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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The man with the hoe, and other poems, by

-Edwin Markham

-

-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and

-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions

-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms

-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at

-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you

-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before

-using this eBook.

-

-Title: The man with the hoe, and other poems

-

-Author: Edwin Markham

-

-Release Date: December 25, 2021 [eBook #67012]

-

-Language: English

-

-Character set encoding: UTF-8

-

-Produced by: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

-             http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images

-             available at The Internet Archive)

-

-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH THE HOE, AND OTHER

-POEMS ***

-

-

-

-

-                         The Man with the Hoe

-

-

-

-

-                                  TO

-

-                        EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN

-

-                     FIRST TO HAIL AND CAUTION ME

-

-

-

-

-                         The Man with the Hoe

-

-                            AND OTHER POEMS

-

-                                 _By_

-                             EDWIN MARKHAM

-

-                       [Illustration: colophon]

-

-                               NEW YORK

-                      DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE COMPANY

-                                 1899

-

-

-

-

-Prefatory Note

-

-Many of these poems have appeared in _Scribner’s_, _The Century_, _The

-Atlantic_, and the San Francisco _Examiner_, and my thanks are due them

-for permission to republish.

-

-                                                         EDWIN MARKHAM.

-

-OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA.

-

-

-

-

-The Contents

-

-

-The Man with the Hoe                                                  15

-

-A Look into the Gulf                                                  19

-

-Brotherhood                                                           21

-

-Song of the Followers of Pan                                          22

-

-Little Brothers of the Ground                                         23

-

-Wail of the Wandering Dead                                            25

-

-A Prayer                                                              28

-

-The Poet                                                              30

-

-The Whirlwind Road                                                    32

-

-The Desire of Nations                                                 33

-

-The Elf Child                                                         39

-

-The Goblin Laugh                                                      40

-

-Poetry                                                                41

-

-A Meeting                                                             42

-

-Infinite Depths                                                       43

-

-A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book                                     44

-

-The Paymaster                                                         46

-

-The Last Furrow                                                       47

-

-In the Storm                                                          49

-

-After Reading Shakspere                                               50

-

-The Hidden Valley                                                     52

-

-The Poets                                                             53

-

-Love’s Vigil                                                          54

-

-Two at a Fireside                                                     56

-

-The Butterfly                                                         57

-

-To William Watson                                                     58

-

-Keats A-Dying                                                         59

-

-Man                                                                   60

-

-The Cricket                                                           61

-

-In High Sierras                                                       62

-

-The Wharf of Dreams                                                   63

-

-To Louise Michel                                                      65

-

-Shepherd Boy and Nereid                                               66

-

-A Song at the Start                                                   68

-

-My Comrade                                                            70

-

-A Lyric of the Dawn                                                   71

-

-Joy of the Morning                                                    80

-

-Youth and Time                                                        81

-

-A Satyr Song                                                          83

-

-A Cry in the Night                                                    84

-

-Fays                                                                  85

-

-In Death Valley                                                       86

-

-At Dawn                                                               87

-

-“Follow Me”                                                           88

-

-In Poppy Fields                                                       89

-

-The Joy of the Hills                                                  90

-

-The Invisible Bride                                                   92

-

-The Valley                                                            94

-

-The Climb of Life                                                     95

-

-The Tragedy                                                           97

-

-Divine Vision                                                         98

-

-Midsummer Noon                                                        99

-

-One Life, One Law                                                    100

-

-Griefs                                                               101

-

-An Old Road                                                          102

-

-The New Comers                                                       103

-

-Music                                                                104

-

-Fay Song                                                             105

-

-The Old Earth                                                        106

-

-Divine Adventure                                                     107

-

-Song Made Flesh                                                      109

-

-To High-born Poets                                                   110

-

-The Toilers                                                          112

-

-On the Gulf of Night                                                 114

-

-A Harvest Song                                                       116

-

-Two Taverns                                                          118

-

-The Man under the Stone                                              119

-

-Song to the Divine Mother                                            121

-

-The Flying Mist                                                      127

-

-From the Hand of a Child                                             129

-

-At the Meeting of Seven Valleys                                      131

-

-The Rock-Breaker                                                     132

-

-These Songs Will Perish                                              133

-

-

-

-

-The Man with the Hoe

-

-

-

-

-The Man with the Hoe

-

-_Written after seeing Millet’s World-Famous Painting_

-

-    God made man in His own image,

-    in the image of God made He him.--_Genesis._

-

-

-    Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans

-    Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,

-    The emptiness of ages in his face,

-    And on his back the burden of the world.

-    Who made him dead to rapture and despair,

-    A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,

-    Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?

-    Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?

-    Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?

-    Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?

-

-    Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave

-    To have dominion over sea and land;

-    To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;

-    To feel the passion of Eternity?

-    Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns

-    And pillared the blue firmament with light?

-    Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf

-    There is no shape more terrible than this--

-    More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed--

-    More filled with signs and portents for the soul--

-    More fraught with menace to the universe.

-

-    What gulfs between him and the seraphim!

-    Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him

-    Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?

-    What the long reaches of the peaks of song,

-    The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?

-    Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;

-    Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;

-    Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,

-    Plundered, profaned and disinherited,

-    Cries protest to the Judges of the World,

-    A protest that is also prophecy.

-

-    O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,

-    Is this the handiwork you give to God,

-    This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?

-    How will you ever straighten up this shape;

-    Touch it again with immortality;

-    Give back the upward looking and the light;

-    Rebuild in it the music and the dream;

-    Make right the immemorial infamies,

-    Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?

-

-    O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,

-    How will the Future reckon with this Man?

-    How answer his brute question in that hour

-    When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world?

-    How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--

-    With those who shaped him to the thing he is--

-    When this dumb Terror shall reply to God,

-    After the silence of the centuries?

-

-

-

-

-A Look into the Gulf

-

-

-    I looked one night, and there Semiramis,

-    With all her mourning doves about her head,

-    Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell,

-    Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon

-    Snatches of song they sang to her of old

-    Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh.

-    And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh:

-    “The bugles! they are crying back again--

-    Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon,

-    And then went crying on through Nineveh.

-

-           *       *       *       *       *

-

-    Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill!

-    Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen,

-    A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell

-    Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread

-    Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers:

-    Assyria goes by upon the wind!”

-    And so she babbles by the ancient road,

-    While cities turned to dust upon the Earth

-    Rise through her whirling brain to live again--

-    Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead

-    Her weary lips beat on without a sound.

-

-

-

-

-Brotherhood

-

-

-      The crest and crowning of all good,

-      Life’s final star, is Brotherhood;

-      For it will bring again to Earth

-      Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;

-      Will send new light on every face,

-      A kingly power upon the race.

-      And till it come, we men are slaves,

-    And travel downward to the dust of graves.

-

-      Come, clear the way, then, clear the way:

-      Blind creeds and kings have had their day.

-      Break the dead branches from the path:

-      Our hope is in the aftermath--

-      Our hope is in heroic men,

-      Star-led to build the world again.

-      To this Event the ages ran:

-    Make way for Brotherhood--make way for Man.

-

-

-

-

-Song of the Followers of Pan

-

-

-    Our bursting bugles blow apart

-      The gates of cities as we go;

-    We bring the music of the heart

-      From secret wells in Lillimo’.

-

-    We break in music on the morns--

-      Sing of the flower to stirring roots;

-    Apollo’s cry is in the horns,

-      And Hermes’ whisper in the flutes.

-

-    We come with laughter to the Earth,

-      And lightly stir the heading wheat:

-    Our God is Poesy and Mirth,

-      And loves the noise of woodland feet.

-

-    When dancers beat the air to sound,

-      After the time of yellow sheaves,

-    He stops to watch the merry round,

-      His pleased face looking through the leaves.

-

-

-

-

-Little Brothers of the Ground

-

-

-    Little ants in leafy wood,

-    Bound by gentle Brotherhood,

-    While ye gaily gather spoil,

-    Men are ground by the wheel of toil;

-    While ye follow Blessed Fates,

-    Men are shriveled up with hates;

-    Or they lie with sheeted Lust,

-    And they eat the bitter dust.

-

-    Ye are fraters in your hall,

-    Gay and chainless, great and small;

-    All are toilers in the field,

-    All are sharers in the yield.

-    But we mortals plot and plan

-    How to grind the fellow-man;

-    Glad to find him in a pit,

-    If we get some gain of it.

-    So with us, the sons of Time,

-    Labor is a kind of crime,

-    For the toilers have the least,

-    While the idlers lord the feast.

-    Yes, our workers they are bound,

-    Pallid captives to the ground;

-    Jeered by traitors, fooled by knaves,

-    Till they stumble into graves.

-

-    How appears to tiny eyes

-    All this wisdom of the wise?

-

-

-

-

-Wail of the Wandering Dead

-

-

-    Death, too, is a chimera and betrays,

-      And yet they promised we should enter rest;

-    Death is as empty as the cup of days,

-      And bitter milk is in her wintry breast.

-

-    There is no worth in any world to come,

-      Nor any in the world we left behind;

-    And what remains of all our masterdom?--

-      Only a cry out of the crumbling mind.

-

-    We played all comers at the old Gray Inn,

-      But played the King of Players to our cost.

-    We played Him fair and had no chance to win:

-      The dice of God were loaded and we lost.

-

-    We wander, wander, and the nights come down

-      With starless darkness and the rush of rains;

-    We drift as phantoms by the songless town,

-      We drift as litter on the windy lanes.

-

-    Hope is the fading vision of the heart,

-      A mocking spirit throwing up wild hands.

-    She led us on with music at the start,

-      To leave us at dead fountains in the sands.

-

-    Now all our days are but a cry for sleep,

-      For we are weary of the petty strife.

-    Is there not somewhere in the endless deep

-      A place where we can lose the feel of life?

-

-    Where we can be as senseless as the dust

-      The night wind blows about a dried-up well?

-    Where there is no more labor, no more lust,

-      Nor any flesh to feel the Tooth of Hell?

-

-    Our feet are ever sliding, and we seem

-      As old and weary as the pyramids.

-    Come, God of Ages, and dispel the dream,

-      Fold the worn hands and close the sinking lids.

-

-    There is no new road for the dead to take:

-      Wild hearts are we among the worlds astray--

-    Wild hearts are we that cannot wholly break,

-      But linger on though life has gone away.

-

-    We are the sons of Misery and Eld:

-      Come, tender Death, with all your hushing wings,

-    And let our broken spirits be dispelled--

-      Let dead men sink into the dusk of things.

-

-

-

-

-A Prayer

-

-

-    Teach me, Father, how to go

-    Softly as the grasses grow;

-    Hush my soul to meet the shock

-    Of the wild world as a rock;

-    But my spirit, propt with power,

-    Make as simple as a flower.

-    Let the dry heart fill its cup,

-    Like a poppy looking up;

-    Let life lightly wear her crown,

-    Like a poppy looking down,

-    When its heart is filled with dew,

-    And its life begins anew.

-

-    Teach me, Father, how to be

-    Kind and patient as a tree.

-    Joyfully the crickets croon

-    Under shady oak at noon;

-    Beetle, on his mission bent,

-    Tarries in that cooling tent.

-    Let me, also, cheer a spot,

-    Hidden field or garden grot--

-    Place where passing souls can rest

-    On the way and be their best.

-

-

-

-

-The Poet

-

-

-    His home is in the heights: to him

-    Men wage a battle weird and dim,

-    Life is a mission stern as fate,

-    And Song a dread apostolate.

-    The toils of prophecy are his,

-    To hail the coming centuries--

-    To ease the steps and lift the load

-    Of souls that falter on the road.

-    The perilous music that he hears

-    Falls from the vortice of the spheres.

-

-    He presses on before the race,

-    And sings out of a silent place.

-    Like faint notes of a forest bird

-    On heights afar that voice is heard;

-    And the dim path he breaks to-day

-    Will some time be a trodden way.

-    But when the race comes toiling on

-    That voice of wonder will be gone--

-    Be heard on higher peaks afar,

-    Moved upward with the morning star.

-

-    O men of earth, that wandering voice

-    Still goes the upward way: rejoice!

-

-

-

-

-The Whirlwind Road

-

-

-    The Muses wrapped in mysteries of light

-    Came in a rush of music on the night;

-    And I was lifted wildly on quick wings,

-    And borne away into the deep of things.

-    The dead doors of my being broke apart;

-    A wind of rapture blew across the heart;

-    The inward song of worlds rang still and clear;

-    I felt the Mystery the Muses fear;

-    Yet they went swiftening on the ways untrod,

-    And hurled me breathless at the feet of God.

-

-    I felt faint touches of the Final Truth--

-    Moments of trembling love, moments of youth.

-    A vision swept away the human wall;

-    Slowly I saw the meaning of it all--

-    Meaning of life and time and death and birth,

-    But can not tell it to the men of Earth.

-    I only point the way, and they must go

-    The whirlwind road of song if they would know.

-

-

-

-

-The Desire of Nations

-

-     And the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall

-     be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The ever-lasting

-     Father, The Prince of Peace.--_Isaiah._

-

-

-    Earth will go back to her lost youth,

-    And life grow deep and wonderful as truth,

-    When the wise King out of the nearing heaven comes

-    To break the spell of long millenniums--

-    To build with song again

-    The broken hope of men--

-    To hush and heroize the world,

-    Beneath the flag of Brotherhood unfurled.

-    And He will come some day:

-    Already is His star upon the way!

-    He comes, O world, He comes!

-    But not with bugle-cry nor roll of doubling drums.

-

-    Nay, for He comes to loosen and unbind,

-    To build the lofty purpose in the mind,

-    To stir the heart’s deep chord....

-    No rude horns parleying, no shock of shields;

-    Nor as of old the glory of the Lord

-    To half-awakened shepherds in the fields,

-    Looking with foolish faces on the rush

-    Of the Great Splendor, when the pulsing hush

-    Came o’er the hills, came o’er the heavens afar

-    Where on their cliff of stars the watching seraphs are.

-

-    Nor as of old when first the Strong One trod,

-    The Power of sepulchers--our Risen God!

-    When on that deathless morning in the dark,

-    He quit the Garden of the Sepulcher,

-    Setting the oleander boughs astir,

-    And pausing at the gate with backward hark.--

-    Nay, nor as when the Hero-King of Heaven

-    Came with upbraiding to His faint eleven,

-    And found the world-way to His bright feet barred,

-    And hopeless then because men’s hearts were hard.

-

-    Nor will He come like carnal kings of old,

-    With pomp of pilfered gold;

-    Nor like the pharisees with pride of prayer;

-    Nor as the stumbling foolish stewards dream

-    In tedious argument and fruitless creed,

-    But in the passion of the heart-warm deed

-    Will come the Man Supreme.

-    Yea, for He comes to lift the Public Care--

-    To build on Earth the Vision hung in air.

-    This is the one fulfillment of His Law--

-    The one Fact in the mockeries that seem.

-    This is the Vision that the prophets saw--

-    The Comrade Kingdom builded in their dream.

-

-    No, not as in that elder day

-    Comes now the King upon the human way.

-    He comes with power: His white unfearing face

-    Shines through the Social Passion of the race.

-    He comes to frame the freedom of the Law,

-    To touch these men of Earth

-    With feeling of life’s oneness and its worth,

-    A feeling of its mystery and awe.

-

-    And when He comes into the world gone wrong,

-    He will rebuild her beauty with a song.

-    To every heart He will its own dream be:

-    One moon has many phantoms in the sea.

-    Out of the North the norns will cry to men:

-    “Balder the Beautiful has come again!”

-    The flutes of Greece will whisper from the dead:

-    “Apollo has unveiled his sunbright head!”

-    The stones of Thebes and Memphis will find voice:

-    “Osiris comes: O tribes of Time, rejoice!”

-    And social architects who build the State,

-    Serving the Dream at citadel and gate,

-    Will hail Him coming through the labor-hum.

-    And glad quick cries will go from man to man:

-    “Lo, He has come, our Christ the Artisan--

-    The King who loved the lilies, He has come!”

-

-    He will arrive, our Counselor and Chief.

-    And with bleak faces lighted up will come

-    The earth-worn mothers from their martyrdom,

-    To tell Him of their grief.

-    And glad girls caroling from field and town

-    Will go to meet Him with the labor-crown,

-    The new crown woven of the heading wheat.

-    And men will sit down at His sacred feet;

-    And He will say--the King--

-    “Come, let us live the poetry we sing!”

-    And these, His burning words, will break the ban--

-    Words that will grow to be,

-    On continent, on sea,

-    The rallying cry of man....

-

-    He comes to make the long injustice right--

-    Comes to push back the shadow of the night,

-    The gray Tradition full of flint and flaw--

-    Comes to wipe out the insults to the soul,

-    The insults of the Few against the Whole,

-    The insults they make righteous with a law.

-

-    Yea, He will bear the Safety of the State,

-    For in his still and rhythmic steps will be

-    The power and music of Alcyone,

-    Who holds the swift heavens in their starry fate.

-    Yea, He will lay on souls the power of peace,

-    And send on kingdoms torn the sense of Home--

-    More than the fire of Joy that burned on Greece,

-    More than the light of Law that rose on Rome.

-

-

-

-

-The Elf Child

-

-

-    I am a child of the reef and the blowing spray,

-      And all my heart goes wildly to the sea.

-      I am a changeling: can you follow me

-    Through hill and hollow on the wind’s dim way?

-    Yes, at the break of a tempestuous day

-      They bore me to the land through starless storm,

-      And laid me in the pillow sweetly warm

-    And broken by the first one’s little stay.

-

-    The elf kings found me on an ocean reef,

-    A lyric child of mystery and grief.

-      Then need I tell you why the trembling start--

-    Why in my song the sound of ocean dwells--

-    Why the quick gladness when the billow swells,

-      As though remembered voices called the heart?

-

-

-

-

-The Goblin Laugh

-

-

-    When I behold how men and women grind

-      And grovel for some place of pomp or power,

-      To shine and circle through a crumbling hour,

-    Forgetting the large mansions of the mind,

-    That are the rest and shelter of mankind;

-      And when I see them come with wearied brains

-      Pallid and powerless to enjoy their gains,

-    I seem to hear a goblin laugh unwind.

-

-    And then a memory sends upon its billow

-      Thoughts of a singer wise enough to play,

-      Who took life as a lightsome holiday:

-    Oft have I seen him make his arm a pillow,

-    Drink from his hand, and with a pipe of willow

-      Blow a wild music down a woodland way.

-

-

-

-

-Poetry

-

-

-    She comes as hush and beauty of the night,

-      And sees too deep for laughter;

-    Her touch is a vibration and a light

-      From worlds before and after.

-

-

-

-

-A Meeting

-

-

-    Softly she came one twilight from the dead,

-      And in the passionate silence of her look

-      Was more than man has writ in any book:

-    And now my thoughts are restless, and a dread

-    Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted;

-      For down the leafy ways her white feet took,

-      Lightly the newly broken roses shook--

-    Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head?

-

-    God! was it joy or sorrow in her face--

-      That quiet face? Had it grown old or young?

-      Was it sweet memory or sad that stung

-    Her voiceless soul to wander from its place?

-    What do the dead find in the Silence--grace?

-      Or endless grief for which there is no tongue?

-

-

-

-

-Infinite Depths

-

-

-    The little pool, in street or field apart,

-      Glasses deep heavens and the rushing storm;

-    And into silent depths of every heart,

-      The Eternal throws its awful shadow-form.

-

-

-

-

-A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book

-

-

-    Beside the sewing-table chained and bent,

-      They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud--

-      For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;

-    They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rent

-    Torn in life’s golden curtains. Glad Youth went,

-      And left them alone with Time; and now if bowed

-      With burdens they should sob and cry aloud,--

-    Wondering, the rich would look from their content.

-

-    And so this glimmering life at last recedes

-      In unknown, endless depths beyond recall;

-    And what’s the worth of all our ancient creeds,

-      If here at the end of ages this is all--

-      A white face floating in the whirling ball,

-    A dead face plashing in the river reeds?

-

-

-

-

-The Paymaster

-

-

-    There is a sacred Something on all ways--

-      Something that watches through the Universe;

-    One that remembers, reckons and repays,

-      Giving us love for love, and curse for curse.

-

-

-

-

-The Last Furrow

-

-

-    The Spirit of Earth, with still restoring hands,

-      ’Mid ruin moves, in glimmering chasm gropes,

-      And mosses mantle and the bright flower opes;

-    But Death the Ploughman wanders in all lands,

-    And to the last of Earth his furrow stands.

-      The grave is never hidden; fearful hopes

-    Follow the dead upon the fading slopes,

-      And there wild memories meet upon the sands.

-

-    When willows fling their banners to the plain,

-      When rumor of winds and sound of sudden showers

-    Disturb the dream of winter--all in vain

-      The grasses hurry to the graves, the flowers

-      Toss their wild torches on their windy towers;

-    Yet are the bleak graves lonely in the rain.

-

-

-

-

-In the Storm

-

-

-    I huddled close against the mighty cliff.

-    A sense of safety and of brotherhood

-    Broke on the heart: the shelter of a rock

-    Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world.

-

-

-

-

-After Reading Shakspere

-

-

-    Blithe Fancy lightly builds with airy hands

-      Or on the edges of the darkness peers,

-      Breathless and frightened at the Voice she hears:

-    Imagination (lo! the sky expands)

-    Travels the blue arch and Cimmerian sands,--

-      Homeless on earth, the pilgrim of the spheres,

-      The rush of light before the hurrying years,

-    The Voice that cries in unfamiliar lands.

-

-    Men weigh the moons that flood with eerie light

-      The dusky vales of Saturn--wood and stream;

-    But who shall follow on the awful sweep

-    Of Neptune through the dim and dreadful deep?

-    Onward he wanders in the unknown night,

-    And we are shadows moving in a dream.

-

-

-

-

-The Hidden Valley

-

-

-    I stray with Ariel and Caliban:

-      I know the hill of windy pines--I know

-      Where the jay’s nest swings in the wild gorge below:

-    Lightly I climb where fallen cedars span

-    Bright rivers--climb to a valley under ban,

-      Where west winds set a thousand bells ablow--

-      An eerie valley where in the morning glow

-    I hear the music of the pipes of Pan.

-

-    Mysterious horns blow by on the still air--

-      A satyr steps--a wood-god’s dewy notes

-      Come faintly from a vale of tossing oats.--

-    But ho! what white thing in the canyon crossed?

-    Gods! I shall come on Dian unaware,

-    Look on her fearful beauty and be lost.

-

-

-

-

-The Poets

-

-

-    Some cry of Sappho’s lyre, of Saadi’s flute,

-      Comes back across the waste of mortal things:

-    Men strive and die to reach the Dead Sea fruit--

-      Only the poets find immortal springs.

-

-

-

-

-Love’s Vigil

-

-

-    Love will outwatch the stars, and light the skies

-      When the last star falls, and the silent dark devours;

-      God’s warrior, he will watch the allotted hours,

-    And conquer with the look of his sad eyes:

-    He shakes the kingdom of darkness with his sighs,

-      His quiet sighs, while all the Infernal Powers

-      Tremble and pale upon their central towers,

-    Lest, haply, his bright universe arise.

-

-    All will be well if he have strength to wait,

-      Till his lost Pleiad, white and silver-shod,

-    Regains her place to make the perfect Seven;

-    Then all the worlds will know that Love is Fate--

-    That somehow he is greater even than Heaven--

-      That in the Cosmic Council he is God.

-

-

-

-

-Two at a Fireside

-

-

-    I built a chimney for a comrade old,

-      I did the service not for hope or hire--

-    And then I traveled on in winter’s cold,

-      Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.

-

-

-

-

-The Butterfly

-

-

-    O wingèd brother on the harebell, stay--

-      Was God’s hand very pitiful, the hand

-      That wrought thy beauty at a dream’s demand?

-

-    _Yea, knowing I love so well the flowery way,_

-    _He did not fling me to the world astray--_

-      _He did not drop me to the weary sand,_

-      _But bore me gently to a leafy land:_

-    _Tinting my wings, He gave me to the day._

-

-    Oh, chide no more my doubting, my despair!

-      I will go back now to the world of men.

-    Farewell, I leave thee to the world of air,

-      Yet thou hast girded up my heart again;

-    For He that framed the impenetrable plan,

-    And keeps His word with thee, will keep with man.

-

-

-

-

-To William Watson

-

-_After reading “The Purple East.”_

-

-

-    That hour you put the wreath of England by

-      To shake her guilty heart with song sublime,

-    The mighty Muse that watches from the sky

-      Laid on your head the larger wreath of Time.

-

-

-

-

-Keats A-Dying

-

-

-    Often of that Last Hour I lie and think;

-      I see thee, Keats, nearing the Deathway dim--

-      See Severn in his noiseless hurry, him

-    Who leaned above thee fading on the brink.

-

-           *       *       *       *       *

-

-    What is that wild light through the window chink?

-      Is it the burning feet of cherubim?

-      Or is it the white moon on western rim--

-    Saint Agnes’ moon beginning now to sink?

-

-    How did Death come--with sounds of water-stir?

-      With forms of beauty breaking at the lips?

-    With field pipes and the scent of blowing fir?

-      Or came it hurrying like a last eclipse,

-    Sweeping the world away like gossamer,

-      Blotting the moon, the mountains, and the ships?

-

-

-

-

-Man

-

-

-    Out of the deep and endless universe

-    There came a greater Mystery, a Shape,

-    A Something sad, inscrutable, august--

-    One to confront the worlds and question them.

-

-

-

-

-The Cricket

-

-

-    The twilight is the morning of his day,

-      While sleep drops seaward from the fading shore,

-      With purpling sail and dip of silver oar,

-    He cheers the shadowed time with roun-delay,

-    Until the dark east softens into gray.

-      Now as the noisy hours are coming--hark!

-      His song dies gently--it is growing dark--

-    His night, with its one star, is on its way!

-

-    Faintly the light breaks o’er the blowing oats--

-      Sleep, little brother, sleep: I am astir,

-      We worship Song, and servants are of her--

-    I in the bright hours, thou in shadow-time;

-    Lead thou the starlit night with merry notes,

-    And I will lead the clamoring day with rhyme.

-

-

-

-

-In High Sierras

-

-

-    There at a certain hour of the deep night,

-    A gray cliff with a demon face comes up,

-    Wrinkled and old, behind the peaks, and with

-    An anxious look peers at the Zodiac.

-

-

-

-

-The Wharf of Dreams

-

-

-    Strange wares are handled on the wharves of sleep:

-      Shadows of shadows pass, and many a light

-      Flashes a signal fire across the night;

-    Barges depart whose voiceless steersmen keep

-    Their way without a star upon the deep;

-      And from lost ships, homing with ghostly crews,

-      Come cries of incommunicable news,

-    While cargoes pile the piers, a moon-white heap--

-

-    Budgets of dream-dust, merchandise of song,

-    Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong,

-      Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand,

-    Fardels of heartache, burdens of old sins,

-    Luggage sent down from dim ancestral inns,

-      And bales of fantasy from No-Man’s Land.

-

-

-

-

-To Louise Michel

-

-

-    I cannot take your road, Louise Michel,

-      Priestess of Pity and of Vengeance--no:

-      Down that amorphous gulf I cannot go--

-    That gulf of Anarchy whose pit is Hell.

-    Yet, sister, though my first word is farewell,

-      Remember that I know your hidden woe;

-      Have felt the grief that rends you blow on blow;

-    Have knelt beside you in the murky cell.

-

-    You never followed hate (let this atone)

-    Nor knew the wrongs of others from your own:

-      Wild was the road, but Love has always led,

-    So I am silent where I cannot praise;

-    And here now at the parting of the ways,

-      I lay a still hand lightly on your head.

-

-

-

-

-Shepherd Boy and Nereid

-

-

-    Ah, once of old in some forgotten tongue,

-      Forgotten land, I was a shepherd boy,

-      And you a Nereid, a wingèd joy:

-    On through the dawn-bright peaks our bodies swung

-    And flower-soft lyrics by immortals sung

-      Fell from their unseen pinnacles in air:

-      God looked from Heaven that hour, for you were fair,

-    And I a poet, and the star was young.

-

-    You’d heard my woodland pipe and left the sea--

-      Your hair blown gold and all your body white--

-    Had left the ocean-girls to follow me.

-      We joined the hill-nymphs in their joyous flight,

-    And you laughed lightly to the sea, and sent

-    Quick glances flashing through me as I went.

-

-

-

-

-A Song at the Start

-

-

-    Oh, down the quick river our galley is going,

-      With a sound in the cordage, a beam on the sail:

-    The wind of the canyon our loose hair is blowing,

-      And the clouds of the morning are glad of the gale.

-

-    Around the swift prow little billows are breaking,

-      And flinging their foam in a glory of light;

-    Now the shade of a rock on the river is shaking,

-      And a wave leaps high up growing suddenly white.

-

-    The weight of the whole world is light as a feather,

-      And the peaks rise in silence and westerly flee:

-    Oh, the world and the poet are singing together,

-      And from the far cliff comes a sound of the sea.

-

-

-

-

-My Comrade

-

-

-    I never build a song by night or day,

-      Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,

-    But in some wondrous unexpected way,

-      Like light upon a road, my Love comes in.

-

-    And when I go at night upon the hill,

-      My heart is lifted on mysterious wings:

-    My Love is there to strengthen and to still,

-      For she can take away the dread of things.

-

-

-

-

-A Lyric of the Dawn

-

-

-          Alone I list

-      In the leafy tryst;

-    Silent the woodlands in their starry sleep--

-    Silent the phantom wood in waters deep:

-    No footfall of a wind along the pass

-    Startles a harebell--stirs a blade of grass.

-      Yonder the wandering weeds,

-      Enchanted in the light,

-    Stand in the gusty hollows, still and white;

-      Yonder are plumy reeds,

-    Dusking the border of the clear lagoon;

-      Far off the silver clifts

-    Hang in ethereal light below the moon;

-      Far off the ocean lifts,

-    Tossing its billows in the misty beam,

-    And shore-lines whiten, silent as a dream:

-    I hark for the bird, and all the hushed hills harken:

-    This is the valley: here the branches darken

-          The silver-lighted stream.

-

-          Hark--

-      That rapture in the leafy dark!

-    Who is it shouts upon the bough aswing,

-    Waking the upland and the valley under?

-    What carols, like the blazon of a king,

-      Fill all the dawn with wonder?

-          Oh, hush,

-      It is the thrush,

-      In the deep and woody glen!

-    Ah, thus the gladness of the gods was sung,

-      When the old Earth was young;

-      That rapture rang,

-    When the first morning on the mountains sprang:

-    And now he shouts, and the world is young again!

-

-          Carol, my king,

-      On your bough aswing

-    Thou art not of these evil days--

-    Thou art a voice of the world’s lost youth:

-    Oh, tell me what is duty--what is truth--

-    How to find God upon these hungry ways;

-      Tell of the golden prime,

-    When men beheld swift deities descend,

-    Before the race was left alone with Time,

-    Homesick on Earth, and homeless to the end,

-    When bird and beast could make a man their friend;

-      Before great Pan was dead,

-      Before the naiads fled;

-    When maidens white with dark eyes shy and bold,

-    With peals of laughter on the peaks of gold,

-      Startled the still dawn--

-    Shone in upon the mountains and were gone,

-    Their voices fading silverly in depths of forests old.

-

-    Sing of the wonders of their woodland ways,

-    Before the weird earth-hunger of these days,

-      When there was rippling mirth,

-      When justice was on Earth,

-    And light and grandeur of the Golden Age;

-      When never a heart was sad,

-      When all from king to herdsman had

-        A penny for a wage.

-    Ah, that old time has faded to a dream--

-    The moon’s fair face is broken in the stream;

-    Yet shout and carol on, O bird, and let

-    The exiled race not utterly forget;

-    Publish thy revelation on the lawns--

-    Sing ever in the dark ethereal dawns;

-      Sometime, in some sweet year,

-    These stormy souls, these men of Earth may hear.

-

-          But hark again,

-      From the secret glen,

-    That voice of rapture and ethereal youth

-      Now laden with despair.

-      Forbear, O bird, forbear:

-    Is life not terrible enough forsooth?

-      Cease, cease the mystic song--

-    No more, no more, the passion and the pain:

-    It wakes my life to fret against the chain;

-    It makes me think of all the agèd wrong--

-    Of joy and the end of joy and the end of all--

-    Of souls on Earth, and souls beyond recall.

-      Ah, ah, that voice again!

-    It makes me think of all these restless men,

-    Called into time--their progress and their goal;

-      And now, oh now, it sends into my soul

-    Dreams of a love that might have been for me--

-    That might have been--and now can never be.

-

-      Tell me no more of these--

-      Tell me of trancèd trees;

-    (The ghosts, the memories, in pity spare)

-    Show me the leafy home of the wild bees;

-    Show me the snowy summits dim in air;

-      Tell me of things afar

-    In valleys silent under moon and star:

-      Dim hollows hushed with night,

-    The lofty cedars misty in the light,

-      Wild clusters of the vine,

-      Wild odors of the pine,

-    The eagle’s eyrie lifted to the moon--

-    High places where on quiet afternoon

-    A shadow swiftens by, a thrilling scream

-    Startles the cliff, and dies across the woodland to a dream.

-

-          Ha, now

-      He springs from the bough,

-      It flickers--he is lost!

-      Out of the copse he sprang;

-    This is the floating briar where he tossed:

-    The leaves are yet atremble where he sang.

-      Here a long vista opens--look!

-      This is the way he took,

-    Through the pale poplars by the pond:

-    Hark! he is shouting in the field beyond.

-      Ho, there he goes

-      Through the alder close!

-    He leaves me here behind him in his flight,

-    And yet my heart goes with him out of sight!

-      What whispered spell

-    Of Faëry calls me on from dell to dell?

-    I hear the voice--it wanders in a dream--

-    Now in the grove, now on the hill, now on the fading stream.

-

-      Lead on--you know the way--

-          Lead on to Arcady,

-    O’er fields asleep; by river bank abrim;

-    Down leafy ways, dewy and cool and dim;

-    By dripping rocks, dark dwellings of the gnome,

-    Where hurrying waters dash their crests to foam.

-      I follow where you lead,

-    Down winding paths, across the flowery mead,

-    Down silent hollows where the woodbine blows,

-    Up water-courses scented by the rose.

-      I follow the wandering voice--

-      I follow, I rejoice,

-    I fade away into the Age of Gold--

-    We two together lost in forest old.--

-    O ferny and thymy paths, O fields of Aidenn,

-    Canyons and cliffs by mortal feet untrod!

-    O souls that weary and are heavy laden,

-          Here is the peace of God!

-

-    Lo! now the clamoring hours are on the way:

-    Faintly the pine tops redden in the ray;

-    From vale to vale fleet-footed rumors run,

-    With sudden apprehension of the sun;

-        A light wind stirs

-    The filmy tops of delicate dim firs,

-      And on the river border blows,

-    Breaking the shy bud softly to a rose.

-      Sing out, O throstle, sing:

-      I follow on, my king:

-    Lead me forever through the crimson dawn--

-      Till the world ends, lead me on!

-    Ho there! he shouts again--he sways--and now,

-      Upspringing from the bough,

-    Flashing a glint of dew upon the ground,

-      Without a sound

-    He drops into a valley and is gone!

-

-

-

-

-Joy of the Morning

-

-

-    I hear you, little bird,

-    Shouting aswing above the broken wall.

-    Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all.

-    Sing to my soul in the deep still wood:

-    ’Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word:

-    I’d tell it, too, if I could.

-

-    Oft when the white, still dawn

-    Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart,

-    I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart--

-    (The world’s mysterious stir)

-    But had no throat like yours, my bird,

-    Nor such a listener.

-

-

-

-

-Youth and Time

-

-

-    Once, I remember, the world was young;

-    The rills rejoiced with a silver tongue;

-    The field-lark sat in the wheat and sang;

-    The thrush’s shout in the woodland rang;

-    The cliffs and the perilous sands afar

-    Were softened to mist by the morning star;

-    For Youth was with me (I know it now!),

-    And a light shone out from his wreathèd brow.

-    He turned the fields to enchanted ground,

-    He touched the rains with a dreamy sound.

-

-    But alas, he vanished, and Time appeared,

-    The Spirit of Ages, old and weird.

-    He crushed and scattered my beamy wings;

-    He dragged me forth from the court of kings;

-    He gave me doubt and a bloom of beard,

-    This Spirit of Ages, old and weird.

-    The wonder went from the field of corn,

-    The glory died on the craggy horn;

-    And suddenly all was strange and gray,

-    And the rocks came out on the trodden way.

-

-    I hear no more the wild thrush sing:

-    He is silent now on the peach aswing.

-    Something is gone from the house of mirth--

-    Something is gone from the hills of Earth.

-    Time hurries me on with a wizard hand;

-    He turns the Earth to a homeless land;

-    He stays my life with a stingy breath,

-    And darkens its depths with foreknowledge of death;

-    Calls memories back on their path apace;

-    Sends desperate thoughts to the soul’s dim place.

-

-    Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin,

-    And pushes us on to the windowless inn.

-

-

-

-

-A Satyr Song

-

-

-    I know by the stir of the branches

-      The way she went;

-    And at times I can see where a stem

-      Of the grass is bent.

-    She’s the secret and light of my life,

-      She allures to elude;

-    But I follow the spell of her beauty

-      Whatever the mood.

-

-    I have followed all night in the hills,

-      And my breath is deep,

-    But she flies on before like a voice

-      In the vale of sleep.

-    I follow the print of her feet

-      In the wild river bed,

-    And lo, she calls gleefully down

-      From a cliff overhead.

-

-

-

-

-A Cry in the Night

-

-

-    Wail, wail, wail,

-      For the fleering world goes down:

-    Into the song of the poet pale

-      Mixes the laugh of the clown.

-

-    Grim, grim, grim,

-      Is the road we go to the dead;

-    Yet we must on, for a Something dim

-      Pushes the soul ahead.

-

-    Where, where, where,

-      Through the dust and shadow of things

-    Will the fleeing Fates with their wild manes bear

-      These tribes of slaves and kings?

-

-

-

-

-Fays

-

-

-    One secret night, I stood where ocean pours

-    Eternal waters on the yellow shores,

-    And saw the drift of fays that Prosper saw:

-    (Their feet had no more sound than blowing straw.)

-    And little hands held light in little hands

-    They chased a fleeing billow down the sands,

-    But turned in the nick o’ time, and mad with glee

-    Raced back again before the swelling sea.

-

-

-

-

-In Death Valley

-

-

-    There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,

-    Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill,

-    Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.

-    Around were heaps of ruins piled between

-    The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;

-    And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls

-    One pillar rose up dark against the moon.

-    There was a nameless Presence everywhere;

-    In the gray soil there was a purple stain,

-    And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood--

-    Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.

-    It was the mark of some ancestral grief--

-    Grief that began before the ancient Flood.

-

-

-

-

-At Dawn

-

-

-    Just then the branches lightly stirred....

-    See, out o’ the apple boughs a bird

-    Bursts music-mad into the blue abyss:

-    Rothschild would give his gold for this--

-    The wealth of nations, if he knew:

-    (And find a profit in the business, too.)

-

-

-

-

-“Follow Me”

-

-

-    O friend, we never choose the better part,

-    Until we set the Cross up in the heart.

-    I know I can not live until I die--

-    Till I am nailed upon it wild and high,

-    And sleep in the tomb for a full three days dead,

-    With angels at the feet and at the head.

-    But then in a great brightness I shall rise

-    To walk with stiller feet below the skies.

-

-

-

-

-In Poppy Fields

-

-

-    Here the poppy hosts assemble:

-    How they startle, how they tremble!

-    All their royal hoods unpinned

-    Blow out lightly in the wind.

-    Here is gold to labor for;

-    Here is pillage worth a war.

-

-    Men that in the cities grind,

-    Come! before the heart is blind.

-

-

-

-

-The Joy of the Hills

-

-

-    I ride on the mountain tops, I ride;

-    I have found my life and am satisfied.

-    Onward I ride in the blowing oats,

-    Checking the field-lark’s rippling notes--

-      Lightly I sweep

-      From steep to steep:

-    Over my head through the branches high

-    Come glimpses of a rushing sky;

-    The tall oats brush my horse’s flanks;

-    Wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks;

-    A bee booms out of the scented grass;

-    A jay laughs with me as I pass.

-

-    I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget

-      Life’s hoard of regret--

-      All the terror and pain

-      Of the chafing chain.

-

-      Grind on, O cities, grind:

-      I leave you a blur behind.

-    I am lifted elate--the skies expand:

-    Here the world’s heaped gold is a pile of sand.

-    Let them weary and work in their narrow walls:

-    I ride with the voices of waterfalls!

-

-    I swing on as one in a dream--I swing

-    Down the airy hollows, I shout, I sing!

-    The world is gone like an empty word:

-    My body’s a bough in the wind, my heart a bird!

-

-

-

-

-The Invisible Bride

-

-

-    The low-voiced girls that go

-      In gardens of the Lord,

-    Like flowers of the field they grow

-      In sisterly accord.

-

-    Their whispering feet are white

-      Along the leafy ways;

-    They go in whirls of light

-      Too beautiful for praise.

-

-    And in their band forsooth

-      Is one to set me free--

-    The one that touched my youth--

-      The one God gave to me.

-

-    She kindles the desire

-      Whereby the gods survive--

-    The white ideal fire

-      That keeps my soul alive.

-

-    Now at the wondrous hour,

-      She leaves her star supreme,

-    And comes in the night’s still power,

-      To touch me with a dream.

-

-    Sibyl of mystery

-      On roads beyond our ken,

-    Softly she comes to me,

-      And goes to God again.

-

-

-

-

-The Valley

-

-

-    I know a valley in the summer hills,

-    Haunted by little winds and daffodils;

-    Faint footfalls and soft shadows pass at noon;

-    Noiseless, at night, the clouds assemble there;

-    And ghostly summits hang below the moon--

-    Dim visions lightly swung in silent air.

-

-

-

-

-The Climb of Life

-

-

-    There’s a feel of all things flowing,

-      And no power of Earth can bind them;

-    There’s a sense of all things growing,

-    And through all their forms a-glowing

-      Of the shaping souls behind them.

-

-    And the break of beauty heightens

-      With the swiftening of the motion,

-    And the soul behind it lightens,

-    As a gleam of splendor whitens

-      From a running wave of ocean.

-

-    See the still hand of the Shaper,

-      Moving in the dusk of being:

-    Burns at first a misty taper,

-    Like the moon in veil of vapor,

-      When the rack of night is fleeing.

-

-    In the stone a dream is sleeping,

-      Just a tinge of life, a tremor;

-    In the tree a soul is creeping--

-    Last, a rush of angels sweeping

-      With the skies beyond the dreamer.

-

-    So the Lord of Life is flinging

-      Out a splendor that conceals Him:

-    And the God is softly singing

-    And on secret ways is winging,

-      Till the rush of song reveals Him.

-

-

-

-

-The Tragedy

-

-

-    Oh, the fret of the brain,

-      And the wounds and the worry;

-    Oh, the thought of love and the thought of death--

-      And the soul in its silent hurry.

-

-    But the stars break above,

-      And the fields flower under;

-    And the tragical life of man goes on,

-      Surrounded by beauty and wonder.

-

-

-

-

-Divine Vision

-

-

-    Can it be the Master knows

-    How the Cosmic Blossom blows?

-

-    Yes, at times the Lord of Light

-    Breaks forth wonderful and white,

-    And He strikes a corded lyre

-    In a rush of whirlwind fire;

-    And He sees before Him pass

-    Souls and planets in a glass;

-    And within the music hears

-    All the motions of all spheres,

-    All the whispers of all feet,

-    Cries of triumph and retreat,

-    Songs of systems and of souls,

-    Circling to their mighty goals.

-

-    So the Lord of Light beholds

-    How the Cosmic Flower unfolds.

