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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Century of Roundels, by Algernon Charles
+Swinburne
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world 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.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: A Century of Roundels
+
+
+Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne
+
+
+
+Release Date: August 16, 2014  [eBook #3697]
+[This file was first posted on 24 July 2001]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS***
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1883 Chatto & Windus edition by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+                          A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                        ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE
+
+                      [Picture: Decorative graphic]
+
+                             _SECOND EDITION_
+
+                                  London
+                       CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
+                                   1883
+
+                         [_All rights reserved_]
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                            LONDON: PRINTED BY
+                 SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
+                          AND PARLIAMENT STREET
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+TO
+CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI
+
+
+   SONGS light as these may sound, though deep and strong
+   The heart spake through them, scarce should hope to please
+   Ears tuned to strains of loftier thoughts than throng
+      Songs light as these.
+
+   Yet grace may set their sometime doubt at ease,
+   Nor need their too rash reverence fear to wrong
+   The shrine it serves at and the hope it sees.
+
+   For childlike loves and laughters thence prolong
+   Notes that bid enter, fearless as the breeze,
+   Even to the shrine of holiest-hearted song,
+      Songs light as these.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+                                                 PAGE
+           I.  In Harbour                           1
+          II.               ,,                      2
+         III.  The Way of the Wind                  3
+          IV.  Had I Wist                           4
+           V.  Recollections                        5
+          VI.               ,,                      6
+         VII.               ,,                      7
+        VIII.  Time and Life                        8
+          IX.               ,,                      9
+           X.  A Dialogue                          10
+          XI.               ,,                     11
+         XII.               ,,                     12
+        XIII.  Plus Ultra                          13
+         XIV.  A Dead Friend                       14
+          XV.               ,,                     15
+         XVI.               ,,                     16
+        XVII.               ,,                     17
+       XVIII.               ,,                     18
+         XIX.               ,,                     19
+          XX.               ,,                     20
+         XXI.  Past Days                           21
+        XXII.               ,,                     22
+       XXIII.               ,,                     23
+        XXIV.  Autumn and Winter                   24
+         XXV.               ,,                     25
+        XXVI.               ,,                     26
+       XXVII.               ,,                     27
+      XXVIII.  The Death of Richard Wagner         28
+        XXIX.               ,,                     29
+         XXX.               ,,                     30
+                      Two preludes:
+        XXXI.     Lohengrin                        31
+       XXXII.     Tristan und Isolde               32
+      XXXIII.  The Lute and the Lyre               33
+       XXXIV.  Plus Intra                          34
+        XXXV.  Change                              35
+       XXXVI.  A Baby’s Death                      36
+      XXXVII.               ,,                     37
+     XXXVIII.               ,,                     38
+       XXXIX.               ,,                     39
+          XL.               ,,                     40
+         XLI.               ,,                     41
+        XLII.               ,,                     42
+       XLIII.  One of Twain                        43
+        XLIV.               ,,                     44
+         XLV.  Death and Birth                     45
+        XLVI.  Birth and Death                     46
+       XLVII.  Benediction                         47
+      XLVIII.  Étude Réaliste                      48
+        XLIX.               ,,                     49
+           L.               ,,                     50
+          LI.  Babyhood                            51
+         LII.               ,,                     52
+        LIII.               ,,                     53
+         LIV.               ,,                     54
+          LV.  First Footsteps                     55
+         LVI.  A Ninth Birthday                    56
+        LVII.               ,,                     57
+       LVIII.               ,,                     58
+         LIX.  Not a Child                         59
+          LX.               ,,                     60
+         LXI.               ,,                     61
+        LXII.  To Dora Dorian                      62
+       LXIII.  The Roundel                         63
+        LXIV.  At Sea                              64
+         LXV.  Wasted Love                         65
+        LXVI.  Before Sunset                       66
+       LXVII.  A Singing Lesson                    67
+                      Flower-pieces:
+      LXVIII.     Love Lies Bleeding               68
+        LXIX.     Love in a Mist                   69
+                       Three faces:
+         LXX.     Ventimiglia                      70
+        LXXI.     Genoa                            71
+       LXXII.     Venice                           72
+      LXXIII.  Eros                                73
+       LXXIV.               ,,                     74
+        LXXV.               ,,                     75
+       LXXVI.  Sorrow                              76
+      LXXVII.  Sleep                               77
+     LXXVIII.  On an Old Roundel                   78
+       LXXIX.                                      79
+        LXXX.  A Landscape by Courbet              80
+       LXXXI.  A Flower-piece by Fantin            81
+      LXXXII.  A Night-piece by Millet             82
+     LXXXIII.  Marzo Pazzo                         83
+      LXXXIV.  Dead Love                           84
+       LXXXV.  Discord                             85
+      LXXXVI.  Concord                             86
+     LXXXVII.  Mourning                            87
+    LXXXVIII.  Aperotos Eros                       88
+      LXXXIX.  To Catullus                         89
+          CX.  ‘Insularum Ocelle’                  90
+         CXI.  In Sark                             91
+        CXII.  In Guernsey                         92
+       CXIII.               ,,                     93
+        CXIV.               ,,                     94
+         CXV.               ,,                     95
+        CXVI.               ,,                     96
+       CXVII.               ,,                     97
+      CXVIII.               ,,                     98
+        CXIX.               ,,                     99
+           C.  Envoi                              100
+
+
+
+
+IN HARBOUR.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   GOODNIGHT and goodbye to the life whose signs denote us
+   As mourners clothed with regret for the life gone by;
+   To the waters of gloom whence winds of the dayspring float us
+      Goodnight and goodbye.
+
+   A time is for mourning, a season for grief to sigh;
+   But were we not fools and blind, by day to devote us
+   As thralls to the darkness, unseen of the sundawn’s eye?
+
+   We have drunken of Lethe at length, we have eaten of lotus;
+   What hurts it us here that sorrows are born and die?
+   We have said to the dream that caressed and the dread that smote us
+      Goodnight and goodbye.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Outside of the port ye are moored in, lying
+   Close from the wind and at ease from the tide,
+   What sounds come swelling, what notes fall dying
+      Outside?
+
+   They will not cease, they will not abide:
+   Voices of presage in darkness crying
+   Pass and return and relapse aside.
+
+   Ye see not, but hear ye not wild wings flying
+   To the future that wakes from the past that died?
+   Is grief still sleeping, is joy not sighing
+      Outside?
+
+
+
+
+THE WAY OF THE WIND.
+
+
+   THE wind’s way in the deep sky’s hollow
+   None may measure, as none can say
+   How the heart in her shows the swallow
+      The wind’s way.
+
+   Hope nor fear can avail to stay
+   Waves that whiten on wrecks that wallow,
+   Times and seasons that wane and slay.
+
+   Life and love, till the strong night swallow
+   Thought and hope and the red last ray,
+   Swim the waters of years that follow
+      The wind’s way.
+
+
+
+
+‘HAD I WIST.’
+
+
+   HAD I wist, when life was like a warm wind playing
+   Light and loud through sundawn and the dew’s bright trust,
+   How the time should come for hearts to sigh in saying
+      ‘Had I wist’—
+
+   Surely not the roses, laughing as they kissed,
+   Not the lovelier laugh of seas in sunshine swaying,
+   Should have lured my soul to look thereon and list.
+
+   Now the wind is like a soul cast out and praying
+   Vainly, prayers that pierce not ears when hearts resist:
+   Now mine own soul sighs, adrift as wind and straying,
+      ‘Had I wist.’
+
+
+
+
+RECOLLECTIONS.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   YEARS upon years, as a course of clouds that thicken
+   Thronging the ways of the wind that shifts and veers,
+   Pass, and the flames of remembered fires requicken
+      Years upon years.
+
+   Surely the thought in a man’s heart hopes or fears
+   Now that forgetfulness needs must here have stricken
+   Anguish, and sweetened the sealed-up springs of tears.
+
+   Ah, but the strength of regrets that strain and sicken,
+   Yearning for love that the veil of death endears,
+   Slackens not wing for the wings of years that quicken—
+      Years upon years.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Years upon years, and the flame of love’s high altar
+   Trembles and sinks, and the sense of listening ears
+   Heeds not the sound that it heard of love’s blithe psalter
+      Years upon years.
+
+   Only the sense of a heart that hearkens hears,
+   Louder than dreams that assail and doubts that palter,
+   Sorrow that slept and that wakes ere sundawn peers.
+
+   Wakes, that the heart may behold, and yet not falter,
+   Faces of children as stars unknown of, spheres
+   Seen but of love, that endures though all things alter,
+      Years upon years.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Years upon years, as a watch by night that passes,
+   Pass, and the light of their eyes is fire that sears
+   Slowly the hopes of the fruit that life amasses
+      Years upon years.
+
+   Pale as the glimmer of stars on moorland meres
+   Lighten the shadows reverberate from the glasses
+   Held in their hands as they pass among their peers.
+
+   Lights that are shadows, as ghosts on graveyard grasses,
+   Moving on paths that the moon of memory cheers,
+   Shew but as mists over cloudy mountain passes
+      Years upon years.
+
+
+
+
+TIME AND LIFE.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   TIME, thy name is sorrow, says the stricken
+   Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame
+   Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken,
+      Time, thy name.
+
+   Girt about with shadow, blind and lame,
+   Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken
+   Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame.
+
+   Eyes of hours whose paces halt or quicken
+   Read in bloodred lines of loss and blame,
+   Writ where cloud and darkness round it thicken,
+      Time, thy name.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Nay, but rest is born of me for healing,
+   —So might haply time, with voice represt,
+   Speak: is grief the last gift of my dealing?
+      Nay, but rest.
+
+   All the world is wearied, east and west,
+   Tired with toil to watch the slow sun wheeling,
+   Twelve loud hours of life’s laborious quest.
+
+   Eyes forspent with vigil, faint and reeling,
+   Find at last my comfort, and are blest,
+   Not with rapturous light of life’s revealing—
+      Nay, but rest.
+
+
+
+
+A DIALOGUE.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   DEATH, if thou wilt, fain would I plead with thee:
+   Canst thou not spare, of all our hopes have built,
+   One shelter where our spirits fain would be,
+      Death, if thou wilt?
+
+   No dome with suns and dews impearled and gilt,
+   Imperial: but some roof of wildwood tree,
+   Too mean for sceptre’s heft or swordblade’s hilt.
+
+   Some low sweet roof where love might live, set free
+   From change and fear and dreams of grief or guilt;
+   Canst thou not leave life even thus much to see,
+      Death, if thou wilt?
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Man, what art thou to speak and plead with me?
+   What knowest thou of my workings, where and how
+   What things I fashion?  Nay, behold and see,
+      Man, what art thou?
+
+   Thy fruits of life, and blossoms of thy bough,
+   What are they but my seedlings?  Earth and sea
+   Bear nought but when I breathe on it must bow.
+
+   Bow thou too down before me: though thou be
+   Great, all the pride shall fade from off thy brow,
+   When Time and strong Oblivion ask of thee,
+      Man, what art thou?
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Death, if thou be or be not, as was said,
+   Immortal; if thou make us nought, or we
+   Survive: thy power is made but of our dread,
+      Death, if thou be.
+
+   Thy might is made out of our fear of thee:
+   Who fears thee not, hath plucked from off thine head
+   The crown of cloud that darkens earth and sea.
+
+   Earth, sea, and sky, as rain or vapour shed,
+   Shall vanish; all the shows of them shall flee:
+   Then shall we know full surely, quick or dead,
+      Death, if thou be.
+
+
+
+
+PLUS ULTRA.
+
+
+   FAR beyond the sunrise and the sunset rises
+   Heaven, with worlds on worlds that lighten and respond:
+   Thought can see not thence the goal of hope’s surmises
+      Far beyond.
+
+   Night and day have made an everlasting bond
+   Each with each to hide in yet more deep disguises
+   Truth, till souls of men that thirst for truth despond.
+
+   All that man in pride of spirit slights or prizes,
+   All the dreams that make him fearful, fain, or fond,
+   Fade at forethought’s touch of life’s unknown surprises
+      Far beyond.
+
+
+
+
+A DEAD FRIEND.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   GONE, O gentle heart and true,
+      Friend of hopes foregone,
+   Hopes and hopeful days with you
+      Gone?
+
+      Days of old that shone
+   Saw what none shall see anew,
+      When we gazed thereon.
+
+   Soul as clear as sunlit dew,
+      Why so soon pass on,
+   Forth from all we loved and knew
+      Gone?
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Friend of many a season fled,
+      What may sorrow send
+   Toward thee now from lips that said
+      ‘Friend’?
+
+      Sighs and songs to blend
+   Praise with pain uncomforted
+      Though the praise ascend?
+
+   Darkness hides no dearer head:
+      Why should darkness end
+   Day so soon, O dear and dead
+      Friend?
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Dear in death, thou hast thy part
+      Yet in life, to cheer
+   Hearts that held thy gentle heart
+      Dear.
+
+      Time and chance may sear
+   Hope with grief, and death may part
+      Hand from hand’s clasp here:
+
+   Memory, blind with tears that start,
+      Sees through every tear
+   All that made thee, as thou art,
+      Dear.
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+   True and tender, single-souled,
+      What should memory do
+   Weeping o’er the trust we hold
+      True?
+
+      Known and loved of few,
+   But of these, though small their fold,
+      Loved how well were you!
+
+   Change, that makes of new things old,
+      Leaves one old thing new;
+   Love which promised truth, and told
+      True.
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+   Kind as heaven, while earth’s control
+      Still had leave to bind
+   Thee, thy heart was toward man’s whole
+      Kind.
+
+      Thee no shadows blind
+   Now: the change of hours that roll
+      Leaves thy sleep behind.
+
+   Love, that hears thy death-bell toll
+      Yet, may call to mind
+   Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul
+      Kind.
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+   How should life, O friend, forget
+      Death, whose guest art thou?
+   Faith responds to love’s regret,
+      How?
+
+      Still, for us that bow
+   Sorrowing, still, though life be set,
+      Shines thy bright mild brow.
+
+   Yea, though death and thou be met,
+      Love may find thee now
+   Still, albeit we know not yet
+      How.
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+   Past as music fades, that shone
+      While its life might last;
+   As a song-bird’s shadow flown
+      Past!
+
+      Death’s reverberate blast
+   Now for music’s lord has blown
+      Whom thy love held fast.
+
+   Dead thy king, and void his throne:
+      Yet for grief at last
+   Love makes music of his own
+      Past.
+
+
+
+
+PAST DAYS.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   DEAD and gone, the days we had together,
+   Shadow-stricken all the lights that shone
+   Round them, flown as flies the blown foam’s feather,
+      Dead and gone.
+
+   Where we went, we twain, in time foregone,
+   Forth by land and sea, and cared not whether,
+   If I go again, I go alone.
+
+   Bound am I with time as with a tether;
+   Thee perchance death leads enfranchised on,
+   Far from deathlike life and changeful weather,
+      Dead and gone.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Above the sea and sea-washed town we dwelt,
+   We twain together, two brief summers, free
+   From heed of hours as light as clouds that melt
+      Above the sea.
+
+   Free from all heed of aught at all were we,
+   Save chance of change that clouds or sunbeams dealt
+   And gleam of heaven to windward or to lee.
+
+   The Norman downs with bright grey waves for belt
+   Were more for us than inland ways might be;
+   A clearer sense of nearer heaven was felt
+      Above the sea.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Cliffs and downs and headlands which the forward-hasting
+   Flight of dawn and eve empurples and embrowns,
+   Wings of wild sea-winds and stormy seasons wasting
+      Cliffs and downs,
+
+   These, or ever man was, were: the same sky frowns,
+   Laughs, and lightens, as before his soul, forecasting
+   Times to be, conceived such hopes as time discrowns.
+
+   These we loved of old: but now for me the blasting
+   Breath of death makes dull the bright small seaward towns,
+   Clothes with human change these all but everlasting
+      Cliffs and downs.
+
+
+
+
+AUTUMN AND WINTER.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   THREE months bade wane and wax the wintering moon
+   Between two dates of death, while men were fain
+   Yet of the living light that all too soon
+      Three months bade wane.
+
+   Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain,
+   Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune
+   That death smote silent when he smote again.
+
+   First went my friend, in life’s mid light of noon,
+   Who loved the lord of music: then the strain
+   Whence earth was kindled like as heaven in June
+      Three months bade wane.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   A herald soul before its master’s flying
+   Touched by some few moons first the darkling goal
+   Where shades rose up to greet the shade, espying
+      A herald soul;
+
+   Shades of dead lords of music, who control
+   Men living by the might of men undying,
+   With strength of strains that make delight of dole.
+
+   The deep dense dust on death’s dim threshold lying
+   Trembled with sense of kindling sound that stole
+   Through darkness, and the night gave ear, descrying
+      A herald soul.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   One went before, one after, but so fast
+   They seem gone hence together, from the shore
+   Whence we now gaze: yet ere the mightier passed
+      One went before;
+
+   One whose whole heart of love, being set of yore
+   On that high joy which music lends us, cast
+   Light round him forth of music’s radiant store.
+
+   Then went, while earth on winter glared aghast,
+   The mortal god he worshipped, through the door
+   Wherethrough so late, his lover to the last,
+      One went before.
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+   A star had set an hour before the sun
+   Sank from the skies wherethrough his heart’s pulse yet
+   Thrills audibly: but few took heed, or none,
+      A star had set.
+
+   All heaven rings back, sonorous with regret,
+   The deep dirge of the sunset: how should one
+   Soft star be missed in all the concourse met?
+
+   But, O sweet single heart whose work is done,
+   Whose songs are silent, how should I forget
+   That ere the sunset’s fiery goal was won
+      A star had set?
+
+
+
+
+THE DEATH OF RICHARD WAGNER.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   MOURNING on earth, as when dark hours descend,
+   Wide-winged with plagues, from heaven; when hope and mirth
+   Wane, and no lips rebuke or reprehend
+      Mourning on earth.
+
+   The soul wherein her songs of death and birth,
+   Darkness and light, were wont to sound and blend,
+   Now silent, leaves the whole world less in worth.
+
+   Winds that make moan and triumph, skies that bend,
+   Thunders, and sound of tides in gulf and firth,
+   Spake through his spirit of speech, whose death should send
+      Mourning on earth.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   The world’s great heart, whence all things strange and rare
+   Take form and sound, that each inseparate part
+   May bear its burden in all tuned thoughts that share
+      The world’s great heart—
+
+   The fountain forces, whence like steeds that start
+   Leap forth the powers of earth and fire and air,
+   Seas that revolve and rivers that depart—
+
+   Spake, and were turned to song: yea, all they were,
+   With all their works, found in his mastering art
+   Speech as of powers whose uttered word laid bare
+      The world’s great heart.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   From the depths of the sea, from the wellsprings of earth, from the
+   wastes of the midmost night,
+   From the fountains of darkness and tempest and thunder, from heights
+   where the soul would be,
+   The spell of the mage of music evoked their sense, as an unknown light
+      From the depths of the sea.
+
+   As a vision of heaven from the hollows of ocean, that none but a god
+   might see,
+   Rose out of the silence of things unknown of a presence, a form, a
+   might,
+   And we heard as a prophet that hears God’s message against him, and
+   may not flee.
+
+   Eye might not endure it, but ear and heart with a rapture of dark
+   delight,
+   With a terror and wonder whose core was joy, and a passion of thought
+   set free,
+   Felt inly the rising of doom divine as a sundawn risen to sight
+      From the depths of the sea.
+
+
+
+
+TWO PRELUDES.
+
+
+I.
+LOHENGRIN.
+
+
+   LOVE, out of the depth of things,
+   As a dewfall felt from above,
+   From the heaven whence only springs
+      Love,
+
+   Love, heard from the heights thereof,
+   The clouds and the watersprings,
+   Draws close as the clouds remove.
+
+   And the soul in it speaks and sings,
+   A swan sweet-souled as a dove,
+   An echo that only rings
+      Love.
+
+
+
+II.
+TRISTAN UND ISOLDE.
+
+
+   Fate, out of the deep sea’s gloom,
+   When a man’s heart’s pride grows great,
+   And nought seems now to foredoom
+      Fate,
+
+   Fate, laden with fears in wait,
+   Draws close through the clouds that loom,
+   Till the soul see, all too late,
+
+   More dark than a dead world’s tomb,
+   More high than the sheer dawn’s gate,
+   More deep than the wide sea’s womb,
+      Fate.
