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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78264-0.txt b/78264-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a951e99 --- /dev/null +++ b/78264-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4791 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78264 *** + + + + + _From + The + Hidden + Way_ + + + + +BOOKS _by_ MR. CABELL + + +_Biography_: + + BEYOND LIFE + FIGURES OF EARTH + DOMNEI + CHIVALRY + JURGEN + THE LINE OF LOVE + THE HIGH PLACE + GALLANTRY + THE CERTAIN HOUR + THE CORDS OF VANITY + FROM THE HIDDEN WAY + THE RIVET IN GRANDFATHER’S NECK + THE EAGLE’S SHADOW + THE CREAM OF THE JEST + STRAWS AND PRAYER-BOOKS + + +_Scholia_: + + THE LINEAGE OF LICHFIELD + TABOO + THE JEWEL MERCHANTS + + JURGEN AND THE LAW + (_Edited by Guy Holt_) + + + + + FROM THE + HIDDEN WAY + + _Dizain des Échos_ + + BY + JAMES BRANCH CABELL + + “_Tell me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora, the lovely Roman? + Where’s Hipparchia? and where is Thaïs?... Where is Echo?_” + + ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY + NEW YORK : : : : : : 1924 + + + + + Revised Version, Copyright, + 1916, by JAMES BRANCH CABELL + + _Printed in the + United States of America_ + + Published, 1924 + + + + + TO + BEVERLEY BLAND MUNFORD + + (_31 May 1910_) + + “Most blithe and sage and gentle, and most brave! + O true clear heart, so quick to wake and war + Against despondency, lest questioning mar + One hour of living, or foiled hopes enslave + And sour another’s living! not to the grave + Do we commit you,--we that, watching, are + As men at twilight noting which bright star + Is leaped at, missed, clutched, swallowed by which wave. + + “The star is gone?--So be it. It will rise + Elsewhere, and undiminished. Even thus + We know that instantly in Paradise-- + Yea, in the inmost court of Heaven’s house,-- + A gentleman to God lifts those brave eyes + Which yesterday made life more brave for us.” + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + APOLOGIA AUCTORIS 3 + + + I.--MIGONITIS + + AT OUTSET 13 + + THE OLDEST STORY 15 + + FALSE DAWN IN TROY 19 + + EASTER EVE 23 + + ST. MAGDALENE 24 + + MARCUS AURELIUS: A SUPPRESSED “MEDITATION” 26 + + AMAIMON VISITS THE THEBAID 28 + + DAME VENUS IN THURINGIA 33 + + + II.--EPISTROPHIA + + ONE END OF LOVE 37 + + VILLON QUITS FRANCE 40 + + INVOCATION: TO THE DARK VENUS 42 + + RONSARD RE-VOICES A TRUISM 45 + + JAUNTS FROM STRATFORD 47 + + INVITATION TO THE VOYAGE 49 + + STORY OF THE FLOWERY KINGDOM 52 + + THE HOIDENS 54 + + + III.--LIBITINA + + ACCORDING TO THEIR FOLLY 59 + + FOOT-NOTE FOR IDYLS 61 + + THE GOD-FATHER 63 + + BALLAD OF THE DESTROYER 66 + + EXHORTATION TOWARD ALMSGIVING 69 + + COMFORT FOR CENTENARIANS 71 + + THE CONQUEROR PASSES 73 + + THE MENDICANTS 76 + + + IV.--HORTENSIS + + ALONE IN APRIL 81 + + “--BUT WISDOM IS JUSTIFIED OF HER CHILDREN” 83 + + THE LOVERS’ DOXOLOGY 85 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY 86 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY-FIVE 87 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY-EIGHT 89 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT THIRTY 91 + + THE DOTARD CONJURER 92 + + + V.--MELÆNIS + + UNCHARTED 97 + + SCHOOL-SONG 99 + + “AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING--” 101 + + BALLAD OF THE DOUBLE-SOUL 102 + + WHEN TRAVELLERS RETURN 105 + + ANNALS 106 + + “--AND EVER SHALL BE” 109 + + THE PERFECT REASON 111 + + + VI.--SCOTEIA + + TWO IN TWILIGHT 115 + + “IN FINE,--” 118 + + STY-SONG 119 + + THE TOY-MAKER 121 + + THE CASTLE OF CONTENT 122 + + THE PARODIST 124 + + THE DARK COMPANION 125 + + SEA-SCAPES 127 + + + VII.--VERTICORDIA + + THE AGELESS MAID 131 + + FROM AFAR 133 + + COMPETITORS 135 + + THE STRIKING HOUR 137 + + LIGHTS OF THE WORLD 140 + + “--OF ANISE AND CUMMIN ALSO” 142 + + “SWEET ADELAIS” 144 + + LOVE’S LOVERS 148 + + + VIII.--RIDENS + + BALLAD OF PLAGIARY 153 + + TOUCHING UBIQUITY 156 + + FANCIES IN FILIGREE 158 + + IT IS ENOUGH 160 + + AN ARCADIAN APOLOGIZES 162 + + ARCADIANS CONFER IN EXILE 163 + + THE EAVESDROPPERS 166 + + NOSTALGIA 168 + + + IX.--APATURIA + + GRAY DAYS 173 + + A WOOD-PIECE 175 + + LOVE GOES INTO WINTER QUARTERS 176 + + FLOTSAM 179 + + HEIRS UNAPPARENT 180 + + THE SUN’S HIGHWAY 182 + + THE OLDEST DITTY 185 + + TO THE SAME AIR AS THE PRECEDING 186 + + + X.--ARMATA + + LIGHT COINAGE 189 + + GRAVE GALLANTRY 191 + + BY-WORDS 194 + + ANOTHER LABORER WEIGHS HIS HIRE 195 + + RETRACTIONS 197 + + GARDEN-SONG 208 + + THE CAVERN OF PHIGALIA 210 + + AT PARTING 211 + + + + + APOLOGIA AUCTORIS + + “_Vous entendez bien joncherie?_” + + + + + APOLOGIA AUCTORIS + + +In agreeing to collaborate with Mr. Cabell, in preparing this volume +of his selections from my inedited verses, I have been influenced by a +number of considerations. I am attempting in this place to indicate a +few of these. + +To begin with, it is generally known--according to the literary +reviewers,--that nowadays we are producing an indigenous “new” +poetry, of hitherto unknown directness and simplicity; and that, in +consequence, America is rendering her poets the unprecedented tribute +of purchasing their volumes. That, of course, is one consideration. + +Conceivably, too, I think, it may be not unsalutary, at this especial +moment, to contrast the output of what has been, in another place, not +inappropriately described as “the new naïveté” with the productions +of poets who were in reality naïve. Conceivably, at least, one way +of learning what is actually “natural” is to observe the ways of +unsophisticated persons. This much preamble comes as warning that +hereinafter you may look to encounter, in default of the debatable +simplicities of “new” poetry, those genuinely simple melodies which +were born of ages less complex. + + § + +I admit that, poetry having become in some sort a salable commodity, +a book of verse no longer absolutely demands, as in the old days, a +preface to explain and palliate its existence. None the less, these +verses based upon pre-Renaissance formulæ must keep to the fashion of +their time, and come with a prose pursuivant. + +For the way needs clearing, since the road is clogged with the makings +of an ugly syllogism. No matter with what joy we may admire “the new +naïveté,” the poverty of thought evinced in mediæval poetry remains +notorious; and it is, after all, only the mental gist of a poem which +is translatable. + +Yet, in truth, the feature which repels, and troubles us, is not so +much that the thoughts of these men were feeble as that their beliefs +were firm. The springtide awakens loveliness and human joy therewith, +true love ennobles the lover, and death is a terrific adventuring +into the dark; such was their simple _credo_: and their belief in its +tenets was unquestioning. Now, it is perhaps more subtle to consider +spring as a meteorological phenomenon, love as an ingenious device for +perpetuating the species, and death as a logical progression toward +higher spheres of activity; yet each may be a miracle, for all that; +and not any longer to see its wonder may quite conceivably be loss +rather than gain. Ophthalmia is at the best an infirm basis whereon to +assume airs of superiority. + +Just so, these mediæval rhymesters wrote by choice of what to us seems +prosaic because to them it was throughout heart-shakingly strange. +Their more alert perceptions were aware of a continuous wonderfulness, +on every side, which we have learned to overlook. It really is +astounding, when you come sanely to think of it, to find a frost-nipped +world converted overnight into a place of warmth and beauty; and +they said so, in the best language they could muster. We heirs of +more sophisticated ages cannot but assent; yet even those few of us +who are still guilty, say, once in a blue moon, of reading a little +time-honored verse, avert with more congenial interest toward the +straggling eccentricities of _vers libre_ and of polyphonic prose, with +such eye-arresting gambits as “We maidens are many of us older than +sheep,” and “Hey, old world, shove your staid bonnet over your ear!” + +It were flippant to suggest this is the interest that we accord, with +livelier concern, to any other approach of the mentally unbalanced. +Yet wonder, not bewilderment, is the gateway to the palace of art. The +grand power of poetry, in particular, is its interpretative faculty +of so dealing with familiar things as to awaken a full and new sense +of their strangeness. And life affords nothing more remarkable than +its truisms. There is a waggish saying somewhere as to how eagerly we +would all scramble for the best seats if God heralded the coming of +the crocus by mailing circulars or announced a sunrise via the public +journals. The conceit is sound; for Omnipotence would, so to speak, +be versifying the commonplace by stressing its importance, much as +a noble rhyme and meter emphasize so insistently the thought they +clothe that the whole matter dwindles into bathos if (after all) the +thought prove mediocre. Yet the real wonderfulness of the terrestrial +pageant, even then, would consist, not in its felicities of color, +but in its commonplaceness. For the most beautiful and terrible thing +about a sunrise is that it happens every day. Just so the sun arose +when Pliocene monstrosities held the earth as their heritage, just so +it arose to waken the laborers of Nineveh, just so it arose as the +cock crew and Peter for the third time denied his Master: and just so, +too, it will arise--every day,--when Earth is a frozen clod, trundling +voiceless and naked through infinity. A sunrise has nothing to do with +man’s existence, for all that it serves to time his clocks and rouse +his factory-whistles; and therein lies the fundamental beauty of a +sunrise, which is above and beyond and indifferent to the utmost reach +of human achievement, and is therefore worthy to furnish recreation for +human thought. + + § + +Here, too, we touch one fallacy of our modernists who insist that +poetry should deal with workaday life, and develop the poetic side +of shopwindows and streetcars and pessimism. But in shopwindows and +streetcars and consistent pessimism is to be contemplated nothing +save what man, whether for good or ill, has heaped together in +defiance of nature. He made these things, however curious; he knows +the elements whereof they are compounded; and he comprehends--there +wakens disenchantment--that at a pinch he can patch up something +else of pretty much the same sort. Not hereabouts is to be found +aught fore-ordained and uncontrollable, or the beauty of fatality--of +Ἀνάγκη--and human inefficiency thereunder, such as the old Greeks knew +was necessary to art’s highest strivings. + +And what is this Hellenic Ἀνάγκη, after all, but the commonplace +deified, with humanity as pawns? It is assuredly sheer commonplace +to point out that more or less unpleasantness inevitably follows an +elopement with another man’s wife, or that miscegenation tends to +shorten life; yet works of very real merit have been based upon these +truisms, and nobody worth hearing questions the poetry of the _Iliad_ +or of _Othello_. Nor is in either case the commonplace an inessential; +attempting to imagine Helen as the fiancée of Menelaus, or Othello as a +Caucasian, you flounder into the inconceivable. + +An element of triteness, in fine, must be conceded as necessary to +first class art. That which becomes a classic is, both by etymology +and human nature, something which belongs to a class. It is not in +any way unique; it is innocent of any “disturbing novelty.” Now, +neither Ovid’s Lynceus or Poe’s Dupin, nor even the indestructible Mr. +Holmes (of Baker Street, W. C.), could plausibly detect any disturbing +novelty in the poets of Raynouard’s _Choix des poësies originales des +Troubadours_ and Rochegude’s _Parnasse Occitanien_: and when we find +these tinkling verses, played always on the two strings of love and +death, astonishingly naïve, the thing is partly owing, no doubt, to +our superior perception of the proper ends of poetry, but partly too +to a more obtuse perception of life’s actual wonderfulness. So that in +criticism it behooves us, like Agag of old, to tread softly. By the +rarest luck, there is no such pressing obligation laid on many of us +touching poets--whether immortal or minor,--as compels us either to +criticize or to read. + + § + +And, truly, it is this consideration, above all others, which emboldens +me to make a volume out of those verses that, for the most part, I +“adapted” during my college life, from bardic byways of even more +ancient eras.... For the rest, a formal bibliography of the sources +of this little book was begun, and laid aside as entailing too much +labor squandered to no utilitarian end. Petronius and Villon, at +worst, require scant introduction to a generation which, the day +before yesterday at any rate, was familiar with _Quo Vadis_ and _If I +Were King_. With Alessandro de Medici, as he misconducts himself in +de Musset’s _Lorenzaccio_, many of us preserve a bowing acquaintance, +however few extend the intimacy to include his Latin or Italian +verses; which, if not positively unknown, would appear to have been +overshadowed, even for the specialist, by the similar diversions of +Alessandro’s more gifted great-grandfather, Lorenzo the Magnificent. +Then, too, Raimbaut de Vaqueiras and his beloved Belhs Cavaliers figure +at respectable length in all books treating of Provençal poetry. And +Nicolas de Caen has, at any event, afforded the late Mr. Howard Pyle +the subject-matter for some striking paintings. + +To the other side, apart from any poetical repute, oblivion has +swallowed even Antoine Riczi’s queer part in the matrimonial affairs +of King Henry the Fourth of England. Such unfamiliar names as Charles +Garnier and Théodore Passerat and Alphonse Moreau are not likely ever +to cut a dash in popular romance; and, for very obvious reasons, just +as in the cases of Petronius and Villon, their verses have never been +adjudged particularly suitable for undergraduates to worry through in +colleges. These, therefore, are indisputably forgotten, if indeed in +any general sense they were ever known. Yet here as elsewhere--one +would like to think at least, with the discoverer’s thrill--the +“iniquity of oblivion” has scattered her poppy with rather injudicious +cæcity. + +If Petronius be not precisely mediæval, he is past doubt more +antiquated than his present company in nothing save an accident of +birth. And the inclusion of those scattered pieces hereinafter given +severally under the name of Paul Verville has seemed on various grounds +desirable, in spite of their (comparative) modernity of tone. Into the +making of such decisions must always enter, of course, an element of +purely personal taste, wherewith proverbially there can be no disputing +to the arraigner’s profit. To those who do not honor maxims, it can but +be answered, with profound irrationality, that all the verses in this +book possess at least the common feature of owing their existence in +English to the fact that, once upon a time, to put them into English +seemed to their transcriber a natural and desirable action. No other +bond has ever united the contents of any book of English verse. And +although this particular excuse for making rhymes may very often prove +inadequate, experience tends to show that any other reason proves so +invariably. + + § + +This book’s sub-title appears to me a bit affected. But Mr. Cabell +believes that it will please reviewers, by enabling them to start +off with a smart witticism about its applicability to other books: +and so I yield.... Moreover, I find that, in printing a collection +of “adapted” verses, there seems to be no Median or Persic makeshift +whereby plodding translation may, with the desirable precision, be +distinguished from those less faithful paraphrases in which the +plagiarist has more temerariously pulled about his larcenies. Upon +consideration, this has appeared as satisfactory a rule of thumb as +any:--to indicate the latter class by mention of an author’s name; and +with the former class, to include also the first words of the original. +The curious may seek out at will the victims of some few unacknowledged +borrowings. + + ROBERT ETHERIDGE TOWNSEND. + +LICHFIELD _April, 1924_. + + + + + I + + MIGONITIS + + “_Autant en emporte ly vens_” + + + + + 1 + + AT OUTSET + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + _Depart, depart, my book! and live and die + Dependent on the idle fantasy + Of men who cannot view you, quite, as I_ + + _For I am fond, and willingly mistake + My book to be the book I meant to make, + And cannot judge you, for that phantom’s sake._ + + _Yet pardon me if I have wrought too ill + In making you, that never spared the will + To shape you perfectly, and lacked the skill._ + + _Ah, had I but the power, my book, then I + Had wrought in you some wizardry so high + That no man but had listened...._ + + _They pass by, + And shrug--as we, who know that unto us + It has been granted never to fare thus, + And never to be strong and glorious._ + + _Is it denied me to perpetuate + What so much loving labor did create?-- + I hear Oblivion tap upon the gate, + And acquiesce, not all disconsolate._ + + FOR I HAVE GOT SUCH RECOMPENSE + OF THAT HIGH-HEARTED EXCELLENCE + WHICH THE CONTENTED CRAFTSMAN KNOWS, + ALONE, THAT TO LOVED LABOR GOES, + AND DAILY DOES THE WORK HE CHOSE, + AND COUNTS ALL ELSE IMPERTINENCE! + + + + + 2 + + THE OLDEST STORY + + “_Jadis il était roy d’Argos_” + + --ANTOINE RICZI. + + + He was a king in Argos, + She was a queen in Tyre, + And they went astray from the jogtrot way, + In quest of the heart’s desire. + + They had pillaged, in royal fashion, + Rare raiments and spiceries + From the marts of Argos, to furnish them cargoes + For traffic in far-off seas; + And before them bright waters parted, + And the wind was fair. + + _Because + Love leads us_--they spoke, light-hearted,-- + _Who is lord over man-made laws_. + + The High Gods noted them, idly + Lolling in Paradise, + And remarked they were erring widely + From rules the High Gods devise. + + But the Most High Gods were wise, + And conceded:--_They are not as We + Whom no follies beguile; let them go for a while. + Yet presently all men must see + They attain not to where their desire is, + Lest laxity lose Us men’s love._ + --Thus Wotan ordained, or Osiris, + Or Shiva, or Dagon, or Jove. + --_We must think of Our pontiffs in Argos + And praiseworthy prebends in Tyre, + Who would suffer dismay did the parish essay + To win to man’s heart’s desire._ + + So these two fared ever westward-- + Elate, and in love with life-- + Amid wide reprehension; for histories mention + These were not husband and wife + Who fared westward, ever westward. + --Beyond the Hesperides, + Where the slow long stroke of their gilt oars broke + The lisping of virgin seas, + + They viewed the ends of the earth, + Where the Singing Maidens are + Enthroned above death and birth: + And they still fared ever westward-- + Elate, and alone, and afar + From the yelpings of little people,-- + For they viewed the ends of the earth. + + Then the Gods gave word: and Their thunders stirred + To requite, and to silence mirth; + And that roving vessel was shattered + As a handful of shaken dust + Ere twice They thundered. + + All peoples wondered, + And cried:--_Lo, the Gods are just, + And, look you, abated no tittle + Of punishment due these twain. + Even though They slumbered a little, + We knew They would waken again: + And, whether it was Bubastis, + Or Milcom, or Artemis + Or Baäl, or Zeus, interrupted this cruise, + We knew it would end in this + When he was a king in Argos, + And she was a queen in Tyre, + And they went astray from the jogtrot way, + In quest of the heart’s desire._ + + THE OLD SONOROUS NAMES OF THESE + THAT FARED BEYOND THE HESPERIDES + IN QUEST OF REST AND JOY AND EASE, + LONG SINCE WERE MOCKED AT; AND WERE HISSED + TO SEEK, THEY SOUGHT,--AND VIEWED, AND MISSED. + + BUT LIFE REMAINS LIFE’S PLAGIARIST. + + + + + 3 + + FALSE DAWN IN TROY + + “_Helenam omnes amant; invidia semper movente_” + + --ALESSANDRO DE MEDICI. + + + There is no man but loves her, I well know; + Yet mutinous women, muttering with pinched lips, + Cast side-long glances always when--unvexed-- + Queen Helen passes; for she is very fair, + And they have only right and truth with them. + + Women remember all the fevered years + This siege has lasted; all its many ills; + The plague; the hunger; the unnumbered men + Who died because this queen is beautiful,-- + Men whom they loved, and she loved not at all + Nor even knew by name. + + None but remembers + How coldly loved lips kissed her in farewell-- + Coldly, because for fairer lips than hers, + And for the sake of brighter and tearless eyes, + This man went forth to battle. He thereafter + Beheld the plume of lithe Achilles leap + As flame among the fighting, or beheld + The sudden splendor of swart Diomed + Crash through the press of spears; and lay quite still, + Remembering that way Queen Helen has + Of laughter, when the little sigh breaks through + And spoils the music, or her way of speaking, + Which turns to music the most trivial words + Wherein that wonder and that wistfulness + Her voice has always held since Hector died, + Commingles with our rude and alien tongue + As honey with sharp wine. Such idle words + As any man who, with uncovered head, + Waits and makes way when princes will to pass, + May hear of her in passing, gladdened him, + For all that death was fingering his throat + Even now. He was content, remembering her + The Queen. + + For she is very beautiful; + And doubtless Paris, too, gets joy of her + When in that gleaming place which is their home + Her soft arms lift, and clasp his neck, and loose + His helmet--scarcely dented as mine is, + Where that wolf-visaged Greek smote yesterday + Who smites no coward blows to-day, I think. + --But Paris loves not blows. And then he tells + His version of the battle; and they kiss; + And hear shrill women wailing over corpses + Without; and kiss once more. And so he lies + Upon his cushioned couch, and is content,-- + Contented just to lie there, still as they + Who fought for his love’s sake lie now, and feel + Her fingers moving gently mid his curls, + And hear Queen Helen’s laughter. + + It is for this + That hollow-eyed Œnone mumbles charms + On twin-peaked Ida; and gaunt Menelaus + Slays silently; and heaven is wroth; and the banks + Of slothful Styx, made populous with them + Whose bodies rot unburied on the plains + That girdle hapless Troy, are resonant + With lamentation. + + Thus it is for this + One woman’s sake, whose beauty is as a fire + Fed by contending kings with honor and fame + And memories of distant homes and wives, + That all without there is a mighty stir + Of clanging armors, wrangling foreign tongues, + And many Grecian huts about our walls; + And famine and death within. It is for this + One woman’s sake--who sleeps now, and in sleep + Smiles, as I think, who may not see her thus,-- + That we the common soldiers gather here, + Who are as naught in Troy Town, and go forth + As fodder to appease the fury of Death, + Who ravens by Scamander. + + So we meet + In the deep dawn; and furbish up our arms; + And call one to another, in the dusk, + With hearthside sayings and century-old jests, + Until Æneas and Antenor come, + Our leaders, and with sharp words marshalling us, + Bid sound the trumpet, and the Tymbrian gate + Vomits us forth upon the barren plains. + + + + + 4 + + EASTER EVE + + “_Ses meurtriers donc ses rencontraient de bon cœur_” + + --ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + His murderers met. Their consciences were free: + The sun’s eclipse was past, the tumult stilled + In Jewry, and their duty well fulfilled. + + Quoth Caiaphas:--_It wrung my heart to see + His mother’s grief, God knows! Yet blasphemy + Was proven, the uprising imminent, + And all the church-supporting element + Demanded action, sir, of you and me._ + + Quoth Pilate:--_When this Nazarene denied + Even Cæsar’s rule, reluctantly I knew + My duty to the state, sir. Still, I tried, + But found no way, to spare him yet stay true + In loyalty.... And still, the poor lad cried, + “Forgive them, for they know not what they do!”_ + + + + + 5 + + ST. MAGDALENE + + “_Femme je suis, ridée, povrette et ancienne_” + + --THÉODORE PASSERAT. + + + Must I abide forever in this place + Of bloodless folk, amid the vain outcries + Of fools that deem me holy, full of grace, + And skillful in foresaying prophecies? + Thou wouldst not know me in this wrinkled guise-- + How couldst thou, O belovèd? I am she + Thou knewest those mad years in Galilee + When we were young. And now thy tale is told, + And I await death, shivering wretchedly, + A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old. + + They call thee god. Paul, when his choleric face + Enkindles from his ever-blazing eyes, + Swears thou art god, and blusters of a place-- + A city that the man calls Paradise,-- + Wherein thou reignest. Dear, am I not wise + That deem thee worthy of idolatry. + Yet man,--man whom I loved, and verily + Man whom I love, for all that I behold + Thy face no more, beloved, and I be + A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old. + + Yet westerly, where golden clouds enlace + Earth’s rim with heaven’s, kindlier kingdoms rise; + For there the fortunate Far Islands face + The ends of Ocean, and the sacrifice + Burns ever to Dis’ Queen, and no man sighs + In vain for quietude,--where even we + May win such grace of grave Persephonê + As to obliterate woes manifold + In dragging days that fretted sordidly + A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old. + + Man whom I loved, my heart cries out to thee, + _All that thou wert I loved!_--and so, let be + To dream of maids immortal arms enfold, + Nor rank with Dryopê or Danaë + A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old. + + + + + 6 + + MARCUS AURELIUS: A SUPPRESSED “MEDITATION” + + “_L’impératrice a les beaux yeux_” + + --ANTOINE RICZI. + + + Bright eyes in truth Faustina hath: + They are colored like that restive path + Which sunset cleaves across the sea; + They are as chill; it well may be + Their splendors, also, do but screen + Waste wreckage and coiled, slow, obscene, + Vague, ravenous things. It is of this + I think whenever her lips kiss. + + She is brightly colored and soft and frail; + Her beauty like a tinctured veil + Hides and divides her heart from me. + + Nor would I vex your secrecy, + Grave eyes, that screen her unguessed heart, + Wherein I ask not any part; + It is enough that ye are bright. + + I praise you; and am expedite + Once more to touch Faustina’s hair + Caressingly, one instant, where + Her face lifts now, and shows how fair + That body is which Parcæ planned, + And fashioned fitly, to command + Such love as all men understand. + + Grant her unfaithful, and wherein + Am I less favored by Faustine + Than were her heart all faithfulness? + + Fools in their folly face distress; + But wisdom muffles wisdom’s sight + And looks for naught more recondite + In any woman’s grace than this-- + Fair flesh, bright hair, and lips that kiss + So winsomely that thereupon + Man’s wisdom wins oblivion, + And right and reason, swooning, seem + Faint figments of a fool’s fond dream. + + + + + 7 + + AMAIMON VISITS THE THEBAID + + “_Quam luna adest video nocte illusiones dæmonum_” + + --ALESSANDRO DE MEDICI. + + + Each night at moonrise is let forth from hell + In a fair woman’s shape--yea, I know well + How fair it is!--Amaimon; and thus stands + A darkling shade against stilled seas of sands + Made wonderful with moonlight; and speaks not. + What need?--Amaimon knows I have forgot + No one of those soft curves Amaimon wears. + + So have I need of penance and long prayers: + Because since ever time began to be, + No woman, living, was lovelier than she, + Nor statelier,--yea, buoyant with that power + Her beauty loaned, she moved as moves a flower, + Mire-rooted, nodding by a pool wherein + Its double drowns, and dancing when its twin + Struggles in wind-stirred waters. + + Nay, most sweet + Of women, I serve that Man whose tortured feet + Spurned Zeus from heaven, and for human sake + Trod evil down, even as folk tread a snake + And end all, once for all; by night and day + My prayers assail the ears of God, nor stay + For any bodily weakness till I gain + Surety of pardon through my body’s pain. + + Hath God not pardoned me? Men tell of them + That bent with sickness touched my cassock’s hem + And straight were hale. They tell how these poor hands + Raised dead folk even. Throughout distant lands + My fame is spread, where emperors quake to tell + Their harlots of some recent miracle + Which I--nay, which High God performed through me + That God’s sole glory be proclaimed, and be + A scourge to scoffers. + + So, being fain to die, + I bide that day when High God lifts on high + My soul, and sets me with His cherubim, + Remembering how I have striven for Him + And smitten heresy--yea, with sword and flame + Laid waste how many homes!--in His dear name, + Whose wrath is quenchless. + + It is well with me: + O woman the fiend mimics, how is it with thee? + --With thee, enswirled in some unending sweep + Of ageless flame, whose fires forever leap + Like adders round the damned their coils consume + Not ever, nor relinquish! These illume + Bright tender bodies, such as Cæsar kissed + But yesterday, and now long torments twist.... + Ey, what a host of women howl in hell + Who were when they wore flesh so lovable, + And whom men loved as I-- + + But thou art dead, + Rotted, and damned, long since. + + When I am sped + To heaven’s loftiest courts, and thereamong + Made free of heaven, how shall I force my tongue + To honor Him that damned thee? and how be + Content with heaven? What, through eternity + Hear thy voice--thine, my lost love, loved in vain, + And lost, lost, lost, with only heaven to gain!-- + Hear thy voice call in agony to God, + Who likewise hears--and heeds not! + + Ey, once shod + With gold and clad in fair white linen cloth, + Shall I then be quite changed? and not be wroth + With God? but be as God is? and never know + Regret for thee, nor pity for the woe + Of shrieking fire-wrapped folk swept to and fro + Where Satan gibes at them and the worm stings? + + Lust, who is overlord of living things; + Lust, by the heavings of whose leathery wings + The flames of hell are fanned to signal-fires + That mark each haven each human heart desires; + Lust, who with ceaseless and illusive snares + Derides our dreams and prompts us in our prayers; + Lust, who is strong and patient and cautelous, + And whom fiends name Amaimon in Satan’s house: + Plays thus at dice, our stake being my soul’s bliss. + + _Nay, God is love_ (Amaimon whispers this), + _Nor pedant-like peers from far heaven’s vault + To estimate His children’s least light fault + As folk weigh gold, to the last hair-breadth’s worth. + Grant that this woman, living upon earth, + A little leaned to Marcion’s mad creed, + That High God grieves when unbelievers bleed + And Holy Church’s servants, or with rod + Or rack or rope, attest the might of God_:-- + “Because a father’s love, pre-eminent + In Him, contrives no curious punishment, + But, even as earthly fathers check a child, + Reproves, and for love’s sake is reconciled”:-- + _Thus runneth Marcion’s foul heresy. + This woman, then, must burn. It yet may be + All need not burn for all eternity; + And God at last may pardon Donatists, + And Athanasians, and Tritheists-- + Ho, even Marcionites!--as lacking wit + Always to read aright God’s holy writ, + And, therefore, worthier of pity than hate. + For God is love; and love or soon or late + Forgives,--yea, even pardons thy dread to see + In God some burlier counterpart of thee._ + + Such blasphemies Amaimon whispers me + Nightly at moonrise: and I answer not. + What need?--Amaimon knows I have forgot + No one of those soft curves Amaimon wears. + + So have I need of penance and long prayers. + + + + + 8 + + DAME VENUS IN THURINGIA + + “_Icy je regne, et je m’assemble tous les hommes_” + + --THÉODORE PASSERAT. + + + Even to the Hörselberg they follow me, + These men Thou couldst not save: the hollow hill + Is thronged with them that have abandoned Thee + To follow her that yet endures, and will + Outlive all tenets. Canst Thou ever still + Our revelry, O Christ? or canst Thou stay + These lips that on my lover’s lips I lay, + Deriding Thee unpunished? Nay, God wot, + Here rest no pilgrims on Thy bloodless way, + Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not! + + We have no ending to our revelry; + Of lust and drunkenness we have our fill: + Thou hast the uplands, and the sun-bathed sea-- + My mother sea!--is subject to Thy will, + Poor foolish Christ, that hadst not wit to kill + Her whom Thou hadst discrowned. I may not stray + Amid the fields of Paphos, and men pray + No more to me in Eryx; yet no jot + Of lust’s old worship dwindles, even to-day, + Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not. + + Wilt Thou not slay me for much blasphemy? + Strike and have done! Whom kindlier shouldst Thou kill + Than one begotten of the restive sea, + Thus penned, and turned a potent poison till + Man’s folly fail him?--I with futile skill + Snare ceaselessly; and never see the day + Smite huddling golden waves; nor feel the spray + Make glad my lips. My godhood is forgot. + I tread a hill more drear than Golgotha, + Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not. + + Christ, curse me not with immortality! + I once was Aphroditê; must I be + A thing unclean, and unto fools allot + All fools may crave, even for eternity, + Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not? + + + + + II + + EPISTROPHIA + + “_Pour son amour eut cest essoyne_” + + + + + 9 + + ONE END OF LOVE + + “_Yolande dit, en soupirant_” + + --ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + _It is long since we met_,--she said. + I answered,--_Yes._ + + She is not fair, + But very old now, and no gold + Gleams in that scant gray withered hair + Where once much gold was: and, I think. + Not easily might one bring tears + Into her eyes, which have become + Like dusty glass. + + _’Tis thirty years_, + I said.--_And then the war came on + Apace, and our young King had need + Of men to serve him oversea + Against the heathen. For their greed, + Puffed up at Tunis, troubles him_-- + + She said:--_This week my son is gone + To him at Paris with his men._ + And then:--_You never married, John?_ + + I answered,--_No._ And so we sate + Musing a while. + + Then with his guests + Came Robert; and his thin voice broke + Upon my dream, with the old jests, + No food for laughter now; and swore + We must be friends now that our feud + Was overpast. + + _We are grown old,-- + Eh, John?_--he said. _And, by the Rood! + ’Tis time we were at peace with God + Who are not long for this world._ + + --_Yea_, + I answered;--_we are old._ And then, + Remembering that April day + At Calais, and that hawthorn field + Wherein we fought long since, I said:-- + _We are friends now._ + + And she sate by, + Scarce heeding. Thus the evening sped. + + And we ride homeward now, and I + Ride moodily: my palfrey jogs + Along a rock-strewn way the moon + Lights up for us; yonder the bogs + Are curdled with thin ice; the trees + Are naked; from the barren wold + The wind comes like a blade aslant + Across a world grown very old. + + + + + 10 + + VILLON QUITS FRANCE + + “_Demain tous nous mourrons; c’est juste notre affaire_” + + --THÉODORE PASSERAT. + + + We hang to-morrow, then? That doom is fit + For most of us, I think. Yet, harkee, friend, + I have a ballad here which I have writ + Of us and our high ending. Pray you, send + The scrawl to Cayeux, bidding him commend + François to grace. Old Colin loves me well, + For no good reason, save it so befell + We two were young together.... When I am hung, + Colin will weep--and then will laugh, and tell + How many pranks we played when we were young. + + Dear lads of yesterday!... We had not wit + To live always so we might not offend, + Yet--how we laughed! I marvel now at it, + Because that merry company will spend + No more mad nights together. Some are penned + In abbeys, some in dungeons, others fell + In battle.... Time assesses death’s _gabelle_,-- + Salt must be taxed, eh?--well, we ranked among + The salt of earth, once, who are old and tell + How many pranks we played when we were young. + + Afraid to die, you ask?--Why, not a whit. + Ah, no! whole-heartedly I mean to wend + Out of a world I have found exquisite + By every testing. For I apprehend + Life was not made all lovely to the end + That life ensnare us, nor the miracle + Of youth devised but as a trap to swell + Old Legion’s legions; and must give full tongue + To praise no less than prayer, when bidden tell + How many pranks we played when we were young. + + Nay, cheerily we of the Cockle-shell, + And all whose youth was nor to stay nor quell, + Will dare foregather when earth’s knell is rung, + And Calvary’s young conqueror bids us tell + How many pranks we played when we were young. + + + + + 11 + + INVOCATION: TO THE DARK VENUS + + “_Audite litaniam, quam dulce in noctibus quondam_” + + --? ARCHILOCHUS OF SICYON. + + + Hearken and heed, Melænis! + For all that the litany ceased + When time had pilfered the victim, + And flouted thy pale-lipped priest, + And set astir in the temple + Where burned the fires of thy shrine + The owls and wolves of the desert-- + Yet hearken, (_the issue is thine!_) + And let the heart of Atys, + At last, at last, be mine! + + For I have followed, nor faltered-- + Adrift in a land of dreams + Where laughter and pity and terror + Commingle as confluent streams, + I have seen and adored the Sidonian, + Implacable, fair and divine,-- + And bending low, have implored thee + To hearken, (_the issue is thine!_) + And let the heart of Atys, + At last, at last, be mine! + + There are taller lads than Atys, + And many are wiser than he,-- + How should I heed them?--whose fate is + Ever to serve and to be + Ever the lover of Atys, + And die that Atys may dine, + Live if he need me--Then heed me, + And speed me, (_the moment is thine!_) + And let the heart of Atys, + At last, at last, be mine! + + + HIC TONAT: DEA ADEST + + + Fair is the form unbeholden, + And golden the glory of thee + Whose voice is the voice of a vision, + Whose face is the foam of the sea, + And the fall of whose feet is the flutter + Of breezes in birches and pine, + When thou drawest near me, to hear me, + And cheer me, (_the moment is thine!_) + And let the heart of Atys, + At last, at last, be mine! + + * * * * * + + Long I besought thee, nor vainly, + Daughter of Water and Air,-- + Charis! Idalia! Hortensis! + Hast thou not heard the prayer, + When the blood stood still with loving, + And the blood in me leapt like wine, + And I cried on thy name, Melænis?-- + That heard me, (_the glory is thine!_) + And let the heart of Atys, + At last, at last, be mine! + + Falsely they tell of thy dying, + Thou that art older than death; + And never the Hörselberg hid thee, + Whatever the slanderer saith; + For the stars are as heralds forerunning. + When laughter and love combine + At twilight, in thy light, Melænis-- + That heard me, (_the glory is thine!_) + And let the heart of Atys, + At last, at last, be mine! + + + + + 12 + + RONSARD RE-VOICES A TRUISM + + “_Quand vous seres bien vieille, et quand je serais mort_” + + --THÉODORE PASSERAT. + + + When you are very old, and I am gone, + Not to return, it may be you will say-- + Hearing my name and holding me as one + Long dead to you,--in some half-jesting way + Of speech, sweet as vague heraldings of May + Rumored in woods when first the throstles sing:-- + _He loved me once._ And straightway murmuring + My half-forgotten rhymes, you will regret + Evanished times when I was wont to sing + So very lightly, _Love runs into debt._ + + I shall not heed you then. My course being run + For good or ill, I shall have gone my way, + And know you, love, no longer,--nor the sun, + Perchance, nor any light of earthly day, + Nor any joy nor sorrow,--while at play + The world speeds merrily, nor reckoning + Our coming or our going. Lips will cling, + Forswear, and be forsaken, and men forget + Where once our tombs were, and our children sing-- + So very lightly!--_Love runs into debt._ + + If in the grave love have dominion + Will that wild cry not quicken the wise clay, + And taunt with memories of fond deeds undone-- + Some joy untasted, some lost holiday,-- + All death’s large wisdom? Will that wisdom lay + The ghost of any sweet familiar thing + Come haggard from the Past, or ever bring + Forgetfulness of those two lovers met + When all was April?--nor too wise to sing + So very lightly, _Love runs into debt!_ + + Yea, though the years of vain remembering + Draw nigh, and age be drear, yet in the spring + We meet and kiss, whatever hour be set + Wherein all hours attain to harvesting,-- + So very lightly Love runs into debt. + + + + + 13 + + JAUNTS FROM STRATFORD + + --“LOIN DE STRATFORD”: PAUL VERVILLE. + + + III--IN VERONA + + “_Il m’étonne de voir que le vieux Capulet_” + + I had not thought the house of Capulet + Might boast a daughter of such colorful grace + As this whole-hearted girl, with flower-soft face + Round which the glory of her hair is set + Like some great golden halo;--and, as yet, + Love is to her a word that, spoken, spurs + Wonder alone, since love administers + In nothing to the mirth of Juliet. + + What if some day I woke this heart unharried + As yet by love, and won these lips more red + Than rain-tossed cherries?--_Look, the dancers go. + What’s he that would not dance? If he be married + My grave is like to be my wedding-bed._ + --God rest you, sweet! the knave is Romeo. + + + XII--IN TROY + + “_Le Scamandre engourdi, qui la lune illumine_” + + Stagnant Scamander, which the moon--a slight + Frail-seeming crescent toiling through gaunt trees + Mid stars that follow her like golden bees,-- + Makes glittering; beyond its marge a white + Glitter of tossed bleached bones where camp-dogs fight + For offal, and a glitter of panoplies + Where sentinels prowl; and partly shrouding these, + Thin fever-breeding mists and dubious night. + + And one clear song--fond, as all love-songs be-- + From Troilus’ fevered lips that give fond vent + To love and wonder and idolatry, + Snapped short; and mutterings of thunder, blent + With cries of mourners, and the garrulous glee + Of Cressida in Diomedes’ tent. + + + + + 14 + + INVITATION TO THE VOYAGE + + “_Quand le poëte d’Angleterre disait que ce monde_” + + --PAUL VERVILLE. + + + _The world’s a stage?_--Well, faith! it may have seemed so + In days less bleak, when Arden’s brakes were green, + And Rosalind’s low insolent fond laughter + Woke mirth to charm that planet which to-day + Seems all one vast decorous hospital,-- + Germless, immaculate, well-ventilated, + Whitewashed, and odorful with antiseptics. + And we that toss upon the softest beds, + While yet our fever lasts, are impotent + Beneath this dreary burden of right angles + And blank white walls. And so, we twist, and murmur, + And groan, and twitch the coverlets awry, + Which Mrs. Grundy, head-nurse of our ward, + Pats straight again, in curtseying to the doctor. + Lean Dr. Death, who never lost a case, + Comes thus; and daily pauses by one’s bed; + Fingers the pulse; declares the fever abating; + Writes a prescription for the apothecary, + Old Time; then cuts a jest or so,--departing + With dubious promises of one’s discharge + Next year, next month, next week, may be. + + Ha, neighbor, + Slim pale-haired woman with opal-colored eyes, + Why bide his pleasure? Nay, let us steal out + Together, and--blithe mariners faring forth + On chartless seas,--seek out a vessel bound + For some politer port, made point-device + By Fragonard, Watteau, or whom you will + So the contriver of this hospital + Be not the architect. + + Oh, dimly gleams + Our haven; for its ways are vaporous + With smouldering incense, mid whose loitering spirals + Frail cupids weave, eternally, long garlands + Of ribbons and pale roses,--weave unvexed + By any garish sunlight, since one star + Alone peeps out of heaven. See, the moon + Shows like a silver sickle to the west, + But casts no shadows yet; and twilight dims + All glow of color where resistless gallants, + Sleek abbés, and false subtle lovely women + Pass to the sound of tinkling mandolines + And hushed contralto laughter. + + We will make + Rondeaux of life and triolets of death; + And be at peace; and never laugh aloud; + And grieve not though he mar those stately hedges + Wherethrough he leers--gaunt sensual Pierrot!-- + To note the ankles of young Columbine. + + Yes, we will smile to see her pirouette + With Harlequin in shadowed avenues,-- + Yew-shadowed statue-haunted avenues, + Where pensive gods incuriously remember + Put-off omnipotence,--with Harlequin + While tricked Pierrot sings at her father’s window.... + Smile, it may be, but never laugh aloud. + And in the autumn Columbine will die, + And Harlequin be sad a whole half-hour. + But Pierrot’s heart will break; and he will grieve + That so much earth lies heavily on her + Who trod the earth so lightly!--and will weep + Big facile tears, and babble to the moon. + + Will you not go?--Then come. Give me your hand,-- + That firm small slender hand. Tread quietly, + For Mrs. Grundy nods now, who will wake + Full-cry when all our fellow-patients chatter + And drone and bustle like fat surfeited flies + Round our dead reputations. + + Let us go. + + + + + 15 + + STORY OF THE FLOWERY KINGDOM + + “_La belle Sou-Chong-Thé, au clair de pleine lune_” + + --PAUL VERVILLE. + + + Fair Sou-Chong-Tee, by a shimmering brook + Where ghost-like lilies loomed tall and straight, + Met young Too-Hi, in a moonlit nook, + Where they cooed and kissed till the hour was late: + Then, with lanterns, a mandarin passed in state, + Named Hoo-Hung-Hoo of the Golden Band, + Who had wooed the maiden to be _his_ mate,-- + For these things occur in the Flowery Land. + + Now, Hoo-Hung-Hoo had written a book, + In seven volumes, to celebrate + The death of the Emperor’s thirteenth cook: + So, being a person whose power was great, + He ordered a herald to indicate + He would blind Too-Hi with a red-hot brand + And marry Sou-Chong at a quarter-past-eight,-- + For these things occur in the Flowery Land. + + Whilst the brand was heating, the lovers shook + In their several shoes,--when by lucky fate + A Dragon came, with his tail in a crook,-- + A Dragon out of a Nankeen Plate,-- + And gobbled the hard-hearted potentate + And all of his servants, and snorted, _and_ + Passed on at a super-cyclonic rate,-- + For these things occur in the Flowery Land. + + The lovers were wed at an early date, + And lived for the future, I understand, + In one continuous tête-à-tête,-- + For these things occur ... in the Flowery Land. + + + + + 16 + + THE HOIDENS + + “_Au point du premier jour, dans l’enfance du tout_” + + --ANTOINE RICZI. + + + When the Morning broke before us + Came the wayward Three astraying, + Chattering in babbling chorus, + (Obloquies of Æther saying),-- + Hoidens that, at pegtop playing, + Flung their Top where yet it whirls + Through the coil of clouds unstaying; + For the Fates are captious girls. + + + CLOTHO + + + _Why, upon that Toy before us + Insects cluster! Hear them saying, + In the quaintest shrillest chorus_:-- + ‘Life affords no time for playing! + And for each that goes astraying, + Featly as a planet whirls + Drops the stroke of doom unstaying, + For the Fates are captious girls.’ + + + LACHESIS + + + _La, I thought it reeled before us + Tumbling, lurching, stumbling, straying, + In some sort of mumbling chorus! + Now I see them at their playing-- + I too see,--and hear them saying_:-- + ‘Note with what fixed aim life whirls + Onward to set goals unstaying, + For the Fates are captious girls.’ + + + ATROPOS + + + _Sisters, I am tired of straying. + Catch the Toy while yet it whirls! + Cleanse the Toy, and end our playing!_ + + + --For the Fates are captious girls. + + + + + III + + LIBITINA + + “_Mort, j’appelle de ta rigueur_” + + + + + 17 + + ACCORDING TO THEIR FOLLY + + “_Ce que vous faites-là n’importe pas_” + + --CHARLES GARNIER. + + + Ye that made merry through mirthless ages, + And jeered in the thick of the knights’ mêlée, + And derided all wrangles of sophists and sages, + And toasted your toes round an auto-da-fé,-- + Do ye grieve, in your coffins, now worms assay + That motley logic of quip and pun + And elvish laughter?--or still do ye say, + _Whatever ye do there matters to none_? + + Chuckling and shrugging, ye clutched such wages + As life allotted; then went your way + Into the dark, where no conflict rages, + No wrangles follow, no cruelties stray. + --LE GLORIEUX, ARMSTRONG, PATCH, BRUSQUET, + And SOMMERS! rest ye, for jesting is done, + And ye need not joke now as yesterday, + For whatever ye do there matters to none. + + And a dream that he found in his tomb assuages + The brutish sorrows of TRIBOULET; + And DAGONET sleeps, and no more engages + To follow his master in any fray; + And CHICOT, too, makes his bed of clay-- + Whither wins never the Gascon sun,-- + Where baubles and sceptres alike decay, + And whatever ye do there matters to none. + + My prince! it is better to quote than obey + The precepts of Solon and Solomon; + Yet the world they admonished is larger than they, + And whatever ye do there matters to none. + + + + + 18 + + FOOT-NOTES FOR IDYLS + + “_Le Sicilien chantait--mais c’est, ma foy, bien drôle_” + + --THÉODORE PASSERAT. + + + _’Mongst all immortals tardiest is their tread! + Dear and desired, they tread with dainty feet, + By whose dear advent all are comforted + ’Mongst mortal men!_ Thus, thus, thy verses greet + The Coming Hours--those Hours that from the heat + And mirth and friendly girls of Sicily, + Unheeding, haled thee to hell’s minstrels’-seat, + To edify austere Persephonê. + + _The living may forget; only the dead + Are hopeless!_ sang blithe Corydon, where beat + Bright waves upon bright sands, and overhead + Pines murmured benisons. Now is it sweet + To rhyme of this in thy less glad retreat, + THEOCRITUS, who badest that song be + Immortal? and dost thou find that song meet + To edify austere Persephonê? + + Now all old hours and all old years are sped + What profits it with thee if men repeat + Or all or anything thy live lips said? + Thou hast forgot Bombyca’s _ivory feet_, + The shrill cicalæ’s chirp, the lambkins’ bleat, + And Lacon’s _honied song on Helykê_. + What profits thee the honied sound of it + To edify austere Persephonê? + + Lord of glad songs, for us the winding-sheet. + For thee the funeral pyre--_built near the sea_,-- + Bids singing cease, and songless lips compete + To edify austere Persephonê. + + + + + 19 + + THE GOD-FATHER + + “_Primus in orbe deos fecit timor; ardua cœlo_” + + --PETRONIUS ARBITER. + + + Always was fear the god’s ambassador, + Since first in traverse of high-tumbling seas + Man quailed and out of thunderings made Thor; + Or mid the desert’s dumb infinities + He shuddered, dreaming of Tanit and the Sphinx; + Or noting life’s large cruelty, surmised + Plethoric Zeus, with twinkling eyes that roam + Alcmena-ward.--Still as man fears, man thinks; + And presently each dread is canonized, + And duly terror is wheedled and exorcised, + And given his priest, and shrine, and hecatomb. + + Fearing, we loathe, and to the thing abhorred + Bow down; and terror and fancy beget a god + A while evaded, and a while adored, + And afterward bemocked. As with a rod + Time smote the lords of Nineveh and Khem, + And raised the dreams which Hellas deemed divine; + As presently the grosser gods of Rome + Turned ghost, and Saturn’s pilfered diadem + Rolled at Christ’s bleeding feet.--What praise was thine + That art most feared of all? what gilded shrine, + Cajoling priest, and steaming hecatomb? + + Scant need to wheedle Death! men said. Our life, + With all the pain and passion of the whole, + With all the toil, the sorrow and the strife, + Is but a passing onward to the goal + Where Death awaits us. Mid his votaries + Our birth-cry ranked us; nor may any art + Avail to save us, while the years consume + As ashes smoulder when their fervor dies + Insensibly; and he that lies apart + In darkness hears the pulsing of Death’s heart, + And knows that Death waits near him in the gloom. + + _Yea, of all gods thou only lovest not gifts!_ + Others we placate; or in smiting we + Evade them. When thou smitest with what shifts + May we evade thee? or how placate thee? + Thou wilt not hearken to any prayer of ours; + Thou biddest emperors and popes as well + As witless clowns, _Be still and bide thy fate!