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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d0dfe9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53053 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53053) diff --git a/old/53053-0.txt b/old/53053-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f9f3bf8..0000000 --- a/old/53053-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2331 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's By the Aurelian Wall and Other Elegies, by Bliss Carman - -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: By the Aurelian Wall and Other Elegies - -Author: Bliss Carman - -Release Date: September 15, 2016 [EBook #53053] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BY THE AURELIAN WALL *** - - - - -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.) - - - - - - - - - - - By the Aurelian Wall - - - - - By the Aurelian Wall - _And Other Elegies_ - - By BLISS CARMAN - - _Author of_ - Low Tide on Grand Pré, Behind the Arras, - Ballads of Lost Haven, &c. - - [Illustration: colophon] - - Lamson, Wolffe and Company - Boston, New York and London - MDCCCXCVIII - - Copyright, 1898, - By Lamson, Wolffe and Company. - - _All rights reserved._ - - _Norwood Press_ - _J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith_ - _Norwood Mass. U.S.A._ - - - - - CONTENTS - - - BY THE AURELIAN WALL, 9 - - THE WHITE GULL, 15 - - THE COUNTRY OF HAR, 32 - - TO RICHARD LOVELACE, 42 - - A SEAMARK, 44 - - THE WORD OF THE WATER, 57 - - PHILLIPS BROOKS, 59 - - JOHN ELIOT BOWEN, 64 - - HENRY GEORGE, 67 - - ILICET, 70 - - TO RAPHAEL, 76 - - TO P. V., 82 - - A NORSE CHILD’S REQUIEM, 87 - - IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS, 91 - - AN AFTERWORD, 96 - - SEVEN WIND SONGS, 102 - - ANDREW STRATON, 112 - - THE GRAVE-TREE, 127 - - - - - BY THE AURELIAN WALL - - _In Memory of John Keats_ - - - By the Aurelian Wall, - Where the long shadows of the centuries fall - From Caius Cestius’ tomb, - A weary mortal seeking rest found room - For quiet burial, - - Leaving among his friends - A book of lyrics. - Such untold amends - A traveller might make - In a strange country, bidden to partake - Before he farther wends; - - Who shyly should bestow - The foreign reed-flute they had seen him blow - And finger cunningly, - On one of the dark children standing by, - Then lift his cloak and go. - - The years pass. And the child - Thoughtful beyond his fellows, grave and mild, - Treasures the rough-made toy, - Until one day he blows it for clear joy, - And wakes the music wild. - - His fondness makes it seem - A thing first fashioned in delirious dream, - Some god had cut and tried, - And filled with yearning passion, and cast aside - On some far woodland stream,-- - - After long years to be - Found by the stranger and brought over sea, - A marvel and delight - To ease the noon and pierce the dark blue night, - For children such as he. - - He learns the silver strain - Wherewith the ghostly houses of gray rain - And lonely valleys ring, - When the untroubled whitethroats make the spring - A world without a stain; - - Then on his river reed, - With strange and unsuspected notes that plead - Of their own wild accord - For utterances no bird’s throat could afford, - Lifts it to human need. - - His comrades leave their play, - When calling and compelling far away - By river-slope and hill, - He pipes their wayward footsteps where he will, - All the long lovely day. - - Even his elders come. - “Surely the child is elvish,” murmur some, - And shake the knowing head; - “Give us the good old simple things instead, - Our fathers used to hum.” - - Others at the open door - Smile when they hear what they have hearkened for - These many summers now, - Believing they should live to learn somehow - Things never known before. - - But he can only tell - How the flute’s whisper lures him with a spell, - Yet always just eludes - The lost perfection over which he broods; - And how he loves it well. - - Till all the country-side, - Familiar with his piping far and wide, - Has taken for its own - That weird enchantment down the evening blown,-- - Its glory and its pride. - - And so his splendid name, - Who left the book of lyrics and small fame - Among his fellows then, - Spreads through the world like autumn--who knows when?-- - Till all the hillsides flame. - - Grand Pré and Margaree - Hear it upbruited from the unresting sea; - And the small Gaspareau, - Whose yellow leaves repeat it, seems to know - A new felicity. - - Even the shadows tall, - Walking at sundown through the plain, recall - A mound the grasses keep, - Where once a mortal came and found long sleep - By the Aurelian Wall. - - - - - THE WHITE GULL - - _For the Centenary of the Birth of Shelley_ - - - I - - Up by the idling reef-set bell - The tide comes in; - And to the idle heart to-day - The wind has many things to say; - The sea has many a tale to tell - His younger kin. - - For we are his, bone of his bone, - Breath of his breath; - The doom tides sway us at their will; - The sky of being rounds us still; - And over us at last is blown - The wind of death. - - - II - - A hundred years ago to-day - There came a soul, - A pilgrim of the perilous light, - Treading the spheral paths of night, - On whom the word and vision lay - With dread control. - - Now the pale Summer lingers near, - And talks to me - Of all her wayward journeyings, - And the old, sweet, forgotten things - She loved and lost and dreamed of here - By the blue sea. - - The great cloud-navies, one by one, - Bend sails and fill - From ports below the round sea-verge; - I watch them gather and emerge, - And steer for havens of the sun - Beyond the hill. - - The gray sea-horses troop and roam; - The shadows fly - Along the wind-floor at their heels; - And where the golden daylight wheels, - A white gull searches the blue dome - With keening cry. - - And something, Shelley, like thy fame - Dares the wide morn - In that sea-rover’s glimmering flight, - As if the Northland and the night - Should hear thy splendid valiant name - Put scorn to scorn. - - - III - - Thou heart of all the hearts of men, - Tameless and free, - And vague as that marsh-wandering fire, - Leading the world’s outworn desire - A night march down this ghostly fen - From sea to sea! - - Through this divided camp of dream - Thy feet have passed, - As one who should set hand to rouse - His comrades from their heavy drowse; - For only their own deeds redeem - God’s sons at last. - - But the dim world will dream and sleep - Beneath thy hand, - As poppies in the windy morn, - Or valleys where the standing corn - Whispers when One goes forth to reap - The weary land. - - O captain of the rebel host, - Lead forth and far! - Thy toiling troopers of the night - Press on the unavailing fight; - The sombre field is not yet lost, - With thee for star. - - Thy lips have set the hail and haste - Of clarions free - To bugle down the wintry verge - Of time forever, where the surge - Thunders and crumbles on a waste - And open sea. - - - IV - - Did the cold Norns who pattern life - With haste and rest - Take thought to cheer their pilgrims on - Through trackless twilights vast and wan, - Across the failure and the strife, - From quest to quest,-- - - Set their last kiss upon thy face, - And let thee go - To tell the haunted whisperings - Of unimaginable things, - Which plague thy fellows with a trace - They cannot know? - - So they might fashion and send forth - Their house of doom, - Through the pale splendor of the night, - In vibrant, hurled, impetuous flight, - A resonant meteor of the North - From gloom to gloom. - - - V - - I think thou must have wandered far - With Spring for guide, - And heard the shy-born forest flowers - Talk to the wind among the showers, - Through sudden doorways left ajar - When the wind sighed; - - Thou must have heard the marching sweep - Of blown white rain - Go volleying up the icy kills,-- - And watched with Summer when the hills - Muttered of freedom in their sleep - And slept again. - - Surely thou wert a lonely one, - Gentle and wild; - And the round sun delayed for thee - In the red moorlands by the sea, - When Tyrian Autumn lured thee on, - A wistful child, - - To rove the tranquil, vacant year, - From dale to dale; - And the great Mother took thy face - Between her hands for one long gaze, - And bade thee follow without fear - The endless trail. - - And thy clear spirit, half forlorn, - Seeking its own, - Dwelt with the nomad tents of rain, - Marched with the gold-red ranks of grain, - Or ranged the frontiers of the morn, - And was alone. - - - VI - - One brief perturbed and glorious day! - How couldst thou learn - The quiet of the forest sun, - Where the dark, whispering rivers run - The journey that hath no delay - And no return? - - And yet within thee flamed and sang - The dauntless heart, - Knowing all passion and the pain - On man’s imperious disdain, - Since God’s great part in thee gave pang - To earth’s frail part. - - It held the voices of the hills - Deep in its core; - The wandering shadows of the sea - Called to it,--would not let it be; - The harvest of those barren rills - Was in its store. - - Thine was a love that strives and calls - Outcast from home, - Burning to free the soul of man - With some new life. How strange, a ban - Should set thy sleep beneath the walls - Of changeless Rome! - - - VII - - More soft, I deem, from spring to spring, - Thy sleep would be - Where this far western headland lies - With its imperial azure skies, - Under thee hearing beat and swing - The eternal sea. - - Where all the livelong brooding day - And all night long, - The far sea-journeying wind should come - Down to the doorway of thy home, - To lure thee ever the old way - With the old song. - - But the dim forest would so house - Thy heart so dear, - Even the low surf of the rain, - Where ghostly centuries complain, - Might beat against thy door and rouse - No heartache here. - - For here the thrushes, calm, supreme, - Forever reign, - Whose gloriously kingly golden throats - Regather their forgotten notes - In keys where lurk no ruin of dream, - No tinge of pain. - - And here the ruthless noisy sea, - With the tide’s will, - The strong gray wrestler, should in vain - Put forth his hand on thee again-- - Lift up his voice and call to thee, - And thou be still. - - For thou hast overcome at last; - And fate and fear - And strife and rumor now no more - Vex thee by any wind-vexed shore, - Down the strewn ways thy feet have passed - Far, far from here. - - - VIII - - Up by the idling, idling bell - The tide comes in; - And to the restless heart to-day - The wind has many things to say; - The sea has many a tale to tell - His younger kin. - - The gray sea-horses troop and roam; - The shadows fly - Along the wind-floor at their heels; - And where the golden daylight wheels, - A white gull searches the blue dome - With keening cry. - - - - - THE COUNTRY OF HAR - - _For the Centenary of Blake’s “Songs of Innocence”_ - - - Once a hundred years ago - There was a light in London town, - For an angel of the snow - Walked her street sides up and down. - - As a visionary boy - He put forth his hand to smite - Songs of innocence and joy - From the crying chords of night, - Like a muttering of thunder - Heard beneath the polar star; - For his soul was all a-wonder - At the calling vales of Har. - - He, a traveller by day - And a pilgrim of the sun, - Took his uncompanioned way - Where the journey is not done. - - Where no mortal might aspire - His clear heart was set to climb, - To the uplands of desire - And the river wells of time. - - Home he wandered to the valley - Where the springs of morning are, - And the sea-bright cohorts rally - On the twilit plains of Har. - - There he found the Book of Thel - In the lily-garth of bliss, - Fashioned, how no man can tell, - As a white windflower is: - - Like the lulling of a sigh - Uttered in the trembling grass, - When a shower is gone by, - And the sweeping shadows pass,-- - - Through the hyacinthine weather, - Wheel them down without a jar,-- - Heaving all the dappled heather - In the streaming vales of Har. - - There was manna in the rain; - And above the rills, a voice: - “Son of mine, dost thou complain? - I will make thee to rejoice. - - “Thou shalt be a child to men, - With confusion on thy speech; - And the worlds within thy ken - Shall not lie within thy reach. - - “But the rainbirds shall discover, - And the daffodils unbar, - Quiet waters for their lover - On the shining plains of Har. - - “April rain and iron frost - Shall make flowers to thy hand; - Every field thy feet have crossed - Shall revive from death’s command. - - “Hunting with a leash of wind - Through the corners of the earth, - Take the hounds of Spring to find - The forgotten trails of mirth; - - “For the lone child-heart is dying - Of a love no time can mar, - Hearing not a voice replying - From the gladder vales of Har. - - “Flame thy heart forth! Yet, no haste: - Have not I prepared for thee - The king’s chambers of the East - And the wind halls of the sea? - - “Be a gospeller of things - Nowhere written through the wild, - With that gloaming call of Spring’s, - When old secrets haunt the child. - - “Let the bugler of my going - Wake no clarion of war; - For the paper reeds are blowing - On the river plains of Har.” - - Centuries of soiled renown - To the roaring dark have gone: - There is woe in London town, - And a crying for the dawn. - - April frost and iron rain - Ripen the dead fruit of lust, - And the sons of God remain - The dream children of the dust, - - For their heart hath in derision, - And their jeers have mocked afar, - The delirium of vision - From the holy vales of Har. - - Once in Autumn came a dream; - The white Herald of the North, - Faring West to ford my stream, - Passed my lodge and bade me forth; - - Glad I rose and went with him, - With my shoulder in his hand; - The auroral world grew dim, - And the idle harvest land. - - Then I saw the warder lifting - From its berg the Northern bar, - And eternal snows were drifting - On the wind-bleak plains of Har. - - “Listen humbly,” said my guide. - “I am drear, for I am death,” - Whispered Snow; but Wind replied, - “I outlive thee by a breath, - - I am Time.” And then I heard, - Dearer than all wells of dew, - One gray golden-shafted bird - Hail the uplands; so I knew - - Spring, the angel of our sorrow, - Tarrying so seeming far, - Should return with some long morrow - In the calling vales of Har. - - - - - TO RICHARD LOVELACE - - - Ah, Lovelace, what desires have sway - In the white shadow of your heart, - Which no more measures day by day, - Nor sets the years apart? - - How many seasons for your sake - Have taught men over, age by age, - “Stone walls do not a prison make, - Nor iron bars a cage!”-- - - Since that first April when you fared - Into the Gatehouse, well content, - Caring for nothing so you cared - For honor and for Kent. - - How many, since the April rain - Beat drear and blossomless and hoar - Through London, when you left Shoe Lane, - A-marching to no war! - - Till now, with April on the sea, - And sunshine in the woven year, - The rain-winds loose from reverie - A lyric and a cheer. - - - - - A SEAMARK - - _A Threnody for Robert Louis Stevenson_ - - - Cold, the dull cold! What ails the sun, - And takes the heart out of the day? - What makes the morning look so mean, - The Common so forlorn and gray? - - The wintry city’s granite heart - Beats on in iron mockery, - And like the roaming mountain rains, - I hear the thresh of feet go by. - - It is the lonely human surf - Surging through alleys chill with grime, - The muttering churning ceaseless floe - Adrift out of the North of time. - - Fades, it all fades! I only see - The poster with its reds and blues - Bidding the heart stand still to take - Its desolating stab of news. - - That intimate and magic name: - “Dead in Samoa.” ... Cry your cries, - O city of the golden dome, - Under the gray Atlantic skies! - - But I have wander-biddings now. - Far down the latitudes of sun, - An island mountain of the sea, - Piercing the green and rosy zone, - - Goes up into the wondrous day. - And there the brown-limbed island men - Are bearing up for burial, - Within the sun’s departing ken, - - The master of the roving kind. - And there where time will set no mark - For his irrevocable rest, - Under the spacious melting dark, - - With all the nomad tented stars - About him, they have laid him down - Above the crumbling of the sea, - Beyond the turmoil of renown. - - O all you hearts about the world - In whom the truant gipsy blood, - Under the frost of this pale time, - Sleeps like the daring sap and flood - - That dream of April and reprieve! - You whom the haunted vision drives, - Incredulous of home and ease, - Perfection’s lovers all your lives! - - You whom the wander-spirit loves - To lead by some forgotten clue - Forever vanishing beyond - Horizon brinks forever new; - - The road, unmarked, ordained, whereby - Your brothers of the field and air - Before you, faithful, blind and glad, - Emerged from chaos pair by pair; - - The road whereby you too must come, - In the unvexed and fabled years - Into the country of your dream, - With all your knowledge in arrears! - - You, who can never quite forget - Your glimpse of Beauty as she passed, - The well-head where her knee was pressed, - The dew wherein her foot was cast; - - O you who bid the paint and clay - Be glorious when you are dead, - And fit the plangent words in rhyme - Where the dark secret lurks unsaid; - - You brethren of the light-heart guild, - The mystic fellowcraft of joy, - Who tarry for the news of truth, - And listen for some vast ahoy - - Blown in from sea, who crowd the wharves - With eager eyes that wait the ship - Whose foreign tongue may fill the world - With wondrous tales from lip to lip; - - Our restless loved adventurer, - On secret orders come to him, - Has slipped his cable, cleared the reef, - And melted on the white sea-rim. - - O granite hills, go down in blue! - And like green clouds in opal calms, - You anchored islands of the main, - Float up your loom of feathery palms! - - For deep within your dales, where lies - A valiant earthling stark and dumb, - This savage undiscerning heart - Is with the silent chiefs who come - - To mourn their kin and bear him gifts,-- - Who kiss his hand, and take their place, - This last night he receives his friends, - The journey-wonder on his face. - - He “was not born for age.” Ah no, - For everlasting youth is his! - Part of the lyric of the earth - With spring and leaf and blade he is. - - ’Twill nevermore be April now - But there will lurk a thought of him - At the street corners, gay with flowers - From rainy valleys purple-dim. - - O chiefs, you do not mourn alone! - In that stern North where mystery broods, - Our mother grief has many sons - Bred in those iron solitudes. - - It does not help them, to have laid - Their coil of lightning under seas; - They are as impotent as you - To mend the loosened wrists and knees. - - And yet how many a harvest night, - When the great luminous meteors flare - Along the trenches of the dusk, - The men who dwell beneath the Bear, - - Seeing those vagrants of the sky - Float through the deep beyond their hark, - Like Arabs through the wastes of air,-- - A flash, a dream, from dark to dark,-- - - Must feel the solemn large surmise: - By a dim vast and perilous way - We sweep through undetermined time, - Illumining this quench of clay, - - A moment staunched, then forth again. - Ah, not alone you climb the steep - To set your loving burden down - Against the mighty knees of sleep. - - With you we hold the sombre faith - Where creeds are sown like rain at sea; - And leave the loveliest child of earth - To slumber where he longed to be. - - His fathers lit the dangerous coast - To steer the daring merchant home; - His courage lights the dark’ning port - Where every sea-worn sail must come. - - And since he was the type of all - That strain in us which still must fare, - The fleeting migrant of a day, - Heart-high, outbound for otherwhere, - - Now therefore, where the passing ships - Hang on the edges of the noon, - And Northern liners trail their smoke - Across the rising yellow moon, - - Bound for his home, with shuddering screw - That beats its strength out into speed, - Until the pacing watch descries - On the sea-line a scarlet seed - - Smolder and kindle and set fire - To the dark selvedge of the night, - The deep blue tapestry of stars, - Then sheet the dome in pearly light, - - There in perpetual tides of day, - Where men may praise him and deplore, - The place of his lone grave shall be - A seamark set forevermore, - - High on a peak adrift with mist, - And round whose bases, far beneath - The snow-white wheeling tropic birds, - The emerald dragon breaks his teeth. - - - - - THE WORD OF THE WATER - - _For the Unveiling of the Stevenson Fountain in San Francisco_ - - - God made me simple from the first, - And good to quench your body’s thirst. - Think you he has no ministers - To glad that wayworn soul of yours? - - Here by the thronging Golden Gate - For thousands and for you I wait, - Seeing adventurous sails unfurled - For the four corners of the world. - - Here passed one day, nor came again, - A prince among the tribes of men. - (For man, like me, is from his birth - A vagabond upon this earth.) - - Be thankful, friend, as you pass on, - And pray for Louis Stevenson, - That by whatever trail he fare - He be refreshed in God’s great care! - - - - - PHILLIPS BROOKS - - - This is the white winter day of his burial. - Time has set here of his toiling the span - Earthward, naught else. Cheer him out through the portal, - Heart-beat of