+
+
+
+
+THE LUTE AND THE LYRE.
+
+
+   DEEP desire, that pierces heart and spirit to the root,
+   Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring fire,
+   Takes exultant voice when music holds in high pursuit
+      Deep desire.
+
+   Keen as burns the passion of the rose whose buds respire,
+   Strong as grows the yearning of the blossom toward the fruit,
+   Sounds the secret half unspoken ere the deep tones tire.
+
+   Slow subsides the rapture that possessed love’s flower-soft lute,
+   Slow the palpitation of the triumph of the lyre:
+   Still the soul feels burn, a flame unslaked though these be mute,
+      Deep desire.
+
+
+
+
+PLUS INTRA.
+
+
+   SOUL within sense, immeasurable, obscure,
+   Insepulchred and deathless, through the dense
+   Deep elements may scarce be felt as pure
+      Soul within sense.
+
+   From depth and height by measurers left immense,
+   Through sound and shape and colour, comes the unsure
+   Vague utterance, fitful with supreme suspense.
+
+   All that may pass, and all that must endure,
+   Song speaks not, painting shews not: more intense
+   And keen than these, art wakes with music’s lure
+         Soul within sense.
+
+
+
+
+CHANGE.
+
+
+   BUT now life’s face beholden
+      Seemed bright as heaven’s bare brow
+   With hope of gifts withholden
+      But now.
+
+      From time’s full-flowering bough
+   Each bud spake bloom to embolden
+      Love’s heart, and seal his vow.
+
+   Joy’s eyes grew deep with olden
+      Dreams, born he wist not how;
+   Thought’s meanest garb was golden;
+      But now!
+
+
+
+
+A BABY’S DEATH.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   A LITTLE soul scarce fledged for earth
+   Takes wing with heaven again for goal
+   Even while we hailed as fresh from birth
+      A little soul.
+
+   Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,
+   Not knowing beyond this blind world’s girth
+   What things are writ in heaven’s full scroll.
+
+   Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,
+   And all things held in time’s control
+   Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth
+      A little soul.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   The little feet that never trod
+   Earth, never strayed in field or street,
+   What hand leads upward back to God
+      The little feet?
+
+   A rose in June’s most honied heat,
+   When life makes keen the kindling sod,
+   Was not so soft and warm and sweet.
+
+   Their pilgrimage’s period
+   A few swift moons have seen complete
+   Since mother’s hands first clasped and shod
+      The little feet.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   The little hands that never sought
+   Earth’s prizes, worthless all as sands,
+   What gift has death, God’s servant, brought
+      The little hands?
+
+   We ask: but love’s self silent stands,
+   Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought
+   To search where death’s dim heaven expands.
+
+   Ere this, perchance, though love know nought,
+   Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands,
+   Where hands of guiding angels caught
+      The little hands.
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+   The little eyes that never knew
+   Light other than of dawning skies,
+   What new life now lights up anew
+      The little eyes?
+
+   Who knows but on their sleep may rise
+   Such light as never heaven let through
+   To lighten earth from Paradise?
+
+   No storm, we know, may change the blue
+   Soft heaven that haply death descries
+   No tears, like these in ours, bedew
+      The little eyes.
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+   Was life so strange, so sad the sky,
+      So strait the wide world’s range,
+   He would not stay to wonder why
+      Was life so strange?
+
+   Was earth’s fair house a joyless grange
+      Beside that house on high
+   Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange?
+
+   That here at once his soul put by
+      All gifts of time and change,
+   And left us heavier hearts to sigh
+      ‘Was life so strange?’
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+   Angel by name love called him, seeing so fair
+      The sweet small frame;
+   Meet to be called, if ever man’s child were,
+      Angel by name.
+
+   Rose-bright and warm from heaven’s own heart he came,
+      And might not bear
+   The cloud that covers earth’s wan face with shame.
+
+   His little light of life was all too rare
+      And soft a flame:
+   Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there
+      Angel by name.
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+   The song that smiled upon his birthday here
+   Weeps on the grave that holds him undefiled
+   Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear
+      The song that smiled.
+
+   His name crowned once the mightiest ever styled
+   Sovereign of arts, and angel: fate and fear
+   Knew then their master, and were reconciled.
+
+   But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere
+   Michael, an angel and a little child,
+   Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier
+      The song that smiled.
+
+
+
+
+ONE OF TWAIN.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   ONE of twain, twin-born with flowers that waken,
+   Now hath passed from sense of sun and rain:
+   Wind from off the flower-crowned branch hath shaken
+      One of twain.
+
+   One twin flower must pass, and one remain:
+   One, the word said soothly, shall be taken,
+   And another left: can death refrain?
+
+   Two years since was love’s light song mistaken,
+   Blessing then both blossoms, half in vain?
+   Night outspeeding light hath overtaken
+      One of twain.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Night and light?  O thou of heart unwary,
+   Love, what knowest thou here at all aright,
+   Lured, abused, misled as men by fairy
+      Night and light?
+
+   Haply, where thine eyes behold but night,
+   Soft as o’er her babe the smile of Mary
+   Light breaks flowerwise into new-born sight.
+
+   What though night of light to thee be chary?
+   What though stars of hope like flowers take flight?
+   Seest thou all things here, where all see vary
+      Night and light?
+
+
+
+
+DEATH AND BIRTH.
+
+
+   DEATH and birth should dwell not near together:
+   Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth:
+   Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether
+      Death and birth.
+
+   Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth
+   Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether
+   Death be best, who knows, or life on earth?
+
+   Ill the rose-red and the sable feather
+   Blend in one crown’s plume, as grief with mirth:
+   Ill met still are warm and wintry weather,
+      Death and birth.
+
+
+
+
+BIRTH AND DEATH.
+
+
+   BIRTH and death, twin-sister and twin-brother,
+   Night and day, on all things that draw breath,
+   Reign, while time keeps friends with one another
+      Birth and death.
+
+   Each brow-bound with flowers diverse of wreath,
+   Heaven they hail as father, earth as mother,
+   Faithful found above them and beneath.
+
+   Smiles may lighten tears, and tears may smother
+   Smiles, for all that joy or sorrow saith:
+   Joy nor sorrow knows not from each other
+      Birth and death.
+
+
+
+
+BENEDICTION.
+
+
+   BLEST in death and life beyond man’s guessing
+   Little children live and die, possest
+   Still of grace that keeps them past expressing
+      Blest.
+
+   Each least chirp that rings from every nest,
+   Each least touch of flower-soft fingers pressing
+   Aught that yearns and trembles to be prest,
+
+   Each least glance, gives gifts of grace, redressing
+   Grief’s worst wrongs: each mother’s nurturing breast
+   Feeds a flower of bliss, beyond all blessing
+      Blest.
+
+
+
+
+ÉTUDE RÉALISTE.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   A BABY’S feet, like sea-shells pink,
+      Might tempt, should heaven see meet,
+   An angel’s lips to kiss, we think,
+      A baby’s feet.
+
+   Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat
+      They stretch and spread and wink
+   Their ten soft buds that part and meet.
+
+   No flower-bells that expand and shrink
+      Gleam half so heavenly sweet
+   As shine on life’s untrodden brink
+      A baby’s feet.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   A baby’s hands, like rosebuds furled
+      Whence yet no leaf expands,
+   Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,
+      A baby’s hands.
+
+   Then, fast as warriors grip their brands
+      When battle’s bolt is hurled,
+   They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.
+
+   No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
+      Match, even in loveliest lands,
+   The sweetest flowers in all the world—
+      A baby’s hands.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   A baby’s eyes, ere speech begin,
+      Ere lips learn words or sighs,
+   Bless all things bright enough to win
+      A baby’s eyes.
+
+   Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies,
+      And sleep flows out and in,
+   Sees perfect in them Paradise.
+
+   Their glance might cast out pain and sin,
+      Their speech make dumb the wise,
+   By mute glad godhead felt within
+      A baby’s eyes.
+
+
+
+
+BABYHOOD.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   A BABY shines as bright
+   If winter or if May be
+   On eyes that keep in sight
+      A baby.
+
+   Though dark the skies or grey be,
+   It fills our eyes with light,
+   If midnight or midday be.
+
+   Love hails it, day and night,
+   The sweetest thing that may be
+   Yet cannot praise aright
+      A baby.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   All heaven, in every baby born,
+   All absolute of earthly leaven,
+   Reveals itself, though man may scorn
+      All heaven.
+
+   Yet man might feel all sin forgiven,
+   All grief appeased, all pain outworn,
+   By this one revelation given.
+
+   Soul, now forget thy burdens borne:
+   Heart, be thy joys now seven times seven:
+   Love shows in light more bright than morn
+      All heaven.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   What likeness may define, and stray not
+      From truth’s exactest way,
+   A baby’s beauty?  Love can say not
+      What likeness may.
+
+   The Mayflower loveliest held in May
+      Of all that shine and stay not
+   Laughs not in rosier disarray.
+
+   Sleek satin, swansdown, buds that play not
+      As yet with winds that play,
+   Would fain be matched with this, and may not:
+      What likeness may?
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+   Rose, round whose bed
+   Dawn’s cloudlets close,
+   Earth’s brightest-bred
+      Rose!
+
+   No song, love knows,
+   May praise the head
+   Your curtain shows.
+
+   Ere sleep has fled,
+   The whole child glows
+   One sweet live red
+      Rose.
+
+
+
+
+FIRST FOOTSTEPS.
+
+
+   A LITTLE way, more soft and sweet
+      Than fields aflower with May,
+   A babe’s feet, venturing, scarce complete
+      A little way.
+
+      Eyes full of dawning day
+   Look up for mother’s eyes to meet,
+      Too blithe for song to say.
+
+   Glad as the golden spring to greet
+      Its first live leaflet’s play,
+   Love, laughing, leads the little feet
+      A little way.
+
+
+
+
+A NINTH BIRTHDAY.
+FEBRUARY 4, 1883.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   THREE times thrice hath winter’s rough white wing
+   Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice
+   Since his birth whose praises love would sing
+      Three times thrice.
+
+   Earth nor sea bears flower nor pearl of price
+   Fit to crown the forehead of my king,
+   Honey meet to please him, balm, nor spice.
+
+   Love can think of nought but love to bring
+   Fit to serve or do him sacrifice
+   Ere his eyes have looked upon the spring
+      Three times thrice.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Three times thrice the world has fallen on slumber,
+   Shone and waned and withered in a trice,
+   Frost has fettered Thames and Tyne and Humber
+      Three times thrice,
+
+   Fogs have swoln too thick for steel to slice,
+   Cloud and mud have soiled with grime and umber
+   Earth and heaven, defaced as souls with vice,
+
+   Winds have risen to wreck, snows fallen to cumber,
+   Ships and chariots, trapped like rats or mice,
+   Since my king first smiled, whose years now number
+      Three times thrice.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Three times thrice, in wine of song full-flowing,
+   Pledge, my heart, the child whose eyes suffice,
+   Once beheld, to set thy joy-bells going
+      Three times thrice.
+
+   Not the lands of palm and date and rice
+   Glow more bright when summer leaves them glowing,
+   Laugh more light when suns and winds entice.
+
+   Noon and eve and midnight and cock-crowing,
+   Child whose love makes life as paradise,
+   Love should sound your praise with clarions blowing
+      Three times thrice.
+
+
+
+
+NOT A CHILD.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   ‘NOT a child: I call myself a boy,’
+   Says my king, with accent stern yet mild,
+   Now nine years have brought him change of joy;
+      ‘Not a child.’
+
+   How could reason be so far beguiled,
+   Err so far from sense’s safe employ,
+   Stray so wide of truth, or run so wild?
+
+   Seeing his face bent over book or toy,
+   Child I called him, smiling: but he smiled
+   Back, as one too high for vain annoy—
+      Not a child.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Not a child? alack the year!
+   What should ail an undefiled
+   Heart, that he would fain appear
+      Not a child?
+
+   Men, with years and memories piled
+   Each on other, far and near,
+   Fain again would so be styled:
+
+   Fain would cast off hope and fear,
+   Rest, forget, be reconciled:
+   Why would you so fain be, dear,
+      Not a child?
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Child or boy, my darling, which you will,
+   Still your praise finds heart and song employ,
+   Heart and song both yearning toward you still,
+      Child or boy.
+
+   All joys else might sooner pall or cloy
+   Love than this which inly takes its fill,
+   Dear, of sight of your more perfect joy.
+
+   Nay, be aught you please, let all fulfil
+   All your pleasure; be your world your toy:
+   Mild or wild we love you, loud or still,
+      Child or boy.
+
+
+
+
+TO DORA DORIAN.
+
+
+   CHILD of two strong nations, heir
+   Born of high-souled hope that smiled,
+   Seeing for each brought forth a fair
+      Child,
+
+   By thy gracious brows, and wild
+   Golden-clouded heaven of hair,
+   By thine eyes elate and mild,
+
+   Hope would fain take heart to swear
+   Men should yet be reconciled,
+   Seeing the sign she bids thee bear,
+      Child.
+
+
+
+
+THE ROUNDEL.
+
+
+   A ROUNDEL is wrought as a ring or a starbright sphere,
+   With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought,
+   That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear
+      A roundel is wrought.
+
+   Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught—
+   Love, laughter, or mourning—remembrance of rapture or fear—
+   That fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought.
+
+   As a bird’s quick song runs round, and the hearts in us hear
+   Pause answer to pause, and again the same strain caught,
+   So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear,
+      A roundel is wrought.
+
+
+
+
+AT SEA.
+
+
+   ‘FAREWELL and adieu’ was the burden prevailing
+   Long since in the chant of a home-faring crew;
+   And the heart in us echoes, with laughing or wailing,
+      Farewell and adieu.
+
+   Each year that we live shall we sing it anew,
+   With a water untravelled before us for sailing
+   And a water behind us that wrecks may bestrew.
+
+   The stars of the past and the beacons are paling,
+   The heavens and the waters are hoarier of hue:
+   But the heart in us chants not an all unavailing
+      Farewell and adieu.
+
+
+
+
+WASTED LOVE.
+
+
+   WHAT shall be done for sorrow
+      With love whose race is run?
+   Where help is none to borrow,
+      What shall be done?
+
+   In vain his hands have spun
+      The web, or drawn the furrow:
+   No rest their toil hath won.
+
+   His task is all gone thorough,
+      And fruit thereof is none:
+   And who dare say to-morrow
+      What shall be done?
+
+
+
+
+BEFORE SUNSET.
+
+
+   LOVE’S twilight wanes in heaven above,
+      On earth ere twilight reigns:
+   Ere fear may feel the chill thereof,
+      Love’s twilight wanes.
+
+   Ere yet the insatiate heart complains
+      ‘Too much, and scarce enough,’
+   The lip so late athirst refrains.
+
+   Soft on the neck of either dove
+      Love’s hands let slip the reins:
+   And while we look for light of love
+      Love’s twilight wanes.
+
+
+
+
+A SINGING LESSON.
+
+
+   FAR-FETCHED and dear-bought, as the proverb rehearses,
+   Is good, or was held so, for ladies: but nought
+   In a song can be good if the turn of the verse is
+      Far-fetched and dear-bought.
+
+   As the turn of a wave should it sound, and the thought
+   Ring smooth, and as light as the spray that disperses
+   Be the gleam of the words for the garb thereof wrought.
+
+   Let the soul in it shine through the sound as it pierces
+   Men’s hearts with possession of music unsought;
+   For the bounties of song are no jealous god’s mercies,
+      Far-fetched and dear-bought.
+
+
+
+
+FLOWER-PIECES.
+
+
+I.
+LOVE LIES BLEEDING.
+
+
+   LOVE lies bleeding in the bed whereover
+   Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading:
+   Earth lies laughing where the sun’s dart clove her:
+      Love lies bleeding.
+
+   Stately shine his purple plumes, exceeding
+   Pride of princes: nor shall maid or lover
+   Find on earth a fairer sign worth heeding.
+
+   Yet may love, sore wounded scarce recover
+   Strength and spirit again, with life receding:
+   Hope and joy, wind-winged, about him hover:
+      Love lies bleeding.
+
+
+
+II.
+LOVE IN A MIST.
+
+
+   Light love in a mist, by the midsummer moon misguided,
+   Scarce seen in the twilight garden if gloom insist,
+   Seems vainly to seek for a star whose gleam has derided
+      Light love in a mist.
+
+   All day in the sun, when the breezes do all they list,
+   His soft blue raiment of cloudlike blossom abided
+   Unrent and unwithered of winds and of rays that kissed.
+
+   Blithe-hearted or sad, as the cloud or the sun subsided,
+   Love smiled in the flower with a meaning whereof none wist
+   Save two that beheld, as a gleam that before them glided,
+      Light love in a mist.
+
+
+
+
+THREE FACES.
+
+
+I.
+VENTIMIGLIA.
+
+
+   THE sky and sea glared hard and bright and blank:
+   Down the one steep street, with slow steps firm and free,
+   A tall girl paced, with eyes too proud to thank
+      The sky and sea.
+
+   One dead flat sapphire, void of wrath or glee,
+   Through bay on bay shone blind from bank to bank
+   The weary Mediterranean, drear to see.
+
+   More deep, more living, shone her eyes that drank
+   The breathless light and shed again on me,
+   Till pale before their splendour waned and shrank
+      The sky and sea.
+
+
+
+II.
+GENOA.
+
+
+   Again the same strange might of eyes, that saw
+   In heaven and earth nought fairer, overcame
+   My sight with rapture of reiterate awe,
+      Again the same.
+
+   The self-same pulse of wonder shook like flame
+   The spirit of sense within me: what strange law
+   Had bid this be, for blessing or for blame?
+
+   To what veiled end that fate or chance foresaw
+   Came forth this second sister face, that came
+   Absolute, perfect, fair without a flaw,
+      Again the same?
+
+
+
+III.
+VENICE.
+
+
+   Out of the dark pure twilight, where the stream
+   Flows glimmering, streaked by many a birdlike bark
+   That skims the gloom whence towers and bridges gleam
+      Out of the dark,
+
+   Once more a face no glance might choose but mark
+   Shone pale and bright, with eyes whose deep slow beam
+   Made quick the twilight, lifeless else and stark.
+
+   The same it seemed, or mystery made it seem,
+   As those before beholden; but St. Mark
+   Ruled here the ways that showed it like a dream
+      Out of the dark.
+
+
+
+
+EROS.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   EROS, from rest in isles far-famed,
+   With rising Anthesterion rose,
+   And all Hellenic heights acclaimed
+      Eros.
+
+   The sea one pearl, the shore one rose,
+   All round him all the flower-month flamed
+   And lightened, laughing off repose.
+
+   Earth’s heart, sublime and unashamed,
+   Knew, even perchance as man’s heart knows,
+   The thirst of all men’s nature named
+      Eros.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Eros, a fire of heart untamed,
+   A light of spirit in sense that glows,
+   Flamed heavenward still ere earth defamed
+      Eros.
+
+   Nor fear nor shame durst curb or close
+   His golden godhead, marred and maimed,
+   Fast round with bonds that burnt and froze.
+
+   Ere evil faith struck blind and lamed
+   Love, pure as fire or flowers or snows,
+   Earth hailed as blameless and unblamed
+      Eros.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Eros, with shafts by thousands aimed
+   At laughing lovers round in rows,
+   Fades from their sight whose tongues proclaimed
+      Eros.
+
+   But higher than transient shapes or shows
+   The light of love in life inflamed
+   Springs, toward no goal that these disclose.
+
+   Above those heavens which passion claimed
+   Shines, veiled by change that ebbs and flows,
+   The soul in all things born or framed,
+      Eros.
+
+
+
+
+SORROW.
+
+
+   SORROW, on wing through the world for ever,
+   Here and there for awhile would borrow
+   Rest, if rest might haply deliver
+      Sorrow.
+
+   One thought lies close in her heart gnawn thorough
+   With pain, a weed in a dried-up river,
+   A rust-red share in an empty furrow.
+
+   Hearts that strain at her chain would sever
+   The link where yesterday frets to-morrow:
+   All things pass in the world, but never
+      Sorrow.
+
+
+
+
+SLEEP.
