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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18726-h.zip b/18726-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe9d95f --- /dev/null +++ b/18726-h.zip diff --git a/18726-h/18726-h.htm b/18726-h/18726-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f589be --- /dev/null +++ b/18726-h/18726-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4058 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Poems And Ballads, by Algernon Charles Swinburne + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + td.r {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} /* aligning cell content to the right */ + td.l {text-align: left; vertical-align: top;} /* aligning cell content to the left */ + + div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .gap { margin-top: 4em; } /* adds white space on title page */ + .biggap { margin-top: 6em; } /* adds white space on title page */ + + a { text-decoration: none; } + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems and Ballads (Third Series), by +Algernon Charles Swinburne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Poems and Ballads (Third Series) + Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles + Swinburne--Vol. III + +Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne + +Release Date: July 1, 2006 [EBook #18726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS AND BALLADS (THIRD SERIES) *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Lisa Reigel, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1 style="margin-top: 3em;">Poems and Ballads</h1> + +<h3 style="margin-top: 3em;">Third Series</h3> + +<h4 style="margin-top: 6em;">By</h4> + +<h2>Algernon Charles Swinburne</h2> + +<h4 style="margin-top: 6em;">TAKEN FROM<br /></h4> +<h3 style="margin-bottom: 3em;">THE COLLECTED POETICAL WORKS OF ALGERNON CHARLES +SWINBURNE—VOL. III</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3 style="margin-top: 3em;">THE COLLECTED POETICAL WORKS OF ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE</h3> + +<h5>VOL. III</h5> + + +<h4 style="margin-top: 3em;">POEMS & BALLADS</h4> + +<h5>(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES)</h5> + +<h5>AND</h5> + +<h4 style="margin-bottom: 3em;">SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>SWINBURNE'S POETICAL WORKS</h2> + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="8" summary="works"> +<tr> + <td class="r">I.</td> + <td class="l"><span class="smcap">Poems and Ballads</span> (First Series).<br /></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="r">II.</td> + <td class="l"><span class="smcap">Songs before Sunrise</span>, and <span class="smcap">Songs of Two Nations</span>.<br /></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="r">III.</td> + <td class="l"><span class="smcap">Poems and Ballads</span> (Second and Third Series), and <span class="smcap">Songs of The Springtides</span>.<br /></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="r">IV.</td> + <td class="l"><span class="smcap">Tristram of Lyonesse, The Tale of Balen, Atalanta in Calydon, Erechtheus.<br /></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="r">V.</td> + <td class="l"><span class="smcap">Studies in Song, A Century of Roundels, Sonnets on English Dramatic Poets, The Heptalogia, Etc.<br /></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="r">VI.</td> + <td class="l"><span class="smcap">A Midsummer Holiday, Astrophel, A Channel Passage and Other Poems.<br /></span></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + + +<h4>LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1 style="margin-top: 4em">POEMS & BALLADS</h1> + + +<h3>(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES)</h3> + +<h4>AND</h4> + +<h2>SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES</h2> + + +<h3 style="margin-top: 3em">By</h3> + +<h2>Algernon Charles Swinburne</h2> + + +<h4 style="margin-top: 3em">1917</h4> + +<p class="gap center">LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN</p> + + +<p class="center biggap"><i>First printed (Chatto), 1904</i><br /> + +<i>Reprinted 1904, '09, '10, '12</i><br /> + +<i>(Heinemann), 1917</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap"><i>London: William Heinemann, 1917</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2 style="margin-top: 2em;">POEMS AND BALLADS</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Third Series</span></h3> + + + +<div class="centered"> +<table width="80%" cellpadding="3" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="r">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span><span class="smcap">March: an Ode</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Commonweal</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Armada</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">To a Seamew</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Pan and Thalassius</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Ballad of Bath</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">In a Garden</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Rhyme</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Baby-Bird</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Olive</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Word with the Wind</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Neap-Tide</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">By the Wayside</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Night</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span><span class="smcap">In Time of Mourning</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Interpreters</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Recall</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">By Twilight</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Baby's Epitaph</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">On the Death of Sir Henry Taylor</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">In Memory of John William Inchbold</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">New Year's Day</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">To Sir Richard F. Burton</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Nell Gwyn</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Caliban on Ariel</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Weary Wedding</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Winds</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Lyke-wake Song</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Reiver's Neck-Verse</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Witch-Mother</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Bride's Tragedy</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Jacobite's Farewell</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Jacobite's Exile</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Tyneside Widow</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Dedication</span></td> + <td class="r"><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2 style="margin-top: 2em;">POEMS AND BALLADS</h2> + +<h4>THIRD SERIES</h4> + + + + +<h4 style="margin-top: 4em;">TO</h4> + +<h3>WILLIAM BELL SCOTT</h3> + +<h4>POET AND PAINTER</h4> + +<h4>I DEDICATE THESE POEMS</h4> + +<h4>IN MEMORY OF MANY YEARS</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> +<h2>MARCH: AN ODE</h2> + +<h3>1887</h3> + + + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">I</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell, and the splendour of winter had passed out of sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ways of the woodlands were fairer and stranger than dreams that fulfil us in sleep with delight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The breath of the mouths of the winds had hardened on tree-tops and branches that glittered and swayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such wonders and glories of blossomlike snow or of frost that outlightens all flowers till it fade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the sea was not lovelier than here was the land, nor the night than the day, nor the day than the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor the winter sublimer with storm than the spring: such mirth had the madness and might in thee made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">March, master of winds, bright minstrel and marshal of storms that enkindle the season they smite.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p><p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">II</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now that the rage of thy rapture is satiate with revel and ravin and spoil of the snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the branches it brightened are broken, and shattered the tree-tops that only thy wrath could lay low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How should not thy lovers rejoice in thee, leader and lord of the year that exults to be born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So strong in thy strength and so glad of thy gladness whose laughter puts winter and sorrow to scorn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast shaken the snows from thy wings, and the frost on thy forehead is molten: thy lips are aglow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a lover's that kindle with kissing, and earth, with her raiment and tresses yet wasted and torn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes breath as she smiles in the grasp of thy passion to feel through her spirit the sense of thee flow.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">III</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fain, fain would we see but again for an hour what the wind and the sun have dispelled and consumed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those full deep swan-soft feathers of snow with whose luminous burden the branches implumed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung heavily, curved as a half-bent bow, and fledged not as birds are, but petalled as flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each tree-top and branchlet a pinnacle jewelled and carved, or a fountain that shines as it showers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But fixed as a fountain is fixed not, and wrought not to last till by time or by tempest entombed,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span><span class="i0">As a pinnacle carven and gilded of men: for the date of its doom is no more than an hour's,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One hour of the sun's when the warm wind wakes him to wither the snow-flowers that froze as they bloomed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">IV</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the sunshine quenches the snowshine; as April subdues thee, and yields up his kingdom to May;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So time overcomes the regret that is born of delight as it passes in passion away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaves but a dream for desire to rejoice in or mourn for with tears or thanksgivings; but thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright god that art gone from us, maddest and gladdest of months, to what goal hast thou gone from us now?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For somewhere surely the storm of thy laughter that lightens, the beat of thy wings that play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must flame as a fire through the world, and the heavens that we know not rejoice in thee: surely thy brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath lost not its radiance of empire, thy spirit the joy that impelled it on quest as for prey.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">V</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Are thy feet on the ways of the limitless waters, thy wings on the winds of the waste north sea?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are the fires of the false north dawn over heavens where summer is stormful and strong like thee<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span><span class="i0">Now bright in the sight of thine eyes? are the bastions of icebergs assailed by the blast of thy breath?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it March with the wild north world when April is waning? the word that the changed year saith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it echoed to northward with rapture of passion reiterate from spirits triumphant as we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose hearts were uplift at the blast of thy clarions as men's rearisen from a sleep that was death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kindled to life that was one with the world's and with thine? hast thou set not the whole world free?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">VI</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the breath of thy lips is freedom, and freedom's the sense of thy spirit, the sound of thy song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad god of the north-east wind, whose heart is as high as the hands of thy kingdom are strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy kingdom whose empire is terror and joy, twin-featured and fruitful of births divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Days lit with the flame of the lamps of the flowers, and nights that are drunken with dew for wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sleep not for joy of the stars that deepen and quicken, a denser and fierier throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the world that thy breath bade whiten and tremble rejoices at heart as they strengthen and shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And earth gives thanks for the glory bequeathed her, and knows of thy reign that it wrought not wrong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p><p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">VII</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy spirit is quenched not, albeit we behold not thy face in the crown of the steep sky's arch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bold first buds of the whin wax golden, and witness arise of the thorn and the larch:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild April, enkindled to laughter and storm by the kiss of the wildest of winds that blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls loud on his brother for witness; his hands that were laden with blossom are sprinkled with snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his lips breathe winter, and laugh, and relent; and the live woods feel not the frost's flame parch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the flame of the spring that consumes not but quickens is felt at the heart of the forest aglow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sparks that enkindled and fed it were strewn from the hands of the gods of the winds of March.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE COMMONWEAL</h2> + +<h3>1887</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eight hundred years and twenty-one<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Have shone and sunken since the land<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose name is freedom bore such brand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As marks a captive, and the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beheld her fettered hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But ere dark time had shed as rain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or sown on sterile earth as seed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That bears no fruit save tare and weed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An age and half an age again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She rose on Runnymede.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out of the shadow, starlike still,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She rose up radiant in her right,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And spake, and put to fear and flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lawless rule of awless will<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That pleads no right save might.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor since hath England ever borne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The burden laid on subject lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rule that curbs and binds all hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save one, and marks for servile scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heads it bows and brands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A commonweal arrayed and crowned<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With gold and purple, girt with steel<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At need, that foes must fear or feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We find her, as our fathers found,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Earth's lordliest commonweal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now that fifty years are flown<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since in a maiden's hand the sign<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of empire that no seas confine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First as a star to seaward shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We see their record shine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A troubled record, foul and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A simple record and serene,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inscribes for praise a blameless queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For praise and blame an age of care<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And change and ends unseen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hope, wide of eye and wild of wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rose with the sundawn of a reign<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose grace should make the rough ways plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fill the worn old world with spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And heal its heart of pain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace was to be on earth; men's hope<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was holier than their fathers had,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their wisdom not more wise than glad:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They saw the gates of promise ope,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And heard what love's lips bade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love armed with knowledge, winged and wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should hush the wind of war, and see,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They said, the sun of days to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring round beneath serener skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A stormless jubilee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Time, in the darkness unbeholden<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hides him from the sight of fear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lets but dreaming hope draw near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiled and was sad to hear such golden<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strains hail the all-golden year.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strange clouds have risen between, and wild<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Red stars of storm that lit the abyss<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wherein fierce fraud and violence kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mock such promise as beguiled<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fiftieth year from this.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">War upon war, change after change,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath shaken thrones and towers to dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hopes austere and faiths august<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have watched in patience stern and strange<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Men's works unjust and just.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As from some Alpine watch-tower's portal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Night, living yet, looks forth for dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So from time's mistier mountain lawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit of man, in trust immortal,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yearns toward a hope withdrawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The morning comes not, yet the night<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wanes, and men's eyes win strength to see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where twilight is, where light shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When conquered wrong and conquering right<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Acclaim a world set free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calm as our mother-land, the mother<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of faith and freedom, pure and wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Keeps watch beneath unchangeful skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When hath she watched the woes of other<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strange lands with alien eyes?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calm as she stands alone, what nation<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath lacked an alms from English hands?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What exiles from what stricken lands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have lacked the shelter of the station<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where higher than all she stands?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though time discrown and change dismantle<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The pride of thrones and towers that frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How should they bring her glories down—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea cast round her like a mantle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sea-cloud like a crown?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sea, divine as heaven and deathless,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is hers, and none but only she<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath learnt the sea's word, none but we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her children hear in heart the breathless<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bright watchword of the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heard not of others, or misheard<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of many a land for many a year,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The watchword Freedom fails not here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hearts that witness if the word<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Find faith in England's ear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She, first to love the light, and daughter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Incarnate of the northern dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She, round whose feet the wild waves fawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all their wrath of warring water<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sounds like a babe's breath drawn,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How should not she best know, love best,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And best of all souls understand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The very soul of freedom, scanned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off, sought out in darkling quest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By men at heart unmanned?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They climb and fall, ensnared, enshrouded,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By mists of words and toils they set<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To take themselves, till fierce regret<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grows mad with shame, and all their clouded<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Red skies hang sunless yet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But us the sun, not wholly risen<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor equal now for all, illumes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With more of light than cloud that looms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of light that leads forth souls from prison<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And breaks the seals of tombs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did not her breasts who reared us rear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Him who took heaven in hand, and weighed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bright world with world in balance laid?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What Newton's might could make not clear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath Darwin's might not made?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The forces of the dark dissolve,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The doorways of the dark are broken:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The word that casts out night is spoken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whence the springs of things evolve<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light born of night bears token.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She, loving light for light's sake only,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And truth for only truth's, and song<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For song's sake and the sea's, how long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath she not borne the world her lonely<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Witness of right and wrong?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From light to light her eyes imperial<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Turn, and require the further light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More perfect than the sun's in sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till star and sun seem all funereal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lamps of the vaulted night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She gazes till the strenuous soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Within the rapture of her eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Creates or bids awake, arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light she looks for, pure and whole<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And worshipped of the wise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such sons are hers, such radiant hands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Have borne abroad her lamp of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such mouths of honey-dropping gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have sent across all seas and lands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her fame as music rolled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As music made of rolling thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hurls through heaven its heart sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its heart of joy, in charging chime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So ring the songs that round and under<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her temple surge and climb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A temple not by men's hands builded,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But moulded of the spirit, and wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of passion and imperious thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With light beyond all sunlight gilded,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whereby the sun seems nought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy shrine, our mother, seen for fairer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than even thy natural face, made fair<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With kisses of thine April air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even now, when spring thy banner-bearer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Took up thy sign to bear;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thine annual sign from heaven's own arch<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Given of the sun's hand into thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To rear and cheer each wildwood shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now laid waste by wild-winged March,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">March, mad with wind like wine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From all thy brightening downs whereon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The windy seaward whin-flower shows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blossom whose pride strikes pale the rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth is the golden watchword gone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whereat the world's face glows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy quickening woods rejoice and ring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till earth seems glorious as the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With yearning love too glad for glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world's heart quivers toward the spring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As all our hearts toward thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thee, mother, thee, our queen, who givest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Assurance to the heavens most high<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And earth whereon her bondsmen sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That by the sea's grace while thou livest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hope shall not wholly die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That while thy free folk hold the van<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of all men, and the sea-spray shed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As dew more heavenly on thy head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keeps bright thy face in sight of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Man's pride shall drop not dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XXXIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A pride more pure than humblest prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More wise than wisdom born of doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Girds for thy sake men's hearts about<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With trust and triumph that despair<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fear may cast not out.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XL<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Despair may wring men's hearts, and fear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bow down their heads to kiss the dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where patriot memories rot and rust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And change makes faint a nation's cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And faith yields up her trust.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not here this year have true men known,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not here this year may true men know,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That brand of shame-compelling woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which bids but brave men shrink or groan<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lays but honour low.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The strong spring wind blows notes of praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hallowing pride of heart, and cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unchanging, toward all true men here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who hold the trust of ancient days<br /></span> +<span class="i1">High as of old this year.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The days that made thee great are dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The days that now must keep thee great<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lie not in keeping of thy fate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thine they lie, whose heart and head<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sustain thy charge of state.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No state so proud, no pride so just,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sun, through clouds at sunrise curled<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or clouds across the sunset whirled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath sight of, nor has man such trust<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As thine in all the world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each hour that sees the sunset's crest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Make bright thy shores ere day decline<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sees dawn the sun on shores of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees west as east and east as west<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On thee their sovereign shine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sea's own heart must needs wax proud<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To have borne the world a child like thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What birth of earth might ever be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy sister? Time, a wandering cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is sunshine on thy sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Change mars not her; and thee, our mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What change that irks or moves thee mars?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What shock that shakes? what chance that jars?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time gave thee, as he gave none other,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A station like a star's.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span><span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The storm that shrieks, the wind that wages<br /></span> +<span class="i1">War with the wings of hopes that climb<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too high toward heaven in doubt sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assail not thee, approved of ages<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The towering crown of time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">XLIX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Toward thee this year thy children turning<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With souls uplift of changeless cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Salute with love that casts out fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hearts for beacons round thee burning,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The token of this year.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6" style="margin-top: 2em;">L<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With just and sacred jubilation<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let earth sound answer to the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For witness, blown on winds as free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How England, how her crowning nation,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Acclaims this jubilee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ARMADA</h2> + +<h3>1588: 1888</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>I</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">England, mother born of seamen, daughter fostered of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother more beloved than all who bear not all their children free,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reared and nursed and crowned and cherished by the sea-wind and the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweetest land and strongest, face most fair and mightiest heart in one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands not higher than when the centuries known of earth were less by three,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the strength that struck the whole world pale fell back from hers undone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At her feet were the heads of her foes bowed down, and the strengths of the storm of them stayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the hearts that were touched not with mercy with terror were touched and amazed and affrayed:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span><span class="i1">Yea, hearts that had never been molten with pity were molten with fear as with flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the priests of the Godhead whose temple is hell, and his heart is of iron and fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the swordsmen that served and the seamen that sped them, whom peril could tame not or tire,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were as foam on the winds of the waters of England which tempest can tire not or tame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They were girded about with thunder, and lightning came forth of the rage of their strength,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the measure that measures the wings of the storm was the breadth of their force and the length:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the name of their might was Invincible, covered and clothed with the terror of God;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his wrath were they winged, with his love were they fired, with the speed of his winds were they shod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his soul were they filled, in his trust were they comforted: grace was upon them as night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faith as the blackness of darkness: the fume of their balefires was fair in his sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reek of them sweet as a savour of myrrh in his nostrils: the world that he made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Theirs was it by gift of his servants: the wind, if they spake in his name, was afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sun was a shadow before it, the stars were astonished with fear of it: fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went up to them, fed with men living, and lit of men's hands for a shrine or a pyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the east and the west wind scattered their ashes abroad, that his name should be blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the tribes of the chosen whose blessings are curses from uttermost east unto west.