Boston, our utmost in man! - - Out in the broad open sun be his funeral, - Under the blue for the city to see. - Over the grieving crowd mourn for him, bugle! - Churches are narrow to hold such as he. - - Here on the steps of the temple he builded, - Rest him a space, while the great city square - Throngs with his people, his thousands, his mourners; - Tears for his peace and a multitude’s prayer. - - How comes it, think you, the town’s traffic pauses - Thus at high noon? Can we wealthmongers grieve? - Here in the sad surprise greatest America - Shows for a moment her heart on her sleeve. - - She who is said to give life-blood for silver, - Proves, without show, she sets higher than gold - Just the straight manhood, clean, gentle, and fearless, - Made in God’s likeness once more as of old. - - Once more the crude makeshift law overproven,-- - Soul pent from sin will seek God in despite; - Once more the gladder way wins revelation,-- - Soul bent on God forgets evil outright. - - Once more the seraph voice sounding to beauty, - Once more the trumpet tongue bidding, no fear! - Once more the new, purer plan’s vindication,-- - Man be God’s forecast, and Heaven is here. - - Bear him to burial, Harvard, thy hero! - Not on thy shoulders alone is he borne; - They of the burden go forth on the morrow, - Heavy and slow, through a world left forlorn. - - No grief for him, for ourselves the lamenting; - What giant arm to stay courage up now? - March we a thousand file up to the City, - Fellow with fellow linked, he taught us how! - - Never dismayed at the dark nor the distance! - Never deployed for the steep nor the storm! - Hear him say, “Hold fast, the night wears to morning! - This God of promise is God to perform.” - - Up with thee, heart of fear, high as the heaven! - Thou hast known one wore this life without stain. - What if for thee and me,--street, Yard, or Common,-- - Such a white captain appear not again! - - Fight on alone! Let the faltering spirit - Within thee recall how he carried a host, - Rearward and van, as Wind shoulders a dust-heap; - One Way till strife be done, strive each his most. - - Take the last vesture of beauty upon thee, - Thou doubting world; and with not an eye dim - Say, when they ask if thou knowest a Saviour, - “Brooks was His brother, and we have known him.” - - - - - JOHN ELIOT BOWEN - - - Here at the desk where once you sat, - Who wander now with poets dead - And summers gone, afield so far, - There sits a stranger in your stead. - - Here day by day men come who knew - Your steadfast ways and loved you well; - And every comer with regret - Has some new thing of praise to tell. - - The poet old, whose lyric heart - Is fresh as dew and bright as flame, - Longs for “his boy,” and finds you not, - And goes the wistful way he came. - - Here where you toiled without reproach, - Builded and loved and dreamed and planned, - At every door, on every page, - Lurks the tradition of your hand. - - And if to you, like reverie, - There comes a thought of how they fare - Whose footsteps go the round you went - Of noisy street and narrow stair, - - Know they have learned a new desire, - Which puts unfaith and faltering by; - And triumph fills their dream because - One life was leal, one hope was high. - - - - - HENRY GEORGE - - - We are only common people, - And he was a man like us. - But he loved his fellows before himself; - And he died for me and you, - To redeem the world anew - From cruelty and greed-- - For love the only creed, - For honor the only law. - - There once was a man of the people, - A man like you and me, - Who worked for his daily bread, - And he loved his fellows before himself. - But he died at the hands of the throng - To redeem the world from wrong, - And we call him the Son of God, - Because of the love he had. - - And there was a man of the people, - Who sat in the people’s chair, - And bade the slaves go free; - For he loved his fellows before himself. - They took his life; but his word - They could not take. It was heard - Over the beautiful earth, - A thunder and whisper of love. - - And there is no other way, - Since man of woman was born, - Than the way of the rebels and saints, - With loving and labor vast, - To redeem the world at last - From cruelty and greed; - For love is the only creed, - And honor the only law. - - - - - ILICET - - - Friends, let him rest - In midnight now. - Desire has gone - On the weary quest - With aching brow; - Until the dawn, - Friends, let him rest. - - With a boy’s desire - He set the cup - To his lips to drink; - The ruddy fire - Was lifted up - At day’s cool brink, - With a boy’s desire. - - The heart of a boy! - He tasted life, - And the bitter sting - Of sorrow in joy, - Failure in strife, - Was pain to wring - The heart of a boy. - - In a childish whim, - He spilled the wine - Upon the floor,-- - In beads on the brim - Was a glitter of brine,-- - Then, out at the door - In a childish whim! - - Out of the storm, - In the flickering light, - A broken glass - Lies on our warm - Hearthstone to-night, - While shadows pass - Out of the storm. - - Friends, let him rest - In midnight now. - Desire has gone - On the weary quest - With aching brow: - Until the dawn, - Friends, let him rest. - - In sorrow and shame - For the craven heart, - In manhood’s breast - With valor’s name, - Let him depart - Unto his rest - In sorrow and shame. - - In after years - God, who bestows - Or withholds the valor, - Shall wipe all tears-- - Haply, who knows?-- - From his face’s pallor - In after years. - - He could not learn - To fight with his peers - In sturdier fashion; - Let him return - Through the night with tears, - Stung with the passion - He could not learn. - - All-bountiful, calm, - Where the great stars burn, - And the spring bloom smothers - The night with balm, - Let him return - To the silent Mother’s - All-bountiful calm. - - Friends, let him rest - In midnight now. - Desire has gone - On the weary quest - With aching brow: - Until the dawn, - Friends, let him rest. - - - - - TO RAPHAEL - - - Master of adored Madonnas, - What is this men say of thee? - Thou wert something less than honor’s - Most exact epitome? - - Yes, they say you loved too many, - Loved too often, loved too well. - Just as if there could be any - Over-loving, Raphael! - - Was it, “Sir, and how came this tress, - Long and raven? Mine are gold!” - You should have made Art your mistress, - Lived an anchorite and old! - - Ah, no doubt these dear good people - On familiar terms with God, - Could devise a parish steeple - Built to heaven without a hod. - - You and Solomon and Cæsar - Were three fellows of a kind; - Not a woman but to please her - You would leave your soul behind. - - Those dead women with their beauty, - How they must have loved you well,-- - Dared to make desire a duty, - With the heretics in hell! - - And your brother, that Catullus, - What a plight he must be in, - If those silver songs that lull us - Were result of mortal sin! - - If the artist were ungodly, - Prurient of mind and heart, - I must think they argue oddly - Who make shrines before his art. - - Not the meanest aspiration - Ever sprung from soul depraved - Into art, but art’s elation - Was the sanctity it craved. - - Oh, no doubt you had your troubles, - Devils blue that blanched your hope. - I dare say your fancy’s bubbles, - Breaking, had a taste of soap. - - Did your lady-loves undo you - In some mediæval way? - Ah, my Raphael, here’s to you! - It is much the same to-day. - - Did their tantalizing laughter - Make your wisdom overbold? - Were you fire at first; and after, - Did their kisses leave you cold? - - Did some fine perfidious Nancy, - With the roses in her hair, - Play the marsh-fire to your fancy - Over quagmires of despair? - - My poor boy, were there more flowers - In your Florence and your Rome, - Wasting through the gorgeous hours, - Than your two hands could bring home? - - Be content; you have your glory; - Life was full and sleep is well. - What the end is of the story, - There’s no paragraph to tell. - - - - - TO P. V. - - - So they would raise your monument, - Old vagabond of lovely earth? - Another answer without words - To Humdrum’s, “What are poets worth?” - - Not much we gave you when alive, - Whom now we lavishly deplore,-- - A little bread, a little wine, - A little caporal--no more. - - Here in our lodging of a day - You roistered till we were appalled; - Departing, in your room we found - A string of golden verses scrawled. - - The princely manor-house of art, - A vagrant artist entertains; - And when he gets him to the road, - Behold, a princely gift remains. - - Abashed, we set your name above - The purse-full patrons of our board; - Remind newcomers with a nudge, - “Verlaine took once what we afford!” - - The gardens of the Luxembourg, - Spreading beneath the brilliant sun, - Shall be your haunt of leisure now - When all your wander years are done. - - There you shall stand, the very mien - You wore in Paris streets of old, - And ponder what a thing is life, - Or watch the chestnut blooms unfold. - - There you will find, I dare surmise, - Another tolerance than ours, - The loving-kindness of the grass, - The tender patience of the flowers. - - And every year, when May returns - To bring the golden age again, - And hope comes back with poetry - In your loved land across the Seine, - - Some youth will come with foreign speech, - Bearing his dream from over sea, - A lover of your flawless craft, - Apprenticed to your poverty. - - He will be mute before you there, - And mark those lineaments which tell - What stormy unrelenting fate - Had one who served his art so well. - - And there be yours, the livelong day, - Beyond the mordant reach of pain, - The little gospel of the leaves, - The _Nunc dimittis_ of the rain! - - - - - A NORSE CHILD’S REQUIEM - - - Sleep soundly, little Thorlak, - Where all thy peers have lain, - A hero of no battle, - A saint without a stain! - - Thy courage be upon thee, - Unblemished by regret, - For that adventure whither - Thy tiny march was set. - - The sunshine be above thee, - With birds and winds and trees. - Thy way-fellows inherit - No better things than these. - - And silence be about thee, - Turned back from this our war - To front alone the valley - Of night without a star. - - The soul of love and valor, - Indifferent to fame, - Be with thee, heart of vikings, - Beyond the breath of blame. - - Thy moiety of manhood - Unspent and fair, go down, - And, unabashed, encounter - Thy brothers of renown. - - So modest in thy freehold - And tenure of the earth, - Thy needs, for all our meddling, - Are few and little worth. - - Content thee, not with pity; - Be solaced, not with tears; - But when the whitethroats waken - Through the revolving years, - - Hereafter be that peerless - And dirging cadence, child, - Thy threnody unsullied, - Melodious, and wild. - - Then winter be thy housing, - Thy lullaby the rain, - Thou hero of no battle, - Thou saint without a stain. - - - - - IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS - - - In the warm blue heart of the hills - My beautiful, beautiful one - Sleeps where he laid him down - Before the journey was done. - - All the long summer day - The ghosts of noon draw nigh, - And the tremulous aspens hear - The footing of winds go by. - - Down to the gates of the sea, - Out of the gates of the west, - Journeys the whispering river - Before the place of his rest. - - The road he loved to follow - When June came by his door, - Out through the dim blue haze - Leads, but allures no more. - - The trailing shadows of clouds - Steal from the slopes and are gone; - The myriad life in the grass - Stirs, but he slumbers on; - - The inland wandering tern - Skreel as they forage and fly; - His loons on the lonely reach - Utter their querulous cry; - - Over the floating lilies - A dragon-fly tacks and steers; - Far in the depth of the blue - A martin settles and veers; - - To every roadside thistle - A gold-brown butterfly clings; - But he no more companions - All the dear vagrant things. - - The strong red journeying sun, - The pale and wandering rain, - Will roam on the hills forever - And find him never again. - - Then twilight falls with the touch - Of a hand that soothes and stills, - And a swamp-robin sings into light - The lone white star of the hills. - - Alone in the dusk he sings, - And a burden of sorrow and wrong - Is lifted up from the earth - And carried away in his song. - - Alone in the dusk he sings, - And the joy of another day - Is folded in peace and borne - On the drift of years away. - - But there in the heart of the hills - My beautiful weary one - Sleeps where he laid him down; - And the large sweet night is begun. - - - - - AN AFTERWORD - - _To G. B. R._ - - - Brother, the world above you - Is very fair to-day, - And all things seem to love you - The old accustomed way. - - Here in the heavenly weather - In June’s white arms you sleep, - Where once on the hills together - Your haunts you used to keep. - - The idling sun that lazes - Along the open field - And gossips to the daisies - Of secrets unrevealed; - - The wind that stirs the grasses - A moment, and then stills - Their trouble as he passes - Up to the darkling hills,-- - - And to the breezy clover - Has many things to say - Of that unwearied rover - Who once went by this way; - - The miles of elm-treed meadows; - The clouds that voyage on, - Streeling their noiseless shadows - From countries of the sun; - - The tranquil river reaches - And the pale stars of dawn; - The thrushes in their beeches - For reverie withdrawn; - - With all your forest fellows - In whom the blind heart calls, - For whom the green leaf yellows, - On whom the red leaf falls; - - The dumb and tiny creatures - Of flower and blade and sod, - That dimly wear the features - And attributes of God; - - The airy migrant comers - On gauzy wings of fire, - Those wanderers and roamers - Of indefinite desire; - - The rainbirds and all dwellers - In solitude and peace, - Those lingerers and foretellers - Of infinite release; - - Yea, all the dear things living - That rove or bask or swim, - Remembering and misgiving, - Have felt the day grow dim. - - Even the glad things growing, - Blossom and fruit and stem, - Are poorer for your going - Because you were of them. - - Yet since you loved to cherish - Their pleading beauty here, - Your heart shall not quite perish - In all the golden year; - - But God’s great dream above them - Must be a tinge less pale, - Because you lived to love them - And make their joy prevail. - - - - - SEVEN WIND SONGS - - - _Now these are the seven wind songs - For Andrew Straton’s death, - Blown through the reeds of the river, - A sigh of the world’s last breath,_ - - _Where the flickering red auroras - Out on the dark sweet hills - Follow all night through the forest - The cry of the whip-poor-wills._ - - _For the meanings of life are many, - But the purpose of love is one, - Journeying, tarrying, lonely - As the sea wind or the sun._ - - - I - - Wind of the Northern land, - Wind of the sea, - No more his dearest hand - Comes back to me. - - Wind of the Northern gloom, - Wind of the sea, - Wandering waifs of doom - Feckless are we. - - Wind of the Northern land, - Wind of the sea, - I cannot understand - How these things be. - - - II - - Wind of the low red morn - At the world’s end, - Over the standing corn - Whisper and bend. - - Then through the low red morn - At the world’s end, - Far out from sorrow’s bourne, - Down glory’s trend, - - Tell the last years forlorn - At the world’s end, - Of my one peerless born - Comrade and friend. - - - III - - Wind of the April stars, - Wind of the dawn, - Whether God nears or fars, - He lived and shone. - - Wind of the April night, - Wind of the dawn, - No more my heart’s delight - Bugles me on. - - Wind of the April rain, - Wind of the dawn, - Lull the old world from pain - Till pain be gone. - - - IV - - Wind of the summer noon, - Wind of the hills, - Gently the hand of June - Stays thee and stills. - - Far off, untouched by tears, - Raptures or ills, - Sleeps he a thousand years - Out on the hills. - - Wind of the summer noon, - Wind of the hills, - Is the land fair and boon - Whither he wills? - - - V - - Wind of the gulfs of night, - Wind of the sea, - Where the pale streamers light - My world for me,-- - - Breath of the wintry Norns, - Frost-touch or sleep,-- - He whom my spirit mourns - Deep beyond deep - - To the last void and dim - Where ages stream-- - Is there no room for him - In all this dream? - - - VI - - Wind of the outer waste, - Threne of the outer world, - Leash of the stars unlaced, - Morning unfurled, - - Somewhere at God’s great need, - I know not how, - With the old strength and speed - He is come now; - - Therefore my soul is glad - With the old pride, - Tho’ this small life is sad - Here in my side. - - - VII - - Wind of the driven snow, - Wind of the sea, - On a long trail and slow - Farers are we. - - Wind of the Northern gloom, - Wind of the sea, - Shall I one day resume - His love for me? - - Wind of the driven snow, - Wind of the sea, - Then shall thy vagrant know - How these things be. - - _These are the seven wind songs - For Andrew Straton’s rest, - From the hills of the Scarlet Hunter - And the trail of the endless quest._ - - _The wells of the sunrise harken, - They wait for a year and a day: - Only the calm sure thrushes - Fluting the world away!_ - - _For the husk of life is sorrow; - But the kernels of joy remain, - Teeming and blind and eternal - As the hill wind or the rain._ - - - - - ANDREW STRATON - - - Andrew Straton was my friend, - With his Saxon eyes and hair, - And his loyal viking spirit, - Like an islesman of the North - With his earldom on the sea. - - At his birth the mighty Mother - Made of him a fondling one, - Hushed from pain within her arms, - With her seal upon his lips; - - And from that day he was numbered - With the sons of consolation, - Peace and cheer were in his hands, - And her secret in his will. - - Now the night has Andrew Straton - Housed from wind and storm forever - In a chamber of the gloom - Where no window fronts the morning, - Lulled to rest at last from roving - To the music of the rain. - - And his sleep is in the far-off - Alien villages of the dusk, - Where there is no voice of welcome - To the country of the strangers, - Save the murmur of the pines. - - And the fitful winds all day - Through the grass with restless footfalls - Haunt about his narrow door, - Muttering their vast unknown - Border balladry of time, - To the hoarse rote of the sea. - - There he reassumes repose, - He who never learned unrest - Here amid our fury of toil, - Undisturbed though all about him - To the cohorts of the night - Sound the bugles of the spring; - And his slumber is not broken - When along the granite hills - Flare the torches of the dawn. - - More to me than kith or kin - Was the silence of his speech; - And the quiet of his eyes, - Gathered from the lonely sweep - Of the hyacinthine hills, - Better to the failing spirit - Than a river land in June: - And to look for him at evening - Was more joy than many friends. - - As the woodland brooks at noon - Were his brown and gentle hands, - And his face as the hill country - Touched with the red autumn sun - - Frank and patient and untroubled - Save by the old trace of doom - In the story of the world. - So the years went brightening by. - - Now a lyric wind and weather - Breaks the leaguer of the frost, - And the shining rough month March - Crumbles into sun and rain; - But the glad and murmurous year - Wheels above his rest and wakens - Not a dream for Andrew Straton. - - Now the uplands hold an echo - From the meadow lands at morn; - And the marshes hear the rivers - Rouse their giant heart once more,-- - - Hear the crunching floe start seaward - From a thousand valley floors; - While far on amid the hills - Under stars in the clear night, - The replying, the replying, - Of the ice-cold rivulets - Plashing down the solemn gorges - In their arrowy blue speed, - Fills and frets the crisp blue twilight - With innumerable sound,-- - With the whisper of the spring. - - But the melting fields are empty, - Something ails the bursting year. - - Ah, now helpless, O my rivers, - Are your lifted voices now! - Where is all the sweet compassion - Once your murmur held for me? - Cradled in your dells, I listened - To your crooning, learned your language, - Born your brother and your kin. - - When I had the morn for revel, - You made music at my door; - Now the days go darkling on, - And I cannot guess your words. - Shall young joy have troops of neighbors, - While this grief must house alone? - - O my brothers of the hills, - Who abide through stress and change, - On the borders of our sorrow, - With no part in human tears, - Lift me up your voice again - And put by this grievous thing! - - Ah, my rivers, Andrew Straton - Leaves me here a vacant world! - - I must hear the roar of cities - And the jargon of the schools, - With no word of that one spirit - Who was steadfast as the sun - And kept silence with the stars. - I must sit and hear the babble - Of the worldling and the fool, - Prating know-alls and reformers - Busy to improve on man, - With their chatter about God; - Nowhere, nowhere the blue eyes, - With their swift and grave regard, - Falling on me with God’s look. - - I have seen and known and loved - One who was too sure for sorrow, - Too serenely wise for haste, - Too compassionate for scorn, - Fearless man and faultless comrade, - One great heart whose beat was love. - - In a thousand thousand hollows - Of the hills to-day there twinkle - Icy-blue handbreadths of April, - Where the sinking snows decay - In the everlasting sun; - And a thousand tiny creatures - Stretch their heart to fill the world. - - Now along the wondrous trail - Andrew Straton loved to follow - Day by day and year on year, - The awaited sure return - Of all sleeping forest things - Is reheralded abroad, - Till the places of their journey,-- - Wells the frost no longer hushes, - Ways no drift can bury now, - Wood and stream and road and hillside,-- - Hail their coming as of old. - - But my beautiful lost comrade - Of the golden heart, whose life - Rang through April like a voice - Through some Norland saga, crying - _Skoal_ to death, comes not again; - Time shall not revive that presence - More desired than all the flowers, - Longer wished for than the birds. - - April comes, but April’s lover - Is departed and not here. - - Sojourning beyond the frost, - He delays; and now no more,-- - Though the goldenwings are come - With their resonant tattoo, - And along the barrier pines - Morning reddens on the hills - Where the thrushes wake before it,-- - No more to the summoning flutes - Of the forest Andrew Straton - Gets him forth afoot, light-hearted, - On the unfrequented ways - With companionable Spring. - - Only the old dreams return. - So I shape me here this fancy, - Foolish me! of Andrew Straton; - How the lands of that new kindred - Have detained him with allegiance, - And some far day I shall find him, - There as here my only captain, - Master of the utmost isles - In the ampler straits of sea. - - Out of the blue melting distance - Of the dreamy southward range - Journey back the vagrant winds, - Sure and indolent as time; - And the trembling wakened wood-flowers - Lift their gentle tiny faces - To the sunlight; and the rainbirds - From the lonely cedar barrens - Utter their far pleading cry. - - Up across the swales and burnt lands - Where the soft gray tinges purple, - Mouldering into scarlet mist, - Comes the sound as of a marching, - The low murmur of the April - In the many-rivered hills. - - Then there stirs the old vague rapture, - Like a wanderer come back, - Still desiring, scathed but deathless, - From beyond the bourne of tears, - Wayworn to his vacant cabin, - To this foolish fearless heart. - - Soon the large mild stars of springtime - Will resume the ancient twilight - And restore the heart of earth - To unvexed eternal poise; - For the great Will, calm and lonely, - Can no mortal grief derange, - No lost memories perturb; - And the sluices of the morning - Will be opened, and the daybreak - Well with bird-calls and with brook-notes, - Till there be no more despair - In the gold dream of the world. - - - - - THE GRAVE-TREE - - - Let me have a scarlet maple - For the grave-tree at my head, - With the quiet sun behind it, - In the years when I am dead. - - Let me have it for a signal, - Where the long winds stream and stream, - Clear across the dim blue distance, - Like a horn blown in a dream; - - Scarlet when the April vanguard - Bugles up the laggard Spring, - Scarlet when the bannered Autumn, - Marches by unwavering. - - It will comfort me with honey - When the shining rifts and showers - Sweep across the purple valley - And bring back the forest flowers. - - It will be my leafy cabin, - Large enough when June returns - And I hear the golden thrushes - Flute and hesitate by turns. - - And in fall, some yellow morning, - When the stealthy frost has come, - Leaf by leaf it will befriend me - As with comrades going home. - - Let me have the Silent Valley - And the hill that fronts the east, - So that I can watch the morning - Redden and the stars released. - - Leave me in the Great Lone Country, - For I shall not be afraid - With the shy moose and the beaver - There within my scarlet shade. - - I would sleep, but not too soundly, - Where the sunning partridge drums, - Till the crickets hush before him - When the Scarlet Hunter comes. - - That will be in warm September, - In the stillness of the year, - When the river-blue is deepest - And the other world is near. - - When the apples burn their reddest - And the corn is in the sheaves, - I shall stir and waken lightly - At a footfall in the leaves. - - It will be the Scarlet Hunter - Come to tell me time is done; - On the idle hills forever - There will stand the idle sun. - - There the wind will stay to whisper - Many wonders to the reeds; - But I shall not fear to follow - Where my Scarlet Hunter leads. - - I shall know him in the darkling - Murmur of the river bars, - While his feet are on the mountains - Treading out the smoldering stars. - - I shall know him, in the sunshine - Sleeping in my scarlet tree, - Long before he halts beside it - Stooping down to summon me. - - Then fear not, my friends, to leave me - In the boding autumn vast; - There are many things to think of - When the roving days are past. - - Leave me by the scarlet maple, - When the journeying shadows fail, - Waiting till the Scarlet Hunter - Pass upon the endless trail. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of By the Aurelian Wall and Other Elegies, by -Bliss Carman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BY THE AURELIAN WALL *** - -***** This file should be named 53053-0.txt or 53053-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/0/5/53053/ - -Produced by Larry B. 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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: By the Aurelian Wall and Other Elegies - -Author: Bliss Carman - -Release Date: September 15, 2016 [EBook #53053] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BY THE AURELIAN WALL *** - - - - -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"> -<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="349" height="500" alt="[Image -of the book's cover unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3"></a>{3}</span></p> - -<p class="cb">By the Aurelian Wall</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4"></a>{4}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5"></a>{5}</span> </p> - -<div class="bbox"> -<div class="bbox2"> -<h1> -By the Aurelian Wall</h1> -<p class="cb"><big><i>And Other Elegies</i></big></p> -</div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="cb"><big>By <span class="smcap">Bliss Carman</span></big><br /> - -<i>Author of</i><br /> -Low Tide on Grand Pré, Behind the Arras,<br /> -Ballads of Lost Haven, &c.</p> -</div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="c"> -<img src="images/colophon.png" width="100" height="146" alt="" title="" /> -</p> -</div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="cb"><big>Lamson, Wolffe and Company</big><br /> -Boston, New York and London<br /> -MDCCCXCVIII</p> -</div> -</div> -<p class="c"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6"></a>{6}</span><br /> -Copyright, 1898,<br /> -By Lamson, Wolffe and Company.<br /> -———<br /> -<i>All rights reserved.</i><br /> -<br /><br /> -<i>Norwood Press</i><br /> -<i>J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith</i><br /> -<i>Norwood Mass. U.S.A.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7"></a>{7}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_9"><span class="smcap">By the Aurelian Wall</span>, 9</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_15"><span class="smcap">The White Gull</span>, 15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_32"><span class="smcap">The Country of Har</span>, 32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_42"><span class="smcap">To Richard Lovelace</span>, 42</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_44"><span class="smcap">A Seamark</span>, 44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_57"><span class="smcap">The Word of the Water</span>, 57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_59"><span class="smcap">Phillips Brooks</span>, 59</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_64"><span class="smcap">John Eliot Bowen</span>, 64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_67"><span class="smcap">Henry George</span>, 67</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_70"><span class="smcap">Ilicet</span>, 70</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_76"><span class="smcap">To Raphael</span>, 76</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_82"><span class="smcap">To P. V.</span>, 82</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_87"><span class="smcap">A Norse Child’s Requiem</span>, 87</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_91"><span class="smcap">In the Heart of the Hills</span>, 91</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_96"><span class="smcap">An Afterword</span>, 96</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_102"><span class="smcap">Seven Wind Songs</span>, 102</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_112"><span class="smcap">Andrew Straton</span>, 112</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#page_127"><span class="smcap">The Grave-Tree</span>, 127</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8"></a>{8}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9"></a>{9}</span> </p> - -<h2><a name="BY_THE_AURELIAN_WALL" id="BY_THE_AURELIAN_WALL"></a>BY THE AURELIAN WALL<br /><br /> -<small><i>In Memory of John Keats</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">By</span> the Aurelian Wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the long shadows of the centuries fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Caius Cestius’ tomb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A weary mortal seeking rest found room<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For quiet burial,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leaving among his friends<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A book of lyrics.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such untold amends<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A traveller might make<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a strange country, bidden to partake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before he farther wends;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10"></a>{10}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who shyly should bestow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The foreign reed-flute they had seen him blow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And finger cunningly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On one of the dark children standing by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then lift his cloak and go.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The years pass. And the child<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thoughtful beyond his fellows, grave and mild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Treasures the rough-made toy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until one day he blows it for clear joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wakes the music wild.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His fondness makes it seem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thing first fashioned in delirious dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some god had cut and tried,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And filled with yearning passion, and cast aside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On some far woodland stream,—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11"></a>{11}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">After long years to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Found by the stranger and brought over sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A marvel and delight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To ease the noon and pierce the dark blue night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For children such as he.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He learns the silver strain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherewith the ghostly houses of gray rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lonely valleys ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the untroubled whitethroats make the spring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A world without a stain;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then on his river reed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With strange and unsuspected notes that plead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of their own wild accord<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For utterances no bird’s throat could afford,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifts it to human need.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12"></a>{12}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His comrades leave their play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When calling and compelling far away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By river-slope and hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He pipes their wayward footsteps where he will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the long lovely day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Even his elders come.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Surely the child is elvish,” murmur some,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shake the knowing head;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Give us the good old simple things instead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our fathers used to hum.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Others at the open door<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smile when they hear what they have hearkened for<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These many summers now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Believing they should live to learn somehow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Things never known before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13"></a>{13}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But he can only tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How the flute’s whisper lures him with a spell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet always just eludes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lost perfection over which he broods;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And how he loves it well.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till all the country-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Familiar with his piping far and wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has taken for its own<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That weird enchantment down the evening blown,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its glory and its pride.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And so his splendid name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who left the book of lyrics and small fame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among his fellows then,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spreads through the world like autumn—who knows when?—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till all the hillsides flame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14"></a>{14}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Grand Pré and Margaree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear it upbruited from the unresting sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the small Gaspareau,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose yellow leaves repeat it, seems to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A new felicity.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Even the shadows tall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Walking at sundown through the plain, recall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mound the grasses keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where once a mortal came and found long sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the Aurelian Wall.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15"></a>{15}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_WHITE_GULL" id="THE_WHITE_GULL"></a>THE WHITE GULL<br /><br /> -<small><i>For the Centenary of the Birth of Shelley</i></small></h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Up</span> by the idling reef-set bell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tide comes in;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to the idle heart to-day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind has many things to say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sea has many a tale to tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His younger kin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16"></a>{16}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For we are his, bone of his bone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Breath of his breath;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The doom tides sway us at their will;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sky of being rounds us still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And over us at last is blown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind of death.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A hundred</span> years ago to-day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There came a soul,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pilgrim of the perilous light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Treading the spheral paths of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On whom the word and vision lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With dread control.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17"></a>{17}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now the pale Summer lingers near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And talks to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all her wayward journeyings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the old, sweet, forgotten things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She loved and lost and dreamed of here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the blue sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The great cloud-navies, one by one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bend sails and fill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From ports below the round sea-verge;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I watch them gather and emerge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And steer for havens of the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the hill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18"></a>{18}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The gray sea-horses troop and roam;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shadows fly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the wind-floor at their heels;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And where the golden daylight wheels,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A white gull searches the blue dome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With keening cry.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And something, Shelley, like thy fame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dares the wide morn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that sea-rover’s glimmering flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if the Northland and the night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should hear thy splendid valiant name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put scorn to scorn.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19"></a>{19}</span></p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thou heart of all the hearts of men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tameless and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And vague as that marsh-wandering fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leading the world’s outworn desire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A night march down this ghostly fen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From sea to sea!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Through this divided camp of dream<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy feet have passed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As one who should set hand to rouse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His comrades from their heavy drowse;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For only their own deeds redeem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God’s sons at last.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20"></a>{20}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the dim world will dream and sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath thy hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As poppies in the windy morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or valleys where the standing corn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whispers when One goes forth to reap<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weary land.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O captain of the rebel host,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lead forth and far!