+
+
+   SLEEP, when a soul that her own clouds cover
+   Wails that sorrow should always keep
+   Watch, nor see in the gloom above her
+      Sleep,
+
+   Down, through darkness naked and steep,
+   Sinks, and the gifts of his grace recover
+   Soon the soul, though her wound be deep.
+
+   God beloved of us, all men’s lover,
+   All most weary that smile or weep
+   Feel thee afar or anear them hover,
+      Sleep.
+
+
+
+
+ON AN OLD ROUNDEL
+
+
+        _TRANSLATED BY D. C. ROSSETTI FROM THE FRENCH OF VILLON_.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   DEATH, from thy rigour a voice appealed,
+   And men still hear what the sweet cry saith,
+   Crying aloud in thine ears fast sealed,
+      Death.
+
+   As a voice in a vision that vanisheth,
+   Through the grave’s gate barred and the portal steeled
+   The sound of the wail of it travelleth.
+
+   Wailing aloud from a heart unhealed,
+   It woke response of melodious breath
+   From lips now too by thy kiss congealed,
+      Death.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   Ages ago, from the lips of a sad glad poet
+   Whose soul was a wild dove lost in the whirling snow,
+   The soft keen plaint of his pain took voice to show it
+      Ages ago.
+
+   So clear, so deep, the divine drear accents flow,
+   No soul that listens may choose but thrill to know it,
+   Pierced and wrung by the passionate music’s throe.
+
+   For us there murmurs a nearer voice below it,
+   Known once of ears that never again shall know,
+   Now mute as the mouth which felt death’s wave o’erflow it
+      Ages ago.
+
+
+
+
+A LANDSCAPE BY COURBET.
+
+
+   LOW lies the mere beneath the moorside, still
+   And glad of silence: down the wood sweeps clear
+   To the utmost verge where fed with many a rill
+      Low lies the mere.
+
+   The wind speaks only summer: eye nor ear
+   Sees aught at all of dark, hears aught of shrill,
+   From sound or shadow felt or fancied here.
+
+   Strange, as we praise the dead man’s might and skill,
+   Strange that harsh thoughts should make such heavy cheer,
+   While, clothed with peace by heaven’s most gentle will,
+      Low lies the mere.
+
+
+
+
+A FLOWER-PIECE BY FANTIN.
+
+
+   HEART’S ease or pansy, pleasure or thought,
+   Which would the picture give us of these?
+   Surely the heart that conceived it sought
+      Heart’s ease.
+
+   Surely by glad and divine degrees
+   The heart impelling the hand that wrought
+   Wrought comfort here for a soul’s disease.
+
+   Deep flowers, with lustre and darkness fraught,
+   From glass that gleams as the chill still seas
+   Lean and lend for a heart distraught
+      Heart’s ease.
+
+
+
+
+A NIGHT-PIECE BY MILLET.
+
+
+   WIND and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking
+   Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free
+   Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking
+      Wind and sea.
+
+   Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee,
+   Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud’s o’ertaking
+   Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee.
+
+   One blown sail beneath her, hardly making
+   Forth, wild-winged for harbourage yet to be,
+   Strives and leaps and pants beneath the breaking
+      Wind and sea.
+
+
+
+
+‘MARZO PAZZO.’
+
+
+   MAD March, with the wind in his wings wide-spread,
+   Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn’s arch
+   Hails re-risen again from the dead
+      Mad March.
+
+   Soft small flames on rowan and larch
+   Break forth as laughter on lips that said
+   Nought till the pulse in them beat love’s march.
+
+   But the heartbeat now in the lips rose-red
+   Speaks life to the world, and the winds that parch
+   Bring April forth as a bride to wed
+      Mad March.
+
+
+
+
+DEAD LOVE.
+
+
+   DEAD love, by treason slain, lies stark,
+   White as a dead stark-stricken dove:
+   None that pass by him pause to mark
+      Dead love.
+
+   His heart, that strained and yearned and strove
+   As toward the sundawn strives the lark,
+   Is cold as all the old joy thereof.
+
+   Dead men, re-risen from dust, may hark
+   When rings the trumpet blown above:
+   It will not raise from out the dark
+      Dead love.
+
+
+
+
+DISCORD.
+
+
+   UNRECONCILED by life’s fleet years, that fled
+   With changeful clang of pinions wide and wild,
+   Though two great spirits had lived, and hence had sped
+      Unreconciled;
+
+   Though time and change, harsh time’s imperious child,
+   That wed strange hands together, might not wed
+   High hearts by hope’s misprision once beguiled;
+
+   Faith, by the light from either’s memory shed,
+   Sees, radiant as their ends were undefiled,
+   One goal for each—not twain among the dead
+      Unreconciled.
+
+
+
+
+CONCORD.
+
+
+   RECONCILED by death’s mild hand, that giving
+   Peace gives wisdom, not more strong than mild,
+   Love beholds them, each without misgiving
+      Reconciled.
+
+   Each on earth alike of earth reviled,
+   Hated, feared, derided, and forgiving,
+   Each alike had heaven at heart, and smiled.
+
+   Both bright names, clothed round with man’s thanksgiving,
+   Shine, twin stars above the storm-drifts piled,
+   Dead and deathless, whom we saw not living
+      Reconciled.
+
+
+
+
+MOURNING.
+
+
+   ALAS my brother! the cry of the mourners of old
+      That cried on each other,
+   All crying aloud on the dead as the death-note rolled,
+      Alas my brother!
+
+   As flashes of dawn that mists from an east wind smother
+      With fold upon fold,
+   The past years gleam that linked us one with another.
+
+   Time sunders hearts as of brethren whose eyes behold
+      No more their mother:
+   But a cry sounds yet from the shrine whose fires wax cold,
+      Alas my brother!
+
+
+
+
+APEROTOS EROS.
+
+
+   STRONG as death, and cruel as the grave,
+   Clothed with cloud and tempest’s blackening breath,
+   Known of death’s dread self, whom none outbrave,
+      Strong as death,
+
+   Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath,
+   Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave,
+   Burns above a world that groans beneath.
+
+   Hath not pity power on thee to save,
+   Love? hath power no pity?  Nought he saith,
+   Answering: blind he walks as wind or wave,
+      Strong as death.
+
+
+
+
+TO CATULLUS.
+
+
+   MY brother, my Valerius, dearest head
+   Of all whose crowning bay-leaves crown their mother
+   Rome, in the notes first heard of thine I read
+      My brother.
+
+   No dust that death or time can strew may smother
+   Love and the sense of kinship inly bred
+   From loves and hates at one with one another.
+
+   To thee was Cæsar’s self nor dear nor dread,
+   Song and the sea were sweeter each than other:
+   How should I living fear to call thee dead
+      My brother?
+
+
+
+
+‘INSULARUM OCELLE.’
+
+
+   SARK, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover,
+   Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark
+   As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown clouds hover,
+      Sark.
+
+   We mourn, for love of a song that outsang the lark,
+   That nought so lovely beholden of Sirmio’s lover
+   Made glad in Propontis the flight of his Pontic bark.
+
+   Here earth lies lordly, triumphal as heaven is above her,
+   And splendid and strange as the sea that upbears as an ark,
+   As a sign for the rapture of storm-spent eyes to discover,
+      Sark.
+
+
+
+
+IN SARK.
+
+
+   ABREAST and ahead of the sea is a crag’s front cloven asunder
+   With strong sea-breach and with wasting of winds whence terror is shed
+   As a shadow of death from the wings of the darkness on waters that
+   thunder
+      Abreast and ahead.
+
+   At its edge is a sepulchre hollowed and hewn for a lone man’s bed,
+   Propped open with rock and agape on the sky and the sea thereunder,
+   But roofed and walled in well from the wrath of them slept its dead.
+
+   Here might not a man drink rapture of rest, or delight above wonder,
+   Beholding, a soul disembodied, the days and the nights that fled,
+   With splendour and sound of the tempest around and above him and
+   under,
+      Abreast and ahead?
+
+
+
+
+IN GUERNSEY.
+
+
+                            TO THEODORE WATTS.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+   THE heavenly bay, ringed round with cliffs and moors,
+   Storm-stained ravines, and crags that lawns inlay,
+   Soothes as with love the rocks whose guard secures
+      The heavenly bay.
+
+   O friend, shall time take ever this away,
+   This blessing given of beauty that endures,
+   This glory shown us, not to pass but stay?
+
+   Though sight be changed for memory, love ensures
+   What memory, changed by love to sight, would say—
+   The word that seals for ever mine and yours
+      The heavenly bay.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+   My mother sea, my fostress, what new strand,
+   What new delight of waters, may this be,
+   The fairest found since time’s first breezes fanned
+      My mother sea?
+
+   Once more I give me body and soul to thee,
+   Who hast my soul for ever: cliff and sand
+   Recede, and heart to heart once more are we.
+
+   My heart springs first and plunges, ere my hand
+   Strike out from shore: more close it brings to me,
+   More near and dear than seems my fatherland,
+      My mother sea.
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+   Across and along, as the bay’s breadth opens, and o’er us
+   Wild autumn exults in the wind, swift rapture and strong
+   Impels us, and broader the wide waves brighten before us
+      Across and along.
+
+   The whole world’s heart is uplifted, and knows not wrong;
+   The whole world’s life is a chant to the sea-tide’s chorus;
+   Are we not as waves of the water, as notes of the song?
+
+   Like children unworn of the passions and toils that wore us,
+   We breast for a season the breadth of the seas that throng,
+   Rejoicing as they, to be borne as of old they bore us
+      Across and along.
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+   On Dante’s track by some funereal spell
+   Drawn down through desperate ways that lead not back
+   We seem to move, bound forth past flood and fell
+      On Dante’s track.
+
+   The grey path ends: the gaunt rocks gape: the black
+   Deep hollow tortuous night, a soundless shell,
+   Glares darkness: are the fires of old grown slack?
+
+   Nay, then, what flames are these that leap and swell
+   As ’twere to show, where earth’s foundations crack,
+   The secrets of the sepulchres of hell
+      On Dante’s track?
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+   By mere men’s hands the flame was lit, we know,
+   From heaps of dry waste whin and casual brands:
+   Yet, knowing, we scarce believe it kindled so
+      By mere men’s hands.
+
+   Above, around, high-vaulted hell expands,
+   Steep, dense, a labyrinth walled and roofed with woe,
+   Whose mysteries even itself not understands.
+
+   The scorn in Farinata’s eyes aglow
+   Seems visible in this flame: there Geryon stands:
+   No stage of earth’s is here, set forth to show
+      By mere men’s hands.
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+   Night, in utmost noon forlorn and strong, with heart athirst and
+   fasting,
+   Hungers here, barred up for ever, whence as one whom dreams affright
+   Day recoils before the low-browed lintel threatening doom and casting
+      Night.
+
+   All the reefs and islands, all the lawns and highlands, clothed with
+   light,
+   Laugh for love’s sake in their sleep outside: but here the night
+   speaks, blasting
+   Day with silent speech and scorn of all things known from depth to
+   height.
+
+   Lower than dive the thoughts of spirit-stricken fear in souls
+   forecasting
+   Hell, the deep void seems to yawn beyond fear’s reach, and higher than
+   sight
+   Rise the walls and roofs that compass it about with everlasting
+      Night.
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+   The house accurst, with cursing sealed and signed,
+   Heeds not what storms about it burn and burst:
+   No fear more fearful than its own may find
+      The house accurst.
+
+   Barren as crime, anhungered and athirst,
+   Blank miles of moor sweep inland, sere and blind,
+   Where summer’s best rebukes not winter’s worst.
+
+   The low bleak tower with nought save wastes behind
+   Stares down the abyss whereon chance reared and nursed
+   This type and likeness of the accurst man’s mind,
+      The house accurst.
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+   Beloved and blest, lit warm with love and fame,
+   The house that had the light of the earth for guest
+   Hears for his name’s sake all men hail its name
+      Beloved and blest.
+
+   This eyrie was the homeless eagle’s nest
+   When storm laid waste his eyrie: hence he came
+   Again, when storm smote sore his mother’s breast.
+
+   Bow down men bade us, or be clothed with blame
+   And mocked for madness: worst, they sware, was best:
+   But grief shone here, while joy was one with shame,
+      Beloved and blest.
+
+
+
+
+ENVOI.
+
+
+   FLY, white butterflies, out to sea,
+   Frail pale wings for the winds to try,
+   Small white wings that we scarce can see
+      Fly.
+
+   Here and there may a chance-caught eye
+   Note in a score of you twain or three
+   Brighter or darker of tinge or dye.
+
+   Some fly light as a laugh of glee,
+   Some fly soft as a low long sigh:
+   All to the haven where each would be
+      Fly.
+
+
+
+
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+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" />
+<title>A Century of Roundels, by Algernon Charles Swinburne</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Century of Roundels, by Algernon Charles
+Swinburne
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world 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.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: A Century of Roundels
+
+
+Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne
+
+
+
+Release Date: August 16, 2014  [eBook #3697]
+[This file was first posted on 24 July 2001]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS***
+</pre>
+<p>Transcribed from the 1883 Chatto &amp; Windus edition by David
+Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p>
+<h1>A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS</h1>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br
+/>
+ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">
+<a href="images/tpb.jpg">
+<img alt=
+"Decorative graphic"
+title=
+"Decorative graphic"
+src="images/tps.jpg" />
+</a></p>
+<p style="text-align: center"><i>SECOND EDITION</i></p>
+<p style="text-align: center">London<br />
+CHATTO &amp; WINDUS, PICCADILLY<br />
+1883</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><a name="pageiv"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. iv</span><span class="GutSmall">LONDON:
+PRINTED BY</span><br />
+<span class="GutSmall">SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET
+SQUARE</span><br />
+<span class="GutSmall">AND PARLIAMENT STREET</span></p>
+
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<h2><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+v</span>DEDICATION<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">TO</span><br />
+CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Songs</span> light as these
+may sound, though deep and strong<br />
+The heart spake through them, scarce should hope to please<br />
+Ears tuned to strains of loftier thoughts than throng<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Songs light as these.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Yet grace may set their sometime doubt at
+ease,<br />
+Nor need their too rash reverence fear to wrong<br />
+The shrine it serves at and the hope it sees.</p>
+<p class="poetry">For childlike loves and laughters thence
+prolong<br />
+Notes that bid enter, fearless as the breeze,<br />
+Even to the shrine of holiest-hearted song,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Songs light as these.</p>
+<h2><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+vii</span>CONTENTS.</h2>
+<table>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right">&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">I.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>In Harbour</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page1">1</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">II.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page2">2</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">III.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>The Way of the Wind</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page3">3</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">IV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Had I Wist</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page4">4</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">V.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Recollections</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page5">5</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">VI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page6">6</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">VII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page7">7</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">VIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Time and Life</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page8">8</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">IX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page9">9</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">X.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Dialogue</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page10">10</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page11">11</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page12">12</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Plus Ultra</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page13">13</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Dead Friend</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page14">14</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page15">15</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page16">16</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page17">17</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><a name="pageviii"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. viii</span><span
+class="GutSmall">XVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page18">18</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page19">19</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page20">20</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Past Days</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page21">21</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page22">22</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page23">23</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Autumn and Winter</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page24">24</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page25">25</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page26">26</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page27">27</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>The Death of Richard Wagner</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page28">28</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page29">29</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page30">30</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right">&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">Two preludes:</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right">&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lohengrin</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page31">31</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Tristan und Isolde</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page32">32</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>The Lute and the Lyre</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page33">33</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Plus Intra</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page34">34</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Change</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page35">35</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Baby&rsquo;s Death</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page36">36</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page37">37</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page38">38</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><a name="pageix"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. ix</span><span
+class="GutSmall">XXXIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page39">39</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XL.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page40">40</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page41">41</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page42">42</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>One of Twain</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page43">43</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page44">44</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Death and Birth</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page45">45</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Birth and Death</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page46">46</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Benediction</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page47">47</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&Eacute;tude R&eacute;aliste</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page48">48</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">XLIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page49">49</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">L.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page50">50</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Babyhood</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page51">51</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page52">52</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page53">53</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page54">54</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>First Footsteps</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page55">55</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Ninth Birthday</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page56">56</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page57">57</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page58">58</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Not a Child</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page59">59</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page60">60</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page61">61</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>To Dora Dorian</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page62">62</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>The Roundel</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page63">63</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>At Sea</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page64">64</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Wasted Love</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page65">65</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><a name="pagex"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. x</span><span
+class="GutSmall">LXVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Before Sunset</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page66">66</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Singing Lesson</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page67">67</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right">&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">Flower-pieces:</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right">&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Love Lies Bleeding</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page68">68</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Love in a Mist</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page69">69</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right">&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">Three faces:</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right">&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ventimiglia</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page70">70</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Genoa</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page71">71</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Venice</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page72">72</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Eros</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page73">73</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page74">74</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page75">75</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Sorrow</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page76">76</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Sleep</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page77">77</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>On an Old Roundel</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page78">78</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page79">79</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><a name="pagexi"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. xi</span><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Landscape by Courbet</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page80">80</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Flower-piece by Fantin</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page81">81</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>A Night-piece by Millet</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page82">82</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Marzo Pazzo</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page83">83</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Dead Love</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page84">84</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Discord</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page85">85</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Concord</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page86">86</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Mourning</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page87">87</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Aperotos Eros</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page88">88</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">LXXXIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>To Catullus</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page89">89</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&lsquo;Insularum Ocelle&rsquo;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page90">90</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>In Sark</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page91">91</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>In Guernsey</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page92">92</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page93">93</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXIV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page94">94</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXV.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page95">95</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXVI.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page96">96</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXVII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page97">97</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXVIII.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page98">98</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">CXIX.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: center">,,</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page99">99</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">C.</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>Envoi</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page100">100</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>IN
+HARBOUR.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Goodnight</span> and
+goodbye to the life whose signs denote us<br />
+As mourners clothed with regret for the life gone by;<br />
+To the waters of gloom whence winds of the dayspring float us<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Goodnight and goodbye.</p>
+<p class="poetry">A time is for mourning, a season for grief to
+sigh;<br />
+But were we not fools and blind, by day to devote us<br />
+As thralls to the darkness, unseen of the sundawn&rsquo;s
+eye?</p>
+<p class="poetry">We have drunken of Lethe at length, we have
+eaten of lotus;<br />
+What hurts it us here that sorrows are born and die?<br />
+We have said to the dream that caressed and the dread that smote
+us<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Goodnight and goodbye.</p>
