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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78947 ***
+
+[Illustration: Sepia-toned profile portrait of Thomas Gordon Hake with
+short hair and sideburns, facing right, dated 1872]
+
+
+
+
+ THE POEMS OF THOMAS GORDON HAKE
+ SELECTED
+ WITH A PREFATORY NOTE BY
+ ALICE MEYNELL
+ AND A PORTRAIT BY
+ DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI
+
+
+ LONDON: ELKIN MATHEWS AND
+ JOHN LANE
+
+ CHICAGO: STONE AND KIMBALL
+ 1894
+
+
+ _Of this edition 500 copies have been printed for England_
+
+
+ Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty
+
+
+
+
+ PREFATORY NOTE
+
+
+The Poems in this collection are chosen from volumes published at
+intervals over more than fifty years—among them _The Piromides_, issued
+in 1839, _Madeline_, reviewed by Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the _Academy_
+in 1871; _Parables and Tales_, to which Rossetti gave a _Fortnightly
+Review_ article in 1873; down to _The New Day_, dated 1890; together
+with verses which will be new even to the readers of the hitherto
+published works.
+
+Dr. Hake has a solemn and distinct note, little confusible with the
+other notes of the concerted song of poets. Only nine years younger than
+the century, he inherited, by right of his time and place, a tradition
+of deep composure—poetry aloof from the peril of excitement which knows
+neither how to contain nor how to express itself. Dr. Hake’s expression
+always implies long intention, deliberate decision. The verse is a
+consequence long foreseen.
+
+The emotion of moments lacks indeed no swiftness of passage, but we are
+made aware that it had a past of experience and has a future of power.
+It was not a gust born of the moment and then no more. Poetic passion
+must be like a wind; thou canst not tell whence it cometh nor whither it
+goeth; but surely it appeared with an approach and disappeared with a
+departure; it was a thing of transitory phase, but not of transitory
+life. Essentially durable and spiritual is the passion of those
+infrequent poems in which this poet, raising himself from the attitude
+of meditation, gathers his word into intenser action.
+
+He has emotion which is thus proved true. For the proof of the
+authenticity of his thought, also, the reader will look into his own
+experience as he reads.
+
+ Il poeta mi disse: Che pense?
+
+The question which Virgil asked of Dante is a poet’s question. The world
+takes it as generally the reader’s question; but it is emphatically the
+poet’s. Now, the thought to which Dr. Hake appeals in his reader’s mind
+is unquestionably not an easy nor an obvious one. In saying this we
+assign to the reader of poetry some part of the writer’s responsibility,
+some part of his honour. Or, if this is too much to say, the reader is
+at any rate responsible for choosing his poet. And if a poet is worth
+reading at all, he is to be trusted both with the importance and with
+the distinctness of his own thought.
+
+The exceeding solemnity of what we have called Dr. Hake’s note—and it is
+as indescribable and as peculiar as the note of a voice—suggests a
+further meaning, even an allegory, where in fact he had no intention of
+proposing anything beyond the text. The more does this illusion occur,
+perhaps, because Dr. Hake tells a story—a story of events—in most
+meditative stanzas. He writes movingly of dreams and sleep; and his
+study of these has added to all or almost all his verse something of the
+ecstasy of dreams.
+
+ ALICE MEYNELL.
+
+_February 1894._
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS
+
+
+ PAGE
+ ALONE 1
+ OLD SOULS 8
+ VENUS URANIA 16
+ THE CRIPPLE 17
+ THE INFANT MEDUSA 28
+ THE LILY OF THE VALLEY 29
+ THE LOVER’S DAY 45
+ THE DEADLY NIGHTSHADE 47
+ FLOWERS ON THE BANK 57
+ THE BLIND BOY 59
+ WHEN I THINK OF THEE, BROTHER 72
+ ECCE HOMO! 74
+ THE SNAKE CHARMER 80
+ PYTHAGORAS 88
+ THE FIRST SAVED 95
+ REMINISCENCE 101
+ THE SHEPHERDESS 110
+ FAREWELL TO NATURE 117
+ THE POET’S FEAST 121
+ THE EXILE 122
+ THE SIBYL 133
+ THE PAINTER 135
+ THE SUN-WORSHIPPER 139
+ THE INSCRUTABLE 145
+ THE WEDDING RING 149
+ LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR DEAD 152
+ THE GOLDEN WEDDING 154
+
+
+
+
+ ALONE
+
+
+ Loved, wedded, and caressed,
+ Although her children died
+ She still seemed doubly blest,
+ Her helpmate at her side
+ More dear than all the rest!
+
+ But sorrow did not kill
+ The thought of those so dear,
+ Who all her feelings fill,
+ As though still with her here
+ To play about her still.
+
+ Her little children’s fate
+ She never could recall,
+ Yet lived she desolate,
+ For she had lost them all,—
+ And then she lost her mate.
+
+ When came that hour of woe
+ And all she loved was gone,
+ Not sorrow’s keenest blow
+ Left her fond heart alone;
+ No parting could it know.
+
+ Nigh her he still appears,
+ The early times so cling;
+ Her simple heart still hears
+ Her children laugh and sing
+ As in the happy years.
+
+ The dead to her remain;
+ She heeds each gentle sound
+ Of theirs within her brain,
+ And answers smiling round:
+ ‘Sweet love, say that again!’
+
+ Is it that angels dwell
+ In that lone mother’s breast?
+ She knows not what befell,
+ And so is doubly blest:
+ No more her heart can tell.
+
+
+
+
+ OLD SOULS
+
+
+ I
+
+ The world, not hushed, lay as in trance;
+ It saw the future in its van,
+ And drew its riches in advance,
+ To meet the greedy wants of man;
+ Till length of days, untimely sped,
+ Left its account unaudited.
+
+
+ II
+
+ The sun, untired, still rose and set,—
+ Swerved not an instant from its beat:
+ It had not lost a moment yet,
+ Nor used in vain its light and heat;
+ But, as in trance, from when it rose
+ To when it sank, man craved repose.
+
+
+ III
+
+ A holy light that shone of yore
+ He saw, despised, and left behind:
+ His heart was rotting to the core
+ Locked in the slumbers of the mind
+ Not beat of drum, nor sound of fife,
+ Could rouse it to a sense of life.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ A cry was heard, intoned and slow,
+ Of one who had no wares to vend:
+ His words were gentle, dull, and low,
+ And he called out, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+ He peddled on from door to door,
+ And looked not up to rich or poor.
+
+
+ V
+
+ His step kept on as if in pace
+ With some old timepiece in his head,
+ Nor ever did its way retrace;
+ Nor right nor left turned he his tread
+ But uttered still his tinker’s cry
+ To din the ears of passers-by.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ So well they knew the olden note
+ Few heeded what the tinker spake,
+ Though here and there an ear it smote
+ And seemed a sudden hold to take;
+ But they had not the time to stay,
+ And it would do some other day.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ Still on his way the tinker wends,
+ Though jobs be far between and few;
+ But here and there a soul he mends
+ And makes it look as good as new.
+ Once set to work, once fairly hired,
+ His dull old hammer seems inspired.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ Over the task his features glow;
+ He knocks away the rusty flakes;
+ A spark flies off at every blow;
+ At every rap new life awakes.
+ The soul once cleansed of outward sins,
+ His subtle handicraft begins.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ Like iron unannealed and crude,
+ The soul is plunged into the blast;
+ To temper it, however rude,
+ ’Tis next in holy water cast;
+ Then on the anvil it receives
+ The nimblest stroke the tinker gives.
+
+
+ X
+
+ The tinker’s task is at an end:
+ Stamped was the cross by that last blow.
+ Again his cry, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+ Is heard in accents dull and low.
+ He pauses not to seek his pay,—
+ That too will do another day.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ One stops and says, ‘This soul of mine
+ Has been a tidy piece of ware,
+ But rust and rot in it combine,
+ And now corruption lays it bare.
+ Give it a look: there was a day
+ When it the morning hymn could say.’
+
+
+ XII
+
+ The tinker looks into his eye,
+ And there detects besetting sin,
+ The decent old-established lie,
+ That creeps through all the chinks within.
+ Lank are its tendrils, thick its shoots,
+ And like a worm’s nest coil the roots.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ Like flowers that deadly berries bear,
+ His seed, if tended from the pod,
+ Had grown in beauty with the year,
+ Like deodara drawn to God;
+ Now like a dank and curly brake,
+ It fosters venom for the snake.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ The tinker takes the weed in tow,
+ And roots it out with tooth and nail;
+ His labour patient to bestow,
+ Lest like the herd of men he fail.
+ How best to extirpate the weed,
+ Has grown with him into a creed.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ His tack is steady, slow, and sure:
+ He plucks it out, despite the howl,
+ With gentle hand and look demure,
+ As cunning maiden draws a fowl.
+ He knows the job he is about,
+ And pulls till all the lie is out.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ ‘Now steadfastly regard the man
+ Who wrought your cure of rust and rot!
+ You saw him ere the work began:
+ Is he the same, or is he not?
+ You saw the tinker; now behold
+ The Envoy of a God of old.’
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ This said, he on the forehead stamps
+ A downward stroke and one across,
+ Then straight upon his way he tramps;
+ His time for profit, not for loss;
+ His task no sooner at an end
+ Than out he cries, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ As night comes on he enters doors,
+ He crosses halls, he goes upstairs,
+ He reaches first and second floors,
+ Still busied on his own affairs.
+ None stop him or a question ask;
+ None heed the workman at his task.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ Despite his cry, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+ Which into dull expression breaks,
+ Not moved are they, nor ear they lend
+ To him who from old habit speaks;
+ Yet does the deep and one-toned cry
+ Send thrills along eternity.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ He gads where out-door wretches walk,
+ Where outcasts under arches creep;
+ Among them holds his simple talk.
+ He lets them hear him in their sleep.
+ They who his name have still denied,
+ He lets them see him crucified.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ On royal steps he takes a stand
+ To light the beauties to the ball;
+ He holds a lantern in his hand,
+ And lets his simple saying fall.
+ They deem him but some sorry wit
+ Serving the Holy Spirit’s writ.
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ They know not souls can rust and rot,
+ And deem him, while he says his say,
+ The tipsy watchman who forgot
+ To call out ‘Carriage stops the way!’
+ They know not what it can portend,
+ This mocking cry, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ While standing on the palace stone,
+ He is in workhouse, brothel, jail;
+ He is to play and ball-room gone,
+ To hear again the beauties rail;
+ With tender pity to behold
+ The dead alive in pearls and gold.
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ In meaning deep, in whispers low
+ As bubble bursting on the air,
+ He lets the solemn warning flow
+ Through jewelled ears of creatures fair,
+ Who, while they dance, their paces blend
+ With his mild words, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+
+
+ XXV
+
+ And when to church their sins they take,
+ And bring them back to lunch again,
+ And fun of empty sermons make,
+ He whispers softly in their train;
+ And sits with them if two or more
+ Think of a promise made of yore.
+
+
+ XXVI
+
+ Of those who stay behind to sup,
+ And in remembrance eat the bread,
+ He leads the conscience to the cup,
+ His hands across the table spread.
+ When contrite hearts before him bend,
+ Glad are his words, ‘Old souls to mend.’
+
+
+ XXVII
+
+ The little ones before the font
+ He clasps within his arms to bless;
+ For Childhood’s pure and guileless front
+ Laughs back his own sweet gentleness.
+ ‘Of such,’ he says, ‘my kingdom is,
+ For they betray not with a kiss.’
+
+
+ XXVIII
+
+ He goes to hear the vicars preach:
+ They do not always know his face,
+ Him they pretend the way to teach,
+ And, as one absent, ask his grace.
+ Not then his words, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+ Their spirits pierce or bosoms rend.
+
+
+ XXIX
+
+ He goes to see the priests revere
+ His image as he lay in death:
+ They do not know that he is there;
+ They do not feel his living breath,
+ Though to his secret they pretend
+ With incense sweet, old souls to mend.
+
+
+ XXX
+
+ He goes to hear the grand debate
+ That makes his own religion law;
+ But him the members, as he sate
+ Below the gangway, never saw.
+ They used his name to serve their end,
+ And others left old souls to mend.
+
+
+ XXXI
+
+ Before the church-exchange he stands,
+ Where those who buy and sell him, meet:
+ He sees his livings changing hands,
+ And shakes the dust from off his feet.
+ May be his weary head he bows,
+ While from his side fresh ichor flows.
+
+
+ XXXII
+
+ From mitred peers he turns his face.
+ Where priests convoked in session plot,
+ He would remind them of his grace
+ But for his now too humble lot;
+ So his dull cry on ears devout
+ He murmurs sadly from without.
+
+
+ XXXIII
+
+ He goes where judge the law defends,
+ And takes the life he can’t bestow,
+ And soul of sinner recommends
+ To grace above, but not below;
+ Reserving for a fresh surprise
+ Whom it shall meet in Paradise.
+
+
+ XXXIV
+
+ He goes to meeting, where the saint
+ Exempts himself from deadly ire,
+ But in a strain admired and quaint
+ Consigns all others to the fire,
+ While of the damned he mocks the howl,
+ And on the tinker drops his scowl.
+
+
+ XXXV
+
+ Go here, go there, they cite his word,
+ While he himself is nigh forgot.
+ He hears them use the name of Lord,
+ He present though they know him not.
+ Though he be there, they vision lack,
+ And talk of him behind his back.
+
+
+ XXXVI
+
+ Such is the Church and such the State.
+ Both set him up and put him down,—
+ Below the houses of debate,
+ Above the jewels of the crown.
+ But when ‘Old souls to mend!’ he says,
+ They send him off about his ways.
+
+
+ XXXVII
+
+ He is the humble, lowly one,
+ In coat of rusty velveteen,
+ Who to his daily work has gone;
+ In sleeves of lawn not ever seen.
+ No mitre on his forehead sticks:
+ His crown is thorny, and it pricks.
+
+
+ XXXVIII
+
+ On it the dews of mercy shine;
+ From heaven at dawn of day they fell;
+ And it he wears by right divine,
+ Like earthly kings, if truth they tell;
+ And up to heaven the few to send,
+ He still cries out, ‘Old souls to mend!’
+
+
+
+
+ VENUS URANIA
+
+
+ Is this thy Paphos,—the devoted place
+ Where rests, in its own eventide, thy shrine?
+ To thee not lone is solitude divine
+ Where love-dreams o’er thy waves each other chase
+ And melt into the passion of thy face!
+ The twilight waters, dolphin-stained, are thine;
+ The silvery depths and blue, moon-orbed, entwine,
+ And in bright films thy rosy form embrace,—
+ Girdling thy loins with heaven-spun drapery
+ Wove in the looms of thy resplendent sea.
+ The columns point their shadows to the plain
+ And ancient days are dialed o’er again;
+ The floods remember: falling at thy feet,
+ Upon the sands of time they ever beat.
+
+
+
+
+ THE CRIPPLE
+
+
+ I
+
+ A brook beneath the hill-side flows
+ Amid the downs, whose chalky sweep
+ A scant though tender herbage grows,
+ Cropped close by scattered flocks of sheep.
+ And there a group of huts is seen
+ Dotted along a village green.
+
+
+ II
+
+ Yet, buildings of a statelier look
+ That poor sequestered valley grace:
+ An inn beside the village brook;
+ A church beside the burial-place.
+ Save at the park, the trees are few;
+ Still the old graveyard has its yew.
+
+
+ III
+
+ Beyond the park, the ring-dove’s haunt,
+ Red bricks insult the smokeless sky:
+ There stands the workhouse, bare and gaunt,
+ Like the drear soul of poverty,
+ And frowns upon a mossy fen,
+ Where willows crouch like agéd men.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ All life surrounds the roadside inn,
+ The home of welcome and good cheer,
+ Where barmaid scores the gill of gin
+ And oft-repeated pot of beer:
+ Unlike the fashion of the town—
+ To drink and fling the money down.
+
+
+ V
+
+ The wife, with eggs and milk for sale,
+ Wrapt in the coat of her good man,
+ Stops there and takes her drop of ale
+ While waiting for her empty can,
+ And, nodding at the landlord’s sport,
+ Keeps for the last her smart retort.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ The goodman, always on his mare,
+ Stops with familiar nod and wink,
+ And bids the landlord with him share
+ His amber draught of foamy drink;
+ With chuckling joke concludes his say,
+ And laughs when out of hearing’s way.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ There with his team the carter stays,
+ The water-trough his horses find;
+ Worn out himself, he little says—
+ No fun has he to leave behind.
+ Dull to the merry toper’s call,
+ His team he follows to their stall.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ The squire, addicted not to chat,
+ But seldom draws the rein or speaks;
+ Seeing the landlord touch his hat,
+ Into a quiet trot he breaks;
+ Though at election, oft he stops
+ To praise the children and the crops.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ Between the horse-trough and the door
+ A widow’s son was wont to stand.
+ He was a cripple, crutched and poor,
+ Yet always ready with a hand,
+ Pleased when on trifling errands sent,
+ With little recompense content.
+
+
+ X
+
+ So oft a copper coin the boy
+ Would earn, that helped to buy him bread,
+ Too glad to get a light employ:
+ The parish all his mother’s dread.
+ Hard had she worked to earn him food
+ Through all her weary widowhood.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ More did that mother love her son
+ Than had he been the fairest born;
+ He was her pride to look upon,
+ Though shrunk of limb and feature worn:
+ May be she loved him all the more
+ For that his legs were crookt and sore.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ As a wrecked vessel on the sand,
+ The cripple to his mother clung:
+ Close to the tub he took his stand
+ While she the linen washed and wrung;
+ And when she hung it out to dry
+ The cripple still was standing by.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ When she went out to char, he took
+ His fife, to play some simple snatch
+ Before the inn hard by the brook,
+ While for the traveller keeping watch,
+ Against the horse’s head to stand,
+ Or hold its bridle in his hand.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ Sometimes the squire his penny dropped
+ Upon the road for him to clutch,
+ Which, as it rolled, the cripple stopped,
+ Striking it nimbly with his crutch.
+ The groom, with leathern belt and pad,
+ E’en found a copper for the lad.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ The farmer’s wife her hand would dip
+ Down her deep pocket with a sigh;
+ Some halfpence in his hand would slip,
+ When there was no observer nigh;
+ Or give him apples for his lunch,
+ That he loved leisurely to munch.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ But for the farmer, what he made,
+ At market table he would spend,
+ And boys who used not plough or spade
+ Had got the parish for their friend;
+ He paid his poor rates to the day,
+ So let the boy ask parish-pay.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ Yet would the teamster feel his fob,
+ The little cripple’s heart to cheer,
+ Himself of penny pieces rob,
+ That he begrudged to spend in beer;
+ His boy, too, might be sick or sore,
+ So gave he of his thrifty store.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ A sheep-worn walk along the brook
+ The cripple loved, for there the gush
+ Of water thralled him as it shook
+ The ragged roots of the green rush,
+ Which with its triple flowers of pink
+ Stood ripe for gathering at the brink.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ The heather bristles round the knoll,
+ Where inlaid moss and leaflets blend:
+ ’Tis there he sits and ends his stroll,
+ His crutch beside him as his friend,
+ And looks upon the other bank,
+ Where blue forget-me-not grows rank;
+
+
+ XX
+
+ Where purple loosestrife paints the sedge;—
+ Where bryony and yellow bine,
+ Locked in blush-bramble, climb the hedge,
+ And white convolvulus enshrine.
+ Nestled in leaves, they all appear
+ Each other’s flowers to nurse and rear.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ There mused he like a child of yore—
+ By Nature’s simple teachings led;
+ The cog and wheel of human lore
+ Not yet were stirring in his head;
+ The Shaper of his destiny
+ He felt was smiling from the sky.
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ There with soft notes his fife he fills,
+ A mere tin plaything from the mart,
+ But his thin fingers as it thrills,
+ To that poor toy a grace impart,
+ While it obeys his lips’ control,
+ And is a crutch unto his soul.
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ At church he longed his fife to try,
+ Where oboe gave its doleful note,
+ Where fiddle scraped harsh melody,
+ Where bass the rustic vitals smote.
+ Such old-day music was in vogue,
+ And psalms were sung in village brogue.
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ His cheerful ways gave many cause
+ For wonder; such ill-founded joy
+ To others’ mirth would give a pause:
+ His soul seemed lent him for a toy,
+ Though on his infant face was age
+ To mark him for life’s latter stage.
+
+
+ XXV
+
+ Dead is his crutch on moping days—
+ ’Tis so they call his sickly fits,
+ When by his side his crutch he lays,
+ And in the chimney-corner sits,
+ Hobbling in spirit near the yew
+ That in the village churchyard grew.
+
+
+ XXVI
+
+ Ah! it befell at harvest-time,—
+ Such are the ways of Providence,—
+ That the poor widow in her prime
+ Was fever-struck, and hurried hence;
+ Then did he wish indeed to lie
+ Between her arms and with her die.
+
+
+ XXVII
+
+ Who shall the cripple’s woes beguile?
+ Who earn the bread his mouth to feed?
+ Who greet him with a mother’s smile?
+ Who tend him in his utter need?
+ Who lead him to the sanded floor?
+ Who put his crutch behind the door?
+
+
+ XXVIII
+
+ Who set him in his wadded chair,
+ And after supper say his grace?
+ Who to invite a loving air
+ His fife upon the table place?
+ Who, as he plays, her eyes shall lift
+ In wonder at a cripple’s gift?
+
+
+ XXIX
+
+ Who ask him all the news that chanced—
+ Of farmer’s wife in coat and hat,
+ Of squire who to the city pranced—
+ To draw him out in lively chat?
+ This flood of love, now but a surf
+ Left on a nameless mound of turf.
+
+
+ XXX
+
+ Some it made sigh, and some made talk,
+ To see the guardian of the poor
+ Call for the boy to take a walk,
+ And lead him to the workhouse door:
+ With lifted hands and boding look
+ They watched him cross the village brook.
+
+
+
+
+ THE INFANT MEDUSA
+
+ BY POSEIDON
+
+
+ I loved Medusa when she was a child,
+ Her rich brown tresses heaped in crispy curl
+ Where now those locks with reptile passion whirl,
+ By hate into dishevelled serpents coiled.
+ I loved Medusa when her eyes were mild,
+ Whose glances, narrowed now, perdition hurl,
+ As her self-tangled hairs their mass unfurl,
+ Bristling the way she turns with hissings wild.
+
+ Her mouth I kissed when curved with amorous spell,
+ Now shaped to the unuttered curse of hell,
+ Wide open for death’s orbs to freeze upon;
+ Her eyes I loved ere glazed in icy stare,
+ Ere mortals, lured into their ruthless glare,
+ She shrivelled in her gaze to pulseless stone.
+
+
+
+
+ THE LILY OF THE VALLEY
+
+
+ I
+
+ There was a wood, it does not change,
+ Not while the thrush pipes through its glades,
+ And she who did its thickets range
+ Has willed her sunbeam to its shades.
+ There still the lily weaves a net
+ With bluebell, primrose, violet.
+
+
+ II
+
+ The wood is what it was of old,
+ A timber-farm where wildflowers grow.
+ There woodman’s axe is never cold,
+ That lays the oaks and beeches low.
+ But though the hand of man deface,
+ The lily ever grows in grace.
+
+
+ III
+
+ Of loving natures, proudly shy,
+ The stock-doves sojourn in the tree,
+ With breasts of feathered cloud and sky,
+ And notes of soft though tuneless glee:
+ Hid in the leaves they take a spring,
+ And crush the stillness with their wing.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ The wood is deep-boughed, and its glade
+ Has ruts of waggon to and fro;
+ Yet where the print of wheel is made
+ The bracken ventures still to grow;
+ And where the foot of man may goad,
+ The ants are toiling with their load.
+
+
+ V
+
+ The wood, even old in olden days,
+ No longer alters with the year.
+ The gnarléd boughs, to Nature’s ways
+ Inured, their honours mildly bear.
+ And she who there has fixed her beam
+ Is still remembered as a dream.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ There many a legend of the wood
+ Has hovered from the olden time,
+ When, with their sooths and sayings good,
+ Men told not of its youth or prime.
+ The hollow trunks were hollow then,
+ And honoured like the bones of men.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ There like nine brethren, Nature’s own,
+ Nine trees within a circle stand,
+ And to a temple’s shape have grown,
+ Each trunk a column tall and grand.
+ And, there, a raven-oak uprears
+ Its dome that whitens with the years.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ ’Mid these, while on the earth at play,
+ She, the true beam of living spring,
+ The playmate of the lily’s ray,
+ Learnt of the piping thrush to sing.
+ The lily’s leaves were then her nest,
+ Its buds half-nestled in her breast.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ To her whose beam was lily-bright
+ ’Neath brakes that hide the sky above,
+ A primrose seemed a holy sight:
+ Loveless itself, it taught her love.
+ It was her welcome to the bowers,
+ And lured her fingers to its flowers.
+
+
+ X
+
+ Not yet to her was Nature’s age
+ In gnarled and hollow shapes revealed:
+ The buds and leaflets stamped her page,
+ And all that Death could say concealed.
+ To gnarled and hollow Nature cold,
+ She had not caught the sense of old.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ When folk who gossiped thereabout
+ Asked the child’s name,—the child so pale,—
+ With looks that gave a sweetness out,
+ She answered, ‘Lily of the Vale.’
+ Not then her eyes had dew-drops shed
+ In early tribute to the dead.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ Alas! her parents came to die;
+ She was not then too young to weep.
+ Through all the wood was heard her cry;
+ Till with her sobs she fell asleep,
+ And o’er her slumber shot those beams
+ That with a shiver visit dreams.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ The lilies in their nest had died,
+ Violets were closed, their petals crushed,
+ The bracken-stalks were parched and dried,
+ The flowers she loved no longer blushed.
+ Towards sorrow did her soul ascend;
+ Her dawn of joys was at an end.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ The oak spread o’er her troubled sleep,
+ She sees a gnarled and hollow form
+ Whose riven branches seem to creep,—
+ Loosed from their long-enchanted storm,
+ And like a phantom in the air
+ It sets on her its naked stare.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ That oak she oft had seen before,
+ And in its empty cell had played,
+ But felt not it was bald and hoar
+ With the green ivy o’er it laid.
+ Now have those thoughtless moments flown
+ And with the oak she is alone.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ Then she beheld o’ersnowed with age,
+ Her grandsire trembling in the wind,
+ Smiling on her, his heritage,
+ The child his son had left behind.
+ Old was she now, for she could see
+ Her grandsire agéd like the tree.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ As flowers her eager heart once fired
+ With love for things that came and passed,
+ These visions in her soul inspired
+ An awe of sadder things that last:
+ The sire by age and trouble bent,
+ The tree by storm and lightning rent.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ Sleep left her, but her startled gaze
+ Met not the sire beside the oak
+ There standing in its leafless maze
+ As in her dream, when she awoke.
+ Where was the sire? She could not see
+ The face that smiled beside the tree.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ And then she towards the cottage ran,
+ There was the sire in his retreat,
+ There was he still,—the agéd man,—
+ Calm-sitting on his mossy seat,
+ And of her dream, as true, she spoke
+ While resting ’neath the raven-oak.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ He told her how the raven reared
+ Her young ones on the leafy crest,
+ And now the oak by lightning seared
+ Could give no shelter for a nest.
+ With this her simple thoughts he led
+ To how the bird the prophet fed.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ Then did she feel that he was poor;
+ That on a scanty crust he fared.
+ She longed to see within his door
+ The frugal meal she oft had shared,
+ And prayed the raven in her need
+ To do for them the loving deed.
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ Through every grove she poured her lay,
+ This drooping Lily of the Vale;
+ As through the brakes she took her way
+ She told the thrush her touching tale,
+ And bade it in her service press
+ The bird that waits on man’s distress.
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ So, like a creature on the wing,
+ She spoke her griefs to all she met.
+ The thrush had taught her how to sing
+ Soft notes to all things living set;
+ Conies that peeped from out the grass,
+ They had no fear and let her pass.
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ She thought the thrush with mellow song
+ Would answer to her simple strain,
+ She thought the other birds would throng
+ To bring the raven back again,
+ But not to her the raven sped
+ Who brought from heaven the prophet’s bread.
+
+
+ XXV
+
+ Meantime her grandsire day by day
+ Was hungered, hopeless though he smiled,
+ For he would hide his pains away
+ From her, the watchful, loving child.
+ She saw him sink upon his bed
+ Not by the kindly raven fed.
+
+
+ XXVI
+
+ Again through brake and bush she flew;
+ Beyond the wood there lay the field
+ And paths unknown broke on her view;
+ Must she to childish terror yield?
+ She looked at heaven and saw its scope,
+ Taught by her mother there was hope.
+
+
+ XXVII
+
+ And then she to her mother said,
+ ‘Can God the prophet’s raven spare?
+ For grandsire lies upon his bed,
+ And cannot earn his daily fare.
+ All father’s work he leaves undone,
+ And says I soon shall be alone.’
+
+
+ XXVIII
+
+ Then she went on and seemed to tread
+ The buoyant air that past her blew,
+ But cast her looks about in dread,
+ As o’er the footless path she flew.
+ At last she stayed to breathe her fear,—
+ All was so strange, and no one near.
+
+
+ XXIX
+
+ And then she to her father said,
+ ‘Can God the prophet’s raven spare?
+ For grandsire lies upon his bed,
+ And cannot earn his daily fare.
+ He leaves the work you left undone,
+ And says I soon shall be alone.’
+
+
+ XXX
+
+ Her slackening pace now plainly told
+ The way was long for timid feet.
+ She felt her heart no longer bold:
+ Oft she looked back her wood to greet.
+ Her wood from sight a moment gone,
+ She felt herself indeed alone.
+
+
+ XXXI
+
+ She stood where hills and valleys blend;
+ One struggle more, and heaven seemed nigh.
+ Beyond where fields and woods ascend,
+ She saw a mansion towering high,
+ A noble lady’s home, that seemed
+ To her the heaven of which she dreamed.
+
+
+ XXXII
+
+ ‘Could I,’ she thought, ‘that hill ascend,
+ Then should I see the lady’s face.
+ She lives above, where troubles end,
+ And I have found her heavenly place.
+ God gives her plenty for the poor,
+ Who come home laden from her door.’
+
+
+ XXXIII
+
+ She looked till flashed across her dreams
+ A sight that all her spirit fired;
+ A form behind the window gleams,—
+ Could it be she so long desired?
+ Through windows in that stately pile,
+ She thought she saw a human smile.
+
+
+ XXXIV
+
+ And then she to the lady said,
+ ‘Can God the prophet’s raven spare?
+ For grandsire lies upon his bed,
+ And cannot earn his daily fare.
+ All father’s work he leaves undone,
+ And says I soon shall be alone.’
+
+
+ XXXV
+
+ The mansion stood against the sun:
+ There long she looked for her reply.
+ The ball of fire whose course had run,
+ Filled with its red the western sky,
+ ’Twas awful to her childish sight:
+ She turned her troubled steps for flight.
+
+
+ XXXVI
+
+ Dared she but enter at the gate
+ To reach that mansion vast and fair,
+ Then could she all her tale relate
+ To that sweet lady dwelling there.
+ But all her little courage fled:
+ With fainting steps she homeward sped.
+
+
+ XXXVII
+
+ First slowly, then with swifter pace,
+ She outran terror at her heels,
+ As if to win with Death the race,
+ Whose shroud now brushing by she feels.
+ She starts at every rugged bank,
+ For with the sun her spirit sank.
+
+
+ XXXVIII
+
+ The orb, yet vast beyond the height,
+ Had set more early in the wood;
+ But o’er the trees the lingering light
+ Spread floating in a rosy flood.
+ The birds sank one by one to rest,
+ As pale and paler grew the west.
+
+
+ XXXIX
+
+ She spied her cot, O vision sweet!
+ A rushlight through the lattice flamed,
+ And threw its radiance at her feet,
+ As it the grudging twilight shamed.
+ Through diamond panes a glimpse to catch,
+ She held her finger on the latch.
+
+
+ XL
+
+ No sound, no breath she heard above,
+ Where grandsire in the garret lay.
+ But one was there whose looks of love,
+ ‘Poor little orphan,’ seemed to say.
+ She knew the chaplain’s kindly face;
+ The bearer of the lady’s grace.
+
+
+ XLI
+
+ ‘Where hast thou been, my darling maid?
+ Reply to one who likes thee well.’
+ ‘To fetch the raven home,’ she said;
+ ‘And him my grandsire’s wants to tell.
+ I stood beneath the raven-tree
+ And found no bird to succour me.’
+
+
+ XLII
+
+ ‘Why call the raven to thy door,
+ Thy little heart’s distress to share?’
+ ‘Because,’ said she, ‘the sire is poor,
+ And has not earned his daily fare.
+ All father’s work he leaves undone,
+ And says I soon shall be alone.’
+
+
+ XLIII
+
+ ‘To kiss thee, child, he would have stayed,
+ For oft he called thee to his side.
+ Where didst thou wander, little maid?’
+ ‘I went across the world so wide.