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span><span class="i12" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>II</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hell for Spain, and heaven for England,—God to God, and man to man,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Met confronted, light with darkness, life with death: since time began,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Never earth nor sea beheld so great a stake before them set,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save when Athens hurled back Asia from the lists wherein they met;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never since the sands of ages through the glass of history ran<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saw the sun in heaven a lordlier day than this that lights us yet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the light that abides upon England, the glory that rests on her godlike name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pride that is love and the love that is faith, a perfume dissolved in flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Took fire from the dawn of the fierce July when fleets were scattered as foam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And squadrons as flakes of spray; when galleon and galliass that shadowed the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were swept from her waves like shadows that pass with the clouds they fell from, and she<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Laughed loud to the wind as it gave to her keeping the glories of Spain and Rome.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span><span class="i3">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three hundred summers have fallen as leaves by the storms in their season thinned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since northward the war-ships of Spain came sheer up the way of the south-west wind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the citadel cliffs of England are flanked with bastions of serpentine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off to the windward loomed their hulls, an hundred and twenty-nine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All filled full of the war, full-fraught with battle and charged with bale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then store-ships weighted with cannon; and all were an hundred and fifty sail.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The measureless menace of darkness anhungered with hope to prevail upon light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shadow of death made substance, the present and visible spirit of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came, shaped as a waxing or waning moon that rose with the fall of day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the channel where couches the Lion in guard of the gate of the lustrous bay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair England, sweet as the sea that shields her, and pure as the sea from stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiled, hearing hardly for scorn that stirred her the menace of saintly Spain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span><span class="i12" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>III</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They that ride over ocean wide with hempen bridle and horse of tree,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How shall they in the darkening day of wrath and anguish and fear go free?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How shall these that have curbed the seas not feel his bridle who made the sea?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God shall bow them and break them now: for what is man in the Lord God's sight?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear shall shake them, and shame shall break, and all the noon of their pride be night:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These that sinned shall the ravening wind of doom bring under, and judgment smite.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">England broke from her neck the yoke, and rent the fetter, and mocked the rod:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrines of old that she decked with gold she turned to dust, to the dust she trod:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is she, that the wind and sea should fight beside her, and war with God?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, the cloud of his ships that crowd her channel's inlet with storm sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darker far than the tempests are that sweep the skies of her northmost clime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huge and dense as the walls that fence the secret darkness of unknown time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span><span class="i0">Mast on mast as a tower goes past, and sail by sail as a cloud's wing spread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fleet by fleet, as the throngs whose feet keep time with death in his dance of dread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Galleons dark as the helmsman's bark of old that ferried to hell the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Squadrons proud as their lords, and loud with tramp of soldiers and chant of priests;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slaves there told by the thousandfold, made fast in bondage as herded beasts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lords and slaves that the sweet free waves shall feed on, satiate with funeral feasts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, not so shall it be, they know; their priests have said it; can priesthood lie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God shall keep them, their God shall sleep not: peril and evil shall pass them by:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, for these are his children; seas and winds shall bid not his children die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So they boast them, the monstrous host whose menace mocks at the dawn: and here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They that wait at the wild sea's gate, and watch the darkness of doom draw near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How shall they in their evil day sustain the strength of their hearts for fear?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full July in the fervent sky sets forth her twentieth of changing morns:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winds fall mild that of late waxed wild: no presage whispers or wails or warns:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far to west on the bland sea's breast a sailing crescent uprears her horns.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span><span class="i0">Seven wide miles the serene sea smiles between them stretching from rim to rim:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft they shine, but a darker sign should bid not hope or belief wax dim:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's are these men, and not the sea's: their trust is set not on her but him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God's? but who is the God whereto the prayers and incense of these men rise?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is he, that the wind and sea should fear him, quelled by his sunbright eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, that men should return again, and hail him Lord of the servile skies?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hell's own flame at his heavenly name leaps higher and laughs, and its gulfs rejoice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plague and death from his baneful breath take life and lighten, and praise his choice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chosen are they to devour for prey the tribes that hear not and fear his voice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, but we that the wind and sea gird round with shelter of storms and waves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know not him that ye worship, grim as dreams that quicken from dead men's graves:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God is one with the sea, the sun, the land that nursed us, the love that saves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love whose heart is in ours, and part of all things noble and all things fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet and free as the circling sea, sublime and kind as the fostering air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure of shame as is England's name, whose crowns to come are as crowns that were.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span><span class="i12" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>IV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the Lord of darkness, the God whose love is a flaming fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The master whose mercy fulfils wide hell till its torturers tire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall surely have heed of his servants who serve him for love, not hire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They shall fetter the wing of the wind whose pinions are plumed with foam:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now shall thy horn be exalted, and now shall thy bolt strike home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, now shall thy kingdom come, Lord God of the priests of Rome.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They shall cast thy curb on the waters, and bridle the waves of the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shall say to her, Peace, be still: and stillness and peace shall be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the winds and the storms shall hear them, and tremble, and worship thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy breath shall darken the morning, and wither the mounting sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the daysprings, frozen and fettered, shall know thee, and cease to run;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart of the world shall feel thee, and die, and thy will be done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span><span class="i0">The spirit of man that would sound thee, and search out causes of things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall shrink and subside and praise thee: and wisdom, with plume-plucked wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall cower at thy feet and confess thee, that none may fathom thy springs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fountains of song that await but the wind of an April to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To burst the bonds of the winter, and speak with the sound of a sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blast of thy mouth shall quench them: and song shall be only of thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The days that are dead shall quicken, the seasons that were shall return;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the streets and the pastures of England, the woods that burgeon and yearn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall be whitened with ashes of women and children and men that burn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the mother shall burn with the babe sprung forth of her womb in fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bride with bridegroom, and brother with sister, and son with sire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the noise of the flames shall be sweet in thine ears as the sound of a lyre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, so shall thy kingdom be stablished, and so shall the signs of it be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the world shall know, and the wind shall speak, and the sun shall see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That these are the works of thy servants, whose works bear witness to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span><span class="i3">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the dusk of the day falls fruitless, whose light should have lit them on:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sails flash through the gloom to shoreward, eclipsed as the sun that shone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the west wind wakes with dawn, and the hope that was here is gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around they wheel and around, two knots to the Spaniard's one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind-swift warriors of England, who shoot as with shafts of the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fourfold shots for the Spaniard's, that spare not till day be done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the wind with the sundown sharpens, and hurtles the ships to the lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Spaniard on Spaniard smites, and shatters, and yields; and we,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere battle begin, stand lords of the battle, acclaimed of the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the day sweeps round to the nightward; and heavy and hard the waves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roll in on the herd of the hurtling galleons; and masters and slaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reel blind in the grasp of the dark strong wind that shall dig their graves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the sepulchres hollowed and shaped of the wind in the swerve of the seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The graves that gape for their pasture, and laugh, thrilled through by the breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet soft merciless waters, await and are fain of these.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span><span class="i0">As the hiss of a Python heaving in menace of doom to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hear through the clear night round them, whose hours are as clouds that flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whisper of tempest sleeping, the heave and the hiss of the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But faith is theirs, and with faith are they girded and helmed and shod:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invincible are they, almighty, elect for a sword and a rod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invincible even as their God is omnipotent, infinite, God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In him is their strength, who have sworn that his glory shall wax not dim:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his name are their war-ships hallowed as mightiest of all that swim:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The men that shall cope with these, and conquer, shall cast out him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In him is the trust of their hearts; the desire of their eyes is he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light of their ways, made lightning for men that would fain be free:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's hosts are with them, and with them is heaven: but with us is the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span><span class="i12" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>V</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And a day and a night pass over;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And the heart of their chief swells high;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For England, the warrior, the rover,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Whose banners on all winds fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soul-stricken, he saith, by the shadow of death, holds off him, and draws not nigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And the wind and the dawn together<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Make in from the gleaming east:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fain of the wild glad weather<br /></span> +<span class="i3">As famine is fain of feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fain of the fight, forth sweeps in its might the host of the Lord's high priest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And lightly before the breeze<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The ships of his foes take wing:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are they scattered, the lords of the seas?<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Are they broken, the foes of the king?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever now higher as a mounting fire the hopes of the Spaniard spring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And a windless night comes down:<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And a breezeless morning, bright<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With promise of praise to crown<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The close of the crowning fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaps up as the foe's heart leaps, and glows with lustrous rapture of light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span><span class="i2">And stinted of gear for battle<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The ships of the sea's folk lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unwarlike, herded as cattle,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Six miles from the foeman's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fastens as flame on the sight of them tame and offenceless, and ranged as to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Surely the souls in them quail,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">They are stricken and withered at heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When in on them, sail by sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Fierce marvels of monstrous art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tower darkening on tower till the sea-winds cower crowds down as to hurl them apart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And the windless weather is kindly,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And comforts the host in these;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And their hearts are uplift in them blindly,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And blindly they boast at ease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the next day's fight shall exalt them, and smite with destruction the lords of the seas.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And lightly the proud hearts prattle,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And lightly the dawn draws nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dawn of the doom of the battle<br /></span> +<span class="i3">When these shall falter and fly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No day more great in the roll of fate filled ever with fire the sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">To fightward they go as to feastward,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And the tempest of ships that drive<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sets eastward ever and eastward,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Till closer they strain and strive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the shots that rain on the hulls of Spain are as thunders afire and alive.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span><span class="i2">And about them the blithe sea smiles<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And flashes to windward and lee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round capes and headlands and isles<br /></span> +<span class="i3">That heed not if war there be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round Sark, round Wight, green jewels of light in the ring of the golden sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">But the men that within them abide<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Are stout of spirit and stark<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As rocks that repel the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">As day that repels the dark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the light bequeathed from their swords unsheathed shines lineal on Wight and on Sark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And eastward the storm sets ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The storm of the sails that strain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And follow and close and sever<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And lose and return and gain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And English thunder divides in sunder the holds of the ships of Spain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Southward to Calais, appalled<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And astonished, the vast fleet veers;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the skies are shrouded and palled,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">But the moonless midnight hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sees how swift on them drive and drift strange flames that the darkness fears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">They fly through the night from shoreward,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Heart-stricken till morning break,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ever to scourge them forward<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Drives down on them England's Drake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hurls them in as they hurtle and spin and stagger, with storm to wake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span><span class="i12" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>VI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And now is their time come on them. For eastward they drift and reel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the shallows of Flanders ahead, with destruction and havoc at heel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With God for their comfort only, the God whom they serve; and here<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their Lord, of his great loving-kindness, may revel and make good cheer;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though ever his lips wax thirstier with drinking, and hotter the lusts in him swell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he feeds the thirst that consumes him with blood, and his winepress fumes with the reek of hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Fierce noon beats hard on the battle; the galleons that loom to the lee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bow down, heel over, uplifting their shelterless hulls from the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From scuppers aspirt with blood, from guns dismounted and dumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The signs of the doom they looked for, the loud mute witnesses come.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They press with sunset to seaward for comfort: and shall not they find it there?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O servants of God most high, shall his winds not pass you by, and his waves not spare?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span><span class="i6">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wings of the south-west wind are widened; the breath of his fervent lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More keen than a sword's edge, fiercer than fire, falls full on the plunging ships.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pilot is he of their northward flight, their stay and their steersman he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A helmsman clothed with the tempest, and girdled with strength to constrain the sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the host of them trembles and quails, caught fast in his hand as a bird in the toils;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the wrath and the joy that fulfil him are mightier than man's, whom he slays and spoils.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vainly, with heart divided in sunder, and labour of wavering will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lord of their host takes counsel with hope if haply their star shine still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If haply some light be left them of chance to renew and redeem the fray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the will of the black south-wester is lord of the councils of war to-day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One only spirit it quells not, a splendour undarkened of chance or time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be the praise of his foes with Oquendo for ever, a name as a star sublime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But here what aid in a hero's heart, what help in his hand may be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever the dark wind whitens and blackens the hollows and heights of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And galley by galley, divided and desolate, founders; and none takes heed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor foe nor friend, if they perish; forlorn, cast off in their uttermost need,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span><span class="i0">They sink in the whelm of the waters, as pebbles by children from shoreward hurled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the North Sea's waters that end not, nor know they a bourn but the bourn of the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past many a secure unavailable harbour, and many a loud stream's mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past Humber and Tees and Tyne and Tweed, they fly, scourged on from the south,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And torn by the scourge of the storm-wind that smites as a harper smites on a lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And consumed of the storm as the sacrifice loved of their God is consumed with fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And devoured of the darkness as men that are slain in the fires of his love are devoured,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deflowered of their lives by the storms, as by priests is the spirit of life deflowered.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the wind, of its godlike mercy, relents not, and hounds them ahead to the north,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With English hunters at heel, till now is the herd of them past the Forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All huddled and hurtled seaward; and now need none wage war upon these,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor huntsmen follow the quarry whose fall is the pastime sought of the seas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day upon day upon day confounds them, with measureless mists that swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With drift of rains everlasting and dense as the fumes of ascending hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The visions of priest and of prophet beholding his enemies bruised of his rod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beheld but the likeness of this that is fallen on the faithful, the friends of God.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span><span class="i0">Northward, and northward, and northward they stagger and shudder and swerve and flit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dismantled of masts and of yards, with sails by the fangs of the storm-wind split.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But north of the headland whose name is Wrath, by the wrath or the ruth of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are swept or sustained to the westward, and drive through the rollers aloof to the lee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some strive yet northward for Iceland, and perish: but some through the storm-hewn straits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sunder the Shetlands and Orkneys are borne of the breath which is God's or fate's:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some, by the dawn of September, at last give thanks as for stars that smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the winds have swept them to shelter and sight of the cliffs of a Catholic isle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though many the fierce rocks feed on, and many the merciless heretic slays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet some that have laboured to land with their treasure are trustful, and give God praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the kernes of murderous Ireland, athirst with a greed everlasting of blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unslakable ever with slaughter and spoil, rage down as a ravening flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To slay and to flay of their shining apparel their brethren whom shipwreck spares;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such faith and such mercy, such love and such manhood, such hands and such hearts are theirs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Short shrift to her foes gives England, but shorter doth Ireland to friends; and worse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fare they that came with a blessing on treason than they that come with a curse.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span><span class="i0">Hacked, harried, and mangled of axes and skenes, three thousand naked and dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear witness of Catholic Ireland, what sons of what sires at her breasts are bred.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winds are pitiful, waves are merciful, tempest and storm are kind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waters that smite may spare, and the thunder is deaf, and the lightning is blind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of these perchance at his need may a man, though they know it not, yet find grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But grace, if another be hardened against him, he gets not at this man's face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his ear that hears and his eye that sees the wreck and the wail of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his heart that relents not within him, but hungers, are like as the wolf's in his den.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worthy are these to worship their master, the murderous Lord of lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who hath given to the pontiff his servant the keys of the pit and the keys of the skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild famine and red-shod rapine are cruel, and bitter with blood are their feasts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But fiercer than famine and redder than rapine the hands and the hearts of priests.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God, God bade these to the battle; and here, on a land by his servants trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They perish, a lordly blood-offering, subdued by the hands of the servants of God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These also were fed of his priests with faith, with the milk of his word and the wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These too are fulfilled with the spirit of darkness that guided their quest divine.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span><span class="i0">And here, cast up from the ravening sea on the mild land's merciful breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This comfort they find of their fellows in worship; this guerdon is theirs of their quest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death was captain, and doom was pilot, and darkness the chart of their way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night and hell had in charge and in keeping the host of the foes of day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invincible, vanquished, impregnable, shattered, a sign to her foes of fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sign to the world and the stars of laughter, the fleet of the Lord lies here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, for none may declare the place of the ruin wherein she lies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, for none hath beholden the grave whence never a ghost shall rise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fleet of the foemen of England hath found not one but a thousand graves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he that shall number and name them shall number by name and by tale the waves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i12" style="margin-top: 2em;"><b>VII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sixtus, Pope of the Church whose hope takes flight for heaven to dethrone the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Philip, king that wouldst turn our spring to winter, blasted, appalled, undone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince and priest, let a mourner's feast give thanks to God for your conquest won.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span><span class="i0">England's heel is upon you: kneel, O priest, O prince, in the dust, and cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lord, why thus? art thou wroth with us whose faith was great in thee, God most high?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence is this, that the serpent's hiss derides us? Lord, can thy pledged word lie?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"God of hell, are its flames that swell quenched now for ever, extinct and dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who shall fear thee? or who shall hear the word thy servants who feared thee said?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, art thou as the dead gods now, whose arm is shortened, whose rede is read?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet we thought it was not for nought thy word was given us, to guard and guide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet we deemed that they had not dreamed who put their trust in thee. Hast thou lied?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God our Lord, was the sacred sword we drew not drawn on thy Church's side?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"England hates thee as hell's own gates; and England triumphs, and Rome bows down:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">England mocks at thee; England's rocks cast off thy servants to drive and drown:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">England loathes thee; and fame betroths and plights with England her faith for crown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Spain clings fast to thee; Spain, aghast with anguish, cries to thee; where art thou?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spain puts trust in thee; lo, the dust that soils and darkens her prostrate brow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spain is true to thy service; who shall raise up Spain for thy service now?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span><span class="i0">"Who shall praise thee, if none may raise thy servants up, nor affright thy foes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter wanes, and the woods and plains forget the likeness of storms and snows:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shall fear of thee fade even here: and what shall follow thee no man knows."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lords of night, who would breathe your blight on April's morning and August's noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God your Lord, the condemned, the abhorred, sinks hellward, smitten with deathlike swoon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's own dart in his hateful heart now thrills, and night shall receive him soon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God the Devil, thy reign of revel is here for ever eclipsed and fled:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God the Liar, everlasting fire lays hold at last on thee, hand and head:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God the Accurst, the consuming thirst that burns thee never shall here be fed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">England, queen of the waves whose green inviolate girdle enrings thee round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother fair as the morning, where is now the place of thy foemen found?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the sea that salutes us free proclaims them stricken, acclaims thee crowned.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Times may change, and the skies grow strange with signs of treason and fraud and fear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foes in union of strange communion may rise against thee from far and near:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sloth and greed on thy strength may feed as cankers waxing from year to year.