+<h3><a name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 2</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Outside of the port ye are moored in, lying<br
+/>
+Close from the wind and at ease from the tide,<br />
+What sounds come swelling, what notes fall dying<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Outside?</p>
+<p class="poetry">They will not cease, they will not abide:<br />
+Voices of presage in darkness crying<br />
+Pass and return and relapse aside.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Ye see not, but hear ye not wild wings
+flying<br />
+To the future that wakes from the past that died?<br />
+Is grief still sleeping, is joy not sighing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Outside?</p>
+<h2><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span>THE WAY
+OF THE WIND.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">The</span> wind&rsquo;s way
+in the deep sky&rsquo;s hollow<br />
+None may measure, as none can say<br />
+How the heart in her shows the swallow<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The wind&rsquo;s way.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Hope nor fear can avail to stay<br />
+Waves that whiten on wrecks that wallow,<br />
+Times and seasons that wane and slay.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Life and love, till the strong night swallow<br
+/>
+Thought and hope and the red last ray,<br />
+Swim the waters of years that follow<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The wind&rsquo;s way.</p>
+<h2><a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+4</span>&lsquo;HAD I WIST.&rsquo;</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Had</span> I wist, when
+life was like a warm wind playing<br />
+Light and loud through sundawn and the dew&rsquo;s bright
+trust,<br />
+How the time should come for hearts to sigh in saying<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; &lsquo;Had I wist&rsquo;&mdash;</p>
+<p class="poetry">Surely not the roses, laughing as they
+kissed,<br />
+Not the lovelier laugh of seas in sunshine swaying,<br />
+Should have lured my soul to look thereon and list.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Now the wind is like a soul cast out and
+praying<br />
+Vainly, prayers that pierce not ears when hearts resist:<br />
+Now mine own soul sighs, adrift as wind and straying,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; &lsquo;Had I wist.&rsquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+5</span>RECOLLECTIONS.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Years</span> upon years, as
+a course of clouds that thicken<br />
+Thronging the ways of the wind that shifts and veers,<br />
+Pass, and the flames of remembered fires requicken<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Years upon years.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Surely the thought in a man&rsquo;s heart hopes
+or fears<br />
+Now that forgetfulness needs must here have stricken<br />
+Anguish, and sweetened the sealed-up springs of tears.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Ah, but the strength of regrets that strain and
+sicken,<br />
+Yearning for love that the veil of death endears,<br />
+Slackens not wing for the wings of years that quicken&mdash;<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Years upon years.</p>
+<h3><a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Years upon years, and the flame of love&rsquo;s
+high altar<br />
+Trembles and sinks, and the sense of listening ears<br />
+Heeds not the sound that it heard of love&rsquo;s blithe
+psalter<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Years upon years.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Only the sense of a heart that hearkens
+hears,<br />
+Louder than dreams that assail and doubts that palter,<br />
+Sorrow that slept and that wakes ere sundawn peers.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Wakes, that the heart may behold, and yet not
+falter,<br />
+Faces of children as stars unknown of, spheres<br />
+Seen but of love, that endures though all things alter,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Years upon years.</p>
+<h3><a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+7</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Years upon years, as a watch by night that
+passes,<br />
+Pass, and the light of their eyes is fire that sears<br />
+Slowly the hopes of the fruit that life amasses<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Years upon years.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Pale as the glimmer of stars on moorland
+meres<br />
+Lighten the shadows reverberate from the glasses<br />
+Held in their hands as they pass among their peers.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Lights that are shadows, as ghosts on graveyard
+grasses,<br />
+Moving on paths that the moon of memory cheers,<br />
+Shew but as mists over cloudy mountain passes<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Years upon years.</p>
+<h2><a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>TIME AND
+LIFE.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Time</span>, thy name is
+sorrow, says the stricken<br />
+Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame<br />
+Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Time, thy name.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Girt about with shadow, blind and lame,<br />
+Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken<br />
+Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Eyes of hours whose paces halt or quicken<br />
+Read in bloodred lines of loss and blame,<br />
+Writ where cloud and darkness round it thicken,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Time, thy name.</p>
+<h3><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Nay, but rest is born of me for healing,<br />
+&mdash;So might haply time, with voice represt,<br />
+Speak: is grief the last gift of my dealing?<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Nay, but rest.</p>
+<p class="poetry">All the world is wearied, east and west,<br />
+Tired with toil to watch the slow sun wheeling,<br />
+Twelve loud hours of life&rsquo;s laborious quest.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Eyes forspent with vigil, faint and reeling,<br
+/>
+Find at last my comfort, and are blest,<br />
+Not with rapturous light of life&rsquo;s revealing&mdash;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Nay, but rest.</p>
+<h2><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>A
+DIALOGUE.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Death</span>, if thou wilt,
+fain would I plead with thee:<br />
+Canst thou not spare, of all our hopes have built,<br />
+One shelter where our spirits fain would be,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death, if thou wilt?</p>
+<p class="poetry">No dome with suns and dews impearled and
+gilt,<br />
+Imperial: but some roof of wildwood tree,<br />
+Too mean for sceptre&rsquo;s heft or swordblade&rsquo;s hilt.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Some low sweet roof where love might live, set
+free<br />
+From change and fear and dreams of grief or guilt;<br />
+Canst thou not leave life even thus much to see,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death, if thou wilt?</p>
+<h3><a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+11</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Man, what art thou to speak and plead with
+me?<br />
+What knowest thou of my workings, where and how<br />
+What things I fashion?&nbsp; Nay, behold and see,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Man, what art thou?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Thy fruits of life, and blossoms of thy
+bough,<br />
+What are they but my seedlings?&nbsp; Earth and sea<br />
+Bear nought but when I breathe on it must bow.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Bow thou too down before me: though thou be<br
+/>
+Great, all the pride shall fade from off thy brow,<br />
+When Time and strong Oblivion ask of thee,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Man, what art thou?</p>
+<h3><a name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+12</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Death, if thou be or be not, as was said,<br />
+Immortal; if thou make us nought, or we<br />
+Survive: thy power is made but of our dread,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death, if thou be.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Thy might is made out of our fear of thee:<br
+/>
+Who fears thee not, hath plucked from off thine head<br />
+The crown of cloud that darkens earth and sea.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Earth, sea, and sky, as rain or vapour shed,<br
+/>
+Shall vanish; all the shows of them shall flee:<br />
+Then shall we know full surely, quick or dead,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death, if thou be.</p>
+<h2><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 13</span>PLUS
+ULTRA.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Far</span> beyond the
+sunrise and the sunset rises<br />
+Heaven, with worlds on worlds that lighten and respond:<br />
+Thought can see not thence the goal of hope&rsquo;s surmises<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Far beyond.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Night and day have made an everlasting bond<br
+/>
+Each with each to hide in yet more deep disguises<br />
+Truth, till souls of men that thirst for truth despond.</p>
+<p class="poetry">All that man in pride of spirit slights or
+prizes,<br />
+All the dreams that make him fearful, fain, or fond,<br />
+Fade at forethought&rsquo;s touch of life&rsquo;s unknown
+surprises<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Far beyond.</p>
+<h2><a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>A DEAD
+FRIEND.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Gone</span>, O gentle heart
+and true,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Friend of hopes foregone,<br />
+Hopes and hopeful days with you<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Gone?</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Days of old that shone<br />
+Saw what none shall see anew,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; When we gazed thereon.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Soul as clear as sunlit dew,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Why so soon pass on,<br />
+Forth from all we loved and knew<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Gone?</p>
+<h3><a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+15</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Friend of many a season fled,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; What may sorrow send<br />
+Toward thee now from lips that said<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; &lsquo;Friend&rsquo;?</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sighs and songs to blend<br
+/>
+Praise with pain uncomforted<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Though the praise ascend?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Darkness hides no dearer head:<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Why should darkness end<br />
+Day so soon, O dear and dead<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Friend?</p>
+<h3><a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+16</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Dear in death, thou hast thy part<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Yet in life, to cheer<br />
+Hearts that held thy gentle heart<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Dear.</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Time and chance may sear<br
+/>
+Hope with grief, and death may part<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Hand from hand&rsquo;s clasp here:</p>
+<p class="poetry">Memory, blind with tears that start,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Sees through every tear<br />
+All that made thee, as thou art,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Dear.</p>
+<h3><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+17</span>IV.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">True and tender, single-souled,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; What should memory do<br />
+Weeping o&rsquo;er the trust we hold<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; True?</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Known and loved of few,<br />
+But of these, though small their fold,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Loved how well were you!</p>
+<p class="poetry">Change, that makes of new things old,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Leaves one old thing new;<br />
+Love which promised truth, and told<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; True.</p>
+<h3><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+18</span>V.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Kind as heaven, while earth&rsquo;s control<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Still had leave to bind<br />
+Thee, thy heart was toward man&rsquo;s whole<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Kind.</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thee no shadows blind<br />
+Now: the change of hours that roll<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Leaves thy sleep behind.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Love, that hears thy death-bell toll<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Yet, may call to mind<br />
+Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Kind.</p>
+<h3><a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+19</span>VI.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">How should life, O friend, forget<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death, whose guest art thou?<br />
+Faith responds to love&rsquo;s regret,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; How?</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Still, for us that bow<br />
+Sorrowing, still, though life be set,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Shines thy bright mild brow.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Yea, though death and thou be met,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love may find thee now<br />
+Still, albeit we know not yet<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; How.</p>
+<h3><a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+20</span>VII.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Past as music fades, that shone<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; While its life might last;<br />
+As a song-bird&rsquo;s shadow flown<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Past!</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Death&rsquo;s reverberate
+blast<br />
+Now for music&rsquo;s lord has blown<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Whom thy love held fast.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Dead thy king, and void his throne:<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Yet for grief at last<br />
+Love makes music of his own<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Past.</p>
+<h2><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 21</span>PAST
+DAYS.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Dead</span> and gone, the
+days we had together,<br />
+Shadow-stricken all the lights that shone<br />
+Round them, flown as flies the blown foam&rsquo;s feather,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Dead and gone.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Where we went, we twain, in time foregone,<br
+/>
+Forth by land and sea, and cared not whether,<br />
+If I go again, I go alone.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Bound am I with time as with a tether;<br />
+Thee perchance death leads enfranchised on,<br />
+Far from deathlike life and changeful weather,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Dead and gone.</p>
+<h3><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+22</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Above the sea and sea-washed town we dwelt,<br
+/>
+We twain together, two brief summers, free<br />
+From heed of hours as light as clouds that melt<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Above the sea.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Free from all heed of aught at all were we,<br
+/>
+Save chance of change that clouds or sunbeams dealt<br />
+And gleam of heaven to windward or to lee.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The Norman downs with bright grey waves for
+belt<br />
+Were more for us than inland ways might be;<br />
+A clearer sense of nearer heaven was felt<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Above the sea.</p>
+<h3><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+23</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Cliffs and downs and headlands which the
+forward-hasting<br />
+Flight of dawn and eve empurples and embrowns,<br />
+Wings of wild sea-winds and stormy seasons wasting<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Cliffs and downs,</p>
+<p class="poetry">These, or ever man was, were: the same sky
+frowns,<br />
+Laughs, and lightens, as before his soul, forecasting<br />
+Times to be, conceived such hopes as time discrowns.</p>
+<p class="poetry">These we loved of old: but now for me the
+blasting<br />
+Breath of death makes dull the bright small seaward towns,<br />
+Clothes with human change these all but everlasting<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Cliffs and downs.</p>
+<h2><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>AUTUMN
+AND WINTER.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Three</span> months bade
+wane and wax the wintering moon<br />
+Between two dates of death, while men were fain<br />
+Yet of the living light that all too soon<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three months bade wane.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and
+rain,<br />
+Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune<br />
+That death smote silent when he smote again.</p>
+<p class="poetry">First went my friend, in life&rsquo;s mid light
+of noon,<br />
+Who loved the lord of music: then the strain<br />
+Whence earth was kindled like as heaven in June<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three months bade wane.</p>
+<h3><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+25</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">A herald soul before its master&rsquo;s
+flying<br />
+Touched by some few moons first the darkling goal<br />
+Where shades rose up to greet the shade, espying<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A herald soul;</p>
+<p class="poetry">Shades of dead lords of music, who control<br
+/>
+Men living by the might of men undying,<br />
+With strength of strains that make delight of dole.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The deep dense dust on death&rsquo;s dim
+threshold lying<br />
+Trembled with sense of kindling sound that stole<br />
+Through darkness, and the night gave ear, descrying<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A herald soul.</p>
+<h3><a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+26</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">One went before, one after, but so fast<br />
+They seem gone hence together, from the shore<br />
+Whence we now gaze: yet ere the mightier passed<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; One went before;</p>
+<p class="poetry">One whose whole heart of love, being set of
+yore<br />
+On that high joy which music lends us, cast<br />
+Light round him forth of music&rsquo;s radiant store.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Then went, while earth on winter glared
+aghast,<br />
+The mortal god he worshipped, through the door<br />
+Wherethrough so late, his lover to the last,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; One went before.</p>
+<h3><a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+27</span>IV.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">A star had set an hour before the sun<br />
+Sank from the skies wherethrough his heart&rsquo;s pulse yet<br
+/>
+Thrills audibly: but few took heed, or none,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A star had set.</p>
+<p class="poetry">All heaven rings back, sonorous with regret,<br
+/>
+The deep dirge of the sunset: how should one<br />
+Soft star be missed in all the concourse met?</p>
+<p class="poetry">But, O sweet single heart whose work is
+done,<br />
+Whose songs are silent, how should I forget<br />
+That ere the sunset&rsquo;s fiery goal was won<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A star had set?</p>
+<h2><a name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 28</span>THE
+DEATH OF RICHARD WAGNER.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Mourning</span> on earth,
+as when dark hours descend,<br />
+Wide-winged with plagues, from heaven; when hope and mirth<br />
+Wane, and no lips rebuke or reprehend<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Mourning on earth.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The soul wherein her songs of death and
+birth,<br />
+Darkness and light, were wont to sound and blend,<br />
+Now silent, leaves the whole world less in worth.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Winds that make moan and triumph, skies that
+bend,<br />
+Thunders, and sound of tides in gulf and firth,<br />
+Spake through his spirit of speech, whose death should send<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Mourning on earth.</p>
+<h3><a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+29</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">The world&rsquo;s great heart, whence all
+things strange and rare<br />
+Take form and sound, that each inseparate part<br />
+May bear its burden in all tuned thoughts that share<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The world&rsquo;s great heart&mdash;</p>
+<p class="poetry">The fountain forces, whence like steeds that
+start<br />
+Leap forth the powers of earth and fire and air,<br />
+Seas that revolve and rivers that depart&mdash;</p>
+<p class="poetry">Spake, and were turned to song: yea, all they
+were,<br />
+With all their works, found in his mastering art<br />
+Speech as of powers whose uttered word laid bare<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The world&rsquo;s great heart.</p>
+<h3><a name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+30</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">From the depths of the sea, from the
+wellsprings of earth, from the wastes of the midmost night,<br />
+From the fountains of darkness and tempest and thunder, from
+heights where the soul would be,<br />
+The spell of the mage of music evoked their sense, as an unknown
+light<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; From the depths of the sea.</p>
+<p class="poetry">As a vision of heaven from the hollows of
+ocean, that none but a god might see,<br />
+Rose out of the silence of things unknown of a presence, a form,
+a might,<br />
+And we heard as a prophet that hears God&rsquo;s message against
+him, and may not flee.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Eye might not endure it, but ear and heart with
+a rapture of dark delight,<br />
+With a terror and wonder whose core was joy, and a passion of
+thought set free,<br />
+Felt inly the rising of doom divine as a sundawn risen to
+sight<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; From the depths of the sea.</p>
+<h2><a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 31</span>TWO
+PRELUDES.</h2>
+<h3>I.<br />
+LOHENGRIN.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Love</span>, out of the
+depth of things,<br />
+As a dewfall felt from above,<br />
+From the heaven whence only springs<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Love, heard from the heights thereof,<br />
+The clouds and the watersprings,<br />
+Draws close as the clouds remove.</p>
+<p class="poetry">And the soul in it speaks and sings,<br />
+A swan sweet-souled as a dove,<br />
+An echo that only rings<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love.</p>
+<h3><a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>II.<br
+/>
+TRISTAN UND ISOLDE.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Fate, out of the deep sea&rsquo;s gloom,<br />
+When a man&rsquo;s heart&rsquo;s pride grows great,<br />
+And nought seems now to foredoom<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Fate,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Fate, laden with fears in wait,<br />
+Draws close through the clouds that loom,<br />
+Till the soul see, all too late,</p>
+<p class="poetry">More dark than a dead world&rsquo;s tomb,<br />
+More high than the sheer dawn&rsquo;s gate,<br />
+More deep than the wide sea&rsquo;s womb,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Fate.</p>
+<h2><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>THE
+LUTE AND THE LYRE.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Deep</span> desire, that
+pierces heart and spirit to the root,<br />
+Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring fire,<br
+/>
+Takes exultant voice when music holds in high pursuit<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Deep desire.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Keen as burns the passion of the rose whose
+buds respire,<br />
+Strong as grows the yearning of the blossom toward the fruit,<br
+/>
+Sounds the secret half unspoken ere the deep tones tire.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Slow subsides the rapture that possessed
+love&rsquo;s flower-soft lute,<br />
+Slow the palpitation of the triumph of the lyre:<br />
+Still the soul feels burn, a flame unslaked though these be
+mute,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Deep desire.</p>
+<h2><a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 34</span>PLUS
+INTRA.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Soul</span> within sense,
+immeasurable, obscure,<br />
+Insepulchred and deathless, through the dense<br />
+Deep elements may scarce be felt as pure<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Soul within sense.</p>
+<p class="poetry">From depth and height by measurers left
+immense,<br />
+Through sound and shape and colour, comes the unsure<br />
+Vague utterance, fitful with supreme suspense.</p>
+<p class="poetry">All that may pass, and all that must endure,<br
+/>
+Song speaks not, painting shews not: more intense<br />
+And keen than these, art wakes with music&rsquo;s lure<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Soul within sense.</p>
+<h2><a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+35</span>CHANGE.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">But</span> now life&rsquo;s
+face beholden<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Seemed bright as heaven&rsquo;s bare brow<br />
+With hope of gifts withholden<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; But now.</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;From time&rsquo;s
+full-flowering bough<br />
+Each bud spake bloom to embolden<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love&rsquo;s heart, and seal his vow.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Joy&rsquo;s eyes grew deep with olden<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Dreams, born he wist not how;<br />
+Thought&rsquo;s meanest garb was golden;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; But now!</p>
+<h2><a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>A
+BABY&rsquo;S DEATH.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">A <span class="smcap">little</span> soul scarce
+fledged for earth<br />
+Takes wing with heaven again for goal<br />
+Even while we hailed as fresh from birth<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A little soul.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,<br />
+Not knowing beyond this blind world&rsquo;s girth<br />
+What things are writ in heaven&rsquo;s full scroll.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,<br />
+And all things held in time&rsquo;s control<br />
+Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A little soul.</p>
+<h3><a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+37</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">The little feet that never trod<br />
+Earth, never strayed in field or street,<br />
+What hand leads upward back to God<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The little feet?</p>
+<p class="poetry">A rose in June&rsquo;s most honied heat,<br />
+When life makes keen the kindling sod,<br />
+Was not so soft and warm and sweet.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Their pilgrimage&rsquo;s period<br />
+A few swift moons have seen complete<br />
+Since mother&rsquo;s hands first clasped and shod<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The little feet.</p>
+<h3><a name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+38</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">The little hands that never sought<br />
+Earth&rsquo;s prizes, worthless all as sands,<br />