+ I looked at heaven and saw its scope,
+ Taught by my mother there was hope.
+
+
+ XLIV
+
+ ‘I looked for mother in the sky:
+ She taught me there my wants to tell;
+ I looked for father standing by,
+ For both among the happy dwell;
+ I cried to them with heart of care,
+ Can God the prophet’s raven spare?
+
+
+ XLV
+
+ ‘Then I came nigh a stately pile,
+ Where those who ask seek not in vain.
+ I looked, and saw a human smile,
+ And thought a lady looked again.
+ Through windows I beheld her face,
+ As she looked from her heavenly place.
+
+
+ XLVI
+
+ ‘And then I to the lady said,
+ “Can God the prophet’s raven spare?
+ For grandsire lies upon his bed,
+ And has not earned his daily fare.
+ My father’s work he leaves undone,
+ And says I soon shall be alone.”’
+
+
+ XLVII
+
+ ‘Thou art not all alone, my child;
+ Thy griefs that righteous lady hears:
+ She loves a spirit undefiled;
+ Her heart is open to thy tears.
+ Thy father’s work at last is done,
+ And thou shalt never be alone.’
+
+
+
+
+ THE LOVER’S DAY
+
+
+ I
+
+ Gorse-plains that flower their gold into the streams
+ Beneath the opal blossoms of the sky;
+ Sea-floods that weave their blue and purple seams;
+ White sails that lift the billows as they fly:
+ Not these in their abounding rapture vie
+ With love’s diviner dreams.
+
+
+ II
+
+ Those lovers tire not when the sun is pale;
+ No statelier awning than a bristled tree
+ With branches cedared by the salten gale,
+ Stretched back, as if with wings that cannot flee:
+ They linger, and the sun departs by sea;
+ He spreads his crimson sail.
+
+
+ III
+
+ They watch him as he piles his busy deck
+ With golden treasure; as his sail expands;
+ They see him sink; they gaze upon the wreck
+ Through the still twilight of the silvery sands.
+ One cloud is left to the deserted lands:
+ The blue-set moon’s cold fleck.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ They linger though the pageant hath gone by,
+ The opal cloud is lit o’er sea and plain;
+ The moon is full of one day’s memory,
+ And tells the tale of Nature o’er again,
+ Its glory mingled in the soul’s refrain
+ Under that lover’s sky.
+
+
+
+
+ THE DEADLY NIGHTSHADE
+
+
+ I
+
+ There was a haunt, it does not change,
+ Not while the fiend its path invades;
+ But he who did its alleys range
+ Has willed his penance to its shades.
+ There still the nightshade breathes its pest
+ On fallen spirits not at rest.
+
+
+ II
+
+ It is the haunt it was of yore,
+ A den where thieves and harlots creep,
+ Where Nature’s voice is heard no more,
+ Where guilt-stained men night-vigil keep,
+ And crimes like months afresh appear,—
+ Ere one runs out, another near.
+
+
+ III
+
+ A haunt where all in common share
+ The sleepless hour, the murderous toil;
+ Where Death on all has set his stare,
+ To drag them forth, to grasp their spoil:
+ Between their gallows and their den,
+ A hardening sight for other men.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ This is the charnel that doth hide
+ A frantic woman who at play
+ Has lost her wealth of virgin pride,
+ And reckless games her soul away;
+ Whose scarlet rags, deep-dyed, replace
+ The blushes of her maiden face.
+
+
+ V
+
+ A mother’s bitter hour sets in;
+ Wrecked on her breast the infant lies,
+ As if to perish for its sin,
+ There set adrift from human ties
+ Till its ear-piercing scream prevail
+ And sullen pity hush the wail.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ Where only shadows rise and set,
+ And love at morn awaketh not,
+ This child of woe his being met,
+ To share a loveless parent’s lot,
+ And at his birth his sentence meet
+ Before a mother’s judgment-seat.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ The mother moaning in the gloom
+ Laughed when a peaceful breath he drew,
+ Too conscious of his early doom.
+ On wounded wings the tidings flew,
+ On bosoms pitiless they fell:
+ ‘A child of heaven was born in hell!’
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ His place of birth the skies deplored,
+ No trees, no brooks, no meadows seen;
+ And still his heart those skies adored
+ Before he saw the fields were green.
+ Born amid broils, in squalor bred,
+ His soul knew not to where it sped.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ The child is taught through many a blow
+ To shed with sobs the beggar’s tear,
+ Reared as a prodigy of woe
+ That gentle women pay to hear.
+ And many listened and bestowed;
+ For younger tears had never flowed.
+
+
+ X
+
+ Held at his mother’s hand, he hung
+ A broken spray with misery’s drip;
+ And often to the ground he clung,
+ His passion bursting at his lip.
+ And still she dragged him o’er the stones,
+ Though tender was he to the bones.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ Her eyes of prey like fangs were laid
+ On all who gave a hurried look.
+ And while she whined for kindly aid,
+ She hid away the coin she took,
+ When suddenly she begged no more
+ And rushed within a slamming door.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ With nostrils spread, and eyes aflame,
+ Before the shrine of death she stands,
+ The infant by her, sick and lame,
+ The lava trembling in her hands.
+ She drinks it with a vengeful frown;
+ She feels the fiend of sorrow drown.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ Now in a prison left to rage,
+ She thirsts, she burns with vain desire
+ Her deadly sickness to assuage,
+ To quench its fiery pang in fire.
+ With what a mother sent to dwell,
+ This child of heaven reared up in hell!
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ Not far away from infancy—
+ Through weary time a single stage,
+ The livelong years had hustled by
+ But left him still of tender age,
+ When from his mother’s reach he fled,
+ Outside the doors to make his bed.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ Where odours wander, dank and foul,
+ Through crowded streets and alleys lone,
+ By day and night his footsteps prowl;
+ His wants, not many, asked by none:
+ The roads were new he hourly crossed,
+ Yet was his way not wholly lost.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ When hunger like a conscience cries,
+ He asks the needy to bestow,
+ Afraid to raise his drooping eyes
+ Except to those who famine know;
+ Such he believes their crust will break,
+ And share with him for pity’s sake.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ Hopeful, he glides into a den
+ Up whose dusk path a shudder flew,
+ And asks of sick, half-famished men
+ Whose strength no plenty could renew.
+ Yet with what startling oaths they rave
+ And bid him run his neck to save!
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ Still to the poor is his appeal,
+ And they his mild entreaty spurn:
+ Some whisper, Be a man and steal;
+ Some bid him to the gallows turn.
+ Child-like he credits all he hears,
+ And rests his troubled heart in tears.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ He rests,—but oft starts up in fear;
+ His mother’s driving shadow breaks
+ Upon his slumber unaware,
+ And sleep’s too light repast awakes
+ Where dreams the festive board have spread
+ And turned his sorrow into bread.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ Hope, ’mid those shapes of famine sent,
+ Smiles on him;—she is Childhood’s bride!
+ The mother’s image, o’er him bent,
+ Cannot the angel wholly hide,—
+ Not when her halo o’er him plays,
+ And all but hunger’s pang allays.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ How did he long for once to taste
+ Of the forbidden food whose smell
+ From cellar gratings ran to waste!
+ Gusts that the passing crowd repel.
+ As when a rose some maid regales,
+ The grateful vapour he inhales.
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ Less favoured than the dog outside,
+ He lingers by some savoury mass;
+ He watches mouths that open wide,
+ And sees them eating through the glass.
+ Oft his own lips he opes and shuts,
+ And sympathy his fancy gluts.
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ So, oft a-hungered has he stood,
+ And yarn of fasting fancy spun,
+ As wistfully he watched the food,
+ With one foot out prepared to run,
+ In vague misgiving of his right
+ To revel in the dainty sight.
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ Harmless, yet to the base akin,
+ He feels a blot no eye could see,
+ And drags his rags about his skin
+ To hide from view his pedigree.
+ He deems himself a thief by birth,
+ An alien on the teeming earth.
+
+
+ XXV
+
+ He begs not, but as in a trance
+ Admires the gay and wealthy throng;
+ But if the curious on him glance,
+ He is abashed and slinks along;
+ He cares no more, the spell once broke,
+ Scenes of false plenty to invoke.
+
+
+ XXVI
+
+ The man of charity beholds
+ His vagrant looks with pent-up grief;
+ He stops, reproves; he gently scolds,
+ But fails to give the child relief;
+ ‘So sad,’ he says, ‘to see them thrive
+ Who on another’s earnings live.’
+
+
+ XXVII
+
+ Then comes the child, this ill-sown seed,
+ To sweep the purlieus and the wynds,
+ But few bethink them of his need,
+ And scanty is the help he finds.
+ At times he walks upon his head:
+ A form of prayer for daily bread.
+
+
+ XXVIII
+
+ Now seem his days for sorrow made!
+ He hears that men on Sunday pray;
+ A world’s proud secret on parade
+ To him appears the Sabbath-day.
+ All have asked heaven to take their cares,
+ But hunger says for him his prayers.
+
+
+ XXIX
+
+ Some words have reached him such as jar
+ On sinners’ ears and seem devout;
+ They are but as a light from far,
+ They come from heaven and soon die out,
+ Too weak as yet to turn a spell
+ Wove in the alphabet of hell.
+
+
+
+
+ FLOWERS ON THE BANK
+
+
+ I
+
+ Flowers on the bank,—we pass and call them gay:
+ The primroses throw pictures to the mind,
+ The buttercups lag dazzlingly behind,
+ And daisy-friends we spy but do not say
+ A word of joy;—thoughts of them follow not,
+ And soon are they forgot.
+
+
+ II
+
+ What care we for wildflowers except their name?
+ Bright maidens at the sight in rapture start,
+ Which, as our smiles say, comes not from the heart:
+ Flowers dance not, sing not, all their ways are tame;
+ They love not, neither love in us inspire;
+ Nor blush when we admire.
+
+
+ III
+
+ Yet stay, the fingers of that panting child
+ Have culled for us the choice ones,—many a gem,—
+ Have set their lovely colours stem to stem
+ In her fond hands they are not tame or wild,
+ Nestled in fringy fern so changed appears
+ The little gift she bears!
+
+
+ IV
+
+ She gives herself, and she can dance and sing,
+ And she can love inspire and blush at praise;
+ The flowers are part of her, have caught her ways;
+ She gives herself who gives so sweet a thing.
+ And she is gone, with other thoughts than ours
+ Gathering fresh love and flowers.
+
+
+
+
+ THE BLIND BOY
+
+
+ I
+
+ In dark ascent the pine-clad hills
+ Repose on heaven their rocky crest.
+ Lit by the flash of falling rills
+ That in the valley-shadow rest,
+ Chafing in rainbow-spray that finds
+ Its sunshine in the gusty winds.
+
+
+ II
+
+ Clouds folded round the topmost peaks
+ Shut out the gorges from the sun:
+ ’Tis mid-day ere the early streaks
+ Of sunshine down the valley run;
+ But where the opening cliffs expand,
+ The early sea-light breaks on land.
+
+
+ III
+
+ Before the sun, like golden shields,
+ The clouds a lustre shed around;
+ Wild shadows gambol o’er the fields;
+ Tame shadows stretch upon the ground.
+ Towards noon the great rock-shadow moves,
+ And takes slow leave of all it loves.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ The beam-shot clouds dissolve apace;
+ Stray shades that linger like a scroll,
+ Draw nearer to their craggy base,
+ And in clefts and caverns roll;
+ The light falls down the rocky piles;
+ The vale a lake of glory smiles.
+
+
+ V
+
+ There dwell two orphans: Heaven ordains
+ The sister’s eyes shall live in light:
+ Her brother in the shade remains
+ When morning bursts upon her sight.
+ Sister and brother, far and wide
+ As one they wander side by side.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ When to the shore through woods and fields
+ The brother has a wish to stray,
+ The sister takes the hand he yields;
+ She by fond habit leads the way.
+ Skipping along, oft face to face,
+ Her hand directs his timid pace.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ The plains that strike the grey-white line
+ Where earth’s dim curve in distance fades;
+ The streams that near the dwelling shine;
+ The quiet meads; the rustling glades;
+ The sand-dunes waiting on the shore,
+ The sister’s eyes for him explore.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ ’Tis all his own, but her loved hand,
+ Her gentle voice, her sayings dear,
+ Are choicer gifts than all the land
+ That he inherits far and near,
+ For all his light is in her mind,—
+ The path he loses she can find.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ At early morn, embraced by her,
+ He sits within the shadow’s dip
+ To list to his sweet minister,
+ And paint his visions from her lip.
+ He sees the waters, earth, and skies
+ Only through her enchanted eyes.
+
+
+ X
+
+ Her eyes are bright, his now are blind;
+ All he once saw has passed away,
+ But her fond visions fill his mind,
+ And there disclose the dawn of day.
+ Her morning breaks upon his night,
+ Enlivened by her spirit’s light.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ She tells him how the mountains swell,
+ How rocks and forests touch the skies;
+ He tells her how the shadows dwell
+ In purple dimness on his eyes,
+ Whose tremulous orbs the while he lifts,
+ As round his smile their spirit drifts.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ More close around his heart to wind,
+ She shuts her eyes in childish glee,
+ ‘To share,’ she says, ‘his peace of mind;
+ To sit beneath his shadow-tree.’
+ So, half in play, the sister tries
+ To find his soul within her eyes.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ His hand in hers, she walks along
+ And leads him by the river’s brink;
+ She stays to catch the water’s song,
+ Closing her eyes with him to think.
+ His ear, more watchful than her own,
+ Had caught the ocean’s distant moan.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ ‘The river’s flow is bright and clear,’
+ The blind boy said, ‘and were it dark
+ We should no less its music hear:
+ Sings not at eventide the lark?
+ Still when the ripples pause, they fade
+ Upon my spirit like a shade.’
+
+
+ XV
+
+ ‘Yet, brother, when the river stops
+ And in the quiet bay is hushed,
+ E’en though its gentle murmur drops,
+ ’Tis bright as when by us it rushed;
+ Not like a shade, when heard no more,
+ Except beneath the wooded shore.’
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ Now the resounding beach, wave-swept,
+ Greets them; now silence softly bears
+ The likeness of the wave that leapt
+ Unseen, and broke upon their ears.
+ ‘Dear sister, tell me once again
+ The wonders of the sea’s domain!’
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ Down the moist sands she guides his way,
+ And gazes on the lonesome shores,
+ Where desultory waves at play,
+ Enthral her looks ere she explores
+ The far-off deep; ere those quick eyes
+ Rove o’er the waters, cliffs, and skies.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ ‘The farthest seas bend as a bow
+ Into the light, o’er-arching sky;
+ There, curdled breakers row on row
+ With scarce a motion, distant lie;
+ Or if one vanish from the rest,
+ It shows again its snowy crest.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ ‘But nearer, midway toward the sands,
+ I see long lines of billows creep;
+ One stops and into froth expands,
+ Then fades away upon the deep;
+ Close to the shore the waves contend,
+ And shouting reach the journey’s end.’
+
+
+ XX
+
+ While her bright tones upon him broke
+ The curtain from his soul was drawn;
+ His spirit quickened as she spoke,—
+ Then flashed as at a sudden dawn,
+ With visions of a world once known,
+ That for the moment seemed his own.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ ‘O tell me of the changing sky,
+ Sunless once more!’ ‘’Neath lovely blue,’
+ The sister says, ‘the clouds float by,
+ Of orange, white, and inky hue.
+ The shifting waves that cannot rest
+ Are ’neath the gusty breezes pressed.
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ ‘A cloud is loosened from the sun;
+ The sea’s sky-blue now skims the green,
+ Chasing the billows as they run
+ And drip their foam in troughs between.
+ Oh, could you see them as they roar,
+ Scooping away the glistening shore!’
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ ‘The waves,’ he said, ‘before me fall,
+ And memories of a long-lost light
+ From far-off mornings on me call,
+ And what I hear comes into sight.
+ The beauteous skies flash back again,
+ But, ah! the light will not remain!’
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ Awhile he pauses; as he stops,
+ Her little hand the sister moves
+ And pebbles on the water drops,
+ As it runs up the sandy grooves,
+ Or to her ear a shell applies,
+ With parted lips and dreaming eyes.
+
+
+ XXV
+
+ ‘That noise!’ said he, with lifted hand.
+ ‘The sea-gull’s scream and flapping wings,
+ Before the wind it flies to land,
+ And omens of a tempest brings.’
+ She tells him how the sea-bird pale
+ Whirls wildly on the coming gale.
+
+
+ XXVI
+
+ ‘And is the sea alone? Even now
+ I hear faint mutterings,—not the waves’;
+ It seems a murmur sweeping low
+ And hurrying through the distant caves.
+ I hear again that smothered tone,
+ As if the sea were not alone.’
+
+
+ XXVII
+
+ ‘Heaven slopes o’er us on every side,
+ And shuts us from the distant land.
+ The waters only here abide,
+ And we who sit upon the sand.
+ A porpoise revels in the spray,
+ And purple vapours veil the bay.
+
+
+ XXVIII
+
+ ‘Come, hasten,’ cries she, ‘to the woods
+ Where twisted boughs are thickly set,
+ For soon the rain must fall in floods:
+ Here is no shelter from the wet.
+ While like a sea the sky upheaves,
+ We’ll watch beneath the matted leaves.’
+
+
+ XXIX
+
+ ‘Stay, sister! Listen to that sound;—
+ It thunders—does the flash appear?’
+ ‘It lightens now, and, whirling round,
+ The gull dips low, as if in fear.’
+ The boy now turns his floating eyes,
+ Though not the way the sea-bird flies.
+
+
+ XXX
+
+ ‘The wind is balmy on my cheek,
+ But now I feel the rain-drop plash.
+ Let us,’ he said, ‘the woodland seek,
+ And hear it on the foliage dash.
+ On the ground-ivy we shall tread,
+ And through the grove its perfume spread.’
+
+
+ XXXI
+
+ And so they prattle as they leave
+ The sandy beach, in pensive mood,
+ His ear turned to the billow’s heave,
+ Her vision leaning on the wood,
+ While, as the honeysuckle clings,
+ About his neck her arm she flings.
+
+
+ XXXII
+
+ Better than she the blind boy hears
+ The whispers of the patient shore,
+ While yet the wave its crest uprears
+ To break once more,—and evermore.
+ Better than she the blind boy feels
+ The simple pictures she reveals.
+
+
+ XXXIII
+
+ Clapping her hands, she spies above
+ Rich elms, the turrets grey and old,—
+ But love of home was only love
+ When to her darling brother told.
+ Thus ever to his soul replies
+ The infant passion of her eyes.
+
+
+ XXXIV
+
+ While they return, the dwelling near,
+ One word must yet the sister say.
+ She lifts her voice: ‘O brother dear,
+ If good my eyes have been to-day,
+ Kiss them for every new delight
+ That kindles in your spirit’s sight!’
+
+
+ XXXV
+
+ Deep in his eyes the love-lights strove;
+ He clasped her in a close embrace:—
+ With lips that shook with grateful love
+ He kissed her eyes—he kissed her face—
+ He wept upon that tender brow;
+ ‘Dearest, the darkness leaves me now!
+
+
+ XXXVI
+
+ ‘I view all beauty through your eyes;
+ I see within, you see outside.
+ Your love has raised me to the skies,—
+ Once narrow,—lofty now and wide,
+ And not, as once, of sombre hue;
+ For I can dream the dark to blue.
+
+
+ XXXVII
+
+ ‘The upward-toiling hill; the stream;
+ The valley; the wide ocean’s sweep;
+ All take the colours of a dream,—
+ The glories of the land of sleep.
+ You are my soul, my eyes, my sight;
+ ’Tis dark no more, you are my light.’
+
+
+
+
+ WHEN I THINK OF THEE, BROTHER
+
+
+ I
+
+ When I think of thee, brother,
+ Is my heart not all thine?
+ Yet the face of another
+ Seems bending o’er mine.
+ I call thee by name, yet a name not thy own
+ Has whispered already its dear undertone.
+
+
+ II
+
+ When I think thine eyes greet me,
+ Their sweet flash of blue
+ Brings another’s to meet me
+ Of somberer hue;
+ And ever before me they seem to remain,
+ Though my heart but repines to behold thee again.
+
+
+ III
+
+ When I list, and would hear thee
+ Once more in our home,
+ And thy voice appears near me,
+ Another’s has come.
+ I dream of thee only, for thee only sigh,
+ Yet thy image forsakes me; another’s is nigh.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ When thy fond smiles come o’er me,
+ As in moments now flown,
+ There riseth before me
+ A look not thy own:
+ ’Tis thee I recall to my mind, O my brother!
+ Yet ever with thine comes the gaze of another.
+
+
+
+
+ ECCE HOMO!
+
+
+ I
+
+ He strikes his staff to find his way,
+ He feels but may not see the day.
+ The warm sun floods his sightless eyes
+ That tremble in answer to the skies:
+ Yet oft he stays as if to look
+ At memories of the scenes of yore,—
+ The vine and fig-tree at his door,
+ The pleasant places by the brook.
+
+
+ II
+
+ The voice within him sighs aloud,
+ When murmurs of a moving crowd
+ Fall on his ear; he breathes the dust
+ But, with a blind man’s sturdy trust,
+ He grasps his staff, and oft he cries,
+ ‘Who cometh here?’ A voice replies,
+ ‘O blind man, turn thy step aside,
+ ’Tis Christ!’
+
+
+ III
+
+ The name rings in his ears:
+ With flashing hopes and ashen fears,
+ There stands he breathless, startling all.
+ Some stop, some into ranks divide,
+ Their arms outspreading lest he fall.
+ He drops his staff, throws out his hands,
+ His fingers are creeping like things that see:
+ ’Mid all the multitude he stands
+ And shouts, ‘Have mercy, Lord, on me!’
+ His shaking beard, his tottering frame,
+ His eye-balls in their sockets turning,
+ His lips delirious with that name,—
+ O’er his blind face a look is burning
+ Of dreadful greed, with mouth agape,
+ Crazed for some good that may escape.
+ ‘Take my hand, some one; let me feel
+ His raiment only; it may heal.’
+
+
+ IV
+
+ Christ heard the blind man’s cry, and grieved
+ Because a soul in darkness heaved.
+ He said, ‘What seekest thou of Me?’
+ But in that presence came a fear:
+ The man held earthly blessings dear,
+ Yet more than all was heavenly light.
+ ‘Lord, that I may receive my sight,—
+ That I may my Redeemer see!’
+ Christ loved him and his anguish soothed.
+ He took his hand, He gently smoothed
+ The seams upon his wrinkled brow:
+ ‘Tell Me what thou beholdest now.’
+ ‘Men, dim as shaking trees, I see:
+ O Lord, I crave to look on Thee!’
+
+
+ V
+
+ Then said the Saviour, ‘Look afar.’
+ The blind man raised his dazèd eyes.
+ ‘I see, Lord, above Thee a new-risen star,—
+ And beneath it a babe in a manger lies.
+ Hoary men, kneeling, their gifts prefer:
+ Frankincense, gold, and sacred myrrh.
+ Now a mother, a father, a babe softly sleeping
+ By waters that dream where the lotus bloom reigns;
+ Shadows of evening over them creeping;
+ The broad moon breaking o’er palm-bearing plains,
+ Where the ibis croaks and the jackal cries,
+ And pyramids point to the purpling skies.’
+
+
+ VI
+
+ He pauses, still he looks afar.
+ He still beholds the guiding star,
+ And dreamlight of a sacred river
+ O’er his lone eyes seems still to quiver.
+ Sudden, as if the distant air
+ Stripped the blue curtain from the skies,
+ He sees prophetic nature bare,—
+ When, as with far-off voice, he cries—
+ ‘Lo! a face to heaven in agony gleaming,
+ Stained of sorrow, but soil-less of sin,
+ Sweat that is blood breaking and streaming
+ From brows that are throbbing of anguish within,—
+ Praying for those that do strip Him and scourge Him
+ As a cross on His quivering shoulders they place.
+ ’Neath its burden He sinks while they mock Him, they urge Him,
+ They crown Him with thorns, they spit in His face.
+ They are lifting Him, bruising Him, piercing Him, nailing Him
+ To the cross, that is dyed in a crimson flood.
+ See, the sun hides his head, see the vapour enveiling him,
+ Hark, the earth and the skies in the darkness bewailing Him
+ Who dieth for those that are shedding His blood.’
+
+
+ VII
+
+ He starts, a hand is on his brow.
+ He looks at Christ in meek surprise,
+ Tears gather in his new-lit eyes;
+ ‘’Tis He, the crucified!’ he cries:
+ ‘Yes, I behold the Saviour now!’
+ The adoring people kneel around;
+ The healed one sinks on the hallowed ground,
+ Then goes his way in silence and in awe;
+ For his unsullied eyes had seen
+ The sight that from the first had been,
+ The sight that nature like a prophet saw.
+
+
+
+
+ THE SNAKE CHARMER
+
+
+ I
+
+ The forest rears on lifted arms
+ Its leafy dome whence verdurous light
+ Shakes through the shady depths and warms
+ Proud trunk and stealthy parasite,
+ There where those cruel coils enclasp
+ The trees they strangle in their grasp.
+
+
+ II
+
+ An old man creeps from out the woods,
+ Breaking the vine’s entangling spell;
+ He thrids the jungle’s solitudes
+ O’er bamboos rotting where they fell;
+ Slow down the tiger’s path he wends
+ Where at the pool the jungle ends.
+
+
+ III
+
+ No moss-greened alley tells the trace
+ Of his lone step, no sound is stirred,
+ Even when his tawny hands displace
+ The boughs, that backward sweep unheard:
+ His way as noiseless as the trail
+ Of the swift snake and pilgrim snail.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ The old snake-charmer,—once he played
+ Soft music for the serpent’s ear,
+ But now his cunning hand is stayed;
+ He knows the hour of death is near.
+ And all that live in brake and bough,
+ All know the brand is on his brow.
+
+
+ V
+
+ Yet where his soul is he must go:
+ He crawls along from tree to tree.
+ The old snake-charmer, doth he know
+ If snake or beast of prey he be?
+ Bewildered at the pool he lies
+ And sees as through a serpent’s eyes.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ Weeds wove with white-flowered lily crops
+ Drink of the pool, and serpents hie
+ To the thin brink as noonday drops,
+ And in the froth-daubed rushes lie.
+ There rests he now with fastened breath
+ ’Neath a kind sun to bask in death.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ The pool is bright with glossy dyes
+ And cast-up bubbles of decay:
+ A green death-leaven overlies
+ Its mottled scum, where shadows play
+ As the snake’s hollow coil, fresh shed,
+ Rolls in the wind across its bed.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ No more the wily note is heard
+ From his full flute—the riving air
+ That tames the snake, decoys the bird,
+ Worries the she-wolf from her lair.
+ Fain would he bid its parting breath
+ Drown in his ears the voice of death.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ Still doth his soul’s vague longing skim
+ The pool beloved: he hears the hiss
+ That siffles at the sedgy rim,
+ Recalling days of former bliss,
+ And the death-drops, that fall in showers,
+ Seem honied dews from shady flowers.
+
+
+ X
+
+ There is a rustle of the breeze
+ And twitter of the singing bird;
+ He snatches at the melodies
+ And his faint lips again are stirred:
+ The olden sounds are in his ears;
+ But still the snake its crest uprears.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ His eyes are swimming in the mist
+ That films the earth like serpent’s breath;
+ And now—as if a serpent hissed—
+ The husky whisperings of Death
+ Fill ear and brain—he looks around—
+ Serpents seem matted o’er the ground.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ Soon visions of past joys bewitch
+ His crafty soul; his hands would set
+ Death’s snare, while now his fingers twitch
+ At tasselled reed as ’twere his net.
+ But his thin lips no longer fill
+ The woods with song; his flute is still.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ Those lips still quaver to the flute,
+ But fast the life-tide ebbs away;
+ Those lips now quaver and are mute,
+ But nature throbs in breathless play:
+ Birds are in open song, the snakes
+ Are watching in the silent brakes.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ In sudden fear of snares unseen
+ The birds like crimson sunset swarm,
+ All gold and purple, red and green,
+ And seek each other for the charm.
+ Lizards dart up the feathery trees
+ Like shadows of a rainbow breeze.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ The wildered birds again have rushed
+ Into the charm,—it is the hour
+ When the shrill forest-note is hushed,
+ And they obey the serpent’s power,—
+ Drawn, to its gaze with troubled whirr,
+ As by the thread of falconer.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ As ’twere to feed, on slanting wings
+ They drop within the serpent’s glare:
+ Eyes flashing fire in burning rings
+ Which spread into the dazzled air;
+ They flutter in the glittering coils;
+ The charmer dreads the serpent’s toils.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ While Music swims away in death
+ Man’s spell is passing to his slaves:
+ The snake feeds on the charmer’s breath,
+ The vulture screams, the parrot raves,
+ The lone hyena laughs and howls,
+ The tiger from the jungle growls.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ Then mounts the eagle—flame-flecked folds
+ Belt its proud plumes; a feather falls:
+ He hears the death-cry, he beholds
+ The king-bird in the serpent’s thralls,
+ He looks with terror on the feud,—
+ And the sun shines through dripping blood.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ The deadly spell a moment gone—
+ Birds, from a distant Paradise,
+ Strike the winged signal and have flown,
+ Trailing rich hues through azure skies:
+ The serpent falls; like demon wings
+ The far-out branching cedar swings.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ The wood swims round; the pool and skies
+ Have met; the death-drops down that cheek
+ Fall faster; for the serpent’s eyes
+ Grow human, and the charmer’s seek.
+ A gaze like man’s directs the dart
+ Which now is buried at his heart.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ The monarch of the world is cold:
+ The charm he bore has passed away:
+ The serpent gathers up its fold
+ To wind about its human prey.
+ The red mouth darts a dizzy sting,
+ And clenches the eternal ring.
+
+
+
+
+ PYTHAGORAS
+
+
+ I
+
+ ’Twas not the hour of death the Master feared:
+ He oft had died before, his soul had passed
+ Through many moulds, as each new cycle neared
+ Hoping the Golden Day had come at last.
+
+
+ II
+
+ But like a giant ’neath the weight of age
+ Hope was bowed down, and oft had ceased to see
+ Among the spheres the looked for heritage
+ Where rest the pure from earth’s illusions free.
+
+
+ III
+
+ Whither doth this metempsychosis tend?
+ Doubt stirs the heavy question in his breast.
+ All that begins is toiling towards its end;
+ Oblivion hath for all its day of rest.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ And when a universe of death absorbs
+ Into its hungry vortex all that is:
+ The compact colonies of settled orbs,
+ The untamed meteors of the free abyss;
+
+
+ V
+
+ And when, at length, the lamp of day is spent,
+ And the charred air of night supplants the skies,
+ What were the soul without its tenement,—
+ Without these feeling hands, these seeing eyes?
+
+
+ VI
+
+ Even the blest dawn he once had hoped to find
+ May rise while he in darkness dwells below;
+ Yes, all may fail him now; the troubled mind
+ May end at last, and not its ending know.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ Such were his thoughts, and while his death hour grew
+ They pressed into his heart such poignant pangs
+ As even the lordliest intellect subdue
+ When life, yet wavering, in the balance hangs.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ ’Tis past: A cycle’s lustres have run out,
+ And his unquickened soul in ashes sleeps,
+ Perturbed no longer by the wasting doubt,
+ Weak as a babe ere in the womb it leaps;
+
+
+ IX
+
+ Still as a vessel stranded by the tide
+ In shallows whereunto no waters drift,
+ Looming at anchor on its mouldering side
+ That neither winds disturb nor billows lift.
+
+
+ X
+
+ Yet throes half-stir the drowsings of the grave,
+ As when one turns in sleep with heavy sense
+ That what suspended being he may have
+ Is better, yet awhile, with Providence.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ But all is like the passing of a breath.
+ No eager promptings snatch the loosened thread
+ Wherein is meshed the memory of death:
+ He knows himself, but not that he is dead.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ Another cycle bears the cumbrous night
+ Unbroken, save as funeral clouds may roll
+ And for a moment cross the path of light:
+ So shines the ethereal darkness of his soul.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ Still through these mists of death the cycles shone,—
+ His soul benumbed, in utter silence hushed,
+ Advancing time-like through oblivion,
+ And pace for pace with all that o’er him rushed,—
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ When to his grave a sense of nature came,
+ But with no conscious meaning or surprise:
+ ’Twas the old flutter of the dying flame,
+ Tremulousness of being without eyes.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ At last a voice, familiar as to seem
+ His own, heard in his sleep and heeded not,
+ Broke through the patient whisper of his dream,
+ Remembered but to be as soon forgot.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ It presages some mighty morrow near
+ When his long baffled soul once more shall rise:
+ The muffled cycles fall upon his ear,
+ And his dust flutters with the centuries.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ Awake, Pythagoras, it seems to say,—
+ The looked-for morn is breaking o’er the earth:
+ It grows, it brightens to the perfect day;
+ Behold man’s resurrectionary birth!