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span><span class="i0">Yet, though treason and fierce unreason should league and lie and defame and smite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We that know thee, how far below thee the hatred burns of the sons of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We that love thee, behold above thee the witness written of life in light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life that shines from thee shows forth signs that none may read not but eyeless foes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hate, born blind, in his abject mind grows hopeful now but as madness grows:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, born wise, with exultant eyes adores thy glory, beholds and glows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Truth is in thee, and none may win thee to lie, forsaking the face of truth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freedom lives by the grace she gives thee, born again from thy deathless youth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith should fail, and the world turn pale, wert thou the prey of the serpent's tooth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Greed and fraud, unabashed, unawed, may strive to sting thee at heel in vain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Craft and fear and mistrust may leer and mourn and murmur and plead and plain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art thou: and thy sunbright brow is hers that blasted the strength of Spain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mother, mother beloved, none other could claim in place of thee England's place:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth bears none that beholds the sun so pure of record, so clothed with grace:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear our mother, nor son nor brother is thine, as strong or as fair of face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span><span class="i0">How shalt thou be abased? or how shall fear take hold of thy heart? of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">England, maiden immortal, laden with charge of life and with hopes divine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth shall wither, when eyes turned hither behold not light in her darkness shine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">England, none that is born thy son, and lives, by grace of thy glory, free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives and yearns not at heart and burns with hope to serve as he worships thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None may sing thee: the sea-wind's wing beats down our songs as it hails the sea.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> +<h2>TO A SEAMEW</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When I had wings, my brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such wings were mine as thine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such life my heart remembers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all as wild Septembers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As this when life seems other,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though sweet, than once was mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I had wings, my brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such wings were mine as thine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such life as thrills and quickens<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The silence of thy flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fills thy note's elation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lordlier exultation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than man's, whose faint heart sickens<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With hopes and fears that blight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such life as thrills and quickens<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The silence of thy flight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy cry from windward clanging<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Makes all the cliffs rejoice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though storm clothe seas with sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy call salutes the morrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While shades of pain seem hanging<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round earth's most rapturous voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy cry from windward clanging<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Makes all the cliffs rejoice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span><span class="i0">We, sons and sires of seamen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose home is all the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What place man may, we claim it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thine—whose thought may name it?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free birds live higher than freemen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And gladlier ye than we—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We, sons and sires of seamen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose home is all the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For you the storm sounds only<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More notes of more delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than earth's in sunniest weather:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When heaven and sea together<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Join strengths against the lonely<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lost bark borne down by night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you the storm sounds only<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More notes of more delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With wider wing, and louder<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long clarion-call of joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy tribe salutes the terror<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of darkness, wild as error,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sure as truth, and prouder<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than waves with man for toy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wider wing, and louder<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long clarion-call of joy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wave's wing spreads and flutters,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wave's heart swells and breaks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One moment's passion thrills it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One pulse of power fulfils it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ends the pride it utters<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When, loud with life that quakes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wave's wing spreads and flutters,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wave's heart swells and breaks.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span><span class="i0">But thine and thou, my brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Keep heart and wing more high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than aught may scare or sunder;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waves whose throats are thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fall hurtling each on other,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And triumph as they die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thine and thou, my brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Keep heart and wing more high.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">More high than wrath or anguish,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More strong than pride or fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sense or soul half hidden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thee, for us forbidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bids thee nor change nor languish,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But live thy life as here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More high than wrath or anguish,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More strong than pride or fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We are fallen, even we, whose passion<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On earth is nearest thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sing, and cease from flying;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who live, and dream of dying:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grey time, in time's grey fashion,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bids wingless creatures pine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are fallen, even we, whose passion<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On earth is nearest thine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lark knows no such rapture,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such joy no nightingale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sways the songless measure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein thy wings take pleasure:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy love may no man capture,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy pride may no man quail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lark knows no such rapture,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such joy no nightingale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span><span class="i0">And we, whom dreams embolden,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We can but creep and sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watch through heaven's waste hollow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flight no sight may follow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the utter bourne beholden<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of none that lack thy wing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we, whom dreams embolden,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We can but creep and sing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our dreams have wings that falter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our hearts bear hopes that die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee no dream could better<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A life no fears may fetter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pride no care can alter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That wots not whence or why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our dreams have wings that falter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our hearts bear hopes that die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With joy more fierce and sweeter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than joys we deem divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their lives, by time untarnished,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are girt about and garnished,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who match the wave's full metre<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And drink the wind's wild wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With joy more fierce and sweeter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than joys we deem divine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, well were I for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wouldst thou change lives with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take my song's wild honey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give me back thy sunny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide eyes that weary never,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wings that search the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, well were I for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wouldst thou change lives with me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Beachy Head: September 1886.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> +<h2>PAN AND THALASSIUS</h2> + +<h3>A LYRICAL IDYL</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">THALASSIUS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Pan!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">PAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O sea-stray, seed of Apollo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What word wouldst thou have with me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My ways thou wast fain to follow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or ever the years hailed thee<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If August brood on the valleys,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If satyrs laugh on the lawns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What part in the wildwood alleys<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hast thou with the fleet-foot fauns—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thou?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">See!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy feet are a man's—not cloven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like these, not light as a boy's:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tresses and tendrils inwoven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That lure us, the lure of them cloys<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span><span class="i4">Us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy of the wild woods never<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leaves free of the thirst it slakes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild love throbs in us ever<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That burns in the dense hot brakes<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thus.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternal, passionate, awless,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Insatiable, mutable, dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes all men's law for us lawless:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We strive not: how should we fear<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Strife?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">We,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The birds and the bright winds know not<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such joys as are ours in the mild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm woodland; joys such as grow not<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In waste green fields of the wild<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">No;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long since, in the world's wind veering,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy heart was estranged from me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet Echo shall yield thee not hearing:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What have we to do with thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">THALASSIUS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Ay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such wrath on thy nostril quivers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As once in Sicilian heat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bade herdsmen quail, and the rivers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shrank, leaving a path for thy feet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dry?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span><span class="i4">Nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low down in the hot soft hollow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too snakelike hisses thy spleen:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O sea-stray, seed of Apollo!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What ill hast thou heard or seen?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knows well, if he hears beside him<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The snarl of thy wrath at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What evil may soon betide him,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or late, if thou smite not soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sound of thy flute, that flatters<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The woods as they smile and sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charmed fast as it charms thy satyrs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can charm no faster than I<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy music may charm the splendid<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wide woodland silence to sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sounds and dreams of thee blended<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And whispers of waters that creep<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Past.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell of thee breathes and passes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And bids the heart in me pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hushed soft as the leaves and the grasses<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are hushed if the storm's foot draws<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span><span class="i4">Yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The panic that strikes down strangers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Transgressing thy ways unaware<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Affrights not me nor endangers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through dread of thy secret snare<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Set.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">PAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Whence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May man find heart to deride me?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who made his face as a star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shine as a God's beside me?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nay, get thee away from us, far<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hence.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">THALASSIUS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall no man's heart, as he raises<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A hymn to thy secret head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wax great with the godhead he praises:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou, God, shalt be like unto dead<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">PAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I take not of men's thanksgiving,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I crave not of lips that live;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They die, and behold, I am living,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While they and their dead Gods give<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span><span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">THALASSIUS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Yea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too lightly the words were spoken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That mourned or mocked at thee dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But whose was the word, the token,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The song that answered and said<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nay?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">PAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Whose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But mine, in the midnight hidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clothed round with the strength of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mysteries of things forbidden<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For all but the one most bright<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Muse?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">THALASSIUS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Hers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or thine, O Pan, was the token<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That gave back empire to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When power in thy hands lay broken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As reeds that quake if a bee<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Stirs?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">PAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I in my wide woods need of?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Urania's limitless eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold not mine end, though they read of<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A word that shall speak to the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Doom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span><span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">THALASSIUS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">She<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave back to thee kingdom and glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And grace that was thine of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life to thy leaves, late hoary<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As weeds cast up from the hoar<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can bid faith shine as the morning<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though light in the world be none:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death shrinks if her tongue sound warning,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Night quails, and beholds the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Strong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">PAN<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bare rule over men for ages<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose worship wist not of me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gat but sorrows for wages,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hardly for tears could see<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more on the starry presence<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose light through the long dark swam:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hold fast to the green world's pleasance:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For I that am lord of it am<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span><span class="i3" style="margin-top: 2em; font-size: 110%;">THALASSIUS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God Pan, from the glad wood's portal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The breaths of thy song blow sweet:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But woods may be walked in of mortal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Man's thought, where never thy feet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Trod.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Thine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All secrets of growth and of birth are,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All glories of flower and of tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wheresoever the wonders of earth are;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The words of the spell of the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> +<h2>A BALLAD OF BATH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like a queen enchanted who may not laugh or weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glad at heart and guarded from change and care like ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Girt about with beauty by days and nights that creep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft as breathless ripples that softly shoreward sweep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lies the lovely city whose grace no grief deflowers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age and grey forgetfulness, time that shifts and veers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch not thee, our fairest, whose charm no rival nears,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hailed as England's Florence of one whose praise gives grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Landor, once thy lover, a name that love reveres:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dawn whereof we know not, and noon whose fruit we reap,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Garnered up in record of years that fell like flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunset liker sunrise along the shining steep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence thy fair face lightens, and where thy soft springs leap,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crown at once and gird thee with grace of guardian powers<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span><span class="i0">Loved of men beloved of us, souls that fame inspheres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All thine air hath music for him who dreams and hears;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Voices mixed of multitudes, feet of friends that pace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Witness why for ever, if heaven's face clouds or clears,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace hath here found harbourage mild as very sleep:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not the hills and waters, the fields and wildwood bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile or speak more tenderly, clothed with peace more deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here than memory whispers of days our memories keep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fast with love and laughter and dreams of withered hours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright were these as blossom of old, and thought endears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the fair soft phantoms that pass with smiles or tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet as roseleaves hoarded and dried wherein we trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the soul and spirit of sense that lives and cheers:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">City lulled asleep by the chime of passing years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeter smiles thy rest than the radiance round thy peers;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Only love and lovely remembrance here have place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time on thee lies lighter than music on men's ears;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN A GARDEN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Baby, see the flowers!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">—Baby sees<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fairer things than these,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairer though they be than dreams of ours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Baby, hear the birds!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">—Baby knows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Better songs than those,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeter though they sound than sweetest words.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Baby, see the moon!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">—Baby's eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Laugh to watch it rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answering light with love and night with noon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Baby, hear the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">—Baby's face<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Takes a graver grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touched with wonder what the sound may be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Baby, see the star!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">—Baby's hand<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Opens, warm and bland,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm in claim of all things fair that are.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span><span class="i3">Baby, hear the bells!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">—Baby's head<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bows, as ripe for bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the flowers curl round and close their cells.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Baby, flower of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Sleep, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Brighter dreams than we,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till good day shall smile away good night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> +<h2>A RHYME</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Babe, if rhyme be none<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For that sweet small word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Babe, the sweetest one<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ever heard,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Right it is and meet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rhyme should keep not true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time with such a sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thing as you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meet it is that rhyme<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should not gain such grace:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is April's prime<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To your face?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What to yours is May's<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rosiest smile? what sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like your laughter sways<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All hearts round?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">None can tell in metre<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fit for ears on earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sweet star grew sweeter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At your birth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span><span class="i0">Wisdom doubts what may be:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hope, with smile sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trusts: but neither, baby,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knows the rhyme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wisdom lies down lonely;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hope keeps watch from far;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None but one seer only<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sees the star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love alone, with yearning<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heart for astrolabe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes the star's height, burning<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the babe.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> +<h2>BABY-BIRD</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Baby-bird, baby-bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne'er a song on earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May be heard, may be heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rich as yours in mirth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All your flickering fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All your twinkling toes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Play like light that lingers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till the clear song close.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Baby-bird, baby-bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your grave majestic eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a bird's warbled words<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Speak, and sorrow dies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sorrow dies for love's sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love grows one with mirth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even for one white dove's sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Born a babe on earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Baby-bird, baby-bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chirping loud and long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Other birds hush their words,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hearkening toward your song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span><span class="i0">Sweet as spring though it ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Full of love's own lures,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weak and wrong sounds their song,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Singing after yours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Baby-bird, baby-bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The happy heart that hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems to win back within<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heaven, and cast out fears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Earth and sun seem as one<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet light and one sweet word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Known of none here but one,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Known of one sweet bird.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> +<h2>OLIVE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Who may praise her?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes where midnight shames the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hair of night and sunshine spun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woven of dawn's or twilight's loom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Radiant darkness, lustrous gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Godlike childhood's flowerlike bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None may praise aright, nor sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half the grace wherewith like spring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love arrays her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Love untold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sings in silence, speaks in light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shed from each fair feature, bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still from heaven, whence toward us, now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nine years since, she deigned to bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the brightness of her brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deigned to pass through mortal birth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reverence calls her, here on earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nine years old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span><span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Love's deep duty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even when love transfigured grows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worship, all too surely knows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How, though love may cast out fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the debt divine and dear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Due to childhood's godhead here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May by love of man be paid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never; never song be made<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Worth its beauty.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Nought is all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sung or said or dreamed or thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever, set beside it; nought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the love that man may give—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love whose prayer should be, "Forgive!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven, we see, on earth may live;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth can thank not heaven, we know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save with songs that ebb and flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rise and fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">No man living,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No man dead, save haply one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now gone homeward past the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever found such grace as might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tune his tongue to praise aright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Children, flowers of love and light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom our praise dispraises: we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing, in sooth, but not as he<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sang thanksgiving.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span><span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Hope that smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeing her new-born beauty, made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of heaven's own light and shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiled not half so sweetly: love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeing the sun, afar above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm the nest that rears the dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees, more bright than moon or sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the heaven of heavens in one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Who may sing her?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wings of angels when they stir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make no music worthy her:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeter sound her shy soft words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here than songs of God's own birds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom the fire of rapture girds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round with light from love's face lit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hands of angels find no fit<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gifts to bring her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Babes at birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wear as raiment round them cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep as witness toward their past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tokens left of heaven; and each,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere its lips learn mortal speech,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere sweet heaven pass on pass reach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bears in undiverted eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proof of unforgotten skies<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here on earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span><span class="i4" style="margin-top: 2em;">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Quenched as embers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quenched with flakes of rain or snow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the last faint flame burns low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All those lustrous memories lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead with babyhood gone by:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet in her they dare not die:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Others, fair as heaven is, yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now they share not heaven, forget:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She remembers.