+What gift has death, God&rsquo;s servant, brought<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The little hands?</p>
+<p class="poetry">We ask: but love&rsquo;s self silent stands,<br
+/>
+Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought<br />
+To search where death&rsquo;s dim heaven expands.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Ere this, perchance, though love know
+nought,<br />
+Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands,<br />
+Where hands of guiding angels caught<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The little hands.</p>
+<h3><a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+39</span>IV.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">The little eyes that never knew<br />
+Light other than of dawning skies,<br />
+What new life now lights up anew<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The little eyes?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Who knows but on their sleep may rise<br />
+Such light as never heaven let through<br />
+To lighten earth from Paradise?</p>
+<p class="poetry">No storm, we know, may change the blue<br />
+Soft heaven that haply death descries<br />
+No tears, like these in ours, bedew<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The little eyes.</p>
+<h3><a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+40</span>V.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Was life so strange, so sad the sky,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; So strait the wide world&rsquo;s range,<br />
+He would not stay to wonder why<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Was life so strange?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Was earth&rsquo;s fair house a joyless
+grange<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Beside that house on high<br />
+Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange?</p>
+<p class="poetry">That here at once his soul put by<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; All gifts of time and change,<br />
+And left us heavier hearts to sigh<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; &lsquo;Was life so strange?&rsquo;</p>
+<h3><a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+41</span>VI.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Angel by name love called him, seeing so
+fair<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The sweet small frame;<br />
+Meet to be called, if ever man&rsquo;s child were,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Angel by name.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Rose-bright and warm from heaven&rsquo;s own
+heart he came,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; And might not bear<br />
+The cloud that covers earth&rsquo;s wan face with shame.</p>
+<p class="poetry">His little light of life was all too rare<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; And soft a flame:<br />
+Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Angel by name.</p>
+<h3><a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+42</span>VII.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">The song that smiled upon his birthday here<br
+/>
+Weeps on the grave that holds him undefiled<br />
+Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The song that smiled.</p>
+<p class="poetry">His name crowned once the mightiest ever
+styled<br />
+Sovereign of arts, and angel: fate and fear<br />
+Knew then their master, and were reconciled.</p>
+<p class="poetry">But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere<br
+/>
+Michael, an angel and a little child,<br />
+Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The song that smiled.</p>
+<h2><a name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span>ONE OF
+TWAIN.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">One</span> of twain,
+twin-born with flowers that waken,<br />
+Now hath passed from sense of sun and rain:<br />
+Wind from off the flower-crowned branch hath shaken<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; One of twain.</p>
+<p class="poetry">One twin flower must pass, and one remain:<br
+/>
+One, the word said soothly, shall be taken,<br />
+And another left: can death refrain?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Two years since was love&rsquo;s light song
+mistaken,<br />
+Blessing then both blossoms, half in vain?<br />
+Night outspeeding light hath overtaken<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; One of twain.</p>
+<h3><a name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+44</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Night and light?&nbsp; O thou of heart
+unwary,<br />
+Love, what knowest thou here at all aright,<br />
+Lured, abused, misled as men by fairy<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Night and light?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Haply, where thine eyes behold but night,<br />
+Soft as o&rsquo;er her babe the smile of Mary<br />
+Light breaks flowerwise into new-born sight.</p>
+<p class="poetry">What though night of light to thee be chary?<br
+/>
+What though stars of hope like flowers take flight?<br />
+Seest thou all things here, where all see vary<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Night and light?</p>
+<h2><a name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>DEATH
+AND BIRTH.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Death</span> and birth
+should dwell not near together:<br />
+Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth:<br />
+Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death and birth.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the
+girth<br />
+Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether<br />
+Death be best, who knows, or life on earth?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Ill the rose-red and the sable feather<br />
+Blend in one crown&rsquo;s plume, as grief with mirth:<br />
+Ill met still are warm and wintry weather,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death and birth.</p>
+<h2><a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>BIRTH
+AND DEATH.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Birth</span> and death,
+twin-sister and twin-brother,<br />
+Night and day, on all things that draw breath,<br />
+Reign, while time keeps friends with one another<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Birth and death.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Each brow-bound with flowers diverse of
+wreath,<br />
+Heaven they hail as father, earth as mother,<br />
+Faithful found above them and beneath.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Smiles may lighten tears, and tears may
+smother<br />
+Smiles, for all that joy or sorrow saith:<br />
+Joy nor sorrow knows not from each other<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Birth and death.</p>
+<h2><a name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+47</span>BENEDICTION.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Blest</span> in death and
+life beyond man&rsquo;s guessing<br />
+Little children live and die, possest<br />
+Still of grace that keeps them past expressing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Blest.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Each least chirp that rings from every nest,<br
+/>
+Each least touch of flower-soft fingers pressing<br />
+Aught that yearns and trembles to be prest,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Each least glance, gives gifts of grace,
+redressing<br />
+Grief&rsquo;s worst wrongs: each mother&rsquo;s nurturing
+breast<br />
+Feeds a flower of bliss, beyond all blessing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Blest.</p>
+<h2><a name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+48</span>&Eacute;TUDE R&Eacute;ALISTE.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">A <span class="smcap">Baby&rsquo;s</span> feet,
+like sea-shells pink,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Might tempt, should heaven see meet,<br />
+An angel&rsquo;s lips to kiss, we think,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby&rsquo;s feet.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; They stretch and spread and wink<br />
+Their ten soft buds that part and meet.</p>
+<p class="poetry">No flower-bells that expand and shrink<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Gleam half so heavenly sweet<br />
+As shine on life&rsquo;s untrodden brink<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby&rsquo;s feet.</p>
+<h3><a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+49</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">A baby&rsquo;s hands, like rosebuds furled<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Whence yet no leaf expands,<br />
+Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby&rsquo;s hands.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Then, fast as warriors grip their brands<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; When battle&rsquo;s bolt is hurled,<br />
+They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.</p>
+<p class="poetry">No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Match, even in loveliest lands,<br />
+The sweetest flowers in all the world&mdash;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby&rsquo;s hands.</p>
+<h3><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+50</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">A baby&rsquo;s eyes, ere speech begin,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Ere lips learn words or sighs,<br />
+Bless all things bright enough to win<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby&rsquo;s eyes.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies,<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; And sleep flows out and in,<br />
+Sees perfect in them Paradise.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Their glance might cast out pain and sin,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Their speech make dumb the wise,<br />
+By mute glad godhead felt within<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby&rsquo;s eyes.</p>
+<h2><a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+51</span>BABYHOOD.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">A <span class="smcap">baby</span> shines as
+bright<br />
+If winter or if May be<br />
+On eyes that keep in sight<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Though dark the skies or grey be,<br />
+It fills our eyes with light,<br />
+If midnight or midday be.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Love hails it, day and night,<br />
+The sweetest thing that may be<br />
+Yet cannot praise aright<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A baby.</p>
+<h3><a name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+52</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">All heaven, in every baby born,<br />
+All absolute of earthly leaven,<br />
+Reveals itself, though man may scorn<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; All heaven.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Yet man might feel all sin forgiven,<br />
+All grief appeased, all pain outworn,<br />
+By this one revelation given.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Soul, now forget thy burdens borne:<br />
+Heart, be thy joys now seven times seven:<br />
+Love shows in light more bright than morn<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; All heaven.</p>
+<h3><a name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+53</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">What likeness may define, and stray not<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; From truth&rsquo;s exactest way,<br />
+A baby&rsquo;s beauty?&nbsp; Love can say not<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; What likeness may.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The Mayflower loveliest held in May<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Of all that shine and stay not<br />
+Laughs not in rosier disarray.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Sleek satin, swansdown, buds that play not<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; As yet with winds that play,<br />
+Would fain be matched with this, and may not:<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; What likeness may?</p>
+<h3><a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+54</span>IV.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Rose, round whose bed<br />
+Dawn&rsquo;s cloudlets close,<br />
+Earth&rsquo;s brightest-bred<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Rose!</p>
+<p class="poetry">No song, love knows,<br />
+May praise the head<br />
+Your curtain shows.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Ere sleep has fled,<br />
+The whole child glows<br />
+One sweet live red<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Rose.</p>
+<h2><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 55</span>FIRST
+FOOTSTEPS.</h2>
+<p class="poetry">A <span class="smcap">little</span> way, more
+soft and sweet<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Than fields aflower with May,<br />
+A babe&rsquo;s feet, venturing, scarce complete<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A little way.</p>
+<p class="poetry">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Eyes full of dawning day<br
+/>
+Look up for mother&rsquo;s eyes to meet,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Too blithe for song to say.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Glad as the golden spring to greet<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Its first live leaflet&rsquo;s play,<br />
+Love, laughing, leads the little feet<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A little way.</p>
+<h2><a name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>A
+NINTH BIRTHDAY.<br />
+<span class="smcap">February</span> 4, 1883.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Three</span> times thrice
+hath winter&rsquo;s rough white wing<br />
+Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice<br />
+Since his birth whose praises love would sing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three times thrice.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Earth nor sea bears flower nor pearl of
+price<br />
+Fit to crown the forehead of my king,<br />
+Honey meet to please him, balm, nor spice.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Love can think of nought but love to bring<br
+/>
+Fit to serve or do him sacrifice<br />
+Ere his eyes have looked upon the spring<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three times thrice.</p>
+<h3><a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+57</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Three times thrice the world has fallen on
+slumber,<br />
+Shone and waned and withered in a trice,<br />
+Frost has fettered Thames and Tyne and Humber<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three times thrice,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Fogs have swoln too thick for steel to
+slice,<br />
+Cloud and mud have soiled with grime and umber<br />
+Earth and heaven, defaced as souls with vice,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Winds have risen to wreck, snows fallen to
+cumber,<br />
+Ships and chariots, trapped like rats or mice,<br />
+Since my king first smiled, whose years now number<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three times thrice.</p>
+<h3><a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+58</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Three times thrice, in wine of song
+full-flowing,<br />
+Pledge, my heart, the child whose eyes suffice,<br />
+Once beheld, to set thy joy-bells going<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three times thrice.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Not the lands of palm and date and rice<br />
+Glow more bright when summer leaves them glowing,<br />
+Laugh more light when suns and winds entice.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Noon and eve and midnight and cock-crowing,<br
+/>
+Child whose love makes life as paradise,<br />
+Love should sound your praise with clarions blowing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Three times thrice.</p>
+<h2><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 59</span>NOT A
+CHILD.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Not</span> a child:
+I call myself a boy,&rsquo;<br />
+Says my king, with accent stern yet mild,<br />
+Now nine years have brought him change of joy;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; &lsquo;Not a child.&rsquo;</p>
+<p class="poetry">How could reason be so far beguiled,<br />
+Err so far from sense&rsquo;s safe employ,<br />
+Stray so wide of truth, or run so wild?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Seeing his face bent over book or toy,<br />
+Child I called him, smiling: but he smiled<br />
+Back, as one too high for vain annoy&mdash;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Not a child.</p>
+<h3><a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+60</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Not a child? alack the year!<br />
+What should ail an undefiled<br />
+Heart, that he would fain appear<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Not a child?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Men, with years and memories piled<br />
+Each on other, far and near,<br />
+Fain again would so be styled:</p>
+<p class="poetry">Fain would cast off hope and fear,<br />
+Rest, forget, be reconciled:<br />
+Why would you so fain be, dear,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Not a child?</p>
+<h3><a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+61</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Child or boy, my darling, which you will,<br />
+Still your praise finds heart and song employ,<br />
+Heart and song both yearning toward you still,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Child or boy.</p>
+<p class="poetry">All joys else might sooner pall or cloy<br />
+Love than this which inly takes its fill,<br />
+Dear, of sight of your more perfect joy.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Nay, be aught you please, let all fulfil<br />
+All your pleasure; be your world your toy:<br />
+Mild or wild we love you, loud or still,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Child or boy.</p>
+<h2><a name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 62</span>TO
+DORA DORIAN.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Child</span> of two strong
+nations, heir<br />
+Born of high-souled hope that smiled,<br />
+Seeing for each brought forth a fair<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Child,</p>
+<p class="poetry">By thy gracious brows, and wild<br />
+Golden-clouded heaven of hair,<br />
+By thine eyes elate and mild,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Hope would fain take heart to swear<br />
+Men should yet be reconciled,<br />
+Seeing the sign she bids thee bear,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Child.</p>
+<h2><a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 63</span>THE
+ROUNDEL.</h2>
+<p class="poetry">A <span class="smcap">roundel</span> is wrought
+as a ring or a starbright sphere,<br />
+With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought,<br />
+That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A roundel is wrought.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Its jewel of music is carven of all or of
+aught&mdash;<br />
+Love, laughter, or mourning&mdash;remembrance of rapture or
+fear&mdash;<br />
+That fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought.</p>
+<p class="poetry">As a bird&rsquo;s quick song runs round, and
+the hearts in us hear<br />
+Pause answer to pause, and again the same strain caught,<br />
+So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; A roundel is wrought.</p>
+<h2><a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>AT
+SEA.</h2>
+<p class="poetry">&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Farewell</span> and
+adieu&rsquo; was the burden prevailing<br />
+Long since in the chant of a home-faring crew;<br />
+And the heart in us echoes, with laughing or wailing,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Farewell and adieu.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Each year that we live shall we sing it
+anew,<br />
+With a water untravelled before us for sailing<br />
+And a water behind us that wrecks may bestrew.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The stars of the past and the beacons are
+paling,<br />
+The heavens and the waters are hoarier of hue:<br />
+But the heart in us chants not an all unavailing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Farewell and adieu.</p>
+<h2><a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>WASTED
+LOVE.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">What</span> shall be done
+for sorrow<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; With love whose race is run?<br />
+Where help is none to borrow,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; What shall be done?</p>
+<p class="poetry">In vain his hands have spun<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The web, or drawn the furrow:<br />
+No rest their toil hath won.</p>
+<p class="poetry">His task is all gone thorough,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; And fruit thereof is none:<br />
+And who dare say to-morrow<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; What shall be done?</p>
+<h2><a name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>BEFORE
+SUNSET.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Love&rsquo;s</span>
+twilight wanes in heaven above,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; On earth ere twilight reigns:<br />
+Ere fear may feel the chill thereof,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love&rsquo;s twilight wanes.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Ere yet the insatiate heart complains<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; &lsquo;Too much, and scarce enough,&rsquo;<br />
+The lip so late athirst refrains.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Soft on the neck of either dove<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love&rsquo;s hands let slip the reins:<br />
+And while we look for light of love<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love&rsquo;s twilight wanes.</p>
+<h2><a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 67</span>A
+SINGING LESSON.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Far-fetched</span> and
+dear-bought, as the proverb rehearses,<br />
+Is good, or was held so, for ladies: but nought<br />
+In a song can be good if the turn of the verse is<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Far-fetched and dear-bought.</p>
+<p class="poetry">As the turn of a wave should it sound, and the
+thought<br />
+Ring smooth, and as light as the spray that disperses<br />
+Be the gleam of the words for the garb thereof wrought.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Let the soul in it shine through the sound as
+it pierces<br />
+Men&rsquo;s hearts with possession of music unsought;<br />
+For the bounties of song are no jealous god&rsquo;s mercies,<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Far-fetched and dear-bought.</p>
+<h2><a name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+68</span>FLOWER-PIECES.</h2>
+<h3>I.<br />
+LOVE LIES BLEEDING.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Love</span> lies bleeding
+in the bed whereover<br />
+Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading:<br />
+Earth lies laughing where the sun&rsquo;s dart clove her:<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love lies bleeding.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Stately shine his purple plumes, exceeding<br
+/>
+Pride of princes: nor shall maid or lover<br />
+Find on earth a fairer sign worth heeding.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Yet may love, sore wounded scarce recover<br />
+Strength and spirit again, with life receding:<br />
+Hope and joy, wind-winged, about him hover:<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Love lies bleeding.</p>
+<h3><a name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>II.<br
+/>
+LOVE IN A MIST.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Light love in a mist, by the midsummer moon
+misguided,<br />
+Scarce seen in the twilight garden if gloom insist,<br />
+Seems vainly to seek for a star whose gleam has derided<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Light love in a mist.</p>
+<p class="poetry">All day in the sun, when the breezes do all
+they list,<br />
+His soft blue raiment of cloudlike blossom abided<br />
+Unrent and unwithered of winds and of rays that kissed.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Blithe-hearted or sad, as the cloud or the sun
+subsided,<br />
+Love smiled in the flower with a meaning whereof none wist<br />
+Save two that beheld, as a gleam that before them glided,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Light love in a mist.</p>
+<h2><a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>THREE
+FACES.</h2>
+<h3>I.<br />
+VENTIMIGLIA.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">The</span> sky and sea
+glared hard and bright and blank:<br />
+Down the one steep street, with slow steps firm and free,<br />
+A tall girl paced, with eyes too proud to thank<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The sky and sea.</p>
+<p class="poetry">One dead flat sapphire, void of wrath or
+glee,<br />
+Through bay on bay shone blind from bank to bank<br />
+The weary Mediterranean, drear to see.</p>
+<p class="poetry">More deep, more living, shone her eyes that
+drank<br />
+The breathless light and shed again on me,<br />
+Till pale before their splendour waned and shrank<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The sky and sea.</p>
+<h3><a name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 71</span>II.<br
+/>
+GENOA.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Again the same strange might of eyes, that
+saw<br />
+In heaven and earth nought fairer, overcame<br />
+My sight with rapture of reiterate awe,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Again the same.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The self-same pulse of wonder shook like
+flame<br />
+The spirit of sense within me: what strange law<br />
+Had bid this be, for blessing or for blame?</p>
+<p class="poetry">To what veiled end that fate or chance
+foresaw<br />
+Came forth this second sister face, that came<br />
+Absolute, perfect, fair without a flaw,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Again the same?</p>
+<h3><a name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+72</span>III.<br />
+VENICE.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Out of the dark pure twilight, where the
+stream<br />
+Flows glimmering, streaked by many a birdlike bark<br />
+That skims the gloom whence towers and bridges gleam<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Out of the dark,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Once more a face no glance might choose but
+mark<br />
+Shone pale and bright, with eyes whose deep slow beam<br />
+Made quick the twilight, lifeless else and stark.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The same it seemed, or mystery made it seem,<br
+/>
+As those before beholden; but St. Mark<br />
+Ruled here the ways that showed it like a dream<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Out of the dark.</p>
+<h2><a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+73</span>EROS.</h2>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Eros</span>, from rest in
+isles far-famed,<br />
+With rising Anthesterion rose,<br />
+And all Hellenic heights acclaimed<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Eros.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The sea one pearl, the shore one rose,<br />
+All round him all the flower-month flamed<br />
+And lightened, laughing off repose.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Earth&rsquo;s heart, sublime and unashamed,<br
+/>
+Knew, even perchance as man&rsquo;s heart knows,<br />
+The thirst of all men&rsquo;s nature named<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Eros.</p>
+<h3><a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+74</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Eros, a fire of heart untamed,<br />
+A light of spirit in sense that glows,<br />
+Flamed heavenward still ere earth defamed<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Eros.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Nor fear nor shame durst curb or close<br />
+His golden godhead, marred and maimed,<br />
+Fast round with bonds that burnt and froze.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Ere evil faith struck blind and lamed<br />
+Love, pure as fire or flowers or snows,<br />
+Earth hailed as blameless and unblamed<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Eros.</p>
+<h3><a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+75</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Eros, with shafts by thousands aimed<br />
+At laughing lovers round in rows,<br />
+Fades from their sight whose tongues proclaimed<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Eros.</p>