_-- + Whose altar we have wreathed with fitting flowers-- + With purple lupine, crumpled poppy-bell, + Ambiguous mandrake, and pale asphodel,-- + Since praise thee or blame thee, thou art obdurate. + + And nor to wheedle thee, nor to demand + Favor of thee or any pity of thee, + We come. Beneath a lifted sword we stand + And praise thee, knowing, whatever gods may be, + Thy altar is not shaken: though the creeds + And outworn faiths of dreaming seer and priest + Endure as sinister shadows, or endure + As marsh-fires glittering round a path that leads + Nowhither; and the night be, and the east + Sleep, and the sun not waken;--yet at least, + Though all things else be doubtful, death is sure. + + We praise thee, knowing how vainly fancy spans + With timorous dreams the grave’s unplumbed abyss. + Vainly we famed the calm Olympians, + And vainly Ammon-Ra, and Artemis, + And Neith, and Krishna. Comfort we have had + Of kindlier lords whose fabled potency + With shadows decked the darkness lest the dread + Of darkness absolute should drive us mad,-- + But Time discrowns them. Time endures. But he + Discrowns thee never, and endures by thee + Endured, against that time when Time be dead. + + + + + 20 + + BALLAD OF THE DESTROYER + + “_Ainsi nous applaudons la mort, la mort qui vient_” + + --NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + We laud him thus, that comes unto the king, + And lightly plucks him from the cushioned throne; + And drowns his glory and his warfaring + In unrecorded dim oblivion; + And girds another with the sword thereof; + And sets another in his stead to reign; + And ousts the remnant, nakedly to gain + Styx’ formless shore and nakedly complain + Midst twittering ghosts lamenting life and love. + + For Death is merciless: a crack-brained king + He raises in the place of Prester John, + Smites Priam, and mid-course in conquering + Bids Cæsar pause; the wit of Solomon, + The wealth of Nero and the pride thereof, + And battle-prowess--or of Tamburlaine, + Darius, Jeshua, or Charlemaigne,-- + Wheedle and bribe and surfeit Death in vain, + And get no grace of him nor any love. + + Incuriously he smites the armored king + And tricks his counsellors;--as, later on, + Death will, half-idly, still our pleasuring, + And change for fevered laughter in the sun + Sleep such as Merlin’s,--and excess thereof,-- + Whence we, divorceless Death our Viviaine + Implacable, may never more regain + The unforgotten rapture, and the pain + And grief and ecstasy of life and love. + + For, presently, as quiet as the king + Sleeps now that planned the keeps of Ilion, + We, too, will sleep, whilst overhead the spring + Rules, and young lovers laugh--as we have done,-- + And kiss--as we, that take no heed thereof, + But slumber very soundly, and disdain + The world-wide heralding of winter’s wane + And swift sweet ripple of the April rain + Running about the world to waken love. + + We shall have done with love, and Death be king + And turn our nimble bodies carrion, + Our red lips dusty;--yet our live lips cling + Despite that age-long severance, and are one + Despite the grave and the vain grief thereof,-- + Which we will baffle, if in Death’s domain + Fond memories may enter, and we twain + May dream a little, and rehearse again + In that unending sleep our present love. + + Speed forth to her in halting unison, + My rhymes; and say no hindrance may restrain + Love from his aim when Love is bent thereon; + And that were love at my disposal lain-- + All mine to take!--and Death had said, _Refrain, + Lest I, even I, exact the cost thereof_, + I know that even as the weather-vane + Follows the wind so would I follow Love. + + + + + 21 + + EXHORTATION TOWARD ALMSGIVING + + “_Faulse beaulté, qui tant me couste cher_” + + --FRANÇOIS VILLON. + + + O Beauty of her, whereby I am undone! + O Grace of her, that hath no grace for me! + O Love of her, the bit that guides me on + To sorrow and to grievous misery! + O felon Charms, my poor heart’s enemy! + O furtive murderous Pride! O pitiless, great, + Cold Eyes of her! have done with cruelty! + Have pity upon me ere it be too late! + + Happier for me if elsewhere I had gone + For pity,--ah, far happier for me, + Since never of her may any grace be won, + And lest dishonor slay me, I must flee. + _Haro!_ I cry, (and cry how uselessly!) + _Haro!_ I cry to folk of all estate, + For I must die unless it chance that she + Have pity upon me ere it be too late. + + M’amye, that day in whose disastrous sun + Your beauty’s flower must fade and wane and be + No longer beautiful, draws near,--whereon + I will nor plead nor mock;--not I, for we + Shall both be old and vigorless! M’amye, + Drink deep of love, drink deep, nor hesitate + Until the spring run dry, but speedily + Have pity upon me--ere it be too late! + + Lord Love, that all love’s lordship hast in fee, + Lighten, ah, lighten thy displeasure’s weight. + For all true hearts should, of Christ’s charity, + Have pity upon me ere it be too late. + + + + + 22 + + COMFORT FOR CENTENARIANS + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + Marvel not if my words are bold; + Though the sound be rude, yet the sense is true: + Too long you have flouted a tale oft-told + By the stammering tongues of men that woo, + And woo you vainly. Your brain is askew + For pride in your body’s magnificence, + And its color and curving so fair to view;-- + And what will it matter a hundred years hence? + + My burden, I grant you, is blunt and old: + Yet time will sharpen its sting when you-- + Even you yourself!--and the things you hold + At so dear a price are a bone or two; + And those wonderful eyes, whose heaven-like blue + Is the crown of your beauty’s excellence, + Are unsavory holes that a worm crawls through;-- + And what will it matter a hundred years hence? + + Encrusted and tainted with churchyard mould, + Your dear perfections must lie perdue; + Take on such favor as few behold + With liking, and certainly none pursue; + And your beauty be reft of all revenue, + And suffer the blind worm’s insolence, + Who recks not at all of height, hair and hue,-- + And what will it matter a hundred years hence? + + ETTARRE, I proffer my love anew, + And life with a jest at the world’s expense; + And if for your favor I vainly sue-- + Why, what will it matter a hundred years hence? + + + + + 23 + + THE CONQUEROR PASSES + + “_Non dormatz plus! les messatges de douz pascor_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + Awaken! for the servitors of Spring + Proclaim his triumph! ah, make haste to see + With what tempestuous pageantry they bring + The victor homeward! haste, for this is he + That cast out Winter, and all woes that cling + To Winter’s garments, and bade April be! + + And now that Spring is master, let us be + Content, and laugh as anciently in spring + The battle-wearied Tristran laughed, when he + Was come again Tintagel-ward, to bring + Glad news of Arthur’s victory--and see + Ysoude, with parted lips, that waver and cling. + + Not yet in Brittany must Tristran cling + To this or that sad memory, and be + Alone, as she in Cornwall; for in spring + Love sows against far harvestings,--and he + Is blind, and scatters baleful seed that bring + Such fruitage as blind Love lacks eyes to see. + + Love sows, but lovers reap: and ye will see + The loved eyes lighten, feel the loved lips cling, + Never again when in the grave ye be + Incurious of your happiness in spring, + And get no grace of Love there, whither he + That bartered life for love no love may bring. + + No braggart Heracles avails to bring + Alcestis hence; nor here may Roland see + The eyes of Aude; nor here the wakening spring + Vex any man with memories: for there be + No memories that cling as cerements cling, + No force that baffles Death, more strong than he. + + Us hath he noted, and for us hath he + An hour appointed; and that hour will bring + Oblivion.--Then laugh! Laugh, dear, and see + The tyrant mocked, while yet our bosoms cling, + While yet our lips obey us, and we be + Untrammeled in our little hour of spring! + + Thus in the spring we jeer at Death, though he + Will see our children perish, and will bring + Asunder all that cling while love may be. + + + + + 24 + + THE MENDICANTS + + “_Domna, de totz bos aips complida_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + O Madam Destiny, omnipotent, + Be not too obdurate to us who pray + That this our transient grant of youth be spent + In laughter as befits a holiday,-- + From which the evening summons us away, + From which to-morrow wakens us to strife + And toil and grief and wisdom,--and to-day + Grudge us not life! + + O Madam Destiny, omnipotent, + Why need our elders trouble us at play? + We know that very soon we shall repent + The idle follies of our holiday. + And being old, shall be as wise as they: + But now we are not wise, and lute and fife + Plead sweetlier than axioms,--so to-day + Grudge us not life! + + O Madam Destiny, omnipotent, + You have given us youth--and must we cast away + The cup undrained and our one coin unspent + Because our elders’ beards and hearts are gray? + They have forgotten that if we delay + Death claps us on the shoulder, and with knife + Or cord or fever, flouts the prayer we pray-- + _Grudge us not life_! + + Madam, recall that in the sun we play + But for an hour, then have the worm for wife, + The tomb for habitation,--and to-day + Grudge us not life! + + + + + IV + + HORTENSIS + + “_Dedans le boys je m’en allay_” + + + + + 25 + + ALONE IN APRIL + + “_In un boschetto trovai pastorella_” + + --? GUERZO DI MONTECANTI. + + + Rustling leaves of the willow-tree + Peering downward at you and me, + And no man else in the world to see. + + Only the birds, whose dusty coats + Show dark in the green--whose throbbing throats + Turn joy to music and love to notes. + + Lean your body against the tree, + Lifting your red lips up to me, + Ettarre, and kiss, with no man to see! + + And let us laugh for a little.--Yea, + Let love and laughter herald the day + When laughter and love will be put away. + + Then you will remember the willow-tree + And this very hour, and remember me, + Ettarre,--whose face you will no more see! + + So swift, so swift the glad time goes, + And Eld and Death with their countless woes + Draw near, and the end thereof no man knows. + + Lean your body against the tree, + Lifting your red lips up to me, + Ettarre, and kiss, with no man to see! + + + + + 26 + + “--BUT WISDOM IS JUSTIFIED OF HER CHILDREN” + + “_Oramai quando flore_” + + --ALESSANDRO DE MEDICI. + + + Phyllida, spring wakes about us-- + Wakes to mock at us and flout us + That so coldly do delay: + When the very birds are mating, + Pray you, why should we be waiting-- + We that might be wed to-day? + + _Life is brief_, the wise men tell us;-- + Even those dusty, musty fellows + That have done with life,--and pass + Where the wraith of Aristotle + Hankers, vainly, for a bottle, + Youth and some frank Grecian lass. + + Ah, I warrant you;--and Zeno + Would not reason, now, could he know + One more chance to live and love: + For, at best, the merry May-time + Is a very fleeting playtime;-- + Why, then, waste an hour thereof? + + Plato, Solon, Periander, + Seneca, Anaximander, + Pyrrho, and Parmenides! + Were one hour alone remaining + Would ye spend it in attaining + Learning, or to lips like these? + + Thus, I demonstrate by reason + Now is our predestined season + For the garnering of all bliss; + Prudence is but long-faced folly; + Cry a fig for melancholy! + Seal the bargain with a kiss. + + + + + 27 + + THE LOVERS’ DOXOLOGY + + “_O voi che per la via d’amor passate_” + + --ALESSANDRO DE MEDICI. + + + Listen, all lovers! the spring is here, + And the world is not amiss; + As long as laughter is good to hear, + And lips are good to kiss,-- + As long as Youth and Spring endure,-- + There is never an evil past a cure, + And the world is never amiss. + + O lovers all, I bid ye declare + The world is a pleasant place;-- + Give thanks to God for the gift so fair, + Give thanks for His singular grace! + Give thanks for Youth and Love and Spring! + Give thanks, as gentlefolk should, and sing, + _The world is a pleasant place_! + + + + + 28 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY + + “_Be m play lo dous temp de pascor_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + Now I loiter, and dream to the branches’ swaying + In furtive conference,--high overhead,-- + A-tingle with rumors that Winter is sped + And over his ruins a world goes maying. + + Somewhere--impressively,--people are saying + Intelligent things (which their grandmothers said), + While I loiter, and dream to the branches’ swaying + In furtive conference, high overhead. + + Here the hand of April, unwashed from slaying + Earth’s fallen tyrant--for Winter is dead,-- + Uncloses anemones, staining them red; + And her daffodils guard me, in squads,--displaying + Intrepid lances lest wisdom tread + Where I loiter and dream to the branches’ swaying. + + + + + 29 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY-FIVE + + “_Quant erba vertz e fuelha par_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + April wakes, and the gifts are good + Which April grants in this lonely wood, + Mid the wistful sounds of a solitude + Whose immemorial murmuring + Is the voice of Spring + And murmurs the burden of burgeoning. + + April wakes, and her heart is high, + For the Bassarids and the Fauns are nigh, + And prosperous leaves lisp busily + Over fluttered brakes, whence the breezes bring + Vext twittering + To swell the burden of burgeoning. + + April wakes, and afield, astray, + She calls to whom at the end I say, + _Heart o’ My Heart, I am thine alway_,-- + And I follow, follow her carolling, + For I hear her sing + Above the burden of burgeoning. + + April wakes;--it were good to live + (_Yet April passes_), though April give + No other gift for our pleasuring + Than the old, old burden of burgeoning. + + + + + 30 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY-EIGHT + + “_Era m requier sa custum’e son us pascor_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + May shows with godlike showing + To-day for each that sees + May’s magic overthrowing + All musty memories + In him whom May decrees + To be love’s own. He saith, + _I wear love’s liveries + Until released by death_. + + Thus all we laud May’s sowing, + Nor heed how harvests please + When nowhere grain worth growing + Greets autumn’s questing breeze, + And garnerers garner these-- + Vain words and wasted breath + And spilth and tasteless lees,-- + Until released by death. + + Unwillingly foreknowing + That love with May-time flees, + We take this day’s bestowing, + And feed on fantasies + Such as love lends for ease + Where none but travaileth, + With lean infrequent fees, + Until released by death. + + + + + 31 + + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT THIRTY + + “_Ai! chant d’ouzel comensa sa sazos_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + Now May awakes, and spring comes back; + Now green fire creeps from tree to tree, + And he that travels need not lack + The sight of an anemone + ’Twixt one sea and another sea; + Now blithe birds build, and wan hearts quicken, + Oblivious of dreams that sicken + Drear ice-engirdled reverie. + + Now I in part forget ... recall + In part ... how yonder throstle’s call + Inveigles whither mirth is,-- + Because so many lips have told + The tale I told, once, who am old, + However young the earth is. + + + + + 32 + + THE DOTARD CONJURER + + “_Le Printemps est devenu comme un sorcier faible_” + + --PAUL VERVILLE. + + + Spring is become a dotard conjurer, + And his old magic works not any more! + No more avails the whisper of friendly leaves; + And now the forest is undenizened + Of daydreams, which, like elfin outlaws, once + Lay hid in wait for every passer-by + And pilfered all his sorrows; dawn abates + In wonder and tells flatly, _It is day_, + And tells no more than that now; and the night + Brews no more philtres; and the moon forgets + That ancient wizardry which once was hers. + + Ah, the old magic works not any more, + Though I have known its potency. Perchance, + Somewhere a great way off, in Avalon, + Atlantis, or the hushed Hesperides, + Hearts lighten with the coming in of spring, + Even as once. Yes, for this thing has been, + And may be yet in far-off Avalon. + + For it may be in far-off Avalon, + Even as once--was it not yesterday?-- + All forests are akin to Brocelaunde, + And fear and beauty keep their heritage + And breathe of something hidden in the woods + Save birds, and trees, and flowers, and ravenous gnats,-- + For they are haunted by those messengers + That April sends about our woods no more + On primal errands. But in Avalon, + Fern-carpeted untroubled Avalon, + When April wakes and rises, with wind-blown hair + And steadfast eyes--when at the tip of the world + The sun takes heart a little,--then sturdy April + Exults, and summons tricksy ministers + To color and flaunt in low, yet-dreaming fields + The first flush of the apple-blossoms; and marshal + The stout spears of the daffodils; and guide + Frail baby clouds about the lonely heavens; + And polish frost-nipped stars; and re-awaken + Warm gracious land-winds where the restive waters + Shout to the glistening sands and hunger all night + With impotent desire of the naked moon. + + Yes; this may be, in far-off Avalon. + + Here the old magic works not any more: + And Spring, a dotard conjurer, forgets + The runes and sorceries of yesterday, + And may at best evoke but tenuous visions,-- + Faint-hearted dreams that people the turbid past + With half-seen faces and derisive laughter;-- + And there is nothing hidden in the woods + Save birds, and trees, and flowers, and ravenous gnats, + And, under all, dead and decaying leaves. + + _Nay, under all, dead and decaying leaves + Enrich that mould which bred them, and whereby + The tree is nourished and new leaves put forth._ + + + + + V + + MELÆNIS + + “_De moy, pauvre, je veuil parler_” + + + + + 33 + + UNCHARTED + + “_Un beau royaume nous cherchons_” + + --ANTOINE RICZI. + + + There is a land those hereabout + Ignore.... Its gates are barred + By Titan twins, named Fear and Doubt. + These mercifully guard + That land we seek--the land so fair!-- + And all the fields thereof, + Where daffodils flaunt everywhere + And ouzels chant of love,-- + Lest we attain the Middle-Land, + Whence clouded well-springs rise, + And vipers from a slimy strand + Lift glittering cold eyes. + + NOW, THE PARABLE ALL MAY UNDERSTAND, + AND SURELY YOU KNOW THE NAME OF THE LAND! + AH, NEVER A GUIDE OR EVER A CHART + MAY SAFELY LEAD YOU ABOUT THIS LAND,-- + THE LAND OF THE HUMAN HEART! + + + + + 34 + + SCHOOL-SONG + + “_Je fais attention aux maîtres_” + + --ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + _I have to heed my teachers, + And try to trust my school, + And yet no less, through awkwardness, + Infringe on every rule._ + + Dim laws I may not understand + I strive to keep--and break, + Somehow. I see forbidden me + Much that I want--and take + Sometimes,--not meaning to do wrong, + Nor meaning to deny + Due weight to rules one ridicules + Somewhat, yet lives thereby. + + If teachers could but recollect + The lads they used to be, + I think that all could half-recall, + Somewhere, someone like me. + (_The lads they were!_ What looking-glass + Shows me a lad to-day? + With little learned, much half-discerned, + I toil already gray). + + Yet honor, ruefully, the rule-- + All teachers must be sure + That each mistake their pupils make + Was never made before: + And honor, tacitly, the rule-- + No pupil ever thrives + Who questions _Why?_ of laws whereby + We lead our ordered lives. + + _For we must heed our teachers, + And try to trust our school, + Until they teach the reason each + Infringes every rule._ + + + + + 35 + + “AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING--” + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + Man’s love hath many prompters, + But a woman’s love hath none; + And he may woo a nimble wit + Or hair that shames the sun, + Whilst she must pick of all one man + And ever brood thereon,-- + And for no reason, + And not rightly,-- + + Save that the plan was foreordained + (More old than Chalcedon, + Or any tower of Tarshish + Or of gleaming Babylon), + That she must love unwillingly + And love till life be done,-- + He for a season, + And more lightly. + + + + + 36 + + BALLAD OF THE DOUBLE-SOUL + + “_Les Dieux, qui trop aiment ses facéties cruelles_” + + --PAUL VERVILLE. + + + In the beginning the Gods made man, and fashioned the sky and the sea, + And the earth’s fair face for man’s dwelling-place; and this was the + Gods’ decree:-- + + _Lo, We have given to man five wits: he discerneth folly and sin; + He is swift to deride all the world outside, and blind to the world + within: + So that man may make sport and amuse Us, in battling for phrases or + pelf, + Now that each may know what forebodeth woe to his neighbor, and not to + himself._ + + Yet some have the Gods forgotten,--or is it that subtler mirth + The Gods extort of a certain sort of folk that cumber the earth? + + FOR THIS IS THE SONG OF THE DOUBLE-SOUL, DISTORTEDLY TWO IN ONE,---- + OF THE WEARIED EYES THAT STILL BEHOLD THE FRUIT ERE THE SEED BE SOWN, + AND DERIVE AFFRIGHT FOR THE NEARING NIGHT FROM THE LIGHT OF THE + NOONTIDE SUN. + + For, one that with hope in the morning set forth, and knew never a + fear, + They have linked with another whom omens bother; and he whispers in + one’s ear. + + And one is fain to be climbing where only angels have trod, + But is fettered and tied to another’s side who fears that it might + look odd. + And one would worship a woman whom all perfections dower, + But the other smiles at transparent wiles; and he quotes from + Schopenhauer. + Thus two by two we wrangle and blunder about the earth, + And that body we share we may not spare; but the Gods have need of + mirth. + + SO THIS IS THE SONG OF THE DOUBLE-SOUL, DISTORTEDLY TWO IN ONE,-- + OF THE WEARIED EYES THAT STILL BEHOLD THE FRUIT ERE THE SEED BE SOWN, + AND DERIVE AFFRIGHT FOR THE NEARING NIGHT FROM THE LIGHT OF THE + NOONTIDE SUN. + + + + + 37 + + WHEN TRAVELLERS RETURN + + --A fancy from ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + There is more in this room than is corporal,-- + Grieved, silent, and striving in nameless ways, + While I read, with my back against the wall, + And nothing happens, and naught betrays + Unseen sad eyes that are weighing me + Somehow. + + They trouble me, too, although + By rule and reason this should not be.... + + But a woman died here, years ago, + Who loved me much:--and what if the dead + Were doomed to this as their punishment-- + That with those whom, living, they loved they tread + Forever, and are omniscient? + + + + + 38 + + ANNALS + + + I--“QUIS DESIDERIO?” + + (May 15th, 1913) + + There is no room for grief when harvest nears + And, labor done, fit wages are received,-- + No room for grief now that she wins full-sheaved + Her harvest, and no need of any tears. + She goes to garner honorable years; + She was a little wearied by long strife, + And still alert, and still in love with life-- + As ever--would ascend to her compeers. + + There is no room for grief; as to its nest + A seabird moves on pinions sure and strong, + Her sturdy spirit mounts when sturdiest, + And life ends nobly like a rounded song. + There is no room for grief; she is at rest + To whom rest was a stranger overlong. + + + II--“SED RISIT MIDAS” + + (1915: Somewhere in the United States) + + _Let all I touch be gold!_ King Midas cried + Of old in Phrygia. Jove heard the prayer, + And Midas laughed; for gold gleamed everywhere + His fingers reached; and iron gleamed outside. + + Within, no friendly handclasp might abide + That touch which turned all gold, and made his food + Chill metal on his lips; chill amplitude + Derided him. So Midas laughed, and died. + + To-day who follows Midas?--_Nay, let be + To whisper of lost friends I knew of old + When England gave me life which France made free! + I trade unbiased; and my guns are sold-- + Whoever buys--now all need buy of me, + And all I touch or handle turns to gold!_ + + + III--“APRILIS GESTA” + + (Easter, 1865--Easter, 1915: Richmond, Virginia) + + _A long half-century since when April reigned, + As now, our cause was lost because unjust-- + Else wherefore lost?--when level with the dust + Fell citadels our fathers’ faith maintained + Till that old April_,--hath the fool ordained. + Imprisoned by his bookshelves; and forgets + Truth is not lightly slain with bayonets, + Or warfare lost whence honor comes unstained. + + And April craved her jest ere time began,-- + So time anew brings April, to deride + More changeful, strife-drowned Earth, wherein to span + The surge of war’s inexorable tide + Attends the wit of a Virginian, + And men acclaim the Christ men crucified. + + + IV--“LEX SCRIPTA EST” + + (February 14th, 1916) + + Time rounds a twelvemonth since you died,--most dear + And brave of women!--and he thrives as yet + Whose craven heart found courage to beget + The lie that slew you;--who, with fame made clear + And past his poison, rest till High God hear + Our prayer, and smite with godlike plenitude + This lean gray snake, and spill the venom spewed + In vain to guard his lewd blood-brother’s bier. + + Not yet--most dear and brave!--may faith foretell + Fate’s fixed inevitable hour, nor be + Rewarded by its advent, to compel + This liar’s exile from all less vile than he, + And startle in the loneliest nook of hell + Iscariot and Cain with company. + + + + + 39 + + “--AND EVER SHALL BE” + + --After ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + Sad hours and glad hours, and all hours, pass over; + One thing unshaken stays: + Life, that hath Death for spouse, hath Chance for lover; + Whereby decays + + Each thing save one thing:--mid this strife diurnal + Of hourly change begot, + Love, that is God-born, bides as God eternal, + And changes not;-- + + Nor means a tinseled dream pursuing lovers + Find altered by and by, + When, with possession, time anon discovers + Trapped dreams must die,-- + + For he that visions God, of mankind gathers + One manlike trait alone, + And reverently imputes to Him a father’s + Love for his son. + + + + + 40 + + THE PERFECT REASON + + “_Le Roy Jésus crucifié_” + + --ANTOINE RICZI. + + + King Jesus hung upon the Cross, + _And have ye sinned?_--quo’ He,-- + _Nay, Dysmas, ’tis no honest loss + When Satan cogs the dice ye toss, + And thou shalt sup with Me,-- + Sedebis apud angelos, + Quia amavisti!_ + + At Heaven’s Gate was Heaven’s Queen, + _And have ye sinned?_--quo’ She,-- + _And would I hold him worth a bean + That durst not seek, because unclean, + My cleansing charity?-- + Speak thou, that wast the Magdalene, + Quia amavisti!_ + + + + + VI + + SCOTEIA + + “_Or il est mort, passé trente ans_” + + + + + 41 + + TWO IN TWILIGHT + + “_Ave, Maria, que l’amour Divine inspire_” + + --ANTOINE RICZI. + + + I--ALBA + + _Ave, Maria! whom Love did move + To triumph over earthly love._ + + Mother and Maid, now that wan stars take flight, + And larks with song assail high heaven’s height, + Unwillingly we lose the kindly night + That sheltered us when we were fain thereof. + + For we are frail, and know not of His aim, + Yet Whosoever made us--were His name + Jove or Jehovah,--should we dare to blame + Our Maker that He made us fit for love?-- + + Were we not modeled by an Artizan + That to His liking shaped the soul of man, + And fashioned all things after His own plan. + Divulging nothing of the aims thereof?-- + + Is it by His grace we grow adventurous, + And, laughing, say:--_Love proves victorious,-- + Who made love potent? if love hoodwink us + How may we dare reprove Him That made love_? + + MATER, ORA FILIUM, + UT POST HOC EXILIUM + NOBIS DONET GAUDIUM + BEATORUM OMNIUM! + + + II--SERENA + + _Ave, Maria! now cry we so + That see night wake and daylight go._ + + Mother and Maid, in nothing incomplete, + This night that gathers is more light and fleet + Than twilight trod alway with stumbling feet, + _Agentes semper uno animo_. + + Ever we touch the prize we dare not take! + Ever we know that thirst we dare not slake! + Yet ever to a dreamed-of goal we make-- + _Est tui cœli in palatio!_ + + Long, long the road, and set with many a snare; + And to how small sure knowledge are we heir + That blindly tread, with twilight everywhere! + _Volo in toto; sed non valeo!_ + + Long, long the road, and very frail are we, + That may not lightly curb mortality, + Nor lightly tread together steadfastly, + _Et parvum carmen unum facio_:-- + + MATER, ORA FILIUM, + UT POST HOC EXILIUM + NOBIS DONET GAUDIUM + BEATORUM OMNIUM! + + + + + 42 + + “IN FINE,--” + + _Good and evil, blending_,-- + Everywhere men say,-- + _Obscurely work at sending + Rewards on Judgment Day_. + + _Good and evil, blending_,-- + Elsewhere others bray,-- + _Take no thought of ending, + Keep no ordered way,-- + Eternally at play, + Aim but at inter playing_.... + + Thirdly, some offend + Ineffably by saying, + Not without shrugs, _My friend, + Good and evil blend_. + + + + + 43 + + STY-SONG + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + As with her dupes dealt Circê, + Life deals with hers, for she + Reshapes them without mercy, + And shapes them swinishly, + To wallow swinishly, + And for eternity;-- + + Though, harder than the witch was, + Life, changing not the whole, + Transmutes the body, which was + Proud garment of the soul, + And briefly drugs the soul, + Whose ruin is her goal;-- + + And means by this thereafter + A subtler mirth to get, + And mock with bitterer laughter + Her helpless dupes’ regret, + Their swinish dull regret + For what they half forget. + + + + + 44 + + THE TOY-MAKER + + + From the dawn of the day to the dusk he toiled, + Shaping fanciful playthings with tireless hands,-- + Useless trumpery toys; and, with vaulting heart, + Gave them unto all peoples--who mocked at him, + Trampled on them, and soiled them, and went their way. + + Then he toiled from the morn to the dusk again, + Gave his gimcracks to people who mocked at him, + Trampled on them, deriding, and went their way. + + Thus he labors, and loudly they jeer at him;-- + That is, when they remember he still exists. + + _Who_, you ask, _is this fellow?_--What matter names? + He is only a scribbler who is content. + + + + + 45 + + THE CASTLE OF CONTENT + + --PROVENÇAL BURDEN. + + + Through the mist of years does it gleam as yet-- + That fair and free extent + Of moonlit turret and parapet, + Which castled, once, Content? + + _Ei ho! Ei ho! the Castle of Content, + With drowsy music drowning merriment + Where Dreams and Visions held high carnival, + And frolicking frail Loves made light of all,-- + Ei ho! the vanished Castle of Content!_ + + Such toll we took of his niggling Hours + That the troops of Time were sent + To seize the treasures and fell the towers + Of the Castle of Content. + + _Ei ho! Ei ho! the Castle of Content, + With flaming roof and tumbling battlement + Where Time hath conquered, and the firelight streams + Above sore-wounded Loves and dying Dreams,-- + Ei ho! the vanished Castle of Content!_ + + The towers are fallen; no laughter rings + Through the rafters, charred and rent; + The ruin is wrought of all goodly things + In the Castle of Content. + + _Ei ho! Ei ho! the Castle of Content, + Razed in the Land of Youth, where mirth was meant! + Nay, all is ashes there; and all in vain + Hand-shadowed eyes turn backward, to regain + Disastrous memories of that dear domain,-- + Ei ho! the vanished Castle of Content!_ + + + + + 46 + + THE PARODIST + + --After PAUL VERVILLE. + + + I hear proud singing at times; + And when that singing is ended + I mimic, with arduous rhymes, + A song which I knew to be splendid, + And make of what I comprehended-- + I singly,--a thing so absurd + That rightly is reason offended. + + What matter?--My rhymes are blurred + Because I wept when I heard + Proud singing whereof these rhymes + Iterate never a word; + And safely I treasure the times + Wherein is a song that climbs, + And my heart singly is stirred. + + + + + 47 + + THE DARK COMPANION + + “_Nous sommes unités à cette fin_” + + --CHARLES GARNIER. + + + I AND MY SHADOW ARE SO MADE ONE + THAT WERE WE PARTED EACH LIFE WERE DONE. + + Throughout the flight of the blithe bright day + Always he follows me, doggedly; + But I need not heed him,--because my way + Is flecked with sunlight,--and shrug to see + How fondly my Shadow follows me. + + When dying day grows chill and stark, + And vigilant stars troop each to his place, + He rises,--being free in the dark, + He rises and grins,--being freed for a space, + He rises to talk with me face to face. + + Then he tells me of much I am loth to hear, + For he whispers of all that we two have seen, + And loved, and squandered. _At forty year, + My master, how wide is the gulf between + That which we are and what might have been!_ + + And he whispers of dreams that the years degrade, + And of lust made lord over love’s demesne, + And of chances wasted, and faith betrayed. + _My master, how wide is the gulf between + That which we are and what might have been!_ + + Even thus he whispers; and he and I + Sit thus, alone, till the night’s defeat + Is signaled eastward, and chance thereby + Wins room for a morrow, fair and fleet, + That finds my Shadow beneath my feet. + + I AND MY SHADOW ARE SO MADE ONE + THAT WERE WE PARTED EACH LIFE WERE DONE. + + + + + 48 + + SEA-SCAPES + + + I lie and dream in the soft warm sand; and the thunder and surge and + the baffled roar + Of the sea’s relentless and vain endeavors are a pleasant lullaby, + here on shore. + + Since a little hillock screens yonder ageless tenacious battlings + (which shatter, and pass + In foam and spume), I appraise, half-nodding, much sand and sky and + gaunt nodding grass. + + And I am content to lie and dream; and I am too drowsy to rise, and + see + If it be worth breasting--that ocean yonder, which a little hillock + hides from me. + + + + + VII + + VERTICORDIA + + “_A vous parle, compaings de galles_” + + + + + 49 + + THE AGELESS MAID + + “_Amors, qu’a escien m’a donat tal voler_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + Man’s Love, that leads me day by day + Through many a screened and scented way, + Finds to assuage my thirst + No love that may the old love slay, + None sweeter than the first. + + Fond heart of mine, that beats so fast + As this or that fair maid trips past, + Once, and with lesser stir, + We viewed the grace of love, at last, + And turned idolater. + + Lad’s Love it was, that in the spring + When all things woke to blossoming, + Was as a child that came + Laughing, and filled with wondering, + Nor knowing his own name. + + And still--whatever years impend + To witness time a fickle friend + And youth a dwindling fire,-- + I must adore till all years end + My first love, Heart’s Desire. + + I may not hear men speak of her + Unmoved, and vagrant pulses stir + To greet her passing-by, + And I, in all her worshipper, + Must serve her till I die. + + For I remember: this is she + That reigns in one man’s memory + Immune to age and fret, + And stays the maid I may nor see + Nor win to, nor forget. + + + + + 50 + + FROM AFAR + + “_Domna, si no us vezon mei heulh_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + I + + Félise, whose will, yet undiscerned, commands + My willing heart, stayest thou unmoved to see + How Love, forlorn and reft of empery, + Strains toward thy free heart with bleeding hands? + Now the last hour of day runs leaden sands + Hast thou indeed, Félise, no thought of me, + As all my thoughts take wing and throng to thee + Athwart the long leagues of dividing lands? + + Félise, I am long sick with long delay, + Brain-wearied with long dreaming of thy grace, + Heart-hungered with long waiting in this place + Of days that are so long, whilst Love’s own day, + Longed-for so long, draws on with leisured pace + To make thee mine, dear love so far away. + + + II + + _Félise, have pity!_--cringing, at thy door + Entreats, with dolorous cry and clamoring, + That mendicant who quits thee nevermore: + Now winter chills the world, and no birds sing + In any woods, yet as in wanton spring + He follows thee; and never will have done, + Though nakedly he die, from following + Whither thou leadest. + + Canst thou look upon + His woes, and laugh to see a goddess’ son + Of wide dominion, and in strategy + More strong than Jove, more wise than Solomon, + Inept to combat thy severity? + Félise, have pity! and let Love be one + Among the folk that bear thee company. + + + + + 51 + + COMPETITORS + + --After ALESSANDRO DE MEDICI. + + + Heart o’ My Heart, dost thou not hear + Tired waves, perturbed by the mystery + Of the voiding east where vext winds veer, + Lamenting and lisping?--_I, the Sea, + Grapple and strain till I win to thee + I have loved so long, and may never depart + From that age-long siege till I win to thee, + Though I win as Enipëus, Heart o’ My Heart._ + --The Sea’s exordium + Pleads thus, _cor cordium_. + + Heart o’ My Heart, dost thou not hear + A sighing of dying Winds?--crying to thee:-- + _We that were friendly with Guinevere, + And wafted Queen Helen oversea,_ + _And served that lady of mystery + Balkis, a Sheban--caress and depart + Unwillingly, finding none fairer than thee + In those cold old venturings, Heart o’ My Heart._ + --The Winds’ exordium + Sighs thus, _cor cordium_. + + Heart o’ My Heart, dost thou not hear + Love that strives--as the yearning Sea, + As the truant Winds,--for the staid, and severe, + And sturdy and stainless heart of thee?-- + Nay, without warning Love wins to thee + Suddenly some day, swift to impart + The secret of tears and the mystery + Of sorrow and heartbreak, Heart o’ My Heart. + --Without exordium + Love takes, _cor cordium_. + + All sighs and tears are the Winds and the Sea, + And fit precursors--nay, portion and part-- + Of Love that is silent, and wins to thee + Silently some day, Heart o’ My Heart. + + + + + 52 + + THE STRIKING HOUR + + “_Comme un Croisé vaincu, qui longtemps languissait_” + + --NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + I + + As one imprisoned, that hath lain alone + And dreamed of sunlight where no vagrant gleam + Of sunlight pierces, being freed, must deem + This too but dreaming, and must dread the sun + Whose glory dazzles;--even as such-an-one + Am I, whose longing was but now supreme + For this high hour, and, now it strikes, esteem + I do but dream long dreamed-of goals are won. + + Take heed! be still! lest haply God reprove. + We have climbed too high! Those note us overhead + Who know I am unworthy of your love; + And when yet-parted lips, sigh-visited, + End speech and wait, mine when I will to move, + Such joy awakens that I grow afraid. + + + II + + Yet I have loved you in so many ways,-- + With reverence always, and such purity + As often curbs that which is base in me; + And, though some folly oftentimes betrays + My purpose into naught, through all these days + Till this day I had striven silently + To win at last to what, at least, would be + Earth-staggering homage reverberant in your praise. + + To-day in flight from world-wide dissonance, + I storm your heart,--and claim not any fee + For any service rendered anywhere, + But as one comes to his inheritance + Demand admittance, knowing my love to be + No whit unworthy even to enter there. + + + III + + Catullus might have made of words that seek + With rippling sound, in soft recurrent ways, + The perfect song, or in remoter days + Theocritus have hymned you in glad Greek; + But I am not as they,--and dare not speak + Of you unworthily, and dare not praise + Perfection with imperfect roundelays, + And desecrate the prize I dare to seek. + + I do not woo you, then, by fashioning + Vext analogues ’twixt you and Guinevere; + Nor do I come with agile lips that bring + The sugared periods of a sonneteer, + And bring no more,--but just with lips that cling + To yours, in murmuring, _I love you, dear_! + + + + + 53 + + LIGHTS OF THE WORLD + + --After CHARLES GARNIER. + + + Speed forth, my song, the sun’s ambassador, + Lest in the east night prove the conqueror, + And day be slain, and darkness triumph,--for + The sun is single, but her eyes are twain. + + And now the sunlight and the night contest + A doubtful battle, and day bides at best + Doubtful, till Phyllis wake. It is attest + The sun is single. + + But her eyes are twain,-- + And should the light of all the world delay, + And darkness prove victorious? Is it day + Now that the sun alone is risen? + + Nay, + The sun is single, but her eyes are twain,-- + Twain firmaments that mock with heavenlier hue + The heavens’ less lordly and less gracious blue, + And lit with sunlier sunlight through and through. + + The sun is single, but her eyes are twain, + And of fair things this side of Paradise + Fairest, of goodly things most goodly. + + Rise! + And succor the benighted world that cries, + _The sun is single, but her eyes are twain_! + + + + + 54 + + “--OF ANISE AND CUMMIN ALSO” + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + It is in vain I mirror forth the praise + In pondered virelais + Of her that is the lady of my love; + Far-sought and curious phrases fail to tell + The tender miracle + Of her white body and the grace thereof. + + Thus many and many an artful-artless strain + Is fashioned all in vain: + Sound proves unsound; and even her name, that is + To me more glorious than the glow of fire + Or dawn or love’s desire + Or opals interlinked with turquoises, + Mocks utterance. + + So, lacking skill to praise + That perfect bodily beauty which is hers, + Even as those worshippers + Who bore rude offerings of honey and maize, + Their all, into the gold-paved ministers + Of Aphroditê, I have given her these + My faltering melodies, + That are Love’s lean and ragged messengers. + + + + + 55 + + “SWEET ADELAIS” + + --After RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + Had you lived when earth was new + What had bards of old to do + Save to sing in praise of you? + + Had you lived in ancient days, + Adelais, sweet Adelais, + You had all the ancients’ praise,-- + You whose beauty would have won + Canticles of Solomon, + Had the sage Judean king + Gazed upon this goodliest thing + Earth of Heaven’s grace hath got. + + Had you gladdened Greece, were not + All the nymphs of Greece forgot? + + Had you trod Sicilian ways, + Adelais, sweet Adelais, + You had pilfered all their praise: + Bion and Theocritus + Had transmitted unto us + Honeyed harmonies to tell + Of your beauty’s miracle, + Delicate, desirable, + And their singing skill were bent + You-ward tenderly,--content, + While the world slipped by, to gaze + On the grace of you, and praise + Sweet Adelais. + + Had you lived in Roman times + No Catullus in his rhymes + Had lamented Lesbia’s sparrow! + He had praised your forehead, narrow + As the newly-crescent moon, + White as apple-trees in June; + He had made some amorous tune + Of the laughing light Erôs + Snared as Psychê-ward he goes + By your beauty,--by your slim, + White, perfect beauty. + + After him + Horace, finding in your eyes + Horace limned in lustrous wise, + Would have made you melodies + Fittingly to hymn your praise, + Sweet Adelais. + + Had your father’s household been + Guelfic-born or Ghibelline, + Beatricê were unknown + On her star-encompassed throne. + + For, had Dante viewed your grace, + Adelais, sweet Adelais, + You had reigned in Bicê’s place,-- + Had, for candles, Sirius, + Rigel and Rutilicus, + Whilst you heard Zacháriel + Chant of you, and, chanting, tell + All the grace of you, and praise + Sweet Adelais. + + Had you lived when earth was new + What had bards of old to do + Save to sing in praise of you? + + They had sung of you always, + Adelais, sweet Adelais, + As worthiest of all men’s praise; + Nor had undying melodies + Wailed soft as love may sing of these + Dream-hallowed names,--of Héloïse, + Ysoude, Salomê, Semelê, + Morgaine, Lucrece, Antiopê, + Brunhilda, Helen, Mélusine, + Penelopê, and Magdalene: + --But you alone had all men’s praise, + Sweet Adelais. + + + + + 56 + + LOVE’S LOVERS + + --After RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + _Nor had undying melodies + Wailed soft as love may sing of these + That are love’s martyrs,--Héloïse, + Brunhilda, Helen, Mélusine, + Antiopê, and Magdalene,-- + Ysoude, Salomê, Semelê, + Lucretia, and Penelopê._ + + What of these ladies that have been + Exalted by stern songs wherein + Beats strong the valorous heart of Love + And all the power and pride thereof-- + Unto what haven are they sped? + + Because they are not wholly dead: + The Land of Matters Unforgot + They walk at will, where time is not + And death has no dominion,-- + And there they never view the sun, + But through a vague and amiable + Hushed twilight pass, and, passing, tell + Their tale of ancient miseries, + And neither laugh nor weep. + + To these, + Whose lives were troubled harmonies + Whereby the heart of Love yet is + Enamored, Love at last accords + An end of love. To these, the Lords + Of Life and Death, that kindled lust, + And wrath, and joy frail as blown dust, + And faith like flame that braves the wind; + And kindled for each sin they sinned + Fame, and for every misery fame + Set as a flaring star to flame + And blaze and glow above the seas + Where light love founders: have granted peace + Unvexed by heart-beats.--Thus they pass, + Desiring naught of life that was + Exhausted of all things long ago,-- + With void eyes, emptied of woe, + Emptied of joy, pass hand-in-hand, + Being shadows in a shadow land. + + The story of their love is writ + In song; the valiant sound of it + Endures unaltered evermore: + But we, that love as heretofore + These loved, must perish, as they, and be + Forgotten by all men utterly. + + I cry _Content_! Our names will die. + I cry _Content_! and cheerily, + Félise. + + Our love-songs are unsung, + Yet we have loved. We have been young + In April and in unison ... + Oblivious of oblivion, + And heedless of each after-year, + How well we lived our verses, dear! + + + + + VIII + + RIDENS + + “_Soient blanches, soient brunettes_” + + + + + 57 + + BALLAD OF PLAGIARY + + “_Frères et maîtres, vous qui cultivez_” + + --PAUL VERVILLE. + + + Hey, my masters, lords and brothers, ye that till the fields of rhyme, + Are ye deaf ye will not hearken to the clamor of your time? + + Still ye blot and change and polish--vary, heighten and transpose-- + Old sonorous metres marching grandly to their tranquil close. + + Ye have toiled and ye have fretted; ye attain perfected speech: + Ye have nothing new to utter and but platitudes to preach. + Still your rhymes are all of loving, as within the old days when + Love was lord of the ascendant in the horoscopes of men. + + Still ye make of love the utmost end and scope of all your art, + And, more blind than he you write of, note not what a modest part + Loving now may claim in living, when we have scant time to spare, + Who are plundering the sea-depths, taking tribute of the air,-- + Whilst the sun makes pictures for us; since to-day, for good or ill, + Earth and sky and sea are harnessed, and the lightnings work our will. + + Hey, my masters, all these love-songs by dust-hidden mouths were sung + That ye mimic and re-echo with an artful-artless tongue,-- + Sung by poets close to nature, free to touch her garments’ hem + Whom to-day ye know not truly; for ye only copy them. + + Them ye copy, copy always, with your backs turned to the sun, + Caring not what man is doing, noting that which man has done. + + _We are talking over telephones, as Shakespeare could not talk; + We are riding out in motor-cars, where Homer had to walk; + And pictures Dante labored on of mediæval Hell + The nearest cinematograph paints quicker, and as well._ + + But ye copy, copy always;--and ye marvel when ye find + This new beauty, that new meaning,--while a model stands behind, + Waiting, young and fair as ever, till some singer turn and trace + Something of the deathless wonder of life lived in any place. + + Hey, my masters, turn from piddling to the turmoil and the strife! + Cease from sonneting, my brothers; let us fashion songs from life. + + THUS I WROTE ERE SYLVIA PASSED ME.... THEN DID I EPITOMIZE + ALL LIFE’S BEAUTY IN ONE POEM, AND MAKE HASTE TO EULOGIZE + QUITE THE FAIREST THING LIFE BOASTS OF, FOR I WROTE OF SYLVIA’S EYES. + + + + + 58 + + TOUCHING UBIQUITY + + “_Voulant faire un cadeau digne de la plus belle_” + + --CHARLES GARNIER. + + + I + + The gods in honor of my Sylvia’s worth + Bore gifts to her:--and Jove, Olympus’ lord, + Co-rule of Earth and Heaven did accord, + And Hermes brought that lyre he framed at birth, + And Venus her famed girdle (to engirth + A fairer beauty now), and Mars his sword, + And wrinkled Plutus half the secret hoard + And immemorial treasure of mid-earth;-- + + And while the careful gods were pondering + Which of these goodly gifts the goodliest was, + Young Cupid came among them carolling + And proffered unto her a looking-glass, + Wherein she gazed and saw the goodliest thing + That Earth had borne, and Heaven might not surpass. + + + II + + Cupid invaded Hell, and boldly drove + Before him all the hosts of Erebus, + Till he had conquered; and grim Cerberus + Sang madrigals, the Furies rhymed of love, + Old Charon sighed, and sonnets rang above + The gloomy Styx; and even as Tantalus + Was Prosperine discrowned in Tartarus, + And Cupid regnant in the place thereof. + + Thus Love is monarch throughout Hell to-day; + In Heaven we know his power was always great; + And Earth acclaimed Love’s mastery straightway + When Sylvia came to gladden Earth’s estate:-- + Thus Hell and Heaven and Earth his rule obey, + And Sylvia’s heart alone is obdurate. + + + + + 59 + + FANCIES IN FILIGREE + + --Strambotti of ALESSANDRO DE MEDICI. + + + XXIV + + “_Guarda negli occhi la nostra regina_” + + My Lady’s Eyes Remembrance bring + Of lyttel Waves whose Wavering + Beneathe ye roving Summer Breeze + Makes scintillant hushed Summer Seas + Whenas ye Sun is vanishing. + + They gladden me, as when in Spring + We sing & knowe not why we sing. + In sooth, there be noe Eyes like these + My Lady’s Eyes. + + Whenas their Glance is threatening + They frighten Cupid, & that King + From Florimel a-quaking flees; + But when they soften, on hys Knees + Love falls before them worshipping + My Lady’s Eyes. + + + XLI + + “_Rime d’amore usar dolci e leggiadre_” + + Ye little Rhyme I swore last Night + To lay before ye Eyes so bright + I have long loved--& loved too well!-- + So now ye Muses to compell, + & shapely Phrases to indite. + + Which shall it be?--Ye Villanelle, + Ode, Triolet, Rondeau, Rondel, + Ballade, or Sonnet?--Each is hight + Ye littel Rhyme. + + Yet none will aide my hapless Plight: + All little Rhymes are short & slight, + & of ye Charmes of Florimel + An Epick’s Length alone can tell,-- + So that of her I may not write + Ye lyttel Rhyme. + + + + + 60 + + IT IS ENOUGH + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + Love me or love me not, it is enough + That I have loved you, seeing my whole life is + Uplifted and made glad by the glory of Love,-- + My life that was a scroll bescrawled and blurred + With tavern-catches, which that pity of his + Erased, and wrote instead one lonely word, + _Yolande!_ + + I have accorded you incessant praise + And song and service, dear, because of this; + And always I have dreamed incessantly + Who always dreamed,--_When in oncoming days + This man or that shall love you, and at last + This man or that shall win you, it must be + That, loving him, you will have pity on me + When happiness engenders memory + And long thoughts nor unkindly of the past, + Yolande!_ + + Of this I know not surely,--who am sure + That I shall always love you while I live, + And that, when I am dead, with naught to give + Of song or service, Love will yet endure, + And yet retain his last prerogative, + When I lie still, and sleep out centuries + With dreams of you and the exceeding love + I bore you, and am glad dreaming thereof, + And give God thanks for all, and so find peace, + Yolande! + + + + + 61 + + AN ARCADIAN APOLOGIZES + + --After CHARLES GARNIER. + + + I pray you do not marvel, dear, that I, + Whenever with fond hardihood I try + To rhyme your praises, fail ingloriously. + + And marvel not that I in happier wise + Have hymned Félise and lauded Sylvia’s eyes, + And now may offer you no melodies. + + We poets are so made that when we be + Unscathed by love none woos so well as we, + But, wounded once, we worship silently. + + + + + 62 + + ARCADIANS CONFER IN EXILE + + --After CHARLES GARNIER. + + + I + + So long ago it was! Nay, is it true + In verity we passed a month or so + In Arcady when life and love were new + So long ago? + + The tide of time’s indomitable flow, + Augmenting, rears a drearier realm, whereto + We twain are exiled. Yet ... I do not know ... + Now that a woman calls, whose eyes are blue, + Whose speech is gracious--strangely sweet and low + She calls, and smiles as STELLA used to do + So long ago. + + + II + + I am not fit to follow; yet I pray + Some mighty task be set me, to commit + In her dear name, for trifles to essay + I am not fit. + + Nay, I, unstable and infirm of wit-- + Even I!--return to my old love to-day, + Whose bounty is so fond and infinite + That I am heartened, and made strong, and may + Not ever falter in deserving it, + If but for dread lest of such grace men say + I am not fit. + + + III + + Time has changed naught in us; for now the din + And darkness of tempestuous years, that wrought + So vainly, lift; and it is lightly seen + Time has changed naught. + + Such knowledge of those brawling years I bought: + _The thing which shall be is that which has been, + When heaven again surprises us, unsought, + And life returns full circle; and we win + Again to realms which with how little thought + We ceded, and find loyalty wherein + Time has changed naught._ + + + IV + + Sweetheart, I wait; now, as in time gone by, + Your suppliant, half-frightened, half-elate, + Outside the trellised doors of Arcady, + Sweetheart, I wait. + + Again I glimpse its meadows--through a grate, + Alas!--and streams and groves and cloudless sky; + And cry to you to be compassionate,-- + Yea, as of old to STELLA, now I cry + To you that once were STELLA; and my fate + Attends your piloting, for whose reply, + Sweetheart, I wait. + + + + + 63 + + THE EAVESDROPPERS + + --After ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + The heart of the twilight is troubled; and there + Where the stubbled fields bathe in colorless air, + And show as the chin of a giant unshorn, + Dog-weary, and dreaming of days unborn, + The east is perturbed; and night kindles to morn. + + Wide world, that wakes to each miracle + Each dawn engenders, thou wilt not tell, + If mother of me indeed thou art, + How gladly and furtively I depart + Master and lord of Phyllida’s heart. + + Hah, Lady Moon, so we meet again! + I remember. Who silvered the window-pane, + Climbed over heaped faggots with noiseless tread, + Turned velvet the cobwebs that gleamed overhead, + Stealthily, hearkening to all we said? + + Eavesdropper, keep my secret well! + Remember the tales that old poets tell + Of the Latmian hills, and a cave thereon + Whereinto passed when each day was done-- + Eavesdropper!--not only Endymion. + + Ye will not tell of it. Nor will he, + The owl that hoots now in yonder tree, + And flutters his wings, with a watchful eye + Bent through the boughs at a passer-by + Who laughs, in the dawn ... and he wonders why. + + + + + 64 + + NOSTALGIA + + --After ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + Were the All-Mother wise, life (shaped anotherwise) + Would be all high and true; + Could I be otherwise I had been otherwise + Simply because of you.... + _With whom I have naught to do, + And who are no longer you!_ + + Life with its pay to be bade us essay to be + What we became,--I believe + Were there a way to be what it was play to be + I would not greatly grieve.... + _Hearts are not worn on the sleeve. + Let us neither laugh nor grieve!_ + + BUT, OH, THE WORLD IS WIDE, DEAR LASS, + THAT I MUST WANDER THROUGH, + AND MANY A WIND AND TIDE, DEAR LASS, + MUST FLOW ’TWIXT ME AND YOU, + ERE LOVE THAT MAY NOT BE DENIED + SHALL BRING ME BACK TO YOU, + --DEAR LASS! + SHALL BRING ME BACK TO YOU. + + + + + IX + + APATURIA + + “_Ainsi m’ont amours abusé_” + + + + + 65 + + GRAY DAYS + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + I can find no meaning in life. + That have weighed the world,--and it was + Abundant with folly, and rife + With sorrows brittle as glass, + And with joys that flicker and pass + Like dreams through a fevered head; + And as the dripping of rain + In gardens naked and dead + Is the obdurate thin refrain + Of our youth which is presently dead. + + And Chloris, whom last I loved, + Looks ever with loathing on me, + As one she hath seen disproved + And stained with such smirches as be + Not ever cleansed utterly; + And is loth to remember the days + When destiny fixed her name + As the theme and the goal of my praise; + And my love engenders shame, + And I stain what I strive for and praise. + + Chloris, most perfect of all, + Just to have known you is well! + And it heartens me now to recall + That just to have known you is well. + And naught else is desirable + Save only to do as you willed + And to love you my whole life long;-- + But this heart in me is filled + With hunger cruel and strong, + And with hunger unfulfilled. + + Fond heart, though thy hunger be + As a flame that wanders unstilled, + There is none more perfect than she! + + + + + 66 + + A WOOD-PIECE + + + Yes, you will soon forget. Leaf-shadowed ways + Are disenchanted now; the kindly haze + Of love-light lifts from too-long loitering; + A kiss is now at most two lips that cling; + And mirth is dead now; and desire decays. + + Even now Love flutters restive wings, and stays + Impatient of restraint, what while I praise + Love’s old lost favor, past replevining,-- + But you will soon forget. + + Yes, you will soon forget: and naught betrays + That any heart save mine even now inveighs + In futile rage because nor youth nor spring + Can stay or solace light love’s vanishing. + I shall remember, dear, through all my days, + But you will soon forget. + + + + + 67 + + LOVE GOES INTO WINTER QUARTERS + + --After ANTOINE RICZI. + + + (THE SCENE a dale, somewhere in Arcady, + But filled with snow and sleet, made horrible + By many tramplings; there anon must be + A CRIER, robed in black and with a bell; + To whom a POET, peering curiously.) + + “What are thou calling, small sombre Crier?-- + Who seeks what fugitive? who is beguiled? + Is it a theft or a house to hire, + A sheriff’s sale or a stolen child?” + + _For none of these do I play the crier. + And toll a reward where the winds are wild, + And I strive knee-deep in the sleet and the mire + In quest of a kingdom undefiled._ + + “Reward, quoth he!--and how darest thou prattle + Of guerdon-giving, that goest in black, + Sans cap and sandals, where bleak winds battle + Which first may strip the rags from thy back?” + + _Of no compulsion save my own pleasure’s + I wear this black--for a mourning sign,-- + Till Yesterday waken, and yield the treasures + And gold-wrought garments which once were mine._ + + “Faith, only a madman dreams to muster + The bygone hours, bid them live again ... + Though Crœsus wheedle or Charlemaigne bluster, + Time heeds not at all, and they strive in vain.” + + _Nay, Time forgets them; for these--unlanded, + Unkinged, uncarnate, and cold,--lie hid + Where Time comes never, to be commanded;-- + Time cannot hear through the coffin’s lid._ + + “So it matters naught with what pomp they wended, + What queens they wed, and what realms they won! + These things were goodly; these things are ended; + And naught sleeps sounder than joy fordone.” + + _Cry Absit omen! the sermon is stupid-- + Hey, even of sermons I grow afraid, + Who am no madman, but outlawed_ CUPID, + _With never a place to lay my head_. + + _But Yesterday! for Yesterday! + I cry a reward for a Yesterday + Now lost or stolen or gone astray, + With all the laughter of Yesterday!_ + + (FOR WE HAVE MADE AN END OF AMOROUS PLAYING, + AND SHALLOW-HEARTED LOVE IS TURNED ASTRAY, + WITH CHILDISH SORROWING AND WEAK-VOICED PRAYING + FOR YESTERDAY.) + + + + + 68 + + FLOTSAM + + + We did not share the same inheritance,-- + I and this woman, five years older than I, + Yet daughter of a later century,-- + Who is therefore only wearied by that dance + Which has set my blood a-leaping. + + It is queer + To note how kind her face grows, listening + To my wild talk, and plainly pitying + My callow youth, and seeing in me a dear + Amusing boy,--yet somewhat old to be + Still reading _Alice Through the Looking-Glass_ + And _Water Babies_.... + + With light talk we pass. + + And I that have lived long in Arcady-- + I that have kept so many a foolish tryst, + And written drivelling rhymes--feel stirring in me + Droll pity for this woman who pities me, + And whose weak mouth so many men have kissed. + + + + + 69 + + HEIRS UNAPPARENT + + + How very heartily I hate + The man that will love you, + Some day, somewhere, and more than I, + And with a love more true;-- + Whom for that reason you will love + As you may not love me,-- + Though I might hold your heart, I think, + Held I one heart in fee. + + My dear, too many ghosts arise + Between us when I woo, + One mocking me with softer lips, + And one with eyes more blue, + And one with hands more fine than yours, + And one with lovelier hair, + Proclaiming:--_She is fair enough, + But then ... I too was fair._ + + _What of thy heart thou gavest me_ + (“And me!”--“And me!”)--_is thine + No more to give again. That part + Is mine._--(“And mine!”--“And mine!”) + _And he that plays with love too long + Gets love of many-an-one, + But is denied Love’s crowning grace, + And can give love to none._ + + Since these be truthful ghosts, I shrug + And woo you without tears + Or too much laughter, till with time + A properer Prince appears, + Whom very heartily I hate,-- + The man that will love you, + Some day, somewhere, and more than I, + And with a love more true. + + + + + 70 + + THE SUN’S HIGHWAY + + --After ANTOINE RICZI. + + + Though long be the way to the Limit of Lands, + And through leagues and leagues of treacherous sands, + And miles of marsh and mire, + One must win, if at all, to the rim of the west + Ere one enter the kingdom the sun loves best, + Yet there is my heart’s desire. + + And lately I learned of a pleasanter way + Which two of us travel on every day-- + Oh, for all that a staid world deems + None cross high heaven, men have forgot + The sun in his flamy chariot + And me in my car of dreams! + + Whereby we win to a land of ease + In whose stately glittering palaces + Wracked lives are lived anew,-- + For the sun and I go on pilgrimage + To the lovelier land of a younger age, + Where what might have been is true. + + I may not know on what lordly quest + The sun fares sturdily into the west, + But I know that he goes with joy, + And espies, perhaps, past the mountained rim + Repentant Daphnê awaiting him, + Or Creusa no longer coy. + + There, too, she waits whom alone I love; + And a chill light heart that I could not move + And bright eyes which would not see + My heart’s hard hunger, no more the same, + Enkindle and nourish love’s lovely flame, + And its beacon burns for me. + + Well! I must win to her; I must kneel-- + Kneel at her naked feet,--and feel + Soft hands that caress my hair + Silently--oh, in such tender wise + That I shall not hasten to raise tired eyes + To a face however fair. + + Fair face unstained by the grave’s eclipse! + Fair face that lifts now to no man’s lips + And troubles no man’s sleep! + The woman that wore you has children now ... + But that is nothing; I keep my vow, + And I have a tryst to keep. + + And so in a world whose tumults seem + Intriguing shadows I tread, and dream + Of a maiden who dreams of me: + For the tryst is set; be it late, be it soon, + Or east of the sun or west of the moon, + I shall win to you, Dorothy. + + + + + 71 + + THE OLDEST DITTY + + --After NICOLAS DE CAEN. + + + And so farewell;--for now assuredly + Did the long pulse of the profoundest sea, + So deep it knows not light nor any heat, + Vex now some seaweed thick about my feet + Which there had nodded through a century, + All faith in you were not more dead in me,-- + And so farewell! + + And so, _Farewell!_ I cry,--that may not see + Love quicken in the eyes of Dorothy + Ever again, nor evermore repeat + Mad rhymes to her, nor ever bend to meet + Her lips this side of all eternity;-- + _Love hath nowhere enfixed pre-potency, + And so farewell!_ + + + + + 72 + + TO THE SAME AIR AS THE PRECEDING + + + _And so farewell_ (as my rondeau wails + In obsolete accents and absolute truth), + For all is over, and nothing avails + To capture the rapture of last year’s youth. + + All is quite over. Touch hands. Good-bye. + For you the future is nowise dim; + For me there are other women, and I + Must forget you now, since that is your whim. + + And we will laugh in the after-times + At two young people we knew, no doubt, + Who scribbled each other such woeful rhymes + And played a comical tragedy out. + + We shall not die of it. We shall be + Contented and healed of the passing smart; + And yet if you had not tired of me, + Life while life lasted were yours, sweetheart. + + + + + X + + ARMATA + + “_Ainsi le bon temps regretons_” + + + + + 73 + + LIGHT COINAGE + + --“MERCURIENS”: PAUL VERVILLE. + + + XX + + “_C’est une comédie, qui termine aujourd’huy_” + + That comedy we end, content to please + Its players merely, was a comedy + Wherein Love had no part. It may not be + Enrolled among Love’s mighty memories, + And men unborn will read of Héloïse, + And Ruth, and Rosamond, and Semelê, + When none remembers your name’s melody + Or rhymes your name enregistered with these. + + And will my name wake moods as amorous + As that of Abélard or Lancelot + Arouses? be recalled when Pyramus + And Tristram are unrhymed of and forgot?-- + Time’s laughter answers, who accords to us + More gracious fields, wherein we harvest--what? + + + XXIII + + “_Voicy! un autre chante!--Il n’est pas interdit_” + + _A singer, eh?... Well, well! but when he sings + Take jealous heed lest idiosyncrasies + Entinge and taint too deep his melodies; + See that his lute has no discordant strings + To harrow us; and let his vaporings + Be all of virtue and its victories, + And of man’s best and noblest qualities, + And scenery, and flowers, and similar things._ + + Thus bid our paymasters, whose mutterings + Some few deride, and blithely link their rhymes + At random; and, as ever, on frail wings + Of wine-stained paper scribbled with such rhymes + Men mount to heaven, and loud laughter springs + From hell’s midpit, whose fuel is such rhymes. + + + + + 74 + + GRAVE GALLANTRY + + --After CHARLES GARNIER. + + + I + + My rival Death is fashioned amorously;-- + No caliph boasts more comely wives than he, + For whom crowned Cleopatra reft the snare + Of careful-eyed Octavius, and--less fair + Than she, but lovely still--Leucothoë, + And Atalanta, and Antigonê, + Loosed virgin zones.... What need hadst thou to be + Desirous then of this girl’s lips and hair, + My rival Death? + + What need hadst thou likewise of Dorothy! + What need of that which was all life to me! + What need, lascivious Death, that she forswear + Fond oaths to me--fond oaths made otherwhere-- + In thy lank arms, and leave me friends with thee, + My rival, Death! + + + II + + Had she divined how many virelais + Have feebly parodied some piercing phase + Of love for her whom love lacked might to claim-- + How many rhymes have marshalled frail and lame, + Yet fervent-hearted, to avouch her praise,-- + Such pity had been mine as well repays + Drear years of waiting. Ey, in kindlier days + Compassion might have worn some kinglier name + Had she divined. + + Now that may never be; divergent ways + Allured; and all is ended; and naught betrays + Dead cheeks to kindle, now, with livelier flame + For aught I utter.... Yet it were no shame + To dream a little on her softening gaze + Had she divined. + + + III + + That she is dead breeds no uncouth despair, + However,--as death bred when men would bear + A glove upon their helms, and slay or sing + In honor of its giver, hazarding + Life and life’s aims because a girl was fair ... + Grotesque their liege-lord seems when we compare + That Cupidling who spurs me to declare + Sedate regret, in rhythmic sorrowing + That she is dead. + + Nay, he is much the punier of the pair,-- + My little lord, who dreads lest critics stare + Too pointedly,--a flimsy fainéant king;-- + Yet hearts may crack without crude posturing. + This girl is dead; and I confess I care + That she is dead. + + + + + 75 + + BY-WORDS + + --After ALPHONSE MOREAU. + + + Not even now in all things may there be + An end of folly; nor, as mutineers + Against love’s lunacy, that now appears + Of no more weight or worth or urgency + Than last night’s dreams,--not wholly yet may we + Become in all things like all our compeers, + That are armored by interminable years + And keep no vestige of insanity. + + _What yet remains, now we drift far apart, + With seas between, and each of us forgets + The happenings of all our happy days?_-- + Your by-words, heard on other lips, to raise + Love’s pitiable phantom in my heart, + And waken mirthful memories and regrets. + + + + + 76 + + ANOTHER LABORER WEIGHS HIS HIRE + + “_Amors, tant vos ai servit_” + + --RAIMBAUT DE VAQUEIRAS. + + + Lord, I have worshipped thee ever,-- + Through all these years + I have served thee, forsaking never + Light Love that veers + As a child between laughter and tears. + Hast thou no more to afford,-- + Naught save laughter and tears,-- + Love, my lord? + + I have borne thy heaviest burden, + Nor served thee amiss: + When thou hast given a guerdon, + Lo, it was this-- + A sigh, a shudder, a kiss. + Hast thou no more to accord? + I would have more than this, + Love, my lord. + + I am wearied of love that is pastime + And gifts that it brings; + I entreat of thee, lord, at this last time + Ineffable things. + Nay, have proud long-dead kings + Stricken no subtler chord, + Whereof the memory clings, + Love, my lord? + + But for a little we live; + Show me thine innermost hoard! + Hast thou no more to give, + Love, my lord? + + + + + 77 + + RETRACTIONS + + --After THÉODORE PASSERAT. + + + YOU ASK A SONNET?--WELL, IT IS YOUR RIGHT. + I GRANT IT, LAUGH, SHRUG, SET ABOUT THE TASK, + AND MAKE A SEQUENCE, SINCE IT IS MY RIGHT + NO MORE TO GIVE YOU ONLY WHAT YOU ASK. + + + I + + Although as yet my cure be incomplete, + Yet love of you, time-lulled and vigorless, + Engenders now no more unhappiness, + Not even discontent. And now we meet + Unmoved--half-waggish,--and my pulses beat + Quite calmly as I wonder now, _Is he + As proud as I was? and--as once to me-- + To him is her love lovely and very sweet?_ + + Nor do I grudge him any joy of his + Who follows on a road that I have trod, + And sues for love where I was wont to sue; + I am contented by remembrances, + And know that neither fate nor time, nor God, + Robs me of that first mastery of you. + + + II + + I am contented by remembrances,-- + Dreams of dead passions, wraiths of vanished times, + Fragments of vows, and by-ends of old rhymes,-- + Flotsam and jetsam tumbling in the seas + Whereon, long since, put forth our argosies + Which, launched for traffic in the Isles of Love, + Lie foundered somewhere in some firth thereof, + Encradled by eternal silences. + + Thus, having come to naked bankruptcy, + Let us part friends, as thrifty tradesmen do + When common ventures fail; for it may be + These battered oaths and rhymes may yet ring true + To some fair woman’s hearing, so that she + Will listen and think of love, and I of you. + + + III + + You have chosen the love “that lives sans murmurings, + Sans passion,” and incuriously endures + The gradual lapse of time. You have chosen as yours + A level life of little happenings; + And through the long autumnal evenings + Lord Love, no doubt, is of the company, + And hugs your ingleside contentedly, + Smiles at old griefs, and rustles needless wings. + + And yet I think that sometimes memories + Of divers trysts, of blood that urged like wine + On moonlit nights, and of that first long kiss + Whereby your lips were first made one with mine, + Awake and trouble you, and loving is + Once more important and perhaps divine. + + + IV + + You have chosen; and I cry content thereto, + And cry your pardon also, and am reproved + In that I took you for a woman I loved + Odd centuries ago, and would undo + That curious error. Nay, your eyes are blue, + Your speech is gracious, but you are not she; + And I am older,--and changed how utterly!-- + I am no longer I, you are not you. + + Time, destined as we thought but to befriend + And guerdon love like ours, finds you beset + With joys and griefs I neither share nor mend + Who am a stranger; and we two are met + Nor wholly glad nor sorry, and the end + Of too much laughter is a faint regret. + + + V + + It is in many ways made plain to us + That love must grow like any common thing, + Root, bud, and leaf, ere ripe for garnering + The mellow fruitage front us; even thus + Must Helena encounter Thesëus + Ere Paris come, and every century + Spawn divers queens who die with Antony + But live a great while first with Julius. + + Thus I have spoken the prologue of a play + Wherein I have no part, and laugh, and sit + Contented in the wings, whilst you portray + An amorous maid with gestures that befit + This lovely rôle,--as who knows better, pray. + Than I that helped you in rehearsing it? + + + VI + + With Love I garnered mirth, and dreams, and shame; + And half his playmate, half his worshipper, + I flouted him, and yet might not demur + To do his bidding, or in aught defame + Love’s tutorage,--not even when you came, + And at the portal of Love’s golden house + We hazarded stray kisses, sighs and vows, + And lightly staked them in a hackneyed game. + + And now the game is ended, dear; and we + May not re-enter that august domain + Which we, encoasting, lost eternally; + And now, although beloved by many men, + You may love no man as you have loved me, + Who have loved you as I may not love again. + + + VII + + Unto how many futures I was heir + In those old talks, which fixed what must be done + When we at last should rule (in Babylon + Perhaps, or in Caer-Is, or Kennaquhair), + And must do this or that, and bravely share + Fantastic fates, whose frolic freakishness + Seems how less quaint than this is,--to confess + That I have lost you, and do not greatly care! + + Well! had we never cared, in all that fleet + Sweet time which passed so swiftly and is gone-- + And gone eternally!--yet it was sweet + To play at loving, for all that every groan, + And gainless grieving, was in counterfeit + And parody of love, ungained, unknown. + + + VIII + + And so we played at loving. So we played + With love as venturous children in the sea + Wade ankle-deep, and laugh, and wistfully + Peer at the world’s far rim, being half-afraid. + Half-wistful. So we laughed, and we obeyed + That changeless law which sways the cosmic plan, + And ever draws the maid unto the man, + And ever draws the man unto the maid. + + The sea hides deep our fragile argosy, + And idle doubts quest fruitlessly above + Those shattered hulks, too frail to brave the sea, + Too frail to brave the wrath and mirth thereof: + I had not heart to love you heartily, + You were too shrewd to be befooled by love. + + + IX + + Time was I coveted the woes they rued + Whose love commemorates them--I that meant + To get like grace of love then!--and intent + To win, as they had done, love’s plenitude, + Rapture and havoc, vauntingly I sued + That love like theirs might make a toy of me, + At will caressed, at will (if publicly) + Demolished, as Love found or found not good. + + To-day I am no longer overbrave. + I have a fever--I that always knew + This hour was certain!--and am too weak to rave, + Too tired to seek (as later I must do) + Tried remedies--time, manhood and the grave,-- + To drug, abate and banish love of you. + + + X + + Time was I loved you.... And indeed I came + To love you so time hardly washes out + The scars of an old moment which, as flame + Leaps toward chaff, bereft me even of doubt: + And then indeed I knew you had deceived me-- + You, even you!--and counterfeiting truth + So cunningly that you and I believed me, + I cried, _I will forget!_ ... This was in youth. + + Now, being older and less over-nice, + I estimate these follies, breed of them + My little books,--shift, polish and re-price + The jewels of a battered diadem,-- + And cry, _What hope of heaven for those who sell + What I am vending? and what need of hell?_ + + + XI + + We are as time moulds us, lacking wherewithal + To shape out nobler fortunes or contend + Against all-patient Fates, who may not mend + The allotted pattern of things temporal, + Or alter it a thread’s-width, or let fall + A single stitch thereof, until at last + The web and its drear weavers be overcast, + And predetermined darkness swallow all. + + They have ordained for us a time to sing, + A time to love, a time wherein to tire + Of all spent songs and kisses; carolling + Such elegies as buried dreams require, + Love now departs, and leaves us shivering + Beside the embers of a burned-out fire. + + + XII + + Cry _Kismet!_ and take heart. Erôs is gone, + Nor may we follow to that loftier air + Olympians breathe. Take heart, and enter where + A lighter love-lord takes a heatless sun, + Oblivious of tangled webs ill-spun + By ancient wearied weavers, for it may be + His guidance leads to lovers of such as we + And hearts so credulous as to be won. + + Cry _Kismet!_ Put away vain memories + Of all old sorrows and of all old joys, + And learn that life is never quite amiss + So long as unreflective girls and boys + Remember that young lips were meant to kiss, + And hold that laughter is a seemly noise. + + + XIII + + So, let us laugh.... How quaint that even I + Was once a fool such as each fool bemocks, + Burlesques and shames! how droll a paradox + It is that we meet calmly! nor deny + That I in an old time dared to be I, + And you in that same season dared be you, + When commonly we wooed (as others do, + And we do not, now) dreams which do not die,-- + + But take new life, with new idolaters. + Among our juniors; and in naught are kin + To our time-tempered blood which, drowsing, stirs + A little, recollecting with what din + And ardor we assailed stark barriers + Proved obdurate ere we were locked therein. + + + XIV + + So, let us laugh,--lest vain rememberings + Breed, as of old, some rude bucolic cry + Of awkward anguishes, of dreams that die + Without decorum, of Love lacking wings + Yet striving you-ward in his flounderings + Eternally,--as now, even when I lie + As I lie now, who know that you and I + Exist and heed not lesser happenings. + + I was. I am. I will be. Eh, no doubt + For some sufficient cause, I drift, defer, + Equivocate, dream, hazard, grow more stout, + Age, am no longer Love’s idolater,-- + And yet I could and would not live without + Your faith that heartens and your doubts which spur. + + + XV + + Nightly I mark and praise, or great or small. + Such stars as proudly struggle one by one + To heaven’s highest place, as Procyon, + Antares, Naös, Tejat and Nibal + Attain supremacy, and proudly fall, + Still glorious, and glitter, and are gone + So very soon;--whilst steadfast and alone + Polaris gleams, and is not changed at all. + + Daily I find some gallant dream that ranges + The heights of heaven; and as others do, + I serve my dream until my dream estranges + Its errant bondage, and I note anew + That nothing dims, nor shakes, nor mars, nor changes. + Fond faith in you and in my love of you. + + AND THEREFORE PRAISE I EVEN THE MOST HIGH + LORD CHANCE,--THAT, BEING OF KIN WITH SETEBOS, + IN ORDERING LIFE’S LABOR, STRIFE AND LOSS, + ORDAINED THAT YOU BE YOU, AND I BE I. + + + + + 78 + + GARDEN-SONG + + “_Adieu, nous n’irons plus aux champs_” + + --CHARLES GARNIER. + + + Farewell to Fields and Butterflies + And levities of Yester-year! + For we espy, and hold more dear, + The Wicket of our Destinies. + + Whereby we enter, once for all, + A Garden which such Fruit doth yield + As, tasted once, no more Afield + We fare where Youth holds carnival. + + Farewell, fair Fields, none found amiss + When laughter was a frequent noise + And golden-hearted girls and boys + Appraised the mouth they meant to kiss. + + Farewell, farewell! but for a space + We, being young, Afield might stray, + That in our Garden nod and say, + _Afield is no unpleasant place_. + + + + + 79 + + THE CAVERN OF PHIGALIA + + (_Adytum of Demeter Melænis_) + + + I enter, + Proud and erect: + I take my fill of delight + Imperiously, irrationally. + And none punishes. + + --Not yet. + + But in three months + And in three months + And in three more months, + The avenger comes forth + And mocks me + By being as I am, + Visibly, + And by being foredoomed + To do as I have done, + Inevitably. + + + + + 80 + + AT PARTING + + + _Thus then I end my calendar + Of ancient loves more light than air;-- + And now Lad’s Love, that led afar + In April fields that were so fair, + Is fled, and I no longer share + Sedate unutterable days + With Heart’s Desire, nor ever praise + Félise, or mirror forth the lures + Of Stella’s eyes nor Sylvia’s, + Yet love for each loved lass endures._ + + _Chloris is wedded, and Ettarre + Forgets; Yolande loves otherwhere, + And worms long since made bold to mar + The lips of Dorothy and fare + Mid Florimel’s bright ruined hair; + And time obscures that roseate haze + Which glorified hushed woodland ways + When Phyllis came, as time obscures + That faith which once was Phyllida’s,-- + Yet love for each loved lass endures._ + + _That boy is dead as Schariar, + Tiglath-pileser, or Clotaire, + Who once of love got many a scar. + And his loved lasses past compare?-- + None is alive now anywhere. + Each is transmuted nowadays + Into a stranger, and displays + No whit of love’s investitures. + I let these women go their ways, + Yet love for each loved lass endures._ + + _Heart o’ My Heart, thine be the praise + If aught of good in me betrays + Thy tutelage--whose love matures + Unmarred in these more wistful days,-- + Yet love for each loved lass endures._ + + + EXPLICIT + + + + + Transcriber’s note: + + + Obvious errors have been silently corrected in this version, but +minor inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained as printed. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78264 *** diff --git a/78264-h/78264-h.htm b/78264-h/78264-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..370868a --- /dev/null +++ b/78264-h/78264-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6825 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <title> + From The Hidden Way | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p1 {margin-top: 1em;} +.pb1 {margin-bottom: 1em;} +.pb4 {margin-bottom: 4em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +hr.r50h {width: 50%; height: 2px; background-color: black; margin-top: .2em; margin-bottom: .2em; margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25%;} +hr.r90h {width: 90%; height: 2px; background-color: black; margin-top: .2em; margin-bottom: .2em; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; 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+ color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2.0em;} +.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1.0em;} +.poetry .indent6 {text-indent: 0.0em;} +.poetry .indent8 {text-indent: 1.0em;} +.poetry .indent10 {text-indent: 2.0em;} +.poetry .indent12 {text-indent: 3.0em;} +.poetry .indent14 {text-indent: 4.0em;} +.poetry .indent16 {text-indent: 5.0em;} +.poetry .indent18 {text-indent: 6.0em;} +.poetry .indent20 {text-indent: 7.0em;} +.poetry .indent22 {text-indent: 8.0em;} +.poetry .indent24 {text-indent: 9.0em;} +.poetry .indent26 {text-indent: 10.0em;} +.poetry .indent28 {text-indent: 11.0em;} +.poetry .indent29 {text-indent: 11.5em;} +.poetry .indent30 {text-indent: 12.0em;} +.poetry .indent32 {text-indent: 13.0em;} +.poetry .indent33 {text-indent: 13.5em;} +.poetry .indent34 {text-indent: 14.0em;} +.poetry .indent36 {text-indent: 15.0em;} +.poetry .indent40 {text-indent: 17.0em;} + +.f15 {font-size: 1.5em;} +.f20 {font-size: 2.0em;} +ul {list-style-type: none;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78264 ***</div> + + + + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse indent2"><span class="f20"><i>From</i></span></div> +<div class="verse indent2"><span class="f20"><i>The</i></span></div> +<div class="verse indent2"><span class="f20"><i>Hidden</i></span></div> +<div class="verse indent2"><span class="f20"><i>Way</i></span></div> +</div></div></div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div style="border: 2px solid; max-width: 30em;"> +<div style="border-bottom: 1px solid; padding-bottom: .5em;"> +<div style="margin: 1.5em; text-align: left;"> + +<p class="center f15">BOOKS <i>by</i> MR. CABELL</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>Biography</i>:</p> + +<ul> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Beyond Life</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Figures of Earth</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Domnei</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Chivalry</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Jurgen</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Line of Love</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The High Place</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Gallantry</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Certain Hour</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Cords of Vanity</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">From the Hidden Way</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Rivet in Grandfather’s Neck</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Eagle’s Shadow</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Cream of the Jest</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Straws and Prayer-books</span></span></li> +</ul> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Scholia</i>:</p> + +<ul> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Lineage of Lichfield</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Taboo</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">The Jewel Merchants</span></span></li> +</ul> +<hr class="tb"> +<ul> + <li><span style="margin-left: 1.0em;"><span class="smcap">Jurgen and the Law</span></span></li> + <li><span style="margin-left: 2.0em;">(<i>Edited by Guy Holt</i>)</span></li> +</ul> + +</div></div></div></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div> +<h1> +FROM THE<br> +HIDDEN WAY +</h1> + + +<p class="center f15"> +<i>Dizain des Échos</i> +</p> + +<p class="center p4"> +BY</p> + +<p class="center f15 pb4">JAMES BRANCH CABELL +</p> + +<hr class="r90h"> +<blockquote> +<p class="center">“<i>Tell me now in what hidden way is Lady +Flora, the lovely Roman? Where’s Hipparchia? +and where is Thaïs?... Where is Echo?</i>”</p> +</blockquote> +<hr class="r90h"> + +<p class="center p4"> +ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY<br> +NEW YORK : : : : : : 1924 +</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p class="center"> +Revised Version, Copyright,<br> +1916, by <span class="smcap">James Branch Cabell</span> +</p> +<hr class="r50h"> + + +<p class="center p4 pb4"> +<i>Printed in the</i><br> +<i>United States of America</i> +</p> + +<hr class="r50h"> +<p class="center"> +Published, 1924 +</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"> +TO<br> +BEVERLEY BLAND MUNFORD +</p> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>31 May 1910</i>) +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">“Most blithe and sage and gentle, and most brave!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O true clear heart, so quick to wake and war</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against despondency, lest questioning mar</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One hour of living, or foiled hopes enslave</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sour another’s living! not to the grave</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do we commit you,—we that, watching, are</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As men at twilight noting which bright star</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is leaped at, missed, clutched, swallowed by which wave.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">“The star is gone?—So be it. It will rise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Elsewhere, and undiminished. Even thus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We know that instantly in Paradise—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yea, in the inmost court of Heaven’s house,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A gentleman to God lifts those brave eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which yesterday made life more brave for us.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS"> + CONTENTS + </h2> +</div> + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdr"><span style="margin-left: 7.0em;">PAGE</span><br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#APOLOGIA_AUCTORIS"><span class="smcap">Apologia Auctoris</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">3<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#I"><span class="allsmcap">I.—MIGONITIS</span></a></p> + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#1"><span class="smcap">At Outset</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">13<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#2"><span class="smcap">The Oldest Story</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">15<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#3"><span class="smcap">False Dawn in Troy</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">19<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#4"><span class="smcap">Easter Eve</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">23<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#5"><span class="smcap">St. Magdalene</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">24<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#6"><span class="smcap">Marcus Aurelius: a Suppressed “Meditation”</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">26<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#7"><span class="smcap">Amaimon Visits the Thebaid</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">28<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#8"><span class="smcap">Dame Venus in Thuringia</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">33<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#II"><span class="allsmcap">II.—EPISTROPHIA</span></a></p> + +<table class="autotable"> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#9"><span class="smcap">One End of Love</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">37<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#10"><span class="smcap">Villon Quits France</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">40<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#11"><span class="smcap">Invocation: to the Dark Venus</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">42<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#12"><span class="smcap">Ronsard Re-voices a Truism</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">45<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#13"><span class="smcap">Jaunts from Stratford</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">47<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#14"><span class="smcap">Invitation to the Voyage</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">49<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#15"><span class="smcap">Story of the Flowery Kingdom</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">52<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#16"><span class="smcap">The Hoidens</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">54<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#III"><span class="allsmcap">III.—LIBITINA</span></a></p> +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#17"><span class="smcap">According to Their Folly</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">59<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#18"><span class="smcap">Foot-Note for Idyls</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">61<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#19"><span class="smcap">The God-Father</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">63<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#20"><span class="smcap">Ballad of the Destroyer</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">66<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#21"><span class="smcap">Exhortation Toward Almsgiving</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">69<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#22"><span class="smcap">Comfort for Centenarians</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">71<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#23"><span class="smcap">The Conqueror Passes</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">73<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#24"><span class="smcap">The Mendicants</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">76<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#IV"><span class="allsmcap">IV.—HORTENSIS</span></a></p> +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#25"><span class="smcap">Alone in April</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">81<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#26">“—<span class="smcap">but Wisdom Is Justified of Her Children</span>”</a></td> +<td class="tdr">83<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#27"><span class="smcap">The Lovers’ Doxology</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">85<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#28"><span class="smcap">Of Annual Magic: at Twenty</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">86<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#29"><span class="smcap">Of Annual Magic: at Twenty-five</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">87<br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#30"><span class="smcap">Of Annual Magic: at Twenty-eight</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">89<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#31"><span class="smcap">Of Annual Magic: at Thirty</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">91<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#32"><span class="smcap">The Dotard Conjurer</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">92<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#V"><span class="allsmcap">V.—MELÆNIS</span></a></p> +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#33"><span class="smcap">Uncharted</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">97<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#34"><span class="smcap">School-Song</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">99<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#35">“<span class="smcap">As It Was in the Beginning</span>—”</a></td> +<td class="tdr">101<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#36"><span class="smcap">Ballad of the Double-Soul</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">102<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#37"><span class="smcap">When Travellers Return</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">105<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#38"><span class="smcap">Annals</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">106<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#39">“—<span class="smcap">and Ever Shall Be</span>”</a></td> +<td class="tdr">109<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#40"><span class="smcap">The Perfect Reason</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">111<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#VI"><span class="allsmcap">VI.—SCOTEIA</span></a></p> +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#41"><span class="smcap">Two in Twilight</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">115<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#42">“<span class="smcap">In Fine</span>,—”</a></td> +<td class="tdr">118<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#43"><span class="smcap">Sty-Song</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">119<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#44"><span class="smcap">The Toy-Maker</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">121<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#45"><span class="smcap">The Castle of Content</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">122<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#46"><span class="smcap">The Parodist</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">124<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#47"><span class="smcap">The Dark Companion</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">125<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#48"><span class="smcap">Sea-Scapes</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">127<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#VII"><span class="allsmcap">VII.—VERTICORDIA</span></a></p> + +<table class="autotable"> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#49"><span class="smcap">The Ageless Maid</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">131<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#50"><span class="smcap">From Afar</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">133<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#51"><span class="smcap">Competitors</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">135<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#52"><span class="smcap">The Striking Hour</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">137<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#53"><span class="smcap">Lights of the World</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">140<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#54">“—<span class="smcap">of Anise and Cummin Also</span>”</a></td> +<td class="tdr">142<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#55">“<span class="smcap">Sweet Adelais</span>”</a></td> +<td class="tdr">144<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#56"><span class="smcap">Love’s Lovers</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">148<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#VIII"><span class="allsmcap">VIII.—RIDENS</span></a></p> +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#57"><span class="smcap">Ballad of Plagiary</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">153<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#58"><span class="smcap">Touching Ubiquity</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">156<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#59"><span class="smcap">Fancies in Filigree</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">158<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#60"><span class="smcap">It Is Enough</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">160<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#61"><span class="smcap">An Arcadian Apologizes</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">162<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#62"><span class="smcap">Arcadians Confer in Exile</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">163<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#63"><span class="smcap">The Eavesdroppers</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">166<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#64"><span class="smcap">Nostalgia</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">168<br></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#IX"><span class="allsmcap">IX.—APATURIA</span></a></p> + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#65"><span class="smcap">Gray Days</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">173<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#66"><span class="smcap">A Wood-Piece</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">175<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#67"><span class="smcap">Love Goes into Winter Quarters</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">176<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#68"><span class="smcap">Flotsam</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">179<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#69"><span class="smcap">Heirs Unapparent</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">180<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#70"><span class="smcap">The Sun’s Highway</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">182<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#71"><span class="smcap">The Oldest Ditty</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">185<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#72"><span class="smcap">To the Same Air as the Preceding</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">186<br></td> +</tr> +</table> +<p class="center p2 pb1"><a href="#X"><span class="allsmcap">X.—ARMATA</span></a></p> +<table class="autotable"> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#73"><span class="smcap">Light Coinage</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">189<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#74"><span class="smcap">Grave Gallantry</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">191<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#75"><span class="smcap">By-Words</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">194<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#76"><span class="smcap">Another Laborer Weighs His Hire</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">195<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#77"><span class="smcap">Retractions</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">197<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#78"><span class="smcap">Garden-Song</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">208<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#79"><span class="smcap">The Cavern of Phigalia</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">210<br></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#80"><span class="smcap">At Parting</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">211</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center f15"><strong>APOLOGIA AUCTORIS</strong></p> + +<p class="center">“<i>Vous entendez bien joncherie?</i>” +</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="APOLOGIA_AUCTORIS"> + APOLOGIA AUCTORIS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>In agreeing to collaborate with Mr. Cabell, in preparing +this volume of his selections from my inedited +verses, I have been influenced by a number of considerations. +I am attempting in this place to indicate a few +of these.</p> + +<p>To begin with, it is generally known—according to +the literary reviewers,—that nowadays we are producing +an indigenous “new” poetry, of hitherto unknown directness +and simplicity; and that, in consequence, America +is rendering her poets the unprecedented tribute of purchasing +their volumes. That, of course, is one consideration.</p> + +<p>Conceivably, too, I think, it may be not unsalutary, +at this especial moment, to contrast the output of what +has been, in another place, not inappropriately described +as “the new naïveté” with the productions of poets who +were in reality naïve. Conceivably, at least, one way of +learning what is actually “natural” is to observe the +ways of unsophisticated persons. This much preamble +comes as warning that hereinafter you may look to encounter, +in default of the debatable simplicities of “new” +poetry, those genuinely simple melodies which were born +of ages less complex.</p> + +<p class="center p1 pb1">§</p> + +<p>I admit that, poetry having become in some sort a +salable commodity, a book of verse no longer absolutely +demands, as in the old days, a preface to explain and +palliate its existence. None the less, these verses based +upon pre-Renaissance formulæ must keep to the fashion +of their time, and come with a prose pursuivant.</p> + +<p>For the way needs clearing, since the road is clogged +with the makings of an ugly syllogism. No matter with +what joy we may admire “the new naïveté,” the poverty +of thought evinced in mediæval poetry remains +notorious; and it is, after all, only the mental gist of +a poem which is translatable.</p> + +<p>Yet, in truth, the feature which repels, and troubles +us, is not so much that the thoughts of these men were +feeble as that their beliefs were firm. The springtide +awakens loveliness and human joy therewith, true love +ennobles the lover, and death is a terrific adventuring +into the dark; such was their simple <i>credo</i>: and their +belief in its tenets was unquestioning. Now, it is perhaps +more subtle to consider spring as a meteorological +phenomenon, love as an ingenious device for perpetuating +the species, and death as a logical progression toward +higher spheres of activity; yet each may be a miracle, +for all that; and not any longer to see its wonder may +quite conceivably be loss rather than gain. Ophthalmia +is at the best an infirm basis whereon to assume airs of +superiority.</p> + +<p>Just so, these mediæval rhymesters wrote by choice of +what to us seems prosaic because to them it was throughout +heart-shakingly strange. Their more alert perceptions +were aware of a continuous wonderfulness, on every +side, which we have learned to overlook. It really is +astounding, when you come sanely to think of it, to find +a frost-nipped world converted overnight into a place of +warmth and beauty; and they said so, in the best language +they could muster. We heirs of more sophisticated +ages cannot but assent; yet even those few of us +who are still guilty, say, once in a blue moon, of reading +a little time-honored verse, avert with more congenial +interest toward the straggling eccentricities of <i>vers +libre</i> and of polyphonic prose, with such eye-arresting +gambits as “We maidens are many of us older than +sheep,” and “Hey, old world, shove your staid bonnet +over your ear!”</p> + +<p>It were flippant to suggest this is the interest that we +accord, with livelier concern, to any other approach of +the mentally unbalanced. Yet wonder, not bewilderment, +is the gateway to the palace of art. The grand +power of poetry, in particular, is its interpretative faculty +of so dealing with familiar things as to awaken a +full and new sense of their strangeness. And life affords +nothing more remarkable than its truisms. There +is a waggish saying somewhere as to how eagerly we +would all scramble for the best seats if God heralded +the coming of the crocus by mailing circulars or announced +a sunrise via the public journals. The conceit +is sound; for Omnipotence would, so to speak, be versifying +the commonplace by stressing its importance, much +as a noble rhyme and meter emphasize so insistently the +thought they clothe that the whole matter dwindles into +bathos if (after all) the thought prove mediocre. Yet +the real wonderfulness of the terrestrial pageant, even +then, would consist, not in its felicities of color, but in +its commonplaceness. For the most beautiful and terrible +thing about a sunrise is that it happens every day. +Just so the sun arose when Pliocene monstrosities held +the earth as their heritage, just so it arose to waken the +laborers of Nineveh, just so it arose as the cock crew +and Peter for the third time denied his Master: and just +so, too, it will arise—every day,—when Earth is a +frozen clod, trundling voiceless and naked through infinity. +A sunrise has nothing to do with man’s existence, +for all that it serves to time his clocks and rouse +his factory-whistles; and therein lies the fundamental +beauty of a sunrise, which is above and beyond and indifferent +to the utmost reach of human achievement, and +is therefore worthy to furnish recreation for human +thought.</p> + + +<p class="center p1 pb1">§</p> + +<p>Here, too, we touch one fallacy of our modernists who +insist that poetry should deal with workaday life, and +develop the poetic side of shopwindows and streetcars +and pessimism. But in shopwindows and streetcars and +consistent pessimism is to be contemplated nothing save +what man, whether for good or ill, has heaped together +in defiance of nature. He made these things, however +curious; he knows the elements whereof they are +compounded; and he comprehends—there wakens disenchantment—that +at a pinch he can patch up something else +of pretty much the same sort. Not hereabouts is to be +found aught fore-ordained and uncontrollable, or the +beauty of fatality—of Ἀνάγκη—and human inefficiency +thereunder, such as the old Greeks knew was necessary +to art’s highest strivings.</p> + +<p>And what is this Hellenic Ἀνάγκη, after all, but the +commonplace deified, with humanity as pawns? It is +assuredly sheer commonplace to point out that more or +less unpleasantness inevitably follows an elopement with +another man’s wife, or that miscegenation tends to +shorten life; yet works of very real merit have been +based upon these truisms, and nobody worth hearing +questions the poetry of the <i>Iliad</i> or of <i>Othello</i>. Nor is +in either case the commonplace an inessential; attempting +to imagine Helen as the fiancée of Menelaus, or +Othello as a Caucasian, you flounder into the inconceivable.</p> + +<p>An element of triteness, in fine, must be conceded as +necessary to first class art. That which becomes a classic +is, both by etymology and human nature, something +which belongs to a class. It is not in any way unique; +it is innocent of any “disturbing novelty.” Now, neither +Ovid’s Lynceus or Poe’s Dupin, nor even the indestructible +Mr. Holmes (of Baker Street, W. C.), could plausibly +detect any disturbing novelty in the poets of Raynouard’s +<i>Choix des poësies originales des Troubadours</i> +and Rochegude’s <i>Parnasse Occitanien</i>: and when we find +these tinkling verses, played always on the two strings +of love and death, astonishingly naïve, the thing is partly +owing, no doubt, to our superior perception of the proper +ends of poetry, but partly too to a more obtuse perception +of life’s actual wonderfulness. So that in criticism +it behooves us, like Agag of old, to tread softly. By the +rarest luck, there is no such pressing obligation laid on +many of us touching poets—whether immortal or minor,—as +compels us either to criticize or to read.</p> + +<p class="center p1 pb1">§</p> + +<p>And, truly, it is this consideration, above all others, +which emboldens me to make a volume out of those +verses that, for the most part, I “adapted” during my +college life, from bardic byways of even more ancient +eras.... For the rest, a formal bibliography of the +sources of this little book was begun, and laid aside as +entailing too much labor squandered to no utilitarian +end. Petronius and Villon, at worst, require scant introduction +to a generation which, the day before yesterday +at any rate, was familiar with <i>Quo Vadis</i> and <i>If I +Were King</i>. With Alessandro de Medici, as he misconducts +himself in de Musset’s <i>Lorenzaccio</i>, many of +us preserve a bowing acquaintance, however few extend +the intimacy to include his Latin or Italian verses; which, +if not positively unknown, would appear to have been +overshadowed, even for the specialist, by the similar +diversions of Alessandro’s more gifted great-grandfather, +Lorenzo the Magnificent. Then, too, Raimbaut +de Vaqueiras and his beloved Belhs Cavaliers figure at +respectable length in all books treating of Provençal +poetry. And Nicolas de Caen has, at any event, afforded +the late Mr. Howard Pyle the subject-matter for some +striking paintings.</p> + +<p>To the other side, apart from any poetical repute, +oblivion has swallowed even Antoine Riczi’s queer part +in the matrimonial affairs of King Henry the Fourth of +England. Such unfamiliar names as Charles Garnier +and Théodore Passerat and Alphonse Moreau are not +likely ever to cut a dash in popular romance; and, for +very obvious reasons, just as in the cases of Petronius +and Villon, their verses have never been adjudged particularly +suitable for undergraduates to worry through +in colleges. These, therefore, are indisputably forgotten, +if indeed in any general sense they were ever known. +Yet here as elsewhere—one would like to think at least, +with the discoverer’s thrill—the “iniquity of oblivion” +has scattered her poppy with rather injudicious cæcity.</p> + +<p>If Petronius be not precisely mediæval, he is past +doubt more antiquated than his present company in +nothing save an accident of birth. And the inclusion of +those scattered pieces hereinafter given severally under +the name of Paul Verville has seemed on various grounds +desirable, in spite of their (comparative) modernity of +tone. Into the making of such decisions must always +enter, of course, an element of purely personal taste, +wherewith proverbially there can be no disputing to the +arraigner’s profit. To those who do not honor maxims, +it can but be answered, with profound irrationality, that +all the verses in this book possess at least the common +feature of owing their existence in English to the fact +that, once upon a time, to put them into English seemed +to their transcriber a natural and desirable action. No +other bond has ever united the contents of any book of +English verse. And although this particular excuse for +making rhymes may very often prove inadequate, experience +tends to show that any other reason proves so +invariably.</p> + +<p class="center p1 pb1">§</p> + +<p>This book’s sub-title appears to me a bit affected. +But Mr. Cabell believes that it will please reviewers, by +enabling them to start off with a smart witticism about +its applicability to other books: and so I yield.... +Moreover, I find that, in printing a collection of +“adapted” verses, there seems to be no Median or Persic +makeshift whereby plodding translation may, with the +desirable precision, be distinguished from those less +faithful paraphrases in which the plagiarist has more +temerariously pulled about his larcenies. Upon consideration, +this has appeared as satisfactory a rule of thumb +as any:—to indicate the latter class by mention of an +author’s name; and with the former class, to include also +the first words of the original. The curious may seek +out at will the victims of some few unacknowledged +borrowings.</p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="smcap">Robert Etheridge Townsend.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lichfield</span> +<i>April, 1924</i>.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="I"> + I + <br> + MIGONITIS</h2> + +<p class="center">“<i>Autant en emporte ly vens</i>”</p> + +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="1"> + 1 + <br> + AT OUTSET + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Depart, depart, my book! and live and die</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Dependent on the idle fantasy</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Of men who cannot view you, quite, as I</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>For I am fond, and willingly mistake</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>My book to be the book I meant to make,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And cannot judge you, for that phantom’s sake.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Yet pardon me if I have wrought too ill</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In making you, that never spared the will</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To shape you perfectly, and lacked the skill.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Ah, had I but the power, my book, then I</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Had wrought in you some wizardry so high</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That no man but had listened....</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent33"><i>They pass by,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And shrug—as we, who know that unto us</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>It has been granted never to fare thus,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And never to be strong and glorious.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Is it denied me to perpetuate</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>What so much loving labor did create?—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>I hear Oblivion tap upon the gate,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And acquiesce, not all disconsolate.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">FOR I HAVE GOT SUCH RECOMPENSE</span></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">OF THAT HIGH-HEARTED EXCELLENCE</span></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">WHICH THE CONTENTED CRAFTSMAN KNOWS,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">ALONE, THAT TO LOVED LABOR GOES,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">AND DAILY DOES THE WORK HE CHOSE,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">AND COUNTS ALL ELSE IMPERTINENCE!</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="2"> + 2 + <br> + THE OLDEST STORY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center">“<i>Jadis il était roy d’Argos</i>”</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">He was a king in Argos,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She was a queen in Tyre,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And they went astray from the jogtrot way,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In quest of the heart’s desire.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">They had pillaged, in royal fashion,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rare raiments and spiceries</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the marts of Argos, to furnish them cargoes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For traffic in far-off seas;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And before them bright waters parted,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the wind was fair.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent24"><i>Because</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Love leads us</i>—they spoke, light-hearted,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Who is lord over man-made laws</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The High Gods noted them, idly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lolling in Paradise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And remarked they were erring widely</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From rules the High Gods devise.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">But the Most High Gods were wise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And conceded:—<i>They are not as We</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Whom no follies beguile; let them go for a while.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Yet presently all men must see</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>They attain not to where their desire is,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Lest laxity lose Us men’s love.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">—Thus Wotan ordained, or Osiris,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or Shiva, or Dagon, or Jove.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">—<i>We must think of Our pontiffs in Argos</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And praiseworthy prebends in Tyre,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Who would suffer dismay did the parish essay</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To win to man’s heart’s desire.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">So these two fared ever westward—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Elate, and in love with life—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Amid wide reprehension; for histories mention</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These were not husband and wife</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who fared westward, ever westward.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">—Beyond the Hesperides,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where the slow long stroke of their gilt oars broke</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lisping of virgin seas,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">They viewed the ends of the earth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where the Singing Maidens are</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Enthroned above death and birth:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And they still fared ever westward—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Elate, and alone, and afar</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the yelpings of little people,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For they viewed the ends of the earth.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Then the Gods gave word: and Their thunders stirred</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To requite, and to silence mirth;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that roving vessel was shattered</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As a handful of shaken dust</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ere twice They thundered.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent24">All peoples wondered,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cried:—<i>Lo, the Gods are just,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And, look you, abated no tittle</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Of punishment due these twain.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Even though They slumbered a little,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>We knew They would waken again:</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And, whether it was Bubastis,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Or Milcom, or Artemis</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Or Baäl, or Zeus, interrupted this cruise,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>We knew it would end in this</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>When he was a king in Argos,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And she was a queen in Tyre,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And they went astray from the jogtrot way,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In quest of the heart’s desire.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">THE OLD SONOROUS NAMES OF THESE</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">THAT FARED BEYOND THE HESPERIDES</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">IN QUEST OF REST AND JOY AND EASE,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">LONG SINCE WERE MOCKED AT; AND WERE HISSED</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">TO SEEK, THEY SOUGHT,—AND VIEWED, AND MISSED.</span></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">BUT LIFE REMAINS LIFE’S PLAGIARIST.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="3"> + 3 + <br> + FALSE DAWN IN TROY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Helenam omnes amant; invidia semper movente</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Alessandro de Medici</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">There is no man but loves her, I well know;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet mutinous women, muttering with pinched lips,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cast side-long glances always when—unvexed—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Queen Helen passes; for she is very fair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And they have only right and truth with them.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Women remember all the fevered years</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This siege has lasted; all its many ills;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The plague; the hunger; the unnumbered men</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who died because this queen is beautiful,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Men whom they loved, and she loved not at all</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor even knew by name.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent24">None but remembers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How coldly loved lips kissed her in farewell—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Coldly, because for fairer lips than hers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And for the sake of brighter and tearless eyes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This man went forth to battle. He thereafter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beheld the plume of lithe Achilles leap</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As flame among the fighting, or beheld</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sudden splendor of swart Diomed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crash through the press of spears; and lay quite still,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Remembering that way Queen Helen has</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of laughter, when the little sigh breaks through</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And spoils the music, or her way of speaking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which turns to music the most trivial words</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein that wonder and that wistfulness</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her voice has always held since Hector died,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Commingles with our rude and alien tongue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As honey with sharp wine. Such idle words</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As any man who, with uncovered head,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Waits and makes way when princes will to pass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May hear of her in passing, gladdened him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For all that death was fingering his throat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even now. He was content, remembering her</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Queen.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">For she is very beautiful;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And doubtless Paris, too, gets joy of her</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When in that gleaming place which is their home</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her soft arms lift, and clasp his neck, and loose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His helmet—scarcely dented as mine is,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where that wolf-visaged Greek smote yesterday</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who smites no coward blows to-day, I think.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">—But Paris loves not blows. And then he tells</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His version of the battle; and they kiss;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hear shrill women wailing over corpses</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Without; and kiss once more. And so he lies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon his cushioned couch, and is content,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Contented just to lie there, still as they</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who fought for his love’s sake lie now, and feel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her fingers moving gently mid his curls,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hear Queen Helen’s laughter.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent32">It is for this</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That hollow-eyed Œnone mumbles charms</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On twin-peaked Ida; and gaunt Menelaus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Slays silently; and heaven is wroth; and the banks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of slothful Styx, made populous with them</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose bodies rot unburied on the plains</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That girdle hapless Troy, are resonant</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With lamentation.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18">Thus it is for this</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One woman’s sake, whose beauty is as a fire</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fed by contending kings with honor and fame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And memories of distant homes and wives,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That all without there is a mighty stir</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of clanging armors, wrangling foreign tongues,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And many Grecian huts about our walls;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And famine and death within. It is for this</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One woman’s sake—who sleeps now, and in sleep</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Smiles, as I think, who may not see her thus,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That we the common soldiers gather here,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who are as naught in Troy Town, and go forth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As fodder to appease the fury of Death,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who ravens by Scamander.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent26">So we meet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the deep dawn; and furbish up our arms;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And call one to another, in the dusk,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With hearthside sayings and century-old jests,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until Æneas and Antenor come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our leaders, and with sharp words marshalling us,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bid sound the trumpet, and the Tymbrian gate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vomits us forth upon the barren plains.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="4"> + 4 + <br> + EASTER EVE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Ses meurtriers donc ses rencontraient de bon cœur</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">His murderers met. Their consciences were free:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun’s eclipse was past, the tumult stilled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In Jewry, and their duty well fulfilled.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Quoth Caiaphas:—<i>It wrung my heart to see</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>His mother’s grief, God knows! Yet blasphemy</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Was proven, the uprising imminent,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And all the church-supporting element</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Demanded action, sir, of you and me.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Quoth Pilate:—<i>When this Nazarene denied</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Even Cæsar’s rule, reluctantly I knew</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>My duty to the state, sir. Still, I tried,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>But found no way, to spare him yet stay true</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In loyalty.... And still, the poor lad cried,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>“Forgive them, for they know not what they do!”</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="5"> + 5 + <br> + ST. MAGDALENE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Femme je suis, ridée, povrette et ancienne</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Théodore Passerat.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Must I abide forever in this place</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of bloodless folk, amid the vain outcries</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of fools that deem me holy, full of grace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And skillful in foresaying prophecies?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou wouldst not know me in this wrinkled guise—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How couldst thou, O belovèd? I am she</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou knewest those mad years in Galilee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When we were young. And now thy tale is told,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I await death, shivering wretchedly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">They call thee god. Paul, when his choleric face</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Enkindles from his ever-blazing eyes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Swears thou art god, and blusters of a place—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A city that the man calls Paradise,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein thou reignest. Dear, am I not wise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That deem thee worthy of idolatry.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet man,—man whom I loved, and verily</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Man whom I love, for all that I behold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy face no more, beloved, and I be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yet westerly, where golden clouds enlace</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Earth’s rim with heaven’s, kindlier kingdoms rise;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For there the fortunate Far Islands face</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ends of Ocean, and the sacrifice</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Burns ever to Dis’ Queen, and no man sighs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In vain for quietude,—where even we</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May win such grace of grave Persephonê</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As to obliterate woes manifold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In dragging days that fretted sordidly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Man whom I loved, my heart cries out to thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>All that thou wert I loved!</i>—and so, let be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To dream of maids immortal arms enfold,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor rank with Dryopê or Danaë</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="6"> + 6 + <br> + MARCUS AURELIUS: A SUPPRESSED + “MEDITATION” + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>L’impératrice a les beaux yeux</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Bright eyes in truth Faustina hath:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They are colored like that restive path</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which sunset cleaves across the sea;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They are as chill; it well may be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their splendors, also, do but screen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Waste wreckage and coiled, slow, obscene,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vague, ravenous things. It is of this</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I think whenever her lips kiss.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">She is brightly colored and soft and frail;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her beauty like a tinctured veil</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hides and divides her heart from me.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Nor would I vex your secrecy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grave eyes, that screen her unguessed heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein I ask not any part;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It is enough that ye are bright.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I praise you; and am expedite</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Once more to touch Faustina’s hair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Caressingly, one instant, where</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her face lifts now, and shows how fair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That body is which Parcæ planned,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fashioned fitly, to command</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such love as all men understand.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Grant her unfaithful, and wherein</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Am I less favored by Faustine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than were her heart all faithfulness?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Fools in their folly face distress;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But wisdom muffles wisdom’s sight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And looks for naught more recondite</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In any woman’s grace than this—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fair flesh, bright hair, and lips that kiss</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So winsomely that thereupon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Man’s wisdom wins oblivion,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And right and reason, swooning, seem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Faint figments of a fool’s fond dream.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="7"> + 7 + <br> + AMAIMON VISITS THE THEBAID + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Quam luna adest video nocte illusiones dæmonum</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Alessandro de Medici.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Each night at moonrise is let forth from hell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a fair woman’s shape—yea, I know well</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How fair it is!—Amaimon; and thus stands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A darkling shade against stilled seas of sands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Made wonderful with moonlight; and speaks not.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">What need?—Amaimon knows I have forgot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No one of those soft curves Amaimon wears.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">So have I need of penance and long prayers:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because since ever time began to be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No woman, living, was lovelier than she,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor statelier,—yea, buoyant with that power</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her beauty loaned, she moved as moves a flower,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mire-rooted, nodding by a pool wherein</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its double drowns, and dancing when its twin</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Struggles in wind-stirred waters.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent29">Nay, most sweet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of women, I serve that Man whose tortured feet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spurned Zeus from heaven, and for human sake</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trod evil down, even as folk tread a snake</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And end all, once for all; by night and day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My prayers assail the ears of God, nor stay</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For any bodily weakness till I gain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Surety of pardon through my body’s pain.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Hath God not pardoned me? Men tell of them</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That bent with sickness touched my cassock’s hem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And straight were hale. They tell how these poor hands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Raised dead folk even. Throughout distant lands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My fame is spread, where emperors quake to tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their harlots of some recent miracle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which I—nay, which High God performed through me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That God’s sole glory be proclaimed, and be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A scourge to scoffers.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent20">So, being fain to die,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I bide that day when High God lifts on high</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My soul, and sets me with His cherubim,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Remembering how I have striven for Him</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And smitten heresy—yea, with sword and flame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Laid waste how many homes!—in His dear name,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose wrath is quenchless.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent26">It is well with me:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O woman the fiend mimics, how is it with thee?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">—With thee, enswirled in some unending sweep</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of ageless flame, whose fires forever leap</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like adders round the damned their coils consume</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not ever, nor relinquish! These illume</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bright tender bodies, such as Cæsar kissed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But yesterday, and now long torments twist....</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ey, what a host of women howl in hell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who were when they wore flesh so lovable,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And whom men loved as I—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent28">But thou art dead,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rotted, and damned, long since.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent30">When I am sped</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To heaven’s loftiest courts, and thereamong</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Made free of heaven, how shall I force my tongue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To honor Him that damned thee? and how be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Content with heaven? What, through eternity</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hear thy voice—thine, my lost love, loved in vain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lost, lost, lost, with only heaven to gain!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hear thy voice call in agony to God,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who likewise hears—and heeds not!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent36">Ey, once shod</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With gold and clad in fair white linen cloth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall I then be quite changed? and not be wroth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With God? but be as God is? and never know</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Regret for thee, nor pity for the woe</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of shrieking fire-wrapped folk swept to and fro</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where Satan gibes at them and the worm stings?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Lust, who is overlord of living things;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lust, by the heavings of whose leathery wings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The flames of hell are fanned to signal-fires</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That mark each haven each human heart desires;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lust, who with ceaseless and illusive snares</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Derides our dreams and prompts us in our prayers;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lust, who is strong and patient and cautelous,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And whom fiends name Amaimon in Satan’s house:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Plays thus at dice, our stake being my soul’s bliss.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Nay, God is love</i> (Amaimon whispers this),</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Nor pedant-like peers from far heaven’s vault</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To estimate His children’s least light fault</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>As folk weigh gold, to the last hair-breadth’s worth.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Grant that this woman, living upon earth,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>A little leaned to Marcion’s mad creed,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That High God grieves when unbelievers bleed</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And Holy Church’s servants, or with rod</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Or rack or rope, attest the might of God</i>:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Because a father’s love, pre-eminent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In Him, contrives no curious punishment,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But, even as earthly fathers check a child,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Reproves, and for love’s sake is reconciled”:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Thus runneth Marcion’s foul heresy.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>This woman, then, must burn. It yet may be</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>All need not burn for all eternity;</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And God at last may pardon Donatists,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And Athanasians, and Tritheists—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Ho, even Marcionites!—as lacking wit</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Always to read aright God’s holy writ,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And, therefore, worthier of pity than hate.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>For God is love; and love or soon or late</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Forgives,—yea, even pardons thy dread to see</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In God some burlier counterpart of thee.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Such blasphemies Amaimon whispers me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nightly at moonrise: and I answer not.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">What need?—Amaimon knows I have forgot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No one of those soft curves Amaimon wears.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">So have I need of penance and long prayers.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="8"> + 8 + <br> + DAME VENUS IN THURINGIA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Icy je regne, et je m’assemble tous les hommes</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Théodore Passerat.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Even to the Hörselberg they follow me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These men Thou couldst not save: the hollow hill</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is thronged with them that have abandoned Thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To follow her that yet endures, and will</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Outlive all tenets. Canst Thou ever still</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our revelry, O Christ? or canst Thou stay</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These lips that on my lover’s lips I lay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deriding Thee unpunished? Nay, God wot,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here rest no pilgrims on Thy bloodless way,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We have no ending to our revelry;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of lust and drunkenness we have our fill:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hast the uplands, and the sun-bathed sea—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My mother sea!—is subject to Thy will,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Poor foolish Christ, that hadst not wit to kill</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her whom Thou hadst discrowned. I may not stray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Amid the fields of Paphos, and men pray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No more to me in Eryx; yet no jot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of lust’s old worship dwindles, even to-day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Wilt Thou not slay me for much blasphemy?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Strike and have done! Whom kindlier shouldst Thou kill</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than one begotten of the restive sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus penned, and turned a potent poison till</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Man’s folly fail him?—I with futile skill</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Snare ceaselessly; and never see the day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Smite huddling golden waves; nor feel the spray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Make glad my lips. My godhood is forgot.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I tread a hill more drear than Golgotha,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Christ, curse me not with immortality!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I once was Aphroditê; must I be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A thing unclean, and unto fools allot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All fools may crave, even for eternity,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where in the Hörselberg we know Thee not?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="II"> + II + <br> + EPISTROPHIA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Pour son amour eut cest essoyne</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="9"> + 9 + <br> + ONE END OF LOVE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Yolande dit, en soupirant</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>It is long since we met</i>,—she said.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I answered,—<i>Yes.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent20">She is not fair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But very old now, and no gold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gleams in that scant gray withered hair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where once much gold was: and, I think.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not easily might one bring tears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into her eyes, which have become</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like dusty glass.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18"><i>’Tis thirty years</i>,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I said.—<i>And then the war came on</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Apace, and our young King had need</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Of men to serve him oversea</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Against the heathen. For their greed,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Puffed up at Tunis, troubles him</i>—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">She said:—<i>This week my son is gone</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To him at Paris with his men.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">And then:—<i>You never married, John?</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I answered,—<i>No.</i> And so we sate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Musing a while.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent16">Then with his guests</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came Robert; and his thin voice broke</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon my dream, with the old jests,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No food for laughter now; and swore</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We must be friends now that our feud</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was overpast.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent14"><i>We are grown old,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Eh, John?</i>—he said. <i>And, by the Rood!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>’Tis time we were at peace with God</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Who are not long for this world.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent34">—<i>Yea</i>,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I answered;—<i>we are old.</i> And then,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Remembering that April day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At Calais, and that hawthorn field</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein we fought long since, I said:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>We are friends now.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent22">And she sate by,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scarce heeding. Thus the evening sped.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And we ride homeward now, and I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ride moodily: my palfrey jogs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Along a rock-strewn way the moon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lights up for us; yonder the bogs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are curdled with thin ice; the trees</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are naked; from the barren wold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The wind comes like a blade aslant</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Across a world grown very old.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="10"> + 10 + <br> + VILLON QUITS FRANCE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Demain tous nous mourrons; c’est juste notre affaire</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Théodore Passerat.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We hang to-morrow, then? That doom is fit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For most of us, I think. Yet, harkee, friend,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I have a ballad here which I have writ</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of us and our high ending. Pray you, send</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The scrawl to Cayeux, bidding him commend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">François to grace. Old Colin loves me well,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For no good reason, save it so befell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We two were young together.... When I am hung,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Colin will weep—and then will laugh, and tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How many pranks we played when we were young.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Dear lads of yesterday!... We had not wit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To live always so we might not offend,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet—how we laughed! I marvel now at it,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because that merry company will spend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No more mad nights together. Some are penned</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In abbeys, some in dungeons, others fell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In battle.... Time assesses death’s <i>gabelle</i>,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Salt must be taxed, eh?—well, we ranked among</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The salt of earth, once, who are old and tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How many pranks we played when we were young.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Afraid to die, you ask?—Why, not a whit.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah, no! whole-heartedly I mean to wend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of a world I have found exquisite</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By every testing. For I apprehend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life was not made all lovely to the end</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That life ensnare us, nor the miracle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of youth devised but as a trap to swell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Old Legion’s legions; and must give full tongue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To praise no less than prayer, when bidden tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How many pranks we played when we were young.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Nay, cheerily we of the Cockle-shell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And all whose youth was nor to stay nor quell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Will dare foregather when earth’s knell is rung,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Calvary’s young conqueror bids us tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How many pranks we played when we were young.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="11"> + 11 + <br> + INVOCATION: TO THE DARK VENUS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Audite litaniam, quam dulce in noctibus quondam</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —? <span class="smcap">Archilochus of Sicyon.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Hearken and heed, Melænis!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For all that the litany ceased</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When time had pilfered the victim,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And flouted thy pale-lipped priest,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And set astir in the temple</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where burned the fires of thy shrine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The owls and wolves of the desert—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet hearken, (<i>the issue is thine!</i>)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And let the heart of Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At last, at last, be mine!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For I have followed, nor faltered—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Adrift in a land of dreams</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where laughter and pity and terror</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Commingle as confluent streams,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I have seen and adored the Sidonian,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Implacable, fair and divine,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And bending low, have implored thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To hearken, (<i>the issue is thine!</i>)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And let the heart of Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At last, at last, be mine!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">There are taller lads than Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And many are wiser than he,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How should I heed them?—whose fate is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ever to serve and to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ever the lover of Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And die that Atys may dine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Live if he need me—Then heed me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And speed me, (<i>the moment is thine!</i>)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And let the heart of Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At last, at last, be mine!</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">HIC TONAT: DEA ADEST</span></div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Fair is the form unbeholden,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And golden the glory of thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose voice is the voice of a vision,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose face is the foam of the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the fall of whose feet is the flutter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of breezes in birches and pine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When thou drawest near me, to hear me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cheer me, (<i>the moment is thine!</i>)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And let the heart of Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At last, at last, be mine!</div> + </div> +<hr class="tb"> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Long I besought thee, nor vainly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Daughter of Water and Air,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Charis! Idalia! Hortensis!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast thou not heard the prayer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the blood stood still with loving,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the blood in me leapt like wine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I cried on thy name, Melænis?—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That heard me, (<i>the glory is thine!</i>)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And let the heart of Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At last, at last, be mine!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Falsely they tell of thy dying,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou that art older than death;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And never the Hörselberg hid thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whatever the slanderer saith;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the stars are as heralds forerunning.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When laughter and love combine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At twilight, in thy light, Melænis—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That heard me, (<i>the glory is thine!</i>)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And let the heart of Atys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At last, at last, be mine!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="12"> + 12 + <br> + RONSARD RE-VOICES A TRUISM + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Quand vous seres bien vieille, et quand je serais mort</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Théodore Passerat.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">When you are very old, and I am gone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not to return, it may be you will say—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hearing my name and holding me as one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Long dead to you,—in some half-jesting way</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of speech, sweet as vague heraldings of May</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rumored in woods when first the throstles sing:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>He loved me once.</i> And straightway murmuring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My half-forgotten rhymes, you will regret</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Evanished times when I was wont to sing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So very lightly, <i>Love runs into debt.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I shall not heed you then. My course being run</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For good or ill, I shall have gone my way,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And know you, love, no longer,—nor the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Perchance, nor any light of earthly day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor any joy nor sorrow,—while at play</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The world speeds merrily, nor reckoning</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our coming or our going. Lips will cling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forswear, and be forsaken, and men forget</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where once our tombs were, and our children sing—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So very lightly!—<i>Love runs into debt.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">If in the grave love have dominion</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Will that wild cry not quicken the wise clay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And taunt with memories of fond deeds undone—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some joy untasted, some lost holiday,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All death’s large wisdom? Will that wisdom lay</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ghost of any sweet familiar thing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come haggard from the Past, or ever bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forgetfulness of those two lovers met</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When all was April?—nor too wise to sing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So very lightly, <i>Love runs into debt!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yea, though the years of vain remembering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Draw nigh, and age be drear, yet in the spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We meet and kiss, whatever hour be set</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein all hours attain to harvesting,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So very lightly Love runs into debt.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="13"> + 13 + <br> + JAUNTS FROM STRATFORD + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +—<span class="smcap">“Loin de Stratford”: Paul Verville.</span> +</p> + + +<h3> +<span class="allsmcap">III—IN VERONA</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Il m’étonne de voir que le vieux Capulet</i>” +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I had not thought the house of Capulet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Might boast a daughter of such colorful grace</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As this whole-hearted girl, with flower-soft face</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Round which the glory of her hair is set</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like some great golden halo;—and, as yet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love is to her a word that, spoken, spurs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wonder alone, since love administers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In nothing to the mirth of Juliet.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">What if some day I woke this heart unharried</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As yet by love, and won these lips more red</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than rain-tossed cherries?—<i>Look, the dancers go.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>What’s he that would not dance? If he be married</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>My grave is like to be my wedding-bed.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">—God rest you, sweet! the knave is Romeo.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3><span class="allsmcap">XII—IN TROY</span></h3> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Le Scamandre engourdi, qui la lune illumine</i>” +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Stagnant Scamander, which the moon—a slight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Frail-seeming crescent toiling through gaunt trees</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mid stars that follow her like golden bees,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Makes glittering; beyond its marge a white</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Glitter of tossed bleached bones where camp-dogs fight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For offal, and a glitter of panoplies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where sentinels prowl; and partly shrouding these,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thin fever-breeding mists and dubious night.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And one clear song—fond, as all love-songs be—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From Troilus’ fevered lips that give fond vent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To love and wonder and idolatry,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Snapped short; and mutterings of thunder, blent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With cries of mourners, and the garrulous glee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of Cressida in Diomedes’ tent.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="14"> + 14 + <br> + INVITATION TO THE VOYAGE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Quand le poëte d’Angleterre disait que ce monde</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Paul Verville.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>The world’s a stage?</i>—Well, faith! it may have seemed so</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In days less bleak, when Arden’s brakes were green,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Rosalind’s low insolent fond laughter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Woke mirth to charm that planet which to-day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seems all one vast decorous hospital,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Germless, immaculate, well-ventilated,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whitewashed, and odorful with antiseptics.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And we that toss upon the softest beds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While yet our fever lasts, are impotent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beneath this dreary burden of right angles</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And blank white walls. And so, we twist, and murmur,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And groan, and twitch the coverlets awry,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which Mrs. Grundy, head-nurse of our ward,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pats straight again, in curtseying to the doctor.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Lean Dr. Death, who never lost a case,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Comes thus; and daily pauses by one’s bed;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fingers the pulse; declares the fever abating;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Writes a prescription for the apothecary,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Old Time; then cuts a jest or so,—departing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With dubious promises of one’s discharge</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Next year, next month, next week, may be.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent40">Ha, neighbor,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Slim pale-haired woman with opal-colored eyes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why bide his pleasure? Nay, let us steal out</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Together, and—blithe mariners faring forth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On chartless seas,—seek out a vessel bound</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For some politer port, made point-device</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By Fragonard, Watteau, or whom you will</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So the contriver of this hospital</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be not the architect.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent20">Oh, dimly gleams</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our haven; for its ways are vaporous</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With smouldering incense, mid whose loitering spirals</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Frail cupids weave, eternally, long garlands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of ribbons and pale roses,—weave unvexed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By any garish sunlight, since one star</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alone peeps out of heaven. See, the moon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shows like a silver sickle to the west,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But casts no shadows yet; and twilight dims</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All glow of color where resistless gallants,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sleek abbés, and false subtle lovely women</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pass to the sound of tinkling mandolines</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hushed contralto laughter.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent32">We will make</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rondeaux of life and triolets of death;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And be at peace; and never laugh aloud;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And grieve not though he mar those stately hedges</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherethrough he leers—gaunt sensual Pierrot!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To note the ankles of young Columbine.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yes, we will smile to see her pirouette</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With Harlequin in shadowed avenues,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yew-shadowed statue-haunted avenues,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where pensive gods incuriously remember</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Put-off omnipotence,—with Harlequin</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While tricked Pierrot sings at her father’s window....</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Smile, it may be, but never laugh aloud.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And in the autumn Columbine will die,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Harlequin be sad a whole half-hour.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But Pierrot’s heart will break; and he will grieve</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That so much earth lies heavily on her</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who trod the earth so lightly!—and will weep</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Big facile tears, and babble to the moon.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Will you not go?—Then come. Give me your hand,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That firm small slender hand. Tread quietly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For Mrs. Grundy nods now, who will wake</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Full-cry when all our fellow-patients chatter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And drone and bustle like fat surfeited flies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Round our dead reputations.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent26">Let us go.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="15"> + 15 + <br> + STORY OF THE FLOWERY KINGDOM + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>La belle Sou-Chong-Thé, au clair de pleine lune</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Paul Verville.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Fair Sou-Chong-Tee, by a shimmering brook</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where ghost-like lilies loomed tall and straight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Met young Too-Hi, in a moonlit nook,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where they cooed and kissed till the hour was late:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then, with lanterns, a mandarin passed in state,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Named Hoo-Hung-Hoo of the Golden Band,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who had wooed the maiden to be <i>his</i> mate,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For these things occur in the Flowery Land.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Now, Hoo-Hung-Hoo had written a book,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In seven volumes, to celebrate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The death of the Emperor’s thirteenth cook:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So, being a person whose power was great,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He ordered a herald to indicate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He would blind Too-Hi with a red-hot brand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And marry Sou-Chong at a quarter-past-eight,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For these things occur in the Flowery Land.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Whilst the brand was heating, the lovers shook</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In their several shoes,—when by lucky fate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A Dragon came, with his tail in a crook,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A Dragon out of a Nankeen Plate,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gobbled the hard-hearted potentate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And all of his servants, and snorted, <i>and</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">Passed on at a super-cyclonic rate,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For these things occur in the Flowery Land.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The lovers were wed at an early date,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lived for the future, I understand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In one continuous tête-à-tête,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For these things occur ... in the Flowery Land.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="16"> + 16 + <br> + THE HOIDENS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Au point du premier jour, dans l’enfance du tout</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">When the Morning broke before us</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came the wayward Three astraying,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Chattering in babbling chorus,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">(Obloquies of Æther saying),—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hoidens that, at pegtop playing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flung their Top where yet it whirls</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the coil of clouds unstaying;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the Fates are captious girls.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10"><span class="allsmcap">CLOTHO</span></div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Why, upon that Toy before us</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Insects cluster! Hear them saying,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In the quaintest shrillest chorus</i>:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Life affords no time for playing!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And for each that goes astraying,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Featly as a planet whirls</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drops the stroke of doom unstaying,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the Fates are captious girls.’</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10"><span class="allsmcap">LACHESIS</span></div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>La, I thought it reeled before us</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Tumbling, lurching, stumbling, straying,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In some sort of mumbling chorus!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Now I see them at their playing—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>I too see,—and hear them saying</i>:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Note with what fixed aim life whirls</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Onward to set goals unstaying,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the Fates are captious girls.’</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10"><span class="allsmcap">ATROPOS</span></div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Sisters, I am tired of straying.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Catch the Toy while yet it whirls!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Cleanse the Toy, and end our playing!</i></div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">—For the Fates are captious girls.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="III"> + III + <br> + LIBITINA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Mort, j’appelle de ta rigueur</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="17"> + 17 + <br> + ACCORDING TO THEIR FOLLY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Ce que vous faites-là n’importe pas</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Charles Garnier.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Ye that made merry through mirthless ages,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And jeered in the thick of the knights’ mêlée,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And derided all wrangles of sophists and sages,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And toasted your toes round an auto-da-fé,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do ye grieve, in your coffins, now worms assay</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That motley logic of quip and pun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And elvish laughter?—or still do ye say,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Whatever ye do there matters to none</i>?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Chuckling and shrugging, ye clutched such wages</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As life allotted; then went your way</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into the dark, where no conflict rages,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No wrangles follow, no cruelties stray.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">—<span class="smcap">Le Glorieux</span>, <span class="smcap">Armstrong</span>, <span class="smcap">Patch</span>, <span class="smcap">Brusquet</span>,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And <span class="smcap">Sommers</span>! rest ye, for jesting is done,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ye need not joke now as yesterday,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For whatever ye do there matters to none.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And a dream that he found in his tomb assuages</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The brutish sorrows of <span class="smcap">Triboulet</span>;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And <span class="smcap">Dagonet</span> sleeps, and no more engages</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To follow his master in any fray;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And <span class="smcap">Chicot</span>, too, makes his bed of clay—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whither wins never the Gascon sun,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where baubles and sceptres alike decay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And whatever ye do there matters to none.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">My prince! it is better to quote than obey</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The precepts of Solon and Solomon;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet the world they admonished is larger than they,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And whatever ye do there matters to none.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="18"> + 18 + <br> + FOOT-NOTES FOR IDYLS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Le Sicilien chantait—mais c’est, ma foy, bien drôle</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Théodore Passerat.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>’Mongst all immortals tardiest is their tread!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Dear and desired, they tread with dainty feet,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>By whose dear advent all are comforted</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>’Mongst mortal men!</i> Thus, thus, thy verses greet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Coming Hours—those Hours that from the heat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And mirth and friendly girls of Sicily,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unheeding, haled thee to hell’s minstrels’-seat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To edify austere Persephonê.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>The living may forget; only the dead</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Are hopeless!</i> sang blithe Corydon, where beat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bright waves upon bright sands, and overhead</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pines murmured benisons. Now is it sweet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To rhyme of this in thy less glad retreat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Theocritus</span>, who badest that song be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Immortal? and dost thou find that song meet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To edify austere Persephonê?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Now all old hours and all old years are sped</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What profits it with thee if men repeat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or all or anything thy live lips said?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hast forgot Bombyca’s <i>ivory feet</i>,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The shrill cicalæ’s chirp, the lambkins’ bleat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Lacon’s <i>honied song on Helykê</i>.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What profits thee the honied sound of it</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To edify austere Persephonê?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Lord of glad songs, for us the winding-sheet.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For thee the funeral pyre—<i>built near the sea</i>,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bids singing cease, and songless lips compete</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To edify austere Persephonê.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="19"> + 19 + <br> + THE GOD-FATHER + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Primus in orbe deos fecit timor; ardua cœlo</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Petronius Arbiter.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Always was fear the god’s ambassador,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Since first in traverse of high-tumbling seas</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Man quailed and out of thunderings made Thor;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or mid the desert’s dumb infinities</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He shuddered, dreaming of Tanit and the Sphinx;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or noting life’s large cruelty, surmised</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Plethoric Zeus, with twinkling eyes that roam</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alcmena-ward.—Still as man fears, man thinks;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And presently each dread is canonized,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And duly terror is wheedled and exorcised,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And given his priest, and shrine, and hecatomb.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Fearing, we loathe, and to the thing abhorred</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bow down; and terror and fancy beget a god</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A while evaded, and a while adored,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And afterward bemocked. As with a rod</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Time smote the lords of Nineveh and Khem,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And raised the dreams which Hellas deemed divine;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As presently the grosser gods of Rome</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned ghost, and Saturn’s pilfered diadem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rolled at Christ’s bleeding feet.—What praise was thine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That art most feared of all? what gilded shrine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cajoling priest, and steaming hecatomb?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Scant need to wheedle Death! men said. Our life,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With all the pain and passion of the whole,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With all the toil, the sorrow and the strife,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is but a passing onward to the goal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where Death awaits us. Mid his votaries</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our birth-cry ranked us; nor may any art</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Avail to save us, while the years consume</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As ashes smoulder when their fervor dies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Insensibly; and he that lies apart</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In darkness hears the pulsing of Death’s heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And knows that Death waits near him in the gloom.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Yea, of all gods thou only lovest not gifts!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">Others we placate; or in smiting we</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Evade them. When thou smitest with what shifts</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May we evade thee? or how placate thee?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou wilt not hearken to any prayer of ours;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou biddest emperors and popes as well</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As witless clowns, <i>Be still and bide thy fate!</i>—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose altar we have wreathed with fitting flowers—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With purple lupine, crumpled poppy-bell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ambiguous mandrake, and pale asphodel,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Since praise thee or blame thee, thou art obdurate.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And nor to wheedle thee, nor to demand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Favor of thee or any pity of thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We come. Beneath a lifted sword we stand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And praise thee, knowing, whatever gods may be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy altar is not shaken: though the creeds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And outworn faiths of dreaming seer and priest</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Endure as sinister shadows, or endure</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As marsh-fires glittering round a path that leads</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nowhither; and the night be, and the east</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sleep, and the sun not waken;—yet at least,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though all things else be doubtful, death is sure.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We praise thee, knowing how vainly fancy spans</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With timorous dreams the grave’s unplumbed abyss.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vainly we famed the calm Olympians,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And vainly Ammon-Ra, and Artemis,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Neith, and Krishna. Comfort we have had</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of kindlier lords whose fabled potency</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With shadows decked the darkness lest the dread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of darkness absolute should drive us mad,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But Time discrowns them. Time endures. But he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Discrowns thee never, and endures by thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Endured, against that time when Time be dead.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="20"> + 20 + <br> + BALLAD OF THE DESTROYER + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Ainsi nous applaudons la mort, la mort qui vient</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We laud him thus, that comes unto the king,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lightly plucks him from the cushioned throne;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And drowns his glory and his warfaring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In unrecorded dim oblivion;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And girds another with the sword thereof;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sets another in his stead to reign;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ousts the remnant, nakedly to gain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Styx’ formless shore and nakedly complain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Midst twittering ghosts lamenting life and love.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For Death is merciless: a crack-brained king</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He raises in the place of Prester John,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Smites Priam, and mid-course in conquering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bids Cæsar pause; the wit of Solomon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The wealth of Nero and the pride thereof,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And battle-prowess—or of Tamburlaine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Darius, Jeshua, or Charlemaigne,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wheedle and bribe and surfeit Death in vain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And get no grace of him nor any love.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Incuriously he smites the armored king</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And tricks his counsellors;—as, later on,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death will, half-idly, still our pleasuring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And change for fevered laughter in the sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sleep such as Merlin’s,—and excess thereof,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whence we, divorceless Death our Viviaine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Implacable, may never more regain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The unforgotten rapture, and the pain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And grief and ecstasy of life and love.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For, presently, as quiet as the king</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sleeps now that planned the keeps of Ilion,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We, too, will sleep, whilst overhead the spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rules, and young lovers laugh—as we have done,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And kiss—as we, that take no heed thereof,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But slumber very soundly, and disdain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The world-wide heralding of winter’s wane</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And swift sweet ripple of the April rain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Running about the world to waken love.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We shall have done with love, and Death be king</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And turn our nimble bodies carrion,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our red lips dusty;—yet our live lips cling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Despite that age-long severance, and are one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Despite the grave and the vain grief thereof,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which we will baffle, if in Death’s domain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fond memories may enter, and we twain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May dream a little, and rehearse again</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In that unending sleep our present love.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Speed forth to her in halting unison,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My rhymes; and say no hindrance may restrain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love from his aim when Love is bent thereon;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that were love at my disposal lain—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All mine to take!—and Death had said, <i>Refrain,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Lest I, even I, exact the cost thereof</i>,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I know that even as the weather-vane</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Follows the wind so would I follow Love.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="21"> + 21 + <br> + EXHORTATION TOWARD ALMSGIVING + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Faulse beaulté, qui tant me couste cher</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">François Villon.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Beauty of her, whereby I am undone!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O Grace of her, that hath no grace for me!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O Love of her, the bit that guides me on</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To sorrow and to grievous misery!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O felon Charms, my poor heart’s enemy!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O furtive murderous Pride! O pitiless, great,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cold Eyes of her! have done with cruelty!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have pity upon me ere it be too late!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Happier for me if elsewhere I had gone</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For pity,—ah, far happier for me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Since never of her may any grace be won,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lest dishonor slay me, I must flee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Haro!</i> I cry, (and cry how uselessly!)</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Haro!</i> I cry to folk of all estate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For I must die unless it chance that she</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have pity upon me ere it be too late.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">M’amye, that day in whose disastrous sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your beauty’s flower must fade and wane and be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No longer beautiful, draws near,—whereon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I will nor plead nor mock;—not I, for we</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall both be old and vigorless! M’amye,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drink deep of love, drink deep, nor hesitate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until the spring run dry, but speedily</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have pity upon me—ere it be too late!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Lord Love, that all love’s lordship hast in fee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lighten, ah, lighten thy displeasure’s weight.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For all true hearts should, of Christ’s charity,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have pity upon me ere it be too late.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="22"> + 22 + <br> + COMFORT FOR CENTENARIANS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +—After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Marvel not if my words are bold;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though the sound be rude, yet the sense is true:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Too long you have flouted a tale oft-told</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By the stammering tongues of men that woo,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And woo you vainly. Your brain is askew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For pride in your body’s magnificence,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And its color and curving so fair to view;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And what will it matter a hundred years hence?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My burden, I grant you, is blunt and old:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet time will sharpen its sting when you—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even you yourself!—and the things you hold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At so dear a price are a bone or two;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And those wonderful eyes, whose heaven-like blue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is the crown of your beauty’s excellence,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are unsavory holes that a worm crawls through;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And what will it matter a hundred years hence?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Encrusted and tainted with churchyard mould,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your dear perfections must lie perdue;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Take on such favor as few behold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With liking, and certainly none pursue;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And your beauty be reft of all revenue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And suffer the blind worm’s insolence,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who recks not at all of height, hair and hue,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And what will it matter a hundred years hence?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Ettarre</span>, I proffer my love anew,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And life with a jest at the world’s expense;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And if for your favor I vainly sue—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why, what will it matter a hundred years hence?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="23"> + 23 + <br> + THE CONQUEROR PASSES + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Non dormatz plus! les messatges de douz pascor</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Awaken! for the servitors of Spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proclaim his triumph! ah, make haste to see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With what tempestuous pageantry they bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The victor homeward! haste, for this is he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That cast out Winter, and all woes that cling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To Winter’s garments, and bade April be!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And now that Spring is master, let us be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Content, and laugh as anciently in spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The battle-wearied Tristran laughed, when he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was come again Tintagel-ward, to bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Glad news of Arthur’s victory—and see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ysoude, with parted lips, that waver and cling.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Not yet in Brittany must Tristran cling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To this or that sad memory, and be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alone, as she in Cornwall; for in spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love sows against far harvestings,—and he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is blind, and scatters baleful seed that bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such fruitage as blind Love lacks eyes to see.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Love sows, but lovers reap: and ye will see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The loved eyes lighten, feel the loved lips cling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Never again when in the grave ye be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Incurious of your happiness in spring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And get no grace of Love there, whither he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That bartered life for love no love may bring.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">No braggart Heracles avails to bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alcestis hence; nor here may Roland see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The eyes of Aude; nor here the wakening spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vex any man with memories: for there be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No memories that cling as cerements cling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No force that baffles Death, more strong than he.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Us hath he noted, and for us hath he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An hour appointed; and that hour will bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oblivion.—Then laugh! Laugh, dear, and see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The tyrant mocked, while yet our bosoms cling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While yet our lips obey us, and we be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Untrammeled in our little hour of spring!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus in the spring we jeer at Death, though he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Will see our children perish, and will bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Asunder all that cling while love may be.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="24"> + 24 + <br> + THE MENDICANTS + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Domna, de totz bos aips complida</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Madam Destiny, omnipotent,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be not too obdurate to us who pray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That this our transient grant of youth be spent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In laughter as befits a holiday,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From which the evening summons us away,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From which to-morrow wakens us to strife</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And toil and grief and wisdom,—and to-day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grudge us not life!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Madam Destiny, omnipotent,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why need our elders trouble us at play?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We know that very soon we shall repent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The idle follies of our holiday.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And being old, shall be as wise as they:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But now we are not wise, and lute and fife</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Plead sweetlier than axioms,—so to-day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grudge us not life!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Madam Destiny, omnipotent,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You have given us youth—and must we cast away</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The cup undrained and our one coin unspent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because our elders’ beards and hearts are gray?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They have forgotten that if we delay</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death claps us on the shoulder, and with knife</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or cord or fever, flouts the prayer we pray—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Grudge us not life</i>!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Madam, recall that in the sun we play</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But for an hour, then have the worm for wife,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The tomb for habitation,—and to-day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grudge us not life!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="IV"> + IV + <br> + HORTENSIS + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Dedans le boys je m’en allay</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="25"> + 25 + <br> + ALONE IN APRIL + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>In un boschetto trovai pastorella</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —? <span class="smcap">Guerzo di Montecanti.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Rustling leaves of the willow-tree</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Peering downward at you and me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And no man else in the world to see.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Only the birds, whose dusty coats</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Show dark in the green—whose throbbing throats</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turn joy to music and love to notes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Lean your body against the tree,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lifting your red lips up to me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ettarre, and kiss, with no man to see!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And let us laugh for a little.—Yea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let love and laughter herald the day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When laughter and love will be put away.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Then you will remember the willow-tree</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And this very hour, and remember me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ettarre,—whose face you will no more see!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">So swift, so swift the glad time goes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Eld and Death with their countless woes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Draw near, and the end thereof no man knows.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Lean your body against the tree,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lifting your red lips up to me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ettarre, and kiss, with no man to see!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="26"> + 26 + <br> + “—BUT WISDOM IS JUSTIFIED OF HER CHILDREN” + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Oramai quando flore</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Alessandro de Medici.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Phyllida, spring wakes about us—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wakes to mock at us and flout us</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That so coldly do delay:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the very birds are mating,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pray you, why should we be waiting—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We that might be wed to-day?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Life is brief</i>, the wise men tell us;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even those dusty, musty fellows</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That have done with life,—and pass</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where the wraith of Aristotle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hankers, vainly, for a bottle,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Youth and some frank Grecian lass.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Ah, I warrant you;—and Zeno</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Would not reason, now, could he know</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One more chance to live and love:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For, at best, the merry May-time</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is a very fleeting playtime;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why, then, waste an hour thereof?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Plato, Solon, Periander,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seneca, Anaximander,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pyrrho, and Parmenides!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were one hour alone remaining</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Would ye spend it in attaining</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Learning, or to lips like these?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus, I demonstrate by reason</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now is our predestined season</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the garnering of all bliss;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prudence is but long-faced folly;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cry a fig for melancholy!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seal the bargain with a kiss.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="27"> + 27 + <br> + THE LOVERS’ DOXOLOGY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>O voi che per la via d’amor passate</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Alessandro de Medici.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Listen, all lovers! the spring is here,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the world is not amiss;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As long as laughter is good to hear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lips are good to kiss,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As long as Youth and Spring endure,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is never an evil past a cure,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the world is never amiss.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">O lovers all, I bid ye declare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The world is a pleasant place;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Give thanks to God for the gift so fair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Give thanks for His singular grace!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Give thanks for Youth and Love and Spring!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Give thanks, as gentlefolk should, and sing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The world is a pleasant place</i>!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="28"> + 28 + <br> + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Be m play lo dous temp de pascor</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Now I loiter, and dream to the branches’ swaying</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In furtive conference,—high overhead,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A-tingle with rumors that Winter is sped</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And over his ruins a world goes maying.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Somewhere—impressively,—people are saying</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Intelligent things (which their grandmothers said),</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While I loiter, and dream to the branches’ swaying</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In furtive conference, high overhead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Here the hand of April, unwashed from slaying</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Earth’s fallen tyrant—for Winter is dead,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Uncloses anemones, staining them red;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And her daffodils guard me, in squads,—displaying</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Intrepid lances lest wisdom tread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where I loiter and dream to the branches’ swaying.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="29"> + 29 + <br> + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY-FIVE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Quant erba vertz e fuelha par</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">April wakes, and the gifts are good</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which April grants in this lonely wood,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mid the wistful sounds of a solitude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose immemorial murmuring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is the voice of Spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And murmurs the burden of burgeoning.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">April wakes, and her heart is high,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the Bassarids and the Fauns are nigh,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And prosperous leaves lisp busily</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Over fluttered brakes, whence the breezes bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vext twittering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To swell the burden of burgeoning.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">April wakes, and afield, astray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She calls to whom at the end I say,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Heart o’ My Heart, I am thine alway</i>,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I follow, follow her carolling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For I hear her sing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Above the burden of burgeoning.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">April wakes;—it were good to live</div> + <div class="verse indent0">(<i>Yet April passes</i>), though April give</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No other gift for our pleasuring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than the old, old burden of burgeoning.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="30"> + 30 + <br> + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT TWENTY-EIGHT + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Era m requier sa custum’e son us pascor</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">May shows with godlike showing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To-day for each that sees</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May’s magic overthrowing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All musty memories</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In him whom May decrees</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To be love’s own. He saith,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>I wear love’s liveries</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Until released by death</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus all we laud May’s sowing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor heed how harvests please</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When nowhere grain worth growing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Greets autumn’s questing breeze,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And garnerers garner these—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vain words and wasted breath</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And spilth and tasteless lees,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until released by death.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Unwillingly foreknowing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That love with May-time flees,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We take this day’s bestowing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And feed on fantasies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such as love lends for ease</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where none but travaileth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With lean infrequent fees,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until released by death.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="31"> + 31 + <br> + OF ANNUAL MAGIC: AT THIRTY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Ai! chant d’ouzel comensa sa sazos</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Now May awakes, and spring comes back;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now green fire creeps from tree to tree,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And he that travels need not lack</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sight of an anemone</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twixt one sea and another sea;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now blithe birds build, and wan hearts quicken,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oblivious of dreams that sicken</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drear ice-engirdled reverie.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Now I in part forget ... recall</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In part ... how yonder throstle’s call</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Inveigles whither mirth is,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because so many lips have told</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The tale I told, once, who am old,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">However young the earth is.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="32"> + 32 + <br> + THE DOTARD CONJURER + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Le Printemps est devenu comme un sorcier faible</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Paul Verville.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Spring is become a dotard conjurer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And his old magic works not any more!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No more avails the whisper of friendly leaves;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now the forest is undenizened</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of daydreams, which, like elfin outlaws, once</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lay hid in wait for every passer-by</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pilfered all his sorrows; dawn abates</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In wonder and tells flatly, <i>It is day</i>,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And tells no more than that now; and the night</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brews no more philtres; and the moon forgets</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That ancient wizardry which once was hers.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Ah, the old magic works not any more,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though I have known its potency. Perchance,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Somewhere a great way off, in Avalon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Atlantis, or the hushed Hesperides,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hearts lighten with the coming in of spring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even as once. Yes, for this thing has been,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And may be yet in far-off Avalon.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For it may be in far-off Avalon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even as once—was it not yesterday?—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All forests are akin to Brocelaunde,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fear and beauty keep their heritage</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And breathe of something hidden in the woods</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Save birds, and trees, and flowers, and ravenous gnats,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For they are haunted by those messengers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That April sends about our woods no more</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On primal errands. But in Avalon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fern-carpeted untroubled Avalon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When April wakes and rises, with wind-blown hair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And steadfast eyes—when at the tip of the world</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun takes heart a little,—then sturdy April</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exults, and summons tricksy ministers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To color and flaunt in low, yet-dreaming fields</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The first flush of the apple-blossoms; and marshal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The stout spears of the daffodils; and guide</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Frail baby clouds about the lonely heavens;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And polish frost-nipped stars; and re-awaken</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Warm gracious land-winds where the restive waters</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shout to the glistening sands and hunger all night</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With impotent desire of the naked moon.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yes; this may be, in far-off Avalon.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Here the old magic works not any more:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Spring, a dotard conjurer, forgets</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The runes and sorceries of yesterday,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And may at best evoke but tenuous visions,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Faint-hearted dreams that people the turbid past</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With half-seen faces and derisive laughter;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And there is nothing hidden in the woods</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Save birds, and trees, and flowers, and ravenous gnats,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, under all, dead and decaying leaves.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Nay, under all, dead and decaying leaves</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Enrich that mould which bred them, and whereby</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The tree is nourished and new leaves put forth.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="V"> + V + <br> + MELÆNIS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>De moy, pauvre, je veuil parler</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="33"> + 33 + <br> + UNCHARTED + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Un beau royaume nous cherchons</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">There is a land those hereabout</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ignore.... Its gates are barred</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By Titan twins, named Fear and Doubt.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These mercifully guard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That land we seek—the land so fair!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And all the fields thereof,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where daffodils flaunt everywhere</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ouzels chant of love,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lest we attain the Middle-Land,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whence clouded well-springs rise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And vipers from a slimy strand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lift glittering cold eyes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">NOW, THE PARABLE ALL MAY UNDERSTAND,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">AND SURELY YOU KNOW THE NAME OF THE LAND!</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">AH, NEVER A GUIDE OR EVER A CHART</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">MAY SAFELY LEAD YOU ABOUT THIS LAND,—</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">THE LAND OF THE HUMAN HEART!</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="34"> + 34 + <br> + SCHOOL-SONG + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Je fais attention aux maîtres</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>I have to heed my teachers,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And try to trust my school,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And yet no less, through awkwardness,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Infringe on every rule.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Dim laws I may not understand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I strive to keep—and break,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Somehow. I see forbidden me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Much that I want—and take</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes,—not meaning to do wrong,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor meaning to deny</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Due weight to rules one ridicules</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Somewhat, yet lives thereby.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">If teachers could but recollect</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lads they used to be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I think that all could half-recall,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Somewhere, someone like me.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">(<i>The lads they were!</i> What looking-glass</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shows me a lad to-day?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With little learned, much half-discerned,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I toil already gray).</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yet honor, ruefully, the rule—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All teachers must be sure</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That each mistake their pupils make</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was never made before:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And honor, tacitly, the rule—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No pupil ever thrives</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who questions <i>Why?</i> of laws whereby</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We lead our ordered lives.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>For we must heed our teachers,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And try to trust our school,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Until they teach the reason each</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Infringes every rule.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="35"> + 35 + <br> + “AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING—” + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Man’s love hath many prompters,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But a woman’s love hath none;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And he may woo a nimble wit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or hair that shames the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whilst she must pick of all one man</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ever brood thereon,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And for no reason,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And not rightly,—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Save that the plan was foreordained</div> + <div class="verse indent0">(More old than Chalcedon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or any tower of Tarshish</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or of gleaming Babylon),</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That she must love unwillingly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And love till life be done,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He for a season,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And more lightly.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="36"> + 36 + <br> + BALLAD OF THE DOUBLE-SOUL + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Les Dieux, qui trop aiment ses facéties cruelles</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Paul Verville.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the beginning the Gods made man, and fashioned the sky and the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the earth’s fair face for man’s dwelling-place; and this was the Gods’ decree:—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Lo, We have given to man five wits: he discerneth folly and sin;</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>He is swift to deride all the world outside, and blind to the world within:</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>So that man may make sport and amuse Us, in battling for phrases or pelf,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Now that each may know what forebodeth woe to his neighbor, and not to himself.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet some have the Gods forgotten,—or is it that subtler mirth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Gods extort of a certain sort of folk that cumber the earth?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">FOR THIS IS THE SONG OF THE DOUBLE-SOUL, DISTORTEDLY TWO IN ONE,——</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">OF THE WEARIED EYES THAT STILL BEHOLD THE FRUIT ERE THE SEED BE SOWN,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">AND DERIVE AFFRIGHT FOR THE NEARING NIGHT FROM THE LIGHT OF THE NOONTIDE SUN.</span></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">For, one that with hope in the morning set forth, and knew never a fear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They have linked with another whom omens bother; and he whispers in one’s ear.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And one is fain to be climbing where only angels have trod,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But is fettered and tied to another’s side who fears that it might look odd.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And one would worship a woman whom all perfections dower,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But the other smiles at transparent wiles; and he quotes from Schopenhauer.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus two by two we wrangle and blunder about the earth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that body we share we may not spare; but the Gods have need of mirth.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">SO THIS IS THE SONG OF THE DOUBLE-SOUL, DISTORTEDLY TWO IN ONE,—</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">OF THE WEARIED EYES THAT STILL BEHOLD THE FRUIT ERE THE SEED BE SOWN,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">AND DERIVE AFFRIGHT FOR THE NEARING NIGHT FROM THE LIGHT OF THE NOONTIDE SUN.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="37"> + 37 + <br> + WHEN TRAVELLERS RETURN + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —A fancy from <span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">There is more in this room than is corporal,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grieved, silent, and striving in nameless ways,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While I read, with my back against the wall,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And nothing happens, and naught betrays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unseen sad eyes that are weighing me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Somehow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">They trouble me, too, although</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By rule and reason this should not be....</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">But a woman died here, years ago,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who loved me much:—and what if the dead</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were doomed to this as their punishment—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That with those whom, living, they loved they tread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forever, and are omniscient?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="38"> + 38 + <br> + ANNALS + </h2> +</div> + + +<h3>I—“<span class="smcap">Quis Desiderio?</span>”</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(May 15th, 1913) +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">There is no room for grief when harvest nears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, labor done, fit wages are received,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No room for grief now that she wins full-sheaved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her harvest, and no need of any tears.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She goes to garner honorable years;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She was a little wearied by long strife,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And still alert, and still in love with life—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As ever—would ascend to her compeers.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">There is no room for grief; as to its nest</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A seabird moves on pinions sure and strong,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her sturdy spirit mounts when sturdiest,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And life ends nobly like a rounded song.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is no room for grief; she is at rest</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To whom rest was a stranger overlong.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II—“<span class="smcap">Sed Risit Midas</span>”</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(1915: Somewhere in the United States) +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Let all I touch be gold!</i> King Midas cried</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of old in Phrygia. Jove heard the prayer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Midas laughed; for gold gleamed everywhere</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His fingers reached; and iron gleamed outside.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Within, no friendly handclasp might abide</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That touch which turned all gold, and made his food</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Chill metal on his lips; chill amplitude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Derided him. So Midas laughed, and died.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">To-day who follows Midas?—<i>Nay, let be</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To whisper of lost friends I knew of old</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>When England gave me life which France made free!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>I trade unbiased; and my guns are sold—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Whoever buys—now all need buy of me,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And all I touch or handle turns to gold!</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>III—“<span class="smcap">Aprilis Gesta</span>”</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(Easter, 1865—Easter, 1915: Richmond, Virginia) +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>A long half-century since when April reigned,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>As now, our cause was lost because unjust—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Else wherefore lost?—when level with the dust</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Fell citadels our fathers’ faith maintained</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Till that old April</i>,—hath the fool ordained.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Imprisoned by his bookshelves; and forgets</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Truth is not lightly slain with bayonets,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or warfare lost whence honor comes unstained.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And April craved her jest ere time began,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So time anew brings April, to deride</div> + <div class="verse indent0">More changeful, strife-drowned Earth, wherein to span</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The surge of war’s inexorable tide</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Attends the wit of a Virginian,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And men acclaim the Christ men crucified.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>IV—“<span class="smcap">Lex Scripta Est</span>”</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(February 14th, 1916) +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Time rounds a twelvemonth since you died,—most dear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And brave of women!—and he thrives as yet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose craven heart found courage to beget</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lie that slew you;—who, with fame made clear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And past his poison, rest till High God hear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our prayer, and smite with godlike plenitude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This lean gray snake, and spill the venom spewed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In vain to guard his lewd blood-brother’s bier.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Not yet—most dear and brave!—may faith foretell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fate’s fixed inevitable hour, nor be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rewarded by its advent, to compel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This liar’s exile from all less vile than he,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And startle in the loneliest nook of hell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Iscariot and Cain with company.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="39"> + 39 + <br> + “—AND EVER SHALL BE” + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Sad hours and glad hours, and all hours, pass over;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One thing unshaken stays:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life, that hath Death for spouse, hath Chance for lover;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whereby decays</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Each thing save one thing:—mid this strife diurnal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of hourly change begot,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love, that is God-born, bides as God eternal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And changes not;—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Nor means a tinseled dream pursuing lovers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Find altered by and by,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When, with possession, time anon discovers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trapped dreams must die,—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For he that visions God, of mankind gathers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One manlike trait alone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And reverently imputes to Him a father’s</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love for his son.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="40"> + 40 + <br> + THE PERFECT REASON + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Le Roy Jésus crucifié</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">King Jesus hung upon the Cross,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And have ye sinned?</i>—quo’ He,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Nay, Dysmas, ’tis no honest loss</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>When Satan cogs the dice ye toss,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And thou shalt sup with Me,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Sedebis apud angelos,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent8"><i>Quia amavisti!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">At Heaven’s Gate was Heaven’s Queen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And have ye sinned?</i>—quo’ She,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And would I hold him worth a bean</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That durst not seek, because unclean,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>My cleansing charity?—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Speak thou, that wast the Magdalene,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent8"><i>Quia amavisti!</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="VI"> + VI + <br> + SCOTEIA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Or il est mort, passé trente ans</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="41"> + 41 + <br> + TWO IN TWILIGHT + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Ave, Maria, que l’amour Divine inspire</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi.</span> +</p> + + +<h3>I—<span class="smcap">Alba</span></h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Ave, Maria! whom Love did move</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To triumph over earthly love.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Mother and Maid, now that wan stars take flight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And larks with song assail high heaven’s height,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unwillingly we lose the kindly night</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That sheltered us when we were fain thereof.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For we are frail, and know not of His aim,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet Whosoever made us—were His name</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Jove or Jehovah,—should we dare to blame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our Maker that He made us fit for love?—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Were we not modeled by an Artizan</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That to His liking shaped the soul of man,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fashioned all things after His own plan.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Divulging nothing of the aims thereof?—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Is it by His grace we grow adventurous,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, laughing, say:—<i>Love proves victorious,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Who made love potent? if love hoodwink us</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>How may we dare reprove Him That made love</i>?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent14"><span class="allsmcap">MATER, ORA FILIUM,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent12"><span class="allsmcap">UT POST HOC EXILIUM</span></div> + <div class="verse indent12"><span class="allsmcap">NOBIS DONET GAUDIUM</span></div> + <div class="verse indent12"><span class="allsmcap">BEATORUM OMNIUM!</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II—<span class="smcap">Serena</span></h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Ave, Maria! now cry we so</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That see night wake and daylight go.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Mother and Maid, in nothing incomplete,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This night that gathers is more light and fleet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than twilight trod alway with stumbling feet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Agentes semper uno animo</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Ever we touch the prize we dare not take!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ever we know that thirst we dare not slake!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet ever to a dreamed-of goal we make—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Est tui cœli in palatio!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Long, long the road, and set with many a snare;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And to how small sure knowledge are we heir</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That blindly tread, with twilight everywhere!</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Volo in toto; sed non valeo!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Long, long the road, and very frail are we,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That may not lightly curb mortality,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor lightly tread together steadfastly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Et parvum carmen unum facio</i>:—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent14"><span class="allsmcap">MATER, ORA FILIUM,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent12"><span class="allsmcap">UT POST HOC EXILIUM</span></div> + <div class="verse indent12"><span class="allsmcap">NOBIS DONET GAUDIUM</span></div> + <div class="verse indent12"><span class="allsmcap">BEATORUM OMNIUM!</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="42"> + 42 + <br> + “IN FINE,—” + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Good and evil, blending</i>,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Everywhere men say,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Obscurely work at sending</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Rewards on Judgment Day</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Good and evil, blending</i>,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Elsewhere others bray,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Take no thought of ending,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Keep no ordered way,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Eternally at play,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Aim but at inter playing</i>....</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thirdly, some offend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ineffably by saying,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not without shrugs, <i>My friend,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Good and evil blend</i>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="43"> + 43 + <br> + STY-SONG + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">As with her dupes dealt Circê,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life deals with hers, for she</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Reshapes them without mercy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And shapes them swinishly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To wallow swinishly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And for eternity;—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Though, harder than the witch was,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life, changing not the whole,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Transmutes the body, which was</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proud garment of the soul,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And briefly drugs the soul,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose ruin is her goal;—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And means by this thereafter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A subtler mirth to get,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And mock with bitterer laughter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her helpless dupes’ regret,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their swinish dull regret</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For what they half forget.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="44"> + 44 + <br> + THE TOY-MAKER + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">From the dawn of the day to the dusk he toiled,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shaping fanciful playthings with tireless hands,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Useless trumpery toys; and, with vaulting heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gave them unto all peoples—who mocked at him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trampled on them, and soiled them, and went their way.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Then he toiled from the morn to the dusk again,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gave his gimcracks to people who mocked at him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trampled on them, deriding, and went their way.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus he labors, and loudly they jeer at him;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That is, when they remember he still exists.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Who</i>, you ask, <i>is this fellow?</i>—What matter names?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He is only a scribbler who is content.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="45"> + 45 + <br> + THE CASTLE OF CONTENT + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Provençal Burden.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Through the mist of years does it gleam as yet—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That fair and free extent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of moonlit turret and parapet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which castled, once, Content?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent6"><i>Ei ho! Ei ho! the Castle of Content,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>With drowsy music drowning merriment</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Where Dreams and Visions held high carnival,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>And frolicking frail Loves made light of all,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Ei ho! the vanished Castle of Content!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Such toll we took of his niggling Hours</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That the troops of Time were sent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To seize the treasures and fell the towers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the Castle of Content.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent6"><i>Ei ho! Ei ho! the Castle of Content,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>With flaming roof and tumbling battlement</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Where Time hath conquered, and the firelight streams</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Above sore-wounded Loves and dying Dreams,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Ei ho! the vanished Castle of Content!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The towers are fallen; no laughter rings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the rafters, charred and rent;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ruin is wrought of all goodly things</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the Castle of Content.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent6"><i>Ei ho! Ei ho! the Castle of Content,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Razed in the Land of Youth, where mirth was meant!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Nay, all is ashes there; and all in vain</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Hand-shadowed eyes turn backward, to regain</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Disastrous memories of that dear domain,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><i>Ei ho! the vanished Castle of Content!</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="46"> + 46 + <br> + THE PARODIST + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Paul Verville</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I hear proud singing at times;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And when that singing is ended</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I mimic, with arduous rhymes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A song which I knew to be splendid,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And make of what I comprehended—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I singly,—a thing so absurd</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That rightly is reason offended.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">What matter?—My rhymes are blurred</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because I wept when I heard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proud singing whereof these rhymes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Iterate never a word;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And safely I treasure the times</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein is a song that climbs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And my heart singly is stirred.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="47"> + 47 + <br> + THE DARK COMPANION + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Nous sommes unités à cette fin</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Charles Garnier.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="smcap">I and my Shadow are so made one</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">That were we parted each life were done.</span></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Throughout the flight of the blithe bright day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Always he follows me, doggedly;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But I need not heed him,—because my way</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is flecked with sunlight,—and shrug to see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How fondly my Shadow follows me.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">When dying day grows chill and stark,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And vigilant stars troop each to his place,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He rises,—being free in the dark,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He rises and grins,—being freed for a space,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He rises to talk with me face to face.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Then he tells me of much I am loth to hear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For he whispers of all that we two have seen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And loved, and squandered. <i>At forty year,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>My master, how wide is the gulf between</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That which we are and what might have been!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And he whispers of dreams that the years degrade,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of lust made lord over love’s demesne,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of chances wasted, and faith betrayed.</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>My master, how wide is the gulf between</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That which we are and what might have been!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Even thus he whispers; and he and I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sit thus, alone, till the night’s defeat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is signaled eastward, and chance thereby</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wins room for a morrow, fair and fleet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That finds my Shadow beneath my feet.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="smcap">I and my Shadow are so made one</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">That were we parted each life were done.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="48"> + 48 + <br> + SEA-SCAPES + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I lie and dream in the soft warm sand; and the thunder and surge and the baffled roar</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the sea’s relentless and vain endeavors are a pleasant lullaby, here on shore.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Since a little hillock screens yonder ageless tenacious battlings (which shatter, and pass</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In foam and spume), I appraise, half-nodding, much sand and sky and gaunt nodding grass.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And I am content to lie and dream; and I am too drowsy to rise, and see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If it be worth breasting—that ocean yonder, which a little hillock hides from me.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="VII"> + VII + <br> + VERTICORDIA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>A vous parle, compaings de galles</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="49"> + 49 + <br> + THE AGELESS MAID + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Amors, qu’a escien m’a donat tal voler</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Man’s Love, that leads me day by day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through many a screened and scented way,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Finds to assuage my thirst</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No love that may the old love slay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">None sweeter than the first.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Fond heart of mine, that beats so fast</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As this or that fair maid trips past,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Once, and with lesser stir,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We viewed the grace of love, at last,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And turned idolater.