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy toiling troopers of the night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Press on the unavailing fight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sombre field is not yet lost,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With thee for star.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21"></a>{21}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thy lips have set the hail and haste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of clarions free<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bugle down the wintry verge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of time forever, where the surge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thunders and crumbles on a waste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And open sea.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Did the cold Norns who pattern life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With haste and rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Take thought to cheer their pilgrims on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through trackless twilights vast and wan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the failure and the strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From quest to quest,—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22"></a>{22}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Set their last kiss upon thy face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And let thee go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To tell the haunted whisperings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of unimaginable things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which plague thy fellows with a trace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They cannot know?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So they might fashion and send forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their house of doom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the pale splendor of the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In vibrant, hurled, impetuous flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A resonant meteor of the North<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From gloom to gloom.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23"></a>{23}</span></p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I think</span> thou must have wandered far<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Spring for guide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And heard the shy-born forest flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Talk to the wind among the showers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through sudden doorways left ajar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the wind sighed;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thou must have heard the marching sweep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of blown white rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go volleying up the icy kills,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And watched with Summer when the hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muttered of freedom in their sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And slept again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24"></a>{24}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Surely thou wert a lonely one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gentle and wild;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the round sun delayed for thee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the red moorlands by the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Tyrian Autumn lured thee on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A wistful child,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To rove the tranquil, vacant year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From dale to dale;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the great Mother took thy face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Between her hands for one long gaze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bade thee follow without fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The endless trail.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25"></a>{25}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And thy clear spirit, half forlorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeking its own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dwelt with the nomad tents of rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Marched with the gold-red ranks of grain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or ranged the frontiers of the morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And was alone.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One brief perturbed and glorious day!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How couldst thou learn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The quiet of the forest sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the dark, whispering rivers run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The journey that hath no delay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And no return?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26"></a>{26}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And yet within thee flamed and sang<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dauntless heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knowing all passion and the pain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On man’s imperious disdain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since God’s great part in thee gave pang<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To earth’s frail part.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It held the voices of the hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep in its core;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wandering shadows of the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Called to it,—would not let it be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The harvest of those barren rills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was in its store.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27"></a>{27}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thine was a love that strives and calls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Outcast from home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burning to free the soul of man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With some new life. How strange, a ban<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should set thy sleep beneath the walls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of changeless Rome!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">More soft, I deem, from spring to spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy sleep would be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where this far western headland lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With its imperial azure skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under thee hearing beat and swing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The eternal sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28"></a>{28}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where all the livelong brooding day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all night long,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The far sea-journeying wind should come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down to the doorway of thy home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lure thee ever the old way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the old song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the dim forest would so house<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy heart so dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even the low surf of the rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where ghostly centuries complain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might beat against thy door and rouse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No heartache here.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29"></a>{29}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For here the thrushes, calm, supreme,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forever reign,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose gloriously kingly golden throats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Regather their forgotten notes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In keys where lurk no ruin of dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No tinge of pain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And here the ruthless noisy sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the tide’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The strong gray wrestler, should in vain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put forth his hand on thee again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift up his voice and call to thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thou be still.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30"></a>{30}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For thou hast overcome at last;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fate and fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And strife and rumor now no more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Vex thee by any wind-vexed shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the strewn ways thy feet have passed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far, far from here.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up by the idling, idling bell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tide comes in;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to the restless heart to-day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind has many things to say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sea has many a tale to tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His younger kin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31"></a>{31}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The gray sea-horses troop and roam;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shadows fly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the wind-floor at their heels;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And where the golden daylight wheels,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A white gull searches the blue dome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With keening cry.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32"></a>{32}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_COUNTRY_OF_HAR" id="THE_COUNTRY_OF_HAR"></a>THE COUNTRY OF HAR<br /><br /> -<small><i>For the Centenary of Blake’s “Songs of Innocence”</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Once</span> a hundred years ago<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was a light in London town,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For an angel of the snow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Walked her street sides up and down.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As a visionary boy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He put forth his hand to smite<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Songs of innocence and joy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the crying chords of night,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33"></a>{33}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a muttering of thunder<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heard beneath the polar star;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For his soul was all a-wonder<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the calling vales of Har.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He, a traveller by day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a pilgrim of the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Took his uncompanioned way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the journey is not done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where no mortal might aspire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His clear heart was set to climb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the uplands of desire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the river wells of time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34"></a>{34}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Home he wandered to the valley<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the springs of morning are,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sea-bright cohorts rally<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the twilit plains of Har.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There he found the Book of Thel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the lily-garth of bliss,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fashioned, how no man can tell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As a white windflower is:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like the lulling of a sigh<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Uttered in the trembling grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When a shower is gone by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sweeping shadows pass,—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35"></a>{35}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Through the hyacinthine weather,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wheel them down without a jar,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heaving all the dappled heather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the streaming vales of Har.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There was manna in the rain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And above the rills, a voice:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Son of mine, dost thou complain?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will make thee to rejoice.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thou shalt be a child to men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With confusion on thy speech;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the worlds within thy ken<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall not lie within thy reach.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36"></a>{36}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“But the rainbirds shall discover,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the daffodils unbar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quiet waters for their lover<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the shining plains of Har.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“April rain and iron frost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall make flowers to thy hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every field thy feet have crossed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall revive from death’s command.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Hunting with a leash of wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the corners of the earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Take the hounds of Spring to find<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The forgotten trails of mirth;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37"></a>{37}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“For the lone child-heart is dying<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a love no time can mar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hearing not a voice replying<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the gladder vales of Har.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Flame thy heart forth! Yet, no haste:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have not I prepared for thee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The king’s chambers of the East<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wind halls of the sea?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Be a gospeller of things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nowhere written through the wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With that gloaming call of Spring’s,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When old secrets haunt the child.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38"></a>{38}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Let the bugler of my going<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wake no clarion of war;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the paper reeds are blowing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the river plains of Har.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Centuries of soiled renown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the roaring dark have gone:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is woe in London town,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a crying for the dawn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">April frost and iron rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ripen the dead fruit of lust,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sons of God remain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dream children of the dust,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39"></a>{39}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For their heart hath in derision,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their jeers have mocked afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The delirium of vision<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the holy vales of Har.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once in Autumn came a dream;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The white Herald of the North,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faring West to ford my stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Passed my lodge and bade me forth;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Glad I rose and went with him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With my shoulder in his hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The auroral world grew dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the idle harvest land.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40"></a>{40}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then I saw the warder lifting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From its berg the Northern bar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And eternal snows were drifting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the wind-bleak plains of Har.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Listen humbly,” said my guide.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I am drear, for I am death,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whispered Snow; but Wind replied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I outlive thee by a breath,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am Time.” And then I heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dearer than all wells of dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One gray golden-shafted bird<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hail the uplands; so I knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41"></a>{41}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Spring, the angel of our sorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tarrying so seeming far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should return with some long morrow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the calling vales of Har.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42"></a>{42}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_RICHARD_LOVELACE" id="TO_RICHARD_LOVELACE"></a>TO RICHARD LOVELACE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Ah</span>, Lovelace, what desires have sway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the white shadow of your heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which no more measures day by day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor sets the years apart?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How many seasons for your sake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have taught men over, age by age,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Stone walls do not a prison make,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor iron bars a cage!”—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43"></a>{43}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Since that first April when you fared<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the Gatehouse, well content,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caring for nothing so you cared<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For honor and for Kent.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How many, since the April rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beat drear and blossomless and hoar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through London, when you left Shoe Lane,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A-marching to no war!