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diff --git a/79394-h/79394-h.htm b/79394-h/79394-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..19610f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/79394-h/79394-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1837 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> +<link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> +<title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of First poems, by Ruth Pitter. +</title> +<style> + +a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + + link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + +a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} + +a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} + +body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} + +.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + +.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; +text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + + h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; +font-weight:normal;} + + h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; + font-size:125%;font-weight:normal;} + + hr {width:90%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} + + hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; +padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} + + img {border:none;} + + p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} + +.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; +left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; +background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal; +font-style:normal;font-weight:normal; +text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} + +small {font-size:75%;} + +.tdd {padding-left:10%;text-indent:-3%;} + +table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%; +padding:2%;margin-left:auto; + margin-right:auto; +border:2px solid black;} + +div.poetry {text-align:center;} +div.poem {font-size:100%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; +display: inline-block; text-align: left;} +.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} +.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.idate {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +</style> + </head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79394 ***</div> + +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="355" height="550" alt=""> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1">{1}</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#FAIRY-GOLD">FAIRY-GOLD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_GOD">THE GOD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_SWAN">THE SWAN</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_OAK">THE OAK</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#SONG1">SONG</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#EXILE">EXILE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#HARMONY">HARMONY</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_BOOK">THE BOOK</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_ELFIN_HEART">THE ELFIN HEART</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_DEAD_FAY">THE DEAD FAY</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_CARELESS_SPIRIT">THE CARELESS SPIRIT</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#FAREWELL">FAREWELL</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#SEPTEMBER_NIGHT">SEPTEMBER NIGHT</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#JUNE">JUNE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#IN_THE_FIELD">IN THE FIELD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_KNIGHTLY_DAMOISEAU">THE KNIGHTLY DAMOISEAU</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#RONDEAU_TO_THE_LUTE">RONDEAU, TO THE LUTE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#ANDANTE">ANDANTE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#MAN">MAN</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_THORN">THE THORN</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_REALM">THE REALM</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_TOILER_IN_THE_DARK">THE TOILER IN THE DARK</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_KING">THE KING</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#ENCHANTED">ENCHANTED</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_SINGER">THE SINGER</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#ALONE">ALONE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#A_CITY_CHURCHYARD">A CITY CHURCHYARD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_WATERS_OF_PARADISE">THE WATERS OF PARADISE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_QUIET_THOUGHT">THE QUIET THOUGHT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#TO_RIGHTEOUSNESS_OUTCAST_AND_DISGUISED">TO RIGHTEOUSNESS OUTCAST AND DISGUISED.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#SPRITE_ALONE">SPRITE ALONE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#PRAYER_FOR_A_FAIR_PEOPLE">PRAYER FOR A FAIR PEOPLE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_PROMISED_REST">THE PROMISED REST.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_EARTH_AND_THE_HEAVEN_IN_THE_EVENING">THE EARTH AND THE HEAVEN IN THE EVENING</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#MELILOTE">MELILOTE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THY_SONG_IS_LIKE_A_LEMON_TREE">THY SONG IS LIKE A LEMON TREE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#SONG2">SONG</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_POOR_POET">THE POOR POET</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_FRIENDS">THE FRIENDS</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#WELL_BELOVED">WELL BELOVED</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_LUTE">THE LUTE</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_COMPANION_OF_YOUTH">THE COMPANION OF YOUTH</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_MAIDS_BURIAL">THE MAID’S BURIAL</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_MISSAL">THE MISSAL</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#SEEK_THE_WIDE_SOLACE">SEEK THE WIDE SOLACE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#ELFESHILL">ELFESHILL</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_SORROW_OF_TRUTH">THE SORROW OF TRUTH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#PAST">PAST</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THINK_THOU_UPON_THE_BITTER_STRAND">THINK THOU UPON THE BITTER STRAND</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdd"><a href="#THE_CONSUMMATION">THE CONSUMMATION</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<h1>FIRST POEMS</h1> + +<p class="c">BY<br><br> +RUTH PITTER<br><br> +LONDON<br> +CECIL PALMER<br> +OAKLEY HOUSE, BLOOMSBURY STREET, W.C. 1<br><br> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2">{2}</a></span> +F I R S T<br> +EDITION<br> +1 9 2 0<br> +C O P Y<br> +R I G H T<br><br><br><small> +PRINTED BY BEN JOHNSON AND CO. LTD., YORK AND LONDON</small></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3">{3}</a></span></p> + +<hr> + +<h2><a id="FAIRY-GOLD">FAIRY-GOLD</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have a brother cleped Fairy-Gold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Who dwelleth not in housen nor with men,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But in the dim wood and the forest hold;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Full fair is he in form: full young, full old;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the wild things in the grot and glen,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of many a brown shy wood-bird am I told,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of every leaf and blade on fell and fen,<br></span> +<span class="i0">I have a brother cleped Fairy-Gold.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all that e’er was made in nature’s mould,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And everything of beauty she doth own<br></span> +<span class="i0">Is but a part of gentle Fairy-Gold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Whose murmured tale to those who hear is told,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Whose varied beauty to the wind is thrown,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Whose eyes smile forth from copses dark and old—<br></span> +<span class="i0">Or are they flowers in wind-swept riot grown?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Both flowers, and eyes of laughing Fairy-Gold.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The kind earth to her bosom doth him fold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Her light swift hands, the breezes, stroke his hair,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Which glow of yellow wheat doth catch and hold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And down in rich and heavy locks is rolled:<br></span> +<span class="i0">He is for mortal eyes but all too fair,<br></span> +<span class="i0">He hath not age: I in his haunts am told<br></span> +<span class="i0">By myriad voices whispering in the air,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4">{4}</a></span> +<span class="i0">I have a brother cleped Fairy-Gold.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1912.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_GOD">THE GOD</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What eyes look thus upon the earth,<br></span> +<span class="i0">What eyes, which lack the smart of tears?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Even the eyes of the god’s soul.<br></span> +<span class="i0">O wisdom, sweet of many lives,<br></span> +<span class="i0">O love of many thousand years!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whose mind hath not the biting woe,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Whose mind is all unstirred of fears?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Even the mind of the tried god.<br></span> +<span class="i0">O knowledge of thy many lives,<br></span> +<span class="i0">O calm of many thousand years!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who knoweth the lore of all the stars,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Who hath the eyes of all the seers?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Even the god who passeth all,<br></span> +<span class="i0">O thought and light of many lives,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5">{5}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Perfect from many thousand years!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1913.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_SWAN">THE SWAN</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With his red beak and marble plume,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Uttering his wild, his pulsant cry,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The Swan into the wild did fly.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Into the fiery dawn rode he,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And many burning cherubim<br></span> +<span class="i0">That know the face of the Most High,<br></span> +<span class="i0">In godlike flight did go with him.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1913.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_OAK">THE OAK</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O blessed and thrice blessed evermore<br></span> +<span class="i0">To grow old in the chaste immutable silence,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking thine own thoughts! At the golden door<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of thine own glade the quiet sunbeams pour,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And thou look’st out across the hazy plain<br></span> +<span class="i0">From the cool greenness of thine ancient throne:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where is the biting winter? neither pain<br></span> +<span class="i0">Nor vain regrets in thy deep heart remain,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dost thou count the weary drooping years<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6">{6}</a></span> +<span class="i0">In slow and miserly cycle one by one.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1913.