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diff --git a/old/rlsnp10.txt b/old/rlsnp10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d902a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rlsnp10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4322 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Etext of New Poems by Robert Louis Stevenson +#19 in our series by Robert Louis Stevenson + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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IN THINE HONEST EYES I READ +THOUGH DEEP INDIFFERENCE SHOULD DROWSE +MY HEART, WHEN FIRST THE BLACKBIRD SINGS +I DREAMED OF FOREST ALLEYS FAIR +ST. MARTIN'S SUMMER +DEDICATION +THE OLD CHIMAERAS, OLD RECEIPTS +PRELUDE +THE VANQUISHED KNIGHT +TO THE COMMISSIONERS OF NORTHERN LIGHTS +THE RELIC TAKEN, WHAT AVAILS THE SHRINE? +ABOUT THE SHELTERED GARDEN GROUND +AFTER READING "ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA" +I KNOW NOT HOW, BUT AS I COUNT +SPRING SONG +THE SUMMER SUN SHONE ROUND ME +YOU LOOKED SO TEMPTING IN THE PEW +LOVE'S VICISSITUDES +DUDDINGSTONE +STOUT MARCHES LEAD TO CERTAIN ENDS +AWAY WITH FUNERAL MUSIC +TO SYDNEY +HAD I THE POWER THAT HAVE THE WILL +O DULL COLD NORTHERN SKY +APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT OF A YEAR LATER +TO MARCUS +TO OTTILIE +THIS GLOOMY NORTHERN DAY +THE WIND IS WITHOUT THERE AND HOWLS IN THE TREES +A VALENTINE'S SONG +HAIL! CHILDISH SLAVES OF SOCIAL RULES +SWALLOWS TRAVEL TO AND FRO +TO MESDAMES ZASSETSKY AND GARSCHINE +TO MADAME GARSCHINE +MUSIC AT THE VILLA MARINA +FEAR NOT, DEAR FRIEND, BUT FREELY LIVE YOUR DAYS +LET LOVE GO, IF GO SHE WILL +I DO NOT FEAR TO OWN ME KIN +I AM LIKE ONE THAT FOR LONG DAYS HAD SATE +VOLUNTARY +ON NOW, ALTHOUGH THE YEAR BE DONE +IN THE GREEN AND GALLANT SPRING +DEATH, TO THE DEAD FOR EVERMORE +TO CHARLES BAXTER +I WHO ALL THE WINTER THROUGH +LOVE, WHAT IS LOVE? +SOON OUR FRIENDS PERISH +AS ONE WHO HAVING WANDERED ALL NIGHT LONG +STRANGE ARE THE WAYS OF MEN +THE WIND BLEW SHRILL AND SMART +MAN SAILS THE DEEP AWHILE +THE COCK'S CLEAR VOICE INTO THE CLEARER AIR +NOW WHEN THE NUMBER OF MY YEARS +WHAT MAN MAY LEARN, WHAT MAN MAY DO +SMALL IS THE TRUST WHEN LOVE IS GREEN +KNOW YOU THE RIVER NEAR TO GREZ +IT'S FORTH ACROSS THE ROARING FOAM +AN ENGLISH BREEZE +AS IN THEIR FLIGHT THE BIRDS OF SONG +THE PIPER +TO MRS. MACMARLAND +TO MISS CORNISH +TALES OF ARABIA +BEHOLD, AS GOBLINS DARK OF MIEN +STILL I LOVE TO RHYME +LONG TIME I LAY IN LITTLE EASE +FLOWER GOD, GOD OF THE SPRING +COME, MY BELOVED, HEAR FROM ME +SINCE YEARS AGO FOR EVERMORE +ENVOY FOR "A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES" +FOR RICHMOND'S GARDEN WALL +HAIL, GUEST, AND ENTER FREELY! +LO, NOW, MY GUEST +SO LIVE, SO LOVE, SO USE THAT FRAGILE HOUR +AD SE IPSUM +BEFORE THIS LITTLE GIFT WAS COME +GO, LITTLE BOOK - THE ANCIENT PHRASE +MY LOVE WAS WARM +DEDICATORY POEM FOR "UNDERWOODS" +FAREWELL +THE FAR-FARERS +COME, MY LITTLE CHILDREN, HERE ARE SONGS FOR YOU +HOME FROM THE DAISIED MEADOWS +EARLY IN THE MORNING I HEAR ON YOUR PIANO +FAIR ISLE AT SEA +LOUD AND LOW IN THE CHIMNEY +I LOVE TO BE WARM BY THE RED FIRESIDE +AT LAST SHE COMES +MINE EYES WERE SWIFT TO KNOW THEE +FIXED IS THE DOOM +MEN ARE HEAVEN'S PIERS +THE ANGLER ROSE, HE TOOK HIS ROD +SPRING CAROL +TO WHAT SHALL I COMPARE HER +WHEN THE SUN COMES AFTER RAIN +LATE, O MILLER +TO FRIENDS AT HOME +I, WHOM APOLLO SOMETIME VISITED +TEMPEST TOSSED AND SORE AFFLICTED +VARIANT FORM OF THE PRECEDING POEM +I NOW, O FRIEND, WHOM NOISELESSLY THE SNOWS +SINCE THOU HAST GIVEN ME THIS GOOD HOPE, O GOD +GOD GAVE TO ME A CHILD IN PART +OVER THE LAND IS APRIL +LIGHT AS THE LINNET ON MY WAY I START +COMIC, HERE IS ADIEU TO THE CITY +IT BLOWS A SNOWING GALE +NE SIT ANCILLAE TIBI AMOR PUDOR +TO ALL THAT LOVE THE FAR AND BLUE +THOU STRAINEST THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN FERN +TO ROSABELLE +NOW BARE TO THE BEHOLDER'S EYE +THE BOUR-TREE DEN +SONNETS +FRAGMENTS +AIR OF DIABELLI'S +EPITAPHIUM EROTII +DE M. ANTONIO +AD MAGISTRUM LUDI +AD NEPOTEM +IN CHARIDEMUM +DE LIGURRA +IN LUPUM +AD QUINTILIANUM +DE HORTIS JULII MARTIALIS +AD MARTIALEM +IN MAXIMUM +AD OLUM +DE COENATIONE MICAE +DE EROTIO PUELLA +AD PISCATOREM + + + + + +New Poems + + + + +PRAYER + + +I ASK good things that I detest, +With speeches fair; +Heed not, I pray Thee, Lord, my breast, +But hear my prayer. + +I say ill things I would not say - +Things unaware: +Regard my breast, Lord, in Thy day, +And not my prayer. + +My heart is evil in Thy sight: +My good thoughts flee: +O Lord, I cannot wish aright - +Wish Thou for me. + +O bend my words and acts to Thee, +However ill, +That I, whate'er I say or be, +May serve Thee still. + +O let my thoughts abide in Thee +Lest I should fall: +Show me Thyself in all I see, +Thou Lord of all. + + +LO! IN THINE HONEST EYES I READ + + +LO! in thine honest eyes I read +The auspicious beacon that shall lead, +After long sailing in deep seas, +To quiet havens in June ease. + +Thy voice sings like an inland bird +First by the seaworn sailor heard; +And like road sheltered from life's sea +Thine honest heart is unto me. + + +THOUGH DEEP INDIFFERENCE SHOULD DROWSE + + +THOUGH deep indifference should drowse +The sluggish life beneath my brows, +And all the external things I see +Grow snow-showers in the street to me, +Yet inmost in my stormy sense +Thy looks shall be an influence. + +Though other loves may come and go +And long years sever us below, +Shall the thin ice that grows above +Freeze the deep centre-well of love? +No, still below light amours, thou +Shalt rule me as thou rul'st me now. + +Year following year shall only set +Fresh gems upon thy coronet; +And Time, grown lover, shall delight +To beautify thee in my sight; +And thou shalt ever rule in me +Crowned with the light of memory. + + +MY HEART, WHEN FIRST THE BLACK-BIRD SINGS + + +MY heart, when first the blackbird sings, +My heart drinks in the song: +Cool pleasure fills my bosom through +And spreads each nerve along. + +My bosom eddies quietly, +My heart is stirred and cool +As when a wind-moved briar sweeps +A stone into a pool + +But unto thee, when thee I meet, +My pulses thicken fast, +As when the maddened lake grows black +And ruffles in the blast. + + +I DREAMED OF FOREST ALLEYS FAIR + + +I. + +I DREAMED of forest alleys fair +And fields of gray-flowered grass, +Where by the yellow summer moon +My Jenny seemed to pass. + +I dreamed the yellow summer moon, +Behind a cedar wood, +Lay white on fields of rippling grass +Where I and Jenny stood. + +I dreamed - but fallen through my dream, +In a rainy land I lie +Where wan wet morning crowns the hills +Of grim reality. + +II. + +I am as one that keeps awake +All night in the month of June, +That lies awake in bed to watch +The trees and great white moon. + +For memories of love are more +Than the white moon there above, +And dearer than quiet moonshine +Are the thoughts of her I love. + +III. + +Last night I lingered long without +My last of loves to see. +Alas! the moon-white window-panes +Stared blindly back on me. + +To-day I hold her very hand, +Her very waist embrace - +Like clouds across a pool, I read +Her thoughts upon her face. + +And yet, as now, through her clear eyes +I seek the inner shrine - +I stoop to read her virgin heart +In doubt if it be mine - + +O looking long and fondly thus, +What vision should I see? +No vision, but my own white face +That grins and mimics me. + +IV. + +Once more upon the same old seat +In the same sunshiny weather, +The elm-trees' shadows at their feet +And foliage move together. + +The shadows shift upon the grass, +The dial point creeps on; +The clear sun shines, the loiterers pass, +As then they passed and shone. + +But now deep sleep is on my heart, +Deep sleep and perfect rest. +Hope's flutterings now disturb no more +The quiet of my breast. + + +ST. MARTIN'S SUMMER + + +AS swallows turning backward +When half-way o'er the sea, +At one word's trumpet summons +They came again to me - +The hopes I had forgotten +Came back again to me. + +I know not which to credit, +O lady of my heart! +Your eyes that bade me linger, +Your words that bade us part - +I know not which to credit, +My reason or my heart. + +But be my hopes rewarded, +Or be they but in vain, +I have dreamed a golden vision, +I have gathered in the grain - +I have dreamed a golden vision, +I have not lived in vain. + + +DEDICATION + + +MY first gift and my last, to you +I dedicate this fascicle of songs - +The only wealth I have: +Just as they are, to you. + +I speak the truth in soberness, and say +I had rather bring a light to your clear eyes, +Had rather hear you praise +This bosomful of songs + +Than that the whole, hard world with one consent, +In one continuous chorus of applause +Poured forth for me and mine +The homage of ripe praise. + +I write the finis here against my love, +This is my love's last epitaph and tomb. +Here the road forks, and I +Go my way, far from yours. + + +THE OLD CHIMAERAS, OLD RECEIPTS + + +THE old Chimaeras, old receipts +For making "happy land," +The old political beliefs +Swam close before my hand. + +The grand old communistic myths +In a middle state of grace, +Quite dead, but not yet gone to Hell, +And walking for a space, + +Quite dead, and looking it, and yet +All eagerness to show +The Social-Contract forgeries +By Chatterton - Rousseau - + +A hundred such as these I tried, +And hundreds after that, +I fitted Social Theories +As one would fit a hat! + +Full many a marsh-fire lured me on, +I reached at many a star, +I reached and grasped them and behold - +The stump of a cigar! + +All through the sultry sweltering day +The sweat ran down my brow, +The still plains heard my distant strokes +That have been silenced now. + +This way and that, now up, now down, +I hailed full many a blow. +Alas! beneath my weary arm +The thicket seemed to grow. + +I take the lesson, wipe my brow +And throw my axe aside, +And, sorely wearied, I go home +In the tranquil eventide. + +And soon the rising moon, that lights +The eve of my defeat, +Shall see me sitting as of yore +By my old master's feet. + + +PRELUDE + + +BY sunny market-place and street +Wherever I go my drum I beat, +And wherever I go in my coat of red +The ribbons flutter about my head. + +I seek recruits for wars to come - +For slaughterless wars I beat the drum, +And the shilling I give to each new ally +Is hope to live and courage to die. + +I know that new recruits shall come +Wherever I beat the sounding drum, +Till the roar of the march by country and town +Shall shake the tottering Dagons down. + +For I was objectless as they +And loitering idly day by day; +But whenever I heard the recruiters come, +I left my all to follow the drum. + + +THE VANQUISHED KNIGHT + + +I HAVE left all upon the shameful field, +Honour and Hope, my God, and all but life; +Spurless, with sword reversed and dinted shield, +Degraded and disgraced, I leave the strife. + +From him that hath not, shall there not be taken +E'en that he hath, when he deserts the strife? +Life left by all life's benefits forsaken, +O keep the promise, Lord, and take the life. + + +TO THE COMMISSIONERS OF NORTHERN LIGHTS + + +I SEND to you, commissioners, +A paper that may please ye, sirs +(For troth they say it might be worse +An' I believe't) +And on your business lay my curse +Before I leav't. + +I thocht I'd serve wi' you, sirs, yince, +But I've thocht better of it since; +The maitter I will nowise mince, +But tell ye true: +I'll service wi' some ither prince, +An' no wi' you. + +I've no been very deep, ye'll think, +Cam' delicately to the brink +An' when the water gart me shrink +Straucht took the rue, +An' didna stoop my fill to drink - +I own it true. + +I kent on cape and isle, a light +Burnt fair an' clearly ilka night; +But at the service I took fright, +As sune's I saw, +An' being still a neophite +Gaed straucht awa'. + +Anither course I now begin, +The weeg I'll cairry for my sin, +The court my voice shall echo in, +An' - wha can tell? - +Some ither day I may be yin +O' you mysel'. + + +THE RELIC TAKEN, WHAT AVAILS THE SHRINE? + + +THE relic taken, what avails the shrine? +The locket, pictureless? O heart of mine, +Art thou not worse than that, +Still warm, a vacant nest where love once sat? + +Her image nestled closer at my heart +Than cherished memories, healed every smart +And warmed it more than wine +Or the full summer sun in noon-day shine. + +This was the little weather gleam that lit +The cloudy promontories - the real charm was +That gilded hills and woods +And walked beside me thro' the solitudes. + +The sun is set. My heart is widowed now +Of that companion-thought. Alone I plough +The seas of life, and trace +A separate furrow far from her and grace. + + +ABOUT THE SHELTERED GARDEN GROUND + + +ABOUT the sheltered garden ground +The trees stand strangely still. +The vale ne'er seemed so deep before, +Nor yet so high the hill. + +An awful sense of quietness, +A fulness of repose, +Breathes from the dewy garden-lawns, +The silent garden rows. + +As the hoof-beats of a troop of horse +Heard far across a plain, +A nearer knowledge of great thoughts +Thrills vaguely through my brain. + +I lean my head upon my arm, +My heart's too full to think; +Like the roar of seas, upon my heart +Doth the morning stillness sink. + + +AFTER READING "ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA" + + +AS when the hunt by holt and field +Drives on with horn and strife, +Hunger of hopeless things pursues +Our spirits throughout life. + +The sea's roar fills us aching full +Of objectless desire - +The sea's roar, and the white moon-shine, +And the reddening of the fire. + +Who talks to me of reason now? +It would be more delight +To have died in Cleopatra's arms +Than be alive to-night. + + +I KNOW NOT HOW, BUT AS I COUNT + + +I KNOW not how, but as I count +The beads of former years, +Old laughter catches in my throat +With the very feel of tears. + + +SPRING SONG + + +THE air was full of sun and birds, +The fresh air sparkled clearly. +Remembrance wakened in my heart +And I knew I loved her dearly. + +The fallows and the leafless trees +And all my spirit tingled. +My earliest thought of love, and Spring's +First puff of perfume mingled. + +In my still heart the thoughts awoke, +Came lone by lone together - +Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love +A mere affair of weather? + + +THE