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till now, with April on the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sunshine in the woven year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rain-winds loose from reverie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A lyric and a cheer.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44"></a>{44}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_SEAMARK" id="A_SEAMARK"></a>A SEAMARK<br /><br /> -<small><i>A Threnody for Robert Louis Stevenson</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Cold</span>, the dull cold! What ails the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And takes the heart out of the day?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What makes the morning look so mean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Common so forlorn and gray?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wintry city’s granite heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beats on in iron mockery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like the roaming mountain rains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear the thresh of feet go by.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45"></a>{45}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is the lonely human surf<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Surging through alleys chill with grime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The muttering churning ceaseless floe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adrift out of the North of time.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fades, it all fades! I only see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The poster with its reds and blues<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bidding the heart stand still to take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its desolating stab of news.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That intimate and magic name:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Dead in Samoa.” ... Cry your cries,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O city of the golden dome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the gray Atlantic skies!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46"></a>{46}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But I have wander-biddings now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far down the latitudes of sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An island mountain of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Piercing the green and rosy zone,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Goes up into the wondrous day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there the brown-limbed island men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are bearing up for burial,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within the sun’s departing ken,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The master of the roving kind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there where time will set no mark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For his irrevocable rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the spacious melting dark,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47"></a>{47}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With all the nomad tented stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About him, they have laid him down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the crumbling of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the turmoil of renown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O all you hearts about the world<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In whom the truant gipsy blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the frost of this pale time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleeps like the daring sap and flood<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That dream of April and reprieve!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You whom the haunted vision drives,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Incredulous of home and ease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perfection’s lovers all your lives!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48"></a>{48}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You whom the wander-spirit loves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lead by some forgotten clue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forever vanishing beyond<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Horizon brinks forever new;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The road, unmarked, ordained, whereby<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your brothers of the field and air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before you, faithful, blind and glad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Emerged from chaos pair by pair;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The road whereby you too must come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the unvexed and fabled years<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the country of your dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all your knowledge in arrears!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49"></a>{49}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You, who can never quite forget<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your glimpse of Beauty as she passed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The well-head where her knee was pressed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dew wherein her foot was cast;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O you who bid the paint and clay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be glorious when you are dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fit the plangent words in rhyme<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the dark secret lurks unsaid;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You brethren of the light-heart guild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mystic fellowcraft of joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who tarry for the news of truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And listen for some vast ahoy<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50"></a>{50}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Blown in from sea, who crowd the wharves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With eager eyes that wait the ship<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose foreign tongue may fill the world<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With wondrous tales from lip to lip;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our restless loved adventurer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On secret orders come to him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has slipped his cable, cleared the reef,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And melted on the white sea-rim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O granite hills, go down in blue!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like green clouds in opal calms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You anchored islands of the main,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Float up your loom of feathery palms!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51"></a>{51}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For deep within your dales, where lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A valiant earthling stark and dumb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This savage undiscerning heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is with the silent chiefs who come<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To mourn their kin and bear him gifts,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who kiss his hand, and take their place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This last night he receives his friends,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The journey-wonder on his face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He “was not born for age.” Ah no,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For everlasting youth is his!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Part of the lyric of the earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With spring and leaf and blade he is.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52"></a>{52}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Twill nevermore be April now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But there will lurk a thought of him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the street corners, gay with flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From rainy valleys purple-dim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O chiefs, you do not mourn alone!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that stern North where mystery broods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our mother grief has many sons<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bred in those iron solitudes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It does not help them, to have laid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their coil of lightning under seas;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They are as impotent as you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To mend the loosened wrists and knees.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53"></a>{53}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And yet how many a harvest night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the great luminous meteors flare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the trenches of the dusk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The men who dwell beneath the Bear,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Seeing those vagrants of the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Float through the deep beyond their hark,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like Arabs through the wastes of air,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A flash, a dream, from dark to dark,—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Must feel the solemn large surmise:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By a dim vast and perilous way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We sweep through undetermined time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Illumining this quench of clay,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54"></a>{54}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A moment staunched, then forth again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, not alone you climb the steep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To set your loving burden down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the mighty knees of sleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With you we hold the sombre faith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where creeds are sown like rain at sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leave the loveliest child of earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To slumber where he longed to be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His fathers lit the dangerous coast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To steer the daring merchant home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His courage lights the dark’ning port<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where every sea-worn sail must come.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55"></a>{55}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And since he was the type of all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That strain in us which still must fare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fleeting migrant of a day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heart-high, outbound for otherwhere,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now therefore, where the passing ships<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hang on the edges of the noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Northern liners trail their smoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the rising yellow moon,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bound for his home, with shuddering screw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That beats its strength out into speed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the pacing watch descries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the sea-line a scarlet seed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56"></a>{56}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Smolder and kindle and set fire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the dark selvedge of the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deep blue tapestry of stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then sheet the dome in pearly light,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There in perpetual tides of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where men may praise him and deplore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The place of his lone grave shall be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A seamark set forevermore,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">High on a peak adrift with mist,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round whose bases, far beneath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The snow-white wheeling tropic birds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The emerald dragon breaks his teeth.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57"></a>{57}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_WORD_OF_THE_WATER" id="THE_WORD_OF_THE_WATER"></a>THE WORD OF THE WATER<br /><br /> -<small><i>For the Unveiling of the Stevenson Fountain in San Francisco</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">God</span> made me simple from the first,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And good to quench your body’s thirst.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Think you he has no ministers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To glad that wayworn soul of yours?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here by the thronging Golden Gate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For thousands and for you I wait,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeing adventurous sails unfurled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the four corners of the world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58"></a>{58}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here passed one day, nor came again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A prince among the tribes of men.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(For man, like me, is from his birth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A vagabond upon this earth.)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Be thankful, friend, as you pass on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pray for Louis Stevenson,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That by whatever trail he fare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He be refreshed in God’s great care!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59"></a>{59}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="PHILLIPS_BROOKS" id="PHILLIPS_BROOKS"></a>PHILLIPS BROOKS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">This</span> is the white winter day of his burial.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time has set here of his toiling the span<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Earthward, naught else. Cheer him out through the portal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heart-beat of Boston, our utmost in man!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out in the broad open sun be his funeral,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the blue for the city to see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the grieving crowd mourn for him, bugle!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Churches are narrow to hold such as he.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60"></a>{60}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here on the steps of the temple he builded,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rest him a space, while the great city square<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Throngs with his people, his thousands, his mourners;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tears for his peace and a multitude’s prayer.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How comes it, think you, the town’s traffic pauses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus at high noon? Can we wealthmongers grieve?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here in the sad surprise greatest America<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shows for a moment her heart on her sleeve.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She who is said to give life-blood for silver,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Proves, without show, she sets higher than gold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just the straight manhood, clean, gentle, and fearless,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made in God’s likeness once more as of old.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61"></a>{61}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once more the crude makeshift law overproven,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soul pent from sin will seek God in despite;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once more the gladder way wins revelation,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soul bent on God forgets evil outright.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once more the seraph voice sounding to beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once more the trumpet tongue bidding, no fear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once more the new, purer plan’s vindication,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Man be God’s forecast, and Heaven is here.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bear him to burial, Harvard, thy hero!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not on thy shoulders alone is he borne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They of the burden go forth on the morrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heavy and slow, through a world left forlorn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62"></a>{62}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No grief for him, for ourselves the lamenting;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What giant arm to stay courage up now?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">March we a thousand file up to the City,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fellow with fellow linked, he taught us how!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Never dismayed at the dark nor the distance!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never deployed for the steep nor the storm!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear him say, “Hold fast, the night wears to morning!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This God of promise is God to perform.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up with thee, heart of fear, high as the heaven!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast known one wore this life without stain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What if for thee and me,—street, Yard, or Common,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such a white captain appear not again!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63"></a>{63}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fight on alone! Let the faltering spirit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within thee recall how he carried a host,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rearward and van, as Wind shoulders a dust-heap;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One Way till strife be done, strive each his most.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take the last vesture of beauty upon thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou doubting world; and with not an eye dim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Say, when they ask if thou knowest a Saviour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Brooks was His brother, and we have known him.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64"></a>{64}</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="JOHN_ELIOT_BOWEN" id="JOHN_ELIOT_BOWEN"></a>JOHN ELIOT BOWEN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Here</span> at the desk where once you sat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who wander now with poets dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And summers gone, afield so far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There sits a stranger in your stead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here day by day men come who knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your steadfast ways and loved you well;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And every comer with regret<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has some new thing of praise to tell.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65"></a>{65}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The poet old, whose lyric heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is fresh as dew and bright as flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Longs for “his boy,” and finds you not,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And goes the wistful way he came.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here where you toiled without reproach,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Builded and loved and dreamed and planned,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At every door, on every page,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lurks the tradition of your hand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And if to you, like reverie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There comes a thought of how they fare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose footsteps go the round you went<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of noisy street and narrow stair,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66"></a>{66}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Know they have learned a new desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which puts unfaith and faltering by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And triumph fills their dream because<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One life was leal, one hope was high.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67"></a>{67}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="HENRY_GEORGE" id="HENRY_GEORGE"></a>HENRY GEORGE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">We</span> are only common people,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he was a man like us.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he loved his fellows before himself;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he died for me and you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To redeem the world anew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From cruelty and greed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For love the only creed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For honor the only law.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68"></a>{68}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There once was a man of the people,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A man like you and me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who worked for his daily bread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he loved his fellows before himself.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he died at the hands of the throng<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To redeem the world from wrong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we call him the Son of God,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because of the love he had.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there was a man of the people,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who sat in the people’s chair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bade the slaves go free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he loved his fellows before himself.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They took his life; but his word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They could not take. It was heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the beautiful earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thunder and whisper of love.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69"></a>{69}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there is no other way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since man of woman was born,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than the way of the rebels and saints,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With loving and labor vast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To redeem the world at last<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From cruelty and greed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For love is the only creed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And honor the only law.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70"></a>{70}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="ILICET" id="ILICET"></a>ILICET</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Friends</span>, let him rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In midnight now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Desire has gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the weary quest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With aching brow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Friends, let him rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71"></a>{71}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With a boy’s desire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He set the cup<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To his lips to drink;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ruddy fire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was lifted up<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At day’s cool brink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a boy’s desire.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The heart of a boy!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He tasted life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bitter sting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of sorrow in joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Failure in strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was pain to wring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heart of a boy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72"></a>{72}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In a childish whim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He spilled the wine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the floor,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In beads on the brim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was a glitter of brine,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, out at the door<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a childish whim!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out of the storm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the flickering light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A broken glass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lies on our warm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hearthstone to-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While shadows pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of the storm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73"></a>{73}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Friends, let him rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In midnight now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Desire has gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the weary quest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With aching brow:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Friends, let him rest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In sorrow and shame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the craven heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In manhood’s breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With valor’s name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let him depart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto his rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In sorrow and shame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74"></a>{74}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In after years<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God, who bestows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or withholds the valor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall wipe all tears—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Haply, who knows?—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From his face’s pallor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In after years.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He could not learn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To fight with his peers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In sturdier fashion;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let him return<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the night with tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stung with the passion<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He could not learn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75"></a>{75}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All-bountiful, calm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the great stars burn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the spring bloom smothers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The night with balm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let him return<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the silent Mother’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All-bountiful calm.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Friends, let him rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In midnight now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Desire has gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the weary quest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With aching brow:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Friends, let him rest.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76"></a>{76}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_RAPHAEL" id="TO_RAPHAEL"></a>TO RAPHAEL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Master</span> of adored Madonnas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What is this men say of thee?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou wert something less than honor’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most exact epitome?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes, they say you loved too many,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loved too often, loved too well.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just as if there could be any<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over-loving, Raphael!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77"></a>{77}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Was it, “Sir, and how came this tress,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long and raven? Mine are gold!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You should have made Art your mistress,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lived an anchorite and old!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, no doubt these dear good people<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On familiar terms with God,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could devise a parish steeple<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Built to heaven without a hod.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You and Solomon and Cæsar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were three fellows of a kind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a woman but to please her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You would leave your soul behind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78"></a>{78}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Those dead women with their beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How they must have loved you well,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dared to make desire a duty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the heretics in hell!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And your brother, that Catullus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What a plight he must be in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If those silver songs that lull us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were result of mortal sin!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If the artist were ungodly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prurient of mind and heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I must think they argue oddly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who make shrines before his art.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79"></a>{79}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not the meanest aspiration<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ever sprung from soul depraved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into art, but art’s elation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was the sanctity it craved.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, no doubt you had your troubles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Devils blue that blanched your hope.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I dare say your fancy’s bubbles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Breaking, had a taste of soap.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Did your lady-loves undo you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In some mediæval way?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, my Raphael, here’s to you!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is much the same to-day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80"></a>{80}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Did their tantalizing laughter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Make your wisdom overbold?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were you fire at first; and after,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did their kisses leave you cold?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Did some fine perfidious Nancy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the roses in her hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Play the marsh-fire to your fancy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over quagmires of despair?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My poor boy, were there more flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In your Florence and your Rome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wasting through the gorgeous hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than your two hands could bring home?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81"></a>{81}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Be content; you have your glory;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life was full and sleep is well.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What the end is of the story,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s no paragraph to tell.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82"></a>{82}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_P_V" id="TO_P_V"></a>TO P. V.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">So</span> they would raise your monument,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old vagabond of lovely earth?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another answer without words<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Humdrum’s, “What are poets worth?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not much we gave you when alive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whom now we lavishly deplore,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little bread, a little wine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little caporal—no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83"></a>{83}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here in our lodging of a day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You roistered till we were appalled;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Departing, in your room we found<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A string of golden verses scrawled.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The princely manor-house of art,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A vagrant artist entertains;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he gets him to the road,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behold, a princely gift remains.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Abashed, we set your name above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The purse-full patrons of our board;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remind newcomers with a nudge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Verlaine took once what we afford!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84"></a>{84}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The gardens of the Luxembourg,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spreading beneath the brilliant sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall be your haunt of leisure now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When all your wander years are done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There you shall stand, the very mien<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You wore in Paris streets of old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ponder what a thing is life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or watch the chestnut blooms unfold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There you will find, I dare surmise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another tolerance than ours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The loving-kindness of the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tender patience of the flowers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85"></a>{85}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And every year, when May returns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bring the golden age again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hope comes back with poetry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In your loved land across the Seine,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Some youth will come with foreign speech,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing his dream from over sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A lover of your flawless craft,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Apprenticed to your poverty.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He will be mute before you there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mark those lineaments which tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What stormy unrelenting fate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had one who served his art so well.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86"></a>{86}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there be yours, the livelong day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the mordant reach of pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The little gospel of the leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The <i>Nunc dimittis</i> of the rain!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87"></a>{87}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_NORSE_CHILDS_REQUIEM" id="A_NORSE_CHILDS_REQUIEM"></a>A NORSE CHILD’S REQUIEM</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Sleep</span> soundly, little Thorlak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where all thy peers have lain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A hero of no battle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A saint without a stain!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thy courage be upon thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unblemished by regret,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For that adventure whither<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy tiny march was set.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88"></a>{88}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sunshine be above thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With birds and winds and trees.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy way-fellows inherit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No better things than these.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And silence be about thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turned back from this our war<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To front alone the valley<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of night without a star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The soul of love and valor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indifferent to fame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be with thee, heart of vikings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the breath of blame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89"></a>{89}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thy moiety of manhood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unspent and fair, go down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, unabashed, encounter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy brothers of renown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So modest in thy freehold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tenure of the earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy needs, for all our meddling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are few and little worth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Content thee, not with pity;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be solaced, not with tears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when the whitethroats waken<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the revolving years,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90"></a>{90}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hereafter be that peerless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dirging cadence, child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy threnody unsullied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Melodious, and wild.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then winter be thy housing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy lullaby the rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou hero of no battle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou saint without a stain.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91"></a>{91}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="IN_THE_HEART_OF_THE_HILLS" id="IN_THE_HEART_OF_THE_HILLS"></a>IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In</span> the warm blue heart of the hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My beautiful, beautiful one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleeps where he laid him down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the journey was done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All the long summer day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ghosts of noon draw nigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the tremulous aspens hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The footing of winds go by.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92"></a>{92}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Down to the gates of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of the gates of the west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Journeys the whispering river<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the place of his rest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The road he loved to follow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When June came by his door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out through the dim blue haze<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leads, but allures no more.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The trailing shadows of clouds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Steal from the slopes and are gone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The myriad life in the grass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stirs, but he slumbers on;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93"></a>{93}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The inland wandering tern<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Skreel as they forage and fly;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His loons on the lonely reach<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Utter their querulous cry;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over the floating lilies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A dragon-fly tacks and steers;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far in the depth of the blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A martin settles and veers;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To every roadside thistle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A gold-brown butterfly clings;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he no more companions<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the dear vagrant things.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94"></a>{94}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The strong red journeying sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pale and wandering rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will roam on the hills forever<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And find him never again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then twilight falls with the touch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a hand that soothes and stills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a swamp-robin sings into light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lone white star of the hills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Alone in the dusk he sings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a burden of sorrow and wrong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is lifted up from the earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And carried away in his song.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95"></a>{95}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Alone in the dusk he sings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the joy of another day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is folded in peace and borne<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the drift of years away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But there in the heart of the hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My beautiful weary one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleeps where he laid him down;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the large sweet night is begun.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96"></a>{96}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="AN_AFTERWORD" id="AN_AFTERWORD"></a>AN AFTERWORD<br /><br /> -<small><i>To G. B. R.</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Brother</span>, the world above you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is very fair to-day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all things seem to love you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old accustomed way.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here in the heavenly weather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In June’s white arms you sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where once on the hills together<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your haunts you used to keep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97"></a>{97}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The idling sun that lazes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the open field<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gossips to the daisies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of secrets unrevealed;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wind that stirs the grasses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A moment, and then stills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their trouble as he passes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up to the darkling hills,—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And to the breezy clover<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has many things to say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of that unwearied rover<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who once went by this way;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98"></a>{98}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The miles of elm-treed meadows;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The clouds that voyage on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Streeling their noiseless shadows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From countries of the sun;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The tranquil river reaches<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the pale stars of dawn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The thrushes in their beeches<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For reverie withdrawn;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With all your forest fellows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In whom the blind heart calls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For whom the green leaf yellows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On whom the red leaf falls;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99"></a>{99}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The dumb and tiny creatures<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of flower and blade and sod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That dimly wear the features<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And attributes of God;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The airy migrant comers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On gauzy wings of fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those wanderers and roamers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of indefinite desire;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The rainbirds and all dwellers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In solitude and peace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those lingerers and foretellers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of infinite release;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a>{100}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yea, all the dear things living<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That rove or bask or swim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remembering and misgiving,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have felt the day grow dim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Even the glad things growing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blossom and fruit and stem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are poorer for your going<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because you were of them.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet since you loved to cherish<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their pleading beauty here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your heart shall not quite perish<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In all the golden year;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a>{101}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But God’s great dream above them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must be a tinge less pale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because you lived to love them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And make their joy prevail.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a>{102}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="SEVEN_WIND_SONGS" id="SEVEN_WIND_SONGS"></a>SEVEN WIND SONGS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Now these are the seven wind songs</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Andrew Straton’s death,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Blown through the reeds of the river,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>A sigh of the world’s last breath,</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Where the flickering red auroras</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Out on the dark sweet hills</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Follow all night through the forest</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The cry of the whip-poor-wills.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a>{103}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>For the meanings of life are many,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>But the purpose of love is one,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Journeying, tarrying, lonely</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>As the sea wind or the sun.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the Northern land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No more his dearest hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes back to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the Northern gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wandering waifs of doom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Feckless are we.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a>{104}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the Northern land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cannot understand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How these things be.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the low red morn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the world’s end,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the standing corn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whisper and bend.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then through the low red morn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the world’s end,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far out from sorrow’s bourne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down glory’s trend,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a>{105}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tell the last years forlorn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the world’s end,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of my one peerless born<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comrade and friend.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Wind</span> of the April stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whether God nears or fars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He lived and shone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the April night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No more my heart’s delight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bugles me on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a>{106}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the April rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lull the old world from pain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till pain be gone.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the summer noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gently the hand of June<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stays thee and stills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Far off, untouched by tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Raptures or ills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleeps he a thousand years<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out on the hills.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a>{107}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the summer noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is the land fair and boon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whither he wills?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the gulfs of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the pale streamers light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My world for me,—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Breath of the wintry Norns,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Frost-touch or sleep,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He whom my spirit mourns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep beyond deep<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a>{108}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To the last void and dim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where ages stream—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is there no room for him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In all this dream?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the outer waste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Threne of the outer world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leash of the stars unlaced,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Morning unfurled,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Somewhere at God’s great need,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know not how,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the old strength and speed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He is come now;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a>{109}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Therefore my soul is glad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the old pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tho’ this small life is sad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here in my side.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the driven snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On a long trail and slow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Farers are we.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the Northern gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall I one day resume<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His love for me?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a>{110}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wind of the driven snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then shall thy vagrant know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How these things be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>These are the seven wind songs</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Andrew Straton’s rest,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>From the hills of the Scarlet Hunter</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And the trail of the endless quest.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>The wells of the sunrise harken,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>They wait for a year and a day:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Only the calm sure thrushes</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Fluting the world away!</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a>{111}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>For the husk of life is sorrow;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>But the kernels of joy remain,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Teeming and blind and eternal</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>As the hill wind or the rain.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a>{112}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="ANDREW_STRATON" id="ANDREW_STRATON"></a>ANDREW STRATON</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Andrew Straton</span> was my friend,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With his Saxon eyes and hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his loyal viking spirit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like an islesman of the North<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With his earldom on the sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At his birth the mighty Mother<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made of him a fondling one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hushed from pain within her arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With her seal upon his lips;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a>{113}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And from that day he was numbered<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the sons of consolation,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Peace and cheer were in his hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her secret in his will.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now the night has Andrew Straton<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Housed from wind and storm forever<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a chamber of the gloom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where no window fronts the morning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lulled to rest at last from roving<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the music of the rain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And his sleep is in the far-off<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alien villages of the dusk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where there is no voice of welcome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the country of the strangers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save the murmur of the pines.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a>{114}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the fitful winds all day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the grass with restless footfalls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Haunt about his narrow door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muttering their vast unknown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Border balladry of time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the hoarse rote of the sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There he reassumes repose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He who never learned unrest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here amid our fury of toil,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Undisturbed though all about him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the cohorts of the night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sound the bugles of the spring;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his slumber is not broken<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When along the granite hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flare the torches of the dawn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a>{115}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">More to me than kith or kin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was the silence of his speech;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the quiet of his eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gathered from the lonely sweep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the hyacinthine hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Better to the failing spirit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than a river land in June:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to look for him at evening<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was more joy than many friends.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As the woodland brooks at noon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were his brown and gentle hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his face as the hill country<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touched with the red autumn sun<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a>{116}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Frank and patient and untroubled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save by the old trace of doom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the story of the world.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So the years went brightening by.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now a lyric wind and weather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Breaks the leaguer of the frost,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the shining rough month March<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crumbles into sun and rain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the glad and murmurous year<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wheels above his rest and wakens<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a dream for Andrew Straton.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now the uplands hold an echo<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the meadow lands at morn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the marshes hear the rivers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rouse their giant heart once more,—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a>{117}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hear the crunching floe start seaward<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From a thousand valley floors;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While far on amid the hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under stars in the clear night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The replying, the replying,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the ice-cold rivulets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Plashing down the solemn gorges<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In their arrowy blue speed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fills and frets the crisp blue twilight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With innumerable sound,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the whisper of the spring.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the melting fields are empty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something ails the bursting year.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a>{118}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, now helpless, O my rivers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are your lifted voices now!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where is all the sweet compassion<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once your murmur held for me?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cradled in your dells, I listened<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To your crooning, learned your language,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Born your brother and your kin.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I had the morn for revel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You made music at my door;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the days go darkling on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I cannot guess your words.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall young joy have troops of neighbors,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While this grief must house alone?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a>{119}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O my brothers of the hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who abide through stress and change,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the borders of our sorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With no part in human tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift me up your voice again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And put by this grievous thing!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, my rivers, Andrew Straton<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaves me here a vacant world!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I must hear the roar of cities<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the jargon of the schools,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With no word of that one spirit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who was steadfast as the sun<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a>{120}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And kept silence with the stars.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I must sit and hear the babble<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the worldling and the fool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prating know-alls and reformers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Busy to improve on man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With their chatter about God;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nowhere, nowhere the blue eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With their swift and grave regard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Falling on me with God’s look.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I have seen and known and loved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One who was too sure for sorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too serenely wise for haste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too compassionate for scorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fearless man and faultless comrade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One great heart whose beat was love.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a>{121}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In a thousand thousand hollows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the hills to-day there twinkle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Icy-blue handbreadths of April,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sinking snows decay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the everlasting sun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a thousand tiny creatures<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stretch their heart to fill the world.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now along the wondrous trail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Andrew Straton loved to follow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Day by day and year on year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The awaited sure return<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all sleeping forest things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is reheralded abroad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the places of their journey,—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a>{122}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wells the frost no longer hushes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ways no drift can bury now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wood and stream and road and hillside,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hail their coming as of old.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But my beautiful lost comrade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the golden heart, whose life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rang through April like a voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through some Norland saga, crying<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Skoal</i> to death, comes not again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time shall not revive that presence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More desired than all the flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Longer wished for than the birds.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">April comes, but April’s lover<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is departed and not here.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a>{123}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sojourning beyond the frost,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He delays; and now no more,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though the goldenwings are come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With their resonant tattoo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And along the barrier pines<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Morning reddens on the hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the thrushes wake before it,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No more to the summoning flutes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the forest Andrew Straton<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gets him forth afoot, light-hearted,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the unfrequented ways<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With companionable Spring.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Only the old dreams return.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a>{124}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I shape me here this fancy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Foolish me! of Andrew Straton;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How the lands of that new kindred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have detained him with allegiance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some far day I shall find him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There as here my only captain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Master of the utmost isles<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the ampler straits of sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out of the blue melting distance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the dreamy southward range<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Journey back the vagrant winds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sure and indolent as time;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the trembling wakened wood-flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift their gentle tiny faces<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a>{125}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the sunlight; and the rainbirds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the lonely cedar barrens<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Utter their far pleading cry.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up across the swales and burnt lands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the soft gray tinges purple,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mouldering into scarlet mist,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes the sound as of a marching,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The low murmur of the April<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the many-rivered hills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then there stirs the old vague rapture,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a wanderer come back,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still desiring, scathed but deathless,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From beyond the bourne of tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wayworn to his vacant cabin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To this foolish fearless heart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a>{126}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Soon the large mild stars of springtime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will resume the ancient twilight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And restore the heart of earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To unvexed eternal poise;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the great Will, calm and lonely,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can no mortal grief derange,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No lost memories perturb;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sluices of the morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will be opened, and the daybreak<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well with bird-calls and with brook-notes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till there be no more despair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the gold dream of the world.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a>{127}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_GRAVE-TREE" id="THE_GRAVE-TREE"></a>THE GRAVE-TREE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Let</span> me have a scarlet maple<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the grave-tree at my head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the quiet sun behind it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the years when I am dead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let me have it for a signal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the long winds stream and stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clear across the dim blue distance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a horn blown in a dream;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a>{128}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Scarlet when the April vanguard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bugles up the laggard Spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scarlet when the bannered Autumn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Marches by unwavering.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It will comfort me with honey<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the shining rifts and showers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweep across the purple valley<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bring back the forest flowers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It will be my leafy cabin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Large enough when June returns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I hear the golden thrushes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flute and hesitate by turns.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a>{129}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And in fall, some yellow morning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the stealthy frost has come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaf by leaf it will befriend me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As with comrades going home.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let me have the Silent Valley<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the hill that fronts the east,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So that I can watch the morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Redden and the stars released.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leave me in the Great Lone Country,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I shall not be afraid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the shy moose and the beaver<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There within my scarlet shade.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a>{130}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I would sleep, but not too soundly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sunning partridge drums,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the crickets hush before him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the Scarlet Hunter comes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That will be in warm September,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the stillness of the year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the river-blue is deepest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the other world is near.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the apples burn their reddest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the corn is in the sheaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall stir and waken lightly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At a footfall in the leaves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a>{131}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It will be the Scarlet Hunter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come to tell me time is done;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the idle hills forever<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There will stand the idle sun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There the wind will stay to whisper<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Many wonders to the reeds;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I shall not fear to follow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where my Scarlet Hunter leads.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I shall know him in the darkling<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Murmur of the river bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While his feet are on the mountains<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Treading out the smoldering stars.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a>{132}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I shall know him, in the sunshine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleeping in my scarlet tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long before he halts beside it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stooping down to summon me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then fear not, my friends, to leave me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the boding autumn vast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are many things to think of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the roving days are past.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leave me by the scarlet maple,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the journeying shadows fail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waiting till the Scarlet Hunter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pass upon the endless trail.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/back.jpg" width="308" height="449" alt="[Image -of the book's back cover unavailable.]" /> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of By the Aurelian Wall and Other Elegies, by -Bliss Carman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BY THE AURELIAN WALL *** - -***** This file should be named 53053-h.htm or 53053-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/0/5/53053/ - -Produced by Larry B. 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