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="SONG1">SONG</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grieve no more for the silent dead;<br></span> +<span class="i0">They have fled from the earth—<br></span> +<span class="i8">Yea, have fled!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, never grieve more.<br></span> +<span class="i0">All our crystal and golden lore,<br></span> +<span class="i0">What does it boot to grief or mirth?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These but leaves of the autumn are,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Gone far from our ken—<br></span> +<span class="i8">Yea, gone far!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Past, and too soon forgot:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Dry thy tears and grieve thou not,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7">{7}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Think no more upon troubled men.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1912.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="EXILE">EXILE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The pine wood ceased on the crest of the down;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Flames of heather and furze had died<br></span> +<span class="i0">With the vanished light of the burning day,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And all was still; but far away<br></span> +<span class="i0">Glimmered the roofs of a fairy town.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The exile climbed from the sombre trees<br></span> +<span class="i0">To the open hill; and the rags he bore,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fluttering out along the sky,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Black as all else that passed thereby,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Waved like slashed trappings in the breeze.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He paused: that happy and halcyon land<br></span> +<span class="i0">Wavered with colour like the sea,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Trembled with hues we cannot know,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Gleamed with many a spire of snow<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fashioned from air by an airy hand.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He watched it there with his half-shut eyes<br></span> +<span class="i0">Till the rapt glow in heaven did fade,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And every roof all gemmed and bright<br></span> +<span class="i0">Melted into the sapphire night,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the wan mists did all arise.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind awoke, and with mighty tone<br></span> +<span class="i0">Ran on the hill and into the dark,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Calling well to his playmates there,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Stirring the draping rags and hair,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8">{8}</a></span> +<span class="i0">And saying with deep voice, Begone.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1913.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="HARMONY">HARMONY</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I heard a child upon an instrument<br></span> +<span class="i0">Make broken melody,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And sighed for all the glory that might be<br></span> +<span class="i0">Could that clear soul with cunning art be blent:<br></span> +<span class="i0">But never man did see<br></span> +<span class="i0">So high perfection in simplicity,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And my hope went.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1912.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_BOOK">THE BOOK</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When one looketh in a well<br></span> +<span class="i0">He in the shining surface sees<br></span> +<span class="i0">The sky’s face and the clustered trees<br></span> +<span class="i0">Reflected in the dark roundel,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And clouds that in the heaven dwell,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But tenderer, and passing clear;<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9">{9}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Such are the words that wanton here.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_ELFIN_HEART">THE ELFIN HEART</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They that have the elfin heart<br></span> +<span class="i4">Cannot weep;<br></span> +<span class="i0">In the desert they would sleep<br></span> +<span class="i0">While the lion watched apart;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And when tears of mortals start<br></span> +<span class="i4">Silence keep.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They have eyen dark and deep,<br></span> +<span class="i4">And their look<br></span> +<span class="i0">As a pool in forest brook,<br></span> +<span class="i0">As a tarn on mountain steep,<br></span> +<span class="i0">As a spell, doth calmness keep,<br></span> +<span class="i4">Sealéd book!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who are they? O brethren, tell!<br></span> +<span class="i4">Do ye know<br></span> +<span class="i0">Why the winter’s folding snow<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the wild wolves’ hungry yell<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fright them not, and where they go<br></span> +<span class="i4">Sans farewell?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All their ways with flowers strow,<br></span> +<span class="i4">For they see<br></span> +<span class="i0">What to us is mystery,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Far forgotten, long ago;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Neither have they friend nor foe;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Elfin heart I may not know<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10">{10}</a></span> +<span class="i4">Pity me!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_DEAD_FAY">THE DEAD FAY</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At matins and evensong<br></span> +<span class="i0">Pray ye for a faery soul!<br></span> +<span class="i0">If the day be long<br></span> +<span class="i0">With grief and dole<br></span> +<span class="i0">May your hearts be strong;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Pray ye deep and well,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, pray deep,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For low in the dell<br></span> +<span class="i0">Doth a dead fay sleep.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Light and shimmering dance;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Light danced he on moor and lea!<br></span> +<span class="i0">O’er the river’s glance,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the green sea:<br></span> +<span class="i0">And now lies still<br></span> +<span class="i0">By the bitter cress and brier,<br></span> +<span class="i0">By the slow and shallow rill,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That from out the thymy hill<br></span> +<span class="i0">Flows, from elfin forge and fire;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Pray aloud, and say,<br></span> +<span class="i0">“Farewell, O thou dancing fay!”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Canst thou, priest, for wandering sprite<br></span> +<span class="i0">Say a mass?<br></span> +<span class="i0">He dwelt not in house at night,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But, in light<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11">{11}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Eager mazes swiftly going,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Danced on mountain and morass;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Give him, father, of thy prayer,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For he was most brightly fair:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, priest, if thou will not pray,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou’lt not compass his undoing.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At matins and evensong,<br></span> +<span class="i0">With mass and requiem<br></span> +<span class="i0">Say, “For soul of errant fay,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For a leaf plucked from the stem,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For a spirit bright as day<br></span> +<span class="i0">Do we pray”:<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the brier and bitter cress<br></span> +<span class="i0">By his side<br></span> +<span class="i0">Both put on a sober dress;<br></span> +<span class="i0">In the tide<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of the slow and shallow rill<br></span> +<span class="i0">Every herb his tears doth spill:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Every herb that decks the dell<br></span> +<span class="i0">Scattereth all his gems, and saith,<br></span> +<span class="i0">“Weep we for a faery’s death!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fay, farewell!”<br></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12">{12}</a></span></div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_CARELESS_SPIRIT">THE CARELESS SPIRIT</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The little bright fairy<br></span> +<span class="i0">Never singeth “Ave Mary,”<br></span> +<span class="i0">For in the wood both blithe and dim<br></span> +<span class="i0">What needs he of chant or hymn?<br></span> +<span class="i0">But every flower shall be his bed,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And he shall sing<br></span> +<span class="i0">A song of every living thing,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And on the moss shall fleetly tread;<br></span> +<span class="i0">But since thou be not fairy,<br></span> +<span class="i0">On thy knees sing “Ave Mary.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The steadfast violet<br></span> +<span class="i0">Shall upon his brow be set,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Even though he faithless be<br></span> +<span class="i0">Ever to flit from tree to tree;<br></span> +<span class="i0">But he shall rest upon the one<br></span> +<span class="i0">That blossoms white,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The hawthorn, tree of dear delight,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And there shall sing unto the sun:<br></span> +<span class="i0">But shivering misers, thin and wary,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13">{13}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Needs must sing an “Ave Mary.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="FAREWELL">FAREWELL</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My portion has been joy, but woe<br></span> +<span class="i0">Will come full soon.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Serene as any winter moon<br></span> +<span class="i0">Have been my years, and coursing slow.<br></span> +<span class="i0">But all my vestment gold and blue<br></span> +<span class="i0">I must put off, and take to me<br></span> +<span class="i0">Your sad dull raiment void of hue,<br></span> +<span class="i0">O paradise, from thee I go,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And world so grievous, hail to thee!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O fools that never look with pain<br></span> +<span class="i0">On what has been!<br></span> +<span class="i0">My playmates all, with joyous mien,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Haste to their realm of mist and rain;<br></span> +<span class="i0">While I do grieve to pipe no more<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of all that glad and gay may be<br></span> +<span class="i0">And all that world of happy lore;<br></span> +<span class="i0">From sunny woods I am not fain<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14">{14}</a></span> +<span class="i0">To voyage on the winter sea.