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Lad’s Love it was, that in the spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When all things woke to blossoming,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was as a child that came</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Laughing, and filled with wondering,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor knowing his own name.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And still—whatever years impend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To witness time a fickle friend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And youth a dwindling fire,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I must adore till all years end</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My first love, Heart’s Desire.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I may not hear men speak of her</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unmoved, and vagrant pulses stir</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To greet her passing-by,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I, in all her worshipper,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Must serve her till I die.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For I remember: this is she</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That reigns in one man’s memory</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Immune to age and fret,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And stays the maid I may nor see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor win to, nor forget.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="50"> + 50 + <br> + FROM AFAR + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Domna, si no us vezon mei heulh</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Félise, whose will, yet undiscerned, commands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My willing heart, stayest thou unmoved to see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How Love, forlorn and reft of empery,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Strains toward thy free heart with bleeding hands?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now the last hour of day runs leaden sands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast thou indeed, Félise, no thought of me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As all my thoughts take wing and throng to thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Athwart the long leagues of dividing lands?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Félise, I am long sick with long delay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brain-wearied with long dreaming of thy grace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heart-hungered with long waiting in this place</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of days that are so long, whilst Love’s own day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Longed-for so long, draws on with leisured pace</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To make thee mine, dear love so far away.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Félise, have pity!</i>—cringing, at thy door</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Entreats, with dolorous cry and clamoring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That mendicant who quits thee nevermore:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now winter chills the world, and no birds sing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In any woods, yet as in wanton spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He follows thee; and never will have done,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though nakedly he die, from following</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whither thou leadest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent20">Canst thou look upon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His woes, and laugh to see a goddess’ son</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of wide dominion, and in strategy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">More strong than Jove, more wise than Solomon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Inept to combat thy severity?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Félise, have pity! and let Love be one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Among the folk that bear thee company.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="51"> + 51 + <br> + COMPETITORS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Alessandro de Medici</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Heart o’ My Heart, dost thou not hear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tired waves, perturbed by the mystery</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the voiding east where vext winds veer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lamenting and lisping?—<i>I, the Sea,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Grapple and strain till I win to thee</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>I have loved so long, and may never depart</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>From that age-long siege till I win to thee,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Though I win as Enipëus, Heart o’ My Heart.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent6">—The Sea’s exordium</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Pleads thus, <i>cor cordium</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Heart o’ My Heart, dost thou not hear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sighing of dying Winds?—crying to thee:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>We that were friendly with Guinevere,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And wafted Queen Helen oversea,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And served that lady of mystery</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Balkis, a Sheban—caress and depart</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Unwillingly, finding none fairer than thee</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In those cold old venturings, Heart o’ My Heart.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent6">—The Winds’ exordium</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Sighs thus, <i>cor cordium</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Heart o’ My Heart, dost thou not hear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love that strives—as the yearning Sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the truant Winds,—for the staid, and severe,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sturdy and stainless heart of thee?—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nay, without warning Love wins to thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Suddenly some day, swift to impart</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The secret of tears and the mystery</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of sorrow and heartbreak, Heart o’ My Heart.</div> + <div class="verse indent6">—Without exordium</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Love takes, <i>cor cordium</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">All sighs and tears are the Winds and the Sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fit precursors—nay, portion and part—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of Love that is silent, and wins to thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Silently some day, Heart o’ My Heart.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="52"> + 52 + <br> + THE STRIKING HOUR + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Comme un Croisé vaincu, qui longtemps languissait</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen.</span> +</p> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">As one imprisoned, that hath lain alone</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And dreamed of sunlight where no vagrant gleam</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of sunlight pierces, being freed, must deem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This too but dreaming, and must dread the sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose glory dazzles;—even as such-an-one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Am I, whose longing was but now supreme</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For this high hour, and, now it strikes, esteem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I do but dream long dreamed-of goals are won.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Take heed! be still! lest haply God reprove.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We have climbed too high! Those note us overhead</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who know I am unworthy of your love;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And when yet-parted lips, sigh-visited,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">End speech and wait, mine when I will to move,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such joy awakens that I grow afraid.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yet I have loved you in so many ways,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With reverence always, and such purity</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As often curbs that which is base in me;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, though some folly oftentimes betrays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My purpose into naught, through all these days</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Till this day I had striven silently</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To win at last to what, at least, would be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Earth-staggering homage reverberant in your praise.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">To-day in flight from world-wide dissonance,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I storm your heart,—and claim not any fee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For any service rendered anywhere,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But as one comes to his inheritance</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Demand admittance, knowing my love to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No whit unworthy even to enter there.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Catullus might have made of words that seek</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With rippling sound, in soft recurrent ways,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The perfect song, or in remoter days</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Theocritus have hymned you in glad Greek;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But I am not as they,—and dare not speak</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of you unworthily, and dare not praise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Perfection with imperfect roundelays,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And desecrate the prize I dare to seek.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I do not woo you, then, by fashioning</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vext analogues ’twixt you and Guinevere;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor do I come with agile lips that bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sugared periods of a sonneteer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And bring no more,—but just with lips that cling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To yours, in murmuring, <i>I love you, dear</i>!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="53"> + 53 + <br> + LIGHTS OF THE WORLD + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Charles Garnier</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Speed forth, my song, the sun’s ambassador,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lest in the east night prove the conqueror,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And day be slain, and darkness triumph,—for</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun is single, but her eyes are twain.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And now the sunlight and the night contest</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A doubtful battle, and day bides at best</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Doubtful, till Phyllis wake. It is attest</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun is single.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18">But her eyes are twain,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And should the light of all the world delay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And darkness prove victorious? Is it day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now that the sun alone is risen?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent32">Nay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun is single, but her eyes are twain,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Twain firmaments that mock with heavenlier hue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The heavens’ less lordly and less gracious blue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lit with sunlier sunlight through and through.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The sun is single, but her eyes are twain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of fair things this side of Paradise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fairest, of goodly things most goodly.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent36">Rise!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And succor the benighted world that cries,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The sun is single, but her eyes are twain</i>!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="54"> + 54 + <br> + “—OF ANISE AND CUMMIN ALSO” + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">It is in vain I mirror forth the praise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In pondered virelais</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of her that is the lady of my love;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Far-sought and curious phrases fail to tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The tender miracle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of her white body and the grace thereof.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus many and many an artful-artless strain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is fashioned all in vain:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sound proves unsound; and even her name, that is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To me more glorious than the glow of fire</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or dawn or love’s desire</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or opals interlinked with turquoises,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mocks utterance.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent16">So, lacking skill to praise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That perfect bodily beauty which is hers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even as those worshippers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who bore rude offerings of honey and maize,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their all, into the gold-paved ministers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of Aphroditê, I have given her these</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My faltering melodies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That are Love’s lean and ragged messengers.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="55"> + 55 + <br> + “SWEET ADELAIS” + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had you lived when earth was new</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What had bards of old to do</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Save to sing in praise of you?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had you lived in ancient days,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Adelais, sweet Adelais,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You had all the ancients’ praise,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You whose beauty would have won</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Canticles of Solomon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had the sage Judean king</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gazed upon this goodliest thing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Earth of Heaven’s grace hath got.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had you gladdened Greece, were not</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All the nymphs of Greece forgot?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had you trod Sicilian ways,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Adelais, sweet Adelais,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You had pilfered all their praise:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bion and Theocritus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had transmitted unto us</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Honeyed harmonies to tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of your beauty’s miracle,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Delicate, desirable,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And their singing skill were bent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You-ward tenderly,—content,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While the world slipped by, to gaze</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the grace of you, and praise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet Adelais.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had you lived in Roman times</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No Catullus in his rhymes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had lamented Lesbia’s sparrow!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He had praised your forehead, narrow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the newly-crescent moon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">White as apple-trees in June;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He had made some amorous tune</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the laughing light Erôs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Snared as Psychê-ward he goes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By your beauty,—by your slim,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">White, perfect beauty.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent22">After him</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Horace, finding in your eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Horace limned in lustrous wise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Would have made you melodies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fittingly to hymn your praise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet Adelais.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had your father’s household been</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Guelfic-born or Ghibelline,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beatricê were unknown</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On her star-encompassed throne.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">For, had Dante viewed your grace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Adelais, sweet Adelais,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You had reigned in Bicê’s place,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had, for candles, Sirius,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rigel and Rutilicus,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whilst you heard Zacháriel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Chant of you, and, chanting, tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All the grace of you, and praise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet Adelais.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had you lived when earth was new</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What had bards of old to do</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Save to sing in praise of you?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">They had sung of you always,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Adelais, sweet Adelais,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As worthiest of all men’s praise;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor had undying melodies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wailed soft as love may sing of these</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dream-hallowed names,—of Héloïse,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ysoude, Salomê, Semelê,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Morgaine, Lucrece, Antiopê,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brunhilda, Helen, Mélusine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Penelopê, and Magdalene:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">—But you alone had all men’s praise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet Adelais.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="56"> + 56 + <br> + LOVE’S LOVERS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Nor had undying melodies</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Wailed soft as love may sing of these</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That are love’s martyrs,—Héloïse,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Brunhilda, Helen, Mélusine,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Antiopê, and Magdalene,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Ysoude, Salomê, Semelê,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Lucretia, and Penelopê.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">What of these ladies that have been</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exalted by stern songs wherein</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beats strong the valorous heart of Love</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And all the power and pride thereof—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unto what haven are they sped?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Because they are not wholly dead:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Land of Matters Unforgot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They walk at will, where time is not</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And death has no dominion,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And there they never view the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But through a vague and amiable</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hushed twilight pass, and, passing, tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their tale of ancient miseries,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And neither laugh nor weep.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent28">To these,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose lives were troubled harmonies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whereby the heart of Love yet is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Enamored, Love at last accords</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An end of love. To these, the Lords</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of Life and Death, that kindled lust,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And wrath, and joy frail as blown dust,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And faith like flame that braves the wind;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And kindled for each sin they sinned</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fame, and for every misery fame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Set as a flaring star to flame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And blaze and glow above the seas</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where light love founders: have granted peace</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unvexed by heart-beats.—Thus they pass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Desiring naught of life that was</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exhausted of all things long ago,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With void eyes, emptied of woe,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Emptied of joy, pass hand-in-hand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Being shadows in a shadow land.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The story of their love is writ</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In song; the valiant sound of it</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Endures unaltered evermore:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But we, that love as heretofore</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These loved, must perish, as they, and be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forgotten by all men utterly.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I cry <i>Content</i>! Our names will die.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I cry <i>Content</i>! and cheerily,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Félise.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent6">Our love-songs are unsung,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet we have loved. We have been young</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In April and in unison ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oblivious of oblivion,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And heedless of each after-year,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How well we lived our verses, dear!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII"> + VIII + <br> + RIDENS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Soient blanches, soient brunettes</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="57"> + 57 + <br> + BALLAD OF PLAGIARY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Frères et maîtres, vous qui cultivez</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Paul Verville.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hey, my masters, lords and brothers, ye that till the fields of rhyme,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are ye deaf ye will not hearken to the clamor of your time?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Still ye blot and change and polish—vary, heighten and transpose—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Old sonorous metres marching grandly to their tranquil close.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye have toiled and ye have fretted; ye attain perfected speech:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye have nothing new to utter and but platitudes to preach.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still your rhymes are all of loving, as within the old days when</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love was lord of the ascendant in the horoscopes of men.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Still ye make of love the utmost end and scope of all your art,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, more blind than he you write of, note not what a modest part</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loving now may claim in living, when we have scant time to spare,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who are plundering the sea-depths, taking tribute of the air,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whilst the sun makes pictures for us; since to-day, for good or ill,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Earth and sky and sea are harnessed, and the lightnings work our will.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hey, my masters, all these love-songs by dust-hidden mouths were sung</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That ye mimic and re-echo with an artful-artless tongue,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sung by poets close to nature, free to touch her garments’ hem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whom to-day ye know not truly; for ye only copy them.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Them ye copy, copy always, with your backs turned to the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Caring not what man is doing, noting that which man has done.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>We are talking over telephones, as Shakespeare could not talk;</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>We are riding out in motor-cars, where Homer had to walk;</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And pictures Dante labored on of mediæval Hell</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The nearest cinematograph paints quicker, and as well.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But ye copy, copy always;—and ye marvel when ye find</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This new beauty, that new meaning,—while a model stands behind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Waiting, young and fair as ever, till some singer turn and trace</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Something of the deathless wonder of life lived in any place.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hey, my masters, turn from piddling to the turmoil and the strife!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cease from sonneting, my brothers; let us fashion songs from life.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">THUS I WROTE ERE SYLVIA PASSED ME.... THEN DID I EPITOMIZE</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">ALL LIFE’S BEAUTY IN ONE POEM, AND MAKE HASTE TO EULOGIZE</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">QUITE THE FAIREST THING LIFE BOASTS OF, FOR I WROTE OF SYLVIA’S EYES.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="58"> + 58 + <br> + TOUCHING UBIQUITY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Voulant faire un cadeau digne de la plus belle</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Charles Garnier.</span> +</p> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The gods in honor of my Sylvia’s worth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bore gifts to her:—and Jove, Olympus’ lord,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Co-rule of Earth and Heaven did accord,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Hermes brought that lyre he framed at birth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Venus her famed girdle (to engirth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A fairer beauty now), and Mars his sword,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And wrinkled Plutus half the secret hoard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And immemorial treasure of mid-earth;—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And while the careful gods were pondering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which of these goodly gifts the goodliest was,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Young Cupid came among them carolling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And proffered unto her a looking-glass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein she gazed and saw the goodliest thing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That Earth had borne, and Heaven might not surpass.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Cupid invaded Hell, and boldly drove</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before him all the hosts of Erebus,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Till he had conquered; and grim Cerberus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sang madrigals, the Furies rhymed of love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Old Charon sighed, and sonnets rang above</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The gloomy Styx; and even as Tantalus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was Prosperine discrowned in Tartarus,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Cupid regnant in the place thereof.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus Love is monarch throughout Hell to-day;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In Heaven we know his power was always great;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Earth acclaimed Love’s mastery straightway</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When Sylvia came to gladden Earth’s estate:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus Hell and Heaven and Earth his rule obey,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Sylvia’s heart alone is obdurate.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="59"> + 59 + <br> + FANCIES IN FILIGREE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —Strambotti of <span class="smcap">Alessandro de Medici</span>. +</p> + + +<h3>XXIV</h3> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Guarda negli occhi la nostra regina</i>” +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">My Lady’s Eyes Remembrance bring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of lyttel Waves whose Wavering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beneathe ye roving Summer Breeze</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Makes scintillant hushed Summer Seas</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whenas ye Sun is vanishing.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">They gladden me, as when in Spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We sing & knowe not why we sing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In sooth, there be noe Eyes like these</div> + <div class="verse indent6">My Lady’s Eyes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Whenas their Glance is threatening</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They frighten Cupid, & that King</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From Florimel a-quaking flees;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But when they soften, on hys Knees</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love falls before them worshipping</div> + <div class="verse indent6">My Lady’s Eyes.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>XLI</h3> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Rime d’amore usar dolci e leggiadre</i>” +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Ye little Rhyme I swore last Night</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To lay before ye Eyes so bright</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I have long loved—& loved too well!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So now ye Muses to compell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">& shapely Phrases to indite.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Which shall it be?—Ye Villanelle,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ode, Triolet, Rondeau, Rondel,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ballade, or Sonnet?—Each is hight</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Ye littel Rhyme.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yet none will aide my hapless Plight:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All little Rhymes are short & slight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">& of ye Charmes of Florimel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An Epick’s Length alone can tell,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So that of her I may not write</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Ye lyttel Rhyme.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="60"> + 60 + <br> + IT IS ENOUGH + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Love me or love me not, it is enough</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That I have loved you, seeing my whole life is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Uplifted and made glad by the glory of Love,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My life that was a scroll bescrawled and blurred</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With tavern-catches, which that pity of his</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Erased, and wrote instead one lonely word,</div> + <div class="verse indent8"><i>Yolande!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I have accorded you incessant praise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And song and service, dear, because of this;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And always I have dreamed incessantly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who always dreamed,—<i>When in oncoming days</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>This man or that shall love you, and at last</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>This man or that shall win you, it must be</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That, loving him, you will have pity on me</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>When happiness engenders memory</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And long thoughts nor unkindly of the past,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent8"><i>Yolande!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Of this I know not surely,—who am sure</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That I shall always love you while I live,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that, when I am dead, with naught to give</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of song or service, Love will yet endure,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And yet retain his last prerogative,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When I lie still, and sleep out centuries</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With dreams of you and the exceeding love</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I bore you, and am glad dreaming thereof,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And give God thanks for all, and so find peace,</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Yolande!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="61"> + 61 + <br> + AN ARCADIAN APOLOGIZES + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Charles Garnier</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I pray you do not marvel, dear, that I,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whenever with fond hardihood I try</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To rhyme your praises, fail ingloriously.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And marvel not that I in happier wise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have hymned Félise and lauded Sylvia’s eyes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now may offer you no melodies.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We poets are so made that when we be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unscathed by love none woos so well as we,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But, wounded once, we worship silently.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="62"> + 62 + <br> + ARCADIANS CONFER IN EXILE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Charles Garnier</span>. +</p> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">So long ago it was! Nay, is it true</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In verity we passed a month or so</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In Arcady when life and love were new</div> + <div class="verse indent8">So long ago?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The tide of time’s indomitable flow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Augmenting, rears a drearier realm, whereto</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We twain are exiled. Yet ... I do not know ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now that a woman calls, whose eyes are blue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose speech is gracious—strangely sweet and low</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She calls, and smiles as <span class="smcap">Stella</span> used to do</div> + <div class="verse indent8">So long ago.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I am not fit to follow; yet I pray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some mighty task be set me, to commit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In her dear name, for trifles to essay</div> + <div class="verse indent8">I am not fit.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Nay, I, unstable and infirm of wit—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even I!—return to my old love to-day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose bounty is so fond and infinite</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That I am heartened, and made strong, and may</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not ever falter in deserving it,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If but for dread lest of such grace men say</div> + <div class="verse indent8">I am not fit.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Time has changed naught in us; for now the din</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And darkness of tempestuous years, that wrought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So vainly, lift; and it is lightly seen</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Time has changed naught.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Such knowledge of those brawling years I bought:</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The thing which shall be is that which has been,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>When heaven again surprises us, unsought,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And life returns full circle; and we win</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Again to realms which with how little thought</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>We ceded, and find loyalty wherein</i></div> + <div class="verse indent8"><i>Time has changed naught.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Sweetheart, I wait; now, as in time gone by,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your suppliant, half-frightened, half-elate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Outside the trellised doors of Arcady,</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Sweetheart, I wait.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Again I glimpse its meadows—through a grate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alas!—and streams and groves and cloudless sky;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cry to you to be compassionate,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yea, as of old to <span class="smcap">Stella</span>, now I cry</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To you that once were <span class="smcap">Stella</span>; and my fate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Attends your piloting, for whose reply,</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Sweetheart, I wait.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="63"> + 63 + <br> + THE EAVESDROPPERS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The heart of the twilight is troubled; and there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where the stubbled fields bathe in colorless air,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And show as the chin of a giant unshorn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dog-weary, and dreaming of days unborn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The east is perturbed; and night kindles to morn.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Wide world, that wakes to each miracle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Each dawn engenders, thou wilt not tell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If mother of me indeed thou art,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How gladly and furtively I depart</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Master and lord of Phyllida’s heart.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Hah, Lady Moon, so we meet again!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I remember. Who silvered the window-pane,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Climbed over heaped faggots with noiseless tread,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned velvet the cobwebs that gleamed overhead,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stealthily, hearkening to all we said?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Eavesdropper, keep my secret well!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Remember the tales that old poets tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the Latmian hills, and a cave thereon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whereinto passed when each day was done—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Eavesdropper!—not only Endymion.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Ye will not tell of it. Nor will he,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The owl that hoots now in yonder tree,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And flutters his wings, with a watchful eye</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bent through the boughs at a passer-by</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who laughs, in the dawn ... and he wonders why.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="64"> + 64 + <br> + NOSTALGIA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Were the All-Mother wise, life (shaped anotherwise)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Would be all high and true;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Could I be otherwise I had been otherwise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Simply because of you....</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>With whom I have naught to do,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And who are no longer you!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Life with its pay to be bade us essay to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What we became,—I believe</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were there a way to be what it was play to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I would not greatly grieve....</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Hearts are not worn on the sleeve.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Let us neither laugh nor grieve!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent6"><span class="allsmcap">BUT, OH, THE WORLD IS WIDE, DEAR LASS,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">THAT I MUST WANDER THROUGH,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">AND MANY A WIND AND TIDE, DEAR LASS,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">MUST FLOW ’TWIXT ME AND YOU,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">ERE LOVE THAT MAY NOT BE DENIED</span></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">SHALL BRING ME BACK TO YOU,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">—DEAR LASS!</span></div> + <div class="verse indent4"><span class="allsmcap">SHALL BRING ME BACK TO YOU.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="IX"> + IX + <br> + APATURIA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Ainsi m’ont amours abusé</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="65"> + 65 + <br> + GRAY DAYS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I can find no meaning in life.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That have weighed the world,—and it was</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Abundant with folly, and rife</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With sorrows brittle as glass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with joys that flicker and pass</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like dreams through a fevered head;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And as the dripping of rain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In gardens naked and dead</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is the obdurate thin refrain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of our youth which is presently dead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And Chloris, whom last I loved,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Looks ever with loathing on me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As one she hath seen disproved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And stained with such smirches as be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not ever cleansed utterly;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And is loth to remember the days</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When destiny fixed her name</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the theme and the goal of my praise;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And my love engenders shame,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I stain what I strive for and praise.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Chloris, most perfect of all,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Just to have known you is well!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And it heartens me now to recall</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That just to have known you is well.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And naught else is desirable</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Save only to do as you willed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And to love you my whole life long;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But this heart in me is filled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With hunger cruel and strong,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with hunger unfulfilled.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Fond heart, though thy hunger be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As a flame that wanders unstilled,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is none more perfect than she!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="66"> + 66 + <br> + A WOOD-PIECE + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yes, you will soon forget. Leaf-shadowed ways</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are disenchanted now; the kindly haze</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of love-light lifts from too-long loitering;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A kiss is now at most two lips that cling;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And mirth is dead now; and desire decays.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Even now Love flutters restive wings, and stays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Impatient of restraint, what while I praise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love’s old lost favor, past replevining,—</div> + <div class="verse indent8">But you will soon forget.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Yes, you will soon forget: and naught betrays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That any heart save mine even now inveighs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In futile rage because nor youth nor spring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can stay or solace light love’s vanishing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall remember, dear, through all my days,</div> + <div class="verse indent8">But you will soon forget.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="67"> + 67 + <br> + LOVE GOES INTO WINTER QUARTERS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">(<span class="smcap">The Scene</span> a dale, somewhere in Arcady,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But filled with snow and sleet, made horrible</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By many tramplings; there anon must be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A <span class="smcap">Crier</span>, robed in black and with a bell;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To whom a <span class="smcap">Poet</span>, peering curiously.)</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">“What are thou calling, small sombre Crier?—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who seeks what fugitive? who is beguiled?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is it a theft or a house to hire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sheriff’s sale or a stolen child?”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>For none of these do I play the crier.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And toll a reward where the winds are wild,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And I strive knee-deep in the sleet and the mire</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In quest of a kingdom undefiled.