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> +<h2>A WORD WITH THE WIND</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord of days and nights that hear thy word of wintry warning,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wind, whose feet are set on ways that none may tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Change the nest wherein thy wings are fledged for flight by morning,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Change the harbour whence at dawn thy sails are spread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not the dawn, ere yet the imprisoning night has half released her,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More desires the sun's full face of cheer, than we,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well as yet we love the strength of the iron-tongued north-easter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yearn for wind to meet us as we front the sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All thy ways are good, O wind, and all the world should fester,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were thy fourfold godhead quenched, or stilled thy strife:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the waves and we desire too long the deep south-wester,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whence the waters quicken shoreward, clothed with life.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span><span class="i0">Yet the field not made for ploughing save of keels nor harrowing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save of storm-winds lies unbrightened by thy breath:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Banded broad with ruddy samphire glow the sea-banks narrowing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Westward, while the sea gleams chill and still as death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sharp and strange from inland sounds thy bitter note of battle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blown between grim skies and waters sullen-souled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the baffled seas bear back, rocks roar and shingles rattle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vexed and angered and anhungered and acold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Change thy note, and give the waves their will, and all the measure,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Full and perfect, of the music of their might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let it fill the bays with thunderous notes and throbs of pleasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shake the shores with passion, sound at once and smite.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet are even the mild low notes of wind and sea, but sweeter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sounds the song whose choral wrath of raging rhyme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bids the shelving shoals keep tune with storm's imperious metre,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bids the rocks and reefs respond in rapturous chime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet the lisp and lulling whisper and luxurious laughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soft as love or sleep, of waves whereon the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams, and dreams not of the darkling hours before nor after,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Winged with cloud whose wrath shall bid love's day be done.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span><span class="i0">Yet shall darkness bring the awakening sea a lordlier lover,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clothed with strength more amorous and more strenuous will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence her heart of hearts shall kindle and her soul recover<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sense of love too keen to lie for love's sake still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let thy strong south-western music sound, and bid the billows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brighten, proud and glad to feel thy scourge and kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sting and soothe and sway them, bowed as aspens bend or willows,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet resurgent still in breathless rage of bliss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All to-day the slow sleek ripples hardly bear up shoreward,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Charged with sighs more light than laughter, faint and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a woodland lake's weak wavelets lightly lingering forward,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soft and listless as the slumber-stricken air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be the sunshine bared or veiled, the sky superb or shrouded,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still the waters, lax and languid, chafed and foiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keen and thwarted, pale and patient, clothed with fire or clouded,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vex their heart in vain, or sleep like serpents coiled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee they look for, blind and baffled, wan with wrath and weary,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blown for ever back by winds that rock the bird:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winds that seamews breast subdue the sea, and bid the dreary<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Waves be weak as hearts made sick with hope deferred.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span><span class="i0">Let thy clarion sound from westward, let the south bear token<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How the glories of thy godhead sound and shine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bid the land rejoice to see the land-wind's broad wings broken,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bid the sea take comfort, bid the world be thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half the world abhors thee beating back the sea, and blackening<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heaven with fierce and woful change of fluctuant form:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the world acclaims thee shifting sail again, and slackening<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cloud by cloud the close-reefed cordage of the storm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeter fields and brighter woods and lordlier hills than waken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here at sunrise never hailed the sun and thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn thee then, and give them comfort, shed like rain and shaken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Far as foam that laughs and leaps along the sea.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> +<h2>NEAP-TIDE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far off is the sea, and the land is afar:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The low banks reach at the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seen hence, and are heavenward high;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though light for the leap of a boy they are,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the far sea late was nigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fair wild fields and the circling downs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bright sweet marshes and meads<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All glorious with flowerlike weeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great grey churches, the sea-washed towns,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Recede as a dream recedes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world draws back, and the world's light wanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As a dream dies down and is dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the clouds and the gleams overhead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Change, and change; and the sea remains,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A shadow of dreamlike dread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wild, and woful, and pale, and grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A shadow of sleepless fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A corpse with the night for bier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest thing that beholds the day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lies haggard and hopeless here.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span><span class="i0">And the wind's wings, broken and spent, subside;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the dumb waste world is hoar,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And strange as the sea the shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shadows of shapeless dreams abide<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where life may abide no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A sail to seaward, a sound from shoreward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the spell were broken that seems<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To reign in a world of dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where vainly the dreamer's feet make forward<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And vainly the low sky gleams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sea-forsaken forlorn deep-wrinkled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Salt slanting stretches of sand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That slope to the seaward hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were they fain of the ripples that flashed and twinkled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laughed as they struck the strand?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As bells on the reins of the fairies ring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ripples that kissed them rang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The light from the sundawn sprang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sweetest of songs that the world may sing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was theirs when the full sea sang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now no light is in heaven; and now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not a note of the sea-wind's tune<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rings hither: the bleak sky's boon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grants hardly sight of a grey sun's brow—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A sun more sad than the moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">More sad than a moon that clouds beleaguer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And storm is a scourge to smite,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sick sun's shadowlike light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grows faint as the clouds and the waves wax eager,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And withers away from sight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span><span class="i0">The day's heart cowers, and the night's heart quickens:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full fain would the day be dead<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the stark night reign in his stead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea falls dumb as the sea-fog thickens<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the sunset dies for dread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Outside of the range of time, whose breath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is keen as the manslayer's knife<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his peace but a truce for strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knows if haply the shadow of death<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May be not the light of life?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the storm and the rain and the darkness borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But an hour from the suns to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But a strange swift passage, that we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May rejoice, who have mourned not to-day, to-morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the sun and the wind and the sea.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> +<h2>BY THE WAYSIDE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Summer's face was rosiest, skies and woods were mellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth had heaven to friend, and heaven had earth to fellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When we met where wooded hills and meadows meet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Autumn's face is pale, and all her late leaves yellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now that here again we greet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wan with years whereof this eightieth nears December,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fair and bright with love, the kind old face I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines above the sweet small twain whose eyes remember<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven, and fill with April's light this pale November,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though the dark year's glass run low.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like a rose whose joy of life her silence utters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the birds are loud, and low the lulled wind mutters,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grave and silent shines the boy nigh three years old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise and sweet his smile, that falters not nor flutters,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glows, and turns the gloom to gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span><span class="i0">Like the new-born sun's that strikes the dark and slays it,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So that even for love of light it smiles and dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughs the boy's blithe face whose fair fourth year arrays it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All with light of life and mirth that stirs and sways it<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fulfils the deep wide eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wide and warm with glowing laughter's exultation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full of welcome, full of sunbright jubilation,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash my taller friend's quick eyebeams, charged with glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with softer still and sweeter salutation<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shine my smaller friend's on me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little arms flung round my bending neck, that yoke it<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fast in tender bondage, draw my face down too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toward the flower-soft face whose dumb deep smiles invoke it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dumb, but love can read the radiant eyes that woke it,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blue as June's mid heaven is blue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How may men find refuge, how should hearts be shielded,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the weapons thus by little children wielded,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When they lift such eyes as light this lustrous face—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes that woke love sleeping unawares, and yielded<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love for love, a gift of grace,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grace beyond man's merit, love that laughs, forgiving<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Even the sin of being no more a child, nor worth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust and love that lavish gifts above man's giving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch or glance of eyes and lips the sweetest living,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fair as heaven and kind as earth?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> +<h2>NIGHT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8" style="margin-top: 2em;">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FROM THE ITALIAN OF GIOVANNI STROZZI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Night, whom in shape so sweet thou here may'st see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sleeping, was by an Angel sculptured thus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In marble, and since she sleeps hath life like us:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou doubt'st? Awake her: she will speak to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i8" style="margin-top: 2em;">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FROM THE ITALIAN OF MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sleep likes me well, and better yet to know<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I am but stone. While shame and grief must be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Good hap is mine, to feel not, nor to see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take heed, then, lest thou wake me: ah, speak low.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN TIME OF MOURNING</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Return," we dare not as we fain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Would cry from hearts that yearn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love dares not bid our dead again<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O hearts that strain and burn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fires fast fettered burn and strain!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bow down, lie still, and learn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The heart that healed all hearts of pain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No funeral rites inurn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its echoes, while the stars remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>May 1885.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE INTERPRETERS</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i7" style="margin-top: 2em;">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Days dawn on us that make amends for many<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Sometimes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When heaven and earth seem sweeter even than any<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Man's rhymes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Light had not all been quenched in France, or quelled<br /></span> +<span class="i3">In Greece,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had Homer sung not, or had Hugo held<br /></span> +<span class="i3">His peace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had Sappho's self not left her word thus long<br /></span> +<span class="i3">For token,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea round Lesbos yet in waves of song<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Had spoken.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i7" style="margin-top: 2em;">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet these days of subtler air and finer<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lovelier looks the darkness, and diviner<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The light—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span><span class="i0">The gift they give of all these golden hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Whose urn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pours forth reverberate rays or shadowing showers<br /></span> +<span class="i3">In turn—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clouds, beams, and winds that make the live day's track<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Seem living—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What were they did no spirit give them back<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Thanksgiving?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i7" style="margin-top: 2em;">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dead air, dead fire, dead shapes and shadows, telling<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Time nought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man gives them sense and soul by song, and dwelling<br /></span> +<span class="i3">In thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In human thought their being endures, their power<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Abides:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Else were their life a thing that each light hour<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Derides.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The years live, work, sigh, smile, and die, with all<br /></span> +<span class="i3">They cherish;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul endures, though dreams that fed it fall<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And perish.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i7" style="margin-top: 2em;">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In human thought have all things habitation;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Our days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laugh, lower, and lighten past, and find no station<br /></span> +<span class="i3">That stays.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span><span class="i0">But thought and faith are mightier things than time<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Can wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made splendid once with speech, or made sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i3">By song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Remembrance, though the tide of change that rolls<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Wax hoary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives earth and heaven, for song's sake and the soul's,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Their glory.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>July 16, 1885.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE RECALL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Return, they cry, ere yet your day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Set, and the sky grow stern:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Return, strayed souls, while yet ye may<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But heavens beyond us yearn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, heights of heaven above the sway<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of stars that eyes discern.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The soul whose wings from shoreward stray<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Makes toward her viewless bourne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though trustless faith and unfaith say,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> +<h2>BY TWILIGHT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If we dream that desire of the distance above us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should be fettered by fear of the shadows that seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we wake, to be nought, but to hate or to love us<br /></span> +<span class="i5">If we dream,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Night sinks on the soul, and the stars as they gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak menace or mourning, with tongues to reprove us<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we deemed of them better than terror may deem.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But if hope may not lure us, if fear may not move us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought lightens the darkness wherein the supreme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure presence of death shall assure us, and prove us<br /></span> +<span class="i5">If we dream.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> +<h2>A BABY'S EPITAPH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">April made me: winter laid me here away asleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as Maytime was my daytime; night is soft and deep:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though the morrow bring forth sorrow, well are ye that weep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye that held me dear beheld me not a twelvemonth long:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the while ye saw me smile, ye knew not whence the song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came that made me smile, and laid me here, and wrought you wrong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Angels, calling from your brawling world one undefiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Homeward bade me, and forbade me here to rest beguiled:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here I sleep not: pass, and weep not here upon your child.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON THE DEATH OF SIR HENRY TAYLOR</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fourscore and five times has the gradual year<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Risen and fulfilled its days of youth and eld<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since first the child's eyes opening first beheld<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light, who now leaves behind to help us here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light shed from song as starlight from a sphere<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Serene as summer; song whose charm compelled<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sovereign soul made flesh in Artevelde<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stand august before us and austere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half sad with mortal knowledge, all sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With trust that takes no taint from change or time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust in man's might of manhood. Strong and sage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clothed round with reverence of remembering hearts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He, twin-born with our nigh departing age,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the light of peace and fame departs.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN MEMORY OF JOHN WILLIAM INCHBOLD</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell: how should not such as thou fare well,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though we fare ill that love thee, and that live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And know, whate'er the days wherein we dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May give us, thee again they will not give?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peace, rest, and sleep are all we know of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all we dream of comfort: yet for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose breath of life was bright and strenuous breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We think the change is other than we see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The seal of sleep set on thine eyes to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Surely can seal not up the keen swift light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lit them once for ever. Night can slay<br /></span> +<span class="i1">None save the children of the womb of night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fire that burns up dawn to bring forth noon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was father of thy spirit: how shouldst thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Die as they die for whom the sun and moon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are silent? Thee the darkness holds not now:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Them, while they looked upon the light, and deemed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That life was theirs for living in the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The darkness held in bondage: and they dreamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who knew not that such life as theirs was none.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span><span class="i0">To thee the sun spake, and the morning sang<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Notes deep and clear as life or heaven: the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sounds for them but wild waste music rang<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Notes that were lost not when they rang for thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The mountains clothed with light and night and change,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lakes alive with wind and cloud and sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made answer, by constraint sublime and strange,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the ardent hand that bade thy will be done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We may not bid the mountains mourn, the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That lived and lightened from thine hand again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moan, as of old would men that mourned as we<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A man beloved, a man elect of men,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A man that loved them. Vain, divine and vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dream that touched with thoughts or tears of ours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit of sense that lives in sun and rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sings out in birds, and breathes and fades in flowers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not for our joy they live, and for our grief<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They die not. Though thine eye be closed, thine hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Powerless as mine to paint them, not a leaf<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In English woods or glades of Switzerland<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Falls earlier now, fades faster. All our love<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Moves not our mother's changeless heart, who gives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little light to eyes and stars above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A little life to each man's heart that lives.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span><span class="i0">A little life to heaven and earth and sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To stars and souls revealed of night and day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And change, the one thing changeless: yet shall she<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cease too, perchance, and perish. Who shall say?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our mother Nature, dark and sweet as sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And strange as life and strong as death, holds fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even as she holds our hearts alive, the deep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dumb secret of her first-born births and last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But this, we know, shall cease not till the strife<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of nights and days and fears and hopes find end;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, through the brief eternities of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Endures, and calls from death a living friend;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The love made strong with knowledge, whence confirmed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The whole soul takes assurance, and the past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(So by time's measure, not by memory's, termed)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lives present life, and mingles first with last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I, now long since thy guest of many days,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who found thy hearth a brother's, and with thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tracked in and out the lines of rolling bays<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And banks and gulfs and reaches of the sea—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Deep dens wherein the wrestling water sobs<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pants with restless pain of refluent breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all the sunless hollow sounds and throbs<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With ebb and flow of eddies dark as death—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know not what more glorious world, what waves<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More bright with life,—if brighter aught may live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than those that filled and fled their tidal caves—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May now give back the love thou hast to give.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span><span class="i0">Tintagel, and the long Trebarwith sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone Camelford, and Boscastle divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dower of southern blossom, bright and bland<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Above the roar of granite-baffled brine,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shall hear no more by joyous night or day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From downs or causeways good to rove and ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or feet of ours or horse-hoofs urge their way<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That sped us here and there by tower and tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The headlands and the hollows and the waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For all our love, forget us: where I am<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art not: deeper sleeps the shadow on graves<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than in the sunless gulf that once we swam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou hast swum too soon the sea of death: for us<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too soon, but if truth bless love's blind belief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith, born of hope and memory, says not thus:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And joy for thee for me should mean not grief.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And joy for thee, if ever soul of man<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Found joy in change and life of ampler birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than here pens in the spirit for a span,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Must be the life that doubt calls death on earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For if, beyond the shadow and the sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A place there be for souls without a stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where peace is perfect, and delight more deep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than seas or skies that change and shine again,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There none of all unsullied souls that live<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May hold a surer station: none may lend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More light to hope's or memory's lamp, nor give<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More joy than thine to those that called thee friend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span><span class="i0">Yea, joy from sorrow's barren womb is born<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When faith begets on grief the godlike child:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As midnight yearns with starry sense of morn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Arctic summers, though the sea wax wild,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So love, whose name is memory, thrills at heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Remembering and rejoicing in thee, now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alive where love may dream not what thou art<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But knows that higher than hope or love art thou.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whatever heaven, if heaven at all may be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Await the sacred souls of good men dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, now we mourn who loved him here, is he,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So, sweet and stern of speech, the Roman said,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Erect in grief, in trust erect, and gave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His deathless dead a deathless life even here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where day bears down on day as wave on wave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And not man's smile fades faster than his tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Albeit this gift be given not me to give,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor power be mine to break time's silent spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not less shall love that dies not while I live<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bid thee, beloved in life and death, farewell.