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="SEPTEMBER_NIGHT">SEPTEMBER NIGHT</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If that you ride by road or lane<br></span> +<span class="i0">In the September dark,<br></span> +<span class="i0">When there is neither mist nor rain,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And nothing can you mark<br></span> +<span class="i0">But a tall darkness for a tree,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And for the road a gleam of white,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And scent of leaves breathed heavily,<br></span> +<span class="i0">It is a fairy night.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brief is the kingdom—nine hours long—<br></span> +<span class="i0">That the good people hold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But it is full of whispered song,<br></span> +<span class="i0">In the crisp breezes cold.<br></span> +<span class="i0">And every dell, a darkling round<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of shadow, when the moon is none,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Holdeth a little chattering sound,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15">{15}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Which cometh, and is gone.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="JUNE">JUNE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now from remotest hiding-place<br></span> +<span class="i0">Comes every fay, comes every flower’s soul.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lo by the brooks, how disks of moonlit lace<br></span> +<span class="i0">Veil all the waters’ hidden, sleeping face:<br></span> +<span class="i0">And from the summer’s long-forgotten store<br></span> +<span class="i0">Is given lavish dole:<br></span> +<span class="i0">June now doth scatter gold behind her and before.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The daisy, like a cherubim’s countenance<br></span> +<span class="i0">Shining, and girt with rayed and shining wings,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And melilot, slender and yellow-haired,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And light-hung grasses in their airy dance,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And flowering reed that by the river sings,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And buttercups, in web of light ensnared,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the chaste flower-de-luce so clear in hue,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Stand all like thoughtful sprites upon the mead,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Wondering at heaven, so smiling in their view;<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16">{16}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Nor to the autumn give they any heed.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="IN_THE_FIELD">IN THE FIELD</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the dandelion tall<br></span> +<span class="i0">Hath a yellow and shining head,<br></span> +<span class="i0">It is because he hath lately seen<br></span> +<span class="i0">One who came, passed and fled<br></span> +<span class="i0">Swiftly under the side of the wall<br></span> +<span class="i0">In a gold crown and a robe of green.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And if the heather and green gorse dark<br></span> +<span class="i0">Can shine at will in colours fair,<br></span> +<span class="i0">It is because far Paradise floor<br></span> +<span class="i0">Hanging aloft in the evening air,<br></span> +<span class="i0">They have seen, and hasten to mark<br></span> +<span class="i0">Themselves its pavement and wall and door.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If there are small flowers blue and red,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Five-fold about their inner whorl,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And dight so well in leaf and blade,<br></span> +<span class="i0">It is that they have seen unfurl<br></span> +<span class="i0">High in the dark arch overhead,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Many a five-fold Star displayed.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And if the tree on the eastern hill<br></span> +<span class="i0">Looketh him forth so steadfastly<br></span> +<span class="i0">And silently doth ponder all,<br></span> +<span class="i0">It is because the spirits free<br></span> +<span class="i0">That the whole earth do make and fill,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17">{17}</a></span> +<span class="i0">In all his branches cry and call.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_KNIGHTLY_DAMOISEAU">THE KNIGHTLY DAMOISEAU</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a knightly damoiseau,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And Godfrey de la Tour he hight,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Who forth to range the wood did go,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Most brightly clad and bravely dight;<br></span> +<span class="i0">His surcoat silken, broad and white,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Embroidered was like hawthorn tree,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That blossometh in the yellow light<br></span> +<span class="i0">Pleasing the errant fly and bee.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And forth along the waters’ marge,<br></span> +<span class="i0">With rushes set and fleurs-de-lys,<br></span> +<span class="i0">He rode with spear and leathern targe;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And well and manfully rode he<br></span> +<span class="i0">By flowering bush and budding tree,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Till the blue heaven ’gan to gloam,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18">{18}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Then turned him back and hied him home.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1914.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="RONDEAU_TO_THE_LUTE">RONDEAU, TO THE LUTE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing sweet, my Lute, beside the way,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For thou and I must earn our bread.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wilt be still when I am dead;<br></span> +<span class="i0">So, that thy singing with thee stay,<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sounding from morn to even gray,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Nor leave thee mourning music fled,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Sing sweet, my Lute, beside the way,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For thou and I must earn our bread.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perchance some pensive slender fay,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Hearing us from his hidden bed,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Shall compass us with power dread,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That singing we shall fade away.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing sweet, my Lute, beside the way,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19">{19}</a></span> +<span class="i0">For thou and I must earn our bread.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="ANDANTE">ANDANTE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now doth the heaviness of summer bloom<br></span> +<span class="i0">Die on the air, and from the neighbour wood<br></span> +<span class="i0">The brown earth good<br></span> +<span class="i0">Breathes sweeter incense, born of many leaves;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And every insect grieves<br></span> +<span class="i0">At coming frost, chill in the holly’s gloom;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Flutters in paler light, then wraps her round<br></span> +<span class="i0">In her torn summer robe, and dies forlorn<br></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the dew-sprent ground.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The blue mist in the valley rises slow;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Rises till she attain the topmost tree<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of all that be<br></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the slopes of mead and stubble-field;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Then when the sun has wheeled<br></span> +<span class="i0">His round, now short and drooping very low,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lies still and fills the vale from side to side,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And scents it with all sweets the heavens know<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20">{20}</a></span> +<span class="i0">In any countryside.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="MAN">MAN</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy feet are set among the moss<br></span> +<span class="i2">That dwelleth on the clay,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Which is a cold uncomely dross;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thine heart will ever stay<br></span> +<span class="i0">Among the flowers, two cubits high.<br></span> +<span class="i2">And thy majestic brow<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fronteth the awful arch of sky,<br></span> +<span class="i2">That is both high and low.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But thy most wonderful regard<br></span> +<span class="i2">Searcheth the universe;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Gold is, nor silver, cold and hard,<br></span> +<span class="i2">In this thy treasure-purse;<br></span> +<span class="i0">But a most puissant conquering love,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And royal air, whose state,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Mounting the whole of earth above,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21">{21}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Looks in at heaven’s gate.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_THORN">THE THORN</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down the dim wood, and in the dreaming ways,<br></span> +<span class="i0">High on the mountain mead and heathy hill,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Dwelleth the holy thorn beloved of fays,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fit shelter for their frail eternal days.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all his aspect is so wondrous still<br></span> +<span class="i0">That he might be a threaded tapestry<br></span> +<span class="i0">Wove part by ladies,’ part by fairies’ skill<br></span> +<span class="i0">To music of a slow and marish rill.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In his small blossoms greatest beauties be;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Five moonlight leaves, and tinct anon with red,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Likest in hue to syrens of the sea,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Whose limbs are rose, and polished ivory.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perfumed is he, as fits a fairy’s bed,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And honeyed for a fairy’s sustenance.<br></span> +<span class="i0">All night he watches fays: when night is dead<br></span> +<span class="i0">Holy he keeps the ground whence they have fled.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tend the tall thorn, and so avoid mischance,<br></span> +<span class="i0">High hedges and close bowers make ye of him,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That spirits may thy ghostly good enhance,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And fairy fend from thee the charging lance.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within thy chapel walls, with incense dim,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Suffer his leaf and flowery stem to blow,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the altar, and the carved font’s rim,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22">{22}</a></span> +<span class="i0">So that wild fays may hear thy living hymn.