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">“Reward, quoth he!—and how darest thou prattle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of guerdon-giving, that goest in black,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sans cap and sandals, where bleak winds battle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which first may strip the rags from thy back?”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Of no compulsion save my own pleasure’s</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>I wear this black—for a mourning sign,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Till Yesterday waken, and yield the treasures</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And gold-wrought garments which once were mine.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">“Faith, only a madman dreams to muster</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The bygone hours, bid them live again ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though Crœsus wheedle or Charlemaigne bluster,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Time heeds not at all, and they strive in vain.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Nay, Time forgets them; for these—unlanded,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Unkinged, uncarnate, and cold,—lie hid</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Where Time comes never, to be commanded;—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Time cannot hear through the coffin’s lid.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">“So it matters naught with what pomp they wended,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What queens they wed, and what realms they won!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These things were goodly; these things are ended;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And naught sleeps sounder than joy fordone.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Cry Absit omen! the sermon is stupid—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Hey, even of sermons I grow afraid,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Who am no madman, but outlawed</i> <span class="smcap">Cupid</span>,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>With never a place to lay my head</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent8"><i>But Yesterday! for Yesterday!</i></div> + <div class="verse indent6"><i>I cry a reward for a Yesterday</i></div> + <div class="verse indent6"><i>Now lost or stolen or gone astray,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent6"><i>With all the laughter of Yesterday!</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">(FOR WE HAVE MADE AN END OF AMOROUS PLAYING,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">AND SHALLOW-HEARTED LOVE IS TURNED ASTRAY,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">WITH CHILDISH SORROWING AND WEAK-VOICED PRAYING</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">FOR YESTERDAY.)</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="68"> + 68 + <br> + FLOTSAM + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We did not share the same inheritance,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I and this woman, five years older than I,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet daughter of a later century,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who is therefore only wearied by that dance</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which has set my blood a-leaping.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent34">It is queer</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To note how kind her face grows, listening</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To my wild talk, and plainly pitying</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My callow youth, and seeing in me a dear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Amusing boy,—yet somewhat old to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still reading <i>Alice Through the Looking-Glass</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">And <i>Water Babies</i>....</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent26">With light talk we pass.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And I that have lived long in Arcady—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I that have kept so many a foolish tryst,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And written drivelling rhymes—feel stirring in me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Droll pity for this woman who pities me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And whose weak mouth so many men have kissed.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="69"> + 69 + <br> + HEIRS UNAPPARENT + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">How very heartily I hate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The man that will love you,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some day, somewhere, and more than I,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with a love more true;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whom for that reason you will love</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As you may not love me,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though I might hold your heart, I think,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Held I one heart in fee.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">My dear, too many ghosts arise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Between us when I woo,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One mocking me with softer lips,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And one with eyes more blue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And one with hands more fine than yours,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And one with lovelier hair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proclaiming:—<i>She is fair enough,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>But then ... I too was fair.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>What of thy heart thou gavest me</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">(“And me!”—“And me!”)—<i>is thine</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>No more to give again. That part</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Is mine.</i>—(“And mine!”—“And mine!”)</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And he that plays with love too long</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Gets love of many-an-one,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>But is denied Love’s crowning grace,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And can give love to none.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Since these be truthful ghosts, I shrug</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And woo you without tears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or too much laughter, till with time</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A properer Prince appears,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whom very heartily I hate,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The man that will love you,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some day, somewhere, and more than I,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with a love more true.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="70"> + 70 + <br> + THE SUN’S HIGHWAY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Antoine Riczi</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Though long be the way to the Limit of Lands,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And through leagues and leagues of treacherous sands,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And miles of marsh and mire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One must win, if at all, to the rim of the west</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ere one enter the kingdom the sun loves best,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet there is my heart’s desire.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And lately I learned of a pleasanter way</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which two of us travel on every day—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh, for all that a staid world deems</div> + <div class="verse indent0">None cross high heaven, men have forgot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun in his flamy chariot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And me in my car of dreams!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Whereby we win to a land of ease</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In whose stately glittering palaces</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wracked lives are lived anew,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the sun and I go on pilgrimage</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the lovelier land of a younger age,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where what might have been is true.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I may not know on what lordly quest</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun fares sturdily into the west,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But I know that he goes with joy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And espies, perhaps, past the mountained rim</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Repentant Daphnê awaiting him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or Creusa no longer coy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">There, too, she waits whom alone I love;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And a chill light heart that I could not move</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And bright eyes which would not see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My heart’s hard hunger, no more the same,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Enkindle and nourish love’s lovely flame,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And its beacon burns for me.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Well! I must win to her; I must kneel—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Kneel at her naked feet,—and feel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Soft hands that caress my hair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Silently—oh, in such tender wise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That I shall not hasten to raise tired eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To a face however fair.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Fair face unstained by the grave’s eclipse!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fair face that lifts now to no man’s lips</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And troubles no man’s sleep!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The woman that wore you has children now ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But that is nothing; I keep my vow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I have a tryst to keep.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And so in a world whose tumults seem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Intriguing shadows I tread, and dream</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of a maiden who dreams of me:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the tryst is set; be it late, be it soon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or east of the sun or west of the moon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall win to you, Dorothy.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="71"> + 71 + <br> + THE OLDEST DITTY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Nicolas de Caen</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And so farewell;—for now assuredly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Did the long pulse of the profoundest sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So deep it knows not light nor any heat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vex now some seaweed thick about my feet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which there had nodded through a century,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All faith in you were not more dead in me,—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And so farewell!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And so, <i>Farewell!</i> I cry,—that may not see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love quicken in the eyes of Dorothy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ever again, nor evermore repeat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mad rhymes to her, nor ever bend to meet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her lips this side of all eternity;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Love hath nowhere enfixed pre-potency,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent10"><i>And so farewell!</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="72"> + 72 + <br> + TO THE SAME AIR AS THE PRECEDING + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>And so farewell</i> (as my rondeau wails</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In obsolete accents and absolute truth),</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For all is over, and nothing avails</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To capture the rapture of last year’s youth.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">All is quite over. Touch hands. Good-bye.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For you the future is nowise dim;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For me there are other women, and I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Must forget you now, since that is your whim.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And we will laugh in the after-times</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At two young people we knew, no doubt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who scribbled each other such woeful rhymes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And played a comical tragedy out.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We shall not die of it. We shall be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Contented and healed of the passing smart;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And yet if you had not tired of me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life while life lasted were yours, sweetheart.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="X"> + X + <br> + ARMATA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Ainsi le bon temps regretons</i>” +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="73"> + 73 + <br> + LIGHT COINAGE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">“Mercuriens”: Paul Verville.</span> +</p> + + +<h3>XX</h3> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>C’est une comédie, qui termine aujourd’huy</i>” +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">That comedy we end, content to please</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its players merely, was a comedy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein Love had no part. It may not be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Enrolled among Love’s mighty memories,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And men unborn will read of Héloïse,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Ruth, and Rosamond, and Semelê,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When none remembers your name’s melody</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or rhymes your name enregistered with these.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And will my name wake moods as amorous</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As that of Abélard or Lancelot</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Arouses? be recalled when Pyramus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Tristram are unrhymed of and forgot?—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Time’s laughter answers, who accords to us</div> + <div class="verse indent0">More gracious fields, wherein we harvest—what?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>XXIII</h3> + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Voicy! un autre chante!—Il n’est pas interdit</i>” +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>A singer, eh?... Well, well! but when he sings</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Take jealous heed lest idiosyncrasies</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Entinge and taint too deep his melodies;</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>See that his lute has no discordant strings</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To harrow us; and let his vaporings</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Be all of virtue and its victories,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And of man’s best and noblest qualities,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And scenery, and flowers, and similar things.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus bid our paymasters, whose mutterings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some few deride, and blithely link their rhymes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At random; and, as ever, on frail wings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of wine-stained paper scribbled with such rhymes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Men mount to heaven, and loud laughter springs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From hell’s midpit, whose fuel is such rhymes.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="74"> + 74 + <br> + GRAVE GALLANTRY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Charles Garnier</span>. +</p> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">My rival Death is fashioned amorously;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No caliph boasts more comely wives than he,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For whom crowned Cleopatra reft the snare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of careful-eyed Octavius, and—less fair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than she, but lovely still—Leucothoë,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Atalanta, and Antigonê,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loosed virgin zones.... What need hadst thou to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Desirous then of this girl’s lips and hair,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">My rival Death?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">What need hadst thou likewise of Dorothy!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What need of that which was all life to me!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What need, lascivious Death, that she forswear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fond oaths to me—fond oaths made otherwhere—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In thy lank arms, and leave me friends with thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">My rival, Death!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Had she divined how many virelais</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have feebly parodied some piercing phase</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of love for her whom love lacked might to claim—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How many rhymes have marshalled frail and lame,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet fervent-hearted, to avouch her praise,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such pity had been mine as well repays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drear years of waiting. Ey, in kindlier days</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Compassion might have worn some kinglier name</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Had she divined.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Now that may never be; divergent ways</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Allured; and all is ended; and naught betrays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dead cheeks to kindle, now, with livelier flame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For aught I utter.... Yet it were no shame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To dream a little on her softening gaze</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Had she divined.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">That she is dead breeds no uncouth despair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">However,—as death bred when men would bear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A glove upon their helms, and slay or sing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In honor of its giver, hazarding</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life and life’s aims because a girl was fair ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grotesque their liege-lord seems when we compare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That Cupidling who spurs me to declare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sedate regret, in rhythmic sorrowing</div> + <div class="verse indent8">That she is dead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Nay, he is much the punier of the pair,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My little lord, who dreads lest critics stare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Too pointedly,—a flimsy fainéant king;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet hearts may crack without crude posturing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This girl is dead; and I confess I care</div> + <div class="verse indent10">That she is dead.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="75"> + 75 + <br> + BY-WORDS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Alphonse Moreau</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Not even now in all things may there be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An end of folly; nor, as mutineers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against love’s lunacy, that now appears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of no more weight or worth or urgency</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than last night’s dreams,—not wholly yet may we</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Become in all things like all our compeers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That are armored by interminable years</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And keep no vestige of insanity.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>What yet remains, now we drift far apart,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>With seas between, and each of us forgets</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The happenings of all our happy days?</i>—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your by-words, heard on other lips, to raise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love’s pitiable phantom in my heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And waken mirthful memories and regrets.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="76"> + 76 + <br> + ANOTHER LABORER WEIGHS HIS HIRE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Amors, tant vos ai servit</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Lord, I have worshipped thee ever,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through all these years</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I have served thee, forsaking never</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Light Love that veers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As a child between laughter and tears.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast thou no more to afford,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Naught save laughter and tears,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love, my lord?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I have borne thy heaviest burden,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor served thee amiss:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When thou hast given a guerdon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lo, it was this—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sigh, a shudder, a kiss.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast thou no more to accord?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I would have more than this,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love, my lord.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I am wearied of love that is pastime</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gifts that it brings;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I entreat of thee, lord, at this last time</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ineffable things.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nay, have proud long-dead kings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stricken no subtler chord,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whereof the memory clings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love, my lord?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">But for a little we live;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Show me thine innermost hoard!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast thou no more to give,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love, my lord?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="77"> + 77 + <br> + RETRACTIONS + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="right"> + —After <span class="smcap">Théodore Passerat</span>. +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">YOU ASK A SONNET?—WELL, IT IS YOUR RIGHT.</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">I GRANT IT, LAUGH, SHRUG, SET ABOUT THE TASK,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">AND MAKE A SEQUENCE, SINCE IT IS MY RIGHT</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">NO MORE TO GIVE YOU ONLY WHAT YOU ASK.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Although as yet my cure be incomplete,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet love of you, time-lulled and vigorless,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Engenders now no more unhappiness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not even discontent. And now we meet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unmoved—half-waggish,—and my pulses beat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Quite calmly as I wonder now, <i>Is he</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>As proud as I was? and—as once to me—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>To him is her love lovely and very sweet?</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Nor do I grudge him any joy of his</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who follows on a road that I have trod,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sues for love where I was wont to sue;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I am contented by remembrances,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And know that neither fate nor time, nor God,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Robs me of that first mastery of you.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I am contented by remembrances,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dreams of dead passions, wraiths of vanished times,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fragments of vows, and by-ends of old rhymes,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flotsam and jetsam tumbling in the seas</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whereon, long since, put forth our argosies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which, launched for traffic in the Isles of Love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lie foundered somewhere in some firth thereof,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Encradled by eternal silences.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus, having come to naked bankruptcy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let us part friends, as thrifty tradesmen do</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When common ventures fail; for it may be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These battered oaths and rhymes may yet ring true</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To some fair woman’s hearing, so that she</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Will listen and think of love, and I of you.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">You have chosen the love “that lives sans murmurings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sans passion,” and incuriously endures</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The gradual lapse of time. You have chosen as yours</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A level life of little happenings;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And through the long autumnal evenings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lord Love, no doubt, is of the company,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hugs your ingleside contentedly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Smiles at old griefs, and rustles needless wings.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And yet I think that sometimes memories</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of divers trysts, of blood that urged like wine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On moonlit nights, and of that first long kiss</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whereby your lips were first made one with mine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Awake and trouble you, and loving is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Once more important and perhaps divine.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">You have chosen; and I cry content thereto,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cry your pardon also, and am reproved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In that I took you for a woman I loved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Odd centuries ago, and would undo</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That curious error. Nay, your eyes are blue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your speech is gracious, but you are not she;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I am older,—and changed how utterly!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I am no longer I, you are not you.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Time, destined as we thought but to befriend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And guerdon love like ours, finds you beset</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With joys and griefs I neither share nor mend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who am a stranger; and we two are met</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor wholly glad nor sorry, and the end</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of too much laughter is a faint regret.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">It is in many ways made plain to us</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That love must grow like any common thing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Root, bud, and leaf, ere ripe for garnering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mellow fruitage front us; even thus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Must Helena encounter Thesëus</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ere Paris come, and every century</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spawn divers queens who die with Antony</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But live a great while first with Julius.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Thus I have spoken the prologue of a play</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherein I have no part, and laugh, and sit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Contented in the wings, whilst you portray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An amorous maid with gestures that befit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This lovely rôle,—as who knows better, pray.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than I that helped you in rehearsing it?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">With Love I garnered mirth, and dreams, and shame;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And half his playmate, half his worshipper,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I flouted him, and yet might not demur</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To do his bidding, or in aught defame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love’s tutorage,—not even when you came,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And at the portal of Love’s golden house</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We hazarded stray kisses, sighs and vows,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lightly staked them in a hackneyed game.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And now the game is ended, dear; and we</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May not re-enter that august domain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which we, encoasting, lost eternally;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now, although beloved by many men,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You may love no man as you have loved me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who have loved you as I may not love again.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Unto how many futures I was heir</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In those old talks, which fixed what must be done</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When we at last should rule (in Babylon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Perhaps, or in Caer-Is, or Kennaquhair),</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And must do this or that, and bravely share</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fantastic fates, whose frolic freakishness</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seems how less quaint than this is,—to confess</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That I have lost you, and do not greatly care!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Well! had we never cared, in all that fleet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet time which passed so swiftly and is gone—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gone eternally!—yet it was sweet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To play at loving, for all that every groan,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gainless grieving, was in counterfeit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And parody of love, ungained, unknown.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>VIII</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">And so we played at loving. So we played</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With love as venturous children in the sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wade ankle-deep, and laugh, and wistfully</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Peer at the world’s far rim, being half-afraid.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Half-wistful. So we laughed, and we obeyed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That changeless law which sways the cosmic plan,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ever draws the maid unto the man,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ever draws the man unto the maid.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">The sea hides deep our fragile argosy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And idle doubts quest fruitlessly above</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Those shattered hulks, too frail to brave the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Too frail to brave the wrath and mirth thereof:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I had not heart to love you heartily,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You were too shrewd to be befooled by love.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>IX</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Time was I coveted the woes they rued</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose love commemorates them—I that meant</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To get like grace of love then!—and intent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To win, as they had done, love’s plenitude,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rapture and havoc, vauntingly I sued</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That love like theirs might make a toy of me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At will caressed, at will (if publicly)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Demolished, as Love found or found not good.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">To-day I am no longer overbrave.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I have a fever—I that always knew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This hour was certain!—and am too weak to rave,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Too tired to seek (as later I must do)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tried remedies—time, manhood and the grave,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To drug, abate and banish love of you.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>X</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Time was I loved you.... And indeed I came</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To love you so time hardly washes out</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The scars of an old moment which, as flame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Leaps toward chaff, bereft me even of doubt:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And then indeed I knew you had deceived me—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You, even you!—and counterfeiting truth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So cunningly that you and I believed me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I cried, <i>I will forget!</i> ... This was in youth.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Now, being older and less over-nice,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I estimate these follies, breed of them</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My little books,—shift, polish and re-price</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The jewels of a battered diadem,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cry, <i>What hope of heaven for those who sell</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>What I am vending? and what need of hell?</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>XI</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">We are as time moulds us, lacking wherewithal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To shape out nobler fortunes or contend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against all-patient Fates, who may not mend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The allotted pattern of things temporal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or alter it a thread’s-width, or let fall</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A single stitch thereof, until at last</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The web and its drear weavers be overcast,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And predetermined darkness swallow all.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">They have ordained for us a time to sing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A time to love, a time wherein to tire</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of all spent songs and kisses; carolling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such elegies as buried dreams require,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love now departs, and leaves us shivering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beside the embers of a burned-out fire.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>XII</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Cry <i>Kismet!</i> and take heart. Erôs is gone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor may we follow to that loftier air</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Olympians breathe. Take heart, and enter where</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A lighter love-lord takes a heatless sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oblivious of tangled webs ill-spun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By ancient wearied weavers, for it may be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His guidance leads to lovers of such as we</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hearts so credulous as to be won.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Cry <i>Kismet!</i> Put away vain memories</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of all old sorrows and of all old joys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And learn that life is never quite amiss</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So long as unreflective girls and boys</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Remember that young lips were meant to kiss,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hold that laughter is a seemly noise.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>XIII</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">So, let us laugh.... How quaint that even I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was once a fool such as each fool bemocks,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Burlesques and shames! how droll a paradox</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It is that we meet calmly! nor deny</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That I in an old time dared to be I,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And you in that same season dared be you,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When commonly we wooed (as others do,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And we do not, now) dreams which do not die,—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">But take new life, with new idolaters.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Among our juniors; and in naught are kin</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To our time-tempered blood which, drowsing, stirs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A little, recollecting with what din</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ardor we assailed stark barriers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proved obdurate ere we were locked therein.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>XIV</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">So, let us laugh,—lest vain rememberings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Breed, as of old, some rude bucolic cry</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of awkward anguishes, of dreams that die</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Without decorum, of Love lacking wings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet striving you-ward in his flounderings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Eternally,—as now, even when I lie</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As I lie now, who know that you and I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exist and heed not lesser happenings.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I was. I am. I will be. Eh, no doubt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For some sufficient cause, I drift, defer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Equivocate, dream, hazard, grow more stout,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Age, am no longer Love’s idolater,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And yet I could and would not live without</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your faith that heartens and your doubts which spur.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<h3>XV</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Nightly I mark and praise, or great or small.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such stars as proudly struggle one by one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To heaven’s highest place, as Procyon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Antares, Naös, Tejat and Nibal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Attain supremacy, and proudly fall,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still glorious, and glitter, and are gone</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So very soon;—whilst steadfast and alone</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Polaris gleams, and is not changed at all.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Daily I find some gallant dream that ranges</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The heights of heaven; and as others do,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I serve my dream until my dream estranges</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its errant bondage, and I note anew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That nothing dims, nor shakes, nor mars, nor changes.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fond faith in you and in my love of you.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><span class="allsmcap">AND THEREFORE PRAISE I EVEN THE MOST HIGH</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">LORD CHANCE,—THAT, BEING OF KIN WITH SETEBOS,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">IN ORDERING LIFE’S LABOR, STRIFE AND LOSS,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class="allsmcap">ORDAINED THAT YOU BE YOU, AND I BE I.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="78"> + 78 + <br> + GARDEN-SONG + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +“<i>Adieu, nous n’irons plus aux champs</i>” +</p> + +<p class="right"> + —<span class="smcap">Charles Garnier.</span> +</p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Farewell to Fields and Butterflies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And levities of Yester-year!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For we espy, and hold more dear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Wicket of our Destinies.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Whereby we enter, once for all,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A Garden which such Fruit doth yield</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As, tasted once, no more Afield</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We fare where Youth holds carnival.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Farewell, fair Fields, none found amiss</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When laughter was a frequent noise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And golden-hearted girls and boys</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Appraised the mouth they meant to kiss.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Farewell, farewell! but for a space</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We, being young, Afield might stray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That in our Garden nod and say,</div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Afield is no unpleasant place</i>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="79"> + 79 + <br> + THE CAVERN OF PHIGALIA + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Adytum of Demeter Melænis</i>) +</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">I enter,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proud and erect:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I take my fill of delight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Imperiously, irrationally.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And none punishes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">—Not yet.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">But in three months</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in three months</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in three more months,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The avenger comes forth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And mocks me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By being as I am,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Visibly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And by being foredoomed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To do as I have done,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Inevitably.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="80"> + 80 + <br> + AT PARTING + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Thus then I end my calendar</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Of ancient loves more light than air;—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And now Lad’s Love, that led afar</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>In April fields that were so fair,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Is fled, and I no longer share</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Sedate unutterable days</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>With Heart’s Desire, nor ever praise</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Félise, or mirror forth the lures</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Of Stella’s eyes nor Sylvia’s,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Yet love for each loved lass endures.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Chloris is wedded, and Ettarre</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Forgets; Yolande loves otherwhere,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And worms long since made bold to mar</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The lips of Dorothy and fare</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Mid Florimel’s bright ruined hair;</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And time obscures that roseate haze</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Which glorified hushed woodland ways</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>When Phyllis came, as time obscures</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>That faith which once was Phyllida’s,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Yet love for each loved lass endures.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>That boy is dead as Schariar,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Tiglath-pileser, or Clotaire,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Who once of love got many a scar.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>And his loved lasses past compare?—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>None is alive now anywhere.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Each is transmuted nowadays</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Into a stranger, and displays</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>No whit of love’s investitures.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>I let these women go their ways,</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Yet love for each loved lass endures.</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Heart o’ My Heart, thine be the praise</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>If aught of good in me betrays</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Thy tutelage—whose love matures</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Unmarred in these more wistful days,—</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Yet love for each loved lass endures.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Explicit</span> +</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"></div><div class="transnote"> +<blockquote> +<p>Transcriber’s note:</p> + + +<p>Obvious errors have been silently corrected in this version, but minor +inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained as printed.</p> +</blockquote> +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78264 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78264-h/images/cover.jpg b/78264-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa22d97 --- /dev/null +++ b/78264-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, 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. 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