SUMMER SUN SHONE ROUND ME + + +THE summer sun shone round me, +The folded valley lay +In a stream of sun and odour, +That sultry summer day. + +The tall trees stood in the sunlight +As still as still could be, +But the deep grass sighed and rustled +And bowed and beckoned me. + +The deep grass moved and whispered +And bowed and brushed my face. +It whispered in the sunshine: +"The winter comes apace." + + +YOU LOOKED SO TEMPTING IN THE PEW + + +YOU looked so tempting in the pew, +You looked so sly and calm - +My trembling fingers played with yours +As both looked out the Psalm. + +Your heart beat hard against my arm, +My foot to yours was set, +Your loosened ringlet burned my cheek +Whenever they two met. + +O little, little we hearkened, dear, +And little, little cared, +Although the parson sermonised, +The congregation stared. + + +LOVE'S VICISSITUDES + + +AS Love and Hope together +Walk by me for a while, +Link-armed the ways they travel +For many a pleasant mile - +Link-armed and dumb they travel, +They sing not, but they smile. + +Hope leaving, Love commences +To practise on the lute; +And as he sings and travels +With lingering, laggard foot, +Despair plays obligato +The sentimental flute. + +Until in singing garments +Comes royally, at call - +Comes limber-hipped Indiff'rence +Free stepping, straight and tall - +Comes singing and lamenting, +The sweetest pipe of all. + + +DUDDINGSTONE + + +WITH caws and chirrupings, the woods +In this thin sun rejoice. +The Psalm seems but the little kirk +That sings with its own voice. + +The cloud-rifts share their amber light +With the surface of the mere - +I think the very stones are glad +To feel each other near. + +Once more my whole heart leaps and swells +And gushes o'er with glee; +The fingers of the sun and shade +Touch music stops in me. + +Now fancy paints that bygone day +When you were here, my fair - +The whole lake rang with rapid skates +In the windless winter air. + +You leaned to me, I leaned to you, +Our course was smooth as flight - +We steered - a heel-touch to the left, +A heel-touch to the right. + +We swung our way through flying men, +Your hand lay fast in mine: +We saw the shifting crowd dispart, +The level ice-reach shine. + +I swear by yon swan-travelled lake, +By yon calm hill above, +I swear had we been drowned that day +We had been drowned in love. + + +STOUT MARCHES LEAD TO CERTAIN ENDS + + +STOUT marches lead to certain ends, +We seek no Holy Grail, my friends - +That dawn should find us every day +Some fraction farther on our way. + +The dumb lands sleep from east to west, +They stretch and turn and take their rest. +The cock has crown in the steading-yard, +But priest and people slumber hard. + +We two are early forth, and hear +The nations snoring far and near. +So peacefully their rest they take, +It seems we are the first awake! + +- Strong heart! this is no royal way, +A thousand cross-roads seek the day; +And, hid from us, to left and right, +A thousand seekers seek the light. + + +AWAY WITH FUNERAL MUSIC + + +AWAY with funeral music - set +The pipe to powerful lips - +The cup of life's for him that drinks +And not for him that sips. + + +TO SYDNEY + + +NOT thine where marble-still and white +Old statues share the tempered light +And mock the uneven modern flight, +But in the stream +Of daily sorrow and delight +To seek a theme. + +I too, O friend, have steeled my heart +Boldly to choose the better part, +To leave the beaten ways of art, +And wholly free +To dare, beyond the scanty chart, +The deeper sea. + +All vain restrictions left behind, +Frail bark! I loose my anchored mind +And large, before the prosperous wind +Desert the strand - +A new Columbus sworn to find +The morning land. + +Nor too ambitious, friend. To thee +I own my weakness. Not for me +To sing the enfranchised nations' glee, +Or count the cost +Of warships foundered far at sea +And battles lost. + +High on the far-seen, sunny hills, +Morning-content my bosom fills; +Well-pleased, I trace the wandering rills +And learn their birth. +Far off, the clash of sovereign wills +May shake the earth. + +The nimble circuit of the wheel, +The uncertain poise of merchant weal, +Heaven of famine, fire and steel +When nations fall; +These, heedful, from afar I feel - +I mark them all. + +But not, my friend, not these I sing, +My voice shall fill a narrower ring. +Tired souls, that flag upon the wing, +I seek to cheer: +Brave wines to strengthen hope I bring, +Life's cantineer! + +Some song that shall be suppling oil +To weary muscles strained with toil, +Shall hearten for the daily moil, +Or widely read +Make sweet for him that tills the soil +His daily bread. + +Such songs in my flushed hours I dream +(High thought) instead of armour gleam +Or warrior cantos ream by ream +To load the shelves - +Songs with a lilt of words, that seem +To sing themselves. + + +HAD I THE POWER THAT HAVE THE WILL + + +HAD I the power that have the will, +The enfeebled will - a modern curse - +This book of mine should blossom still +A perfect garden-ground of verse. + +White placid marble gods should keep +Good watch in every shadowy lawn; +And from clean, easy-breathing sleep +The birds should waken me at dawn. + +- A fairy garden; - none the less +Throughout these gracious paths of mine +All day there should be free access +For stricken hearts and lives that pine; + +And by the folded lawns all day - +No idle gods for such a land - +All active Love should take its way +With active Labour hand in hand. + + +O DULL COLD NORTHERN SKY + + +O DULL cold northern sky, +O brawling sabbath bells, +O feebly twittering Autumn bird that tells +The year is like to die! + +O still, spoiled trees, O city ways, +O sun desired in vain, +O dread presentiment of coming rain +That cloys the sullen days! + +Thee, heart of mine, I greet. +In what hard mountain pass +Striv'st thou? In what importunate morass +Sink now thy weary feet? + +Thou run'st a hopeless race +To win despair. No crown +Awaits success, but leaden gods look down +On thee, with evil face. + +And those that would befriend +And cherish thy defeat, +With angry welcome shall turn sour the sweet +Home-coming of the end. + +Yea, those that offer praise +To idleness, shall yet +Insult thee, coming glorious in the sweat +Of honourable ways. + + +APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT OF A YEAR LATER + + +IF you see this song, my dear, +And last year's toast, +I'm confoundedly in fear +You'll be serious and severe +About the boast. + +Blame not that I sought such aid +To cure regret. +I was then so lowly laid +I used all the Gasconnade +That I could get. + +Being snubbed is somewhat smart, +Believe, my sweet; +And I needed all my art +To restore my broken heart +To its conceit. + +Come and smile, dear, and forget +I boasted so, +I apologise - regret - +It was all a jest; - and - yet - +I do not know. + + +TO MARCUS + + +YOU have been far, and I +Been farther yet, +Since last, in foul or fair +An impecunious pair, +Below this northern sky +Of ours, we met. + +Now winter night shall see +Again us two, +While howls the tempest higher, +Sit warmly by the fire +And dream and plan, as we +Were wont to do. + +And, hand in hand, at large +Our thoughts shall walk +While storm and gusty rain, +Again and yet again, +Shall drive their noisy charge +Across the talk. + +The pleasant future still +Shall smile to me, +And hope with wooing hands +Wave on to fairy lands +All over dale and hill +And earth and sea. + +And you who doubt the sky +And fear the sun - +You - Christian with the pack - +You shall not wander back +For I am Hopeful - I +Will cheer you on. + +Come - where the great have trod, +The great shall lead - +Come, elbow through the press, +Pluck Fortune by the dress - +By God, we must - by God, +We shall succeed. + + +TO OTTILIE + + +YOU remember, I suppose, +How the August sun arose, +And how his face +Woke to trill and carolette +All the cages that were set +About the place. + +In the tender morning light +All around lay strange and bright +And still and sweet, +And the gray doves unafraid +Went their morning promenade +Along the street. + + +THIS GLOOMY NORTHERN DAY + + +THIS gloomy northern day, +Or this yet gloomier night, +Has moved a something high +In my cold heart; and I, +That do not often pray, +Would pray to-night. + +And first on Thee I call +For bread, O God of might! +Enough of bread for all, - +That through the famished town +Cold hunger may lie down +With none to-night. + +I pray for hope no less, +Strong-sinewed hope, O Lord, +That to the struggling young +May preach with brazen tongue +Stout Labour, high success, +And bright reward. + +And last, O Lord, I pray +For hearts resigned and bold +To trudge the dusty way - +Hearts stored with song and joke +And warmer than a cloak +Against the cold. + +If nothing else he had, +He who has this, has all. +This comforts under pain; +This, through the stinging rain, +Keeps ragamuffin glad +Behind the wall. + +This makes the sanded inn +A palace for a Prince, +And this, when griefs begin +And cruel fate annoys, +Can bring to mind the joys +Of ages since. + + +THE WIND IS WITHOUT THERE AND HOWLS IN THE TREES + + +THE wind is without there and howls in the trees, +And the rain-flurries drum on the glass: +Alone by the fireside with elbows on knees +I can number the hours as they pass. +Yet now, when to cheer me the crickets begin, +And my pipe is just happily lit, +Believe me, my friend, tho' the evening draws in, +That not all uncontested I sit. + +Alone, did I say? O no, nowise alone +With the Past sitting warm on my knee, +To gossip of days that are over and gone, +But still charming to her and to me. +With much to be glad of and much to deplore, +Yet, as these days with those we compare, +Believe me, my friend, tho' the sorrows seem more +They are somehow more easy to bear. + +And thou, faded Future, uncertain and frail, +As I cherish thy light in each draught, +His lamp is not more to the miner - their sail +Is not more to the crew on the raft. +For Hope can make feeble ones earnest and brave, +And, as forth thro' the years I look on, +Believe me, my friend, between this and the grave, +I see wonderful things to be done. + +To do or to try; and, believe me, my friend, +If the call should come early for me, +I can leave these foundations uprooted, and tend +For some new city over the sea. +To do or to try; and if failure be mine, +And if Fortune go cross to my plan, +Believe me, my friend, tho' I mourn the design +I shall never lament for the man. + + +A VALENTINE'S SONG + + +MOTLEY I count the only wear +That suits, in this mixed world, the truly wise, +Who boldly smile upon despair +And shake their bells in Grandam Grundy's eyes. +Singers should sing with such a goodly cheer +That the bare listening should make strong like wine, +At this unruly time of year, +The Feast of Valentine. + +We do not now parade our "oughts" +And "shoulds" and motives and beliefs in God. +Their life lies all indoors; sad thoughts +Must keep the house, while gay thoughts go abroad, +Within we hold the wake for hopes deceased; +But in the public streets, in wind or sun, +Keep open, at the annual feast, +The puppet-booth of fun. + +Our powers, perhaps, are small to please, +But even negro-songs and castanettes, +Old jokes and hackneyed repartees +Are more than the parade of vain regrets. +Let Jacques stand Wert(h)ering by the wounded deer - +We shall make merry, honest friends of mine, +At this unruly time of year, +The Feast of Valentine. + +I know how, day by weary day, +Hope fades, love fades, a thousand pleasures fade. +I have not trudged in vain that way +On which life's daylight darkens, shade by shade. +And still, with hopes decreasing, griefs increased, +Still, with what wit I have shall I, for one, +Keep open, at the annual feast, +The puppet-booth of fun. + +I care not if the wit be poor, +The old worn motley stained with rain and tears, +If but the courage still endure +That filled and strengthened hope in earlier years; +If still, with friends averted, fate severe, +A glad, untainted cheerfulness be mine +To greet the unruly time of year, +The Feast of Valentine. + +Priest, I am none of thine, and see +In the perspective of still hopeful youth +That Truth shall triumph over thee - +Truth to one's self - I know no other truth. +I see strange days for thee and thine, O priest, +And how your doctrines, fallen one by one, +Shall furnish at the annual feast +The puppet-booth of fun. + +Stand on your putrid ruins - stand, +White neck-clothed bigot, fixedly the same, +Cruel with all things but the hand, +Inquisitor in all things but the name. +Back, minister of Christ and source of fear - +We cherish freedom - back with thee and thine +From this unruly time of year, +The Feast of Valentine. + +Blood thou mayest spare; but what of tears? +But what of riven households, broken faith - +Bywords that cling through all men's years +And drag them surely down to shame and death? +Stand back, O cruel man, O foe of youth, +And let such men as hearken not thy voice +Press freely up the road to truth, +The King's highway of choice. + + +HAIL! CHILDISH SLAVES OF SOCIAL RULES + + +HAIL! Childish slaves of social rules +You had yourselves a hand in making! +How I could shake your faith, ye fools, +If but I thought it worth the shaking. +I see, and pity you; and then +Go, casting off the idle pity, +In search of better, braver men, +My own way freely through the city. + +My own way freely, and not yours; +And, careless of a town's abusing, +Seek real friendship that endures +Among the friends of my own choosing. +I'll choose my friends myself, do you hear? +And won't let Mrs. Grundy do it, +Tho' all I honour and hold dear +And all I hope should move me to it. + +I take my old coat from the shelf - +I am a man of little breeding. +And only dress to please myself - +I own, a very strange proceeding. +I smoke a pipe abroad, because +To all cigars I much prefer it, +And as I scorn your social laws +My choice has nothing to deter it. + +Gladly I trudge the footpath way, +While you and yours roll by in coaches +In all the pride of fine array, +Through all the city's thronged approaches. +O fine religious, decent folk, +In Virtue's flaunting gold and scarlet, +I sneer between two puffs of smoke, - +Give me the publican and harlot. + +Ye dainty-spoken, stiff, severe +Seed of the migrated Philistian, +One whispered question