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when across the greenwood thou dost go<br></span> +<span class="i0">And seest his ruby fruit, bethink thee well,<br></span> +<span class="i0">“Even a spirit hath his proper woe,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Which I by these his heartës drops do know.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What is that woe is proof to woven spell?<br></span> +<span class="i0">What grief is never cured of singing lays?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Not to the mortal ear may spirits tell<br></span> +<span class="i0">That grief, which ringeth them eternal knell,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And makes of their wild eyes perpetual pain,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Which dieth not, as ours, and lives again,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But ever sighs upon the summer breeze,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And groaneth in the trees:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Still though thou be, verily thou art forlorn,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23">{23}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Beloved thorn!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_REALM">THE REALM</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">England hath many an honest hand,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Or bare or silken gloved:<br></span> +<span class="i0">But what is there within the land<br></span> +<span class="i2">That she should be so well beloved?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she hath many an haughty town<br></span> +<span class="i2">That liveth in her law,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But fairer is the linnet brown,<br></span> +<span class="i2">That singeth in the leafy shaw.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she hath many a nobleman,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Ay, many, and to spare!<br></span> +<span class="i0">But better is the plowman Dan,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Though that he drive the earthy share:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For towns and noblemen are made<br></span> +<span class="i2">By silly fortune’s dole,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But birds, and they who wield the spade,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24">{24}</a></span> +<span class="i2">They are green England’s singing soul.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_TOILER_IN_THE_DARK">THE TOILER IN THE DARK</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beloved, cease thy slavery.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Dear and most godlike, never keep<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thine heart for sorrows less than thee.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou who by day wouldst cease to weep,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But who dost hug the dark, be free!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy countenance most kingly bends<br></span> +<span class="i2">Towards the earth; thy tressed hair<br></span> +<span class="i0">With tarnished gauds, unworthy, blends;<br></span> +<span class="i2">On shining shoulders dost thou bear<br></span> +<span class="i0">The woes and whelming tyrannies<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of this poor flesh that strives and dies:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not knowing that all thy many bands<br></span> +<span class="i2">Are rotten through, and those grim shades<br></span> +<span class="i0">That ride thy back and bind thine hands,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Are of that realm that truth invades<br></span> +<span class="i0">And conquers with a heavenly might;<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25">{25}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Lift up thine eyes: behold, the light!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_KING">THE KING</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never to rule with an iron stave,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Nor a sceptre of gold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But with the skirt of his blue robe brave<br></span> +<span class="i2">To keep thee from the cold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And for to hold thee from the grave<br></span> +<span class="i2">Within his vesture’s fold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Was made that sovereign that men have<br></span> +<span class="i2">These many summers told.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And never with gems crowned to be,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Nor with sable invest,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But with a branch of the brier tree<br></span> +<span class="i2">To adorn head and breast;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, with a rod of the red rose,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And a wreath of the white,<br></span> +<span class="i0">He shall the whole of thee enclose<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26">{26}</a></span> +<span class="i2">For a passing delight.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="ENCHANTED">ENCHANTED</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of wight waylaid of faery, and of enchantments enchainéd,<br></span> +<span class="i2">What singeth one unto the height of heaven?<br></span> +<span class="i0">“This one boldly hath battled and this refrainéd”;<br></span> +<span class="i8">O easily maketh a little man<br></span> +<span class="i8">The lay of a lounging courtesan!<br></span> +<span class="i2">But for a bewitching and a spell must seemly song be given.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The long and lingering eventide<br></span> +<span class="i2">In the wood did gild the grass;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And she, like to a shining bride,<br></span> +<span class="i2">To a moveless flame did pass,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And dead leaves were fashioned brass.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou Perkin, as men called thee,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Fully well didst know thy doom;<br></span> +<span class="i0">As stilly and as silently<br></span> +<span class="i2">As eglantine doth hold her bloom<br></span> +<span class="i2">Goldenly upon a gloom:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And with foreknowledge didst go<br></span> +<span class="i2">To the castles of thy kin,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That for lessening of their woe<br></span> +<span class="i2">Have no soul and little sin;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Prithee keep thou safe within!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Free of murder and of malice<br></span> +<span class="i2">Flowereth the common weed;<br></span> +<span class="i0">From a featly fashioned chalice<br></span> +<span class="i2">Faery foxglove sows her seed,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27">{27}</a></span> +<span class="i2">And is a royal herb indeed:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Didst thou of her purple reap,<br></span> +<span class="i2">That thou mightest never turn<br></span> +<span class="i0">To a warmly thatchéd sleep<br></span> +<span class="i2">And the cottage hearths that burn<br></span> +<span class="i2">Peat and furze and forest fern?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay perchance; what is a fire<br></span> +<span class="i2">Made of turves, of heavy smoke,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Smouldering in a cabined byre,<br></span> +<span class="i2">To the fires of faery folk<br></span> +<span class="i2">That the husbandmen invoke?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pacing down the alleys green<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou didst go, and now art lost<br></span> +<span class="i0">The beeches and the briers between,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And the dewy ways are crossed<br></span> +<span class="i2">Only by thy gentle ghost.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The large-eyed cony followeth<br></span> +<span class="i2">Where do walk thy quiet feet,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And unfearing of her death<br></span> +<span class="i2">Culleth her accustomed meat<br></span> +<span class="i2">In the even passing sweet.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The cloud beside the hill doth stand;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou beyond them both dost dwell<br></span> +<span class="i0">In a far and fairy land;<br></span> +<span class="i2">And yet dost sit beside the well<br></span> +<span class="i2">Darkling in the dimpled dell.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou dost turn thy wildling look<br></span> +<span class="i2">Gravely on a passing face;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Never man, in any book,<br></span> +<span class="i2">That most still regard may trace;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Stay thou thus a little space<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28">{28}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Blessing all the neighbour place.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1915.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_SINGER">THE SINGER</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amidst all grief shalt thou be void of woe,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And nevermore thy chanting shalt thou cease,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For thee I have ordained, that thou go<br></span> +<span class="i2">Most mightily, and heal with all my peace,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That the fair sum of me may well increase;<br></span> +<span class="i2">And when my children weep the bitter frost<br></span> +<span class="i0">Clad foolishly in rags, in lieu of fleece,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Sing to them that they be not wholly lost.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I make to me my ministers, and they<br></span> +<span class="i2">Charitably do walk in many a guise,<br></span> +<span class="i0">By many a leafy path and paved way,<br></span> +<span class="i2">With brooding peace enthroned in their eyes;<br></span> +<span class="i0">How the vast earth is clamorous with cries<br></span> +<span class="i2">Of all her creatures miserably tossed!<br></span> +<span class="i0">But these that I have signalled to arise<br></span> +<span class="i2">Sing to them that they be not wholly lost.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is not seemly the elect should weep,<br></span> +<span class="i2">They have no heritage in agony.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Calmly thine heart in thy still bosom keep<br></span> +<span class="i2">And let importunate sorrow pass thee by;<br></span> +<span class="i0">More than thy brethren have, the very sky<br></span> +<span class="i2">Is thine, with many stars and clouds embossed;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Out of this wealth and all this majesty<br></span> +<span class="i2">Sing to them that they be not wholly lost.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Prince of the earth, when such as thee do die,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Laid in rich pall, with gentle hands there crossed,<br></span> +<span class="i0">All my clear sprites in Paradise that lie<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29">{29}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Sing to them that they be not wholly lost.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1916.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="ALONE">ALONE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the west way of the wood,<br></span> +<span class="i2">When light doth gild its floor,<br></span> +<span class="i0">My spirit saith, “O solitude!”<br></span> +<span class="i2">And shuts her chamber door;<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And doth a solemn silence keep.