+<p class="poetry">But higher than transient shapes or shows<br />
+The light of love in life inflamed<br />
+Springs, toward no goal that these disclose.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Above those heavens which passion claimed<br />
+Shines, veiled by change that ebbs and flows,<br />
+The soul in all things born or framed,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Eros.</p>
+<h2><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+76</span>SORROW.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Sorrow</span>, on wing
+through the world for ever,<br />
+Here and there for awhile would borrow<br />
+Rest, if rest might haply deliver<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Sorrow.</p>
+<p class="poetry">One thought lies close in her heart gnawn
+thorough<br />
+With pain, a weed in a dried-up river,<br />
+A rust-red share in an empty furrow.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Hearts that strain at her chain would sever<br
+/>
+The link where yesterday frets to-morrow:<br />
+All things pass in the world, but never<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Sorrow.</p>
+<h2><a name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+77</span>SLEEP.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Sleep</span>, when a soul
+that her own clouds cover<br />
+Wails that sorrow should always keep<br />
+Watch, nor see in the gloom above her<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Sleep,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Down, through darkness naked and steep,<br />
+Sinks, and the gifts of his grace recover<br />
+Soon the soul, though her wound be deep.</p>
+<p class="poetry">God beloved of us, all men&rsquo;s lover,<br />
+All most weary that smile or weep<br />
+Feel thee afar or anear them hover,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Sleep.</p>
+<h2><a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 78</span>ON AN
+OLD ROUNDEL</h2>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap"><i>Translated
+by D. C. Rossetti from the French of Villon</i></span>.</p>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Death</span>, from thy
+rigour a voice appealed,<br />
+And men still hear what the sweet cry saith,<br />
+Crying aloud in thine ears fast sealed,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death.</p>
+<p class="poetry">As a voice in a vision that vanisheth,<br />
+Through the grave&rsquo;s gate barred and the portal steeled<br
+/>
+The sound of the wail of it travelleth.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Wailing aloud from a heart unhealed,<br />
+It woke response of melodious breath<br />
+From lips now too by thy kiss congealed,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Death.</p>
+<h3><a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+79</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Ages ago, from the lips of a sad glad poet<br
+/>
+Whose soul was a wild dove lost in the whirling snow,<br />
+The soft keen plaint of his pain took voice to show it<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Ages ago.</p>
+<p class="poetry">So clear, so deep, the divine drear accents
+flow,<br />
+No soul that listens may choose but thrill to know it,<br />
+Pierced and wrung by the passionate music&rsquo;s throe.</p>
+<p class="poetry">For us there murmurs a nearer voice below
+it,<br />
+Known once of ears that never again shall know,<br />
+Now mute as the mouth which felt death&rsquo;s wave
+o&rsquo;erflow it<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Ages ago.</p>
+<h2><a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>A
+LANDSCAPE BY COURBET.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Low</span> lies the mere
+beneath the moorside, still<br />
+And glad of silence: down the wood sweeps clear<br />
+To the utmost verge where fed with many a rill<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Low lies the mere.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The wind speaks only summer: eye nor ear<br />
+Sees aught at all of dark, hears aught of shrill,<br />
+From sound or shadow felt or fancied here.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Strange, as we praise the dead man&rsquo;s
+might and skill,<br />
+Strange that harsh thoughts should make such heavy cheer,<br />
+While, clothed with peace by heaven&rsquo;s most gentle will,<br
+/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Low lies the mere.</p>
+<h2><a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 81</span>A
+FLOWER-PIECE BY FANTIN.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Heart&rsquo;s</span> ease
+or pansy, pleasure or thought,<br />
+Which would the picture give us of these?<br />
+Surely the heart that conceived it sought<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Heart&rsquo;s ease.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Surely by glad and divine degrees<br />
+The heart impelling the hand that wrought<br />
+Wrought comfort here for a soul&rsquo;s disease.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Deep flowers, with lustre and darkness
+fraught,<br />
+From glass that gleams as the chill still seas<br />
+Lean and lend for a heart distraught<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Heart&rsquo;s ease.</p>
+<h2><a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 82</span>A
+NIGHT-PIECE BY MILLET.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Wind</span> and sea and
+cloud and cloud-forsaking<br />
+Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free<br />
+Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Wind and sea.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with
+glee,<br />
+Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud&rsquo;s o&rsquo;ertaking<br
+/>
+Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee.</p>
+<p class="poetry">One blown sail beneath her, hardly making<br />
+Forth, wild-winged for harbourage yet to be,<br />
+Strives and leaps and pants beneath the breaking<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Wind and sea.</p>
+<h2><a name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+83</span>&lsquo;MARZO PAZZO.&rsquo;</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Mad</span> March, with the
+wind in his wings wide-spread,<br />
+Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn&rsquo;s arch<br />
+Hails re-risen again from the dead<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Mad March.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Soft small flames on rowan and larch<br />
+Break forth as laughter on lips that said<br />
+Nought till the pulse in them beat love&rsquo;s march.</p>
+<p class="poetry">But the heartbeat now in the lips rose-red<br
+/>
+Speaks life to the world, and the winds that parch<br />
+Bring April forth as a bride to wed<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Mad March.</p>
+<h2><a name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 84</span>DEAD
+LOVE.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Dead</span> love, by
+treason slain, lies stark,<br />
+White as a dead stark-stricken dove:<br />
+None that pass by him pause to mark<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Dead love.</p>
+<p class="poetry">His heart, that strained and yearned and
+strove<br />
+As toward the sundawn strives the lark,<br />
+Is cold as all the old joy thereof.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Dead men, re-risen from dust, may hark<br />
+When rings the trumpet blown above:<br />
+It will not raise from out the dark<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Dead love.</p>
+<h2><a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+85</span>DISCORD.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Unreconciled</span> by
+life&rsquo;s fleet years, that fled<br />
+With changeful clang of pinions wide and wild,<br />
+Though two great spirits had lived, and hence had sped<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Unreconciled;</p>
+<p class="poetry">Though time and change, harsh time&rsquo;s
+imperious child,<br />
+That wed strange hands together, might not wed<br />
+High hearts by hope&rsquo;s misprision once beguiled;</p>
+<p class="poetry">Faith, by the light from either&rsquo;s memory
+shed,<br />
+Sees, radiant as their ends were undefiled,<br />
+One goal for each&mdash;not twain among the dead<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Unreconciled.</p>
+<h2><a name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+86</span>CONCORD.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Reconciled</span> by
+death&rsquo;s mild hand, that giving<br />
+Peace gives wisdom, not more strong than mild,<br />
+Love beholds them, each without misgiving<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Reconciled.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Each on earth alike of earth reviled,<br />
+Hated, feared, derided, and forgiving,<br />
+Each alike had heaven at heart, and smiled.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Both bright names, clothed round with
+man&rsquo;s thanksgiving,<br />
+Shine, twin stars above the storm-drifts piled,<br />
+Dead and deathless, whom we saw not living<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Reconciled.</p>
+<h2><a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+87</span>MOURNING.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Alas</span> my brother! the
+cry of the mourners of old<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; That cried on each other,<br />
+All crying aloud on the dead as the death-note rolled,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Alas my brother!</p>
+<p class="poetry">As flashes of dawn that mists from an east wind
+smother<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; With fold upon fold,<br />
+The past years gleam that linked us one with another.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Time sunders hearts as of brethren whose eyes
+behold<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; No more their mother:<br />
+But a cry sounds yet from the shrine whose fires wax cold,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Alas my brother!</p>
+<h2><a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+88</span>APEROTOS EROS.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Strong</span> as death, and
+cruel as the grave,<br />
+Clothed with cloud and tempest&rsquo;s blackening breath,<br />
+Known of death&rsquo;s dread self, whom none outbrave,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Strong as death,</p>
+<p class="poetry">Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath,<br
+/>
+Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave,<br />
+Burns above a world that groans beneath.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Hath not pity power on thee to save,<br />
+Love? hath power no pity?&nbsp; Nought he saith,<br />
+Answering: blind he walks as wind or wave,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Strong as death.</p>
+<h2><a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>TO
+CATULLUS.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">My</span> brother, my
+Valerius, dearest head<br />
+Of all whose crowning bay-leaves crown their mother<br />
+Rome, in the notes first heard of thine I read<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; My brother.</p>
+<p class="poetry">No dust that death or time can strew may
+smother<br />
+Love and the sense of kinship inly bred<br />
+From loves and hates at one with one another.</p>
+<p class="poetry">To thee was C&aelig;sar&rsquo;s self nor dear
+nor dread,<br />
+Song and the sea were sweeter each than other:<br />
+How should I living fear to call thee dead<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; My brother?</p>
+<h2><a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+90</span>&lsquo;INSULARUM OCELLE.&rsquo;</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Sark</span>, fairer than
+aught in the world that the lit skies cover,<br />
+Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark<br />
+As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown clouds
+hover,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Sark.</p>
+<p class="poetry">We mourn, for love of a song that outsang the
+lark,<br />
+That nought so lovely beholden of Sirmio&rsquo;s lover<br />
+Made glad in Propontis the flight of his Pontic bark.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Here earth lies lordly, triumphal as heaven is
+above her,<br />
+And splendid and strange as the sea that upbears as an ark,<br />
+As a sign for the rapture of storm-spent eyes to discover,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Sark.</p>
+<h2><a name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 91</span>IN
+SARK.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Abreast</span> and ahead of
+the sea is a crag&rsquo;s front cloven asunder<br />
+With strong sea-breach and with wasting of winds whence terror is
+shed<br />
+As a shadow of death from the wings of the darkness on waters
+that thunder<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Abreast and ahead.</p>
+<p class="poetry">At its edge is a sepulchre hollowed and hewn
+for a lone man&rsquo;s bed,<br />
+Propped open with rock and agape on the sky and the sea
+thereunder,<br />
+But roofed and walled in well from the wrath of them slept its
+dead.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Here might not a man drink rapture of rest, or
+delight above wonder,<br />
+Beholding, a soul disembodied, the days and the nights that
+fled,<br />
+With splendour and sound of the tempest around and above him and
+under,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Abreast and ahead?</p>
+<h2><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>IN
+GUERNSEY.</h2>
+<p style="text-align: center">TO THEODORE WATTS.</p>
+<h3>I.</h3>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">The</span> heavenly bay,
+ringed round with cliffs and moors,<br />
+Storm-stained ravines, and crags that lawns inlay,<br />
+Soothes as with love the rocks whose guard secures<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The heavenly bay.</p>
+<p class="poetry">O friend, shall time take ever this away,<br />
+This blessing given of beauty that endures,<br />
+This glory shown us, not to pass but stay?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Though sight be changed for memory, love
+ensures<br />
+What memory, changed by love to sight, would say&mdash;<br />
+The word that seals for ever mine and yours<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The heavenly bay.</p>
+<h3><a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+93</span>II.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">My mother sea, my fostress, what new strand,<br
+/>
+What new delight of waters, may this be,<br />
+The fairest found since time&rsquo;s first breezes fanned<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; My mother sea?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Once more I give me body and soul to thee,<br
+/>
+Who hast my soul for ever: cliff and sand<br />
+Recede, and heart to heart once more are we.</p>
+<p class="poetry">My heart springs first and plunges, ere my
+hand<br />
+Strike out from shore: more close it brings to me,<br />
+More near and dear than seems my fatherland,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; My mother sea.</p>
+<h3><a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+94</span>III.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Across and along, as the bay&rsquo;s breadth
+opens, and o&rsquo;er us<br />
+Wild autumn exults in the wind, swift rapture and strong<br />
+Impels us, and broader the wide waves brighten before us<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Across and along.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The whole world&rsquo;s heart is uplifted, and
+knows not wrong;<br />
+The whole world&rsquo;s life is a chant to the sea-tide&rsquo;s
+chorus;<br />
+Are we not as waves of the water, as notes of the song?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Like children unworn of the passions and toils
+that wore us,<br />
+We breast for a season the breadth of the seas that throng,<br />
+Rejoicing as they, to be borne as of old they bore us<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Across and along.</p>
+<h3><a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+95</span>IV.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">On Dante&rsquo;s track by some funereal
+spell<br />
+Drawn down through desperate ways that lead not back<br />
+We seem to move, bound forth past flood and fell<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; On Dante&rsquo;s track.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The grey path ends: the gaunt rocks gape: the
+black<br />
+Deep hollow tortuous night, a soundless shell,<br />
+Glares darkness: are the fires of old grown slack?</p>
+<p class="poetry">Nay, then, what flames are these that leap and
+swell<br />
+As &rsquo;twere to show, where earth&rsquo;s foundations
+crack,<br />
+The secrets of the sepulchres of hell<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; On Dante&rsquo;s track?</p>
+<h3><a name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+96</span>V.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">By mere men&rsquo;s hands the flame was lit, we
+know,<br />
+From heaps of dry waste whin and casual brands:<br />
+Yet, knowing, we scarce believe it kindled so<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; By mere men&rsquo;s hands.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Above, around, high-vaulted hell expands,<br />
+Steep, dense, a labyrinth walled and roofed with woe,<br />
+Whose mysteries even itself not understands.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The scorn in Farinata&rsquo;s eyes aglow<br />
+Seems visible in this flame: there Geryon stands:<br />
+No stage of earth&rsquo;s is here, set forth to show<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; By mere men&rsquo;s hands.</p>
+<h3><a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+97</span>VI.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Night, in utmost noon forlorn and strong, with
+heart athirst and fasting,<br />
+Hungers here, barred up for ever, whence as one whom dreams
+affright<br />
+Day recoils before the low-browed lintel threatening doom and
+casting<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Night.</p>
+<p class="poetry">All the reefs and islands, all the lawns and
+highlands, clothed with light,<br />
+Laugh for love&rsquo;s sake in their sleep outside: but here the
+night speaks, blasting<br />
+Day with silent speech and scorn of all things known from depth
+to height.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Lower than dive the thoughts of spirit-stricken
+fear in souls forecasting<br />
+Hell, the deep void seems to yawn beyond fear&rsquo;s reach, and
+higher than sight<br />
+Rise the walls and roofs that compass it about with
+everlasting<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Night.</p>
+<h3><a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+98</span>VII.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">The house accurst, with cursing sealed and
+signed,<br />
+Heeds not what storms about it burn and burst:<br />
+No fear more fearful than its own may find<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The house accurst.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Barren as crime, anhungered and athirst,<br />
+Blank miles of moor sweep inland, sere and blind,<br />
+Where summer&rsquo;s best rebukes not winter&rsquo;s worst.</p>
+<p class="poetry">The low bleak tower with nought save wastes
+behind<br />
+Stares down the abyss whereon chance reared and nursed<br />
+This type and likeness of the accurst man&rsquo;s mind,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; The house accurst.</p>
+<h3><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+99</span>VIII.</h3>
+<p class="poetry">Beloved and blest, lit warm with love and
+fame,<br />
+The house that had the light of the earth for guest<br />
+Hears for his name&rsquo;s sake all men hail its name<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Beloved and blest.</p>
+<p class="poetry">This eyrie was the homeless eagle&rsquo;s
+nest<br />
+When storm laid waste his eyrie: hence he came<br />
+Again, when storm smote sore his mother&rsquo;s breast.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Bow down men bade us, or be clothed with
+blame<br />
+And mocked for madness: worst, they sware, was best:<br />
+But grief shone here, while joy was one with shame,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Beloved and blest.</p>
+<h2><a name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+100</span>ENVOI.</h2>
+<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">Fly</span>, white
+butterflies, out to sea,<br />
+Frail pale wings for the winds to try,<br />
+Small white wings that we scarce can see<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Fly.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Here and there may a chance-caught eye<br />
+Note in a score of you twain or three<br />
+Brighter or darker of tinge or dye.</p>
+<p class="poetry">Some fly light as a laugh of glee,<br />
+Some fly soft as a low long sigh:<br />
+All to the haven where each would be<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp; Fly.</p>
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS***</p>
+<pre>
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Century of Roundels, by Swinburne
+#4 in our series by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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+Title: A Century of Roundels
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+This etext was produced by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk,
+from the 1883 Chatto & Windus edition.
+
+
+
+
+
+A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS
+
+by Algernon Charles Swinburne
+
+
+
+
+Contents:
+
+In Harbour
+The Way of the Wind
+Had I Wist
+Recollections
+Time and Life
+A Dialogue
+Plus Ultra
+A Dead Friend
+Past Days
+Autumn and Winter
+The Death of Richard Wagner
+Two preludes
+   Lohengrin
+   Tristan und Isolde
+The Lute and the Lyre
+Plus Intra
+Change
+A Baby's Death
+One of Twain
+Death and Birth
+Birth and Death
+Benediction
+Etude Realiste
+Babyhood
+First Footsteps
+A Ninth Birthday
+Not a Child
+To Dora Dorian
+The Roundel
+At Sea
+Wasted Love
+Before Sunset
+A Singing Lesson
+Flower-pieces
+   Love Lies Bleeding
+   Love in a Mist
+Three faces
+   Ventimiglia
+   Genoa
+   Venice
+Eros
+Sorrow
+Sleep
+On an Old Roundel
+A Landscape by Courbet
+A Flower-piece by Fantin
+A Night-piece by Millet
+Marzo Pazzo
+Dead Love
+Discord
+Concord
+Mourning
+Aperotos Eros
+To Catullus
+Insularum Ocelle'
+In Sark
+In Guernsey
+Envoi
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+TO CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI
+
+
+
+Songs light as these may sound, though deep and strong
+The heart spake through them, scarce should hope to please
+Ears tuned to strains of loftier thoughts than throng
+   Songs light as these.
+
+Yet grace may set their sometime doubt at ease,
+Nor need their too rash reverence fear to wrong
+The shrine it serves at and the hope it sees.
+
+For childlike loves and laughters thence prolong
+Notes that bid enter, fearless as the breeze,
+Even to the shrine of holiest-hearted song,
+   Songs light as these.
+
+
+
+IN HARBOUR
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Goodnight and goodbye to the life whose signs denote us
+As mourners clothed with regret for the life gone by;
+To the waters of gloom whence winds of the dayspring float us
+   Goodnight and goodbye.
+
+A time is for mourning, a season for grief to sigh;
+But were we not fools and blind, by day to devote us
+As thralls to the darkness, unseen of the sundawn's eye?
+
+We have drunken of Lethe at length, we have eaten of lotus;
+What hurts it us here that sorrows are born and die?
+We have said to the dream that caressed and the dread that smote us
+   Goodnight and goodbye.
+
+II.
+
+Outside of the port ye are moored in, lying
+Close from the wind and at ease from the tide,
+What sounds come swelling, what notes fall dying
+   Outside?
+
+They will not cease, they will not abide:
+Voices of presage in darkness crying
+Pass and return and relapse aside.
+
+Ye see not, but hear ye not wild wings flying
+To the future that wakes from the past that died?
+Is grief still sleeping, is joy not sighing
+   Outside?
+
+
+
+THE WAY OF THE WIND
+
+
+
+The wind's way in the deep sky's hollow
+None may measure, as none can say
+How the heart in her shows the swallow
+   The wind's way.
+
+Hope nor fear can avail to stay
+Waves that whiten on wrecks that wallow,
+Times and seasons that wane and slay.
+
+Life and love, till the strong night swallow
+Thought and hope and the red last ray,
+Swim the waters of years that follow
+   The wind's way.
+
+
+
+'HAD I WIST'
+
+
+
+Had I wist, when life was like a warm wind playing
+Light and loud through sundawn and the dew's bright trust,
+How the time should come for hearts to sigh in saying
+   'Had I wist' -
+
+Surely not the roses, laughing as they kissed,
+Not the lovelier laugh of seas in sunshine swaying,
+Should have lured my soul to look thereon and list.
+
+Now the wind is like a soul cast out and praying
+Vainly, prayers that pierce not ears when hearts resist:
+Now mine own soul sighs, adrift as wind and straying,
+   'Had I wist.'
+
+
+
+RECOLLECTIONS
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Years upon years, as a course of clouds that thicken
+Thronging the ways of the wind that shifts and veers,
+Pass, and the flames of remembered fires requicken
+   Years upon years.
+
+Surely the thought in a man's heart hopes or fears
+Now that forgetfulness needs must here have stricken
+Anguish, and sweetened the sealed-up springs of tears.
+
+Ah, but the strength of regrets that strain and sicken,
+Yearning for love that the veil of death endears,
+Slackens not wing for the wings of years that quicken -
+   Years upon years.
+
+II.
+
+Years upon years, and the flame of love's high altar
+Trembles and sinks, and the sense of listening ears
+Heeds not the sound that it heard of love's blithe psalter
+   Years upon years.
+
+Only the sense of a heart that hearkens hears,
+Louder than dreams that assail and doubts that palter,
+Sorrow that slept and that wakes ere sundawn peers.
+
+Wakes, that the heart may behold, and yet not falter,
+Faces of children as stars unknown of, spheres
+Seen but of love, that endures though all things alter,
+   Years upon years.
+
+III.
+
+Years upon years, as a watch by night that passes,
+Pass, and the light of their eyes is fire that sears
+Slowly the hopes of the fruit that life amasses
+   Years upon years.
+
+Pale as the glimmer of stars on moorland meres
+Lighten the shadows reverberate from the glasses
+Held in their hands as they pass among their peers.
+
+Lights that are shadows, as ghosts on graveyard grasses,
+Moving on paths that the moon of memory cheers,
+Shew but as mists over cloudy mountain passes
+   Years upon years.
+
+
+
+TIME AND LIFE
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Time, thy name is sorrow, says the stricken
+Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame
+Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken,
+   Time, thy name.
+
+Girt about with shadow, blind and lame,
+Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken
+Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame.
+
+Eyes of hours whose paces halt or quicken
+Read in bloodred lines of loss and blame,
+Writ where cloud and darkness round it thicken,
+   Time, thy name.
+
+II.
+
+Nay, but rest is born of me for healing,
+- So might haply time, with voice represt,
+Speak:  is grief the last gift of my dealing?
+   Nay, but rest.
+
+All the world is wearied, east and west,
+Tired with toil to watch the slow sun wheeling,
+Twelve loud hours of life's laborious quest.
+
+Eyes forspent with vigil, faint and reeling,
+Find at last my comfort, and are blest,
+Not with rapturous light of life's revealing -
+   Nay, but rest.
+
+
+
+A DIALOGUE
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Death, if thou wilt, fain would I plead with thee:
+Canst thou not spare, of all our hopes have built,
+One shelter where our spirits fain would be,
+   Death, if thou wilt?
+
+No dome with suns and dews impearled and gilt,
+Imperial:  but some roof of wildwood tree,
+Too mean for sceptre's heft or swordblade's hilt.
+
+Some low sweet roof where love might live, set free
+From change and fear and dreams of grief or guilt;
+Canst thou not leave life even thus much to see,
+   Death, if thou wilt?
+
+II.
+
+Man, what art thou to speak and plead with me?
+What knowest thou of my workings, where and how
+What things I fashion?  Nay, behold and see,
+   Man, what art thou?
+
+Thy fruits of life, and blossoms of thy bough,
+What are they but my seedlings?  Earth and sea
+Bear nought but when I breathe on it must bow.
+
+Bow thou too down before me:  though thou be
+Great, all the pride shall fade from off thy brow,
+When Time and strong Oblivion ask of thee,
+   Man, what art thou?
+
+III.
+
+Death, if thou be or be not, as was said,
+Immortal; if thou make us nought, or we
+Survive:  thy power is made but of our dread,
+   Death, if thou be.
