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diff --git a/old/52898-h/52898-h.htm b/old/52898-h/52898-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index a465505..0000000 --- a/old/52898-h/52898-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4042 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> - <head> <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Magic House, by Duncan Campbell Scott. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - -.r {text-align:right;margin-right: 5%;} - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - -big {font-size: 130%;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:100%;} - - h3 {margin-top:1%;margin-bottom:1%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:80%;} - - hr {width:90%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} - - body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.spc {padding-left:2em;} - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} - - img {border:none;} - -.blockquot p{margin-left:4%;text-indent:-2%;} - -.figcenter {margin-top:3%;margin-bottom:3%;clear:both; -margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - @media print, handheld - {.figcenter - {page-break-before: avoid;} - } - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:90%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -@media print, handheld -{.pagenum - {display: none;} - } - -.lftspc {margin-left:.075em;} -</style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's The Magic House and Other Poems, by Duncan Campbell Scott - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Magic House and Other Poems - -Author: Duncan Campbell Scott - -Release Date: August 25, 2016 [EBook #52898] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGIC HOUSE AND OTHER POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Books project.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="311" height="500" alt="" title="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_i" id="page_i"></a>{i}</span></p> - -<p class="cb">THE MAGIC HOUSE</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii"></a>{ii}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii"></a>{iii}</span> </p> - -<h1> -THE MAGIC HOUSE<br /> - -<small>A N D O T H E R P O E M S</small></h1> - -<p class="c"> -BY<br /> -<br /> -DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT<br /> -<br /> -<img src="images/colophon.png" -width="40" -height="53" -alt="[Image of colophon unavailable.]" - /><br /> -<br /> -METHUEN AND CO.<br /> -18 BURY STREET, W.C.<br /> -LONDON<br /> -1893<br /> -<br /><br /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv"></a>{iv}</span><br /> -<small>Edinburgh: T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty</small></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v"></a>{v}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi"></a>{vi}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii"></a>{vii}</span> </p> - -<p class="c"> -TO<br /> -<br /> -MY MOTHER<br /> -<br /> -<img src="images/colophon2.png" -width="18" -height="34" -alt="[Image of colophon unavailable.]" -/></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii"></a>{viii}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ix" id="page_ix"></a>{ix}</span> </p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td></td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_LITTLE_SONG">A LITTLE SONG</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The sunset in the rosy west,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_HILL_PATH">THE HILL PATH</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Are the little breezes blind,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_2">2</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_VOICE_AND_THE_DUSK">THE VOICE AND THE DUSK</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The slender moon and one pale star,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_5">5</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#FOR_REMEMBRANCE">FOR REMEMBRANCE</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">It would be sweet to think when we are old,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_7">7</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_MESSAGE">THE MESSAGE</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Wind of the gentle summer night,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_8">8</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_SILENCE_OF_LOVE">THE SILENCE OF LOVE</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">My heart would need the earth,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#AN_IMPROMPTU">AN IMPROMPTU</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The stars are in the ebon sky,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_x" id="page_x"></a>{x}</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_11">11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#FROM_THE_FARM_ON_THE_HILL">FROM THE FARM ON THE HILL</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The night wind moves the gloom,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#AT_SCARBORO_BEACH">AT SCARBORO’ BEACH</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The wave is over the foaming reef,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_FIFTEENTH_OF_APRIL">THE FIFTEENTH OF APRIL</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Pallid saffron glows the broken stubble,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_17">17</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#IN_AN_OLD_QUARRY">IN AN OLD QUARRY</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Above the lifeless pools the mist films swim,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#TO_WINTER1">TO WINTER</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Come, O thou conqueror of the flying year,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_20">20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#TO_WINTER2">TO WINTER</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Come, O thou season of intense repose,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_21">21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_IDEAL">THE IDEAL</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Let your soul grow a thing apart,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_SUMMER_STORM">A SUMMER STORM</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Last night a storm fell on the world,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#LIFE_AND_DEATH">LIFE AND DEATH</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">I thought of death beside the lonely sea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xi" id="page_xi"></a>{xi}</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#IN_THE_COUNTRY_CHURCHYARD">IN THE COUNTRY CHURCHYARD</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">This is the acre of unfathomed rest,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_26">26</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SONG1">SONG</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">I have done,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_MAGIC_HOUSE">THE MAGIC HOUSE</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">In her chamber, wheresoe’er,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_33">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_DREAMS">IN THE HOUSE OF DREAMS</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The lady Lillian knelt upon the sward,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_36">36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_RIVER_TOWN">THE RIVER TOWN</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">There’s a town where shadows run,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_38">38</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#OFF_THE_ISLE_AUX_COUDRES">OFF THE ISLE AUX COUDRES</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The moon, Capella, and the Pleiades,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#AT_LES_EBOULEMENTS">AT LES EBOULEMENTS</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The bay is set with ashy sails,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#ABOVE_ST_IRENEE">ABOVE ST. IRÉNÉE</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">I rested on the breezy height,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#WRITTEN_IN_A_COPY_OF_ARCHIBALD_LAMPMANS_POEMS">WRITTEN IN A. LAMPMAN’S POEMS</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">When April moved in maiden guise,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xii" id="page_xii"></a>{xii}</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#OFF_RIVIERE_DU_LOUP">OFF RIVIÈRE DU LOUP</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">O ship incoming from the sea,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_48">48</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#AT_THE_CEDARS">AT THE CEDARS</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">You had two girls—Baptiste—</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_END_OF_THE_DAY">THE END OF THE DAY</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">I hear the bells at eventide,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_REED-PLAYER">THE REED-PLAYER</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">By a dim shore where water darkening,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_FLOCK_OF_SHEEP">A FLOCK OF SHEEP</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Over the field the bright air clings and tingles,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_PORTRAIT">A PORTRAIT</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">All her hair is softly set,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#AT_THE_LATTICE">AT THE LATTICE</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Good-night, Marie, I kiss thine eyes,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_FIRST_SNOW">THE FIRST SNOW</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The field pools gathered into frosted lace,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_64">64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#IN_NOVEMBER">IN NOVEMBER</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The ruddy sunset lies,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xiii" id="page_xiii"></a>{xiii}</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#THE_SLEEPER">THE SLEEPER</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Touched with some divine repose,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_68">68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_NIGHT_IN_JUNE">A NIGHT IN JUNE</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The world is heated seven times,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#MEMORY">MEMORY</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">I see a schooner in the bay,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_72">72</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#YOUTH_AND_TIME">YOUTH AND TIME</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Move not so lightly, Time, away,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_73">73</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_MEMORY_OF_THE_INFERNO">A MEMORY OF THE ‘INFERNO’</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">An hour before the dawn I dreamed of you,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_74">74</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#LA_BELLE_FERONIERE">LA BELLE FERONIÈRE,</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">I never trod where Leonardo was,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_NOVEMBER_DAY">A NOVEMBER DAY</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">There are no clouds above the world,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_76">76</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#OTTAWA">OTTAWA</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">City about whose brow the north winds blow,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SONG2">SONG</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Here’s the last rose,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xiv" id="page_xiv"></a>{xiv}</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_79">79</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#NIGHT_AND_THE_PINES">NIGHT AND THE PINES</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Here in the pine shade is the nest of night,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_80">80</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#A_NIGHT_IN_MARCH">A NIGHT IN MARCH</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">At eve the fiery sun went forth,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_82">82</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#SEPTEMBER">SEPTEMBER</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">The morns are grey with haze and faintly cold,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#BY_THE_WILLOW_SPRING">BY THE WILLOW SPRING</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="spc">Come hither, Care, and look on this fair place,</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1"></a>{1}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_LITTLE_SONG" id="A_LITTLE_SONG"></a>A LITTLE SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> sunset in the rosy west<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Burned soft and high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shore-lark fell like a stone to his nest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the waving rye.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A wind came over the garden beds<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the dreamy lawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pansies nodded their purple heads,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The poppies began to yawn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One pansy said: It is only sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Only his gentle breath:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a rose lay strewn in a snowy heap,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the rose it was only death.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Heigho, we’ve only one life to live,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And only one death to die:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Good-morrow, new world, have you nothing to give?—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Good-bye, old world, good-bye.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2"></a>{2}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_HILL_PATH" id="THE_HILL_PATH"></a>THE HILL PATH<br /><br /> -<small>TO H.D.S.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Are</span> the little breezes blind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They that push me as they pass?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do they search the tangled grass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For some path they want to find?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Take my fingers, little wind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are all alone, and I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Am alone too. I will guide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You will follow; let us go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By a pathway that I know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leading down the steep hillside,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Past the little sharp-lipped pools,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shrunken with the summer sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sparrows come to drink;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we’ll scare the little birds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Coming on them unawares;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the daisies every one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3"></a>{3}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">We will startle on the brink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a doze.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Gently, gently, little wind),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Very soon a wood we’ll see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There my lover waits for me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Go more gently, little wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You should follow soft, behind.)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You will hear my lover say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How he loves me night and day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But his words you must not tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the other little winds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For they all might come to hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And might rustle through the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And disturb the solitude.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Blow more softly, little wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are tossing all my hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go more gently, have a care;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If you lead you can’t be blind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So,—good-bye:)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There he goes: I see his feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the grass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the little pools are blurred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As they pass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he must be very fleet,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4"></a>{4}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I see the bushes stirred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Near the wood. I hope he’ll tell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If he isn’t out of breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That he met me on the hill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I hope he will not say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That he kissed me for good-bye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just before he flew away.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5"></a>{5}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_VOICE_AND_THE_DUSK" id="THE_VOICE_AND_THE_DUSK"></a>THE VOICE AND THE DUSK</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> slender moon and one pale star,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A rose-leaf and a silver bee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From some god’s garden blown afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Go down the gold deep tranquilly.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Within the south there rolls and grows<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A mighty town with tower and spire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From a cloud bastion masked with rose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lightning flashes diamond fire.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The purple-martin darts about<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The purlieus of the iris fen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The king-bird rushes up and out,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He screams and whirls and screams again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A thrush is hidden in a maze<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of cedar buds and tamarac bloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He throws his rapid flexile phrase,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A flash of emeralds in the gloom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6"></a>{6}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A voice is singing from the hill<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A happy love of long ago;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah! tender voice, be still, be still,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis sometimes better not to know.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The rapture from the amber height<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Floats tremblingly along the plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where in the reeds with fairy light<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lingering fireflies gleam again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Buried in dingles more remote,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or drifted from some ferny rise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The swooning of the golden throat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Drops in the mellow dusk and dies.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A soft wind passes lightly drawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A wave leaps silverly and stirs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rustling sedge, and then is gone<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down the black cavern in the firs.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7"></a>{7}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="FOR_REMEMBRANCE" id="FOR_REMEMBRANCE"></a>FOR REMEMBRANCE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">It</span> would be sweet to think when we are old<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of all the pleasant days that came to pass,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That here we took the berries from the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There charmed the bees with pans, and smoke unrolled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And spread the melon nets when nights were cold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or pulled the blood-root in the underbrush,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And marked the ringing of the tawny thrush,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While all the west was broken burning gold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And so I bind with rhymes these memories;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As girls press pansies in the poet’s leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And find them afterwards with sweet surprise;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or treasure petals mingled with perfume,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loosing them in the days when April grieves,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A subtle summer in the rainy room.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8"></a>{8}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_MESSAGE" id="THE_MESSAGE"></a>THE MESSAGE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Wind</span> of the gentle summer night,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dwell in the lilac tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sway the blossoms clustered light,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then blow over to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind, you are sometimes strong and great,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You frighten the ships at sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now come floating your delicate freight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Out of the lilac tree.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind, you must waver a gossamer sail<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To ferry a scent so light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will you carry my love a message as frail<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through the hawk-haunted night?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For my heart is sometimes strange and wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bitter and bold and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I scare the beautiful timid child,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As you frighten the ships at sea;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9"></a>{9}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But now when the hawks are piercing the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the golden stars above,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The only thing my heart can bear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is a lilac message of love.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gentle wind, will you carry this<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up to her window white;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give her a gentle tender kiss,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bid her good-night—good-night.