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ His thoughts take shape, his pent-up senses move,
+ His soul looks out from that abysmal sleep.
+ Lo! shadows of the living world above
+ Before his eyes in dreamy pageant sweep.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ And in the midst there shone a god-like youth,
+ Who on his brow the Crown of Sorrow wore,
+ And there was meekness, innocence, and truth;—
+ Eidolon of his highest hope of yore.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ Hath it then come at last, the world of peace?
+ Hath he awakened to that ampler life
+ Where hate and lust of blood shall ever cease,
+ And all the bitter days of human strife?
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ The world is hushed: must then the cycles end
+ That ever deepen his immortal tomb?
+ The wondrous ladder must he re-ascend
+ To truths revolving round a virgin womb?
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ Even so it seems when, hark! the upper air
+ Rings to the battle’s rage—the soldier’s tread
+ Echoes above his tomb! In dark despair
+ He turns his face unto the silent dead.
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ The Master sleeps—the ages onward roll—
+ O twice nine stormy cycles since o’erpast!
+ Bore they through eddying lives and deaths a soul
+ Still dreaming towards its Golden Day at last?
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ The heavens are as they were, the sun, unworn,
+ Seems on the blue of yesterday to rest,
+ And drops below; but when shall come the morn
+ He dreamt of, when shall break that morrow blest?
+
+
+
+
+ THE FIRST SAVED
+
+
+ I
+
+ Lucilla lives in yon half-hidden star
+ Bowered in a dreamy, soft-skied, watery vale,
+ Where angels gather from bright worlds afar,
+ To see her face, and listen to her tale.
+
+
+ II
+
+ As if all sunset revelled in the air,
+ The rosy clouds float o’er her paradise,—
+ Home of the once lone daughter of despair
+ Who prayed through tears with ever downcast eyes.
+
+
+ III
+
+ The lucent hills pant in the azure beams,
+ Behind empurpled steeps that blend below
+ With trembling woods and crystal-bearing streams,
+ And in the sky-paved water-mirrors glow.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ As rising stars entangle in their spheres
+ All the blue ether round, her look of thought
+ Hangs in heaven’s light, where her sad life appears
+ A sunless vision in new sunshine wrought.
+
+
+ V
+
+ There doth she stand, bliss-stricken as by fear.
+ On one soft hand she rests her chin and cheek,
+ Paling with rapture ere the blush appear;
+ And lips in tremors whisper that would speak.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ ‘Yes, I am here, and Heaven is undefiled!
+ This sinless face and these all-loving eyes
+ God gave me when I was a little child,
+ Because I was to be in Paradise.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ ‘I heard a voice and slavery’s loosened bond
+ Fell from my soul, awaking me to die;
+ I looked into death’s mirror and beyond
+ I saw these halls of immortality.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ ‘My wounded heart lay in this bosom dead
+ Ere it had loved—yet oft as I did pray
+ That these wan hands might labour for their bread,
+ Hope only came to prayer but did not stay.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ ‘Sin compassed me, it was my deadly fate;
+ Yet lovely visions in the darkness came,
+ And I fled trembling to the Temple’s gate
+ But durst not cross the threshold for my shame.
+
+
+ X
+
+ ‘While on the Temple’s steps I sat in tears,
+ One came and spoke: I gazed and I adored!
+ Then did a voice that only woman hears
+ Whisper within: I listened, self-abhorred.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ ‘’Twas He whose image visited my sleep.
+ But still He spake to me in words that gave
+ A world, and had soul-echoes clear and deep
+ Which widened ever like the circling wave.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ ‘His image grew before my wondering mind—
+ His, ’mid whose many griefs my life began.
+ Enrapt I gazed, until my eyes were blind,
+ On Him who in His pity dies for man.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ ‘When the blest vision ceased, my eyes would droop
+ And in great dreams that holy Being meet;
+ Then would He clothe me, lowly would He stoop,
+ And with His hands anoint my weary feet.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ ‘Thenceforth He was the rock that safely drew
+ My heart to shelter, as the gentle shore
+ Receives the broken wave: to Him it flew
+ And the lulled sorrow beat on me no more.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ ‘Then o’er me flowed that stream of heavenly grace
+ Which all my infant innocence restored:
+ From that glad hour has rested on my face
+ This happy gaze of one who has adored.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ ‘The living Saviour had my heart enthralled!
+ I saw His face, in His blessed footsteps moved;
+ And in my dreams His holy word recalled;
+ I knew not who He was: I only loved.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ ‘Then did I but remember things to come,
+ The reveries of pure delights above;
+ Yes, to this blissful height my passion clomb,
+ And sin was silenced in the hush of love.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ ‘In that o’ershadowing trance till death I lay:
+ Peace weighed upon me like the Saviour’s kiss.
+ Towards the beloved my eyes would fondly stray
+ In sleeping rapture and awaking bliss.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ ‘Death with dis-shadowed hand had come betimes,
+ And bore my grave into the open skies.
+ And then I hearkened to the heavenly chimes
+ That cheered my soul’s ascent to Paradise.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ ‘My end seemed consummated in the clouds:
+ There with the purple morn my slumber broke;
+ But tempting spirits hovered round in crowds
+ And gathered like a storm as I awoke.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ ‘Upon the Temple’s highest pinnacle
+ The Saviour stood in glory like the sun.
+ The rapture of my soul was at the full:
+ Eternal life had unawares begun.
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ ‘He from that holy height upon me gazed;
+ The angels in His glorious presence trod:
+ With outstretched wings I rushed to them amazed
+ And flew into the open arms of God.’
+
+
+
+
+ REMINISCENCE
+
+
+ I
+
+ So you would leave me, little Rose?
+ Dear child, with all your mother’s ways;
+ That look she had in girlish days,
+ The look that with your beauty grows.
+
+
+ II
+
+ Oft when you bring her to my mind,
+ Before my heart has time for pain,
+ In you she seems to live again,
+ As though no sorrow were behind.
+
+
+ III
+
+ And when that happy, trustful gaze
+ Meets him you love, yet more I see
+ Your mother as she looked at me:
+ It is her own dear, watchful face.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ And when he takes your hand in his,
+ There flits across your lips and eyes
+ Her own pleased smile of half surprise:
+ It seems not like departed bliss.
+
+
+ V
+
+ Ah! what a heart-locked memory stirs—
+ I look, ’tis she, and you are gone!
+ Yes, though so many springs have flown,
+ Her peace remains, our love is hers.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ She sees your arms my neck enclose;
+ She sees your lips upon my brow.
+ No truer hour of love than now
+ Awaits your heart, my happy Rose!
+
+
+ VII
+
+ How they come back those days of old!
+ And now that ’tis your wedding-eve,
+ Now that for other scenes you leave,
+ One happy legend shall be told,—
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ Told in this home, this sunny vale
+ That for long years has been our own,
+ Sacred in days that long have gone
+ To many another lover’s tale.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ It was an hour like this, the sun
+ Was sinking, yet had far to go:
+ The richness of his overflow
+ Down river, wood, and pasture shone.
+
+
+ X
+
+ Two lovers in this porch had met
+ Where often they had met in play:
+ ’Twas on this memorable day—
+ As though that sun had never set.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ These grey-mossed tiles still ’neath it scorch;
+ The glare and shade still side by side
+ Aslant the mullioned casements glide
+ From yon old gable to the porch.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ A youth has hurried from these walls—
+ He stops, as in a day-dream stands:
+ His shadow with fast-folded hands
+ As from yon stone sun-dial falls.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ His eyes are full of one loved face
+ Sunk pallid in her fingers cleft;
+ The long-loved one who just had left
+ In timid haste his wild embrace.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ The love that with her childhood grew
+ Had still to her unruffled clung;
+ Engaging, playful, ever young,—
+ And without change was ever new.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ Not its glad pastimes she disowns;
+ He drew her to a higher love;
+ But while the pale emotion strove
+ She fled from his impassioned tones.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ Transparent isles of rushes bind
+ The rivers light with bars of green
+ That catch the water’s blue between,
+ To where it darkens in the wind.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ There lies his boat, and now the sun,
+ Still going westward with the stream,
+ Appears to tow him on his dream
+ As they advance in unison.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ Along the white and yellow meads,
+ Which buttercup and daisy share,
+ The crowding cattle idly stare
+ As he winds through the matted reeds.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ But her loved image fills his mind,
+ And, ever gazing at him, screens
+ His eyes from those long-happy scenes,
+ As he drifts by them, nature-blind.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ The white-flowered weed whose tresses float,
+ Combed by the stream and water-waved,
+ Seems her bright hair in crystal laved,
+ Struggling to overtake his boat.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ His sculls drip o’er the glossy wash:
+ The ripple of the mellow tide
+ He scarce feels o’er their edges glide;
+ He lists not for the thrilling plash,
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ But thinks, when last the tide he clove,
+ How bank-side elms before him flew,
+ And quiet lay the distant view
+ Of woodland hill where dwelt his love.
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ His memory holds it as the stream
+ Holds all the shining summer round:
+ The sky, the woods, the very sound
+ Of cuckoos chanting in a dream.
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ And how she loved the grey old bridge!
+ Those arches mirrored deep below,
+ That meet the pillars row to row,
+ Quivering from their ruffled ridge—
+
+
+ XXV
+
+ Three tunnels open to the skies!
+ The tasselled mosses as they float,
+ Now still, now heaving with the boat
+ That passes while the vision flies.
+
+
+ XXVI
+
+ As melt, with all the watery heaven,
+ Those arches hanging o’er a sky—
+ So in the quiet of a sigh
+ The yearnings of his soul seemed riven.
+
+
+ XXVII
+
+ The far-off boom of yonder weir
+ Now rushes down the narrowed day:
+ Like sirens battling with the spray,
+ Once came its music to her ear.
+
+
+ XXVIII
+
+ The sun now trembles like a ball
+ Heaven-forged and glittering in its blast;
+ A pale green halo round him cast—
+ Half quenched behind the waterfall.
+
+
+ XXIX
+
+ White streaks are creeping through the shade;
+ The moon climbs up the poplar trees:
+ But a loved form of light he sees,
+ As if her spirit walked the glade.
+
+
+ XXX
+
+ Well might it be, as since hath seemed,—
+ So holy are the vanished years.
+ But then her cheeks were under tears:
+ It was on them the moonlight gleamed.
+
+
+ XXXI
+
+ Her sobbings at his bosom fall;
+ Fonder than words can tell, they say
+ Her heart was his, half love, half play,
+ But now all love she gives it all.
+
+
+ XXXII
+
+ ’Twas she, your mother! While she hung
+ Her head, and hid her tears, and crept
+ To me, as one who, erring, wept;
+ Wept more the closer that she clung;
+
+
+ XXXIII
+
+ She seemed an infant in my arms—
+ Kissed me as would a child bereaved:
+ And then, as ’twere for joy, she grieved—
+ Her heart released from its alarms.
+
+
+ XXXIV
+
+ God bless you, Rose! That loving face—
+ Could she but see it! Well I knew
+ Her thoughts when last she looked at you,
+ Who now have grown up in her place.
+
+
+ XXXV
+
+ Ah, leave me, Rose! these memories stir
+ Depths that you may not dream of, child!
+ These tears till now your love has wiled;
+ Leave me, that I may think of her.
+
+
+
+
+ THE SHEPHERDESS
+
+
+ I
+
+ By one whose heart kept watch was heard the fame
+ Of a bright world that, like a ship of war,
+ Was launched in heaven beside the last that came
+ O’er the sky’s outer bar:
+ Her land Chaldea, she that blessed name
+ Gave to the coming star.
+
+
+ II
+
+ Child of a lord, they called on her to reign
+ O’er that old story-land whose shepherds deem
+ The stars a flock that studs a holy plain;
+ And she had learned in dream
+ That her loved land, through her, that star should gain
+ And with its blessings teem.
+
+
+ III
+
+ But heartless deeds were of her father told
+ Who the fair daughters, in the mountains born,
+ Had captured and to days of slavery sold
+ Where bends the Golden Horn:
+ A shepherd chief, who robbed his neighbour’s fold,
+ And took the lamb unshorn.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ She bears her crook o’er living plains, her way
+ Through tents in which the thoughtful shepherds dwell
+ Who watch the heavens where the bright grazers stray
+ And think they hear the bell
+ Whose holy tinklings, as they softly play,
+ The fates of men foretell.
+
+
+ V
+
+ So doth she haste to meet her shepherd-seers,
+ And see the promised star that shall eclipse
+ The one which filled her father’s land with tears,
+ And learn from their own lips
+ The happy portents that to man it bears
+ From the new heaven it skips.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ While Tigris and Euphrates still o’erleap
+ Their shallow bounds her camel slowly goes,
+ When nigh her tent, on vengeful errand, creep
+ Her father’s olden foes,
+ And seize her, helpless, in her noon-day sleep
+ While all her tribes repose.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ In a barred chamber, and in chains, a slave,
+ She weeps with eyes upon the Golden Horn,
+ And thinks of far-off waters as they lave
+ Blest homes in Capricorn,
+ Where happy beings find the Heaven that gave
+ To her the star new-born.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ Strangers have come and through her prison-gate
+ They count her price and would her love allure;
+ But her eyes restless watch and wide dilate;
+ Their look can none endure,
+ So wild in sorrow and so mild in hate,
+ In majesty so pure.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ One comes towards whom the look of prayer she bends
+ That seems to utter ‘Thou, my star, arise!’
+ And while that heaven-adoring thought ascends
+ New sorrows fill her eyes,
+ That tell how Love is dead and beauty ends
+ When human pity dies!
+
+
+ X
+
+ All that he has, the mystic life he bears,
+ What is their worth, her soul in slavery?
+ He pays the ransom, breaks the chain she wears,
+ As though some god were he:
+ Voiceless, she offers up to him the tears
+ Her anguish has set free.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ Handmaids and armed protectors are at hand,
+ All that to queenly power and pomp pertains,
+ And, passing waters from the stranger-land,
+ Her star-roofed home she gains,
+ Where her sleek camels, crimson-girded, stand
+ To bear her o’er the plains.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ In her slow path the faithful seers arrive
+ And with prophetic tidings bid her cheer:
+ That night, they tell, the older worlds shall strive,
+ As the new star comes near,
+ And into depths of unknown darkness dive
+ And find no other sphere.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ But little heed gives she to their appeals:
+ The coming star, alas! not yet is found;
+ Deep-sighing in her silence, she reveals
+ A heart in slavery bound:
+ Her bonds are there, and there it is she feels
+ The chain about her wound.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ ’Mid joyous shouts she sees her open gates,
+ But enters not, up-gazing in the thought
+ That never sleeps or in her breast abates,
+ Where is the star she sought!
+ But now a greater seer her advent waits;
+ He hath the tidings brought.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ ‘The hour is come, the star is now in sight;
+ Portents of blessed change the heavens bestrew:
+ The shepherds upward gaze, the air is bright,
+ The sky is gold and blue,
+ The ancient stars are on their downward flight
+ And others come anew.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ ‘And in the shower of burning worlds, self-hurled
+ From heaven to heaven, a lord is on his way
+ Around whose hosts the golden dust is whirled,
+ While, in divine array,
+ Green floats his shepherd-banner, wide-unfurled,
+ With flocks thereon at play.’
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ The hour has come in clouds that hurry o’er
+ Her palace towers, and scatter while the rays
+ Of new-made light upon the valleys pour;
+ While flocks awake and graze,
+ And shepherds sing and the new star adore:
+ But she, beholding, prays.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ The seer of seers stands forth, he takes her hands;
+ He cries, ‘Thy star is come! Be it to thee
+ A rich reward and to these teeming lands;
+ The lord, who made thee free,
+ Now in his earthly place before thee stands,
+ Thy guiding-star to be.’
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ She looks at heaven; afar the cloud-vane drifts;
+ Her face is pale, he comes, the lord is found:
+ She kneels, once more his slave; the stranger lifts
+ The virgin from the ground,
+ And offers up for sacred wedding gifts
+ The chains her heart had bound.
+
+
+
+
+ FAREWELL TO NATURE
+
+
+ Vain love for Nature! How these heartaches rust
+ Into the soul as we return to dust!
+ Hope’s shadow only masks our eventide,
+ Feigning to lead us to its brighter side,
+ While yet the mellowing skies that wondrous grow,
+ Seem left in waiting for the dead below.
+ But those tranced sunsets,—little they avail,
+ None travel hence in their alluring trail;
+ All is a dream, an ancient dream, the same
+ From the first mortal to the last that came.
+ Yet could we but for once our eyes unclose
+ When through the distant days the pageant goes!
+ Familiar vision, and so soon to be
+ Entombed within the dead eternity.
+
+ Doth Nature know our dream, or is the mind
+ A passing breath her beauty leaves behind?
+ Ah! not for this our grateful souls have wrought
+ Around her sphere a universe of thought.
+ ’Tis she inspires our dreams, but no reply
+ Vouchsafes the loving hearts that for her die,
+ Who only pray, when life’s surprise is o’er,
+ They may partake a glimpse of her once more.
+ Is it too late? She sees not to the end;
+ What she hath done she never can amend:
+ Yet once by us beloved, once only known,
+ She seems from all the past to be our own.
+
+ Last wish of age! How sweet one glance would be
+ Even from the sod the olden haunts to see;
+ To watch the long-drawn wavelets as they reach
+ The silent plains of the deserted beach;
+ To look where light once was, if but to know
+ Of its faint struggle through the winnowed snow.
+ Ah! whence this dream that like the cuckoo-guest
+ Pleads in such winning accents for a nest,
+ And with its cloud-note ever on us calls,
+ And though it passes the fond heart enthralls?
+
+ Little it seems, this wish, when oft our sight
+ Tires of the world, yet what a fresh delight
+ Were it sometimes in death those scenes to view,
+ The olden scenes that to our youth were new,
+ To linger o’er a sound whose murmurs swell
+ Upon the heart,—the tinkling village bell,—
+ To find that all was safe, all gliding on
+ In beauty’s leisure ways though we were gone;
+ To see brave Nature in her perilous scheme
+ Advance without our help, without our dream.
+ At least ’twould hold ajar death’s open door
+ To think our love was honoured evermore,—
+ In dying, on the forward thought to dwell
+ That it was not our very last farewell.
+
+ Could hope unveil and not its mystic fire
+ Be lost among the embers of desire!
+ Ill though desponding hearts their burden bear,
+ Is not the soul the master of despair?
+ Is this great life, hard won, achieved in vain,
+ Is good once found to never be again?
+ Ask of the worlds if they their path forget,
+ Ask hope that never ends, its time to set.
+ One deep desire throughout all being cries,
+ And this is hope, our future in disguise.
+ O living lamp, O Hope, the only Seer;
+ Of Nature’s after-time the pioneer,
+ Keep in advance across our starless way,
+ Be the new morrow of our orphan day!
+
+
+
+
+ THE POET’S FEAST
+
+
+ The golden feast for jovial souls prepare
+ Whose wants the wants of nature far exceed;
+ The nectar of the sun such palates need;
+ To them the fatted calf is vulgar fare.
+ Earth’s dripping fruits may wandering Arabs share
+ Pleased with the pulp and juice whereon they feed;
+ And bread alone is still the poor man’s meed,
+ Though milk abound and honey be to spare.
+ So dreams the Poet, with his crust content:
+ The crumbs that from the rich man’s table fall
+ To him are sorry signs of merriment
+ To show the world has food enough for all.
+ At festive boards he has but little part—
+ To him ’twas given to feed on his own heart.
+
+
+
+
+ THE EXILE
+
+
+ I
+
+ They bore her to the northern snows
+ Whose floods down ice-domed caverns run,
+ From lands where that calm river flows
+ Whose depths decoy the vagrant sun,
+ Where palms o’er latticed shadows rise
+ With boughs that web the sultry skies.
+
+
+ II
+
+ Where roses climb the scent-steeped hills
+ And channelled leaves with dew-drops flash,
+ Bending beneath the trickled rills
+ That fall and the pink clusters splash;
+ Where aloe-flowers, all flaming red,
+ Like watch-fires o’er the summit spread.
+
+
+ III
+
+ They bore her to a desert plain
+ Where the dry, creviced mosses cling,
+ Sand-sprinkled as by drizzling rain;
+ Where dark and ragged pine-boughs swing,
+ And the free cygnet in its flight
+ Darts with a meteor’s wingèd light.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ Her father, last of mighty lords
+ Whose deeds the war-like peasants tell,
+ Fearless had met the northern hordes
+ And in the battle’s frenzy fell.
+ Full-armed he sleeps, and still the brave
+ Salute him as they pass his grave.
+
+
+ V
+
+ Now young, she thinks not of her race
+ But feels its glory and its pride.
+ She still recalls her mother’s face
+ Who in her stately sorrow died,
+ And those large eyes her image keep,
+ And dream beside it in love’s sleep.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ Eyes that are of the sultry zone—
+ That ofttimes in their musing moods
+ See rosy banks that seem their own
+ Where lies the waste: her olive-woods,
+ Her sky with cypress-skirted folds,
+ All that she loves, her heart remoulds.
+
+
+ VII
+
+ As in a desert one red rose
+ Seems like a garden full of bloom,
+ She charms the wilderness, and throws
+ Her own bright colours o’er its gloom;
+ Then at the falling cone’s rebound
+ Pomegranates gild the enchanted ground.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ And lest when dear illusions come
+ They melt o’er-fast, she hides her eyes,
+ And feigns to see her native home,
+ And shouts in play her soul’s surprise.
+ So while the southern glory burns
+ The haunting vision still returns.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ When spring bursts o’er the wintry plain
+ And violet skies dissolve in spray,
+ And marsh-pools echo drops of rain
+ That o’er the bud’s new secret play,
+ Her soul seems darting from her eyes
+ To snatch at nature’s rhapsodies.
+
+
+ X
+
+ The serf who toils upon the road
+ From waste to waste with back that bears
+ Across the steppes another’s load,—
+ With eyes that homeward gaze in tears,—
+ Chills not for long a heart that glows
+ In its own fire ’mid northern snows.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ Where plough may delve or harrow graze,
+ She tramps beside the sluggish team
+ As fain to urge its tardy pace:
+ And when she drifts into some dream
+ Her laugh, her look of childish glee,
+ Is still the joy of memory.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ But fears flash o’er her mellow eyes
+ When gaunt sand-fountains, side by side,
+ Like giants in the distance rise,
+ Pass slowly by and onward glide,
+ Like shadows from her father’s land
+ That seek some rumoured icy strand.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ Then day breaks through a sullen sky;
+ The keen air shivers;—doth she know
+ The blackened clouds now sailing by
+ Are freighted with the virgin snow?
+ Dark ships of winter that unload
+ The widespread famine they forbode.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ The snow-flakes build a prison-wall
+ That slants high o’er her window sill;
+ She watches while they slowly fall,
+ Till heaven appears a sinking hill,
+ And darkness gathers o’er her mind:
+ Home is too far for hope to find.
+
+
+ XV
+
+ In new despair she sees heaven’s sand
+ Has drifted o’er her cottage gate!
+ She fears that now her native land
+ Is like the desert desolate.
+ The snow still falls and still it clings,
+ Soft dropped like insects’ broken wings.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ Through the strange dusk she hears the shriek
+ Of trees snapped by the dreaded wind;
+ The casements shake, the rafters creak;
+ Ah! could she now her mother find!
+ With timid wings too weak for flight
+ She hangs upon the edge of night.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ A wind’s moan utters, ‘Stir and go’:
+ Upon its gust she seems to glide
+ Towards lands beyond the falling snow
+ But reaches not its further side.
+ She drops on the cold hilly steeps
+ And in her distant reverie sleeps.
+
+
+ XVIII
+
+ No longer now the large-eyed child,
+ Who draws her charm so fresh from heaven,
+ Gives up its beauty to the wild;
+ The spell of infant faith is riven:
+ Where the sun’s tender rays were sown
+ Stones have sprung up and ice-fields grown.
+
+
+ XIX
+
+ The spring still comes, when shallow snows
+ Melt o’er a crisping flame of green
+ Wherein the nestled herbage glows
+ Through its white shell,—but there is seen
+ A heart that still unthawed remains;
+ An exile of the loveless plains.
+
+
+ XX
+
+ When winter’s sun through summer shines,
+ The joys are banished that she brought:
+ For home, not dreams of home, she pines;
+ Thought is the food of famished thought.
+ It is her heart-corroding hour:
+ The rose-tree is without a flower.
+
+
+ XXI
+
+ She feeds in broken reveries
+ On her chilled soul: within the light
+ Of those black lashes, those dark eyes,
+ The paling cheek seems over-bright,
+ With lips, like hanging fruit, whose hue
+ Is ruby ’neath a bloom of blue.
+
+
+ XXII
+
+ The friends who love her as their own
+ Stir self-upbraidings in her breast,
+ For in their midst she is alone
+ And in their peace is without rest.
+ Is there some home by them forgot?
+ Exiles they seem and suffer not.
+
+
+ XXIII
+
+ Their native games to her impart
+ A fitful joy, that sad appears,
+ Only because her eyes and heart
+ Are vacant, and have room for tears.
+ She knows not yet ’tis love’s first throe:
+ The snowdrop breaking through the snow.
+
+
+ XXIV
+
+ At length comes one whose love ere told
+ Seems wafted o’er a flowery plain,
+ And brings her back that charm of old:
+ The days of childhood live again;
+ Griefs softened into joys return;
+ In love’s new-kindled incense burn.
+
+
+ XXV
+
+ In silver-crimson trappings gay,
+ His tinkling barbs with billowy manes
+ Toss their strong necks before his sleigh—
+ And he has crossed the snowy plains.
+ She hails him, and, with heart aflame,
+ She wonders how such passion came.
+
+
+ XXVI
+
+ Beauty and man’s strong soul are his.
+ Be the earth bare, paved o’er with ice,
+ ’Tis full even to its dome in bliss:
+ The desert is her paradise,
+ Where now the hourly deepening sky
+ Rains down on her love’s mystery.
+
+
+ XXVII
+
+ She hears his love and hears no more.
+ As waves might cease to beat, as winds
+ Might drop away on some charmed shore,
+ The word a soul-deep echo finds—
+ All her fond life is without breath,
+ And sinks away in rapturous death.
+
+
+ XXVIII
+
+ New paths to home are overlaid
+ With such deep sunshine, not a tree
+ In densest woods can cast a shade.
+ Her glorious soul again is free,—
+ Free in those bonds of love that wind
+ In bliss about the heart they bind.
+
+
+ XXIX
+
+ Warmer than in its childhood’s flush
+ Her cheek in this new passion glows;
+ Not softer is the fitful blush
+ Of lily ’neath the swaying rose.
+ Her head droops not as when she pined,
+ Now bowed in love’s own southern wind.
+
+
+ XXX
+
+ A sun of passion is above;
+ Her home is here,—in cloudless eyes
+ She sees the birth-place of her love,
+ And snows dissolve in burning skies.
+ Palm-leaves above her seem to bow
+ When bridal roses wreathe her brow.
+
+
+
+
+ THE SIBYL
+
+
+ I
+
+ A maid who mindful of her playful time
+ Steps to her summer, bearing childhood on
+ To woman’s beauty, heedless of her prime:
+ The early day but not the pastime gone:
+ She is the Sibyl, uttering a doom
+ Out of her spotless bloom.
+
+
+ II
+
+ She is the Sibyl; seek not, then, her voice;—
+ A laugh, a song, a sorrow, but thy share,
+ With woes at hand for many who rejoice
+ That she shall utter; that shall many hear;
+ That warn all hearts who seek of her their fates,
+ Her love but one awaits.
+
+
+ III
+
+ She is the Sibyl; days that distant lie
+ Bend to the promise that her word shall give;
+ Already hath she eyes that prophesy,
+ For of her beauty shall all beauty live:
+ Unknown to her, in her slow opening bloom,
+ She turns the leaves of doom.
+
+
+
+
+ THE PAINTER
+
+
+ I
+
+ ‘Summer has done her work,’ the painter cries,
+ And saunters down his garden by the shore.
+ ‘The fig is cracked and dry; upon it lies,
+ In crystals, the sweet oozing of its core.
+ The peach melts in its dusk and yellow bloom,
+ Grapes cluster to the earth in diadems
+ Of dripping purple; from their slender stems,
+ ’Mid paler leaves, the dark-green citrons loom.
+
+
+ II
+
+ ‘Summer has done her work; she, lingering, sees
+ Her shady places glare: yet cooler grow
+ The breezes as they stir the sunny trees
+ Whose shaking twigs their ruby berries sow.
+ Ripe is the fairy-grass, we breathe its seeds,
+ But, hanging o’er the rocks that belt the shore,
+ Safe from the sea, above its bustling roar,
+ Here ripen, still, the blossom-swinging weeds.
+
+
+ III
+
+ ‘Pale cressets on the summer waters shine,
+ No ripple there but flings its jet of fire.
+ Rich amber wrack still bronzing in the brine
+ Is tossed ashore in daylight to expire.
+ Here wallowing waves the rocky shoal enwreathe,
+ And in loose spray, cascades of bubbles fall,
+ And steeps of watery, coral-mantled wall
+ Drink of the billow, and the sunshine breathe.
+
+
+ IV
+
+ ‘Summer has done her work, but mine remains.
+ How shall I shape these ever-murmuring waves,
+ How interweave these rumours and refrains,
+ These wind-tossed echoes of the listening caves?
+ The restless rocky roar, the billow’s splash,
+ And the all-hushing shingle—hark! it blends,
+ In open melody that never ends,
+ The drone, the cavern-whisper, and the clash.
+
+
+ V
+
+ ‘And this wide ruin of a once new shore
+ Scooped by new waves to waves of solid rock,
+ Dark-shelving, white-veined, as if marbled o’er
+ By the fresh surf still trickling block to block!
+ O worn-out waves of night, long set aside—
+ The moulded storm in dead, contending rage,—
+ Like monster-breakers of a by-gone age!
+ And now the gentle waters o’er you ride.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ ‘Can my hand darken in swift rings of flight
+ The air-path cut by the black sea-bird’s wings,
+ Then fill the dubious track with influent light,
+ While to my eyes the vanished vision clings?
+ While at their sudden whirr the billows start,
+ Can my hand hush the cymbal-sounding sea,
+ That breaks with louder roar its reverie
+ As those fast pinions into silence dart?
+
+
+ VII
+
+ ‘Press on, ye summer waves, still gently swell,—
+ The rainbow’s parent-waters overrun!
+ Can my poor brush your snaky greenness tell,
+ Raising your sidelong bellies to the sun?
+ What touch can pour you in yon pool of blue
+ Circled with surging froth of liquid snow,
+ Which now dissolves to emerald, now below
+ Glazes the sunken rocks with umber hue?
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ ‘Summer has done her work; dare I begin—
+ Painting a desert, though my pencil craves
+ To intertwine all tints with heaven akin?
+ Nature has flung her palette to the waves!
+ Then bid my eyes on cloudy landscape dwell,—
+ Not revel in thy blaze, O beauteous scene!
+ Between thy art and mine is nature’s screen,—
+ Transparent only to the soul,—farewell!
+
+
+ IX
+
+ ‘Oh! could I paint thee with these ravished eyes,—
+ Catch in my hollow palm thy overflow,
+ Who broadcast fling’st away thy witcheries!
+ Yet would I not desponding turn and go.
+ Be it a feeble hand to thee I raise,
+ ’Tis still the worship of the soul within:
+ Summer has done her work,—let mine begin,
+ Though as the grass it wither in thy blaze.’
+
+
+
+
+ THE SUN-WORSHIPPER
+
+
+ I
+
+ As a wild comet through the night she hies,
+ Her face bent towards the temple of the sun,
+ With golden hair that on the darkness lies
+ Like break of dawn when daylight, scarce begun,
+ Meanders into flame whose flashes run
+ Along the lower skies.
+
+
+ II
+
+ Soon as the sun lifts up the morning haze
+ She rushes towards him; sinks unto the ground
+ And, clasping the all-shining Presence, prays
+ In his first beams: again her god is found;
+ The startled shadows that her heart surround
+ Are dizzy in his rays.
+
+
+ III
+
+ ‘Thee I adore, O Sun! this heart is thine!
+ The youth who blindly claims its ecstasy
+ Seeks not thy temple, honours not thy shrine;
+ He kneels not, utters not his vows to thee,
+ Who all the worlds beyond this world canst see,
+ And mak’st all things divine.’
+
+
+ IV
+
+ The sunflowers turn to heaven as still she kneels;
+ Shall then her heart its coming vow deplore?
+ Not uttered yet, all utterance it reveals,
+ And she restrains her ecstasy no more:
+ Her burning lips the hasty vow outpour
+ Which her heart-trouble seals.
+
+
+ V
+
+ ‘Never, O Sun! till sinking in the west
+ Thou risest where thy wondrous setting spreads,
+ While all who love thee slumber in thy rest,
+ Shall he, who proudly in thy presence treads,
+ Enthrall me in the light his beauty sheds,
+ Or wed me to his breast!’