-

-

-

-

-Midsummer Noon

-

-

-    Yonder a workman, under the cool bridge,

-    Resting at mid-day, watches the glancing midge,

-    While twinkling lights and murmurs of the stream

-    Pass into the dim fabric of his dream.

-    The misty hollows and the drowsy ridge--

-    How like an airy fantasy they seem.

-

-

-

-

-One Life, One Law

-

-

-    What do we know--what need we know

-    Of the great world to which we go?

-    We peer into the tomb, and hark:

-    Its walls are dim, its doors are dark.

-

-    Be still, O mourning heart, nor seek

-    To make the tongueless silence speak:

-    Be still, be strong, nor wish to find

-    Their way who leave the world behind--

-    Voices and forms forever gone

-    Into the darkness of the dawn.

-

-    What is their wisdom, clear and deep?--

-    That as men sow they surely reap,--

-    That every thought, that every deed,

-    Is sown into the soul for seed.

-    They have no word we do not know,--

-    Nor yet the cherubim aglow

-    With God: we know that virtue saves,--

-    They know no more beyond the graves.

-

-

-

-

-Griefs

-

-

-    The rains of winter scourged the weald,

-    For days they darkened on the field:

-    Now, where the wings of winter beat,

-    The poppies ripple in the wheat.

-

-    And pitiless griefs came thick and fast--

-    Life’s bough was naked in the blast--

-    Till silently amid the gloom

-    They blew the wintry heart to bloom.

-

-

-

-

-An Old Road

-

-

-    A host of poppies, a flight of swallows;

-    A flurry of rain, and a wind that follows

-    Shepherds the leaves in the sheltered hollows,

-      For the forest is shaken and thinned.

-

-    Over my head are the firs for rafter;

-    The crows blow south, and my heart goes after;

-    I kiss my hands to the world with laughter--

-      Is it Aidenn or mystical Ind?

-

-    Oh, the whirl of the fields in the windy weather!

-    How the barley breaks and blows together!

-    Oh, glad is the free bird afloat on the heather--

-      Oh, the whole world is glad of the wind!

-

-

-

-

-The New-Comers

-

-

-    Two swallows--each preening a long glossy feather;

-    Now they gossip and dart through the silvery weather;

-    Oh, praise to the Highest--two lovers together--

-      Free, free in the fathomless world of air.

-

-    No fate to oppose and no fortune to sunder;

-    Blue sky overhead--green sky breaking under;

-    And their home on the cliff in the midst of the wonder,

-      Hung high beyond fear on the gray granite stair.

-

-

-

-

-Music

-

-

-    It is the last appeal to man--

-    Voice crying since the world began;

-    The cry of the Ideal--cry

-    To aspirations that would die.

-    The last appeal! in it is heard

-    The pathos of the final word.

-

-    Voice tender and heroical--

-    Imperious voice that knoweth well

-    To wreck the reasonings of years,

-    To strengthen rebel hearts with tears.

-

-

-

-

-Fay Song

-

-

-    My life is a dream--a dream

-    In the moon’s cool beam;

-    Some day I shall wake and desire

-    A touch of the infinite fire.

-    But now ’tis enough that I be

-    In the light of the sea;

-    Enough that I climb with the cloud

-    When the winds of the morning are loud;

-    Enough that I fade with the stars

-    When the door of the East unbars.

-

-

-

-

-The Old Earth

-

-

-    How will it be if there we find no traces--

-    There in the Golden Heaven--if we find

-    No memories of the old Earth left behind,

-    No visions of familiar forms and faces--

-    Reminders of old voices and old places?

-    Yet could we bear it if it should remind?

-

-

-

-

-Divine Adventure

-

-

-    At times a youth (so whispered legend tells),

-    Like Hylas, stoops to drink

-    By forest-hidden brink,

-    And fair hands draw him down to darkened wells;

-    Fair hands that hold him fast

-    With laughter at the last

-    Have power to draw him lightly down to be

-    In elfin chambers under the gray sea.

-

-    And I, O men of Earth, I too,

-    When dawn was at the dew,

-    Was drawn as Hylas downward and beheld

-    Spirits of youth and eld--

-    Was swung down endless caverns to the deep,

-    Saw fervid jewels sparkle in their sleep,

-    Saw glad gnomes working in the dusty light,

-    Saw great rocks crouching in the primal night.

-    I was drawn down, and after many days

-    Returned with stiller feet to walk the upper ways.

-

-

-

-

-Song Made Flesh

-

-

-    I have no glory in these songs of mine:

-      If one of them can make a brother strong,

-    It came down from the peaks of the divine--

-      I heard it in the Heaven of Lyric Song.

-

-    The one who builds the poem into fact,

-      He is the rightful owner of it all:

-    The pale words are with God’s own power packed

-      When brave souls answer to their buglecall.

-

-    And so I ask no man to praise my song,

-      But I would have him build it in his soul;

-    For that great praise would make me glad and strong,

-      And build the poem to a perfect whole.

-

-

-

-

-To High-born Poets

-

-

-    There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed--

-    A cry from the toilers of Babylon for their rest.--

-    O Poet, thou art holden with a vow:

-    The light of higher worlds is on thy brow,

-    And Freedom’s star is soaring in thy breast.

-    Go, be a dauntless voice, a bugle-cry

-    In darkening battle when the winds are high--

-    A clear sane cry wherein the God is heard

-    To speak to men the one redeeming word.

-      No peace for thee, no peace,

-      Till blind oppression cease;

-      The stones cry from the walls,

-      Till the gray injustice falls--

-    Till strong men come to build in freedom-fate

-    The pillars of the new Fraternal State.

-

-      Let trifling pipe be mute,

-      Fling by the languid lute:

-    Take down the trumpet and confront the Hour,

-    And speak to toil-worn nations from a tower--

-    Take down the horn wherein the thunders sleep,

-    Blow battles into men--call down the fire--

-    The daring, the long purpose, the desire;

-    Descend with faith into the Human Deep,

-    And ringing to the troops of right a cheer,

-    Make known the Truth of Man in holy fear;

-    Send forth thy spirit in a storm of song,

-    A tempest flinging fire upon the wrong.

-

-

-

-

-The Toilers

-

-

-    Their blind feet drift in the darkness, and no one is leading;

-    Their toil is the pasture, where hyens and harpies are feeding;

-    In all lands and always, the wronged, the homeless, the humbled

-    Till the cliff-like pride of the spoiler is shaken and crumbled,

-    Till the Pillars of Hell are uprooted and left to their ruin,

-    And a rose-garden gladdens the places no rose ever blew in,

-    Where now men huddle together and whisper and harken,

-    Or hold their bleak hands over embers that die out and darken.

-    The anarchies gather and thunder: few, few are the fraters,

-    And loud is the revel at night in the camp of the traitors.

-    Say, Shelley, where are you--where are you? our hearts are a-breaking!

-    The fight in the terrible darkness--the shame--the forsaking!

-

-    The leaves shower down and are sport for the winds that come after;

-    And so are the Toilers in all lands the jest and the laughter

-    Of nobles--the Toilers scourged on in the furrow as cattle,

-    Or flung as a meat to the cannons that hunger in battle.

-

-

-

-

-On the Gulf of Night

-

-

-    The world’s sad petrels dwell for evermore

-    On windy headland or on ocean floor,

-    Or pierce the violent skies with perilous flights

-    That fret men in their palaces o’ nights,

-    Breaking enchanted slumber’s easeful boat,

-    With shudderings of their wild and dolorous note;

-    They blow about the black and barren skies,

-    They fill the night with ineffectual cries.

-

-    There is for them not anything before,

-    But sound of sea and sight of soundless shore,

-    Save when the darkness glimmers with a ray,

-    And Hope sings softly, _Soon it will be day_.

-    Then for a golden space the shades are thinned,

-    And dawn seems blowing seaward on the wind.

-    But soon the dark comes wilder than before,

-    And swift around them breaks a sullen roar;

-    The tempest calls to windward and to lea,

-    And--they are seabirds on the homeless sea.

-

-

-

-

-A Harvest Song

-

-

-    The gray bulk of the granaries uploom against the sky;

-    The harvest moon has dwindled--they have housed the corn and rye;

-    And now the idle reapers lounge against the bolted doors:

-    Without are hungry harvesters, within enchanted stores.

-

-    Lo, they had bread while they were out a-toiling in the sun:

-    Now they are strolling beggars, for the harvest work is done.

-    They are the gods of husbandry: they gather in the sheaves,

-    But when the autumn strips the wood, they’re drifting with the leaves.

-    They plow and sow and gather in the glory of the corn;

-    They know the noon, they know the pitiless rains before the morn;

-    They know the sweep of furrowed fields that darken in the gloom--

-    A little while their hope on earth, then evermore the tomb.

-

-

-

-

-Two Taverns

-

-

-    I remember how I lay

-    On a bank a summer day,

-    Peering into weed and flower:

-    Watched a poppy all one hour;

-    Watched it till the air grew chill

-    In the darkness of the hill;

-    Till I saw a wild bee dart

-    Out of the cold to the poppy’s heart;

-    Saw the petals gently spin,

-    And shut the little lodger in.

-    Then I took the quiet road

-    To my own secure abode.

-    All night long his tavern hung;

-    Now it rested, now it swung;

-    I asleep in steadfast tower,

-    He asleep in stirring flower;

-    In our hearts the same delight

-    In the hushes of the night;

-    Over us both the same dear care

-    As we slumbered unaware.

-

-

-

-

-The Man under the Stone

-

-

-    When I see a workingman with mouths to feed,

-    Up, day after day, in the dark before the dawn,

-    And coming home, night after night, through the dusk,

-    Swinging forward like some fierce silent animal,

-    I see a man doomed to roll a huge stone up an endless steep.

-    He strains it onward inch by stubborn inch,

-    Crouched always in the shadow of the rock....

-    See where he crouches, twisted, cramped, misshapen!

-    He lifts for their life;

-    The veins knot and darken--

-    Blood surges into his face....

-    Now he loses--now he wins--

-    Now he loses--loses--(God of my soul!)

-    He digs his feet into the earth--

-    There’s a moment of terrified effort.

-    Will the huge stone break his hold,

-    And crush him as it plunges to the gulf?

-

-    The silent struggle goes on and on,

-    Like two contending in a dream.

-

-

-

-

-Song to the Divine Mother[A]

-

-

-    Come, Mighty Mother, from the bright abode,

-      Lift the low heavens and hush the Earth again;

-    Come when the moon throws down a shining road

-      Across the sea--come back to weary men.

-

-    But if the moon throws out across the sea

-      Too dim a light, too wavering a way,

-    Come when the sunset paves a path for Thee

-      Across the waters fading into gray.

-

-    Dead nations saw Thee dimly in release--

-      In Aphrodite rising from the foam:

-    Some glimmer of Thy beauty was on Greece,

-      Some trembling of Thy passion was on Rome.

-

-    For ages Thou hast been the dim desire

-      That warmed the bridal chamber of the mind:

-    Come burning through the heavens with Holy Fire,

-      And spread divine contagion on mankind.

-

-    Come down, O Mother, to the helpless land,

-      That we may frame our Freedom into Fate:

-    Come down, and on the throne of nations stand,

-      That we may build Thy beauty in the State.

-

-    Come shining in upon our daily road,

-      Uphold the hero heart and light the mind;

-    Quicken the strong to lift the People’s load,

-      And bring back buried justice to mankind.

-

-    Shine through the frame of nations for a light,

-      Move through the hearts of heroes in a song:

-    It is Thy beauty, wilder than the night,

-      That hushed the heavens and keeps the high gods strong.

-

-    I know, Supernal Woman, Thou dost seek

-      No song of man, no worship and no praise;

-    But thou wouldst have dead lips begin to speak,

-      And dead feet rise to walk immortal ways.

-

-    Yet listen, Mighty Mother, to the child

-      Who has no voice but song to tell his grief--

-    Nothing but tears and broken numbers wild,

-      Nothing but woodland music for relief.

-

-    His song is but a little broken cry,

-      Less than the whisper of a river reed;

-    Yet thou canst hear in it the souls that die--

-      Feel in its pain the vastness of our need.

-

-    I would not break the mouth of song to tell

-      My life’s long passion and my heart’s long grief,

-    But Thou canst hear the ocean in one shell,

-      And see the whole world’s winter in one leaf.

-

-    So here I stand at the world’s weary feet,

-      And cry the sorrow of the world’s dumb years:

-    I cry because I hear the world’s heart beat

-      Weary of hope, weary of life and tears.

-

-    For ages Thou hast breathèd upon mankind

-      A faint wild tenderness, a vague desire;

-    For ages stilled the whirlwinds of the mind,

-      And sent on lyric seers the rush of fire.

-

-    And yet the world is held by wintry chain,

-      Dead to Thy social passion, Holy One:

-    The dried-up furrows need the vital rain,

-      The cold seeds the quick spirit of the sun.

-

-    Some day our homeless cries will draw Thee down,

-      And the old brightness on the ways of men

-    Will send a hush upon the jangling town,

-      And broken hearts will learn to love again.

-

-    Come, Bride of God, to fill the vacant Throne,

-      Touch the dim Earth again with sacred feet;

-    Come build the Holy City of white stone,

-      And let the whole world’s gladness be complete.

-

-    Come with the face that hushed the heavens of old--

-      Come with Thy maidens in a mist of light;

-    Haste for the night falls and the shadows fold,

-      And voices cry and wander on the height.

-

-

-

-

-The Flying Mist

-

-

-    I watch afar the moving Mystery,

-    The wool-shod, formless terror of the sea--

-    The Mystery whose lightest touch can change

-    The world God made to phantasy, death-strange.

-    Under its spell all things grow old and gray

-    As they will be beyond the Judgment Day.

-    All voices, at the lifting of some hand,

-    Seem calling to us from another land.

-    Is it the still Power of the Sepulcher

-    That makes all things the wraiths of things that were?

-

-    It touches, one by one, the wayside posts,

-    And they are gone, a line of hurrying ghosts.

-    It creeps upon the towns with stealthy feet,

-    And men are phantoms on a phantom street.

-    It strikes the towers and they are shafts of air,

-    Above the spectres passing in the square.

-    The city turns to ashes, spire by spire;

-    The mountains perish with their peaks afire.

-    The fading city and the falling sky

-    Are swallowed in one doom without a cry.

-

-    It tracks the traveler fleeing with the gale,

-    Fleeing toward home and friends without avail;

-    It springs upon him and he is a ghost,

-    A blurred shape moving on a soundless coast.

-    God! it pursues my love along the stream,

-    Swirls round her and she is forever dream.

-    What Hate has touched the universe with eld,

-    And left me only in a world dispelled?

-

-

-

-

-From the Hand of a Child

-

-

-    One day a child ran after me in the street,

-    To give me a half-blown rose, a fire-white rose,

-    Its stem all warm yet from the tight-shut hand.

-    The little gift seemed somehow more to me

-    Than all men strive for in the turbid towns,

-    Than all they hoard up through a long wild life.

-    And as I breathed the heart-breath of the flower,

-    The Youth of Earth broke on me like a dawn,

-    And I was with the wide-eyed wondering things,

-    Back in the far forgotten buried time.

-    A lost world came back softly with the rose:

-    I saw a glad host follow with lusty cries

-    Diana flying with her maidens white,

-    Down the long reaches of the laureled hills.

-    Above the sea I saw a wreath of girls,

-    Fading to air in far-off poppy fields.

-    I saw a blithe youth take the open road:

-    His thoughts ran on before him merrily;

-    Sometimes he dipped his feet in stirring brooks;

-    At night he slept upon a bed of boughs.

-

-    This in my soul. Then suddenly a shape,

-    A spectre wearing yet the mask of dust

-    Jostled against me as he passed, and lo!

-    The jarring city and the drift of feet

-    Surged back upon me like the grieving sea.

-

-

-

-

-At the Meeting of Seven Valleys

-

-

-    At the meeting of seven valleys in the west,

-    I came upon a host of silent souls,

-    Seated beside still waters on the grass.

-    It was a place of memories and tears--

-    Terrible tears. I rested in a wood,

-    And there the bird that mourns for Itys sang--

-    Itys that touched the tears of all the world.

-    But climbing onward toward the purple peaks,

-    I passed, on silent feet, white multitudes,

-    Beyond the reach of peering memories,

-    Lying asleep upon the scented banks,

-    Their bodies burning with celestial fire.

-    A mighty awe came on me at the thought--

-    The strangeness of the beatific sleep,

-    The vision of God, the mystic bread of rest.

-

-

-

-

-The Rock-Breaker

-

-

-    Pausing he leans upon his sledge, and looks--

-      A labor-blasted toiler;

-    So have I seen, on Shasta’s top, a pine

-      Stand silent on a cliff,

-    Stript of its glory of green leaves and boughs,

-      Its great trunk split by fire,

-    Its gray bark blackened by the thunder-smoke,

-      Its life a sacrifice

-    To some blind purpose of the destinies.

-

-

-

-

-These Songs Will Perish

-

-

-    These songs will perish like the shapes of air--

-    The singer and the songs die out forever;

-    But star-eyed Truth (greater than song or singer)

-    Sweeps hurrying on: far off she sees a gleam

-    Upon a peak. She cried to man of old

-    To build the enduring, glad Fraternal State--

-    Cries yet through all the ruins of the world--

-    Through Karnack, through the stones of Babylon--

-    Cries for a moment through these fading songs.

-

-    On wingèd feet, a form of fadeless youth,

-    She goes to meet the coming centuries,

-    And, hurrying, snatches up some human reed,

-    Blows through it once her terror-bearing note,

-    And breaks and throws away. It is enough

-    If we can be a bugle at her lips,

-    To scatter her contagion on mankind.

-

-

-FOOTNOTE:

-

-[A] This song should be read in the light of the deep and comforting

-truth that the Divine Feminine as well as the Divine Masculine

-Principle is in God--that he is Father-Mother, Two-in-One. It follows

-from this truth that the dignity of womanhood is grounded in the Divine

-Nature itself. The fact that the Deity is Man-Woman was known to the

-ancient poets and sages, and was grafted into the nobler religions of

-mankind. The idea is implied in the doctrine of the Divine Father,

-taught by our Lord in the Gospels; and it is declared in the first

-chapter of Genesis in the words: “God said, ‘Let Us make men in Our

-image, after Our likeness.’ ... So God created man in His own image, in

-the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.”