+
+Thy might is made out of our fear of thee:
+Who fears thee not, hath plucked from off thine head
+The crown of cloud that darkens earth and sea.
+
+Earth, sea, and sky, as rain or vapour shed,
+Shall vanish; all the shows of them shall flee:
+Then shall we know full surely, quick or dead,
+   Death, if thou be.
+
+
+
+PLUS ULTRA
+
+
+
+Far beyond the sunrise and the sunset rises
+Heaven, with worlds on worlds that lighten and respond:
+Thought can see not thence the goal of hope's surmises
+   Far beyond.
+
+Night and day have made an everlasting bond
+Each with each to hide in yet more deep disguises
+Truth, till souls of men that thirst for truth despond.
+
+All that man in pride of spirit slights or prizes,
+All the dreams that make him fearful, fain, or fond,
+Fade at forethought's touch of life's unknown surprises
+   Far beyond.
+
+
+
+A DEAD FRIEND
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Gone, O gentle heart and true,
+   Friend of hopes foregone,
+Hopes and hopeful days with you
+   Gone?
+
+   Days of old that shone
+Saw what none shall see anew,
+   When we gazed thereon.
+
+Soul as clear as sunlit dew,
+   Why so soon pass on,
+Forth from all we loved and knew
+   Gone?
+
+II.
+
+Friend of many a season fled,
+   What may sorrow send
+Toward thee now from lips that said
+   'Friend'?
+
+   Sighs and songs to blend
+Praise with pain uncomforted
+   Though the praise ascend?
+
+Darkness hides no dearer head:
+   Why should darkness end
+Day so soon, O dear and dead
+   Friend?
+
+III.
+
+Dear in death, thou hast thy part
+   Yet in life, to cheer
+Hearts that held thy gentle heart
+   Dear.
+
+   Time and chance may sear
+Hope with grief, and death may part
+   Hand from hand's clasp here:
+
+Memory, blind with tears that start,
+   Sees through every tear
+All that made thee, as thou art,
+   Dear.
+
+IV.
+
+True and tender, single-souled,
+   What should memory do
+Weeping o'er the trust we hold
+   True?
+
+   Known and loved of few,
+But of these, though small their fold,
+   Loved how well were you!
+
+Change, that makes of new things old,
+   Leaves one old thing new;
+Love which promised truth, and told
+   True.
+
+V.
+
+Kind as heaven, while earth's control
+   Still had leave to bind
+Thee, thy heart was toward man's whole
+   Kind.
+
+   Thee no shadows blind
+Now:  the change of hours that roll
+   Leaves thy sleep behind.
+
+Love, that hears thy death-bell toll
+   Yet, may call to mind
+Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul
+   Kind.
+
+VI.
+
+How should life, O friend, forget
+   Death, whose guest art thou?
+Faith responds to love's regret,
+   How?
+
+   Still, for us that bow
+Sorrowing, still, though life be set,
+   Shines thy bright mild brow.
+
+Yea, though death and thou be met,
+   Love may find thee now
+Still, albeit we know not yet
+   How.
+
+VII.
+
+Past as music fades, that shone
+   While its life might last;
+As a song-bird's shadow flown
+   Past!
+
+   Death's reverberate blast
+Now for music's lord has blown
+   Whom thy love held fast.
+
+Dead thy king, and void his throne:
+   Yet for grief at last
+Love makes music of his own
+   Past.
+
+
+
+PAST DAYS
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Dead and gone, the days we had together,
+Shadow-stricken all the lights that shone
+Round them, flown as flies the blown foam's feather,
+   Dead and gone.
+
+Where we went, we twain, in time foregone,
+Forth by land and sea, and cared not whether,
+If I go again, I go alone.
+
+Bound am I with time as with a tether;
+Thee perchance death leads enfranchised on,
+Far from deathlike life and changeful weather,
+   Dead and gone.
+
+II.
+
+Above the sea and sea-washed town we dwelt,
+We twain together, two brief summers, free
+From heed of hours as light as clouds that melt
+   Above the sea.
+
+Free from all heed of aught at all were we,
+Save chance of change that clouds or sunbeams dealt
+And gleam of heaven to windward or to lee.
+
+The Norman downs with bright grey waves for belt
+Were more for us than inland ways might be;
+A clearer sense of nearer heaven was felt
+   Above the sea.
+
+III.
+
+Cliffs and downs and headlands which the forward-hasting
+Flight of dawn and eve empurples and embrowns,
+Wings of wild sea-winds and stormy seasons wasting
+   Cliffs and downs,
+
+These, or ever man was, were:  the same sky frowns,
+Laughs, and lightens, as before his soul, forecasting
+Times to be, conceived such hopes as time discrowns.
+
+These we loved of old:  but now for me the blasting
+Breath of death makes dull the bright small seaward towns,
+Clothes with human change these all but everlasting
+   Cliffs and downs.
+
+
+
+AUTUMN AND WINTER
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon
+Between two dates of death, while men were fain
+Yet of the living light that all too soon
+   Three months bade wane.
+
+Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain,
+Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune
+That death smote silent when he smote again.
+
+First went my friend, in life's mid light of noon,
+Who loved the lord of music:  then the strain
+Whence earth was kindled like as heaven in June
+   Three months bade wane.
+
+II.
+
+A herald soul before its master's flying
+Touched by some few moons first the darkling goal
+Where shades rose up to greet the shade, espying
+   A herald soul;
+
+Shades of dead lords of music, who control
+Men living by the might of men undying,
+With strength of strains that make delight of dole.
+
+The deep dense dust on death's dim threshold lying
+Trembled with sense of kindling sound that stole
+Through darkness, and the night gave ear, descrying
+   A herald soul.
+
+III.
+
+One went before, one after, but so fast
+They seem gone hence together, from the shore
+Whence we now gaze:  yet ere the mightier passed
+   One went before;
+
+One whose whole heart of love, being set of yore
+On that high joy which music lends us, cast
+Light round him forth of music's radiant store.
+
+Then went, while earth on winter glared aghast,
+The mortal god he worshipped, through the door
+Wherethrough so late, his lover to the last,
+   One went before.
+
+IV.
+
+A star had set an hour before the sun
+Sank from the skies wherethrough his heart's pulse yet
+Thrills audibly:  but few took heed, or none,
+   A star had set.
+
+All heaven rings back, sonorous with regret,
+The deep dirge of the sunset:  how should one
+Soft star be missed in all the concourse met?
+
+But, O sweet single heart whose work is done,
+Whose songs are silent, how should I forget
+That ere the sunset's fiery goal was won
+   A star had set?
+
+
+
+THE DEATH OF RICHARD WAGNER
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Mourning on earth, as when dark hours descend,
+Wide-winged with plagues, from heaven; when hope and mirth
+Wane, and no lips rebuke or reprehend
+   Mourning on earth.
+
+The soul wherein her songs of death and birth,
+Darkness and light, were wont to sound and blend,
+Now silent, leaves the whole world less in worth.
+
+Winds that make moan and triumph, skies that bend,
+Thunders, and sound of tides in gulf and firth,
+Spake through his spirit of speech, whose death should send
+   Mourning on earth.
+
+II.
+
+The world's great heart, whence all things strange and rare
+Take form and sound, that each inseparate part
+May bear its burden in all tuned thoughts that share
+   The world's great heart -
+
+The fountain forces, whence like steeds that start
+Leap forth the powers of earth and fire and air,
+Seas that revolve and rivers that depart -
+
+Spake, and were turned to song:  yea, all they were,
+With all their works, found in his mastering art
+Speech as of powers whose uttered word laid bare
+   The world's great heart.
+
+III.
+
+From the depths of the sea, from the wellsprings of earth, from the
+wastes of the midmost night,
+From the fountains of darkness and tempest and thunder, from heights
+where the soul would be,
+The spell of the mage of music evoked their sense, as an unknown
+light
+   From the depths of the sea.
+
+As a vision of heaven from the hollows of ocean, that none but a god
+might see,
+Rose out of the silence of things unknown of a presence, a form, a
+might,
+And we heard as a prophet that hears God's message against him, and
+may not flee.
+
+Eye might not endure it, but ear and heart with a rapture of dark
+delight,
+With a terror and wonder whose core was joy, and a passion of thought
+set free,
+Felt inly the rising of doom divine as a sundawn risen to sight
+   From the depths of the sea.
+
+
+
+TWO PRELUDES
+
+
+
+I.
+
+LOHENGRIN
+
+Love, out of the depth of things,
+As a dewfall felt from above,
+From the heaven whence only springs
+   Love,
+
+Love, heard from the heights thereof,
+The clouds and the watersprings,
+Draws close as the clouds remove.
+
+And the soul in it speaks and sings,
+A swan sweet-souled as a dove,
+An echo that only rings
+   Love.
+
+II.
+
+TRISTAN UND ISOLDE
+
+Fate, out of the deep sea's gloom,
+When a man's heart's pride grows great,
+And nought seems now to foredoom
+   Fate,
+
+Fate, laden with fears in wait,
+Draws close through the clouds that loom,
+Till the soul see, all too late,
+
+More dark than a dead world's tomb,
+More high than the sheer dawn's gate,
+More deep than the wide sea's womb,
+   Fate.
+
+
+
+THE LUTE AND THE LYRE
+
+
+
+Deep desire, that pierces heart and spirit to the root,
+Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring fire,
+Takes exultant voice when music holds in high pursuit
+   Deep desire.
+
+Keen as burns the passion of the rose whose buds respire,
+Strong as grows the yearning of the blossom toward the fruit,
+Sounds the secret half unspoken ere the deep tones tire.
+
+Slow subsides the rapture that possessed love's flower-soft lute,
+Slow the palpitation of the triumph of the lyre:
+Still the soul feels burn, a flame unslaked though these be mute,
+   Deep desire.
+
+
+
+PLUS INTRA
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Soul within sense, immeasurable, obscure,
+Insepulchred and deathless, through the dense
+Deep elements may scarce be felt as pure
+   Soul within sense.
+
+From depth and height by measurers left immense,
+Through sound and shape and colour, comes the unsure
+Vague utterance, fitful with supreme suspense.
+
+All that may pass, and all that must endure,
+Song speaks not, painting shews not:  more intense
+And keen than these, art wakes with music's lure
+      Soul within sense.
+
+
+
+CHANGE
+
+
+
+But now life's face beholden
+   Seemed bright as heaven's bare brow
+With hope of gifts withholden
+   But now.
+
+   From time's full-flowering bough
+Each bud spake bloom to embolden
+   Love's heart, and seal his vow.
+
+Joy's eyes grew deep with olden
+   Dreams, born he wist not how;
+Thought's meanest garb was golden;
+   But now!
+
+
+
+A BABY'S DEATH
+
+
+
+I.
+
+A little soul scarce fledged for earth
+Takes wing with heaven again for goal
+Even while we hailed as fresh from birth
+   A little soul.
+
+Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,
+Not knowing beyond this blind world's girth
+What things are writ in heaven's full scroll.
+
+Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,
+And all things held in time's control
+Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth
+   A little soul.
+
+II.
+
+The little feet that never trod
+Earth, never strayed in field or street,
+What hand leads upward back to God
+   The little feet?
+
+A rose in June's most honied heat,
+When life makes keen the kindling sod,
+Was not so soft and warm and sweet.
+
+Their pilgrimage's period
+A few swift moons have seen complete
+Since mother's hands first clasped and shod
+   The little feet.
+
+III.
+
+The little hands that never sought
+Earth's prizes, worthless all as sands,
+What gift has death, God's servant, brought
+   The little hands?
+
+We ask:  but love's self silent stands,
+Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought
+To search where death's dim heaven expands.
+
+Ere this, perchance, though love know nought,
+Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands,
+Where hands of guiding angels caught
+   The little hands.
+
+IV.
+
+The little eyes that never knew
+Light other than of dawning skies,
+What new life now lights up anew
+   The little eyes?
+
+Who knows but on their sleep may rise
+Such light as never heaven let through
+To lighten earth from Paradise?
+
+No storm, we know, may change the blue
+Soft heaven that haply death descries
+No tears, like these in ours, bedew
+   The little eyes.
+
+V.
+
+Was life so strange, so sad the sky,
+   So strait the wide world's range,
+He would not stay to wonder why
+   Was life so strange?
+
+Was earth's fair house a joyless grange
+   Beside that house on high
+Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange?
+
+That here at once his soul put by
+   All gifts of time and change,
+And left us heavier hearts to sigh
+   'Was life so strange?'
+
+VI.
+
+Angel by name love called him, seeing so fair
+   The sweet small frame;
+Meet to be called, if ever man's child were,
+   Angel by name.
+
+Rose-bright and warm from heaven's own heart he came,
+   And might not bear
+The cloud that covers earth's wan face with shame.
+
+His little light of life was all too rare
+   And soft a flame:
+Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there
+   Angel by name.
+
+VII.
+
+The song that smiled upon his birthday here
+Weeps on the grave that holds him undefiled
+Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear
+   The song that smiled.
+
+His name crowned once the mightiest ever styled
+Sovereign of arts, and angel:  fate and fear
+Knew then their master, and were reconciled.
+
+But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere
+Michael, an angel and a little child,
+Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier
+   The song that smiled.
+
+
+
+ONE OF TWAIN
+
+
+
+I.
+
+One of twain, twin-born with flowers that waken,
+Now hath passed from sense of sun and rain:
+Wind from off the flower-crowned branch hath shaken
+   One of twain.
+
+One twin flower must pass, and one remain:
+One, the word said soothly, shall be taken,
+And another left:  can death refrain?
+
+Two years since was love's light song mistaken,
+Blessing then both blossoms, half in vain?
+Night outspeeding light hath overtaken
+   One of twain.
+
+II.
+
+Night and light?  O thou of heart unwary,
+Love, what knowest thou here at all aright,
+Lured, abused, misled as men by fairy
+   Night and light?
+
+Haply, where thine eyes behold but night,
+Soft as o'er her babe the smile of Mary
+Light breaks flowerwise into new-born sight.
+
+What though night of light to thee be chary?
+What though stars of hope like flowers take flight?
+Seest thou all things here, where all see vary
+   Night and light?
+
+
+
+DEATH AND BIRTH
+
+
+
+Death and birth should dwell not near together:
+Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth:
+Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether
+   Death and birth.
+
+Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth
+Seems that girds them each with each:  yet whether
+Death be best, who knows, or life on earth?
+
+Ill the rose-red and the sable feather
+Blend in one crown's plume, as grief with mirth:
+Ill met still are warm and wintry weather,
+   Death and birth.
+
+
+
+BIRTH AND DEATH
+
+
+
+Birth and death, twin-sister and twin-brother,
+Night and day, on all things that draw breath,
+Reign, while time keeps friends with one another
+   Birth and death.
+
+Each brow-bound with flowers diverse of wreath,
+Heaven they hail as father, earth as mother,
+Faithful found above them and beneath.
+
+Smiles may lighten tears, and tears may smother
+Smiles, for all that joy or sorrow saith:
+Joy nor sorrow knows not from each other
+   Birth and death.
+
+
+
+BENEDICTION
+
+
+
+Blest in death and life beyond man's guessing
+Little children live and die, possest
+Still of grace that keeps them past expressing
+   Blest.
+
+Each least chirp that rings from every nest,
+Each least touch of flower-soft fingers pressing
+Aught that yearns and trembles to be prest,
+
+Each least glance, gives gifts of grace, redressing
+Grief's worst wrongs:  each mother's nurturing breast
+Feeds a flower of bliss, beyond all blessing
+   Blest.
+
+
+
+ETUDE REALISTE
+
+
+
+I.
+
+A Baby's feet, like sea-shells pink,
+   Might tempt, should heaven see meet,
+An angel's lips to kiss, we think,
+   A baby's feet.
+
+Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat
+   They stretch and spread and wink
+Their ten soft buds that part and meet.
+
+No flower-bells that expand and shrink
+   Gleam half so heavenly sweet
+As shine on life's untrodden brink
+   A baby's feet.
+
+II.
+
+A baby's hands, like rosebuds furled
+   Whence yet no leaf expands,
+Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,
+   A baby's hands.
+
+Then, fast as warriors grip their brands
+   When battle's bolt is hurled,
+They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.
+
+No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
+   Match, even in loveliest lands,
+The sweetest flowers in all the world -
+   A baby's hands.
+
+III.
+
+A baby's eyes, ere speech begin,
+   Ere lips learn words or sighs,
+Bless all things bright enough to win
+   A baby's eyes.
+
+Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies,
+   And sleep flows out and in,
+Sees perfect in them Paradise.
+
+Their glance might cast out pain and sin,
+   Their speech make dumb the wise,
+By mute glad godhead felt within
+   A baby's eyes.
+
+
+
+BABYHOOD
+
+
+
+I.
+
+A baby shines as bright
+If winter or if May be
+On eyes that keep in sight
+   A baby.
+
+Though dark the skies or grey be,
+It fills our eyes with light,
+If midnight or midday be.
+
+Love hails it, day and night,
+The sweetest thing that may be
+Yet cannot praise aright
+   A baby.
+
+II.
+
+All heaven, in every baby born,
+All absolute of earthly leaven,
+Reveals itself, though man may scorn
+   All heaven.
+
+Yet man might feel all sin forgiven,
+All grief appeased, all pain outworn,
+By this one revelation given.
+
+Soul, now forget thy burdens borne:
+Heart, be thy joys now seven times seven:
+Love shows in light more bright than morn
+   All heaven.
+
+III.
+
+What likeness may define, and stray not
+   From truth's exactest way,
+A baby's beauty?  Love can say not
+   What likeness may.
+
+The Mayflower loveliest held in May
+   Of all that shine and stay not
+Laughs not in rosier disarray.
+
+Sleek satin, swansdown, buds that play not
+   As yet with winds that play,
+Would fain be matched with this, and may not:
+   What likeness may?
+
+IV.
+
+Rose, round whose bed
+Dawn's cloudlets close,
+Earth's brightest-bred
+   Rose!
+
+No song, love knows,
+May praise the head
+Your curtain shows.
+
+Ere sleep has fled,
+The whole child glows
+One sweet live red
+   Rose.
+
+
+
+FIRST FOOTSTEPS
+
+
+
+A little way, more soft and sweet
+   Than fields aflower with May,
+A babe's feet, venturing, scarce complete
+   A little way.
+
+   Eyes full of dawning day
+Look up for mother's eyes to meet,
+   Too blithe for song to say.
+
+Glad as the golden spring to greet
+   Its first live leaflet's play,
+Love, laughing, leads the little feet
+   A little way.
+
+
+
+A NINTH BIRTHDAY
+FEBRUARY 4, 1883
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Three times thrice hath winter's rough white wing
+Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice
+Since his birth whose praises love would sing
+   Three times thrice.
+
+Earth nor sea bears flower nor pearl of price
+Fit to crown the forehead of my king,
+Honey meet to please him, balm, nor spice.
+
+Love can think of nought but love to bring
+Fit to serve or do him sacrifice
+Ere his eyes have looked upon the spring
+   Three times thrice.
+
+II.
+
+Three times thrice the world has fallen on slumber,
+Shone and waned and withered in a trice,
+Frost has fettered Thames and Tyne and Humber
+   Three times thrice,
+
+Fogs have swoln too thick for steel to slice,
+Cloud and mud have soiled with grime and umber
+Earth and heaven, defaced as souls with vice,
+
+Winds have risen to wreck, snows fallen to cumber,
+Ships and chariots, trapped like rats or mice,
+Since my king first smiled, whose years now number
+   Three times thrice.
+
+III.
+
+Three times thrice, in wine of song full-flowing,
+Pledge, my heart, the child whose eyes suffice,
+Once beheld, to set thy joy-bells going
+   Three times thrice.
+
+Not the lands of palm and date and rice
+Glow more bright when summer leaves them glowing,
+Laugh more light when suns and winds entice.
+
+Noon and eve and midnight and cock-crowing,
+Child whose love makes life as paradise,
+Love should sound your praise with clarions blowing
+   Three times thrice.
+
+
+
+NOT A CHILD
+
+
+
+I.
+
+'Not a child:  I call myself a boy,'
+Says my king, with accent stern yet mild,
+Now nine years have brought him change of joy;
+   'Not a child.'
