914</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE GREAT LOVER</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have been so great a lover: filled my days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire illimitable, and still content,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our hearts at random down the dark of life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, ere the unthinking silence on that strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Steals down, I would cheat drowsy Death so far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My night shall be remembered for a star<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That outshone all the suns of all men's days.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall I not crown them with immortal praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom I have loved, who have given me, dared with me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High secrets, and in darkness knelt to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The inenarrable godhead of delight?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love is a flame;&mdash;we have beaconed the world's night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A city:&mdash;and we have built it, these and I.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An emperor:&mdash;we have taught the world to die.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, for their sakes I loved, ere I go hence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the high cause of Love's magnificence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to keep loyalties young, I'll write those names<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Golden for ever, eagles, crying flames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And set them as a banner, that men may know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dare the generations, burn, and blow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out on the wind of Time, shining and streaming....<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><span class="i0">These I have loved:<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The benison of hot water; furs to touch;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good smell of old clothes; and other such&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hair's fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About dead leaves and last year's ferns....<br /></span>
+<span class="i15">Dear names,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thousand other throng to me! Royal flames;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet water's dimpling laugh from tap or spring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Holes in the ground; and voices that do sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Voices in laughter, too; and body's pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon turned to peace; and the deep-panting train;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Firm sands; the little dulling edge of foam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That browns and dwindles as the wave goes home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And washen stones, gay for an hour; the cold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleep; and high places; footprints in the dew;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span><span class="i0">And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy-new;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All these have been my loves. And these shall pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whatever passes not, in the great hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor all my passion, all my prayers, have power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hold them with me through the gate of Death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They'll play deserter, turn with the traitor breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Break the high bond we made, and sell Love's trust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sacramented covenant to the dust.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;Oh, never a doubt but, somewhere, I shall wake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And give what's left of love again, and make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">New friends, now strangers....<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">But the best I've known,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the winds of the world, and fades from brains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of living men, and dies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Nothing remains.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O dear my loves, O faithless, once again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This one last gift I give: that after men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall know, and later lovers, far-removed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Praise you, "All these were lovely"; say, "He loved."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">Mataiea</span>, 1914</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">HEAVEN</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dawdling away their wat'ry noon)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each secret fishy hope or fear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But is there anything Beyond?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This life cannot be All, they swear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For how unpleasant, if it were!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One may not doubt that, somehow, Good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall come of Water and of Mud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, sure, the reverent eye must see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Purpose in Liquidity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We darkly know, by Faith we cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The future is not Wholly Dry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mud unto mud!&mdash;Death eddies near&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not here the appointed End, not here!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But somewhere, beyond Space and Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is wetter water, slimier slime!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there (they trust) there swimmeth One<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who swam ere rivers were begun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Immense, of fishy form and mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Squamous, omnipotent, and kind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And under that Almighty Fin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The littlest fish may enter in.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! never fly conceals a hook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fish say, in the Eternal Brook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But more than mundane weeds are there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mud, celestially fair;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span><span class="i0">Fat caterpillars drift around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Paradisal grubs are found;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unfading moths, immortal flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the worm that never dies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in that Heaven of all their wish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There shall be no more land, say fish.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">DOUBTS</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When she sleeps, her soul, I know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goes a wanderer on the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wings where I may never go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaves her lying, still and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waiting, empty, laid aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a dress upon a chair....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This I know, and yet I know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doubts that will not be denied.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For if the soul be not in place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What has laid trouble in her face?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, sits there nothing ware and wise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind the curtains of her eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is it, in the self's eclipse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shadows, soft and passingly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the corners of her lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The smile that is essential she?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And if the spirit be not there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why is fragrance in the hair?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh love is fair, and love is rare;" my dear one she said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"But love goes lightly over." I bowed her foolish head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kissed her hair and laughed at her. Such a child was she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So new to love, so true to love, and she spoke so bitterly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or how should my dear one, being ignorant and young,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have cried on love so bitterly, with so true a tongue?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">HE WONDERS WHETHER TO PRAISE<br /></span>
+<span class="i3 headstyle">OR TO BLAME HER</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But if to praise or blame you, cannot say.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, who decries the loved, decries the lover;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yet what man lauds the thing he's thrown away?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Be you, in truth, this dull, slight, cloudy naught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The more fool I, so great a fool to adore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if you're that high goddess once I thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The more your godhead is, I lose the more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear fool, pity the fool who thought you clever!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dear wisdom, do not mock the fool that missed you!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most fair,&mdash;the blind has lost your face for ever!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Most foul,&mdash;how could I see you while I kissed you?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So ... the poor love of fools and blind I've proved you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, foul or lovely, 'twas a fool that loved you.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">A MEMORY (<i>From a sonnet-sequence</i>)</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Softly along the dim way to your room,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And holiness about you as you slept.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">About my head, and held it. I had rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unhoped this side of Heaven, beneath your breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I knelt a long time, still; nor even wept.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It was great wrong you did me; and for gain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of that poor moment's kindliness, and ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sleepy mother-comfort!<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Child, you know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How easily love leaps out to dreams like these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who has seen them true. And love that's wakened so<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Takes all too long to lay asleep again.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">Waikiki</span>, <i>October</i> 1913</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">ONE DAY</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Today I have been happy. All the day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I held the memory of you, and wove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its laughter with the dancing light o' the spray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sent you following the white waves of sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stray buds from that old dust of misery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So lightly I played with those dark memories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just as a child, beneath the summer skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And love has been betrayed, and murder done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And great kings turned to a little bitter mould.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">The Pacific</span>, <i>October</i> 1913</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">WAIKIKI</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Drift down the darkness. Plangent, hidden from eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Somewhere an <i>eukaleli</i> thrills and cries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stabs with pain the night's brown savagery.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gleam like a woman's hair, stretch out, and rise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And new stars burn into the ancient skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over the murmurous soft Hawaian sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I recall, lose, grasp, forget again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And still remember, a tale I have heard, or known<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An empty tale, of idleness and pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of two that loved&mdash;or did not love&mdash;and one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose perplexed heart did evil, foolishly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A long while since, and by some other sea.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">Waikiki</span>, 1913</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">HAUNTINGS</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the grey tumult of these after years<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And less-than-echoes of remembered tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hush all the loud confusion of the heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a shade, through the toss'd ranks of mirth and crying<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite lost, and all but all forgot, undying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Comes back the ecstasy of your quietude.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So a poor ghost, beside his misty streams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is haunted by strange doubts, evasive dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hints of a pre-Lethean life, of men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stars, rocks, and flesh, things unintelligible,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And light on waving grass, he knows not when,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And feet that ran, but where, he cannot tell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">The Pacific</span>, 1914</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">SONNET (<i>Suggested by some of the Proceedings</i><br /></span>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span style="font-size: 110%;"><i>of the Society for Psychical Research</i>)</span></span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not with vain tears, when we're beyond the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We'll beat on the substantial doors, nor tread<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Those dusty high-roads of the aimless dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plaintive for Earth; but rather turn and run<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down some close-covered by-way of the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Some low sweet alley between wind and wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Stoop under faint gleams, thread the shadows, find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some whispering ghost-forgotten nook, and there<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Spend in pure converse our eternal day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Think each in each, immediately wise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Learn all we lacked before; hear, know, and say<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What this tumultuous body now denies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And feel, who have laid our groping hands away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And see, no longer blinded by our eyes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">CLOUDS</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Down the blue night the unending columns press<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up to the white moon's hidden loveliness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And turn with profound gesture vague and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As who would pray good for the world, but know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their benediction empty as they bless.<br /></span></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They say that the Dead die not, but remain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In wise majestic melancholy train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men, coming and going on the earth.<br /></span></div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">The Pacific</span>, <i>October</i> 1913</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">MUTABILITY</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They say there's a high windless world and strange,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Out of the wash of days and temporal tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where Faith and Good, Wisdom and Truth abide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>&AElig;terna corpora</i>, subject to no change.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the sure suns of these pale shadows move;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There stand the immortal ensigns of our war;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our melting flesh fixed Beauty there, a star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And perishing hearts, imperishable Love....<br /></span></div>
+
+<div class="stanza"><span class="i0">Dear, we know only that we sigh, kiss, smile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each kiss lasts but the kissing; and grief goes over;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Love has no habitation but the heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor straws! on the dark flood we catch awhile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Cling, and are borne into the night apart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The laugh dies with the lips, 'Love' with the lover.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle4"><span class="smcap">South Kensington&mdash;Makaweli</span>, 1913</span></div>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 39-40]</a></span></p>
+<h2>OTHER POEMS</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE BUSY HEART</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted)<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I'll think of Love in books, Love without end;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Women with child, content; and old men sleeping;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the young heavens, forgetful after rain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And evening hush, broken by homing wings;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Song's nobility, and Wisdom holy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One after one, like tasting a sweet food.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have need to busy my heart with quietude.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">LOVE</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where that comes in that shall not go again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love sells the proud heart's citadel to Fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And agony's forgot, and hushed the crying<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of credulous hearts, in heaven&mdash;such are but taking<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each in his lonely night, each with a ghost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Some share that night. But they know, love grows colder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All this is love; and all love is but this.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">UNFORTUNATE</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Saying, "She is most wise, patient and kind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between the small hands folded in her lap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surely a shamed head may bow down at length,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And find forgiveness where the shadows stir<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About her lips, and wisdom in her strength,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!"...<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And open wide upon that holy air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE CHILTERNS</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Your hands, my dear, adorable,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Your lips of tenderness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;Oh, I've loved you faithfully and well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Three years, or a bit less.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It wasn't a success.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thank God, that's done! and I'll take the road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Quit of my youth and you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Roman road to Wendover<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By Tring and Lilley Hoo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As a free man may do.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For youth goes over, the joys that fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The tears that follow fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the dirtiest things we do must lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Forgotten at the last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Even Love goes past.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What's left behind I shall not find,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The splendour and the pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The splash of sun, the shouting wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the brave sting of rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I may not meet again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the years, that take the best away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Give something in the end;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a better friend than love have they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For none to mar or mend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That have themselves to friend.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I shall desire and I shall find<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The best of my desires;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The autumn road, the mellow wind<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That soothes the darkening shires.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And laughter, and inn-fires.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">White mist about the black hedgerows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The slumbering Midland plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silence where the clover grows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the dead leaves in the lane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Certainly, these remain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I shall find some girl perhaps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And a better one than you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With eyes as wise, but kindlier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And lips as soft, but true.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I daresay she will do.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">HOME</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I came back late and tired last night<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Into my little room,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the long chair and the firelight<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And comfortable gloom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But as I entered softly in<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I saw a woman there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The line of neck and cheek and chin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The darkness of her hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The form of one I did not know<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sitting in my chair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I stood a moment fierce and still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Watching her neck and hair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I made a step to her; and saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That there was no one there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It was some trick of the firelight<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That made me see her there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was a chance of shade and light<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the cushion in the chair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, all you happy over the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That night, how could I sleep?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I lay and watched the lonely gloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And watched the moonlight creep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From wall to basin, round the room.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All night I could not sleep.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE NIGHT JOURNEY</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hands and lit faces eddy to a line;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The dazed last minutes click; the clamour dies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond the great-swung arc o' the roof, divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Night, smoky-scarv'd, with thousand coloured eyes<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Glares the imperious mystery of the way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thirsty for dark, you feel the long-limbed train<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throb, stretch, thrill motion, slide, pull out and sway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Strain for the far, pause, draw to strength again....<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As a man, caught by some great hour, will rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Slow-limbed, to meet the light or find his love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, breathing long, with staring sightless eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hands out, head back, agape and silent, move<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sure as a flood, smooth as a vast wind blowing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, gathering power and purpose as he goes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unstumbling, unreluctant, strong, unknowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Borne by a will not his, that lifts, that grows,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweep out to darkness, triumphing in his goal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Out of the fire, out of the little room....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;There is an end appointed, O my soul!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Crimson and green the signals burn; the gloom<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is hung with steam's far-blowing livid streamers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lost into God, as lights in light, we fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grown one with will, end-drunken huddled dreamers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The white lights roar. The sounds of the world die.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And lips and laughter are forgotten things.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Speed sharpens; grows. Into the night, and on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The strength and splendour of our purpose swings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The lamps fade; and the stars. We are alone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">SONG</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All suddenly the wind comes soft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Spring is here again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And my heart with buds of pain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart all Winter lay so numb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The earth so dead and frore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I never thought the Spring would come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or my heart wake any more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Winter's broken and earth has woken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the small birds cry again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And my heart puts forth its pain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">BEAUTY AND BEAUTY</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Beauty and Beauty meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All naked, fair to fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The earth is crying-sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And scattering-bright the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eddying, dizzying, closing round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With soft and drunken laughter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Veiling all that may befall<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">After&mdash;after&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where Beauty and Beauty met,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Earth's still a-tremble there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And winds are scented yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And memory-soft the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bosoming, folding glints of light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And shreds of shadowy laughter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not the tears that fill the years<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">After&mdash;after&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE WAY THAT LOVERS USE</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The way that lovers use is this;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They bow, catch hands, with never a word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their lips meet, and they do kiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&mdash;So I have heard.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They queerly find some healing so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And strange attainment in the touch;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is a secret lovers know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&mdash;I have read as much.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And theirs no longer joy nor smart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Changing or ending, night or day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&mdash;So lovers say.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">MARY AND GABRIEL</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Young Mary, loitering once her garden way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As wine that blushes water through. And soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the gold air of the afternoon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bound back above his ears with golden wire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baring the eager marble of his face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not man's nor woman's was the immortal grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rounding the limbs beneath that robe of white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lighting the proud eyes with changeless light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Incurious. Calm as his wings, and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That presence filled the garden.<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">She stood there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saying, "What would you, Sir?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">He told his word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Blessed art thou of women!" Half she heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hands folded and face bowed, half long had known,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The message of that clear and holy tone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fluttered hot sweet sobs about her heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such serene tidings moved such human smart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her breath came quick as little flakes of snow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her hands crept up her breast. She did but know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was not hers. She felt a trembling stir<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within her body, a will too strong for her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That held and filled and mastered all. With eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Closed, and a thousand soft short broken sighs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She gave submission; fearful, meek, and glad....<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span><span class="i1">She wished to speak. Under her breasts she had<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such multitudinous burnings, to and fro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And throbs not understood; she did not know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If they were hurt or joy for her; but only<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she was grown strange to herself, half lonely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All wonderful, filled full of pains to come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thoughts she dare not think, swift thoughts and dumb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Human, and quaint, her own, yet very far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Divine, dear, terrible, familiar...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her heart was faint for telling; to relate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her limbs' sweet treachery, her strange high estate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over and over, whispering, half revealing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weeping; and so find kindness to her healing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twixt tears and laughter, panic hurrying her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She raised her eyes to that fair messenger.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He knelt unmoved, immortal; with his eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazing beyond her, calm to the calm skies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Radiant, untroubled in his wisdom, kind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His sheaf of lilies stirred not in the wind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should she, pitiful with mortality,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Try the wide peace of that felicity<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ripples of her perplexed shaken heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hints of human ecstasy, human smart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whispers of the lonely weight she bore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how her womb within was hers no more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at length hers?<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Being tired, she bowed her head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said, "So be it!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">The great wings were spread<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span><span class="i0">Showering glory on the fields, and fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whole air, singing, bore him up, and higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unswerving, unreluctant. Soon he shone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gold speck in the gold skies; then was gone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The air was colder, and grey. She stood alone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE FUNERAL OF YOUTH: THRENODY</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The day that <i>Youth</i> had died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There came to his grave-side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In decent mourning, from the county's ends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those scatter'd friends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who had lived the boon companions of his prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In feast and wine and many-crown'd carouse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The days and nights and dawnings of the time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When <i>Youth</i> kept open house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor left untasted<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aught of his high emprise and ventures dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No quest of his unshar'd&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All these, with loitering feet and sad head bar'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Followed their old friend's bier.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Folly</i> went first,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With muffled bells and coxcomb still revers'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And after trod the bearers, hat in hand&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Laughter</i>, most hoarse, and Captain <i>Pride</i> with tanned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And martial face all grim, and fussy <i>Joy</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who had to catch a train, and <i>Lust</i>, poor, snivelling boy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These bore the dear departed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind them, broken-hearted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came <i>Grief</i>, so noisy a widow, that all said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Had he but wed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her elder sister <i>Sorrow</i>, in her stead!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by her, trying to soothe her all the time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fatherless children, <i>Colour</i>, <i>Tune</i>, and <i>Rhyme</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The sweet lad <i>Rhyme</i>), ran all-uncomprehending.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, at the way's sad ending,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span><span class="i0">Round the raw grave they stay'd. Old <i>Wisdom</i> read,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mumbling tone, the Service for the Dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There stood <i>Romance</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The furrowing tears had mark'd her roug&egrave;d cheek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor old <i>Conceit</i>, his wonder unassuaged;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dead <i>Innocency's</i> daughter, <i>Ignorance</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shabby, ill-dress'd <i>Generosity</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Argument</i>, too full of woe to speak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Passion</i>, grown portly, something middle-aged;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Friendship</i>&mdash;not a minute older, she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Impatience</i>, ever taking out his watch;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Faith</i>, who was deaf, and had to lean, to catch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old <i>Wisdom's</i> endless drone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Beauty</i> was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pale in her black; dry-eyed; she stood alone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor maz'd <i>Imagination</i>; <i>Fancy</i> wild;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ardour</i>, the sunlight on his greying hair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Contentment</i>, who had known <i>Youth</i> as a child<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never seen him since. And <i>Spring</i> came too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dancing over the tombs, and brought him flowers&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She did not stay for long.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Truth</i>, and <i>Grace</i>, and all the merry crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The laughing <i>Winds</i> and <i>Rivers</i>, and lithe <i>Hours</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>Hope</i>, the dewy-eyed; and sorrowing <i>Song</i>;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, with much woe and mourning general,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At dead <i>Youth's</i> funeral,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even these were met once more together, all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who erst the fair and living <i>Youth</i> did know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All, except only <i>Love</i>. <i>Love</i> had died long ago.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 57-58]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="GRANTCHESTER" id="GRANTCHESTER"></a>GRANTCHESTER</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p><div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER</span><br />
+<span class="i0 headstyle4">(<i>Caf&eacute; des Westens, Berlin, May</i> 1912)</span></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Just now the lilac is in bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All before my little room;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in my flower-beds, I think,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smile the carnation and the pink;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down the borders, well I know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poppy and the pansy blow...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beside the river make for you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deeply above; and green and deep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stream mysterious glides beneath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Green as a dream and deep as death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;Oh, damn! I know it! and I know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the May fields all golden show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the day is young and sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gild gloriously the bare feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That run to bathe...<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Du lieber Gott!</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here am I, sweating, sick, and hot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there the shadowed waters fresh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lean up to embrace the naked flesh.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Temperamentvoll</i> German Jews<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drink beer around;&mdash;and <i>there</i> the dews<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are soft beneath a morn of gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here tulips bloom as they are told;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unkempt about those hedges blows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An English unofficial rose;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span><span class="i0">And there the unregulated sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slopes down to rest when day is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wakes a vague unpunctual star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A slippered Hesper; and there are<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meads towards Haslingfield and Coton<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where das <i>Betreten's</i> not <i>verboten</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&#949;&#970;&#952;&#949; &#947;&#949;&#957;&#959;&#943;&#956;&#951;&#957;... Would I were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Grantchester, in Grantchester!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some, it may be, can get in touch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Nature there, or Earth, or such.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And clever modern men have seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Faun a-peeping through the green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And felt the Classics were not dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To glimpse a Naiad's reedy head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or hear the Goat-foot piping low:...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But these are things I do not know.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I only know that you may lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Day long and watch the Cambridge sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, flower-lulled in sleepy grass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hear the cool lapse of hours pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the centuries blend and blur<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Grantchester, in Grantchester....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still in the dawnlit waters cool<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His ghostly Lordship swims his pool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tries the strokes, essays the tricks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long learnt on Hellespont, or Styx.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dan Chaucer hears his river still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chatter beneath a phantom mill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tennyson notes, with studious eye,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span><span class="i0">How Cambridge waters hurry by...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in that garden, black and white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Creep whispers through the grass all night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spectral dance, before the dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hundred Vicars down the lawn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Curates, long dust, will come and go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On lissom, clerical, printless toe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oft between the boughs is seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sly shade of a Rural Dean...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till, at a shiver in the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vanishing with Satanic cries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prim ecclesiastic rout<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaves but a startled sleeper-out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grey heavens, the first bird's drowsy calls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The falling house that never falls.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">God! I will pack, and take a train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And get me to England once again!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For England's the one land, I know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where men with Splendid Hearts may go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Cambridgeshire, of all England,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shire for Men who Understand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of <i>that</i> district I prefer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lovely hamlet Grantchester.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Cambridge people rarely smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Being urban, squat, and packed with guile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Royston men in the far South<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are black and fierce and strange of mouth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Over they fling oaths at one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And worse than oaths at Trumpington,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span><span class="i0">And Ditton girls are mean and dirty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there's none in Harston under thirty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And folks in Shelford and those parts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have twisted lips and twisted hearts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Barton men make Cockney rhymes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Coton's full of nameless crimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And things are done you'd not believe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Madingley, on Christmas Eve.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong men have run for miles and miles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When one from Cherry Hinton smiles;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong men have blanched, and shot their wives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rather than send them to St. Ives;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong men have cried like babes, bydam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear what happened at Babraham.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Grantchester! ah, Grantchester!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's peace and holy quiet there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great clouds along pacific skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men and women with straight eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lithe children lovelier than a dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bosky wood, a slumbrous stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And little kindly winds that creep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round twilight corners, half asleep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Grantchester their skins are white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They bathe by day, they bathe by night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The women there do all they ought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The men observe the Rules of Thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They love the Good; they worship Truth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They laugh uproariously in youth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And when they get to feeling old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They up and shoot themselves, I'm told)...<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Ah God! to see the branches stir<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the moon at Grantchester!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unforgettable, unforgotten<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">River-smell, and hear the breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sobbing in the little trees.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still guardians of that holy land?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The yet unacademic stream?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is dawn a secret shy and cold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anadyomene, silver-gold?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sunset still a golden sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Haslingfield to Madingley?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And after, ere the night is born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do hares come out about the corn?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, is the water sweet and cool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gentle and brown, above the pool?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laughs the immortal river still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under the mill, under the mill?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, is there Beauty yet to find?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Certainty? and Quiet kind?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep meadows yet, for to forget<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lies, and truths, and pain?... oh! yet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stands the Church clock at ten to three?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And is there honey still for tea?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<p class="center">PRINTED AT THE COMPLETE PRESS<br />
+WEST NORWOOD<br />
+LONDON</p>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Transcriber's Note:</span></h3>
+
+<p>Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,
+the book is a faithful transcript of the original physical book.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 1914 and Other Poems, by Rupert Brooke
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 1914 and Other Poems, by Rupert Brooke
+
+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: 1914 and Other Poems
+
+Author: Rupert Brooke
+
+Release Date: October 29, 2010 [EBook #33902]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1914 AND OTHER POEMS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ 1914
+ AND OTHER POEMS
+ BY RUPERT BROOKE
+
+ LONDON
+
+ SIDGWICK & JACKSON LIMITED
+
+ 3 ADAM STREET ADELPHI W.C.
+ 1915
+
+
+
+
+ _Copyright 1915 by Sidgwick & Jackson Ltd.
+ All rights reserved_
+
+ PRINTED AT THE COMPLETE PRESS
+ WEST NORWOOD
+ LONDON
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Rupert Brooke 1913]
+
+
+
+
+ _By the same Author_
+ POEMS
+ (_Sidgwick & Jackson Ltd._)
+    _First edition, 1911
+    Reprinted 1913
+     May 1915 (twice)_
+
+
+
+
+RUPERT BROOKE
+
+ Born at Rugby, August 3, 1887
+ Fellow of King's, 1913
+ Sub-Lieutenant, R.N.V.R., September 1914
+ Antwerp Expedition, October 1914
+ Sailed with British Mediterranean
+   Expeditionary Force, February 28, 1915
+ Died in the AEgean, April 23, 1915
+
+
+
+
+These poems have appeared in _New Numbers_, the old _Poetry Review_,
+_Poetry and Drama_, _Rhythm_, _The Blue Review_, _The New Statesman_,
+_The Pall Mall Magazine_, and _Basileon_. Acknowledgements are due to
+the Editors who have allowed them to be reprinted.
+
+The Author had thought of publishing a volume of poems this spring,
+but he did not prepare the present book for publication.
+
+ _May 1915_                                      E. M.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ 1914
+
+                                                PAGE
+
+   I. PEACE                                      11
+  II. SAFETY                                     12
+ III. THE DEAD                                   13
+  IV. THE DEAD                                   14
+   V. THE SOLDIER                                15
+ THE TREASURE                                    16
+
+
+ THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+ TIARE TAHITI                                    19
+ RETROSPECT                                      22
+ THE GREAT LOVER                                 24
+ HEAVEN                                          27
+ DOUBTS                                          29
+ THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN                         30
+ HE WONDERS WHETHER TO PRAISE OR TO BLAME HER    31
+ A MEMORY                                        32
+ ONE DAY                                         33
+ WAIKIKI                                         34
+ HAUNTINGS                                       35
+ SONNET (_Suggested by some of the Proceedings
+   of the Society for Psychical Research_)       36
+ CLOUDS                                          37
+ MUTABILITY                                      38
+
+
+ OTHER POEMS
+
+ THE BUSY HEART                                  41
+ LOVE                                            42
+ UNFORTUNATE                                     43
+ THE CHILTERNS                                   44
+ HOME                                            46
+ THE NIGHT JOURNEY                               47
+ SONG                                            49
+ BEAUTY AND BEAUTY                               50
+ THE WAY THAT LOVERS USE                         51
+ MARY AND GABRIEL                                52
+ THE FUNERAL OF YOUTH                            55
+
+
+ GRANTCHESTER
+
+ THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER                  59
+
+
+
+
+1914
+
+
+
+
+I. PEACE
+
+
+ Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour,
+   And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping,
+ With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,
+   To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,
+ Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,
+   Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,
+ And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,
+   And all the little emptiness of love!
+
+ Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,
+   Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending,
+     Naught broken save this body, lost but breath;
+ Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there
+   But only agony, and that has ending;
+     And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
+
+
+
+
+II. SAFETY
+
+
+ Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
+   He who has found our hid security,
+ Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
+   And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'
+ We have found safety with all things undying,
+   The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth,
+ The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying,
+   And sleep, and freedom, and the autumnal earth.
+ We have built a house that is not for Time's throwing.
+   We have gained a peace unshaken by pain for ever.
+ War knows no power. Safe shall be my going,
+   Secretly armed against all death's endeavour;
+ Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;
+ And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.
+
+
+
+
+III. THE DEAD
+
+
+ Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
+   There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
+   But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.
+ These laid the world away; poured out the red
+ Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be
+   Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene,
+   That men call age; and those who would have been,
+ Their sons, they gave, their immortality.
+
+ Blow, bugles, blow! They brought us, for our dearth,
+   Holiness, lacked so long, and Love, and Pain.
+ Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,
+   And paid his subjects with a royal wage;
+ And Nobleness walks in our ways again;
+   And we have come into our heritage.
+
+
+
+
+IV. THE DEAD
+
+
+ These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
+   Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
+ The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
+   And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
+ These had seen movement, and heard music; known
+   Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
+ Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
+   Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.
+
+ There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
+ And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
+   Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
+ And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
+   Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
+ A width, a shining peace, under the night.
+
+
+
+
+V. THE SOLDIER
+
+
+ If I should die, think only this of me:
+   That there's some corner of a foreign field
+ That is for ever England. There shall be
+   In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
+ A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
+   Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
+ A body of England's, breathing English air,
+   Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
+
+ And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
+   A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
+     Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
+ Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
+   And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
+     In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
+
+
+
+
+THE TREASURE
+
+
+ When colour goes home into the eyes,
+   And lights that shine are shut again
+ With dancing girls and sweet birds' cries
+   Behind the gateways of the brain;
+ And that no-place which gave them birth, shall close
+ The rainbow and the rose:--
+
+ Still may Time hold some golden space
+   Where I'll unpack that scented store
+ Of song and flower and sky and face,
+   And count, and touch, and turn them o'er,
+ Musing upon them; as a mother, who
+ Has watched her children all the rich day through
+ Sits, quiet-handed, in the fading light,
+ When children sleep, ere night.
+
+
+
+
+THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+
+
+
+TIARE TAHITI
+
+
+ Mamua, when our laughter ends,
+ And hearts and bodies, brown as white,
+ Are dust about the doors of friends,
+ Or scent ablowing down the night,
+ Then, oh! then, the wise agree,
+ Comes our immortality.
+ Mamua, there waits a land
+ Hard for us to understand.
+ Out of time, beyond the sun,
+ All are one in Paradise,
+ You and Pupure are one,
+ And Taue, and the ungainly wise.
+ There the Eternals are, and there
+ The Good, the Lovely, and the True,
+ And Types, whose earthly copies were
+ The foolish broken things we knew;
+ There is the Face, whose ghosts we are;
+ The real, the never-setting Star;
+ And the Flower, of which we love
+ Faint and fading shadows here;
+ Never a tear, but only Grief;
+ Dance, but not the limbs that move;
+ Songs in Song shall disappear;
+ Instead of lovers, Love shall be;
+ For hearts, Immutability;
+ And there, on the Ideal Reef,
+ Thunders the Everlasting Sea!
+
+   And my laughter, and my pain,
+ Shall home to the Eternal Brain.
+ And all lovely things, they say,
+ Meet in Loveliness again;
+ Miri's laugh, Teipo's feet,
+ And the hands of Matua,
+ Stars and sunlight there shall meet,
+ Coral's hues and rainbows there,
+ And Teuera's braided hair;
+ And with the starred _tiare's_ white,
+ And white birds in the dark ravine,
+ And _flamboyants_ ablaze at night,
+ And jewels, and evening's after-green,
+ And dawns of pearl and gold and red,
+ Mamua, your lovelier head!
+ And there'll no more be one who dreams
+ Under the ferns, of crumbling stuff,
+ Eyes of illusion, mouth that seems,
+ All time-entangled human love.
+ And you'll no longer swing and sway
+ Divinely down the scented shade,
+ Where feet to Ambulation fade,
+ And moons are lost in endless Day.
+ How shall we wind these wreaths of ours,
+ Where there are neither heads nor flowers?
+ Oh, Heaven's Heaven!--but we'll be missing
+ The palms, and sunlight, and the south;
+ And there's an end, I think, of kissing,
+ When our mouths are one with Mouth....
+
+   _Taue here_, Mamua,
+ Crown the hair, and come away!
+ Hear the calling of the moon,
+ And the whispering scents that stray
+ About the idle warm lagoon.
+ Hasten, hand in human hand,
+ Down the dark, the flowered way,
+ Along the whiteness of the sand,
+ And in the water's soft caress,
+ Wash the mind of foolishness,
+ Mamua, until the day.
+ Spend the glittering moonlight there
+ Pursuing down the soundless deep
+ Limbs that gleam and shadowy hair,
+ Or floating lazy, half-asleep.
+ Dive and double and follow after,
+ Snare in flowers, and kiss, and call,
+ With lips that fade, and human laughter
+ And faces individual,
+ Well this side of Paradise!...
+ There's little comfort in the wise.
+
+ PAPEETE, _February_ 1914
+
+
+
+
+RETROSPECT
+
+
+ In your arms was still delight,
+ Quiet as a street at night;
+ And thoughts of you, I do remember,
+ Were green leaves in a darkened chamber,
+ Were dark clouds in a moonless sky.
+ Love, in you, went passing by,
+ Penetrative, remote, and rare,
+ Like a bird in the wide air,
+ And, as the bird, it left no trace
+ In the heaven of your face.
+ In your stupidity I found
+ The sweet hush after a sweet sound.
+ All about you was the light
+ That dims the greying end of night;
+ Desire was the unrisen sun,
+ Joy the day not yet begun,
+ With tree whispering to tree,
+ Without wind, quietly.
+ Wisdom slept within your hair,
+ And Long-Suffering was there,
+ And, in the flowing of your dress,
+ Undiscerning Tenderness.
+ And when you thought, it seemed to me,
+ Infinitely, and like a sea,
+ About the slight world you had known
+ Your vast unconsciousness was thrown....
+
+   O haven without wave or tide!
+ Silence, in which all songs have died!
+ Holy book, where hearts are still!
+ And home at length under the hill!
+ O mother quiet, breasts of peace,
+ Where love itself would faint and cease!
+ O infinite deep I never knew,
+ I would come back, come back to you,
+ Find you, as a pool unstirred,
+ Kneel down by you, and never a word,
+ Lay my head, and nothing said,
+ In your hands, ungarlanded;
+ And a long watch you would keep;
+ And I should sleep, and I should sleep!
+
+ MATAIEA, _January_ 1914
+
+
+
+
+THE GREAT LOVER
+
+
+ I have been so great a lover: filled my days
+ So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise,
+ The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,
+ Desire illimitable, and still content,
+ And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,
+ For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear
+ Our hearts at random down the dark of life.
+ Now, ere the unthinking silence on that strife
+ Steals down, I would cheat drowsy Death so far,
+ My night shall be remembered for a star
+ That outshone all the suns of all men's days.
+ Shall I not crown them with immortal praise
+ Whom I have loved, who have given me, dared with me
+ High secrets, and in darkness knelt to see
+ The inenarrable godhead of delight?
+ Love is a flame;--we have beaconed the world's night.
+ A city:--and we have built it, these and I.
+ An emperor:--we have taught the world to die.
+ So, for their sakes I loved, ere I go hence,
+ And the high cause of Love's magnificence,
+ And to keep loyalties young, I'll write those names
+ Golden for ever, eagles, crying flames,
+ And set them as a banner, that men may know,
+ To dare the generations, burn, and blow
+ Out on the wind of Time, shining and streaming....
+ These I have loved:
+                  White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
+ Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;
+ Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust
+ Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
+ Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;
+ And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
+ And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
+ Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;
+ Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon
+ Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss
+ Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is
+ Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen
+ Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;
+ The benison of hot water; furs to touch;
+ The good smell of old clothes; and other such--
+ The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,
+ Hair's fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers
+ About dead leaves and last year's ferns....
+                                           Dear names,
+ And thousand other throng to me! Royal flames;
+ Sweet water's dimpling laugh from tap or spring;
+ Holes in the ground; and voices that do sing;
+ Voices in laughter, too; and body's pain,
+ Soon turned to peace; and the deep-panting train;
+ Firm sands; the little dulling edge of foam
+ That browns and dwindles as the wave goes home;
+ And washen stones, gay for an hour; the cold
+ Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;
+ Sleep; and high places; footprints in the dew;
+ And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy-new;
+ And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass;--
+ All these have been my loves. And these shall pass,
+ Whatever passes not, in the great hour,
+ Nor all my passion, all my prayers, have power
+ To hold them with me through the gate of Death.
+ They'll play deserter, turn with the traitor breath,
+ Break the high bond we made, and sell Love's trust
+ And sacramented covenant to the dust.
+ --Oh, never a doubt but, somewhere, I shall wake,
+ And give what's left of love again, and make
+ New friends, now strangers....
+                                 But the best I've known,
+ Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown
+ About the winds of the world, and fades from brains
+ Of living men, and dies.
+                          Nothing remains.
+
+ O dear my loves, O faithless, once again
+ This one last gift I give: that after men
+ Shall know, and later lovers, far-removed,
+ Praise you, "All these were lovely"; say, "He loved."
+
+ MATAIEA, 1914
+
+
+
+
+HEAVEN
+
+
+ Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June,
+ Dawdling away their wat'ry noon)
+ Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,
+ Each secret fishy hope or fear.
+ Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;
+ But is there anything Beyond?
+ This life cannot be All, they swear,
+ For how unpleasant, if it were!
+ One may not doubt that, somehow, Good
+ Shall come of Water and of Mud;
+ And, sure, the reverent eye must see
+ A Purpose in Liquidity.
+ We darkly know, by Faith we cry,
+ The future is not Wholly Dry.
+ Mud unto mud!--Death eddies near--
+ Not here the appointed End, not here!
+ But somewhere, beyond Space and Time,
+ Is wetter water, slimier slime!
+ And there (they trust) there swimmeth One
+ Who swam ere rivers were begun,
+ Immense, of fishy form and mind,
+ Squamous, omnipotent, and kind;
+ And under that Almighty Fin,
+ The littlest fish may enter in.
+ Oh! never fly conceals a hook,
+ Fish say, in the Eternal Brook,
+ But more than mundane weeds are there,
+ And mud, celestially fair;
+ Fat caterpillars drift around,
+ And Paradisal grubs are found;
+ Unfading moths, immortal flies,
+ And the worm that never dies.
+ And in that Heaven of all their wish,
+ There shall be no more land, say fish.
+
+
+
+
+DOUBTS
+
+
+ When she sleeps, her soul, I know,
+ Goes a wanderer on the air,
+ Wings where I may never go,
+ Leaves her lying, still and fair,
+ Waiting, empty, laid aside,
+ Like a dress upon a chair....
+ This I know, and yet I know
+ Doubts that will not be denied.
+
+ For if the soul be not in place,
+ What has laid trouble in her face?
+ And, sits there nothing ware and wise
+ Behind the curtains of her eyes,
+ What is it, in the self's eclipse,
+ Shadows, soft and passingly,
+ About the corners of her lips,
+ The smile that is essential she?
+
+ And if the spirit be not there,
+ Why is fragrance in the hair?
+
+
+
+
+THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN
+
+
+ "Oh love is fair, and love is rare;" my dear one she said,
+ "But love goes lightly over." I bowed her foolish head,
+ And kissed her hair and laughed at her. Such a child was she;
+ So new to love, so true to love, and she spoke so bitterly.
+
+ But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known,
+ And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own,
+ Or how should my dear one, being ignorant and young,
+ Have cried on love so bitterly, with so true a tongue?
+
+
+
+
+ HE WONDERS WHETHER TO PRAISE
+ OR TO BLAME HER
+
+
+ I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over,
+   But if to praise or blame you, cannot say.
+ For, who decries the loved, decries the lover;
+   Yet what man lauds the thing he's thrown away?
+
+ Be you, in truth, this dull, slight, cloudy naught,
+   The more fool I, so great a fool to adore;
+ But if you're that high goddess once I thought,
+   The more your godhead is, I lose the more.
+
+ Dear fool, pity the fool who thought you clever!
+   Dear wisdom, do not mock the fool that missed you!
+ Most fair,--the blind has lost your face for ever!
+   Most foul,--how could I see you while I kissed you?
+
+ So ... the poor love of fools and blind I've proved you,
+ For, foul or lovely, 'twas a fool that loved you.
+
+
+
+
+A MEMORY (_From a sonnet-sequence_)
+
+
+ Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept
+   Softly along the dim way to your room,
+   And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom,
+ And holiness about you as you slept.
+ I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept
+   About my head, and held it. I had rest
+   Unhoped this side of Heaven, beneath your breast.
+ I knelt a long time, still; nor even wept.
+
+ It was great wrong you did me; and for gain
+ Of that poor moment's kindliness, and ease,
+ And sleepy mother-comfort!
+                            Child, you know
+ How easily love leaps out to dreams like these,
+ Who has seen them true. And love that's wakened so
+ Takes all too long to lay asleep again.
+
+ WAIKIKI, _October_ 1913
+
+
+
+
+ONE DAY
+
+
+ Today I have been happy. All the day
+   I held the memory of you, and wove
+ Its laughter with the dancing light o' the spray,
+   And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love,
+ And sent you following the white waves of sea,
+   And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth,
+ Stray buds from that old dust of misery,
+   Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth.
+
+ So lightly I played with those dark memories,
+ Just as a child, beneath the summer skies,
+   Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone,
+ For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old,
+   And love has been betrayed, and murder done,
+ And great kings turned to a little bitter mould.
+
+ THE PACIFIC, _October_ 1913
+
+
+
+
+WAIKIKI
+
+
+ Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree
+   Drift down the darkness. Plangent, hidden from eyes,
+   Somewhere an _eukaleli_ thrills and cries
+ And stabs with pain the night's brown savagery.
+ And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,
+   Gleam like a woman's hair, stretch out, and rise;
+   And new stars burn into the ancient skies,
+ Over the murmurous soft Hawaian sea.
+
+ And I recall, lose, grasp, forget again,
+   And still remember, a tale I have heard, or known
+ An empty tale, of idleness and pain,
+   Of two that loved--or did not love--and one
+ Whose perplexed heart did evil, foolishly,
+ A long while since, and by some other sea.
+
+ WAIKIKI, 1913
+
+
+
+
+HAUNTINGS
+
+
+ In the grey tumult of these after years
+   Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part;
+ And less-than-echoes of remembered tears
+   Hush all the loud confusion of the heart;
+ And a shade, through the toss'd ranks of mirth and crying
+   Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood,--
+ Quite lost, and all but all forgot, undying,
+   Comes back the ecstasy of your quietude.
+
+ So a poor ghost, beside his misty streams,
+ Is haunted by strange doubts, evasive dreams,
+   Hints of a pre-Lethean life, of men,
+ Stars, rocks, and flesh, things unintelligible,
+   And light on waving grass, he knows not when,
+ And feet that ran, but where, he cannot tell.
+
+ THE PACIFIC, 1914
+
+
+
+
+SONNET (_Suggested by some of the Proceedings of the Society
+for Psychical Research_)
+
+
+ Not with vain tears, when we're beyond the sun,
+   We'll beat on the substantial doors, nor tread
+   Those dusty high-roads of the aimless dead
+ Plaintive for Earth; but rather turn and run
+ Down some close-covered by-way of the air,
+   Some low sweet alley between wind and wind,
+   Stoop under faint gleams, thread the shadows, find
+ Some whispering ghost-forgotten nook, and there
+
+ Spend in pure converse our eternal day;
+   Think each in each, immediately wise;
+ Learn all we lacked before; hear, know, and say
+   What this tumultuous body now denies;
+ And feel, who have laid our groping hands away;
+   And see, no longer blinded by our eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CLOUDS
+
+
+ Down the blue night the unending columns press
+   In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow,
+   Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow
+ Up to the white moon's hidden loveliness.
+ Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless,
+   And turn with profound gesture vague and slow,
+   As who would pray good for the world, but know
+ Their benediction empty as they bless.
+
+ They say that the Dead die not, but remain
+   Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth.
+     I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these,
+ In wise majestic melancholy train,
+     And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas,
+   And men, coming and going on the earth.
+
+ THE PACIFIC, _October_ 1913
+
+
+
+
+MUTABILITY
+
+
+ They say there's a high windless world and strange,
+   Out of the wash of days and temporal tide,
+   Where Faith and Good, Wisdom and Truth abide,
+ _AEterna corpora_, subject to no change.
+ There the sure suns of these pale shadows move;
+   There stand the immortal ensigns of our war;
+   Our melting flesh fixed Beauty there, a star,
+ And perishing hearts, imperishable Love....
+
+ Dear, we know only that we sigh, kiss, smile;
+   Each kiss lasts but the kissing; and grief goes over;
+   Love has no habitation but the heart.
+ Poor straws! on the dark flood we catch awhile,
+   Cling, and are borne into the night apart.
+   The laugh dies with the lips, 'Love' with the lover.
+
+ SOUTH KENSINGTON--MAKAWELI, 1913
+
+
+
+
+OTHER POEMS
+
+
+
+
+THE BUSY HEART
+
+
+ Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted,
+   I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend.
+ (O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted)
+   I'll think of Love in books, Love without end;
+ Women with child, content; and old men sleeping;
+   And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain;
+ And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping;
+   And the young heavens, forgetful after rain;
+ And evening hush, broken by homing wings;
+   And Song's nobility, and Wisdom holy,
+ That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things,
+   Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly,
+ One after one, like tasting a sweet food.
+ I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE
+
+
+ Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate,
+   Where that comes in that shall not go again;
+ Love sells the proud heart's citadel to Fate.
+   They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then,
+ When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking,
+   And agony's forgot, and hushed the crying
+ Of credulous hearts, in heaven--such are but taking
+   Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying
+ Each in his lonely night, each with a ghost.
+   Some share that night. But they know, love grows colder,
+ Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most.
+   Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder,
+ But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss.
+ All this is love; and all love is but this.
+
+
+
+
+UNFORTUNATE
+
+
+ Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap
+   That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind;
+   Saying, "She is most wise, patient and kind.
+ Between the small hands folded in her lap
+ Surely a shamed head may bow down at length,
+   And find forgiveness where the shadows stir
+ About her lips, and wisdom in her strength,
+   Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!"...
+
+ She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,
+   So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me.
+   She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me,
+     And open wide upon that holy air
+ The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home,
+     Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHILTERNS
+
+
+ Your hands, my dear, adorable,
+   Your lips of tenderness
+ --Oh, I've loved you faithfully and well,
+   Three years, or a bit less.
+   It wasn't a success.
+
+ Thank God, that's done! and I'll take the road,
+   Quit of my youth and you,
+ The Roman road to Wendover
+   By Tring and Lilley Hoo,
+   As a free man may do.
+
+ For youth goes over, the joys that fly,
+   The tears that follow fast;
+ And the dirtiest things we do must lie
+   Forgotten at the last;
+   Even Love goes past.
+
+ What's left behind I shall not find,
+   The splendour and the pain;
+ The splash of sun, the shouting wind,
+   And the brave sting of rain,
+   I may not meet again.
+
+ But the years, that take the best away,
+   Give something in the end;
+ And a better friend than love have they,
+   For none to mar or mend,
+   That have themselves to friend.
+
+ I shall desire and I shall find
+   The best of my desires;
+ The autumn road, the mellow wind
+   That soothes the darkening shires.
+   And laughter, and inn-fires.
+
+ White mist about the black hedgerows,
+   The slumbering Midland plain,
+ The silence where the clover grows,
+   And the dead leaves in the lane,
+   Certainly, these remain.
+
+ And I shall find some girl perhaps,
+   And a better one than you,
+ With eyes as wise, but kindlier,
+   And lips as soft, but true.
+   And I daresay she will do.
+
+
+
+
+HOME
+
+
+ I came back late and tired last night
+   Into my little room,
+ To the long chair and the firelight
+   And comfortable gloom.
+
+ But as I entered softly in
+   I saw a woman there,
+ The line of neck and cheek and chin,
+   The darkness of her hair,
+ The form of one I did not know
+   Sitting in my chair.
+
+ I stood a moment fierce and still,
+   Watching her neck and hair.
+ I made a step to her; and saw
+   That there was no one there.
+
+ It was some trick of the firelight
+   That made me see her there.
+ It was a chance of shade and light
+   And the cushion in the chair.
+
+ Oh, all you happy over the earth,
+   That night, how could I sleep?
+ I lay and watched the lonely gloom;
+   And watched the moonlight creep
+ From wall to basin, round the room.
+   All night I could not sleep.
+
+
+
+
+THE NIGHT JOURNEY
+
+
+ Hands and lit faces eddy to a line;
+   The dazed last minutes click; the clamour dies.
+ Beyond the great-swung arc o' the roof, divine,
+   Night, smoky-scarv'd, with thousand coloured eyes
+
+ Glares the imperious mystery of the way.
+   Thirsty for dark, you feel the long-limbed train
+ Throb, stretch, thrill motion, slide, pull out and sway,
+   Strain for the far, pause, draw to strength again....
+
+ As a man, caught by some great hour, will rise,
+   Slow-limbed, to meet the light or find his love;
+ And, breathing long, with staring sightless eyes,
+   Hands out, head back, agape and silent, move
+
+ Sure as a flood, smooth as a vast wind blowing;
+   And, gathering power and purpose as he goes,
+ Unstumbling, unreluctant, strong, unknowing,
+   Borne by a will not his, that lifts, that grows,
+
+ Sweep out to darkness, triumphing in his goal,
+   Out of the fire, out of the little room....
+ --There is an end appointed, O my soul!
+   Crimson and green the signals burn; the gloom
+
+ Is hung with steam's far-blowing livid streamers.
+   Lost into God, as lights in light, we fly,
+ Grown one with will, end-drunken huddled dreamers.
+   The white lights roar. The sounds of the world die.
+
+ And lips and laughter are forgotten things.
+   Speed sharpens; grows. Into the night, and on,
+ The strength and splendour of our purpose swings.
+   The lamps fade; and the stars. We are alone.
+
+
+
+
+SONG
+
+
+ All suddenly the wind comes soft,
+   And Spring is here again;
+ And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green,
+   And my heart with buds of pain.
+
+ My heart all Winter lay so numb,
+   The earth so dead and frore,
+ That I never thought the Spring would come,
+   Or my heart wake any more.
+
+ But Winter's broken and earth has woken,
+   And the small birds cry again;
+ And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,
+   And my heart puts forth its pain.
+
+
+
+
+BEAUTY AND BEAUTY
+
+
+ When Beauty and Beauty meet
+   All naked, fair to fair,
+ The earth is crying-sweet,
+   And scattering-bright the air,
+ Eddying, dizzying, closing round,
+   With soft and drunken laughter;
+ Veiling all that may befall
+   After--after--
+
+ Where Beauty and Beauty met,
+   Earth's still a-tremble there,
+ And winds are scented yet,
+   And memory-soft the air,
+ Bosoming, folding glints of light,
+   And shreds of shadowy laughter;
+ Not the tears that fill the years
+   After--after--
+
+
+
+
+THE WAY THAT LOVERS USE
+
+
+ The way that lovers use is this;
+   They bow, catch hands, with never a word,
+ And their lips meet, and they do kiss,
+   --So I have heard.
+
+ They queerly find some healing so,
+   And strange attainment in the touch;
+ There is a secret lovers know,
+   --I have read as much.
+
+ And theirs no longer joy nor smart,
+   Changing or ending, night or day;
+ But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,
+   --So lovers say.
+
+
+
+
+MARY AND GABRIEL
+
+
+ Young Mary, loitering once her garden way,
+ Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day,
+ As wine that blushes water through. And soon,
+ Out of the gold air of the afternoon,
+ One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire,
+ Bound back above his ears with golden wire,
+ Baring the eager marble of his face.
+ Not man's nor woman's was the immortal grace
+ Rounding the limbs beneath that robe of white,
+ And lighting the proud eyes with changeless light,
+ Incurious. Calm as his wings, and fair,
+ That presence filled the garden.
+                                  She stood there,
+ Saying, "What would you, Sir?"
+                                He told his word,
+ "Blessed art thou of women!" Half she heard,
+ Hands folded and face bowed, half long had known,
+ The message of that clear and holy tone,
+ That fluttered hot sweet sobs about her heart;
+ Such serene tidings moved such human smart.
+ Her breath came quick as little flakes of snow.
+ Her hands crept up her breast. She did but know
+ It was not hers. She felt a trembling stir
+ Within her body, a will too strong for her
+ That held and filled and mastered all. With eyes
+ Closed, and a thousand soft short broken sighs,
+ She gave submission; fearful, meek, and glad....
+   She wished to speak. Under her breasts she had
+ Such multitudinous burnings, to and fro,
+ And throbs not understood; she did not know
+ If they were hurt or joy for her; but only
+ That she was grown strange to herself, half lonely,
+ All wonderful, filled full of pains to come
+ And thoughts she dare not think, swift thoughts and dumb,
+ Human, and quaint, her own, yet very far,
+ Divine, dear, terrible, familiar...
+ Her heart was faint for telling; to relate
+ Her limbs' sweet treachery, her strange high estate,
+ Over and over, whispering, half revealing,
+ Weeping; and so find kindness to her healing.
+ 'Twixt tears and laughter, panic hurrying her,
+ She raised her eyes to that fair messenger.
+ He knelt unmoved, immortal; with his eyes
+ Gazing beyond her, calm to the calm skies;
+ Radiant, untroubled in his wisdom, kind.
+ His sheaf of lilies stirred not in the wind.
+ How should she, pitiful with mortality,
+ Try the wide peace of that felicity
+ With ripples of her perplexed shaken heart,
+ And hints of human ecstasy, human smart,
+ And whispers of the lonely weight she bore,
+ And how her womb within was hers no more
+ And at length hers?
+                     Being tired, she bowed her head;
+ And said, "So be it!"
+                       The great wings were spread
+ Showering glory on the fields, and fire.
+ The whole air, singing, bore him up, and higher,
+ Unswerving, unreluctant. Soon he shone
+ A gold speck in the gold skies; then was gone.
+
+ The air was colder, and grey. She stood alone.
+
+
+
+
+THE FUNERAL OF YOUTH: THRENODY
+
+
+ The day that _Youth_ had died,
+ There came to his grave-side,
+ In decent mourning, from the county's ends,
+ Those scatter'd friends
+ Who had lived the boon companions of his prime,
+ And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted,
+ In feast and wine and many-crown'd carouse,
+ The days and nights and dawnings of the time
+ When _Youth_ kept open house,
+ Nor left untasted
+ Aught of his high emprise and ventures dear,
+ No quest of his unshar'd--
+ All these, with loitering feet and sad head bar'd,
+ Followed their old friend's bier.
+ _Folly_ went first,
+ With muffled bells and coxcomb still revers'd;
+ And after trod the bearers, hat in hand--
+ _Laughter_, most hoarse, and Captain _Pride_ with tanned
+ And martial face all grim, and fussy _Joy_,
+ Who had to catch a train, and _Lust_, poor, snivelling boy;
+ These bore the dear departed.
+ Behind them, broken-hearted,
+ Came _Grief_, so noisy a widow, that all said,
+ "Had he but wed
+ Her elder sister _Sorrow_, in her stead!"
+ And by her, trying to soothe her all the time,
+ The fatherless children, _Colour_, _Tune_, and _Rhyme_
+ (The sweet lad _Rhyme_), ran all-uncomprehending.
+ Then, at the way's sad ending,
+ Round the raw grave they stay'd. Old _Wisdom_ read,
+ In mumbling tone, the Service for the Dead.
+ There stood _Romance_,
+ The furrowing tears had mark'd her rouged cheek;
+ Poor old _Conceit_, his wonder unassuaged;
+ Dead _Innocency's_ daughter, _Ignorance_;
+ And shabby, ill-dress'd _Generosity_;
+ And _Argument_, too full of woe to speak;
+ _Passion_, grown portly, something middle-aged;
+ And _Friendship_--not a minute older, she;
+ _Impatience_, ever taking out his watch;
+ _Faith_, who was deaf, and had to lean, to catch
+ Old _Wisdom's_ endless drone.
+ _Beauty_ was there,
+ Pale in her black; dry-eyed; she stood alone.
+ Poor maz'd _Imagination_; _Fancy_ wild;
+ _Ardour_, the sunlight on his greying hair;
+ _Contentment_, who had known _Youth_ as a child
+ And never seen him since. And _Spring_ came too,
+ Dancing over the tombs, and brought him flowers--
+ She did not stay for long.
+ And _Truth_, and _Grace_, and all the merry crew,
+ The laughing _Winds_ and _Rivers_, and lithe _Hours_;
+ And _Hope_, the dewy-eyed; and sorrowing _Song_;--
+ Yes, with much woe and mourning general,
+ At dead _Youth's_ funeral,
+ Even these were met once more together, all,
+ Who erst the fair and living _Youth_ did know;
+ All, except only _Love_. _Love_ had died long ago.
+
+
+
+
+GRANTCHESTER
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER
+
+(_Cafe des Westens, Berlin, May_ 1912)
+
+
+ Just now the lilac is in bloom,
+ All before my little room;
+ And in my flower-beds, I think,
+ Smile the carnation and the pink;
+ And down the borders, well I know,
+ The poppy and the pansy blow...
+ Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through,
+ Beside the river make for you
+ A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep
+ Deeply above; and green and deep
+ The stream mysterious glides beneath,
+ Green as a dream and deep as death.
+ --Oh, damn! I know it! and I know
+ How the May fields all golden show,
+ And when the day is young and sweet,
+ Gild gloriously the bare feet
+ That run to bathe...
+                   _Du lieber Gott!_
+
+ Here am I, sweating, sick, and hot,
+ And there the shadowed waters fresh
+ Lean up to embrace the naked flesh.
+ _Temperamentvoll_ German Jews
+ Drink beer around;--and _there_ the dews
+ Are soft beneath a morn of gold.
+ Here tulips bloom as they are told;
+ Unkempt about those hedges blows
+ An English unofficial rose;
+ And there the unregulated sun
+ Slopes down to rest when day is done,
+ And wakes a vague unpunctual star,
+ A slippered Hesper; and there are
+ Meads towards Haslingfield and Coton
+ Where das _Betreten's_ not _verboten_.
+
+ [Greek: eithe genoimen] ... Would I were
+ In Grantchester, in Grantchester!--
+ Some, it may be, can get in touch
+ With Nature there, or Earth, or such.
+ And clever modern men have seen
+ A Faun a-peeping through the green,
+ And felt the Classics were not dead,
+ To glimpse a Naiad's reedy head,
+ Or hear the Goat-foot piping low:...
+ But these are things I do not know.
+ I only know that you may lie
+ Day long and watch the Cambridge sky,
+ And, flower-lulled in sleepy grass,
+ Hear the cool lapse of hours pass,
+ Until the centuries blend and blur
+ In Grantchester, in Grantchester....
+ Still in the dawnlit waters cool
+ His ghostly Lordship swims his pool,
+ And tries the strokes, essays the tricks,
+ Long learnt on Hellespont, or Styx.
+ Dan Chaucer hears his river still
+ Chatter beneath a phantom mill.
+ Tennyson notes, with studious eye,
+ How Cambridge waters hurry by...
+ And in that garden, black and white,
+ Creep whispers through the grass all night;
+ And spectral dance, before the dawn,
+ A hundred Vicars down the lawn;
+ Curates, long dust, will come and go
+ On lissom, clerical, printless toe;
+ And oft between the boughs is seen
+ The sly shade of a Rural Dean...
+ Till, at a shiver in the skies,
+ Vanishing with Satanic cries,
+ The prim ecclesiastic rout
+ Leaves but a startled sleeper-out,
+ Grey heavens, the first bird's drowsy calls,
+ The falling house that never falls.
+
+ God! I will pack, and take a train,
+ And get me to England once again!
+ For England's the one land, I know,
+ Where men with Splendid Hearts may go;
+ And Cambridgeshire, of all England,
+ The shire for Men who Understand;
+ And of _that_ district I prefer
+ The lovely hamlet Grantchester.
+ For Cambridge people rarely smile,
+ Being urban, squat, and packed with guile;
+ And Royston men in the far South
+ Are black and fierce and strange of mouth;
+ At Over they fling oaths at one,
+ And worse than oaths at Trumpington,
+ And Ditton girls are mean and dirty,
+ And there's none in Harston under thirty,
+ And folks in Shelford and those parts
+ Have twisted lips and twisted hearts,
+ And Barton men make Cockney rhymes,
+ And Coton's full of nameless crimes,
+ And things are done you'd not believe
+ At Madingley, on Christmas Eve.
+ Strong men have run for miles and miles,
+ When one from Cherry Hinton smiles;
+ Strong men have blanched, and shot their wives,
+ Rather than send them to St. Ives;
+ Strong men have cried like babes, bydam,
+ To hear what happened at Babraham.
+ But Grantchester! ah, Grantchester!
+ There's peace and holy quiet there,
+ Great clouds along pacific skies,
+ And men and women with straight eyes,
+ Lithe children lovelier than a dream,
+ A bosky wood, a slumbrous stream,
+ And little kindly winds that creep
+ Round twilight corners, half asleep.
+ In Grantchester their skins are white;
+ They bathe by day, they bathe by night;
+ The women there do all they ought;
+ The men observe the Rules of Thought.
+ They love the Good; they worship Truth;
+ They laugh uproariously in youth;
+ (And when they get to feeling old,
+ They up and shoot themselves, I'm told)...
+
+   Ah God! to see the branches stir
+ Across the moon at Grantchester!
+ To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten
+ Unforgettable, unforgotten
+ River-smell, and hear the breeze
+ Sobbing in the little trees.
+ Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand
+ Still guardians of that holy land?
+ The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream,
+ The yet unacademic stream?
+ Is dawn a secret shy and cold
+ Anadyomene, silver-gold?
+ And sunset still a golden sea
+ From Haslingfield to Madingley?
+ And after, ere the night is born,
+ Do hares come out about the corn?
+ Oh, is the water sweet and cool,
+ Gentle and brown, above the pool?
+ And laughs the immortal river still
+ Under the mill, under the mill?
+ Say, is there Beauty yet to find?
+ And Certainty? and Quiet kind?
+ Deep meadows yet, for to forget
+ The lies, and truths, and pain?... oh! yet
+ Stands the Church clock at ten to three?
+ And is there honey still for tea?
+
+
+
+
+ PRINTED AT THE COMPLETE PRESS
+ WEST NORWOOD
+ LONDON
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
+
+Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,
+the book is a faithful transcript of the original physical book.
+
+
+
+
+
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