-

-

-

-

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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67012 ***
+
+                         The Man with the Hoe
+
+
+
+
+                                  TO
+
+                        EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN
+
+                     FIRST TO HAIL AND CAUTION ME
+
+
+
+
+                         The Man with the Hoe
+
+                            AND OTHER POEMS
+
+                                 _By_
+                             EDWIN MARKHAM
+
+                       [Illustration: colophon]
+
+                               NEW YORK
+                      DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE COMPANY
+                                 1899
+
+
+
+
+Prefatory Note
+
+Many of these poems have appeared in _Scribner’s_, _The Century_, _The
+Atlantic_, and the San Francisco _Examiner_, and my thanks are due them
+for permission to republish.
+
+                                                         EDWIN MARKHAM.
+
+OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA.
+
+
+
+
+The Contents
+
+
+The Man with the Hoe                                                  15
+
+A Look into the Gulf                                                  19
+
+Brotherhood                                                           21
+
+Song of the Followers of Pan                                          22
+
+Little Brothers of the Ground                                         23
+
+Wail of the Wandering Dead                                            25
+
+A Prayer                                                              28
+
+The Poet                                                              30
+
+The Whirlwind Road                                                    32
+
+The Desire of Nations                                                 33
+
+The Elf Child                                                         39
+
+The Goblin Laugh                                                      40
+
+Poetry                                                                41
+
+A Meeting                                                             42
+
+Infinite Depths                                                       43
+
+A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book                                     44
+
+The Paymaster                                                         46
+
+The Last Furrow                                                       47
+
+In the Storm                                                          49
+
+After Reading Shakspere                                               50
+
+The Hidden Valley                                                     52
+
+The Poets                                                             53
+
+Love’s Vigil                                                          54
+
+Two at a Fireside                                                     56
+
+The Butterfly                                                         57
+
+To William Watson                                                     58
+
+Keats A-Dying                                                         59
+
+Man                                                                   60
+
+The Cricket                                                           61
+
+In High Sierras                                                       62
+
+The Wharf of Dreams                                                   63
+
+To Louise Michel                                                      65
+
+Shepherd Boy and Nereid                                               66
+
+A Song at the Start                                                   68
+
+My Comrade                                                            70
+
+A Lyric of the Dawn                                                   71
+
+Joy of the Morning                                                    80
+
+Youth and Time                                                        81
+
+A Satyr Song                                                          83
+
+A Cry in the Night                                                    84
+
+Fays                                                                  85
+
+In Death Valley                                                       86
+
+At Dawn                                                               87
+
+“Follow Me”                                                           88
+
+In Poppy Fields                                                       89
+
+The Joy of the Hills                                                  90
+
+The Invisible Bride                                                   92
+
+The Valley                                                            94
+
+The Climb of Life                                                     95
+
+The Tragedy                                                           97
+
+Divine Vision                                                         98
+
+Midsummer Noon                                                        99
+
+One Life, One Law                                                    100
+
+Griefs                                                               101
+
+An Old Road                                                          102
+
+The New Comers                                                       103
+
+Music                                                                104
+
+Fay Song                                                             105
+
+The Old Earth                                                        106
+
+Divine Adventure                                                     107
+
+Song Made Flesh                                                      109
+
+To High-born Poets                                                   110
+
+The Toilers                                                          112
+
+On the Gulf of Night                                                 114
+
+A Harvest Song                                                       116
+
+Two Taverns                                                          118
+
+The Man under the Stone                                              119
+
+Song to the Divine Mother                                            121
+
+The Flying Mist                                                      127
+
+From the Hand of a Child                                             129
+
+At the Meeting of Seven Valleys                                      131
+
+The Rock-Breaker                                                     132
+
+These Songs Will Perish                                              133
+
+
+
+
+The Man with the Hoe
+
+
+
+
+The Man with the Hoe
+
+_Written after seeing Millet’s World-Famous Painting_
+
+    God made man in His own image,
+    in the image of God made He him.--_Genesis._
+
+
+    Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
+    Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
+    The emptiness of ages in his face,
+    And on his back the burden of the world.
+    Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
+    A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,
+    Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
+    Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
+    Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
+    Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
+
+    Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
+    To have dominion over sea and land;
+    To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
+    To feel the passion of Eternity?
+    Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
+    And pillared the blue firmament with light?
+    Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf
+    There is no shape more terrible than this--
+    More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed--
+    More filled with signs and portents for the soul--
+    More fraught with menace to the universe.
+
+    What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
+    Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
+    Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?
+    What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
+    The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
+    Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
+    Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;
+    Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
+    Plundered, profaned and disinherited,
+    Cries protest to the Judges of the World,
+    A protest that is also prophecy.
+
+    O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
+    Is this the handiwork you give to God,
+    This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
+    How will you ever straighten up this shape;
+    Touch it again with immortality;
+    Give back the upward looking and the light;
+    Rebuild in it the music and the dream;
+    Make right the immemorial infamies,
+    Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
+
+    O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
+    How will the Future reckon with this Man?
+    How answer his brute question in that hour
+    When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world?
+    How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--
+    With those who shaped him to the thing he is--
+    When this dumb Terror shall reply to God,
+    After the silence of the centuries?
+
+
+
+
+A Look into the Gulf
+
+
+    I looked one night, and there Semiramis,
+    With all her mourning doves about her head,
+    Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell,
+    Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon
+    Snatches of song they sang to her of old
+    Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh.
+    And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh:
+    “The bugles! they are crying back again--
+    Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon,
+    And then went crying on through Nineveh.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill!
+    Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen,
+    A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell
+    Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread
+    Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers:
+    Assyria goes by upon the wind!”
+    And so she babbles by the ancient road,
+    While cities turned to dust upon the Earth
+    Rise through her whirling brain to live again--
+    Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead
+    Her weary lips beat on without a sound.
+
+
+
+
+Brotherhood
+
+
+      The crest and crowning of all good,
+      Life’s final star, is Brotherhood;
+      For it will bring again to Earth
+      Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;
+      Will send new light on every face,
+      A kingly power upon the race.
+      And till it come, we men are slaves,
+    And travel downward to the dust of graves.
+
+      Come, clear the way, then, clear the way:
+      Blind creeds and kings have had their day.
+      Break the dead branches from the path:
+      Our hope is in the aftermath--
+      Our hope is in heroic men,
+      Star-led to build the world again.
+      To this Event the ages ran:
+    Make way for Brotherhood--make way for Man.
+
+
+
+
+Song of the Followers of Pan
+
+
+    Our bursting bugles blow apart
+      The gates of cities as we go;
+    We bring the music of the heart
+      From secret wells in Lillimo’.
+
+    We break in music on the morns--
+      Sing of the flower to stirring roots;
+    Apollo’s cry is in the horns,
+      And Hermes’ whisper in the flutes.
+
+    We come with laughter to the Earth,
+      And lightly stir the heading wheat:
+    Our God is Poesy and Mirth,
+      And loves the noise of woodland feet.
+
+    When dancers beat the air to sound,
+      After the time of yellow sheaves,
+    He stops to watch the merry round,
+      His pleased face looking through the leaves.
+
+
+
+
+Little Brothers of the Ground
+
+
+    Little ants in leafy wood,
+    Bound by gentle Brotherhood,
+    While ye gaily gather spoil,
+    Men are ground by the wheel of toil;
+    While ye follow Blessed Fates,
+    Men are shriveled up with hates;
+    Or they lie with sheeted Lust,
+    And they eat the bitter dust.
+
+    Ye are fraters in your hall,
+    Gay and chainless, great and small;
+    All are toilers in the field,
+    All are sharers in the yield.
+    But we mortals plot and plan
+    How to grind the fellow-man;
+    Glad to find him in a pit,
+    If we get some gain of it.
+    So with us, the sons of Time,
+    Labor is a kind of crime,
+    For the toilers have the least,
+    While the idlers lord the feast.
+    Yes, our workers they are bound,
+    Pallid captives to the ground;
+    Jeered by traitors, fooled by knaves,
+    Till they stumble into graves.
+
+    How appears to tiny eyes
+    All this wisdom of the wise?
+
+
+
+
+Wail of the Wandering Dead
+
+
+    Death, too, is a chimera and betrays,
+      And yet they promised we should enter rest;
+    Death is as empty as the cup of days,
+      And bitter milk is in her wintry breast.
+
+    There is no worth in any world to come,
+      Nor any in the world we left behind;
+    And what remains of all our masterdom?--
+      Only a cry out of the crumbling mind.
+
+    We played all comers at the old Gray Inn,
+      But played the King of Players to our cost.
+    We played Him fair and had no chance to win:
+      The dice of God were loaded and we lost.
+
+    We wander, wander, and the nights come down
+      With starless darkness and the rush of rains;
+    We drift as phantoms by the songless town,
+      We drift as litter on the windy lanes.
+
+    Hope is the fading vision of the heart,
+      A mocking spirit throwing up wild hands.
+    She led us on with music at the start,
+      To leave us at dead fountains in the sands.
+
+    Now all our days are but a cry for sleep,
+      For we are weary of the petty strife.
+    Is there not somewhere in the endless deep
+      A place where we can lose the feel of life?
+
+    Where we can be as senseless as the dust
+      The night wind blows about a dried-up well?
+    Where there is no more labor, no more lust,
+      Nor any flesh to feel the Tooth of Hell?
+
+    Our feet are ever sliding, and we seem
+      As old and weary as the pyramids.
+    Come, God of Ages, and dispel the dream,
+      Fold the worn hands and close the sinking lids.
+
+    There is no new road for the dead to take:
+      Wild hearts are we among the worlds astray--
+    Wild hearts are we that cannot wholly break,
+      But linger on though life has gone away.
+
+    We are the sons of Misery and Eld:
+      Come, tender Death, with all your hushing wings,
+    And let our broken spirits be dispelled--
+      Let dead men sink into the dusk of things.
+
+
+
+
+A Prayer
+
+
+    Teach me, Father, how to go
+    Softly as the grasses grow;
+    Hush my soul to meet the shock
+    Of the wild world as a rock;
+    But my spirit, propt with power,
+    Make as simple as a flower.
+    Let the dry heart fill its cup,
+    Like a poppy looking up;
+    Let life lightly wear her crown,
+    Like a poppy looking down,
+    When its heart is filled with dew,
+    And its life begins anew.
+
+    Teach me, Father, how to be
+    Kind and patient as a tree.
+    Joyfully the crickets croon
+    Under shady oak at noon;
+    Beetle, on his mission bent,
+    Tarries in that cooling tent.
+    Let me, also, cheer a spot,
+    Hidden field or garden grot--
+    Place where passing souls can rest
+    On the way and be their best.
+
+
+
+
+The Poet
+
+
+    His home is in the heights: to him
+    Men wage a battle weird and dim,
+    Life is a mission stern as fate,
+    And Song a dread apostolate.
+    The toils of prophecy are his,
+    To hail the coming centuries--
+    To ease the steps and lift the load
+    Of souls that falter on the road.
+    The perilous music that he hears
+    Falls from the vortice of the spheres.
+
+    He presses on before the race,
+    And sings out of a silent place.
+    Like faint notes of a forest bird
+    On heights afar that voice is heard;
+    And the dim path he breaks to-day
+    Will some time be a trodden way.
+    But when the race comes toiling on
+    That voice of wonder will be gone--
+    Be heard on higher peaks afar,
+    Moved upward with the morning star.
+
+    O men of earth, that wandering voice
+    Still goes the upward way: rejoice!
+
+
+
+
+The Whirlwind Road
+
+
+    The Muses wrapped in mysteries of light
+    Came in a rush of music on the night;
+    And I was lifted wildly on quick wings,
+    And borne away into the deep of things.
+    The dead doors of my being broke apart;
+    A wind of rapture blew across the heart;
+    The inward song of worlds rang still and clear;
+    I felt the Mystery the Muses fear;
+    Yet they went swiftening on the ways untrod,
+    And hurled me breathless at the feet of God.
+
+    I felt faint touches of the Final Truth--
+    Moments of trembling love, moments of youth.
+    A vision swept away the human wall;
+    Slowly I saw the meaning of it all--
+    Meaning of life and time and death and birth,
+    But can not tell it to the men of Earth.
+    I only point the way, and they must go
+    The whirlwind road of song if they would know.
+
+
+
+
+The Desire of Nations
+
+     And the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall
+     be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The ever-lasting
+     Father, The Prince of Peace.--_Isaiah._
+
+
+    Earth will go back to her lost youth,
+    And life grow deep and wonderful as truth,
+    When the wise King out of the nearing heaven comes
+    To break the spell of long millenniums--
+    To build with song again
+    The broken hope of men--
+    To hush and heroize the world,
+    Beneath the flag of Brotherhood unfurled.
+    And He will come some day:
+    Already is His star upon the way!
+    He comes, O world, He comes!
+    But not with bugle-cry nor roll of doubling drums.
+
+    Nay, for He comes to loosen and unbind,
+    To build the lofty purpose in the mind,
+    To stir the heart’s deep chord....
+    No rude horns parleying, no shock of shields;
+    Nor as of old the glory of the Lord
+    To half-awakened shepherds in the fields,
+    Looking with foolish faces on the rush
+    Of the Great Splendor, when the pulsing hush
+    Came o’er the hills, came o’er the heavens afar
+    Where on their cliff of stars the watching seraphs are.
+
+    Nor as of old when first the Strong One trod,
+    The Power of sepulchers--our Risen God!
+    When on that deathless morning in the dark,
+    He quit the Garden of the Sepulcher,
+    Setting the oleander boughs astir,
+    And pausing at the gate with backward hark.--
+    Nay, nor as when the Hero-King of Heaven
+    Came with upbraiding to His faint eleven,
+    And found the world-way to His bright feet barred,
+    And hopeless then because men’s hearts were hard.
+
+    Nor will He come like carnal kings of old,
+    With pomp of pilfered gold;
+    Nor like the pharisees with pride of prayer;
+    Nor as the stumbling foolish stewards dream
+    In tedious argument and fruitless creed,
+    But in the passion of the heart-warm deed
+    Will come the Man Supreme.
+    Yea, for He comes to lift the Public Care--
+    To build on Earth the Vision hung in air.
+    This is the one fulfillment of His Law--
+    The one Fact in the mockeries that seem.
+    This is the Vision that the prophets saw--
+    The Comrade Kingdom builded in their dream.
+
+    No, not as in that elder day
+    Comes now the King upon the human way.
+    He comes with power: His white unfearing face
+    Shines through the Social Passion of the race.
+    He comes to frame the freedom of the Law,
+    To touch these men of Earth
+    With feeling of life’s oneness and its worth,
+    A feeling of its mystery and awe.
+
+    And when He comes into the world gone wrong,
+    He will rebuild her beauty with a song.
+    To every heart He will its own dream be:
+    One moon has many phantoms in the sea.
+    Out of the North the norns will cry to men:
+    “Balder the Beautiful has come again!”
+    The flutes of Greece will whisper from the dead:
+    “Apollo has unveiled his sunbright head!”
+    The stones of Thebes and Memphis will find voice:
+    “Osiris comes: O tribes of Time, rejoice!”
+    And social architects who build the State,
+    Serving the Dream at citadel and gate,
+    Will hail Him coming through the labor-hum.
+    And glad quick cries will go from man to man:
+    “Lo, He has come, our Christ the Artisan--
+    The King who loved the lilies, He has come!”
+
+    He will arrive, our Counselor and Chief.
+    And with bleak faces lighted up will come
+    The earth-worn mothers from their martyrdom,
+    To tell Him of their grief.
+    And glad girls caroling from field and town
+    Will go to meet Him with the labor-crown,
+    The new crown woven of the heading wheat.
+    And men will sit down at His sacred feet;
+    And He will say--the King--
+    “Come, let us live the poetry we sing!”
+    And these, His burning words, will break the ban--
+    Words that will grow to be,
+    On continent, on sea,
+    The rallying cry of man....
+
+    He comes to make the long injustice right--
+    Comes to push back the shadow of the night,
+    The gray Tradition full of flint and flaw--
+    Comes to wipe out the insults to the soul,
+    The insults of the Few against the Whole,
+    The insults they make righteous with a law.
+
+    Yea, He will bear the Safety of the State,
+    For in his still and rhythmic steps will be
+    The power and music of Alcyone,
+    Who holds the swift heavens in their starry fate.
+    Yea, He will lay on souls the power of peace,
+    And send on kingdoms torn the sense of Home--
+    More than the fire of Joy that burned on Greece,
+    More than the light of Law that rose on Rome.
+
+
+
+
+The Elf Child
+
+
+    I am a child of the reef and the blowing spray,
+      And all my heart goes wildly to the sea.
+      I am a changeling: can you follow me
+    Through hill and hollow on the wind’s dim way?
+    Yes, at the break of a tempestuous day
+      They bore me to the land through starless storm,
+      And laid me in the pillow sweetly warm
+    And broken by the first one’s little stay.
+
+    The elf kings found me on an ocean reef,
+    A lyric child of mystery and grief.
+      Then need I tell you why the trembling start--
+    Why in my song the sound of ocean dwells--
+    Why the quick gladness when the billow swells,
+      As though remembered voices called the heart?
+
+
+
+
+The Goblin Laugh
+
+
+    When I behold how men and women grind
+      And grovel for some place of pomp or power,
+      To shine and circle through a crumbling hour,
+    Forgetting the large mansions of the mind,
+    That are the rest and shelter of mankind;
+      And when I see them come with wearied brains
+      Pallid and powerless to enjoy their gains,
+    I seem to hear a goblin laugh unwind.
+
+    And then a memory sends upon its billow
+      Thoughts of a singer wise enough to play,
+      Who took life as a lightsome holiday:
+    Oft have I seen him make his arm a pillow,
+    Drink from his hand, and with a pipe of willow
+      Blow a wild music down a woodland way.
+
+
+
+
+Poetry
+
+
+    She comes as hush and beauty of the night,
+      And sees too deep for laughter;
+    Her touch is a vibration and a light
+      From worlds before and after.
+
+
+
+
+A Meeting
+
+
+    Softly she came one twilight from the dead,
+      And in the passionate silence of her look
+      Was more than man has writ in any book:
+    And now my thoughts are restless, and a dread
+    Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted;
+      For down the leafy ways her white feet took,
+      Lightly the newly broken roses shook--
+    Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head?
+
+    God! was it joy or sorrow in her face--
+      That quiet face? Had it grown old or young?
+      Was it sweet memory or sad that stung
+    Her voiceless soul to wander from its place?
+    What do the dead find in the Silence--grace?
+      Or endless grief for which there is no tongue?
+
+
+
+
+Infinite Depths
+
+
+    The little pool, in street or field apart,
+      Glasses deep heavens and the rushing storm;
+    And into silent depths of every heart,
+      The Eternal throws its awful shadow-form.
+
+
+
+
+A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book
+
+
+    Beside the sewing-table chained and bent,
+      They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud--
+      For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;
+    They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rent
+    Torn in life’s golden curtains. Glad Youth went,
+      And left them alone with Time; and now if bowed
+      With burdens they should sob and cry aloud,--
+    Wondering, the rich would look from their content.
+
+    And so this glimmering life at last recedes
+      In unknown, endless depths beyond recall;
+    And what’s the worth of all our ancient creeds,
+      If here at the end of ages this is all--
+      A white face floating in the whirling ball,
+    A dead face plashing in the river reeds?
+
+
+
+
+The Paymaster
+
+
+    There is a sacred Something on all ways--
+      Something that watches through the Universe;
+    One that remembers, reckons and repays,
+      Giving us love for love, and curse for curse.
+
+
+
+
+The Last Furrow
+
+
+    The Spirit of Earth, with still restoring hands,
+      ’Mid ruin moves, in glimmering chasm gropes,
+      And mosses mantle and the bright flower opes;
+    But Death the Ploughman wanders in all lands,
+    And to the last of Earth his furrow stands.
+      The grave is never hidden; fearful hopes
+    Follow the dead upon the fading slopes,
+      And there wild memories meet upon the sands.
+
+    When willows fling their banners to the plain,
+      When rumor of winds and sound of sudden showers
+    Disturb the dream of winter--all in vain
+      The grasses hurry to the graves, the flowers
+      Toss their wild torches on their windy towers;
+    Yet are the bleak graves lonely in the rain.
+
+
+
+
+In the Storm
+
+
+    I huddled close against the mighty cliff.
+    A sense of safety and of brotherhood
+    Broke on the heart: the shelter of a rock
+    Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world.
+
+
+
+
+After Reading Shakspere
+
+
+    Blithe Fancy lightly builds with airy hands
+      Or on the edges of the darkness peers,
+      Breathless and frightened at the Voice she hears:
+    Imagination (lo! the sky expands)
+    Travels the blue arch and Cimmerian sands,--
+      Homeless on earth, the pilgrim of the spheres,
+      The rush of light before the hurrying years,
+    The Voice that cries in unfamiliar lands.
+
+    Men weigh the moons that flood with eerie light
+      The dusky vales of Saturn--wood and stream;
+    But who shall follow on the awful sweep
+    Of Neptune through the dim and dreadful deep?
+    Onward he wanders in the unknown night,
+    And we are shadows moving in a dream.
+
+
+
+
+The Hidden Valley
+
+
+    I stray with Ariel and Caliban:
+      I know the hill of windy pines--I know
+      Where the jay’s nest swings in the wild gorge below:
+    Lightly I climb where fallen cedars span
+    Bright rivers--climb to a valley under ban,
+      Where west winds set a thousand bells ablow--
+      An eerie valley where in the morning glow
+    I hear the music of the pipes of Pan.
+
+    Mysterious horns blow by on the still air--
+      A satyr steps--a wood-god’s dewy notes
+      Come faintly from a vale of tossing oats.--
+    But ho! what white thing in the canyon crossed?
+    Gods! I shall come on Dian unaware,
+    Look on her fearful beauty and be lost.
+
+
+
+
+The Poets
+
+
+    Some cry of Sappho’s lyre, of Saadi’s flute,
+      Comes back across the waste of mortal things:
+    Men strive and die to reach the Dead Sea fruit--
+      Only the poets find immortal springs.
+
+
+
+
+Love’s Vigil
+
+
+    Love will outwatch the stars, and light the skies
+      When the last star falls, and the silent dark devours;
+      God’s warrior, he will watch the allotted hours,
+    And conquer with the look of his sad eyes:
+    He shakes the kingdom of darkness with his sighs,
+      His quiet sighs, while all the Infernal Powers
+      Tremble and pale upon their central towers,
+    Lest, haply, his bright universe arise.
+
+    All will be well if he have strength to wait,
+      Till his lost Pleiad, white and silver-shod,
+    Regains her place to make the perfect Seven;
+    Then all the worlds will know that Love is Fate--
+    That somehow he is greater even than Heaven--
+      That in the Cosmic Council he is God.
+
+
+
+
+Two at a Fireside
+
+
+    I built a chimney for a comrade old,
+      I did the service not for hope or hire--
+    And then I traveled on in winter’s cold,
+      Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.
+
+
+
+
+The Butterfly
+
+
+    O wingèd brother on the harebell, stay--
+      Was God’s hand very pitiful, the hand
+      That wrought thy beauty at a dream’s demand?
+
+    _Yea, knowing I love so well the flowery way,_
+    _He did not fling me to the world astray--_
+      _He did not drop me to the weary sand,_
+      _But bore me gently to a leafy land:_
+    _Tinting my wings, He gave me to the day._
+
+    Oh, chide no more my doubting, my despair!
+      I will go back now to the world of men.
+    Farewell, I leave thee to the world of air,
+      Yet thou hast girded up my heart again;
+    For He that framed the impenetrable plan,
+    And keeps His word with thee, will keep with man.
+
+
+
+
+To William Watson
+
+_After reading “The Purple East.”_
+
+
+    That hour you put the wreath of England by
+      To shake her guilty heart with song sublime,
+    The mighty Muse that watches from the sky
+      Laid on your head the larger wreath of Time.
+
+
+
+
+Keats A-Dying
+
+
+    Often of that Last Hour I lie and think;
+      I see thee, Keats, nearing the Deathway dim--
+      See Severn in his noiseless hurry, him
+    Who leaned above thee fading on the brink.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    What is that wild light through the window chink?
+      Is it the burning feet of cherubim?
+      Or is it the white moon on western rim--
+    Saint Agnes’ moon beginning now to sink?
+
+    How did Death come--with sounds of water-stir?
+      With forms of beauty breaking at the lips?
+    With field pipes and the scent of blowing fir?
+      Or came it hurrying like a last eclipse,
+    Sweeping the world away like gossamer,
+      Blotting the moon, the mountains, and the ships?
+
+
+
+
+Man
+
+
+    Out of the deep and endless universe
+    There came a greater Mystery, a Shape,
+    A Something sad, inscrutable, august--
+    One to confront the worlds and question them.
+
+
+
+
+The Cricket
+
+
+    The twilight is the morning of his day,
+      While sleep drops seaward from the fading shore,
+      With purpling sail and dip of silver oar,
+    He cheers the shadowed time with roun-delay,
+    Until the dark east softens into gray.
+      Now as the noisy hours are coming--hark!
+      His song dies gently--it is growing dark--
+    His night, with its one star, is on its way!
+
+    Faintly the light breaks o’er the blowing oats--
+      Sleep, little brother, sleep: I am astir,
+      We worship Song, and servants are of her--
+    I in the bright hours, thou in shadow-time;
+    Lead thou the starlit night with merry notes,
+    And I will lead the clamoring day with rhyme.
+
+
+
+
+In High Sierras
+
+
+    There at a certain hour of the deep night,
+    A gray cliff with a demon face comes up,
+    Wrinkled and old, behind the peaks, and with
+    An anxious look peers at the Zodiac.
+
+
+
+
+The Wharf of Dreams
+
+
+    Strange wares are handled on the wharves of sleep:
+      Shadows of shadows pass, and many a light
+      Flashes a signal fire across the night;
+    Barges depart whose voiceless steersmen keep
+    Their way without a star upon the deep;
+      And from lost ships, homing with ghostly crews,
+      Come cries of incommunicable news,
+    While cargoes pile the piers, a moon-white heap--
+
+    Budgets of dream-dust, merchandise of song,
+    Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong,
+      Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand,
+    Fardels of heartache, burdens of old sins,
+    Luggage sent down from dim ancestral inns,
+      And bales of fantasy from No-Man’s Land.
+
+
+
+
+To Louise Michel
+
+
+    I cannot take your road, Louise Michel,
+      Priestess of Pity and of Vengeance--no:
+      Down that amorphous gulf I cannot go--
+    That gulf of Anarchy whose pit is Hell.
+    Yet, sister, though my first word is farewell,
+      Remember that I know your hidden woe;
+      Have felt the grief that rends you blow on blow;
+    Have knelt beside you in the murky cell.
+
+    You never followed hate (let this atone)
+    Nor knew the wrongs of others from your own:
+      Wild was the road, but Love has always led,
+    So I am silent where I cannot praise;
+    And here now at the parting of the ways,
+      I lay a still hand lightly on your head.
+
+
+
+
+Shepherd Boy and Nereid
+
+
+    Ah, once of old in some forgotten tongue,
+      Forgotten land, I was a shepherd boy,
+      And you a Nereid, a wingèd joy:
+    On through the dawn-bright peaks our bodies swung
+    And flower-soft lyrics by immortals sung
+      Fell from their unseen pinnacles in air:
+      God looked from Heaven that hour, for you were fair,
+    And I a poet, and the star was young.
+
+    You’d heard my woodland pipe and left the sea--
+      Your hair blown gold and all your body white--
+    Had left the ocean-girls to follow me.
+      We joined the hill-nymphs in their joyous flight,
+    And you laughed lightly to the sea, and sent
+    Quick glances flashing through me as I went.
+
+
+
+
+A Song at the Start
+
+
+    Oh, down the quick river our galley is going,
+      With a sound in the cordage, a beam on the sail:
+    The wind of the canyon our loose hair is blowing,
+      And the clouds of the morning are glad of the gale.
+
+    Around the swift prow little billows are breaking,
+      And flinging their foam in a glory of light;
+    Now the shade of a rock on the river is shaking,
+      And a wave leaps high up growing suddenly white.
+
+    The weight of the whole world is light as a feather,
+      And the peaks rise in silence and westerly flee:
+    Oh, the world and the poet are singing together,
+      And from the far cliff comes a sound of the sea.
+
+
+
+
+My Comrade
+
+
+    I never build a song by night or day,
+      Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,
+    But in some wondrous unexpected way,
+      Like light upon a road, my Love comes in.
+
+    And when I go at night upon the hill,
+      My heart is lifted on mysterious wings:
+    My Love is there to strengthen and to still,
+      For she can take away the dread of things.
+
+
+
+
+A Lyric of the Dawn
+
+
+          Alone I list
+      In the leafy tryst;
+    Silent the woodlands in their starry sleep--
+    Silent the phantom wood in waters deep:
+    No footfall of a wind along the pass
+    Startles a harebell--stirs a blade of grass.
+      Yonder the wandering weeds,
+      Enchanted in the light,
+    Stand in the gusty hollows, still and white;
+      Yonder are plumy reeds,
+    Dusking the border of the clear lagoon;
+      Far off the silver clifts
+    Hang in ethereal light below the moon;
+      Far off the ocean lifts,
+    Tossing its billows in the misty beam,
+    And shore-lines whiten, silent as a dream:
+    I hark for the bird, and all the hushed hills harken:
+    This is the valley: here the branches darken
+          The silver-lighted stream.
+
+          Hark--
+      That rapture in the leafy dark!
+    Who is it shouts upon the bough aswing,
+    Waking the upland and the valley under?
+    What carols, like the blazon of a king,
+      Fill all the dawn with wonder?
+          Oh, hush,
+      It is the thrush,
+      In the deep and woody glen!
+    Ah, thus the gladness of the gods was sung,
+      When the old Earth was young;
+      That rapture rang,
+    When the first morning on the mountains sprang:
+    And now he shouts, and the world is young again!
+
+          Carol, my king,
+      On your bough aswing
+    Thou art not of these evil days--
+    Thou art a voice of the world’s lost youth:
+    Oh, tell me what is duty--what is truth--
+    How to find God upon these hungry ways;
+      Tell of the golden prime,
+    When men beheld swift deities descend,
+    Before the race was left alone with Time,
+    Homesick on Earth, and homeless to the end,
+    When bird and beast could make a man their friend;
+      Before great Pan was dead,
+      Before the naiads fled;
+    When maidens white with dark eyes shy and bold,
+    With peals of laughter on the peaks of gold,
+      Startled the still dawn--
+    Shone in upon the mountains and were gone,
+    Their voices fading silverly in depths of forests old.
+
+    Sing of the wonders of their woodland ways,
+    Before the weird earth-hunger of these days,
+      When there was rippling mirth,
+      When justice was on Earth,
+    And light and grandeur of the Golden Age;
+      When never a heart was sad,
+      When all from king to herdsman had
+        A penny for a wage.
+    Ah, that old time has faded to a dream--
+    The moon’s fair face is broken in the stream;
+    Yet shout and carol on, O bird, and let
+    The exiled race not utterly forget;
+    Publish thy revelation on the lawns--
+    Sing ever in the dark ethereal dawns;
+      Sometime, in some sweet year,
+    These stormy souls, these men of Earth may hear.
+
+          But hark again,
+      From the secret glen,
+    That voice of rapture and ethereal youth
+      Now laden with despair.
+      Forbear, O bird, forbear:
+    Is life not terrible enough forsooth?
+      Cease, cease the mystic song--
+    No more, no more, the passion and the pain:
+    It wakes my life to fret against the chain;
+    It makes me think of all the agèd wrong--
+    Of joy and the end of joy and the end of all--
+    Of souls on Earth, and souls beyond recall.
+      Ah, ah, that voice again!
+    It makes me think of all these restless men,
+    Called into time--their progress and their goal;
+      And now, oh now, it sends into my soul
+    Dreams of a love that might have been for me--
+    That might have been--and now can never be.
+
+      Tell me no more of these--
+      Tell me of trancèd trees;
+    (The ghosts, the memories, in pity spare)
+    Show me the leafy home of the wild bees;
+    Show me the snowy summits dim in air;
+      Tell me of things afar
+    In valleys silent under moon and star:
+      Dim hollows hushed with night,
+    The lofty cedars misty in the light,
+      Wild clusters of the vine,
+      Wild odors of the pine,
+    The eagle’s eyrie lifted to the moon--
+    High places where on quiet afternoon
+    A shadow swiftens by, a thrilling scream
+    Startles the cliff, and dies across the woodland to a dream.
+
+          Ha, now
+      He springs from the bough,
+      It flickers--he is lost!
+      Out of the copse he sprang;
+    This is the floating briar where he tossed:
+    The leaves are yet atremble where he sang.
+      Here a long vista opens--look!
+      This is the way he took,
+    Through the pale poplars by the pond:
+    Hark! he is shouting in the field beyond.
+      Ho, there he goes
+      Through the alder close!
+    He leaves me here behind him in his flight,
+    And yet my heart goes with him out of sight!
+      What whispered spell
+    Of Faëry calls me on from dell to dell?
+    I hear the voice--it wanders in a dream--
+    Now in the grove, now on the hill, now on the fading stream.
+
+      Lead on--you know the way--
+          Lead on to Arcady,
+    O’er fields asleep; by river bank abrim;
+    Down leafy ways, dewy and cool and dim;
+    By dripping rocks, dark dwellings of the gnome,
+    Where hurrying waters dash their crests to foam.
+      I follow where you lead,
+    Down winding paths, across the flowery mead,
+    Down silent hollows where the woodbine blows,
+    Up water-courses scented by the rose.
+      I follow the wandering voice--
+      I follow, I rejoice,
+    I fade away into the Age of Gold--
+    We two together lost in forest old.--
+    O ferny and thymy paths, O fields of Aidenn,
+    Canyons and cliffs by mortal feet untrod!
+    O souls that weary and are heavy laden,
+          Here is the peace of God!
+
+    Lo! now the clamoring hours are on the way:
+    Faintly the pine tops redden in the ray;
+    From vale to vale fleet-footed rumors run,
+    With sudden apprehension of the sun;
+        A light wind stirs
+    The filmy tops of delicate dim firs,
+      And on the river border blows,
+    Breaking the shy bud softly to a rose.
+      Sing out, O throstle, sing:
+      I follow on, my king:
+    Lead me forever through the crimson dawn--
+      Till the world ends, lead me on!
+    Ho there! he shouts again--he sways--and now,
+      Upspringing from the bough,
+    Flashing a glint of dew upon the ground,
+      Without a sound
+    He drops into a valley and is gone!
+
+
+
+
+Joy of the Morning
+
+
+    I hear you, little bird,
+    Shouting aswing above the broken wall.
+    Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all.
+    Sing to my soul in the deep still wood:
+    ’Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word:
+    I’d tell it, too, if I could.
+
+    Oft when the white, still dawn
+    Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart,
+    I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart--
+    (The world’s mysterious stir)
+    But had no throat like yours, my bird,
+    Nor such a listener.
+
+
+
+
+Youth and Time
+
+
+    Once, I remember, the world was young;
+    The rills rejoiced with a silver tongue;
+    The field-lark sat in the wheat and sang;
+    The thrush’s shout in the woodland rang;
+    The cliffs and the perilous sands afar
+    Were softened to mist by the morning star;
+    For Youth was with me (I know it now!),
+    And a light shone out from his wreathèd brow.
+    He turned the fields to enchanted ground,
+    He touched the rains with a dreamy sound.
+
+    But alas, he vanished, and Time appeared,
+    The Spirit of Ages, old and weird.
+    He crushed and scattered my beamy wings;
+    He dragged me forth from the court of kings;
+    He gave me doubt and a bloom of beard,
+    This Spirit of Ages, old and weird.
+    The wonder went from the field of corn,
+    The glory died on the craggy horn;
+    And suddenly all was strange and gray,
+    And the rocks came out on the trodden way.
+
+    I hear no more the wild thrush sing:
+    He is silent now on the peach aswing.
+    Something is gone from the house of mirth--
+    Something is gone from the hills of Earth.
+    Time hurries me on with a wizard hand;
+    He turns the Earth to a homeless land;
+    He stays my life with a stingy breath,
+    And darkens its depths with foreknowledge of death;
+    Calls memories back on their path apace;
+    Sends desperate thoughts to the soul’s dim place.
+
+    Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin,
+    And pushes us on to the windowless inn.
+
+
+
+
+A Satyr Song
+
+
+    I know by the stir of the branches
+      The way she went;
+    And at times I can see where a stem
+      Of the grass is bent.
+    She’s the secret and light of my life,
+      She allures to elude;
+    But I follow the spell of her beauty
+      Whatever the mood.
+
+    I have followed all night in the hills,
+      And my breath is deep,
+    But she flies on before like a voice
+      In the vale of sleep.
+    I follow the print of her feet
+      In the wild river bed,
+    And lo, she calls gleefully down
+      From a cliff overhead.
+
+
+
+
+A Cry in the Night
+
+
+    Wail, wail, wail,
+      For the fleering world goes down:
+    Into the song of the poet pale
+      Mixes the laugh of the clown.
+
+    Grim, grim, grim,
+      Is the road we go to the dead;
+    Yet we must on, for a Something dim
+      Pushes the soul ahead.
+
+    Where, where, where,
+      Through the dust and shadow of things
+    Will the fleeing Fates with their wild manes bear
+      These tribes of slaves and kings?
+
+
+
+
+Fays
+
+
+    One secret night, I stood where ocean pours
+    Eternal waters on the yellow shores,
+    And saw the drift of fays that Prosper saw:
+    (Their feet had no more sound than blowing straw.)
+    And little hands held light in little hands
+    They chased a fleeing billow down the sands,
+    But turned in the nick o’ time, and mad with glee
+    Raced back again before the swelling sea.
+
+
+
+
+In Death Valley
+
+
+    There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,
+    Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill,
+    Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.
+    Around were heaps of ruins piled between
+    The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;
+    And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls
+    One pillar rose up dark against the moon.
+    There was a nameless Presence everywhere;
+    In the gray soil there was a purple stain,
+    And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood--
+    Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.
+    It was the mark of some ancestral grief--
+    Grief that began before the ancient Flood.
+
+
+
+
+At Dawn
+
+
+    Just then the branches lightly stirred....
+    See, out o’ the apple boughs a bird
+    Bursts music-mad into the blue abyss:
+    Rothschild would give his gold for this--
+    The wealth of nations, if he knew:
+    (And find a profit in the business, too.)
+
+
+
+
+“Follow Me”
+
+
+    O friend, we never choose the better part,
+    Until we set the Cross up in the heart.
+    I know I can not live until I die--
+    Till I am nailed upon it wild and high,
+    And sleep in the tomb for a full three days dead,
+    With angels at the feet and at the head.
+    But then in a great brightness I shall rise
+    To walk with stiller feet below the skies.
+
+
+
+
+In Poppy Fields
+
+
+    Here the poppy hosts assemble:
+    How they startle, how they tremble!
+    All their royal hoods unpinned
+    Blow out lightly in the wind.
+    Here is gold to labor for;
+    Here is pillage worth a war.
+
+    Men that in the cities grind,
+    Come! before the heart is blind.
+
+
+
+
+The Joy of the Hills
+
+
+    I ride on the mountain tops, I ride;
+    I have found my life and am satisfied.
+    Onward I ride in the blowing oats,
+    Checking the field-lark’s rippling notes--
+      Lightly I sweep
+      From steep to steep:
+    Over my head through the branches high
+    Come glimpses of a rushing sky;
+    The tall oats brush my horse’s flanks;
+    Wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks;
+    A bee booms out of the scented grass;
+    A jay laughs with me as I pass.
+
+    I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget
+      Life’s hoard of regret--
+      All the terror and pain
+      Of the chafing chain.
+
+      Grind on, O cities, grind:
+      I leave you a blur behind.
+    I am lifted elate--the skies expand:
+    Here the world’s heaped gold is a pile of sand.
+    Let them weary and work in their narrow walls:
+    I ride with the voices of waterfalls!
+
+    I swing on as one in a dream--I swing
+    Down the airy hollows, I shout, I sing!
+    The world is gone like an empty word:
+    My body’s a bough in the wind, my heart a bird!
+
+
+
+
+The Invisible Bride
+
+
+    The low-voiced girls that go
+      In gardens of the Lord,
+    Like flowers of the field they grow
+      In sisterly accord.
+
+    Their whispering feet are white
+      Along the leafy ways;
+    They go in whirls of light
+      Too beautiful for praise.
+
+    And in their band forsooth
+      Is one to set me free--
+    The one that touched my youth--
+      The one God gave to me.
+
+    She kindles the desire
+      Whereby the gods survive--
+    The white ideal fire
+      That keeps my soul alive.
+
+    Now at the wondrous hour,
+      She leaves her star supreme,
+    And comes in the night’s still power,
+      To touch me with a dream.
+
+    Sibyl of mystery
+      On roads beyond our ken,
+    Softly she comes to me,
+      And goes to God again.
+
+
+
+
+The Valley
+
+
+    I know a valley in the summer hills,
+    Haunted by little winds and daffodils;
+    Faint footfalls and soft shadows pass at noon;
+    Noiseless, at night, the clouds assemble there;
+    And ghostly summits hang below the moon--
+    Dim visions lightly swung in silent air.
+
+
+
+
+The Climb of Life
+
+
+    There’s a feel of all things flowing,
+      And no power of Earth can bind them;
+    There’s a sense of all things growing,
+    And through all their forms a-glowing
+      Of the shaping souls behind them.
+
+    And the break of beauty heightens
+      With the swiftening of the motion,
+    And the soul behind it lightens,
+    As a gleam of splendor whitens
+      From a running wave of ocean.
+
+    See the still hand of the Shaper,
+      Moving in the dusk of being:
+    Burns at first a misty taper,
+    Like the moon in veil of vapor,
+      When the rack of night is fleeing.
+
+    In the stone a dream is sleeping,
+      Just a tinge of life, a tremor;
+    In the tree a soul is creeping--
+    Last, a rush of angels sweeping
+      With the skies beyond the dreamer.
+
+    So the Lord of Life is flinging
+      Out a splendor that conceals Him:
+    And the God is softly singing
+    And on secret ways is winging,
+      Till the rush of song reveals Him.
+
+
+
+
+The Tragedy
+
+
+    Oh, the fret of the brain,
+      And the wounds and the worry;
+    Oh, the thought of love and the thought of death--
+      And the soul in its silent hurry.
+
+    But the stars break above,
+      And the fields flower under;
+    And the tragical life of man goes on,
+      Surrounded by beauty and wonder.
+
+
+
+
+Divine Vision
+
+
+    Can it be the Master knows
+    How the Cosmic Blossom blows?
+
+    Yes, at times the Lord of Light
+    Breaks forth wonderful and white,
+    And He strikes a corded lyre
+    In a rush of whirlwind fire;
+    And He sees before Him pass
+    Souls and planets in a glass;
+    And within the music hears
+    All the motions of all spheres,
+    All the whispers of all feet,
+    Cries of triumph and retreat,
+    Songs of systems and of souls,
+    Circling to their mighty goals.
+
+    So the Lord of Light beholds
+    How the Cosmic Flower unfolds.
+
+
+
+
+Midsummer Noon
+
+
+    Yonder a workman, under the cool bridge,
+    Resting at mid-day, watches the glancing midge,
+    While twinkling lights and murmurs of the stream
+    Pass into the dim fabric of his dream.
+    The misty hollows and the drowsy ridge--
+    How like an airy fantasy they seem.
+
+
+
+
+One Life, One Law
+
+
+    What do we know--what need we know
+    Of the great world to which we go?
+    We peer into the tomb, and hark:
+    Its walls are dim, its doors are dark.
+
+    Be still, O mourning heart, nor seek
+    To make the tongueless silence speak:
+    Be still, be strong, nor wish to find
+    Their way who leave the world behind--
+    Voices and forms forever gone
+    Into the darkness of the dawn.
+
+    What is their wisdom, clear and deep?--
+    That as men sow they surely reap,--
+    That every thought, that every deed,
+    Is sown into the soul for seed.
+    They have no word we do not know,--
+    Nor yet the cherubim aglow
+    With God: we know that virtue saves,--
+    They know no more beyond the graves.
+
+
+
+
+Griefs
+
+
+    The rains of winter scourged the weald,
+    For days they darkened on the field:
+    Now, where the wings of winter beat,
+    The poppies ripple in the wheat.
+
+    And pitiless griefs came thick and fast--
+    Life’s bough was naked in the blast--
+    Till silently amid the gloom
+    They blew the wintry heart to bloom.
+
+
+
+
+An Old Road
+
+
+    A host of poppies, a flight of swallows;
+    A flurry of rain, and a wind that follows
+    Shepherds the leaves in the sheltered hollows,
+      For the forest is shaken and thinned.
+
+    Over my head are the firs for rafter;
+    The crows blow south, and my heart goes after;
+    I kiss my hands to the world with laughter--
+      Is it Aidenn or mystical Ind?
+
+    Oh, the whirl of the fields in the windy weather!
+    How the barley breaks and blows together!
+    Oh, glad is the free bird afloat on the heather--
+      Oh, the whole world is glad of the wind!
+
+
+
+
+The New-Comers
+
+
+    Two swallows--each preening a long glossy feather;
+    Now they gossip and dart through the silvery weather;
+    Oh, praise to the Highest--two lovers together--
+      Free, free in the fathomless world of air.
+
+    No fate to oppose and no fortune to sunder;
+    Blue sky overhead--green sky breaking under;
+    And their home on the cliff in the midst of the wonder,
+      Hung high beyond fear on the gray granite stair.
+
+
+
+
+Music
+
+
+    It is the last appeal to man--
+    Voice crying since the world began;
+    The cry of the Ideal--cry
+    To aspirations that would die.
+    The last appeal! in it is heard
+    The pathos of the final word.
+
+    Voice tender and heroical--
+    Imperious voice that knoweth well
+    To wreck the reasonings of years,
+    To strengthen rebel hearts with tears.
+
+
+
+
+Fay Song
+
+
+    My life is a dream--a dream
+    In the moon’s cool beam;
+    Some day I shall wake and desire
+    A touch of the infinite fire.
+    But now ’tis enough that I be
+    In the light of the sea;
+    Enough that I climb with the cloud
+    When the winds of the morning are loud;
+    Enough that I fade with the stars
+    When the door of the East unbars.
+
+
+
+
+The Old Earth
+
+
+    How will it be if there we find no traces--
+    There in the Golden Heaven--if we find
+    No memories of the old Earth left behind,
+    No visions of familiar forms and faces--
+    Reminders of old voices and old places?
+    Yet could we bear it if it should remind?
+
+
+
+
+Divine Adventure
+
+
+    At times a youth (so whispered legend tells),
+    Like Hylas, stoops to drink
+    By forest-hidden brink,
+    And fair hands draw him down to darkened wells;
+    Fair hands that hold him fast
+    With laughter at the last
+    Have power to draw him lightly down to be
+    In elfin chambers under the gray sea.
+
+    And I, O men of Earth, I too,
+    When dawn was at the dew,
+    Was drawn as Hylas downward and beheld
+    Spirits of youth and eld--
+    Was swung down endless caverns to the deep,
+    Saw fervid jewels sparkle in their sleep,
+    Saw glad gnomes working in the dusty light,
+    Saw great rocks crouching in the primal night.
+    I was drawn down, and after many days
+    Returned with stiller feet to walk the upper ways.
+
+
+
+
+Song Made Flesh
+
+
+    I have no glory in these songs of mine:
+      If one of them can make a brother strong,
+    It came down from the peaks of the divine--
+      I heard it in the Heaven of Lyric Song.
+
+    The one who builds the poem into fact,
+      He is the rightful owner of it all:
+    The pale words are with God’s own power packed
+      When brave souls answer to their buglecall.
+
+    And so I ask no man to praise my song,
+      But I would have him build it in his soul;
+    For that great praise would make me glad and strong,
+      And build the poem to a perfect whole.
+
+
+
+
+To High-born Poets
+
+
+    There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed--
+    A cry from the toilers of Babylon for their rest.--
+    O Poet, thou art holden with a vow:
+    The light of higher worlds is on thy brow,
+    And Freedom’s star is soaring in thy breast.
+    Go, be a dauntless voice, a bugle-cry
+    In darkening battle when the winds are high--
+    A clear sane cry wherein the God is heard
+    To speak to men the one redeeming word.
+      No peace for thee, no peace,
+      Till blind oppression cease;
+      The stones cry from the walls,
+      Till the gray injustice falls--
+    Till strong men come to build in freedom-fate
+    The pillars of the new Fraternal State.
+
+      Let trifling pipe be mute,
+      Fling by the languid lute:
+    Take down the trumpet and confront the Hour,
+    And speak to toil-worn nations from a tower--
+    Take down the horn wherein the thunders sleep,
+    Blow battles into men--call down the fire--
+    The daring, the long purpose, the desire;
+    Descend with faith into the Human Deep,
+    And ringing to the troops of right a cheer,
+    Make known the Truth of Man in holy fear;
+    Send forth thy spirit in a storm of song,
+    A tempest flinging fire upon the wrong.
+
+
+
+
+The Toilers
+
+
+    Their blind feet drift in the darkness, and no one is leading;
+    Their toil is the pasture, where hyens and harpies are feeding;
+    In all lands and always, the wronged, the homeless, the humbled
+    Till the cliff-like pride of the spoiler is shaken and crumbled,
+    Till the Pillars of Hell are uprooted and left to their ruin,
+    And a rose-garden gladdens the places no rose ever blew in,
+    Where now men huddle together and whisper and harken,
+    Or hold their bleak hands over embers that die out and darken.
+    The anarchies gather and thunder: few, few are the fraters,
+    And loud is the revel at night in the camp of the traitors.
+    Say, Shelley, where are you--where are you? our hearts are a-breaking!
+    The fight in the terrible darkness--the shame--the forsaking!
+
+    The leaves shower down and are sport for the winds that come after;
+    And so are the Toilers in all lands the jest and the laughter
+    Of nobles--the Toilers scourged on in the furrow as cattle,
+    Or flung as a meat to the cannons that hunger in battle.
+
+
+
+
+On the Gulf of Night
+
+
+    The world’s sad petrels dwell for evermore
+    On windy headland or on ocean floor,
+    Or pierce the violent skies with perilous flights
+    That fret men in their palaces o’ nights,
+    Breaking enchanted slumber’s easeful boat,
+    With shudderings of their wild and dolorous note;
+    They blow about the black and barren skies,
+    They fill the night with ineffectual cries.
+
+    There is for them not anything before,
+    But sound of sea and sight of soundless shore,
+    Save when the darkness glimmers with a ray,
+    And Hope sings softly, _Soon it will be day_.
+    Then for a golden space the shades are thinned,
+    And dawn seems blowing seaward on the wind.
+    But soon the dark comes wilder than before,
+    And swift around them breaks a sullen roar;
+    The tempest calls to windward and to lea,
+    And--they are seabirds on the homeless sea.
+
+
+
+
+A Harvest Song
+
+
+    The gray bulk of the granaries uploom against the sky;
+    The harvest moon has dwindled--they have housed the corn and rye;
+    And now the idle reapers lounge against the bolted doors:
+    Without are hungry harvesters, within enchanted stores.
+
+    Lo, they had bread while they were out a-toiling in the sun:
+    Now they are strolling beggars, for the harvest work is done.
+    They are the gods of husbandry: they gather in the sheaves,
+    But when the autumn strips the wood, they’re drifting with the leaves.
+    They plow and sow and gather in the glory of the corn;
+    They know the noon, they know the pitiless rains before the morn;
+    They know the sweep of furrowed fields that darken in the gloom--
+    A little while their hope on earth, then evermore the tomb.
+
+
+
+
+Two Taverns
+
+
+    I remember how I lay
+    On a bank a summer day,
+    Peering into weed and flower:
+    Watched a poppy all one hour;
+    Watched it till the air grew chill
+    In the darkness of the hill;
+    Till I saw a wild bee dart
+    Out of the cold to the poppy’s heart;
+    Saw the petals gently spin,
+    And shut the little lodger in.
+    Then I took the quiet road
+    To my own secure abode.
+    All night long his tavern hung;
+    Now it rested, now it swung;
+    I asleep in steadfast tower,
+    He asleep in stirring flower;
+    In our hearts the same delight
+    In the hushes of the night;
+    Over us both the same dear care
+    As we slumbered unaware.
+
+
+
+
+The Man under the Stone
+
+
+    When I see a workingman with mouths to feed,
+    Up, day after day, in the dark before the dawn,
+    And coming home, night after night, through the dusk,
+    Swinging forward like some fierce silent animal,
+    I see a man doomed to roll a huge stone up an endless steep.
+    He strains it onward inch by stubborn inch,
+    Crouched always in the shadow of the rock....
+    See where he crouches, twisted, cramped, misshapen!
+    He lifts for their life;
+    The veins knot and darken--
+    Blood surges into his face....
+    Now he loses--now he wins--
+    Now he loses--loses--(God of my soul!)
+    He digs his feet into the earth--
+    There’s a moment of terrified effort.
+    Will the huge stone break his hold,
+    And crush him as it plunges to the gulf?
+
+    The silent struggle goes on and on,
+    Like two contending in a dream.
+
+
+
+
+Song to the Divine Mother[A]
+
+
+    Come, Mighty Mother, from the bright abode,
+      Lift the low heavens and hush the Earth again;
+    Come when the moon throws down a shining road
+      Across the sea--come back to weary men.
+
+    But if the moon throws out across the sea
+      Too dim a light, too wavering a way,
+    Come when the sunset paves a path for Thee
+      Across the waters fading into gray.
+
+    Dead nations saw Thee dimly in release--
+      In Aphrodite rising from the foam:
+    Some glimmer of Thy beauty was on Greece,
+      Some trembling of Thy passion was on Rome.
+
+    For ages Thou hast been the dim desire
+      That warmed the bridal chamber of the mind:
+    Come burning through the heavens with Holy Fire,
+      And spread divine contagion on mankind.
+
+    Come down, O Mother, to the helpless land,
+      That we may frame our Freedom into Fate:
+    Come down, and on the throne of nations stand,
+      That we may build Thy beauty in the State.
+
+    Come shining in upon our daily road,
+      Uphold the hero heart and light the mind;
+    Quicken the strong to lift the People’s load,
+      And bring back buried justice to mankind.
+
+    Shine through the frame of nations for a light,
+      Move through the hearts of heroes in a song:
+    It is Thy beauty, wilder than the night,
+      That hushed the heavens and keeps the high gods strong.
+
+    I know, Supernal Woman, Thou dost seek
+      No song of man, no worship and no praise;
+    But thou wouldst have dead lips begin to speak,
+      And dead feet rise to walk immortal ways.
+
+    Yet listen, Mighty Mother, to the child
+      Who has no voice but song to tell his grief--
+    Nothing but tears and broken numbers wild,
+      Nothing but woodland music for relief.
+
+    His song is but a little broken cry,
+      Less than the whisper of a river reed;
+    Yet thou canst hear in it the souls that die--
+      Feel in its pain the vastness of our need.
+
+    I would not break the mouth of song to tell
+      My life’s long passion and my heart’s long grief,
+    But Thou canst hear the ocean in one shell,
+      And see the whole world’s winter in one leaf.
+
+    So here I stand at the world’s weary feet,
+      And cry the sorrow of the world’s dumb years:
+    I cry because I hear the world’s heart beat
+      Weary of hope, weary of life and tears.
+
+    For ages Thou hast breathèd upon mankind
+      A faint wild tenderness, a vague desire;
+    For ages stilled the whirlwinds of the mind,
+      And sent on lyric seers the rush of fire.
+
+    And yet the world is held by wintry chain,
+      Dead to Thy social passion, Holy One:
+    The dried-up furrows need the vital rain,
+      The cold seeds the quick spirit of the sun.
+
+    Some day our homeless cries will draw Thee down,
+      And the old brightness on the ways of men
+    Will send a hush upon the jangling town,
+      And broken hearts will learn to love again.
+
+    Come, Bride of God, to fill the vacant Throne,
+      Touch the dim Earth again with sacred feet;
+    Come build the Holy City of white stone,
+      And let the whole world’s gladness be complete.
+
+    Come with the face that hushed the heavens of old--
+      Come with Thy maidens in a mist of light;
+    Haste for the night falls and the shadows fold,
+      And voices cry and wander on the height.
+
+
+
+
+The Flying Mist
+
+
+    I watch afar the moving Mystery,
+    The wool-shod, formless terror of the sea--
+    The Mystery whose lightest touch can change
+    The world God made to phantasy, death-strange.
+    Under its spell all things grow old and gray
+    As they will be beyond the Judgment Day.
+    All voices, at the lifting of some hand,
+    Seem calling to us from another land.
+    Is it the still Power of the Sepulcher
+    That makes all things the wraiths of things that were?
+
+    It touches, one by one, the wayside posts,
+    And they are gone, a line of hurrying ghosts.
+    It creeps upon the towns with stealthy feet,
+    And men are phantoms on a phantom street.
+    It strikes the towers and they are shafts of air,
+    Above the spectres passing in the square.
+    The city turns to ashes, spire by spire;
+    The mountains perish with their peaks afire.
+    The fading city and the falling sky
+    Are swallowed in one doom without a cry.
+
+    It tracks the traveler fleeing with the gale,
+    Fleeing toward home and friends without avail;
+    It springs upon him and he is a ghost,
+    A blurred shape moving on a soundless coast.
+    God! it pursues my love along the stream,
+    Swirls round her and she is forever dream.
+    What Hate has touched the universe with eld,
+    And left me only in a world dispelled?
+
+
+
+
+From the Hand of a Child
+
+
+    One day a child ran after me in the street,
+    To give me a half-blown rose, a fire-white rose,
+    Its stem all warm yet from the tight-shut hand.
+    The little gift seemed somehow more to me
+    Than all men strive for in the turbid towns,
+    Than all they hoard up through a long wild life.
+    And as I breathed the heart-breath of the flower,
+    The Youth of Earth broke on me like a dawn,
+    And I was with the wide-eyed wondering things,
+    Back in the far forgotten buried time.
+    A lost world came back softly with the rose:
+    I saw a glad host follow with lusty cries
+    Diana flying with her maidens white,
+    Down the long reaches of the laureled hills.
+    Above the sea I saw a wreath of girls,
+    Fading to air in far-off poppy fields.
+    I saw a blithe youth take the open road:
+    His thoughts ran on before him merrily;
+    Sometimes he dipped his feet in stirring brooks;
+    At night he slept upon a bed of boughs.
+
+    This in my soul. Then suddenly a shape,
+    A spectre wearing yet the mask of dust
+    Jostled against me as he passed, and lo!
+    The jarring city and the drift of feet
+    Surged back upon me like the grieving sea.
+
+
+
+
+At the Meeting of Seven Valleys
+
+
+    At the meeting of seven valleys in the west,
+    I came upon a host of silent souls,
+    Seated beside still waters on the grass.
+    It was a place of memories and tears--
+    Terrible tears. I rested in a wood,
+    And there the bird that mourns for Itys sang--
+    Itys that touched the tears of all the world.
+    But climbing onward toward the purple peaks,
+    I passed, on silent feet, white multitudes,
+    Beyond the reach of peering memories,
+    Lying asleep upon the scented banks,
+    Their bodies burning with celestial fire.
+    A mighty awe came on me at the thought--
+    The strangeness of the beatific sleep,
+    The vision of God, the mystic bread of rest.
+
+
+
+
+The Rock-Breaker
+
+
+    Pausing he leans upon his sledge, and looks--
+      A labor-blasted toiler;
+    So have I seen, on Shasta’s top, a pine
+      Stand silent on a cliff,
+    Stript of its glory of green leaves and boughs,
+      Its great trunk split by fire,
+    Its gray bark blackened by the thunder-smoke,
+      Its life a sacrifice
+    To some blind purpose of the destinies.
+
+
+
+
+These Songs Will Perish
+
+
+    These songs will perish like the shapes of air--
+    The singer and the songs die out forever;
+    But star-eyed Truth (greater than song or singer)
+    Sweeps hurrying on: far off she sees a gleam
+    Upon a peak. She cried to man of old
+    To build the enduring, glad Fraternal State--
+    Cries yet through all the ruins of the world--
+    Through Karnack, through the stones of Babylon--
+    Cries for a moment through these fading songs.
+
+    On wingèd feet, a form of fadeless youth,
+    She goes to meet the coming centuries,
+    And, hurrying, snatches up some human reed,
+    Blows through it once her terror-bearing note,
+    And breaks and throws away. It is enough
+    If we can be a bugle at her lips,
+    To scatter her contagion on mankind.
+
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[A] This song should be read in the light of the deep and comforting
+truth that the Divine Feminine as well as the Divine Masculine
+Principle is in God--that he is Father-Mother, Two-in-One. It follows
+from this truth that the dignity of womanhood is grounded in the Divine
+Nature itself. The fact that the Deity is Man-Woman was known to the
+ancient poets and sages, and was grafted into the nobler religions of
+mankind. The idea is implied in the doctrine of the Divine Father,
+taught by our Lord in the Gospels; and it is declared in the first
+chapter of Genesis in the words: “God said, ‘Let Us make men in Our
+image, after Our likeness.’ ... So God created man in His own image, in
+the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.”
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67012 ***
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-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The man with the hoe, and other poems, by Edwin Markham</div>

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-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The man with the hoe, and other poems</p>

-

-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edwin Markham</div>

-

-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 25, 2021 [eBook #67012]</div>

-

-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>

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-

-<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images available at The Internet Archive)</div>

-

-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH THE HOE, AND OTHER POEMS ***</div>

-<hr class="full" />

-

-<div class="c">

-<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="" />

-</div>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span></p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<p class="c">The Man with the Hoe<br />

-<br /><br />

-TO<br />

-<br />

-EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN<br />

-<br />

-<small>FIRST TO HAIL AND CAUTION ME<br /></small>

-</p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<h1>

-The Man with the Hoe</h1>

-

-<p class="cb">AND OTHER POEMS<br />

-<br />

-<i><small>By</small></i><br />

-EDWIN MARKHAM<br />

-<br />

-<img src="images/colophon.jpg"

-width="115"

-alt="" />

-<br />

-<br />

-NEW YORK<br />

-DOUBLEDAY &amp; McCLURE COMPANY<br />

-1899<br />

-</p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<h2><a name="PREFATORY_NOTE" id="PREFATORY_NOTE"></a>Prefatory Note</h2>

-

-<p>Many of these poems have appeared in <i>Scribner’s</i>, <i>The Century</i>, <i>The

-Atlantic</i>, and the San Francisco <i>Examiner</i>, and my thanks are due them

-for permission to republish.</p>

-

-<p class="r">

-<span class="smcap">Edwin Markham.</span><br />

-</p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<p><span class="smcap">Oakland, California.</span></p>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_CONTENTS" id="THE_CONTENTS"></a>The Contents</h2>

-

-<table cellpadding="2">

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE">The Man with the Hoe</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF">A Look into the Gulf</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BROTHERHOOD">Brotherhood</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_21">21</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN">Song of the Followers of Pan</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND">Little Brothers of the Ground</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD">Wail of the Wandering Dead</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_PRAYER">A Prayer</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_POET">The Poet</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD">The Whirlwind Road</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS">The Desire of Nations</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_33">33</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_ELF_CHILD">The Elf Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_39">39</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH">The Goblin Laugh</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#POETRY">Poetry</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_MEETING">A Meeting</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#INFINITE_DEPTHS">Infinite Depths</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK">A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_PAYMASTER">The Paymaster</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_46">46</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LAST_FURROW">The Last Furrow</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_THE_STORM">In the Storm</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE">After Reading Shakspere</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY">The Hidden Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_POETS">The Poets</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LOVES_VIGIL">Love’s Vigil</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE">Two at a Fireside</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_BUTTERFLY">The Butterfly</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_WILLIAM_WATSON">To William Watson</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#KEATS_A-DYING">Keats A-Dying</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MAN">Man</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_CRICKET">The Cricket</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_HIGH_SIERRAS">In High Sierras</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_62">62</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS">The Wharf of Dreams</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_LOUISE_MICHEL">To Louise Michel</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID">Shepherd Boy and Nereid</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SONG_AT_THE_START">A Song at the Start</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_68">68</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MY_COMRADE">My Comrade</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN">A Lyric of the Dawn</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_71">71</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JOY_OF_THE_MORNING">Joy of the Morning</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_80">80</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#YOUTH_AND_TIME">Youth and Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SATYR_SONG">A Satyr Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT">A Cry in the Night</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FAYS">Fays</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_85">85</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_DEATH_VALLEY">In Death Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AT_DAWN">At Dawn</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FOLLOW_ME">“Follow Me”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_POPPY_FIELDS">In Poppy Fields</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS">The Joy of the Hills</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_90">90</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE">The Invisible Bride</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_VALLEY">The Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_94">94</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE">The Climb of Life</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TRAGEDY">The Tragedy</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_97">97</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DIVINE_VISION">Divine Vision</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_98">98</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MIDSUMMER_NOON">Midsummer Noon</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_99">99</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW">One Life, One Law</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_100">100</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GRIEFS">Griefs</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_101">101</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_OLD_ROAD">An Old Road</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_102">102</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_NEW-COMERS">The New Comers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_103">103</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MUSIC">Music</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_104">104</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FAY_SONG">Fay Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_OLD_EARTH">The Old Earth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DIVINE_ADVENTURE">Divine Adventure</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_MADE_FLESH">Song Made Flesh</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_109">109</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS">To High-born Poets</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_110">110</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TOILERS">The Toilers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_112">112</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT">On the Gulf of Night</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_114">114</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_HARVEST_SONG">A Harvest Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_116">116</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TWO_TAVERNS">Two Taverns</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE">The Man under the Stone</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_119">119</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER">Song to the Divine Mother</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_121">121</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_FLYING_MIST">The Flying Mist</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_127">127</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD">From the Hand of a Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_129">129</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS">At the Meeting of Seven Valleys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_131">131</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_ROCK-BREAKER">The Rock-Breaker</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr>

-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH">These Songs Will Perish</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_133">133</a></td></tr>

-</table>

-

-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span>&#160; </p>

-

-<h1>The Man with the Hoe</h1>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE" id="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE"></a>The Man with the Hoe</h2>

-

-<p class="c"><i>Written after seeing Millet’s World-Famous Painting</i></p>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><small>

-<span class="i0">God made man in His own image,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">in the image of God made He him.&mdash;<i>Genesis.</i><br /></span>

-</small></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The emptiness of ages in his face,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And on his back the burden of the world.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Who made him dead to rapture and despair,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To have dominion over sea and land;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To feel the passion of Eternity?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And pillared the blue firmament with light?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">There is no shape more terrible than this&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">More filled with signs and portents for the soul&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">More fraught with menace to the universe.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">What gulfs between him and the seraphim!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">What the long reaches of the peaks of song,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Plundered, profaned and disinherited,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Cries protest to the Judges of the World,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A protest that is also prophecy.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Is this the handiwork you give to God,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How will you ever straighten up this shape;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Touch it again with immortality;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Give back the upward looking and the light;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Rebuild in it the music and the dream;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Make right the immemorial infamies,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How will the Future reckon with this Man?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How answer his brute question in that hour<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How will it be with kingdoms and with kings&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With those who shaped him to the thing he is&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When this dumb Terror shall reply to God,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">After the silence of the centuries?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF" id="A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF"></a>A Look into the Gulf</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I looked one night, and there Semiramis,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With all her mourning doves about her head,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Snatches of song they sang to her of old<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">“The bugles! they are crying back again&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And then went crying on through Nineveh.<br /></span>