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10"></a>{10}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SILENCE_OF_LOVE" id="THE_SILENCE_OF_LOVE"></a>THE SILENCE OF LOVE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">My</span> heart would need the earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My voice would need the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To only tell the one half<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How dear you are to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And if I had the winds,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The stars and the planets as well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I might tell the other half,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or perhaps I would try to tell.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11"></a>{11}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="AN_IMPROMPTU" id="AN_IMPROMPTU"></a>AN IMPROMPTU</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> stars are in the ebon sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Burning, gold, alone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind roars over the rolling earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like water over a stone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We are like things in a river-bed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The stream runs over,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They see the iris, and arrowhead,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Anemone, and clover.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But they cannot touch the shining things,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For all their strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the strong river swirls and swings—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And that is much like life.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For life is a plunging and heavy stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And there’s something bright above;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the ills of breathing only seem,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When we know the light is love.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12"></a>{12}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The stars are in the ebon sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Burning, gold, alone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind roars over the rolling earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like water over a stone.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13"></a>{13}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="FROM_THE_FARM_ON_THE_HILL" id="FROM_THE_FARM_ON_THE_HILL"></a>FROM THE FARM ON THE HILL<br /><br /> -<small>TO A.P.S.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> night wind moves the gloom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the shadowy basswood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mysteriously the leaves sway and sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So slow, so tender is the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The slender elm-tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is hardly stirred.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sky is veiled with clouds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With diaphanous tissue;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through their dissolving films<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stars shine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But how infinitely removed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How inaccessible!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the distant city<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the obscure towers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lights of watchers gleam;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14"></a>{14}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the dim fields<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At intervals in the silence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cuckoo utters<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A distorted cry;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the low woods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Haunted with vain melancholy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A whip-poor-will wanders,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forcing his monotonous song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All the ancient desire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the human spirit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has returned upon me in this hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the wild longing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That cannot be satisfied.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Break, O anguish of nature,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into some glorious sound!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let me touch the next circle of being,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I have compassed this life.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15"></a>{15}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="AT_SCARBORO_BEACH" id="AT_SCARBORO_BEACH"></a>AT SCARBORO’ BEACH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> wave is over the foaming reef<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leaping alive in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seaward the opal sails are blown<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Vanishing one by one.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis leagues around the blue sea curve<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the sunny coast of Spain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the ships that sail so deftly out<br /></span> -<span class="i2">May never come home again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A mist is wreathed round Richmond point,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There’s a shadow on the land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the sea is in the splendid sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Plunging so careless and grand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sandpipers trip on the glassy beach,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ready to mount and fly;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whenever a ripple reaches their feet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They rise with a timorous cry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16"></a>{16}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take care, they pipe, take care, take care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For this is the treacherous main,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though you may sail so deftly out,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You may never come home again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17"></a>{17}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_FIFTEENTH_OF_APRIL" id="THE_FIFTEENTH_OF_APRIL"></a>THE FIFTEENTH OF APRIL<br /><br /> -<small>TO A.L.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Pallid</span> saffron glows the broken stubble,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Brimmed with silver lie the ruts,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Purple the ploughed hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down a sluice with break and bubble<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Hollow falls the rill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Falls and spreads and searches,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where, beyond the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Starts a group of silver birches,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bursting into bud.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Under Venus sings the vesper sparrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down a path of rosy gold<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Floats the slender moon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ringing from the rounded barrow<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Rolls the robin’s tune;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18"></a>{18}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lighter than the robin; hark!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Quivering silver-strong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the field a hidden shore-lark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shakes his sparkling song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now the dewy sounds begin to dwindle,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dimmer grow the burnished rills,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Breezes creep and halt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon the guardian night shall kindle<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In the violet vault,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the twinkling tapers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Touched with steady gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burning through the lawny vapours<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where they float and fold.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19"></a>{19}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="IN_AN_OLD_QUARRY" id="IN_AN_OLD_QUARRY"></a>IN AN OLD QUARRY<br /><br /> -<small>NOVEMBER</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Above</span> the lifeless pools the mist films swim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the lowlands where sedges chaff and nod;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The withered fringes of the golden-rod<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hang frayed and formless at the quarry’s rim.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Filled with the wine of sunset to the brim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These limestone pits are cups for the night god,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Set for his lips when he strays hither, shod<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With shadows, all the stars following him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as gloom grows and deepens like a psalm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This broken field which summer has passed by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has caught the ultimate lethean calm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fabulous quiet of far Thessaly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though the land has lost the bloom and balm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nature is all content in liberty.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20"></a>{20}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_WINTER1" id="TO_WINTER1"></a>TO WINTER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Come</span>, O thou conqueror of the flying year;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come from thy fastness of the Arctic suns;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mass on the purple waste and wide frontier<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy wanish hosts and silver clarions.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then heap this sombre shoulder of the world<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With shifting bastions; let thy storm winds blare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drift wide thy pallid gonfalon unfurled;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And arm with daggers all the desperate air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">These are but raids in dreams, and friendly brawls;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou art a gentle giant that half sleeps,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blusters grandly to his frozen thralls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The more to charm them with the wealth he keeps:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We hardly hear thy bluff and hearty word,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When over the first flower sings the first bird.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21"></a>{21}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_WINTER2" id="TO_WINTER2"></a>TO WINTER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Come</span>, O thou season of intense repose;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come with thy lidded eyes and crystal breath;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come gently with thy soft release of snows;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bring thy few short months of tender death.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Build a huge tomb within the desert frore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With green clear chambers in the icy rift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Carve the sleep rune above the crystal door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And trench a legend in the pallid drift.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let the large stars about the horizon lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watching the confines of the world’s great sleep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spread the vast province of the purple sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With thy wan curtains dropped from deep to deep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then hush the stir and bid the movement cease;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pass gently, leave the tired world in peace.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22"></a>{22}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_IDEAL" id="THE_IDEAL"></a>THE IDEAL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Let</span> your soul grow a thing apart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Untroubled by the restless day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sublimed by some unconscious art,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Controlled by some divine delay.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For life is greater than they think,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who fret along its shallow bars:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swing out the boom to float or sink<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And front the ocean and the stars.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23"></a>{23}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_SUMMER_STORM" id="A_SUMMER_STORM"></a>A SUMMER STORM</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Last</span> night a storm fell on the world<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From heights of drouth and heat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The surly clouds for weeks were furled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The air could only sway and beat,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The beetles clattered at the blind,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The hawks fell twanging from the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The west unrolled a feathery wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the night fell sullenly.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The storm leaped roaring from its lair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like the shadow of doom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The poignard lightning searched the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The thunder ripped the shattered gloom,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The rain came down with a roar like fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Full-voiced and clamorous and deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weary world had its heart’s desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And fell asleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24"></a>{24}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now in the morning early,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The clouds are sailing by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clearly, oh! so clearly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The distant mountains lie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wind is very mild and slow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The clouds obey his will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They part and part and onward go,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Travelling together still.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis very sweet to be alive,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On a morning that’s so fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For nothing seems to stir or strive,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the unconscious air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A tawny thrush is in the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ringing so wild and free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only one bird has a blither mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The white-throat on the tree.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25"></a>{25}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="LIFE_AND_DEATH" id="LIFE_AND_DEATH"></a>LIFE AND DEATH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I thought</span> of death beside the lonely sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That went beyond the limit of my sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeming the image of his mastery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The semblance of his huge and gloomy might.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But firm beneath the sea went the great earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sober bulk and adamantine hold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The water but a mantle for her girth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That played about her splendour fold on fold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And life seemed like this dear familiar shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That stretched from the wet sands’ last wavy crease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the sea’s remote and sombre roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To inland stillness and the wilds of peace.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Death seems triumphant only here and there;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life is the sovereign presence everywhere.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26"></a>{26}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="IN_THE_COUNTRY_CHURCHYARD" id="IN_THE_COUNTRY_CHURCHYARD"></a>IN THE COUNTRY CHURCHYARD<br /><br /> -<small>TO THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">This</span> is the acre of unfathomed rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">These stones, with weed and lichen bound, enclose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No active grief, no uncompleted woes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But only finished work and harboured quest,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And balm for ills;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the last gold that smote the ashen west<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Lies garnered here between the harvest hills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This spot has never known the heat of toil,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Save when the angel with the mighty spade<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Has turned the sod and built the house of shade;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But here old chance is guardian of the soil;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Green leaf and grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The barrows blossom with the tangled spoil,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And God’s own weeds are fair in God’s own way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27"></a>{27}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sweet flowers may gather in the ferny wood:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hepaticas, the morning stars of spring;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bloodroots with their milder ministering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like planets in the lonelier solitude;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And that white throng,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which shakes the dingles with a starry brood,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And tells the robin his forgotten song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">These flowers may rise amid the dewy fern,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They may not root within this antique wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The dead have chosen for their coronal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No buds that flaunt of life and flare and burn;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">They have agreed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To choose a beauty puritan and stern,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The universal grass, the homely weed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is the paradise of common things,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The scourged and trampled here find peace to grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The frost to furrow and the wind to sow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mighty sun to time their blossomings;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And now they keep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A crown reflowering on the tombs of kings,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Who earned their triumph and have claimed their sleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28"></a>{28}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yea, each is here a prince in his own right,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who dwelt disguised amid the multitude,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And when his time was come, in haughty mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shook off his motley and reclaimed his might;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">His sombre throne<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the vast province of perpetual night,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">He holds secure, inviolate, alone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The poor forgets that ever he was poor,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The priest has lost his science of the truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The maid her beauty, and the youth his youth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The statesman has forgot his subtle lure,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The old his age,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sick his suffering, and the leech his cure,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The poet his perplexed and vacant page.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">These swains that tilled the uplands in the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have all forgot the field’s familiar face,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And lie content within this ancient place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whereto when hands were tired their thought would run<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To dream of rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the last furrow was turned down, and won<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The last harsh harvest from the earth’s patient breast.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29"></a>{29}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O dwellers in the valley vast and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I would that calling from your tranquil clime,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You make a truce for me with cruel time;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I am weary of this eager care<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That never dies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would be born into your tranquil air,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Your deserts crowned and sovereign silences.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I would, but that the world is beautiful,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I am more in love with the sliding years,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They have not brought me frantic joy or tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But only moderate state and temperate rule;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Not to forget<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This quiet beauty, not to be Time’s fool,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I will be man a little longer yet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For lo, what beauty crowns the harvest hills!—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The buckwheat acres gleam like silver shields;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The oats hang tarnished in the golden fields;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Between the elms the yellow wheat-land fills;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The apples drop<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within the orchard, where the red tree spills,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The fragrant fruitage over branch and prop.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30"></a>{30}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The cows go lowing through the lovely vale;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The clarion peacock warns the world of rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Perched on the barn a gaudy weather-vane;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The farm lad holloes from the shifted rail,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Along the grove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He beats a measure on his ringing pail,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And sings the heart-song of his early love.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There is a honey scent along the air;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The hermit thrush has tuned his fleeting note.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Among the silver birches far remote<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His spirit voice appeareth here and there,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To fail and fade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A visionary cadence falling fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That lifts and lingers in the hollow shade.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now a spirit in the east, unseen,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Raises the moon above her misty eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And travels up the veiled and starless skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Viewing the quietude of her demesne;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Stainless and slow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I watch the lustre of her planet’s sheen,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">From burnished gold to liquid silver flow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31"></a>{31}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now I leave the dead with you, O night;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You wear the semblance of their fathomless state,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For you we long when the day’s fire is great,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when stern life is cruellest in his might,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of death we dream:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A country of dim plain and shadowy height,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Crowned with strange stars and silences supreme:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Rest here, for day is hot to follow you,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rest here until the morning star has come,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until is risen aloft dawn’s rosy dome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Based deep on buried crimson into blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And morn’s desire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has made the fragile cobweb drenched with dew<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A net of opals veiled with dreamy fire.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32"></a>{32}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="SONG1" id="SONG1"></a>SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I have</span> done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put by the lute;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Songs and singing soon are over,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon as airy shades that hover<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up above the purple clover—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have done, put by the lute.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once I sang as early thrushes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing about the dewy bushes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now I’m mute;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am like a weary linnet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For my throat has no song in it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have had my singing minute.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put by the lute.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33"></a>{33}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_MAGIC_HOUSE" id="THE_MAGIC_HOUSE"></a>THE MAGIC HOUSE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In</span> her chamber, wheresoe’er<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Time shall build the walls of it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Melodies shall minister,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Mellow sounds shall flit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through a dusk of musk and myrrh.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lingering in the spaces vague,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like the breath within a flute,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Winds shall move along the stair;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When she walketh mute<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Music meet shall greet her there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Time shall make a truce with Time,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All the languid dials tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Irised hours of gossamer,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Eve perpetual<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall the night or light defer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34"></a>{34}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From her casement she shall see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down a valley wild and dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swart with woods of pine and fir;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shall the sunsets swim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Red with untold gold to her.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From her terrace she shall see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lines of birds like dusky motes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Falling in the heated glare;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How an eagle floats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the wan unconscious air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From her turret she shall see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Vision of a cloudy place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a group of opal flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On the verge of space,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or a town, or crown of towers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From her garden she shall hear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fall the cones between the pines;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She shall seem to hear the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or behind the vines<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some small noise, a voice may be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35"></a>{35}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But no thing shall habit there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There no human foot shall fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No sweet word the silence stir,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Naught her name shall call,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nothing come to comfort her.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But about the middle night,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the dusk is loathéd most,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ancient thoughts and words long said,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like an alien host,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There shall come unsummonéd.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With her forehead on her wrist<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She shall lean against the wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see all the dream go by;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the interval<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time shall turn Eternity.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the agony shall pass—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fainting with unuttered prayer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She shall see the world’s outlines<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the weary glare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bare unvaried pines.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36"></a>{36}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_DREAMS" id="IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_DREAMS"></a>IN THE HOUSE OF DREAMS</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> lady Lillian knelt upon the sward,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Between the arbour and the almond leaves;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beyond, the barley gathered into sheaves;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A blade of gladiolus, like a sword,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flamed fierce against the gold; and down toward<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The limpid west, a pallid poplar wove<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A spell of shadow; through the meadow drove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A deep unbroken brook without a ford.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A fountain flung and poised a golden ball;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On the soft grass a frosted serpent lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With oval spots of opal over all;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon the basin’s edge within the spray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lulled by some craft of laughter in the fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An ancient crow dreamed hours and hours away.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37"></a>{37}</span></p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> lady watched the serpent and the crow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For days, then came a little naked lad,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And smote the serpent with a spear he had;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then stooped and caught the coil, and straining slow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Took the lithe weight upon his shoulder, so,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And tugged, but could not move the ponderous thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then flushing red with rage, his spear did fling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cut the gladiolus at one blow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then back he swung his flaming weapon high,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And smote the snake and called a magic name;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then the whole garden vanished utterly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And through a mist the lightning went and came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flooded all the caverns of the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A rosy gulf of unimprisoned flame.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38"></a>{38}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_RIVER_TOWN" id="THE_RIVER_TOWN"></a>THE RIVER TOWN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">There’s</span> a town where shadows run<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the sparkle and the blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the river and the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Swept and flooded thro’ and thro’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There the sailor trolls a song,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There the sea-gull dips her wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There the wind is clear and strong,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There the waters break and swing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But at night with leaden sweep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Come the clouds along the flood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifting in the vaulted deep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pinions of a giant brood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Charging by the slip, the whole<br /></span> -<span class="i2">River rushes black and sheer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There the great fish heave and roll<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the gloom beyond the pier.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39"></a>{39}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All the lonely hollow town<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Towers above the windy quay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the ancient tide goes down<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With its secret to the sea.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40"></a>{40}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="OFF_THE_ISLE_AUX_COUDRES" id="OFF_THE_ISLE_AUX_COUDRES"></a>OFF THE ISLE AUX COUDRES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> moon, Capella, and the Pleiades<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Silver the river’s grey uncertain floor;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Only a heron haunts the grassy shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A fox barks sharply in the cedar trees;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then comes the lift and lull of plangent seas,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Swaying the light marish grasses more and more<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until they float, and the slow tide brims o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then a rivulet runs along the breeze.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O night! thou art so beautiful, so strange, so sad;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I feel that sense of scope and ancientness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all the mighty empires thou hast had<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dreaming of power beneath thy palace dome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of how thou art untouched by their distress,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Supreme above this dreaming land, my home.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41"></a>{41}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="AT_LES_EBOULEMENTS" id="AT_LES_EBOULEMENTS"></a>AT LES EBOULEMENTS<br /><br /> -<small>TO M. E. S.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> bay is set with ashy sails,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With purple shades that fade and flee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And curling by in silver wales,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The tide is straining from the sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The grassy points are slowly drowned,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The water laps and over-rolls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wicker pêche; with shallow sound<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A light wave labours on the shoals.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The crows are feeding in the foam,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They rise in crowds tumultuously,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Come home,’ they cry, ‘come home, come home,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And leave the marshes to the sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42"></a>{42}</span>’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ABOVE_ST_IRENEE" id="ABOVE_ST_IRENEE"></a>ABOVE ST. IRÉNÉE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I rested</span> on the breezy height,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In cooler shade and clearer air,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Beneath a maple tree;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Below, the mighty river took<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its sparkling shade and sheeny light<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Down to the sombre sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And clustered by the leaping brook,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The roofs of white St. Irénée.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sapphire hills on either hand<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Broke down upon the silver tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The river ran in streams,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">In streams of mingled azure-grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With here a broken purple band,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And whorls of drab, and beams<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Of shattered silver light astray,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where far away the south shore gleams.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43"></a>{43}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I walked a mile along the height<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Between the flowers upon the road,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Asters and golden-rod;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And in the gardens pinks and stocks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gaudy poppies shaking light,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And daisies blooming near the sod,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And lowly pansies set in flocks,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With purple monkshood overawed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there I saw a little child<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Between the tossing golden-rod,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Coming along to me;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">She was a tender little thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So fragile-sweet, so Mary-mild,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I thought her name Marie;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">No other name methought could cling<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To any one so fair as she.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when we came at last to meet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I spoke a simple word to her,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">‘Where are you going, Marie?’<br /></span> -<span class="i6">She answered and she did not smile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44"></a>{44}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But oh! her voice,—her voice so sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">‘Down to St. Irénée,’<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And so passed on to walk her mile,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And left the lonely road to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And as the night came on apace,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With stars above the darkened hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I heard perpetually,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Chiming along the falling hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the deep dusk that mellow phrase,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">‘Down to St. Irénée:’<br /></span> -<span class="i6">It seemed as if the stars and flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Should all go there with me.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45"></a>{45}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="WRITTEN_IN_A_COPY_OF_ARCHIBALD_LAMPMANS_POEMS" -id="WRITTEN_IN_A_COPY_OF_ARCHIBALD_LAMPMANS_POEMS"></a>WRITTEN IN A COPY OF ARCHIBALD<br /> -LAMPMAN’S POEMS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">When</span> April moved in maiden guise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hiding her sweet inviolate eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You saw about the hazel roots,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the ruddy osier shoots,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">The violets rise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At even, in the lower woods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amid the cedarn solitudes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You heard afar amid the hush<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The argent utterance of the thrush<br /></span> -<span class="i8">In slower interludes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When bees above in arboured rooms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were busy in the basswood blooms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You drowsed within the sombre drone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dreaming, and deemed yourself alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Harboured in glooms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46"></a>{46}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The singing of the sentient bees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brought wisdom for perplexities;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They taught you all the murmured lore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of seas around an ancient shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Of streams and trees.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You saw the web of life unrolled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fold and inweave, weave and unfold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crimson and azure strand on strand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From some great gulf in vision-land,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Deep and untold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And as the soft clouds opal-gray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the confines of the day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seem lighter for the depth of skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So, lighter for your saddened eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Your fair thoughts stray.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I pluck a bunch before the spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of field-flowers reflowering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a fell that fancy weaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A memory lingers in their leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Of songs you sing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47"></a>{47}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You must have rested here sometime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When thought was high and words in chime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your seed thoughts left for sun and showers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have blossomed into pleasant flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Instead of rhyme.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And so I bring them back to you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These pensile buds of tender hue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of crimson, pink and purple sheen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of yellow deep, and delicate green,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Of white and blue.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48"></a>{48}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="OFF_RIVIERE_DU_LOUP" id="OFF_RIVIERE_DU_LOUP"></a>OFF RIVIÈRE DU LOUP</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">O ship</span> incoming from the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With all your cloudy tower of sail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dashing the water to the lee,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And leaning grandly to the gale;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sunset pageant in the west<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Has filled your canvas curves with rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And jewelled every toppling crest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That crashes into silver snows!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You know the joy of coming home,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">After long leagues to France or Spain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You feel the clear Canadian foam<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the gulf water heave again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Between these sombre purple hills<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That cool the sunset’s molten bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You will go on as the wind wills,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beneath the river’s roof of stars.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49"></a>{49}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You will toss onward toward the lights<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That spangle over the lonely pier,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By hamlets glimmering on the heights,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By level islands black and clear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You will go on beyond the tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through brimming plains of olive sedge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through paler shallows light and wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The rapids piled along the ledge.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At evening off some reedy bay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You will swing slowly on your chain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And catch the scent of dewy hay,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Soft blowing from the pleasant plain.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50"></a>{50}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="AT_THE_CEDARS" id="AT_THE_CEDARS"></a>AT THE CEDARS<br /><br /> -<small>TO W. W. C.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">You</span> had two girls—Baptiste—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One is Virginie—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hold hard—Baptiste!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Listen to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The whole drive was jammed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that bend at the Cedars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rapids were dammed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the logs tight rammed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And crammed; you might know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Devil had clinched them below.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We worked three days—not a budge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘She’s as tight as a wedge, on the ledge,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Says our foreman;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Mon Dieu! boys, look here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We must get this thing clear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51"></a>{51}</span>’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He cursed at the men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we went for it then;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With our cant-dogs arow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We just gave he-yo-ho;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she gave a big shove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From above.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The gang yelled and tore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The logs gave a grind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a wolf’s jaws behind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as quick as a flash,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a shove and a crash,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They were down in a mash,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I and ten more,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All but Isaac Dufour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were ashore.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He leaped on a log in the front of the rush,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shot out from the bind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the jam roared behind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As he floated along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He balanced his pole<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52"></a>{52}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tossed us a song.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But just as we cheered,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up darted a log from the bottom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaped thirty feet square and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And came down on his own.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He went up like a block<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the shock,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he was there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kissed his hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the land;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he dropped<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My heart stopped,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the first logs had caught him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And crushed him;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he rose in his place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was blood on his face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There were some girls, Baptiste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Picking berries on the hillside,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the river curls, Baptiste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You know—on the still side<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53"></a>{53}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">One was down by the water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She saw Isaac<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fall back.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She did not scream, Baptiste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She launched her canoe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It did seem, Baptiste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That she wanted to die too,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For before you could think<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The birch cracked like a shell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that rush of hell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I saw them both sink—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Baptiste!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had two girls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One is Virginie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What God calls the other<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is not known to me.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54"></a>{54}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_END_OF_THE_DAY" id="THE_END_OF_THE_DAY"></a>THE END OF THE DAY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I hear</span> the bells at eventide<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Peal slowly one by one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Near and far off they break and glide,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Across the stream float faintly beautiful<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The antiphonal bells of Hull;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day is done, done, done,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The day is done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The dew has gathered in the flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lake tears from some unconscious deep:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The swallows whirl around the towers,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The light runs out beyond the long cloud bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And leaves the single stars;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis time for sleep, sleep, sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">’Tis time for sleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55"></a>{55}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The hermit thrush begins again,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Timorous eremite—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That song of risen tears and pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As if the one he loved was far away:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">‘Alas! another day—’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And now Good Night, Good Night,’<br /></span> -<span class="i4">‘Good Night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56"></a>{56}</span>’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_REED-PLAYER" id="THE_REED-PLAYER"></a>THE REED-PLAYER<br /><br /> -<small>TO B. C.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">By</span> a dim shore where water darkening<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Took the last light of spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I went beyond the tumult, hearkening<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For some diviner thing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where the bats flew from the black elms like leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Over the ebon pool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brooded the bittern’s cry, as one that grieves<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lands ancient, bountiful.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I saw the fireflies shine below the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Above the shallows dank,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As Uriel from some great altitude,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The planets rank on rank.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now unseen along the shrouded mead<br /></span> -<span class="i2">One went under the hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He blew a cadence on his mellow reed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That trembled and was still.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57"></a>{57}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It seemed as if a line of amber fire<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had shot the gathered dusk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if had blown a wind from ancient Tyre<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Laden with myrrh and musk.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He gave his luring note amid the fern;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its enigmatic fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Haunted the hollow dusk with golden turn<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And argent interval.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I could not know the message that he bore,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The springs of life from me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hidden; his incommunicable lore<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As much a mystery.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And as I followed far the magic player<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He passed the maple wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I passed the stars had risen there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And there was solitude.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58"></a>{58}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_FLOCK_OF_SHEEP" id="A_FLOCK_OF_SHEEP"></a>A FLOCK OF SHEEP<br /><br /> -<small>TO C. G. D. R.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Over</span> the field the bright air clings and tingles,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the gold sunset while the red wind swoops;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the nibbled knolls and from the dingles,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sheep are gathering in frightened groups.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From the wide field the laggards bleat and follow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A drover hurls his cry and hooting laugh;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one young swain, too glad to whoop or hollo,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is singing wildly as he whirls his staff.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now crowding into little groups and eddies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They swirl about and charge and try to pass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sheep-dog yelps and heads them off and steadies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And rounds and moulds them in a seething mass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They stand a moment with their heads uplifted<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till the wise dog barks loudly on the flank,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They all at once roll over and are drifted<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down the small hill toward the river bank.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59"></a>{59}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Covered with rusty marks and purple blotches<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Around the fallen bars they flow and leap;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wary dog stands by and keenly watches<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As if he knew the name of every sheep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now down the road the nimble sound decreases,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The drovers cry, the dog delays and whines,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now with twinkling feet and glimmering fleeces<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They round and vanish past the dusky pines.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The drove is gone, the ruddy wind grows colder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The singing youth puts up the heavy bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the pines he sees the crimson smoulder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And catches in his eyes the early stars.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60"></a>{60}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_PORTRAIT" id="A_PORTRAIT"></a>A PORTRAIT</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">All</span> her hair is softly set,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a misty coronet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Massing darkly on her brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the pines above the snow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her eyebrows lightly drawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slender clouds above the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or like ferns above her eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ferns and pools in Paradise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her sweet mouth is like a flower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a poppy full of power,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shaken light and crimson stain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pressed together by the rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glowing liquid in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the rain is done.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61"></a>{61}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When she moves, her motionings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seem to shadow hidden wings;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So the cuckoo going to light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Takes a little further flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fluttering onward, poised there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half in grass and half in air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When she speaks, her girlish voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Makes a very pleasant noise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a brook that hums along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under leaves an undersong:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she sings, her voice is clear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the waters swerving sheer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the sunlight magical,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down a ringing fall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here her spirit came to dwell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the passionate Israfel;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One of those great songs of his<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rounded to a soul like this;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when she seems so strange at even,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He must be singing in the heaven;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62"></a>{62}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she wears that charméd smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Listening, listening all the while,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She is stirred with kindred things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Starry fire and sweeping wings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the seraph’s sobbing strings.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63"></a>{63}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="AT_THE_LATTICE" id="AT_THE_LATTICE"></a>AT THE LATTICE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Good-night</span>, Marie, I kiss thine eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A tender touch on either lid;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They cover, as a cloud, the skies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where like a star your soul lies hid.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My love is like a fire that flows,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This touch will leave a tiny scar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll claim you by it for my rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My rose, my own, where’er you are.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when you bind your hair, and when<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You lie within your silken nest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This kiss will visit you again,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You will not rest, my love, you will not rest.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64"></a>{64}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_FIRST_SNOW" id="THE_FIRST_SNOW"></a>THE FIRST SNOW</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> field pools gathered into frosted lace;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An icy glitter lined the iron ruts,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bound the circle of the musk-rat huts;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A junco flashed about a sunny space<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where rose stems made a golden amber grace;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Between the dusky alders’ woven ranks,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A stream thought yet about his summer banks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made an August music in the place.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Along the horizon’s faded shrunken lines,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Veiling the gloomy borders of the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Hung the great snow clouds washed with pallid gold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stealing from his covert in the pines,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wind, encouraged to a stinging flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Dropped in the hollow conquered by the cold.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65"></a>{65}</span></p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Then</span> a light cloud rose up for hardihood,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Trailing a veil of snow that whirled and broke,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Blown softly like a shroud of steam or smoke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sallied across a knoll where maples stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Charged over broken country for a rood,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then seeing the night withdrew his force and fled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leaving the ground with snow-flakes thinly spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And traces of the skirmish in the wood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The stars sprang out and flashed serenely near,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The solid frost came down with might and main,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It set the rivers under bolt and bar;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bang! went the starting eaves beneath the strain,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And e’er Orion saw the morning-star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The winter was the master of the year.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66"></a>{66}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="IN_NOVEMBER" id="IN_NOVEMBER"></a>IN NOVEMBER<br /><br /> -<small>TO J. A. R.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> ruddy sunset lies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Banked along the west;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In flocks with sweep and rise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The birds are going to rest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The air clings and cools,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the reeds look cold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Standing above the pools,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like rods of beaten gold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The flaunting golden-rod<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Has lost her worldly mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s given herself to God,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And taken a nun’s hood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wild and wanton horde,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That kept the summer revel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have taken the serge and cord,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And given the slip to the Devil.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67"></a>{67}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The winter’s loose somewhere,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Gathering snow for a fight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the feel of the air<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I think it will freeze to-night.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68"></a>{68}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SLEEPER" id="THE_SLEEPER"></a>THE SLEEPER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Touched</span> with some divine repose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Isabelle has fallen asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the perfume from the rose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In and out her breathings creep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dewy are her rosy palms,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In her cheek the flushes flit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a dream her spirit calms<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the pleasant thought of it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All the rounded heavens show<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like the concave of a pearl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stars amid the opal glow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Little fronds of flame unfurl.