<br></span> +<span class="i2">I think that she doth pray,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But whether she doth smile or weep<br></span> +<span class="i2">I may not know nor say.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My body standeth still, mine eyes<br></span> +<span class="i2">About the hills do range;<br></span> +<span class="i0">I shall not know her mysteries,<br></span> +<span class="i2">For they are passing strange;<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the eve falleth, quiet as death,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Or as a faery’s glance;<br></span> +<span class="i0">When from her door she issueth<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30">{30}</a></span> +<span class="i2">She is all radiance.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1916.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="A_CITY_CHURCHYARD">A CITY CHURCHYARD</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why liest here, when there are lands<br></span> +<span class="i0">Filled with peace and beauties free?<br></span> +<span class="i0">“Since my sleep contenteth me,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Here do I fold my hands,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Here upon my quiet breast,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And here do rest.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the long and sounding shore<br></span> +<span class="i0">Calleth from afar; O hear!<br></span> +<span class="i0">“I am void of any fear,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Healed are my troubles sore;<br></span> +<span class="i0">My feet sans motion are composed<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31">{31}</a></span> +<span class="i0">And mine eyes are closed.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1916.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_WATERS_OF_PARADISE">THE WATERS OF PARADISE.</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Paradise there is a sea<br></span> +<span class="i2">Blue as the turkis stone,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And many passing wonders be<br></span> +<span class="i2">Hid in its depths alone;<br></span> +<span class="i0">But seen of all the folk of neighbour land,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Whose quiet feet do walk the yellow strand.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And since that shore is void of man<br></span> +<span class="i2">No sail about it flies,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But hundred-hued Leviathan<br></span> +<span class="i2">Like a prone rainbow lies,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And looketh on the weaving waters wan<br></span> +<span class="i2">With stilly emerald eyes.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And though no sail move on the deep<br></span> +<span class="i2">As calm as any mere,<br></span> +<span class="i0">A radiant folk, who may not weep,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Without a sail do steer,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And very pleasant ways and winding keep<br></span> +<span class="i2">Above the solemn clear.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Par miracle, I once did go<br></span> +<span class="i2">And stood upon the shore;<br></span> +<span class="i0">A gemmy archipelago<br></span> +<span class="i2">The gemmy waters bore,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And all those sprites that are unchained of woe<br></span> +<span class="i2">Do dwell there evermore.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like to the summer leaves that make<br></span> +<span class="i2">A little whispering,<br></span> +<span class="i0">These folk that dwellen in the lake<br></span> +<span class="i2">Full fairly say and sing,<br></span> +<span class="i0">As waters blown at night, that wake<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32">{32}</a></span> +<span class="i2">With a sweet murmuring.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1916.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_QUIET_THOUGHT">THE QUIET THOUGHT.</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Doth the loud world aye clamour in thine ears?<br></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, never weep; for the loud world doth pass.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Faint in the distance die her shrieking fears,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Leaving serenest silence, and the grass<br></span> +<span class="i0">Waveth her plumy ranks of tender spears<br></span> +<span class="i2">Above the green and blossoming morass.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weary thy body; yea, and so thine heart,<br></span> +<span class="i2">But these be none of thee, for thou dost dwell<br></span> +<span class="i0">Unsullied in a clearer space apart,<br></span> +<span class="i2">In a great beauty words may never tell,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Nor any of the shifts of petty art;<br></span> +<span class="i2">And of this heritage bethink thee well.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Know thou art for the healing of mankind,<br></span> +<span class="i2">For his soul’s health was made thy clarity,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And for the fearless faring of his mind,<br></span> +<span class="i2">By many a winding way to wenden free:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Sense to the dead, and vision to the blind,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Think on these riches, this nobility.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through all the woe thou seest, calm abide,<br></span> +<span class="i2">(O worthless woe, that maketh men to weep!)<br></span> +<span class="i0">Since thou hast sanctuary. Beatified,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Ay, happy ever rests thy spirit deep,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Like the clear snow on silent pastures wide,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33">{33}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Joyful as love, and calm as sacred sleep.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1916.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="TO_RIGHTEOUSNESS_OUTCAST_AND_DISGUISED">TO RIGHTEOUSNESS OUTCAST AND DISGUISED.</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, sweet, they have forsworn thee. Thou dost roam<br></span> +<span class="i0">Clad in foul motley, yea, in beggars’ weeds,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dear delight of angels in fair deeds,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou purity! Thou messenger from home,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The which is heaven, and all whose silent meads<br></span> +<span class="i0">Are peopled with thy children white as ocean foam.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As she might charm the waves to constancy<br></span> +<span class="i0">Singeth sad Philomel in woeful guise,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Still is she left forlorn; and so thine eyes<br></span> +<span class="i0">For all their godhead turn not men to thee:<br></span> +<span class="i0">And thou are like the weary dove that flies<br></span> +<span class="i0">Between the gray heaven and the desert gulfs of sea.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think not upon us, lady, lest thou weep:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Since that we sully thee, hie hence away:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Spend not thine heart from day to weary day<br></span> +<span class="i0">On the salt shores from which thou mayest not reap;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Go to thy babes, thy little ones, and say,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34">{34}</a></span> +<span class="i0">“Sweetings, I grow your herbs and flowers while ye sleep.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="SPRITE_ALONE">SPRITE ALONE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sad is thy voice as the thin cry of the plover<br></span> +<span class="i0">On the ridged loam<br></span> +<span class="i0">All the chill ghostly night: but when ’tis over<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt hie home.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cease thou to roam<br></span> +<span class="i0">When the willow wavers with a whispered warning<br></span> +<span class="i0">That on the foam<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of his tossed streams doth shine the silver morning;<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then rest, rover,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And stay, feet.<br></span> +<span class="i0">The woe is over,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The day flies fleet;<br></span> +<span class="i0">The lands and the waters,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The dark and the morn<br></span> +<span class="i0">Full fairly do meet;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven’s sons and daughters<br></span> +<span class="i0">Themselves do adorn<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35">{35}</a></span> +<span class="i0">To wander through the flowery woods, and the sloped fields of corn.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="PRAYER_FOR_A_FAIR_PEOPLE">PRAYER FOR A FAIR PEOPLE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We thy beloved are most poor,<br></span> +<span class="i2">That entertain not innocence.<br></span> +<span class="i0">We are not steadfast to endure;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Make thou the men, when we go hence,<br></span> +<span class="i0">With a great spirit of thee and sure,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Joy that shall need no penitence.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Make them than all their love more saint,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Make them than yellow gold more fair:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Now have I ended all my plaint,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Now have I made thee all my prayer;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the last incense, thin and faint,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Smokes upward from mine altar stair.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_PROMISED_REST">THE PROMISED REST.</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, thou shalt have thy peace, thy calm delight,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Dim sanctuary, thy canopy of leaves;<br></span> +<span class="i0">The light web that the summer starlight weaves<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the wild wayfaring of waters bright,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And songs of husbandmen among the sheaves:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thus may thou be with many glories dight,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36">{36}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Thus sit and sing under thy forest eaves.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_EARTH_AND_THE_HEAVEN_IN_THE_EVENING">THE EARTH AND THE HEAVEN IN THE EVENING</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Earth draws off her robe of broidered flowers,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And in green kirtle standeth for a space<br></span> +<span class="i0">Ere she doth wrap her for the silent hours<br></span> +<span class="i2">In her white shift of mist, and veils her face;<br></span> +<span class="i0">She standeth in her kirtle green, and saith<br></span> +<span class="i0">Her evening prayer, whose incense is her breath.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here are no unquiet sounds and no alarms;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Hence all that is not gentle doth depart.<br></span> +<span class="i0">She takes her weary children in her arms<br></span> +<span class="i2">That she may warm them at her kindly heart;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Are any poor, knowing that they all lie<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lapped in her light embraces silently?