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> +<h2>NEW YEAR'S DAY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">New Year, be good to England. Bid her name<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shine sunlike as of old on all the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Make strong her soul: set all her spirit free:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bind fast her homeborn foes with links of shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More strong than iron and more keen than flame:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seal up their lips for shame's sake: so shall she<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who was the light that lightened freedom be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all false tongues, in all men's eyes the same.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O last-born child of Time, earth's eldest lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">God undiscrowned of godhead, who for man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Begets all good and evil things that live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do thou, his new-begotten son, implored<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of hearts that hope and fear not, make thy span<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bright with such light as history bids thee give.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i0"><i>Jan. 1, 1889.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> +<h2>TO SIR RICHARD F. BURTON</h2> + +<h3>(ON HIS TRANSLATION OF "THE ARABIAN NIGHTS")</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Westward the sun sinks, grave and glad; but far<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Eastward, with laughter and tempestuous tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cloud, rain, and splendour as of orient spears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keen as the sea's thrill toward a kindling star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sundawn breaks the barren twilight's bar<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fires the mist and slays it. Years on years<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vanish, but he that hearkens eastward hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright music from the world where shadows are.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where shadows are not shadows. Hand in hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man's word bids them rise and smile and stand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And triumph. All that glorious orient glows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defiant of the dusk. Our twilight land<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Trembles; but all the heaven is all one rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whence laughing love dissolves her frosts and snows.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> +<h2>NELL GWYN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet heart, that no taint of the throne or the stage<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could touch with unclean transformation, or alter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the likeness of courtiers whose consciences falter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the smile or the frown, at the mirth or the rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a master whom chance could inflame or assuage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our Lady of Laughter, invoked in no psalter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Adored of no faithful that cringe and that palter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praise be with thee yet from a hag-ridden age.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our Lady of Pity thou wast: and to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All England, whose sons are the sons of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gives thanks, and will hear not if history snarls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the name of the friend of her sailors is spoken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy lover she cannot but love—by the token<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That thy name was the last on the lips of King Charles.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> +<h2>CALIBAN ON ARIEL</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract</i>"</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0" style="margin-top: 2em;">The tongue is loosed of that most lying slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whom stripes may move, not kindness. Listen: "Lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The real god of song, Lord Stephano,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's a brave god, if ever god were brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bears celestial liquor: but," the knave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(A most ridiculous monster) howls, "we know<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Ariel's lips what springs of poison flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chicken-heart blasphemer! Hear him rave!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon thy wicked dam, the witch whose name<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is darkness, and the sun her eyes' offence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though hell's hot sewerage breed no loathlier elf,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Men cry not shame upon thee, seeing thy shame<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So perfect: they but bid thee—"Hag-seed, hence!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WEARY WEDDING</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O daughter, why do ye laugh and weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For woe to wake and for will to sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But weep ye winna the day ye wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For tears are dry when the springs are dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too long have your tears run down like rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a long love lost and a sweet love slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too long have your tears dripped down like dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a knight that my sire and my brethren slew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let past things perish and dead griefs lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fain would I weep not, and fain would I die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span><span class="i0">Fair gifts we give ye, to laugh and live,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sair and strange are the gifts I give,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give for your father's love?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fruits full few and thorns enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give for your mother's sake?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears to brew and tares to bake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your sister Jean?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bier to build and a babe to wean,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your sister Nell?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The end of life and beginning of hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your sister Kate?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's door and hell's gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your brother Will?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's grief and world's ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span><span class="i0">And what will ye give your brother Hugh?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bed of turf to turn into,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your brother John?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dust of death to feed upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your bauld bridegroom?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A barren bed and an empty room,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your bridegroom's friend?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A weary foot to the weary end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye give your blithe bridesmaid?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grief to sew and sorrow to braid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye drink the day ye're wed?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ae drink of the wan well-head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whatten a water is that to draw?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We maun draw thereof a', we maun drink thereof a',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span><span class="i0">And what shall ye pu' where the well rins deep?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green herb of death, fine flower of sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Are there ony fishes that swim therein?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white fish grace, and the red fish sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Are there ony birds that sing thereby?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O when they come thither they sing till they die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is there ony draw-bucket to that well-head?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a wee well-bucket hangs low by a thread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whatten a thread is that to spin?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's green for grace, and it's black for sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye strew on your bride-chamber floor?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one strewing and no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whatten a strewing shall that one be?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dust of earth and sand of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span><span class="i0">And what will ye take to build your bed?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing and shame and the bones of the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye wear for your wedding gown?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grass for the green and dust for the brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye wear for your wedding lace?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavy heart and a hidden face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye wear for a wreath to your head?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ash for the white and blood for the red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what will ye wear for your wedding ring?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A weary thought for a weary thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what shall the chimes and the bell-ropes play?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A weary tune on a weary day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what shall be sung for your wedding song?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A weary word of a weary wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span><span class="i0">The world's way with me runs back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wedded in white and buried in black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world's day and the world's night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wedded in black and buried in white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world's bliss and the world's teen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's red for white and it's black for green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world's will and the world's way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's sighing for night and crying for day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world's good and the world's worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's earth to flesh and it's flesh to earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0" style="margin-top: .5em;"> * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When she came out at the kirkyard gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bridegroom's mother was there in wait.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O mother, where is my great green bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silk at the foot and gold at the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span><span class="i0">Yea, it is ready, the silk and the gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But line it well that I lie not cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She laid her cheek to the velvet and vair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She laid her arms up under her hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her gold hair fell through her arms fu' low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord God, bring me out of woe!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her gold hair fell in the gay reeds green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord God, bring me out of teen!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0" style="margin-top: .5em;"> * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O mother, where is my lady gone?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the bride-chamber she makes sore moan:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her hair falls over the velvet and vair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her great soft tears fall over her hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he came into the bride's chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hands were like pale yellow amber.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span><span class="i0">Her tears made specks in the velvet and vair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seeds of the reeds made specks in her hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He kissed her under the gold on her head;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lids of her eyes were like cold lead.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He kissed her under the fall of her chin;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was right little blood therein.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He kissed her under her shoulder sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her throat was weak, with little heat.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He kissed her down by her breast-flowers red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were like river-flowers dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What ails you now o' your weeping, wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It ails me sair o' my very life.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What ails you now o' your weary ways?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It ails me sair o' my long life-days.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span><span class="i0">Nay, ye are young, ye are over fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I be young, what needs ye care?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, ye are fair, ye are over sweet.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I be fair, what needs ye greet?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, ye are mine while I hold my life.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fool, will ye marry the worm for a wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, ye are mine while I have my breath.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(One with another.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fool, will ye marry the dust of death?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mother, my mother.)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, ye are mine, we are handfast wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One with another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, I am no man's; nay, I am dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mother, my mother.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WINDS</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O weary fa' the east wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And weary fa' the west:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gin I were under the wan waves wide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I wot weel wad I rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O weary fa' the north wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And weary fa' the south:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea went ower my good lord's head<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or ever he kissed my mouth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weary fa' the windward rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And weary fa' the lee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They might hae sunken sevenscore ships,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And let my love's gang free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And weary fa' ye, mariners a',<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And weary fa' the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It might hae taken an hundred men,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And let my ae love be.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> +<h2>A LYKE-WAKE SONG</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair of face, full of pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit ye down by a dead man's side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye sang songs a' the day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit down at night in the red worm's way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Proud ye were a' day long:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye'll be but lean at evensong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye had gowd kells on your hair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nae man kens what ye were.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye set scorn by the silken stuff:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the grave is clean enough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye set scorn by the rubis ring:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the worm is a saft sweet thing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fine gold and blithe fair face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye are come to a grimly place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gold hair and glad grey een,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nae man kens if ye have been.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> +<h2>A REIVER'S NECK-VERSE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some die singing, and some die swinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And weel mot a' they be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some die playing, and some die praying,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And I wot sae winna we, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And I wot sae winna we.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some die sailing, and some die wailing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And some die fair and free:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some die flyting, and some die fighting,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But I for a fause love's fee, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But I for a fause love's fee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some die laughing, and some die quaffing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And some die high on tree:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some die spinning, and some die sinning,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But faggot and fire for ye, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faggot and fire for ye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some die weeping, and some die sleeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And some die under sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some die ganging, and some die hanging,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a twine of a tow for me, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A twine of a tow for me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WITCH-MOTHER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O where will ye gang to and where will ye sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Against the night begins?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My bed is made wi' cauld sorrows,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My sheets are lined wi' sins.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And a sair grief sitting at my foot,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a sair grief at my head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dule to lay me my laigh pillows,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And teen till I be dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the rain is sair upon my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sair upon my hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wind upon my weary mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That never may man kiss mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the snow upon my heavy lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That never shall drink nor eat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shame to cledding, and woe to wedding,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pain to drink and meat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But woe be to my bairns' father,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ever ill fare he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has tane a braw bride hame to him,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cast out my bairns and me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span><span class="i0">"And what shall they have to their marriage meat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This day they twain are wed?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Meat of strong crying, salt of sad sighing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And God restore the dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what shall they have to their wedding wine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This day they twain are wed?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wine of weeping, and draughts of sleeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And God raise up the dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's tane her to the wild woodside,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Between the flood and fell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's sought a rede against her need<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the fiend that bides in hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's tane her to the wan burnside,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She's wrought wi' sang and spell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's plighted her soul for doom and dole<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the fiend that bides in hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's set her young son to her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her auld son to her knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says, "Weel for you the night, bairnies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And weel the morn for me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She looked fu' lang in their een, sighing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sair and sair grat she:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has slain her young son at her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her auld son at her knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's sodden their flesh wi' saft water,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She's mixed their blood with wine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's tane her to the braw bride-house,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where a' were boun' to dine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span><span class="i0">She poured the red wine in his cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his een grew fain to greet:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She set the baked meats at his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And bade him drink and eat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says, "Eat your fill of your flesh, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And drink your fill of your wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a' thing's yours and only yours<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That has been yours and mine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says, "Drink your fill of your wine, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And eat your fill of your bread:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would they were quick in my body again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or I that bare them dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He struck her head frae her fair body,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And dead for grief he fell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there were twae mair sangs in heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And twae mair sauls in hell.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BRIDE'S TRAGEDY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The wind wears roun', the day wears doun,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The moon is grisly grey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nae man rides by the mirk muirsides,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor down the dark Tyne's way."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And winna ye watch the night wi' me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And winna ye wake the morn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foul shame it were that your ae mither<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should brook her ae son's scorn."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O mither, I may not sleep nor stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My weird is ill to dree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a fause faint lord of the south seaboard<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wad win my bride of me."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The winds are strang, and the nights are lang,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the ways are sair to ride:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I maun gang to wreak my wrang,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ye maun bide and bide."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span><span class="i0">"Gin I maun bide and bide, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I wot my weird is sair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weel may ye get ye a light love yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a mither mair."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O gin the morrow be great wi' sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wyte be yours of a':<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But though ye slay me that haud and stay me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weird ye will maun fa'."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When cocks were crawing and day was dawing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He's boun' him forth to ride:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the ae first may he's met that day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was fause Earl Robert's bride.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O blithe and braw were the bride-folk a',<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But sad and saft rade she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sad as doom was her fause bridegroom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But fair and fain was he.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And winna ye bide, sae saft ye ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And winna ye speak wi' me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For mony's the word and the kindly word<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I have spoken aft wi' thee."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span><span class="i0">"My lamp was lit yestreen, Willie,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My window-gate was wide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ye camena nigh me till day came by me<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And made me not your bride."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's set his hand to her bridle-rein,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He's turned her horse away:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the cry was sair, and the wrath was mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fast and fain rode they.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when they came by Chollerford,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I wot the ways were fell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For broad and brown the spate swang down,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the lift was mirk as hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And will ye ride yon fell water,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or will ye bide for fear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nae scathe ye'll win o' your father's kin,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though they should slay me here."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I had liefer ride yon fell water,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though strange it be to ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than I wad stand on the fair green strand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And thou be slain beside."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span><span class="i0">"I had liefer swim yon wild water,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though sair it be to bide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than I wad stand at a strange man's hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To be a strange man's bride."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I had liefer drink yon dark water,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wi' the stanes to make my bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the faem to hide me, and thou beside me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than I wad see thee dead."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He's kissed her twice, he's kissed her thrice,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On cheek and lip and chin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's wound her rein to his hand again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lightly they leapt in.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Their hearts were high to live or die,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their steeds were stark of limb:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the stream was starker, the spate was darker,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than man might live and swim.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first ae step they strode therein,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It smote them foot and knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere they wan to the mid water<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The spate was as the sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span><span class="i0">But when they wan to the mid water,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It smote them hand and head:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nae man knows but the wave that flows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where they lie drowned and dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In, in, out and in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> +<h2>A JACOBITE'S FAREWELL</h2> + +<h3>1716</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's nae mair lands to tyne, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And nae mair lives to gie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though a man think sair to live nae mair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There's but one day to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For a' things come and a' days gane,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What needs ye rend your hair?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But kiss me till the morn's morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then I'll kiss ye nae mair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O lands are lost and life's losing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And what were they to gie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fu' mony a man gives all he can,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But nae man else gives ye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our king wons ower the sea's water,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And I in prison sair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll win out the morn's morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ye'll see me nae mair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> +<h2>A JACOBITE'S EXILE</h2> + +<h3>1746</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The weary day rins down and dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weary night wears through:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never an hour is fair wi' flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And never a flower wi' dew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I would the day were night for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I would the night were day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For then would I stand in my ain fair land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As now in dreams I may.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O lordly flow the Loire and Seine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And loud the dark Durance:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bonnier shine the braes of Tyne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than a' the fields of France;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the waves of Till that speak sae still<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleam goodlier where they glance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O weel were they that fell fighting<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On dark Drumossie's day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They keep their hame ayont the faem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And we die far away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span><span class="i0">O sound they sleep, and saft, and deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But night and day wake we;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever between the sea-banks green<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sounds loud the sundering sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ill we sleep, sae sair we weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But sweet and fast sleep they;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the mool that haps them roun' and laps them<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is e'en their country's clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the land we tread that are not dead<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is strange as night by day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strange as night in a strange man's sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though fair as dawn it be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what is here that a stranger's cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should yet wax blithe to see?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hills stand steep, the dells lie deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fields are green and gold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hill-streams sing, and the hill-sides ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As ours at home of old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But hills and flowers are nane of ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ours are oversea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the kind strange land whereon we stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It wotsna what were we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or ever we came, wi' scathe and shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To try what end might be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scathe, and shame, and a waefu' name,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a weary time and strange,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have they that seeing a weird for dreeing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can die, and cannot change.