-<span class="ipnts">. . . . . . .<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Assyria goes by upon the wind!”<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And so she babbles by the ancient road,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">While cities turned to dust upon the Earth<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Rise through her whirling brain to live again&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Her weary lips beat on without a sound.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="BROTHERHOOD" id="BROTHERHOOD"></a>Brotherhood</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i2">The crest and crowning of all good,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Life’s final star, is Brotherhood;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">For it will bring again to Earth<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Will send new light on every face,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">A kingly power upon the race.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And till it come, we men are slaves,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And travel downward to the dust of graves.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i2">Come, clear the way, then, clear the way:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Blind creeds and kings have had their day.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Break the dead branches from the path:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Our hope is in the aftermath&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Our hope is in heroic men,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Star-led to build the world again.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">To this Event the ages ran:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Make way for Brotherhood&mdash;make way for Man.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN" id="SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN"></a>Song of the Followers of Pan</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Our bursting bugles blow apart<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The gates of cities as we go;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">We bring the music of the heart<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">From secret wells in Lillimo’.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">We break in music on the morns&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Sing of the flower to stirring roots;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Apollo’s cry is in the horns,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And Hermes’ whisper in the flutes.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">We come with laughter to the Earth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And lightly stir the heading wheat:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Our God is Poesy and Mirth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And loves the noise of woodland feet.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">When dancers beat the air to sound,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">After the time of yellow sheaves,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He stops to watch the merry round,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">His pleased face looking through the leaves.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND" id="LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND"></a>Little Brothers of the Ground</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Little ants in leafy wood,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Bound by gentle Brotherhood,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">While ye gaily gather spoil,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Men are ground by the wheel of toil;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">While ye follow Blessed Fates,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Men are shriveled up with hates;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Or they lie with sheeted Lust,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And they eat the bitter dust.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Ye are fraters in your hall,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Gay and chainless, great and small;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All are toilers in the field,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All are sharers in the yield.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But we mortals plot and plan<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How to grind the fellow-man;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Glad to find him in a pit,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">If we get some gain of it.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">So with us, the sons of Time,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Labor is a kind of crime,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">For the toilers have the least,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">While the idlers lord the feast.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yes, our workers they are bound,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Pallid captives to the ground;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Jeered by traitors, fooled by knaves,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Till they stumble into graves.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">How appears to tiny eyes<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All this wisdom of the wise?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD" id="WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD"></a>Wail of the Wandering Dead</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Death, too, is a chimera and betrays,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And yet they promised we should enter rest;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Death is as empty as the cup of days,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And bitter milk is in her wintry breast.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There is no worth in any world to come,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Nor any in the world we left behind;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And what remains of all our masterdom?&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Only a cry out of the crumbling mind.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">We played all comers at the old Gray Inn,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">But played the King of Players to our cost.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">We played Him fair and had no chance to win:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The dice of God were loaded and we lost.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">We wander, wander, and the nights come down<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">With starless darkness and the rush of rains;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">We drift as phantoms by the songless town,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">We drift as litter on the windy lanes.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Hope is the fading vision of the heart,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">A mocking spirit throwing up wild hands.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">She led us on with music at the start,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">To leave us at dead fountains in the sands.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Now all our days are but a cry for sleep,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">For we are weary of the petty strife.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Is there not somewhere in the endless deep<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">A place where we can lose the feel of life?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Where we can be as senseless as the dust<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The night wind blows about a dried-up well?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Where there is no more labor, no more lust,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Nor any flesh to feel the Tooth of Hell?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Our feet are ever sliding, and we seem<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">As old and weary as the pyramids.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come, God of Ages, and dispel the dream,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Fold the worn hands and close the sinking lids.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There is no new road for the dead to take:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Wild hearts are we among the worlds astray&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Wild hearts are we that cannot wholly break,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">But linger on though life has gone away.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">We are the sons of Misery and Eld:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Come, tender Death, with all your hushing wings,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And let our broken spirits be dispelled&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Let dead men sink into the dusk of things.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_PRAYER" id="A_PRAYER"></a>A Prayer</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to go<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Softly as the grasses grow;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Hush my soul to meet the shock<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of the wild world as a rock;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But my spirit, propt with power,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Make as simple as a flower.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Let the dry heart fill its cup,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking up;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Let life lightly wear her crown,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking down,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When its heart is filled with dew,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And its life begins anew.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to be<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Kind and patient as a tree.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Joyfully the crickets croon<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Under shady oak at noon;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Beetle, on his mission bent,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Tarries in that cooling tent.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Let me, also, cheer a spot,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Hidden field or garden grot&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Place where passing souls can rest<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">On the way and be their best.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_POET" id="THE_POET"></a>The Poet</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">His home is in the heights: to him<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Men wage a battle weird and dim,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Life is a mission stern as fate,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And Song a dread apostolate.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The toils of prophecy are his,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To hail the coming centuries&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To ease the steps and lift the load<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of souls that falter on the road.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The perilous music that he hears<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Falls from the vortice of the spheres.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">He presses on before the race,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And sings out of a silent place.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like faint notes of a forest bird<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">On heights afar that voice is heard;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And the dim path he breaks to-day<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Will some time be a trodden way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But when the race comes toiling on<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That voice of wonder will be gone&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Be heard on higher peaks afar,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Moved upward with the morning star.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">O men of earth, that wandering voice<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Still goes the upward way: rejoice!<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD" id="THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD"></a>The Whirlwind Road</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The Muses wrapped in mysteries of light<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Came in a rush of music on the night;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And I was lifted wildly on quick wings,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And borne away into the deep of things.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The dead doors of my being broke apart;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A wind of rapture blew across the heart;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The inward song of worlds rang still and clear;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I felt the Mystery the Muses fear;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yet they went swiftening on the ways untrod,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And hurled me breathless at the feet of God.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I felt faint touches of the Final Truth&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Moments of trembling love, moments of youth.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A vision swept away the human wall;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Slowly I saw the meaning of it all&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Meaning of life and time and death and birth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But can not tell it to the men of Earth.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I only point the way, and they must go<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The whirlwind road of song if they would know.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS" id="THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS"></a>The Desire of Nations</h2>

-

-<div class="blockquot"><p>And the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall

-be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The ever-lasting

-Father, The Prince of Peace.&mdash;<i>Isaiah.</i></p></div>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Earth will go back to her lost youth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And life grow deep and wonderful as truth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When the wise King out of the nearing heaven comes<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To break the spell of long millenniums&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To build with song again<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The broken hope of men&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To hush and heroize the world,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Beneath the flag of Brotherhood unfurled.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And He will come some day:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Already is His star upon the way!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He comes, O world, He comes!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But not with bugle-cry nor roll of doubling drums.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Nay, for He comes to loosen and unbind,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To build the lofty purpose in the mind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To stir the heart’s deep chord....<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">No rude horns parleying, no shock of shields;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nor as of old the glory of the Lord<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To half-awakened shepherds in the fields,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Looking with foolish faces on the rush<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of the Great Splendor, when the pulsing hush<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Came o’er the hills, came o’er the heavens afar<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Where on their cliff of stars the watching seraphs are.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Nor as of old when first the Strong One trod,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The Power of sepulchers&mdash;our Risen God!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When on that deathless morning in the dark,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He quit the Garden of the Sepulcher,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Setting the oleander boughs astir,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And pausing at the gate with backward hark.&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nay, nor as when the Hero-King of Heaven<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Came with upbraiding to His faint eleven,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And found the world-way to His bright feet barred,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And hopeless then because men’s hearts were hard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Nor will He come like carnal kings of old,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With pomp of pilfered gold;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nor like the pharisees with pride of prayer;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nor as the stumbling foolish stewards dream<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In tedious argument and fruitless creed,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But in the passion of the heart-warm deed<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Will come the Man Supreme.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yea, for He comes to lift the Public Care&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To build on Earth the Vision hung in air.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">This is the one fulfillment of His Law&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The one Fact in the mockeries that seem.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">This is the Vision that the prophets saw&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The Comrade Kingdom builded in their dream.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">No, not as in that elder day<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Comes now the King upon the human way.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He comes with power: His white unfearing face<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Shines through the Social Passion of the race.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He comes to frame the freedom of the Law,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To touch these men of Earth<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With feeling of life’s oneness and its worth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A feeling of its mystery and awe.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And when He comes into the world gone wrong,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He will rebuild her beauty with a song.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To every heart He will its own dream be:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">One moon has many phantoms in the sea.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Out of the North the norns will cry to men:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">“Balder the Beautiful has come again!”<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The flutes of Greece will whisper from the dead:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">“Apollo has unveiled his sunbright head!”<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The stones of Thebes and Memphis will find voice:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">“Osiris comes: O tribes of Time, rejoice!”<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And social architects who build the State,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Serving the Dream at citadel and gate,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Will hail Him coming through the labor-hum.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And glad quick cries will go from man to man:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">“Lo, He has come, our Christ the Artisan&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The King who loved the lilies, He has come!”<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">He will arrive, our Counselor and Chief.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And with bleak faces lighted up will come<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The earth-worn mothers from their martyrdom,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To tell Him of their grief.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And glad girls caroling from field and town<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Will go to meet Him with the labor-crown,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The new crown woven of the heading wheat.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And men will sit down at His sacred feet;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And He will say&mdash;the King&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">“Come, let us live the poetry we sing!”<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And these, His burning words, will break the ban&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Words that will grow to be,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">On continent, on sea,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The rallying cry of man....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">He comes to make the long injustice right&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Comes to push back the shadow of the night,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The gray Tradition full of flint and flaw&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Comes to wipe out the insults to the soul,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The insults of the Few against the Whole,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The insults they make righteous with a law.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Yea, He will bear the Safety of the State,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">For in his still and rhythmic steps will be<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The power and music of Alcyone,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Who holds the swift heavens in their starry fate.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yea, He will lay on souls the power of peace,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And send on kingdoms torn the sense of Home&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">More than the fire of Joy that burned on Greece,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">More than the light of Law that rose on Rome.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_ELF_CHILD" id="THE_ELF_CHILD"></a>The Elf Child</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I am a child of the reef and the blowing spray,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And all my heart goes wildly to the sea.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I am a changeling: can you follow me<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Through hill and hollow on the wind’s dim way?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yes, at the break of a tempestuous day<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">They bore me to the land through starless storm,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And laid me in the pillow sweetly warm<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And broken by the first one’s little stay.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The elf kings found me on an ocean reef,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A lyric child of mystery and grief.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Then need I tell you why the trembling start&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Why in my song the sound of ocean dwells&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Why the quick gladness when the billow swells,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">As though remembered voices called the heart?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH" id="THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH"></a>The Goblin Laugh</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">When I behold how men and women grind<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And grovel for some place of pomp or power,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">To shine and circle through a crumbling hour,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Forgetting the large mansions of the mind,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That are the rest and shelter of mankind;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And when I see them come with wearied brains<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Pallid and powerless to enjoy their gains,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I seem to hear a goblin laugh unwind.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And then a memory sends upon its billow<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Thoughts of a singer wise enough to play,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Who took life as a lightsome holiday:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Oft have I seen him make his arm a pillow,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Drink from his hand, and with a pipe of willow<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Blow a wild music down a woodland way.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="POETRY" id="POETRY"></a>Poetry</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">She comes as hush and beauty of the night,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And sees too deep for laughter;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Her touch is a vibration and a light<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">From worlds before and after.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_MEETING" id="A_MEETING"></a>A Meeting</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Softly she came one twilight from the dead,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And in the passionate silence of her look<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Was more than man has writ in any book:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And now my thoughts are restless, and a dread<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">For down the leafy ways her white feet took,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Lightly the newly broken roses shook&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">God! was it joy or sorrow in her face&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That quiet face? Had it grown old or young?<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Was it sweet memory or sad that stung<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Her voiceless soul to wander from its place?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">What do the dead find in the Silence&mdash;grace?<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Or endless grief for which there is no tongue?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="INFINITE_DEPTHS" id="INFINITE_DEPTHS"></a>Infinite Depths</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The little pool, in street or field apart,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Glasses deep heavens and the rushing storm;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And into silent depths of every heart,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The Eternal throws its awful shadow-form.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK" id="A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK"></a>A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Beside the sewing-table chained and bent,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rent<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Torn in life’s golden curtains. Glad Youth went,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And left them alone with Time; and now if bowed<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">With burdens they should sob and cry aloud,&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Wondering, the rich would look from their content.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And so this glimmering life at last recedes<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In unknown, endless depths beyond recall;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And what’s the worth of all our ancient creeds,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">If here at the end of ages this is all&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">A white face floating in the whirling ball,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A dead face plashing in the river reeds?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_PAYMASTER" id="THE_PAYMASTER"></a>The Paymaster</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There is a sacred Something on all ways&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Something that watches through the Universe;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">One that remembers, reckons and repays,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Giving us love for love, and curse for curse.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_LAST_FURROW" id="THE_LAST_FURROW"></a>The Last Furrow</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The Spirit of Earth, with still restoring hands,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">’Mid ruin moves, in glimmering chasm gropes,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And mosses mantle and the bright flower opes;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But Death the Ploughman wanders in all lands,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And to the last of Earth his furrow stands.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The grave is never hidden; fearful hopes<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Follow the dead upon the fading slopes,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And there wild memories meet upon the sands.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">When willows fling their banners to the plain,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When rumor of winds and sound of sudden showers<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Disturb the dream of winter&mdash;all in vain<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The grasses hurry to the graves, the flowers<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Toss their wild torches on their windy towers;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yet are the bleak graves lonely in the rain.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="IN_THE_STORM" id="IN_THE_STORM"></a>In the Storm</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I huddled close against the mighty cliff.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A sense of safety and of brotherhood<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Broke on the heart: the shelter of a rock<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE" id="AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE"></a>After Reading Shakspere</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Blithe Fancy lightly builds with airy hands<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Or on the edges of the darkness peers,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Breathless and frightened at the Voice she hears:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Imagination (lo! the sky expands)<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Travels the blue arch and Cimmerian sands,&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Homeless on earth, the pilgrim of the spheres,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The rush of light before the hurrying years,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The Voice that cries in unfamiliar lands.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Men weigh the moons that flood with eerie light<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The dusky vales of Saturn&mdash;wood and stream;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But who shall follow on the awful sweep<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of Neptune through the dim and dreadful deep?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Onward he wanders in the unknown night,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And we are shadows moving in a dream.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY" id="THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY"></a>The Hidden Valley</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I stray with Ariel and Caliban:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I know the hill of windy pines&mdash;I know<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Where the jay’s nest swings in the wild gorge below:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Lightly I climb where fallen cedars span<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Bright rivers&mdash;climb to a valley under ban,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Where west winds set a thousand bells ablow&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">An eerie valley where in the morning glow<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I hear the music of the pipes of Pan.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Mysterious horns blow by on the still air&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">A satyr steps&mdash;a wood-god’s dewy notes<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Come faintly from a vale of tossing oats.&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But ho! what white thing in the canyon crossed?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Gods! I shall come on Dian unaware,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Look on her fearful beauty and be lost.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_POETS" id="THE_POETS"></a>The Poets</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Some cry of Sappho’s lyre, of Saadi’s flute,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Comes back across the waste of mortal things:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Men strive and die to reach the Dead Sea fruit&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Only the poets find immortal springs.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="LOVES_VIGIL" id="LOVES_VIGIL"></a>Love’s Vigil</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Love will outwatch the stars, and light the skies<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When the last star falls, and the silent dark devours;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">God’s warrior, he will watch the allotted hours,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And conquer with the look of his sad eyes:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He shakes the kingdom of darkness with his sighs,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">His quiet sighs, while all the Infernal Powers<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Tremble and pale upon their central towers,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Lest, haply, his bright universe arise.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">All will be well if he have strength to wait,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Till his lost Pleiad, white and silver-shod,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Regains her place to make the perfect Seven;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Then all the worlds will know that Love is Fate&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That somehow he is greater even than Heaven&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That in the Cosmic Council he is God.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE" id="TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE"></a>Two at a Fireside</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I built a chimney for a comrade old,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I did the service not for hope or hire&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And then I traveled on in winter’s cold,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_BUTTERFLY" id="THE_BUTTERFLY"></a>The Butterfly</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">O wingèd brother on the harebell, stay&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Was God’s hand very pitiful, the hand<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That wrought thy beauty at a dream’s demand?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0"><i>Yea, knowing I love so well the flowery way,</i><br /></span>

-<span class="i0"><i>He did not fling me to the world astray&mdash;</i><br /></span>

-<span class="i2"><i>He did not drop me to the weary sand,</i><br /></span>

-<span class="i2"><i>But bore me gently to a leafy land:</i><br /></span>

-<span class="i0"><i>Tinting my wings, He gave me to the day.</i><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Oh, chide no more my doubting, my despair!<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I will go back now to the world of men.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Farewell, I leave thee to the world of air,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Yet thou hast girded up my heart again;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">For He that framed the impenetrable plan,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And keeps His word with thee, will keep with man.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="TO_WILLIAM_WATSON" id="TO_WILLIAM_WATSON"></a>To William Watson</h2>

-

-<p class="c"><i>After reading “The Purple East.”</i></p>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">That hour you put the wreath of England by<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">To shake her guilty heart with song sublime,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The mighty Muse that watches from the sky<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Laid on your head the larger wreath of Time.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="KEATS_A-DYING" id="KEATS_A-DYING"></a>Keats A-Dying</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Often of that Last Hour I lie and think;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I see thee, Keats, nearing the Deathway dim&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">See Severn in his noiseless hurry, him<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Who leaned above thee fading on the brink.<br /></span>

-<span class="ipnts">. . . . . . .<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">What is that wild light through the window chink?<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Is it the burning feet of cherubim?<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Or is it the white moon on western rim&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Saint Agnes’ moon beginning now to sink?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">How did Death come&mdash;with sounds of water-stir?<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">With forms of beauty breaking at the lips?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With field pipes and the scent of blowing fir?<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Or came it hurrying like a last eclipse,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Sweeping the world away like gossamer,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Blotting the moon, the mountains, and the ships?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="MAN" id="MAN"></a>Man</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Out of the deep and endless universe<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">There came a greater Mystery, a Shape,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A Something sad, inscrutable, august&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">One to confront the worlds and question them.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_CRICKET" id="THE_CRICKET"></a>The Cricket</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The twilight is the morning of his day,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">While sleep drops seaward from the fading shore,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">With purpling sail and dip of silver oar,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He cheers the shadowed time with roun-delay,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Until the dark east softens into gray.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Now as the noisy hours are coming&mdash;hark!<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">His song dies gently&mdash;it is growing dark&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">His night, with its one star, is on its way!<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Faintly the light breaks o’er the blowing oats&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Sleep, little brother, sleep: I am astir,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">We worship Song, and servants are of her&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I in the bright hours, thou in shadow-time;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Lead thou the starlit night with merry notes,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And I will lead the clamoring day with rhyme.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="IN_HIGH_SIERRAS" id="IN_HIGH_SIERRAS"></a>In High Sierras</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There at a certain hour of the deep night,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A gray cliff with a demon face comes up,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Wrinkled and old, behind the peaks, and with<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">An anxious look peers at the Zodiac.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS" id="THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS"></a>The Wharf of Dreams</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Strange wares are handled on the wharves of sleep:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Shadows of shadows pass, and many a light<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Flashes a signal fire across the night;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Barges depart whose voiceless steersmen keep<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Their way without a star upon the deep;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And from lost ships, homing with ghostly crews,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Come cries of incommunicable news,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">While cargoes pile the piers, a moon-white heap&mdash;<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Budgets of dream-dust, merchandise of song,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Fardels of heartache, burdens of old sins,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Luggage sent down from dim ancestral inns,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And bales of fantasy from No-Man’s Land.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="TO_LOUISE_MICHEL" id="TO_LOUISE_MICHEL"></a>To Louise Michel</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I cannot take your road, Louise Michel,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Priestess of Pity and of Vengeance&mdash;no:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Down that amorphous gulf I cannot go&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That gulf of Anarchy whose pit is Hell.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yet, sister, though my first word is farewell,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Remember that I know your hidden woe;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Have felt the grief that rends you blow on blow;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Have knelt beside you in the murky cell.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">You never followed hate (let this atone)<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nor knew the wrongs of others from your own:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Wild was the road, but Love has always led,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">So I am silent where I cannot praise;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And here now at the parting of the ways,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I lay a still hand lightly on your head.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID" id="SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID"></a>Shepherd Boy and Nereid</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Ah, once of old in some forgotten tongue,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Forgotten land, I was a shepherd boy,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And you a Nereid, a wingèd joy:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">On through the dawn-bright peaks our bodies swung<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And flower-soft lyrics by immortals sung<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Fell from their unseen pinnacles in air:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">God looked from Heaven that hour, for you were fair,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And I a poet, and the star was young.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">You’d heard my woodland pipe and left the sea&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Your hair blown gold and all your body white&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Had left the ocean-girls to follow me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i2">We joined the hill-nymphs in their joyous flight,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And you laughed lightly to the sea, and sent<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Quick glances flashing through me as I went.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_SONG_AT_THE_START" id="A_SONG_AT_THE_START"></a>A Song at the Start</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Oh, down the quick river our galley is going,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">With a sound in the cordage, a beam on the sail:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The wind of the canyon our loose hair is blowing,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And the clouds of the morning are glad of the gale.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Around the swift prow little billows are breaking,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And flinging their foam in a glory of light;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now the shade of a rock on the river is shaking,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And a wave leaps high up growing suddenly white.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The weight of the whole world is light as a feather,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And the peaks rise in silence and westerly flee:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Oh, the world and the poet are singing together,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And from the far cliff comes a sound of the sea.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="MY_COMRADE" id="MY_COMRADE"></a>My Comrade</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I never build a song by night or day,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But in some wondrous unexpected way,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Like light upon a road, my Love comes in.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And when I go at night upon the hill,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">My heart is lifted on mysterious wings:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">My Love is there to strengthen and to still,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">For she can take away the dread of things.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN" id="A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN"></a>A Lyric of the Dawn</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i6">Alone I list<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In the leafy tryst;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Silent the woodlands in their starry sleep&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Silent the phantom wood in waters deep:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">No footfall of a wind along the pass<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Startles a harebell&mdash;stirs a blade of grass.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Yonder the wandering weeds,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Enchanted in the light,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Stand in the gusty hollows, still and white;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Yonder are plumy reeds,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Dusking the border of the clear lagoon;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Far off the silver clifts<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Hang in ethereal light below the moon;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Far off the ocean lifts,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Tossing its billows in the misty beam,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And shore-lines whiten, silent as a dream:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I hark for the bird, and all the hushed hills harken:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">This is the valley: here the branches darken<br /></span>

-<span class="i6">The silver-lighted stream.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i6">Hark&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That rapture in the leafy dark!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Who is it shouts upon the bough aswing,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Waking the upland and the valley under?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">What carols, like the blazon of a king,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Fill all the dawn with wonder?<br /></span>

-<span class="i6">Oh, hush,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">It is the thrush,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In the deep and woody glen!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Ah, thus the gladness of the gods was sung,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When the old Earth was young;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That rapture rang,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When the first morning on the mountains sprang:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And now he shouts, and the world is young again!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i6">Carol, my king,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">On your bough aswing<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Thou art not of these evil days&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Thou art a voice of the world’s lost youth:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Oh, tell me what is duty&mdash;what is truth&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How to find God upon these hungry ways;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Tell of the golden prime,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When men beheld swift deities descend,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Before the race was left alone with Time,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Homesick on Earth, and homeless to the end,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When bird and beast could make a man their friend;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Before great Pan was dead,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Before the naiads fled;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When maidens white with dark eyes shy and bold,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With peals of laughter on the peaks of gold,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Startled the still dawn&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Shone in upon the mountains and were gone,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Their voices fading silverly in depths of forests old.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Sing of the wonders of their woodland ways,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Before the weird earth-hunger of these days,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When there was rippling mirth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When justice was on Earth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And light and grandeur of the Golden Age;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When never a heart was sad,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When all from king to herdsman had<br /></span>

-<span class="i4">A penny for a wage.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Ah, that old time has faded to a dream&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The moon’s fair face is broken in the stream;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yet shout and carol on, O bird, and let<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The exiled race not utterly forget;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Publish thy revelation on the lawns&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Sing ever in the dark ethereal dawns;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Sometime, in some sweet year,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">These stormy souls, these men of Earth may hear.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i6">But hark again,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">From the secret glen,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That voice of rapture and ethereal youth<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Now laden with despair.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Forbear, O bird, forbear:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Is life not terrible enough forsooth?<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Cease, cease the mystic song<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span>&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">No more, no more, the passion and the pain:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It wakes my life to fret against the chain;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It makes me think of all the agèd wrong&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of joy and the end of joy and the end of all&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of souls on Earth, and souls beyond recall.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Ah, ah, that voice again!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It makes me think of all these restless men,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Called into time&mdash;their progress and their goal;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And now, oh now, it sends into my soul<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Dreams of a love that might have been for me&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That might have been&mdash;and now can never be.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i2">Tell me no more of these&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Tell me of trancèd trees;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">(The ghosts, the memories, in pity spare)<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Show me the leafy home of the wild bees;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Show me the snowy summits dim in air;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Tell me of things afar<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In valleys silent under moon and star:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Dim hollows hushed with night,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The lofty cedars misty in the light,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Wild clusters of the vine,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Wild odors of the pine,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The eagle’s eyrie lifted to the moon&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">High places where on quiet afternoon<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A shadow swiftens by, a thrilling scream<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Startles the cliff, and dies across the woodland to a dream.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i6">Ha, now<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">He springs from the bough,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">It flickers&mdash;he is lost!<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Out of the copse he sprang;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">This is the floating briar where he tossed:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The leaves are yet atremble where he sang.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Here a long vista opens&mdash;look!<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">This is the way he took,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Through the pale poplars by the pond:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Hark! he is shouting in the field beyond.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Ho, there he goes<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Through the alder close!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He leaves me here behind him in his flight,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And yet my heart goes with him out of sight!<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">What whispered spell<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of Faëry calls me on from dell to dell?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I hear the voice&mdash;it wanders in a dream&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now in the grove, now on the hill, now on the fading stream.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i2">Lead on&mdash;you know the way&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i6">Lead on to Arcady,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">O’er fields asleep; by river bank abrim;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Down leafy ways, dewy and cool and dim;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">By dripping rocks, dark dwellings of the gnome,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Where hurrying waters dash their crests to foam.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I follow where you lead,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Down winding paths, across the flowery mead,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Down silent hollows where the woodbine blows,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Up water-courses scented by the rose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I follow the wandering voice&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I follow, I rejoice,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I fade away into the Age of Gold&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">We two together lost in forest old.&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">O ferny and thymy paths, O fields of Aidenn,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Canyons and cliffs by mortal feet untrod!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">O souls that weary and are heavy laden,<br /></span>

-<span class="i6">Here is the peace of God!<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Lo! now the clamoring hours are on the way:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Faintly the pine tops redden in the ray;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">From vale to vale fleet-footed rumors run,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With sudden apprehension of the sun;<br /></span>

-<span class="i4">A light wind stirs<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The filmy tops of delicate dim firs,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And on the river border blows,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Breaking the shy bud softly to a rose.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Sing out, O throstle, sing:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I follow on, my king:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Lead me forever through the crimson dawn&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Till the world ends, lead me on!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Ho there! he shouts again&mdash;he sways&mdash;and now,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Upspringing from the bough,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Flashing a glint of dew upon the ground,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Without a sound<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He drops into a valley and is gone!<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="JOY_OF_THE_MORNING" id="JOY_OF_THE_MORNING"></a>Joy of the Morning</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I hear you, little bird,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Shouting aswing above the broken wall.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Sing to my soul in the deep still wood:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">’Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I’d tell it, too, if I could.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Oft when the white, still dawn<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">(The world’s mysterious stir)<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But had no throat like yours, my bird,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nor such a listener.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="YOUTH_AND_TIME" id="YOUTH_AND_TIME"></a>Youth and Time</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Once, I remember, the world was young;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The rills rejoiced with a silver tongue;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The field-lark sat in the wheat and sang;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The thrush’s shout in the woodland rang;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The cliffs and the perilous sands afar<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Were softened to mist by the morning star;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">For Youth was with me (I know it now!),<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And a light shone out from his wreathèd brow.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He turned the fields to enchanted ground,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He touched the rains with a dreamy sound.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">But alas, he vanished, and Time appeared,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The Spirit of Ages, old and weird.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He crushed and scattered my beamy wings;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He dragged me forth from the court of kings;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He gave me doubt and a bloom of beard,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">This Spirit of Ages, old and weird.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The wonder went from the field of corn,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The glory died on the craggy horn;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And suddenly all was strange and gray,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And the rocks came out on the trodden way.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I hear no more the wild thrush sing:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He is silent now on the peach aswing.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Something is gone from the house of mirth&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Something is gone from the hills of Earth.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Time hurries me on with a wizard hand;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He turns the Earth to a homeless land;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He stays my life with a stingy breath,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And darkens its depths with foreknowledge of death;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Calls memories back on their path apace;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Sends desperate thoughts to the soul’s dim place.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And pushes us on to the windowless inn.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_SATYR_SONG" id="A_SATYR_SONG"></a>A Satyr Song</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I know by the stir of the branches<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The way she went;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And at times I can see where a stem<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Of the grass is bent.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">She’s the secret and light of my life,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">She allures to elude;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But I follow the spell of her beauty<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Whatever the mood.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I have followed all night in the hills,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And my breath is deep,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But she flies on before like a voice<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In the vale of sleep.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I follow the print of her feet<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In the wild river bed,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And lo, she calls gleefully down<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">From a cliff overhead.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT" id="A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT"></a>A Cry in the Night</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Wail, wail, wail,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">For the fleering world goes down:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Into the song of the poet pale<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Mixes the laugh of the clown.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Grim, grim, grim,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Is the road we go to the dead;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yet we must on, for a Something dim<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Pushes the soul ahead.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Where, where, where,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Through the dust and shadow of things<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Will the fleeing Fates with their wild manes bear<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">These tribes of slaves and kings?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="FAYS" id="FAYS"></a>Fays</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">One secret night, I stood where ocean pours<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Eternal waters on the yellow shores,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And saw the drift of fays that Prosper saw:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">(Their feet had no more sound than blowing straw.)<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And little hands held light in little hands<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They chased a fleeing billow down the sands,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But turned in the nick o’ time, and mad with glee<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Raced back again before the swelling sea.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="IN_DEATH_VALLEY" id="IN_DEATH_VALLEY"></a>In Death Valley</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Around were heaps of ruins piled between<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">One pillar rose up dark against the moon.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">There was a nameless Presence everywhere;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In the gray soil there was a purple stain,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It was the mark of some ancestral grief&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Grief that began before the ancient Flood.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="AT_DAWN" id="AT_DAWN"></a>At Dawn</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Just then the branches lightly stirred....<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">See, out o’ the apple boughs a bird<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Bursts music-mad into the blue abyss:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Rothschild would give his gold for this&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The wealth of nations, if he knew:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">(And find a profit in the business, too.)<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="FOLLOW_ME" id="FOLLOW_ME"></a>“Follow Me”</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">O friend, we never choose the better part,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Until we set the Cross up in the heart.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I know I can not live until I die&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Till I am nailed upon it wild and high,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And sleep in the tomb for a full three days dead,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With angels at the feet and at the head.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But then in a great brightness I shall rise<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To walk with stiller feet below the skies.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="IN_POPPY_FIELDS" id="IN_POPPY_FIELDS"></a>In Poppy Fields</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Here the poppy hosts assemble:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How they startle, how they tremble!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All their royal hoods unpinned<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Blow out lightly in the wind.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Here is gold to labor for;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Here is pillage worth a war.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Men that in the cities grind,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come! before the heart is blind.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS" id="THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS"></a>The Joy of the Hills</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I ride on the mountain tops, I ride;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I have found my life and am satisfied.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Onward I ride in the blowing oats,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Checking the field-lark’s rippling notes&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Lightly I sweep<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">From steep to steep:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Over my head through the branches high<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come glimpses of a rushing sky;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The tall oats brush my horse’s flanks;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A bee booms out of the scented grass;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A jay laughs with me as I pass.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Life’s hoard of regret&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">All the terror and pain<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Of the chafing chain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i2">Grind on, O cities, grind:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I leave you a blur behind.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I am lifted elate&mdash;the skies expand:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Here the world’s heaped gold is a pile of sand.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Let them weary and work in their narrow walls:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I ride with the voices of waterfalls!<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I swing on as one in a dream&mdash;I swing<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Down the airy hollows, I shout, I sing!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The world is gone like an empty word:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">My body’s a bough in the wind, my heart a bird!<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE" id="THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE"></a>The Invisible Bride</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The low-voiced girls that go<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In gardens of the Lord,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like flowers of the field they grow<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In sisterly accord.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Their whispering feet are white<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Along the leafy ways;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They go in whirls of light<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Too beautiful for praise.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And in their band forsooth<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Is one to set me free&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The one that touched my youth&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The one God gave to me.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">She kindles the desire<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Whereby the gods survive&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The white ideal fire<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That keeps my soul alive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Now at the wondrous hour,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">She leaves her star supreme,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And comes in the night’s still power,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">To touch me with a dream.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Sibyl of mystery<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">On roads beyond our ken,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Softly she comes to me,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And goes to God again.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_VALLEY" id="THE_VALLEY"></a>The Valley</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I know a valley in the summer hills,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Haunted by little winds and daffodils;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Faint footfalls and soft shadows pass at noon;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Noiseless, at night, the clouds assemble there;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And ghostly summits hang below the moon&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Dim visions lightly swung in silent air.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE" id="THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE"></a>The Climb of Life</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There’s a feel of all things flowing,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And no power of Earth can bind them;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">There’s a sense of all things growing,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And through all their forms a-glowing<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Of the shaping souls behind them.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And the break of beauty heightens<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">With the swiftening of the motion,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And the soul behind it lightens,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">As a gleam of splendor whitens<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">From a running wave of ocean.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">See the still hand of the Shaper,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Moving in the dusk of being:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Burns at first a misty taper,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like the moon in veil of vapor,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When the rack of night is fleeing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">In the stone a dream is sleeping,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Just a tinge of life, a tremor;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In the tree a soul is creeping&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Last, a rush of angels sweeping<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">With the skies beyond the dreamer.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">So the Lord of Life is flinging<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Out a splendor that conceals Him:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And the God is softly singing<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And on secret ways is winging,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Till the rush of song reveals Him.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_TRAGEDY" id="THE_TRAGEDY"></a>The Tragedy</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Oh, the fret of the brain,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And the wounds and the worry;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Oh, the thought of love and the thought of death&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And the soul in its silent hurry.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">But the stars break above,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And the fields flower under;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And the tragical life of man goes on,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Surrounded by beauty and wonder.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="DIVINE_VISION" id="DIVINE_VISION"></a>Divine Vision</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Can it be the Master knows<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How the Cosmic Blossom blows?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Yes, at times the Lord of Light<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Breaks forth wonderful and white,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And He strikes a corded lyre<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In a rush of whirlwind fire;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And He sees before Him pass<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Souls and planets in a glass;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And within the music hears<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All the motions of all spheres,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All the whispers of all feet,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Cries of triumph and retreat,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Songs of systems and of souls,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Circling to their mighty goals.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">So the Lord of Light beholds<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How the Cosmic Flower unfolds.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="MIDSUMMER_NOON" id="MIDSUMMER_NOON"></a>Midsummer Noon</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Yonder a workman, under the cool bridge,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Resting at mid-day, watches the glancing midge,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">While twinkling lights and murmurs of the stream<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Pass into the dim fabric of his dream.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The misty hollows and the drowsy ridge&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How like an airy fantasy they seem.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW" id="ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW"></a>One Life, One Law</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">What do we know&mdash;what need we know<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of the great world to which we go?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">We peer into the tomb, and hark:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Its walls are dim, its doors are dark.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Be still, O mourning heart, nor seek<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To make the tongueless silence speak:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Be still, be strong, nor wish to find<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Their way who leave the world behind&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Voices and forms forever gone<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Into the darkness of the dawn.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">What is their wisdom, clear and deep?&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That as men sow they surely reap,&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That every thought, that every deed,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Is sown into the soul for seed.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They have no word we do not know,&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nor yet the cherubim aglow<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With God: we know that virtue saves,&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They know no more beyond the graves.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="GRIEFS" id="GRIEFS"></a>Griefs</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The rains of winter scourged the weald,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">For days they darkened on the field:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now, where the wings of winter beat,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The poppies ripple in the wheat.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And pitiless griefs came thick and fast&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Life’s bough was naked in the blast&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Till silently amid the gloom<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They blew the wintry heart to bloom.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="AN_OLD_ROAD" id="AN_OLD_ROAD"></a>An Old Road</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">A host of poppies, a flight of swallows;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A flurry of rain, and a wind that follows<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Shepherds the leaves in the sheltered hollows,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">For the forest is shaken and thinned.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Over my head are the firs for rafter;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The crows blow south, and my heart goes after;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I kiss my hands to the world with laughter&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Is it Aidenn or mystical Ind?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Oh, the whirl of the fields in the windy weather!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">How the barley breaks and blows together!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Oh, glad is the free bird afloat on the heather&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Oh, the whole world is glad of the wind!<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_NEW-COMERS" id="THE_NEW-COMERS"></a>The New-Comers</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Two swallows&mdash;each preening a long glossy feather;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now they gossip and dart through the silvery weather;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Oh, praise to the Highest&mdash;two lovers together&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Free, free in the fathomless world of air.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">No fate to oppose and no fortune to sunder;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Blue sky overhead&mdash;green sky breaking under;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And their home on the cliff in the midst of the wonder,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Hung high beyond fear on the gray granite stair.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="MUSIC" id="MUSIC"></a>Music</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">It is the last appeal to man&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Voice crying since the world began;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The cry of the Ideal&mdash;cry<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To aspirations that would die.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The last appeal! in it is heard<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The pathos of the final word.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Voice tender and heroical&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Imperious voice that knoweth well<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To wreck the reasonings of years,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To strengthen rebel hearts with tears.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="FAY_SONG" id="FAY_SONG"></a>Fay Song</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">My life is a dream&mdash;a dream<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In the moon’s cool beam;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Some day I shall wake and desire<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A touch of the infinite fire.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But now ’tis enough that I be<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In the light of the sea;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Enough that I climb with the cloud<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When the winds of the morning are loud;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Enough that I fade with the stars<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When the door of the East unbars.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_OLD_EARTH" id="THE_OLD_EARTH"></a>The Old Earth</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">How will it be if there we find no traces&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">There in the Golden Heaven&mdash;if we find<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">No memories of the old Earth left behind,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">No visions of familiar forms and faces&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Reminders of old voices and old places?<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yet could we bear it if it should remind?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="DIVINE_ADVENTURE" id="DIVINE_ADVENTURE"></a>Divine Adventure</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">At times a youth (so whispered legend tells),<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like Hylas, stoops to drink<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">By forest-hidden brink,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And fair hands draw him down to darkened wells;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Fair hands that hold him fast<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With laughter at the last<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Have power to draw him lightly down to be<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In elfin chambers under the gray sea.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And I, O men of Earth, I too,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">When dawn was at the dew,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Was drawn as Hylas downward and beheld<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Spirits of youth and eld&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Was swung down endless caverns to the deep,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Saw fervid jewels sparkle in their sleep,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Saw glad gnomes working in the dusty light,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Saw great rocks crouching in the primal night.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I was drawn down, and after many days<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Returned with stiller feet to walk the upper ways.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="SONG_MADE_FLESH" id="SONG_MADE_FLESH"></a>Song Made Flesh</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I have no glory in these songs of mine:<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">If one of them can make a brother strong,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It came down from the peaks of the divine&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">I heard it in the Heaven of Lyric Song.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The one who builds the poem into fact,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">He is the rightful owner of it all:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The pale words are with God’s own power packed<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">When brave souls answer to their buglecall.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And so I ask no man to praise my song,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">But I would have him build it in his soul;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">For that great praise would make me glad and strong,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And build the poem to a perfect whole.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS" id="TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS"></a>To High-born Poets</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A cry from the toilers of Babylon for their rest.&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">O Poet, thou art holden with a vow:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The light of higher worlds is on thy brow,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And Freedom’s star is soaring in thy breast.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Go, be a dauntless voice, a bugle-cry<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In darkening battle when the winds are high&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A clear sane cry wherein the God is heard<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To speak to men the one redeeming word.<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">No peace for thee, no peace,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Till blind oppression cease;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The stones cry from the walls,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Till the gray injustice falls&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Till strong men come to build in freedom-fate<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The pillars of the new Fraternal State.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i2">Let trifling pipe be mute,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Fling by the languid lute:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Take down the trumpet and confront the Hour,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And speak to toil-worn nations from a tower&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Take down the horn wherein the thunders sleep,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Blow battles into men&mdash;call down the fire&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The daring, the long purpose, the desire;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Descend with faith into the Human Deep,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And ringing to the troops of right a cheer,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Make known the Truth of Man in holy fear;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Send forth thy spirit in a storm of song,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A tempest flinging fire upon the wrong.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_TOILERS" id="THE_TOILERS"></a>The Toilers</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Their blind feet drift in the darkness, and no one is leading;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Their toil is the pasture, where hyens and harpies are feeding;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In all lands and always, the wronged, the homeless, the humbled<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Till the cliff-like pride of the spoiler is shaken and crumbled,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Till the Pillars of Hell are uprooted and left to their ruin,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And a rose-garden gladdens the places no rose ever blew in,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Where now men huddle together and whisper and harken,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Or hold their bleak hands over embers that die out and darken.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The anarchies gather and thunder: few, few are the fraters,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And loud is the revel at night in the camp of the traitors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Say, Shelley, where are you&mdash;where are you? our hearts are a-breaking!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The fight in the terrible darkness&mdash;the shame&mdash;the forsaking!<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The leaves shower down and are sport for the winds that come after;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And so are the Toilers in all lands the jest and the laughter<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Of nobles&mdash;the Toilers scourged on in the furrow as cattle,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Or flung as a meat to the cannons that hunger in battle.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT" id="ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT"></a>On the Gulf of Night</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The world’s sad petrels dwell for evermore<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">On windy headland or on ocean floor,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Or pierce the violent skies with perilous flights<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That fret men in their palaces o’ nights,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Breaking enchanted slumber’s easeful boat,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">With shudderings of their wild and dolorous note;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They blow about the black and barren skies,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They fill the night with ineffectual cries.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">There is for them not anything before,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But sound of sea and sight of soundless shore,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Save when the darkness glimmers with a ray,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And Hope sings softly, <i>Soon it will be day</i>.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Then for a golden space the shades are thinned,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And dawn seems blowing seaward on the wind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But soon the dark comes wilder than before,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And swift around them breaks a sullen roar;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The tempest calls to windward and to lea,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And&mdash;they are seabirds on the homeless sea.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="A_HARVEST_SONG" id="A_HARVEST_SONG"></a>A Harvest Song</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The gray bulk of the granaries uploom against the sky;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The harvest moon has dwindled&mdash;they have housed the corn and rye;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And now the idle reapers lounge against the bolted doors:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Without are hungry harvesters, within enchanted stores.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Lo, they had bread while they were out a-toiling in the sun:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now they are strolling beggars, for the harvest work is done.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They are the gods of husbandry: they gather in the sheaves,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But when the autumn strips the wood, they’re drifting with the leaves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They plow and sow and gather in the glory of the corn;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They know the noon, they know the pitiless rains before the morn;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">They know the sweep of furrowed fields that darken in the gloom&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A little while their hope on earth, then evermore the tomb.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="TWO_TAVERNS" id="TWO_TAVERNS"></a>Two Taverns</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I remember how I lay<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">On a bank a summer day,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Peering into weed and flower:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Watched a poppy all one hour;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Watched it till the air grew chill<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In the darkness of the hill;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Till I saw a wild bee dart<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Out of the cold to the poppy’s heart;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Saw the petals gently spin,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And shut the little lodger in.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Then I took the quiet road<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To my own secure abode.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All night long his tavern hung;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now it rested, now it swung;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I asleep in steadfast tower,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He asleep in stirring flower;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In our hearts the same delight<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">In the hushes of the night;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Over us both the same dear care<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">As we slumbered unaware.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE" id="THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE"></a>The Man under the Stone</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">When I see a workingman with mouths to feed,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Up, day after day, in the dark before the dawn,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And coming home, night after night, through the dusk,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Swinging forward like some fierce silent animal,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I see a man doomed to roll a huge stone up an endless steep.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He strains it onward inch by stubborn inch,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Crouched always in the shadow of the rock....<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">See where he crouches, twisted, cramped, misshapen!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He lifts for their life;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The veins knot and darken&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Blood surges into his face....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now he loses&mdash;now he wins&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Now he loses&mdash;loses&mdash;(God of my soul!)<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">He digs his feet into the earth&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">There’s a moment of terrified effort.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Will the huge stone break his hold,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And crush him as it plunges to the gulf?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">The silent struggle goes on and on,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Like two contending in a dream.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER" id="SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER"></a>Song to the Divine Mother<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Come, Mighty Mother, from the bright abode,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Lift the low heavens and hush the Earth again;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come when the moon throws down a shining road<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Across the sea&mdash;come back to weary men.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">But if the moon throws out across the sea<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Too dim a light, too wavering a way,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come when the sunset paves a path for Thee<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Across the waters fading into gray.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Dead nations saw Thee dimly in release&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">In Aphrodite rising from the foam:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Some glimmer of Thy beauty was on Greece,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Some trembling of Thy passion was on Rome.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">For ages Thou hast been the dim desire<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That warmed the bridal chamber of the mind:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come burning through the heavens with Holy Fire,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And spread divine contagion on mankind.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Come down, O Mother, to the helpless land,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That we may frame our Freedom into Fate:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come down, and on the throne of nations stand,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That we may build Thy beauty in the State.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Come shining in upon our daily road,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Uphold the hero heart and light the mind;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Quicken the strong to lift the People’s load,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And bring back buried justice to mankind.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Shine through the frame of nations for a light,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Move through the hearts of heroes in a song:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It is Thy beauty, wilder than the night,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">That hushed the heavens and keeps the high gods strong.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I know, Supernal Woman, Thou dost seek<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">No song of man, no worship and no praise;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But thou wouldst have dead lips begin to speak,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And dead feet rise to walk immortal ways.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Yet listen, Mighty Mother, to the child<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Who has no voice but song to tell his grief&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Nothing but tears and broken numbers wild,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Nothing but woodland music for relief.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">His song is but a little broken cry,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Less than the whisper of a river reed;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Yet thou canst hear in it the souls that die&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Feel in its pain the vastness of our need.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I would not break the mouth of song to tell<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">My life’s long passion and my heart’s long grief,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But Thou canst hear the ocean in one shell,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And see the whole world’s winter in one leaf.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">So here I stand at the world’s weary feet,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And cry the sorrow of the world’s dumb years:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I cry because I hear the world’s heart beat<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Weary of hope, weary of life and tears.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">For ages Thou hast breathèd upon mankind<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">A faint wild tenderness, a vague desire;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">For ages stilled the whirlwinds of the mind,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And sent on lyric seers the rush of fire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">And yet the world is held by wintry chain,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Dead to Thy social passion, Holy One:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The dried-up furrows need the vital rain,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">The cold seeds the quick spirit of the sun.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Some day our homeless cries will draw Thee down,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And the old brightness on the ways of men<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Will send a hush upon the jangling town,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And broken hearts will learn to love again.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Come, Bride of God, to fill the vacant Throne,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Touch the dim Earth again with sacred feet;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Come build the Holy City of white stone,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And let the whole world’s gladness be complete.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span><br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Come with the face that hushed the heavens of old&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Come with Thy maidens in a mist of light;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Haste for the night falls and the shadows fold,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">And voices cry and wander on the height.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_FLYING_MIST" id="THE_FLYING_MIST"></a>The Flying Mist</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">I watch afar the moving Mystery,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The wool-shod, formless terror of the sea&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The Mystery whose lightest touch can change<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The world God made to phantasy, death-strange.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Under its spell all things grow old and gray<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">As they will be beyond the Judgment Day.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">All voices, at the lifting of some hand,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Seem calling to us from another land.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Is it the still Power of the Sepulcher<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">That makes all things the wraiths of things that were?<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">It touches, one by one, the wayside posts,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And they are gone, a line of hurrying ghosts.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It creeps upon the towns with stealthy feet,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And men are phantoms on a phantom street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It strikes the towers and they are shafts of air,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Above the spectres passing in the square.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The city turns to ashes, spire by spire;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The mountains perish with their peaks afire.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The fading city and the falling sky<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Are swallowed in one doom without a cry.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">It tracks the traveler fleeing with the gale,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Fleeing toward home and friends without avail;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It springs upon him and he is a ghost,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A blurred shape moving on a soundless coast.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">God! it pursues my love along the stream,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Swirls round her and she is forever dream.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">What Hate has touched the universe with eld,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And left me only in a world dispelled?<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD" id="FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD"></a>From the Hand of a Child</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">One day a child ran after me in the street,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To give me a half-blown rose, a fire-white rose,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Its stem all warm yet from the tight-shut hand.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The little gift seemed somehow more to me<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Than all men strive for in the turbid towns,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Than all they hoard up through a long wild life.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And as I breathed the heart-breath of the flower,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The Youth of Earth broke on me like a dawn,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And I was with the wide-eyed wondering things,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Back in the far forgotten buried time.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A lost world came back softly with the rose:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I saw a glad host follow with lusty cries<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Diana flying with her maidens white,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Down the long reaches of the laureled hills.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Above the sea I saw a wreath of girls,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Fading to air in far-off poppy fields.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I saw a blithe youth take the open road:<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">His thoughts ran on before him merrily;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Sometimes he dipped his feet in stirring brooks;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">At night he slept upon a bed of boughs.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">This in my soul. Then suddenly a shape,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A spectre wearing yet the mask of dust<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Jostled against me as he passed, and lo!<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The jarring city and the drift of feet<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Surged back upon me like the grieving sea.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS" id="AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS"></a>At the Meeting of Seven Valleys</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">At the meeting of seven valleys in the west,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I came upon a host of silent souls,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Seated beside still waters on the grass.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">It was a place of memories and tears&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Terrible tears. I rested in a wood,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And there the bird that mourns for Itys sang&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Itys that touched the tears of all the world.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But climbing onward toward the purple peaks,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">I passed, on silent feet, white multitudes,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Beyond the reach of peering memories,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Lying asleep upon the scented banks,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Their bodies burning with celestial fire.<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">A mighty awe came on me at the thought&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The strangeness of the beatific sleep,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The vision of God, the mystic bread of rest.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THE_ROCK-BREAKER" id="THE_ROCK-BREAKER"></a>The Rock-Breaker</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">Pausing he leans upon his sledge, and looks&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">A labor-blasted toiler;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">So have I seen, on Shasta’s top, a pine<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Stand silent on a cliff,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Stript of its glory of green leaves and boughs,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Its great trunk split by fire,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Its gray bark blackened by the thunder-smoke,<br /></span>