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Heaven doth wear upon her holy breast<br></span> +<span class="i2">The argent moon, her badge; her livery,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That is a royal, rich and azure vest,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Shows she doth serve a might majesty;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And a fair weed, purple and cinnamon,<br></span> +<span class="i0">She now above that silken vest doth on.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How might man image her in his own guise?<br></span> +<span class="i2">As a crowned spirit quiet as forest lawns,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Void of all woe and of all sad surprise,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Facing eternal sunsets and bright dawns,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And brooding o’er him that he may not mark<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37">{37}</a></span> +<span class="i0">The outer tempests and the empty dark.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="MELILOTE">MELILOTE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a lady queen that dwells<br></span> +<span class="i2">In the green midmost of the vales,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Under the faery fells:<br></span> +<span class="i0">She hath five singers, O fairer than asphodels!<br></span> +<span class="i2">And a teller of tales.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The five singers are passing young;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Harvests, and mists of magic years,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the clear throstle’s tongue<br></span> +<span class="i0">That in the same thicket for seven summers hath sung,<br></span> +<span class="i2">These are their only peers;<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mayhap with voices of the shore,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Embroidery of the sea’s one sigh,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The listener weepeth sore,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For his estate, that lacketh tuneful lore,<br></span> +<span class="i2">As the song paceth by.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, but the teller of tales is old.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Less fair is he, but comforteth.<br></span> +<span class="i0">When thou art sore acold<br></span> +<span class="i0">Sit by him on the hearth, to be made hot and bold,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And to laugh at thy death:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is thy mortal fashioning.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Think ye the queen, hight Melilote,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Weepeth to hear them sing,<br></span> +<span class="i0">These five, and laugheth with an outworn thing<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38">{38}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Clad in a greasy coat?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THY_SONG_IS_LIKE_A_LEMON_TREE">THY SONG IS LIKE A LEMON TREE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy song is like a lemon tree;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lyon ly! the golden air!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Art thou not of Gascony?<br></span> +<span class="i0">It burgeoneth so merrily<br></span> +<span class="i0">And of blossom is not bare:<br></span> +<span class="i0">And it chaunteth, lyon ly,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lyon ly, et lon lon laire.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy lay is like the flying swan;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Ly, lon lon, l’estrangère,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou are fair to look upon!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where might man thy singing con,<br></span> +<span class="i0">So to kill his every care?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lyon ly, et lon lon lon,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lyon ly, et lon lon laire.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy song sounded right hardily;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lyon ly, the lovely fair!<br></span> +<span class="i0">And thou lookest scornfully.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Art thou not of Gascony?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Certes not of other-where!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Well, farewell; et lyon ly,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39">{39}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Lyon ly, et lon lon laire.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="SONG2">SONG</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The end of true love is to sit and mourn;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Heigh ho, the end of love!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Under the shadow of the naked thorn,<br></span> +<span class="i2">With his thin boughs above.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The end of true love is to lie and weep;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Heigh ho, to weep alone!<br></span> +<span class="i0">On the cold bosom of the mountain steep,<br></span> +<span class="i2">By a gray boulder stone.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The end of true love is to fare forth far;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Heigh ho, the empty ways!<br></span> +<span class="i0">To the bare places where the great winds are.<br></span> +<span class="i2">And there to spend his days.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The end of true love is a sorry end;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Heigh ho, the weary death!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Marvel it is that everyman should tend<br></span> +<span class="i2">Poor love which vanisheth.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love’s is a life not any leech may save;<br></span> +<span class="i2">So, since he’s fair,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And thou must full soon lay him in his grave,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40">{40}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Be love thy care.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_POOR_POET">THE POOR POET</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The voices from the bough<br></span> +<span class="i0">Do carol clear enow:<br></span> +<span class="i0">The eglantine in many a bush<br></span> +<span class="i0">Doth to the light her blossoms push;<br></span> +<span class="i0">While I sing diligently<br></span> +<span class="i0">And strive for my poor bread.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bough to the birds all<br></span> +<span class="i0">Is a high heavenly hall,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And to the enamelled eglantine<br></span> +<span class="i0">The ceiling of her quiet shrine;<br></span> +<span class="i0">But I say sorrowfully,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Ah me, the homeless head!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sparrow hath his mate<br></span> +<span class="i0">And is not desolate:<br></span> +<span class="i0">The flower, complete unto herself,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Never pursues a wraithy elf:<br></span> +<span class="i0">O black-eyed Melancholy,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41">{41}</a></span> +<span class="i0">I never shall be wed!<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_FRIENDS">THE FRIENDS</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thee are chosen want and wayfaring<br></span> +<span class="i0">In place of goods and ease thou dost desire,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Nor shall thy days the meanest comfort bring.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hidden from thee, that lookest on the mire,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Is every comeliness: thy very tears<br></span> +<span class="i0">Wake not a weeping string in heaven’s quire;<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But are distilled from all thy suffered years<br></span> +<span class="i0">As an ungracious and unwishéd rain,<br></span> +<span class="i0">When every hill a robe of torrent wears:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And not of anything art thou so fain<br></span> +<span class="i0">As of dull Death. So art thou justified,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For he shall bid thine angel sing again:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shall set for thee his pleasant portals wide,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And thou that fleddest the rude breath of woe<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yet scaped him not, shalt see beatified<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His direful children: smiling shalt thou go<br></span> +<span class="i0">And say, “Want, am I welcome, friend? And lo,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42">{42}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Sorrow my sister, Plague mine housefellow.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="WELL_BELOVED">WELL BELOVED</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O well-beloved is the wood;<br></span> +<span class="i2">It is a wonder to walk therein.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Peopled of spirits is every rood.<br></span> +<span class="i2">And evil spirits are they or good?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Neither evil are they nor good,<br></span> +<span class="i2">They know not any sin.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fitfully do thy footsteps fall<br></span> +<span class="i2">On echoing path or mossy lawn;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And if thine eyes behold, in all<br></span> +<span class="i0">The hoary thickets is festival;<br></span> +<span class="i0">The silent people hold festival,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And thither are thou drawn.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go near softly and eat with them.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Take your fill of fairies’ meat.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Wear the wreathy diadem<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of the blossoming hawthorn stem,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of the enchanted hawthorn stem<br></span> +<span class="i2">That smelleth passing sweet.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Better are all these misty eyne<br></span> +<span class="i2">That smile not, and do never weep,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Than those bright mortal eyes of thine<br></span> +<span class="i0">That with all joys and woes must shine,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That with full many tears must shine<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43">{43}</a></span> +<span class="i2">And then be closed in sleep:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Better these slender limbs and pale<br></span> +<span class="i2">Than all thy lovely white and red.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice ten years shall be thy tale<br></span> +<span class="i0">Till thy fairness all must fail,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Then two score; and thou must fail,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And soon be vanishéd:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vanish’d behind the mantle of morn,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Lightly lost as a gossamer<br></span> +<span class="i0">That like a ghostly robe is borne<br></span> +<span class="i0">When autumn seemeth most forlorn,<br></span> +<span class="i0">In the ways of the woods forlorn<br></span> +<span class="i2">A moment’s passenger:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Profits me nought to look on thee,<br></span> +<span class="i2">I will go to the other folk,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Neither sadly nor merrily<br></span> +<span class="i0">Dwelling beside the twisted tree;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Quiet-hued as any winter tree,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Slight as a spire of smoke;<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heeding no heaven, no stately art,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Silent they roam the leafy chace.