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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..31e4341 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67012 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67012) diff --git a/old/67012-0.txt b/old/67012-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 10259c6..0000000 --- a/old/67012-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2569 +0,0 @@ -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.” - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH THE HOE, AND OTHER -POEMS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <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>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span>  </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>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span>  </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 & McCLURE COMPANY<br /> -1899<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>  </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>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span>  </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>  </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.—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More filled with signs and portents for the soul—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With those who shaped him to the thing he is—<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—<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—<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—<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—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—<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?—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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.—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To build with song again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The broken hope of men—<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—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.—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—the King—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why in my song the sound of ocean dwells—<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—<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—<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—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—<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,—<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—<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—<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—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,—<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—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—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—climb to a valley under ban,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where west winds set a thousand bells ablow—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A satyr steps—a wood-god’s dewy notes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Come faintly from a vale of tossing oats.—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That somehow he is greater even than Heaven—<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—<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—<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—</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—<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—<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—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—<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—hark!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His song dies gently—it is growing dark—<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—<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—<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—<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—no:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down that amorphous gulf I cannot go—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Your hair blown gold and all your body white—<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—<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—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—<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—<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—what is truth—<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—<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—<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—<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>—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of joy and the end of joy and the end of all—<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—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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That might have been—and now can never be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Tell me no more of these—<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—<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—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—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—it wanders in a dream—<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—you know the way—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I follow, I rejoice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I fade away into the Age of Gold—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We two together lost in forest old.—<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—<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—he sways—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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was the mark of some ancestral grief—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—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—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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The one that touched my youth—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—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—<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?—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That as men sow they surely reap,—<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,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor yet the cherubim aglow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With God: we know that virtue saves,—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life’s bough was naked in the blast—<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—<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—<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—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—two lovers together—<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—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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Voice crying since the world began;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cry of the Ideal—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—<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—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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There in the Golden Heaven—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—<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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cry from the toilers of Babylon for their rest.—<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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Take down the horn wherein the thunders sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blow battles into men—call down the fire—<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—where are you? our hearts are a-breaking!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fight in the terrible darkness—the shame—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—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—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—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—<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—<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—now he wins—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now he loses—loses—(God of my soul!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He digs his feet into the earth—<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—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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cries yet through all the ruins of the world—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through Karnack, through the stones of Babylon—<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—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> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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