-<span class="i2">Its life a sacrifice<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To some blind purpose of the destinies.<br /></span>

-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span></div></div>

-</div>

-

-<h2><a name="THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH" id="THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH"></a>These Songs Will Perish</h2>

-

-<div class="poetry">

-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">These songs will perish like the shapes of air&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">The singer and the songs die out forever;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">But star-eyed Truth (greater than song or singer)<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Sweeps hurrying on: far off she sees a gleam<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Upon a peak. She cried to man of old<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To build the enduring, glad Fraternal State&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Cries yet through all the ruins of the world&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Through Karnack, through the stones of Babylon&mdash;<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Cries for a moment through these fading songs.<br /></span>

-</div><div class="stanza">

-<span class="i0">On wingèd feet, a form of fadeless youth,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">She goes to meet the coming centuries,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span><br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And, hurrying, snatches up some human reed,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">Blows through it once her terror-bearing note,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">And breaks and throws away. It is enough<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">If we can be a bugle at her lips,<br /></span>

-<span class="i0">To scatter her contagion on mankind.<br /></span>

-</div></div>

-</div>

-

-<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTE:</p>

-

-<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This song should be read in the light of the deep and

-comforting truth that the Divine Feminine as well as the Divine

-Masculine Principle is in God&mdash;that he is Father-Mother, Two-in-One. It

-follows from this truth that the dignity of womanhood is grounded in the

-Divine Nature itself. The fact that the Deity is Man-Woman was known to

-the ancient poets and sages, and was grafted into the nobler religions

-of mankind. The idea is implied in the doctrine of the Divine Father,

-taught by our Lord in the Gospels; and it is declared in the first

-chapter of Genesis in the words: “God said, ‘Let Us make men in Our

-image, after Our likeness.’ ... So God created man in His own image, in

-the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.”</p></div>

-

-</div>

-<hr class="full" />

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+  <head>  <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" />
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+<title>
+  The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man With The Hoe, by Edwin Markham.
+</title>
+<style type="text/css">
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+letter-spacing:1em;}
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+  </head>
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67012 ***</div>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<div class="c">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p class="c">The Man with the Hoe<br />
+<br /><br />
+TO<br />
+<br />
+EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN<br />
+<br />
+<small>FIRST TO HAIL AND CAUTION ME<br /></small>
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<h1>
+The Man with the Hoe</h1>
+
+<p class="cb">AND OTHER POEMS<br />
+<br />
+<i><small>By</small></i><br />
+EDWIN MARKHAM<br />
+<br />
+<img src="images/colophon.jpg"
+width="115"
+alt="" />
+<br />
+<br />
+NEW YORK<br />
+DOUBLEDAY &amp; McCLURE COMPANY<br />
+1899<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<h2><a name="PREFATORY_NOTE" id="PREFATORY_NOTE"></a>Prefatory Note</h2>
+
+<p>Many of these poems have appeared in <i>Scribner’s</i>, <i>The Century</i>, <i>The
+Atlantic</i>, and the San Francisco <i>Examiner</i>, and my thanks are due them
+for permission to republish.</p>
+
+<p class="r">
+<span class="smcap">Edwin Markham.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oakland, California.</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_CONTENTS" id="THE_CONTENTS"></a>The Contents</h2>
+
+<table cellpadding="2">
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE">The Man with the Hoe</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF">A Look into the Gulf</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BROTHERHOOD">Brotherhood</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_21">21</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN">Song of the Followers of Pan</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND">Little Brothers of the Ground</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD">Wail of the Wandering Dead</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_PRAYER">A Prayer</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_POET">The Poet</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD">The Whirlwind Road</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS">The Desire of Nations</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_33">33</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_ELF_CHILD">The Elf Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH">The Goblin Laugh</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#POETRY">Poetry</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_MEETING">A Meeting</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#INFINITE_DEPTHS">Infinite Depths</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK">A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_PAYMASTER">The Paymaster</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_46">46</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LAST_FURROW">The Last Furrow</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_THE_STORM">In the Storm</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE">After Reading Shakspere</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY">The Hidden Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_POETS">The Poets</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LOVES_VIGIL">Love’s Vigil</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE">Two at a Fireside</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_BUTTERFLY">The Butterfly</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_WILLIAM_WATSON">To William Watson</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#KEATS_A-DYING">Keats A-Dying</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MAN">Man</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_CRICKET">The Cricket</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_HIGH_SIERRAS">In High Sierras</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_62">62</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS">The Wharf of Dreams</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_LOUISE_MICHEL">To Louise Michel</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID">Shepherd Boy and Nereid</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SONG_AT_THE_START">A Song at the Start</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_68">68</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MY_COMRADE">My Comrade</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN">A Lyric of the Dawn</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JOY_OF_THE_MORNING">Joy of the Morning</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#YOUTH_AND_TIME">Youth and Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SATYR_SONG">A Satyr Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT">A Cry in the Night</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FAYS">Fays</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_DEATH_VALLEY">In Death Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AT_DAWN">At Dawn</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FOLLOW_ME">“Follow Me”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_POPPY_FIELDS">In Poppy Fields</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS">The Joy of the Hills</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE">The Invisible Bride</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_VALLEY">The Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_94">94</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE">The Climb of Life</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TRAGEDY">The Tragedy</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_97">97</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DIVINE_VISION">Divine Vision</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_98">98</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MIDSUMMER_NOON">Midsummer Noon</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_99">99</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW">One Life, One Law</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_100">100</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GRIEFS">Griefs</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_101">101</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_OLD_ROAD">An Old Road</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_102">102</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_NEW-COMERS">The New Comers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_103">103</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MUSIC">Music</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_104">104</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FAY_SONG">Fay Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_OLD_EARTH">The Old Earth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DIVINE_ADVENTURE">Divine Adventure</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_MADE_FLESH">Song Made Flesh</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS">To High-born Poets</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_110">110</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TOILERS">The Toilers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT">On the Gulf of Night</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_HARVEST_SONG">A Harvest Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_116">116</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TWO_TAVERNS">Two Taverns</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE">The Man under the Stone</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_119">119</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER">Song to the Divine Mother</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_FLYING_MIST">The Flying Mist</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_127">127</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD">From the Hand of a Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_129">129</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS">At the Meeting of Seven Valleys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_131">131</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_ROCK-BREAKER">The Rock-Breaker</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH">These Songs Will Perish</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<h1>The Man with the Hoe</h1>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE" id="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE"></a>The Man with the Hoe</h2>
+
+<p class="c"><i>Written after seeing Millet’s World-Famous Painting</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><small>
+<span class="i0">God made man in His own image,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">in the image of God made He him.&mdash;<i>Genesis.</i><br /></span>
+</small></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The emptiness of ages in his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on his back the burden of the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who made him dead to rapture and despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have dominion over sea and land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feel the passion of Eternity?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pillared the blue firmament with light?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is no shape more terrible than this&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More filled with signs and portents for the soul&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More fraught with menace to the universe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What gulfs between him and the seraphim!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What the long reaches of the peaks of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plundered, profaned and disinherited,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries protest to the Judges of the World,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A protest that is also prophecy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is this the handiwork you give to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How will you ever straighten up this shape;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Touch it again with immortality;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give back the upward looking and the light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rebuild in it the music and the dream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make right the immemorial infamies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How will the Future reckon with this Man?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How answer his brute question in that hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How will it be with kingdoms and with kings&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With those who shaped him to the thing he is&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When this dumb Terror shall reply to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After the silence of the centuries?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF" id="A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF"></a>A Look into the Gulf</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I looked one night, and there Semiramis,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all her mourning doves about her head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snatches of song they sang to her of old<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“The bugles! they are crying back again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then went crying on through Nineveh.<br /></span>
+<span class="ipnts">. . . . . . .<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assyria goes by upon the wind!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so she babbles by the ancient road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While cities turned to dust upon the Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rise through her whirling brain to live again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her weary lips beat on without a sound.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="BROTHERHOOD" id="BROTHERHOOD"></a>Brotherhood</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The crest and crowning of all good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Life’s final star, is Brotherhood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For it will bring again to Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will send new light on every face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A kingly power upon the race.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And till it come, we men are slaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And travel downward to the dust of graves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Come, clear the way, then, clear the way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blind creeds and kings have had their day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Break the dead branches from the path:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our hope is in the aftermath&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our hope is in heroic men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Star-led to build the world again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To this Event the ages ran:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make way for Brotherhood&mdash;make way for Man.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN" id="SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN"></a>Song of the Followers of Pan</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our bursting bugles blow apart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The gates of cities as we go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We bring the music of the heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From secret wells in Lillimo’.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We break in music on the morns&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing of the flower to stirring roots;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Apollo’s cry is in the horns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Hermes’ whisper in the flutes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We come with laughter to the Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lightly stir the heading wheat:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our God is Poesy and Mirth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And loves the noise of woodland feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When dancers beat the air to sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">After the time of yellow sheaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He stops to watch the merry round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His pleased face looking through the leaves.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND" id="LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND"></a>Little Brothers of the Ground</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little ants in leafy wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bound by gentle Brotherhood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While ye gaily gather spoil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men are ground by the wheel of toil;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While ye follow Blessed Fates,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men are shriveled up with hates;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or they lie with sheeted Lust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they eat the bitter dust.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye are fraters in your hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gay and chainless, great and small;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All are toilers in the field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All are sharers in the yield.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we mortals plot and plan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How to grind the fellow-man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glad to find him in a pit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we get some gain of it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So with us, the sons of Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Labor is a kind of crime,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the toilers have the least,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the idlers lord the feast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, our workers they are bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pallid captives to the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jeered by traitors, fooled by knaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till they stumble into graves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How appears to tiny eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All this wisdom of the wise?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD" id="WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD"></a>Wail of the Wandering Dead</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Death, too, is a chimera and betrays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And yet they promised we should enter rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death is as empty as the cup of days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bitter milk is in her wintry breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is no worth in any world to come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor any in the world we left behind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what remains of all our masterdom?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Only a cry out of the crumbling mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We played all comers at the old Gray Inn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But played the King of Players to our cost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We played Him fair and had no chance to win:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The dice of God were loaded and we lost.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We wander, wander, and the nights come down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With starless darkness and the rush of rains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We drift as phantoms by the songless town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We drift as litter on the windy lanes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hope is the fading vision of the heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A mocking spirit throwing up wild hands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She led us on with music at the start,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To leave us at dead fountains in the sands.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now all our days are but a cry for sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For we are weary of the petty strife.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is there not somewhere in the endless deep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A place where we can lose the feel of life?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where we can be as senseless as the dust<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The night wind blows about a dried-up well?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where there is no more labor, no more lust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor any flesh to feel the Tooth of Hell?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our feet are ever sliding, and we seem<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As old and weary as the pyramids.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, God of Ages, and dispel the dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fold the worn hands and close the sinking lids.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is no new road for the dead to take:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild hearts are we among the worlds astray&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wild hearts are we that cannot wholly break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But linger on though life has gone away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We are the sons of Misery and Eld:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come, tender Death, with all your hushing wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let our broken spirits be dispelled&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let dead men sink into the dusk of things.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_PRAYER" id="A_PRAYER"></a>A Prayer</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softly as the grasses grow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hush my soul to meet the shock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the wild world as a rock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my spirit, propt with power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make as simple as a flower.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the dry heart fill its cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let life lightly wear her crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When its heart is filled with dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And its life begins anew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind and patient as a tree.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Joyfully the crickets croon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under shady oak at noon;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beetle, on his mission bent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tarries in that cooling tent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me, also, cheer a spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hidden field or garden grot&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Place where passing souls can rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the way and be their best.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_POET" id="THE_POET"></a>The Poet</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His home is in the heights: to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men wage a battle weird and dim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life is a mission stern as fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Song a dread apostolate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The toils of prophecy are his,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hail the coming centuries&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ease the steps and lift the load<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of souls that falter on the road.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The perilous music that he hears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls from the vortice of the spheres.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He presses on before the race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sings out of a silent place.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like faint notes of a forest bird<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On heights afar that voice is heard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the dim path he breaks to-day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will some time be a trodden way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when the race comes toiling on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That voice of wonder will be gone&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be heard on higher peaks afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moved upward with the morning star.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O men of earth, that wandering voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still goes the upward way: rejoice!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD" id="THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD"></a>The Whirlwind Road</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Muses wrapped in mysteries of light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came in a rush of music on the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I was lifted wildly on quick wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And borne away into the deep of things.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dead doors of my being broke apart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wind of rapture blew across the heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The inward song of worlds rang still and clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I felt the Mystery the Muses fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet they went swiftening on the ways untrod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hurled me breathless at the feet of God.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I felt faint touches of the Final Truth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moments of trembling love, moments of youth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A vision swept away the human wall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slowly I saw the meaning of it all&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meaning of life and time and death and birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But can not tell it to the men of Earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I only point the way, and they must go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whirlwind road of song if they would know.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS" id="THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS"></a>The Desire of Nations</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>And the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall
+be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The ever-lasting
+Father, The Prince of Peace.&mdash;<i>Isaiah.</i></p></div>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Earth will go back to her lost youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And life grow deep and wonderful as truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the wise King out of the nearing heaven comes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To break the spell of long millenniums&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build with song again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The broken hope of men&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hush and heroize the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the flag of Brotherhood unfurled.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He will come some day:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Already is His star upon the way!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He comes, O world, He comes!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not with bugle-cry nor roll of doubling drums.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nay, for He comes to loosen and unbind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build the lofty purpose in the mind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stir the heart’s deep chord....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No rude horns parleying, no shock of shields;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor as of old the glory of the Lord<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To half-awakened shepherds in the fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looking with foolish faces on the rush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the Great Splendor, when the pulsing hush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came o’er the hills, came o’er the heavens afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where on their cliff of stars the watching seraphs are.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor as of old when first the Strong One trod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Power of sepulchers&mdash;our Risen God!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When on that deathless morning in the dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He quit the Garden of the Sepulcher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Setting the oleander boughs astir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pausing at the gate with backward hark.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, nor as when the Hero-King of Heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came with upbraiding to His faint eleven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found the world-way to His bright feet barred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hopeless then because men’s hearts were hard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor will He come like carnal kings of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With pomp of pilfered gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor like the pharisees with pride of prayer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor as the stumbling foolish stewards dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In tedious argument and fruitless creed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in the passion of the heart-warm deed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will come the Man Supreme.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, for He comes to lift the Public Care&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build on Earth the Vision hung in air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the one fulfillment of His Law&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one Fact in the mockeries that seem.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the Vision that the prophets saw&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Comrade Kingdom builded in their dream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No, not as in that elder day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes now the King upon the human way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He comes with power: His white unfearing face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shines through the Social Passion of the race.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He comes to frame the freedom of the Law,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To touch these men of Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With feeling of life’s oneness and its worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A feeling of its mystery and awe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when He comes into the world gone wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will rebuild her beauty with a song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To every heart He will its own dream be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One moon has many phantoms in the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the North the norns will cry to men:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Balder the Beautiful has come again!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flutes of Greece will whisper from the dead:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Apollo has unveiled his sunbright head!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stones of Thebes and Memphis will find voice:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Osiris comes: O tribes of Time, rejoice!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And social architects who build the State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Serving the Dream at citadel and gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will hail Him coming through the labor-hum.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glad quick cries will go from man to man:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Lo, He has come, our Christ the Artisan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The King who loved the lilies, He has come!”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He will arrive, our Counselor and Chief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with bleak faces lighted up will come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The earth-worn mothers from their martyrdom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tell Him of their grief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glad girls caroling from field and town<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will go to meet Him with the labor-crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The new crown woven of the heading wheat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men will sit down at His sacred feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He will say&mdash;the King&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Come, let us live the poetry we sing!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these, His burning words, will break the ban&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Words that will grow to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On continent, on sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rallying cry of man....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He comes to make the long injustice right&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes to push back the shadow of the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gray Tradition full of flint and flaw&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes to wipe out the insults to the soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The insults of the Few against the Whole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The insults they make righteous with a law.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yea, He will bear the Safety of the State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in his still and rhythmic steps will be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The power and music of Alcyone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who holds the swift heavens in their starry fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, He will lay on souls the power of peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And send on kingdoms torn the sense of Home&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than the fire of Joy that burned on Greece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than the light of Law that rose on Rome.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_ELF_CHILD" id="THE_ELF_CHILD"></a>The Elf Child</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I am a child of the reef and the blowing spray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And all my heart goes wildly to the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am a changeling: can you follow me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through hill and hollow on the wind’s dim way?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, at the break of a tempestuous day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They bore me to the land through starless storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And laid me in the pillow sweetly warm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And broken by the first one’s little stay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The elf kings found me on an ocean reef,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lyric child of mystery and grief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then need I tell you why the trembling start&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why in my song the sound of ocean dwells&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why the quick gladness when the billow swells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As though remembered voices called the heart?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH" id="THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH"></a>The Goblin Laugh</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I behold how men and women grind<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And grovel for some place of pomp or power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To shine and circle through a crumbling hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forgetting the large mansions of the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That are the rest and shelter of mankind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And when I see them come with wearied brains<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pallid and powerless to enjoy their gains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I seem to hear a goblin laugh unwind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then a memory sends upon its billow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thoughts of a singer wise enough to play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who took life as a lightsome holiday:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft have I seen him make his arm a pillow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drink from his hand, and with a pipe of willow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blow a wild music down a woodland way.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="POETRY" id="POETRY"></a>Poetry</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She comes as hush and beauty of the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sees too deep for laughter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her touch is a vibration and a light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From worlds before and after.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_MEETING" id="A_MEETING"></a>A Meeting</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Softly she came one twilight from the dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in the passionate silence of her look<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was more than man has writ in any book:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now my thoughts are restless, and a dread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For down the leafy ways her white feet took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lightly the newly broken roses shook&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">God! was it joy or sorrow in her face&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That quiet face? Had it grown old or young?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was it sweet memory or sad that stung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her voiceless soul to wander from its place?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What do the dead find in the Silence&mdash;grace?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or endless grief for which there is no tongue?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="INFINITE_DEPTHS" id="INFINITE_DEPTHS"></a>Infinite Depths</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The little pool, in street or field apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Glasses deep heavens and the rushing storm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And into silent depths of every heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Eternal throws its awful shadow-form.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK" id="A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK"></a>A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beside the sewing-table chained and bent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Torn in life’s golden curtains. Glad Youth went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And left them alone with Time; and now if bowed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With burdens they should sob and cry aloud,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wondering, the rich would look from their content.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so this glimmering life at last recedes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In unknown, endless depths beyond recall;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what’s the worth of all our ancient creeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If here at the end of ages this is all&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A white face floating in the whirling ball,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dead face plashing in the river reeds?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_PAYMASTER" id="THE_PAYMASTER"></a>The Paymaster</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is a sacred Something on all ways&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Something that watches through the Universe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One that remembers, reckons and repays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Giving us love for love, and curse for curse.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_LAST_FURROW" id="THE_LAST_FURROW"></a>The Last Furrow</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Spirit of Earth, with still restoring hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">’Mid ruin moves, in glimmering chasm gropes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mosses mantle and the bright flower opes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Death the Ploughman wanders in all lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the last of Earth his furrow stands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grave is never hidden; fearful hopes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Follow the dead upon the fading slopes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And there wild memories meet upon the sands.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When willows fling their banners to the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When rumor of winds and sound of sudden showers<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disturb the dream of winter&mdash;all in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grasses hurry to the graves, the flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Toss their wild torches on their windy towers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet are the bleak graves lonely in the rain.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_THE_STORM" id="IN_THE_STORM"></a>In the Storm</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I huddled close against the mighty cliff.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sense of safety and of brotherhood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broke on the heart: the shelter of a rock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE" id="AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE"></a>After Reading Shakspere</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blithe Fancy lightly builds with airy hands<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or on the edges of the darkness peers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Breathless and frightened at the Voice she hears:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imagination (lo! the sky expands)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Travels the blue arch and Cimmerian sands,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Homeless on earth, the pilgrim of the spheres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The rush of light before the hurrying years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Voice that cries in unfamiliar lands.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Men weigh the moons that flood with eerie light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The dusky vales of Saturn&mdash;wood and stream;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But who shall follow on the awful sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Neptune through the dim and dreadful deep?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onward he wanders in the unknown night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we are shadows moving in a dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY" id="THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY"></a>The Hidden Valley</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I stray with Ariel and Caliban:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I know the hill of windy pines&mdash;I know<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the jay’s nest swings in the wild gorge below:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lightly I climb where fallen cedars span<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright rivers&mdash;climb to a valley under ban,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where west winds set a thousand bells ablow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An eerie valley where in the morning glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hear the music of the pipes of Pan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mysterious horns blow by on the still air&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A satyr steps&mdash;a wood-god’s dewy notes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come faintly from a vale of tossing oats.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ho! what white thing in the canyon crossed?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gods! I shall come on Dian unaware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look on her fearful beauty and be lost.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_POETS" id="THE_POETS"></a>The Poets</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some cry of Sappho’s lyre, of Saadi’s flute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Comes back across the waste of mortal things:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men strive and die to reach the Dead Sea fruit&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Only the poets find immortal springs.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="LOVES_VIGIL" id="LOVES_VIGIL"></a>Love’s Vigil</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love will outwatch the stars, and light the skies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the last star falls, and the silent dark devours;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God’s warrior, he will watch the allotted hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And conquer with the look of his sad eyes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shakes the kingdom of darkness with his sighs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His quiet sighs, while all the Infernal Powers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tremble and pale upon their central towers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest, haply, his bright universe arise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All will be well if he have strength to wait,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till his lost Pleiad, white and silver-shod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Regains her place to make the perfect Seven;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then all the worlds will know that Love is Fate&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That somehow he is greater even than Heaven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That in the Cosmic Council he is God.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE" id="TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE"></a>Two at a Fireside</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I built a chimney for a comrade old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I did the service not for hope or hire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then I traveled on in winter’s cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_BUTTERFLY" id="THE_BUTTERFLY"></a>The Butterfly</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O wingèd brother on the harebell, stay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was God’s hand very pitiful, the hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That wrought thy beauty at a dream’s demand?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Yea, knowing I love so well the flowery way,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>He did not fling me to the world astray&mdash;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>He did not drop me to the weary sand,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>But bore me gently to a leafy land:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Tinting my wings, He gave me to the day.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, chide no more my doubting, my despair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I will go back now to the world of men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Farewell, I leave thee to the world of air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet thou hast girded up my heart again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For He that framed the impenetrable plan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And keeps His word with thee, will keep with man.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TO_WILLIAM_WATSON" id="TO_WILLIAM_WATSON"></a>To William Watson</h2>
+
+<p class="c"><i>After reading “The Purple East.”</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That hour you put the wreath of England by<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To shake her guilty heart with song sublime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty Muse that watches from the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Laid on your head the larger wreath of Time.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="KEATS_A-DYING" id="KEATS_A-DYING"></a>Keats A-Dying</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Often of that Last Hour I lie and think;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I see thee, Keats, nearing the Deathway dim&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">See Severn in his noiseless hurry, him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who leaned above thee fading on the brink.<br /></span>
+<span class="ipnts">. . . . . . .<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is that wild light through the window chink?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is it the burning feet of cherubim?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or is it the white moon on western rim&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saint Agnes’ moon beginning now to sink?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How did Death come&mdash;with sounds of water-stir?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With forms of beauty breaking at the lips?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With field pipes and the scent of blowing fir?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or came it hurrying like a last eclipse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweeping the world away like gossamer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blotting the moon, the mountains, and the ships?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MAN" id="MAN"></a>Man</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Out of the deep and endless universe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There came a greater Mystery, a Shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Something sad, inscrutable, august&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One to confront the worlds and question them.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_CRICKET" id="THE_CRICKET"></a>The Cricket</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The twilight is the morning of his day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While sleep drops seaward from the fading shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With purpling sail and dip of silver oar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cheers the shadowed time with roun-delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the dark east softens into gray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now as the noisy hours are coming&mdash;hark!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His song dies gently&mdash;it is growing dark&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His night, with its one star, is on its way!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Faintly the light breaks o’er the blowing oats&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sleep, little brother, sleep: I am astir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We worship Song, and servants are of her&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I in the bright hours, thou in shadow-time;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lead thou the starlit night with merry notes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I will lead the clamoring day with rhyme.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_HIGH_SIERRAS" id="IN_HIGH_SIERRAS"></a>In High Sierras</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There at a certain hour of the deep night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gray cliff with a demon face comes up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrinkled and old, behind the peaks, and with<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An anxious look peers at the Zodiac.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS" id="THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS"></a>The Wharf of Dreams</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strange wares are handled on the wharves of sleep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shadows of shadows pass, and many a light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flashes a signal fire across the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Barges depart whose voiceless steersmen keep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their way without a star upon the deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And from lost ships, homing with ghostly crews,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come cries of incommunicable news,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While cargoes pile the piers, a moon-white heap&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Budgets of dream-dust, merchandise of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fardels of heartache, burdens of old sins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Luggage sent down from dim ancestral inns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bales of fantasy from No-Man’s Land.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TO_LOUISE_MICHEL" id="TO_LOUISE_MICHEL"></a>To Louise Michel</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I cannot take your road, Louise Michel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Priestess of Pity and of Vengeance&mdash;no:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Down that amorphous gulf I cannot go&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gulf of Anarchy whose pit is Hell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, sister, though my first word is farewell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Remember that I know your hidden woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have felt the grief that rends you blow on blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have knelt beside you in the murky cell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You never followed hate (let this atone)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor knew the wrongs of others from your own:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild was the road, but Love has always led,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I am silent where I cannot praise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here now at the parting of the ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I lay a still hand lightly on your head.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID" id="SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID"></a>Shepherd Boy and Nereid</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, once of old in some forgotten tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forgotten land, I was a shepherd boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And you a Nereid, a wingèd joy:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On through the dawn-bright peaks our bodies swung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flower-soft lyrics by immortals sung<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fell from their unseen pinnacles in air:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God looked from Heaven that hour, for you were fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I a poet, and the star was young.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You’d heard my woodland pipe and left the sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your hair blown gold and all your body white&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had left the ocean-girls to follow me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We joined the hill-nymphs in their joyous flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you laughed lightly to the sea, and sent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quick glances flashing through me as I went.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_SONG_AT_THE_START" id="A_SONG_AT_THE_START"></a>A Song at the Start</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, down the quick river our galley is going,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a sound in the cordage, a beam on the sail:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wind of the canyon our loose hair is blowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the clouds of the morning are glad of the gale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Around the swift prow little billows are breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And flinging their foam in a glory of light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now the shade of a rock on the river is shaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And a wave leaps high up growing suddenly white.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The weight of the whole world is light as a feather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the peaks rise in silence and westerly flee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the world and the poet are singing together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And from the far cliff comes a sound of the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MY_COMRADE" id="MY_COMRADE"></a>My Comrade</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I never build a song by night or day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in some wondrous unexpected way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like light upon a road, my Love comes in.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when I go at night upon the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My heart is lifted on mysterious wings:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Love is there to strengthen and to still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For she can take away the dread of things.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN" id="A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN"></a>A Lyric of the Dawn</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Alone I list<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the leafy tryst;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silent the woodlands in their starry sleep&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silent the phantom wood in waters deep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No footfall of a wind along the pass<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Startles a harebell&mdash;stirs a blade of grass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yonder the wandering weeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Enchanted in the light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stand in the gusty hollows, still and white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yonder are plumy reeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dusking the border of the clear lagoon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far off the silver clifts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hang in ethereal light below the moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far off the ocean lifts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tossing its billows in the misty beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shore-lines whiten, silent as a dream:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hark for the bird, and all the hushed hills harken:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the valley: here the branches darken<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The silver-lighted stream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Hark&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That rapture in the leafy dark!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who is it shouts upon the bough aswing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waking the upland and the valley under?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What carols, like the blazon of a king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fill all the dawn with wonder?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Oh, hush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It is the thrush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the deep and woody glen!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, thus the gladness of the gods was sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the old Earth was young;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That rapture rang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the first morning on the mountains sprang:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now he shouts, and the world is young again!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Carol, my king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On your bough aswing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art not of these evil days&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art a voice of the world’s lost youth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, tell me what is duty&mdash;what is truth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How to find God upon these hungry ways;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell of the golden prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When men beheld swift deities descend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the race was left alone with Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Homesick on Earth, and homeless to the end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When bird and beast could make a man their friend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before great Pan was dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before the naiads fled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When maidens white with dark eyes shy and bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With peals of laughter on the peaks of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Startled the still dawn&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shone in upon the mountains and were gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their voices fading silverly in depths of forests old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing of the wonders of their woodland ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the weird earth-hunger of these days,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When there was rippling mirth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When justice was on Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And light and grandeur of the Golden Age;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When never a heart was sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When all from king to herdsman had<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A penny for a wage.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, that old time has faded to a dream&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moon’s fair face is broken in the stream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet shout and carol on, O bird, and let<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The exiled race not utterly forget;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Publish thy revelation on the lawns&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing ever in the dark ethereal dawns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sometime, in some sweet year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These stormy souls, these men of Earth may hear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">But hark again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From the secret glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That voice of rapture and ethereal youth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now laden with despair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forbear, O bird, forbear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is life not terrible enough forsooth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cease, cease the mystic song<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more, no more, the passion and the pain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It wakes my life to fret against the chain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It makes me think of all the agèd wrong&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of joy and the end of joy and the end of all&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of souls on Earth, and souls beyond recall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, ah, that voice again!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It makes me think of all these restless men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Called into time&mdash;their progress and their goal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And now, oh now, it sends into my soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dreams of a love that might have been for me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That might have been&mdash;and now can never be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Tell me no more of these&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell me of trancèd trees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The ghosts, the memories, in pity spare)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Show me the leafy home of the wild bees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Show me the snowy summits dim in air;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell me of things afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In valleys silent under moon and star:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dim hollows hushed with night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lofty cedars misty in the light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild clusters of the vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild odors of the pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eagle’s eyrie lifted to the moon&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High places where on quiet afternoon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A shadow swiftens by, a thrilling scream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Startles the cliff, and dies across the woodland to a dream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Ha, now<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He springs from the bough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It flickers&mdash;he is lost!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out of the copse he sprang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the floating briar where he tossed:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The leaves are yet atremble where he sang.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Here a long vista opens&mdash;look!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This is the way he took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the pale poplars by the pond:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hark! he is shouting in the field beyond.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ho, there he goes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through the alder close!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He leaves me here behind him in his flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet my heart goes with him out of sight!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What whispered spell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Faëry calls me on from dell to dell?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hear the voice&mdash;it wanders in a dream&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now in the grove, now on the hill, now on the fading stream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Lead on&mdash;you know the way&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Lead on to Arcady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er fields asleep; by river bank abrim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down leafy ways, dewy and cool and dim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By dripping rocks, dark dwellings of the gnome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where hurrying waters dash their crests to foam.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow where you lead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down winding paths, across the flowery mead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down silent hollows where the woodbine blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up water-courses scented by the rose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow the wandering voice&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow, I rejoice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fade away into the Age of Gold&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We two together lost in forest old.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O ferny and thymy paths, O fields of Aidenn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canyons and cliffs by mortal feet untrod!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O souls that weary and are heavy laden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Here is the peace of God!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo! now the clamoring hours are on the way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faintly the pine tops redden in the ray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From vale to vale fleet-footed rumors run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sudden apprehension of the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A light wind stirs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The filmy tops of delicate dim firs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And on the river border blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breaking the shy bud softly to a rose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing out, O throstle, sing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow on, my king:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lead me forever through the crimson dawn&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the world ends, lead me on!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ho there! he shouts again&mdash;he sways&mdash;and now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upspringing from the bough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flashing a glint of dew upon the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Without a sound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He drops into a valley and is gone!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="JOY_OF_THE_MORNING" id="JOY_OF_THE_MORNING"></a>Joy of the Morning</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hear you, little bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shouting aswing above the broken wall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing to my soul in the deep still wood:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’d tell it, too, if I could.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft when the white, still dawn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The world’s mysterious stir)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But had no throat like yours, my bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor such a listener.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="YOUTH_AND_TIME" id="YOUTH_AND_TIME"></a>Youth and Time</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once, I remember, the world was young;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rills rejoiced with a silver tongue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The field-lark sat in the wheat and sang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thrush’s shout in the woodland rang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cliffs and the perilous sands afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were softened to mist by the morning star;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Youth was with me (I know it now!),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a light shone out from his wreathèd brow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He turned the fields to enchanted ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He touched the rains with a dreamy sound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But alas, he vanished, and Time appeared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Spirit of Ages, old and weird.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He crushed and scattered my beamy wings;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He dragged me forth from the court of kings;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gave me doubt and a bloom of beard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Spirit of Ages, old and weird.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wonder went from the field of corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glory died on the craggy horn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And suddenly all was strange and gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rocks came out on the trodden way.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hear no more the wild thrush sing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is silent now on the peach aswing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something is gone from the house of mirth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something is gone from the hills of Earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time hurries me on with a wizard hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He turns the Earth to a homeless land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He stays my life with a stingy breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And darkens its depths with foreknowledge of death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Calls memories back on their path apace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sends desperate thoughts to the soul’s dim place.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pushes us on to the windowless inn.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_SATYR_SONG" id="A_SATYR_SONG"></a>A Satyr Song</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know by the stir of the branches<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The way she went;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at times I can see where a stem<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the grass is bent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She’s the secret and light of my life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She allures to elude;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I follow the spell of her beauty<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whatever the mood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have followed all night in the hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And my breath is deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she flies on before like a voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the vale of sleep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I follow the print of her feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the wild river bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lo, she calls gleefully down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From a cliff overhead.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT" id="A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT"></a>A Cry in the Night</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wail, wail, wail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the fleering world goes down:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the song of the poet pale<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mixes the laugh of the clown.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Grim, grim, grim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is the road we go to the dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet we must on, for a Something dim<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pushes the soul ahead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where, where, where,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through the dust and shadow of things<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will the fleeing Fates with their wild manes bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">These tribes of slaves and kings?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FAYS" id="FAYS"></a>Fays</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One secret night, I stood where ocean pours<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eternal waters on the yellow shores,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw the drift of fays that Prosper saw:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Their feet had no more sound than blowing straw.)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And little hands held light in little hands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They chased a fleeing billow down the sands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But turned in the nick o’ time, and mad with glee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raced back again before the swelling sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_DEATH_VALLEY" id="IN_DEATH_VALLEY"></a>In Death Valley</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around were heaps of ruins piled between<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One pillar rose up dark against the moon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was a nameless Presence everywhere;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the gray soil there was a purple stain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was the mark of some ancestral grief&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grief that began before the ancient Flood.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AT_DAWN" id="AT_DAWN"></a>At Dawn</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Just then the branches lightly stirred....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See, out o’ the apple boughs a bird<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bursts music-mad into the blue abyss:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rothschild would give his gold for this&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wealth of nations, if he knew:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And find a profit in the business, too.)<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FOLLOW_ME" id="FOLLOW_ME"></a>“Follow Me”</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O friend, we never choose the better part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until we set the Cross up in the heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know I can not live until I die&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I am nailed upon it wild and high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sleep in the tomb for a full three days dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With angels at the feet and at the head.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But then in a great brightness I shall rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To walk with stiller feet below the skies.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_POPPY_FIELDS" id="IN_POPPY_FIELDS"></a>In Poppy Fields</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here the poppy hosts assemble:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How they startle, how they tremble!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All their royal hoods unpinned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blow out lightly in the wind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here is gold to labor for;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here is pillage worth a war.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Men that in the cities grind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come! before the heart is blind.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS" id="THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS"></a>The Joy of the Hills</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I ride on the mountain tops, I ride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have found my life and am satisfied.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onward I ride in the blowing oats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Checking the field-lark’s rippling notes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lightly I sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From steep to steep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over my head through the branches high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come glimpses of a rushing sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tall oats brush my horse’s flanks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bee booms out of the scented grass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A jay laughs with me as I pass.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Life’s hoard of regret&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All the terror and pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the chafing chain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Grind on, O cities, grind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I leave you a blur behind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am lifted elate&mdash;the skies expand:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here the world’s heaped gold is a pile of sand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let them weary and work in their narrow walls:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ride with the voices of waterfalls!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I swing on as one in a dream&mdash;I swing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down the airy hollows, I shout, I sing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world is gone like an empty word:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My body’s a bough in the wind, my heart a bird!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE" id="THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE"></a>The Invisible Bride</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The low-voiced girls that go<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In gardens of the Lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like flowers of the field they grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In sisterly accord.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their whispering feet are white<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Along the leafy ways;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They go in whirls of light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too beautiful for praise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in their band forsooth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is one to set me free&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one that touched my youth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The one God gave to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She kindles the desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whereby the gods survive&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The white ideal fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That keeps my soul alive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now at the wondrous hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She leaves her star supreme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And comes in the night’s still power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To touch me with a dream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sibyl of mystery<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On roads beyond our ken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softly she comes to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And goes to God again.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_VALLEY" id="THE_VALLEY"></a>The Valley</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know a valley in the summer hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haunted by little winds and daffodils;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faint footfalls and soft shadows pass at noon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Noiseless, at night, the clouds assemble there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ghostly summits hang below the moon&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dim visions lightly swung in silent air.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE" id="THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE"></a>The Climb of Life</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There’s a feel of all things flowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And no power of Earth can bind them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There’s a sense of all things growing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through all their forms a-glowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shaping souls behind them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the break of beauty heightens<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the swiftening of the motion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the soul behind it lightens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a gleam of splendor whitens<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From a running wave of ocean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See the still hand of the Shaper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Moving in the dusk of being:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burns at first a misty taper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the moon in veil of vapor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the rack of night is fleeing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the stone a dream is sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Just a tinge of life, a tremor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the tree a soul is creeping&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last, a rush of angels sweeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the skies beyond the dreamer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So the Lord of Life is flinging<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out a splendor that conceals Him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the God is softly singing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on secret ways is winging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the rush of song reveals Him.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_TRAGEDY" id="THE_TRAGEDY"></a>The Tragedy</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the fret of the brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the wounds and the worry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the thought of love and the thought of death&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the soul in its silent hurry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the stars break above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the fields flower under;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the tragical life of man goes on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Surrounded by beauty and wonder.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="DIVINE_VISION" id="DIVINE_VISION"></a>Divine Vision</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Can it be the Master knows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the Cosmic Blossom blows?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, at times the Lord of Light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breaks forth wonderful and white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He strikes a corded lyre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a rush of whirlwind fire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He sees before Him pass<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Souls and planets in a glass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And within the music hears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the motions of all spheres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the whispers of all feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries of triumph and retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Songs of systems and of souls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Circling to their mighty goals.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So the Lord of Light beholds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the Cosmic Flower unfolds.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MIDSUMMER_NOON" id="MIDSUMMER_NOON"></a>Midsummer Noon</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yonder a workman, under the cool bridge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resting at mid-day, watches the glancing midge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While twinkling lights and murmurs of the stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pass into the dim fabric of his dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The misty hollows and the drowsy ridge&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How like an airy fantasy they seem.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW" id="ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW"></a>One Life, One Law</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What do we know&mdash;what need we know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the great world to which we go?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We peer into the tomb, and hark:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its walls are dim, its doors are dark.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Be still, O mourning heart, nor seek<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make the tongueless silence speak:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be still, be strong, nor wish to find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their way who leave the world behind&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Voices and forms forever gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the darkness of the dawn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What is their wisdom, clear and deep?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That as men sow they surely reap,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That every thought, that every deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sown into the soul for seed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They have no word we do not know,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet the cherubim aglow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With God: we know that virtue saves,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know no more beyond the graves.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="GRIEFS" id="GRIEFS"></a>Griefs</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The rains of winter scourged the weald,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For days they darkened on the field:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, where the wings of winter beat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poppies ripple in the wheat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And pitiless griefs came thick and fast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life’s bough was naked in the blast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till silently amid the gloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They blew the wintry heart to bloom.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AN_OLD_ROAD" id="AN_OLD_ROAD"></a>An Old Road</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A host of poppies, a flight of swallows;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flurry of rain, and a wind that follows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shepherds the leaves in the sheltered hollows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the forest is shaken and thinned.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Over my head are the firs for rafter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crows blow south, and my heart goes after;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I kiss my hands to the world with laughter&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is it Aidenn or mystical Ind?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the whirl of the fields in the windy weather!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the barley breaks and blows together!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, glad is the free bird afloat on the heather&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, the whole world is glad of the wind!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_NEW-COMERS" id="THE_NEW-COMERS"></a>The New-Comers</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two swallows&mdash;each preening a long glossy feather;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now they gossip and dart through the silvery weather;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, praise to the Highest&mdash;two lovers together&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Free, free in the fathomless world of air.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No fate to oppose and no fortune to sunder;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blue sky overhead&mdash;green sky breaking under;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their home on the cliff in the midst of the wonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hung high beyond fear on the gray granite stair.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MUSIC" id="MUSIC"></a>Music</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It is the last appeal to man&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Voice crying since the world began;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cry of the Ideal&mdash;cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To aspirations that would die.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last appeal! in it is heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pathos of the final word.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Voice tender and heroical&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imperious voice that knoweth well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wreck the reasonings of years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To strengthen rebel hearts with tears.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FAY_SONG" id="FAY_SONG"></a>Fay Song</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My life is a dream&mdash;a dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the moon’s cool beam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some day I shall wake and desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A touch of the infinite fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now ’tis enough that I be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the light of the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enough that I climb with the cloud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the winds of the morning are loud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enough that I fade with the stars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the door of the East unbars.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_OLD_EARTH" id="THE_OLD_EARTH"></a>The Old Earth</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How will it be if there we find no traces&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There in the Golden Heaven&mdash;if we find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No memories of the old Earth left behind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No visions of familiar forms and faces&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reminders of old voices and old places?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet could we bear it if it should remind?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="DIVINE_ADVENTURE" id="DIVINE_ADVENTURE"></a>Divine Adventure</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At times a youth (so whispered legend tells),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Hylas, stoops to drink<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By forest-hidden brink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fair hands draw him down to darkened wells;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair hands that hold him fast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With laughter at the last<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have power to draw him lightly down to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In elfin chambers under the gray sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I, O men of Earth, I too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When dawn was at the dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was drawn as Hylas downward and beheld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spirits of youth and eld&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was swung down endless caverns to the deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw fervid jewels sparkle in their sleep,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw glad gnomes working in the dusty light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw great rocks crouching in the primal night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I was drawn down, and after many days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returned with stiller feet to walk the upper ways.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SONG_MADE_FLESH" id="SONG_MADE_FLESH"></a>Song Made Flesh</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have no glory in these songs of mine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If one of them can make a brother strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It came down from the peaks of the divine&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I heard it in the Heaven of Lyric Song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The one who builds the poem into fact,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He is the rightful owner of it all:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pale words are with God’s own power packed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When brave souls answer to their buglecall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so I ask no man to praise my song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But I would have him build it in his soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that great praise would make me glad and strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And build the poem to a perfect whole.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS" id="TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS"></a>To High-born Poets</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A cry from the toilers of Babylon for their rest.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Poet, thou art holden with a vow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The light of higher worlds is on thy brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Freedom’s star is soaring in thy breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go, be a dauntless voice, a bugle-cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In darkening battle when the winds are high&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A clear sane cry wherein the God is heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To speak to men the one redeeming word.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No peace for thee, no peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till blind oppression cease;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The stones cry from the walls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the gray injustice falls&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till strong men come to build in freedom-fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pillars of the new Fraternal State.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Let trifling pipe be mute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fling by the languid lute:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take down the trumpet and confront the Hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And speak to toil-worn nations from a tower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take down the horn wherein the thunders sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blow battles into men&mdash;call down the fire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The daring, the long purpose, the desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Descend with faith into the Human Deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ringing to the troops of right a cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make known the Truth of Man in holy fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Send forth thy spirit in a storm of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A tempest flinging fire upon the wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_TOILERS" id="THE_TOILERS"></a>The Toilers</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their blind feet drift in the darkness, and no one is leading;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their toil is the pasture, where hyens and harpies are feeding;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all lands and always, the wronged, the homeless, the humbled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the cliff-like pride of the spoiler is shaken and crumbled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the Pillars of Hell are uprooted and left to their ruin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a rose-garden gladdens the places no rose ever blew in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where now men huddle together and whisper and harken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or hold their bleak hands over embers that die out and darken.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The anarchies gather and thunder: few, few are the fraters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loud is the revel at night in the camp of the traitors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, Shelley, where are you&mdash;where are you? our hearts are a-breaking!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fight in the terrible darkness&mdash;the shame&mdash;the forsaking!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The leaves shower down and are sport for the winds that come after;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so are the Toilers in all lands the jest and the laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of nobles&mdash;the Toilers scourged on in the furrow as cattle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or flung as a meat to the cannons that hunger in battle.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT" id="ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT"></a>On the Gulf of Night</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The world’s sad petrels dwell for evermore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On windy headland or on ocean floor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or pierce the violent skies with perilous flights<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fret men in their palaces o’ nights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breaking enchanted slumber’s easeful boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shudderings of their wild and dolorous note;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They blow about the black and barren skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fill the night with ineffectual cries.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is for them not anything before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sound of sea and sight of soundless shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save when the darkness glimmers with a ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Hope sings softly, <i>Soon it will be day</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then for a golden space the shades are thinned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dawn seems blowing seaward on the wind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon the dark comes wilder than before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swift around them breaks a sullen roar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tempest calls to windward and to lea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And&mdash;they are seabirds on the homeless sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_HARVEST_SONG" id="A_HARVEST_SONG"></a>A Harvest Song</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The gray bulk of the granaries uploom against the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The harvest moon has dwindled&mdash;they have housed the corn and rye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now the idle reapers lounge against the bolted doors:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without are hungry harvesters, within enchanted stores.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo, they had bread while they were out a-toiling in the sun:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now they are strolling beggars, for the harvest work is done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are the gods of husbandry: they gather in the sheaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when the autumn strips the wood, they’re drifting with the leaves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They plow and sow and gather in the glory of the corn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know the noon, they know the pitiless rains before the morn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know the sweep of furrowed fields that darken in the gloom&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little while their hope on earth, then evermore the tomb.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TWO_TAVERNS" id="TWO_TAVERNS"></a>Two Taverns</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I remember how I lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a bank a summer day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peering into weed and flower:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watched a poppy all one hour;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watched it till the air grew chill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the darkness of the hill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I saw a wild bee dart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the cold to the poppy’s heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw the petals gently spin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shut the little lodger in.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I took the quiet road<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my own secure abode.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All night long his tavern hung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now it rested, now it swung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I asleep in steadfast tower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He asleep in stirring flower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In our hearts the same delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the hushes of the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over us both the same dear care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As we slumbered unaware.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE" id="THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE"></a>The Man under the Stone</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I see a workingman with mouths to feed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up, day after day, in the dark before the dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And coming home, night after night, through the dusk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swinging forward like some fierce silent animal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see a man doomed to roll a huge stone up an endless steep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He strains it onward inch by stubborn inch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crouched always in the shadow of the rock....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See where he crouches, twisted, cramped, misshapen!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lifts for their life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The veins knot and darken&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blood surges into his face....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now he loses&mdash;now he wins&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now he loses&mdash;loses&mdash;(God of my soul!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He digs his feet into the earth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There’s a moment of terrified effort.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will the huge stone break his hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crush him as it plunges to the gulf?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The silent struggle goes on and on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like two contending in a dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER" id="SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER"></a>Song to the Divine Mother<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come, Mighty Mother, from the bright abode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lift the low heavens and hush the Earth again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come when the moon throws down a shining road<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the sea&mdash;come back to weary men.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But if the moon throws out across the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too dim a light, too wavering a way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come when the sunset paves a path for Thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the waters fading into gray.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dead nations saw Thee dimly in release&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Aphrodite rising from the foam:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some glimmer of Thy beauty was on Greece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some trembling of Thy passion was on Rome.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For ages Thou hast been the dim desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That warmed the bridal chamber of the mind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come burning through the heavens with Holy Fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And spread divine contagion on mankind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come down, O Mother, to the helpless land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That we may frame our Freedom into Fate:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come down, and on the throne of nations stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That we may build Thy beauty in the State.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come shining in upon our daily road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Uphold the hero heart and light the mind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quicken the strong to lift the People’s load,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bring back buried justice to mankind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shine through the frame of nations for a light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Move through the hearts of heroes in a song:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is Thy beauty, wilder than the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That hushed the heavens and keeps the high gods strong.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know, Supernal Woman, Thou dost seek<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No song of man, no worship and no praise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thou wouldst have dead lips begin to speak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And dead feet rise to walk immortal ways.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet listen, Mighty Mother, to the child<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who has no voice but song to tell his grief&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nothing but tears and broken numbers wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nothing but woodland music for relief.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His song is but a little broken cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Less than the whisper of a river reed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet thou canst hear in it the souls that die&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Feel in its pain the vastness of our need.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I would not break the mouth of song to tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My life’s long passion and my heart’s long grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Thou canst hear the ocean in one shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And see the whole world’s winter in one leaf.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So here I stand at the world’s weary feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And cry the sorrow of the world’s dumb years:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cry because I hear the world’s heart beat<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weary of hope, weary of life and tears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For ages Thou hast breathèd upon mankind<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A faint wild tenderness, a vague desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ages stilled the whirlwinds of the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sent on lyric seers the rush of fire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And yet the world is held by wintry chain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dead to Thy social passion, Holy One:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dried-up furrows need the vital rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cold seeds the quick spirit of the sun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some day our homeless cries will draw Thee down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the old brightness on the ways of men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will send a hush upon the jangling town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And broken hearts will learn to love again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come, Bride of God, to fill the vacant Throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Touch the dim Earth again with sacred feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come build the Holy City of white stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And let the whole world’s gladness be complete.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come with the face that hushed the heavens of old&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come with Thy maidens in a mist of light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haste for the night falls and the shadows fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And voices cry and wander on the height.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_FLYING_MIST" id="THE_FLYING_MIST"></a>The Flying Mist</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I watch afar the moving Mystery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wool-shod, formless terror of the sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Mystery whose lightest touch can change<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world God made to phantasy, death-strange.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under its spell all things grow old and gray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they will be beyond the Judgment Day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All voices, at the lifting of some hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seem calling to us from another land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it the still Power of the Sepulcher<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That makes all things the wraiths of things that were?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It touches, one by one, the wayside posts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they are gone, a line of hurrying ghosts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It creeps upon the towns with stealthy feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men are phantoms on a phantom street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It strikes the towers and they are shafts of air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the spectres passing in the square.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The city turns to ashes, spire by spire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mountains perish with their peaks afire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fading city and the falling sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are swallowed in one doom without a cry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It tracks the traveler fleeing with the gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fleeing toward home and friends without avail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It springs upon him and he is a ghost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A blurred shape moving on a soundless coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God! it pursues my love along the stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swirls round her and she is forever dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What Hate has touched the universe with eld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left me only in a world dispelled?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD" id="FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD"></a>From the Hand of a Child</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One day a child ran after me in the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give me a half-blown rose, a fire-white rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its stem all warm yet from the tight-shut hand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little gift seemed somehow more to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all men strive for in the turbid towns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all they hoard up through a long wild life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as I breathed the heart-breath of the flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Youth of Earth broke on me like a dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I was with the wide-eyed wondering things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Back in the far forgotten buried time.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lost world came back softly with the rose:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw a glad host follow with lusty cries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Diana flying with her maidens white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down the long reaches of the laureled hills.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the sea I saw a wreath of girls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fading to air in far-off poppy fields.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw a blithe youth take the open road:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His thoughts ran on before him merrily;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes he dipped his feet in stirring brooks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At night he slept upon a bed of boughs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This in my soul. Then suddenly a shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A spectre wearing yet the mask of dust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jostled against me as he passed, and lo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The jarring city and the drift of feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surged back upon me like the grieving sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS" id="AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS"></a>At the Meeting of Seven Valleys</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At the meeting of seven valleys in the west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I came upon a host of silent souls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seated beside still waters on the grass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was a place of memories and tears&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Terrible tears. I rested in a wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there the bird that mourns for Itys sang&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Itys that touched the tears of all the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But climbing onward toward the purple peaks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I passed, on silent feet, white multitudes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond the reach of peering memories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lying asleep upon the scented banks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their bodies burning with celestial fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mighty awe came on me at the thought&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The strangeness of the beatific sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vision of God, the mystic bread of rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_ROCK-BREAKER" id="THE_ROCK-BREAKER"></a>The Rock-Breaker</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pausing he leans upon his sledge, and looks&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A labor-blasted toiler;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So have I seen, on Shasta’s top, a pine<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stand silent on a cliff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stript of its glory of green leaves and boughs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its great trunk split by fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its gray bark blackened by the thunder-smoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its life a sacrifice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To some blind purpose of the destinies.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH" id="THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH"></a>These Songs Will Perish</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">These songs will perish like the shapes of air&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The singer and the songs die out forever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But star-eyed Truth (greater than song or singer)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweeps hurrying on: far off she sees a gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon a peak. She cried to man of old<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build the enduring, glad Fraternal State&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries yet through all the ruins of the world&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through Karnack, through the stones of Babylon&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries for a moment through these fading songs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On wingèd feet, a form of fadeless youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She goes to meet the coming centuries,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, hurrying, snatches up some human reed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blows through it once her terror-bearing note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And breaks and throws away. It is enough<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we can be a bugle at her lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To scatter her contagion on mankind.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTE:</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This song should be read in the light of the deep and
+comforting truth that the Divine Feminine as well as the Divine
+Masculine Principle is in God&mdash;that he is Father-Mother, Two-in-One. It
+follows from this truth that the dignity of womanhood is grounded in the
+Divine Nature itself. The fact that the Deity is Man-Woman was known to
+the ancient poets and sages, and was grafted into the nobler religions
+of mankind. The idea is implied in the doctrine of the Divine Father,
+taught by our Lord in the Gospels; and it is declared in the first
+chapter of Genesis in the words: “God said, ‘Let Us make men in Our
+image, after Our likeness.’ ... So God created man in His own image, in
+the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.”</p></div>
+
+</div>
+<hr class="full" />
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 67012 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The man with the hoe, and other poems, by
+Edwin Markham
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The man with the hoe, and other poems
+
+Author: Edwin Markham
+
+Release Date: December 25, 2021 [eBook #67012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+             http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
+             available at The Internet Archive)
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH THE HOE, AND OTHER
+POEMS ***
+
+
+
+
+                         The Man with the Hoe
+
+
+
+
+                                  TO
+
+                        EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN
+
+                     FIRST TO HAIL AND CAUTION ME
+
+
+
+
+                         The Man with the Hoe
+
+                            AND OTHER POEMS
+
+                                 _By_
+                             EDWIN MARKHAM
+
+                       [Illustration: colophon]
+
+                               NEW YORK
+                      DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE COMPANY
+                                 1899
+
+
+
+
+Prefatory Note
+
+Many of these poems have appeared in _Scribner’s_, _The Century_, _The
+Atlantic_, and the San Francisco _Examiner_, and my thanks are due them
+for permission to republish.
+
+                                                         EDWIN MARKHAM.
+
+OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA.
+
+
+
+
+The Contents
+
+
+The Man with the Hoe                                                  15
+
+A Look into the Gulf                                                  19
+
+Brotherhood                                                           21
+
+Song of the Followers of Pan                                          22
+
+Little Brothers of the Ground                                         23
+
+Wail of the Wandering Dead                                            25
+
+A Prayer                                                              28
+
+The Poet                                                              30
+
+The Whirlwind Road                                                    32
+
+The Desire of Nations                                                 33
+
+The Elf Child                                                         39
+
+The Goblin Laugh                                                      40
+
+Poetry                                                                41
+
+A Meeting                                                             42
+
+Infinite Depths                                                       43
+
+A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book                                     44
+
+The Paymaster                                                         46
+
+The Last Furrow                                                       47
+
+In the Storm                                                          49
+
+After Reading Shakspere                                               50
+
+The Hidden Valley                                                     52
+
+The Poets                                                             53
+
+Love’s Vigil                                                          54
+
+Two at a Fireside                                                     56
+
+The Butterfly                                                         57
+
+To William Watson                                                     58
+
+Keats A-Dying                                                         59
+
+Man                                                                   60
+
+The Cricket                                                           61
+
+In High Sierras                                                       62
+
+The Wharf of Dreams                                                   63
+
+To Louise Michel                                                      65
+
+Shepherd Boy and Nereid                                               66
+
+A Song at the Start                                                   68
+
+My Comrade                                                            70
+
+A Lyric of the Dawn                                                   71
+
+Joy of the Morning                                                    80
+
+Youth and Time                                                        81
+
+A Satyr Song                                                          83
+
+A Cry in the Night                                                    84
+
+Fays                                                                  85
+
+In Death Valley                                                       86
+
+At Dawn                                                               87
+
+“Follow Me”                                                           88
+
+In Poppy Fields                                                       89
+
+The Joy of the Hills                                                  90
+
+The Invisible Bride                                                   92
+
+The Valley                                                            94
+
+The Climb of Life                                                     95
+
+The Tragedy                                                           97
+
+Divine Vision                                                         98
+
+Midsummer Noon                                                        99
+
+One Life, One Law                                                    100
+
+Griefs                                                               101
+
+An Old Road                                                          102
+
+The New Comers                                                       103
+
+Music                                                                104
+
+Fay Song                                                             105
+
+The Old Earth                                                        106
+
+Divine Adventure                                                     107
+
+Song Made Flesh                                                      109
+
+To High-born Poets                                                   110
+
+The Toilers                                                          112
+
+On the Gulf of Night                                                 114
+
+A Harvest Song                                                       116
+
+Two Taverns                                                          118
+
+The Man under the Stone                                              119
+
+Song to the Divine Mother                                            121
+
+The Flying Mist                                                      127
+
+From the Hand of a Child                                             129
+
+At the Meeting of Seven Valleys                                      131
+
+The Rock-Breaker                                                     132
+
+These Songs Will Perish                                              133
+
+
+
+
+The Man with the Hoe
+
+
+
+
+The Man with the Hoe
+
+_Written after seeing Millet’s World-Famous Painting_
+
+    God made man in His own image,
+    in the image of God made He him.--_Genesis._
+
+
+    Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
+    Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
+    The emptiness of ages in his face,
+    And on his back the burden of the world.
+    Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
+    A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,
+    Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
+    Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
+    Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
+    Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
+
+    Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
+    To have dominion over sea and land;
+    To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
+    To feel the passion of Eternity?
+    Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
+    And pillared the blue firmament with light?
+    Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf
+    There is no shape more terrible than this--
+    More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed--
+    More filled with signs and portents for the soul--
+    More fraught with menace to the universe.
+
+    What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
+    Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
+    Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?
+    What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
+    The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
+    Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
+    Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;
+    Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
+    Plundered, profaned and disinherited,
+    Cries protest to the Judges of the World,
+    A protest that is also prophecy.
+
+    O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
+    Is this the handiwork you give to God,
+    This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
+    How will you ever straighten up this shape;
+    Touch it again with immortality;
+    Give back the upward looking and the light;
+    Rebuild in it the music and the dream;
+    Make right the immemorial infamies,
+    Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
+
+    O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
+    How will the Future reckon with this Man?
+    How answer his brute question in that hour
+    When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world?
+    How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--
+    With those who shaped him to the thing he is--
+    When this dumb Terror shall reply to God,
+    After the silence of the centuries?
+
+
+
+
+A Look into the Gulf
+
+
+    I looked one night, and there Semiramis,
+    With all her mourning doves about her head,
+    Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell,
+    Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon
+    Snatches of song they sang to her of old
+    Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh.
+    And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh:
+    “The bugles! they are crying back again--
+    Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon,
+    And then went crying on through Nineveh.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill!
+    Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen,
+    A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell
+    Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread
+    Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers:
+    Assyria goes by upon the wind!”
+    And so she babbles by the ancient road,
+    While cities turned to dust upon the Earth
+    Rise through her whirling brain to live again--
+    Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead
+    Her weary lips beat on without a sound.
+
+
+
+
+Brotherhood
+
+
+      The crest and crowning of all good,
+      Life’s final star, is Brotherhood;
+      For it will bring again to Earth
+      Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;
+      Will send new light on every face,
+      A kingly power upon the race.
+      And till it come, we men are slaves,
+    And travel downward to the dust of graves.
+
+      Come, clear the way, then, clear the way:
+      Blind creeds and kings have had their day.
+      Break the dead branches from the path:
+      Our hope is in the aftermath--
+      Our hope is in heroic men,
+      Star-led to build the world again.
+      To this Event the ages ran:
+    Make way for Brotherhood--make way for Man.
+
+
+
+
+Song of the Followers of Pan
+
+
+    Our bursting bugles blow apart
+      The gates of cities as we go;
+    We bring the music of the heart
+      From secret wells in Lillimo’.
+
+    We break in music on the morns--
+      Sing of the flower to stirring roots;
+    Apollo’s cry is in the horns,
+      And Hermes’ whisper in the flutes.
+
+    We come with laughter to the Earth,
+      And lightly stir the heading wheat:
+    Our God is Poesy and Mirth,
+      And loves the noise of woodland feet.
+
+    When dancers beat the air to sound,
+      After the time of yellow sheaves,
+    He stops to watch the merry round,
+      His pleased face looking through the leaves.
+
+
+
+
+Little Brothers of the Ground
+
+
+    Little ants in leafy wood,
+    Bound by gentle Brotherhood,
+    While ye gaily gather spoil,
+    Men are ground by the wheel of toil;
+    While ye follow Blessed Fates,
+    Men are shriveled up with hates;
+    Or they lie with sheeted Lust,
+    And they eat the bitter dust.
+
+    Ye are fraters in your hall,
+    Gay and chainless, great and small;
+    All are toilers in the field,
+    All are sharers in the yield.
+    But we mortals plot and plan
+    How to grind the fellow-man;
+    Glad to find him in a pit,
+    If we get some gain of it.
+    So with us, the sons of Time,
+    Labor is a kind of crime,
+    For the toilers have the least,
+    While the idlers lord the feast.
+    Yes, our workers they are bound,
+    Pallid captives to the ground;
+    Jeered by traitors, fooled by knaves,
+    Till they stumble into graves.
+
+    How appears to tiny eyes
+    All this wisdom of the wise?
+
+
+
+
+Wail of the Wandering Dead
+
+
+    Death, too, is a chimera and betrays,
+      And yet they promised we should enter rest;
+    Death is as empty as the cup of days,
+      And bitter milk is in her wintry breast.
+
+    There is no worth in any world to come,
+      Nor any in the world we left behind;
+    And what remains of all our masterdom?--
+      Only a cry out of the crumbling mind.
+
+    We played all comers at the old Gray Inn,
+      But played the King of Players to our cost.
+    We played Him fair and had no chance to win:
+      The dice of God were loaded and we lost.
+
+    We wander, wander, and the nights come down
+      With starless darkness and the rush of rains;
+    We drift as phantoms by the songless town,
+      We drift as litter on the windy lanes.
+
+    Hope is the fading vision of the heart,
+      A mocking spirit throwing up wild hands.
+    She led us on with music at the start,
+      To leave us at dead fountains in the sands.
+
+    Now all our days are but a cry for sleep,
+      For we are weary of the petty strife.
+    Is there not somewhere in the endless deep
+      A place where we can lose the feel of life?
+
+    Where we can be as senseless as the dust
+      The night wind blows about a dried-up well?
+    Where there is no more labor, no more lust,
+      Nor any flesh to feel the Tooth of Hell?
+
+    Our feet are ever sliding, and we seem
+      As old and weary as the pyramids.
+    Come, God of Ages, and dispel the dream,
+      Fold the worn hands and close the sinking lids.
+
+    There is no new road for the dead to take:
+      Wild hearts are we among the worlds astray--
+    Wild hearts are we that cannot wholly break,
+      But linger on though life has gone away.
+
+    We are the sons of Misery and Eld:
+      Come, tender Death, with all your hushing wings,
+    And let our broken spirits be dispelled--
+      Let dead men sink into the dusk of things.
+
+
+
+
+A Prayer
+
+
+    Teach me, Father, how to go
+    Softly as the grasses grow;
+    Hush my soul to meet the shock
+    Of the wild world as a rock;
+    But my spirit, propt with power,
+    Make as simple as a flower.
+    Let the dry heart fill its cup,
+    Like a poppy looking up;
+    Let life lightly wear her crown,
+    Like a poppy looking down,
+    When its heart is filled with dew,
+    And its life begins anew.
+
+    Teach me, Father, how to be
+    Kind and patient as a tree.
+    Joyfully the crickets croon
+    Under shady oak at noon;
+    Beetle, on his mission bent,
+    Tarries in that cooling tent.
+    Let me, also, cheer a spot,
+    Hidden field or garden grot--
+    Place where passing souls can rest
+    On the way and be their best.
+
+
+
+
+The Poet
+
+
+    His home is in the heights: to him
+    Men wage a battle weird and dim,
+    Life is a mission stern as fate,
+    And Song a dread apostolate.
+    The toils of prophecy are his,
+    To hail the coming centuries--
+    To ease the steps and lift the load
+    Of souls that falter on the road.
+    The perilous music that he hears
+    Falls from the vortice of the spheres.
+
+    He presses on before the race,
+    And sings out of a silent place.
+    Like faint notes of a forest bird
+    On heights afar that voice is heard;
+    And the dim path he breaks to-day
+    Will some time be a trodden way.
+    But when the race comes toiling on
+    That voice of wonder will be gone--
+    Be heard on higher peaks afar,
+    Moved upward with the morning star.
+
+    O men of earth, that wandering voice
+    Still goes the upward way: rejoice!
+
+
+
+
+The Whirlwind Road
+
+
+    The Muses wrapped in mysteries of light
+    Came in a rush of music on the night;
+    And I was lifted wildly on quick wings,
+    And borne away into the deep of things.
+    The dead doors of my being broke apart;
+    A wind of rapture blew across the heart;
+    The inward song of worlds rang still and clear;
+    I felt the Mystery the Muses fear;
+    Yet they went swiftening on the ways untrod,
+    And hurled me breathless at the feet of God.
+
+    I felt faint touches of the Final Truth--
+    Moments of trembling love, moments of youth.
+    A vision swept away the human wall;
+    Slowly I saw the meaning of it all--
+    Meaning of life and time and death and birth,
+    But can not tell it to the men of Earth.
+    I only point the way, and they must go
+    The whirlwind road of song if they would know.
+
+
+
+
+The Desire of Nations
+
+     And the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall
+     be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The ever-lasting
+     Father, The Prince of Peace.--_Isaiah._
+
+
+    Earth will go back to her lost youth,
+    And life grow deep and wonderful as truth,
+    When the wise King out of the nearing heaven comes
+    To break the spell of long millenniums--
+    To build with song again
+    The broken hope of men--
+    To hush and heroize the world,
+    Beneath the flag of Brotherhood unfurled.
+    And He will come some day:
+    Already is His star upon the way!
+    He comes, O world, He comes!
+    But not with bugle-cry nor roll of doubling drums.
+
+    Nay, for He comes to loosen and unbind,
+    To build the lofty purpose in the mind,
+    To stir the heart’s deep chord....
+    No rude horns parleying, no shock of shields;
+    Nor as of old the glory of the Lord
+    To half-awakened shepherds in the fields,
+    Looking with foolish faces on the rush
+    Of the Great Splendor, when the pulsing hush
+    Came o’er the hills, came o’er the heavens afar
+    Where on their cliff of stars the watching seraphs are.
+
+    Nor as of old when first the Strong One trod,
+    The Power of sepulchers--our Risen God!
+    When on that deathless morning in the dark,
+    He quit the Garden of the Sepulcher,
+    Setting the oleander boughs astir,
+    And pausing at the gate with backward hark.--
+    Nay, nor as when the Hero-King of Heaven
+    Came with upbraiding to His faint eleven,
+    And found the world-way to His bright feet barred,
+    And hopeless then because men’s hearts were hard.
+
+    Nor will He come like carnal kings of old,
+    With pomp of pilfered gold;
+    Nor like the pharisees with pride of prayer;
+    Nor as the stumbling foolish stewards dream
+    In tedious argument and fruitless creed,
+    But in the passion of the heart-warm deed
+    Will come the Man Supreme.
+    Yea, for He comes to lift the Public Care--
+    To build on Earth the Vision hung in air.
+    This is the one fulfillment of His Law--
+    The one Fact in the mockeries that seem.
+    This is the Vision that the prophets saw--
+    The Comrade Kingdom builded in their dream.
+
+    No, not as in that elder day
+    Comes now the King upon the human way.
+    He comes with power: His white unfearing face
+    Shines through the Social Passion of the race.
+    He comes to frame the freedom of the Law,
+    To touch these men of Earth
+    With feeling of life’s oneness and its worth,
+    A feeling of its mystery and awe.
+
+    And when He comes into the world gone wrong,
+    He will rebuild her beauty with a song.
+    To every heart He will its own dream be:
+    One moon has many phantoms in the sea.
+    Out of the North the norns will cry to men:
+    “Balder the Beautiful has come again!”
+    The flutes of Greece will whisper from the dead:
+    “Apollo has unveiled his sunbright head!”
+    The stones of Thebes and Memphis will find voice:
+    “Osiris comes: O tribes of Time, rejoice!”
+    And social architects who build the State,
+    Serving the Dream at citadel and gate,
+    Will hail Him coming through the labor-hum.
+    And glad quick cries will go from man to man:
+    “Lo, He has come, our Christ the Artisan--
+    The King who loved the lilies, He has come!”
+
+    He will arrive, our Counselor and Chief.
+    And with bleak faces lighted up will come
+    The earth-worn mothers from their martyrdom,
+    To tell Him of their grief.
+    And glad girls caroling from field and town
+    Will go to meet Him with the labor-crown,
+    The new crown woven of the heading wheat.
+    And men will sit down at His sacred feet;
+    And He will say--the King--
+    “Come, let us live the poetry we sing!”
+    And these, His burning words, will break the ban--
+    Words that will grow to be,
+    On continent, on sea,
+    The rallying cry of man....
+
+    He comes to make the long injustice right--
+    Comes to push back the shadow of the night,
+    The gray Tradition full of flint and flaw--
+    Comes to wipe out the insults to the soul,
+    The insults of the Few against the Whole,
+    The insults they make righteous with a law.
+
+    Yea, He will bear the Safety of the State,
+    For in his still and rhythmic steps will be
+    The power and music of Alcyone,
+    Who holds the swift heavens in their starry fate.
+    Yea, He will lay on souls the power of peace,
+    And send on kingdoms torn the sense of Home--
+    More than the fire of Joy that burned on Greece,
+    More than the light of Law that rose on Rome.
+
+
+
+
+The Elf Child
+
+
+    I am a child of the reef and the blowing spray,
+      And all my heart goes wildly to the sea.
+      I am a changeling: can you follow me
+    Through hill and hollow on the wind’s dim way?
+    Yes, at the break of a tempestuous day
+      They bore me to the land through starless storm,
+      And laid me in the pillow sweetly warm
+    And broken by the first one’s little stay.
+
+    The elf kings found me on an ocean reef,
+    A lyric child of mystery and grief.
+      Then need I tell you why the trembling start--
+    Why in my song the sound of ocean dwells--
+    Why the quick gladness when the billow swells,
+      As though remembered voices called the heart?
+
+
+
+
+The Goblin Laugh
+
+
+    When I behold how men and women grind
+      And grovel for some place of pomp or power,
+      To shine and circle through a crumbling hour,
+    Forgetting the large mansions of the mind,
+    That are the rest and shelter of mankind;
+      And when I see them come with wearied brains
+      Pallid and powerless to enjoy their gains,
+    I seem to hear a goblin laugh unwind.
+
+    And then a memory sends upon its billow
+      Thoughts of a singer wise enough to play,
+      Who took life as a lightsome holiday:
+    Oft have I seen him make his arm a pillow,
+    Drink from his hand, and with a pipe of willow
+      Blow a wild music down a woodland way.
+
+
+
+
+Poetry
+
+
+    She comes as hush and beauty of the night,
+      And sees too deep for laughter;
+    Her touch is a vibration and a light
+      From worlds before and after.
+
+
+
+
+A Meeting
+
+
+    Softly she came one twilight from the dead,
+      And in the passionate silence of her look
+      Was more than man has writ in any book:
+    And now my thoughts are restless, and a dread
+    Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted;
+      For down the leafy ways her white feet took,
+      Lightly the newly broken roses shook--
+    Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head?
+
+    God! was it joy or sorrow in her face--
+      That quiet face? Had it grown old or young?
+      Was it sweet memory or sad that stung
+    Her voiceless soul to wander from its place?
+    What do the dead find in the Silence--grace?
+      Or endless grief for which there is no tongue?
+
+
+
+
+Infinite Depths
+
+
+    The little pool, in street or field apart,
+      Glasses deep heavens and the rushing storm;
+    And into silent depths of every heart,
+      The Eternal throws its awful shadow-form.
+
+
+
+
+A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book
+
+
+    Beside the sewing-table chained and bent,
+      They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud--
+      For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;
+    They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rent
+    Torn in life’s golden curtains. Glad Youth went,
+      And left them alone with Time; and now if bowed
+      With burdens they should sob and cry aloud,--
+    Wondering, the rich would look from their content.
+
+    And so this glimmering life at last recedes
+      In unknown, endless depths beyond recall;
+    And what’s the worth of all our ancient creeds,
+      If here at the end of ages this is all--
+      A white face floating in the whirling ball,
+    A dead face plashing in the river reeds?
+
+
+
+
+The Paymaster
+
+
+    There is a sacred Something on all ways--
+      Something that watches through the Universe;
+    One that remembers, reckons and repays,
+      Giving us love for love, and curse for curse.
+
+
+
+
+The Last Furrow
+
+
+    The Spirit of Earth, with still restoring hands,
+      ’Mid ruin moves, in glimmering chasm gropes,
+      And mosses mantle and the bright flower opes;
+    But Death the Ploughman wanders in all lands,
+    And to the last of Earth his furrow stands.
+      The grave is never hidden; fearful hopes
+    Follow the dead upon the fading slopes,
+      And there wild memories meet upon the sands.
+
+    When willows fling their banners to the plain,
+      When rumor of winds and sound of sudden showers
+    Disturb the dream of winter--all in vain
+      The grasses hurry to the graves, the flowers
+      Toss their wild torches on their windy towers;
+    Yet are the bleak graves lonely in the rain.
+
+
+
+
+In the Storm
+
+
+    I huddled close against the mighty cliff.
+    A sense of safety and of brotherhood
+    Broke on the heart: the shelter of a rock
+    Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world.
+
+
+
+
+After Reading Shakspere
+
+
+    Blithe Fancy lightly builds with airy hands
+      Or on the edges of the darkness peers,
+      Breathless and frightened at the Voice she hears:
+    Imagination (lo! the sky expands)
+    Travels the blue arch and Cimmerian sands,--
+      Homeless on earth, the pilgrim of the spheres,
+      The rush of light before the hurrying years,
+    The Voice that cries in unfamiliar lands.
+
+    Men weigh the moons that flood with eerie light
+      The dusky vales of Saturn--wood and stream;
+    But who shall follow on the awful sweep
+    Of Neptune through the dim and dreadful deep?
+    Onward he wanders in the unknown night,
+    And we are shadows moving in a dream.
+
+
+
+
+The Hidden Valley
+
+
+    I stray with Ariel and Caliban:
+      I know the hill of windy pines--I know
+      Where the jay’s nest swings in the wild gorge below:
+    Lightly I climb where fallen cedars span
+    Bright rivers--climb to a valley under ban,
+      Where west winds set a thousand bells ablow--
+      An eerie valley where in the morning glow
+    I hear the music of the pipes of Pan.
+
+    Mysterious horns blow by on the still air--
+      A satyr steps--a wood-god’s dewy notes
+      Come faintly from a vale of tossing oats.--
+    But ho! what white thing in the canyon crossed?
+    Gods! I shall come on Dian unaware,
+    Look on her fearful beauty and be lost.
+
+
+
+
+The Poets
+
+
+    Some cry of Sappho’s lyre, of Saadi’s flute,
+      Comes back across the waste of mortal things:
+    Men strive and die to reach the Dead Sea fruit--
+      Only the poets find immortal springs.
+
+
+
+
+Love’s Vigil
+
+
+    Love will outwatch the stars, and light the skies
+      When the last star falls, and the silent dark devours;
+      God’s warrior, he will watch the allotted hours,
+    And conquer with the look of his sad eyes:
+    He shakes the kingdom of darkness with his sighs,
+      His quiet sighs, while all the Infernal Powers
+      Tremble and pale upon their central towers,
+    Lest, haply, his bright universe arise.
+
+    All will be well if he have strength to wait,
+      Till his lost Pleiad, white and silver-shod,
+    Regains her place to make the perfect Seven;
+    Then all the worlds will know that Love is Fate--
+    That somehow he is greater even than Heaven--
+      That in the Cosmic Council he is God.
+
+
+
+
+Two at a Fireside
+
+
+    I built a chimney for a comrade old,
+      I did the service not for hope or hire--
+    And then I traveled on in winter’s cold,
+      Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.
+
+
+
+
+The Butterfly
+
+
+    O wingèd brother on the harebell, stay--
+      Was God’s hand very pitiful, the hand
+      That wrought thy beauty at a dream’s demand?
+
+    _Yea, knowing I love so well the flowery way,_
+    _He did not fling me to the world astray--_
+      _He did not drop me to the weary sand,_
+      _But bore me gently to a leafy land:_
+    _Tinting my wings, He gave me to the day._
+
+    Oh, chide no more my doubting, my despair!
+      I will go back now to the world of men.
+    Farewell, I leave thee to the world of air,
+      Yet thou hast girded up my heart again;
+    For He that framed the impenetrable plan,
+    And keeps His word with thee, will keep with man.
+
+
+
+
+To William Watson
+
+_After reading “The Purple East.”_
+
+
+    That hour you put the wreath of England by
+      To shake her guilty heart with song sublime,
+    The mighty Muse that watches from the sky
+      Laid on your head the larger wreath of Time.
+
+
+
+
+Keats A-Dying
+
+
+    Often of that Last Hour I lie and think;
+      I see thee, Keats, nearing the Deathway dim--
+      See Severn in his noiseless hurry, him
+    Who leaned above thee fading on the brink.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    What is that wild light through the window chink?
+      Is it the burning feet of cherubim?
+      Or is it the white moon on western rim--
+    Saint Agnes’ moon beginning now to sink?
+
+    How did Death come--with sounds of water-stir?
+      With forms of beauty breaking at the lips?
+    With field pipes and the scent of blowing fir?
+      Or came it hurrying like a last eclipse,
+    Sweeping the world away like gossamer,
+      Blotting the moon, the mountains, and the ships?
+
+
+
+
+Man
+
+
+    Out of the deep and endless universe
+    There came a greater Mystery, a Shape,
+    A Something sad, inscrutable, august--
+    One to confront the worlds and question them.
+
+
+
+
+The Cricket
+
+
+    The twilight is the morning of his day,
+      While sleep drops seaward from the fading shore,
+      With purpling sail and dip of silver oar,
+    He cheers the shadowed time with roun-delay,
+    Until the dark east softens into gray.
+      Now as the noisy hours are coming--hark!
+      His song dies gently--it is growing dark--
+    His night, with its one star, is on its way!
+
+    Faintly the light breaks o’er the blowing oats--
+      Sleep, little brother, sleep: I am astir,
+      We worship Song, and servants are of her--
+    I in the bright hours, thou in shadow-time;
+    Lead thou the starlit night with merry notes,
+    And I will lead the clamoring day with rhyme.
+
+
+
+
+In High Sierras
+
+
+    There at a certain hour of the deep night,
+    A gray cliff with a demon face comes up,
+    Wrinkled and old, behind the peaks, and with
+    An anxious look peers at the Zodiac.
+
+
+
+
+The Wharf of Dreams
+
+
+    Strange wares are handled on the wharves of sleep:
+      Shadows of shadows pass, and many a light
+      Flashes a signal fire across the night;
+    Barges depart whose voiceless steersmen keep
+    Their way without a star upon the deep;
+      And from lost ships, homing with ghostly crews,
+      Come cries of incommunicable news,
+    While cargoes pile the piers, a moon-white heap--
+
+    Budgets of dream-dust, merchandise of song,
+    Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong,
+      Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand,
+    Fardels of heartache, burdens of old sins,
+    Luggage sent down from dim ancestral inns,
+      And bales of fantasy from No-Man’s Land.
+
+
+
+
+To Louise Michel
+
+
+    I cannot take your road, Louise Michel,
+      Priestess of Pity and of Vengeance--no:
+      Down that amorphous gulf I cannot go--
+    That gulf of Anarchy whose pit is Hell.
+    Yet, sister, though my first word is farewell,
+      Remember that I know your hidden woe;
+      Have felt the grief that rends you blow on blow;
+    Have knelt beside you in the murky cell.
+
+    You never followed hate (let this atone)
+    Nor knew the wrongs of others from your own:
+      Wild was the road, but Love has always led,
+    So I am silent where I cannot praise;
+    And here now at the parting of the ways,
+      I lay a still hand lightly on your head.
+
+
+
+
+Shepherd Boy and Nereid
+
+
+    Ah, once of old in some forgotten tongue,
+      Forgotten land, I was a shepherd boy,
+      And you a Nereid, a wingèd joy:
+    On through the dawn-bright peaks our bodies swung
+    And flower-soft lyrics by immortals sung
+      Fell from their unseen pinnacles in air:
+      God looked from Heaven that hour, for you were fair,
+    And I a poet, and the star was young.
+
+    You’d heard my woodland pipe and left the sea--
+      Your hair blown gold and all your body white--
+    Had left the ocean-girls to follow me.
+      We joined the hill-nymphs in their joyous flight,
+    And you laughed lightly to the sea, and sent
+    Quick glances flashing through me as I went.
+
+
+
+
+A Song at the Start
+
+
+    Oh, down the quick river our galley is going,
+      With a sound in the cordage, a beam on the sail:
+    The wind of the canyon our loose hair is blowing,
+      And the clouds of the morning are glad of the gale.
+
+    Around the swift prow little billows are breaking,
+      And flinging their foam in a glory of light;
+    Now the shade of a rock on the river is shaking,
+      And a wave leaps high up growing suddenly white.
+
+    The weight of the whole world is light as a feather,
+      And the peaks rise in silence and westerly flee:
+    Oh, the world and the poet are singing together,
+      And from the far cliff comes a sound of the sea.
+
+
+
+
+My Comrade
+
+
+    I never build a song by night or day,
+      Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,
+    But in some wondrous unexpected way,
+      Like light upon a road, my Love comes in.
+
+    And when I go at night upon the hill,
+      My heart is lifted on mysterious wings:
+    My Love is there to strengthen and to still,
+      For she can take away the dread of things.
+
+
+
+
+A Lyric of the Dawn
+
+
+          Alone I list
+      In the leafy tryst;
+    Silent the woodlands in their starry sleep--
+    Silent the phantom wood in waters deep:
+    No footfall of a wind along the pass
+    Startles a harebell--stirs a blade of grass.
+      Yonder the wandering weeds,
+      Enchanted in the light,
+    Stand in the gusty hollows, still and white;
+      Yonder are plumy reeds,
+    Dusking the border of the clear lagoon;
+      Far off the silver clifts
+    Hang in ethereal light below the moon;
+      Far off the ocean lifts,
+    Tossing its billows in the misty beam,
+    And shore-lines whiten, silent as a dream:
+    I hark for the bird, and all the hushed hills harken:
+    This is the valley: here the branches darken
+          The silver-lighted stream.
+
+          Hark--
+      That rapture in the leafy dark!
+    Who is it shouts upon the bough aswing,
+    Waking the upland and the valley under?
+    What carols, like the blazon of a king,
+      Fill all the dawn with wonder?
+          Oh, hush,
+      It is the thrush,
+      In the deep and woody glen!
+    Ah, thus the gladness of the gods was sung,
+      When the old Earth was young;
+      That rapture rang,
+    When the first morning on the mountains sprang:
+    And now he shouts, and the world is young again!
+
+          Carol, my king,
+      On your bough aswing
+    Thou art not of these evil days--
+    Thou art a voice of the world’s lost youth:
+    Oh, tell me what is duty--what is truth--
+    How to find God upon these hungry ways;
+      Tell of the golden prime,
+    When men beheld swift deities descend,
+    Before the race was left alone with Time,
+    Homesick on Earth, and homeless to the end,
+    When bird and beast could make a man their friend;
+      Before great Pan was dead,
+      Before the naiads fled;
+    When maidens white with dark eyes shy and bold,
+    With peals of laughter on the peaks of gold,
+      Startled the still dawn--
+    Shone in upon the mountains and were gone,
+    Their voices fading silverly in depths of forests old.
+
+    Sing of the wonders of their woodland ways,
+    Before the weird earth-hunger of these days,
+      When there was rippling mirth,
+      When justice was on Earth,
+    And light and grandeur of the Golden Age;
+      When never a heart was sad,
+      When all from king to herdsman had
+        A penny for a wage.
+    Ah, that old time has faded to a dream--
+    The moon’s fair face is broken in the stream;
+    Yet shout and carol on, O bird, and let
+    The exiled race not utterly forget;
+    Publish thy revelation on the lawns--
+    Sing ever in the dark ethereal dawns;
+      Sometime, in some sweet year,
+    These stormy souls, these men of Earth may hear.
+
+          But hark again,
+      From the secret glen,
+    That voice of rapture and ethereal youth
+      Now laden with despair.
+      Forbear, O bird, forbear:
+    Is life not terrible enough forsooth?
+      Cease, cease the mystic song--
+    No more, no more, the passion and the pain:
+    It wakes my life to fret against the chain;
+    It makes me think of all the agèd wrong--
+    Of joy and the end of joy and the end of all--
+    Of souls on Earth, and souls beyond recall.
+      Ah, ah, that voice again!
+    It makes me think of all these restless men,
+    Called into time--their progress and their goal;
+      And now, oh now, it sends into my soul
+    Dreams of a love that might have been for me--
+    That might have been--and now can never be.
+
+      Tell me no more of these--
+      Tell me of trancèd trees;
+    (The ghosts, the memories, in pity spare)
+    Show me the leafy home of the wild bees;
+    Show me the snowy summits dim in air;
+      Tell me of things afar
+    In valleys silent under moon and star:
+      Dim hollows hushed with night,
+    The lofty cedars misty in the light,
+      Wild clusters of the vine,
+      Wild odors of the pine,
+    The eagle’s eyrie lifted to the moon--
+    High places where on quiet afternoon
+    A shadow swiftens by, a thrilling scream
+    Startles the cliff, and dies across the woodland to a dream.
+
+          Ha, now
+      He springs from the bough,
+      It flickers--he is lost!
+      Out of the copse he sprang;
+    This is the floating briar where he tossed:
+    The leaves are yet atremble where he sang.
+      Here a long vista opens--look!
+      This is the way he took,
+    Through the pale poplars by the pond:
+    Hark! he is shouting in the field beyond.
+      Ho, there he goes
+      Through the alder close!
+    He leaves me here behind him in his flight,
+    And yet my heart goes with him out of sight!
+      What whispered spell
+    Of Faëry calls me on from dell to dell?
+    I hear the voice--it wanders in a dream--
+    Now in the grove, now on the hill, now on the fading stream.
+
+      Lead on--you know the way--
+          Lead on to Arcady,
+    O’er fields asleep; by river bank abrim;
+    Down leafy ways, dewy and cool and dim;
+    By dripping rocks, dark dwellings of the gnome,
+    Where hurrying waters dash their crests to foam.
+      I follow where you lead,
+    Down winding paths, across the flowery mead,
+    Down silent hollows where the woodbine blows,
+    Up water-courses scented by the rose.
+      I follow the wandering voice--
+      I follow, I rejoice,
+    I fade away into the Age of Gold--
+    We two together lost in forest old.--
+    O ferny and thymy paths, O fields of Aidenn,
+    Canyons and cliffs by mortal feet untrod!
+    O souls that weary and are heavy laden,
+          Here is the peace of God!
+
+    Lo! now the clamoring hours are on the way:
+    Faintly the pine tops redden in the ray;
+    From vale to vale fleet-footed rumors run,
+    With sudden apprehension of the sun;
+        A light wind stirs
+    The filmy tops of delicate dim firs,
+      And on the river border blows,
+    Breaking the shy bud softly to a rose.
+      Sing out, O throstle, sing:
+      I follow on, my king:
+    Lead me forever through the crimson dawn--
+      Till the world ends, lead me on!
+    Ho there! he shouts again--he sways--and now,
+      Upspringing from the bough,
+    Flashing a glint of dew upon the ground,
+      Without a sound
+    He drops into a valley and is gone!
+
+
+
+
+Joy of the Morning
+
+
+    I hear you, little bird,
+    Shouting aswing above the broken wall.
+    Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all.
+    Sing to my soul in the deep still wood:
+    ’Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word:
+    I’d tell it, too, if I could.
+
+    Oft when the white, still dawn
+    Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart,
+    I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart--
+    (The world’s mysterious stir)
+    But had no throat like yours, my bird,
+    Nor such a listener.
+
+
+
+
+Youth and Time
+
+
+    Once, I remember, the world was young;
+    The rills rejoiced with a silver tongue;
+    The field-lark sat in the wheat and sang;
+    The thrush’s shout in the woodland rang;
+    The cliffs and the perilous sands afar
+    Were softened to mist by the morning star;
+    For Youth was with me (I know it now!),
+    And a light shone out from his wreathèd brow.
+    He turned the fields to enchanted ground,
+    He touched the rains with a dreamy sound.
+
+    But alas, he vanished, and Time appeared,
+    The Spirit of Ages, old and weird.
+    He crushed and scattered my beamy wings;
+    He dragged me forth from the court of kings;
+    He gave me doubt and a bloom of beard,
+    This Spirit of Ages, old and weird.
+    The wonder went from the field of corn,
+    The glory died on the craggy horn;
+    And suddenly all was strange and gray,
+    And the rocks came out on the trodden way.
+
+    I hear no more the wild thrush sing:
+    He is silent now on the peach aswing.
+    Something is gone from the house of mirth--
+    Something is gone from the hills of Earth.
+    Time hurries me on with a wizard hand;
+    He turns the Earth to a homeless land;
+    He stays my life with a stingy breath,
+    And darkens its depths with foreknowledge of death;
+    Calls memories back on their path apace;
+    Sends desperate thoughts to the soul’s dim place.
+
+    Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin,
+    And pushes us on to the windowless inn.
+
+
+
+
+A Satyr Song
+
+
+    I know by the stir of the branches
+      The way she went;
+    And at times I can see where a stem
+      Of the grass is bent.
+    She’s the secret and light of my life,
+      She allures to elude;
+    But I follow the spell of her beauty
+      Whatever the mood.
+
+    I have followed all night in the hills,
+      And my breath is deep,
+    But she flies on before like a voice
+      In the vale of sleep.
+    I follow the print of her feet
+      In the wild river bed,
+    And lo, she calls gleefully down
+      From a cliff overhead.
+
+
+
+
+A Cry in the Night
+
+
+    Wail, wail, wail,
+      For the fleering world goes down:
+    Into the song of the poet pale
+      Mixes the laugh of the clown.
+
+    Grim, grim, grim,
+      Is the road we go to the dead;
+    Yet we must on, for a Something dim
+      Pushes the soul ahead.
+
+    Where, where, where,
+      Through the dust and shadow of things
+    Will the fleeing Fates with their wild manes bear
+      These tribes of slaves and kings?
+
+
+
+
+Fays
+
+
+    One secret night, I stood where ocean pours
+    Eternal waters on the yellow shores,
+    And saw the drift of fays that Prosper saw:
+    (Their feet had no more sound than blowing straw.)
+    And little hands held light in little hands
+    They chased a fleeing billow down the sands,
+    But turned in the nick o’ time, and mad with glee
+    Raced back again before the swelling sea.
+
+
+
+
+In Death Valley
+
+
+    There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,
+    Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill,
+    Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.
+    Around were heaps of ruins piled between
+    The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;
+    And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls
+    One pillar rose up dark against the moon.
+    There was a nameless Presence everywhere;
+    In the gray soil there was a purple stain,
+    And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood--
+    Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.
+    It was the mark of some ancestral grief--
+    Grief that began before the ancient Flood.
+
+
+
+
+At Dawn
+
+
+    Just then the branches lightly stirred....
+    See, out o’ the apple boughs a bird
+    Bursts music-mad into the blue abyss:
+    Rothschild would give his gold for this--
+    The wealth of nations, if he knew:
+    (And find a profit in the business, too.)
+
+
+
+
+“Follow Me”
+
+
+    O friend, we never choose the better part,
+    Until we set the Cross up in the heart.
+    I know I can not live until I die--
+    Till I am nailed upon it wild and high,
+    And sleep in the tomb for a full three days dead,
+    With angels at the feet and at the head.
+    But then in a great brightness I shall rise
+    To walk with stiller feet below the skies.
+
+
+
+
+In Poppy Fields
+
+
+    Here the poppy hosts assemble:
+    How they startle, how they tremble!
+    All their royal hoods unpinned
+    Blow out lightly in the wind.
+    Here is gold to labor for;
+    Here is pillage worth a war.
+
+    Men that in the cities grind,
+    Come! before the heart is blind.
+
+
+
+
+The Joy of the Hills
+
+
+    I ride on the mountain tops, I ride;
+    I have found my life and am satisfied.
+    Onward I ride in the blowing oats,
+    Checking the field-lark’s rippling notes--
+      Lightly I sweep
+      From steep to steep:
+    Over my head through the branches high
+    Come glimpses of a rushing sky;
+    The tall oats brush my horse’s flanks;
+    Wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks;
+    A bee booms out of the scented grass;
+    A jay laughs with me as I pass.
+
+    I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget
+      Life’s hoard of regret--
+      All the terror and pain
+      Of the chafing chain.
+
+      Grind on, O cities, grind:
+      I leave you a blur behind.
+    I am lifted elate--the skies expand:
+    Here the world’s heaped gold is a pile of sand.
+    Let them weary and work in their narrow walls:
+    I ride with the voices of waterfalls!
+
+    I swing on as one in a dream--I swing
+    Down the airy hollows, I shout, I sing!
+    The world is gone like an empty word:
+    My body’s a bough in the wind, my heart a bird!
+
+
+
+
+The Invisible Bride
+
+
+    The low-voiced girls that go
+      In gardens of the Lord,
+    Like flowers of the field they grow
+      In sisterly accord.
+
+    Their whispering feet are white
+      Along the leafy ways;
+    They go in whirls of light
+      Too beautiful for praise.
+
+    And in their band forsooth
+      Is one to set me free--
+    The one that touched my youth--
+      The one God gave to me.
+
+    She kindles the desire
+      Whereby the gods survive--
+    The white ideal fire
+      That keeps my soul alive.
+
+    Now at the wondrous hour,
+      She leaves her star supreme,
+    And comes in the night’s still power,
+      To touch me with a dream.
+
+    Sibyl of mystery
+      On roads beyond our ken,
+    Softly she comes to me,
+      And goes to God again.
+
+
+
+
+The Valley
+
+
+    I know a valley in the summer hills,
+    Haunted by little winds and daffodils;
+    Faint footfalls and soft shadows pass at noon;
+    Noiseless, at night, the clouds assemble there;
+    And ghostly summits hang below the moon--
+    Dim visions lightly swung in silent air.
+
+
+
+
+The Climb of Life
+
+
+    There’s a feel of all things flowing,
+      And no power of Earth can bind them;
+    There’s a sense of all things growing,
+    And through all their forms a-glowing
+      Of the shaping souls behind them.
+
+    And the break of beauty heightens
+      With the swiftening of the motion,
+    And the soul behind it lightens,
+    As a gleam of splendor whitens
+      From a running wave of ocean.
+
+    See the still hand of the Shaper,
+      Moving in the dusk of being:
+    Burns at first a misty taper,
+    Like the moon in veil of vapor,
+      When the rack of night is fleeing.
+
+    In the stone a dream is sleeping,
+      Just a tinge of life, a tremor;
+    In the tree a soul is creeping--
+    Last, a rush of angels sweeping
+      With the skies beyond the dreamer.
+
+    So the Lord of Life is flinging
+      Out a splendor that conceals Him:
+    And the God is softly singing
+    And on secret ways is winging,
+      Till the rush of song reveals Him.
+
+
+
+
+The Tragedy
+
+
+    Oh, the fret of the brain,
+      And the wounds and the worry;
+    Oh, the thought of love and the thought of death--
+      And the soul in its silent hurry.
+
+    But the stars break above,
+      And the fields flower under;
+    And the tragical life of man goes on,
+      Surrounded by beauty and wonder.
+
+
+
+
+Divine Vision
+
+
+    Can it be the Master knows
+    How the Cosmic Blossom blows?
+
+    Yes, at times the Lord of Light
+    Breaks forth wonderful and white,
+    And He strikes a corded lyre
+    In a rush of whirlwind fire;
+    And He sees before Him pass
+    Souls and planets in a glass;
+    And within the music hears
+    All the motions of all spheres,
+    All the whispers of all feet,
+    Cries of triumph and retreat,
+    Songs of systems and of souls,
+    Circling to their mighty goals.
+
+    So the Lord of Light beholds
+    How the Cosmic Flower unfolds.
+
+
+
+
+Midsummer Noon
+
+
+    Yonder a workman, under the cool bridge,
+    Resting at mid-day, watches the glancing midge,
+    While twinkling lights and murmurs of the stream
+    Pass into the dim fabric of his dream.
+    The misty hollows and the drowsy ridge--
+    How like an airy fantasy they seem.
+
+
+
+
+One Life, One Law
+
+
+    What do we know--what need we know
+    Of the great world to which we go?
+    We peer into the tomb, and hark:
+    Its walls are dim, its doors are dark.
+
+    Be still, O mourning heart, nor seek
+    To make the tongueless silence speak:
+    Be still, be strong, nor wish to find
+    Their way who leave the world behind--
+    Voices and forms forever gone
+    Into the darkness of the dawn.
+
+    What is their wisdom, clear and deep?--
+    That as men sow they surely reap,--
+    That every thought, that every deed,
+    Is sown into the soul for seed.
+    They have no word we do not know,--
+    Nor yet the cherubim aglow
+    With God: we know that virtue saves,--
+    They know no more beyond the graves.
+
+
+
+
+Griefs
+
+
+    The rains of winter scourged the weald,
+    For days they darkened on the field:
+    Now, where the wings of winter beat,
+    The poppies ripple in the wheat.
+
+    And pitiless griefs came thick and fast--
+    Life’s bough was naked in the blast--
+    Till silently amid the gloom
+    They blew the wintry heart to bloom.
+
+
+
+
+An Old Road
+
+
+    A host of poppies, a flight of swallows;
+    A flurry of rain, and a wind that follows
+    Shepherds the leaves in the sheltered hollows,
+      For the forest is shaken and thinned.
+
+    Over my head are the firs for rafter;
+    The crows blow south, and my heart goes after;
+    I kiss my hands to the world with laughter--
+      Is it Aidenn or mystical Ind?
+
+    Oh, the whirl of the fields in the windy weather!
+    How the barley breaks and blows together!
+    Oh, glad is the free bird afloat on the heather--
+      Oh, the whole world is glad of the wind!
+
+
+
+
+The New-Comers
+
+
+    Two swallows--each preening a long glossy feather;
+    Now they gossip and dart through the silvery weather;
+    Oh, praise to the Highest--two lovers together--
+      Free, free in the fathomless world of air.
+
+    No fate to oppose and no fortune to sunder;
+    Blue sky overhead--green sky breaking under;
+    And their home on the cliff in the midst of the wonder,
+      Hung high beyond fear on the gray granite stair.
+
+
+
+
+Music
+
+
+    It is the last appeal to man--
+    Voice crying since the world began;
+    The cry of the Ideal--cry
+    To aspirations that would die.
+    The last appeal! in it is heard
+    The pathos of the final word.
+
+    Voice tender and heroical--
+    Imperious voice that knoweth well
+    To wreck the reasonings of years,
+    To strengthen rebel hearts with tears.
+
+
+
+
+Fay Song
+
+
+    My life is a dream--a dream
+    In the moon’s cool beam;
+    Some day I shall wake and desire
+    A touch of the infinite fire.
+    But now ’tis enough that I be
+    In the light of the sea;
+    Enough that I climb with the cloud
+    When the winds of the morning are loud;
+    Enough that I fade with the stars
+    When the door of the East unbars.
+
+
+
+
+The Old Earth
+
+
+    How will it be if there we find no traces--
+    There in the Golden Heaven--if we find
+    No memories of the old Earth left behind,
+    No visions of familiar forms and faces--
+    Reminders of old voices and old places?
+    Yet could we bear it if it should remind?
+
+
+
+
+Divine Adventure
+
+
+    At times a youth (so whispered legend tells),
+    Like Hylas, stoops to drink
+    By forest-hidden brink,
+    And fair hands draw him down to darkened wells;
+    Fair hands that hold him fast
+    With laughter at the last
+    Have power to draw him lightly down to be
+    In elfin chambers under the gray sea.
+
+    And I, O men of Earth, I too,
+    When dawn was at the dew,
+    Was drawn as Hylas downward and beheld
+    Spirits of youth and eld--
+    Was swung down endless caverns to the deep,
+    Saw fervid jewels sparkle in their sleep,
+    Saw glad gnomes working in the dusty light,
+    Saw great rocks crouching in the primal night.
+    I was drawn down, and after many days
+    Returned with stiller feet to walk the upper ways.
+
+
+
+
+Song Made Flesh
+
+
+    I have no glory in these songs of mine:
+      If one of them can make a brother strong,
+    It came down from the peaks of the divine--
+      I heard it in the Heaven of Lyric Song.
+
+    The one who builds the poem into fact,
+      He is the rightful owner of it all:
+    The pale words are with God’s own power packed
+      When brave souls answer to their buglecall.
+
+    And so I ask no man to praise my song,
+      But I would have him build it in his soul;
+    For that great praise would make me glad and strong,
+      And build the poem to a perfect whole.
+
+
+
+
+To High-born Poets
+
+
+    There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed--
+    A cry from the toilers of Babylon for their rest.--
+    O Poet, thou art holden with a vow:
+    The light of higher worlds is on thy brow,
+    And Freedom’s star is soaring in thy breast.
+    Go, be a dauntless voice, a bugle-cry
+    In darkening battle when the winds are high--
+    A clear sane cry wherein the God is heard
+    To speak to men the one redeeming word.
+      No peace for thee, no peace,
+      Till blind oppression cease;
+      The stones cry from the walls,
+      Till the gray injustice falls--
+    Till strong men come to build in freedom-fate
+    The pillars of the new Fraternal State.
+
+      Let trifling pipe be mute,
+      Fling by the languid lute:
+    Take down the trumpet and confront the Hour,
+    And speak to toil-worn nations from a tower--
+    Take down the horn wherein the thunders sleep,
+    Blow battles into men--call down the fire--
+    The daring, the long purpose, the desire;
+    Descend with faith into the Human Deep,
+    And ringing to the troops of right a cheer,
+    Make known the Truth of Man in holy fear;
+    Send forth thy spirit in a storm of song,
+    A tempest flinging fire upon the wrong.
+
+
+
+
+The Toilers
+
+
+    Their blind feet drift in the darkness, and no one is leading;
+    Their toil is the pasture, where hyens and harpies are feeding;
+    In all lands and always, the wronged, the homeless, the humbled
+    Till the cliff-like pride of the spoiler is shaken and crumbled,
+    Till the Pillars of Hell are uprooted and left to their ruin,
+    And a rose-garden gladdens the places no rose ever blew in,
+    Where now men huddle together and whisper and harken,
+    Or hold their bleak hands over embers that die out and darken.
+    The anarchies gather and thunder: few, few are the fraters,
+    And loud is the revel at night in the camp of the traitors.
+    Say, Shelley, where are you--where are you? our hearts are a-breaking!
+    The fight in the terrible darkness--the shame--the forsaking!
+
+    The leaves shower down and are sport for the winds that come after;
+    And so are the Toilers in all lands the jest and the laughter
+    Of nobles--the Toilers scourged on in the furrow as cattle,
+    Or flung as a meat to the cannons that hunger in battle.
+
+
+
+
+On the Gulf of Night
+
+
+    The world’s sad petrels dwell for evermore
+    On windy headland or on ocean floor,
+    Or pierce the violent skies with perilous flights
+    That fret men in their palaces o’ nights,
+    Breaking enchanted slumber’s easeful boat,
+    With shudderings of their wild and dolorous note;
+    They blow about the black and barren skies,
+    They fill the night with ineffectual cries.
+
+    There is for them not anything before,
+    But sound of sea and sight of soundless shore,
+    Save when the darkness glimmers with a ray,
+    And Hope sings softly, _Soon it will be day_.
+    Then for a golden space the shades are thinned,
+    And dawn seems blowing seaward on the wind.
+    But soon the dark comes wilder than before,
+    And swift around them breaks a sullen roar;
+    The tempest calls to windward and to lea,
+    And--they are seabirds on the homeless sea.
+
+
+
+
+A Harvest Song
+
+
+    The gray bulk of the granaries uploom against the sky;
+    The harvest moon has dwindled--they have housed the corn and rye;
+    And now the idle reapers lounge against the bolted doors:
+    Without are hungry harvesters, within enchanted stores.
+
+    Lo, they had bread while they were out a-toiling in the sun:
+    Now they are strolling beggars, for the harvest work is done.
+    They are the gods of husbandry: they gather in the sheaves,
+    But when the autumn strips the wood, they’re drifting with the leaves.
+    They plow and sow and gather in the glory of the corn;
+    They know the noon, they know the pitiless rains before the morn;
+    They know the sweep of furrowed fields that darken in the gloom--
+    A little while their hope on earth, then evermore the tomb.
+
+
+
+
+Two Taverns
+
+
+    I remember how I lay
+    On a bank a summer day,
+    Peering into weed and flower:
+    Watched a poppy all one hour;
+    Watched it till the air grew chill
+    In the darkness of the hill;
+    Till I saw a wild bee dart
+    Out of the cold to the poppy’s heart;
+    Saw the petals gently spin,
+    And shut the little lodger in.
+    Then I took the quiet road
+    To my own secure abode.
+    All night long his tavern hung;
+    Now it rested, now it swung;
+    I asleep in steadfast tower,
+    He asleep in stirring flower;
+    In our hearts the same delight
+    In the hushes of the night;
+    Over us both the same dear care
+    As we slumbered unaware.
+
+
+
+
+The Man under the Stone
+
+
+    When I see a workingman with mouths to feed,
+    Up, day after day, in the dark before the dawn,
+    And coming home, night after night, through the dusk,
+    Swinging forward like some fierce silent animal,
+    I see a man doomed to roll a huge stone up an endless steep.
+    He strains it onward inch by stubborn inch,
+    Crouched always in the shadow of the rock....
+    See where he crouches, twisted, cramped, misshapen!
+    He lifts for their life;
+    The veins knot and darken--
+    Blood surges into his face....
+    Now he loses--now he wins--
+    Now he loses--loses--(God of my soul!)
+    He digs his feet into the earth--
+    There’s a moment of terrified effort.
+    Will the huge stone break his hold,
+    And crush him as it plunges to the gulf?
+
+    The silent struggle goes on and on,
+    Like two contending in a dream.
+
+
+
+
+Song to the Divine Mother[A]
+
+
+    Come, Mighty Mother, from the bright abode,
+      Lift the low heavens and hush the Earth again;
+    Come when the moon throws down a shining road
+      Across the sea--come back to weary men.
+
+    But if the moon throws out across the sea
+      Too dim a light, too wavering a way,
+    Come when the sunset paves a path for Thee
+      Across the waters fading into gray.
+
+    Dead nations saw Thee dimly in release--
+      In Aphrodite rising from the foam:
+    Some glimmer of Thy beauty was on Greece,
+      Some trembling of Thy passion was on Rome.
+
+    For ages Thou hast been the dim desire
+      That warmed the bridal chamber of the mind:
+    Come burning through the heavens with Holy Fire,
+      And spread divine contagion on mankind.
+
+    Come down, O Mother, to the helpless land,
+      That we may frame our Freedom into Fate:
+    Come down, and on the throne of nations stand,
+      That we may build Thy beauty in the State.
+
+    Come shining in upon our daily road,
+      Uphold the hero heart and light the mind;
+    Quicken the strong to lift the People’s load,
+      And bring back buried justice to mankind.
+
+    Shine through the frame of nations for a light,
+      Move through the hearts of heroes in a song:
+    It is Thy beauty, wilder than the night,
+      That hushed the heavens and keeps the high gods strong.
+
+    I know, Supernal Woman, Thou dost seek
+      No song of man, no worship and no praise;
+    But thou wouldst have dead lips begin to speak,
+      And dead feet rise to walk immortal ways.
+
+    Yet listen, Mighty Mother, to the child
+      Who has no voice but song to tell his grief--
+    Nothing but tears and broken numbers wild,
+      Nothing but woodland music for relief.
+
+    His song is but a little broken cry,
+      Less than the whisper of a river reed;
+    Yet thou canst hear in it the souls that die--
+      Feel in its pain the vastness of our need.
+
+    I would not break the mouth of song to tell
+      My life’s long passion and my heart’s long grief,
+    But Thou canst hear the ocean in one shell,
+      And see the whole world’s winter in one leaf.
+
+    So here I stand at the world’s weary feet,
+      And cry the sorrow of the world’s dumb years:
+    I cry because I hear the world’s heart beat
+      Weary of hope, weary of life and tears.
+
+    For ages Thou hast breathèd upon mankind
+      A faint wild tenderness, a vague desire;
+    For ages stilled the whirlwinds of the mind,
+      And sent on lyric seers the rush of fire.
+
+    And yet the world is held by wintry chain,
+      Dead to Thy social passion, Holy One:
+    The dried-up furrows need the vital rain,
+      The cold seeds the quick spirit of the sun.
+
+    Some day our homeless cries will draw Thee down,
+      And the old brightness on the ways of men
+    Will send a hush upon the jangling town,
+      And broken hearts will learn to love again.
+
+    Come, Bride of God, to fill the vacant Throne,
+      Touch the dim Earth again with sacred feet;
+    Come build the Holy City of white stone,
+      And let the whole world’s gladness be complete.
+
+    Come with the face that hushed the heavens of old--
+      Come with Thy maidens in a mist of light;
+    Haste for the night falls and the shadows fold,
+      And voices cry and wander on the height.
+
+
+
+
+The Flying Mist
+
+
+    I watch afar the moving Mystery,
+    The wool-shod, formless terror of the sea--
+    The Mystery whose lightest touch can change
+    The world God made to phantasy, death-strange.
+    Under its spell all things grow old and gray
+    As they will be beyond the Judgment Day.
+    All voices, at the lifting of some hand,
+    Seem calling to us from another land.
+    Is it the still Power of the Sepulcher
+    That makes all things the wraiths of things that were?
+
+    It touches, one by one, the wayside posts,
+    And they are gone, a line of hurrying ghosts.
+    It creeps upon the towns with stealthy feet,
+    And men are phantoms on a phantom street.
+    It strikes the towers and they are shafts of air,
+    Above the spectres passing in the square.
+    The city turns to ashes, spire by spire;
+    The mountains perish with their peaks afire.
+    The fading city and the falling sky
+    Are swallowed in one doom without a cry.
+
+    It tracks the traveler fleeing with the gale,
+    Fleeing toward home and friends without avail;
+    It springs upon him and he is a ghost,
+    A blurred shape moving on a soundless coast.
+    God! it pursues my love along the stream,
+    Swirls round her and she is forever dream.
+    What Hate has touched the universe with eld,
+    And left me only in a world dispelled?
+
+
+
+
+From the Hand of a Child
+
+
+    One day a child ran after me in the street,
+    To give me a half-blown rose, a fire-white rose,
+    Its stem all warm yet from the tight-shut hand.
+    The little gift seemed somehow more to me
+    Than all men strive for in the turbid towns,
+    Than all they hoard up through a long wild life.
+    And as I breathed the heart-breath of the flower,
+    The Youth of Earth broke on me like a dawn,
+    And I was with the wide-eyed wondering things,
+    Back in the far forgotten buried time.
+    A lost world came back softly with the rose:
+    I saw a glad host follow with lusty cries
+    Diana flying with her maidens white,
+    Down the long reaches of the laureled hills.
+    Above the sea I saw a wreath of girls,
+    Fading to air in far-off poppy fields.
+    I saw a blithe youth take the open road:
+    His thoughts ran on before him merrily;
+    Sometimes he dipped his feet in stirring brooks;
+    At night he slept upon a bed of boughs.
+
+    This in my soul. Then suddenly a shape,
+    A spectre wearing yet the mask of dust
+    Jostled against me as he passed, and lo!
+    The jarring city and the drift of feet
+    Surged back upon me like the grieving sea.
+
+
+
+
+At the Meeting of Seven Valleys
+
+
+    At the meeting of seven valleys in the west,
+    I came upon a host of silent souls,
+    Seated beside still waters on the grass.
+    It was a place of memories and tears--
+    Terrible tears. I rested in a wood,
+    And there the bird that mourns for Itys sang--
+    Itys that touched the tears of all the world.
+    But climbing onward toward the purple peaks,
+    I passed, on silent feet, white multitudes,
+    Beyond the reach of peering memories,
+    Lying asleep upon the scented banks,
+    Their bodies burning with celestial fire.
+    A mighty awe came on me at the thought--
+    The strangeness of the beatific sleep,
+    The vision of God, the mystic bread of rest.
+
+
+
+
+The Rock-Breaker
+
+
+    Pausing he leans upon his sledge, and looks--
+      A labor-blasted toiler;
+    So have I seen, on Shasta’s top, a pine
+      Stand silent on a cliff,
+    Stript of its glory of green leaves and boughs,
+      Its great trunk split by fire,
+    Its gray bark blackened by the thunder-smoke,
+      Its life a sacrifice
+    To some blind purpose of the destinies.
+
+
+
+
+These Songs Will Perish
+
+
+    These songs will perish like the shapes of air--
+    The singer and the songs die out forever;
+    But star-eyed Truth (greater than song or singer)
+    Sweeps hurrying on: far off she sees a gleam
+    Upon a peak. She cried to man of old
+    To build the enduring, glad Fraternal State--
+    Cries yet through all the ruins of the world--
+    Through Karnack, through the stones of Babylon--
+    Cries for a moment through these fading songs.
+
+    On wingèd feet, a form of fadeless youth,
+    She goes to meet the coming centuries,
+    And, hurrying, snatches up some human reed,
+    Blows through it once her terror-bearing note,
+    And breaks and throws away. It is enough
+    If we can be a bugle at her lips,
+    To scatter her contagion on mankind.
+
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[A] This song should be read in the light of the deep and comforting
+truth that the Divine Feminine as well as the Divine Masculine
+Principle is in God--that he is Father-Mother, Two-in-One. It follows
+from this truth that the dignity of womanhood is grounded in the Divine
+Nature itself. The fact that the Deity is Man-Woman was known to the
+ancient poets and sages, and was grafted into the nobler religions of
+mankind. The idea is implied in the doctrine of the Divine Father,
+taught by our Lord in the Gospels; and it is declared in the first
+chapter of Genesis in the words: “God said, ‘Let Us make men in Our
+image, after Our likeness.’ ... So God created man in His own image, in
+the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.”
+
+
+
+
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+  <head>  <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" />
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+<title>
+  The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man With The Hoe, by Edwin Markham.
+</title>
+<style type="text/css">
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+
+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The man with the hoe, and other poems, by Edwin Markham</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+
+<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The man with the hoe, and other poems</p>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edwin Markham</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 25, 2021 [eBook #67012]</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images available at The Internet Archive)</div>
+
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH THE HOE, AND OTHER POEMS ***</div>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<div class="c">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p class="c">The Man with the Hoe<br />
+<br /><br />
+TO<br />
+<br />
+EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN<br />
+<br />
+<small>FIRST TO HAIL AND CAUTION ME<br /></small>
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<h1>
+The Man with the Hoe</h1>
+
+<p class="cb">AND OTHER POEMS<br />
+<br />
+<i><small>By</small></i><br />
+EDWIN MARKHAM<br />
+<br />
+<img src="images/colophon.jpg"
+width="115"
+alt="" />
+<br />
+<br />
+NEW YORK<br />
+DOUBLEDAY &amp; McCLURE COMPANY<br />
+1899<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<h2><a name="PREFATORY_NOTE" id="PREFATORY_NOTE"></a>Prefatory Note</h2>
+
+<p>Many of these poems have appeared in <i>Scribner’s</i>, <i>The Century</i>, <i>The
+Atlantic</i>, and the San Francisco <i>Examiner</i>, and my thanks are due them
+for permission to republish.</p>
+
+<p class="r">
+<span class="smcap">Edwin Markham.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oakland, California.</span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_CONTENTS" id="THE_CONTENTS"></a>The Contents</h2>
+
+<table cellpadding="2">
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE">The Man with the Hoe</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF">A Look into the Gulf</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BROTHERHOOD">Brotherhood</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_21">21</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN">Song of the Followers of Pan</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND">Little Brothers of the Ground</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD">Wail of the Wandering Dead</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_PRAYER">A Prayer</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_POET">The Poet</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD">The Whirlwind Road</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS">The Desire of Nations</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_33">33</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_ELF_CHILD">The Elf Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH">The Goblin Laugh</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#POETRY">Poetry</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_MEETING">A Meeting</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#INFINITE_DEPTHS">Infinite Depths</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK">A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_PAYMASTER">The Paymaster</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_46">46</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LAST_FURROW">The Last Furrow</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_THE_STORM">In the Storm</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE">After Reading Shakspere</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY">The Hidden Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_POETS">The Poets</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LOVES_VIGIL">Love’s Vigil</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE">Two at a Fireside</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_BUTTERFLY">The Butterfly</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_WILLIAM_WATSON">To William Watson</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#KEATS_A-DYING">Keats A-Dying</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MAN">Man</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_CRICKET">The Cricket</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_HIGH_SIERRAS">In High Sierras</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_62">62</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS">The Wharf of Dreams</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_LOUISE_MICHEL">To Louise Michel</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID">Shepherd Boy and Nereid</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SONG_AT_THE_START">A Song at the Start</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_68">68</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MY_COMRADE">My Comrade</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN">A Lyric of the Dawn</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JOY_OF_THE_MORNING">Joy of the Morning</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#YOUTH_AND_TIME">Youth and Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SATYR_SONG">A Satyr Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT">A Cry in the Night</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FAYS">Fays</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_DEATH_VALLEY">In Death Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AT_DAWN">At Dawn</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FOLLOW_ME">“Follow Me”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_POPPY_FIELDS">In Poppy Fields</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS">The Joy of the Hills</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE">The Invisible Bride</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_VALLEY">The Valley</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_94">94</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE">The Climb of Life</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TRAGEDY">The Tragedy</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_97">97</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DIVINE_VISION">Divine Vision</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_98">98</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MIDSUMMER_NOON">Midsummer Noon</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_99">99</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW">One Life, One Law</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_100">100</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GRIEFS">Griefs</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_101">101</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_OLD_ROAD">An Old Road</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_102">102</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_NEW-COMERS">The New Comers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_103">103</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MUSIC">Music</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_104">104</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FAY_SONG">Fay Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_OLD_EARTH">The Old Earth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DIVINE_ADVENTURE">Divine Adventure</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_MADE_FLESH">Song Made Flesh</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS">To High-born Poets</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_110">110</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TOILERS">The Toilers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT">On the Gulf of Night</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_HARVEST_SONG">A Harvest Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_116">116</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TWO_TAVERNS">Two Taverns</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE">The Man under the Stone</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_119">119</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER">Song to the Divine Mother</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_FLYING_MIST">The Flying Mist</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_127">127</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD">From the Hand of a Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_129">129</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS">At the Meeting of Seven Valleys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_131">131</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_ROCK-BREAKER">The Rock-Breaker</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH">These Songs Will Perish</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span>&#160; </p>
+
+<h1>The Man with the Hoe</h1>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE" id="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_HOE"></a>The Man with the Hoe</h2>
+
+<p class="c"><i>Written after seeing Millet’s World-Famous Painting</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><small>
+<span class="i0">God made man in His own image,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">in the image of God made He him.&mdash;<i>Genesis.</i><br /></span>
+</small></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The emptiness of ages in his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on his back the burden of the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who made him dead to rapture and despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have dominion over sea and land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feel the passion of Eternity?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pillared the blue firmament with light?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is no shape more terrible than this&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More filled with signs and portents for the soul&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More fraught with menace to the universe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What gulfs between him and the seraphim!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What the long reaches of the peaks of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plundered, profaned and disinherited,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries protest to the Judges of the World,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A protest that is also prophecy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is this the handiwork you give to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How will you ever straighten up this shape;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Touch it again with immortality;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give back the upward looking and the light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rebuild in it the music and the dream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make right the immemorial infamies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How will the Future reckon with this Man?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How answer his brute question in that hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How will it be with kingdoms and with kings&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With those who shaped him to the thing he is&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When this dumb Terror shall reply to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After the silence of the centuries?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF" id="A_LOOK_INTO_THE_GULF"></a>A Look into the Gulf</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I looked one night, and there Semiramis,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all her mourning doves about her head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snatches of song they sang to her of old<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“The bugles! they are crying back again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then went crying on through Nineveh.<br /></span>
+<span class="ipnts">. . . . . . .<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assyria goes by upon the wind!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so she babbles by the ancient road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While cities turned to dust upon the Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rise through her whirling brain to live again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her weary lips beat on without a sound.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="BROTHERHOOD" id="BROTHERHOOD"></a>Brotherhood</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The crest and crowning of all good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Life’s final star, is Brotherhood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For it will bring again to Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will send new light on every face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A kingly power upon the race.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And till it come, we men are slaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And travel downward to the dust of graves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Come, clear the way, then, clear the way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blind creeds and kings have had their day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Break the dead branches from the path:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our hope is in the aftermath&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our hope is in heroic men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Star-led to build the world again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To this Event the ages ran:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make way for Brotherhood&mdash;make way for Man.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN" id="SONG_OF_THE_FOLLOWERS_OF_PAN"></a>Song of the Followers of Pan</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our bursting bugles blow apart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The gates of cities as we go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We bring the music of the heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From secret wells in Lillimo’.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We break in music on the morns&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing of the flower to stirring roots;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Apollo’s cry is in the horns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Hermes’ whisper in the flutes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We come with laughter to the Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lightly stir the heading wheat:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our God is Poesy and Mirth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And loves the noise of woodland feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When dancers beat the air to sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">After the time of yellow sheaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He stops to watch the merry round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His pleased face looking through the leaves.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND" id="LITTLE_BROTHERS_OF_THE_GROUND"></a>Little Brothers of the Ground</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little ants in leafy wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bound by gentle Brotherhood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While ye gaily gather spoil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men are ground by the wheel of toil;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While ye follow Blessed Fates,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men are shriveled up with hates;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or they lie with sheeted Lust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they eat the bitter dust.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye are fraters in your hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gay and chainless, great and small;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All are toilers in the field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All are sharers in the yield.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we mortals plot and plan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How to grind the fellow-man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glad to find him in a pit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we get some gain of it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So with us, the sons of Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Labor is a kind of crime,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the toilers have the least,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the idlers lord the feast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, our workers they are bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pallid captives to the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jeered by traitors, fooled by knaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till they stumble into graves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How appears to tiny eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All this wisdom of the wise?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD" id="WAIL_OF_THE_WANDERING_DEAD"></a>Wail of the Wandering Dead</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Death, too, is a chimera and betrays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And yet they promised we should enter rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death is as empty as the cup of days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bitter milk is in her wintry breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is no worth in any world to come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor any in the world we left behind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what remains of all our masterdom?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Only a cry out of the crumbling mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We played all comers at the old Gray Inn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But played the King of Players to our cost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We played Him fair and had no chance to win:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The dice of God were loaded and we lost.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We wander, wander, and the nights come down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With starless darkness and the rush of rains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We drift as phantoms by the songless town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We drift as litter on the windy lanes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hope is the fading vision of the heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A mocking spirit throwing up wild hands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She led us on with music at the start,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To leave us at dead fountains in the sands.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now all our days are but a cry for sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For we are weary of the petty strife.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is there not somewhere in the endless deep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A place where we can lose the feel of life?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where we can be as senseless as the dust<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The night wind blows about a dried-up well?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where there is no more labor, no more lust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor any flesh to feel the Tooth of Hell?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our feet are ever sliding, and we seem<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As old and weary as the pyramids.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, God of Ages, and dispel the dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fold the worn hands and close the sinking lids.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is no new road for the dead to take:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild hearts are we among the worlds astray&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wild hearts are we that cannot wholly break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But linger on though life has gone away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We are the sons of Misery and Eld:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come, tender Death, with all your hushing wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let our broken spirits be dispelled&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let dead men sink into the dusk of things.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_PRAYER" id="A_PRAYER"></a>A Prayer</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softly as the grasses grow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hush my soul to meet the shock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the wild world as a rock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my spirit, propt with power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make as simple as a flower.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the dry heart fill its cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let life lightly wear her crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When its heart is filled with dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And its life begins anew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind and patient as a tree.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Joyfully the crickets croon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under shady oak at noon;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beetle, on his mission bent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tarries in that cooling tent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me, also, cheer a spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hidden field or garden grot&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Place where passing souls can rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the way and be their best.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_POET" id="THE_POET"></a>The Poet</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His home is in the heights: to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men wage a battle weird and dim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life is a mission stern as fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Song a dread apostolate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The toils of prophecy are his,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hail the coming centuries&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ease the steps and lift the load<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of souls that falter on the road.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The perilous music that he hears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls from the vortice of the spheres.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He presses on before the race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sings out of a silent place.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like faint notes of a forest bird<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On heights afar that voice is heard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the dim path he breaks to-day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will some time be a trodden way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when the race comes toiling on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That voice of wonder will be gone&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be heard on higher peaks afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moved upward with the morning star.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O men of earth, that wandering voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still goes the upward way: rejoice!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD" id="THE_WHIRLWIND_ROAD"></a>The Whirlwind Road</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Muses wrapped in mysteries of light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came in a rush of music on the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I was lifted wildly on quick wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And borne away into the deep of things.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dead doors of my being broke apart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wind of rapture blew across the heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The inward song of worlds rang still and clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I felt the Mystery the Muses fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet they went swiftening on the ways untrod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hurled me breathless at the feet of God.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I felt faint touches of the Final Truth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moments of trembling love, moments of youth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A vision swept away the human wall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slowly I saw the meaning of it all&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meaning of life and time and death and birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But can not tell it to the men of Earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I only point the way, and they must go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whirlwind road of song if they would know.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS" id="THE_DESIRE_OF_NATIONS"></a>The Desire of Nations</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>And the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall
+be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The ever-lasting
+Father, The Prince of Peace.&mdash;<i>Isaiah.</i></p></div>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Earth will go back to her lost youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And life grow deep and wonderful as truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the wise King out of the nearing heaven comes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To break the spell of long millenniums&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build with song again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The broken hope of men&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hush and heroize the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the flag of Brotherhood unfurled.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He will come some day:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Already is His star upon the way!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He comes, O world, He comes!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not with bugle-cry nor roll of doubling drums.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nay, for He comes to loosen and unbind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build the lofty purpose in the mind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stir the heart’s deep chord....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No rude horns parleying, no shock of shields;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor as of old the glory of the Lord<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To half-awakened shepherds in the fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looking with foolish faces on the rush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the Great Splendor, when the pulsing hush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came o’er the hills, came o’er the heavens afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where on their cliff of stars the watching seraphs are.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor as of old when first the Strong One trod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Power of sepulchers&mdash;our Risen God!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When on that deathless morning in the dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He quit the Garden of the Sepulcher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Setting the oleander boughs astir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pausing at the gate with backward hark.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, nor as when the Hero-King of Heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came with upbraiding to His faint eleven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found the world-way to His bright feet barred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hopeless then because men’s hearts were hard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor will He come like carnal kings of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With pomp of pilfered gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor like the pharisees with pride of prayer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor as the stumbling foolish stewards dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In tedious argument and fruitless creed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in the passion of the heart-warm deed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will come the Man Supreme.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, for He comes to lift the Public Care&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build on Earth the Vision hung in air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the one fulfillment of His Law&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one Fact in the mockeries that seem.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the Vision that the prophets saw&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Comrade Kingdom builded in their dream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No, not as in that elder day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes now the King upon the human way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He comes with power: His white unfearing face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shines through the Social Passion of the race.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He comes to frame the freedom of the Law,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To touch these men of Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With feeling of life’s oneness and its worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A feeling of its mystery and awe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when He comes into the world gone wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will rebuild her beauty with a song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To every heart He will its own dream be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One moon has many phantoms in the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the North the norns will cry to men:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Balder the Beautiful has come again!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flutes of Greece will whisper from the dead:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Apollo has unveiled his sunbright head!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stones of Thebes and Memphis will find voice:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Osiris comes: O tribes of Time, rejoice!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And social architects who build the State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Serving the Dream at citadel and gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will hail Him coming through the labor-hum.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glad quick cries will go from man to man:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Lo, He has come, our Christ the Artisan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The King who loved the lilies, He has come!”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He will arrive, our Counselor and Chief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with bleak faces lighted up will come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The earth-worn mothers from their martyrdom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tell Him of their grief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glad girls caroling from field and town<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will go to meet Him with the labor-crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The new crown woven of the heading wheat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men will sit down at His sacred feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He will say&mdash;the King&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Come, let us live the poetry we sing!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these, His burning words, will break the ban&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Words that will grow to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On continent, on sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rallying cry of man....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He comes to make the long injustice right&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes to push back the shadow of the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gray Tradition full of flint and flaw&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes to wipe out the insults to the soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The insults of the Few against the Whole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The insults they make righteous with a law.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yea, He will bear the Safety of the State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in his still and rhythmic steps will be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The power and music of Alcyone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who holds the swift heavens in their starry fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, He will lay on souls the power of peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And send on kingdoms torn the sense of Home&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than the fire of Joy that burned on Greece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More than the light of Law that rose on Rome.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_ELF_CHILD" id="THE_ELF_CHILD"></a>The Elf Child</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I am a child of the reef and the blowing spray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And all my heart goes wildly to the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am a changeling: can you follow me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through hill and hollow on the wind’s dim way?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, at the break of a tempestuous day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They bore me to the land through starless storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And laid me in the pillow sweetly warm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And broken by the first one’s little stay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The elf kings found me on an ocean reef,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lyric child of mystery and grief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then need I tell you why the trembling start&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why in my song the sound of ocean dwells&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why the quick gladness when the billow swells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As though remembered voices called the heart?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH" id="THE_GOBLIN_LAUGH"></a>The Goblin Laugh</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I behold how men and women grind<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And grovel for some place of pomp or power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To shine and circle through a crumbling hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forgetting the large mansions of the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That are the rest and shelter of mankind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And when I see them come with wearied brains<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pallid and powerless to enjoy their gains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I seem to hear a goblin laugh unwind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then a memory sends upon its billow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thoughts of a singer wise enough to play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who took life as a lightsome holiday:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft have I seen him make his arm a pillow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drink from his hand, and with a pipe of willow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blow a wild music down a woodland way.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="POETRY" id="POETRY"></a>Poetry</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She comes as hush and beauty of the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sees too deep for laughter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her touch is a vibration and a light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From worlds before and after.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_MEETING" id="A_MEETING"></a>A Meeting</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Softly she came one twilight from the dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in the passionate silence of her look<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was more than man has writ in any book:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now my thoughts are restless, and a dread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For down the leafy ways her white feet took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lightly the newly broken roses shook&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">God! was it joy or sorrow in her face&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That quiet face? Had it grown old or young?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was it sweet memory or sad that stung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her voiceless soul to wander from its place?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What do the dead find in the Silence&mdash;grace?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or endless grief for which there is no tongue?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="INFINITE_DEPTHS" id="INFINITE_DEPTHS"></a>Infinite Depths</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The little pool, in street or field apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Glasses deep heavens and the rushing storm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And into silent depths of every heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Eternal throws its awful shadow-form.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK" id="A_LEAF_FROM_THE_DEVILS_JEST-BOOK"></a>A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beside the sewing-table chained and bent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Torn in life’s golden curtains. Glad Youth went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And left them alone with Time; and now if bowed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With burdens they should sob and cry aloud,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wondering, the rich would look from their content.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so this glimmering life at last recedes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In unknown, endless depths beyond recall;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what’s the worth of all our ancient creeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If here at the end of ages this is all&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A white face floating in the whirling ball,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dead face plashing in the river reeds?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_PAYMASTER" id="THE_PAYMASTER"></a>The Paymaster</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is a sacred Something on all ways&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Something that watches through the Universe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One that remembers, reckons and repays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Giving us love for love, and curse for curse.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_LAST_FURROW" id="THE_LAST_FURROW"></a>The Last Furrow</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Spirit of Earth, with still restoring hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">’Mid ruin moves, in glimmering chasm gropes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mosses mantle and the bright flower opes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Death the Ploughman wanders in all lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the last of Earth his furrow stands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grave is never hidden; fearful hopes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Follow the dead upon the fading slopes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And there wild memories meet upon the sands.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When willows fling their banners to the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When rumor of winds and sound of sudden showers<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disturb the dream of winter&mdash;all in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grasses hurry to the graves, the flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Toss their wild torches on their windy towers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet are the bleak graves lonely in the rain.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_THE_STORM" id="IN_THE_STORM"></a>In the Storm</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I huddled close against the mighty cliff.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sense of safety and of brotherhood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broke on the heart: the shelter of a rock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE" id="AFTER_READING_SHAKSPERE"></a>After Reading Shakspere</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blithe Fancy lightly builds with airy hands<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or on the edges of the darkness peers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Breathless and frightened at the Voice she hears:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imagination (lo! the sky expands)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Travels the blue arch and Cimmerian sands,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Homeless on earth, the pilgrim of the spheres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The rush of light before the hurrying years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Voice that cries in unfamiliar lands.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Men weigh the moons that flood with eerie light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The dusky vales of Saturn&mdash;wood and stream;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But who shall follow on the awful sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Neptune through the dim and dreadful deep?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onward he wanders in the unknown night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we are shadows moving in a dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY" id="THE_HIDDEN_VALLEY"></a>The Hidden Valley</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I stray with Ariel and Caliban:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I know the hill of windy pines&mdash;I know<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the jay’s nest swings in the wild gorge below:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lightly I climb where fallen cedars span<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright rivers&mdash;climb to a valley under ban,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where west winds set a thousand bells ablow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An eerie valley where in the morning glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hear the music of the pipes of Pan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mysterious horns blow by on the still air&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A satyr steps&mdash;a wood-god’s dewy notes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come faintly from a vale of tossing oats.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ho! what white thing in the canyon crossed?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gods! I shall come on Dian unaware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look on her fearful beauty and be lost.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_POETS" id="THE_POETS"></a>The Poets</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some cry of Sappho’s lyre, of Saadi’s flute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Comes back across the waste of mortal things:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men strive and die to reach the Dead Sea fruit&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Only the poets find immortal springs.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="LOVES_VIGIL" id="LOVES_VIGIL"></a>Love’s Vigil</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love will outwatch the stars, and light the skies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the last star falls, and the silent dark devours;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God’s warrior, he will watch the allotted hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And conquer with the look of his sad eyes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shakes the kingdom of darkness with his sighs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His quiet sighs, while all the Infernal Powers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tremble and pale upon their central towers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest, haply, his bright universe arise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All will be well if he have strength to wait,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till his lost Pleiad, white and silver-shod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Regains her place to make the perfect Seven;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then all the worlds will know that Love is Fate&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That somehow he is greater even than Heaven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That in the Cosmic Council he is God.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE" id="TWO_AT_A_FIRESIDE"></a>Two at a Fireside</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I built a chimney for a comrade old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I did the service not for hope or hire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then I traveled on in winter’s cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_BUTTERFLY" id="THE_BUTTERFLY"></a>The Butterfly</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O wingèd brother on the harebell, stay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was God’s hand very pitiful, the hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That wrought thy beauty at a dream’s demand?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Yea, knowing I love so well the flowery way,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>He did not fling me to the world astray&mdash;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>He did not drop me to the weary sand,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>But bore me gently to a leafy land:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Tinting my wings, He gave me to the day.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, chide no more my doubting, my despair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I will go back now to the world of men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Farewell, I leave thee to the world of air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet thou hast girded up my heart again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For He that framed the impenetrable plan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And keeps His word with thee, will keep with man.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TO_WILLIAM_WATSON" id="TO_WILLIAM_WATSON"></a>To William Watson</h2>