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span><span class="i0">Shame and scorn may we thole that mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though sair be they to dree:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ill may we bide the thoughts we hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mair keen than wind and sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ill may we thole the night's watches,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ill the weary day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dreams that keep the gates of sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A waefu' gift gie they;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the sangs they sing us, the sights they bring us,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The morn blaws all away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On Aikenshaw the sun blinks braw,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The burn rins blithe and fain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's nought wi' me I wadna gie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To look thereon again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On Keilder-side the wind blaws wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There sounds nae hunting-horn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rings sae sweet as the winds that beat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round banks where Tyne is born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Wansbeck sings with all her springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bents and braes give ear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the wood that rings wi' the sang she sings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I may not see nor hear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For far and far thae blithe burns are,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And strange is a' thing near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The light there lightens, the day there brightens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The loud wind there lives free:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nae light comes nigh me or wind blaws by me<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That I wad hear or see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span><span class="i0">But O gin I were there again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Afar ayont the faem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cauld and dead in the sweet saft bed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That haps my sires at hame!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We'll see nae mair the sea-banks fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the sweet grey gleaming sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lordly strand of Northumberland,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the goodly towers thereby:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none shall know but the winds that blow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The graves wherein we lie.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE TYNESIDE WIDOW</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's mony a man loves land and life,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loves life and land and fee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mony a man loves fair women,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a man loves me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a man loves me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O weel and weel for a' lovers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I wot weel may they be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weel and weel for a' fair maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But aye mair woe for me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But aye mair woe for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O weel be wi' you, ye sma' flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ye flowers and every tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weel be wi' you, a' birdies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But teen and tears wi' me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But teen and tears wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O weel be yours, my three brethren,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ever weel be ye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' deeds for doing and loves for wooing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a love for me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a love for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span><span class="i0">And weel be yours, my seven sisters,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And good love-days to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long life-days and true lovers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a day for me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a day for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good times wi' you, ye bauld riders,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the hieland and the lee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the leeland and by the hieland<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It's weary times wi' me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It's weary times wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good days wi' you, ye good sailors,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sail in and out the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the beaches and by the reaches<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It's heavy days wi' me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It's heavy days wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I had his kiss upon my mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His bairn upon my knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would my soul and body were twain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the bairn and the kiss wi' me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the bairn and the kiss wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bairn down in the mools, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O saft and saft lies she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would the mools were ower my head,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the young bairn fast wi' me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the young bairn fast wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The father under the faem, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O sound and sound sleeps he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would the faem were ower my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the father lay by me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the father lay by me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span><span class="i0">I would the faem were ower my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or the mools on my ee-bree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waking-time with a' lovers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But sleeping-time wi' me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But sleeping-time wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I would the mools were meat in my mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The saut faem in my ee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the land-worm and the water-worm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To feed fu' sweet on me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To feed fu' sweet on me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My life is sealed with a seal of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And locked with love for a key;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I lie wrang and I wake lang,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But ye tak' nae thought for me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But ye tak' nae thought for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We were weel fain of love, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O fain and fain were we;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was weel with a' the weary world,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But O, sae weel wi' me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But O, sae weel wi' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We were nane ower mony to sleep, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I wot we were but three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never a bed in the weary world<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For my bairn and my dear and me, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For my bairn and my dear and me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> +<h2>DEDICATION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The years are many, the changes more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since wind and sun on the wild sweet shore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where Joyous Gard stands stark by the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With face as bright as in years of yore<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shone, swept, and sounded, and laughed for glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More deep than a man's or a child's may be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On a day when summer was wild and glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the guests of the wind and the sun were we.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The light that lightens from seasons clad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With darkness now, is it glad or sad?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not sad but glad should it shine, meseems,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On eyes yet fain of the joy they had.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For joy was there with us; joy that gleams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murmurs yet in the world of dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where thought holds fast, as a constant warder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The days when I rode by moors and streams,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reining my rhymes into buoyant order<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through honied leagues of the northland border.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though thought or memory fade, and prove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A faithless keeper, a thriftless hoarder,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span><span class="i0">One landmark never can change remove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One sign can the years efface not. Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More strong than death or than doubt may be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Treads down their strengths, and abides above.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, change and death are his servants: we,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom love of the dead links fast, though free,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May smile as they that beheld the dove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear home her signal across the sea.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems and Ballads (Third Series), by +Algernon Charles Swinburne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS AND BALLADS (THIRD SERIES) *** + +***** This file should be named 18726-h.htm or 18726-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/2/18726/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Lisa Reigel, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Poems and Ballads (Third Series) + Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles + Swinburne--Vol. III + +Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne + +Release Date: July 1, 2006 [EBook #18726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS AND BALLADS (THIRD SERIES) *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Lisa Reigel, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +Poems and Ballads + +Third Series + +By + +Algernon Charles Swinburne + +Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles +Swinburne--Vol. III + + + + +THE COLLECTED POETICAL WORKS OF ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE + +VOL. III + + +POEMS & BALLADS + +(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES) + +AND + +SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES + + + + +SWINBURNE'S POETICAL WORKS + + + I. POEMS AND BALLADS (First Series). + + II. SONGS BEFORE SUNRISE, AND SONGS OF TWO NATIONS. + +III. POEMS AND BALLADS (Second and Third Series), and SONGS OF THE + SPRINGTIDES. + + IV. TRISTRAM OF LYONESSE, THE TALE OF BALEN, ATALANTA IN CALYDON, + ERECHTHEUS. + + V. STUDIES IN SONG, A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS, SONNETS ON ENGLISH DRAMATIC + POETS, THE HEPTALOGIA, ETC. + + VI. A MIDSUMMER HOLIDAY, ASTROPHEL, A CHANNEL PASSAGE AND OTHER POEMS. + + +LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN + + + + +POEMS & BALLADS + +(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES) + +AND + +SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES + + +By + +Algernon Charles Swinburne + + +1917 + +LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN + + +_First printed (Chatto), 1904_ + +_Reprinted 1904, '09, '10, '12_ + +_(Heinemann), 1917_ + + +_London: William Heinemann, 1917_ + + + + +POEMS AND BALLADS + +THIRD SERIES + + + PAGE +MARCH: AN ODE 169 + +THE COMMONWEAL 174 + +THE ARMADA 187 + +TO A SEAMEW 211 + +PAN AND THALASSIUS 215 + +A BALLAD OF BATH 222 + +IN A GARDEN 224 + +A RHYME 226 + +BABY-BIRD 228 + +OLIVE 230 + +A WORD WITH THE WIND 234 + +NEAP-TIDE 238 + +BY THE WAYSIDE 241 + +NIGHT 243 + +IN TIME OF MOURNING 244 + +THE INTERPRETERS 245 + +THE RECALL 248 + +BY TWILIGHT 249 + +A BABY'S EPITAPH 250 + +ON THE DEATH OF SIR HENRY TAYLOR 251 + +IN MEMORY OF JOHN WILLIAM INCHBOLD 252 + +NEW YEAR'S DAY 257 + +TO SIR RICHARD F. BURTON 258 + +NELL GWYN 259 + +CALIBAN ON ARIEL 260 + +THE WEARY WEDDING 261 + +THE WINDS 270 + +A LYKE-WAKE SONG 271 + +A REIVER'S NECK-VERSE 272 + +THE WITCH-MOTHER 273 + +THE BRIDE'S TRAGEDY 276 + +A JACOBITE'S FAREWELL 281 + +A JACOBITE'S EXILE 282 + +THE TYNESIDE WIDOW 286 + +DEDICATION 289 + + + + +POEMS AND BALLADS + +THIRD SERIES + + +TO + +WILLIAM BELL SCOTT + +POET AND PAINTER + +I DEDICATE THESE POEMS + +IN MEMORY OF MANY YEARS + + + + + MARCH: AN ODE + + 1887 + + + I + + Ere frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell, and the splendour + of winter had passed out of sight, + The ways of the woodlands were fairer and stranger than dreams that + fulfil us in sleep with delight; + The breath of the mouths of the winds had hardened on tree-tops and + branches that glittered and swayed + Such wonders and glories of blossomlike snow or of frost that + outlightens all flowers till it fade + That the sea was not lovelier than here was the land, nor the night + than the day, nor the day than the night, + Nor the winter sublimer with storm than the spring: such mirth had + the madness and might in thee made, + March, master of winds, bright minstrel and marshal of storms that + enkindle the season they smite. + + + II + + And now that the rage of thy rapture is satiate with revel and + ravin and spoil of the snow, + And the branches it brightened are broken, and shattered the + tree-tops that only thy wrath could lay low, + How should not thy lovers rejoice in thee, leader and lord of the + year that exults to be born + So strong in thy strength and so glad of thy gladness whose + laughter puts winter and sorrow to scorn? + Thou hast shaken the snows from thy wings, and the frost on thy + forehead is molten: thy lips are aglow + As a lover's that kindle with kissing, and earth, with her raiment + and tresses yet wasted and torn, + Takes breath as she smiles in the grasp of thy passion to feel + through her spirit the sense of thee flow. + + + III + + Fain, fain would we see but again for an hour what the wind and the + sun have dispelled and consumed, + Those full deep swan-soft feathers of snow with whose luminous + burden the branches implumed + Hung heavily, curved as a half-bent bow, and fledged not as birds + are, but petalled as flowers, + Each tree-top and branchlet a pinnacle jewelled and carved, or a + fountain that shines as it showers, + But fixed as a fountain is fixed not, and wrought not to last till + by time or by tempest entombed, + As a pinnacle carven and gilded of men: for the date of its doom is + no more than an hour's, + One hour of the sun's when the warm wind wakes him to wither the + snow-flowers that froze as they bloomed. + + + IV + + As the sunshine quenches the snowshine; as April subdues thee, and + yields up his kingdom to May; + So time overcomes the regret that is born of delight as it passes + in passion away, + And leaves but a dream for desire to rejoice in or mourn for with + tears or thanksgivings; but thou, + Bright god that art gone from us, maddest and gladdest of months, + to what goal hast thou gone from us now? + For somewhere surely the storm of thy laughter that lightens, the + beat of thy wings that play, + Must flame as a fire through the world, and the heavens that we + know not rejoice in thee: surely thy brow + Hath lost not its radiance of empire, thy spirit the joy that + impelled it on quest as for prey. + + + V + + Are thy feet on the ways of the limitless waters, thy wings on the + winds of the waste north sea? + Are the fires of the false north dawn over heavens where summer is + stormful and strong like thee + Now bright in the sight of thine eyes? are the bastions of icebergs + assailed by the blast of thy breath? + Is it March with the wild north world when April is waning? the + word that the changed year saith, + Is it echoed to northward with rapture of passion reiterate from + spirits triumphant as we + Whose hearts were uplift at the blast of thy clarions as men's + rearisen from a sleep that was death + And kindled to life that was one with the world's and with thine? + hast thou set not the whole world free? + + + VI + + For the breath of thy lips is freedom, and freedom's the sense of + thy spirit, the sound of thy song, + Glad god of the north-east wind, whose heart is as high as the + hands of thy kingdom are strong, + Thy kingdom whose empire is terror and joy, twin-featured and + fruitful of births divine, + Days lit with the flame of the lamps of the flowers, and nights + that are drunken with dew for wine, + And sleep not for joy of the stars that deepen and quicken, a + denser and fierier throng, + And the world that thy breath bade whiten and tremble rejoices at + heart as they strengthen and shine, + And earth gives thanks for the glory bequeathed her, and knows of + thy reign that it wrought not wrong. + + + VII + + Thy spirit is quenched not, albeit we behold not thy face in the + crown of the steep sky's arch, + And the bold first buds of the whin wax golden, and witness arise + of the thorn and the larch: + Wild April, enkindled to laughter and storm by the kiss of the + wildest of winds that blow, + Calls loud on his brother for witness; his hands that were laden + with blossom are sprinkled with snow, + And his lips breathe winter, and laugh, and relent; and the live + woods feel not the frost's flame parch; + For the flame of the spring that consumes not but quickens is felt + at the heart of the forest aglow, + And the sparks that enkindled and fed it were strewn from the hands + of the gods of the winds of March. + + + + + THE COMMONWEAL + + 1887 + + + I + + Eight hundred years and twenty-one + Have shone and sunken since the land + Whose name is freedom bore such brand + As marks a captive, and the sun + Beheld her fettered hand. + + + II + + But ere dark time had shed as rain + Or sown on sterile earth as seed + That bears no fruit save tare and weed + An age and half an age again, + She rose on Runnymede. + + + III + + Out of the shadow, starlike still, + She rose up radiant in her right, + And spake, and put to fear and flight + The lawless rule of awless will + That pleads no right save might. + + + IV + + Nor since hath England ever borne + The burden laid on subject lands, + The rule that curbs and binds all hands + Save one, and marks for servile scorn + The heads it bows and brands. + + + V + + A commonweal arrayed and crowned + With gold and purple, girt with steel + At need, that foes must fear or feel, + We find her, as our fathers found, + Earth's lordliest commonweal. + + + VI + + And now that fifty years are flown + Since in a maiden's hand the sign + Of empire that no seas confine + First as a star to seaward shone, + We see their record shine. + + + VII + + A troubled record, foul and fair, + A simple record and serene, + Inscribes for praise a blameless queen, + For praise and blame an age of care + And change and ends unseen. + + + VIII + + Hope, wide of eye and wild of wing, + Rose with the sundawn of a reign + Whose grace should make the rough ways plain, + And fill the worn old world with spring, + And heal its heart of pain. + + + IX + + Peace was to be on earth; men's hope + Was holier than their fathers had, + Their wisdom not more wise than glad: + They saw the gates of promise ope, + And heard what love's lips bade. + + + X + + Love armed with knowledge, winged and wise, + Should hush the wind of war, and see, + They said, the sun of days to be + Bring round beneath serener skies + A stormless jubilee. + + + XI + + Time, in the darkness unbeholden + That hides him from the sight of fear + And lets but dreaming hope draw near, + Smiled and was sad to hear such golden + Strains hail the all-golden year. + + + XII + + Strange clouds have risen between, and wild + Red stars of storm that lit the abyss + Wherein fierce fraud and violence kiss + And mock such promise as beguiled + The fiftieth year from this. + + + XIII + + War upon war, change after change, + Hath shaken thrones and towers to dust, + And hopes austere and faiths august + Have watched in patience stern and strange + Men's works unjust and just. + + + XIV + + As from some Alpine watch-tower's portal + Night, living yet, looks forth for dawn, + So from time's mistier mountain lawn + The spirit of man, in trust immortal, + Yearns toward a hope withdrawn. + + + XV + + The morning comes not, yet the night + Wanes, and men's eyes win strength to see + Where twilight is, where light shall be + When conquered wrong and conquering right + Acclaim a world set free. + + + XVI + + Calm as our mother-land, the mother + Of faith and freedom, pure and wise, + Keeps watch beneath unchangeful skies, + When hath she watched the woes of other + Strange lands with alien eyes? + + + XVII + + Calm as she stands alone, what nation + Hath lacked an alms from English hands? + What exiles from what stricken lands + Have lacked the shelter of the station + Where higher than all she stands? + + + XVIII + + Though time discrown and change dismantle + The pride of thrones and towers that frown, + How should they bring her glories down-- + The sea cast round her like a mantle, + The sea-cloud like a crown? + + + XIX + + The sea, divine as heaven and deathless, + Is hers, and none but only she + Hath learnt the sea's word, none but we + Her children hear in heart the breathless + Bright watchword of the sea. + + + XX + + Heard not of others, or misheard + Of many a land for many a year, + The watchword Freedom fails not here + Of hearts that witness if the word + Find faith in England's ear. + + + XXI + + She, first to love the light, and daughter + Incarnate of the northern dawn, + She, round whose feet the wild waves fawn + When all their wrath of warring water + Sounds like a babe's breath drawn, + + + XXII + + How should not she best know, love best, + And best of all souls understand + The very soul of freedom, scanned + Far off, sought out in darkling quest + By men at heart unmanned? + + + XXIII + + They climb and fall, ensnared, enshrouded, + By mists of words and toils they set + To take themselves, till fierce regret + Grows mad with shame, and all their clouded + Red skies hang sunless yet. + + + XXIV + + But us the sun, not wholly risen + Nor equal now for all, illumes + With more of light than cloud that looms; + Of light that leads forth souls from prison + And breaks the seals of tombs. + + + XXV + + Did not her breasts who reared us rear + Him who took heaven in hand, and weighed + Bright world with world in balance laid? + What Newton's might could make not clear + Hath Darwin's might not made? + + + XXVI + + The forces of the dark dissolve, + The doorways of the dark are broken: + The word that casts out night is spoken, + And whence the springs of things evolve + Light born of night bears token. + + + XXVII + + She, loving light for light's sake only, + And truth for only truth's, and song + For song's sake and the sea's, how long + Hath she not borne the world her lonely + Witness of right and wrong? + + + XXVIII + + From light to light her eyes imperial + Turn, and require the further light, + More perfect than the sun's in sight, + Till star and sun seem all funereal + Lamps of the vaulted night. + + + XXIX + + She gazes till the strenuous soul + Within the rapture of her eyes + Creates or bids awake, arise, + The light she looks for, pure and whole + And worshipped of the wise. + + + XXX + + Such sons are hers, such radiant hands + Have borne abroad her lamp of old, + Such mouths of honey-dropping gold + Have sent across all seas and lands + Her fame as music rolled. + + + XXXI + + As music made of rolling thunder + That hurls through heaven its heart sublime, + Its heart of joy, in charging chime, + So ring the songs that round and under + Her temple surge and climb. + + + XXXII + + A temple not by men's hands builded, + But moulded of the spirit, and wrought + Of passion and imperious thought; + With light beyond all sunlight gilded, + Whereby the sun seems nought. + + + XXXIII + + Thy shrine, our mother, seen for fairer + Than even thy natural face, made fair + With kisses of thine April air + Even now, when spring thy banner-bearer + Took up thy sign to bear; + + + XXXIV + + Thine annual sign from heaven's own arch + Given of the sun's hand into thine, + To rear and cheer each wildwood shrine + But now laid waste by wild-winged March, + March, mad with wind like wine. + + + XXXV + + From all thy brightening downs whereon + The windy seaward whin-flower shows + Blossom whose pride strikes pale the rose + Forth is the golden watchword gone + Whereat the world's face glows. + + + XXXVI + + Thy quickening woods rejoice and ring + Till earth seems glorious as the sea: + With yearning love too glad for glee + The world's heart quivers toward the spring + As all our hearts toward thee. + + + XXXVII + + Thee, mother, thee, our queen, who givest + Assurance to the heavens most high + And earth whereon her bondsmen sigh + That by the sea's grace while thou livest + Hope shall not wholly die. + + + XXXVIII + + That while thy free folk hold the van + Of all men, and the sea-spray shed + As dew more heavenly on thy head + Keeps bright thy face in sight of man, + Man's pride shall drop not dead. + + + XXXIX + + A pride more pure than humblest prayer, + More wise than wisdom born of doubt, + Girds for thy sake men's hearts about + With trust and triumph that despair + And fear may cast not out. + + + XL + + Despair may wring men's hearts, and fear + Bow down their heads to kiss the dust, + Where patriot memories rot and rust, + And change makes faint a nation's cheer, + And faith yields up her trust. + + + XLI + + Not here this year have true men known, + Not here this year may true men know, + That brand of shame-compelling woe + Which bids but brave men shrink or groan + And lays but honour low. + + + XLII + + The strong spring wind blows notes of praise, + And hallowing pride of heart, and cheer + Unchanging, toward all true men here + Who hold the trust of ancient days + High as of old this year. + + + XLIII + + The days that made thee great are dead; + The days that now must keep thee great + Lie not in keeping of thy fate; + In thine they lie, whose heart and head + Sustain thy charge of state. + + + XLIV + + No state so proud, no pride so just, + The sun, through clouds at sunrise curled + Or clouds across the sunset whirled, + Hath sight of, nor has man such trust + As thine in all the world. + + + XLV + + Each hour that sees the sunset's crest + Make bright thy shores ere day decline + Sees dawn the sun on shores of thine, + Sees west as east and east as west + On thee their sovereign shine. + + + XLVI + + The sea's own heart must needs wax proud + To have borne the world a child like thee. + What birth of earth might ever be + Thy sister? Time, a wandering cloud, + Is sunshine on thy sea. + + + XLVII + + Change mars not her; and thee, our mother, + What change that irks or moves thee mars? + What shock that shakes? what chance that jars? + Time gave thee, as he gave none other, + A station like a star's. + + + XLVIII + + The storm that shrieks, the wind that wages + War with the wings of hopes that climb + Too high toward heaven in doubt sublime, + Assail not thee, approved of ages + The towering crown of time. + + + XLIX + + Toward thee this year thy children turning + With souls uplift of changeless cheer + Salute with love that casts out fear, + With hearts for beacons round thee burning, + The token of this year. + + + L + + With just and sacred jubilation + Let earth sound answer to the sea + For witness, blown on winds as free, + How England, how her crowning nation, + Acclaims this jubilee. + + + + + THE ARMADA + + 1588: 1888 + + + I + + I + + England, mother born of seamen, daughter fostered of the sea, + Mother more beloved than all who bear not all their children free, + Reared and nursed and crowned and cherished by the sea-wind and + the sun, + Sweetest land and strongest, face most fair and mightiest heart + in one, + Stands not higher than when the centuries known of earth were less + by three, + When the strength that struck the whole world pale fell back from + hers undone. + + II + + At her feet were the heads of her foes bowed down, and the + strengths of the storm of them stayed, + And the hearts that were touched not with mercy with terror were + touched and amazed and affrayed: + Yea, hearts that had never been molten with pity were molten with + fear as with flame, + And the priests of the Godhead whose temple is hell, and his heart + is of iron and fire, + And the swordsmen that served and the seamen that sped them, whom + peril could tame not or tire, + Were as foam on the winds of the waters of England which tempest + can tire not or tame. + + III + + They were girded about with thunder, and lightning came forth of + the rage of their strength, + And the measure that measures the wings of the storm was the + breadth of their force and the length: + And the name of their might was Invincible, covered and clothed + with the terror of God; + With his wrath were they winged, with his love were they fired, + with the speed of his winds were they shod; + With his soul were they filled, in his trust were they comforted: + grace was upon them as night, + And faith as the blackness of darkness: the fume of their balefires + was fair in his sight, + The reek of them sweet as a savour of myrrh in his nostrils: the + world that he made, + Theirs was it by gift of his servants: the wind, if they spake in + his name, was afraid, + And the sun was a shadow before it, the stars were astonished with + fear of it: fire + Went up to them, fed with men living, and lit of men's hands for a + shrine or a pyre; + And the east and the west wind scattered their ashes abroad, that + his name should be blest + Of the tribes of the chosen whose blessings are curses from + uttermost east unto west. + + + II + + I + + Hell for Spain, and heaven for England,--God to God, and man to + man,-- + Met confronted, light with darkness, life with death: since time + began, + Never earth nor sea beheld so great a stake before them set, + Save when Athens hurled back Asia from the lists wherein they + met; + Never since the sands of ages through the glass of history ran + Saw the sun in heaven a lordlier day than this that lights us + yet. + + II + + For the light that abides upon England, the glory that rests on her + godlike name, + The pride that is love and the love that is faith, a perfume + dissolved in flame, + Took fire from the dawn of the fierce July when fleets were + scattered as foam + And squadrons as flakes of spray; when galleon and galliass that + shadowed the sea + Were swept from her waves like shadows that pass with the clouds + they fell from, and she + Laughed loud to the wind as it gave to her keeping the glories of + Spain and Rome. + + III + + Three hundred summers have fallen as leaves by the storms in their + season thinned, + Since northward the war-ships of Spain came sheer up the way of the + south-west wind: + Where the citadel cliffs of England are flanked with bastions of + serpentine, + Far off to the windward loomed their hulls, an hundred and + twenty-nine, + All filled full of the war, full-fraught with battle and charged + with bale; + Then store-ships weighted with cannon; and all were an hundred and + fifty sail. + The measureless menace of darkness anhungered with hope to prevail + upon light, + The shadow of death made substance, the present and visible spirit + of night, + Came, shaped as a waxing or waning moon that rose with the fall of + day, + To the channel where couches the Lion in guard of the gate of the + lustrous bay. + Fair England, sweet as the sea that shields her, and pure as the + sea from stain, + Smiled, hearing hardly for scorn that stirred her the menace of + saintly Spain. + + + III + + I + + "They that ride over ocean wide with hempen bridle and horse of + tree," + How shall they in the darkening day of wrath and anguish and fear + go free? + How shall these that have curbed the seas not feel his bridle who + made the sea? + + God shall bow them and break them now: for what is man in the Lord + God's sight? + Fear shall shake them, and shame shall break, and all the noon of + their pride be night: + These that sinned shall the ravening wind of doom bring under, and + judgment smite. + + England broke from her neck the yoke, and rent the fetter, and + mocked the rod: + Shrines of old that she decked with gold she turned to dust, to the + dust she trod: + What is she, that the wind and sea should fight beside her, and war + with God? + + Lo, the cloud of his ships that crowd her channel's inlet with + storm sublime, + Darker far than the tempests are that sweep the skies of her + northmost clime; + Huge and dense as the walls that fence the secret darkness of + unknown time. + + Mast on mast as a tower goes past, and sail by sail as a cloud's + wing spread; + Fleet by fleet, as the throngs whose feet keep time with death in + his dance of dread; + Galleons dark as the helmsman's bark of old that ferried to hell + the dead. + + Squadrons proud as their lords, and loud with tramp of soldiers + and chant of priests; + Slaves there told by the thousandfold, made fast in bondage as + herded beasts; + Lords and slaves that the sweet free waves shall feed on, satiate + with funeral feasts. + + Nay, not so shall it be, they know; their priests have said it; can + priesthood lie? + God shall keep them, their God shall sleep not: peril and evil + shall pass them by: + Nay, for these are his children; seas and winds shall bid not his + children die. + + II + + So they boast them, the monstrous host whose menace mocks at the + dawn: and here + They that wait at the wild sea's gate, and watch the darkness of + doom draw near, + How shall they in their evil day sustain the strength of their + hearts for fear? + + Full July in the fervent sky sets forth her twentieth of changing + morns: + Winds fall mild that of late waxed wild: no presage whispers or + wails or warns: + Far to west on the bland sea's breast a sailing crescent uprears + her horns. + + Seven wide miles the serene sea smiles between them stretching from + rim to rim: + Soft they shine, but a darker sign should bid not hope or belief + wax dim: + God's are these men, and not the sea's: their trust is set not on + her but him. + + God's? but who is the God whereto the prayers and incense of these + men rise? + What is he, that the wind and sea should fear him, quelled by his + sunbright eyes? + What, that men should return again, and hail him Lord of the + servile skies? + + Hell's own flame at his heavenly name leaps higher and laughs, and + its gulfs rejoice: + Plague and death from his baneful breath take life and lighten, and + praise his choice: + Chosen are they to devour for prey the tribes that hear not and + fear his voice. + + Ay, but we that the wind and sea gird round with shelter of storms + and waves + Know not him that ye worship, grim as dreams that quicken from dead + men's graves: + God is one with the sea, the sun, the land that nursed us, the love + that saves. + + Love whose heart is in ours, and part of all things noble and all + things fair; + Sweet and free as the circling sea, sublime and kind as the + fostering air; + Pure of shame as is England's name, whose crowns to come are as + crowns that were. + + + IV + + I + + But the Lord of darkness, the God whose love is a flaming fire, + The master whose mercy fulfils wide hell till its torturers tire, + He shall surely have heed of his servants who serve him for love, + not hire. + + They shall fetter the wing of the wind whose pinions are plumed + with foam: + For now shall thy horn be exalted, and now shall thy bolt strike + home; + Yea, now shall thy kingdom come, Lord God of the priests of Rome. + + They shall cast thy curb on the waters, and bridle the waves of the + sea: + They shall say to her, Peace, be still: and stillness and peace + shall be: + And the winds and the storms shall hear them, and tremble, and + worship thee. + + Thy breath shall darken the morning, and wither the mounting sun; + And the daysprings, frozen and fettered, shall know thee, and cease + to run; + The heart of the world shall feel thee, and die, and thy will be + done. + + The spirit of man that would sound thee, and search out causes of + things, + Shall shrink and subside and praise thee: and wisdom, with + plume-plucked wings, + Shall cower at thy feet and confess thee, that none may fathom thy + springs. + + The fountains of song that await but the wind of an April to be + To burst the bonds of the winter, and speak with the sound of a + sea, + The blast of thy mouth shall quench them: and song shall be only of + thee. + + The days that are dead shall quicken, the seasons that were shall + return; + And the streets and the pastures of England, the woods that burgeon + and yearn, + Shall be whitened with ashes of women and children and men that + burn. + + For the mother shall burn with the babe sprung forth of her womb in + fire, + And bride with bridegroom, and brother with sister, and son with + sire; + And the noise of the flames shall be sweet in thine ears as the + sound of a lyre. + + Yea, so shall thy kingdom be stablished, and so shall the signs of + it be: + And the world shall know, and the wind shall speak, and the sun + shall see, + That these are the works of thy servants, whose works bear witness + to thee. + + II + + But the dusk of the day falls fruitless, whose light should have + lit them on: + Sails flash through the gloom to shoreward, eclipsed as the sun + that shone: + And the west wind wakes with dawn, and the hope that was here is + gone. + + Around they wheel and around, two knots to the Spaniard's one, + The wind-swift warriors of England, who shoot as with shafts of the + sun, + With fourfold shots for the Spaniard's, that spare not till day be + done. + + And the wind with the sundown sharpens, and hurtles the ships to + the lee, + And Spaniard on Spaniard smites, and shatters, and yields; and we, + Ere battle begin, stand lords of the battle, acclaimed of the sea. + + And the day sweeps round to the nightward; and heavy and hard the + waves + Roll in on the herd of the hurtling galleons; and masters and + slaves + Reel blind in the grasp of the dark strong wind that shall dig + their graves. + + For the sepulchres hollowed and shaped of the wind in the swerve of + the seas, + The graves that gape for their pasture, and laugh, thrilled through + by the breeze, + The sweet soft merciless waters, await and are fain of these. + + As the hiss of a Python heaving in menace of doom to be + They hear through the clear night round them, whose hours are as + clouds that flee, + The whisper of tempest sleeping, the heave and the hiss of the sea. + + But faith is theirs, and with faith are they girded and helmed and + shod: + Invincible are they, almighty, elect for a sword and a rod; + Invincible even as their God is omnipotent, infinite, God. + + In him is their strength, who have sworn that his glory shall wax + not dim: + In his name are their war-ships hallowed as mightiest of all that + swim: + The men that shall cope with these, and conquer, shall cast out + him. + + In him is the trust of their hearts; the desire of their eyes is + he; + The light of their ways, made lightning for men that would fain be + free: + Earth's hosts are with them, and with them is heaven: but with us + is the sea. + + + V + + I + + And a day and a night pass over; + And the heart of their chief swells high; + For England, the warrior, the rover, + Whose banners on all winds fly, + Soul-stricken, he saith, by the shadow of death, holds off him, and + draws not nigh. + + And the wind and the dawn together + Make in from the gleaming east: + And fain of the wild glad weather + As famine is fain of feast, + And fain of the fight, forth sweeps in its might the host of the + Lord's high priest. + + And lightly before the breeze + The ships of his foes take wing: + Are they scattered, the lords of the seas? + Are they broken, the foes of the king? + And ever now higher as a mounting fire the hopes of the Spaniard + spring. + + And a windless night comes down: + And a breezeless morning, bright + With promise of praise to crown + The close of the crowning fight, + Leaps up as the foe's heart leaps, and glows with lustrous rapture + of light. + + And stinted of gear for battle + The ships of the sea's folk lie, + Unwarlike, herded as cattle, + Six miles from the foeman's eye + That fastens as flame on the sight of them tame and offenceless, + and ranged as to die. + + Surely the souls in them quail, + They are stricken and withered at heart, + When in on them, sail by sail, + Fierce marvels of monstrous art, + Tower darkening on tower till the sea-winds cower crowds down as to + hurl them apart. + + And the windless weather is kindly, + And comforts the host in these; + And their hearts are uplift in them blindly, + And blindly they boast at ease + That the next day's fight shall exalt them, and smite with + destruction the lords of the seas. + + II + + And lightly the proud hearts prattle, + And lightly the dawn draws nigh, + The dawn of the doom of the battle + When these shall falter and fly; + No day more great in the roll of fate filled ever with fire the + sky. + + To fightward they go as to feastward, + And the tempest of ships that drive + Sets eastward ever and eastward, + Till closer they strain and strive; + And the shots that rain on the hulls of Spain are as thunders afire + and alive. + + And about them the blithe sea smiles + And flashes to windward and lee + Round capes and headlands and isles + That heed not if war there be; + Round Sark, round Wight, green jewels of light in the ring of the + golden sea. + + But the men that within them abide + Are stout of spirit and stark + As rocks that repel the tide, + As day that repels the dark; + And the light bequeathed from their swords unsheathed shines lineal + on Wight and on Sark. + + And eastward the storm sets ever, + The storm of the sails that strain + And follow and close and sever + And lose and return and gain; + And English thunder divides in sunder the holds of the ships of + Spain. + + Southward to Calais, appalled + And astonished, the vast fleet veers; + And the skies are shrouded and palled, + But the moonless midnight hears + And sees how swift on them drive and drift strange flames that the + darkness fears. + + They fly through the night from shoreward, + Heart-stricken till morning break, + And ever to scourge them forward + Drives down on them England's Drake, + And hurls them in as they hurtle and spin and stagger, with storm + to wake. + + + VI + + I + + And now is their time come on them. For eastward they drift and + reel, + With the shallows of Flanders ahead, with destruction and havoc + at heel, + With God for their comfort only, the God whom they serve; and + here + Their Lord, of his great loving-kindness, may revel and make + good cheer; + Though ever his lips wax thirstier with drinking, and hotter the + lusts in him swell; + For he feeds the thirst that consumes him with blood, and his + winepress fumes with the reek of hell. + + II + + Fierce noon beats hard on the battle; the galleons that loom to + the lee + Bow down, heel over, uplifting their shelterless hulls from the + sea: + From scuppers aspirt with blood, from guns dismounted and dumb, + The signs of the doom they looked for, the loud mute witnesses + come. + They press with sunset to seaward for comfort: and shall not they + find it there? + O servants of God most high, shall his winds not pass you by, and + his waves not spare? + + III + + The wings of the south-west wind are widened; the breath of his + fervent lips, + More keen than a sword's edge, fiercer than fire, falls full on the + plunging ships. + The pilot is he of their northward flight, their stay and their + steersman he; + A helmsman clothed with the tempest, and girdled with strength to + constrain the sea. + And the host of them trembles and quails, caught fast in his hand + as a bird in the toils; + For the wrath and the joy that fulfil him are mightier than man's, + whom he slays and spoils. + And vainly, with heart divided in sunder, and labour of wavering + will, + The lord of their host takes counsel with hope if haply their star + shine still, + If haply some light be left them of chance to renew and redeem the + fray; + But the will of the black south-wester is lord of the councils of + war to-day. + One only spirit it quells not, a splendour undarkened of chance or + time; + Be the praise of his foes with Oquendo for ever, a name as a star + sublime. + But here what aid in a hero's heart, what help in his hand may be? + For ever the dark wind whitens and blackens the hollows and heights + of the sea, + And galley by galley, divided and desolate, founders; and none + takes heed, + Nor foe nor friend, if they perish; forlorn, cast off in their + uttermost need, + They sink in the whelm of the waters, as pebbles by children from + shoreward hurled, + In the North Sea's waters that end not, nor know they a bourn but + the bourn of the world. + Past many a secure unavailable harbour, and many a loud stream's + mouth, + Past Humber and Tees and Tyne and Tweed, they fly, scourged on from + the south, + And torn by the scourge of the storm-wind that smites as a harper + smites on a lyre, + And consumed of the storm as the sacrifice loved of their God is + consumed with fire, + And devoured of the darkness as men that are slain in the fires of + his love are devoured, + And deflowered of their lives by the storms, as by priests is the + spirit of life deflowered. + For the wind, of its godlike mercy, relents not, and hounds them + ahead to the north, + With English hunters at heel, till now is the herd of them past the + Forth, + All huddled and hurtled seaward; and now need none wage war upon + these, + Nor huntsmen follow the quarry whose fall is the pastime sought of + the seas. + Day upon day upon day confounds them, with measureless mists that + swell, + With drift of rains everlasting and dense as the fumes of ascending + hell. + The visions of priest and of prophet beholding his enemies bruised + of his rod + Beheld but the likeness of this that is fallen on the faithful, the + friends of God. + Northward, and northward, and northward they stagger and shudder + and swerve and flit, + Dismantled of masts and of yards, with sails by the fangs of the + storm-wind split. + But north of the headland whose name is Wrath, by the wrath or the + ruth of the sea, + They are swept or sustained to the westward, and drive through the + rollers aloof to the lee. + Some strive yet northward for Iceland, and perish: but some through + the storm-hewn straits + That sunder the Shetlands and Orkneys are borne of the breath which + is God's or fate's: + And some, by the dawn of September, at last give thanks as for + stars that smile, + For the winds have swept them to shelter and sight of the cliffs of + a Catholic isle. + Though many the fierce rocks feed on, and many the merciless + heretic slays, + Yet some that have laboured to land with their treasure are + trustful, and give God praise. + And the kernes of murderous Ireland, athirst with a greed + everlasting of blood, + Unslakable ever with slaughter and spoil, rage down as a ravening + flood, + To slay and to flay of their shining apparel their brethren whom + shipwreck spares; + Such faith and such mercy, such love and such manhood, such hands + and such hearts are theirs. + Short shrift to her foes gives England, but shorter doth Ireland to + friends; and worse + Fare they that came with a blessing on treason than they that come + with a curse. + Hacked, harried, and mangled of axes and skenes, three thousand + naked and dead + Bear witness of Catholic Ireland, what sons of what sires at her + breasts are bred. + Winds are pitiful, waves are merciful, tempest and storm are kind: + The waters that smite may spare, and the thunder is deaf, and the + lightning is blind: + Of these perchance at his need may a man, though they know it not, + yet find grace; + But grace, if another be hardened against him, he gets not at this + man's face. + For his ear that hears and his eye that sees the wreck and the wail + of men, + And his heart that relents not within him, but hungers, are like as + the wolf's in his den. + Worthy are these to worship their master, the murderous Lord of + lies, + Who hath given to the pontiff his servant the keys of the pit and + the keys of the skies. + Wild famine and red-shod rapine are cruel, and bitter with blood + are their feasts; + But fiercer than famine and redder than rapine the hands and the + hearts of priests. + God, God bade these to the battle; and here, on a land by his + servants trod, + They perish, a lordly blood-offering, subdued by the hands of the + servants of God. + These also were fed of his priests with faith, with the milk of his + word and the wine; + These too are fulfilled with the spirit of darkness that guided + their quest divine. + And here, cast up from the ravening sea on the mild land's merciful + breast, + This comfort they find of their fellows in worship; this guerdon is + theirs of their quest. + Death was captain, and doom was pilot, and darkness the chart of + their way; + Night and hell had in charge and in keeping the host of the foes of + day. + Invincible, vanquished, impregnable, shattered, a sign to her foes + of fear, + A sign to the world and the stars of laughter, the fleet of the + Lord lies here. + Nay, for none may declare the place of the ruin wherein she lies; + Nay, for none hath beholden the grave whence never a ghost shall + rise. + The fleet of the foemen of England hath found not one but a + thousand graves; + And he that shall number and name them shall number by name and by + tale the waves. + + + VII + + I + + Sixtus, Pope of the Church whose hope takes flight for heaven to + dethrone the sun, + Philip, king that wouldst turn our spring to winter, blasted, + appalled, undone, + Prince and priest, let a mourner's feast give thanks to God for + your conquest won. + + England's heel is upon you: kneel, O priest, O prince, in the dust, + and cry, + "Lord, why thus? art thou wroth with us whose faith was great in + thee, God most high? + Whence is this, that the serpent's hiss derides us? Lord, can thy + pledged word lie? + + "God of hell, are its flames that swell quenched now for ever, + extinct and dead? + Who shall fear thee? or who shall hear the word thy servants who + feared thee said? + Lord, art thou as the dead gods now, whose arm is shortened, whose + rede is read? + + "Yet we thought it was not for nought thy word was given us, to + guard and guide: + Yet we deemed that they had not dreamed who put their trust in + thee. Hast thou lied? + God our Lord, was the sacred sword we drew not drawn on thy + Church's side? + + "England hates thee as hell's own gates; and England triumphs, and + Rome bows down: + England mocks at thee; England's rocks cast off thy servants to + drive and drown: + England loathes thee; and fame betroths and plights with England + her faith for crown. + + "Spain clings fast to thee; Spain, aghast with anguish, cries to + thee; where art thou? + Spain puts trust in thee; lo, the dust that soils and darkens her + prostrate brow! + Spain is true to thy service; who shall raise up Spain for thy + service now? + + "Who shall praise thee, if none may raise thy servants up, nor + affright thy foes? + Winter wanes, and the woods and plains forget the likeness of + storms and snows: + So shall fear of thee fade even here: and what shall follow thee no + man knows." + + Lords of night, who would breathe your blight on April's morning + and August's noon, + God your Lord, the condemned, the abhorred, sinks hellward, smitten + with deathlike swoon: + Death's own dart in his hateful heart now thrills, and night shall + receive him soon. + + God the Devil, thy reign of revel is here for ever eclipsed and + fled: + God the Liar, everlasting fire lays hold at last on thee, hand and + head: + God the Accurst, the consuming thirst that burns thee never shall + here be fed. + + II + + England, queen of the waves whose green inviolate girdle enrings + thee round, + Mother fair as the morning, where is now the place of thy foemen + found? + Still the sea that salutes us free proclaims them stricken, + acclaims thee crowned. + + Times may change, and the skies grow strange with signs of treason + and fraud and fear: + Foes in union of strange communion may rise against thee from far + and near: + Sloth and greed on thy strength may feed as cankers waxing from + year to year. + + Yet, though treason and fierce unreason should league and lie and + defame and smite, + We that know thee, how far below thee the hatred burns of the sons + of night, + We that love thee, behold above thee the witness written of life in + light. + + Life that shines from thee shows forth signs that none may read not + but eyeless foes: + Hate, born blind, in his abject mind grows hopeful now but as + madness grows: + Love, born wise, with exultant eyes adores thy glory, beholds and + glows. + + Truth is in thee, and none may win thee to lie, forsaking the face + of truth: + Freedom lives by the grace she gives thee, born again from thy + deathless youth: + Faith should fail, and the world turn pale, wert thou the prey of + the serpent's tooth. + + Greed and fraud, unabashed, unawed, may strive to sting thee at + heel in vain: + Craft and fear and mistrust may leer and mourn and murmur and plead + and plain: + Thou art thou: and thy sunbright brow is hers that blasted the + strength of Spain. + + Mother, mother beloved, none other could claim in place of thee + England's place: + Earth bears none that beholds the sun so pure of record, so clothed + with grace: + Dear our mother, nor son nor brother is thine, as strong or as fair + of face. + + How shalt thou be abased? or how shall fear take hold of thy heart? + of thine, + England, maiden immortal, laden with charge of life and with hopes + divine? + Earth shall wither, when eyes turned hither behold not light in her + darkness shine. + + England, none that is born thy son, and lives, by grace of thy + glory, free, + Lives and yearns not at heart and burns with hope to serve as he + worships thee; + None may sing thee: the sea-wind's wing beats down our songs as it + hails the sea. + + + + + TO A SEAMEW + + + When I had wings, my brother, + Such wings were mine as thine: + Such life my heart remembers + In all as wild Septembers + As this when life seems other, + Though sweet, than once was mine; + When I had wings, my brother, + Such wings were mine as thine. + + Such life as thrills and quickens + The silence of thy flight, + Or fills thy note's elation + With lordlier exultation + Than man's, whose faint heart sickens + With hopes and fears that blight + Such life as thrills and quickens + The silence of thy flight. + + Thy cry from windward clanging + Makes all the cliffs rejoice; + Though storm clothe seas with sorrow, + Thy call salutes the morrow; + While shades of pain seem hanging + Round earth's most rapturous voice, + Thy cry from windward clanging + Makes all the cliffs rejoice. + + We, sons and sires of seamen, + Whose home is all the sea, + What place man may, we claim it; + But thine--whose thought may name it? + Free birds live higher than freemen, + And gladlier ye than we-- + We, sons and sires of seamen, + Whose home is all the sea. + + For you the storm sounds only + More notes of more delight + Than earth's in sunniest weather: + When heaven and sea together + Join strengths against the lonely + Lost bark borne down by night, + For you the storm sounds only + More notes of more delight. + + With wider wing, and louder + Long clarion-call of joy, + Thy tribe salutes the terror + Of darkness, wild as error, + But sure as truth, and prouder + Than waves with man for toy; + With wider wing, and louder + Long clarion-call of joy. + + The wave's wing spreads and flutters, + The wave's heart swells and breaks; + One moment's passion thrills it, + One pulse of power fulfils it + And ends the pride it utters + When, loud with life that quakes, + The wave's wing spreads and flutters, + The wave's heart swells and breaks. + + But thine and thou, my brother, + Keep heart and wing more high + Than aught may scare or sunder; + The waves whose throats are thunder + Fall hurtling each on other, + And triumph as they die; + But thine and thou, my brother, + Keep heart and wing more high. + + More high than wrath or anguish, + More strong than pride or fear, + The sense or soul half hidden + In thee, for us forbidden, + Bids thee nor change nor languish, + But live thy life as here, + More high than wrath or anguish, + More strong than pride or fear. + + We are fallen, even we, whose passion + On earth is nearest thine; + Who sing, and cease from flying; + Who live, and dream of dying: + Grey time, in time's grey fashion, + Bids wingless creatures pine: + We are fallen, even we, whose passion + On earth is nearest thine. + + The lark knows no such rapture, + Such joy no nightingale, + As sways the songless measure + Wherein thy wings take pleasure: + Thy love may no man capture, + Thy pride may no man quail; + The lark knows no such rapture, + Such joy no nightingale. + + And we, whom dreams embolden, + We can but creep and sing + And watch through heaven's waste hollow + The flight no sight may follow + To the utter bourne beholden + Of none that lack thy wing: + And we, whom dreams embolden, + We can but creep and sing. + + Our dreams have wings that falter, + Our hearts bear hopes that die; + For thee no dream could better + A life no fears may fetter, + A pride no care can alter, + That wots not whence or why + Our dreams have wings that falter, + Our hearts bear hopes that die. + + With joy more fierce and sweeter + Than joys we deem divine + Their lives, by time untarnished, + Are girt about and garnished, + Who match the wave's full metre + And drink the wind's wild wine + With joy more fierce and sweeter + Than joys we deem divine. + + Ah, well were I for ever, + Wouldst thou change lives with me, + And take my song's wild honey, + And give me back thy sunny + Wide eyes that weary never, + And wings that search the sea; + Ah, well were I for ever, + Wouldst thou change lives with me. + + _Beachy Head: September 1886._ + + + + + PAN AND THALASSIUS + + A LYRICAL IDYL + + + THALASSIUS + + Pan! + + + PAN + + O sea-stray, seed of Apollo, + What word wouldst thou have with me? + My ways thou wast fain to follow + Or ever the years hailed thee + Man. + + Now + If August brood on the valleys, + If satyrs laugh on the lawns, + What part in the wildwood alleys + Hast thou with the fleet-foot fauns-- + Thou? + + See! + Thy feet are a man's--not cloven + Like these, not light as a boy's: + The tresses and tendrils inwoven + That lure us, the lure of them cloys + Thee. + + Us + The joy of the wild woods never + Leaves free of the thirst it slakes: + The wild love throbs in us ever + That burns in the dense hot brakes + Thus. + + Life, + Eternal, passionate, awless, + Insatiable, mutable, dear, + Makes all men's law for us lawless: + We strive not: how should we fear + Strife? + + We, + The birds and the bright winds know not + Such joys as are ours in the mild + Warm woodland; joys such as grow not + In waste green fields of the wild + Sea. + + No; + Long since, in the world's wind veering, + Thy heart was estranged from me: + Sweet Echo shall yield thee not hearing: + What have we to do with thee? + Go. + + + THALASSIUS + + Ay! + Such wrath on thy nostril quivers + As once in Sicilian heat + Bade herdsmen quail, and the rivers + Shrank, leaving a path for thy feet + Dry? + + Nay, + Low down in the hot soft hollow + Too snakelike hisses thy spleen: + "O sea-stray, seed of Apollo!" + What ill hast thou heard or seen? + Say. + + Man + Knows well, if he hears beside him + The snarl of thy wrath at noon, + What evil may soon betide him, + Or late, if thou smite not soon, + Pan. + + Me + The sound of thy flute, that flatters + The woods as they smile and sigh, + Charmed fast as it charms thy satyrs, + Can charm no faster than I + Thee. + + Fast + Thy music may charm the splendid + Wide woodland silence to sleep + With sounds and dreams of thee blended + And whispers of waters that creep + Past. + + Here + The spell of thee breathes and passes + And bids the heart in me pause, + Hushed soft as the leaves and the grasses + Are hushed if the storm's foot draws + Near. + + Yet + The panic that strikes down strangers + Transgressing thy ways unaware + Affrights not me nor endangers + Through dread of thy secret snare + Set. + + + PAN + + Whence + May man find heart to deride me? + Who made his face as a star + To shine as a God's beside me? + Nay, get thee away from us, far + Hence. + + + THALASSIUS + + Then + Shall no man's heart, as he raises + A hymn to thy secret head, + Wax great with the godhead he praises: + Thou, God, shalt be like unto dead + Men. + + + PAN + + Grace + I take not of men's thanksgiving, + I crave not of lips that live; + They die, and behold, I am living, + While they and their dead Gods give + Place. + + + THALASSIUS + + Yea: + Too lightly the words were spoken + That mourned or mocked at thee dead: + But whose was the word, the token, + The song that answered and said + Nay? + + + PAN + + Whose + But mine, in the midnight hidden, + Clothed round with the strength of night + And mysteries of things forbidden + For all but the one most bright + Muse? + + + THALASSIUS + + Hers + Or thine, O Pan, was the token + That gave back empire to thee + When power in thy hands lay broken + As reeds that quake if a bee + Stirs? + + + PAN + + Whom + Have I in my wide woods need of? + Urania's limitless eyes + Behold not mine end, though they read of + A word that shall speak to the skies + Doom. + + + THALASSIUS + + She + Gave back to thee kingdom and glory, + And grace that was thine of yore, + And life to thy leaves, late hoary + As weeds cast up from the hoar + Sea. + + Song + Can bid faith shine as the morning + Though light in the world be none: + Death shrinks if her tongue sound warning, + Night quails, and beholds the sun + Strong. + + + PAN + + Night + Bare rule over men for ages + Whose worship wist not of me + And gat but sorrows for wages, + And hardly for tears could see + Light. + + Call + No more on the starry presence + Whose light through the long dark swam: + Hold fast to the green world's pleasance: + For I that am lord of it am + All. + + + THALASSIUS + + God, + God Pan, from the glad wood's portal + The breaths of thy song blow sweet: + But woods may be walked in of mortal + Man's thought, where never thy feet + Trod. + + Thine + All secrets of growth and of birth are, + All glories of flower and of tree, + Wheresoever the wonders of earth are; + The words of the spell of the sea + Mine. + + + + + A BALLAD OF BATH + + + Like a queen enchanted who may not laugh or weep, + Glad at heart and guarded from change and care like ours, + Girt about with beauty by days and nights that creep + Soft as breathless ripples that softly shoreward sweep, + Lies the lovely city whose grace no grief deflowers. + Age and grey forgetfulness, time that shifts and veers, + Touch not thee, our fairest, whose charm no rival nears, + Hailed as England's Florence of one whose praise gives grace, + Landor, once thy lover, a name that love reveres: + Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face. + + Dawn whereof we know not, and noon whose fruit we reap, + Garnered up in record of years that fell like flowers, + Sunset liker sunrise along the shining steep + Whence thy fair face lightens, and where thy soft springs leap, + Crown at once and gird thee with grace of guardian powers + Loved of men beloved of us, souls that fame inspheres, + All thine air hath music for him who dreams and hears; + Voices mixed of multitudes, feet of friends that pace, + Witness why for ever, if heaven's face clouds or clears, + Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face. + + Peace hath here found harbourage mild as very sleep: + Not the hills and waters, the fields and wildwood bowers, + Smile or speak more tenderly, clothed with peace more deep, + Here than memory whispers of days our memories keep + Fast with love and laughter and dreams of withered hours. + Bright were these as blossom of old, and thought endears + Still the fair soft phantoms that pass with smiles or tears, + Sweet as roseleaves hoarded and dried wherein we trace + Still the soul and spirit of sense that lives and cheers: + Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face. + + City lulled asleep by the chime of passing years, + Sweeter smiles thy rest than the radiance round thy peers; + Only love and lovely remembrance here have place. + Time on thee lies lighter than music on men's ears; + Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face. + + + + + IN A GARDEN + + + Baby, see the flowers! + --Baby sees + Fairer things than these, + Fairer though they be than dreams of ours. + + Baby, hear the birds! + --Baby knows + Better songs than those, + Sweeter though they sound than sweetest words. + + Baby, see the moon! + --Baby's eyes + Laugh to watch it rise, + Answering light with love and night with noon. + + Baby, hear the sea! + --Baby's face + Takes a graver grace, + Touched with wonder what the sound may be. + + Baby, see the star! + --Baby's hand + Opens, warm and bland, + Calm in claim of all things fair that are. + + Baby, hear the bells! + --Baby's head + Bows, as ripe for bed, + Now the flowers curl round and close their cells. + + Baby, flower of light, + Sleep, and see + Brighter dreams than we, + Till good day shall smile away good night. + + + + + A RHYME + + + Babe, if rhyme be none + For that sweet small word + Babe, the sweetest one + Ever heard, + + Right it is and meet + Rhyme should keep not true + Time with such a sweet + Thing as you. + + Meet it is that rhyme + Should not gain such grace: + What is April's prime + To your face? + + What to yours is May's + Rosiest smile? what sound + Like your laughter sways + All hearts round? + + None can tell in metre + Fit for ears on earth + What sweet star grew sweeter + At your birth. + + Wisdom doubts what may be: + Hope, with smile sublime, + Trusts: but neither, baby, + Knows the rhyme. + + Wisdom lies down lonely; + Hope keeps watch from far; + None but one seer only + Sees the star. + + Love alone, with yearning + Heart for astrolabe, + Takes the star's height, burning + O'er the babe. + + + + + BABY-BIRD + + + Baby-bird, baby-bird, + Ne'er a song on earth + May be heard, may be heard, + Rich as yours in mirth. + + All your flickering fingers, + All your twinkling toes, + Play like light that lingers + Till the clear song close. + + Baby-bird, baby-bird, + Your grave majestic eyes + Like a bird's warbled words + Speak, and sorrow dies. + + Sorrow dies for love's sake, + Love grows one with mirth, + Even for one white dove's sake, + Born a babe on earth. + + Baby-bird, baby-bird, + Chirping loud and long, + Other birds hush their words, + Hearkening toward your song. + + Sweet as spring though it ring, + Full of love's own lures, + Weak and wrong sounds their song, + Singing after yours. + + Baby-bird, baby-bird, + The happy heart that hears + Seems to win back within + Heaven, and cast out fears. + + Earth and sun seem as one + Sweet light and one sweet word + Known of none here but one, + Known of one sweet bird. + + + + + OLIVE + + + I + + Who may praise her? + Eyes where midnight shames the sun, + Hair of night and sunshine spun, + Woven of dawn's or twilight's loom, + Radiant darkness, lustrous gloom, + Godlike childhood's flowerlike bloom, + None may praise aright, nor sing + Half the grace wherewith like spring + Love arrays her. + + + II + + Love untold + Sings in silence, speaks in light + Shed from each fair feature, bright + Still from heaven, whence toward us, now + Nine years since, she deigned to bow + Down the brightness of her brow, + Deigned to pass through mortal birth: + Reverence calls her, here on earth, + Nine years old. + + + III + + Love's deep duty, + Even when love transfigured grows + Worship, all too surely knows + How, though love may cast out fear, + Yet the debt divine and dear + Due to childhood's godhead here + May by love of man be paid + Never; never song be made + Worth its beauty. + + + IV + + Nought is all + Sung or said or dreamed or thought + Ever, set beside it; nought + All the love that man may give-- + Love whose prayer should be, "Forgive!" + Heaven, we see, on earth may live; + Earth can thank not heaven, we know, + Save with songs that ebb and flow, + Rise and fall. + + + V + + No man living, + No man dead, save haply one + Now gone homeward past the sun, + Ever found such grace as might + Tune his tongue to praise aright + Children, flowers of love and light, + Whom our praise dispraises: we + Sing, in sooth, but not as he + Sang thanksgiving. + + + VI + + Hope that smiled, + Seeing her new-born beauty, made + Out of heaven's own light and shade, + Smiled not half so sweetly: love, + Seeing the sun, afar above, + Warm the nest that rears the dove, + Sees, more bright than moon or sun, + All the heaven of heavens in one + Little child. + + + VII + + Who may sing her? + Wings of angels when they stir + Make no music worthy her: + Sweeter sound her shy soft words + Here than songs of God's own birds + Whom the fire of rapture girds + Round with light from love's face lit; + Hands of angels find no fit + Gifts to bring her. + + + VIII + + Babes at birth + Wear as raiment round them cast, + Keep as witness toward their past, + Tokens left of heaven; and each, + Ere its lips learn mortal speech, + Ere sweet heaven pass on pass reach, + Bears in undiverted eyes + Proof of unforgotten skies + Here on earth. + + + IX + + Quenched as embers + Quenched with flakes of rain or snow + Till the last faint flame burns low, + All those lustrous memories lie + Dead with babyhood gone by: + Yet in her they dare not die: + Others, fair as heaven is, yet, + Now they share not heaven, forget: + She remembers. + + + + + A WORD WITH THE WIND + + + Lord of days and nights that hear thy word of wintry warning, + Wind, whose feet are set on ways that none may tread, + Change the nest wherein thy wings are fledged for flight by + morning, + Change the harbour whence at dawn thy sails are spread. + Not the dawn, ere yet the imprisoning night has half released her, + More desires the sun's full face of cheer, than we, + Well as yet we love the strength of the iron-tongued north-easter, + Yearn for wind to meet us as we front the sea. + All thy ways are good, O wind, and all the world should fester, + Were thy fourfold godhead quenched, or stilled thy strife: + Yet the waves and we desire too long the deep south-wester, + Whence the waters quicken shoreward, clothed with life. + Yet the field not made for ploughing save of keels nor harrowing + Save of storm-winds lies unbrightened by thy breath: + Banded broad with ruddy samphire glow the sea-banks narrowing + Westward, while the sea gleams chill and still as death. + Sharp and strange from inland sounds thy bitter note of battle, + Blown between grim skies and waters sullen-souled, + Till the baffled seas bear back, rocks roar and shingles rattle, + Vexed and angered and anhungered and acold. + Change thy note, and give the waves their will, and all the + measure, + Full and perfect, of the music of their might, + Let it fill the bays with thunderous notes and throbs of pleasure, + Shake the shores with passion, sound at once and smite. + Sweet are even the mild low notes of wind and sea, but sweeter + Sounds the song whose choral wrath of raging rhyme + Bids the shelving shoals keep tune with storm's imperious metre, + Bids the rocks and reefs respond in rapturous chime. + Sweet the lisp and lulling whisper and luxurious laughter, + Soft as love or sleep, of waves whereon the sun + Dreams, and dreams not of the darkling hours before nor after, + Winged with cloud whose wrath shall bid love's day be done. + Yet shall darkness bring the awakening sea a lordlier lover, + Clothed with strength more amorous and more strenuous will, + Whence her heart of hearts shall kindle and her soul recover + Sense of love too keen to lie for love's sake still. + Let thy strong south-western music sound, and bid the billows + Brighten, proud and glad to feel thy scourge and kiss + Sting and soothe and sway them, bowed as aspens bend or willows, + Yet resurgent still in breathless rage of bliss. + All to-day the slow sleek ripples hardly bear up shoreward, + Charged with sighs more light than laughter, faint and fair, + Like a woodland lake's weak wavelets lightly lingering forward, + Soft and listless as the slumber-stricken air. + Be the sunshine bared or veiled, the sky superb or shrouded, + Still the waters, lax and languid, chafed and foiled, + Keen and thwarted, pale and patient, clothed with fire or clouded, + Vex their heart in vain, or sleep like serpents coiled. + Thee they look for, blind and baffled, wan with wrath and weary, + Blown for ever back by winds that rock the bird: + Winds that seamews breast subdue the sea, and bid the dreary + Waves be weak as hearts made sick with hope deferred. + Let thy clarion sound from westward, let the south bear token + How the glories of thy godhead sound and shine: + Bid the land rejoice to see the land-wind's broad wings broken, + Bid the sea take comfort, bid the world be thine. + Half the world abhors thee beating back the sea, and blackening + Heaven with fierce and woful change of fluctuant form: + All the world acclaims thee shifting sail again, and slackening + Cloud by cloud the close-reefed cordage of the storm. + Sweeter fields and brighter woods and lordlier hills than waken + Here at sunrise never hailed the sun and thee: + Turn thee then, and give them comfort, shed like rain and shaken + Far as foam that laughs and leaps along the sea. + + + + + NEAP-TIDE + + + Far off is the sea, and the land is afar: + The low banks reach at the sky, + Seen hence, and are heavenward high; + Though light for the leap of a boy they are, + And the far sea late was nigh. + + The fair wild fields and the circling downs, + The bright sweet marshes and meads + All glorious with flowerlike weeds, + The great grey churches, the sea-washed towns, + Recede as a dream recedes. + + The world draws back, and the world's light wanes, + As a dream dies down and is dead; + And the clouds and the gleams overhead + Change, and change; and the sea remains, + A shadow of dreamlike dread. + + Wild, and woful, and pale, and grey, + A shadow of sleepless fear, + A corpse with the night for bier, + The fairest thing that beholds the day + Lies haggard and hopeless here. + + And the wind's wings, broken and spent, subside; + And the dumb waste world is hoar, + And strange as the sea the shore; + And shadows of shapeless dreams abide + Where life may abide no more. + + A sail to seaward, a sound from shoreward, + And the spell were broken that seems + To reign in a world of dreams + Where vainly the dreamer's feet make forward + And vainly the low sky gleams. + + The sea-forsaken forlorn deep-wrinkled + Salt slanting stretches of sand + That slope to the seaward hand, + Were they fain of the ripples that flashed and twinkled + And laughed as they struck the strand? + + As bells on the reins of the fairies ring + The ripples that kissed them rang, + The light from the sundawn sprang, + And the sweetest of songs that the world may sing + Was theirs when the full sea sang. + + Now no light is in heaven; and now + Not a note of the sea-wind's tune + Rings hither: the bleak sky's boon + Grants hardly sight of a grey sun's brow-- + A sun more sad than the moon. + + More sad than a moon that clouds beleaguer + And storm is a scourge to smite, + The sick sun's shadowlike light + Grows faint as the clouds and the waves wax eager, + And withers away from sight. + + The day's heart cowers, and the night's heart quickens: + Full fain would the day be dead + And the stark night reign in his stead: + The sea falls dumb as the sea-fog thickens + And the sunset dies for dread. + + Outside of the range of time, whose breath + Is keen as the manslayer's knife + And his peace but a truce for strife, + Who knows if haply the shadow of death + May be not the light of life? + + For the storm and the rain and the darkness borrow + But an hour from the suns to be, + But a strange swift passage, that we + May rejoice, who have mourned not to-day, to-morrow, + In the sun and the wind and the sea. + + + + + BY THE WAYSIDE + + + Summer's face was rosiest, skies and woods were mellow, + Earth had heaven to friend, and heaven had earth to fellow, + When we met where wooded hills and meadows meet. + Autumn's face is pale, and all her late leaves yellow, + Now that here again we greet. + + Wan with years whereof this eightieth nears December, + Fair and bright with love, the kind old face I know + Shines above the sweet small twain whose eyes remember + Heaven, and fill with April's light this pale November, + Though the dark year's glass run low. + + Like a rose whose joy of life her silence utters + When the birds are loud, and low the lulled wind mutters, + Grave and silent shines the boy nigh three years old. + Wise and sweet his smile, that falters not nor flutters, + Glows, and turns the gloom to gold. + + Like the new-born sun's that strikes the dark and slays it, + So that even for love of light it smiles and dies, + Laughs the boy's blithe face whose fair fourth year arrays it + All with light of life and mirth that stirs and sways it + And fulfils the deep wide eyes. + + Wide and warm with glowing laughter's exultation, + Full of welcome, full of sunbright jubilation, + Flash my taller friend's quick eyebeams, charged with glee; + But with softer still and sweeter salutation + Shine my smaller friend's on me. + + Little arms flung round my bending neck, that yoke it + Fast in tender bondage, draw my face down too + Toward the flower-soft face whose dumb deep smiles invoke it; + Dumb, but love can read the radiant eyes that woke it, + Blue as June's mid heaven is blue. + + How may men find refuge, how should hearts be shielded, + From the weapons thus by little children wielded, + When they lift such eyes as light this lustrous face-- + Eyes that woke love sleeping unawares, and yielded + Love for love, a gift of grace, + + Grace beyond man's merit, love that laughs, forgiving + Even the sin of being no more a child, nor worth + Trust and love that lavish gifts above man's giving, + Touch or glance of eyes and lips the sweetest living, + Fair as heaven and kind as earth? + + + + + NIGHT + + + I + + FROM THE ITALIAN OF GIOVANNI STROZZI + + Night, whom in shape so sweet thou here may'st see + Sleeping, was by an Angel sculptured thus + In marble, and since she sleeps hath life like us: + Thou doubt'st? Awake her: she will speak to thee. + + + II + + FROM THE ITALIAN OF MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI + + Sleep likes me well, and better yet to know + I am but stone. While shame and grief must be, + Good hap is mine, to feel not, nor to see: + Take heed, then, lest thou wake me: ah, speak low. + + + + + IN TIME OF MOURNING + + + "Return," we dare not as we fain + Would cry from hearts that yearn: + Love dares not bid our dead again + Return. + + O hearts that strain and burn + As fires fast fettered burn and strain! + Bow down, lie still, and learn. + + The heart that healed all hearts of pain + No funeral rites inurn: + Its echoes, while the stars remain, + Return. + + _May 1885._ + + + + + THE INTERPRETERS + + + I + + Days dawn on us that make amends for many + Sometimes, + When heaven and earth seem sweeter even than any + Man's rhymes. + + Light had not all been quenched in France, or quelled + In Greece, + Had Homer sung not, or had Hugo held + His peace. + + Had Sappho's self not left her word thus long + For token, + The sea round Lesbos yet in waves of song + Had spoken. + + + II + + And yet these days of subtler air and finer + Delight, + When lovelier looks the darkness, and diviner + The light-- + + The gift they give of all these golden hours, + Whose urn + Pours forth reverberate rays or shadowing showers + In turn-- + + Clouds, beams, and winds that make the live day's track + Seem living-- + What were they did no spirit give them back + Thanksgiving? + + + III + + Dead air, dead fire, dead shapes and shadows, telling + Time nought; + Man gives them sense and soul by song, and dwelling + In thought. + + In human thought their being endures, their power + Abides: + Else were their life a thing that each light hour + Derides. + + The years live, work, sigh, smile, and die, with all + They cherish; + The soul endures, though dreams that fed it fall + And perish. + + + IV + + In human thought have all things habitation; + Our days + Laugh, lower, and lighten past, and find no station + That stays. + + But thought and faith are mightier things than time + Can wrong, + Made splendid once with speech, or made sublime + By song. + + Remembrance, though the tide of change that rolls + Wax hoary, + Gives earth and heaven, for song's sake and the soul's, + Their glory. + + _July 16, 1885._ + + + + + THE RECALL + + + Return, they cry, ere yet your day + Set, and the sky grow stern: + Return, strayed souls, while yet ye may + Return. + + But heavens beyond us yearn; + Yea, heights of heaven above the sway + Of stars that eyes discern. + + The soul whose wings from shoreward stray + Makes toward her viewless bourne + Though trustless faith and unfaith say, + Return. + + + + + BY TWILIGHT + + + If we dream that desire of the distance above us + Should be fettered by fear of the shadows that seem, + If we wake, to be nought, but to hate or to love us + If we dream, + + Night sinks on the soul, and the stars as they gleam + Speak menace or mourning, with tongues to reprove us + That we deemed of them better than terror may deem. + + But if hope may not lure us, if fear may not move us, + Thought lightens the darkness wherein the supreme + Pure presence of death shall assure us, and prove us + If we dream. + + + + + A BABY'S EPITAPH + + + April made me: winter laid me here away asleep. + Bright as Maytime was my daytime; night is soft and deep: + Though the morrow bring forth sorrow, well are ye that weep. + + Ye that held me dear beheld me not a twelvemonth long: + All the while ye saw me smile, ye knew not whence the song + Came that made me smile, and laid me here, and wrought you wrong. + + Angels, calling from your brawling world one undefiled, + Homeward bade me, and forbade me here to rest beguiled: + Here I sleep not: pass, and weep not here upon your child. + + + + + ON THE DEATH OF SIR HENRY TAYLOR + + + Fourscore and five times has the gradual year + Risen and fulfilled its days of youth and eld + Since first the child's eyes opening first beheld + Light, who now leaves behind to help us here + Light shed from song as starlight from a sphere + Serene as summer; song whose charm compelled + The sovereign soul made flesh in Artevelde + To stand august before us and austere, + Half sad with mortal knowledge, all sublime + With trust that takes no taint from change or time, + Trust in man's might of manhood. Strong and sage, + Clothed round with reverence of remembering hearts, + He, twin-born with our nigh departing age, + Into the light of peace and fame departs. + + + + + IN MEMORY OF JOHN WILLIAM INCHBOLD + + + Farewell: how should not such as thou fare well, + Though we fare ill that love thee, and that live, + And know, whate'er the days wherein we dwell + May give us, thee again they will not give? + + Peace, rest, and sleep are all we know of death, + And all we dream of comfort: yet for thee, + Whose breath of life was bright and strenuous breath, + We think the change is other than we see. + + The seal of sleep set on thine eyes to-day + Surely can seal not up the keen swift light + That lit them once for ever. Night can slay + None save the children of the womb of night. + + The fire that burns up dawn to bring forth noon + Was father of thy spirit: how shouldst thou + Die as they die for whom the sun and moon + Are silent? Thee the darkness holds not now: + + Them, while they looked upon the light, and deemed + That life was theirs for living in the sun, + The darkness held in bondage: and they dreamed, + Who knew not that such life as theirs was none. + + To thee the sun spake, and the morning sang + Notes deep and clear as life or heaven: the sea + That sounds for them but wild waste music rang + Notes that were lost not when they rang for thee. + + The mountains clothed with light and night and change, + The lakes alive with wind and cloud and sun, + Made answer, by constraint sublime and strange, + To the ardent hand that bade thy will be done. + + We may not bid the mountains mourn, the sea + That lived and lightened from thine hand again + Moan, as of old would men that mourned as we + A man beloved, a man elect of men, + + A man that loved them. Vain, divine and vain, + The dream that touched with thoughts or tears of ours + The spirit of sense that lives in sun and rain, + Sings out in birds, and breathes and fades in flowers. + + Not for our joy they live, and for our grief + They die not. Though thine eye be closed, thine hand + Powerless as mine to paint them, not a leaf + In English woods or glades of Switzerland + + Falls earlier now, fades faster. All our love + Moves not our mother's changeless heart, who gives + A little light to eyes and stars above, + A little life to each man's heart that lives. + + A little life to heaven and earth and sea, + To stars and souls revealed of night and day, + And change, the one thing changeless: yet shall she + Cease too, perchance, and perish. Who shall say? + + Our mother Nature, dark and sweet as sleep, + And strange as life and strong as death, holds fast, + Even as she holds our hearts alive, the deep + Dumb secret of her first-born births and last. + + But this, we know, shall cease not till the strife + Of nights and days and fears and hopes find end; + This, through the brief eternities of life, + Endures, and calls from death a living friend; + + The love made strong with knowledge, whence confirmed + The whole soul takes assurance, and the past + (So by time's measure, not by memory's, termed) + Lives present life, and mingles first with last. + + I, now long since thy guest of many days, + Who found thy hearth a brother's, and with thee + Tracked in and out the lines of rolling bays + And banks and gulfs and reaches of the sea-- + + Deep dens wherein the wrestling water sobs + And pants with restless pain of refluent breath + Till all the sunless hollow sounds and throbs + With ebb and flow of eddies dark as death-- + + I know not what more glorious world, what waves + More bright with life,--if brighter aught may live + Than those that filled and fled their tidal caves-- + May now give back the love thou hast to give. + + Tintagel, and the long Trebarwith sand, + Lone Camelford, and Boscastle divine + With dower of southern blossom, bright and bland + Above the roar of granite-baffled brine, + + Shall hear no more by joyous night or day + From downs or causeways good to rove and ride + Or feet of ours or horse-hoofs urge their way + That sped us here and there by tower and tide. + + The headlands and the hollows and the waves, + For all our love, forget us: where I am + Thou art not: deeper sleeps the shadow on graves + Than in the sunless gulf that once we swam. + + Thou hast swum too soon the sea of death: for us + Too soon, but if truth bless love's blind belief + Faith, born of hope and memory, says not thus: + And joy for thee for me should mean not grief. + + And joy for thee, if ever soul of man + Found joy in change and life of ampler birth + Than here pens in the spirit for a span, + Must be the life that doubt calls death on earth. + + For if, beyond the shadow and the sleep, + A place there be for souls without a stain, + Where peace is perfect, and delight more deep + Than seas or skies that change and shine again, + + There none of all unsullied souls that live + May hold a surer station: none may lend + More light to hope's or memory's lamp, nor give + More joy than thine to those that called thee friend. + + Yea, joy from sorrow's barren womb is born + When faith begets on grief the godlike child: + As midnight yearns with starry sense of morn + In Arctic summers, though the sea wax wild, + + So love, whose name is memory, thrills at heart, + Remembering and rejoicing in thee, now + Alive where love may dream not what thou art + But knows that higher than hope or love art thou. + + "Whatever heaven, if heaven at all may be, + Await the sacred souls of good men dead, + There, now we mourn who loved him here, is he," + So, sweet and stern of speech, the Roman said, + + Erect in grief, in trust erect, and gave + His deathless dead a deathless life even here + Where day bears down on day as wave on wave + And not man's smile fades faster than his tear. + + Albeit this gift be given not me to give, + Nor power be mine to break time's silent spell, + Not less shall love that dies not while I live + Bid thee, beloved in life and death, farewell. + + + + + NEW YEAR'S DAY + + + New Year, be good to England. Bid her name + Shine sunlike as of old on all the sea: + Make strong her soul: set all her spirit free: + Bind fast her homeborn foes with links of shame + More strong than iron and more keen than flame: + Seal up their lips for shame's sake: so shall she + Who was the light that lightened freedom be, + For all false tongues, in all men's eyes the same. + + O last-born child of Time, earth's eldest lord, + God undiscrowned of godhead, who for man + Begets all good and evil things that live, + Do thou, his new-begotten son, implored + Of hearts that hope and fear not, make thy span + Bright with such light as history bids thee give. + + + _Jan. 1, 1889._ + + + + + TO SIR RICHARD F. BURTON + + (ON HIS TRANSLATION OF "THE ARABIAN NIGHTS") + + + Westward the sun sinks, grave and glad; but far + Eastward, with laughter and tempestuous tears, + Cloud, rain, and splendour as of orient spears, + Keen as the sea's thrill toward a kindling star, + The sundawn breaks the barren twilight's bar + And fires the mist and slays it. Years on years + Vanish, but he that hearkens eastward hears + Bright music from the world where shadows are. + + Where shadows are not shadows. Hand in hand + A man's word bids them rise and smile and stand + And triumph. All that glorious orient glows + Defiant of the dusk. Our twilight land + Trembles; but all the heaven is all one rose, + Whence laughing love dissolves her frosts and snows. + + + + + NELL GWYN + + + Sweet heart, that no taint of the throne or the stage + Could touch with unclean transformation, or alter + To the likeness of courtiers whose consciences falter + At the smile or the frown, at the mirth or the rage, + Of a master whom chance could inflame or assuage, + Our Lady of Laughter, invoked in no psalter, + Adored of no faithful that cringe and that palter, + Praise be with thee yet from a hag-ridden age. + + Our Lady of Pity thou wast: and to thee + All England, whose sons are the sons of the sea, + Gives thanks, and will hear not if history snarls + When the name of the friend of her sailors is spoken; + And thy lover she cannot but love--by the token + That thy name was the last on the lips of King Charles. + + + + + CALIBAN ON ARIEL + + "_His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract_" + + + The tongue is loosed of that most lying slave, + Whom stripes may move, not kindness. Listen: "Lo, + The real god of song, Lord Stephano, + That's a brave god, if ever god were brave, + And bears celestial liquor: but," the knave + (A most ridiculous monster) howls, "we know + From Ariel's lips what springs of poison flow, + The chicken-heart blasphemer! Hear him rave!" + + Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself + Upon thy wicked dam, the witch whose name + Is darkness, and the sun her eyes' offence, + Though hell's hot sewerage breed no loathlier elf, + Men cry not shame upon thee, seeing thy shame + So perfect: they but bid thee--"Hag-seed, hence!" + + + + + THE WEARY WEDDING + + + O daughter, why do ye laugh and weep, + One with another? + For woe to wake and for will to sleep, + Mother, my mother. + + But weep ye winna the day ye wed, + One with another. + For tears are dry when the springs are dead, + Mother, my mother. + + Too long have your tears run down like rain, + One with another. + For a long love lost and a sweet love slain, + Mother, my mother. + + Too long have your tears dripped down like dew, + One with another. + For a knight that my sire and my brethren slew, + Mother, my mother. + + Let past things perish and dead griefs lie, + One with another. + O fain would I weep not, and fain would I die, + Mother, my mother. + + Fair gifts we give ye, to laugh and live, + One with another. + But sair and strange are the gifts I give, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give for your father's love? + One with another. + Fruits full few and thorns enough, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give for your mother's sake? + One with another. + Tears to brew and tares to bake, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your sister Jean? + One with another. + A bier to build and a babe to wean, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your sister Nell? + One with another. + The end of life and beginning of hell, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your sister Kate? + One with another. + Earth's door and hell's gate, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your brother Will? + One with another. + Life's grief and world's ill, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your brother Hugh? + One with another. + A bed of turf to turn into, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your brother John? + One with another. + The dust of death to feed upon, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your bauld bridegroom? + One with another. + A barren bed and an empty room, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your bridegroom's friend? + One with another. + A weary foot to the weary end, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye give your blithe bridesmaid? + One with another. + Grief to sew and sorrow to braid, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye drink the day ye're wed? + One with another. + But ae drink of the wan well-head, + Mother, my mother. + + And whatten a water is that to draw? + One with another. + We maun draw thereof a', we maun drink thereof a', + Mother, my mother. + + And what shall ye pu' where the well rins deep? + One with another. + Green herb of death, fine flower of sleep, + Mother, my mother. + + Are there ony fishes that swim therein? + One with another. + The white fish grace, and the red fish sin, + Mother, my mother. + + Are there ony birds that sing thereby? + One with another. + O when they come thither they sing till they die, + Mother, my mother. + + Is there ony draw-bucket to that well-head? + One with another. + There's a wee well-bucket hangs low by a thread, + Mother, my mother. + + And whatten a thread is that to spin? + One with another. + It's green for grace, and it's black for sin, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye strew on your bride-chamber floor? + One with another. + But one strewing and no more, + Mother, my mother. + + And whatten a strewing shall that one be? + One with another. + The dust of earth and sand of the sea, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye take to build your bed? + One with another. + Sighing and shame and the bones of the dead, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye wear for your wedding gown? + One with another. + Grass for the green and dust for the brown, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye wear for your wedding lace? + One with another. + A heavy heart and a hidden face, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye wear for a wreath to your head? + One with another. + Ash for the white and blood for the red, + Mother, my mother. + + And what will ye wear for your wedding ring? + One with another. + A weary thought for a weary thing, + Mother, my mother. + + And what shall the chimes and the bell-ropes play? + One with another. + A weary tune on a weary day, + Mother, my mother. + + And what shall be sung for your wedding song? + One with another. + A weary word of a weary wrong, + Mother, my mother. + + The world's way with me runs back, + One with another, + Wedded in white and buried in black, + Mother, my mother. + + The world's day and the world's night, + One with another, + Wedded in black and buried in white, + Mother, my mother. + + The world's bliss and the world's teen, + One with another, + It's red for white and it's black for green, + Mother, my mother. + + The world's will and the world's way, + One with another, + It's sighing for night and crying for day, + Mother, my mother. + + The world's good and the world's worth, + One with another, + It's earth to flesh and it's flesh to earth, + Mother, my mother. + + * * * * * + + When she came out at the kirkyard gate, + (One with another) + The bridegroom's mother was there in wait. + (Mother, my mother.) + + O mother, where is my great green bed, + (One with another) + Silk at the foot and gold at the head, + Mother, my mother? + + Yea, it is ready, the silk and the gold, + One with another. + But line it well that I lie not cold, + Mother, my mother. + + She laid her cheek to the velvet and vair, + One with another; + She laid her arms up under her hair. + (Mother, my mother.) + + Her gold hair fell through her arms fu' low, + One with another: + Lord God, bring me out of woe! + (Mother, my mother.) + + Her gold hair fell in the gay reeds green, + One with another: + Lord God, bring me out of teen! + (Mother, my mother.) + + * * * * * + + O mother, where is my lady gone? + (One with another.) + In the bride-chamber she makes sore moan: + (Mother, my mother.) + + Her hair falls over the velvet and vair, + (One with another) + Her great soft tears fall over her hair. + (Mother, my mother.) + + When he came into the bride's chamber, + (One with another) + Her hands were like pale yellow amber. + (Mother, my mother.) + + Her tears made specks in the velvet and vair, + (One with another) + The seeds of the reeds made specks in her hair. + (Mother, my mother.) + + He kissed her under the gold on her head; + (One with another) + The lids of her eyes were like cold lead. + (Mother, my mother.) + + He kissed her under the fall of her chin; + (One with another) + There was right little blood therein. + (Mother, my mother.) + + He kissed her under her shoulder sweet; + (One with another) + Her throat was weak, with little heat. + (Mother, my mother.) + + He kissed her down by her breast-flowers red, + One with another; + They were like river-flowers dead. + (Mother, my mother.) + + What ails you now o' your weeping, wife? + (One with another.) + It ails me sair o' my very life. + (Mother, my mother.) + + What ails you now o' your weary ways? + (One with another.) + It ails me sair o' my long life-days. + (Mother, my mother.) + + Nay, ye are young, ye are over fair. + (One with another.) + Though I be young, what needs ye care? + (Mother, my mother.) + + Nay, ye are fair, ye are over sweet. + (One with another.) + Though I be fair, what needs ye greet? + (Mother, my mother.) + + Nay, ye are mine while I hold my life. + (One with another.) + O fool, will ye marry the worm for a wife? + (Mother, my mother.) + + Nay, ye are mine while I have my breath. + (One with another.) + O fool, will ye marry the dust of death? + (Mother, my mother.) + + Yea, ye are mine, we are handfast wed, + One with another. + Nay, I am no man's; nay, I am dead, + Mother, my mother. + + + + + THE WINDS + + + O weary fa' the east wind, + And weary fa' the west: + And gin I were under the wan waves wide + I wot weel wad I rest. + + O weary fa' the north wind, + And weary fa' the south: + The sea went ower my good lord's head + Or ever he kissed my mouth. + + Weary fa' the windward rocks, + And weary fa' the lee: + They might hae sunken sevenscore ships, + And let my love's gang free. + + And weary fa' ye, mariners a', + And weary fa' the sea: + It might hae taken an hundred men, + And let my ae love be. + + + + + A LYKE-WAKE SONG + + + Fair of face, full of pride, + Sit ye down by a dead man's side. + + Ye sang songs a' the day: + Sit down at night in the red worm's way. + + Proud ye were a' day long: + Ye'll be but lean at evensong. + + Ye had gowd kells on your hair: + Nae man kens what ye were. + + Ye set scorn by the silken stuff: + Now the grave is clean enough. + + Ye set scorn by the rubis ring: + Now the worm is a saft sweet thing. + + Fine gold and blithe fair face, + Ye are come to a grimly place. + + Gold hair and glad grey een, + Nae man kens if ye have been. + + + + + A REIVER'S NECK-VERSE + + + Some die singing, and some die swinging, + And weel mot a' they be: + Some die playing, and some die praying, + And I wot sae winna we, my dear, + And I wot sae winna we. + + Some die sailing, and some die wailing, + And some die fair and free: + Some die flyting, and some die fighting, + But I for a fause love's fee, my dear, + But I for a fause love's fee. + + Some die laughing, and some die quaffing, + And some die high on tree: + Some die spinning, and some die sinning, + But faggot and fire for ye, my dear, + Faggot and fire for ye. + + Some die weeping, and some die sleeping, + And some die under sea: + Some die ganging, and some die hanging, + And a twine of a tow for me, my dear, + A twine of a tow for me. + + + + + THE WITCH-MOTHER + + + "O where will ye gang to and where will ye sleep, + Against the night begins?" + "My bed is made wi' cauld sorrows, + My sheets are lined wi' sins. + + "And a sair grief sitting at my foot, + And a sair grief at my head; + And dule to lay me my laigh pillows, + And teen till I be dead. + + "And the rain is sair upon my face, + And sair upon my hair; + And the wind upon my weary mouth, + That never may man kiss mair. + + "And the snow upon my heavy lips, + That never shall drink nor eat; + And shame to cledding, and woe to wedding, + And pain to drink and meat. + + "But woe be to my bairns' father, + And ever ill fare he: + He has tane a braw bride hame to him, + Cast out my bairns and me." + + "And what shall they have to their marriage meat + This day they twain are wed?" + "Meat of strong crying, salt of sad sighing, + And God restore the dead." + + "And what shall they have to their wedding wine + This day they twain are wed?" + "Wine of weeping, and draughts of sleeping, + And God raise up the dead." + + She's tane her to the wild woodside, + Between the flood and fell: + She's sought a rede against her need + Of the fiend that bides in hell. + + She's tane her to the wan burnside, + She's wrought wi' sang and spell: + She's plighted her soul for doom and dole + To the fiend that bides in hell. + + She's set her young son to her breast, + Her auld son to her knee: + Says, "Weel for you the night, bairnies, + And weel the morn for me." + + She looked fu' lang in their een, sighing, + And sair and sair grat she: + She has slain her young son at her breast, + Her auld son at her knee. + + She's sodden their flesh wi' saft water, + She's mixed their blood with wine: + She's tane her to the braw bride-house, + Where a' were boun' to dine. + + She poured the red wine in his cup, + And his een grew fain to greet: + She set the baked meats at his hand, + And bade him drink and eat. + + Says, "Eat your fill of your flesh, my lord, + And drink your fill of your wine; + For a' thing's yours and only yours + That has been yours and mine." + + Says, "Drink your fill of your wine, my lord, + And eat your fill of your bread: + I would they were quick in my body again, + Or I that bare them dead." + + He struck her head frae her fair body, + And dead for grief he fell: + And there were twae mair sangs in heaven, + And twae mair sauls in hell. + + + + + THE BRIDE'S TRAGEDY + + + "The wind wears roun', the day wears doun, + The moon is grisly grey; + There's nae man rides by the mirk muirsides, + Nor down the dark Tyne's way." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "And winna ye watch the night wi' me, + And winna ye wake the morn? + Foul shame it were that your ae mither + Should brook her ae son's scorn." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "O mither, I may not sleep nor stay, + My weird is ill to dree; + For a fause faint lord of the south seaboard + Wad win my bride of me." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "The winds are strang, and the nights are lang, + And the ways are sair to ride: + And I maun gang to wreak my wrang, + And ye maun bide and bide." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "Gin I maun bide and bide, Willie, + I wot my weird is sair: + Weel may ye get ye a light love yet, + But never a mither mair." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "O gin the morrow be great wi' sorrow, + The wyte be yours of a': + But though ye slay me that haud and stay me, + The weird ye will maun fa'." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + When cocks were crawing and day was dawing, + He's boun' him forth to ride: + And the ae first may he's met that day + Was fause Earl Robert's bride. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + O blithe and braw were the bride-folk a', + But sad and saft rade she; + And sad as doom was her fause bridegroom, + But fair and fain was he. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "And winna ye bide, sae saft ye ride, + And winna ye speak wi' me? + For mony's the word and the kindly word + I have spoken aft wi' thee." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "My lamp was lit yestreen, Willie, + My window-gate was wide: + But ye camena nigh me till day came by me + And made me not your bride." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + He's set his hand to her bridle-rein, + He's turned her horse away: + And the cry was sair, and the wrath was mair, + And fast and fain rode they. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + But when they came by Chollerford, + I wot the ways were fell; + For broad and brown the spate swang down, + And the lift was mirk as hell. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "And will ye ride yon fell water, + Or will ye bide for fear? + Nae scathe ye'll win o' your father's kin, + Though they should slay me here." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "I had liefer ride yon fell water, + Though strange it be to ride, + Than I wad stand on the fair green strand + And thou be slain beside." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "I had liefer swim yon wild water, + Though sair it be to bide, + Than I wad stand at a strange man's hand, + To be a strange man's bride." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + "I had liefer drink yon dark water, + Wi' the stanes to make my bed, + And the faem to hide me, and thou beside me, + Than I wad see thee dead." + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + He's kissed her twice, he's kissed her thrice, + On cheek and lip and chin: + He's wound her rein to his hand again, + And lightly they leapt in. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + Their hearts were high to live or die, + Their steeds were stark of limb: + But the stream was starker, the spate was darker, + Than man might live and swim. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + The first ae step they strode therein, + It smote them foot and knee: + But ere they wan to the mid water + The spate was as the sea. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + But when they wan to the mid water, + It smote them hand and head: + And nae man knows but the wave that flows + Where they lie drowned and dead. + In, in, out and in, + Blaws the wind and whirls the whin. + + + + + A JACOBITE'S FAREWELL + + 1716 + + + There's nae mair lands to tyne, my dear, + And nae mair lives to gie: + Though a man think sair to live nae mair, + There's but one day to die. + + For a' things come and a' days gane, + What needs ye rend your hair? + But kiss me till the morn's morrow, + Then I'll kiss ye nae mair. + + O lands are lost and life's losing, + And what were they to gie? + Fu' mony a man gives all he can, + But nae man else gives ye. + + Our king wons ower the sea's water, + And I in prison sair: + But I'll win out the morn's morrow, + And ye'll see me nae mair. + + + + + A JACOBITE'S EXILE + + 1746 + + + The weary day rins down and dies, + The weary night wears through: + And never an hour is fair wi' flower, + And never a flower wi' dew. + + I would the day were night for me, + I would the night were day: + For then would I stand in my ain fair land, + As now in dreams I may. + + O lordly flow the Loire and Seine, + And loud the dark Durance: + But bonnier shine the braes of Tyne + Than a' the fields of France; + And the waves of Till that speak sae still + Gleam goodlier where they glance. + + O weel were they that fell fighting + On dark Drumossie's day: + They keep their hame ayont the faem, + And we die far away. + + O sound they sleep, and saft, and deep, + But night and day wake we; + And ever between the sea-banks green + Sounds loud the sundering sea. + + And ill we sleep, sae sair we weep, + But sweet and fast sleep they; + And the mool that haps them roun' and laps them + Is e'en their country's clay; + But the land we tread that are not dead + Is strange as night by day. + + Strange as night in a strange man's sight, + Though fair as dawn it be: + For what is here that a stranger's cheer + Should yet wax blithe to see? + + The hills stand steep, the dells lie deep, + The fields are green and gold: + The hill-streams sing, and the hill-sides ring, + As ours at home of old. + + But hills and flowers are nane of ours, + And ours are oversea: + And the kind strange land whereon we stand, + It wotsna what were we + Or ever we came, wi' scathe and shame, + To try what end might be. + + Scathe, and shame, and a waefu' name, + And a weary time and strange, + Have they that seeing a weird for dreeing + Can die, and cannot change. + + Shame and scorn may we thole that mourn, + Though sair be they to dree: + But ill may we bide the thoughts we hide, + Mair keen than wind and sea. + + Ill may we thole the night's watches, + And ill the weary day: + And the dreams that keep the gates of sleep, + A waefu' gift gie they; + For the sangs they sing us, the sights they bring us, + The morn blaws all away. + + On Aikenshaw the sun blinks braw, + The burn rins blithe and fain: + There's nought wi' me I wadna gie + To look thereon again. + + On Keilder-side the wind blaws wide; + There sounds nae hunting-horn + That rings sae sweet as the winds that beat + Round banks where Tyne is born. + + The Wansbeck sings with all her springs, + The bents and braes give ear; + But the wood that rings wi' the sang she sings + I may not see nor hear; + For far and far thae blithe burns are, + And strange is a' thing near. + + The light there lightens, the day there brightens, + The loud wind there lives free: + Nae light comes nigh me or wind blaws by me + That I wad hear or see. + + But O gin I were there again, + Afar ayont the faem, + Cauld and dead in the sweet saft bed + That haps my sires at hame! + + We'll see nae mair the sea-banks fair, + And the sweet grey gleaming sky, + And the lordly strand of Northumberland, + And the goodly towers thereby: + And none shall know but the winds that blow + The graves wherein we lie. + + + + + THE TYNESIDE WIDOW + + + There's mony a man loves land and life, + Loves life and land and fee; + And mony a man loves fair women, + But never a man loves me, my love, + But never a man loves me. + + O weel and weel for a' lovers, + I wot weel may they be; + And weel and weel for a' fair maidens, + But aye mair woe for me, my love, + But aye mair woe for me. + + O weel be wi' you, ye sma' flowers, + Ye flowers and every tree; + And weel be wi' you, a' birdies, + But teen and tears wi' me, my love, + But teen and tears wi' me. + + O weel be yours, my three brethren, + And ever weel be ye; + Wi' deeds for doing and loves for wooing, + But never a love for me, my love, + But never a love for me. + + And weel be yours, my seven sisters, + And good love-days to see, + And long life-days and true lovers, + But never a day for me, my love, + But never a day for me. + + Good times wi' you, ye bauld riders, + By the hieland and the lee; + And by the leeland and by the hieland + It's weary times wi' me, my love, + It's weary times wi' me. + + Good days wi' you, ye good sailors, + Sail in and out the sea; + And by the beaches and by the reaches + It's heavy days wi' me, my love, + It's heavy days wi' me. + + I had his kiss upon my mouth, + His bairn upon my knee; + I would my soul and body were twain, + And the bairn and the kiss wi' me, my love, + And the bairn and the kiss wi' me. + + The bairn down in the mools, my dear, + O saft and saft lies she; + I would the mools were ower my head, + And the young bairn fast wi' me, my love, + And the young bairn fast wi' me. + + The father under the faem, my dear, + O sound and sound sleeps he; + I would the faem were ower my face, + And the father lay by me, my love, + And the father lay by me. + + I would the faem were ower my face, + Or the mools on my ee-bree; + And waking-time with a' lovers, + But sleeping-time wi' me, my love, + But sleeping-time wi' me. + + I would the mools were meat in my mouth, + The saut faem in my ee; + And the land-worm and the water-worm + To feed fu' sweet on me, my love, + To feed fu' sweet on me. + + My life is sealed with a seal of love, + And locked with love for a key; + And I lie wrang and I wake lang, + But ye tak' nae thought for me, my love, + But ye tak' nae thought for me. + + We were weel fain of love, my dear, + O fain and fain were we; + It was weel with a' the weary world, + But O, sae weel wi' me, my love, + But O, sae weel wi' me. + + We were nane ower mony to sleep, my dear, + I wot we were but three; + And never a bed in the weary world + For my bairn and my dear and me, my love, + For my bairn and my dear and me. + + + + + DEDICATION + + + The years are many, the changes more, + Since wind and sun on the wild sweet shore + Where Joyous Gard stands stark by the sea + With face as bright as in years of yore + + Shone, swept, and sounded, and laughed for glee + More deep than a man's or a child's may be, + On a day when summer was wild and glad, + And the guests of the wind and the sun were we. + + The light that lightens from seasons clad + With darkness now, is it glad or sad? + Not sad but glad should it shine, meseems, + On eyes yet fain of the joy they had. + + For joy was there with us; joy that gleams + And murmurs yet in the world of dreams + Where thought holds fast, as a constant warder, + The days when I rode by moors and streams, + + Reining my rhymes into buoyant order + Through honied leagues of the northland border. + Though thought or memory fade, and prove + A faithless keeper, a thriftless hoarder, + + One landmark never can change remove, + One sign can the years efface not. Love, + More strong than death or than doubt may be, + Treads down their strengths, and abides above. + + Yea, change and death are his servants: we, + Whom love of the dead links fast, though free, + May smile as they that beheld the dove + Bear home her signal across the sea. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems and Ballads (Third Series), by +Algernon Charles Swinburne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS AND BALLADS (THIRD SERIES) *** + +***** This file should be named 18726.txt or 18726.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/2/18726/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Lisa Reigel, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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