+
+
+ VI
+
+ Silence has tongues; she hears a sister say,
+ ‘List to the voice of thy companion-mind!
+ Thy love is still the same as yesterday;
+ It has not passed, it only lags behind,
+ And thou art lonely as the wistful wind
+ Thou meet’st upon the way.’
+
+
+ VII
+
+ Yet she repeats her vow, her heart in pain,
+ To draw some love from heaven, as from the well
+ Whose radiant springs she once craved not in vain:
+ But ebbing hope allures her by its spell
+ To past despair, on other days to dwell,—
+ And suffer them again.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ Across the hills of heliotrope she creeps,
+ Or winds within the many-shadowed wolds,
+ Till once again the sun her pathway sweeps,
+ And from her weary feet the way withholds;
+ The sacred flowers embrace her in their folds;
+ From dawn to dawn she sleeps.
+
+
+ IX
+
+ She sleeps; so still, not even her shadow veers,
+ Save when from side to side the moonflood roves;
+ But in sky-dreams the sun to her appears,
+ Yet with the visage of the one she loves;—
+ All through her sleep in phantom light he moves,
+ And still that face he bears.
+
+
+ X
+
+ She sleeps, and with the beaming of a bride
+ Beholds that face; ah! never to be wed!
+ Yet why a tear, no sorrow shall betide:
+ Though distant borne, his rays on her are shed;
+ Her soul, along his way of glory sped,
+ Shall in his light abide.
+
+
+ XI
+
+ She wakes up with the sun, but in his rise
+ Sees the rich twilight of her love-dream wane:
+ Day seems to sink in the deserted skies,
+ Whose broken, many-coloured beams remain
+ As of her dream whose night comes back again;
+ ’Twas dawn had closed her eyes.
+
+
+ XII
+
+ The cloud-slopes blossom still, but cold and lone;
+ Down them she floated in those heavenly dreams,
+ And still the veil that o’er her slumbers shone
+ Hangs gold-wrought in the fervour of those beams.
+ She kneels while watching the last fading gleams
+ O’er the grey twilight thrown.
+
+
+ XIII
+
+ With speechless lips she questions the chill blaze:
+ Behold the sun returns; that brighter flush
+ Were surely day? Yet she mistrusts her gaze
+ Though the light widens and with lordly rush
+ The sun bursts forth in morning’s youthful blush
+ And floods the heaven with rays.
+
+
+ XIV
+
+ Trembling she sees the paleness of her face
+ In those white clouds which now the sun surround,
+ Who doth in heaven his spectral way retrace.
+ Behold, the days brought back, the hours unwound,
+ The angry sun unto the zenith bound
+ And the pale moon replace!
+
+
+ XV
+
+ Perplexed, all lost, she staggers to the height
+ Where the twelve pillars in their beauty shine,
+ The temple circling in the blessed light;
+ There prostrate doth she o’er her vow repine;
+ But fears to meet the arbiter divine
+ Who banishes the night.
+
+
+ XVI
+
+ From the lone steps at length she looks above:
+ Behold, the face is there that filled her dreams;
+ The youth adored, triumphant o’er her love,
+ There radiant shines amid descending beams;
+ His lustrous hair in the rich sunshine streams,
+ With golden lights inwove.
+
+
+ XVII
+
+ She lifts her arms, she falls upon the face
+ She loved in heaven; her yearning heart, too blest,
+ Doth in deep sobs its erring way retrace.
+ All passion weeps, while gathers in her breast
+ A bliss that bears her spirit to its rest
+ In that divine embrace.
+
+
+
+
+ THE INSCRUTABLE
+
+
+ I
+
+ Dread under-life whose dreams
+ Along the midnight rush,
+ Poured out like cavern-streams
+ That from the darkness gush,
+ A murderous thought has issued forth to flood
+ A maiden’s sleep in blood.
+
+
+ II
+
+ He that hath swum the heaven
+ Of woman’s loving eyes—
+ To him a dream is given,
+ As helplessly he lies,
+ A dream that never nigh his thought had passed,
+ Till in that slumber cast.
+
+
+ III
+
+ He loves her and she loves,
+ But stern her father’s heart
+ That every passion moves
+ Their holy hope to thwart.
+ Can they, meek sleepers, on dream-demons call
+ To burst the iron thrall?
+
+
+ IV
+
+ That night in dreams that sway
+ The soul to shedding blood,
+ One hears his own voice say
+ In sleep’s half-weary mood,
+ ‘Take down your father’s sword and quickly slide
+ The blade into his side.
+
+
+ V
+
+ ‘Disguise the seeming guilt,
+ And bend his fingers round,
+ And put them on the hilt,
+ And leave him to his wound.’
+ In that strange dream until the break of day,
+ Asleep the lover lay.
+
+
+ VI
+
+ He wakes, aghast; he strives
+ To get the vision hence
+ That into morning lives,
+ And fastens on his sense.
+ ’Tis but a dream, but should her hand fulfil
+ His will within her will!
+
+
+ VII
+
+ She comes up wild and pale,
+ She wrings her hands in pain,
+ She utters with a wail—
+ ‘Who hath my father slain!
+ My anguished heart sobbed all night in its sleep;
+ I felt it sob and weep.
+
+
+ VIII
+
+ ‘I saw you while I slept,
+ And to my dream you spoke;
+ All night your words I kept,
+ I heard them when I woke:
+ “Take down your father’s sword and quickly slide
+ The blade into his side.”
+
+
+ IX
+
+ ‘“Disguise the seeming guilt,
+ And bend his fingers round,
+ And put them on the hilt,
+ And leave him to his wound.”
+ O the false voice, that it so true should seem
+ In that unthought-of dream!
+
+
+ X
+
+ ‘I hurried to the bed,
+ I saw that he was slain,
+ I saw the blood was shed,
+ I saw the deep,—deep stain.
+ His sword was in his side,—thrust,—to the hilt,—
+ His fingers took the guilt.’
+
+
+
+
+ THE WEDDING RING
+
+
+ LADY
+
+ ‘Give me a ring, good jeweller,
+ By no one worn before,
+ And you shall boast you gave it her
+ Who wears it evermore.’
+
+
+ JEWELLER
+
+ ‘Then it shall be a ruby ring,
+ With hoop of richest gold,
+ And it shall be my offering
+ For benefits of old.’
+
+
+ LADY
+
+ ‘A ruby ring it must not be,
+ Which is a thing to shine;
+ An iron ring is best for me,
+ No other can be mine.’
+
+
+ JEWELLER
+
+ ‘But surely such a ring ’twere sad
+ To see a lady wear
+ Among her guests in jewels clad,
+ And she so young and fair.’
+
+
+ LADY
+
+ ‘An iron ring is all I crave
+ Upon my wedding night,
+ For I must wear it in the grave,
+ Where it is out of sight.’
+
+
+ JEWELLER
+
+ ‘Is it to be a ring to bind
+ Your heart in wedlock’s bond,
+ Or but to link the day behind
+ And days that are beyond?’
+
+
+ LADY
+
+ ‘It is to link me to his peace
+ Who is not far away;
+ And when her lonely term may cease,
+ The bride shall with him stay.’
+
+
+ JEWELLER
+
+ ‘Who is this bridegroom you would wed,
+ And yet for ever mourn,
+ As though you would espouse the dead,
+ Who never can return?’
+
+
+ LADY
+
+ ‘It is the dead I would espouse,
+ With him lie side by side;
+ There is a chamber in his house
+ He furnished for his bride.’
+
+
+
+
+ LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR DEAD
+
+ LUKE ix. 60
+
+
+ Where marshes venom-steeped the life-breeze taint
+ And fitful meteors lap the watery wild,
+ A moon sinks in the cloud-mire, dazed and faint,
+ Its pearly flush defiled,
+ Halo’d in sallow vapours like a saint
+ Through paths impure beguiled.
+
+ But worse the gloom within the castle walls
+ Where moans the lord whom pestilence devours:
+ The serfs awe-stricken flee his festering halls,
+ The plague-star o’er him lowers,
+ On his glazed eyes the fatal glimmer falls
+ While night weighs down his towers.
+
+ A crescent moon whose advent stays the pest
+ Embalms the dead with heavenly obsequies,
+ But there are none to bear him to his rest,
+ His body shroudless lies;
+ Anointed not, by pious rites unblest,
+ Unto the grave he cries.
+
+ A great half-moon now dominates the dome,
+ With stern upbraidings yet not less benign:
+ But the blank gazers to his final home
+ The dead dare not consign,
+ Lured on by sullen spectres of the gloam
+ Who their own dead enshrine.
+
+ Again the drowsy marshes pillow night
+ And darkness severs sky and earth in two,
+ But with a rush of cloud dispersing might
+ A full moon hurries through;
+ The corpse is shrouded as in living light,
+ The castle walls look new.
+
+ The heaven is one blue wave; it seems to break
+ While lucid spray with dreamlight floods the air:
+ The coffins in the quickened graveyards quake,
+ The bones know they are there,
+ And ghostly shades their buried depths forsake
+ To gather in the glare.
+
+ As dusk descends, by its scared rays illumed,
+ A soul-procession dense and denser grows:
+ Hearse after hearse night-horsed and sable-plumed
+ A mirage heavenward throws:
+ The newly dead is by the dead entombed
+ And nature has repose.
+
+
+
+
+ THE GOLDEN WEDDING
+
+
+ The day but not the bride is come,
+ As in her blossom-time;
+ But golden lights sustain the home
+ She cherished in her prime.
+
+ May we not call upon the band?
+ May we not ask the priest?
+ Our golden wedding is at hand,
+ And we shall hold a feast.
+
+ But where is he in snow-white stole
+ Who the old service read,
+ That made us one in heart and soul?
+ Long, long has he been dead.
+
+ The bridesmaids clad in silken fold
+ Who waited on the bride,
+ Where are they now? Their tale is told:
+ Long, long ago they died.
+
+ Where is the groomsman, chosen friend,
+ The true, the well-beloved;
+ His term, alas! is at an end;
+ Too soon was he removed.
+
+ Where is the bride, ah! such a bride
+ As every joy foretells?
+ I see her walking by my side,
+ I hear the wedding-bells.
+
+ Where is she now? That we should say
+ She did not live to know
+ How passed her silver wedding-day,
+ So many years ago!
+
+ But come, and for your mother’s sake,
+ Though vain it were to weep,
+ Let us the silent feast partake,
+ Her golden wedding keep.
+
+
+ Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty, at the
+ Edinburgh University Press.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+ List of Books
+
+ in
+
+ Belles Lettres
+
+[Illustration: An ornate, black-and-white illustrated publisher's mark
+featuring a decorative, wrought-iron style border enclosing stylized
+calligraphy that reads: 'Elkin Mathews & John Lane: Publishers and
+Vendors of Choice & Rare Editions in Belles Lettres.']
+
+ ALL BOOKS IN THIS CATALOGUE
+ ARE PUBLISHED AT NET PRICES
+
+ _1894_
+
+ _Telegraphic Address_—
+ ‘BODLEIAN, LONDON’
+
+A word must be said for the manner in which the publishers have produced
+the volume (_i.e._ “The Earth Fiend”), a sumptuous folio, printed by
+CONSTABLE, the etchings on Japanese paper by MR. GOULDING. The volume
+should add not only to MR. STRANG’S fame but to that of MESSRS. ELKIN
+MATHEWS AND JOHN LANE, who are rapidly gaining distinction for their
+beautiful editions of belles-lettres.’—_Daily Chronicle_, Sept. 24,
+1892.
+
+_Referring to_ MR. LE GALLIENNE’S ‘English Poems’ _and_ ‘Silhouettes’ by
+MR. ARTHUR SYMONS:—‘We only refer to them now to note a fact which they
+illustrate, and which we have been observing of late, namely, the
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+MATHEWS AND JOHN LANE, are models of artistic publishing, and yet they
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+sense.’—_Sunday Sun_, Oct. 2, 1892.
+
+‘MR. LE GALLIENNE is a fortunate young gentleman. I don’t know by what
+legerdemain he and his publishers work, but here, in an age as stony to
+poetry as the ages of Chatterton and Richard Savage, we find the full
+edition of his book sold before publication. How is it done, MESSRS.
+ELKIN MATHEWS AND JOHN LANE? for, without depreciating MR. LE
+GALLIENNE’S sweetness and charm, I doubt that the marvel would have been
+wrought under another publisher. These publishers, indeed, produce books
+so delightfully that it must give an added pleasure to the hoarding of
+first editions.’—KATHARINE TYNAN in _The Irish Daily Independent_.
+
+‘To MESSRS. ELKIN MATHEWS AND JOHN LANE almost more than to any other,
+we take it, are the thanks of the grateful singer especially due; for it
+is they who have managed, by means of limited editions and charming
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+speculate in the latest discovered poet, as in a new company—with the
+difference that an operation in the former can be done with three
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+
+ _St. James’s Gazette._
+
+
+
+
+ _January 1894._
+
+ List of Books
+
+ IN
+
+ _BELLES LETTRES_
+
+ (_Including some Transfers_)
+
+ PUBLISHED BY
+
+ Elkin Mathews and John Lane
+
+ =The Bodley Head=
+
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+
+_N.B.—The Authors and Publishers reserve the right of reprinting any
+book in this list if a second edition is called for, except in cases
+where a stipulation has been made to the contrary, and of printing a
+separate edition of any of the books for America irrespective of the
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+do not include the copies sent for review or to the public libraries._
+
+
+ADAMS (FRANCIS).
+
+ ESSAYS IN MODERNITY. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+ALLEN (GRANT).
+
+ THE LOWER SLOPES: A Volume of Verse. 600 copies. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Immediately._
+
+ANTÆUS.
+
+ THE BACKSLIDER AND OTHER POEMS. 100 only. Small 4to. 7s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+BEECHING (H. C.), J. W. MACKAIL, & J. B. B. NICHOLS.
+
+ LOVE IN IDLENESS. With Vignette by W. B. SCOTT. Fcap. 8vo, half
+ vellum. 12s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+ _Transferred by the Authors to the present Publishers._
+
+BENSON (ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER).
+
+ POEMS. 550 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+BENSON (EUGENE).
+
+ FROM THE ASOLAN HILLS: A Poem. 300 copies. Imp. 16mo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+BINYON (LAURENCE).
+
+ POEMS. 16mo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+BOURDILLON (F. W.).
+
+ A LOST GOD: A Poem. With Illustrations by H. J. FORD. 500 copies. 8vo.
+ 6s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+BOURDILLON (F. W.).
+
+ AILES D’ALOUETTE. Poems printed at the private press of Rev. H.
+ DANIEL, Oxford. 100 only. 16mo. £1, 10s. net.
+
+ [_Not published._
+
+BRIDGES (ROBERT).
+
+ THE GROWTH OF LOVE. Printed in Fell’s old English type at the private
+ press of Rev. H. DANIEL, Oxford. 100 only. Fcap. 4to. £2, 12s. 6d.
+ net.
+
+ [_Not published._
+
+COLERIDGE (HON. STEPHEN).
+
+ THE SANCTITY OF CONFESSION: A Romance. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s.
+ net.
+
+ [_A few remain._
+
+CRANE (WALTER).
+
+ RENASCENCE: A Book of Verse. Frontispiece and 38 designs by the
+ Author.
+
+ [_Small paper edition out of print._
+
+ There remain a few large paper copies, fcap. 4to. £1, 1s. net. And a
+ few fcap. 4to, Japanese vellum. £1, 15s. net.
+
+CROSSING (WM.).
+
+ THE ANCIENT CROSSES OF DARTMOOR. With 11 plates. 8vo, cloth. 4s. 6d.
+ net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+DAVIDSON (JOHN).
+
+ PLAYS: An Unhistorical Pastoral; A Romantic Farce; Bruce, a Chronicle
+ Play; Smith, a Tragic Farce; Scaramouch in Naxos, a Pantomime, with
+ a Frontispiece, Title-page, and Cover Design by AUBREY BEARDSLEY.
+ 500 copies. Small 4to. 7s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Immediately._
+
+DAVIDSON (JOHN).
+
+ FLEET STREET ECLOGUES. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo, buckram. 5s. net.
+
+DAVIDSON (JOHN).
+
+ A RANDOM ITINERARY: Prose Sketches, with a Ballad. Frontispiece,
+ Title-page, and Cover Design by LAURENCE HOUSMAN. Fcap. 8vo. Uniform
+ with ‘Fleet Street Eclogues.’ 5s. net.
+
+DAVIDSON (JOHN).
+
+ THE NORTH WALL. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net.
+
+ _The few remaining copies transferred by the Author to the present
+ Publishers._
+
+DE GRUCHY (AUGUSTA).
+
+ UNDER THE HAWTHORN, AND OTHER VERSES. Frontispiece by WALTER CRANE.
+ 300 copies. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+ Also 30 copies on Japanese vellum. 15s. net.
+
+DE TABLEY (LORD).
+
+ POEMS, DRAMATIC AND LYRICAL. By JOHN LEICESTER WARREN (Lord De
+ Tabley). Illustrations and Cover Design by C. S. RICKETTS. Second
+ Edition. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. net.
+
+DIAL (THE).
+
+ No. 1 of the Second Series. Illustrations by RICKETTS, SHANNON,
+ PISSARRO. 200 only. 4to. £1, 1s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+ _The present series will be continued at irregular intervals._
+
+EGERTON (GEORGE).
+
+ KEYNOTES: Short Stories. With Title-page by AUBREY BEARDSLEY. Second
+ Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net.
+
+FIELD (MICHAEL).
+
+ SIGHT AND SONG. (Poems on Pictures.) 400 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+FIELD (MICHAEL).
+
+ STEPHANIA: A Trialogue in Three Acts. 250 copies. Pott 4to. 6s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+GALE (NORMAN).
+
+ ORCHARD SONGS. Fcap. 8vo. With Title-page and Cover Design by J.
+ ILLINGWORTH KAY. 5s. net.
+
+ Also a Special Edition limited in number on hand-made paper bound in
+ English vellum. £1, 1s. net.
+
+GARNETT (RICHARD).
+
+ A VOLUME OF POEMS. 350 copies. Crown 8vo. With Title-page designed by
+ J. ILLINGWORTH KAY. 5s. net.
+
+GOSSE (EDMUND).
+
+ THE LETTERS OF THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES. Now first edited. Pott 8vo. 5s.
+ net.
+
+ [_Immediately._
+
+GRAHAME (KENNETH).
+
+ PAGAN PAPERS: A Volume of Essays. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+GREENE (G. A.).
+
+ ITALIAN LYRISTS OF TO-DAY. Translations in the original metres from
+ about thirty-five living Italian poets, with bibliographical and
+ biographical notes. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+HAKE (DR. T. GORDON).
+
+ A SELECTION FROM HIS POEMS. Edited by Mrs. MEYNELL. With a Portrait
+ after D. G. ROSSETTI. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Immediately._
+
+HALLAM (ARTHUR HENRY).
+
+ THE POEMS, together with his essay ‘On Some of the Characteristics of
+ Modern Poetry and on the Lyrical Poems of ALFRED TENNYSON.’ Edited,
+ with an Introduction, by RICHARD LE GALLIENNE. 550 copies. Fcap.
+ 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+HAMILTON (COL. IAN).
+
+ THE BALLAD OF HADJI AND OTHER POEMS. Etched Frontispiece by WM.
+ STRANG. 50 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. net.
+
+ _Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers._
+
+HAYES (ALFRED).
+
+ THE VALE OF ARDEN AND OTHER POEMS. With Title-page and Cover Design by
+ LAURENCE HOUSMAN. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+HICKEY (EMILY H.).
+
+ VERSE TALES, LYRICS AND TRANSLATIONS. 300 copies. Imp. 16mo. 5s. net.
+
+HORNE (HERBERT P.).
+
+ DIVERSI COLORES: Poems. With ornaments by the Author. 250 copies.
+ 16mo. 5s. net.
+
+IMAGE (SELWYN).
+
+ CAROLS AND POEMS. With decorations by H. P. HORNE. 250 copies. 16mo.
+ 5s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+JAMES (W. P.).
+
+ ROMANTIC PROFESSIONS: A Volume of Essays, with Title-page by J.
+ ILLINGWORTH KAY. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Immediately._
+
+JOHNSON (EFFIE).
+
+ IN THE FIRE AND OTHER FANCIES. Frontispiece by WALTER CRANE. 500
+ copies. Imp. 16mo. 3s. 6d. net.
+
+JOHNSON (LIONEL).
+
+ THE ART OF THOMAS HARDY: Six Essays. With Etched Portrait by WM.
+ STRANG, and Bibliography by JOHN LANE. Crown 8vo. 5s. 6d. net.
+
+ Also 150 copies, large paper, with proofs of the portrait. £1, 1s.
+ net.
+
+ [_Very shortly._
+
+JOHNSON (LIONEL).
+
+ A VOLUME OF POEMS. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+KEATS (JOHN).
+
+ THREE ESSAYS, now issued in book form for the first time. Edited by H.
+ BUXTON FORMAN. With Life-mask by HAYDON. Fcap. 4to. 10s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+LEATHER (R. K.).
+
+ VERSES. 250 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. net.
+
+ _Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers._
+
+LEATHER (R. K.), & RICHARD LE GALLIENNE.
+
+ THE STUDENT AND THE BODY-SNATCHER AND OTHER TRIFLES.
+
+ [_Small paper edition out of print._
+
+ There remain a very few of the 50 large paper copies. 7s. 6d. net.
+
+LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).
+
+ PROSE FANCIES. With a Portrait of the Author. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ Also a limited large paper edition. 12s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).
+
+ THE BOOK BILLS OF NARCISSUS. An Account rendered by RICHARD LE
+ GALLIENNE. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, buckram. 3s. 6d. net.
+
+LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).
+
+ ENGLISH POEMS. Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).
+
+ GEORGE MEREDITH: Some Characteristics. With a Bibliography (much
+ enlarged) by JOHN LANE, portrait, etc. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s.
+ 6d. net.
+
+LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).
+
+ THE RELIGION OF A LITERARY MAN. Cr. 8vo. 3rd thousand. 3s. 6d. net.
+
+ Also a special rubricated edition on hand-made paper. 8vo. 10s. 6d.
+ net.
+
+LETTERS TO LIVING ARTISTS.
+
+ 500 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+MARSTON (PHILIP BOURKE).
+
+ A LAST HARVEST: LYRICS AND SONNETS FROM THE BOOK OF LOVE. Edited by
+ LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON. 500 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ Also 50 copies on large paper, hand-made. 10s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+MARTIN (W. WILSEY).
+
+ QUATRAINS, LIFE’S MYSTERY AND OTHER POEMS. 16mo. 2s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+MARZIALS (THEO.).
+
+ THE GALLERY OF PIGEONS AND OTHER POEMS. Fcap. 8vo. 4s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+ _Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers._
+
+MEYNELL (MRS.), (ALICE C. THOMPSON).
+
+ POEMS. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. A few of the 50 large
+ paper copies (First Edition) remain, 12s. 6d. net.
+
+MEYNELL (MRS.).
+
+ THE RHYTHM OF LIFE, AND OTHER ESSAYS. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s.
+ 6d. net. A few of the 50 large paper copies (First Edition) remain.
+ 12s. 6d. net.
+
+MURRAY (ALMA).
+
+ PORTRAIT AS BEATRICE CENCI. With critical notice containing four
+ letters from ROBERT BROWNING. 8vo, wrapper. 2s. net.
+
+NETTLESHIP (J. T.).
+
+ ROBERT BROWNING: Essays and Thoughts. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s.
+ 6d. net. Half a dozen of the Whatman large paper copies (First
+ Edition) remain. £1, 1s. net.
+
+NOBLE (JAS. ASHCROFT).
+
+ THE SONNET IN ENGLAND AND OTHER ESSAYS. Title-page and Cover Design by
+ AUSTIN YOUNG. 600 copies. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ Also 50 copies large paper. 12s. 6d. net.
+
+NOEL (HON. RODEN).
+
+ POOR PEOPLE’S CHRISTMAS. 250 copies. 16mo. 1s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+OXFORD CHARACTERS.
+
+ A series of lithographed portraits by WILL ROTHENSTEIN, with text by
+ F. YORK POWELL and others. To be issued monthly in term. Each number
+ will contain two portraits. Part I. contains portraits of SIR HENRY
+ ACLAND and Mr. W. A. L. FLETCHER, and Part II. of Mr. ROBINSON K.
+ ELLIS, and LORD ST. CYRES. 200 copies only, folio, wrapper, 5s. net
+ per part; 25 special copies containing proof impressions of the
+ portraits signed by the artist, 10s. 6d. net per part.
+
+PINKERTON (PERCY).
+
+ GALEAZZO: A Venetian Episode and other Poems. Etched Frontispiece.
+ 16mo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+ _Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers._
+
+RADFORD (DOLLIE).
+
+ SONGS. A New Volume of Verse.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+RADFORD (ERNEST).
+
+ CHAMBERS TWAIN. Frontispiece by WALTER CRANE. 250 copies. Imp. 16mo.
+ 5s. net.
+
+ Also 50 copies large paper. 10s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+RHYMERS’ CLUB, THE BOOK OF THE.
+
+ A second series is in preparation.
+
+SCHAFF (DR. P.).
+
+ LITERATURE AND POETRY: Papers on Dante, etc. Portrait and Plates, 100
+ copies only. 8vo. 10s. net.
+
+SCOTT (WM. BELL).
+
+ A POET’S HARVEST HOME: WITH AN AFTERMATH. 300 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s.
+ net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+ ⁂ _Will not be reprinted._
+
+SHAW (A. D. L.).
+
+ THE HAPPY WANDERER. Poems. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+STODDARD (R. H.).
+
+ THE LION’S CUB; WITH OTHER VERSE. Portrait. 100 copies only, bound in
+ an illuminated Persian design. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+SYMONDS (JOHN ADDINGTON).
+
+ IN THE KEY OF BLUE, AND OTHER PROSE ESSAYS. Cover designed by C. S.
+ RICKETTS. Second Edition. Thick Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. net.
+
+THOMPSON (FRANCIS).
+
+ A VOLUME OF POEMS. With Frontispiece, Title-page and Cover Design by
+ LAURENCE HOUSMAN. Second Edition. Pott 4to. 5s. net.
+
+TODHUNTER (JOHN).
+
+ A SICILIAN IDYLL. Frontispiece by WALTER CRANE. 250 copies. Imp. 16mo.
+ 5s. net.
+
+ Also 50 copies large paper, fcap. 4to. 10s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_Very few remain._
+
+TOMSON (GRAHAM R.).
+
+ AFTER SUNSET. A Volume of Poems. With Title-page and Cover Design by
+ R. ANNING BELL. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ Also a limited large paper edition. 12s. 6d. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+TREE (H. BEERBOHM).
+
+ THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY: A Lecture delivered at the Royal Institution.
+ With portrait of Mr. TREE from an unpublished drawing by the
+ Marchioness of Granby. Fcap. 8vo, boards. 2s. 6d. net.
+
+TYNAN HINKSON (KATHARINE).
+
+ CUCKOO SONGS. With Title-page and Cover Design by LAURENCE HOUSMAN.
+ 500 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+VAN DYKE (HENRY).
+
+ THE POETRY OF TENNYSON. Third Edition, enlarged. Crown 8vo. 5s. 6d.
+ net.
+
+ _The late Laureate himself gave valuable aid in correcting various
+ details._
+
+WATSON (WILLIAM).
+
+ THE ELOPING ANGELS: A Caprice. Second Edition. Square 16mo, buckram.
+ 3s. 6d. net.
+
+WATSON (WILLIAM).
+
+ EXCURSIONS IN CRITICISM: being some Prose Recreations of a Rhymer.
+ Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+WATSON (WILLIAM).
+
+ THE PRINCE’S QUEST, AND OTHER POEMS. With a Bibliographical Note
+ added. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 4s. 6d. net.
+
+WEDMORE (FREDERICK).
+
+ PASTORALS OF FRANCE—RENUNCIATIONS. A volume of Stories. Title-page by
+ JOHN FULLEYLOVE, R.I. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.
+
+ _A few of the large paper copies of Renunciations (First Edition)
+ remain. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+WICKSTEED (P. H.).
+
+ DANTE. Six Sermons. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 2s. net.
+
+WILDE (OSCAR).
+
+ THE SPHINX. A poem decorated throughout in line and colour, and bound
+ in a design by CHARLES RICKETTS. 250 copies. £2, 2s. net. 25 copies
+ large paper. £5, 5s. net.
+
+ [_Very shortly._
+
+WILDE (OSCAR).
+
+ The incomparable and ingenious history of Mr. W. H., being the true
+ secret of Shakespear’s sonnets now for the first time here fully set
+ forth, with initial letters and cover design by CHARLES RICKETTS.
+ 500 copies, 10s. 6d. net.
+
+ Also 50 copies large paper. 21s. net.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+WILDE (OSCAR).
+
+ DRAMATIC WORKS, now printed for the first time with a specially
+ designed Title-page and binding to each volume, by CHARLES SHANNON.
+ 500 copies. Small 4to. 7s. 6d. net per vol.
+
+ Also 50 copies large paper. 15s. net per vol.
+
+ Vol. I. LADY WINDERMERE’S FAN: A Comedy in Four Acts.
+
+ [_Ready._
+
+ Vol. II. A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE: A Comedy in Four Acts.
+
+ [_Shortly._
+
+ Vol. III. THE DUCHESS OF PADUA: A Blank Verse Tragedy in Five Acts.
+
+ [_In preparation._
+
+WILDE (OSCAR).
+
+ SALOMÉ: A Tragedy in one Act, done into English. With 11
+ Illustrations, title-page, and Cover Design by AUBREY BEARDSLEY. 500
+ copies. Small 4to. 15s. net.
+
+ Also 100 copies, large paper. 30s. net.
+
+ [_Shortly._
+
+WYNNE (FRANCES).
+
+ WHISPER. A Volume of Verse. With a Memoir by KATHARINE TYNAN and a
+ Portrait added. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net.
+
+ _Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers._
+
+The Hobby Horse
+
+A new series of this illustrated magazine will be published quarterly by
+subscription, under the Editorship of Herbert P. Horne. Subscription £1
+per annum, post free, for the four numbers. Quarto, printed on hand-made
+paper, and issued in a limited edition to subscribers only. The Magazine
+will contain articles upon Literature, Music, Painting, Sculpture,
+Architecture, and the Decorative Arts; Poems; Essays; Fiction; original
+Designs; with reproductions of pictures and drawings by the old masters
+and contemporary artists. There will be a new title-page and ornaments
+designed by the Editor. Among the contributors to the Hobby Horse are:
+
+ The late MATTHEW ARNOLD.
+ LAURENCE BINYON.
+ WILFRID BLUNT.
+ FORD MADOX BROWN.
+ The late ARTHUR BURGESS.
+ E. BURNE-JONES, A.R.A.
+ AUSTIN DOBSON.
+ RICHARD GARNETT, LL.D.
+ A. J. HIPKINS, F.S.A.
+ SELWYN IMAGE.
+ LIONEL JOHNSON.
+ RICHARD LE GALLIENNE.
+ SIR F. LEIGHTON, Bart., P.R.A.
+ T. HOPE MCLACHLAN.
+ MAY MORRIS.
+ C. HUBERT H. PARRY, Mus. Doc.
+ A. W. POLLARD.
+ F. YORK POWELL.
+ CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI.
+ W. M. ROSSETTI.
+ JOHN RUSKIN, D.C.L., LL.D.
+ FREDERICK SANDYS.
+ The late W. BELL SCOTT.
+ FREDERICK J. SHIELDS.
+ J. H. SHORTHOUSE.
+ The late JAMES SMETHAM.
+ SIMEON SOLOMON.
+ A. SOMERVELL.
+ The late J. ADDINGTON SYMONDS.
+ KATHARINE TYNAN.
+ G. F. WATTS, R.A.
+ FREDERICK WEDMORE.
+ OSCAR WILDE.
+
+ _Prospectuses on Application._
+
+THE BODLEY HEAD, VIGO STREET, LONDON, W.
+
+‘Nearly every book put out by Messrs. Elkin Mathews & John Lane, at the
+Sign of the Bodley Head, is a satisfaction to the special senses of the
+modern bookman for bindings, shapes, types, and papers. They have
+surpassed themselves, and registered a real achievement in English
+bookmaking by the volume of “Poems, Dramatic and Lyrical,” of Lord De
+Tabley.’—_Newcastle Daily Chronicle._
+
+‘A ray of hopefulness is stealing again into English poetry after the
+twilight greys of Clough and Arnold and Tennyson. Even unbelief wears
+braver colours. Despite the jeremiads, which are the dirges of the elder
+gods, England is still a nest of singing-birds (_teste_ the Catalogue of
+Elkin Mathews and John Lane).’—Mr. ZANGWILL in _Pall Mall Magazine_.
+
+‘All Messrs. Mathews & Lane’s Books are so beautifully printed and so
+tastefully issued, that it rejoices the heart of a book-lover to handle
+them; but they have shown their sound judgment not less markedly in the
+literary quality of their publications. The choiceness of form is not
+inappropriate to the matter, which is always of something more than
+ephemeral worth. This was a distinction on which the better publishers
+at one time prided themselves; they never lent their names to trash; but
+some names associated with worthy traditions have proved more than once
+a delusion and a snare. The record of Messrs. Elkin Mathews & John Lane
+is perfect in this respect, and their imprint is a guarantee of the
+worth of what they publish.’—_Birmingham Daily Post_, Nov. 6, 1893.
+
+‘One can nearly always be certain when one sees on the title-page of any
+given book the name of Messrs Elkin Mathews & John Lane as being the
+publishers thereof that there will be something worth reading to be
+found between the boards.’—_World._
+
+
+[Illustration: Publisher's colophon showing a sailing ship within an
+oval emblem and the text 'Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, Printers to
+Her Majesty']
+
+ Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE
+ Printers to Her Majesty
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
+
+
+ ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
+ ● Images without captions use HTML alt text provided by transcriber.
+ ● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78947 ***
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+ </head>
+
+ <body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78947 ***</div>
+
+
+<div class='tnotes covernote'>
+
+<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
+
+<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/i_frontis.jpg' alt='Sepia-toned profile portrait of Thomas Gordon Hake with short hair and sideburns, facing right, dated 1872' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='titlepage'>
+
+<div>
+ <h1 class='c001'>THE POEMS OF THOMAS GORDON HAKE<br> <span class='large'>SELECTED<br> WITH A PREFATORY NOTE BY</span><br> <span class='xlarge'>ALICE MEYNELL</span><br> <span class='large'>AND A PORTRAIT BY</span><br> <span class='xlarge'>DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI</span></h1>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+ <div>LONDON: ELKIN MATHEWS AND</div>
+ <div>JOHN LANE</div>
+ <div class='c003'>CHICAGO: STONE AND KIMBALL</div>
+ <div>1894</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+ <div><span class='small'><i>Of this edition 500 copies have been printed for England</i></span></div>
+ <div class='c002'><span class='small'>Edinburgh: T. and A. <span class='sc'>Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_iii'>iii</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>PREFATORY NOTE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c005'>The Poems in this collection are chosen from
+volumes published at intervals over more than fifty
+years—among them <cite>The Piromides</cite>, issued in 1839,
+<i>Madeline</i>, reviewed by Dante Gabriel Rossetti in
+the <cite>Academy</cite> in 1871; <cite>Parables and Tales</cite>, to which
+Rossetti gave a <cite>Fortnightly Review</cite> article in 1873;
+down to <cite>The New Day</cite>, dated 1890; together with
+verses which will be new even to the readers of the
+hitherto published works.</p>
+
+<p class='c006'>Dr. Hake has a solemn and distinct note, little
+confusible with the other notes of the concerted
+song of poets. Only nine years younger than the
+century, he inherited, by right of his time and
+place, a tradition of deep composure—poetry
+aloof from the peril of excitement which knows
+neither how to contain nor how to express itself.
+Dr. Hake’s expression always implies long intention,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_iv'>iv</span>deliberate decision. The verse is a consequence
+long foreseen.</p>
+
+<p class='c006'>The emotion of moments lacks indeed no swiftness
+of passage, but we are made aware that it
+had a past of experience and has a future of
+power. It was not a gust born of the moment
+and then no more. Poetic passion must be like
+a wind; thou canst not tell whence it cometh
+nor whither it goeth; but surely it appeared
+with an approach and disappeared with a departure;
+it was a thing of transitory phase, but not
+of transitory life. Essentially durable and spiritual
+is the passion of those infrequent poems in which
+this poet, raising himself from the attitude of
+meditation, gathers his word into intenser action.</p>
+
+<p class='c006'>He has emotion which is thus proved true. For
+the proof of the authenticity of his thought, also, the
+reader will look into his own experience as he reads.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c003'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span lang="it">Il poeta mi disse: Che pense?</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>The question which Virgil asked of Dante is a poet’s
+question. The world takes it as generally the reader’s
+question; but it is emphatically the poet’s. Now,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span>the thought to which Dr. Hake appeals in his
+reader’s mind is unquestionably not an easy nor an
+obvious one. In saying this we assign to the reader
+of poetry some part of the writer’s responsibility,
+some part of his honour. Or, if this is too much to
+say, the reader is at any rate responsible for choosing
+his poet. And if a poet is worth reading at
+all, he is to be trusted both with the importance
+and with the distinctness of his own thought.</p>
+
+<p class='c006'>The exceeding solemnity of what we have called
+Dr. Hake’s note—and it is as indescribable and
+as peculiar as the note of a voice—suggests a
+further meaning, even an allegory, where in fact
+he had no intention of proposing anything beyond
+the text. The more does this illusion occur,
+perhaps, because Dr. Hake tells a story—a story
+of events—in most meditative stanzas. He writes
+movingly of dreams and sleep; and his study of
+these has added to all or almost all his verse
+something of the ecstasy of dreams.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>ALICE MEYNELL.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'><i>February 1894.</i></p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table0'>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'></td>
+ <th class='c008'>PAGE</th>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>ALONE</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>OLD SOULS</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_8'>8</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>VENUS URANIA</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_16'>16</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE CRIPPLE</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE INFANT MEDUSA</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_28'>28</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE LILY OF THE VALLEY</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE LOVER’S DAY</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_45'>45</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE DEADLY NIGHTSHADE</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_47'>47</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>FLOWERS ON THE BANK</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_57'>57</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE BLIND BOY</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_59'>59</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>WHEN I THINK OF THEE, BROTHER</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_72'>72</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>ECCE HOMO!</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_74'>74</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE SNAKE CHARMER</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_80'>80</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>PYTHAGORAS</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_88'>88</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE FIRST SAVED</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_95'>95</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>REMINISCENCE</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_101'>101</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>THE SHEPHERDESS</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_110'>110</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>FAREWELL TO NATURE</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_117'>117</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE POET’S FEAST</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_121'>121</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE EXILE</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_122'>122</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE SIBYL</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_133'>133</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE PAINTER</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_135'>135</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE SUN-WORSHIPPER</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_139'>139</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE INSCRUTABLE</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_145'>145</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE WEDDING RING</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_149'>149</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR DEAD</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_152'>152</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c007'>THE GOLDEN WEDDING</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_154'>154</a></td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>ALONE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Loved, wedded, and caressed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Although her children died</div>
+ <div class='line'>She still seemed doubly blest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her helpmate at her side</div>
+ <div class='line'>More dear than all the rest!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But sorrow did not kill</div>
+ <div class='line'>The thought of those so dear,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who all her feelings fill,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As though still with her here</div>
+ <div class='line'>To play about her still.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Her little children’s fate</div>
+ <div class='line'>She never could recall,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet lived she desolate,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For she had lost them all,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>And then she lost her mate.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>When came that hour of woe</div>
+ <div class='line'>And all she loved was gone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not sorrow’s keenest blow</div>
+ <div class='line'>Left her fond heart alone;</div>
+ <div class='line'>No parting could it know.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Nigh her he still appears,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The early times so cling;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her simple heart still hears</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her children laugh and sing</div>
+ <div class='line'>As in the happy years.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The dead to her remain;</div>
+ <div class='line'>She heeds each gentle sound</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of theirs within her brain,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And answers smiling round:</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Sweet love, say that again!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Is it that angels dwell</div>
+ <div class='line'>In that lone mother’s breast?</div>
+ <div class='line'>She knows not what befell,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And so is doubly blest:</div>
+ <div class='line'>No more her heart can tell.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>OLD SOULS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The world, not hushed, lay as in trance;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>It saw the future in its van,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And drew its riches in advance,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To meet the greedy wants of man;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Till length of days, untimely sped,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Left its account unaudited.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The sun, untired, still rose and set,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Swerved not an instant from its beat:</div>
+ <div class='line'>It had not lost a moment yet,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Nor used in vain its light and heat;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But, as in trance, from when it rose</div>
+ <div class='line'>To when it sank, man craved repose.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A holy light that shone of yore</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He saw, despised, and left behind:</div>
+ <div class='line'>His heart was rotting to the core</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Locked in the slumbers of the mind</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not beat of drum, nor sound of fife,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Could rouse it to a sense of life.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A cry was heard, intoned and slow,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of one who had no wares to vend:</div>
+ <div class='line'>His words were gentle, dull, and low,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And he called out, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ <div class='line'>He peddled on from door to door,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And looked not up to rich or poor.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His step kept on as if in pace</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With some old timepiece in his head,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Nor ever did its way retrace;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Nor right nor left turned he his tread</div>
+ <div class='line'>But uttered still his tinker’s cry</div>
+ <div class='line'>To din the ears of passers-by.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>So well they knew the olden note</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Few heeded what the tinker spake,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though here and there an ear it smote</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And seemed a sudden hold to take;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But they had not the time to stay,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And it would do some other day.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Still on his way the tinker wends,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Though jobs be far between and few;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But here and there a soul he mends</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And makes it look as good as new.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Once set to work, once fairly hired,</div>
+ <div class='line'>His dull old hammer seems inspired.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Over the task his features glow;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He knocks away the rusty flakes;</div>
+ <div class='line'>A spark flies off at every blow;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>At every rap new life awakes.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The soul once cleansed of outward sins,</div>
+ <div class='line'>His subtle handicraft begins.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Like iron unannealed and crude,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The soul is plunged into the blast;</div>
+ <div class='line'>To temper it, however rude,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>’Tis next in holy water cast;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then on the anvil it receives</div>
+ <div class='line'>The nimblest stroke the tinker gives.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The tinker’s task is at an end:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Stamped was the cross by that last blow.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Again his cry, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Is heard in accents dull and low.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He pauses not to seek his pay,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>That too will do another day.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>One stops and says, ‘This soul of mine</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Has been a tidy piece of ware,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But rust and rot in it combine,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And now corruption lays it bare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Give it a look: there was a day</div>
+ <div class='line'>When it the morning hymn could say.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The tinker looks into his eye,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And there detects besetting sin,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The decent old-established lie,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That creeps through all the chinks within.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Lank are its tendrils, thick its shoots,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And like a worm’s nest coil the roots.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Like flowers that deadly berries bear,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His seed, if tended from the pod,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Had grown in beauty with the year,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Like deodara drawn to God;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Now like a dank and curly brake,</div>
+ <div class='line'>It fosters venom for the snake.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The tinker takes the weed in tow,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And roots it out with tooth and nail;</div>
+ <div class='line'>His labour patient to bestow,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Lest like the herd of men he fail.</div>
+ <div class='line'>How best to extirpate the weed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Has grown with him into a creed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His tack is steady, slow, and sure:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He plucks it out, despite the howl,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With gentle hand and look demure,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As cunning maiden draws a fowl.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He knows the job he is about,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And pulls till all the lie is out.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Now steadfastly regard the man</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who wrought your cure of rust and rot!</div>
+ <div class='line'>You saw him ere the work began:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Is he the same, or is he not?</div>
+ <div class='line'>You saw the tinker; now behold</div>
+ <div class='line'>The Envoy of a God of old.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>This said, he on the forehead stamps</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A downward stroke and one across,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then straight upon his way he tramps;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His time for profit, not for loss;</div>
+ <div class='line'>His task no sooner at an end</div>
+ <div class='line'>Than out he cries, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As night comes on he enters doors,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He crosses halls, he goes upstairs,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He reaches first and second floors,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Still busied on his own affairs.</div>
+ <div class='line'>None stop him or a question ask;</div>
+ <div class='line'>None heed the workman at his task.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Despite his cry, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which into dull expression breaks,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not moved are they, nor ear they lend</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To him who from old habit speaks;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet does the deep and one-toned cry</div>
+ <div class='line'>Send thrills along eternity.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He gads where out-door wretches walk,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where outcasts under arches creep;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Among them holds his simple talk.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He lets them hear him in their sleep.</div>
+ <div class='line'>They who his name have still denied,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He lets them see him crucified.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>On royal steps he takes a stand</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To light the beauties to the ball;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He holds a lantern in his hand,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And lets his simple saying fall.</div>
+ <div class='line'>They deem him but some sorry wit</div>
+ <div class='line'>Serving the Holy Spirit’s writ.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>They know not souls can rust and rot,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And deem him, while he says his say,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The tipsy watchman who forgot</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To call out ‘Carriage stops the way!’</div>
+ <div class='line'>They know not what it can portend,</div>
+ <div class='line'>This mocking cry, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>While standing on the palace stone,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He is in workhouse, brothel, jail;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He is to play and ball-room gone,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To hear again the beauties rail;</div>
+ <div class='line'>With tender pity to behold</div>
+ <div class='line'>The dead alive in pearls and gold.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>In meaning deep, in whispers low</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As bubble bursting on the air,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He lets the solemn warning flow</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Through jewelled ears of creatures fair,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who, while they dance, their paces blend</div>
+ <div class='line'>With his mild words, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And when to church their sins they take,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And bring them back to lunch again,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And fun of empty sermons make,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He whispers softly in their train;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And sits with them if two or more</div>
+ <div class='line'>Think of a promise made of yore.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Of those who stay behind to sup,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in remembrance eat the bread,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He leads the conscience to the cup,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His hands across the table spread.</div>
+ <div class='line'>When contrite hearts before him bend,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Glad are his words, ‘Old souls to mend.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>XXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The little ones before the font</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He clasps within his arms to bless;</div>
+ <div class='line'>For Childhood’s pure and guileless front</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Laughs back his own sweet gentleness.</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Of such,’ he says, ‘my kingdom is,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For they betray not with a kiss.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He goes to hear the vicars preach:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They do not always know his face,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Him they pretend the way to teach,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And, as one absent, ask his grace.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not then his words, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ <div class='line'>Their spirits pierce or bosoms rend.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He goes to see the priests revere</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His image as he lay in death:</div>
+ <div class='line'>They do not know that he is there;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They do not feel his living breath,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though to his secret they pretend</div>
+ <div class='line'>With incense sweet, old souls to mend.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>XXX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He goes to hear the grand debate</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That makes his own religion law;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But him the members, as he sate</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Below the gangway, never saw.</div>
+ <div class='line'>They used his name to serve their end,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And others left old souls to mend.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Before the church-exchange he stands,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where those who buy and sell him, meet:</div>
+ <div class='line'>He sees his livings changing hands,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And shakes the dust from off his feet.</div>
+ <div class='line'>May be his weary head he bows,</div>
+ <div class='line'>While from his side fresh ichor flows.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>From mitred peers he turns his face.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where priests convoked in session plot,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He would remind them of his grace</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But for his now too humble lot;</div>
+ <div class='line'>So his dull cry on ears devout</div>
+ <div class='line'>He murmurs sadly from without.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>XXXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He goes where judge the law defends,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And takes the life he can’t bestow,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And soul of sinner recommends</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To grace above, but not below;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Reserving for a fresh surprise</div>
+ <div class='line'>Whom it shall meet in Paradise.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He goes to meeting, where the saint</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Exempts himself from deadly ire,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But in a strain admired and quaint</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Consigns all others to the fire,</div>
+ <div class='line'>While of the damned he mocks the howl,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And on the tinker drops his scowl.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Go here, go there, they cite his word,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While he himself is nigh forgot.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He hears them use the name of Lord,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He present though they know him not.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though he be there, they vision lack,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And talk of him behind his back.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>XXXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Such is the Church and such the State.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Both set him up and put him down,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Below the houses of debate,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Above the jewels of the crown.</div>
+ <div class='line'>But when ‘Old souls to mend!’ he says,</div>
+ <div class='line'>They send him off about his ways.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He is the humble, lowly one,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In coat of rusty velveteen,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who to his daily work has gone;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In sleeves of lawn not ever seen.</div>
+ <div class='line'>No mitre on his forehead sticks:</div>
+ <div class='line'>His crown is thorny, and it pricks.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>On it the dews of mercy shine;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>From heaven at dawn of day they fell;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And it he wears by right divine,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Like earthly kings, if truth they tell;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And up to heaven the few to send,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He still cries out, ‘Old souls to mend!’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>VENUS URANIA</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Is this thy Paphos,—the devoted place</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where rests, in its own eventide, thy shrine?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To thee not lone is solitude divine</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where love-dreams o’er thy waves each other chase</div>
+ <div class='line'>And melt into the passion of thy face!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The twilight waters, dolphin-stained, are thine;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The silvery depths and blue, moon-orbed, entwine,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And in bright films thy rosy form embrace,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Girdling thy loins with heaven-spun drapery</div>
+ <div class='line'>Wove in the looms of thy resplendent sea.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The columns point their shadows to the plain</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And ancient days are dialed o’er again;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The floods remember: falling at thy feet,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Upon the sands of time they ever beat.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE CRIPPLE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A brook beneath the hill-side flows</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Amid the downs, whose chalky sweep</div>
+ <div class='line'>A scant though tender herbage grows,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Cropped close by scattered flocks of sheep.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And there a group of huts is seen</div>
+ <div class='line'>Dotted along a village green.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Yet, buildings of a statelier look</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That poor sequestered valley grace:</div>
+ <div class='line'>An inn beside the village brook;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A church beside the burial-place.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Save at the park, the trees are few;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Still the old graveyard has its yew.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Beyond the park, the ring-dove’s haunt,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Red bricks insult the smokeless sky:</div>
+ <div class='line'>There stands the workhouse, bare and gaunt,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Like the drear soul of poverty,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And frowns upon a mossy fen,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where willows crouch like agéd men.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>All life surrounds the roadside inn,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The home of welcome and good cheer,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where barmaid scores the gill of gin</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And oft-repeated pot of beer:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Unlike the fashion of the town—</div>
+ <div class='line'>To drink and fling the money down.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The wife, with eggs and milk for sale,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Wrapt in the coat of her good man,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Stops there and takes her drop of ale</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While waiting for her empty can,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And, nodding at the landlord’s sport,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Keeps for the last her smart retort.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The goodman, always on his mare,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Stops with familiar nod and wink,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And bids the landlord with him share</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His amber draught of foamy drink;</div>
+ <div class='line'>With chuckling joke concludes his say,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And laughs when out of hearing’s way.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There with his team the carter stays,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The water-trough his horses find;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Worn out himself, he little says—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No fun has he to leave behind.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Dull to the merry toper’s call,</div>
+ <div class='line'>His team he follows to their stall.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The squire, addicted not to chat,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But seldom draws the rein or speaks;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Seeing the landlord touch his hat,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Into a quiet trot he breaks;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though at election, oft he stops</div>
+ <div class='line'>To praise the children and the crops.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Between the horse-trough and the door</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A widow’s son was wont to stand.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He was a cripple, crutched and poor,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Yet always ready with a hand,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Pleased when on trifling errands sent,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With little recompense content.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>So oft a copper coin the boy</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Would earn, that helped to buy him bread,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Too glad to get a light employ:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The parish all his mother’s dread.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Hard had she worked to earn him food</div>
+ <div class='line'>Through all her weary widowhood.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>More did that mother love her son</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Than had he been the fairest born;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He was her pride to look upon,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Though shrunk of limb and feature worn:</div>
+ <div class='line'>May be she loved him all the more</div>
+ <div class='line'>For that his legs were crookt and sore.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As a wrecked vessel on the sand,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The cripple to his mother clung:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Close to the tub he took his stand</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While she the linen washed and wrung;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And when she hung it out to dry</div>
+ <div class='line'>The cripple still was standing by.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When she went out to char, he took</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His fife, to play some simple snatch</div>
+ <div class='line'>Before the inn hard by the brook,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While for the traveller keeping watch,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Against the horse’s head to stand,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Or hold its bridle in his hand.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Sometimes the squire his penny dropped</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Upon the road for him to clutch,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Which, as it rolled, the cripple stopped,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Striking it nimbly with his crutch.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The groom, with leathern belt and pad,</div>
+ <div class='line'>E’en found a copper for the lad.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The farmer’s wife her hand would dip</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Down her deep pocket with a sigh;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Some halfpence in his hand would slip,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When there was no observer nigh;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Or give him apples for his lunch,</div>
+ <div class='line'>That he loved leisurely to munch.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But for the farmer, what he made,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>At market table he would spend,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And boys who used not plough or spade</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Had got the parish for their friend;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He paid his poor rates to the day,</div>
+ <div class='line'>So let the boy ask parish-pay.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Yet would the teamster feel his fob,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The little cripple’s heart to cheer,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Himself of penny pieces rob,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That he begrudged to spend in beer;</div>
+ <div class='line'>His boy, too, might be sick or sore,</div>
+ <div class='line'>So gave he of his thrifty store.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A sheep-worn walk along the brook</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The cripple loved, for there the gush</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of water thralled him as it shook</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The ragged roots of the green rush,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Which with its triple flowers of pink</div>
+ <div class='line'>Stood ripe for gathering at the brink.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The heather bristles round the knoll,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where inlaid moss and leaflets blend:</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis there he sits and ends his stroll,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His crutch beside him as his friend,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And looks upon the other bank,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where blue forget-me-not grows rank;</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where purple loosestrife paints the sedge;—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where bryony and yellow bine,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Locked in blush-bramble, climb the hedge,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And white convolvulus enshrine.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Nestled in leaves, they all appear</div>
+ <div class='line'>Each other’s flowers to nurse and rear.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There mused he like a child of yore—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>By Nature’s simple teachings led;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The cog and wheel of human lore</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Not yet were stirring in his head;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The Shaper of his destiny</div>
+ <div class='line'>He felt was smiling from the sky.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There with soft notes his fife he fills,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A mere tin plaything from the mart,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But his thin fingers as it thrills,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To that poor toy a grace impart,</div>
+ <div class='line'>While it obeys his lips’ control,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And is a crutch unto his soul.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>At church he longed his fife to try,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where oboe gave its doleful note,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where fiddle scraped harsh melody,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where bass the rustic vitals smote.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Such old-day music was in vogue,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And psalms were sung in village brogue.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His cheerful ways gave many cause</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>For wonder; such ill-founded joy</div>
+ <div class='line'>To others’ mirth would give a pause:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His soul seemed lent him for a toy,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though on his infant face was age</div>
+ <div class='line'>To mark him for life’s latter stage.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Dead is his crutch on moping days—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>’Tis so they call his sickly fits,</div>
+ <div class='line'>When by his side his crutch he lays,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in the chimney-corner sits,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Hobbling in spirit near the yew</div>
+ <div class='line'>That in the village churchyard grew.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Ah! it befell at harvest-time,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Such are the ways of Providence,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>That the poor widow in her prime</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Was fever-struck, and hurried hence;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then did he wish indeed to lie</div>
+ <div class='line'>Between her arms and with her die.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>XXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Who shall the cripple’s woes beguile?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who earn the bread his mouth to feed?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who greet him with a mother’s smile?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who tend him in his utter need?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who lead him to the sanded floor?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who put his crutch behind the door?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Who set him in his wadded chair,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And after supper say his grace?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who to invite a loving air</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His fife upon the table place?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who, as he plays, her eyes shall lift</div>
+ <div class='line'>In wonder at a cripple’s gift?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Who ask him all the news that chanced—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of farmer’s wife in coat and hat,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of squire who to the city pranced—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To draw him out in lively chat?</div>
+ <div class='line'>This flood of love, now but a surf</div>
+ <div class='line'>Left on a nameless mound of turf.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>XXX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Some it made sigh, and some made talk,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To see the guardian of the poor</div>
+ <div class='line'>Call for the boy to take a walk,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And lead him to the workhouse door:</div>
+ <div class='line'>With lifted hands and boding look</div>
+ <div class='line'>They watched him cross the village brook.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE INFANT MEDUSA</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+ <div><span class='sc'>By Poseidon</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>I loved Medusa when she was a child,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her rich brown tresses heaped in crispy curl</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where now those locks with reptile passion whirl,</div>
+ <div class='line'>By hate into dishevelled serpents coiled.</div>
+ <div class='line'>I loved Medusa when her eyes were mild,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose glances, narrowed now, perdition hurl,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As her self-tangled hairs their mass unfurl,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Bristling the way she turns with hissings wild.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Her mouth I kissed when curved with amorous spell,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Now shaped to the unuttered curse of hell,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Wide open for death’s orbs to freeze upon;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her eyes I loved ere glazed in icy stare,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Ere mortals, lured into their ruthless glare,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She shrivelled in her gaze to pulseless stone.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE LILY OF THE VALLEY</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There was a wood, it does not change,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Not while the thrush pipes through its glades,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And she who did its thickets range</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Has willed her sunbeam to its shades.</div>
+ <div class='line'>There still the lily weaves a net</div>
+ <div class='line'>With bluebell, primrose, violet.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The wood is what it was of old,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A timber-farm where wildflowers grow.</div>
+ <div class='line'>There woodman’s axe is never cold,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That lays the oaks and beeches low.</div>
+ <div class='line'>But though the hand of man deface,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The lily ever grows in grace.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Of loving natures, proudly shy,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The stock-doves sojourn in the tree,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With breasts of feathered cloud and sky,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And notes of soft though tuneless glee:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Hid in the leaves they take a spring,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And crush the stillness with their wing.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The wood is deep-boughed, and its glade</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Has ruts of waggon to and fro;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet where the print of wheel is made</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The bracken ventures still to grow;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And where the foot of man may goad,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The ants are toiling with their load.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The wood, even old in olden days,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No longer alters with the year.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The gnarléd boughs, to Nature’s ways</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Inured, their honours mildly bear.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And she who there has fixed her beam</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is still remembered as a dream.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There many a legend of the wood</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Has hovered from the olden time,</div>
+ <div class='line'>When, with their sooths and sayings good,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Men told not of its youth or prime.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The hollow trunks were hollow then,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And honoured like the bones of men.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There like nine brethren, Nature’s own,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Nine trees within a circle stand,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And to a temple’s shape have grown,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Each trunk a column tall and grand.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And, there, a raven-oak uprears</div>
+ <div class='line'>Its dome that whitens with the years.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>’Mid these, while on the earth at play,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She, the true beam of living spring,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The playmate of the lily’s ray,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Learnt of the piping thrush to sing.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The lily’s leaves were then her nest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Its buds half-nestled in her breast.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>To her whose beam was lily-bright</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>’Neath brakes that hide the sky above,</div>
+ <div class='line'>A primrose seemed a holy sight:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Loveless itself, it taught her love.</div>
+ <div class='line'>It was her welcome to the bowers,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And lured her fingers to its flowers.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Not yet to her was Nature’s age</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In gnarled and hollow shapes revealed:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The buds and leaflets stamped her page,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And all that Death could say concealed.</div>
+ <div class='line'>To gnarled and hollow Nature cold,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She had not caught the sense of old.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When folk who gossiped thereabout</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Asked the child’s name,—the child so pale,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>With looks that gave a sweetness out,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She answered, ‘Lily of the Vale.’</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not then her eyes had dew-drops shed</div>
+ <div class='line'>In early tribute to the dead.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Alas! her parents came to die;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She was not then too young to weep.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Through all the wood was heard her cry;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Till with her sobs she fell asleep,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And o’er her slumber shot those beams</div>
+ <div class='line'>That with a shiver visit dreams.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The lilies in their nest had died,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Violets were closed, their petals crushed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The bracken-stalks were parched and dried,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The flowers she loved no longer blushed.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Towards sorrow did her soul ascend;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her dawn of joys was at an end.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The oak spread o’er her troubled sleep,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She sees a gnarled and hollow form</div>
+ <div class='line'>Whose riven branches seem to creep,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Loosed from their long-enchanted storm,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And like a phantom in the air</div>
+ <div class='line'>It sets on her its naked stare.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>That oak she oft had seen before,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in its empty cell had played,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But felt not it was bald and hoar</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With the green ivy o’er it laid.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Now have those thoughtless moments flown</div>
+ <div class='line'>And with the oak she is alone.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Then she beheld o’ersnowed with age,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her grandsire trembling in the wind,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Smiling on her, his heritage,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The child his son had left behind.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Old was she now, for she could see</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her grandsire agéd like the tree.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As flowers her eager heart once fired</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With love for things that came and passed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>These visions in her soul inspired</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>An awe of sadder things that last:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The sire by age and trouble bent,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The tree by storm and lightning rent.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Sleep left her, but her startled gaze</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Met not the sire beside the oak</div>
+ <div class='line'>There standing in its leafless maze</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As in her dream, when she awoke.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where was the sire? She could not see</div>
+ <div class='line'>The face that smiled beside the tree.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And then she towards the cottage ran,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There was the sire in his retreat,</div>
+ <div class='line'>There was he still,—the agéd man,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Calm-sitting on his mossy seat,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And of her dream, as true, she spoke</div>
+ <div class='line'>While resting ’neath the raven-oak.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He told her how the raven reared</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her young ones on the leafy crest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And now the oak by lightning seared</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Could give no shelter for a nest.</div>
+ <div class='line'>With this her simple thoughts he led</div>
+ <div class='line'>To how the bird the prophet fed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Then did she feel that he was poor;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That on a scanty crust he fared.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She longed to see within his door</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The frugal meal she oft had shared,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And prayed the raven in her need</div>
+ <div class='line'>To do for them the loving deed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Through every grove she poured her lay,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>This drooping Lily of the Vale;</div>
+ <div class='line'>As through the brakes she took her way</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She told the thrush her touching tale,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And bade it in her service press</div>
+ <div class='line'>The bird that waits on man’s distress.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>So, like a creature on the wing,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She spoke her griefs to all she met.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The thrush had taught her how to sing</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Soft notes to all things living set;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Conies that peeped from out the grass,</div>
+ <div class='line'>They had no fear and let her pass.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She thought the thrush with mellow song</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Would answer to her simple strain,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She thought the other birds would throng</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To bring the raven back again,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But not to her the raven sped</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who brought from heaven the prophet’s bread.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Meantime her grandsire day by day</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Was hungered, hopeless though he smiled,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For he would hide his pains away</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>From her, the watchful, loving child.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She saw him sink upon his bed</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not by the kindly raven fed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Again through brake and bush she flew;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Beyond the wood there lay the field</div>
+ <div class='line'>And paths unknown broke on her view;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Must she to childish terror yield?</div>
+ <div class='line'>She looked at heaven and saw its scope,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Taught by her mother there was hope.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>XXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And then she to her mother said,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘Can God the prophet’s raven spare?</div>
+ <div class='line'>For grandsire lies upon his bed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And cannot earn his daily fare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>All father’s work he leaves undone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And says I soon shall be alone.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Then she went on and seemed to tread</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The buoyant air that past her blew,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But cast her looks about in dread,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As o’er the footless path she flew.</div>
+ <div class='line'>At last she stayed to breathe her fear,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>All was so strange, and no one near.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And then she to her father said,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘Can God the prophet’s raven spare?</div>
+ <div class='line'>For grandsire lies upon his bed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And cannot earn his daily fare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He leaves the work you left undone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And says I soon shall be alone.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>XXX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Her slackening pace now plainly told</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The way was long for timid feet.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She felt her heart no longer bold:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Oft she looked back her wood to greet.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her wood from sight a moment gone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She felt herself indeed alone.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She stood where hills and valleys blend;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>One struggle more, and heaven seemed nigh.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Beyond where fields and woods ascend,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She saw a mansion towering high,</div>
+ <div class='line'>A noble lady’s home, that seemed</div>
+ <div class='line'>To her the heaven of which she dreamed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Could I,’ she thought, ‘that hill ascend,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Then should I see the lady’s face.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She lives above, where troubles end,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And I have found her heavenly place.</div>
+ <div class='line'>God gives her plenty for the poor,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who come home laden from her door.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>XXXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She looked till flashed across her dreams</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A sight that all her spirit fired;</div>
+ <div class='line'>A form behind the window gleams,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Could it be she so long desired?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Through windows in that stately pile,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She thought she saw a human smile.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And then she to the lady said,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘Can God the prophet’s raven spare?</div>
+ <div class='line'>For grandsire lies upon his bed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And cannot earn his daily fare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>All father’s work he leaves undone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And says I soon shall be alone.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The mansion stood against the sun:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There long she looked for her reply.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The ball of fire whose course had run,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Filled with its red the western sky,</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Twas awful to her childish sight:</div>
+ <div class='line'>She turned her troubled steps for flight.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>XXXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Dared she but enter at the gate</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To reach that mansion vast and fair,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then could she all her tale relate</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To that sweet lady dwelling there.</div>
+ <div class='line'>But all her little courage fled:</div>
+ <div class='line'>With fainting steps she homeward sped.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>First slowly, then with swifter pace,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She outran terror at her heels,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As if to win with Death the race,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose shroud now brushing by she feels.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She starts at every rugged bank,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For with the sun her spirit sank.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The orb, yet vast beyond the height,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Had set more early in the wood;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But o’er the trees the lingering light</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Spread floating in a rosy flood.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The birds sank one by one to rest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As pale and paler grew the west.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>XXXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She spied her cot, O vision sweet!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A rushlight through the lattice flamed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And threw its radiance at her feet,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As it the grudging twilight shamed.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Through diamond panes a glimpse to catch,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She held her finger on the latch.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XL</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>No sound, no breath she heard above,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where grandsire in the garret lay.</div>
+ <div class='line'>But one was there whose looks of love,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘Poor little orphan,’ seemed to say.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She knew the chaplain’s kindly face;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The bearer of the lady’s grace.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XLI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Where hast thou been, my darling maid?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Reply to one who likes thee well.’</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘To fetch the raven home,’ she said;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘And him my grandsire’s wants to tell.</div>
+ <div class='line'>I stood beneath the raven-tree</div>
+ <div class='line'>And found no bird to succour me.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>XLII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Why call the raven to thy door,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Thy little heart’s distress to share?’</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Because,’ said she, ‘the sire is poor,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And has not earned his daily fare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>All father’s work he leaves undone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And says I soon shall be alone.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XLIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘To kiss thee, child, he would have stayed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>For oft he called thee to his side.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where didst thou wander, little maid?’</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘I went across the world so wide.</div>
+ <div class='line'>I looked at heaven and saw its scope,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Taught by my mother there was hope.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XLIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘I looked for mother in the sky:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She taught me there my wants to tell;</div>
+ <div class='line'>I looked for father standing by,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>For both among the happy dwell;</div>
+ <div class='line'>I cried to them with heart of care,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Can God the prophet’s raven spare?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>XLV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Then I came nigh a stately pile,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where those who ask seek not in vain.</div>
+ <div class='line'>I looked, and saw a human smile,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And thought a lady looked again.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Through windows I beheld her face,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As she looked from her heavenly place.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XLVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘And then I to the lady said,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>“Can God the prophet’s raven spare?</div>
+ <div class='line'>For grandsire lies upon his bed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And has not earned his daily fare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>My father’s work he leaves undone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And says I soon shall be alone.”’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XLVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Thou art not all alone, my child;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Thy griefs that righteous lady hears:</div>
+ <div class='line'>She loves a spirit undefiled;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her heart is open to thy tears.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thy father’s work at last is done,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And thou shalt never be alone.’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE LOVER’S DAY</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Gorse-plains that flower their gold into the streams</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Beneath the opal blossoms of the sky;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Sea-floods that weave their blue and purple seams;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>White sails that lift the billows as they fly:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Not these in their abounding rapture vie</div>
+ <div class='line'>With love’s diviner dreams.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Those lovers tire not when the sun is pale;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No statelier awning than a bristled tree</div>
+ <div class='line'>With branches cedared by the salten gale,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Stretched back, as if with wings that cannot flee:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They linger, and the sun departs by sea;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He spreads his crimson sail.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>They watch him as he piles his busy deck</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With golden treasure; as his sail expands;</div>
+ <div class='line'>They see him sink; they gaze upon the wreck</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Through the still twilight of the silvery sands.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>One cloud is left to the deserted lands:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The blue-set moon’s cold fleck.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>They linger though the pageant hath gone by,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The opal cloud is lit o’er sea and plain;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The moon is full of one day’s memory,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And tells the tale of Nature o’er again,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Its glory mingled in the soul’s refrain</div>
+ <div class='line'>Under that lover’s sky.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE DEADLY NIGHTSHADE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There was a haunt, it does not change,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Not while the fiend its path invades;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But he who did its alleys range</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Has willed his penance to its shades.</div>
+ <div class='line'>There still the nightshade breathes its pest</div>
+ <div class='line'>On fallen spirits not at rest.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>It is the haunt it was of yore,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A den where thieves and harlots creep,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where Nature’s voice is heard no more,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where guilt-stained men night-vigil keep,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And crimes like months afresh appear,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Ere one runs out, another near.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A haunt where all in common share</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sleepless hour, the murderous toil;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where Death on all has set his stare,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To drag them forth, to grasp their spoil:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Between their gallows and their den,</div>
+ <div class='line'>A hardening sight for other men.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>This is the charnel that doth hide</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A frantic woman who at play</div>
+ <div class='line'>Has lost her wealth of virgin pride,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And reckless games her soul away;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Whose scarlet rags, deep-dyed, replace</div>
+ <div class='line'>The blushes of her maiden face.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A mother’s bitter hour sets in;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Wrecked on her breast the infant lies,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As if to perish for its sin,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There set adrift from human ties</div>
+ <div class='line'>Till its ear-piercing scream prevail</div>
+ <div class='line'>And sullen pity hush the wail.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where only shadows rise and set,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And love at morn awaketh not,</div>
+ <div class='line'>This child of woe his being met,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To share a loveless parent’s lot,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And at his birth his sentence meet</div>
+ <div class='line'>Before a mother’s judgment-seat.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The mother moaning in the gloom</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Laughed when a peaceful breath he drew,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Too conscious of his early doom.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>On wounded wings the tidings flew,</div>
+ <div class='line'>On bosoms pitiless they fell:</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘A child of heaven was born in hell!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His place of birth the skies deplored,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No trees, no brooks, no meadows seen;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And still his heart those skies adored</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Before he saw the fields were green.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Born amid broils, in squalor bred,</div>
+ <div class='line'>His soul knew not to where it sped.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The child is taught through many a blow</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To shed with sobs the beggar’s tear,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Reared as a prodigy of woe</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That gentle women pay to hear.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And many listened and bestowed;</div>
+ <div class='line'>For younger tears had never flowed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Held at his mother’s hand, he hung</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A broken spray with misery’s drip;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And often to the ground he clung,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His passion bursting at his lip.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And still she dragged him o’er the stones,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though tender was he to the bones.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Her eyes of prey like fangs were laid</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>On all who gave a hurried look.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And while she whined for kindly aid,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She hid away the coin she took,</div>
+ <div class='line'>When suddenly she begged no more</div>
+ <div class='line'>And rushed within a slamming door.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>With nostrils spread, and eyes aflame,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Before the shrine of death she stands,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The infant by her, sick and lame,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The lava trembling in her hands.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She drinks it with a vengeful frown;</div>
+ <div class='line'>She feels the fiend of sorrow drown.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Now in a prison left to rage,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She thirsts, she burns with vain desire</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her deadly sickness to assuage,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To quench its fiery pang in fire.</div>
+ <div class='line'>With what a mother sent to dwell,</div>
+ <div class='line'>This child of heaven reared up in hell!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Not far away from infancy—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Through weary time a single stage,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The livelong years had hustled by</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But left him still of tender age,</div>
+ <div class='line'>When from his mother’s reach he fled,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Outside the doors to make his bed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where odours wander, dank and foul,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Through crowded streets and alleys lone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>By day and night his footsteps prowl;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His wants, not many, asked by none:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The roads were new he hourly crossed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet was his way not wholly lost.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When hunger like a conscience cries,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He asks the needy to bestow,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Afraid to raise his drooping eyes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Except to those who famine know;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Such he believes their crust will break,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And share with him for pity’s sake.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Hopeful, he glides into a den</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Up whose dusk path a shudder flew,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And asks of sick, half-famished men</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose strength no plenty could renew.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet with what startling oaths they rave</div>
+ <div class='line'>And bid him run his neck to save!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Still to the poor is his appeal,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And they his mild entreaty spurn:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Some whisper, Be a man and steal;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Some bid him to the gallows turn.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Child-like he credits all he hears,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And rests his troubled heart in tears.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He rests,—but oft starts up in fear;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His mother’s driving shadow breaks</div>
+ <div class='line'>Upon his slumber unaware,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And sleep’s too light repast awakes</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where dreams the festive board have spread</div>
+ <div class='line'>And turned his sorrow into bread.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Hope, ’mid those shapes of famine sent,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Smiles on him;—she is Childhood’s bride!</div>
+ <div class='line'>The mother’s image, o’er him bent,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Cannot the angel wholly hide,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not when her halo o’er him plays,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And all but hunger’s pang allays.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>How did he long for once to taste</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of the forbidden food whose smell</div>
+ <div class='line'>From cellar gratings ran to waste!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Gusts that the passing crowd repel.</div>
+ <div class='line'>As when a rose some maid regales,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The grateful vapour he inhales.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Less favoured than the dog outside,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He lingers by some savoury mass;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He watches mouths that open wide,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And sees them eating through the glass.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Oft his own lips he opes and shuts,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And sympathy his fancy gluts.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>So, oft a-hungered has he stood,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And yarn of fasting fancy spun,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As wistfully he watched the food,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With one foot out prepared to run,</div>
+ <div class='line'>In vague misgiving of his right</div>
+ <div class='line'>To revel in the dainty sight.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Harmless, yet to the base akin,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He feels a blot no eye could see,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And drags his rags about his skin</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To hide from view his pedigree.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He deems himself a thief by birth,</div>
+ <div class='line'>An alien on the teeming earth.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He begs not, but as in a trance</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Admires the gay and wealthy throng;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But if the curious on him glance,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He is abashed and slinks along;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He cares no more, the spell once broke,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Scenes of false plenty to invoke.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The man of charity beholds</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His vagrant looks with pent-up grief;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He stops, reproves; he gently scolds,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But fails to give the child relief;</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘So sad,’ he says, ‘to see them thrive</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who on another’s earnings live.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>XXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Then comes the child, this ill-sown seed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To sweep the purlieus and the wynds,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But few bethink them of his need,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And scanty is the help he finds.</div>
+ <div class='line'>At times he walks upon his head:</div>
+ <div class='line'>A form of prayer for daily bread.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Now seem his days for sorrow made!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He hears that men on Sunday pray;</div>
+ <div class='line'>A world’s proud secret on parade</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To him appears the Sabbath-day.</div>
+ <div class='line'>All have asked heaven to take their cares,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But hunger says for him his prayers.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Some words have reached him such as jar</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>On sinners’ ears and seem devout;</div>
+ <div class='line'>They are but as a light from far,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They come from heaven and soon die out,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Too weak as yet to turn a spell</div>
+ <div class='line'>Wove in the alphabet of hell.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>FLOWERS ON THE BANK</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Flowers on the bank,—we pass and call them gay:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The primroses throw pictures to the mind,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The buttercups lag dazzlingly behind,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And daisy-friends we spy but do not say</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A word of joy;—thoughts of them follow not,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And soon are they forgot.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>What care we for wildflowers except their name?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Bright maidens at the sight in rapture start,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which, as our smiles say, comes not from the heart:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Flowers dance not, sing not, all their ways are tame;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They love not, neither love in us inspire;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Nor blush when we admire.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Yet stay, the fingers of that panting child</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Have culled for us the choice ones,—many a gem,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Have set their lovely colours stem to stem</div>
+ <div class='line'>In her fond hands they are not tame or wild,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Nestled in fringy fern so changed appears</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The little gift she bears!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She gives herself, and she can dance and sing,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And she can love inspire and blush at praise;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The flowers are part of her, have caught her ways;</div>
+ <div class='line'>She gives herself who gives so sweet a thing.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And she is gone, with other thoughts than ours</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Gathering fresh love and flowers.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE BLIND BOY</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>In dark ascent the pine-clad hills</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Repose on heaven their rocky crest.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Lit by the flash of falling rills</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That in the valley-shadow rest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Chafing in rainbow-spray that finds</div>
+ <div class='line'>Its sunshine in the gusty winds.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Clouds folded round the topmost peaks</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Shut out the gorges from the sun:</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis mid-day ere the early streaks</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of sunshine down the valley run;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But where the opening cliffs expand,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The early sea-light breaks on land.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Before the sun, like golden shields,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The clouds a lustre shed around;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Wild shadows gambol o’er the fields;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Tame shadows stretch upon the ground.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Towards noon the great rock-shadow moves,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And takes slow leave of all it loves.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The beam-shot clouds dissolve apace;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Stray shades that linger like a scroll,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Draw nearer to their craggy base,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in clefts and caverns roll;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The light falls down the rocky piles;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The vale a lake of glory smiles.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There dwell two orphans: Heaven ordains</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sister’s eyes shall live in light:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her brother in the shade remains</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When morning bursts upon her sight.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Sister and brother, far and wide</div>
+ <div class='line'>As one they wander side by side.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When to the shore through woods and fields</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The brother has a wish to stray,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The sister takes the hand he yields;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She by fond habit leads the way.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Skipping along, oft face to face,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her hand directs his timid pace.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The plains that strike the grey-white line</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where earth’s dim curve in distance fades;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The streams that near the dwelling shine;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The quiet meads; the rustling glades;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The sand-dunes waiting on the shore,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The sister’s eyes for him explore.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis all his own, but her loved hand,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her gentle voice, her sayings dear,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Are choicer gifts than all the land</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That he inherits far and near,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For all his light is in her mind,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>The path he loses she can find.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>At early morn, embraced by her,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He sits within the shadow’s dip</div>
+ <div class='line'>To list to his sweet minister,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And paint his visions from her lip.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He sees the waters, earth, and skies</div>
+ <div class='line'>Only through her enchanted eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Her eyes are bright, his now are blind;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>All he once saw has passed away,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But her fond visions fill his mind,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And there disclose the dawn of day.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her morning breaks upon his night,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Enlivened by her spirit’s light.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She tells him how the mountains swell,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>How rocks and forests touch the skies;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He tells her how the shadows dwell</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In purple dimness on his eyes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Whose tremulous orbs the while he lifts,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As round his smile their spirit drifts.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>More close around his heart to wind,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She shuts her eyes in childish glee,</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘To share,’ she says, ‘his peace of mind;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To sit beneath his shadow-tree.’</div>
+ <div class='line'>So, half in play, the sister tries</div>
+ <div class='line'>To find his soul within her eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His hand in hers, she walks along</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And leads him by the river’s brink;</div>
+ <div class='line'>She stays to catch the water’s song,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Closing her eyes with him to think.</div>
+ <div class='line'>His ear, more watchful than her own,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Had caught the ocean’s distant moan.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘The river’s flow is bright and clear,’</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The blind boy said, ‘and were it dark</div>
+ <div class='line'>We should no less its music hear:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Sings not at eventide the lark?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Still when the ripples pause, they fade</div>
+ <div class='line'>Upon my spirit like a shade.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Yet, brother, when the river stops</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in the quiet bay is hushed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>E’en though its gentle murmur drops,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>’Tis bright as when by us it rushed;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not like a shade, when heard no more,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Except beneath the wooded shore.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Now the resounding beach, wave-swept,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Greets them; now silence softly bears</div>
+ <div class='line'>The likeness of the wave that leapt</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Unseen, and broke upon their ears.</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Dear sister, tell me once again</div>
+ <div class='line'>The wonders of the sea’s domain!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Down the moist sands she guides his way,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And gazes on the lonesome shores,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where desultory waves at play,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Enthral her looks ere she explores</div>
+ <div class='line'>The far-off deep; ere those quick eyes</div>
+ <div class='line'>Rove o’er the waters, cliffs, and skies.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘The farthest seas bend as a bow</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Into the light, o’er-arching sky;</div>
+ <div class='line'>There, curdled breakers row on row</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With scarce a motion, distant lie;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Or if one vanish from the rest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>It shows again its snowy crest.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘But nearer, midway toward the sands,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I see long lines of billows creep;</div>
+ <div class='line'>One stops and into froth expands,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Then fades away upon the deep;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Close to the shore the waves contend,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And shouting reach the journey’s end.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>While her bright tones upon him broke</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The curtain from his soul was drawn;</div>
+ <div class='line'>His spirit quickened as she spoke,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Then flashed as at a sudden dawn,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With visions of a world once known,</div>
+ <div class='line'>That for the moment seemed his own.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘O tell me of the changing sky,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Sunless once more!’ ‘’Neath lovely blue,’</div>
+ <div class='line'>The sister says, ‘the clouds float by,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of orange, white, and inky hue.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The shifting waves that cannot rest</div>
+ <div class='line'>Are ’neath the gusty breezes pressed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘A cloud is loosened from the sun;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sea’s sky-blue now skims the green,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Chasing the billows as they run</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And drip their foam in troughs between.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Oh, could you see them as they roar,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Scooping away the glistening shore!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘The waves,’ he said, ‘before me fall,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And memories of a long-lost light</div>
+ <div class='line'>From far-off mornings on me call,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And what I hear comes into sight.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The beauteous skies flash back again,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But, ah! the light will not remain!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Awhile he pauses; as he stops,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her little hand the sister moves</div>
+ <div class='line'>And pebbles on the water drops,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As it runs up the sandy grooves,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Or to her ear a shell applies,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With parted lips and dreaming eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘That noise!’ said he, with lifted hand.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘The sea-gull’s scream and flapping wings,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Before the wind it flies to land,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And omens of a tempest brings.’</div>
+ <div class='line'>She tells him how the sea-bird pale</div>
+ <div class='line'>Whirls wildly on the coming gale.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘And is the sea alone? Even now</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I hear faint mutterings,—not the waves’;</div>
+ <div class='line'>It seems a murmur sweeping low</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And hurrying through the distant caves.</div>
+ <div class='line'>I hear again that smothered tone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As if the sea were not alone.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>XXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Heaven slopes o’er us on every side,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And shuts us from the distant land.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The waters only here abide,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And we who sit upon the sand.</div>
+ <div class='line'>A porpoise revels in the spray,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And purple vapours veil the bay.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Come, hasten,’ cries she, ‘to the woods</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where twisted boughs are thickly set,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For soon the rain must fall in floods:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Here is no shelter from the wet.</div>
+ <div class='line'>While like a sea the sky upheaves,</div>
+ <div class='line'>We’ll watch beneath the matted leaves.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Stay, sister! Listen to that sound;—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>It thunders—does the flash appear?’</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘It lightens now, and, whirling round,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The gull dips low, as if in fear.’</div>
+ <div class='line'>The boy now turns his floating eyes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though not the way the sea-bird flies.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>XXX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘The wind is balmy on my cheek,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But now I feel the rain-drop plash.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Let us,’ he said, ‘the woodland seek,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And hear it on the foliage dash.</div>
+ <div class='line'>On the ground-ivy we shall tread,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And through the grove its perfume spread.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And so they prattle as they leave</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sandy beach, in pensive mood,</div>
+ <div class='line'>His ear turned to the billow’s heave,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her vision leaning on the wood,</div>
+ <div class='line'>While, as the honeysuckle clings,</div>
+ <div class='line'>About his neck her arm she flings.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Better than she the blind boy hears</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The whispers of the patient shore,</div>
+ <div class='line'>While yet the wave its crest uprears</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To break once more,—and evermore.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Better than she the blind boy feels</div>
+ <div class='line'>The simple pictures she reveals.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>XXXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Clapping her hands, she spies above</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Rich elms, the turrets grey and old,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>But love of home was only love</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When to her darling brother told.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thus ever to his soul replies</div>
+ <div class='line'>The infant passion of her eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>While they return, the dwelling near,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>One word must yet the sister say.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She lifts her voice: ‘O brother dear,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>If good my eyes have been to-day,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Kiss them for every new delight</div>
+ <div class='line'>That kindles in your spirit’s sight!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Deep in his eyes the love-lights strove;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He clasped her in a close embrace:—</div>
+ <div class='line'>With lips that shook with grateful love</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He kissed her eyes—he kissed her face—</div>
+ <div class='line'>He wept upon that tender brow;</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Dearest, the darkness leaves me now!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>XXXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘I view all beauty through your eyes;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I see within, you see outside.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Your love has raised me to the skies,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Once narrow,—lofty now and wide,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And not, as once, of sombre hue;</div>
+ <div class='line'>For I can dream the dark to blue.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘The upward-toiling hill; the stream;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The valley; the wide ocean’s sweep;</div>
+ <div class='line'>All take the colours of a dream,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The glories of the land of sleep.</div>
+ <div class='line'>You are my soul, my eyes, my sight;</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis dark no more, you are my light.’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>WHEN I THINK OF THEE, BROTHER</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When I think of thee, brother,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Is my heart not all thine?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet the face of another</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Seems bending o’er mine.</div>
+ <div class='line'>I call thee by name, yet a name not thy own</div>
+ <div class='line'>Has whispered already its dear undertone.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When I think thine eyes greet me,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Their sweet flash of blue</div>
+ <div class='line'>Brings another’s to meet me</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of somberer hue;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And ever before me they seem to remain,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though my heart but repines to behold thee again.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When I list, and would hear thee</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Once more in our home,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And thy voice appears near me,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Another’s has come.</div>
+ <div class='line'>I dream of thee only, for thee only sigh,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet thy image forsakes me; another’s is nigh.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When thy fond smiles come o’er me,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As in moments now flown,</div>
+ <div class='line'>There riseth before me</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A look not thy own:</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis thee I recall to my mind, O my brother!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet ever with thine comes the gaze of another.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>ECCE HOMO!</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He strikes his staff to find his way,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He feels but may not see the day.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The warm sun floods his sightless eyes</div>
+ <div class='line'>That tremble in answer to the skies:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet oft he stays as if to look</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>At memories of the scenes of yore,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The vine and fig-tree at his door,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The pleasant places by the brook.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The voice within him sighs aloud,</div>
+ <div class='line'>When murmurs of a moving crowd</div>
+ <div class='line'>Fall on his ear; he breathes the dust</div>
+ <div class='line'>But, with a blind man’s sturdy trust,</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>He grasps his staff, and oft he cries,</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Who cometh here?’ A voice replies,</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘O blind man, turn thy step aside,</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis Christ!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in10'>The name rings in his ears:</div>
+ <div class='line'>With flashing hopes and ashen fears,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There stands he breathless, startling all.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Some stop, some into ranks divide,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Their arms outspreading lest he fall.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He drops his staff, throws out his hands,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His fingers are creeping like things that see:</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Mid all the multitude he stands</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And shouts, ‘Have mercy, Lord, on me!’</div>
+ <div class='line'>His shaking beard, his tottering frame,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His eye-balls in their sockets turning,</div>
+ <div class='line'>His lips delirious with that name,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>O’er his blind face a look is burning</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of dreadful greed, with mouth agape,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Crazed for some good that may escape.</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Take my hand, some one; let me feel</div>
+ <div class='line'>His raiment only; it may heal.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Christ heard the blind man’s cry, and grieved</div>
+ <div class='line'>Because a soul in darkness heaved.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He said, ‘What seekest thou of Me?’</div>
+ <div class='line'>But in that presence came a fear:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The man held earthly blessings dear,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet more than all was heavenly light.</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Lord, that I may receive my sight,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That I may my Redeemer see!’</div>
+ <div class='line'>Christ loved him and his anguish soothed.</div>
+ <div class='line'>He took his hand, He gently smoothed</div>
+ <div class='line'>The seams upon his wrinkled brow:</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Tell Me what thou beholdest now.’</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Men, dim as shaking trees, I see:</div>
+ <div class='line'>O Lord, I crave to look on Thee!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Then said the Saviour, ‘Look afar.’</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The blind man raised his dazèd eyes.</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘I see, Lord, above Thee a new-risen star,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And beneath it a babe in a manger lies.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Hoary men, kneeling, their gifts prefer:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Frankincense, gold, and sacred myrrh.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>Now a mother, a father, a babe softly sleeping</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>By waters that dream where the lotus bloom reigns;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Shadows of evening over them creeping;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The broad moon breaking o’er palm-bearing plains,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where the ibis croaks and the jackal cries,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And pyramids point to the purpling skies.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in2'>He pauses, still he looks afar.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He still beholds the guiding star,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And dreamlight of a sacred river</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>O’er his lone eyes seems still to quiver.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Sudden, as if the distant air</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Stripped the blue curtain from the skies,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He sees prophetic nature bare,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When, as with far-off voice, he cries—</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Lo! a face to heaven in agony gleaming,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Stained of sorrow, but soil-less of sin,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Sweat that is blood breaking and streaming</div>
+ <div class='line'>From brows that are throbbing of anguish within,—</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>Praying for those that do strip Him and scourge Him</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As a cross on His quivering shoulders they place.</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Neath its burden He sinks while they mock Him, they urge Him,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They crown Him with thorns, they spit in His face.</div>
+ <div class='line'>They are lifting Him, bruising Him, piercing Him, nailing Him</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To the cross, that is dyed in a crimson flood.</div>
+ <div class='line'>See, the sun hides his head, see the vapour enveiling him,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Hark, the earth and the skies in the darkness bewailing Him</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who dieth for those that are shedding His blood.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He starts, a hand is on his brow.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He looks at Christ in meek surprise,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Tears gather in his new-lit eyes;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘’Tis He, the crucified!’ he cries:</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Yes, I behold the Saviour now!’</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The adoring people kneel around;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The healed one sinks on the hallowed ground,</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>Then goes his way in silence and in awe;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>For his unsullied eyes had seen</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sight that from the first had been,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The sight that nature like a prophet saw.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE SNAKE CHARMER</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The forest rears on lifted arms</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Its leafy dome whence verdurous light</div>
+ <div class='line'>Shakes through the shady depths and warms</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Proud trunk and stealthy parasite,</div>
+ <div class='line'>There where those cruel coils enclasp</div>
+ <div class='line'>The trees they strangle in their grasp.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>An old man creeps from out the woods,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Breaking the vine’s entangling spell;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He thrids the jungle’s solitudes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>O’er bamboos rotting where they fell;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Slow down the tiger’s path he wends</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where at the pool the jungle ends.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>No moss-greened alley tells the trace</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of his lone step, no sound is stirred,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Even when his tawny hands displace</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The boughs, that backward sweep unheard:</div>
+ <div class='line'>His way as noiseless as the trail</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of the swift snake and pilgrim snail.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The old snake-charmer,—once he played</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Soft music for the serpent’s ear,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But now his cunning hand is stayed;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He knows the hour of death is near.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And all that live in brake and bough,</div>
+ <div class='line'>All know the brand is on his brow.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Yet where his soul is he must go:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He crawls along from tree to tree.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The old snake-charmer, doth he know</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>If snake or beast of prey he be?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Bewildered at the pool he lies</div>
+ <div class='line'>And sees as through a serpent’s eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Weeds wove with white-flowered lily crops</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Drink of the pool, and serpents hie</div>
+ <div class='line'>To the thin brink as noonday drops,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in the froth-daubed rushes lie.</div>
+ <div class='line'>There rests he now with fastened breath</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Neath a kind sun to bask in death.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The pool is bright with glossy dyes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And cast-up bubbles of decay:</div>
+ <div class='line'>A green death-leaven overlies</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Its mottled scum, where shadows play</div>
+ <div class='line'>As the snake’s hollow coil, fresh shed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Rolls in the wind across its bed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>No more the wily note is heard</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>From his full flute—the riving air</div>
+ <div class='line'>That tames the snake, decoys the bird,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Worries the she-wolf from her lair.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Fain would he bid its parting breath</div>
+ <div class='line'>Drown in his ears the voice of death.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Still doth his soul’s vague longing skim</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The pool beloved: he hears the hiss</div>
+ <div class='line'>That siffles at the sedgy rim,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Recalling days of former bliss,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And the death-drops, that fall in showers,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Seem honied dews from shady flowers.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There is a rustle of the breeze</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And twitter of the singing bird;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He snatches at the melodies</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And his faint lips again are stirred:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The olden sounds are in his ears;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But still the snake its crest uprears.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His eyes are swimming in the mist</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That films the earth like serpent’s breath;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And now—as if a serpent hissed—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The husky whisperings of Death</div>
+ <div class='line'>Fill ear and brain—he looks around—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Serpents seem matted o’er the ground.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Soon visions of past joys bewitch</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His crafty soul; his hands would set</div>
+ <div class='line'>Death’s snare, while now his fingers twitch</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>At tasselled reed as ’twere his net.</div>
+ <div class='line'>But his thin lips no longer fill</div>
+ <div class='line'>The woods with song; his flute is still.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Those lips still quaver to the flute,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But fast the life-tide ebbs away;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Those lips now quaver and are mute,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But nature throbs in breathless play:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Birds are in open song, the snakes</div>
+ <div class='line'>Are watching in the silent brakes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>In sudden fear of snares unseen</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The birds like crimson sunset swarm,</div>
+ <div class='line'>All gold and purple, red and green,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And seek each other for the charm.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Lizards dart up the feathery trees</div>
+ <div class='line'>Like shadows of a rainbow breeze.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The wildered birds again have rushed</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Into the charm,—it is the hour</div>
+ <div class='line'>When the shrill forest-note is hushed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And they obey the serpent’s power,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Drawn, to its gaze with troubled whirr,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As by the thread of falconer.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As ’twere to feed, on slanting wings</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They drop within the serpent’s glare:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Eyes flashing fire in burning rings</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which spread into the dazzled air;</div>
+ <div class='line'>They flutter in the glittering coils;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The charmer dreads the serpent’s toils.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>While Music swims away in death</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Man’s spell is passing to his slaves:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The snake feeds on the charmer’s breath,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The vulture screams, the parrot raves,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The lone hyena laughs and howls,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The tiger from the jungle growls.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Then mounts the eagle—flame-flecked folds</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Belt its proud plumes; a feather falls:</div>
+ <div class='line'>He hears the death-cry, he beholds</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The king-bird in the serpent’s thralls,</div>
+ <div class='line'>He looks with terror on the feud,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>And the sun shines through dripping blood.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The deadly spell a moment gone—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Birds, from a distant Paradise,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Strike the winged signal and have flown,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Trailing rich hues through azure skies:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The serpent falls; like demon wings</div>
+ <div class='line'>The far-out branching cedar swings.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The wood swims round; the pool and skies</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Have met; the death-drops down that cheek</div>
+ <div class='line'>Fall faster; for the serpent’s eyes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Grow human, and the charmer’s seek.</div>
+ <div class='line'>A gaze like man’s directs the dart</div>
+ <div class='line'>Which now is buried at his heart.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The monarch of the world is cold:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The charm he bore has passed away:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The serpent gathers up its fold</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To wind about its human prey.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The red mouth darts a dizzy sting,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And clenches the eternal ring.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>PYTHAGORAS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>’Twas not the hour of death the Master feared:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He oft had died before, his soul had passed</div>
+ <div class='line'>Through many moulds, as each new cycle neared</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Hoping the Golden Day had come at last.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But like a giant ’neath the weight of age</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Hope was bowed down, and oft had ceased to see</div>
+ <div class='line'>Among the spheres the looked for heritage</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where rest the pure from earth’s illusions free.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Whither doth this metempsychosis tend?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Doubt stirs the heavy question in his breast.</div>
+ <div class='line'>All that begins is toiling towards its end;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Oblivion hath for all its day of rest.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And when a universe of death absorbs</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Into its hungry vortex all that is:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The compact colonies of settled orbs,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The untamed meteors of the free abyss;</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And when, at length, the lamp of day is spent,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And the charred air of night supplants the skies,</div>
+ <div class='line'>What were the soul without its tenement,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Without these feeling hands, these seeing eyes?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Even the blest dawn he once had hoped to find</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>May rise while he in darkness dwells below;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yes, all may fail him now; the troubled mind</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>May end at last, and not its ending know.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Such were his thoughts, and while his death hour grew</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They pressed into his heart such poignant pangs</div>
+ <div class='line'>As even the lordliest intellect subdue</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When life, yet wavering, in the balance hangs.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis past: A cycle’s lustres have run out,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And his unquickened soul in ashes sleeps,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Perturbed no longer by the wasting doubt,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Weak as a babe ere in the womb it leaps;</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Still as a vessel stranded by the tide</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In shallows whereunto no waters drift,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Looming at anchor on its mouldering side</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That neither winds disturb nor billows lift.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Yet throes half-stir the drowsings of the grave,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As when one turns in sleep with heavy sense</div>
+ <div class='line'>That what suspended being he may have</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Is better, yet awhile, with Providence.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But all is like the passing of a breath.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No eager promptings snatch the loosened thread</div>
+ <div class='line'>Wherein is meshed the memory of death:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He knows himself, but not that he is dead.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Another cycle bears the cumbrous night</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Unbroken, save as funeral clouds may roll</div>
+ <div class='line'>And for a moment cross the path of light:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>So shines the ethereal darkness of his soul.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Still through these mists of death the cycles shone,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His soul benumbed, in utter silence hushed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Advancing time-like through oblivion,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And pace for pace with all that o’er him rushed,—</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When to his grave a sense of nature came,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But with no conscious meaning or surprise:</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Twas the old flutter of the dying flame,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Tremulousness of being without eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>At last a voice, familiar as to seem</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His own, heard in his sleep and heeded not,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Broke through the patient whisper of his dream,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Remembered but to be as soon forgot.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>It presages some mighty morrow near</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When his long baffled soul once more shall rise:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The muffled cycles fall upon his ear,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And his dust flutters with the centuries.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Awake, Pythagoras, it seems to say,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The looked-for morn is breaking o’er the earth:</div>
+ <div class='line'>It grows, it brightens to the perfect day;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Behold man’s resurrectionary birth!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His thoughts take shape, his pent-up senses move,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His soul looks out from that abysmal sleep.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Lo! shadows of the living world above</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Before his eyes in dreamy pageant sweep.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And in the midst there shone a god-like youth,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who on his brow the Crown of Sorrow wore,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And there was meekness, innocence, and truth;—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Eidolon of his highest hope of yore.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Hath it then come at last, the world of peace?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Hath he awakened to that ampler life</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where hate and lust of blood shall ever cease,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And all the bitter days of human strife?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The world is hushed: must then the cycles end</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That ever deepen his immortal tomb?</div>
+ <div class='line'>The wondrous ladder must he re-ascend</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To truths revolving round a virgin womb?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Even so it seems when, hark! the upper air</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Rings to the battle’s rage—the soldier’s tread</div>
+ <div class='line'>Echoes above his tomb! In dark despair</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He turns his face unto the silent dead.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The Master sleeps—the ages onward roll—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>O twice nine stormy cycles since o’erpast!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Bore they through eddying lives and deaths a soul</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Still dreaming towards its Golden Day at last?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The heavens are as they were, the sun, unworn,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Seems on the blue of yesterday to rest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And drops below; but when shall come the morn</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He dreamt of, when shall break that morrow blest?</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE FIRST SAVED</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Lucilla lives in yon half-hidden star</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Bowered in a dreamy, soft-skied, watery vale,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where angels gather from bright worlds afar,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To see her face, and listen to her tale.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As if all sunset revelled in the air,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The rosy clouds float o’er her paradise,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Home of the once lone daughter of despair</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who prayed through tears with ever downcast eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The lucent hills pant in the azure beams,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Behind empurpled steeps that blend below</div>
+ <div class='line'>With trembling woods and crystal-bearing streams,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in the sky-paved water-mirrors glow.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As rising stars entangle in their spheres</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>All the blue ether round, her look of thought</div>
+ <div class='line'>Hangs in heaven’s light, where her sad life appears</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A sunless vision in new sunshine wrought.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There doth she stand, bliss-stricken as by fear.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>On one soft hand she rests her chin and cheek,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Paling with rapture ere the blush appear;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And lips in tremors whisper that would speak.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Yes, I am here, and Heaven is undefiled!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>This sinless face and these all-loving eyes</div>
+ <div class='line'>God gave me when I was a little child,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Because I was to be in Paradise.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘I heard a voice and slavery’s loosened bond</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Fell from my soul, awaking me to die;</div>
+ <div class='line'>I looked into death’s mirror and beyond</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I saw these halls of immortality.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘My wounded heart lay in this bosom dead</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Ere it had loved—yet oft as I did pray</div>
+ <div class='line'>That these wan hands might labour for their bread,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Hope only came to prayer but did not stay.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Sin compassed me, it was my deadly fate;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Yet lovely visions in the darkness came,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And I fled trembling to the Temple’s gate</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But durst not cross the threshold for my shame.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘While on the Temple’s steps I sat in tears,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>One came and spoke: I gazed and I adored!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then did a voice that only woman hears</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whisper within: I listened, self-abhorred.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘’Twas He whose image visited my sleep.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But still He spake to me in words that gave</div>
+ <div class='line'>A world, and had soul-echoes clear and deep</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which widened ever like the circling wave.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘His image grew before my wondering mind—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His, ’mid whose many griefs my life began.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Enrapt I gazed, until my eyes were blind,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>On Him who in His pity dies for man.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘When the blest vision ceased, my eyes would droop</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in great dreams that holy Being meet;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then would He clothe me, lowly would He stoop,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And with His hands anoint my weary feet.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Thenceforth He was the rock that safely drew</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>My heart to shelter, as the gentle shore</div>
+ <div class='line'>Receives the broken wave: to Him it flew</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And the lulled sorrow beat on me no more.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Then o’er me flowed that stream of heavenly grace</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which all my infant innocence restored:</div>
+ <div class='line'>From that glad hour has rested on my face</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>This happy gaze of one who has adored.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘The living Saviour had my heart enthralled!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I saw His face, in His blessed footsteps moved;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And in my dreams His holy word recalled;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I knew not who He was: I only loved.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Then did I but remember things to come,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The reveries of pure delights above;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yes, to this blissful height my passion clomb,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And sin was silenced in the hush of love.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘In that o’ershadowing trance till death I lay:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Peace weighed upon me like the Saviour’s kiss.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Towards the beloved my eyes would fondly stray</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In sleeping rapture and awaking bliss.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Death with dis-shadowed hand had come betimes,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And bore my grave into the open skies.</div>
+ <div class='line'>And then I hearkened to the heavenly chimes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That cheered my soul’s ascent to Paradise.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘My end seemed consummated in the clouds:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There with the purple morn my slumber broke;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But tempting spirits hovered round in crowds</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And gathered like a storm as I awoke.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Upon the Temple’s highest pinnacle</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The Saviour stood in glory like the sun.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The rapture of my soul was at the full:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Eternal life had unawares begun.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘He from that holy height upon me gazed;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The angels in His glorious presence trod:</div>
+ <div class='line'>With outstretched wings I rushed to them amazed</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And flew into the open arms of God.’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>REMINISCENCE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>So you would leave me, little Rose?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Dear child, with all your mother’s ways;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That look she had in girlish days,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The look that with your beauty grows.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Oft when you bring her to my mind,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Before my heart has time for pain,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In you she seems to live again,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As though no sorrow were behind.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And when that happy, trustful gaze</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Meets him you love, yet more I see</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Your mother as she looked at me:</div>
+ <div class='line'>It is her own dear, watchful face.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And when he takes your hand in his,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There flits across your lips and eyes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her own pleased smile of half surprise:</div>
+ <div class='line'>It seems not like departed bliss.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Ah! what a heart-locked memory stirs—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I look, ’tis she, and you are gone!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Yes, though so many springs have flown,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her peace remains, our love is hers.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She sees your arms my neck enclose;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She sees your lips upon my brow.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No truer hour of love than now</div>
+ <div class='line'>Awaits your heart, my happy Rose!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>How they come back those days of old!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And now that ’tis your wedding-eve,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Now that for other scenes you leave,</div>
+ <div class='line'>One happy legend shall be told,—</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Told in this home, this sunny vale</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That for long years has been our own,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Sacred in days that long have gone</div>
+ <div class='line'>To many another lover’s tale.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>It was an hour like this, the sun</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Was sinking, yet had far to go:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The richness of his overflow</div>
+ <div class='line'>Down river, wood, and pasture shone.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Two lovers in this porch had met</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where often they had met in play:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>’Twas on this memorable day—</div>
+ <div class='line'>As though that sun had never set.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>These grey-mossed tiles still ’neath it scorch;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The glare and shade still side by side</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Aslant the mullioned casements glide</div>
+ <div class='line'>From yon old gable to the porch.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A youth has hurried from these walls—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He stops, as in a day-dream stands:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His shadow with fast-folded hands</div>
+ <div class='line'>As from yon stone sun-dial falls.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His eyes are full of one loved face</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Sunk pallid in her fingers cleft;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The long-loved one who just had left</div>
+ <div class='line'>In timid haste his wild embrace.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The love that with her childhood grew</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Had still to her unruffled clung;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Engaging, playful, ever young,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>And without change was ever new.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Not its glad pastimes she disowns;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He drew her to a higher love;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But while the pale emotion strove</div>
+ <div class='line'>She fled from his impassioned tones.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Transparent isles of rushes bind</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The rivers light with bars of green</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That catch the water’s blue between,</div>
+ <div class='line'>To where it darkens in the wind.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>There lies his boat, and now the sun,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Still going westward with the stream,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Appears to tow him on his dream</div>
+ <div class='line'>As they advance in unison.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Along the white and yellow meads,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which buttercup and daisy share,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The crowding cattle idly stare</div>
+ <div class='line'>As he winds through the matted reeds.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But her loved image fills his mind,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And, ever gazing at him, screens</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His eyes from those long-happy scenes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As he drifts by them, nature-blind.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The white-flowered weed whose tresses float,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Combed by the stream and water-waved,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Seems her bright hair in crystal laved,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Struggling to overtake his boat.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His sculls drip o’er the glossy wash:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The ripple of the mellow tide</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He scarce feels o’er their edges glide;</div>
+ <div class='line'>He lists not for the thrilling plash,</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But thinks, when last the tide he clove,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>How bank-side elms before him flew,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And quiet lay the distant view</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of woodland hill where dwelt his love.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>His memory holds it as the stream</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Holds all the shining summer round:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sky, the woods, the very sound</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of cuckoos chanting in a dream.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And how she loved the grey old bridge!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Those arches mirrored deep below,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That meet the pillars row to row,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Quivering from their ruffled ridge—</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Three tunnels open to the skies!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The tasselled mosses as they float,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Now still, now heaving with the boat</div>
+ <div class='line'>That passes while the vision flies.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As melt, with all the watery heaven,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Those arches hanging o’er a sky—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>So in the quiet of a sigh</div>
+ <div class='line'>The yearnings of his soul seemed riven.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The far-off boom of yonder weir</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Now rushes down the narrowed day:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Like sirens battling with the spray,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Once came its music to her ear.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>XXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The sun now trembles like a ball</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Heaven-forged and glittering in its blast;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A pale green halo round him cast—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Half quenched behind the waterfall.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>White streaks are creeping through the shade;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The moon climbs up the poplar trees:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But a loved form of light he sees,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As if her spirit walked the glade.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Well might it be, as since hath seemed,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>So holy are the vanished years.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But then her cheeks were under tears:</div>
+ <div class='line'>It was on them the moonlight gleamed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Her sobbings at his bosom fall;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Fonder than words can tell, they say</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her heart was his, half love, half play,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But now all love she gives it all.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>XXXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>’Twas she, your mother! While she hung</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her head, and hid her tears, and crept</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To me, as one who, erring, wept;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Wept more the closer that she clung;</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She seemed an infant in my arms—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Kissed me as would a child bereaved:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And then, as ’twere for joy, she grieved—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her heart released from its alarms.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>God bless you, Rose! That loving face—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Could she but see it! Well I knew</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her thoughts when last she looked at you,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who now have grown up in her place.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Ah, leave me, Rose! these memories stir</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Depths that you may not dream of, child!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>These tears till now your love has wiled;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Leave me, that I may think of her.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE SHEPHERDESS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>By one whose heart kept watch was heard the fame</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of a bright world that, like a ship of war,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Was launched in heaven beside the last that came</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>O’er the sky’s outer bar:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her land Chaldea, she that blessed name</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Gave to the coming star.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Child of a lord, they called on her to reign</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>O’er that old story-land whose shepherds deem</div>
+ <div class='line'>The stars a flock that studs a holy plain;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And she had learned in dream</div>
+ <div class='line'>That her loved land, through her, that star should gain</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And with its blessings teem.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But heartless deeds were of her father told</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who the fair daughters, in the mountains born,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Had captured and to days of slavery sold</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where bends the Golden Horn:</div>
+ <div class='line'>A shepherd chief, who robbed his neighbour’s fold,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And took the lamb unshorn.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She bears her crook o’er living plains, her way</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Through tents in which the thoughtful shepherds dwell</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who watch the heavens where the bright grazers stray</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And think they hear the bell</div>
+ <div class='line'>Whose holy tinklings, as they softly play,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The fates of men foretell.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>So doth she haste to meet her shepherd-seers,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And see the promised star that shall eclipse</div>
+ <div class='line'>The one which filled her father’s land with tears,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And learn from their own lips</div>
+ <div class='line'>The happy portents that to man it bears</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>From the new heaven it skips.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>While Tigris and Euphrates still o’erleap</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Their shallow bounds her camel slowly goes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>When nigh her tent, on vengeful errand, creep</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her father’s olden foes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And seize her, helpless, in her noon-day sleep</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While all her tribes repose.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>In a barred chamber, and in chains, a slave,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She weeps with eyes upon the Golden Horn,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And thinks of far-off waters as they lave</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Blest homes in Capricorn,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where happy beings find the Heaven that gave</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To her the star new-born.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Strangers have come and through her prison-gate</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They count her price and would her love allure;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But her eyes restless watch and wide dilate;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Their look can none endure,</div>
+ <div class='line'>So wild in sorrow and so mild in hate,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In majesty so pure.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>One comes towards whom the look of prayer she bends</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That seems to utter ‘Thou, my star, arise!’</div>
+ <div class='line'>And while that heaven-adoring thought ascends</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>New sorrows fill her eyes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>That tell how Love is dead and beauty ends</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When human pity dies!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>All that he has, the mystic life he bears,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>What is their worth, her soul in slavery?</div>
+ <div class='line'>He pays the ransom, breaks the chain she wears,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As though some god were he:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Voiceless, she offers up to him the tears</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her anguish has set free.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Handmaids and armed protectors are at hand,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>All that to queenly power and pomp pertains,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And, passing waters from the stranger-land,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her star-roofed home she gains,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where her sleek camels, crimson-girded, stand</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To bear her o’er the plains.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>In her slow path the faithful seers arrive</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And with prophetic tidings bid her cheer:</div>
+ <div class='line'>That night, they tell, the older worlds shall strive,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As the new star comes near,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And into depths of unknown darkness dive</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And find no other sphere.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But little heed gives she to their appeals:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The coming star, alas! not yet is found;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Deep-sighing in her silence, she reveals</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A heart in slavery bound:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her bonds are there, and there it is she feels</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The chain about her wound.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>’Mid joyous shouts she sees her open gates,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But enters not, up-gazing in the thought</div>
+ <div class='line'>That never sleeps or in her breast abates,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where is the star she sought!</div>
+ <div class='line'>But now a greater seer her advent waits;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He hath the tidings brought.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘The hour is come, the star is now in sight;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Portents of blessed change the heavens bestrew:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The shepherds upward gaze, the air is bright,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sky is gold and blue,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The ancient stars are on their downward flight</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And others come anew.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘And in the shower of burning worlds, self-hurled</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>From heaven to heaven, a lord is on his way</div>
+ <div class='line'>Around whose hosts the golden dust is whirled,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While, in divine array,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Green floats his shepherd-banner, wide-unfurled,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With flocks thereon at play.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The hour has come in clouds that hurry o’er</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her palace towers, and scatter while the rays</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of new-made light upon the valleys pour;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While flocks awake and graze,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And shepherds sing and the new star adore:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But she, beholding, prays.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The seer of seers stands forth, he takes her hands;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He cries, ‘Thy star is come! Be it to thee</div>
+ <div class='line'>A rich reward and to these teeming lands;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The lord, who made thee free,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Now in his earthly place before thee stands,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Thy guiding-star to be.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She looks at heaven; afar the cloud-vane drifts;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her face is pale, he comes, the lord is found:</div>
+ <div class='line'>She kneels, once more his slave; the stranger lifts</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The virgin from the ground,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And offers up for sacred wedding gifts</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The chains her heart had bound.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>FAREWELL TO NATURE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Vain love for Nature! How these heartaches rust</div>
+ <div class='line'>Into the soul as we return to dust!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Hope’s shadow only masks our eventide,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Feigning to lead us to its brighter side,</div>
+ <div class='line'>While yet the mellowing skies that wondrous grow,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Seem left in waiting for the dead below.</div>
+ <div class='line'>But those tranced sunsets,—little they avail,</div>
+ <div class='line'>None travel hence in their alluring trail;</div>
+ <div class='line'>All is a dream, an ancient dream, the same</div>
+ <div class='line'>From the first mortal to the last that came.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet could we but for once our eyes unclose</div>
+ <div class='line'>When through the distant days the pageant goes!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Familiar vision, and so soon to be</div>
+ <div class='line'>Entombed within the dead eternity.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Doth Nature know our dream, or is the mind</div>
+ <div class='line'>A passing breath her beauty leaves behind?</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>Ah! not for this our grateful souls have wrought</div>
+ <div class='line'>Around her sphere a universe of thought.</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis she inspires our dreams, but no reply</div>
+ <div class='line'>Vouchsafes the loving hearts that for her die,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who only pray, when life’s surprise is o’er,</div>
+ <div class='line'>They may partake a glimpse of her once more.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is it too late? She sees not to the end;</div>
+ <div class='line'>What she hath done she never can amend:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet once by us beloved, once only known,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She seems from all the past to be our own.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Last wish of age! How sweet one glance would be</div>
+ <div class='line'>Even from the sod the olden haunts to see;</div>
+ <div class='line'>To watch the long-drawn wavelets as they reach</div>
+ <div class='line'>The silent plains of the deserted beach;</div>
+ <div class='line'>To look where light once was, if but to know</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of its faint struggle through the winnowed snow.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Ah! whence this dream that like the cuckoo-guest</div>
+ <div class='line'>Pleads in such winning accents for a nest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And with its cloud-note ever on us calls,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And though it passes the fond heart enthralls?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Little it seems, this wish, when oft our sight</div>
+ <div class='line'>Tires of the world, yet what a fresh delight</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>Were it sometimes in death those scenes to view,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The olden scenes that to our youth were new,</div>
+ <div class='line'>To linger o’er a sound whose murmurs swell</div>
+ <div class='line'>Upon the heart,—the tinkling village bell,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>To find that all was safe, all gliding on</div>
+ <div class='line'>In beauty’s leisure ways though we were gone;</div>
+ <div class='line'>To see brave Nature in her perilous scheme</div>
+ <div class='line'>Advance without our help, without our dream.</div>
+ <div class='line'>At least ’twould hold ajar death’s open door</div>
+ <div class='line'>To think our love was honoured evermore,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>In dying, on the forward thought to dwell</div>
+ <div class='line'>That it was not our very last farewell.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Could hope unveil and not its mystic fire</div>
+ <div class='line'>Be lost among the embers of desire!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Ill though desponding hearts their burden bear,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is not the soul the master of despair?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is this great life, hard won, achieved in vain,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is good once found to never be again?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Ask of the worlds if they their path forget,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Ask hope that never ends, its time to set.</div>
+ <div class='line'>One deep desire throughout all being cries,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And this is hope, our future in disguise.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>O living lamp, O Hope, the only Seer;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of Nature’s after-time the pioneer,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Keep in advance across our starless way,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Be the new morrow of our orphan day!</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE POET’S FEAST</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The golden feast for jovial souls prepare</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose wants the wants of nature far exceed;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The nectar of the sun such palates need;</div>
+ <div class='line'>To them the fatted calf is vulgar fare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Earth’s dripping fruits may wandering Arabs share</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Pleased with the pulp and juice whereon they feed;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And bread alone is still the poor man’s meed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though milk abound and honey be to spare.</div>
+ <div class='line'>So dreams the Poet, with his crust content:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The crumbs that from the rich man’s table fall</div>
+ <div class='line'>To him are sorry signs of merriment</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To show the world has food enough for all.</div>
+ <div class='line'>At festive boards he has but little part—</div>
+ <div class='line'>To him ’twas given to feed on his own heart.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE EXILE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>They bore her to the northern snows</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose floods down ice-domed caverns run,</div>
+ <div class='line'>From lands where that calm river flows</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose depths decoy the vagrant sun,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where palms o’er latticed shadows rise</div>
+ <div class='line'>With boughs that web the sultry skies.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where roses climb the scent-steeped hills</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And channelled leaves with dew-drops flash,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Bending beneath the trickled rills</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That fall and the pink clusters splash;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where aloe-flowers, all flaming red,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Like watch-fires o’er the summit spread.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>They bore her to a desert plain</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where the dry, creviced mosses cling,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Sand-sprinkled as by drizzling rain;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where dark and ragged pine-boughs swing,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And the free cygnet in its flight</div>
+ <div class='line'>Darts with a meteor’s wingèd light.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Her father, last of mighty lords</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose deeds the war-like peasants tell,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Fearless had met the northern hordes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in the battle’s frenzy fell.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Full-armed he sleeps, and still the brave</div>
+ <div class='line'>Salute him as they pass his grave.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Now young, she thinks not of her race</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But feels its glory and its pride.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She still recalls her mother’s face</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who in her stately sorrow died,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And those large eyes her image keep,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And dream beside it in love’s sleep.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Eyes that are of the sultry zone—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That ofttimes in their musing moods</div>
+ <div class='line'>See rosy banks that seem their own</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where lies the waste: her olive-woods,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her sky with cypress-skirted folds,</div>
+ <div class='line'>All that she loves, her heart remoulds.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As in a desert one red rose</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Seems like a garden full of bloom,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She charms the wilderness, and throws</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her own bright colours o’er its gloom;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then at the falling cone’s rebound</div>
+ <div class='line'>Pomegranates gild the enchanted ground.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>And lest when dear illusions come</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>They melt o’er-fast, she hides her eyes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And feigns to see her native home,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And shouts in play her soul’s surprise.</div>
+ <div class='line'>So while the southern glory burns</div>
+ <div class='line'>The haunting vision still returns.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When spring bursts o’er the wintry plain</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And violet skies dissolve in spray,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And marsh-pools echo drops of rain</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That o’er the bud’s new secret play,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her soul seems darting from her eyes</div>
+ <div class='line'>To snatch at nature’s rhapsodies.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The serf who toils upon the road</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>From waste to waste with back that bears</div>
+ <div class='line'>Across the steppes another’s load,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With eyes that homeward gaze in tears,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Chills not for long a heart that glows</div>
+ <div class='line'>In its own fire ’mid northern snows.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where plough may delve or harrow graze,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She tramps beside the sluggish team</div>
+ <div class='line'>As fain to urge its tardy pace:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And when she drifts into some dream</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her laugh, her look of childish glee,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is still the joy of memory.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But fears flash o’er her mellow eyes</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>When gaunt sand-fountains, side by side,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Like giants in the distance rise,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Pass slowly by and onward glide,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Like shadows from her father’s land</div>
+ <div class='line'>That seek some rumoured icy strand.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Then day breaks through a sullen sky;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The keen air shivers;—doth she know</div>
+ <div class='line'>The blackened clouds now sailing by</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Are freighted with the virgin snow?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Dark ships of winter that unload</div>
+ <div class='line'>The widespread famine they forbode.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The snow-flakes build a prison-wall</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That slants high o’er her window sill;</div>
+ <div class='line'>She watches while they slowly fall,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Till heaven appears a sinking hill,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And darkness gathers o’er her mind:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Home is too far for hope to find.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>In new despair she sees heaven’s sand</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Has drifted o’er her cottage gate!</div>
+ <div class='line'>She fears that now her native land</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Is like the desert desolate.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The snow still falls and still it clings,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Soft dropped like insects’ broken wings.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Through the strange dusk she hears the shriek</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of trees snapped by the dreaded wind;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The casements shake, the rafters creak;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Ah! could she now her mother find!</div>
+ <div class='line'>With timid wings too weak for flight</div>
+ <div class='line'>She hangs upon the edge of night.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A wind’s moan utters, ‘Stir and go’:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Upon its gust she seems to glide</div>
+ <div class='line'>Towards lands beyond the falling snow</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But reaches not its further side.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She drops on the cold hilly steeps</div>
+ <div class='line'>And in her distant reverie sleeps.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>XVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>No longer now the large-eyed child,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who draws her charm so fresh from heaven,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Gives up its beauty to the wild;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The spell of infant faith is riven:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where the sun’s tender rays were sown</div>
+ <div class='line'>Stones have sprung up and ice-fields grown.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The spring still comes, when shallow snows</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Melt o’er a crisping flame of green</div>
+ <div class='line'>Wherein the nestled herbage glows</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Through its white shell,—but there is seen</div>
+ <div class='line'>A heart that still unthawed remains;</div>
+ <div class='line'>An exile of the loveless plains.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>When winter’s sun through summer shines,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The joys are banished that she brought:</div>
+ <div class='line'>For home, not dreams of home, she pines;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Thought is the food of famished thought.</div>
+ <div class='line'>It is her heart-corroding hour:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The rose-tree is without a flower.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>XXI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She feeds in broken reveries</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>On her chilled soul: within the light</div>
+ <div class='line'>Of those black lashes, those dark eyes,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The paling cheek seems over-bright,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With lips, like hanging fruit, whose hue</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is ruby ’neath a bloom of blue.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The friends who love her as their own</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Stir self-upbraidings in her breast,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For in their midst she is alone</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in their peace is without rest.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is there some home by them forgot?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Exiles they seem and suffer not.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Their native games to her impart</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A fitful joy, that sad appears,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Only because her eyes and heart</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Are vacant, and have room for tears.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She knows not yet ’tis love’s first throe:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The snowdrop breaking through the snow.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>XXIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>At length comes one whose love ere told</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Seems wafted o’er a flowery plain,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And brings her back that charm of old:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The days of childhood live again;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Griefs softened into joys return;</div>
+ <div class='line'>In love’s new-kindled incense burn.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>In silver-crimson trappings gay,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His tinkling barbs with billowy manes</div>
+ <div class='line'>Toss their strong necks before his sleigh—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And he has crossed the snowy plains.</div>
+ <div class='line'>She hails him, and, with heart aflame,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She wonders how such passion came.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Beauty and man’s strong soul are his.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Be the earth bare, paved o’er with ice,</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis full even to its dome in bliss:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The desert is her paradise,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where now the hourly deepening sky</div>
+ <div class='line'>Rains down on her love’s mystery.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>XXVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She hears his love and hears no more.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As waves might cease to beat, as winds</div>
+ <div class='line'>Might drop away on some charmed shore,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The word a soul-deep echo finds—</div>
+ <div class='line'>All her fond life is without breath,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And sinks away in rapturous death.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXVIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>New paths to home are overlaid</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With such deep sunshine, not a tree</div>
+ <div class='line'>In densest woods can cast a shade.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her glorious soul again is free,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Free in those bonds of love that wind</div>
+ <div class='line'>In bliss about the heart they bind.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XXIX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Warmer than in its childhood’s flush</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her cheek in this new passion glows;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not softer is the fitful blush</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of lily ’neath the swaying rose.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her head droops not as when she pined,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Now bowed in love’s own southern wind.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>XXX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A sun of passion is above;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her home is here,—in cloudless eyes</div>
+ <div class='line'>She sees the birth-place of her love,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And snows dissolve in burning skies.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Palm-leaves above her seem to bow</div>
+ <div class='line'>When bridal roses wreathe her brow.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE SIBYL</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A maid who mindful of her playful time</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Steps to her summer, bearing childhood on</div>
+ <div class='line'>To woman’s beauty, heedless of her prime:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The early day but not the pastime gone:</div>
+ <div class='line'>She is the Sibyl, uttering a doom</div>
+ <div class='line'>Out of her spotless bloom.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She is the Sibyl; seek not, then, her voice;—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A laugh, a song, a sorrow, but thy share,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With woes at hand for many who rejoice</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That she shall utter; that shall many hear;</div>
+ <div class='line'>That warn all hearts who seek of her their fates,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Her love but one awaits.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She is the Sibyl; days that distant lie</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Bend to the promise that her word shall give;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Already hath she eyes that prophesy,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>For of her beauty shall all beauty live:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Unknown to her, in her slow opening bloom,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She turns the leaves of doom.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE PAINTER</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Summer has done her work,’ the painter cries,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And saunters down his garden by the shore.</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘The fig is cracked and dry; upon it lies,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In crystals, the sweet oozing of its core.</div>
+ <div class='line'>The peach melts in its dusk and yellow bloom,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Grapes cluster to the earth in diadems</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of dripping purple; from their slender stems,</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Mid paler leaves, the dark-green citrons loom.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Summer has done her work; she, lingering, sees</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her shady places glare: yet cooler grow</div>
+ <div class='line'>The breezes as they stir the sunny trees</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose shaking twigs their ruby berries sow.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Ripe is the fairy-grass, we breathe its seeds,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But, hanging o’er the rocks that belt the shore,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Safe from the sea, above its bustling roar,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Here ripen, still, the blossom-swinging weeds.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Pale cressets on the summer waters shine,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No ripple there but flings its jet of fire.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Rich amber wrack still bronzing in the brine</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Is tossed ashore in daylight to expire.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Here wallowing waves the rocky shoal enwreathe,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And in loose spray, cascades of bubbles fall,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And steeps of watery, coral-mantled wall</div>
+ <div class='line'>Drink of the billow, and the sunshine breathe.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Summer has done her work, but mine remains.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>How shall I shape these ever-murmuring waves,</div>
+ <div class='line'>How interweave these rumours and refrains,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>These wind-tossed echoes of the listening caves?</div>
+ <div class='line'>The restless rocky roar, the billow’s splash,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And the all-hushing shingle—hark! it blends,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In open melody that never ends,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The drone, the cavern-whisper, and the clash.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘And this wide ruin of a once new shore</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Scooped by new waves to waves of solid rock,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Dark-shelving, white-veined, as if marbled o’er</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>By the fresh surf still trickling block to block!</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>O worn-out waves of night, long set aside—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The moulded storm in dead, contending rage,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Like monster-breakers of a by-gone age!</div>
+ <div class='line'>And now the gentle waters o’er you ride.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Can my hand darken in swift rings of flight</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The air-path cut by the black sea-bird’s wings,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then fill the dubious track with influent light,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While to my eyes the vanished vision clings?</div>
+ <div class='line'>While at their sudden whirr the billows start,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Can my hand hush the cymbal-sounding sea,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That breaks with louder roar its reverie</div>
+ <div class='line'>As those fast pinions into silence dart?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Press on, ye summer waves, still gently swell,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The rainbow’s parent-waters overrun!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Can my poor brush your snaky greenness tell,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Raising your sidelong bellies to the sun?</div>
+ <div class='line'>What touch can pour you in yon pool of blue</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Circled with surging froth of liquid snow,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which now dissolves to emerald, now below</div>
+ <div class='line'>Glazes the sunken rocks with umber hue?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Summer has done her work; dare I begin—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Painting a desert, though my pencil craves</div>
+ <div class='line'>To intertwine all tints with heaven akin?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Nature has flung her palette to the waves!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then bid my eyes on cloudy landscape dwell,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Not revel in thy blaze, O beauteous scene!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Between thy art and mine is nature’s screen,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>Transparent only to the soul,—farewell!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Oh! could I paint thee with these ravished eyes,—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Catch in my hollow palm thy overflow,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who broadcast fling’st away thy witcheries!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Yet would I not desponding turn and go.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Be it a feeble hand to thee I raise,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>’Tis still the worship of the soul within:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Summer has done her work,—let mine begin,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Though as the grass it wither in thy blaze.’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE SUN-WORSHIPPER</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As a wild comet through the night she hies,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her face bent towards the temple of the sun,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With golden hair that on the darkness lies</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Like break of dawn when daylight, scarce begun,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Meanders into flame whose flashes run</div>
+ <div class='line'>Along the lower skies.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Soon as the sun lifts up the morning haze</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She rushes towards him; sinks unto the ground</div>
+ <div class='line'>And, clasping the all-shining Presence, prays</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In his first beams: again her god is found;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The startled shadows that her heart surround</div>
+ <div class='line'>Are dizzy in his rays.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Thee I adore, O Sun! this heart is thine!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The youth who blindly claims its ecstasy</div>
+ <div class='line'>Seeks not thy temple, honours not thy shrine;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He kneels not, utters not his vows to thee,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who all the worlds beyond this world canst see,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And mak’st all things divine.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The sunflowers turn to heaven as still she kneels;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Shall then her heart its coming vow deplore?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Not uttered yet, all utterance it reveals,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And she restrains her ecstasy no more:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her burning lips the hasty vow outpour</div>
+ <div class='line'>Which her heart-trouble seals.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Never, O Sun! till sinking in the west</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Thou risest where thy wondrous setting spreads,</div>
+ <div class='line'>While all who love thee slumber in thy rest,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Shall he, who proudly in thy presence treads,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Enthrall me in the light his beauty sheds,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Or wed me to his breast!’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Silence has tongues; she hears a sister say,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘List to the voice of thy companion-mind!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thy love is still the same as yesterday;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>It has not passed, it only lags behind,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And thou art lonely as the wistful wind</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thou meet’st upon the way.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Yet she repeats her vow, her heart in pain,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To draw some love from heaven, as from the well</div>
+ <div class='line'>Whose radiant springs she once craved not in vain:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But ebbing hope allures her by its spell</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To past despair, on other days to dwell,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>And suffer them again.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Across the hills of heliotrope she creeps,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Or winds within the many-shadowed wolds,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Till once again the sun her pathway sweeps,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And from her weary feet the way withholds;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sacred flowers embrace her in their folds;</div>
+ <div class='line'>From dawn to dawn she sleeps.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She sleeps; so still, not even her shadow veers,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Save when from side to side the moonflood roves;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But in sky-dreams the sun to her appears,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Yet with the visage of the one she loves;—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>All through her sleep in phantom light he moves,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And still that face he bears.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She sleeps, and with the beaming of a bride</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Beholds that face; ah! never to be wed!</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet why a tear, no sorrow shall betide:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Though distant borne, his rays on her are shed;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her soul, along his way of glory sped,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Shall in his light abide.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She wakes up with the sun, but in his rise</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Sees the rich twilight of her love-dream wane:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Day seems to sink in the deserted skies,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Whose broken, many-coloured beams remain</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As of her dream whose night comes back again;</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Twas dawn had closed her eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>XII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The cloud-slopes blossom still, but cold and lone;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Down them she floated in those heavenly dreams,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And still the veil that o’er her slumbers shone</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Hangs gold-wrought in the fervour of those beams.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She kneels while watching the last fading gleams</div>
+ <div class='line'>O’er the grey twilight thrown.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>With speechless lips she questions the chill blaze:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Behold the sun returns; that brighter flush</div>
+ <div class='line'>Were surely day? Yet she mistrusts her gaze</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Though the light widens and with lordly rush</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The sun bursts forth in morning’s youthful blush</div>
+ <div class='line'>And floods the heaven with rays.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XIV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Trembling she sees the paleness of her face</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In those white clouds which now the sun surround,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who doth in heaven his spectral way retrace.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Behold, the days brought back, the hours unwound,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The angry sun unto the zenith bound</div>
+ <div class='line'>And the pale moon replace!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>XV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Perplexed, all lost, she staggers to the height</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where the twelve pillars in their beauty shine,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The temple circling in the blessed light;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There prostrate doth she o’er her vow repine;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But fears to meet the arbiter divine</div>
+ <div class='line'>Who banishes the night.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>From the lone steps at length she looks above:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Behold, the face is there that filled her dreams;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The youth adored, triumphant o’er her love,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There radiant shines amid descending beams;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His lustrous hair in the rich sunshine streams,</div>
+ <div class='line'>With golden lights inwove.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>XVII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She lifts her arms, she falls upon the face</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She loved in heaven; her yearning heart, too blest,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Doth in deep sobs its erring way retrace.</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>All passion weeps, while gathers in her breast</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A bliss that bears her spirit to its rest</div>
+ <div class='line'>In that divine embrace.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE INSCRUTABLE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>I</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Dread under-life whose dreams</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Along the midnight rush,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Poured out like cavern-streams</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>That from the darkness gush,</div>
+ <div class='line'>A murderous thought has issued forth to flood</div>
+ <div class='line'>A maiden’s sleep in blood.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>II</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He that hath swum the heaven</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Of woman’s loving eyes—</div>
+ <div class='line'>To him a dream is given,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As helplessly he lies,</div>
+ <div class='line'>A dream that never nigh his thought had passed,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Till in that slumber cast.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>III</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He loves her and she loves,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>But stern her father’s heart</div>
+ <div class='line'>That every passion moves</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Their holy hope to thwart.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Can they, meek sleepers, on dream-demons call</div>
+ <div class='line'>To burst the iron thrall?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>IV</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>That night in dreams that sway</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The soul to shedding blood,</div>
+ <div class='line'>One hears his own voice say</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In sleep’s half-weary mood,</div>
+ <div class='line'>‘Take down your father’s sword and quickly slide</div>
+ <div class='line'>The blade into his side.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>V</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Disguise the seeming guilt,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And bend his fingers round,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And put them on the hilt,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And leave him to his wound.’</div>
+ <div class='line'>In that strange dream until the break of day,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Asleep the lover lay.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>VI</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>He wakes, aghast; he strives</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To get the vision hence</div>
+ <div class='line'>That into morning lives,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And fastens on his sense.</div>
+ <div class='line'>’Tis but a dream, but should her hand fulfil</div>
+ <div class='line'>His will within her will!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>She comes up wild and pale,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She wrings her hands in pain,</div>
+ <div class='line'>She utters with a wail—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘Who hath my father slain!</div>
+ <div class='line'>My anguished heart sobbed all night in its sleep;</div>
+ <div class='line'>I felt it sob and weep.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>VIII</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘I saw you while I slept,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And to my dream you spoke;</div>
+ <div class='line'>All night your words I kept,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I heard them when I woke:</div>
+ <div class='line'>“Take down your father’s sword and quickly slide</div>
+ <div class='line'>The blade into his side.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>IX</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘“Disguise the seeming guilt,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And bend his fingers round,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And put them on the hilt,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And leave him to his wound.”</div>
+ <div class='line'>O the false voice, that it so true should seem</div>
+ <div class='line'>In that unthought-of dream!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>X</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘I hurried to the bed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I saw that he was slain,</div>
+ <div class='line'>I saw the blood was shed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I saw the deep,—deep stain.</div>
+ <div class='line'>His sword was in his side,—thrust,—to the hilt,—</div>
+ <div class='line'>His fingers took the guilt.’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE WEDDING RING</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16'>LADY</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Give me a ring, good jeweller,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>By no one worn before,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And you shall boast you gave it her</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who wears it evermore.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in12 c002'>JEWELLER</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Then it shall be a ruby ring,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With hoop of richest gold,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And it shall be my offering</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>For benefits of old.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>LADY</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘A ruby ring it must not be,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Which is a thing to shine;</div>
+ <div class='line'>An iron ring is best for me,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>No other can be mine.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in12 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>JEWELLER</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘But surely such a ring ’twere sad</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To see a lady wear</div>
+ <div class='line'>Among her guests in jewels clad,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And she so young and fair.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>LADY</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘An iron ring is all I crave</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Upon my wedding night,</div>
+ <div class='line'>For I must wear it in the grave,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where it is out of sight.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in12 c002'>JEWELLER</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Is it to be a ring to bind</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Your heart in wedlock’s bond,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Or but to link the day behind</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And days that are beyond?’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>LADY</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘It is to link me to his peace</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who is not far away;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And when her lonely term may cease,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The bride shall with him stay.’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in12 c002'><span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>JEWELLER</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘Who is this bridegroom you would wed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And yet for ever mourn,</div>
+ <div class='line'>As though you would espouse the dead,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who never can return?’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in16 c002'>LADY</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>‘It is the dead I would espouse,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With him lie side by side;</div>
+ <div class='line'>There is a chamber in his house</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>He furnished for his bride.’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR DEAD</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+ <div><span class='sc'>Luke</span> ix. 60</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where marshes venom-steeped the life-breeze taint</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And fitful meteors lap the watery wild,</div>
+ <div class='line'>A moon sinks in the cloud-mire, dazed and faint,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Its pearly flush defiled,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Halo’d in sallow vapours like a saint</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Through paths impure beguiled.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But worse the gloom within the castle walls</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Where moans the lord whom pestilence devours:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The serfs awe-stricken flee his festering halls,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The plague-star o’er him lowers,</div>
+ <div class='line'>On his glazed eyes the fatal glimmer falls</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While night weighs down his towers.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>A crescent moon whose advent stays the pest</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Embalms the dead with heavenly obsequies,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But there are none to bear him to his rest,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>His body shroudless lies;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Anointed not, by pious rites unblest,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Unto the grave he cries.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>A great half-moon now dominates the dome,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>With stern upbraidings yet not less benign:</div>
+ <div class='line'>But the blank gazers to his final home</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The dead dare not consign,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Lured on by sullen spectres of the gloam</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who their own dead enshrine.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Again the drowsy marshes pillow night</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And darkness severs sky and earth in two,</div>
+ <div class='line'>But with a rush of cloud dispersing might</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A full moon hurries through;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The corpse is shrouded as in living light,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The castle walls look new.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The heaven is one blue wave; it seems to break</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>While lucid spray with dreamlight floods the air:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The coffins in the quickened graveyards quake,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The bones know they are there,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And ghostly shades their buried depths forsake</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>To gather in the glare.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>As dusk descends, by its scared rays illumed,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A soul-procession dense and denser grows:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Hearse after hearse night-horsed and sable-plumed</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>A mirage heavenward throws:</div>
+ <div class='line'>The newly dead is by the dead entombed</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And nature has repose.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>
+ <h2 class='c004'>THE GOLDEN WEDDING</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The day but not the bride is come,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As in her blossom-time;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But golden lights sustain the home</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She cherished in her prime.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>May we not call upon the band?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>May we not ask the priest?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Our golden wedding is at hand,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And we shall hold a feast.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But where is he in snow-white stole</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who the old service read,</div>
+ <div class='line'>That made us one in heart and soul?</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Long, long has he been dead.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The bridesmaids clad in silken fold</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Who waited on the bride,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Where are they now? Their tale is told:</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Long, long ago they died.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>Where is the groomsman, chosen friend,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>The true, the well-beloved;</div>
+ <div class='line'>His term, alas! is at an end;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Too soon was he removed.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where is the bride, ah! such a bride</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>As every joy foretells?</div>
+ <div class='line'>I see her walking by my side,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I hear the wedding-bells.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Where is she now? That we should say</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>She did not live to know</div>
+ <div class='line'>How passed her silver wedding-day,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>So many years ago!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>But come, and for your mother’s sake,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Though vain it were to weep,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Let us the silent feast partake,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Her golden wedding keep.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+ <div><span class='small'>Printed by T. and A. <span class='sc'>Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty, at the Edinburgh University Press.</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c003'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c009'>
+ <div><span class='large'>List of Books</span></div>
+ <div class='c003'>in</div>
+ <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>Belles Lettres</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/i_belles_lettres.jpg' alt='An ornate, black-and-white illustrated publisher&#39;s mark featuring a decorative, wrought-iron style border enclosing stylized calligraphy that reads: &#39;Elkin Mathews &#38; John Lane: Publishers and Vendors of Choice &#38; Rare Editions in Belles Lettres.&#39;' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+ <div class='nf-center'>
+ <div>ALL BOOKS IN THIS CATALOGUE</div>
+ <div>ARE PUBLISHED AT NET PRICES</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><i>1894</i></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><i>Telegraphic Address</i>—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>‘<span class='sc'>Bodleian, London</span>’</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'>A word must be said for the manner in which the publishers
+have produced the volume (<i>i.e.</i> “The Earth Fiend”), a
+sumptuous folio, printed by <span class='sc'>Constable</span>, the etchings on Japanese
+paper by <span class='sc'>Mr. Goulding</span>. The volume should add not only to
+<span class='sc'>Mr. Strang’s</span> fame but to that of <span class='sc'>Messrs. Elkin Mathews and
+John Lane</span>, who are rapidly gaining distinction for their beautiful
+editions of belles-lettres.’—<cite>Daily Chronicle</cite>, Sept. 24, 1892.</p>
+
+<p class='c006'><i>Referring to</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. Le Gallienne’s</span> ‘English Poems’ <i>and</i>
+‘Silhouettes’ by <span class='sc'>Mr. Arthur Symons</span>:—‘We only refer to them
+now to note a fact which they illustrate, and which we have been
+observing of late, namely, the recovery to a certain extent of good
+taste in the matter of printing and binding books. These two
+books, which are turned out by <span class='sc'>Messrs. Elkin Mathews and
+John Lane</span>, are models of artistic publishing, and yet they are
+simplicity itself. The books with their excellent printing and their
+very simplicity make a harmony which is satisfying to the artistic
+sense.’—<cite>Sunday Sun</cite>, Oct. 2, 1892.</p>
+
+<p class='c006'>‘<span class='sc'>Mr. Le Gallienne</span> is a fortunate young gentleman. I don’t
+know by what legerdemain he and his publishers work, but here,
+in an age as stony to poetry as the ages of Chatterton and Richard
+Savage, we find the full edition of his book sold before publication.
+How is it done, <span class='sc'>Messrs. Elkin Mathews and John Lane</span>?
+for, without depreciating <span class='sc'>Mr. Le Gallienne’s</span> sweetness and
+charm, I doubt that the marvel would have been wrought under
+another publisher. These publishers, indeed, produce books so delightfully
+that it must give an added pleasure to the hoarding of first
+editions.’—<span class='sc'>Katharine Tynan</span> in <cite>The Irish Daily Independent</cite>.</p>
+
+<p class='c006'>‘To <span class='sc'>Messrs. Elkin Mathews and John Lane</span> almost more
+than to any other, we take it, are the thanks of the grateful singer
+especially due; for it is they who have managed, by means of
+limited editions and charming workmanship, to impress book-buyers
+with the belief that a volume may have an æsthetic and
+commercial value. They have made it possible to speculate in the
+latest discovered poet, as in a new company—with the difference
+that an operation in the former can be done with three half-crowns.’</p>
+
+<div class='c010'><cite>St. James’s Gazette.</cite></div>
+
+<div class='c011'><i>January 1894.</i></div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+ <div class='nf-center'>
+ <div><span class='xlarge'>List of Books</span></div>
+ <div class='c003'>IN</div>
+ <div class='c003'><span class='large'><cite>BELLES LETTRES</cite></span></div>
+ <div class='c003'><span class='small'>(<i>Including some Transfers</i>)</span></div>
+ <div class='c003'>PUBLISHED BY</div>
+ <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>Elkin Mathews and John Lane</span></div>
+ <div class='c003'><span class='blackletter'>The Bodley Head</span></div>
+ <div class='c003'>VIGO STREET, LONDON, W.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c006'><i>N.B.—The Authors and Publishers reserve the right of reprinting
+any book in this list if a second edition is called for, except in cases
+where a stipulation has been made to the contrary, and of printing
+a separate edition of any of the books for America irrespective of the
+numbers to which the English editions are limited. The numbers
+mentioned do not include the copies sent for review or to the public
+libraries.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c012'>ADAMS (FRANCIS).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Essays in Modernity.</span> Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>ALLEN (GRANT).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Lower Slopes</span>: A Volume of Verse. 600 copies.
+Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Immediately.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>ANTÆUS.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Backslider and other Poems.</span> 100 only.
+Small 4to. 7s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>BEECHING (H. C.), J. W. MACKAIL, &#38;
+J. B. B. NICHOLS.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Love in Idleness.</span> With Vignette by <span class='sc'>W. B. Scott</span>.
+Fcap. 8vo, half vellum. 12s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>Transferred by the Authors to the present Publishers.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>BENSON (ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Poems.</span> 550 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>BENSON (EUGENE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>From the Asolan Hills</span>: A Poem. 300 copies. Imp.
+16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>BINYON (LAURENCE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Poems.</span> 16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>BOURDILLON (F. W.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Lost God</span>: A Poem. With Illustrations by <span class='sc'>H. J. Ford</span>.
+500 copies. 8vo. 6s. net.</p>
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>BOURDILLON (F. W.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Ailes d’Alouette.</span> Poems printed at the private press
+of Rev. <span class='sc'>H. Daniel</span>, Oxford. 100 only. 16mo.
+£1, 10s. net.</p>
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Not published.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>BRIDGES (ROBERT).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Growth of Love.</span> Printed in Fell’s old English
+type at the private press of Rev. <span class='sc'>H. Daniel</span>, Oxford.
+100 only. Fcap. 4to. £2, 12s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Not published.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>COLERIDGE (HON. STEPHEN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Sanctity of Confession</span>: A Romance. Second
+Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. net.</p>
+<div class='c014'>[<i>A few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>CRANE (WALTER).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Renascence</span>: A Book of Verse. Frontispiece and 38
+designs by the Author.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Small paper edition out of print.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'>There remain a few large paper copies, fcap. 4to. £1, 1s. net.
+And a few fcap. 4to, Japanese vellum. £1, 15s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>CROSSING (WM.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Ancient Crosses of Dartmoor.</span> With 11 plates.
+8vo, cloth. 4s. 6d. net.</p>
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>DAVIDSON (JOHN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Plays</span>: An Unhistorical Pastoral; A Romantic Farce;
+Bruce, a Chronicle Play; Smith, a Tragic Farce;
+Scaramouch in Naxos, a Pantomime, with a Frontispiece,
+Title-page, and Cover Design by <span class='sc'>Aubrey
+Beardsley</span>. 500 copies. Small 4to. 7s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Immediately.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>DAVIDSON (JOHN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Fleet Street Eclogues.</span> Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo,
+buckram. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>DAVIDSON (JOHN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Random Itinerary</span>: Prose Sketches, with a Ballad.
+Frontispiece, Title-page, and Cover Design by <span class='sc'>Laurence
+Housman</span>. Fcap. 8vo. Uniform with ‘Fleet
+Street Eclogues.’ 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>DAVIDSON (JOHN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The North Wall.</span> Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>The few remaining copies transferred by the Author
+to the present Publishers.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>DE GRUCHY (AUGUSTA).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Under the Hawthorn, and other Verses.</span> Frontispiece
+by <span class='sc'>Walter Crane</span>. 300 copies. Crown 8vo.
+5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 30 copies on Japanese vellum. 15s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>DE TABLEY (LORD).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Poems, Dramatic and Lyrical.</span> By <span class='sc'>John Leicester
+Warren</span> (Lord De Tabley). Illustrations and Cover
+Design by <span class='sc'>C. S. Ricketts</span>. Second Edition.
+Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>DIAL (THE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>No. 1 of the Second Series. Illustrations by <span class='sc'>Ricketts</span>,
+<span class='sc'>Shannon</span>, <span class='sc'>Pissarro</span>. 200 only. 4to. £1, 1s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>The present series will be continued at irregular intervals.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>EGERTON (GEORGE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Keynotes</span>: Short Stories. With Title-page by <span class='sc'>Aubrey
+Beardsley</span>. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.
+net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>FIELD (MICHAEL).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Sight and Song.</span> (Poems on Pictures.) 400 copies.
+Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>FIELD (MICHAEL).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Stephania</span>: A Trialogue in Three Acts. 250 copies.
+Pott 4to. 6s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>GALE (NORMAN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Orchard Songs.</span> Fcap. 8vo. With Title-page and
+Cover Design by <span class='sc'>J. Illingworth Kay</span>. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also a Special Edition limited in number on hand-made paper
+bound in English vellum. £1, 1s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>GARNETT (RICHARD).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Volume of Poems.</span> 350 copies. Crown 8vo. With
+Title-page designed by <span class='sc'>J. Illingworth Kay</span>. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>GOSSE (EDMUND).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Letters of Thomas Lovell Beddoes.</span> Now
+first edited. Pott 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Immediately.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>GRAHAME (KENNETH).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Pagan Papers</span>: A Volume of Essays. Fcap. 8vo.
+5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>GREENE (G. A.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Italian Lyrists of To-day.</span> Translations in the
+original metres from about thirty-five living Italian
+poets, with bibliographical and biographical notes.
+Crown 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>HAKE (DR. T. GORDON).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Selection from his Poems.</span> Edited by Mrs.
+<span class='sc'>Meynell</span>. With a Portrait after <span class='sc'>D. G. Rossetti</span>.
+Crown 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Immediately.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>HALLAM (ARTHUR HENRY).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Poems</span>, together with his essay ‘On Some of the
+Characteristics of Modern Poetry and on the Lyrical
+Poems of <span class='sc'>Alfred Tennyson</span>.’ Edited, with an
+Introduction, by <span class='sc'>Richard Le Gallienne</span>. 550
+copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>HAMILTON (COL. IAN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Ballad of Hadji and other Poems.</span> Etched
+Frontispiece by <span class='sc'>Wm. Strang</span>. 50 copies. Fcap. 8vo.
+3s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>HAYES (ALFRED).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Vale of Arden and Other Poems.</span> With Title-page
+and Cover Design by <span class='sc'>Laurence Housman</span>.
+Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>HICKEY (EMILY H.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Verse Tales, Lyrics and Translations.</span> 300 copies.
+Imp. 16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>HORNE (HERBERT P.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Diversi Colores</span>: Poems. With ornaments by the
+Author. 250 copies. 16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>IMAGE (SELWYN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Carols and Poems.</span> With decorations by <span class='sc'>H. P. Horne</span>.
+250 copies. 16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>JAMES (W. P.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Romantic Professions</span>: A Volume of Essays, with Title-page
+by <span class='sc'>J. Illingworth Kay</span>. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Immediately.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>JOHNSON (EFFIE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>In the Fire and Other Fancies.</span> Frontispiece by
+<span class='sc'>Walter Crane</span>. 500 copies. Imp. 16mo. 3s. 6d.
+net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>JOHNSON (LIONEL).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Art of Thomas Hardy</span>: Six Essays. With
+Etched Portrait by <span class='sc'>Wm. Strang</span>, and Bibliography
+by <span class='sc'>John Lane</span>. Crown 8vo. 5s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 150 copies, large paper, with proofs of the portrait. £1, 1s.
+net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very shortly.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>JOHNSON (LIONEL).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Volume of Poems.</span> Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>KEATS (JOHN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Three Essays</span>, now issued in book form for the first time.
+Edited by <span class='sc'>H. Buxton Forman</span>. With Life-mask
+by <span class='sc'>Haydon</span>. Fcap. 4to. 10s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>LEATHER (R. K.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Verses.</span> 250 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>LEATHER (R. K.), &#38; RICHARD LE GALLIENNE.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Student and the Body-Snatcher and Other
+Trifles.</span></p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Small paper edition out of print.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'>There remain a very few of the 50 large paper copies. 7s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Prose Fancies.</span> With a Portrait of the Author. Cr. 8vo.
+5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also a limited large paper edition. 12s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Book Bills of Narcissus.</span> An Account rendered
+by <span class='sc'>Richard le Gallienne</span>. Second Edition.
+Crown 8vo, buckram. 3s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>English Poems.</span> Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>George Meredith</span>: Some Characteristics. With a Bibliography
+(much enlarged) by <span class='sc'>John Lane</span>, portrait, etc.
+Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Religion of a Literary Man.</span> Cr. 8vo. 3rd
+thousand. 3s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also a special rubricated edition on hand-made paper. 8vo.
+10s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>LETTERS TO LIVING ARTISTS.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>500 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>MARSTON (PHILIP BOURKE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Last Harvest: Lyrics and Sonnets from the
+Book of Love.</span> Edited by <span class='sc'>Louise Chandler
+Moulton</span>. 500 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 50 copies on large paper, hand-made. 10s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>MARTIN (W. WILSEY).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Quatrains, Life’s Mystery and other Poems.</span> 16mo.
+2s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>MARZIALS (THEO.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Gallery of Pigeons and Other Poems.</span> Fcap.
+8vo. 4s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>MEYNELL (MRS.), (ALICE C. THOMPSON).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Poems.</span> Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. A
+few of the 50 large paper copies (First Edition) remain,
+12s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>MEYNELL (MRS.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Rhythm of Life, and other Essays.</span> Second
+Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. A few of the 50
+large paper copies (First Edition) remain. 12s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>MURRAY (ALMA).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Portrait as Beatrice Cenci.</span> With critical notice
+containing four letters from <span class='sc'>Robert Browning</span>.
+8vo, wrapper. 2s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>NETTLESHIP (J. T.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Robert Browning</span>: Essays and Thoughts. Third
+Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s. 6d. net. Half a dozen of
+the Whatman large paper copies (First Edition)
+remain. £1, 1s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>NOBLE (JAS. ASHCROFT).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Sonnet in England and Other Essays.</span> Title-page
+and Cover Design by <span class='sc'>Austin Young</span>. 600
+copies. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 50 copies large paper. 12s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>NOEL (HON. RODEN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Poor People’s Christmas.</span> 250 copies. 16mo. 1s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>OXFORD CHARACTERS.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>A series of lithographed portraits by <span class='sc'>Will Rothenstein</span>,
+with text by <span class='sc'>F. York Powell</span> and others. To be
+issued monthly in term. Each number will contain
+two portraits. Part I. contains portraits of <span class='sc'>Sir Henry
+Acland</span> and Mr. <span class='sc'>W. A. L. Fletcher</span>, and Part II.
+of Mr. <span class='sc'>Robinson K. Ellis</span>, and <span class='sc'>Lord St. Cyres</span>.
+200 copies only, folio, wrapper, 5s. net per part; 25
+special copies containing proof impressions of the portraits
+signed by the artist, 10s. 6d. net per part.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>PINKERTON (PERCY).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Galeazzo</span>: A Venetian Episode and other Poems.
+Etched Frontispiece. 16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>RADFORD (DOLLIE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Songs.</span> A New Volume of Verse.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>RADFORD (ERNEST).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Chambers Twain.</span> Frontispiece by <span class='sc'>Walter Crane</span>.
+250 copies. Imp. 16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 50 copies large paper. 10s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>RHYMERS’ CLUB, THE BOOK OF THE.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>A second series is in preparation.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>SCHAFF (DR. P.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Literature and Poetry</span>: Papers on Dante, etc.
+Portrait and Plates, 100 copies only. 8vo. 10s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>SCOTT (WM. BELL).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Poet’s Harvest Home: with an Aftermath.</span>
+300 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c1'>
+<div class='nf-center c016'>
+ <div>⁂ <i>Will not be reprinted.</i></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>SHAW (A. D. L.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Happy Wanderer.</span> Poems. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>STODDARD (R. H.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Lion’s Cub; with other Verse.</span> Portrait.
+100 copies only, bound in an illuminated Persian
+design. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>SYMONDS (JOHN ADDINGTON).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>In the Key of Blue, and other Prose Essays.</span>
+Cover designed by <span class='sc'>C. S. Ricketts</span>. Second Edition.
+Thick Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>THOMPSON (FRANCIS).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Volume of Poems.</span> With Frontispiece, Title-page
+and Cover Design by <span class='sc'>Laurence Housman</span>. Second
+Edition. Pott 4to. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>TODHUNTER (JOHN).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>A Sicilian Idyll.</span> Frontispiece by <span class='sc'>Walter Crane</span>.
+250 copies. Imp. 16mo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 50 copies large paper, fcap. 4to. 10s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very few remain.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>TOMSON (GRAHAM R.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>After Sunset.</span> A Volume of Poems. With Title-page and
+Cover Design by <span class='sc'>R. Anning Bell</span>. Fcap. 8vo. 5s.
+net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also a limited large paper edition. 12s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>TREE (H. BEERBOHM).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Imaginative Faculty</span>: A Lecture delivered at the
+Royal Institution. With portrait of Mr. <span class='sc'>Tree</span> from
+an unpublished drawing by the Marchioness of Granby.
+Fcap. 8vo, boards. 2s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>TYNAN HINKSON (KATHARINE).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Cuckoo Songs.</span> With Title-page and Cover Design by
+<span class='sc'>Laurence Housman</span>. 500 copies. Fcap. 8vo. 5s.
+net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>VAN DYKE (HENRY).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Poetry of Tennyson.</span> Third Edition, enlarged.
+Crown 8vo. 5s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>The late Laureate himself gave valuable aid in correcting
+various details.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>WATSON (WILLIAM).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Eloping Angels</span>: A Caprice. Second Edition.
+Square 16mo, buckram. 3s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>WATSON (WILLIAM).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Excursions in Criticism</span>: being some Prose Recreations
+of a Rhymer. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>WATSON (WILLIAM).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Prince’s Quest, and other Poems.</span> With a
+Bibliographical Note added. Second Edition. Fcap.
+8vo. 4s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>WEDMORE (FREDERICK).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Pastorals of France—Renunciations.</span> A volume of
+Stories. Title-page by <span class='sc'>John Fulleylove</span>, R.I.
+Crown 8vo. 5s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>A few of the large paper copies of Renunciations (First Edition)
+remain. 10s. 6d. net.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>WICKSTEED (P. H.).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Dante.</span> Six Sermons. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 2s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>WILDE (OSCAR).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Sphinx.</span> A poem decorated throughout in line and
+colour, and bound in a design by <span class='sc'>Charles Ricketts</span>.
+250 copies. £2, 2s. net. 25 copies large paper.
+£5, 5s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Very shortly.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>WILDE (OSCAR).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>The incomparable and ingenious history of Mr. W. H.,
+being the true secret of Shakespear’s sonnets now for
+the first time here fully set forth, with initial letters
+and cover design by <span class='sc'>Charles Ricketts</span>. 500 copies,
+10s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 50 copies large paper. 21s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>WILDE (OSCAR).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Dramatic Works</span>, now printed for the first time with a
+specially designed Title-page and binding to each
+volume, by <span class='sc'>Charles Shannon</span>. 500 copies. Small
+4to. 7s. 6d. net per vol.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 50 copies large paper. 15s. net per vol.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Vol. <span class='fss'>I</span>. <span class='sc'>Lady Windermere’s Fan</span>: A Comedy in
+Four Acts.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Ready.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'>Vol. <span class='fss'>II</span>. <span class='sc'>A Woman of No Importance</span>: A Comedy
+in Four Acts.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Shortly.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c013'>Vol. <span class='fss'>III</span>. <span class='sc'>The Duchess of Padua</span>: A Blank Verse
+Tragedy in Five Acts.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>In preparation.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>WILDE (OSCAR).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Salomé</span>: A Tragedy in one Act, done into English.
+With 11 Illustrations, title-page, and Cover Design
+by <span class='sc'>Aubrey Beardsley</span>. 500 copies. Small 4to.
+15s. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>Also 100 copies, large paper. 30s. net.</p>
+
+<div class='c014'>[<i>Shortly.</i></div>
+
+<p class='c015'>WYNNE (FRANCES).</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>Whisper.</span> A Volume of Verse. With a Memoir by
+<span class='sc'>Katharine Tynan</span> and a Portrait added. Fcap. 8vo.
+2s. 6d. net.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>Transferred by the Author to the present Publishers.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>The Hobby Horse</p>
+
+<p class='c015'>A new series of this illustrated magazine will be published
+quarterly by subscription, under the Editorship of Herbert
+P. Horne. Subscription £1 per annum, post free, for the
+four numbers. Quarto, printed on hand-made paper, and
+issued in a limited edition to subscribers only. The
+Magazine will contain articles upon Literature, Music,
+Painting, Sculpture, Architecture, and the Decorative Arts;
+Poems; Essays; Fiction; original Designs; with reproductions
+of pictures and drawings by the old masters and
+contemporary artists. There will be a new title-page
+and ornaments designed by the Editor.
+Among the contributors to the
+Hobby Horse are:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c017'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>The late <span class='sc'>Matthew Arnold</span>.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Laurence Binyon.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Wilfrid Blunt.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Ford Madox Brown.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'>The late <span class='sc'>Arthur Burgess</span>.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>E. Burne-Jones</span>, A.R.A.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Austin Dobson.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Richard Garnett</span>, LL.D.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>A. J. Hipkins</span>, F.S.A.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Selwyn Image.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Lionel Johnson.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Richard Le Gallienne.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Sir F. Leighton</span>, Bart., P.R.A.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>T. Hope McLachlan.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>May Morris.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>C. Hubert H. Parry</span>, Mus. Doc.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>A. W. Pollard.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>F. York Powell.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Christina G. Rossetti.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>W. M. Rossetti.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>John Ruskin</span>, D.C.L., LL.D.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Frederick Sandys.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'>The late <span class='sc'>W. Bell Scott</span>.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Frederick J. Shields.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>J. H. Shorthouse.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'>The late <span class='sc'>James Smetham</span>.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Simeon Solomon.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>A. Somervell.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'>The late <span class='sc'>J. Addington Symonds</span>.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Katharine Tynan.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>G. F. Watts</span>, R.A.</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Frederick Wedmore.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Oscar Wilde.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'><i>Prospectuses on Application.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c015'>THE BODLEY HEAD, VIGO STREET, LONDON, W.</p>
+
+<p class='c018'>‘Nearly every book put out by Messrs. Elkin Mathews &#38;
+John Lane, at the Sign of the Bodley Head, is a satisfaction to
+the special senses of the modern bookman for bindings, shapes,
+types, and papers. They have surpassed themselves, and
+registered a real achievement in English bookmaking by the
+volume of “Poems, Dramatic and Lyrical,” of Lord De Tabley.’—<cite>Newcastle Daily Chronicle.</cite></p>
+
+<p class='c018'>‘A ray of hopefulness is stealing again into English poetry
+after the twilight greys of Clough and Arnold and Tennyson.
+Even unbelief wears braver colours. Despite the jeremiads,
+which are the dirges of the elder gods, England is still a nest
+of singing-birds (<i>teste</i> the Catalogue of Elkin Mathews and John
+Lane).’—Mr. <span class='sc'>Zangwill</span> in <cite>Pall Mall Magazine</cite>.</p>
+
+<p class='c018'>‘All Messrs. Mathews &#38; Lane’s Books are so beautifully
+printed and so tastefully issued, that it rejoices the heart of a
+book-lover to handle them; but they have shown their sound
+judgment not less markedly in the literary quality of their
+publications. The choiceness of form is not inappropriate to
+the matter, which is always of something more than ephemeral
+worth. This was a distinction on which the better publishers
+at one time prided themselves; they never lent their names to
+trash; but some names associated with worthy traditions have
+proved more than once a delusion and a snare. The record of
+Messrs. Elkin Mathews &#38; John Lane is perfect in this respect,
+and their imprint is a guarantee of the worth of what they
+publish.’—<cite>Birmingham Daily Post</cite>, Nov. 6, 1893.</p>
+
+<p class='c018'>‘One can nearly always be certain when one sees on the title-page
+of any given book the name of Messrs Elkin Mathews &#38;
+John Lane as being the publishers thereof that there will be
+something worth reading to be found between the boards.’—<cite>World.</cite></p>
+
+<div class='c002 figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_colophone.jpg' alt='Publisher&#39;s colophon showing a sailing ship within an oval emblem and the text &#39;Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty&#39;' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c019'>
+ <div><span class='small'>Edinburgh: T. and A. <span class='sc'>Constable</span></span></div>
+ <div><span class='small'>Printers to Her Majesty</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c003'>
+</div>
+<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker c020'>
+
+<div class='chapter ph2'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c009'>
+ <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+ <ul class='ul_1 c002'>
+ <li>Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ </li>
+ </ul>
+
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78947 ***</div>
+</body>
+<!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-05-25 18:55:19 GMT -->
+</html>
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+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. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+[Project Gutenberg](https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook [#78947](https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78947)