+
+How could reason be so far beguiled,
+Err so far from sense's safe employ,
+Stray so wide of truth, or run so wild?
+
+Seeing his face bent over book or toy,
+Child I called him, smiling:  but he smiled
+Back, as one too high for vain annoy -
+   Not a child.
+
+II.
+
+Not a child? alack the year!
+What should ail an undefiled
+Heart, that he would fain appear
+   Not a child?
+
+Men, with years and memories piled
+Each on other, far and near,
+Fain again would so be styled:
+
+Fain would cast off hope and fear,
+Rest, forget, be reconciled:
+Why would you so fain be, dear,
+   Not a child?
+
+III.
+
+
+Child or boy, my darling, which you will,
+Still your praise finds heart and song employ,
+Heart and song both yearning toward you still,
+   Child or boy.
+
+All joys else might sooner pall or cloy
+Love than this which inly takes its fill,
+Dear, of sight of your more perfect joy.
+
+Nay, be aught you please, let all fulfil
+All your pleasure; be your world your toy:
+Mild or wild we love you, loud or still,
+   Child or boy.
+
+
+
+TO DORA DORIAN
+
+
+
+Child of two strong nations, heir
+Born of high-souled hope that smiled,
+Seeing for each brought forth a fair
+   Child,
+
+By thy gracious brows, and wild
+Golden-clouded heaven of hair,
+By thine eyes elate and mild,
+
+Hope would fain take heart to swear
+Men should yet be reconciled,
+Seeing the sign she bids thee bear,
+   Child.
+
+
+
+THE ROUNDEL
+
+
+
+A roundel is wrought as a ring or a starbright sphere,
+With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought,
+That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear
+   A roundel is wrought.
+
+Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught -
+Love, laughter, or mourning--remembrance of rapture or fear -
+That fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought.
+
+As a bird's quick song runs round, and the hearts in us hear
+Pause answer to pause, and again the same strain caught,
+So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear,
+   A roundel is wrought.
+
+
+
+AT SEA
+
+
+
+'Farewell and adieu' was the burden prevailing
+Long since in the chant of a home-faring crew;
+And the heart in us echoes, with laughing or wailing,
+   Farewell and adieu.
+
+Each year that we live shall we sing it anew,
+With a water untravelled before us for sailing
+And a water behind us that wrecks may bestrew.
+
+The stars of the past and the beacons are paling,
+The heavens and the waters are hoarier of hue:
+But the heart in us chants not an all unavailing
+   Farewell and adieu.
+
+
+
+WASTED LOVE
+
+
+
+What shall be done for sorrow
+   With love whose race is run?
+Where help is none to borrow,
+   What shall be done?
+
+In vain his hands have spun
+   The web, or drawn the furrow:
+No rest their toil hath won.
+
+His task is all gone thorough,
+   And fruit thereof is none:
+And who dare say to-morrow
+   What shall be done?
+
+
+
+BEFORE SUNSET
+
+
+
+Love's twilight wanes in heaven above,
+   On earth ere twilight reigns:
+Ere fear may feel the chill thereof,
+   Love's twilight wanes.
+
+Ere yet the insatiate heart complains
+   'Too much, and scarce enough,'
+The lip so late athirst refrains.
+
+Soft on the neck of either dove
+   Love's hands let slip the reins:
+And while we look for light of love
+   Love's twilight wanes.
+
+
+
+A SINGING LESSON
+
+
+
+Far-fetched and dear-bought, as the proverb rehearses,
+Is good, or was held so, for ladies:  but nought
+In a song can be good if the turn of the verse is
+   Far-fetched and dear-bought.
+
+As the turn of a wave should it sound, and the thought
+Ring smooth, and as light as the spray that disperses
+Be the gleam of the words for the garb thereof wrought.
+
+Let the soul in it shine through the sound as it pierces
+Men's hearts with possession of music unsought;
+For the bounties of song are no jealous god's mercies,
+   Far-fetched and dear-bought.
+
+
+
+FLOWER-PIECES
+
+
+
+I.--LOVE LIES BLEEDING
+
+Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover
+Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading:
+Earth lies laughing where the sun's dart clove her:
+   Love lies bleeding.
+
+Stately shine his purple plumes, exceeding
+Pride of princes:  nor shall maid or lover
+Find on earth a fairer sign worth heeding.
+
+Yet may love, sore wounded scarce recover
+Strength and spirit again, with life receding:
+Hope and joy, wind-winged, about him hover:
+   Love lies bleeding.
+
+II.--LOVE IN A MIST
+
+Light love in a mist, by the midsummer moon misguided,
+Scarce seen in the twilight garden if gloom insist,
+Seems vainly to seek for a star whose gleam has derided
+   Light love in a mist.
+
+All day in the sun, when the breezes do all they list,
+His soft blue raiment of cloudlike blossom abided
+Unrent and unwithered of winds and of rays that kissed.
+
+Blithe-hearted or sad, as the cloud or the sun subsided,
+Love smiled in the flower with a meaning whereof none wist
+Save two that beheld, as a gleam that before them glided,
+   Light love in a mist.
+
+
+
+THREE FACES
+
+
+
+I.--VENTIMIGLIA
+
+The sky and sea glared hard and bright and blank:
+Down the one steep street, with slow steps firm and free,
+A tall girl paced, with eyes too proud to thank
+   The sky and sea.
+
+One dead flat sapphire, void of wrath or glee,
+Through bay on bay shone blind from bank to bank
+The weary Mediterranean, drear to see.
+
+More deep, more living, shone her eyes that drank
+The breathless light and shed again on me,
+Till pale before their splendour waned and shrank
+   The sky and sea.
+
+II.--GENOA
+
+Again the same strange might of eyes, that saw
+In heaven and earth nought fairer, overcame
+My sight with rapture of reiterate awe,
+   Again the same.
+
+The self-same pulse of wonder shook like flame
+The spirit of sense within me:  what strange law
+Had bid this be, for blessing or for blame?
+
+To what veiled end that fate or chance foresaw
+Came forth this second sister face, that came
+Absolute, perfect, fair without a flaw,
+   Again the same?
+
+III.--VENICE
+
+Out of the dark pure twilight, where the stream
+Flows glimmering, streaked by many a birdlike bark
+That skims the gloom whence towers and bridges gleam
+   Out of the dark,
+
+Once more a face no glance might choose but mark
+Shone pale and bright, with eyes whose deep slow beam
+Made quick the twilight, lifeless else and stark.
+
+The same it seemed, or mystery made it seem,
+As those before beholden; but St. Mark
+Ruled here the ways that showed it like a dream
+   Out of the dark.
+
+
+
+EROS
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Eros, from rest in isles far-famed,
+With rising Anthesterion rose,
+And all Hellenic heights acclaimed
+   Eros.
+
+The sea one pearl, the shore one rose,
+All round him all the flower-month flamed
+And lightened, laughing off repose.
+
+Earth's heart, sublime and unashamed,
+Knew, even perchance as man's heart knows,
+The thirst of all men's nature named
+   Eros.
+
+II.
+
+Eros, a fire of heart untamed,
+A light of spirit in sense that glows,
+Flamed heavenward still ere earth defamed
+   Eros.
+
+Nor fear nor shame durst curb or close
+His golden godhead, marred and maimed,
+Fast round with bonds that burnt and froze.
+
+Ere evil faith struck blind and lamed
+Love, pure as fire or flowers or snows,
+Earth hailed as blameless and unblamed
+   Eros.
+
+III.
+
+Eros, with shafts by thousands aimed
+At laughing lovers round in rows,
+Fades from their sight whose tongues proclaimed
+   Eros.
+
+But higher than transient shapes or shows
+The light of love in life inflamed
+Springs, toward no goal that these disclose.
+
+Above those heavens which passion claimed
+Shines, veiled by change that ebbs and flows,
+The soul in all things born or framed,
+   Eros.
+
+
+
+SORROW
+
+
+
+Sorrow, on wing through the world for ever,
+Here and there for awhile would borrow
+Rest, if rest might haply deliver
+   Sorrow.
+
+One thought lies close in her heart gnawn thorough
+With pain, a weed in a dried-up river,
+A rust-red share in an empty furrow.
+
+Hearts that strain at her chain would sever
+The link where yesterday frets to-morrow:
+All things pass in the world, but never
+   Sorrow.
+
+
+
+SLEEP
+
+
+
+Sleep, when a soul that her own clouds cover
+Wails that sorrow should always keep
+Watch, nor see in the gloom above her
+   Sleep,
+
+Down, through darkness naked and steep,
+Sinks, and the gifts of his grace recover
+Soon the soul, though her wound be deep.
+
+God beloved of us, all men's lover,
+All most weary that smile or weep
+Feel thee afar or anear them hover,
+   Sleep.
+
+
+
+ON AN OLD ROUNDEL
+TRANSLATED BY D. C. ROSSETTI FROM THE FRENCH OF VILLON
+
+
+
+I.
+
+Death, from thy rigour a voice appealed,
+And men still hear what the sweet cry saith,
+Crying aloud in thine ears fast sealed,
+   Death.
+
+As a voice in a vision that vanisheth,
+Through the grave's gate barred and the portal steeled
+The sound of the wail of it travelleth.
+
+Wailing aloud from a heart unhealed,
+It woke response of melodious breath
+From lips now too by thy kiss congealed,
+   Death
+
+II.
+
+Ages ago, from the lips of a sad glad poet
+Whose soul was a wild dove lost in the whirling snow,
+The soft keen plaint of his pain took voice to show it
+   Ages ago.
+
+So clear, so deep, the divine drear accents flow,
+No soul that listens may choose but thrill to know it,
+Pierced and wrung by the passionate music's throe.
+
+For us there murmurs a nearer voice below it,
+Known once of ears that never again shall know,
+Now mute as the mouth which felt death's wave o'erflow it
+   Ages ago.
+
+
+
+A LANDSCAPE BY COURBET
+
+
+
+Low lies the mere beneath the moorside, still
+And glad of silence:  down the wood sweeps clear
+To the utmost verge where fed with many a rill
+   Low lies the mere.
+
+The wind speaks only summer:  eye nor ear
+Sees aught at all of dark, hears aught of shrill,
+From sound or shadow felt or fancied here.
+
+Strange, as we praise the dead man's might and skill,
+Strange that harsh thoughts should make such heavy cheer,
+While, clothed with peace by heaven's most gentle will,
+   Low lies the mere.
+
+
+
+A FLOWER-PIECE BY FANTIN
+
+
+
+Heart's ease or pansy, pleasure or thought,
+Which would the picture give us of these?
+Surely the heart that conceived it sought
+   Heart's ease.
+
+Surely by glad and divine degrees
+The heart impelling the hand that wrought
+Wrought comfort here for a soul's disease.
+
+Deep flowers, with lustre and darkness fraught,
+From glass that gleams as the chill still seas
+Lean and lend for a heart distraught
+   Heart's ease.
+
+
+
+A NIGHT-PIECE BY MILLET
+
+
+
+Wind and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking
+Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free
+Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking
+   Wind and sea.
+
+Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee,
+Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud's o'ertaking
+Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee.
+
+One blown sail beneath her, hardly making
+Forth, wild-winged for harbourage yet to be,
+Strives and leaps and pants beneath the breaking
+   Wind and sea.
+
+
+
+'MARZO PAZZO'
+
+
+
+Mad March, with the wind in his wings wide-spread,
+Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn's arch
+Hails re-risen again from the dead
+   Mad March.
+
+Soft small flames on rowan and larch
+Break forth as laughter on lips that said
+Nought till the pulse in them beat love's march.
+
+But the heartbeat now in the lips rose-red
+Speaks life to the world, and the winds that parch
+Bring April forth as a bride to wed
+   Mad March.
+
+
+
+DEAD LOVE
+
+
+
+Dead love, by treason slain, lies stark,
+White as a dead stark-stricken dove:
+None that pass by him pause to mark
+   Dead love.
+
+His heart, that strained and yearned and strove
+As toward the sundawn strives the lark,
+Is cold as all the old joy thereof.
+
+Dead men, re-risen from dust, may hark
+When rings the trumpet blown above:
+It will not raise from out the dark
+   Dead love.
+
+
+
+DISCORD
+
+
+
+Unreconciled by life's fleet years, that fled
+With changeful clang of pinions wide and wild,
+Though two great spirits had lived, and hence had sped
+   Unreconciled;
+
+Though time and change, harsh time's imperious child,
+That wed strange hands together, might not wed
+High hearts by hope's misprision once beguiled;
+
+Faith, by the light from either's memory shed,
+Sees, radiant as their ends were undefiled,
+One goal for each--not twain among the dead
+   Unreconciled.
+
+
+
+CONCORD
+
+
+
+Reconciled by death's mild hand, that giving
+Peace gives wisdom, not more strong than mild,
+Love beholds them, each without misgiving
+   Reconciled.
+
+Each on earth alike of earth reviled,
+Hated, feared, derided, and forgiving,
+Each alike had heaven at heart, and smiled.
+
+Both bright names, clothed round with man's thanksgiving,
+Shine, twin stars above the storm-drifts piled,
+Dead and deathless, whom we saw not living
+   Reconciled.
+
+
+
+MOURNING
+
+
+
+Alas my brother! the cry of the mourners of old
+   That cried on each other,
+All crying aloud on the dead as the death-note rolled,
+   Alas my brother!
+
+As flashes of dawn that mists from an east wind smother
+   With fold upon fold,
+The past years gleam that linked us one with another.
+
+Time sunders hearts as of brethren whose eyes behold
+   No more their mother:
+But a cry sounds yet from the shrine whose fires wax cold,
+   Alas my brother!
+
+
+
+APEROTOS EROS
+
+
+
+Strong as death, and cruel as the grave,
+Clothed with cloud and tempest's blackening breath,
+Known of death's dread self, whom none outbrave,
+   Strong as death,
+
+Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath,
+Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave,
+Burns above a world that groans beneath.
+
+Hath not pity power on thee to save,
+Love? hath power no pity?  Nought he saith,
+Answering:  blind he walks as wind or wave,
+   Strong as death.
+
+
+
+TO CATULLUS
+
+
+
+My brother, my Valerius, dearest head
+Of all whose crowning bay-leaves crown their mother
+Rome, in the notes first heard of thine I read
+   My brother.
+
+No dust that death or time can strew may smother
+Love and the sense of kinship inly bred
+From loves and hates at one with one another.
+
+To thee was Caesar's self nor dear nor dread,
+Song and the sea were sweeter each than other:
+How should I living fear to call thee dead
+   My brother?
+
+
+
+'INSULARUM OCELLE'
+
+
+
+Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover,
+Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark
+As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown clouds hover,
+   Sark.
+
+We mourn, for love of a song that outsang the lark,
+That nought so lovely beholden of Sirmio's lover
+Made glad in Propontis the flight of his Pontic bark.
+
+Here earth lies lordly, triumphal as heaven is above her,
+And splendid and strange as the sea that upbears as an ark,
+As a sign for the rapture of storm-spent eyes to discover,
+   Sark.
+
+
+
+IN SARK
+
+
+
+Abreast and ahead of the sea is a crag's front cloven asunder
+With strong sea-breach and with wasting of winds whence terror is
+shed
+As a shadow of death from the wings of the darkness on waters that
+thunder
+   Abreast and ahead.
+
+At its edge is a sepulchre hollowed and hewn for a lone man's bed,
+Propped open with rock and agape on the sky and the sea thereunder,
+But roofed and walled in well from the wrath of them slept its dead.
+
+Here might not a man drink rapture of rest, or delight above wonder,
+Beholding, a soul disembodied, the days and the nights that fled,
+With splendour and sound of the tempest around and above him and
+under,
+   Abreast and ahead?
+
+
+
+IN GUERNSEY
+TO THEODORE WATTS
+
+
+
+I.
+
+The heavenly bay, ringed round with cliffs and moors,
+Storm-stained ravines, and crags that lawns inlay,
+Soothes as with love the rocks whose guard secures
+   The heavenly bay.
+
+O friend, shall time take ever this away,
+This blessing given of beauty that endures,
+This glory shown us, not to pass but stay?
+
+Though sight be changed for memory, love ensures
+What memory, changed by love to sight, would say -
+The word that seals for ever mine and yours
+   The heavenly bay.
+
+II.
+
+My mother sea, my fostress, what new strand,
+What new delight of waters, may this be,
+The fairest found since time's first breezes fanned
+   My mother sea?
+
+Once more I give me body and soul to thee,
+Who hast my soul for ever:  cliff and sand
+Recede, and heart to heart once more are we.
+
+My heart springs first and plunges, ere my hand
+Strike out from shore:  more close it brings to me,
+More near and dear than seems my fatherland,
+   My mother sea.
+
+III.
+
+Across and along, as the bay's breadth opens, and o'er us
+Wild autumn exults in the wind, swift rapture and strong
+Impels us, and broader the wide waves brighten before us
+   Across and along.
+
+The whole world's heart is uplifted, and knows not wrong;
+The whole world's life is a chant to the sea-tide's chorus;
+Are we not as waves of the water, as notes of the song?
+
+Like children unworn of the passions and toils that wore us,
+We breast for a season the breadth of the seas that throng,
+Rejoicing as they, to be borne as of old they bore us
+   Across and along.
+
+IV.
+
+On Dante's track by some funereal spell
+Drawn down through desperate ways that lead not back
+We seem to move, bound forth past flood and fell
+   On Dante's track.
+
+The grey path ends:  the gaunt rocks gape:  the black
+Deep hollow tortuous night, a soundless shell,
+Glares darkness:  are the fires of old grown slack?
+
+Nay, then, what flames are these that leap and swell
+As 'twere to show, where earth's foundations crack,
+The secrets of the sepulchres of hell
+   On Dante's track?
+
+V.
+
+By mere men's hands the flame was lit, we know,
+From heaps of dry waste whin and casual brands:
+Yet, knowing, we scarce believe it kindled so
+   By mere men's hands.
+
+Above, around, high-vaulted hell expands,
+Steep, dense, a labyrinth walled and roofed with woe,
+Whose mysteries even itself not understands.
+
+The scorn in Farinata's eyes aglow
+Seems visible in this flame:  there Geryon stands:
+No stage of earth's is here, set forth to show
+   By mere men's hands.
+
+VI.
+
+Night, in utmost noon forlorn and strong, with heart athirst and
+fasting,
+Hungers here, barred up for ever, whence as one whom dreams affright
+Day recoils before the low-browed lintel threatening doom and casting
+   Night.
+
+All the reefs and islands, all the lawns and highlands, clothed with
+light,
+Laugh for love's sake in their sleep outside:  but here the night
+speaks, blasting
+Day with silent speech and scorn of all things known from depth to
+height.
+
+Lower than dive the thoughts of spirit-stricken fear in souls
+forecasting
+Hell, the deep void seems to yawn beyond fear's reach, and higher
+than sight
+Rise the walls and roofs that compass it about with everlasting
+   Night.
+
+VII.
+
+The house accurst, with cursing sealed and signed,
+Heeds not what storms about it burn and burst:
+No fear more fearful than its own may find
+   The house accurst.
+
+Barren as crime, anhungered and athirst,
+Blank miles of moor sweep inland, sere and blind,
+Where summer's best rebukes not winter's worst.
+
+The low bleak tower with nought save wastes behind
+Stares down the abyss whereon chance reared and nursed
+This type and likeness of the accurst man's mind,
+   The house accurst.
+
+VIII.
+
+Beloved and blest, lit warm with love and fame,
+The house that had the light of the earth for guest
+Hears for his name's sake all men hail its name
+   Beloved and blest.
+
+This eyrie was the homeless eagle's nest
+When storm laid waste his eyrie:  hence he came
+Again, when storm smote sore his mother's breast.
+
+Bow down men bade us, or be clothed with blame
+And mocked for madness:  worst, they sware, was best:
+But grief shone here, while joy was one with shame,
+   Beloved and blest.
+
+
+
+ENVOI
+
+
+
+Fly, white butterflies, out to sea,
+Frail pale wings for the winds to try,
+Small white wings that we scarce can see
+   Fly.
+
+Here and there may a chance-caught eye
+Note in a score of you twain or three
+Brighter or darker of tinge or dye.
+
+Some fly light as a laugh of glee,
+Some fly soft as a low long sigh:
+All to the haven where each would be
+   Fly.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Century of Roundels, by Swinburne
+
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