+
+<p class="c"><i>After reading “The Purple East.”</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That hour you put the wreath of England by<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To shake her guilty heart with song sublime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty Muse that watches from the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Laid on your head the larger wreath of Time.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="KEATS_A-DYING" id="KEATS_A-DYING"></a>Keats A-Dying</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Often of that Last Hour I lie and think;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I see thee, Keats, nearing the Deathway dim&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">See Severn in his noiseless hurry, him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who leaned above thee fading on the brink.<br /></span>
+<span class="ipnts">. . . . . . .<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is that wild light through the window chink?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is it the burning feet of cherubim?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or is it the white moon on western rim&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saint Agnes’ moon beginning now to sink?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How did Death come&mdash;with sounds of water-stir?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With forms of beauty breaking at the lips?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With field pipes and the scent of blowing fir?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or came it hurrying like a last eclipse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweeping the world away like gossamer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Blotting the moon, the mountains, and the ships?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MAN" id="MAN"></a>Man</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Out of the deep and endless universe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There came a greater Mystery, a Shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Something sad, inscrutable, august&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One to confront the worlds and question them.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_CRICKET" id="THE_CRICKET"></a>The Cricket</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The twilight is the morning of his day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While sleep drops seaward from the fading shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With purpling sail and dip of silver oar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cheers the shadowed time with roun-delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the dark east softens into gray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now as the noisy hours are coming&mdash;hark!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His song dies gently&mdash;it is growing dark&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His night, with its one star, is on its way!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Faintly the light breaks o’er the blowing oats&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sleep, little brother, sleep: I am astir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We worship Song, and servants are of her&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I in the bright hours, thou in shadow-time;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lead thou the starlit night with merry notes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I will lead the clamoring day with rhyme.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_HIGH_SIERRAS" id="IN_HIGH_SIERRAS"></a>In High Sierras</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There at a certain hour of the deep night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gray cliff with a demon face comes up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrinkled and old, behind the peaks, and with<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An anxious look peers at the Zodiac.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS" id="THE_WHARF_OF_DREAMS"></a>The Wharf of Dreams</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strange wares are handled on the wharves of sleep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shadows of shadows pass, and many a light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flashes a signal fire across the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Barges depart whose voiceless steersmen keep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their way without a star upon the deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And from lost ships, homing with ghostly crews,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come cries of incommunicable news,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While cargoes pile the piers, a moon-white heap&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Budgets of dream-dust, merchandise of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fardels of heartache, burdens of old sins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Luggage sent down from dim ancestral inns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bales of fantasy from No-Man’s Land.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TO_LOUISE_MICHEL" id="TO_LOUISE_MICHEL"></a>To Louise Michel</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I cannot take your road, Louise Michel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Priestess of Pity and of Vengeance&mdash;no:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Down that amorphous gulf I cannot go&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gulf of Anarchy whose pit is Hell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, sister, though my first word is farewell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Remember that I know your hidden woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have felt the grief that rends you blow on blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have knelt beside you in the murky cell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You never followed hate (let this atone)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor knew the wrongs of others from your own:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild was the road, but Love has always led,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I am silent where I cannot praise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here now at the parting of the ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I lay a still hand lightly on your head.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID" id="SHEPHERD_BOY_AND_NEREID"></a>Shepherd Boy and Nereid</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, once of old in some forgotten tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forgotten land, I was a shepherd boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And you a Nereid, a wingèd joy:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On through the dawn-bright peaks our bodies swung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flower-soft lyrics by immortals sung<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fell from their unseen pinnacles in air:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God looked from Heaven that hour, for you were fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I a poet, and the star was young.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You’d heard my woodland pipe and left the sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Your hair blown gold and all your body white&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had left the ocean-girls to follow me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We joined the hill-nymphs in their joyous flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you laughed lightly to the sea, and sent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quick glances flashing through me as I went.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_SONG_AT_THE_START" id="A_SONG_AT_THE_START"></a>A Song at the Start</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, down the quick river our galley is going,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a sound in the cordage, a beam on the sail:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wind of the canyon our loose hair is blowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the clouds of the morning are glad of the gale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Around the swift prow little billows are breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And flinging their foam in a glory of light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now the shade of a rock on the river is shaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And a wave leaps high up growing suddenly white.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The weight of the whole world is light as a feather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the peaks rise in silence and westerly flee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the world and the poet are singing together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And from the far cliff comes a sound of the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MY_COMRADE" id="MY_COMRADE"></a>My Comrade</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I never build a song by night or day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in some wondrous unexpected way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like light upon a road, my Love comes in.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when I go at night upon the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My heart is lifted on mysterious wings:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Love is there to strengthen and to still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For she can take away the dread of things.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN" id="A_LYRIC_OF_THE_DAWN"></a>A Lyric of the Dawn</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Alone I list<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the leafy tryst;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silent the woodlands in their starry sleep&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silent the phantom wood in waters deep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No footfall of a wind along the pass<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Startles a harebell&mdash;stirs a blade of grass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yonder the wandering weeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Enchanted in the light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stand in the gusty hollows, still and white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yonder are plumy reeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dusking the border of the clear lagoon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far off the silver clifts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hang in ethereal light below the moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far off the ocean lifts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tossing its billows in the misty beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shore-lines whiten, silent as a dream:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hark for the bird, and all the hushed hills harken:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the valley: here the branches darken<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The silver-lighted stream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Hark&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That rapture in the leafy dark!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who is it shouts upon the bough aswing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waking the upland and the valley under?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What carols, like the blazon of a king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fill all the dawn with wonder?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Oh, hush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It is the thrush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the deep and woody glen!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, thus the gladness of the gods was sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the old Earth was young;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That rapture rang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the first morning on the mountains sprang:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now he shouts, and the world is young again!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Carol, my king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On your bough aswing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art not of these evil days&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art a voice of the world’s lost youth:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, tell me what is duty&mdash;what is truth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How to find God upon these hungry ways;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell of the golden prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When men beheld swift deities descend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the race was left alone with Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Homesick on Earth, and homeless to the end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When bird and beast could make a man their friend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before great Pan was dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before the naiads fled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When maidens white with dark eyes shy and bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With peals of laughter on the peaks of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Startled the still dawn&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shone in upon the mountains and were gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their voices fading silverly in depths of forests old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing of the wonders of their woodland ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the weird earth-hunger of these days,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When there was rippling mirth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When justice was on Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And light and grandeur of the Golden Age;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When never a heart was sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When all from king to herdsman had<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A penny for a wage.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, that old time has faded to a dream&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moon’s fair face is broken in the stream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet shout and carol on, O bird, and let<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The exiled race not utterly forget;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Publish thy revelation on the lawns&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing ever in the dark ethereal dawns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sometime, in some sweet year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These stormy souls, these men of Earth may hear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">But hark again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From the secret glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That voice of rapture and ethereal youth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now laden with despair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forbear, O bird, forbear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is life not terrible enough forsooth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cease, cease the mystic song<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more, no more, the passion and the pain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It wakes my life to fret against the chain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It makes me think of all the agèd wrong&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of joy and the end of joy and the end of all&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of souls on Earth, and souls beyond recall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, ah, that voice again!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It makes me think of all these restless men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Called into time&mdash;their progress and their goal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And now, oh now, it sends into my soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dreams of a love that might have been for me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That might have been&mdash;and now can never be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Tell me no more of these&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell me of trancèd trees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The ghosts, the memories, in pity spare)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Show me the leafy home of the wild bees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Show me the snowy summits dim in air;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell me of things afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In valleys silent under moon and star:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dim hollows hushed with night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lofty cedars misty in the light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild clusters of the vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wild odors of the pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eagle’s eyrie lifted to the moon&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High places where on quiet afternoon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A shadow swiftens by, a thrilling scream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Startles the cliff, and dies across the woodland to a dream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Ha, now<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He springs from the bough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It flickers&mdash;he is lost!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out of the copse he sprang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the floating briar where he tossed:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The leaves are yet atremble where he sang.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Here a long vista opens&mdash;look!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This is the way he took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the pale poplars by the pond:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hark! he is shouting in the field beyond.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ho, there he goes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through the alder close!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He leaves me here behind him in his flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet my heart goes with him out of sight!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What whispered spell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Faëry calls me on from dell to dell?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hear the voice&mdash;it wanders in a dream&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now in the grove, now on the hill, now on the fading stream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Lead on&mdash;you know the way&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Lead on to Arcady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er fields asleep; by river bank abrim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down leafy ways, dewy and cool and dim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By dripping rocks, dark dwellings of the gnome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where hurrying waters dash their crests to foam.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow where you lead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down winding paths, across the flowery mead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down silent hollows where the woodbine blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up water-courses scented by the rose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow the wandering voice&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow, I rejoice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fade away into the Age of Gold&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We two together lost in forest old.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O ferny and thymy paths, O fields of Aidenn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canyons and cliffs by mortal feet untrod!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O souls that weary and are heavy laden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Here is the peace of God!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo! now the clamoring hours are on the way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faintly the pine tops redden in the ray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From vale to vale fleet-footed rumors run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sudden apprehension of the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A light wind stirs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The filmy tops of delicate dim firs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And on the river border blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breaking the shy bud softly to a rose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing out, O throstle, sing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I follow on, my king:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lead me forever through the crimson dawn&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the world ends, lead me on!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ho there! he shouts again&mdash;he sways&mdash;and now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upspringing from the bough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flashing a glint of dew upon the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Without a sound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He drops into a valley and is gone!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="JOY_OF_THE_MORNING" id="JOY_OF_THE_MORNING"></a>Joy of the Morning</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hear you, little bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shouting aswing above the broken wall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing to my soul in the deep still wood:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’d tell it, too, if I could.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft when the white, still dawn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The world’s mysterious stir)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But had no throat like yours, my bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor such a listener.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="YOUTH_AND_TIME" id="YOUTH_AND_TIME"></a>Youth and Time</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once, I remember, the world was young;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rills rejoiced with a silver tongue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The field-lark sat in the wheat and sang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thrush’s shout in the woodland rang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cliffs and the perilous sands afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were softened to mist by the morning star;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Youth was with me (I know it now!),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a light shone out from his wreathèd brow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He turned the fields to enchanted ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He touched the rains with a dreamy sound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But alas, he vanished, and Time appeared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Spirit of Ages, old and weird.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He crushed and scattered my beamy wings;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He dragged me forth from the court of kings;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gave me doubt and a bloom of beard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This Spirit of Ages, old and weird.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wonder went from the field of corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glory died on the craggy horn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And suddenly all was strange and gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rocks came out on the trodden way.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hear no more the wild thrush sing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is silent now on the peach aswing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something is gone from the house of mirth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something is gone from the hills of Earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time hurries me on with a wizard hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He turns the Earth to a homeless land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He stays my life with a stingy breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And darkens its depths with foreknowledge of death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Calls memories back on their path apace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sends desperate thoughts to the soul’s dim place.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pushes us on to the windowless inn.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_SATYR_SONG" id="A_SATYR_SONG"></a>A Satyr Song</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know by the stir of the branches<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The way she went;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at times I can see where a stem<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the grass is bent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She’s the secret and light of my life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She allures to elude;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I follow the spell of her beauty<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whatever the mood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have followed all night in the hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And my breath is deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she flies on before like a voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the vale of sleep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I follow the print of her feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the wild river bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lo, she calls gleefully down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From a cliff overhead.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT" id="A_CRY_IN_THE_NIGHT"></a>A Cry in the Night</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wail, wail, wail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the fleering world goes down:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the song of the poet pale<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mixes the laugh of the clown.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Grim, grim, grim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is the road we go to the dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet we must on, for a Something dim<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pushes the soul ahead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where, where, where,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through the dust and shadow of things<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will the fleeing Fates with their wild manes bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">These tribes of slaves and kings?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FAYS" id="FAYS"></a>Fays</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One secret night, I stood where ocean pours<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eternal waters on the yellow shores,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw the drift of fays that Prosper saw:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Their feet had no more sound than blowing straw.)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And little hands held light in little hands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They chased a fleeing billow down the sands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But turned in the nick o’ time, and mad with glee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raced back again before the swelling sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_DEATH_VALLEY" id="IN_DEATH_VALLEY"></a>In Death Valley</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around were heaps of ruins piled between<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One pillar rose up dark against the moon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was a nameless Presence everywhere;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the gray soil there was a purple stain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was the mark of some ancestral grief&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grief that began before the ancient Flood.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AT_DAWN" id="AT_DAWN"></a>At Dawn</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Just then the branches lightly stirred....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See, out o’ the apple boughs a bird<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bursts music-mad into the blue abyss:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rothschild would give his gold for this&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wealth of nations, if he knew:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And find a profit in the business, too.)<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FOLLOW_ME" id="FOLLOW_ME"></a>“Follow Me”</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O friend, we never choose the better part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until we set the Cross up in the heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know I can not live until I die&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I am nailed upon it wild and high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sleep in the tomb for a full three days dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With angels at the feet and at the head.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But then in a great brightness I shall rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To walk with stiller feet below the skies.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="IN_POPPY_FIELDS" id="IN_POPPY_FIELDS"></a>In Poppy Fields</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here the poppy hosts assemble:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How they startle, how they tremble!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All their royal hoods unpinned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blow out lightly in the wind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here is gold to labor for;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here is pillage worth a war.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Men that in the cities grind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come! before the heart is blind.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS" id="THE_JOY_OF_THE_HILLS"></a>The Joy of the Hills</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I ride on the mountain tops, I ride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have found my life and am satisfied.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onward I ride in the blowing oats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Checking the field-lark’s rippling notes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lightly I sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From steep to steep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over my head through the branches high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come glimpses of a rushing sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tall oats brush my horse’s flanks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bee booms out of the scented grass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A jay laughs with me as I pass.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Life’s hoard of regret&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All the terror and pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the chafing chain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Grind on, O cities, grind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I leave you a blur behind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am lifted elate&mdash;the skies expand:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here the world’s heaped gold is a pile of sand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let them weary and work in their narrow walls:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ride with the voices of waterfalls!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I swing on as one in a dream&mdash;I swing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down the airy hollows, I shout, I sing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world is gone like an empty word:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My body’s a bough in the wind, my heart a bird!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE" id="THE_INVISIBLE_BRIDE"></a>The Invisible Bride</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The low-voiced girls that go<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In gardens of the Lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like flowers of the field they grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In sisterly accord.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their whispering feet are white<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Along the leafy ways;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They go in whirls of light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too beautiful for praise.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in their band forsooth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is one to set me free&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one that touched my youth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The one God gave to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She kindles the desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whereby the gods survive&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The white ideal fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That keeps my soul alive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now at the wondrous hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She leaves her star supreme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And comes in the night’s still power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To touch me with a dream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sibyl of mystery<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On roads beyond our ken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softly she comes to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And goes to God again.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_VALLEY" id="THE_VALLEY"></a>The Valley</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know a valley in the summer hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haunted by little winds and daffodils;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faint footfalls and soft shadows pass at noon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Noiseless, at night, the clouds assemble there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ghostly summits hang below the moon&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dim visions lightly swung in silent air.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE" id="THE_CLIMB_OF_LIFE"></a>The Climb of Life</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There’s a feel of all things flowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And no power of Earth can bind them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There’s a sense of all things growing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through all their forms a-glowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shaping souls behind them.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the break of beauty heightens<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the swiftening of the motion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the soul behind it lightens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a gleam of splendor whitens<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From a running wave of ocean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See the still hand of the Shaper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Moving in the dusk of being:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burns at first a misty taper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the moon in veil of vapor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the rack of night is fleeing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the stone a dream is sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Just a tinge of life, a tremor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the tree a soul is creeping&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last, a rush of angels sweeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the skies beyond the dreamer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So the Lord of Life is flinging<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out a splendor that conceals Him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the God is softly singing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on secret ways is winging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the rush of song reveals Him.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_TRAGEDY" id="THE_TRAGEDY"></a>The Tragedy</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the fret of the brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the wounds and the worry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the thought of love and the thought of death&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the soul in its silent hurry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the stars break above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the fields flower under;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the tragical life of man goes on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Surrounded by beauty and wonder.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="DIVINE_VISION" id="DIVINE_VISION"></a>Divine Vision</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Can it be the Master knows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the Cosmic Blossom blows?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, at times the Lord of Light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breaks forth wonderful and white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He strikes a corded lyre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a rush of whirlwind fire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He sees before Him pass<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Souls and planets in a glass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And within the music hears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the motions of all spheres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the whispers of all feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries of triumph and retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Songs of systems and of souls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Circling to their mighty goals.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So the Lord of Light beholds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the Cosmic Flower unfolds.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MIDSUMMER_NOON" id="MIDSUMMER_NOON"></a>Midsummer Noon</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yonder a workman, under the cool bridge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resting at mid-day, watches the glancing midge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While twinkling lights and murmurs of the stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pass into the dim fabric of his dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The misty hollows and the drowsy ridge&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How like an airy fantasy they seem.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW" id="ONE_LIFE_ONE_LAW"></a>One Life, One Law</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What do we know&mdash;what need we know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the great world to which we go?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We peer into the tomb, and hark:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its walls are dim, its doors are dark.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Be still, O mourning heart, nor seek<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make the tongueless silence speak:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be still, be strong, nor wish to find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their way who leave the world behind&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Voices and forms forever gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the darkness of the dawn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What is their wisdom, clear and deep?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That as men sow they surely reap,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That every thought, that every deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sown into the soul for seed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They have no word we do not know,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet the cherubim aglow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With God: we know that virtue saves,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know no more beyond the graves.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="GRIEFS" id="GRIEFS"></a>Griefs</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The rains of winter scourged the weald,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For days they darkened on the field:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, where the wings of winter beat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poppies ripple in the wheat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And pitiless griefs came thick and fast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life’s bough was naked in the blast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till silently amid the gloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They blew the wintry heart to bloom.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AN_OLD_ROAD" id="AN_OLD_ROAD"></a>An Old Road</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A host of poppies, a flight of swallows;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flurry of rain, and a wind that follows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shepherds the leaves in the sheltered hollows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the forest is shaken and thinned.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Over my head are the firs for rafter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crows blow south, and my heart goes after;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I kiss my hands to the world with laughter&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is it Aidenn or mystical Ind?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the whirl of the fields in the windy weather!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the barley breaks and blows together!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, glad is the free bird afloat on the heather&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, the whole world is glad of the wind!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_NEW-COMERS" id="THE_NEW-COMERS"></a>The New-Comers</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two swallows&mdash;each preening a long glossy feather;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now they gossip and dart through the silvery weather;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, praise to the Highest&mdash;two lovers together&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Free, free in the fathomless world of air.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No fate to oppose and no fortune to sunder;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blue sky overhead&mdash;green sky breaking under;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their home on the cliff in the midst of the wonder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hung high beyond fear on the gray granite stair.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MUSIC" id="MUSIC"></a>Music</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It is the last appeal to man&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Voice crying since the world began;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cry of the Ideal&mdash;cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To aspirations that would die.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last appeal! in it is heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pathos of the final word.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Voice tender and heroical&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Imperious voice that knoweth well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wreck the reasonings of years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To strengthen rebel hearts with tears.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FAY_SONG" id="FAY_SONG"></a>Fay Song</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My life is a dream&mdash;a dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the moon’s cool beam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some day I shall wake and desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A touch of the infinite fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now ’tis enough that I be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the light of the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enough that I climb with the cloud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the winds of the morning are loud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enough that I fade with the stars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the door of the East unbars.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_OLD_EARTH" id="THE_OLD_EARTH"></a>The Old Earth</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How will it be if there we find no traces&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There in the Golden Heaven&mdash;if we find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No memories of the old Earth left behind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No visions of familiar forms and faces&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reminders of old voices and old places?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet could we bear it if it should remind?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="DIVINE_ADVENTURE" id="DIVINE_ADVENTURE"></a>Divine Adventure</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At times a youth (so whispered legend tells),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Hylas, stoops to drink<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By forest-hidden brink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fair hands draw him down to darkened wells;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair hands that hold him fast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With laughter at the last<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have power to draw him lightly down to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In elfin chambers under the gray sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I, O men of Earth, I too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When dawn was at the dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was drawn as Hylas downward and beheld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spirits of youth and eld&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was swung down endless caverns to the deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw fervid jewels sparkle in their sleep,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw glad gnomes working in the dusty light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw great rocks crouching in the primal night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I was drawn down, and after many days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returned with stiller feet to walk the upper ways.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SONG_MADE_FLESH" id="SONG_MADE_FLESH"></a>Song Made Flesh</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have no glory in these songs of mine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If one of them can make a brother strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It came down from the peaks of the divine&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I heard it in the Heaven of Lyric Song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The one who builds the poem into fact,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He is the rightful owner of it all:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pale words are with God’s own power packed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When brave souls answer to their buglecall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so I ask no man to praise my song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But I would have him build it in his soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that great praise would make me glad and strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And build the poem to a perfect whole.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS" id="TO_HIGH-BORN_POETS"></a>To High-born Poets</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A cry from the toilers of Babylon for their rest.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Poet, thou art holden with a vow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The light of higher worlds is on thy brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Freedom’s star is soaring in thy breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go, be a dauntless voice, a bugle-cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In darkening battle when the winds are high&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A clear sane cry wherein the God is heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To speak to men the one redeeming word.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No peace for thee, no peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till blind oppression cease;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The stones cry from the walls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the gray injustice falls&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till strong men come to build in freedom-fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pillars of the new Fraternal State.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Let trifling pipe be mute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fling by the languid lute:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take down the trumpet and confront the Hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And speak to toil-worn nations from a tower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take down the horn wherein the thunders sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blow battles into men&mdash;call down the fire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The daring, the long purpose, the desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Descend with faith into the Human Deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ringing to the troops of right a cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make known the Truth of Man in holy fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Send forth thy spirit in a storm of song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A tempest flinging fire upon the wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_TOILERS" id="THE_TOILERS"></a>The Toilers</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their blind feet drift in the darkness, and no one is leading;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their toil is the pasture, where hyens and harpies are feeding;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all lands and always, the wronged, the homeless, the humbled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the cliff-like pride of the spoiler is shaken and crumbled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the Pillars of Hell are uprooted and left to their ruin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a rose-garden gladdens the places no rose ever blew in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where now men huddle together and whisper and harken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or hold their bleak hands over embers that die out and darken.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The anarchies gather and thunder: few, few are the fraters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loud is the revel at night in the camp of the traitors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, Shelley, where are you&mdash;where are you? our hearts are a-breaking!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fight in the terrible darkness&mdash;the shame&mdash;the forsaking!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The leaves shower down and are sport for the winds that come after;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so are the Toilers in all lands the jest and the laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of nobles&mdash;the Toilers scourged on in the furrow as cattle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or flung as a meat to the cannons that hunger in battle.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT" id="ON_THE_GULF_OF_NIGHT"></a>On the Gulf of Night</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The world’s sad petrels dwell for evermore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On windy headland or on ocean floor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or pierce the violent skies with perilous flights<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fret men in their palaces o’ nights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breaking enchanted slumber’s easeful boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shudderings of their wild and dolorous note;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They blow about the black and barren skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fill the night with ineffectual cries.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is for them not anything before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sound of sea and sight of soundless shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save when the darkness glimmers with a ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Hope sings softly, <i>Soon it will be day</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then for a golden space the shades are thinned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dawn seems blowing seaward on the wind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon the dark comes wilder than before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swift around them breaks a sullen roar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tempest calls to windward and to lea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And&mdash;they are seabirds on the homeless sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="A_HARVEST_SONG" id="A_HARVEST_SONG"></a>A Harvest Song</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The gray bulk of the granaries uploom against the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The harvest moon has dwindled&mdash;they have housed the corn and rye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now the idle reapers lounge against the bolted doors:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without are hungry harvesters, within enchanted stores.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo, they had bread while they were out a-toiling in the sun:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now they are strolling beggars, for the harvest work is done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are the gods of husbandry: they gather in the sheaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when the autumn strips the wood, they’re drifting with the leaves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They plow and sow and gather in the glory of the corn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know the noon, they know the pitiless rains before the morn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They know the sweep of furrowed fields that darken in the gloom&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little while their hope on earth, then evermore the tomb.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="TWO_TAVERNS" id="TWO_TAVERNS"></a>Two Taverns</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I remember how I lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a bank a summer day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peering into weed and flower:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watched a poppy all one hour;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watched it till the air grew chill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the darkness of the hill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I saw a wild bee dart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the cold to the poppy’s heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw the petals gently spin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shut the little lodger in.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I took the quiet road<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my own secure abode.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All night long his tavern hung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now it rested, now it swung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I asleep in steadfast tower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He asleep in stirring flower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In our hearts the same delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the hushes of the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over us both the same dear care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As we slumbered unaware.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE" id="THE_MAN_UNDER_THE_STONE"></a>The Man under the Stone</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I see a workingman with mouths to feed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up, day after day, in the dark before the dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And coming home, night after night, through the dusk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swinging forward like some fierce silent animal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see a man doomed to roll a huge stone up an endless steep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He strains it onward inch by stubborn inch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crouched always in the shadow of the rock....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See where he crouches, twisted, cramped, misshapen!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lifts for their life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The veins knot and darken&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blood surges into his face....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now he loses&mdash;now he wins&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now he loses&mdash;loses&mdash;(God of my soul!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He digs his feet into the earth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There’s a moment of terrified effort.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will the huge stone break his hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crush him as it plunges to the gulf?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The silent struggle goes on and on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like two contending in a dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER" id="SONG_TO_THE_DIVINE_MOTHER"></a>Song to the Divine Mother<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come, Mighty Mother, from the bright abode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lift the low heavens and hush the Earth again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come when the moon throws down a shining road<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the sea&mdash;come back to weary men.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But if the moon throws out across the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too dim a light, too wavering a way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come when the sunset paves a path for Thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the waters fading into gray.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dead nations saw Thee dimly in release&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Aphrodite rising from the foam:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some glimmer of Thy beauty was on Greece,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some trembling of Thy passion was on Rome.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For ages Thou hast been the dim desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That warmed the bridal chamber of the mind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come burning through the heavens with Holy Fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And spread divine contagion on mankind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come down, O Mother, to the helpless land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That we may frame our Freedom into Fate:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come down, and on the throne of nations stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That we may build Thy beauty in the State.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come shining in upon our daily road,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Uphold the hero heart and light the mind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quicken the strong to lift the People’s load,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bring back buried justice to mankind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shine through the frame of nations for a light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Move through the hearts of heroes in a song:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is Thy beauty, wilder than the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That hushed the heavens and keeps the high gods strong.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know, Supernal Woman, Thou dost seek<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No song of man, no worship and no praise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thou wouldst have dead lips begin to speak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And dead feet rise to walk immortal ways.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet listen, Mighty Mother, to the child<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who has no voice but song to tell his grief&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nothing but tears and broken numbers wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nothing but woodland music for relief.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His song is but a little broken cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Less than the whisper of a river reed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet thou canst hear in it the souls that die&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Feel in its pain the vastness of our need.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I would not break the mouth of song to tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My life’s long passion and my heart’s long grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Thou canst hear the ocean in one shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And see the whole world’s winter in one leaf.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So here I stand at the world’s weary feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And cry the sorrow of the world’s dumb years:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cry because I hear the world’s heart beat<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weary of hope, weary of life and tears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For ages Thou hast breathèd upon mankind<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A faint wild tenderness, a vague desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ages stilled the whirlwinds of the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sent on lyric seers the rush of fire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And yet the world is held by wintry chain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dead to Thy social passion, Holy One:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dried-up furrows need the vital rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cold seeds the quick spirit of the sun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some day our homeless cries will draw Thee down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the old brightness on the ways of men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will send a hush upon the jangling town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And broken hearts will learn to love again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come, Bride of God, to fill the vacant Throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Touch the dim Earth again with sacred feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come build the Holy City of white stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And let the whole world’s gladness be complete.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come with the face that hushed the heavens of old&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come with Thy maidens in a mist of light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haste for the night falls and the shadows fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And voices cry and wander on the height.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_FLYING_MIST" id="THE_FLYING_MIST"></a>The Flying Mist</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I watch afar the moving Mystery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wool-shod, formless terror of the sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Mystery whose lightest touch can change<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world God made to phantasy, death-strange.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under its spell all things grow old and gray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they will be beyond the Judgment Day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All voices, at the lifting of some hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seem calling to us from another land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it the still Power of the Sepulcher<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That makes all things the wraiths of things that were?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It touches, one by one, the wayside posts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they are gone, a line of hurrying ghosts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It creeps upon the towns with stealthy feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men are phantoms on a phantom street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It strikes the towers and they are shafts of air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the spectres passing in the square.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The city turns to ashes, spire by spire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mountains perish with their peaks afire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fading city and the falling sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are swallowed in one doom without a cry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It tracks the traveler fleeing with the gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fleeing toward home and friends without avail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It springs upon him and he is a ghost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A blurred shape moving on a soundless coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God! it pursues my love along the stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swirls round her and she is forever dream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What Hate has touched the universe with eld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left me only in a world dispelled?<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD" id="FROM_THE_HAND_OF_A_CHILD"></a>From the Hand of a Child</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One day a child ran after me in the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give me a half-blown rose, a fire-white rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its stem all warm yet from the tight-shut hand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little gift seemed somehow more to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all men strive for in the turbid towns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all they hoard up through a long wild life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as I breathed the heart-breath of the flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Youth of Earth broke on me like a dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I was with the wide-eyed wondering things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Back in the far forgotten buried time.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lost world came back softly with the rose:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw a glad host follow with lusty cries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Diana flying with her maidens white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down the long reaches of the laureled hills.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the sea I saw a wreath of girls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fading to air in far-off poppy fields.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw a blithe youth take the open road:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His thoughts ran on before him merrily;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes he dipped his feet in stirring brooks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At night he slept upon a bed of boughs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This in my soul. Then suddenly a shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A spectre wearing yet the mask of dust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jostled against me as he passed, and lo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The jarring city and the drift of feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surged back upon me like the grieving sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS" id="AT_THE_MEETING_OF_SEVEN_VALLEYS"></a>At the Meeting of Seven Valleys</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At the meeting of seven valleys in the west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I came upon a host of silent souls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seated beside still waters on the grass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was a place of memories and tears&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Terrible tears. I rested in a wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there the bird that mourns for Itys sang&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Itys that touched the tears of all the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But climbing onward toward the purple peaks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I passed, on silent feet, white multitudes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond the reach of peering memories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lying asleep upon the scented banks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their bodies burning with celestial fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mighty awe came on me at the thought&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The strangeness of the beatific sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vision of God, the mystic bread of rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_ROCK-BREAKER" id="THE_ROCK-BREAKER"></a>The Rock-Breaker</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pausing he leans upon his sledge, and looks&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A labor-blasted toiler;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So have I seen, on Shasta’s top, a pine<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stand silent on a cliff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stript of its glory of green leaves and boughs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its great trunk split by fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its gray bark blackened by the thunder-smoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its life a sacrifice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To some blind purpose of the destinies.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH" id="THESE_SONGS_WILL_PERISH"></a>These Songs Will Perish</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">These songs will perish like the shapes of air&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The singer and the songs die out forever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But star-eyed Truth (greater than song or singer)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweeps hurrying on: far off she sees a gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon a peak. She cried to man of old<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To build the enduring, glad Fraternal State&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries yet through all the ruins of the world&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through Karnack, through the stones of Babylon&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries for a moment through these fading songs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On wingèd feet, a form of fadeless youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She goes to meet the coming centuries,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, hurrying, snatches up some human reed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blows through it once her terror-bearing note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And breaks and throws away. It is enough<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we can be a bugle at her lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To scatter her contagion on mankind.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTE:</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This song should be read in the light of the deep and
+comforting truth that the Divine Feminine as well as the Divine
+Masculine Principle is in God&mdash;that he is Father-Mother, Two-in-One. It
+follows from this truth that the dignity of womanhood is grounded in the
+Divine Nature itself. The fact that the Deity is Man-Woman was known to
+the ancient poets and sages, and was grafted into the nobler religions
+of mankind. The idea is implied in the doctrine of the Divine Father,
+taught by our Lord in the Gospels; and it is declared in the first
+chapter of Genesis in the words: “God said, ‘Let Us make men in Our
+image, after Our likeness.’ ... So God created man in His own image, in
+the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.”</p></div>
+
+</div>
+<hr class="full" />
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH THE HOE, AND OTHER POEMS ***</div>
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