<br></span> +<span class="i0">They die not, nor do they depart.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fleet fly the sylvan hind and hart;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Gentle as hind, and swift as hart,<br></span> +<span class="i2">They dwell in their own place.<br></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44">{44}</a></span></div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_LUTE">THE LUTE</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Sweet Voice, do thou begin<br></span> +<span class="i18">With sorrow<br></span> +<span class="i12">Singing of the sour herb sin;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Fair-blossomed now and small, but on the morrow<br></span> +<span class="i12">Most harshly fruited<br></span> +<span class="i12">And deeply rooted:<br></span> +<span class="i12">Sigh thou, “O peace,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Parch up the evil herb and wither him.”<br></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, gentle Lute, hear there the Cherubim!<br></span> +<span class="i18">So; cease.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Dost thou not mark the Air,<br></span> +<span class="i18">That Majesty,<br></span> +<span class="i12">That Paragon of grave and fair?<br></span> +<span class="i0">Keen exaltatiön and coron’d beauty:<br></span> +<span class="i12">Sweet melancholy<br></span> +<span class="i12">At length made wholly<br></span> +<span class="i12">The mate of peace;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Well dost thou say, “Impatient of my State,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Silent henceforth I stand at heaven’s gate:”<br></span> +<span class="i18">So; cease.<br></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45">{45}</a></span></div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_COMPANION_OF_YOUTH">THE COMPANION OF YOUTH</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never is seen thy countenance<br></span> +<span class="i0">In the summer-burthened glades<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where no leaf hath power to dance;<br></span> +<span class="i0">In the bosom of the shades<br></span> +<span class="i0">The melancholy heat lies still,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the one flower that burgeon will<br></span> +<span class="i0">Is a blossom born of bale,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The enchanter’s nightshade pale,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Darkly leaved, and wan of face,<br></span> +<span class="i0">With a grief-begotten grace;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Faint with thirst of the night dew<br></span> +<span class="i0">The leafy branches let not through;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Her aspect says thou art afar,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where cold and fair retreated are.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the earth with leaves is strown,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt think on the high lane,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And upon these fields, thine own,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And swiftly shalt return again;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where the loam is fret with moles,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where the leaden beechen boles<br></span> +<span class="i0">Shine on the steep bank dight with red,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Down upon a hanging bough<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt lean thy radiant head<br></span> +<span class="i0">Resting on thy folded hands,<br></span> +<span class="i0">While a gentle sun and low<br></span> +<span class="i0">Shows thee all thy misty lands.<br></span> +<span class="i0">I come upon thee suddenly,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Clothed upon with mellow light,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And silence that is melody,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And coldness that is warm delight;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And upon thy kingdom look<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where the quiet woods are hung,<br></span> +<span class="i0">As it were a magic book<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46">{46}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Written in a vanished tongue.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When spring first hath power to smile,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And russet twigs are bright with gold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Half veiling, for a dazzling mile,<br></span> +<span class="i2">The airy distance blue and cold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the byways dost thou run,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And in the royal path dost rove,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Saying unto a wandering one,<br></span> +<span class="i2">“Go make me songs to praise my love;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Chant and chime, pipe and blow,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Make what sounds shall seem thee good,<br></span> +<span class="i0">As the sea-wave smitten to snow,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Or a fountain in a wood;<br></span> +<span class="i0">But silent shalt thou have no blame,<br></span> +<span class="i2">She requireth not thy singing,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And thou knowest not her name,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Though with her name the ways are ringing;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yet soothly thou shalt find it graven<br></span> +<span class="i0">On the stones of thy last haven.”<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But thou art kindliest and quietest<br></span> +<span class="i2">When it is winter, and the white frost lies<br></span> +<span class="i0">Like heaven’s hand upon the meadow’s breast.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Serene and virginal the taper’d skies;<br></span> +<span class="i0">The naked trees, as sprites unchained of flesh,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Are thy denial of mortality,<br></span> +<span class="i0">With locks adorned of gems in every mesh.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou risest from the dark as I pass by,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And through the chaste airs measurest with mine<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thine unheard steps, and nothing sing’st nor sayest.<br></span> +<span class="i0">The galaxy full loftily doth shine:<br></span> +<span class="i2">Would these were all my days! Still mute thou stayest—<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47">{47}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Depart not hence; go with me while thou mayest.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1917.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_MAIDS_BURIAL">THE MAID’S BURIAL</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No flower hath shed the sheath;<br></span> +<span class="i2">The wood is all brown.<br></span> +<span class="i0">When you have passed the heath.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Then lay her down.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There the beloved head<br></span> +<span class="i2">And the still breast,<br></span> +<span class="i0">When the last foot hath fled,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Sleep shall, and rest.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Freshly the spring wind<br></span> +<span class="i2">Bloweth for her sake;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Cold, but exceeding kind,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Ere any bud awake.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Chill is the thin breeze<br></span> +<span class="i2">That wafteth off the deep,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yet marreth no man’s ease<br></span> +<span class="i2">Nor drives him home to sleep:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Graciously doth it go,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And savour doth afford<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of early blossoms mixt with snow,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48">{48}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Though neither be abroad.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1918.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_MISSAL">THE MISSAL</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is as though some babe, that loveth hues<br></span> +<span class="i4">Gay as a tincture here may be,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Took the strong noon unto the early dews<br></span> +<span class="i0">And fashioned wisdom fair and faithfully;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, how above their gemmy vesture glances<br></span> +<span class="i0">The august look of steadfast countenances.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like the pearled flower that opens on the prime,<br></span> +<span class="i4">Like a high city seen from far<br></span> +<span class="i0">Through leagues of virgin air, so they through time,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Pensively as through even looks the star,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Remote and wan: and every shining tress<br></span> +<span class="i0">Lieth in grave and ordered loveliness.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The entrailéd thorn, the dolphin and the pard,<br></span> +<span class="i4">The rose and royal unicorn,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Life and his labour, valour and his reward,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Plain in the venerable page are borne:<br></span> +<span class="i0">But that fair aspect most delighteth; when<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49">{49}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Man may not see that innocence again.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1918.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="SEEK_THE_WIDE_SOLACE">SEEK THE WIDE SOLACE.</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seek the wide solace, never leave her shore.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Stretch not thine hands abroad in misery<br></span> +<span class="i0">To have them filled with woe for evermore.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Fold then thine hands; thy spirit tranquilly<br></span> +<span class="i10">This shall believe,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Pitiful of thine heart to see him grieve:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The silly strife, the dirge of ease and mirth,<br></span> +<span class="i2">The mournful murmur of unquiet sleep,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Like brawling brooks that scar the constant earth,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Shall fall on silence in the brooding deep;<br></span> +<span class="i10">Vanish, well lost<br></span> +<span class="i2">As changeling is into the faery host:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all those swift and broken waters, fain<br></span> +<span class="i2">Of a full rest now that their rest looks fair,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Not as their own bright tears shall be the rain,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Nor climb in clouds the weary steeps of air,<br></span> +<span class="i10">But to and fro<br></span> +<span class="i2">As an assoiled sleeping heart shall go;<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With such majestic air and simple state<br></span> +<span class="i2">That they shall look as one face to the sun,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And with one only voice shall sing their fate;<br></span> +<span class="i2">Graciously moving here and there, as one<br></span> +<span class="i10">Grave in his pace,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50">{50}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whose way lies not in any market-place.