in your ear - +Pray, what was Christ, if you be Christian? +If Christ were only here just now, +Among the city's wynds and gables +Teaching the life he taught us, how +Would he be welcome to your tables? + +I go and leave your logic-straws, +Your former-friends with face averted, +Your petty ways and narrow laws, +Your Grundy and your God, deserted. +From your frail ark of lies, I flee +I know not where, like Noah's raven. +Full to the broad, unsounded sea +I swim from your dishonest haven. + +Alone on that unsounded deep, +Poor waif, it may be I shall perish, +Far from the course I thought to keep, +Far from the friends I hoped to cherish. +It may be that I shall sink, and yet +Hear, thro' all taunt and scornful laughter, +Through all defeat and all regret, +The stronger swimmers coming after. + + +SWALLOWS TRAVEL TO AND FRO + + +SWALLOWS travel to and fro, +And the great winds come and go, +And the steady breezes blow, +Bearing perfume, bearing love. +Breezes hasten, swallows fly, +Towered clouds forever ply, +And at noonday, you and I +See the same sunshine above. + +Dew and rain fall everywhere, +Harvests ripen, flowers are fair, +And the whole round earth is bare +To the moonshine and the sun; +And the live air, fanned with wings, +Bright with breeze and sunshine, brings +Into contact distant things, +And makes all the countries one. + +Let us wander where we will, +Something kindred greets us still; +Something seen on vale or hill +Falls familiar on the heart; +So, at scent or sound or sight, +Severed souls by day and night +Tremble with the same delight - +Tremble, half the world apart. + + + +TO MESDAMES ZASSETSKY AND GARSCHINE + + +THE wind may blaw the lee-gang way +And aye the lift be mirk an' gray, +An deep the moss and steigh the brae +Where a' maun gang - +There's still an hoor in ilka day +For luve and sang. + +And canty hearts are strangely steeled. +By some dikeside they'll find a bield, +Some couthy neuk by muir or field +They're sure to hit, +Where, frae the blatherin' wind concealed, +They'll rest a bit. + +An' weel for them if kindly fate +Send ower the hills to them a mate; +They'll crack a while o' kirk an' State, +O' yowes an' rain: +An' when it's time to take the gate, +Tak' ilk his ain. + +- Sic neuk beside the southern sea +I soucht - sic place o' quiet lee +Frae a' the winds o' life. To me, +Fate, rarely fair, +Had set a freendly company +To meet me there. + +Kindly by them they gart me sit, +An' blythe was I to bide a bit. +Licht as o' some hame fireside lit +My life for me. +- Ower early maun I rise an' quit +This happy lee. + + +TO MADAME GARSCHINE + + +WHAT is the face, the fairest face, till Care, +Till Care the graver - Care with cunning hand, +Etches content thereon and makes it fair, +Or constancy, and love, and makes it grand? + + +MUSIC AT THE VILLA MARINA + + +FOR some abiding central source of power, +Strong-smitten steady chords, ye seem to flow +And, flowing, carry virtue. Far below, +The vain tumultuous passions of the hour +Fleet fast and disappear; and as the sun +Shines on the wake of tempests, there is cast +O'er all the shattered ruins of my past +A strong contentment as of battles won. + +And yet I cry in anguish, as I hear +The long drawn pageant of your passage roll +Magnificently forth into the night. +To yon fair land ye come from, to yon sphere +Of strength and love where now ye shape your flight, +O even wings of music, bear my soul! + +Ye have the power, if but ye had the will, +Strong-smitten steady chords in sequence grand, +To bear me forth into that tranquil land +Where good is no more ravelled up with ill; +Where she and I, remote upon some hill +Or by some quiet river's windless strand, +May live, and love, and wander hand in hand, +And follow nature simply, and be still. + +From this grim world, where, sadly, prisoned, we +Sit bound with others' heart-strings as with chains, +And, if one moves, all suffer, - to that Goal, +If such a land, if such a sphere, there be, +Thither, from life and all life's joys and pains, +O even wings of music, bear my soul! + + +FEAR NOT, DEAR FRIEND, BUT FREELY LIVE YOUR DAYS + + +FEAR not, dear friend, but freely live your days +Though lesser lives should suffer. Such am I, +A lesser life, that what is his of sky +Gladly would give for you, and what of praise. +Step, without trouble, down the sunlit ways. +We that have touched your raiment, are made whole +From all the selfish cankers of man's soul, +And we would see you happy, dear, or die. +Therefore be brave, and therefore, dear, be free; +Try all things resolutely, till the best, +Out of all lesser betters, you shall find; +And we, who have learned greatness from you, we, +Your lovers, with a still, contented mind, +See you well anchored in some port of rest. + + +LET LOVE GO, IF GO SHE WILL + + +LET love go, if go she will. +Seek not, O fool, her wanton flight to stay. +Of all she gives and takes away +The best remains behind her still. + +The best remains behind; in vain +Joy she may give and take again, +Joy she may take and leave us pain, +If yet she leave behind +The constant mind +To meet all fortunes nobly, to endure +All things with a good heart, and still be pure, +Still to be foremost in the foremost cause, +And still be worthy of the love that was. +Love coming is omnipotent indeed, +But not Love going. Let her go. The seed +Springs in the favouring Summer air, and grows, +And waxes strong; and when the Summer goes, +Remains, a perfect tree. + +Joy she may give and take again, +Joy she may take and leave us pain. +O Love, and what care we? +For one thing thou hast given, O Love, one thing +Is ours that nothing can remove; +And as the King discrowned is still a King, +The unhappy lover still preserves his love. + + +I DO NOT FEAR TO OWN ME KIN + + +I DO not fear to own me kin +To the glad clods in which spring flowers begin; +Or to my brothers, the great trees, +That speak with pleasant voices in the breeze, +Loud talkers with the winds that pass; +Or to my sister, the deep grass. + +Of such I am, of such my body is, +That thrills to reach its lips to kiss. +That gives and takes with wind and sun and rain +And feels keen pleasure to the point of pain. + +Of such are these, +The brotherhood of stalwart trees, +The humble family of flowers, +That make a light of shadowy bowers +Or star the edges of the bent: +They give and take sweet colour and sweet scent; +They joy to shed themselves abroad; +And tree and flower and grass and sod +Thrill and leap and live and sing +With silent voices in the Spring. + +Hence I not fear to yield my breath, +Since all is still unchanged by death; +Since in some pleasant valley I may be, +Clod beside clod, or tree by tree, +Long ages hence, with her I love this hour; +And feel a lively joy to share +With her the sun and rain and air, +To taste her quiet neighbourhood +As the dumb things of field and wood, +The clod, the tree, and starry flower, +Alone of all things have the power. + + +I AM LIKE ONE THAT FOR LONG DAYS HAD SATE + + +I AM like one that for long days had sate, +With seaward eyes set keen against the gale, +On some lone foreland, watching sail by sail, +The portbound ships for one ship that was late; +And sail by sail, his heart burned up with joy, +And cruelly was quenched, until at last +One ship, the looked-for pennant at its mast, +Bore gaily, and dropt safely past the buoy; +And lo! the loved one was not there - was dead. +Then would he watch no more; no more the sea +With myriad vessels, sail by sail, perplex +His eyes and mock his longing. Weary head, +Take now thy rest; eyes, close; for no more me +Shall hopes untried elate, or ruined vex. + +For thus on love I waited; thus for love +Strained all my senses eagerly and long; +Thus for her coming ever trimmed my song; +Till in the far skies coloured as a dove, +A bird gold-coloured flickered far and fled +Over the pathless waterwaste for me; +And with spread hands I watched the bright bird flee +And waited, till before me she dropped dead. +O golden bird in these dove-coloured skies +How long I sought, how long with wearied eyes +I sought, O bird, the promise of thy flight! +And now the morn has dawned, the morn has died, +The day has come and gone; and once more night +About my lone life settles, wild and wide. + + +VOLUNTARY + + +HERE in the quiet eve +My thankful eyes receive +The quiet light. +I see the trees stand fair +Against the faded air, +And star by star prepare +The perfect night. + +And in my bosom, lo! +Content and quiet grow +Toward perfect peace. +And now when day is done, +Brief day of wind and sun, +The pure stars, one by one, +Their troop increase. + +Keen pleasure and keen grief +Give place to great relief: +Farewell my tears! +Still sounds toward me float; +I hear the bird's small note, +Sheep from the far sheepcote, +And lowing steers. + +For lo! the war is done, +Lo, now the battle won, +The trumpets still. +The shepherd's slender strain, +The country sounds again +Awake in wood and plain, +On haugh and hill. + +Loud wars and loud loves cease. +I welcome my release; +And hail once more +Free foot and way world-wide. +And oft at eventide +Light love to talk beside +The hostel door. + + +ON NOW, ALTHOUGH THE YEAR BE DONE + + +ON now, although the year be done, +Now, although the love be dead, +Dead and gone; +Hear me, O loved and cherished one, +Give me still the hand that led, +Led me on. + + +IN THE GREEN AND GALLANT SPRING + + +IN the green and gallant Spring, +Love and the lyre I thought to sing, +And kisses sweet to give and take +By the flowery hawthorn brake. + +Now is russet Autumn here, +Death and the grave and winter drear, +And I must ponder here aloof +While the rain is on the roof. + + +DEATH, TO THE DEAD FOR EVERMORE + + +DEATH, to the dead for evermore +A King, a God, the last, the best of friends - +Whene'er this mortal journey ends +Death, like a host, comes smiling to the door; +Smiling, he greets us, on that tranquil shore +Where neither piping bird nor peeping dawn +Disturbs the eternal sleep, +But in the stillness far withdrawn +Our dreamless rest for evermore we keep. + +For as from open windows forth we peep +Upon the night-time star beset +And with dews for ever wet; +So from this garish life the spirit peers; +And lo! as a sleeping city death outspread, +Where breathe the sleepers evenly; and lo! +After the loud wars, triumphs, trumpets, tears +And clamour of man's passion, Death appears, +And we must rise and go. + +Soon are eyes tired with sunshine; soon the ears +Weary of utterance, seeing all is said; +Soon, racked by hopes and fears, +The all-pondering, all-contriving head, +Weary with all things, wearies of the years; +And our sad spirits turn toward the dead; +And the tired child, the body, longs for bed. + + +TO CHARLES BAXTER + + +ON THE DEATH OF THEIR COMMON FRIEND, MR. JOHN ADAM, CLERK OF COURT. + +OUR Johnie's deid. The mair's the pity! +He's deid, an' deid o' Aqua-vitae. +O Embro', you're a shrunken city, +Noo Johnie's deid! +Tak hands, an' sing a burial ditty +Ower Johnie's heid. + +To see him was baith drink an' meat, +Gaun linkin' glegly up the street. +He but to rin or tak a seat, +The wee bit body! +Bein' aye unsicken on his feet +Wi' whusky toddy. + +To be aye tosh was Johnie's whim, +There's nane was better teut than him, +Though whiles his gravit-knot wad clim' +Ahint his ear, +An' whiles he'd buttons oot or in +The less ae mair. + +His hair a' lang about his bree, +His tap-lip lang by inches three - +A slockened sort 'mon,' to pree +A' sensuality - +A droutly glint was in his e'e +An' personality. + +An' day an' nicht, frae daw to daw, +Dink an' perjink an' doucely braw, +Wi' a kind o' Gospel ower a', +May or October, +Like Peden, followin' the Law +An' no that sober. + +Whusky an' he were pack thegether. +Whate'er the hour, whate'er the weather, +John kept himsel' wi' mistened leather +An' kindled spunk. +Wi' him, there was nae askin' whether - +John was aye drunk. + +The auncient heroes gash an' bauld +In the uncanny days of auld, +The task ance fo(u)nd to which th'were called, +Stack stenchly to it. +His life sic noble lives recalled, +Little's he knew it. + +Single an' straucht, he went his way. +He kept the faith an' played the play. +Whusky an' he were man an' may +Whate'er betided. +Bonny in life - in death - this twae +Were no' divided. + +An' wow! but John was unco sport. +Whiles he wad smile about the Court +Malvolio-like - whiles snore an' snort +Was heard afar. +The idle winter lads' resort +Was aye John's bar. + +What's merely humorous or bonny +The Worl' regairds wi' cauld astony. +Drunk men tak' aye mair place than ony; +An' sae, ye see, +The gate was aye ower thrang for Johnie - +Or you an' me. + +John micht hae jingled cap an' bells, +Been a braw fule in silks an' pells, +In ane o' the auld worl's canty hells +Paris or Sodom. +I wadnae had him naething else +But Johnie Adam. + +He suffered - as have a' that wan +Eternal memory frae man, +Since e'er the weary worl' began - +Mister or Madam, +Keats or Scots Burns, the Spanish Don +Or Johnie Adam. + +We leuch, an' Johnie deid. An' fegs! +Hoo he had keept his stoiterin' legs +Sae lang's he did's a fact that begs +An explanation. +He stachers fifty years - syne plegs +To's destination. + + +I WHO ALL THE WINTER THROUGH + + +I WHO all the winter through +Cherished other loves than you, +And kept hands with hoary policy in marriage-bed and pew; +Now I know the false and true, +For the earnest sun looks through, +And my old love comes to meet me in the dawning and the dew. + +Now the hedged meads renew +Rustic odour, smiling hue, +And the clean air shines and tinkles as the world goes wheeling through; +And my heart springs up anew, +Bright and confident and true, +And my old love comes to meet me in the dawning and the dew. + + +LOVE, WHAT IS LOVE? + + +LOVE - what is love? A great and aching heart; +Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair. +Life - what is life? Upon a moorland bare +To see love coming and see love depart. + + +SOON OUR FRIENDS PERISH + + +SOON our friends perish, +Soon all we cherish +Fades as days darken - goes as flowers go. +Soon in December +Over an ember, +Lonely we hearken, as loud winds blow. + + +AS ONE WHO HAVING WANDERED ALL NIGHT LONG + + +AS one who having wandered all night long +In a perplexed forest, comes at length +In the first hours, about the matin song, +And when the sun uprises in his strength, +To the fringed margin of the wood, and sees, +Gazing afar before him, many a mile +Of falling country, many fields and trees, +And cities and bright streams and far-off Ocean's smile: + +I, O Melampus, halting, stand at gaze: +I, liberated, look abroad on life, +Love, and distress, and dusty travelling ways, +The steersman's helm, the surgeon's helpful knife, +On the lone ploughman's earth-upturning share, +The revelry of cities and the sound +Of seas, and mountain-tops aloof in air, +And of the circling earth the unsupported round: + +I, looking, wonder: I, intent, adore; +And, O Melampus, reaching forth my hands +In adoration, cry aloud and soar +In spirit, high above the supine lands +And the low caves of mortal things, and flee +To the last fields of the universe untrod, +Where is no man, nor any earth, nor sea, +And the contented soul is all alone with God. + + +STRANGE ARE THE WAYS OF MEN + + +STRANGE are the ways of men, +And strange the ways of God! +We tread the mazy paths +That all our fathers trod. + +We tread them undismayed, +And undismayed behold +The portents of the sky, +The things that were of old. + +The fiery stars pursue +Their course in heav'n on high; +And round the 'leaguered town, +Crest-tossing heroes cry. + +Crest-tossing heroes cry; +And martial fifes declare +How small, to mortal minds, +Is merely mortal care. + +And to the clang of steel +And cry of piercing flute +Upon the azure peaks +A God shall plant his foot: + +A God in arms shall stand, +And seeing wide and far +The green and golden earth, +The killing tide of war, + +He, with uplifted arm, +Shall to the skies proclaim +The gleeful fate of man, +The noble road to fame! + + +THE WIND BLEW SHRILL AND SMART + + +THE wind blew shrill and smart, +And the wind awoke my heart +Again to go a-sailing o'er the sea, +To hear the cordage moan +And the straining timbers groan, +And to see the flying pennon lie a-lee. + +O sailor of the fleet, +It is time to stir the feet! +It's time to man the dingy and to row! +It's lay your hand in mine +And it's empty down the wine, +And it's drain a health to death before we go! + +To death, my lads, we sail; +And it's death that blows the gale +And death that holds the tiller as we ride. +For he's the king of all +In the tempest and the squall, +And the ruler of the Ocean wild and wide! + + +MAN SAILS THE DEEP AWHILE + + +MAN sails the deep awhile; +Loud runs the roaring tide; +The seas are wild and wide; +O'er many a salt, o'er many a desert mile, +The unchained breakers ride, +The quivering stars beguile. + +Hope bears the sole command; +Hope, with unshaken eyes, +Sees flaw and storm arise; +Hope, the good steersman, with unwearying hand, +Steers, under changing skies, +Unchanged toward the land. + +O wind that bravely blows! +O hope that sails with all +Where stars and voices call! +O ship undaunted that forever goes +Where God, her admiral, +His battle signal shows! + +What though the seas and wind +Far on the deep should whelm +Colours and sails and helm? +There, too, you touch that port that you designed - +There, in the mid-seas' realm, +Shall you that haven find. + +Well hast thou sailed: now die, +To die is not to sleep. +Still your true course you keep, +O sailor soul, still sailing for the sky; +And fifty fathom deep +Your colours still shall fly. + + +THE COCK'S CLEAR VOICE INTO THE CLEARER AIR + + +THE cock's clear voice into the clearer air +Where westward far I roam, +Mounts with a thrill of hope, +Falls with a sigh of home. + +A rural sentry, he from farm and field +The coming morn descries, +And, mankind's bugler, wakes +The camp of enterprise. + +He sings the morn upon the westward hills +Strange and remote and wild; +He sings it in the land +Where once I was a child. + +He brings to me dear voices of the past, +The old land and the years: +My father calls for me, +My weeping spirit hears. + +Fife, fife, into the golden air, O bird, +And sing the morning in; +For the old days are past +And new days begin. + + +NOW WHEN THE NUMBER OF MY YEARS + + +NOW when the number of my years +Is all fulfilled, and I +From sedentary life +Shall rouse me up to die, +Bury me low and let me lie +Under the wide and starry sky. +Joying to live, I joyed to die, +Bury me low and let me lie. + +Clear was my soul, my deeds were free, +Honour was called my name, +I fell not back from fear +Nor followed after fame. +Bury me low and let me lie +Under the wide and starry sky. +Joying to live, I joyed to die, +Bury me low and let me lie. + +Bury me low in valleys green +And where the milder breeze +Blows fresh along the stream, +Sings roundly in the trees - +Bury me low and let me lie +Under the wide and starry sky. +Joying to live, I joyed to die, +Bury me low and let me lie. + + +WHAT MAN MAY LEARN, WHAT MAN MAY DO + + +WHAT man may learn, what man may do, +Of right or wrong of false or true, +While, skipper-like, his course he steers +Through nine and twenty mingled years, +Half misconceived and half forgot, +So much I know and practise not. + +Old are the words of wisdom, old +The counsels of the wise and bold: +To close the ears, to check the tongue, +To keep the pining spirit young; +To act the right, to say the true, +And to be kind whate'er you do. + +Thus we across the modern stage +Follow the wise of every age; +And, as oaks grow and rivers run +Unchanged in the unchanging sun, +So the eternal march of man +Goes forth on an eternal plan. + + +SMALL IS THE TRUST WHEN LOVE IS GREEN + + +SMALL is the trust when love is green +In sap of early years; +A little thing steps in between +And kisses turn to tears. + +Awhile - and see how love be grown +In loveliness and power! +Awhile, it loves the sweets alone, +But next it loves the sour. + +A little love is none at all +That wanders or that fears; +A hearty love dwells still at call +To kisses or to tears. + +Such then be mine, my love to give, +And such be yours to take:- +A faith to hold, a life to live, +For lovingkindness' sake: + +Should you be sad, should you be gay, +Or should you prove unkind, +A love to hold the growing way +And keep the helping mind:- + +A love to turn the laugh on care +When wrinkled care appears, +And, with an equal will, to share +Your losses and your tears. + + +KNOW YOU THE RIVER NEAR TO GREZ + + +KNOW you the river near to Grez, +A river deep and clear? +Among the lilies all the way, +That ancient river runs to-day +From snowy weir to weir. + +Old as the Rhine of great renown, +She hurries clear and fast, +She runs amain by field and town +From south to north, from up to down, +To present on from past. + +The love I hold was borne by her; +And now, though far away, +My lonely spirit hears the stir +Of water round the starling spur +Beside the bridge at Grez. + +So may that love forever hold +In life an equal pace; +So may that love grow never old, +But, clear and pure and fountain-cold, +Go on from grace to grace. + + +IT'S FORTH ACROSS THE ROARING FOAM + + +IT'S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west, +It's many a lonely league from home, o'er many a mountain crest, +From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the fold, +To where the flags are flying beside the Gates of Gold. + +Where all the deep-sea galleons ride that come to bring the corn, +Where falls the fog at eventide and blows the breeze at morn; +It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold, +In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold. + +I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way, +Before the morning God rose and planned the coming day; +Afar before me forth he went, as through the sands of old, +And chose the friends to help me beside the Gates of Gold. + +I have been near, I have been far, my back's been at the wall, +Yet aye and ever shone the star to guide me through it all: +The love of God, the help of man, they both shall make me bold +Against the gates of darkness as beside the Gates of Gold. + + +AN ENGLISH BREEZE + + +UP with the sun, the breeze arose, +Across the talking corn she goes, +And smooth she rustles far and wide +Through all the voiceful countryside. + +Through all the land her tale she tells; +She spins, she tosses, she compels +The kites, the clouds, the windmill sails +And all the trees in all the dales. + +God calls us, and the day prepares +With nimble, gay and gracious airs: +And from Penzance to Maidenhead +The roads last night He watered. + +God calls us from inglorious ease, +Forth and to travel with the breeze +While, swift and singing, smooth and strong +She gallops by the fields along. + + +AS IN THEIR FLIGHT THE BIRDS OF SONG + + +AS in their flight the birds of song +Halt here and there in sweet and sunny dales, +But halt not overlong; +The time one rural song to sing +They pause; then following bounteous gales +Steer forward on the wing: +Sun-servers they, from first to last, +Upon the sun they wait +To ride the sailing blast. + +So he awhile in our contested state, +Awhile abode, not longer, for his Sun - +Mother we say, no tenderer name we know - +With whose diviner glow +His early days had shone, +Now to withdraw her radiance had begun. +Or lest a wrong I say, not she withdrew, +But the loud stream of men day after day +And great dust columns of the common way +Between them grew and grew: +And he and she for evermore might yearn, +But to the spring the rivulets not return +Nor to the bosom comes the child again. + +And he (O may we fancy so!), +He, feeling time forever flow +And flowing bear him forth and far away +From that dear ingle where his life began +And all his treasure lay - +He, waxing into man, +And ever farther, ever closer wound +In this obstreperous world's ignoble round, +From that poor prospect turned his face away. + + +THE PIPER + + +AGAIN I hear you piping, for I know the tune so well, - +You rouse the heart to wander and be free, +Tho' where you learned your music, not the God of song can tell, +For you pipe the open highway and the sea. +O piper, lightly footing, lightly piping on your way, +Tho' your music thrills and pierces far and near, +I tell you you had better pipe to someone else to-day, +For you cannot pipe my fancy from my dear. + +You sound the note of travel through the hamlet and the town; +You would lure the holy angels from on high; +And not a man can hear you, but he throws the hammer down +And is off to see the countries ere he die. +But now no more I wander, now unchanging here I stay; +By my love, you find me safely sitting here: +And pipe you ne'er so sweetly, till you pipe the hills away, +You can never pipe my fancy from my dear. + + +TO MRS. MACMARLAND + + +IN Schnee der Alpen - so it runs +To those divine accords - and here +We dwell in Alpine snows and suns, +A motley crew, for half the year: +A motley crew, we dwell to taste - +A shivering band in hope and fear - +That sun upon the snowy waste, +That Alpine ether cold and clear. + +Up from the laboured plains, and up +From low sea-levels, we arise +To drink of that diviner cup +The rarer air, the clearer skies; +For, as the great, old, godly King +From mankind's turbid valley cries, +So all we mountain-lovers sing: +I to the hills will lift mine eyes. + +The bells that ring, the peaks that climb, +The frozen snow's unbroken curd +Might yet revindicate in rhyme +The pauseless stream, the absent bird. +In vain - for to the deeps of life +You, lady, you my heart have stirred; +And since you say you love my life, +Be sure I love you for the word. + +Of kindness, here I nothing say - +Such loveless kindnesses there are +In that grimacing, common way, +That old, unhonoured social war. +Love but my dog and love my love, +Adore with me a common star - +I value not the rest above +The ashes of a bad cigar. + + +TO MISS CORNISH + + +THEY tell me, lady, that to-day +On that unknown Australian strand - +Some time ago, so far away - +Another lady joined the band. +She joined the company of those +Lovelily dowered, nobly planned, +Who, smiling, still forgive their foes +And keep their friends in close command. + +She, lady, as I learn, was one +Among the many rarely good; +And destined still to be a sun +Through every dark and rainy mood:- +She, as they told me, far had come, +By sea and land, o'er many a rood:- +Admired by all, beloved by some, +She was yourself, I understood. + +But, compliment apart and free +From all constraint of verses, may +Goodness and honour, grace and glee, +Attend you ever on your way - +Up to the measure of your will, +Beyond all power of mine to say - +As she and I desire you still, +Miss Cornish, on your natal day. + + +TALES OF ARABIA + + +YES, friend, I own these tales of Arabia +Smile not, as smiled their flawless originals, +Age-old but yet untamed, for ages +Pass and the magic is undiminished. + +Thus, friend, the tales of the old Camaralzaman, +Ayoub, the Slave of Love, or the Calendars, +Blind-eyed and ill-starred royal scions, +Charm us in age as they charmed in childhood. + +Fair ones, beyond all numerability, +Beam from the palace, beam on humanity, +Bright-eyed, in truth, yet soul-less houris +Offering pleasure and only pleasure. + +Thus they, the venal Muses Arabian, +Unlike, indeed, the nobler divinities, +Greek Gods or old time-honoured muses, +Easily proffer unloved caresses. + +Lost, lost, the man who mindeth the minstrelsy; +Since still, in sandy, glittering pleasances, +Cold, stony fruits, gem-like but quite in- +Edible, flatter and wholly starve him. + + +BEHOLD, AS GOBLINS DARK OF MIEN + + +BEHOLD, as goblins dark of mien +And portly tyrants dyed with crime +Change, in the transformation scene, +At Christmas, in the pantomime, + +Instanter, at the prompter's cough, +The fairy bonnets them, and they +Throw their abhorred carbuncles off +And blossom like the flowers in May. + +- So mankind, to angelic eyes, +So, through the scenes of life below, +In life's ironical disguise, +A travesty of man, ye go: + +But fear not: ere the curtain fall, +Death in the transformation scene +Steps forward from her pedestal, +Apparent, as the fairy Queen; + +And coming, frees you in a trice +From all your lendings - lust of fame, +Ungainly virtue, ugly vice, +Terror and tyranny and shame. + +So each, at last himself, for good +In that dear country lays him down, +At last beloved and understood +And pure in feature and renown. + + +STILL I LOVE TO RHYME + + +STILL I love to rhyme, and still more, rhyming, to wander +Far from the commoner way; +Old-time trills and falls by the brook-side still do I ponder, +Dreaming to-morrow to-day. + +Come here, come, revive me, Sun-God, teach me, Apollo, +Measures descanted before; +Since I ancient verses, I emulous follow, +Prints in the marbles of yore. + +Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested, +Songs for the brain to forget - +Young song-birds elate to grave old temples benested +Piping and chirruping yet. + +Thoughts? No thought has yet unskilled attempted to flutter +Trammelled so vilely in verse; +He who writes but aims at fame and his bread and his butter, +Won with a groan and a curse. + + +LONG TIME I LAY IN LITTLE EASE + + +LONG time I lay in little ease +Where, placed by the Turanian, +Marseilles, the many-masted, sees +The blue Mediterranean. + +Now songful in the hour of sport, +Now riotous for wages, +She camps around her ancient port, +As ancient of the ages. + +Algerian airs through all the place +Unconquerably sally; +Incomparable women pace +The shadows of the alley. + +And high o'er dark and graving yard +And where the sky is paler, +The golden virgin of the guard +Shines, beckoning the sailor. + +She hears the city roar on high, +Thief, prostitute, and banker; +She sees the masted vessels lie +Immovably at anchor. + +She sees the snowy islets dot +The sea's immortal azure, +And If, that castellated spot, +Tower, turret, and embrasure. + + +FLOWER GOD, GOD OF THE SPRING + + +FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, +Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, +Here I wander in April +Cold, grey-headed; and still to my +Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer, +Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant; +Spring, flower-planter in meadows, +Child-conductor in willowy +Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses: +Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity: +O child, happy are children! +She still smiles on their innocence, +She, dear mother in God, fostering violets, +Fills earth full of her scents, voices and violins: +Thus one cunning in music +Wakes old chords in the memory: +Thus fair earth in the Spring leads her performances. +One more touch of the bow, smell of the virginal +Green - one more, and my bosom +Feels new life with an ecstasy. + + +COME, MY BELOVED, HEAR FROM ME + + +COME, my beloved, hear from me +Tales of the woods or open sea. +Let our aspiring fancy rise +A wren's flight higher toward the skies; +Or far from cities, brown and bare, +Play at the least in open air. +In all the tales men hear us tell +Still let the unfathomed ocean swell, +Or shallower forest sound abroad +Below the lonely stars of God; +In all, let something still be done, +Still in a corner shine the sun, +Slim-ankled maids be fleet of foot, +Nor man disown the rural flute. +Still let the hero from the start +In honest sweat and beats of heart +Push on along the untrodden road +For some inviolate abode. +Still, O beloved, let me hear +The great bell beating far and near- +The odd, unknown, enchanted gong +That on the road hales men along, +That from the mountain calls afar, +That lures a vessel from a star, +And with a still, aerial sound +Makes all the earth enchanted ground. +Love, and the love of life and act +Dance, live and sing through all our furrowed tract; +Till the great God enamoured gives +To him who reads, to him who lives, +That rare and fair romantic strain +That whoso hears must hear again. + + +SINCE YEARS AGO FOR EVERMORE + + +SINCE years ago for evermore +My cedar ship I drew to shore; +And to the road and riverbed +And the green, nodding reeds, I said +Mine ignorant and last farewell: +Now with content at home I dwell, +And now divide my sluggish life +Betwixt my verses and my wife: +In vain; for when the lamp is lit +And by the laughing fire I sit, +Still with the tattered atlas spread +Interminable roads I tread. + + +ENVOY FOR "A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES" + + +WHETHER upon the garden seat +You lounge with your uplifted feet +Under the May's whole Heaven of blue; +Or whether on the sofa you, +No grown up person being by, +Do some soft corner occupy; +Take you this volume in your hands +And enter into other lands, +For lo! (as children feign) suppose +You, hunting in the garden rows, +Or in the lumbered attic, or +The cellar - a nail-studded door +And dark, descending stairway found +That led to kingdoms underground: +There standing, you should hear with ease +Strange birds a-singing, or the trees +Swing in big robber woods, or bells +On many fairy citadels: + +There passing through (a step or so - +Neither mamma nor nurse need know!) +From your nice nurseries you would pass, +Like Alice through the Looking-Glass +Or Gerda following Little Ray, +To wondrous countries far away. +Well, and just so this volume can +Transport each little maid or man +Presto from where they live away +Where other children used to play. +As from the house your mother sees +You playing round the garden trees, +So you may see if you but look +Through the windows of this book +Another child far, far away +And in another garden play. +But do not think you can at all, +By knocking on the window, call +That child to hear you. He intent +Is still on his play-business bent. +He does not hear, he will not look, +Nor yet be lured out of this book. +For long ago, the truth to say, +He has grown up and gone away; +And it is but a child of air +That lingers in the garden there. + + +FOR RICHMOND'S GARDEN WALL + + +WHEN Thomas set this tablet here, +Time laughed at the vain chanticleer; +And ere the moss had dimmed the stone, +Time had defaced that garrison. +Now I in turn keep watch and ward +In my red house, in my walled yard +Of sunflowers, sitting here at ease +With friends and my bright canvases. +But hark, and you may hear quite plain +Time's chuckled laughter in the lane. + + +HAIL, GUEST, AND ENTER FREELY! + + +HAIL, guest, and enter freely! All you see +Is, for your momentary visit, yours; and we +Who welcome you are but the guests of God, +And know not our departure. + + +LO, NOW, MY GUEST + + +LO, now, my guest, if aught amiss were said, +Forgive it and dismiss it from your head. +For me, for you, for all, to close the date, +Pass now the ev'ning sponge across the slate; +And to that spirit of forgiveness keep +Which is the parent and the child of sleep. + + +SO LIVE, SO LOVE, SO USE THAT FRAGILE HOUR + + +SO live, so love, so use that fragile hour, +That when the dark hand of the shining power +Shall one from other, wife or husband, take, +The poor survivor may not weep and wake. + + +AD SE IPSUM + + +DEAR sir, good-morrow! Five years back, +When you first girded for this arduous track, +And under various whimsical pretexts +Endowed another with your damned defects, +Could you have dreamed in your despondent vein +That the kind God would make your path so plain? +Non nobis, domine! O, may He still +Support my stumbling footsteps on the hill! + + +BEFORE THIS LITTLE GIFT WAS COME + + +BEFORE this little gift was come +The little owner had made haste for home; +And from the door of where the eternal dwell, +Looked back on human things and smiled farewell. +O may this grief remain the only one! +O may our house be still a garrison +Of smiling children, and for evermore +The tune of little feet be heard along the floor! + + +GO, LITTLE BOOK - THE ANCIENT PHRASE + + +GO, little book - the ancient phrase +And still the daintiest - go your ways, +My Otto, over sea and land, +Till you shall come to Nelly's hand. + +How shall I your Nelly know? +By her blue eyes and her black brow, +By her fierce and slender look, +And by her goodness, little book! + +What shall I say when I come there? +You shall speak her soft and fair: +See - you shall say - the love they send +To greet their unforgotten friend! + +Giant Adulpho you shall sing +The next, and then the cradled king: +And the four corners of the roof +Then kindly bless; and to your perch aloof, +Where Balzac all in yellow dressed +And the dear Webster of the west +Encircle the prepotent throne +Of Shakespeare and of Calderon, +Shall climb an upstart. + +There with these +You shall give ear to breaking seas +And windmills turning in the breeze, +A distant undetermined din +Without; and you shall hear within +The blazing and the bickering logs, +The crowing child, the yawning dogs, +And ever agile, high and low, +Our Nelly going to and fro. + +There shall you all silent sit, +Till, when perchance the lamp is lit +And the day's labour done, she takes +Poor Otto down, and, warming for our sakes, +Perchance beholds, alive and near, +Our distant faces reappear. + + +MY LOVE WAS WARM + + +MY love was warm; for that I crossed +The mountains and the sea, +Nor counted that endeavour lost +That gave my love to me. + +If that indeed were love at all, +As still, my love, I trow, +By what dear name am I to call +The bond that holds me now + + +DEDICATORY POEM FOR "UNDERWOODS" + + +TO her, for I must still regard her +As feminine in her degree, +Who has been my unkind bombarder +Year after year, in grief and glee, +Year after year, with oaken tree; +And yet betweenwhiles my laudator +In terms astonishing to me - +To the Right Reverend The Spectator +I here, a humble dedicator, +Bring the last apples from my tree. + +In tones of love, in tones of warning, +She hailed me through my brief career; +And kiss and buffet, night and morning, +Told me my grandmamma was near; +Whether she praised me high and clear +Through her unrivalled circulation, +Or, sanctimonious insincere, +She damned me with a misquotation - +A chequered but a sweet relation, +Say, was it not, my granny dear? + +Believe me, granny, altogether +Yours, though perhaps to your surprise. +Oft have you spruced my wounded feather, +Oft brought a light into my eyes - +For notice still the writer cries. +In any civil age or nation, +The book that is not talked of dies. +So that shall be my termination: +Whether in praise or execration, +Still, if you love me, criticise! + + +FAREWELL + + +FAREWELL, and when forth +I through the Golden Gates to Golden Isles +Steer without smiling, through the sea of smiles, +Isle upon isle, in the seas of the south, +Isle upon island, sea upon sea, +Why should I sail, why should the breeze? +I have been young, and I have counted friends. +A hopeless sail I spread, too late, too late. +Why should I from isle to isle +Sail, a hopeless sailor? + + +THE FAR-FARERS + + +THE broad sun, +The bright day: +White sails +On the blue bay: +The far-farers +Draw away. + +Light the fires +And close the door. +To the old homes, +To the loved shore, +The far-farers +Return no more. + + +HOME, MY LITTLE CHILDREN, HERE ARE SONGS FOR YOU + + +COME, my little children, here are songs for you; +Some are short and some are long, and all, all are new. +You must learn to sing them very small and clear, +Very true to time and tune and pleasing to the ear. + +Mark the note that rises, mark the notes that fall, +Mark the time when broken, and the swing of it all. +So when night is come, and you have gone to bed, +All the songs you love to sing shall echo in your head. + + +COME FROM THE DAISIED MEADOWS + + +HOME from the daisied meadows, where you linger yet - +Home, golden-headed playmate, ere the sun is set; +For the dews are falling fast +And the night has come at last. +Home with you, home and lay your little head at rest, +Safe, safe, my little darling, on your mother's breast. +Lullaby, darling; your mother is watching you; + she'll be your guardian and shield. +Lullaby, slumber, my darling, till morning be + bright upon mountain and field. +Long, long the shadows fall. +All white and smooth at home your little bed is laid. +All round your head be angels. + + +EARLY IN THE MORNING I HEAR ON YOUR PIANO + + +EARLY in the morning I hear on your piano +You (at least, I guess it's you) proceed to learn to play. +Mostly little minds should take and tackle their piano +While the birds are singing in the morning of the day. + + +FAIR ISLE AT SEA + + +FAIR Isle at Sea - thy lovely name +Soft in my ear like music came. +That sea I loved, and once or twice +I touched at isles of Paradise. + + +LOUD AND LOW IN THE CHIMNEY + + +LOUD and low in the chimney +The squalls suspire; +Then like an answer dwindles +And glows the fire, +And the chamber reddens and darkens +In time like taken breath. +Near by the sounding chimney +The youth apart +Hearkens with changing colour +And leaping heart, +And hears in the coil of the tempest +The voice of love and death. +Love on high in the flute-like +And tender notes +Sounds as from April meadows +And hillside cotes; +But the deep wood wind in the chimney +Utters the slogan of death. + + +I LOVE TO BE WARM BY THE RED FIRESIDE + + +I LOVE to be warm by the red fireside, +I love to be wet with rain: +I love to be welcome at lamplit doors, +And leave the doors again. + + +AT LAST SHE COMES + + +AT last she comes, O never more +In this dear patience of my pain +To leave me lonely as before, +Or leave my soul alone again. + + +MINE EYES WERE SWIFT TO KNOW THEE + + +MINE eyes were swift to know thee, and my heart +As swift to love. I did become at once +Thine wholly, thine unalterably, thine +In honourable service, pure intent, +Steadfast excess of love and laughing care: +And as she was, so am, and so shall be. +I knew thee helpful, knew thee true, knew thee +And Pity bedfellows: I heard thy talk +With answerable throbbings. On the stream, +Deep, swift, and clear, the lilies floated; fish +Through the shadows ran. There, thou and I +Read Kindness in our eyes and closed the match. + + +FIXED IS THE DOOM + + +FIXED is the doom; and to the last of years +Teacher and taught, friend, lover, parent, child, +Each walks, though near, yet separate; each beholds +His dear ones shine beyond him like the stars. +We also, love, forever dwell apart; +With cries approach, with cries behold the gulph, +The Unvaulted; as two great eagles that do wheel in air +Above a mountain, and with screams confer, +Far heard athwart the cedars. +Yet the years +Shall bring us ever nearer; day by day +Endearing, week by week, till death at last +Dissolve that long divorce. By faith we love, +Not knowledge; and by faith, though far removed, +Dwell as in perfect nearness, heart to heart. +We but excuse +Those things we merely are; and to our souls +A brave deception cherish. +So from unhappy war a man returns +Unfearing, or the seaman from the deep; +So from cool night and woodlands to a feast +May someone enter, and still breathe of dews, +And in her eyes still wear the dusky night. + + +MEN ARE HEAVEN'S PIERS + + +MEN are Heaven's piers; they evermore +Unwearying bear the skyey floor; +Man's theatre they bear with ease, +Unfrowning cariatides! +I, for my wife, the sun uphold, +Or, dozing, strike the seasons cold. +She, on her side, in fairy-wise +Deals in diviner mysteries, +By spells to make the fuel burn +And keep the parlour warm, to turn +Water to wine, and stones to bread, +By her unconquered hero-head. +A naked Adam, naked Eve, +Alone the primal bower we weave; +Sequestered in the seas of life, +A Crusoe couple, man and wife, +With all our good, with all our will, +Our unfrequented isle we fill; +And victor in day's petty wars, +Each for the other lights the stars. +Come then, my Eve, and to and fro +Let us about our garden go; +And, grateful-hearted, hand in hand +Revisit all our tillage land, +And marvel at our strange estate, +For hooded ruin at the gate +Sits watchful, and the angels fear +To see us tread so boldly here. +Meanwhile, my Eve, with flower and grass +Our perishable days we pass; +Far more the thorn observe - and see +How our enormous sins go free - +Nor less admire, beside the rose, +How far a little virtue goes. + + +THE ANGLER ROSE, HE TOOK HIS ROD + + +THE angler rose, he took his rod, +He kneeled and made his prayers to God. +The living God sat overhead: +The angler tripped, the eels were fed + + +SPRING CAROL + + +WHEN loud by landside streamlets gush, +And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush, +With sun on the meadows +And songs in the shadows +Comes again to me +The gift of the tongues of the lea, +The gift of the tongues of meadows. + +Straightway my olden heart returns +And dances with the dancing burns; +It sings with the sparrows; +To the rain and the (grimy) barrows +Sings my heart aloud - +To the silver-bellied cloud, +To the silver rainy arrows. + +It bears the song of the skylark down, +And it hears the singing of the town; +And youth on the highways +And lovers in byways +Follows and sees: +And hearkens the song of the leas +And sings the songs of the highways. + +So when the earth is alive with gods, +And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod, +And the grass sings in the meadows, +And the flowers smile in the shadows, +Sits my heart at ease, +Hearing the song of the leas, +Singing the songs of the meadows. + + +TO WHAT SHALL I COMPARE HER? + + +TO what shall I compare her, +That is as fair as she? +For she is fairer - fairer +Than the sea. +What shall be likened to her, +The sainted of my youth? +For she is truer - truer +Than the truth. + +As the stars are from the sleeper, +Her heart is hid from me; +For she is deeper - deeper +Than the sea. +Yet in my dreams I view her +Flush rosy with new ruth - +Dreams! Ah, may these prove truer +Than the truth. + + +WHEN THE SUN COMES AFTER RAIN + + +WHEN the sun comes after rain +And the bird is in the blue, +The girls go down the lane +Two by two. + +When the sun comes after shadow +And the singing of the showers, +The girls go up the meadow, +Fair as flowers. + +When the eve comes dusky red +And the moon succeeds the sun, +The girls go home to bed +One by one. + +And when life draws to its even +And the day of man is past, +They shall all go home to heaven, +Home at last. + + +LATE, O MILLER + + +LATE, O miller, +The birds are silent, +The darkness falls. +In the house the lights are lighted. +See, in the valley they twinkle, +The lights of home. +Late, O lovers, +The night is at hand; +Silence and darkness +Clothe the land. + + +TO FRIENDS AT HOME + + +TO friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost +The gracious old, the lovely young, to May +The fair, December the beloved, +These from my blue horizon and green isles, +These from this pinnacle of distances I, +The unforgetful, dedicate. + + +I, WHOM APOLLO SOMETIME VISITED + + +I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited, +Or feigned to visit, now, my day being done, +Do slumber wholly; nor shall know at all +The weariness of changes; nor perceive +Immeasurable sands of centuries +Drink of the blanching ink, or the loud sound +Of generations beat the music down. + + +TEMPEST TOSSED AND SORE AFFLICTED + + +TEMPEST tossed and sore afflicted, sin defiled and care oppressed, +Come to me, all ye that labour; come, and I will give ye rest. +Fear no more, O doubting hearted; weep no more, O weeping eye! +Lo, the voice of your redeemer; lo, the songful morning near. + +Here one hour you toil and combat, sin and suffer, bleed and die; +In my father's quiet mansion soon to lay your burden by. +Bear a moment, heavy laden, weary hand and weeping eye. +Lo, the feet of your deliverer; lo, the hour of freedom here. + + +VARIANT FORM OF THE PRECEDING POEM + + +COME to me, all ye that labour; I will give your spirits rest; +Here apart in starry quiet I will give you rest. +Come to me, ye heavy laden, sin defiled and care opprest, +In your father's quiet mansions, soon to prove a welcome guest. +But an hour you bear your trial, sin and suffer, bleed and die; +But an hour you toil and combat here in day's inspiring eye. +See the feet of your deliverer; lo, the hour of freedom nigh. + + +I NOW, O FRIEND, WHOM NOISELESSLY THE SNOWS + + +I NOW, O friend, whom noiselessly the snows +Settle around, and whose small chamber grows +Dusk as the sloping window takes its load: + +* * * * * + +The kindly hill, as to complete our hap, +Has ta'en us in the shelter of her lap; +Well sheltered in our slender grove of trees +And ring of walls, we sit between her knees; +A disused quarry, paved with rose plots, hung +With clematis, the barren womb whence sprung +The crow-stepped house itself, that now far seen +Stands, like a bather, to the neck in green. +A disused quarry, furnished with a seat +Sacred to pipes and meditation meet +For such a sunny and retired nook. +There in the clear, warm mornings many a book +Has vied with the fair prospect of the hills +That, vale on vale, rough brae on brae, upfills +Halfway to the zenith all the vacant sky +To keep my loose attention. . . . +Horace has sat with me whole mornings through: +And Montaigne gossiped, fairly false and true; +And chattering Pepys, and a few beside +That suit the easy vein, the quiet tide, +The calm and certain stay of garden-life, +Far sunk from all the thunderous roar of strife. +There is about the small secluded place +A garnish of old times; a certain grace +Of pensive memories lays about the braes: +The old chestnuts gossip tales of bygone days. +Here, where some wandering preacher, blest Lazil, +Perhaps, or Peden, on the middle hill +Had made his secret church, in rain or snow, +He cheers the chosen residue from woe. +All night the doors stood open, come who might, +The hounded kebbock mat the mud all night. +Nor are there wanting later tales; of how +Prince Charlie's Highlanders . . . + +* * * * * + +I have had talents, too. In life's first hour +God crowned with benefits my childish head. +Flower after flower, I plucked them; flower by flower +Cast them behind me, ruined, withered, dead. +Full many a shining godhead disappeared. +From the bright rank that once adorned her brow +The old child's Olympus + +* * * * * + +Gone are the fair old dreams, and one by one, +As, one by one, the means to reach them went, +As, one by one, the stars in riot and disgrace, +I squandered what . . . + +There shut the door, alas! on many a hope +Too many; +My face is set to the autumnal slope, +Where the loud winds shall . . . + +There shut the door, alas! on many a hope, +And yet some hopes remain that shall decide +My rest of years and down the autumnal slope. + +* * * * * + +Gone are the quiet twilight dreams that I +Loved, as all men have loved them; gone! +I have great dreams, and still they stir my soul on high - +Dreams of the knight's stout heart and tempered will. +Not in Elysian lands they take their way; +Not as of yore across the gay champaign, +Towards some dream city, towered . . . +and my . . . +The path winds forth before me, sweet and plain, +Not now; but though beneath a stone-grey sky +November's russet woodlands toss and wail, +Still the white road goes thro' them, still may I, +Strong in new purpose, God, may still prevail. + +* * * * * + +I and my like, improvident sailors! + +* * * * * + +At whose light fall awaking, all my heart +Grew populous with gracious, favoured thought, +And all night long thereafter, hour by hour, +The pageant of dead love before my eyes +Went proudly, and old hopes with downcast head +Followed like Kings, subdued in Rome's imperial hour, +Followed the car; and I . . . + + +SINCE THOU HAST GIVEN ME THIS GOOD HOPE, O GOD + + +SINCE thou hast given me this good hope, O God, +That while my footsteps tread the flowery sod +And the great woods embower me, and white dawn +And purple even sweetly lead me on +From day to day, and night to night, O God, +My life shall no wise miss the light of love; +But ever climbing, climb above +Man's one poor star, man's supine lands, +Into the azure steadfastness of death, +My life shall no wise lack the light of love, +My hands not lack the loving touch of hands; +But day by day, while yet I draw my breath, +And day by day, unto my last of years, +I shall be one that has a perfect friend. +Her heart shall taste my laughter and my tears, +And her kind eyes shall lead me to the end. + + +GOD GAVE TO ME A CHILD IN PART + + +GOD gave to me a child in part, +Yet wholly gave the father's heart: +Child of my soul, O whither now, +Unborn, unmothered, goest thou? + +You came, you went, and no man wist; +Hapless, my child, no breast you kist; +On no dear knees, a privileged babbler, clomb, +Nor knew the kindly feel of home. + +My voice may reach you, O my dear- +A father's voice perhaps the child may hear; +And, pitying, you may turn your view +On that poor father whom you never knew. + +Alas! alone he sits, who then, +Immortal among mortal men, +Sat hand in hand with love, and all day through +With your dear mother wondered over you. + + +OVER THE LAND IS APRIL + + +OVER the land is April, +Over my heart a rose; +Over the high, brown mountain +The sound of singing goes. +Say, love, do you hear me, +Hear my sonnets ring? +Over the high, brown mountain, +Love, do you hear me sing? + +By highway, love, and byway +The snows succeed the rose. +Over the high, brown mountain +The wind of winter blows. +Say, love, do you hear me, +Hear my sonnets ring? +Over the high, brown mountain +I sound the song of spring, +I throw the flowers of spring. +Do you hear the song of spring? +Hear you the songs of spring? + + +LIGHT AS THE LINNET ON MY WAY I START + + +LIGHT as the linnet on my way I start, +For all my pack I bear a chartered heart. +Forth on the world without a guide or chart, +Content to know, through all man's varying fates, +The eternal woman by the wayside waits. + + +COME, HERE IS ADIEU TO THE CITY + + +COME, here is adieu to the city +And hurrah for the country again. +The broad road lies before me +Watered with last night's rain. +The timbered country woos me +With many a high and bough; +And again in the shining fallows +The ploughman follows the plough. + +The whole year's sweat and study, +And the whole year's sowing time, +Comes now to the perfect harvest, +And ripens now into rhyme. +For we that sow in the Autumn, +We reap our grain in the Spring, +And we that go sowing and weeping +Return to reap and sing. + + +IT BLOWS A SNOWING GALE + + +IT blows a snowing gale in the winter of the year; +The boats are on the sea and the crews are on the pier. +The needle of the vane, it is veering to and fro, +A flash of sun is on the veering of the vane. +Autumn leaves and rain, +The passion of the gale. + + +NE SIT ANCILLAE TIBI AMOR PUDOR + + +THERE'S just a twinkle in your eye +That seems to say I MIGHT, if I +Were only bold enough to try +An arm about your waist. +I hear, too, as you come and go, +That pretty nervous laugh, you know; +And then your cap is always so +Coquettishly displaced. + +Your cap! the word's profanely said. +That little top-knot, white and red, +That quaintly crowns your graceful head, +No bigger than a flower, +Is set with such a witching art, +Is so provocatively smart, +I'd like to wear it on my heart, +An order for an hour! + +O graceful housemaid, tall and fair, +I love your shy imperial air, +And always loiter on the stair +When you are going by. +A strict reserve the fates demand; +But, when to let you pass I stand, +Sometimes by chance I touch your hand +And sometimes catch your eye. + + +TO ALL THAT LOVE THE FAR AND BLUE + + +TO all that love the far and blue: +Whether, from dawn to eve, on foot +The fleeing corners ye pursue, +Nor weary of the vain pursuit; +Or whether down the singing stream, +Paddle in hand, jocund ye shoot, +To splash beside the splashing bream +Or anchor by the willow root: + +Or, bolder, from the narrow shore +Put forth, that cedar ark to steer, +Among the seabirds and the roar +Of the great sea, profound and clear; +Or, lastly if in heart ye roam, +Not caring to do else, and hear, +Safe sitting by the fire at home, +Footfalls in Utah or Pamere: + +Though long the way, though hard to bear +The sun and rain, the dust and dew; +Though still attainment and despair +Inter the old, despoil the new; +There shall at length, be sure, O friends, +Howe'er ye steer, whate'er ye do - +At length, and at the end of ends, +The golden city come in view. + + +THOU STRAINEST THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN FERN +(A FRAGMENT) + + +THOU strainest through the mountain fern, +A most exiguously thin Burn. +For all thy foam, for all thy din, +Thee shall the pallid lake inurn, +With well-a-day for Mr. Swin-Burne! +Take then this quarto in thy fin +And, O thou stoker huge and stern, +The whole affair, outside and in, +Burn! +But save the true poetic kin, +The works of Mr. Robert Burn' +And William Wordsworth upon Tin-Tern! + + +TO ROSABELLE + + +WHEN my young lady has grown great and staid, +And in long raiment wondrously arrayed, +She may take pleasure with a smile to know +How she delighted men-folk long ago. +For her long after, then, this tale I tell +Of the two fans and fairy Rosabelle. +Hot was the day; her weary sire and I +Sat in our chairs companionably nigh, +Each with a headache sat her sire and I. + +Instant the hostess waked: she viewed the scene, +Divined the giants' languor by their mien, +And with hospitable care +Tackled at once an Atlantean chair. +Her pigmy stature scarce attained the seat - +She dragged it where she would, and with her feet +Surmounted; thence, a Phaeton launched, she crowned +The vast plateau of the piano, found +And culled a pair of fans; wherewith equipped, +Our mountaineer back to the level slipped; +And being landed, with considerate eyes, +Betwixt her elders dealt her double prize; +The small to me, the greater to her sire. +As painters now advance and now retire +Before the growing canvas, and anon +Once more approach and put the climax on: +So she awhile withdrew, her piece she viewed - +For half a moment half supposed it good - +Spied her mistake, nor sooner spied than ran +To remedy; and with the greater fan, +In gracious better thought, equipped the guest. + +From ill to well, from better on to best, +Arts move; the homely, like the plastic kind; +And high ideals fired that infant mind. +Once more she backed, once more a space apart +Considered and reviewed her work of art: +Doubtful at first, and gravely yet awhile; +Till all her features blossomed in a smile. +And the child, waking at the call of bliss, +To each she ran, and took and gave a kiss. + + +NOW BARE TO THE BEHOLDER'S EYE + + +NOW bare to the beholder's eye +Your late denuded bindings lie, +Subsiding slowly where they fell, +A disinvested citadel; +The obdurate corset, Cupid's foe, +The Dutchman's breeches frilled below. +Those that the lover notes to note, +And white and crackling petticoat. + +From these, that on the ground repose, +Their lady lately re-arose; +And laying by the lady's name, +A living woman re-became. +Of her, that from the public eye +They do enclose and fortify, +Now, lying scattered as they fell, +An indiscreeter tale they tell: +Of that more soft and secret her +Whose daylong fortresses they were, +By fading warmth, by lingering print, +These now discarded scabbards hint. + +A twofold change the ladies know: +First, in the morn the bugles blow, +And they, with floral hues and scents, +Man their beribboned battlements. +But let the stars appear, and they +Shed inhumanities away; +And from the changeling fashion see, +Through comic and through sweet degree, +In nature's toilet unsurpassed, +Forth leaps the laughing girl at last. + + +THE BOUR-TREE DEN + + +CLINKUM-CLANK in the rain they ride, +Down by the braes and the grey sea-side; +Clinkum-clank by stane and cairn, +Weary fa' their horse-shoe-airn! + +Loud on the causey, saft on the sand, +Round they rade by the tail of the land; +Round and up by the Bour-Tree Den, +Weary fa' the red-coat men! + +Aft hae I gane where they hae rade +And straigled in the gowden brooms - +Aft hae I gane, a saikless maid, +And O! sae bonny as the bour-tree blooms! + +Wi' swords and guns they wanton there, +Wi' red, red coats and braw, braw plumes. +But I gaed wi' my gowden hair, +And O! sae bonny as the bour-tree blooms! + +I ran, a little hempie lass, +In the sand and the bent grass, +Or took and kilted my small coats +To play in the beached fisher-boats. + +I waded deep and I ran fast, +I was as lean as a lugger's mast, +I was as brown as a fisher's creel, +And I liked my life unco weel. + +They blew a trumpet at the cross, +Some forty men, both foot and horse. +A'body cam to hear and see, +And wha, among the rest, but me. +My lips were saut wi' the saut air, +My face was brown, my feet were bare +The wind had ravelled my tautit hair, +And I thought shame to be standing there. + +Ae man there in the thick of the throng +Sat in his saddle, straight and strong. +I looked at him and he at me, +And he was a master-man to see. +. . . And who is this yin? and who is yon +That has the bonny lendings on? +That sits and looks sae braw and crouse? +. . . Mister Frank o' the Big House! + +I gaed my lane beside the sea; +The wind it blew in bush and tree, +The wind blew in bush and bent: +Muckle I saw, and muckle kent! + +Between the beach and the sea-hill +I sat my lane and grat my fill - +I was sae clarty and hard and dark, +And like the kye in the cow park! + +There fell a battle far in the north; +The evil news gaed back and forth, +And back and forth by brae and bent +Hider and hunter cam and went: +The hunter clattered horse-shoe-airn +By causey-crest and hill-top cairn; +The hider, in by shag and shench, +Crept on his wame and little lench. + +The eastland wind blew shrill and snell, +The stars arose, the gloaming fell, +The firelight shone in window and door +When Mr. Frank cam here to shore. +He hirpled up by the links and the lane, +And chappit laigh in the back-door-stane. +My faither gaed, and up wi' his han'! +. . . Is this Mr. Frank, or a beggarman? + +I have mistrysted sair, he said, +But let me into fire and bed; +Let me in, for auld lang syne, +And give me a dram of the brandy wine. + +They hid him in the Bour-Tree Den, +And I thought it strange to gang my lane; +I thought it strange, I thought it sweet, +To gang there on my naked feet. +In the mirk night, when the boats were at sea, +I passed the burn abune the knee; +In the mirk night, when the folks were asleep, +I had a tryst in the den to keep. + +Late and air', when the folks were asleep, +I had a tryst, a tryst to keep, +I had a lad that lippened to me, +And bour-tree blossom is fair to see! + +O' the bour-tree leaves I busked his bed, +The mune was siller, the dawn was red: +Was nae man there but him and me - +And bour-tree blossom is fair to see! + +Unco weather hae we been through: +The mune glowered, and the wind blew, +And the rain it rained on him and me, +And bour-tree blossom is fair to see! + +Dwelling his lane but house or hauld, +Aft he was wet and aft was cauld; +I warmed him wi' my briest and knee - +And bour-tree blossom is fair to see! + +There was nae voice of beast ae man, +But the tree soughed and the burn ran, +And we heard the ae voice of the sea: +Bour-tree blossom is fair to see! + + +SONNETS + +I. + +NOR judge me light, tho' light at times I seem, +And lightly in the stress of fortune bear +The innumerable flaws of changeful care - +Nor judge me light for this, nor rashly deem +(Office forbid to mortals, kept supreme +And separate the prerogative of God!) +That seaman idle who is borne abroad +To the far haven by the favouring stream. +Not he alone that to contrarious seas +Opposes, all night long, the unwearied oar, +Not he alone, by high success endeared, +Shall reach the Port; but, winged, with some light breeze +Shall they, with upright keels, pass in before +Whom easy Taste, the golden pilot, steered. + +II. + +So shall this book wax like unto a well, +Fairy with mirrored flowers about the brim, +Or like some tarn that wailing curlews skim, +Glassing the sallow uplands or brown fell; +And so, as men go down into a dell +(Weary with noon) to find relief and shade, +When on the uneasy sick-bed we are laid, +We shall go down into thy book, and tell +The leaves, once blank, to build again for us +Old summer dead and ruined, and the time +Of later autumn with the corn in stook. +So shalt thou stint the meagre winter thus +Of his projected triumph, and the rime +Shall melt before the sunshine in thy book. + +III. + +I have a hoard of treasure in my breast; +The grange of memory steams against the door, +Full of my bygone lifetime's garnered store - +Old pleasures crowned with sorrow for a zest, +Old sorrow grown a joy, old penance blest, +Chastened remembrance of the sins of yore +That, like a new evangel, more and more +Supports our halting will toward the best. +Ah! what to us the barren after years +May bring of joy or sorrow, who can tell? +O, knowing not, who cares? It may be well +That we shall find old pleasures and old fears, +And our remembered childhood seen thro' tears, +The best of Heaven and the worst of Hell. + +IV. + +As starts the absent dreamer when a train, +Suddenly disengulphed below his feet, +Roars forth into the sunlight, to its seat +My soul was shaken with immediate pain +Intolerable as the scanty breath +Of that one word blew utterly away +The fragile mist of fair deceit that lay +O'er the bleak years that severed me from death. +Yes, at the sight I quailed; but, not unwise +Or not, O God, without some nervous thread +Of that best valour, Patience, bowed my head, +And with firm bosom and most steadfast eyes, +Strong in all high resolve, prepared to tread +The unlovely path that leads me toward the skies. + +V. + +Not undelightful, friend, our rustic ease +To grateful hearts; for by especial hap, +Deep nested in the hill's enormous lap, +With its own ring of walls and grove of trees, +Sits, in deep shelter, our small cottage - nor +Far-off is seen, rose carpeted and hung +With clematis, the quarry whence she sprung, +O mater pulchra filia pulchrior, +Whither in early spring, unharnessed folk, +We join the pairing swallows, glad to stay +Where, loosened in the hills, remote, unseen, +From its tall trees, it breathes a slender smoke +To heaven, and in the noon of sultry day +Stands, coolly buried, to the neck in green. + +VI. + +As in the hostel by the bridge I sate, +Nailed with indifference fondly deemed complete, +And (O strange chance, more sorrowful than sweet) +The counterfeit of her that was my fate, +Dressed in like vesture, graceful and sedate, +Went quietly up the vacant village street, +The still small sound of her most dainty feet +Shook, like a trumpet blast, my soul's estate. +Instant revolt ran riot through my brain, +And all night long, thereafter, hour by hour, +The pageant of dead love before my eyes +Went proudly; and old hopes, broke loose again +From the restraint of wisely temperate power, +With ineffectual ardour sought to rise. + +VII. + +The strong man's hand, the snow-cool head of age, +The certain-footed sympathies of youth - +These, and that lofty passion after truth, +Hunger unsatisfied in priest or sage +Or the great men of former years, he needs +That not unworthily would dare to sing +(Hard task!) black care's inevitable ring +Settling with years upon the heart that feeds +Incessantly on glory. Year by year +The narrowing toil grows closer round his feet; +With disenchanting touch rude-handed time +The unlovely web discloses, and strange fear +Leads him at last to eld's inclement seat, +The bitter north of life - a frozen clime. + +VIII. + +As Daniel, bird-alone, in that far land, +Kneeling in fervent prayer, with heart-sick eyes +Turned thro' the casement toward the westering skies; +Or as untamed Elijah, that red brand +Among the starry prophets; or that band +And company of Faithful sanctities +Who in all times, when persecutions rise, +Cherish forgotten creeds with fostering hand: +Such do ye seem to me, light-hearted crew, +O turned to friendly arts with all your will, +That keep a little chapel sacred still, +One rood of Holy-land in this bleak earth +Sequestered still (our homage surely due!) +To the twin Gods of mirthful wine and mirth. + +About my fields, in the broad sun +And blaze of noon, there goeth one, +Barefoot and robed in blue, to scan +With the hard eye of the husbandman +My harvests and my cattle. Her, +When even puts the birds astir +And day has set in the great woods, +We seek, among her garden roods, +With bells and cries in vain: the while +Lamps, plate, and the decanter smile +On the forgotten board. But she, +Deaf, blind, and prone on face and knee, +Forgets time, family, and feast, +And digs like a demented beast. + +Tall as a guardsman, pale as the east at dawn, +Who strides in strange apparel on the lawn? +Rails for his breakfast? routs his vassals out +(Like boys escaped from school) with song and shout? +Kind and unkind, his Maker's final freak, +Part we deride the child, part dread the antique! +See where his gang, like frogs, among the dew +Crouch at their duty, an unquiet crew; +Adjust their staring kilts; and their swift eyes +Turn still to him who sits to supervise. +He in the midst, perched on a fallen tree, +Eyes them at labour; and, guitar on knee, +Now ministers alarm, now scatters joy, +Now twangs a halting chord, now tweaks a boy. +Thorough in all, my resolute vizier +Plays both the despot and the volunteer, +Exacts with fines obedience to my laws, +And for his music, too, exacts applause. + +The Adorner of the uncomely - those +Amidst whose tall battalions goes +Her pretty person out and in +All day with an endearing din, +Of censure and encouragement; +And when all else is tried in vain +See her sit down and weep again. +She weeps to conquer; +She varies on her grenadiers +From satire up to girlish tears! + +Or rather to behold her when +She plies for me the unresting pen, +And when the loud assault of squalls +Resounds upon the roof and walls, +And the low thunder growls and I +Raise my dictating voice on high. + +What glory for a boy of ten +Who now must three gigantic men +And two enormous, dapple grey +New Zealand pack-horses array +And lead, and wisely resolute +Our day-long business execute +In the far shore-side town. His soul +Glows in his bosom like a coal; +His innocent eyes glitter again, +And his hand trembles on the rein. +Once he reviews his whole command, +And chivalrously planting hand +On hip - a borrowed attitude - +Rides off downhill into the wood. + +I meanwhile in the populous house apart +Sit snugly chambered, and my silent art +Uninterrupted, unremitting ply +Before the dawn, by morning lamplight, by +The glow of smelting noon, and when the sun +Dips past my westering hill and day is done; +So, bending still over my trade of words, +I hear the morning and the evening birds, +The morning and the evening stars behold; +So there apart I sit as once of old +Napier in wizard Merchiston; and my +Brown innocent aides in home and husbandry +Wonder askance. What ails the boss? they ask. +Him, richest of the rich, an endless task +Before the earliest birds or servants stir +Calls and detains him daylong prisoner? +He whose innumerable dollars hewed +This cleft in the boar and devil-haunted wood, +And bade therein, from sun to seas and skies, +His many-windowed, painted palace rise +Red-roofed, blue-walled, a rainbow on the hill, +A wonder in the forest glade: he still, + +Unthinkable Aladdin, dawn and dark, +Scribbles and scribbles, like a German clerk. +We see the fact, but tell, O tell us why? +My reverend washman and wise butler cry. +Meanwhile at times the manifold +Imperishable perfumes of the past +And coloured pictures rise on me thick and fast: +And I remember the white rime, the loud +Lamplitten city, shops, and the changing crowd; +And I remember home and the old time, +The winding river, the white moving rhyme, +The autumn robin by the river-side +That pipes in the grey eve. + +The old lady (so they say), but I +Admire your young vitality. +Still brisk of foot, still busy and keen +In and about and up and down. + +I hear you pass with bustling feet +The long verandahs round, and beat +Your bell, and "Lotu! Lotu!" cry; +Thus calling our queer company, +In morning or in evening dim, +To prayers and the oft mangled hymn. + +All day you watch across the sky +The silent, shining cloudlands ply, +That, huge as countries, swift as birds, +Beshade the isles by halves and thirds, +Till each with battlemented crest +Stands anchored in the ensanguined west, +An Alp enchanted. All the day +You hear the exuberant wind at play, +In vast, unbroken voice uplift, +In roaring tree, round whistling clift. + + +AIR OF DIABELLI'S + + +CALL it to mind, O my love. +Dear were your eyes as the day, +Bright as the day and the sky; +Like the stream of gold and the sky above, +Dear were your eyes in the grey. +We have lived, my love, O, we have lived, my love! +Now along the silent river, azure +Through the sky's inverted image, +Softly swam the boat that bore our love, +Swiftly ran the shallow of our love +Through the heaven's inverted image, +In the reedy mazes round the river. +See along the silent river, + +See of old the lover's shallop steer. +Berried brake and reedy island, +Heaven below and only heaven above. +Through the sky's inverted image +Swiftly swam the boat that bore our love. +Berried brake and reedy island, +Mirrored flower and shallop gliding by. +All the earth and all the sky were ours, +Silent sat the wafted lovers, +Bound with grain and watched by all the sky, +Hand to hand and eye to . . . eye. + +Days of April, airs of Eden, +Call to mind how bright the vanished angel hours, +Golden hours of evening, +When our boat drew homeward filled with flowers. +O darling, call them to mind; love the past, my love. +Days of April, airs of Eden. +How the glory died through golden hours, +And the shining moon arising; +How the boat drew homeward filled with flowers. +Age and winter close us slowly in. + +Level river, cloudless heaven, +Islanded reed mazes, silver weirs; +How the silent boat with silver +Threads the inverted forest as she goes, +Broke the trembling green of mirrored trees. +O, remember, and remember +How the berries hung in garlands. + +Still in the river see the shallop floats. +Hark! Chimes the falling oar. +Still in the mind +Hark to the song of the past! +Dream, and they pass in their dreams. + +Those that loved of yore, O those that loved of yore! +Hark through the stillness, O darling, hark! +Through it all the ear of the mind + +Knows the boat of love. Hark! +Chimes the falling oar. + +O half in vain they grew old. + +Now the halcyon days are over, +Age and winter close us slowly round, +And these sounds at fall of even +Dim the sight and muffle all the sound. +And at the married fireside, sleep of soul and sleep of fancy, +Joan and Darby. +Silence of the world without a sound; +And beside the winter faggot + +Joan and Darby sit and dose and dream and wake - +Dream they hear the flowing, singing river, +See the berries in the island brake; +Dream they hear the weir, +See the gliding shallop mar the stream. +Hark! in your dreams do you hear? + +Snow has filled the drifted forest; +Ice has bound the . . . stream. +Frost has bound our flowing river; +Snow has whitened all our island brake. + +Berried brake and reedy island, +Heaven below and only heaven above azure +Through the sky's inverted image +Safely swam the boat that bore our love. +Dear were your eyes as the day, +Bright ran the stream, bright hung the sky above. +Days of April, airs of Eden. +How the glory died through golden hours, +And the shining moon arising, +How the boat drew homeward filled with flowers. +Bright were your eyes in the night: +We have lived, my love; +O, we have loved, my love. +Now the . . . days are over, +Age and winter close us slowly round. + +Vainly time departs, and vainly +Age and winter come and close us round. + +Hark the river's long continuous sound. + +Hear the river ripples in the reeds. + +Lo, in dreams they see their shallop +Run the lilies down and drown the weeds +Mid the sound of crackling faggots. +So in dreams the new created +Happy past returns, to-day recedes, +And they hear once more, + +From the old years, +Yesterday returns, to-day recedes, +And they hear with aged hearing warbles + +Love's own river ripple in the weeds. +And again the lover's shallop; +Lo, the shallop sheds the streaming weeds; +And afar in foreign countries +In the ears of aged lovers. + +And again in winter evens +Starred with lilies . . . with stirring weeds. +In these ears of aged lovers +Love's own river ripples in the reeds. + + +EPITAPHIUM EROTII + + +HERE lies Erotion, whom at six years old +Fate pilfered. Stranger (when I too am cold, +Who shall succeed me in my rural field), +To this small spirit annual honours yield! +Bright be thy hearth, hale be thy babes, I crave +And this, in thy green farm, the only grave. + + +DE M. ANTONIO + + +NOW Antoninus, in a smiling age, +Counts of his life the fifteenth finished stage. +The rounded days and the safe years he sees, +Nor fears death's water mounting round his knees. +To him remembering not one day is sad, +Not one but that its memory makes him glad. +So good men lengthen life; and to recall +The past is to have twice enjoyed it all. + + +AD MAGISTRUM LUDI +(UNFINISHED DRAFT.) + + +NOW in the sky +And on the hearth of +Now in a drawer the direful cane, +That sceptre of the . . . reign, +And the long hawser, that on the back +Of Marsyas fell with many a whack, +Twice hardened out of Scythian hides, +Now sleep till the October ides. + +In summer if the boys be well. + + +AD NEPOTEM + + +O NEPOS, twice my neigh(b)our (since at home +We're door by door, by Flora's temple dome; +And in the country, still conjoined by fate, +Behold our villas standing gate by gate), +Thou hast a daughter, dearer far than life - +Thy image and the image of thy wife. +Thy image and thy wife's, and be it so! + +But why for her, { neglect the flowing } can + { O Nepos, leave the } + +And lose the prime of thy Falernian? +Hoard casks of money, if to hoard be thine; +But let thy daughter drink a younger wine! +Let her go rich and wise, in silk and fur; + +Lay down a { bin that shall } grow old with her; + { vintage to } + +But thou, meantime, the while the batch is sound, +With pleased companions pass the bowl around; +Nor let the childless only taste delights, +For Fathers also may enjoy their nights. + + +IN CHARIDEMUM + + +YOU, Charidemus, who my cradle swung, +And watched me all the days that I was young; +You, at whose step the laziest slaves awake, +And both the bailiff and the butler quake; +The barber's suds now blacken with my beard, +And my rough kisses make the maids afeared; +But with reproach your awful eyebrows twitch, +And for the cane, I see, your fingers itch. +If something daintily attired I go, +Straight you exclaim: "Your father did not so." +And fuming, count the bottles on the board +As though my cellar were your private hoard. +Enough, at last: I have done all I can, +And your own mistress hails me for a man. + + +DE LIGURRA + + +YOU fear, Ligurra - above all, you long - +That I should smite you with a stinging song. +This dreadful honour you both fear and hope - +Both all in vain: you fall below my scope. +The Lybian lion tears the roaring bull, +He does not harm the midge along the pool. + +Lo! if so close this stands in your regard, +From some blind tap fish forth a drunken barn, +Who shall with charcoal, on the privy wall, +Immortalise your name for once and all. + + +IN LUPUM + + +BEYOND the gates thou gav'st a field to till; +I have a larger on my window-sill. +A farm, d'ye say? Is this a farm to you, +Where for all woods I spay one tuft of rue, +And that so rusty, and so small a thing, +One shrill cicada hides it with a wing; +Where one cucumber covers all the plain; +And where one serpent rings himself in vain +To enter wholly; and a single snail +Eats all and exit fasting to the pool? +Here shall my gardener be the dusty mole. +My only ploughman the . . . mole. +Here shall I wait in vain till figs be set, +And till the spring disclose the violet. +Through all my wilds a tameless mouse careers, +And in that narrow boundary appears, +Huge as the stalking lion of Algiers, +Huge as the fabled boar of Calydon. +And all my hay is at one swoop impresst +By one low-flying swallow for her nest, +Strip god Priapus of each attribute +Here finds he scarce a pedestal to foot. +The gathered harvest scarcely brims a spoon; +And all my vintage drips in a cocoon. +Generous are you, but I more generous still: +Take back your farm and stand me half a gill! + + +AD QUINTILIANUM + + +O CHIEF director of the growing race, +Of Rome the glory and of Rome the grace, +Me, O Quintilian, may you not forgive +Before from labour I make haste to live? +Some burn to gather wealth, lay hands on rule, +Or with white statues fill the atrium full. +The talking hearth, the rafters sweet with smoke, +Live fountains and rough grass, my line invoke: +A sturdy slave, not too learned wife, +Nights filled with slumber, and a quiet life. + + +DE HORTIS JULII MARTIALIS + + +MY Martial owns a garden, famed to please, +Beyond the glades of the Hesperides; +Along Janiculum lies the chosen block +Where the cool grottos trench the hanging rock. +The moderate summit, something plain and bare, +Tastes overhead of a serener air; +And while the clouds besiege the vales below, +Keeps the clear heaven and doth with sunshine glow. +To the June stars that circle in the skies +The dainty roofs of that tall villa rise. +Hence do the seven imperial hills appear; +And you may view the whole of Rome from here; +Beyond, the Alban and the Tuscan hills; +And the cool groves and the cool falling rills, +Rubre Fidenae, and with virgin blood +Anointed once Perenna's orchard wood. +Thence the Flaminian, the Salarian way, +Stretch far broad below the dome of day; +And lo! the traveller toiling towards his home; +And all unheard, the chariot speeds to Rome! +For here no whisper of the wheels; and tho' +The Mulvian Bridge, above the Tiber's flow, +Hangs all in sight, and down the sacred stream +The sliding barges vanish like a dream, +The seaman's shrilling pipe not enters here, +Nor the rude cries of porters on the pier. +And if so rare the house, how rarer far +The welcome and the weal that therein are! +So free the access, the doors so widely thrown, +You half imagine all to be your own. + + +AD MARTIALEM + + +GO(D) knows, my Martial, if we two could be +To enjoy our days set wholly free; +To the true life together bend our mind, +And take a furlough from the falser kind. +No rich saloon, nor palace of the great, +Nor suit at law should trouble our estate; +On no vainglorious statues should we look, +But of a walk, a talk, a little book, +Baths, wells and meads, and the veranda shade, +Let all our travels and our toils be made. +Now neither lives unto himself, alas! +And the good suns we see, that flash and pass +And perish; and the bell that knells them cries: +"Another gone: O when will ye arise?" + + +IN MAXIMUM + + +WOULDST thou be free? I think it not, indeed; +But if thou wouldst, attend this simple rede: +When quite contented }thou canst dine at home +Thou shall be free when } +And drink a small wine of the march of Rome; +When thou canst see unmoved thy neighbour's plate, +And wear my threadbare toga in the gate; +When thou hast learned to love a small abode, +And not to choose a mistress A LA MODE: +When thus contained and bridled thou shalt be, +Then, Maximus, then first shalt thou be free. + + +AD OLUM + + +CALL me not rebel, though { here at every word + {in what I sing +If I no longer hail thee { King and Lord + { Lord and King +I have redeemed myself with all I had, +And now possess my fortunes poor but glad. +With all I had I have redeemed myself, +And escaped at once from slavery and pelf. +The unruly wishes must a ruler take, +Our high desires do our low fortunes make: +Those only who desire palatial things +Do bear the fetters and the frowns of Kings; +Set free thy slave; thou settest free thyself. + + +DE COENATIONE MICAE + + +LOOK round: You see a little supper room; +But from my window, lo! great Caesar's tomb! +And the great dead themselves, with jovial breath +Bid you be merry and remember death. + + +DE EROTIO PUELLA + + +THIS girl was sweeter than the song of swans, +And daintier than the lamb upon the lawns +Or Curine oyster. She, the flower of girls, +Outshone the light of Erythraean pearls; +The teeth of India that with polish glow, +The untouched lilies or the morning snow. +Her tresses did gold-dust outshine +And fair hair of women of the Rhine. +Compared to her the peacock seemed not fair, +The squirrel lively, or the phoenix rare; +Her on whose pyre the smoke still hovering waits; +Her whom the greedy and unequal fates +On the sixth dawning of her natal day, +My child-love and my playmate - snatcht away. + + +AD PISCATOREM + + +FOR these are sacred fishes all +Who know that lord that is the lord of all; +Come to the brim and nose the friendly hand +That sways and can beshadow all the land. +Nor only so, but have their names, and come +When they are summoned by the Lord of Rome. +Here once his line an impious Lybian threw; +And as with tremulous reed his prey he drew, +Straight, the light failed him. +He groped, nor found the prey that he had ta'en. +Now as a warning to the fisher clan +Beside the lake he sits, a beggarman. +Thou, then, while still thine innocence is pure, +Flee swiftly, nor presume to set thy lure; +Respect these fishes, for their friends are great; +And in the waters empty all thy bait. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of New Poems by Robert Louis Stevenson + diff --git a/old/rlsnp10.zip b/old/rlsnp10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a12a03 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rlsnp10.zip |