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then upfloats a planet strange,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not the moon that mortals know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a magic mountain range,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Cones and craters white as snow;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69"></a>{69}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Something different yet the same—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rain by rainbows glorified,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roses lit with lambent flame—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tis the maid moon’s other side.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the sleeper floats from sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She will smile the vision o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See the veinéd valleys deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No one ever saw before.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet the moon is not betrayed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Ah! the subtle Isabelle!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s a maiden, and a maid<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Maiden secrets will not tell.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70"></a>{70}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_NIGHT_IN_JUNE" id="A_NIGHT_IN_JUNE"></a>A NIGHT IN JUNE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> world is heated seven times,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sky is close above the lawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An oven when the coals are drawn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There is no stir of air at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Only at times an inward breeze<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Turns back a pale leaf in the trees.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here the syringa’s rich perfume<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Covers the tulip’s red retreat,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A burning pool of scent and heat.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The pallid lightning wavers dim<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Between the trees, then deep and dense<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The darkness settles more intense.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A hawk lies panting in the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or plunges upward through the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lightning shows him whirling there.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71"></a>{71}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A bird calls madly from the eaves.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then stops, the silence all at once<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Disturbed, falls dead again and stuns.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A redder lightning flits about,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But in the north a storm is rolled<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That splits the gloom with vivid gold;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dead silence, then a little sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The distance chokes the thunder down,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It shudders faintly in the town.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A fountain plashing in the dark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Keeps up a mimic dropping strain;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ah! God, if it were really rain!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72"></a>{72}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="MEMORY" id="MEMORY"></a>MEMORY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I see</span> a schooner in the bay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Cutting the current into foam;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One day she flies and then one day<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comes like a swallow veering home.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I hear a water miles away<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Go sobbing down the wooded glen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One day it lulls and then one day<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comes sobbing on the wind again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Remembrance goes but will not stay;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That cry of unpermitted pain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One day departs and then one day<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comes sobbing to my heart again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73"></a>{73}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="YOUTH_AND_TIME" id="YOUTH_AND_TIME"></a>YOUTH AND TIME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Move</span> not so lightly, Time, away,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Grant us a breathing-space of tender ruth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deal not so harshly with the flying day,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leave us the charm of spring, the touch of youth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leave us the lilacs wet with dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leave us the balsams odorous with rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leave us of frail hepaticas a few,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Let the red osier sprout for us again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leave us the hazel thickets set<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Along the hills, leave us a month that yields<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fragile bloodroot and the violet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leave us the sorrage shimmering on the fields.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You offer us largess of power,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You offer fame, we ask not these in sooth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These comfort age upon his failing hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But oh, the charm of spring, the touch of youth!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74"></a>{74}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_MEMORY_OF_THE_INFERNO" id="A_MEMORY_OF_THE_INFERNO"></a>A MEMORY OF THE ‘INFERNO’</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">An</span> hour before the dawn I dreamed of you;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Your spirit made a smile upon your face,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As fleeting as the visionary grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That music lends to words; and when it flew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I thought of how the maid Francesca grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So lovely at Ravenna, until Time<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ripened the fruit of her immortal crime.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As pure as light my vision took this hue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To paint our sorrow: so your lips made moan;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘Upon that day we read no more therein’:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wept, such tears Paolo might have known;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And all the love, the immemorial pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Swept down upon me as I felt begin,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That furious circle rage and reel again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75"></a>{75}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="LA_BELLE_FERONIERE" id="LA_BELLE_FERONIERE"></a>LA BELLE FERONIÈRE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I never</span> trod where Leonardo was,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then why art thou within this house of dreams,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Strange Lady? From thy face a memory streams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of things, forgotten now, that came to pass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flower of Milan floated in thy glass:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thy dreaming smile; thy subtle loveliness!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ah! laughter airier far than ours, I guess,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lighted thy brow, fleeter than fire in grass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet, there is something fateful in thy face:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Say, when the master caught it, didst thou know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Almost thy name would perish with thy grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thine artifices melt away like snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the power within this painted space,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Be his alone to hold and haunt us so?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76"></a>{76}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_NOVEMBER_DAY" id="A_NOVEMBER_DAY"></a>A NOVEMBER DAY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">There</span> are no clouds above the world,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But just a round of limpid grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Barred here with nacreous lines unfurled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That seem to crown the autumnal day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With rings of silver chased and pearled.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The moistened leaves along the ground,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lie heavy in an aureate floor;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The air is lingering in a swound;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Afar from some enchanted shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silence has blown instead of sound.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The trees all flushed with tender pink<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are floating in the liquid air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each twig appears a shadowy link,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To keep the branches mooréd there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lest all might drift or sway and sink.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77"></a>{77}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This world might be a valley low,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In some lost ocean grey and old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where sea-plants film the silver flow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where waters swing above the gold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of galleons sunken long ago.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78"></a>{78}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="OTTAWA" id="OTTAWA"></a>OTTAWA</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">City</span> about whose brow the north winds blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Girdled with woods and shod with river foam,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Called by a name as old as Troy or Rome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be great as they, but pure as thine own snow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rather flash up amid the auroral glow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lamia city of the northern star,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Than be so hard with craft or wild with war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Peopled with deeds remembered for their woe.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thou art too bright for guile, too young for tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And thou wilt live to be too strong for Time;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For he may mock thee with his furrowed frowns,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But thou wilt grow in calm throughout the years,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Cinctured with peace and crowned with power sublime,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The maiden queen of all the towered towns.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79"></a>{79}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="SONG2" id="SONG2"></a>SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Here’s</span> the last rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the end of June,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the tulips gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the lilacs strewn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A light wind blows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the golden west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bird is charmed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To her secret nest:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here’s the last rose—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the violet sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A great star shines,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gnats are drawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the purple pines;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the magic lawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shadow flows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the summer moon:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here’s the last rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the end of the tune.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80"></a>{80}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="NIGHT_AND_THE_PINES" id="NIGHT_AND_THE_PINES"></a>NIGHT AND THE PINES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Here</span> in the pine shade is the nest of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lined deep with shadows, odorous and dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here he stays his sweeping flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Here where the strongest wind is lulled for him,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">He lingers brooding until dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">While all the trembling stars move on and on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Under the cliff there drops a lonely fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Deep and half heard its thunder lifts and booms;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Afar the loons with eerie call<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Haunt all the bays, and breaking through the glooms<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Upfloats that cry of light despair,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As if a demon laughed upon the air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A raven croaks from out his ebon sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When a brown cone falls near him through the dark;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the radiant meteors sweep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Afar within the larches wakes the lark;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81"></a>{81}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i4">The wind moves on the cedar hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Tossing the weird cry of the whip-poor-will.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes a titan wind, slumbrous and hushed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Takes the dark grove within his swinging power;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like a cradle softly pushed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The shade sways slowly for a lulling hour;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">While through the cavern sweeps a cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A Sibyl with her secret prophecy.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When morning lifts its fragile silver dome,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the first eagle takes the lonely air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up from his dense and sombre home<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The night sweeps out, a tireless wayfarer,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Leaving within the shadows deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The haunting mood and magic of his sleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And so we cannot come within this grove,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But all the quiet dusk remembrance brings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of ancient sorrow and of hapless love,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fate, and the dream of power, and piercing things<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Traces of mystery and might,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The passion-sadness of the soul of night.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82"></a>{82}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_NIGHT_IN_MARCH" id="A_NIGHT_IN_MARCH"></a>A NIGHT IN MARCH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">At</span> eve the fiery sun went forth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flooding the clouds with ruby blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up roared a war-wind from the north<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And crashed at midnight through the wood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The demons danced about the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The snow slipped singing over the wold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ever when the wind would cease<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A lynx cried out within the cold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A spirit walked the ringing rooms,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Passing the locked and secret door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heavy with divers ancient dooms,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With dreams dead laden to the core.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Spirit, thou art too deep with woe,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I have no harbour place for thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leave me to lesser griefs, and go,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Go with the great wind to the sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83"></a>{83}</span>’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I faltered like a frightened child,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That fears its nurse’s fairy brood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as I spoke, I heard the wild<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wind plunging through the shattered wood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Hast thou betrayed the rest of kings,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With tragic fears and spectres wan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My dreams are lit with purer things,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With humbler ghosts, begone, begone.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The noisy dark was deaf and blind,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Still the strange spirit strayed or stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I could only hear the wind<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Go roaring through the riven wood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Art thou the fate for some wild heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That scorned his cavern’s curve and bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That leaped the bounds of time and art,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And lost thee lingering near the stars?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was so still I heard my thought,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Even the wind was very still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The desolate deeper silence brought<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lynx-moan from the lonely hill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84"></a>{84}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Art thou the thing I might have been,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If all the dead had known control,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Risen through the ages’ trembling sheen,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A mirage of my desert soul?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wind rushed down the roof in wrath,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then shrieked and held its breath and stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like one who finds beside his path,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A dead girl in the marish wood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Or have I ceased, as those who die<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And leave the broken word unsaid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Art thou the spirit ministry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That hovers round the newly dead?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The auroras rose in solitude,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And wanly paled within the room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The window showed an ebon rood,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon the blanched and ashen gloom.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I heard a voice within the dark,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That answered not my idle word,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could not choose but pause and hark,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It was so magically stirred.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85"></a>{85}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It grew within the quiet hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the rose shadows on the wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It had a touch of ancient power,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A wild and elemental fall;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Its rapture had a dreaming close:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The dawn grew slowly on the wold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spreading in fragile veils of rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In tender lines of lemon-gold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The world was turning into light,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was sweeping into life and peace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And folded in the fading night,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I felt the dawning sink and cease.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86"></a>{86}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="SEPTEMBER" id="SEPTEMBER"></a>SEPTEMBER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> morns are grey with haze and faintly cold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The early sunsets arc the west with red;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The stars are misty silver overhead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the dawn Orion lies outrolled.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now all the slopes are slowly growing gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And in the dales a deeper silence dwells;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The crickets mourn with funeral flutes and bells,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For days before the summer had grown old.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now the night-gloom with hurrying wings is stirred,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Strangely the comrade pipings rise and sink,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The birds are following in the pathless dark<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The footsteps of the pilgrim summer. Hark!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was that the redstart or the bobolink?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That lonely cry the summer-hearted bird?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87"></a>{87}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="BY_THE_WILLOW_SPRING" id="BY_THE_WILLOW_SPRING"></a>BY THE WILLOW SPRING<br /><br /> -<small>TO E. W.</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Come</span> hither, Care, and look on this fair place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But leave your gossip and your puckered face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond that flowering carrot in the glow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the red poppies in the orchard blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And come with gentle feet; the last thing there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was a white butterfly upon the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And even now a thrush was in the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To feel the sovereign water slowly pass.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This pool is quiet as oblivion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hidden securely from the flooding sun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its crystal placid surface here receives<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wan grey under light of the willow leaves;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shy things brood about the grass unheard;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only in sunny distance sings the bird.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Time long dead, O days reclaimed and done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou broughtest joy and tears to every one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here by this deep pool thou wast not slow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To deal a maiden all her tender woe;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88"></a>{88}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be kindlier to her now that she is dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let her charmed spirit visit this well-head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More often, for at eve in honey-time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drifting in silence from her ghostly clime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She haunts the pool about the willows pale:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be gentle, for my feeling art may fail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll freshen sorrow and retell her tale.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She was a fragile daughter of the earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And touched with faery from her fatal birth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For many summers she was hardly shy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not clouded with her hovering destiny,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But only wild as any woodland thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That comes at even to a trodden spring;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And scarce she seemed of any settled mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That lights the peaceful hills of maidenhood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But shifted strangely on the whimsy air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not quiet nor contented anywhere.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She gathered sunshine in an earthen cruse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thought to keep it for her own sweet use;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or fluttered flowers from her window high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wept upon them when they would not fly;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when she found the brownish mignonette<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had blossomed where a little seed was set,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89"></a>{89}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">She planted her rag playmate in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because she wanted yet another one;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when she heard the enraptured sparrow sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She clamoured for a song from everything.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For many years she was as strange and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As a pine linnet in a cedar tree.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her folk thought: She is very wild and odd,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she is good, we’ll wait and trust in God.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O love, that watched the weird and charméd child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Change from her airy fancies sweet and mild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a blue brook that clears a meadow spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And threads the barley where the bobolinks sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then wimples by the roots of dusky firs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gathers darkness in those deeps of hers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then makes an arrowy movement through a pass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where rocks are crannied with the clinging grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then falls, almost dissolved in silver rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She gathers deeply to a pool again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But something wild in her new spirit lies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She never can regain her limpid eyes:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O love, alas! ’twas ever so to be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When streams set out to reach the bitter sea.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was a time within the early spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the orchards had done blossoming,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90"></a>{90}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the kinglet on his northern search,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had ceased his timorous piping in the birch,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When streams were bright before the coming leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gurgled like the swallows in the eaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She wandered led by fancy to this place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And looked upon the water’s crystal face;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She saw—what thing of beauty or of awe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know not, no one knoweth what she saw.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ever after she was constant here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As silent as her shadow in the mere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sitting upon a stone which many feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had grooved and trodden for the water sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leaning gravely on her slanted arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her fingers buried in the gravel warm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She gazed and gazed and did not speak or sigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if this gazing was her destiny.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They led her nightly from the magic pool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the shadows grew too deep and cool;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They thought to win her from the liquid spell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tried to tease the elfin maid to tell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What was the charm that led her to the spring;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all their words availed not anything.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then gazed they on the surface of the pool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To read the reason of such subtle rule;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91"></a>{91}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their eyes were overclouded, they could see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Who had drawn water there perpetually)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nothing but water in a depth serene,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a few moony stones of palish green.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They thought perchance it was her face she saw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And answered, beauty unto beauty’s law,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when they showed her image in a glass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was not cured and nothing came to pass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So then they left her to her own strange will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here she stayed when the fair pool was still.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when the wind would hurl the heavy rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She peered out sadly from her window-pane;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the night set wildly close and deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She took her trouble down the dale of sleep:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when the night was warm and no dew fell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She waked and dreamed beside the starlit well.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then came a change, each day some offering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She laid beside the clear soft flowing spring;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there she found them at the break of morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything would take away forlorn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until beside the unconscious spring was laid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each treasure held most precious by a maid.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92"></a>{92}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">After, she offered flowers and often set<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A bowlful of the pleasant mignonette,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And starred the stones with the narcissus white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pansies left athinking all the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then ruffled dewy dahlias, and at last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When sundown told the summer-time had passed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stainéd asters; but from day to day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sadly she took the untouched flowers away.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With autumn and the sounding harvest flute,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She brought her timid god the heavy fruit;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But found it still and cool at early dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beaded with dew upon the crispy lawn.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last one eve she placed an apple here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smooth as a topaz and as golden clear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scented like almonds, with a flesh like dew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And luscious-sweet as honey through and through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She left it sadly on the sleepy lawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when she came again her apple gold was gone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Day after day for days she mutely strove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not to be separate from her placid love;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perchance she thought that, breaking through the spell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her shadow-god, deep in the tranquil well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93"></a>{93}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had taken her last gift;—no man may know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her fancies merged with all mute things that go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The poppied path, dreams and desires foredone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The unplucked roses of oblivion.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now she searched for words that would express<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something of all her spirit’s loneliness;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And formed a liquid jargon, full of falls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As weird and wild as ariel madrigals;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our human tongue was far too harsh for this,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or her slight spirit bore too great a bliss;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But always grew she very faint and pale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Day after day her beauty grew more frail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More mute, more eerie, more ethereal;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her soul burned whitely in its waning shell.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then came the winter with his frosty breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made the world an image of white death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like to death he found the charméd child;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet could not kill her with his bluster wild.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only in his first days she went about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sadly hearkened to his hearty shout;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From windows where the wizard frost had traced<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Moth-wings of rime with silver ferns inlaced,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94"></a>{94}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">She saw her pool set coldly in the drift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where in the autumn she had left her gift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Capped with a cloud of silver steam or smoke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hovered there whether she dreamed or woke;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And often stealing from her early sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She watched the light cloud in the midnight deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waver and blow beneath the moon’s white globe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shivering and whispering in her chilly robe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last she would not look or speak at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And turned her large eyes to the shaded wall.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now she is dead, they thought; but never so,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She died not when the winter winds did blow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was a spirit of the summer air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She would not vanish at the year’s despair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At length the merry sun grew warm and high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And changed the wildwood with his alchemy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The violet reared her bell of drooping gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And over her the robin chimed and trolled.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the first slender moon of May had come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That finds the blithe bird busy at his home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They missed the spirit maiden from the room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That now was sweet with light and spring perfume,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95"></a>{95}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And called her all the echoing afternoon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She answered not, but when the growing moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went down the west with the last bird awing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They found her dead beside her darling spring.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is her tale, her murmurous monument<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flows softly where her fragile life was spent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not grooved in brass nor trenched in pallid stone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But told by water to the reeds alone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She cometh here sometimes on summer eves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her quiet spirit lingers in the leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And while this spring flows on, and while the wands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sway in the moonlight, while in drifting bands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The thistledown blows gleaming in the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dappled thrushes haunt the precinct fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She will return, she will return and lean<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the crystal in the covert green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dream of beauty on the shadow flung<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of irised distance when the world was young.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let us be gone; this is no place for tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us go slowly with the guardian years;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us be brave, the day is almost done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another setting of the pleasant sun.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96"></a>{96}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -Printed by T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty,<br /> -at the Edinburgh University Press.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97"></a>{97}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c"><big><big>L I S T O F B O O K S</big></big></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98"></a>{98}</span></p> - -<p class="r"> -<span class="smcap">May 1893.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"><big><big><span class="smcap">Messrs. Methuen’s</span></big></big></p> - -<p class="c">ANNOUNCEMENTS</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Gladstone.</b> THE SPEECHES AND PUBLIC ADDRESSES OF THE RT. HON. W. E. -GLADSTONE, M.P. With Notes. Edited by <span class="smcap">A. W. Hutton</span>, M.A. (Librarian -of the Gladstone Library), and <span class="smcap">H. J. Cohen</span>, M.A. With Portraits. -<i>8vo. Vol. IX. 12s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Methuen</span> beg to announce that they are about to issue, in -ten volumes 8vo, an authorised collection of Mr. Gladstone’s -Speeches, the work being undertaken with his sanction and under his -superintendence. Notes and Introductions will be added.</p> - -<p><i>In view of the interest in the Home Rule Question, it is proposed -to issue Vols. IX. and X., which will include the speeches of the -last seven or eight years, immediately, and then to proceed with -the earlier volumes. Volume X. is already published.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Henley & Whibley.</b> A BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE. Collected by <span class="smcap">W. E. -Henley</span> and <span class="smcap">Charles Whibley</span>. <i>Crown 8vo.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Also small limited editions on Dutch and Japanese paper. 21<i>s.</i> and -42<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A companion book to Mr. Henley’s well-known <i>Lyra Heroica</i>. It is -believed that no such collection of splendid prose has ever been -brought within the compass of one volume. Each piece, whether -containing a character-sketch or incident, is complete in itself. -The book will be finely printed and bound.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Henley.</b> ENGLISH LYRICS. Selected and Edited by <span class="smcap">W. E. Henley</span>. In Two -Editions:</p> - -<p>A limited issue on hand-made paper. <i>Large crown 8vo. 10s. 6d. -net.</i></p> - -<p>A small issue on finest large Japanese paper. <i>Demy 8vo. 42s. net.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>The announcement of this important collection of English Lyrics -will excite wide interest. It will be finely printed by Messrs. -Constable & Co., and issued in limited editions.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Cheyne.</b> FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITICISM: Biographical, -Descriptive, and Critical Studies. By <span class="smcap">T. K. Cheyne</span>, D.D., Oriel -Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scripture at Oxford. <i>Large -crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This important book is a historical sketch of O.T. Criticism in the -form of biographical studies from the days of Eichhorn to those of -Driver and Robertson Smith. It is the only book of its kind in -English.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99"></a>{99}</span></p> - -<p><b>Prior.</b> CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Edited by <span class="smcap">C. H. Prior</span>, M.A., Fellow and -Tutor of Pembroke College. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A volume of sermons preached before the University of Cambridge by -various preachers, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and -Bishop Westcott.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Collingwood.</b> JOHN RUSKIN: His Life and Work. By <span class="smcap">W. G. Collingwood</span>, -M.A., late Scholar of University College, Oxford, Author of the -‘Art Teaching of John Ruskin,’ Editor of Mr. Ruskin’s Poems. <i>2 -vols. 8vo. 32s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Also a limited edition on hand-made paper, with the Illustrations -on India paper. £3, 3<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>All sold.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Also a small edition on Japanese paper. £5, 5<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>All sold.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This important work is written by Mr. Collingwood, who has been for -some years Mr. Ruskin’s private secretary, and who has had unique -advantages in obtaining materials for this book from Mr. Ruskin -himself and from his friends. It contains a large amount of new -matter, and of letters which have never been published, and is, in -fact, as near as is possible at present, a full and authoritative -biography of Mr. Ruskin. The book contains numerous portraits of -Mr. Ruskin, including a coloured one from a water-colour portrait -by himself, and also 13 sketches, never before published, by Mr. -Ruskin and Mr. Arthur Severn. A bibliography is added.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><i>The First Edition having been at once exhausted, a Second is now -ready.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘No more magnificent volumes have been published for a long time -than “The Life and Work of John Ruskin.” In binding, paper, -printing, and illustrations they will satisfy the most fastidious. -They will be prized not only by the band of devotees who look up to -Mr. Ruskin as the teacher of the age, but by the many whom no -eccentricities can blind to his genius....’—<i>Times.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is just because there are so many books about Mr. Ruskin that -these extra ones are needed. They survey all the others, and -supersede most of them, and they give us the great writer as a -whole.... He has given us everything needful—a biography, a -systematic account of his writings, and a bibliography.... This -most lovingly written and most profoundly interesting -book.’—<i>Daily News.</i></p> - -<p>‘The record is one which is well worth telling; the more so as Mr. -Collingwood knows more about his subject than the rest of the -world.... His two volumes are fitted with elaborate indices and -tables, which will one day be of immense use to the students of -Ruskin’s work.... It is a book which will be very widely and -deservedly read.’—<i>St. James’s Gazette.</i></p> - -<p>‘To a large number of people these volumes will be more -pre-eminently the book of the year than any other that has been, or -is likely to be, published.... It is long since we have had a -biography with such varied delights of substance and of form. Such -a book is a pleasure for the day, and a joy for ever.’—<i>Daily -Chronicle.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is not likely that much will require to be added to this record -of his career which has come from the pen of Mr. W. G. Collingwood. -Mr. Ruskin could not well have been more fortunate in his -biographer.’—<i>Globe.</i></p> - -<p>‘A noble monument of a noble subject. One of the most beautiful -books about one of the noblest lives of our century. The volumes -are exceedingly handsome, and the illustrations very -beautiful.’—<i>Glasgow Herald.</i></p> - -<p>‘It is indeed an excellent biography of Ruskin.’—<i>Scotsman.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a>{100}</span></p> - -<p><b>John Beever.</b> PRACTICAL FLY-FISHING, Founded on Nature, by <span class="smcap">John -Beever</span>, late of the Thwaite House, Coniston. A New Edition, with a -Memoir of the Author by <span class="smcap">W. G. Collingwood</span>, M.A., Author of ‘The -Life and Work of John Ruskin,’ etc. Also additional Notes and a -chapter on Char-Fishing, by A. and <span class="smcap">A. R. Severn</span>. With a specially -designed title-page. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Also a small edition on large paper. 10<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> <i>net</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A little book on Fly-Fishing by an old friend of Mr. Ruskin. It has -been out of print for some time, and being still much in request, -is now issued with a Memoir of the Author by W. G. Collingwood.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Hosken.</b> VERSES BY THE WAY. <span class="smcap">By J. D. Hosken.</span></p> - -<p>Printed on laid paper, and bound in buckram, gilt top. 5<i>s.</i></p> - -<p>Also a small edition on large Dutch hand-made paper. <i>Price 12s. -6d. net.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A Volume of Lyrics and Sonnets by J. D. Hosken, the Postman Poet, -of Helston, Cornwall, whose interesting career is now more or less -well known to the literary public. Q, the Author of ‘The Splendid -Spur,’ etc., will write a critical and biographical introduction.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Oscar Browning.</b> GUELPHS AND GHIBELLINES: A Short History of -Mediæval Italy, <small>A.D.</small> 1250-1409. By <span class="smcap">Oscar Browning</span>, Fellow and Tutor -of King’s College, Cambridge. <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p> - -<p><b>Oliphant.</b> THOMAS CHALMERS: A Biography. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Oliphant</span>. With -Portrait. <i>Crown 8vo. Buckram, 5s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A Life of the celebrated Scottish divine from the capable and -sympathetic pen of Mrs. Oliphant, which will be welcome to a large -circle of readers. It is issued uniform with Mr. Lock’s ‘Life of -John Keble.’</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Anthony Hope.</b> A CHANGE OF AIR: A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Anthony Hope</span>, Author of -‘Mr. Witt’s Widow,’ etc. <i>1 vol. Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A bright story by Mr. Hope, who has, the Athenum says, ‘a decided -outlook and individuality of his own.’</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Baring Gould.</b> MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>, -Author of ‘Mehalah,’ ‘Old Country Life,’ etc. <i>Crown 8vo. 3 vols. -31s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A powerful and characteristic story of Devon life by the author of -‘Mehalah.’</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Benson.</b> DODO: A DETAIL OF THE DAY. By <span class="smcap">E. F. Benson</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 2 -vols. 21s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A story of society by a new writer, full of interest and power, -which will attract considerable notice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a>{101}</span></p> - -<p><b>Parker.</b> MRS. FALCHION. By <span class="smcap">Gilbert Parker</span>, Author of ‘Pierre and His -People.’ <i>2 vols. Crown 8vo. 21s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A new story by a writer whose previous work, ‘Pierre and his -People,’ was received with unanimous favour, and placed him at once -in the front rank.</p> - -<p>‘There is strength and genius in Mr. Parker’s style.’—<i>Daily -Telegraph.</i></p> - -<p>‘His style of portraiture is always effectively picturesque, and -sometimes finely imaginative—the fine art which is only achieved -by the combination of perfect vision and beautifully adequate -rendering.’—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p> - -<p>‘He has the right stuff in him. He has the story-teller’s -gift.—<i>St. James’s Gazette.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Pearce.</b> JACO TRELOAR. By <span class="smcap">J. H. Pearce</span>, Author of ‘Esther -Pentreath.’ <i>2 vols. Crown 8vo. 21s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A tragic story of Cornish life by a writer of remarkable power, -whose first novel has been highly praised by Mr. Gladstone.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Norris.</b> HIS GRACE. By <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>, Author of ‘Mademoiselle de -Mersac,’ ‘The Rogue,’ etc. Third and Cheaper Edition. <i>Crown 8vo. -6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>An edition in one volume of a novel which in its two volume form -quickly ran through two editions.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Pryce.</b> TIME AND THE WOMAN. By <span class="smcap">Richard Pryce</span>, Author of ‘Miss -Maxwell’s Affections,’ ‘The Quiet Mrs. Fleming,’ etc. New and -Cheaper Edition. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Mr. Pryce’s work recalls the style of Octave Feuillet, by its -clearness, conciseness, its literary reserve.’—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Dickenson.</b> A VICAR’S WIFE. By <span class="smcap">Evelyn Dickenson</span>. <i>Cheap Edition. -Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><b>Prowse.</b> THE POISON OF ASPS. By <span class="smcap">R. Orton Prowse</span>. <i>Cheap Edition. -Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><b>Taylor.</b> THE KING’S FAVOURITE. By <span class="smcap">Una Taylor</span>. <i>Cheaper Edition. 1 -vol. Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A cheap edition of a novel whose style and beauty of thought -attracted much attention.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Baring Gould.</b> THE STORY OF KING OLAF. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>, author of -‘Mehalah,’ etc. Illustrated. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A stirring story of Norway, written for boys by the author of ‘In -the Roar of the Sea.’</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Cuthell.</b> TWO CHILDREN AND CHING. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Cuthell</span>. Illustrated. -<i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Another story, with a dog hero, by the author of the very popular -‘Only a Guard-Room Dog.’</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Blake.</b> TODDLEBEN’S HERO. By <span class="smcap">M. Blake</span>, author of ‘The Siege of -Norwich Castle.’ With over 30 Illustrations. <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>October.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A story of military life for children.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a>{102}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c">NEW TWO-SHILLING EDITIONS</p> - -<p class="c"><i>Crown 8vo, Picture Boards.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -<big><big>2/-</big></big><br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"> -A DOUBLE KNOT. By <span class="smcap">G. Manville Fenn</span>.<br /> -A REVEREND GENTLEMAN. By <span class="smcap">J. MacLaren Cobban</span>.<br /> -MR. BUTLER’S WARD. By <span class="smcap">Mabel Robinson</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="cb">UNIVERSITY EXTENSION SERIES</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>ELECTRICAL SCIENCE. By <span class="smcap">George J. Burch</span>. With numerous -Illustrations. 3<i>s.</i></p> - -<p>THE CHEMISTRY OF FIRE. By <span class="smcap">M. M. Pattison Muir</span>. 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p> - -<p>AGRICULTURAL BOTANY. By <span class="smcap">M. C. Potter</span>. Copiously Illustrated. <i>Crown -8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<p class="cb">SOCIAL QUESTIONS OF TO-DAY</p> - -<p class="cb"><i>Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>WOMEN’S WORK. By <span class="smcap">Lady Dilke</span>, <span class="smcap">Miss Bulley</span>, and <span class="smcap">Miss Abraham</span>.</p> - -<p>BACK TO THE LAND. By <span class="smcap">Harold E. Moore</span>, F.S.I., Author of ‘Hints on -Land Improvements,’ ‘Agricultural Co-operation,’ etc.</p></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="cb">New and Recent Books</p> - -<p class="cb"><big>Poetry</big></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Rudyard Kipling.</b> BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS; And Other Verses. By <span class="smcap">Rudyard -Kipling</span>. <i>Sixth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p> - -<p>A Special Presentation Edition, bound in white buckram, with extra -gilt ornament. 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Mr. Kipling’s verse is strong, vivid, lull of character.... -Unmistakable genius rings in every line.’—<i>Times.</i></p> - -<p>‘The disreputable lingo of Cockayne is henceforth justified before -the world; for a man of genius has taken it in hand, and has shown, -beyond all cavilling, that in its way it also is a medium for -literature. You are grateful, and you say to yourself, half in envy -and half in admiration: “Here is a <i>book</i>; here, or one is a -Dutchman, is one of the books of the year.”<span class="lftspc">’</span>—<i>National Observer.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a>{103}</span></p> - -<p>‘<span class="lftspc">“</span>Barrack-Room Ballads” contains some of the best work that Mr. -Kipling has ever done, which is saying a good deal. “Fuzzy-Wuzzy,” -“Gunga Din,” and “Tommy,” are, in our opinion, altogether superior -to anything of the kind that English literature has hitherto -produced.’—<i>Athenæum.</i></p> - -<p>‘These ballads are as wonderful in their descriptive power as they -are vigorous in their dramatic force. There are few ballads in the -English language more stirring than “The Ballad of East and West,” -worthy to stand by the Border ballads of Scott.’—<i>Spectator.</i></p> - -<p>‘The ballads teem with imagination, they palpitate with emotion. We -read them with laughter and tears; the metres throb in our pulses, -the cunningly ordered words tingle with life; and if this be not -poetry, what is?’—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Henley.</b> LYRA HEROICA: An Anthology selected from the best English -Verse of the 16th, 17th, 18th, and 19th Centuries. By <span class="smcap">William -Ernest Henley</span>, Author of ‘A Book of Verse,’ ‘Views and Reviews,’ -etc. <i>Crown 8vo. Stamped gilt buckram, gilt top, edges uncut. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Mr. Henley has brought to the task of selection an instinct alike -for poetry and for chivalry which seems to us quite wonderfully, -and even unerringly, right.’—<i>Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Tomson.</b> A SUMMER NIGHT, AND OTHER POEMS. By <span class="smcap">Graham R. Tomson</span>. With -Frontispiece by <span class="smcap">A. Tomson</span>. <i>Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p>Also an edition on handmade paper, limited to 50 copies. <i>Large -crown 8vo. 10s. 6d. net.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Mrs. Tomson holds perhaps the very highest rank among poetesses of -English birth. This selection will help her reputation.’—<i>Black -and White.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Ibsen.</b> BRAND. A Drama by <span class="smcap">Henrik Ibsen</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">William -Wilson</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘The greatest world-poem of the nineteenth century next to “Faust.” -“Brand” will have an astonishing interest for Englishmen. It is in -the same set with “Agamemnon,” with “Lear,” with the literature -that we now instinctively regard as high and holy.’—<i>Daily -Chronicle.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“<b>Q.</b>” GREEN BAYS: Verses and Parodies. By “Q.,” Author of ‘Dead -Man’s Rock’ etc. <i>Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘The verses display a rare and versatile gift of parody, great -command of metre, and a very pretty turn of humour.’—<i>Times.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“<b>A. G.</b>” VERSES TO ORDER. By “A. G.” <i>Crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt -top. 2s. 6d. net.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A small volume of verse by a writer whose initials are well known -to Oxford men.</p> - -<p>‘A capital specimen of light academic poetry. These verses are very -bright and engaging, easy and sufficiently witty.’—<i>St. James’s -Gazette.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a>{104}</span></p> - -<p><b>Langbridge.</b> A CRACKED FIDDLE. Being Selections from the Poems of -<span class="smcap">Frederic Langbridge</span>. With Portrait. <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p> - -<p><b>Langbridge.</b> BALLADS OF THE BRAVE: Poems of Chivalry, Enterprise, -Courage, and Constancy, from the Earliest Times to the Present Day. -Edited, with Notes, by Rev. <span class="smcap">F. Langbridge</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. Buckram 3s. -6d.</i> School Edition, 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A very happy conception happily carried out. These “Ballads of the -Brave” are intended to suit the real tastes of boys, and will suit -the taste of the great majority.’—<i>Spectator.</i></p> - -<p>‘The book is full of splendid things.’—<i>World.</i></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="cb"><big><big>History and Biography</big></big></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Gladstone.</b> THE SPEECHES AND PUBLIC ADDRESSES OF THE RT. HON. W. E. -GLADSTONE, M.P. With Notes and Introductions. Edited by <span class="smcap">A. W. -Hutton</span>, M. A. (Librarian of the Gladstone Library), and <span class="smcap">H. J. -Cohen</span>, M.A. With Portraits. <i>8vo. Vol. X. 12s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Russell.</b> THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL LORD COLLINGWOOD. By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>, -Author of ‘The Wreck of the Grosvenor.’ With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">F. -Brangwyn</span>. <i>8vo. 15s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A really good book.’—<i>Saturday Review.</i></p> - -<p>‘A most excellent and wholesome book, which we should like to see -in the hands of every boy in the country.’—<i>St. James’s Gazette.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Clark.</b> THE COLLEGES OF OXFORD: Their History and their Traditions. -By Members of the University. Edited by <span class="smcap">A. Clark</span>, M.A., Fellow and -Tutor of Lincoln College. <i>8vo. 12s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Whether the reader approaches the book as a patriotic member of a -college, as an antiquary, or as a student of the organic growth of -college foundation, it will amply reward his attention.’—<i>Times.</i></p> - -<p>‘A delightful book, learned and lively.’—<i>Academy.</i></p> - -<p>‘A work which will certainly be appealed to for many years as the -standard book on the Colleges of Oxford.’—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Hulton.</b> RIXAE OXONIENSES: An Account of the Battles of the Nations, -The Struggle between Town and Gown, etc. By <span class="smcap">S. F. Hulton</span>, M.A. -<i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a>{105}</span></p> - -<p><b>James.</b> CURIOSITIES OF CHRISTIAN HISTORY PRIOR TO THE REFORMATION. -By <span class="smcap">Croake James</span>, Author of ‘Curiosities of Law and Lawyers.’ <i>Crown -8vo. 7s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Perrens.</b> THE HISTORY OF FLORENCE FROM THE TIME OF THE MEDICIS TO -THE FALL OF THE REPUBLIC. By <span class="smcap">F. T. Perrens</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Hannah -Lynch</span>. In three volumes. <i>Vol. I. 8vo. 12s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This is a translation from the French of the best history of -Florence in existence. This volume covers a period of profound -interest—political and literary—and is written with great -vivacity.</p> - -<p>‘This is a standard book by an honest and intelligent historian, -who has deserved well of his countrymen, and of all who are -interested in Italian history.’—<i>Manchester Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Kaufmann.</b> CHARLES KINGSLEY. By <span class="smcap">M. Kaufmann</span>, M.A. <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A biography of Kingsley, especially dealing with his achievements -in social reform.</p> - -<p>‘The author has certainly gone about his work with -conscientiousness and industry.’—<i>Sheffield Daily Telegraph.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Lock.</b> THE LIFE OF JOHN KEBLE. By <span class="smcap">Walter Lock</span>, M.A., Fellow of -Magdalen, Subwarden of Keble, Oxford. With Portrait. <i>Fourth -Edition. Crown 8vo. Buckram, 5s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘This modest, but thorough, careful, and appreciative biography -goes very far to supply what has been wanted. It is high but -well-deserved praise to say that the tone and tenor of the memoir -are thoroughly in harmony with the character and disposition of -Keble himself.... All Churchmen must be indebted to Mr. Lock for -this admirable memoir, which enables us to know a good and great -churchman better than before; and the memoir, which to be -appreciated must be carefully read, makes one think Mr. Keble a -better and greater man than ever.’—<i>Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Hutton.</b> CARDINAL MANNING: A Biography. By <span class="smcap">A. W. Hutton</span>, M.A. With -Portrait. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s. Cheap Edition, 2s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Wells.</b> THE TEACHING OF HISTORY IN SCHOOLS. A Lecture delivered at -the University Extension Meeting in Oxford, Aug. 6th, 1892. By <span class="smcap">J. -Wells</span>, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Wadham College, and Editor of -‘Oxford and Oxford Life.’ <i>Crown 8vo. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Pollard.</b> THE JESUITS IN POLAND. By <span class="smcap">A. F. Pollard</span>, B.A. Oxford Prize -Essays—The Lothian Prize Essay 1892. <i>Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. net.</i></p> - -<p><b>Clifford.</b> THE DESCENT OF CHARLOTTE COMPTON (<span class="smcap">Baroness Ferrers de -Chartley</span>). By her Great-Granddaughter, <span class="smcap">Isabella G. C. Clifford</span>. -<i>Small 4to. 10s. 6d. net.</i></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a>{106}</span></p> - -<hr /> -<p class="cb"><big><big>General Literature</big></big></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Bowden.</b> THE IMITATION OF BUDDHA: Being Quotations from Buddhist -Literature for each Day in the Year. Compiled by <span class="smcap">E. M. Bowden</span>. With -Preface by Sir <span class="smcap">Edwin Arnold</span>. <i>Second Edition. 16mo. 2s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Ditchfleld.</b> OUR ENGLISH VILLAGES: Their Story and their -Antiquities. By <span class="smcap">P. H. Ditchfield</span>, M.A., F.R.H.S., Rector of -Barkham, Berks. <i>Post 8vo. 2s. 6d.</i> Illustrated.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘An extremely amusing and interesting little book, which should -find a place in every parochial library.’—<i>Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Ditchfleld.</b> OLD ENGLISH SPORTS. By <span class="smcap">P. H. Ditchfield</span>, M.A. <i>Crown -8vo. 2s. 6d.</i> Illustrated.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A charming account of old English Sports.’—<i>Morning Post.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Burne.</b> PARSON AND PEASANT: Chapters of their Natural History. By <span class="smcap">J. -B. Burne</span>, M.A., Rector of Wasing. <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘<span class="lftspc">“</span>Parson and Peasant” is a book not only to be interested in, but -to learn something from—a book which may prove a help to many a -clergyman, and broaden the hearts and ripen the charity of -laymen.’—<i>Derby Mercury.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Massee.</b> A MONOGRAPH OF THE MYXOGASTRES. By <span class="smcap">George Massee</span>. With 12 -Coloured Plates. <i>Royal 8vo. 18s. net.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This is the only work in English on this important group. It -contains 12 Coloured Plates, produced in the finest style of -chromo-lithography.</p> - -<p>‘Supplies a want acutely felt. Its merits are of a high order, and -it is one of the most important contributions to systematic natural -science which have lately appeared.’—<i>Westminster Review.</i></p> - -<p>‘A work much in advance of any book in the language treating of -this group of organisms. It is indispensable to every student of -the Mxyogastres. The coloured plates deserve high praise for their -accuracy and execution.’—<i>Nature.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Cunningham.</b> THE PATH TOWARDS KNOWLEDGE: Essays on Questions of the -Day. By <span class="smcap">W. Cunningham</span>, D.D., Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, -Professor of Economics at King’s College, London. <i>Crown 8vo. 4s. -6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Essays on Marriage and Population, Socialism, Money, Education, -Positivism, etc.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Bushill.</b> PROFIT SHARING AND THE LABOUR QUESTION. By <span class="smcap">T. W. Bushill</span>, -a Profit Sharing Employer. With an Introduction by <span class="smcap">Sedley Taylor</span>, -Author of ‘Profit Sharing between Capital and Labour.’ <i>Crown 8vo. -2s. 6d.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a>{107}</span></p> - -<p><b>Anderson Graham.</b> NATURE IN BOOKS: Studies in Literary Biography. By -<span class="smcap">P. Anderson Graham</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>The chapters are entitled: I. ‘The Magic of the Fields’ -(Jefferies). II. ‘Art and Nature’ (Tennyson). III. ‘The Doctrine of -Idleness’ (Thoreau). IV. ‘The Romance of Life’ (Scott). V. ‘The -Poetry of Toil’ (Burns). VI. ‘The Divinity of Nature’ (Wordsworth).</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Wells.</b> OXFORD AND OXFORD LIFE. By Members of the University. Edited -by <span class="smcap">J. Wells</span>, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Wadham College. <i>Crown 8vo. -3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This work contains an account of life at Oxford—intellectual, -social, and religious—a careful estimate of necessary expenses, a -review of recent changes, a statement of the present position of -the University, and chapters on Women’s Education, aids to study, -and University Extension.</p> - -<p>‘We congratulate Mr. Wells on the production of a readable and -intelligent account of Oxford as it is at the present time, written -by persons who are, with hardly an exception, possessed of a close -acquaintance with the system and life of the -University.’—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Driver.</b> SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH THE OLD TESTAMENT. By <span class="smcap">S. -R. Driver</span>, D.D., Canon of Christ Church, Regius Professor of Hebrew -in the University of Oxford. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>An important volume of sermons on Old Testament Criticism preached -before the University by the author of ‘An Introduction to the -Literature of the Old Testament.’</p> - -<p>‘A welcome volume to the author’s famous ‘Introduction.’ No man can -read these discourses without feeling that Dr. Driver is fully -alive to the deeper teaching of the Old Testament.’—<i>Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<p class="cb">WORKS BY S. Baring Gould.</p> - -<p class="c">Author of ‘Mehalah,’ etc.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>OLD COUNTRY LIFE. With Sixty-seven Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. Parkinson</span>, -<span class="smcap">F. D. Bedford</span>, and <span class="smcap">F. Masey</span>. <i>Large Crown 8vo, cloth super extra, -top edge gilt, 10s. 6d. Fourth and Cheaper Edition. 6s.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘<span class="lftspc">“</span>Old Country Life,” as healthy wholesome reading, full of breezy -life and movement, full of quaint stories vigorously told, will not -be excelled by any book to be published throughout the year. Sound, -hearty, and English to the core.—<i>World.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a>{108}</span></p> - -<p>HISTORIC ODDITIES AND STRANGE EVENTS. <i>Third Edition, Crown 8vo. -6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A collection of exciting and entertaining chapters. The whole -volume is delightful reading.’—<i>Times.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>FREAKS OF FANATICISM. (First published as Historic Oddities, Second -Series.) <i>Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Mr. Baring Gould has a keen eye for colour and effect, and the -subjects he has chosen give ample scope to his descriptive and -analytic faculties. A perfectly fascinating book.’—<i>Scottish -Leader.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>SONGS OF THE WEST: Traditional Ballads and Songs of the West of -England, with their Traditional Melodies. Collected by <span class="smcap">S. Baring -Gould</span>, M.A., and <span class="smcap">H. Fleetwood Sheppard</span>, M.A. Arranged for Voice and -Piano. In 4 Parts (containing 25 Songs each), <i>Parts I., II., III., -3s. each. Part IV., 5s. In one Vol., roan, 15s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A rich and varied collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic -fancy.’—<i>Saturday Review.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>YORKSHIRE ODDITIES AND STRANGE EVENTS. <i>Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. -6s.</i></p> - -<p>SURVIVALS AND SUPERSTITIONS. With Illustrations. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring -Gould</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A book on such subjects as Foundations, Gables, Holes, Gallows, -Raising the Hat, Old Ballads, etc. etc. It traces in a most -interesting manner their origin and history.</p> - -<p>‘We have read Mr. Baring Gould’s book from beginning to end. It is -full of quaint and various information, and there is not a dull -page in it.’—<i>Notes and Queries.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>THE TRAGEDY OF THE CAESARS: The Emperors of the Julian and Claudian -Lines. With numerous Illustrations from Busts, Gems, Cameos, etc. -By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>, Author of ‘Mehalah,’ etc. <i>2 vols. Royal 8vo. -30s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This book is the only one in English which deals with the personal -history of the Caesars, and Mr. Baring Gould has found a subject -which, for picturesque detail and sombre interest, is not rivalled -by any work of fiction. The volumes are copiously illustrated.</p> - -<p>‘A most splendid and fascinating book on a subject of undying -interest The great feature of the book is the use the author has -made of the existing portraits of the Caesars, and the admirable -critical subtlety he has exhibited in dealing with this line of -research. It is brilliantly written, and the illustrations are -supplied on a scale of profuse magnificence.’—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p> - -<p>‘The volumes will in no sense disappoint the general reader. -Indeed, in their way, there is nothing in any sense so good in -English.... Mr. Baring Gould has most diligently read his -authorities and presented his narrative in such a way as not to -make one dull page.’—<i>Athenæum.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a>{109}</span></p> - -<p>JACQUETTA, and other Stories. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p>ARMINELL: A Social Romance. <i>New Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘To say that a book is by the author of “Mehalah” is to imply that -it contains a story cast on strong lines, containing dramatic -possibilities, vivid and sympathetic descriptions of Nature, and a -wealth of ingenious imagery. All these expectations are justified -by “Arminell.”<span class="lftspc">’</span>—<i>Speaker.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>URITH: A Story of Dartmoor. <i>Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘The author is at his best.’—<i>Times.</i></p> - -<p>‘He has nearly reached the high water-mark of -“Mehalah.”<span class="lftspc">’</span>—<i>National Observer.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>MARGERY OF QUETHER, and other Stories. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p>IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA: A Tale of the Cornish Coast. <i>New Edition. -6s.</i></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="cb"><big><big>Fiction</big></big></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Author of ‘Indian Idylls.’</b> IN TENT AND BUNGALOW: Stories of Indian -Sport and Society. By the Author of ‘Indian Idylls.’ <i>Crown 8vo. -3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Fenn.</b> A DOUBLE KNOT. By <span class="smcap">G. Manville Fenn</span>, Author of ‘The Vicar’s -People,’ etc. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Pryce.</b> THE QUIET MRS. FLEMING. By <span class="smcap">Richard Pryce</span>, Author of ‘Miss -Maxwell’s Affections,’ etc. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. Picture Boards, -2s.</i></p> - -<p><b>Pryce.</b> TIME AND THE WOMAN. By <span class="smcap">Richard Pryce</span>, Author of ‘Miss -Maxwell’s Affections,’ ‘The Quiet Mrs. Fleming,’ etc. New and -Cheaper Edition. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Mr. Pryce’s work recalls the style of Octave Feuillet, by its -clearness, conciseness, its literary reserve.—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Gray.</b> ELSA. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">E. M’Queen Gray</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A charming novel. The characters are not only powerful sketches, -but minutely and carefully finished portraits.’—<i>Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Gray.</b> MY STEWARDSHIP. By <span class="smcap">E. M’Queen Gray</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a>{110}</span></p> - -<p><b>Cobban.</b> A REVEREND GENTLEMAN. By <span class="smcap">J. MacLaren Cobban</span>, Author of -‘Master of his Fate,’ etc. <i>Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. Picture boards, 2s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘The best work Mr. Cobban has yet achieved. The Rev. W. Merrydew is -a brilliant creation.’—<i>National Observer.</i></p> - -<p>‘One of the subtlest studies of character outside -Meredith.’—<i>Star.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Lyall.</b> DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. By <span class="smcap">Edna Lyall</span>, Author of -‘Donovan.’ <i>Crown 8vo. 31st Thousand. 3s. 6d.; paper, 1s.</i></p> - -<p><b>Lynn Linton.</b> THE TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA DAVIDSON, Christian and -Communist. By <span class="smcap">E. Lynn Linton</span>. Eleventh and Cheaper Edition. <i>Post -8vo. 1s.</i></p> - -<p><b>Grey.</b> THE STORY OF CHRIS. By <span class="smcap">Rowland Grey</span>, Author of -‘Lindenblumen,’ etc. <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p> - -<p><b>Dicker.</b> A CAVALIER’S LADYE. By <span class="smcap">Constance Dicker</span>. <i>With -Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Author of ‘Vera.’</b> THE DANCE OF THE HOURS. By the Author of ‘Vera,’ -‘Blue Roses,’ etc. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A musician’s dream, pathetically broken off at the hour of its -realisation, is vividly represented in this book.... Well written -and possessing many elements of interest. The success of “The Dance -of the Hours” may be safely predicted.—<i>Morning Post.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Norris.</b> A Deplorable Affair. By <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>, Author of ‘His -Grace.’ <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘What with its interesting story, its graceful manner, and its -perpetual good humour, the book Is as enjoyable as any that has -come from its author’s pen.’—<i>Scotsman.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Dickinson.</b> A VICAR’S WIFE. By <span class="smcap">Evelyn Dickinson</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. -6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Prowse.</b> THE POISON OF ASPS. By <span class="smcap">R. Orton Prowse</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. -6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Parker.</b> PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. By <span class="smcap">Gilbert Parker</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. -Buckram. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Stories happily conceived and finely executed. There is strength -and genius in Mr Parker’s style.’—<i>Daily Telegraph.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a>{111}</span></p> - -<p><b>Marriott Watson.</b> DIOGENES OF LONDON and other Sketches. By <span class="smcap">H. B. -Marriott Watson</span>, Author of ‘The Web of the Spider.’ <i>Crown 8vo. -Buckram. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Mr. Watson’s merits are unmistakable and irresistible.’—<i>Star.</i></p> - -<p>‘A clever book and an interesting one.’—<i>St. James’s Gazette.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Clark Russell.</b> MY DANISH SWEETHEART. By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>, Author of -‘The Wreck of the Grosvenor,’ ‘A Marriage at Sea,’ etc. With 6 -Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. H. Overend</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘The book is one of the author’s best and breeziest.’—<i>Scotsman.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Bliss.</b> A MODERN ROMANCE. By <span class="smcap">Laurence Bliss</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. Buckram. -3s. 6d. Paper. 2s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Shows much promise.... Excellent of dialogue.’—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="cb"><big><big>Novel Series</big></big></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Messrs. Methuen</span> will issue from time to time a Series of copyright -Novels, by well-known Authors, handsomely bound, at the above -popular price of three shillings and sixpence. The first volumes -(ready) are:—</p> - -<p class="r"> -<big><big><big>3/6</big></big></big><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>1. THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By <span class="smcap">F. Mabel Robinson</span>.</p> - -<p>2. JACQUETTA. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>, Author of ‘Mehalah,’ etc.</p> - -<p>3. MY LAND OF BEULAH. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Leith Adams</span> (Mrs. De Courcy Laffan).</p> - -<p>4. ELI’S CHILDREN. By <span class="smcap">G. Manville Fenn</span>.</p> - -<p>5. ARMINELL: A Social Romance. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>, Author of -‘Mehalah,’ etc.</p> - -<p>6. DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. With Portrait of Author. By <span class="smcap">Edna -Lyall</span>, Author of ‘Donovan,’ etc. Also paper, 1<i>s.</i></p> - -<p>7. DISENCHANTMENT. By <span class="smcap">F. Mabel Robinson</span>.</p> - -<p>8. DISARMED. By <span class="smcap">M. Betham Edwards</span>.</p> - -<p>9. JACK’S FATHER. By <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>.</p> - -<p>10. MARGERY OF QUETHER. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>.</p> - -<p>11. A LOST ILLUSION. By <span class="smcap">Leslie Keith</span>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a>{112}</span></p> - -<p>12. A MARRIAGE AT SEA. By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>.</p> - -<p>13. MR. BUTLER’S WARD. By <span class="smcap">F. Mabel Robinson</span>.</p> - -<p>14. URITH. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>.</p> - -<p>15. HOVENDEN, V.C. By <span class="smcap">F. Mabel Robinson</span>.</p></div> - -<p>Other Volumes will be announced in due course.</p> - -<p class="cb">NEW TWO-SHILLING EDITIONS</p> - -<p class="r"> -<big><big><big>2/-</big></big></big><br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"><i>Crown 8vo, Ornamental Boards.</i></p> - -<p class="nind"> -ARMINELL. By the Author of ‘Mehalah.’<br /> -ELI’S CHILDREN. By <span class="smcap">G. Manville Fenn</span>.<br /> -DISENCHANTMENT. By <span class="smcap">F. Mabel Robinson</span>.<br /> -THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By <span class="smcap">F. Mabel Robinson</span>.<br /> -JACQUETTA. By the Author of ‘Mehalah.’<br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"><i>Picture Boards.</i></p> - -<p class="nind"> -THE QUIET MRS. FLEMING. By <span class="smcap">Richard Pryce</span>.<br /> -JACK’S FATHER. By <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>.<br /> -MR. BUTLER’S WARD. By <span class="smcap">Mabel Robinson</span>.<br /> -A REVEREND GENTLEMEN. By <span class="smcap">J. MacLaren Cobban</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="cb"><big><big>Books for Boys and Girls</big></big></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Cuthell.</b> ONLY A GUARD-ROOM DOG. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Cuthell</span>. With 16 -Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. Parkinson</span>. <i>Square Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘This is a charming story. Tangle was but a little mongrel Sky -terrier, but he had a big heart in his little body, and played a -hero’s part more than once. The book can be warmly -recommended.’—<i>Standard.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Collingwood.</b> THE DOCTOR OF THE JULIET. By <span class="smcap">Harry Collingwood</span>, Author -of ‘The Pirate Island,’ etc. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. <i>Crown -8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘<span class="lftspc">“</span>The Doctor of the Juliet,” well illustrated by Gordon Browne, is -one of Harry Collingwood’s best efforts.’—<i>Morning Post.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a>{113}</span></p> - -<p><b>Walford.</b> A PINCH OF EXPERIENCE. By <span class="smcap">L. B. Walford</span>, Author of ‘Mr. -Smith.’ With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘The clever authoress steers clear of namby-pamby, and invests her -moral with a fresh and striking dress. There is terseness and -vivacity of style, and the illustrations are -admirable.’—<i>Anti-Jacobin.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Molesworth.</b> THE RED GRANGE. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Molesworth</span>, Author of -‘Carrots.’ With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘A volume in which girls will delight, and beautifully -illustrated.’—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Clark Russell.</b> MASTER ROCKAFELLAR’S VOYAGE. By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>, -Author of ‘The Wreck of the Grosvenor,’ etc. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Gordon -Browne</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Mr. Clark Russell’s story of “Master Rockafellar’s Voyage” will be -among the favourites of the Christmas books. There is a rattle and -“go” all through it, and its illustrations are charming in -themselves, and very much above the average in the way in which -they are produced.’—<i>Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Author of ‘Mdle. Mori.’</b> THE SECRET OF MADAME DE Monluc. By the -Author of ‘The Atelier du Lys,’ ‘Mdle. Mori.’ <i>Crown 8vo. 5s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘An exquisite literary cameo.’—<i>World.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Manville Fenn.</b> SYD BELTON: Or, The Boy who would not go to Sea. By -<span class="smcap">G. Manville Fenn</span>, Author of ‘In the King’s Name,’ etc. Illustrated -by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Who among the young story-reading public will not rejoice at the -sight of the old combination, so often proved admirable—a story by -Manville Fenn, illustrated by Gordon Browne? The story, too, is one -of the good old sort, full of life and vigour, breeziness and -fun.’—<i>Journal of Education.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Parr.</b> DUMPS. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Parr</span>, Author of ‘Adam and Eve,’ ‘Dorothy Fox,’ -etc. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">W. Parkinson</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘One of the prettiest stories which even this clever writer has -given the world for a long time.’—<i>World.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Meade.</b> OUT OF THE FASHION. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>, Author of ‘A Girl of the -People,’ etc. With 6 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. Paget</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 6s.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘One of those charmingly-written social tales, which this writer -knows so well how to write. It is delightful reading, and is well -illustrated by W. Paget.’—<i>Glasgow Herald.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a>{114}</span></p> - -<p><b>Meade.</b> A GIRL OF THE PEOPLE. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>, Author of ‘Scamp and -I,’ etc. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">R. Barnes</span>. <i>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘An excellent story. Vivid portraiture of character, and broad and -wholesome lessons about life.’—<i>Spectator.</i></p> - -<p>‘One of Mrs. Meade’s most fascinating books.’—<i>Daily News.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Meade.</b> HEPSY GIPSY. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Everard Hopkins</span>. -<i>Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Mrs. Meade has not often done better work than -this.’—<i>Spectator.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><b>Meade.</b> THE HONOURABLE MISS: A Tale of a Country Town. By <span class="smcap">L. T. -Meade</span>, Author of ‘Scamp and I,’ ‘A Girl of the People,’ etc. With -Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Everard Hopkins</span>. <i>Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p><b>Adams.</b> MY LAND OF BEULAH. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Leith Adams</span>. With a Frontispiece -by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. <i>Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</i></p></div> - -<p class="cb">Leaders of Religion</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Edited by H. C. BEECHING, M.A. <i>With Portrait, crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p>A series of short biographies, free from party bias, of the most -prominent leaders of religious life and thought.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<big><big><big>2/6</big></big></big><br /> -</p> - -<p>The following are ready—</p> - -<p>CARDINAL NEWMAN. By <span class="smcap">R. H. Hutton</span>.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘Few who read this book will fail to be struck by the wonderful -insight it displays into the nature of the Cardinal’s genius and -the spirit of his life.’—<span class="smcap">Wilfrid Ward</span>, in the <i>Tablet</i>.</p> - -<p>‘Full of knowledge, excellent in method, and intelligent in -criticism. We regard it as wholly admirable.’—<i>Academy.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>JOHN WESLEY. By <span class="smcap">J. H. Overton</span>, M.A.</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>‘It is well done: the story is clearly told, proportion is duly -observed, and there is no lack either of discrimination or of -sympathy.’—<i>Manchester Guardian.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By <span class="smcap">G. W. Daniel</span>, M.A.</p> - -<p>CHARLES SIMEON. By <span class="smcap">H. C. G. Moule</span>, M.A.</p> - -<p>CARDINAL MANNING. By <span class="smcap">A. W. Hutton</span>, M.A.</p></div> - -<p class="c">Other volumes will be announced in due course.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a>{115}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c"><big>University Extension Series</big></p> - -<p>A series of books on historical, literary, and scientific subjects, -suitable for extension students and home reading circles. Each volume -will be complete in itself, and the subjects will be treated by -competent writers in a broad and philosophic spirit.</p> - -<p class="c"> -Edited by J. E. SYMES, M.A.,<br /> -Principal of University College, Nottingham.<br /> -<i>Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="r"> -<big><big><big>2/6</big></big></big><br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"><i>The following volumes are ready</i>:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By <span class="smcap">H. de B. Gibbins</span>, M.A., late -Scholar of Wadham College, Oxon., Cobden Prizeman. <i>Second -Edition.</i> With Maps and Plans.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Ready.</i><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A compact and clear story of our industrial development. A study of -this concise but luminous book cannot fail to give the reader a -clear insight into the principal phenomena of our industrial -history. The editor and publishers are to be congratulated on this -first volume of their venture, and we shall look with expectant -interest for the succeeding volumes of the series.’—<i>University -Extension Journal.</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A HISTORY OF ENGLISH POLITICAL ECONOMY. By <span class="smcap">L. L. Price</span>, M.A., -Fellow of Oriel College, Oxon.</p> - -<p>PROBLEMS OF POVERTY: An Inquiry into the Industrial Conditions of -the Poor. By <span class="smcap">J. A. Hobson</span>, M.A.</p> - -<p>VICTORIAN POETS. By <span class="smcap">A. Sharp</span>.</p> - -<p>THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. By <span class="smcap">J. E. Symes</span>, M.A.</p> - -<p>PSYCHOLOGY. By <span class="smcap">F. S. Granger</span>, M.A., Lecturer in Philosophy at -University College, Nottingham.</p> - -<p>THE EVOLUTION OF PLANT LIFE: Lower Forms. By <span class="smcap">G. Massee</span>, Kew -Gardens. With Illustrations.</p> - -<p>AIR AND WATER. Professor <span class="smcap">V. B. Lewes</span>, M.A. Illustrated.</p> - -<p>THE CHEMISTRY OF LIFE AND HEALTH. By <span class="smcap">C. W. Kimmins</span>, M.A. Camb. -Illustrated.</p> - -<p>THE MECHANICS OF DAILY LIFE. By <span class="smcap">V. P. Sells</span>, M.A. Illustrated.</p> - -<p>ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. <span class="smcap">H. de B. Gibbins</span>, M.A.</p> - -<p>ENGLISH TRADE AND FINANCE IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. By <span class="smcap">W. A. S. -Hewins</span>, B.A.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a>{116}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="cb"><big><big>Social Questions of To-day</big></big></p> - -<p class="c">Edited by H. <span class="smcap">DE</span> B. GIBBINS, M.A.</p> - -<p class="c"><i>Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d.</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -<big><big><big>2/6</big></big></big><br /> -</p> - -<p>A series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, and -industrial interest that are at the present moment foremost in the -public mind. Each volume of the series will be written by an author who -is an acknowledged authority upon the subject with which he deals.</p> - -<p class="c"><i>The following Volumes of the Series are ready</i>:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>TRADE UNIONISM—NEW AND OLD. By <span class="smcap">G. Howell</span>, M.P., Author of ‘The -Conflicts of Capital and Labour.’</p> - -<p>THE CO-OPERATIVE MOVEMENT TO-DAY. By <span class="smcap">G. J. Holyoake</span>, Author of ‘The -History of Co-operation.’</p> - -<p>MUTUAL THRIFT. By Rev. <span class="smcap">J. Frome Wilkinson</span>, M.A., Author of ‘The -Friendly Society Movement.’</p> - -<p>PROBLEMS OF POVERTY: An Inquiry into the Industrial Conditions of -the Poor. By <span class="smcap">J. A. Hobson</span>, M.A.</p> - -<p>THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. By <span class="smcap">C. F. Bastable</span>, M.A., Professor of -Economics at Trinity College, Dublin.</p> - -<p>THE ALIEN INVASION. By <span class="smcap">W. H. Wilkins</span>, B.A., Secretary to the -Society for Preventing the Immigration of Destitute Aliens.</p> - -<p>THE RURAL EXODUS. By <span class="smcap">P. Anderson Graham</span>.</p> - -<p>LAND NATIONALIZATION. By <span class="smcap">Harold Cox</span>, B.A.</p> - -<p>A SHORTER WORKING DAY. By <span class="smcap">H. de B. Gibbins</span> and <span class="smcap">R. A. Hadfield</span>, of -the Hecla Works, Sheffield.</p> - -<p>BACK TO THE LAND, being an inquiry as to the possible conditions -under which those now unemployed can be provided with rural work, -with practical suggestions as to the means by which a larger number -of persons than at present can be maintained from the land. By -<span class="smcap">Harold E. Moore</span>, F.S.I., Author of ‘Hints on Land Improvements.’</p></div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/back.jpg" width="313" height="500" alt="" title="" /> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Magic House and Other Poems, by -Duncan Campbell Scott - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAGIC HOUSE AND OTHER POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 52898-h.htm or 52898-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/8/9/52898/ - -Produced by Larry B. 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