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1918.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="ELFESHILL">ELFESHILL</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair is the gentle field that lies<br></span> +<span class="i0">Between the wood both great and old,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the thin shaw whose saplings hold<br></span> +<span class="i0">All shy and secret harmonies;<br></span> +<span class="i0">There by that field they hear themselves<br></span> +<span class="i0">Sigh spells into the air, above<br></span> +<span class="i0">The place that hath an hill of elves<br></span> +<span class="i0">Standing in the midst thereof.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Round is the hill, and deep in flowers,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And soundeth, with a pleasant tone,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And many a burthen of his own,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The enchanted Tune of Seven Towers:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his gracious head the eve<br></span> +<span class="i0">Quickens the coloured light, and still<br></span> +<span class="i0">When other hills are dark, doth leave<br></span> +<span class="i0">A glimmer to the elfeshill.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dun cow<br></span> +<span class="i0">Standeth half seen;<br></span> +<span class="i0">The lily calf<br></span> +<span class="i0">Moveth on the magic green:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Which mayest thou love most,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Their eyes or their calm breath?<br></span> +<span class="i0">The wraith of all that thou hast lost<br></span> +<span class="i0">Here doth hasten to his death.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, thus the ghost is fled,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Like imagin’d ivory<br></span> +<span class="i0">Over the hill’s head;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell his memory;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Faintly the leaves chill<br></span> +<span class="i0">Waft spells into the air, above<br></span> +<span class="i0">The field that hath an elfeshill<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51">{51}</a></span> +<span class="i0">Standing in the midst thereof.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1918.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_SORROW_OF_TRUTH">THE SORROW OF TRUTH.</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Light aspens stand above the silken grass,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And send upon the twilight their wan look,<br></span> +<span class="i0">More wan for the long thought of what doth pass.<br></span> +<span class="i0">There in the stream, half river and half brook,<br></span> +<span class="i0">They gaze, entwining all their sister arms,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And pale to read the dream within his glass.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Together in the bank their feet are set,<br></span> +<span class="i0">While all the air low mourneth, and chill harms<br></span> +<span class="i0">Hover where the bright heads are closely met.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For they have seen that sprite of even go<br></span> +<span class="i0">By their light stems, that makes disconsolate<br></span> +<span class="i0">What is of earth, whether of mire or snow,<br></span> +<span class="i0">For that he showeth him his poor estate;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Innocent making sorrow with sweet mirth,<br></span> +<span class="i0">As on warped limbs the winds of heaven blow.<br></span> +<span class="i0">The slender trees stand fast in the cold clay,<br></span> +<span class="i0">That is their death and was their silent birth,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the brave look abroad is cast away.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the sprite passeth, coming to that place<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where the folk sit, and entereth thereto<br></span> +<span class="i0">To talk of byres, and grain that swells apace:<br></span> +<span class="i0">But in the ancient murmur something new<br></span> +<span class="i0">Strikes on their hearts, and they turn wondering<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52">{52}</a></span> +<span class="i0">And with a fixed regard, to read his face.<br></span> +<span class="i0">He standeth in the shadow by the door,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And while his vesture is a radiant thing,<br></span> +<span class="i0">All that is rich of theirs is grievous poor.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, poor and thin as leaves of the last year,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Made for woe’s children by her starvéd hand,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Faint mottled with all livid hues and drear,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Like to dried blood and the pale thirsting sand:<br></span> +<span class="i0">And in the midst of these each countenance<br></span> +<span class="i0">Looketh upon the sprite, anon with fear,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Anon with hunger and great eagerness,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yet with no understanding: woeful glance!<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thus the poor stones unwillingly might bless<br></span> +<span class="i0">With trembling love that is both faint and far<br></span> +<span class="i0">The light that they with their swart bodies mar,<br></span> +<span class="i0">The sun that sheweth their uncomeliness.<br></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="PAST">PAST</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">More than we know thou knewest<br></span> +<span class="i2">Of all light and sweetness,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou that fairly grewest<br></span> +<span class="i2">To thy brief completeness:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Hear how the hills mourn for thee!<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou hearest but thou heedest not.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Were the green hills born for thee<br></span> +<span class="i2">Lightly thus to be forgot?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knowing but small fairness,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Seeing but the shadow<br></span> +<span class="i0">Even of earth’s rareness<br></span> +<span class="i2">In an earthly meadow,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yet we live in thought thereof,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And our deepest heart of being<br></span> +<span class="i0">Hath a garment wrought thereof,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Meetly fair for heaven’s seeing.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But thy vail is finer,<br></span> +<span class="i2">More thou hadst: yet fleddest<br></span> +<span class="i0">To a thing diviner<br></span> +<span class="i2">Than the light thou sheddest:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Vain is the sweet praise of thee,<br></span> +<span class="i2">What we sing but poor thou deemest,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Alien from the ways of thee;<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54">{54}</a></span> +<span class="i2">But we thirst for what thou dreamest.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haply now thou sendest<br></span> +<span class="i2">Down the airs of even,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Word of where thou wendest<br></span> +<span class="i2">In the ways of heaven;<br></span> +<span class="i0">But the quiet hath taken thee,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And though quick with longing calleth<br></span> +<span class="i0">Many a voice to waken thee,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Silence on thine answer falleth.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">More than we know thou knewest<br></span> +<span class="i2">Of all light and sweetness,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Thou that fairly grewest<br></span> +<span class="i2">To thy brief completeness:<br></span> +<span class="i0">Hear how the hills mourn for thee!<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou hearest but thou heedest not.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Were the green hills born for thee<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55">{55}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Lightly thus to be forgot?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1918.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THINK_THOU_UPON_THE_BITTER_STRAND">THINK THOU UPON THE BITTER STRAND</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think thou upon the bitter strand<br></span> +<span class="i2">Where the down sleeps leaning towards the sea,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And of the vanished fair who rode in the land<br></span> +<span class="i2">Swiftly and far and wide and merrily:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And again think on bright hair,<br></span> +<span class="i2">That was yellow, before it became dust,<br></span> +<span class="i0">As broom looketh that blows in the upland air,<br></span> +<span class="i2">But never think upon the hearts of the just:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thou mayest pity the salt shore<br></span> +<span class="i2">And the dead fair, her gay locks vanished and gone,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But the just keep their hearts for evermore,<br></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56">{56}</a></span> +<span class="i2">Nor art thou filled with thinking thereupon.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1918.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<h2><a id="THE_CONSUMMATION">THE CONSUMMATION</a></h2> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Looks royal, songs for heaven meet,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou wishest, thinking on his worth<br></span> +<span class="i0">Whose faintest image is more sweet<br></span> +<span class="i2">Than all thy dearest loves on earth.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The royal look is marred with years,<br></span> +<span class="i2">The song celestial is made<br></span> +<span class="i0">Into a litany of tears,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Into a blossom of the shade.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou art fordone: thine heart is rent<br></span> +<span class="i2">To praise who hath no fear nor shame.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Yet when thine utmost life is spent<br></span> +<span class="i2">Thou hast not even said his name:<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But peace, the triumph is not ripe.<br></span> +<span class="i2">Canst thou not sleep a little space,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Or dream upon the oaten pipe<br></span> +<span class="i2">Till there appear the wishéd face?<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then well sufficing shall arise<br></span> +<span class="i2">From thy quiet heart that was so wrung,<br></span> +<span class="i0">A look in those translated eyes,<br></span> +<span class="i2">A word in that diviner tongue.<br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="idate">1918.<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<hr class="full"> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79394 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |